The essential problem here is that there simply is no adequate way to
express the distinction between the "fact" and the "statement of
fact". The term "fact" is just that, a term, a word, an inert symbol,
a part of a statement. It is at most a linguistic devise and it is
tied up with language and language games.
But there is something very strange going on here. How do you signify
something without engaging in a practice of signifying? Obviously you
can't, on pain of circularity. Even the term "indescribable" is a
description. And yet somehow the term seems to have some sense to it.
I think what I'm trying to say is, the radical empiricist's intended
use of "looks" talk is ultimately and necessarily doomed to failure.
They attempt to express the inexpressible, and in so doing they
fundamentally miss-describe what they set out to describe.
This has long been the poet's dilemma. Margret Atwood once wrote:
By the rules of the game, I must always lie.
Now,
Do you believe me?
There is a strange paradox at the bottom of this problem. It seems
fair to say that the world is independent of us. But, the only way to
communicate this, perhaps even the only way to clearly think about
this at all, is to reduce the world to a symbol - the word "world". In
this act of conceptual domestication, this attempt to encompass all
that which is not "I" or "We", something is essentially missed. But
what is missed cannot be named; we fundamentally cannot TALK about it.
It defies description. It's like trying to grasp water; we know it's
there but we can't close our hands around it because as soon as we do,
it slips between our fingers.
I think that Wittgenstein and Brandom are right, but only within the
bounded realm of discursive practice. In any conversation, any
discourse, perhaps even any act of clear conceptual thought, we simply
cannot peel away the language from the facts about the game. And there
is a paradox (arising from a classical problem of reflexive reference)
involved in claiming that there exists a world that is independent of
language. The paradox arises because the assertion, "there exists a
world that is independent of language" is itself hopelessly entangled
in language and linguistic conceptual descriptions that ultimately
miss-represent what they attempt to represent.
Perhaps the fact that a paradox arises ought to be taken as evidence
that the assertion, "there exists a world independent of language",
must be false, is absurd, and cannot be really believed. But damn it
there IS a world out there independent of language, even if my attempt
to express this belief is inadequate and paradoxical. It may not be a
world that is exactly as I CONCEIVE of it (i.e. make it intelligible,
domesticate it, subsume it under concepts that are insolubly
linguistic), but surely it is out there!
I concede that there isn't much apparent cash value in talking like
this, attempting to paradoxically express the inexpressible. What I'm
trying to get at has no value of generating psychological facts from
which language can be separated. Perhaps it has no value at all.
There is a great monologue from the movie Waking Life might be
relevant here:
"It just seems that so much of our experience is intangible. So much
of what we perceive cannot be expressed, is unspeakable. And yet, when
we communicate with one another, and we feel that we feel that we have
connected, and we think that we're understood, I think we have a
feeling of almost spiritual communion. And that feeling might be
transient but I think it's what we live for."
Here's a youtube link to the video of the monologue:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r6Ee9mW9IG8
This seems to be related to what the transcendentalists like Emerson
and Whitman were on about. In fact, part of my forthcoming paper is
attempting to deal with this relation to Emerson's transcendentalism.
It's also what seems to be at the heart of the Zen emphasis on
practice.
So that's at least a sketch of what I think is at work here. You can
see the inherent difficulty with my project of articulating all this.
At times it seems futile, like trying to grasp at air. Anyway I'd love
to hear what you think.
cheers,
Matt