I did not intend to co-opt the word, but since you are using it, I don’t see it as an illegitimate use of that word. You are saying, as I understand it, that we need engagement with the world. I don’t disagree.
I think it makes more sense to stress the mind than the world. You seem to be saying that both are equally important. That’s perfectly fine, but then I don’t see how to proceed.
One can either say that the mind needs the “actual” world and hence that the source which we interact with is fundamental. Or one could say that the source does not matter, it’s the way we interpret what comes in that matters.
We may have different intuitions.
That’s a very hard thing to do, it’s not that there is no separation, it’s that I think it’s extremely difficult to say what this consists of.
Maybe the world is made of the stuff of mind, if so, the distinction is nebulous. If the world is not made of mind-stuff, we’d have to isolate the criteria for saying this is world-stuff, not mind stuff.
I agree with Russell here when he says of, we do not know enough about the world (physics in this case) to say if the world is mind-like or non-mind like.
As for your “the mind is in the world”, sure. But the opposite is true too, no mind, no world for us (crucially).
I’d argue that the world is a mental construction. It’s not solely a mental construction (some of things postulated by physics and astronomy seem to be extra-mental) but it is at least this.
I assume you mean from birth. But no, in my opinion, that does not follow. Which is why I said “A huge part of our learning…” instead of something like “The only way we learn…” We can learn some things simply by being spoken to as infants. And I’m sure we could learn even more if the caretaker of such an infant put intensive effort into teaching.
Yeah, I’m not going to argue against Kant on this point, but his view—which I think is the best angle on this issue of mental construction—is more subtle than he’s sometimes given credit for. He is significantly anti-Cartesian: experience for Kant is intrinsically relational, between mind and world. The world we inhabit is phenomenal—that is, structured by the conditions of possible experience, by how we must encounter objects given the nature of subjectivity.
Crucially, insofar as the world is ‘constructed’ for Kant, it is not constructed in the head. The phenomenal objects of experience are similarly not inside the head. Rather, the world is structured by the subject-object relation itself. The phenomenal world just is the world we inhabit, not a inner model of it.
Thoughts without content are empty, intuitions without concepts are blind.
— Kant, Critique of Pure Reason
This doesn’t say that thoughts are in here, intuitions come from out there, and then the mind combines them. It says without both, you have nothing at all.
Incidentally, it’s no coincidence that phenomenology rests so heavily on Kant.
Do you think the mind could learn as much if it did nothing more than passively observe the world as it does from interacting with the world via the body? I believe that would grant only a very limited degree of learning and thinking. I believe learning and thinking, for each of us and for the development of learning and thinking in evolutionary history, largely requires interacting with the world. Through trial and error, we learn to move our bodies, and to affect the world. I don’t think we can overestimate the importance of that.
I think the mind is inherently active. Unless of course it has all its sense data channels (hearing, seeing, smelling, etc.) not working at all, then it can’t do much.
But even very limited exposure to the world leads to extremely reach replies, such as blind deaf people, who can register what someone is saying by merely putting their hands on someone’s neck.
Sure, its interaction, but the interaction is very simple, and poor compared to the richness of the reply.
The answer to this question is that inquiry self-corrects as guided by what is “increasingly adequate” for our purposes. And the understanding of reality is not necessarily our top priority. So the intelligible structures we construct reflect not only “the conditions under which anything can appear to us”, but also, our underlying purposes, and intentions. Furthermore, “the conditions under which anything can appear to us” have already been constructed, formed by the evolutionary forces which are highly influenced by purpose, the intent to act (the reproductive act for example).
This directly relates back to what we discussed earlier in relation to what constitutes “explanation”. If we maintain an essential relation between understanding and explanation, we will see the need to include purpose, intention, and free will as necessary aspects of an adequate understanding. But if we compromise in our definition of “explanation”, we will say that fields such as statistical analysis provide us with an “increasingly adequate understanding”. In reality though, prediction rather than explanation has taken priority as our purpose in this case. So we get an increasingly adequate predictive capacity, without an increasingly adequate understanding, perhaps even at the cost of jeopardizing our capacity to understand.
No. Understanding is an activity, not a container. When I understand why water freezes at 0°C, the intelligible structure I’ve grasped isn’t “inside” me the way a marble is inside a jar. And the water isn’t “outside” my understanding the way a marble is outside a jar. What’s happened is that my understanding has become adequate to the structure of the thing. The intelligible form — the pattern, the relations, the unity — is in the thing as what makes it the kind of thing it is, and in my understanding as what I’ve grasped. Same structure, two different modes of being. This is basically the Aristotelian/Thomistic picture of understanding.
You say understanding succeeds when concepts conform a posteriori to the intuition of the thing appearing to the senses. But “conform to” is doing all the work in that sentence. If a conceptual determination can fail to conform to intuition, then intuition is exercising a constraint that the conceptual activity didn’t generate. And — crucially — this holds even if you say intuition is itself structured by the subject’s forms of sensibility.
Here’s why. Even on the Kantian picture, intuition involves receptivity. Kant is very clear about this: sensibility is the capacity to be affected. The forms of space and time are ours, sure. But what fills those forms — the material of sensation — is not up to us. We don’t choose what we see when we open our eyes. And it’s that material that forces conceptual revision when our judgments go wrong. The forms are ours; the content that arrives through those forms is not. So even granting you the full Kantian apparatus, there’s an element of givenness that the subject doesn’t produce and can’t control. And that element is what makes some constructions succeed and others fail.
So the question becomes: what is it about that given material that makes it sort our judgments into correct and incorrect? If you say “nothing — the sorting is entirely done by us,” then you’ve abandoned your own claim that concepts must conform to intuition. If you say “something about the sensory material constrains the sorting,” then you’re acknowledging a structure on the side of what’s received, not just what’s constructed. And that’s my position.
But this just pushes the question back. The person with “greater intellectual specificity” has related more conceptions to each other — fine. But related them correctly? A conspiracy theorist relates an enormous number of conceptions to each other with great specificity and internal consistency. What they lack isn’t quantity of conceptual relations. It’s accuracy. Their elaborate web of relations doesn’t answer to how things actually are.
So “simply the application of the categories, in the quantity of related conceptions” can’t be the distinguishing mark of genuine understanding. You need a normative criterion that goes beyond quantity and consistency. And the obvious candidate is: the person who genuinely understands combustion has conceptual relations that track the structure of combustion itself. The person who just memorizes words, or who builds elaborate but wrong theories, hasn’t done that — regardless of how many conceptions they’ve related.
This is exactly the gap that keeps reappearing in your account. You have rich resources for describing the mechanics of cognition — categories, schemata, relational complexity. But whenever we ask what makes a cognition correct, the machinery by itself can’t answer. It needs something outside itself to be answerable to.
I appreciate the candor, but I think you should be more troubled by this than you are. You’re saying intelligibility and existence are both philosophically uninteresting — just bare preconditions that the intellect needs before it can get to work. But existence and intelligibility are arguably the most fundamental philosophical questions there are. If your framework relegates them both to the status of uninteresting background conditions, that might be a signal that the framework is screening off the questions that matter most, not that the questions are unimportant.
And notice the asymmetry: you’re saying the categories do all the interesting work, but the categories themselves only function because things are intelligible and because things exist. A framework that treats its own enabling conditions as philosophically uninteresting has, I think, lost the thread. It’s like a theory of vision that has detailed accounts of rods and cones and neural processing but considers light itself uninteresting. You can build an internally complete account of the mechanism, sure — but you’ve left out the thing that makes the whole mechanism about anything.
This is a really important slip. Valid/invalid is a property of inferential form. An argument can be perfectly valid and still have a false conclusion, if the premises are false. So validity alone doesn’t get you what you need. You can validly affirm something that’s completely wrong about the world.
When I say the categories “get things wrong,” I’m not talking about invalid inference. I’m talking about judgments that are logically impeccable but don’t answer to how things are. “The sun orbits the earth” can be embedded in a perfectly valid inferential structure. What makes it wrong isn’t a logical defect — it’s that the world doesn’t cooperate. And “the world doesn’t cooperate” is not a validity claim. It’s a truth claim.
If all you have is valid/invalid, you can never get from logically well-formed cognition to correct cognition. You need the right/wrong distinction, because that’s the one that connects judgment to reality. Replacing it with valid/invalid is exactly the move that makes the success of inquiry inexplicable — which is where we started.
While I appreciate the cheeky reply, I’ve addressed this twice now. I’m not blaming nature for our errors. I’m saying nature is what reveals them. Those are opposite claims. When the world doesn’t cooperate with a judgment, the fault is ours — we judged incorrectly. But the point is that we only discover the fault because the world has a determinate structure that our judgment failed to match. Without that structure, there’s nothing to be wrong about.
You’re conflating two things. Yes, logic is the means by which we register the incongruency. I’ve never denied that. We need inferential capacity to notice that cognition A doesn’t sit well with cognition B. But logic is the instrument of detection, not the source of what’s detected. A thermometer is the means by which we register temperature, but the thermometer doesn’t produce the heat.
When a successive cognition fails to be congruent with an antecedent one, something prompted that incongruence. The new cognition didn’t just spontaneously differ from the old one for no reason. Something in experience — something received, not generated — came in that didn’t fit the prior determination. Logic processes the mismatch, sure. But the mismatch itself originated in what was given, not in the logical operations that registered it.
And I think your closing concession — “necessary and sufficient, but not perfect” — is actually more damaging than you realize. What is it that makes the system imperfect? If logic is truly sufficient, imperfection shouldn’t be possible. The imperfection is precisely the system’s inability to guarantee that its logically valid outputs are true. And that gap between validity and truth is, once again, the space where the object’s own structure enters the picture.
But “we now know what isn’t” doesn’t explain why the second determination is privileged. It just describes a temporal sequence: first we thought lake, then we thought not-lake. On purely internal grounds, why isn’t the transition just a change rather than a correction?
You could have gone from “lake” to “not-lake” for all sorts of reasons — a hallucination, a change in lighting, fatigue. What makes this particular transition a case of getting closer to how things are rather than just a different conceptual determination replacing an earlier one? The temporal succession alone can’t tell you that. You need the further claim that the second determination better answers to something — and that something is the actual condition of the road surface. Which is, again, the object constraining judgment from outside the logical machinery.
Right — and that’s the problem. If a judgment is “good” just by the standards of the person making it, then there’s no distinction between knowledge and confident error. The flat-earther and the physicist are both making “good” determinations by their own lights. You’ve lost any basis for saying one of them is actually wrong about the world.
This isn’t a minor consequence. It’s the whole ballgame. Either epistemic normativity is grounded in something beyond the subject’s own satisfaction — in which case, the object’s structure matters — or it collapses into “whatever feels right to whoever is judging.” And if it’s the latter, then the entire apparatus of categories, schemata, and logical form is just elaborate machinery for producing determinations that have no claim on truth beyond the system that generated them.
I’m skeptical that you actually believe that, for what it’s worth. I suspect you really believe the physicist is right and the flat-earther is wrong, full stop — not just “by different standards.” But that belief needs grounding, and the grounding has to come from somewhere outside the subject.
If epistemic normativity is a “mouth full of nothing,” then you’ve just surrendered the ability to say that any judgment is better than any other in any sense beyond logical consistency. And you’ve explicitly conceded that a logically successful argument against the flat-earther “may or may not have any effect” on his confidence. So on your view, we have: no epistemic normativity, no guarantee that logic can distinguish better from worse positions in any substantive sense, and the admission that refutation may not actually reach the person who’s wrong.
I mean — what’s left? You have an internally complete description of cognitive machinery that processes representations and checks them for logical consistency. But you’ve told me it can’t ground truth beyond validity, that “better” is relative to the subject’s own standards, and that normativity is empty. That’s not epistemic humility. That’s epistemic surrender.
And look, I do appreciate the humor about “what we do.” But I think there’s a real difference between our exchange and the flat-earther case. You and I are actually tracking each other’s arguments, testing them, revising where needed. That activity presupposes that there’s a right and wrong of the matter we’re both trying to get at. If epistemic normativity is really nothing, then this conversation is just two cognitive systems firing off logically valid determinations at each other with no shared object. I don’t think either of us really believes that’s whats happening here.
Fair enough, I did ask “better” and you answered on those terms. But the reason I asked “better” is because you were the one who introduced it — you said we make a faulty determination and then a “better” one. And in context, you clearly meant epistemically better, not just aesthetically more pleasing. You were talking about the mirage case: we first judged “lake,” then revised. That revision isn’t better because it feels nicer. It’s better because it’s more correct.
So the split you’re proposing — valid for the epistemic question, feeling for the “better” question — doesn’t actually map onto how you yourself use the concepts. When you describe inquiry self-correcting, you don’t mean we moved from a valid judgment to one that happens to feel better. You mean we moved from a less adequate judgment to a more adequate one. And “more adequate” is doing epistemic work, not aesthetic work. It means: closer to how things are.
You keep trying to avoid the word “correct” in favor of “valid,” but your own examples keep smuggling correctness back in. And I think that’s because you can’t actually describe what inquiry does without it.
But that’s exactly my point. If correctness relates to what is, then correctness is a relation between judgment and the way things are — independent of the subject’s feelings, preferences, or cognitive apparatus. You’ve just affirmed that there is a “what is” that judgment can be correct about. That’s not Kantian epistemic modesty. That’s realism.
You can’t maintain both that correctness relates to what is and that we have no access to the way things are independent of our representations. One of those has to give. Either correctness is a real relation to the world — in which case intelligibility belongs to the world, not just to our cognitive processing — or “correctness” is just another word for internal validity dressed up in realist clothing.
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I think this is actually a good place to take stock, because over the course of this exchange you’ve made several concessions that sit uncomfortably with your official Kantian position: concepts must conform to intuition, intelligibility is a precondition of inquiry, and now correctness relates to what is. Each of those points toward the structure of the known exercising genuine authority over the activity of knowing. My view simply takes those concessions seriously and builds on them. Yours, I think, makes them and then tries to walk them back.
Good exchange as always though. I suspect we’ll keep circling this, but thats fine — the circle gets tighter each time.
I agree, but I go further. I say there is no such thing as an inactive mind. If no thinking is taking place, there is no mind. What is a mind with no thoughts?
I genuinely enjoyed reading this, and I think it captures something real about the feel of inquiry — that back-and-forth where you probe and the world pushes back. The frustration when an experiment doesn’t go as predicted genuinely does feel like uncooperative behavior from the other side.
But I’d be cautious about leaning on the game-theoretic framing too hard, because I think it subtly reshapes inquiry into something more strategic than it actually is. In a game, the goal is to optimize your payoff given the other player’s policy. And that does describe a lot of inquiry — most of it, probably. If I’m trying to figure out why my car won’t start, I’m probing, testing, adjusting, and success means the car starts. The game metaphor fits nicely there.
Where I think it starts to strain is when you notice that sometimes inquiry keeps going even after the practical problem is solved. You figure out that the fix works, and then you want to know why it works — not because knowing why has any further practical payoff, but because the question is just… still open, and it bugs you. That restlessness isn’t well captured by a payoff structure. It looks more like inquiry has its own internal momentum that isn’t reducible to strategic motivation. Maybe not everyone experiences this, but I suspect most people who’ve spent time thinking carefully about anything will recognize it.
The deeper worry with the game framing is that it keeps the world’s “policy” as something external I’m trying to model from the outside — which edges back toward a picture where knowledge is nothing more than successful prediction. And I think that undersells what happens in judgment. When I judge that X is the case, I’m not just saying “my model predicts X and the world hasn’t punished me yet.” I’m affirming it as true on sufficient grounds. Thats a commitment that goes beyond purely strategic success.
If the criticism were simply that it omits this or that scientist, then this reply would have merit. Of course it is true that scientific verification is inter-subjective. It is the averaging and replication of observations across many instances. That’s the point of the so-called Five Sigma (5\sigma) flag which indicates the degree of reliability of an observation. But the critique is that the reality itself is not truly mind–independent, which was the origin of the ‘measurement problem’ in quantum physics. And observation still implies an observer, who is not herself a part of the observed reality, but is onstensibly bracketed of from it.
I agree phenomenology is not anti-realist. But neither is it realist in the sense that you’re proposing. Phenomenology begins with the indubitable fact that scientific knowledge remains grounded in first–person experience. The originator of phenomenology, Edmund Husserl, argued that Galileo introduced a “mathematization of nature” by replacing the perceived, qualitative world of human experience, with the idealized, quantitative domain of geometry and physics. A fundamental component of this step was the division of the world into the domain of primary attributes - measurable, quantifiable, predictable - and secondary qualities, residing in the mind of the observer. Thereafter the measurable, the quantifiable, becomes the sole criteria for what is considered real, with the subject, the observer, assigned a secondary role. This was how the foundational moves of the modern mind were laid down. it is technologically powerful, but with no conceptual space in it for those who created it.
So, the mathematical domain, originally a method for understanding nature, has been mistakenly taken for reality itself. Husserl calls this historical process a “concealment” of the ultimate source of meaning, scientific or otherwise.
This led to Objectivism and Positivism, worldviews that reduce all knowledge to what can be observed and measured, neglecting the subjective human subject who does the measuring.
Your last sentence is anchored in this perspective to the extent that you’re unwilling to entertain any challenge to it.
I don’t know if Immanuel Kant would have argued that there is nothing further to be discovered once we have an understanding of the role and limits of reason. Recall that he always maintained that he was an empirical realist, and that (as we already discussed) he lectured in various facets of science, in which he always attempted scrupulous adherence to the correct methods.
It is true, I think, that we can’t obtain to the mythical ‘God’s-eye view’, independently of all perspectives. So the crucial, underlying issue is that we cannot obtain a truly mind-independent perspective.
I suppose, really, this becomes a question for anthropology: who are we? Here I’ll venture into waters that Kant himself would not have considered. But there is a seam of insight to the effect that ‘we are the medium through which the universe knows itself’. One of the Huxleys said it:
Man is that part of reality in which and through which the cosmic process has become conscious and has begun to comprehend itself. His supreme task is to increase that conscious comprehension and to apply it as fully as possible to guide the course of events. In other words, his role is to discover his destiny as an agent of the evolutionary process, in order to fulfill it more adequately ~ Julian Huxley, Religion without Revelation.
This is an idea that is also contemplated in Thomas Nagel’s Mind and Cosmos. And again, it calls into question the sense in which the division of mind and world, self and other, is really fundamental.
Agree! I don’t see Kant has having ‘the last word’ or being the authority for the ages. I do see his ‘Copernican revolution in philosophy’ as conveying something profoundly important, especially in respect of the tendency of modern thought to ‘idolize the objective’. But his critics have said that he still leaves us with a sense of separation from an unknowable world, and I can see the merit of that. This is why phenomenology, for example, attempts to restore the first-person nature of knowing and being.
There is some interesting, if anecdotal, data on this from Canadian neurosurgeon Wilder Penfield. Much brain surgery is conducted on conscious patients, as the brain is insensitive to pain. Penfield reported many occasions when he was able to elicit memories and sensations from subjects by stimulation of brain areas. But one thing he noticed was that the subjects could invariably tell when this was something he did, as distinct from something they were doing. In other words, even when a vivid memory was induced, the patient retained a sense of agency — and recognized that the event was externally caused.
As I indicated in my last post, correctness is judged in relation to the purpose. If the thing judged, provides the means to the end, it is judged as correct. So if a judgement of “what is”, is required for a specific purpose, the correctness of that determination is dependent on the purpose which provides the context of the judgement.
You left out the middle ground. It doesn’t collapse into whatever feels right to whoever is judging, because we establish standards, conventions, norms. What you’re missing is that agreement, communion, etc., actually feels right to the subject. Therefore we can have an objective structure, objective by convention and agreement, which is based solely in “the subject’s own satisfaction”. Notice, multiple subjects have similar satisfactions, and this is conducive to agreement and standards.
We judge correctness with reference to the conventions, and that is how we determine that the flat-earther is incorrect.
From what I’ve said above, you ought to understand that we have a form of correctness about what is, and it does not in any way relate to “the way things are independent of our representations”. It relates to what is required for the purpose at hand. And we determine this with reference to our standards and conventions, regardless of any supposed independent way things are.
Right, but Kant’s empirical realism operates within the framework of transcendental idealism — it doesn’t resolve the tension I’m pointing to, it presupposes it. Kant can say “yes, we make genuine empirical discoveries” precisely because he’s already restricted the domain of knowledge to the field structured by our own cognitive contributions. Empirical realism, for Kant, just is the claim that within that field, things are objectively ordered and discoverable.
So the question I keep raising doesn’t get answered by pointing to Kant’s scientific bona fides. It’s more like: what is it about reality such that it cooperates with inquiry at all? Kant’s framework lets him describe the success of science but not really explain it — because any explanation would have to reach past the boundary he’s drawn.
I think this is actually a really significant move, and I I’m broadly sympathetic to it. If we’re saying that cognition isn’t some external spectator peering at reality from behind a veil, but is itself a real process within reality through which intelligible structure gets articulated — then yes, I think that’s much closer to the truth.
Good — I think we’ve landed somewhere productive then. And for what it’s worth I agree that Kant’s “Copernican revolution” was getting at something genuinely important. The naïve picture where the mind is just a passive mirror of mind-independent objects really does need to be overcome. Kant saw that clearly, and it was a profound insight.
Where I think the tradition needed to keep moving — and it sounds like you agree — is past the residual dualism that Kant’s own framework leaves in place. If the categories only apply to appearances, and the thing-in-itself remains permanently beyond cognitive reach, we end up with exactly the “separation from an unknowable world” you mention. Phenomenology is one important attempt to get past that, and I think it succeeds in ways Kant couldn’t have anticipated — precisely because it starts from the insight that knowing and being aren’t externally related in the first place.
Anyway, I appreciate this exchange. It clarified things for me and I think we’re largely on the same page about where the real work lies.
Indeed there is no need for a central self, or inner theatre. That was discarded long before Dennett.
Sure, and defining and analysing these processes has been the central business of cognitive science since the early 90s.
The problem is, one of the identified systems is conscious attention. A focused process that usurps these other systems and produces an entirely different set of outputs, processed in a different way to the original unattended processing, that produces different regional cerebral bloodflow from unattended processing, and which is extremely highly correlated with subjective experience.
So yes, you can divide the mind into passively processing sub-systems and Dennett could argue that the mind was completely made up of these passive systems such that conscious awareness was unnecessary. Except that we have a set of processes that appears to function as form of selective awareness, that we are conscious of, that has all the same evidence and attributes as the other sub-systems, and interesting effects that occur when they interact with each other.
Why leave that out of our account? Why insist on a model of the mind that that doesn’t fit some observed mental activity?
Lookup tables are capable of talking about their own mental states. The issue is not the ability to talk about these states, but rather the ability to subjectively experience these mental impressions, impressions that are so strongly matched to the mental activity and the observed products of that activity.
Sure, but it’s a narrative about something that accurately reports future actions, is observable in the brain, and has a measureable effect on cognitive performance.
Which is why I’m arguing that consciousness, both as a subjective experience and as its physical correlates, is a functional part of the mind, and of neural activity.
Except that Christoffer is arguing the opposite of my stance. He’s arguing that consciousness is a seperate, non-functional and ignoreable part of cognitive processing. He even suggests it may occur at a later time than ‘real’ decision making.
Certainly his argument depends on rational conscious reasoning. And there’s no evidence of such logic processing taking place in the absence of conscious experience.
Of course you can argue that all behaviour is just adaptive performances, that even here on this forum we’re just clockwork automatons working out a pre-determined result. And you could argue that no matter what the evidence was. If you want some solid examples, T.J Mawson does a thorough job in Free Will: A guide to the Perplexed (2011)
Or you could equally argue that all of us are just under the influence of mind control lasers controlled by the CIA, engaging in philosophy precisely because we each saw something we shouldn’t have, and arguing with each other because that’s more efficient use of laser-time then trying to distract us all individually.
Or if you prefer a more classical approach, there’s always the increasingly complicated thesis of a Flat Earth. If you want to claim that our thoughts are the results of meditationists on the counterrotational island of Mu, beyond the great ice wall, then nothing I say can fully refute that. Or if you want to claim that all our thoughts were determined in advance, maybe even billions of years ago when the earth cooled, then well, I can’t refute that one either.
But if we want to ignore these unfounded beliefs, and focus on the observed facts, then the observations we need to deal with are that we appear to have conscious experiences and make conscious decisions, in processes that can be observed, measured and physically hindered. I can see why theorists like Dennett might wish to claim that subjective experience is not useful or necessary to explain our behaviour, but the fact remains that the phenomenon occurs, and that our most effective predictors of human behaviour model them not as a passive impression of a prior process, but as causal.
I didn’t lay out Dennett’s view because I agree with it. I think it’s pretty close to everything wrong with current philosophy of mind. But it also serves the purpose of illustrating one of the poles in the debate. I posted it more to illustrate that I understand it well enough to criticize it.
My own approach is much more in line with phenomenology and idealism. See for example my essay on The Primacy of Consciousness, an introduction to Michel Bitbol. It’s about the diametrical opposite of Dennett.
