Interesting essay, coming at this question of perception and reality from a different angle than the usual philosophical one.
You suggest there is a "best" version of each position that meets somewhere in the middle: the essentialists can acknowledge the meaning-laden essence of things while acknowledging that their senses might deceive them; the nominalists can say that things are just what we make of them, but a lion is definitely different from a sheep.
I wonder though whether even this compromise vitiates the affective appeal of the "spiritually charged" vision of reality. Isn't the whole point of thinking that things have (divine) meaning that you can know, with certainty, what that meaning is? Descartes gets around this by saying that a perfect God must exist who would not deceive his senses, and so the world must be real, at least insofar as we have "clear and distinct" perceptions of it. Kant says we can never know the thing-in-itself, but that reason shows us there are three rectilinear dimensions in which things phenomenally appear to us, and that our unity of apperception is assured a priori by a the transcendental unity of of self-consciousness.
(Kant is of course wrong about the a priori conditions of reason, as Einstein shows, but he does illustrate the problem: our experience is always mediated by senses that are simply given to us.)
East criticizes Sacasas for turning the "world into a mirror," where the observer only sees himself (or perhaps only what can be measured). East says that he sees the world instead as "full of life, intelligence, events, experiences, agents, and phenomena." Frankly, I doubt that Sacasas would take issue with what East says there. East counsels respect for the "real." But he doesn't really doubt that the world is fundamentally transparent. The real reveals itself to East in "clear and distinct" impressions that lead to certain truths. He claims that the Christian "makes no demands" of the world, because the world just "sings" the truth about itself.
The defenders of an "enchanted world," in other words, seem committed to the notion that they know something *true* about the world beyond their sense impressions. The arguments of the disenchanted, in contrast, are at least structurally committed—by the form of their argument—to the notion that our sense impressions are always provisional, and that our names for things are strictly arbitrary. Not arbitrary in the sense that the names don't matter or don't have consequences, but that the names could be different, that names are abstractions from sense impressions.
Of course, nominalists/constructivists aren't always consistent about this. Most of them don't say all this explicitly, or even think it to themselves. You might even say that most people naturally lean towards "enchantment"—a world filled with hidden essences that naturally exert their power. So we hear arguments about how "Woman" is a constructed category, but of course a person born in the "wrong" body is just trying to align their inner and outer essential natures.
The trouble with East's argument about the transparent nature of reality is that it ultimately relies on faith, a word that does not appear in his essay except in quoting Sacasas. He accuses the skeptic of turning the world into a mirror where the skeptic only sees themself. The skeptic might ask in response, "what is this divine principle you see at work in the world?" Is it more or less selfish to see the world as (your) God's mirror?
The point I am trying to make, then, is that talk about dis/enchantment and meaning seems to be driven by anxiety over uncertainty. Isn't an enchanted world one in which a divine being assuages this anxiety by telling us how to live and what our place is? Isn't a disenchanted world so very desolate not because we are alone (there are others all around) but because we don't know what to do with ourselves? That we are the ones responsible for making sense out of our senses?
Thanks for this comment! Lots of food for thought, here.
The supposition that God will ensure that the world is basically comprehensible is very common in the Western tradition, it's true. I'm frequently frustrated by it, because we know that the world does not seem to be entirely arranged for our convenience! If you accept that the Problem of Evil exists, then you have to accept that "God would obviously do this because it would be very inconvenient for us otherwise" is not much of an argument. Relatedly, there are a great many theodicies that can be repurposed into reasons why God might allow the world to be incomprehensible.
Still, to those who are attached to the idea of faith in God as faith that their spiritual perceptions are accurate, you may be right that my suggestion might not be persuasive. On the other hand, there's a strong Christian argument that we do indeed have occluded perception. We see "through a glass, darkly." So I am inclined to think that there are probably some amongst the religious who could agree that there is a need for humility in our attempts at spiritual perception.
As for me, I should note that my strongest spiritual experience came precisely after disavowing the possibility of using divine meanings to assuage my existential anxiety. God, if that's even the right word, is not my security blanket. I guess that might make me more inclined than most to advocate for facing the terror of not knowing, rather than rushing to a concrete faith framework in which to hide our uncertainty.
> This shows, they say, that there is some kind of social construction of which sex is the sexual one. It used to be women. Now it’s men.
I know it's not the focus of your piece, but I'm surprised you didn't mention the other interpretation - women as Destroyers. There's a construction of women in mythology and culture in which they are both the force that civilizes men (see: Enkidu) and the force that destroys or corrupts them.
Basically, women are inherently anti-men in this construction, in that they sap the things that make men masculine. It's good in some instances and bad in others, but women don't appear, iirc, to earn credit for the former.
I think there is another context where the distinction between inherent characteristics and perceptions comes to mind. I know that you follow Addison Del Mastro, who is one of my favorite urbanist writers. One of his major ideas is about the difference between what a city really is in essence as opposed to peoples' perception of what cities are. Del Mastro argues that a lot of these perceptions about cities in the US (that they are loud, dirty, crime-infested) are not exactly false, but they are the product of a very specific kind of city. Modern US cities are loud and dirty in large part due to the presence of cars, and the crime is the result of specific decisions about law enforcement and disinvestment from urban centers. But many people associate these problems with cities as a whole, not considering the possibility that cities can exist that don't have these characteristics. According to Del Mastro, a large part of being an urbanist is about trying to discern what are the "primary" characteristics of cities with the "secondary" characteristics imposed by history and culture.
It is cool to see this connection between two of my favorite essayists!
Interesting essay, coming at this question of perception and reality from a different angle than the usual philosophical one.
You suggest there is a "best" version of each position that meets somewhere in the middle: the essentialists can acknowledge the meaning-laden essence of things while acknowledging that their senses might deceive them; the nominalists can say that things are just what we make of them, but a lion is definitely different from a sheep.
I wonder though whether even this compromise vitiates the affective appeal of the "spiritually charged" vision of reality. Isn't the whole point of thinking that things have (divine) meaning that you can know, with certainty, what that meaning is? Descartes gets around this by saying that a perfect God must exist who would not deceive his senses, and so the world must be real, at least insofar as we have "clear and distinct" perceptions of it. Kant says we can never know the thing-in-itself, but that reason shows us there are three rectilinear dimensions in which things phenomenally appear to us, and that our unity of apperception is assured a priori by a the transcendental unity of of self-consciousness.
(Kant is of course wrong about the a priori conditions of reason, as Einstein shows, but he does illustrate the problem: our experience is always mediated by senses that are simply given to us.)
East criticizes Sacasas for turning the "world into a mirror," where the observer only sees himself (or perhaps only what can be measured). East says that he sees the world instead as "full of life, intelligence, events, experiences, agents, and phenomena." Frankly, I doubt that Sacasas would take issue with what East says there. East counsels respect for the "real." But he doesn't really doubt that the world is fundamentally transparent. The real reveals itself to East in "clear and distinct" impressions that lead to certain truths. He claims that the Christian "makes no demands" of the world, because the world just "sings" the truth about itself.
The defenders of an "enchanted world," in other words, seem committed to the notion that they know something *true* about the world beyond their sense impressions. The arguments of the disenchanted, in contrast, are at least structurally committed—by the form of their argument—to the notion that our sense impressions are always provisional, and that our names for things are strictly arbitrary. Not arbitrary in the sense that the names don't matter or don't have consequences, but that the names could be different, that names are abstractions from sense impressions.
Of course, nominalists/constructivists aren't always consistent about this. Most of them don't say all this explicitly, or even think it to themselves. You might even say that most people naturally lean towards "enchantment"—a world filled with hidden essences that naturally exert their power. So we hear arguments about how "Woman" is a constructed category, but of course a person born in the "wrong" body is just trying to align their inner and outer essential natures.
The trouble with East's argument about the transparent nature of reality is that it ultimately relies on faith, a word that does not appear in his essay except in quoting Sacasas. He accuses the skeptic of turning the world into a mirror where the skeptic only sees themself. The skeptic might ask in response, "what is this divine principle you see at work in the world?" Is it more or less selfish to see the world as (your) God's mirror?
The point I am trying to make, then, is that talk about dis/enchantment and meaning seems to be driven by anxiety over uncertainty. Isn't an enchanted world one in which a divine being assuages this anxiety by telling us how to live and what our place is? Isn't a disenchanted world so very desolate not because we are alone (there are others all around) but because we don't know what to do with ourselves? That we are the ones responsible for making sense out of our senses?
Thanks for this comment! Lots of food for thought, here.
The supposition that God will ensure that the world is basically comprehensible is very common in the Western tradition, it's true. I'm frequently frustrated by it, because we know that the world does not seem to be entirely arranged for our convenience! If you accept that the Problem of Evil exists, then you have to accept that "God would obviously do this because it would be very inconvenient for us otherwise" is not much of an argument. Relatedly, there are a great many theodicies that can be repurposed into reasons why God might allow the world to be incomprehensible.
Still, to those who are attached to the idea of faith in God as faith that their spiritual perceptions are accurate, you may be right that my suggestion might not be persuasive. On the other hand, there's a strong Christian argument that we do indeed have occluded perception. We see "through a glass, darkly." So I am inclined to think that there are probably some amongst the religious who could agree that there is a need for humility in our attempts at spiritual perception.
As for me, I should note that my strongest spiritual experience came precisely after disavowing the possibility of using divine meanings to assuage my existential anxiety. God, if that's even the right word, is not my security blanket. I guess that might make me more inclined than most to advocate for facing the terror of not knowing, rather than rushing to a concrete faith framework in which to hide our uncertainty.
> This shows, they say, that there is some kind of social construction of which sex is the sexual one. It used to be women. Now it’s men.
I know it's not the focus of your piece, but I'm surprised you didn't mention the other interpretation - women as Destroyers. There's a construction of women in mythology and culture in which they are both the force that civilizes men (see: Enkidu) and the force that destroys or corrupts them.
Basically, women are inherently anti-men in this construction, in that they sap the things that make men masculine. It's good in some instances and bad in others, but women don't appear, iirc, to earn credit for the former.
I think there is another context where the distinction between inherent characteristics and perceptions comes to mind. I know that you follow Addison Del Mastro, who is one of my favorite urbanist writers. One of his major ideas is about the difference between what a city really is in essence as opposed to peoples' perception of what cities are. Del Mastro argues that a lot of these perceptions about cities in the US (that they are loud, dirty, crime-infested) are not exactly false, but they are the product of a very specific kind of city. Modern US cities are loud and dirty in large part due to the presence of cars, and the crime is the result of specific decisions about law enforcement and disinvestment from urban centers. But many people associate these problems with cities as a whole, not considering the possibility that cities can exist that don't have these characteristics. According to Del Mastro, a large part of being an urbanist is about trying to discern what are the "primary" characteristics of cities with the "secondary" characteristics imposed by history and culture.
It is cool to see this connection between two of my favorite essayists!