A Loose Middle Way Between Realism and Constructivism

Preface

I created this illustrated version of the attempt to theoretically develop a middle way between realist and constructivist modes of thinking as a psychologist with a focus on cognitive science. It is intended to assist readers of Philosophy of a Middle Way (Christoph-Gaugusch 2020) in their thinking, or conversely, to serve as an introduction to this philosophy.

I am interested in how I can describe human "perception," "language," "thinking," "memory," "attention," "consciousness" (and much more) as concisely and precisely as possible from a perspective that observes observations — a second-order cybernetics.

Some thoughts require space in order to unfold. Here I have given such space — externally expressed, written-down thoughts (even though we cannot literally see thoughts) — and to ideas, which may also take the form of images.

These pages are meant to show that philosophy can possess entertainment value. Wit opens thinking, and such openness is necessary if something new is to enter a system. Wherever we close ourselves off, nothing can enter. Yet nobody can be completely closed off — unless they are "not quite all there." Thus I wish you much enjoyment in reading and viewing, and thereby in enriching my signs and images with meaning and significance here and now.

This text is written loosely enough that I treat it like an informal seminar manuscript and therefore make it publicly available. It nevertheless remains protected by copyright.

— Andrea Christoph-Gaugusch

A Brief Guide to (Philosophical) Disobedience

1. Never believe anything that is written in philosophical books (or comics). Always examine it using your own intellect. Everything — including these seven principles.
2. If something is written so complicatedly that you cannot understand it, that does not necessarily mean the fault lies with you. It may simply be nonsense — though not necessarily.
3. Be especially critical when it comes to so-called "constructivism." Carefully examine the assumptions of different constructivist schools. Do certain assumptions repeat themselves? Then inspect them closely. Why do these thinkers need such fixed foundations? What purpose do they serve?
4. Examine whether you have actually understood what you have read. Life itself reveals this. Therefore try to apply what you have read.
5. If something is impractical, if it cannot be applied anywhere, then you can probably forget it again. Usually that happens automatically. But perhaps you simply need to attempt the application once more.
6. If what you think you have understood benefits no one — or perhaps even harms someone — then it is useless. It is of no value in life.
7. Does it speak not only of the devil but also of love? If not, then it is equally useless. It does not live.

On Cognitive Science

Fortunately, the "object of study" for psychologists is not merely the psyche. Rather, psychologists concern themselves with human experience and behavior.

When psychologists engage with philosophy — which apparently does happen from time to time — then such an elegant creature may even practice cognitive science: an interdisciplinary undertaking that spans many different branches of research.

Everything presented here emerged from reconstructive reflections within language. It is not empirical data that guides my thinking, but rather a reflexive gaze. Incidentally, this is very cost-efficient, because I can do it — think — anywhere and at any time, independent of institutions and research funding. Thinking costs no money. It is freely available to every human being.

That we are furthermore capable of investigating ourselves through thinking and observation — of engaging in reflection — is itself something that theoretically ought not be taken for granted.

If something reveals itself reconstructively in language, then it is only logical that it can also reveal itself empirically, since logical considerations ideally precede every empirical study. I lack the means for empirical studies and am not affiliated with any institute. Data that we obtain empirically must first be collected. They are subject to selective, observer-dependent choices.

A reflexive gaze within language operates in the very medium upon which every empirical investigation is founded. In this respect, I consider the insights gained in this way preferable to empirical data. This is the essence of philosophy — and fortunately for me.

Naturally, I can also attempt to calm my mind — my thoughts and feelings — to step out of language and thought. If I proceed in this way, I no longer have anything to say. I can no longer participate in discourse. Yet this is not necessarily tragic.

A Biopsychosocial Approach

In this work I consistently pursue a biopsychosocial approach. I illuminate realist assumptions within constructivist thinking that have always already been present in discourse without reflection, and by reflecting upon these assumptions I develop a middle way between realist and constructivist considerations.

Thus, within constructivist discourse, the existence of biological forms — a brain, a nervous system, a blind spot, and so forth — is always absolutely presupposed. If these realist assumptions are allowed to enter the discourse consciously, new and, in my opinion, highly practical possibilities emerge.

This work should therefore be read as a critique of "biological constructivism" — particularly the work of Humberto Maturana and Francisco Varela — and of all approaches built upon it.

I do not begin with a "nervous system" or a "brain" that invents, calculates, or constructs its realities. Rather, I reconstruct how we arrive at the knowledge that we possess brains and nervous systems (among many other things). This path is rarely taken, but I consider it highly exciting and illuminating.

Reflexive considerations in everyday language are the very steps through which this philosophy of a middle way emerges.

My primary focus is therefore not the brain or nervous system itself, but rather the communicative interrelations and the concepts through which realities emerge — and naturally these realities include nervous systems.

Contrary to common constructivist assumptions, yet in accordance with a second-order cybernetics (the observation of observations), I already regard the physical body as mentally shaped insofar as we have already observed it whenever we speak of particular parts — the nervous system, the brain, a cell, and so forth — or of the "body" as a "body."

At times, reading these assembled sentences may feel somewhat dizzying, but that is simply the nature of circular processes and of a philosophy without foundations. Everyone remains free to step out of my merry-go-round at any moment and perhaps eat cotton candy instead.

On the Here and Now

The so-called "here" and also the "now" are already subject to human distinction-making. An observer conceptually establishes the here (the context) and the now (the moment).

Some speak of a temporal window of approximately two to three seconds that we subjectively experience as "now." After about three seconds, we feel that, for example, one "click" no longer belongs to the previous "click." Everything occurring within two to three seconds, however, is perceived as "one gestalt" (Pöppel 2000, p. 64).

We tend to exclude the significance of the here and now from psychological theories. Yet a concept only ever makes sense in the here and now. This also applies to concepts from cognitive science — thinking, memory, attention, concentration, and so forth.

Our models should be grounded in the here and now, because everything is always only here and now.

On Reading

Because reading has become second nature to us, we often overlook what an immense cognitive act it actually is.

We perceive something that immediately appears meaningful to us. We have learned rules regarding how a particular form is to be enriched with meaning and how these so-called "letters" are to be connected within the mind.

The letters, the signs, the drawn forms — they exist upon a background, a surface (paper, stone, screens, and so on) outside the observer, unless the observer is tattooed or has just swallowed a book (or a screen).

Signs become meaningful through observation — or through touch in the case of blind individuals.

Constructivist discourse rarely reflects upon reading. It is simply presupposed, just as signs themselves are rarely further deconstructed, even though such deconstruction is fundamentally nothing other than a reflection on reading.

But this omission is not limited to constructivist discourse alone. Reading itself is a prerequisite that is often overlooked — presumably because it appears entirely self-evident, especially within academic settings.

For this reason, philosophers often begin with signs and symbols, rather than asking how these signs and symbols become signs and symbols here and now.

This conceptual — rather than empirical — investigation forms part of the present work.

What Something Is

In order to follow this philosophy, it is not enough to remain merely "everyday" in one's thinking.

You must — and this truly is a must — attempt to increase the depth of your thinking.

Here is a brief guide for increasing the depth of thought. If you will, it is a staircase leading into the cellar rooms — in six images — which you may throw away as soon as you have arrived below and firmly locked the door from the inside. Perhaps this has already happened here and now.

Basic Features of a Philosophy of a Middle Way

Radical constructivists such as Ernst von Glasersfeld and Heinz von Foerster — and all those who appeal to them — presuppose the observer and his or her biological form, especially the nervous system, as absolutely given.

Here I attempt to insert a reflexive loop, because these structures have already been observed and described — mentally and physically formed.

In my opinion, this is the key to a philosophy of a middle way that on the one hand assumes that observers linguistically construct and reconstruct their realities by conceptually grasping something as something, yet on the other hand does not remain trapped in solipsism and relativism.

For as observers, we cannot observe ourselves in a disembodied manner. The brain is, here and now, just as real as my left toe — provided someone saws open my skull slightly. And if this applies to my brain and my left toe, then it must also apply to everything that can come into contact

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