Silence is louder then words
In this short essay
I wish to show that silence can express meaning infinitely more than a word or
sentence, and goes beyond understanding.
Firstly we
need to look at meaning in language, something which Wittgenstein gives a very
good account of. In the Philosophical
Investigations Wittgenstein discusses how language actually works, when he
shows that words are not labels but ultimately indicate a use. To say "slab" to a worker on a
construction site, doesn't necessarily entail 'bring me the', it could be a
command or a statement of fact like 'this is a' and so is a knowledge
claim. What gives the use of a word is
the context and how the word is used. Ultimately the meaning of what is being
said is not fully given when we say a definition, but how we use that
definition. Wittgenstein spends a great deal of effort in this area and in
arguing against a private language.
So what
happens when we talk of pain or emotions, or colour and touch? As Wittgenstein
has removed the notion of ostensive pointing in language, when we say that is
red or I am in pain, we cannot be referring to a private sensation we
experience. This is because a fundamental mechanism in language that allows
meaning to be understood is a agreement on what something is. This is why the
label theory of words seems like common sense, because these agreements are
already in place and so the theory
appears after the fact. So, with the
meaning of 'tree', it is not the definition that is meaningful but that others
can understand that you are referring to that class of object.
But this
common sense picture language theory really falls into question when we ask
what are we pointing to with private, internalized sensations of colour and
pain. The community of understanding is an 'image' of what is pictured in the
mind, not the private sensation that is expressed. For instance, when we talk of the colour red,
we are talking about an agreement of what it is based on, an agreed
understanding that this object is actually red. Likewise with pain, we come to
an agreement that this behavioural sequence of pain is pain, and this begins to
take on a universality. A purely subjective experience in this account is
meaningless in a language, especially if it is of a kind where only one person
has had it. There would be no sequence or agreement that would allow
understanding, or any behaviour that could allow another to say 'I recognize
that' and so it cannot enter the language in a meaningful way.
A subjective
experience has no meaning because it is not referred to in language. How could
we know we mean the same thing, if it is even a thing at all?
It is here I
am going to introduce Kierkegaard and the concept of a knight of faith from his
book Fear and Trembling. The
knight of faith is a person who acts in a manner that is beyond the sphere of
understanding, due to a personal telos
(purpose) that 'over steps' the ethical considerations of others because
of 'an absolute duty to god'. In this case Abraham receives a subjective vision
from God, to sacrifice his beloved son Isaac in the lands of Moriah, in three
days time.
Firstly, it
is be noted that this telos was given to Abraham subjectively, no one could
have seen it or have been a part of it. Abraham received a picture (a purely
mentalistic/subjective process) from an infinite source, but unlike the picture
of colour or pain (which can be translated into an image and thus allow for an
agreement in the community, and so be rendered meaningful by a repeated
sequence of behaviour or coherence of agreement), this truly religious
experience cannot be agreed upon and cannot be understood, for it existed
within Abraham alone.
When
Kierkegaard says 'ethical' Wittgenstein says 'language', for language is
definitive of our reality. Our form of life describes our understanding and all
ethical considerations fall into the universal of language. This being the
case, how could Abraham speak, how could he explain that he had to sacrifice
'that which he loved most', foregoing the duty a father has to his son? Anyone
would think him mad from an outside perspective.
"Humanly
speaking he is insane and cannot make himself understood to anyone" (Fear
and Trembling, Problema II, 'pg 91) This
necessity for salience required by Wittgenstein’s language theory is utterly
understood by Kierkegaard. In an attempt to explain to others he would simply
give rise to temptation, and be drawn back to the universal, into the finite
language and he would not have made the infinite step over to the ethical.
Which is what, as Kierkegaard claims many times, made him great. It is the subjectivity that removes Abraham
from the language and so removes him from the universal. Yet paradoxically his
body is still with the finite, the universal, which is what gives the insane
quality to his actions. His physical actions can be understood, but make no
sense and this limits us from truly understanding; for we understand actions
within the ethical, with the language, but his actions are based on a duty to
the infinite.
Abraham
stayed silent for three days, which is important for Wittgenstein. Faith in
this case is the "beetle" that Wittgenstein spoke of that could never
enter the language. But does his silence
mean nothing? Can we say this in good heart? Surely, even if Abraham
imagined the vision and it never actually happened, we cannot say that he was
insane, for he knew that his actions would be seen as insane and understood the
ethical implications. The duty of a father to his son was not alien to him.
This element of understanding is what creates the fear and trembling, the
tension of standing in 'absolute relation to the infinite' whilst inside the
universal. All this could be understood, but he chose to suspend the duty for
what could have simply been a hallucination of conviction.
It was the
fear and trembling that made Abraham a knight, the bravery and fortitude of
acting on a conviction no one can understand. In this he finds isolation and a
very human terror. Considering this, his silence expressed bravery in the
actions he takes, and whilst Kierkegaard demands God as a justification that is
infinitely above all ethics and language, by removing this religious aspect
does that remove the bravery of a sane man doing an insane thing.? It is not so
different from bungee jumping. People say 'why would you want to jump off a
bridge?' and it is not uncommon for them to say 'you're insane' (though it is
meant tongue in cheek). When you stand
at the edge, you stand silently, a similar place to Abraham, between sanity and
insanity, between understandable and intelligible action and choice and if you
have the courage, you fall and you suspend your ethical duty to yourself, and
leave everything up to faith.
But moreover,
the absolute meaning of the silence is a humanism. You overcome yourself, all
others, and the world itself and this is not always found in reason but
insanity, like charging into battle. Everything pulls us back, the ethical duty
to yourself screams at you, the insanity of this choice echoes, but in the end
we roar and pull a war face and the fear twists. It is not fear of spilling
your blood that fills you but the fear of not spilling the enemies and in doing
so you go beyond yourself, and become the ideal of a warrior. I do not intend to say that violence is
humanism, but to truly grow is to push the boundaries of what you fear until
fear is lost and honour of oneself is claimed.
Abraham in the religious account did this infinitely, whereas the
warrior, on his death dies a tragic hero, going beyond himself, but still being
understood.
Abraham's
silence speaks infinitely louder than any word could, and in speaking he would
have done a violence to faith. So whilst
the silence is not a part of the language, for his silence express the
infinite, it is a gesture, which Wittgenstein describes as 'the gesture--we
should like to say--tries to portray, but cannot do' (Philosophical
investigations, para 434). If this were not so then Kierkegaard could not have
written about faith, and he never claims to know, but only wonders about
Abraham's mental life, like a detective trying to understand a criminal mind.
But Wittgenstein misses the irony in his all consuming logic. The gesture of going to church or celebrating
Christmas tries to portray faith. Yet this is not a humanism, for it is
faith within boundaries of tradition. It is an insincere gesture, not a honest
one, an agreement in the language of what faith is, which misses the point of
faith. To show faith would not be to attend church on a Sunday, but to do the
opposite of what is within the universal. That is faith, and that is irony.
At first the
scenes of Abraham's tale are filled with drama. We find sympathy for Sarah, woe
for Isaac and anger at Abraham, but all of a sudden we question ourselves for
once we understand how much a father loves his son, we ask 'why is he doing this,
have we missed something' and this intriguing revelation sends on the first
steps towards humanism. Wittgenstein is
so set on making sense he has missed the fact that some experiences are
nonsensical and he demands that they mean nothing, yet it seems that the
nonsense means everything, which is why it cannot be said.
Anyone who
has asked another who has tried a euphoric drug will ask, 'what is it like?' They will struggle to
describe it and say 'bliss'. Yet during the actual experience of the euphoria,
if they were asked the same, only silence would fall, accompanied by a smile.
The sober one walks into a room of people rolling around and sees only insanity
and stupidity, yet the ones who are euphoric feel infinity and so are silent.
This is why chemical experiences have to be had to be understand them. They
cannot be described, just like the faith of Abraham.
So
Wittgenstein’s thesis that the subjective, private experience of emotion or
colour cannot enter the language, even Kierkegaard would agree. But in the
irony of faith, this thesis cannot say it means nothing, for it is a gesture,
an honest gesture breathed in irony that causes introspection and so does
portray faith, in irony by looking at our subject, not a language, for
ultimately language is inadequate to account for the infinite subjective
experience.
It is this
irony that makes the silence of Abraham louder than words and what Wittgenstein
misses in his philosophy, for he presents reason and boundaries, instead of
nonsense and humanism. When I read
Kierkegaard I do not read a tale that has any religious significance to me, I
am not religious. What I read is a story
of self-belief in the eyes of judgement, of one who steps beyond boundaries and
becomes something more than himself. The experience means everything to those
who know it and nothing to those who do not and clearly Wittgenstein knows not,
for he sacrifices his heart for armour but Kierkegaard sacrifices armour for
his heart and this I think is the difference in their philosophy, the presence
of love and humanism, and this is why Abraham's silence is infinitely louder
then Wittgenstein’s words.
T.C.R.Moon
The
Philosophy Takeaway Issue 51 'Open Topic'
