Yes - that’s not so far from the line I’ve been pushing. On the shared biology/culture point: why should they not be more or less the same if we share the same culture and biology; the same public expressions? I can go along with that, but I’m wary of pushing further into private phenomenology, since discussions of phenomenology very quickly turn into effing the ineffable… the discussion becomes mystical. My preferred move is to simply remove private mental language so that it becomes evident that these are somehow things in the world.
On your “heterophenomenology” point specifically - a description that only exists to be sent, and means nothing without a recipient - this fits with my objection to the claim that “meaning occurs only in individuals’ heads.” I’ll push back hard there: if you and I both use “Paris” to mean that city, we share the meaning of “Paris,” regardless of how our private ideas of Paris might differ in content (capital of France vs Belgium, etc.). Meaning isn’t sealed up in a head; it’s constituted by the shared use.
That’s also why I reject the Cartesian/dualist picture where “language is the passive naming of experiences and mind is sealed off from outer examination” - this leads inevitably to solipsism. Instead, language and the world are locked together, mind and body are one, subject and object is a false dichotomy. A heterophenomenological description, on this view, isn’t a report smuggled out of a private inner theatre - its very sense depends on there being an addressee, a shared practice it plugs into.
The same point holds against intersubjectivity and the “unknowable noumenon”: we overwhelmingly agree on which sentences are true and which are false. It’s as if we shared a world about which we are speaking… we are embedded in the world. The private “underlying thing” some worry we can’t access is irrelevant. Hardly worth talking about, really. We are embedded in the world, and the interaction is mutual; we ought to dismiss talk of external objects as mere products of experience.
So shared biology and culture aren’t just contingent aids to communication, they’re what makes meaning possible at all, and a description with no possible recipient isn’t really a description of anything - it’s not yet language.
Renaming the difficulty doesn’t dissolve it. Swap “qualia” for “felt qualities of existence” and the same fork reappears: either these “felt qualities” are things we can actually talk about - red, sweet, loud, the ache in a knee - in which case they’re just what we already discuss, dressed in more portentous language; or they are supposed to be something over and above that shared talk, something only “realised by a being” from the inside, in which case they drop out of the conversation exactly as qualia do. The ugliness of the word “qualia” isn’t the problem; the problem is structural, and it survives the redecoration.
Ask what the supposed “felt quality of existence” adds beyond “being conscious of something.” Nothing shows up except the impression of depth. That impression is worth being suspicious of.
Nor does invoking phenomenology or existentialism change the logic. If those traditions have something to say about experience that can be articulated, examined, disputed - fine, that’s just more talk, continuous with what analytic philosophers of mind already do with “red” and “sweet”.
So it’s not a matter of taste in vocabulary or which philosophical dialect is prettier. Either it can be said, and then it’s continuous with existing talk of sensation and no new category is needed, or it can’t, and then wrapping it in “being” or phenomenological jargon doesn’t rescue it from irrelevance to philosophical discussion.
Who am I kidding - I could hardly run 100m, let alone sprint.