CHAPTER IX

APPLICATION TO KANT’S THEORY OF EXPERIENCE

When we observe the heavenly bodies we become aware that they all

participate in one universal motion—a diurnal revolution round the

polar axis.

In the case of fixed stars this is most unqualifiedly true, but in the

case of the sun, and the planets also, the single motion of revolution

can be discerned, modified, and slightly altered by other and secondary

motions.

Hence the universal characteristic of the celestial bodies is that they

move in a diurnal circle.

But we know that this one great fact which is true of them all has in

reality nothing to do with them. The diurnal revolution which they

visibly perform is the result of the condition of the observer. It is

because the observer is on a rotating earth that a universal statement

can be made about all the celestial bodies.

The universal statement which is valid about every one of the celestial

bodies is that which does not concern them at all, and is but a

statement of the condition of the observer.

Now there are universal statements of other kinds which we can make. We

can say that all objects of experience are in space and subject to the

laws of geometry.

Does this mean that space and all that it means is due to a condition

of the observer?

If a universal law in one case means nothing affecting the objects

themselves, but only a condition of observation, is this true in every

case? There is shown us in astronomy a _vera causa_ for the assertion

of a universal. Is the same cause to be traced everywhere?

Such is a first approximation to the doctrine of Kant’s critique.

It is the apprehension of a relation into which, on the one side and

the other, perfectly definite constituents enter—the human observer and

the stars—and a transference of this relation to a region in which the

constituents on either side are perfectly unknown.

If spatiality is due to a condition of the observer, the observer

cannot be this bodily self of ours—the body, like the objects around

it, are equally in space.

This conception Kant applied, not only to the intuitions of sense, but

to the concepts of reason—wherever a universal statement is made there

is afforded him an opportunity for the application of his principle.

He constructed a system in which one hardly knows which the most to

admire, the architectonic skill, or the reticence with regard to things

in themselves, and the observer in himself.

His system can be compared to a garden, somewhat formal perhaps, but

with the charm of a quality more than intellectual, a _besonnenheit_,

an exquisite moderation over all. And from the ground he so carefully

prepared with that buried in obscurity, which it is fitting should be

obscure, science blossoms and the tree of real knowledge grows.

The critique is a storehouse of ideas of profound interest. The one

of which I have given a partial statement leads, as we shall see

on studying it in detail, to a theory of mathematics suggestive of

enquiries in many directions.

The justification for my treatment will be found amongst other passages

in that part of the transcendental analytic, in which Kant speaks of

objects of experience subject to the forms of sensibility, not subject

to the concepts of reason.

Kant asserts that whenever we think we think of objects in space and

time, but he denies that the space and time exist as independent

entities. He goes about to explain them, and their universality, not by

assuming them, as most other philosophers do, but by postulating their

absence. How then does it come to pass that the world is in space and

time to us?

Kant takes the same position with regard to what we call nature—a great

system subject to law and order. “How do you explain the law and order

in nature?” we ask the philosophers. All except Kant reply by assuming

law and order somewhere, and then showing how we can recognise it.

In explaining our notions, philosophers from other than the Kantian

standpoint, assume the notions as existing outside us, and then it is

no difficult task to show how they come to us, either by inspiration or

by observation.

We ask “Why do we have an idea of law in nature?” “Because natural

processes go according to law,” we are answered, “and experience

inherited or acquired, gives us this notion.”

But when we speak about the law in nature we are speaking about a

notion of our own. So all that these expositors do is to explain our

notion by an assumption of it.

Kant is very different. He supposes nothing. An experience such as ours

is very different from experience in the abstract. Imagine just simply

experience, succession of states, of consciousness! Why, there would be

no connecting any two together, there would be no personal identity,

no memory. It is out of a general experience such as this, which, in

respect to anything we call real, is less than a dream, that Kant shows

the genesis of an experience such as ours.

Kant takes up the problem of the explanation of space, time, order, and

so quite logically does not presuppose them.

But how, when every act of thought is of things in space, and time,

and ordered, shall we represent to ourselves that perfectly indefinite

somewhat which is Kant’s necessary hypothesis—that which is not in

space or time and is not ordered. That is our problem, to represent

that which Kant assumes not subject to any of our forms of thought, and

then show some function which working on that makes it into a “nature”

subject to law and order, in space and time. Such a function Kant

calls the “Unity of Apperception”; _i.e._, that which makes our state

of consciousness capable of being woven into a system with a self, an

outer world, memory, law, cause, and order.

The difficulty that meets us in discussing Kant’s hypothesis is that

everything we think of is in space and time—how then shall we represent

in space an existence not in space, and in time an existence not in

time? This difficulty is still more evident when we come to construct

a poiograph, for a poiograph is essentially a space structure. But

because more evident the difficulty is nearer a solution. If we always

think in space, _i.e._ using space concepts, the first condition

requisite for adapting them to the representation of non-spatial

existence, is to be aware of the limitation of our thought, and so be

able to take the proper steps to overcome it. The problem before us,

then, is to represent in space an existence not in space.

The solution is an easy one. It is provided by the conception of

alternativity.

To get our ideas clear let us go right back behind the distinctions of

an inner and an outer world. Both of these, Kant says, are products.

Let us take merely states of consciousness, and not ask the question

whether they are produced or superinduced—to ask such a question is to

have got too far on, to have assumed something of which we have not

traced the origin. Of these states let us simply say that they occur.

Let us now use the word a “posit” for a phase of consciousness reduced

to its last possible stage of evanescence; let a posit be that phase of

consciousness of which all that can be said is that it occurs.

Let _a_, _b_, _c_, be three such posits. We cannot represent them in

space without placing them in a certain order, as _a_, _b_, _c_. But

Kant distinguishes between the forms of sensibility and the concepts

of reason. A dream in which everything happens at haphazard would be

an experience subject to the form of sensibility and only partially

subject to the concepts of reason. It is partially subject to the

concepts of reason because, although there is no order of sequence,

still at any given time there is order. Perception of a thing as in

space is a form of sensibility, the perception of an order is a concept

of reason.

We must, therefore, in order to get at that process which Kant supposes

to be constitutive of an ordered experience imagine the posits as in

space without order.

As we know them they must be in some order, _abc_, _bca_, _cab_, _acb_,

_cba_, _bac_, one or another.

To represent them as having no order conceive all these different

orders as equally existing. Introduce the conception of

alternativity—let us suppose that the order _abc_, and _bac_, for

example, exist equally, so that we cannot say about _a_ that it comes

before or after _b_. This would correspond to a sudden and arbitrary

change of _a_ into _b_ and _b_ into _a_, so that, to use Kant’s words,

it would be possible to call one thing by one name at one time and at

another time by another name.

In an experience of this kind we have a kind of chaos, in which no

order exists; it is a manifold not subject to the concepts of reason.

Now is there any process by which order can be introduced into such a

manifold—is there any function of consciousness in virtue of which an

ordered experience could arise?

In the precise condition in which the posits are, as described above,

it does not seem to be possible. But if we imagine a duality to exist

in the manifold, a function of consciousness can be easily discovered

which will produce order out of no order.

Let us imagine each posit, then, as having, a dual aspect. Let _a_ be

1_a_ in which the dual aspect is represented by the combination of

symbols. And similarly let _b_ be 2_b_, _c_ be 3_c_, in which 2 and _b_

represent the dual aspects of _b_, 3 and _c_ those of _c_.

Since _a_ can arbitrarily change into _b_, or into _c_, and so on, the

particular combinations written above cannot be kept. We have to assume

the equally possible occurrence of form such as 2_a_, 2_b_, and so on;

and in order to get a representation of all those combinations out of

which any set is alternatively possible, we must take every aspect with

every aspect. We must, that is, have every letter with every number.

Let us now apply the method of space representation.

_Note._—At the beginning of the next chapter the same structures as

those which follow are exhibited in more detail and a reference to

them will remove any obscurity which may be found in the immediately

following passages. They are there carried on to a greater

multiplicity of dimensions, and the significance of the process here

briefly explained becomes more apparent.

[Illustration: Fig. 59.]

Take three mutually rectangular axes in space 1, 2, 3 (fig. 59), and

on each mark three points, the common meeting point being the first on

each axis. Then by means of these three points on each axis we define

27 positions, 27 points in a cubical cluster, shown in fig. 60, the

same method of co-ordination being used as has been described before.

Each of these positions can be named by means of the axes and the

points combined.

[Illustration: Fig. 60.]

Thus, for instance, the one marked by an asterisk can be called 1_c_,

2_b_, 3_c_, because it is opposite to _c_ on 1, to _b_ on 2, to _c_ on

3.

Let us now treat of the states of consciousness corresponding to

these positions. Each point represents a composite of posits, and

the manifold of consciousness corresponding to them is of a certain

complexity.

Suppose now the constituents, the points on the axes, to interchange

arbitrarily, any one to become any other, and also the axes 1, 2, and

3, to interchange amongst themselves, any one to become any other, and

to be subject to no system or law, that is to say, that order does not

exist, and that the points which run _abc_ on each axis may run _bac_,

and so on.

Then any one of the states of consciousness represented by the points

in the cluster can become any other. We have a representation of a

random consciousness of a certain degree of complexity.

Now let us examine carefully one particular case of arbitrary

interchange of the points, _a_, _b_, _c_; as one such case, carefully

considered, makes the whole clear.

[Illustration: Fig. 61.]

Consider the points named in the figure 1_c_, 2_a_, 3_c_; 1_c_, 2_c_,

3_a_; 1_a_, 2_c_, 3_c_, and examine the effect on them when a change of

order takes place. Let us suppose, for instance, that _a_ changes into

_b_, and let us call the two sets of points we get, the one before and

the one after, their change conjugates.

Before the change 1_c_ 2_a_ 3_c_ 1_c_ 2_c_ 3_a_ 1_a_ 2_c_ 3_c_}Conjug-

After the change 1_c_ 2_b_ 3_c_ 1_c_ 2_c_ 3_b_ 1_b_ 2_c_ 3_c_} ates.

The points surrounded by rings represent the conjugate points.

It is evident that as consciousness, represented first by the first

set of points and afterwards by the second set of points, would have

nothing in common in its two phases. It would not be capable of giving

an account of itself. There would be no identity.

If, however, we can find any set of points in the cubical cluster,

which, when any arbitrary change takes place in the points on the

axes, or in the axes themselves, repeats itself, is reproduced, then a

consciousness represented by those points would have a permanence. It

would have a principle of identity. Despite the no law, the no order,

of the ultimate constituents, it would have an order, it would form a

system, the condition of a personal identity would be fulfilled.

The question comes to this, then. Can we find a system of points

which is self-conjugate which is such that when any posit on the axes

becomes any other, or when any axis becomes any other, such a set

is transformed into itself, its identity is not submerged, but rises

superior to the chaos of its constituents?

[Illustration: Fig. 62.]

Such a set can be found. Consider the set represented in fig. 62, and

written down in the first of the two lines—

Self- {1_a_ 2_b_ 3_c_ 1_b_ 2_a_ 3_c_ 1_c_ 2_a_ 3_b_

conjugate. {1_c_ 2_b_ 3_a_ 1_b_ 2_c_ 3_a_ 1_a_ 2_c_ 3_b_

Self- {1_c_ 2_b_ 3_a_ 1_b_ 2_c_ 3_a_ 1_a_ 2_c_ 3_b_

conjugate. {1_a_ 2_b_ 3_c_ 1_b_ 2_a_ 3_c_ 1_c_ 2_a_ 3_b_

If now _a_ change into _c_ and _c_ into _a_, we get the set in the

second line, which has the same members as are in the upper line.

Looking at the diagram we see that it would correspond simply to the

turning of the figures as a whole.[2] Any arbitrary change of the

points on the axes, or of the axes themselves, reproduces the same set.

[2] These figures are described more fully, and extended, in the next

chapter.

Thus, a function, by which a random, an unordered, consciousness

could give an ordered and systematic one, can be represented. It

is noteworthy that it is a system of selection. If out of all the

alternative forms that only is attended to which is self-conjugate,

an ordered consciousness is formed. A selection gives a feature of

permanence.

Can we say that the permanent consciousness is this selection?

An analogy between Kant and Darwin comes into light. That which is

swings clear of the fleeting, in virtue of its presenting a feature of

permanence. There is no need to suppose any function of “attending to.”

A consciousness capable of giving an account of itself is one which is

characterised by this combination. All combinations exist—of this kind

is the consciousness which can give an account of itself. And the very

duality which we have presupposed may be regarded as originated by a

process of selection.

Darwin set himself to explain the origin of the fauna and flora of

the world. He denied specific tendencies. He assumed an indefinite

variability—that is, chance—but a chance confined within narrow limits

as regards the magnitude of any consecutive variations. He showed that

organisms possessing features of permanence, if they occurred would be

preserved. So his account of any structure or organised being was that

it possessed features of permanence.

Kant, undertaking not the explanation of any particular phenomena but

of that which we call nature as a whole, had an origin of species

of his own, an account of the flora and fauna of consciousness. He

denied any specific tendency of the elements of consciousness, but

taking our own consciousness, pointed out that in which it resembled

any consciousness which could survive, which could give an account of

itself.

He assumes a chance or random world, and as great and small were not

to him any given notions of which he could make use, he did not limit

the chance, the randomness, in any way. But any consciousness which

is permanent must possess certain features—those attributes namely

which give it permanence. Any consciousness like our own is simply a

consciousness which possesses those attributes. The main thing is that

which he calls the unity of apperception, which we have seen above is

simply the statement that a particular set of phases of consciousness

on the basis of complete randomness will be self-conjugate, and so

permanent.

As with Darwin so with Kant, the reason for existence of any feature

comes to this—show that it tends to the permanence of that which

possesses it.

We can thus regard Kant as the creator of the first of the modern

evolution theories. And, as is so often the case, the first effort was

the most stupendous in its scope. Kant does not investigate the origin

of any special part of the world, such as its organisms, its chemical

elements, its social communities of men. He simply investigates the

origin of the whole—of all that is included in consciousness, the

origin of that “thought thing” whose progressive realisation is the

knowable universe.

This point of view is very different from the ordinary one, in which a

man is supposed to be placed in a world like that which he has come to

think of it, and then to learn what he has found out from this model

which he himself has placed on the scene.

We all know that there are a number of questions in attempting an

answer to which such an assumption is not allowable.

Mill, for instance, explains our notion of “law” by an invariable

sequence in nature. But what we call nature is something given in

thought. So he explains a thought of law and order by a thought of an

invariable sequence. He leaves the problem where he found it.

Kant’s theory is not unique and alone. It is one of a number of

evolution theories. A notion of its import and significance can be

obtained by a comparison of it with other theories.

Thus in Darwin’s theoretical world of natural selection a certain

assumption is made, the assumption of indefinite variability—slight

variability it is true, over any appreciable lapse of time, but

indefinite in the postulated epochs of transformation—and a whole chain

of results is shown to follow.

This element of chance variation is not, however, an ultimate resting

place. It is a preliminary stage. This supposing the all is a

preliminary step towards finding out what is. If every kind of organism

can come into being, those that do survive will present such and such

characteristics. This is the necessary beginning for ascertaining what

kinds of organisms do come into existence. And so Kant’s hypothesis

of a random consciousness is the necessary beginning for the rational

investigation of consciousness as it is. His assumption supplies, as

it were, the space in which we can observe the phenomena. It gives the

general laws constitutive of any experience. If, on the assumption

of absolute randomness in the constituents, such and such would be

characteristic of the experience, then, whatever the constituents,

these characteristics must be universally valid.

We will now proceed to examine more carefully the poiograph,

constructed for the purpose of exhibiting an illustration of Kant’s

unity of apperception.

In order to show the derivation order out of non-order it has been

necessary to assume a principle of duality—we have had the axes and the

posits on the axes—there are two sets of elements, each non-ordered,

and it is in the reciprocal relation of them that the order, the

definite system, originates.

Is there anything in our experience of the nature of a duality?

There certainly are objects in our experience which have order and

those which are incapable of order. The two roots of a quadratic

equation have no order. No one can tell which comes first. If a body

rises vertically and then goes at right angles to its former course,

no one can assign any priority to the direction of the north or to

the east. There is no priority in directions of turning. We associate

turnings with no order progressions in a line with order. But in the

axes and points we have assumed above there is no such distinction.

It is the same, whether we assume an order among the turnings, and no

order among the points on the axes, or, _vice versa_, an order in the

points and no order in the turnings. A being with an infinite number of

axes mutually at right angles, with a definite sequence between them

and no sequence between the points on the axes, would be in a condition

formally indistinguishable from that of a creature who, according to an

assumption more natural to us, had on each axis an infinite number of

ordered points and no order of priority amongst the axes. A being in

such a constituted world would not be able to tell which was turning

and which was length along an axis, in order to distinguish between

them. Thus to take a pertinent illustration, we may be in a world

of an infinite number of dimensions, with three arbitrary points on

each—three points whose order is indifferent, or in a world of three

axes of arbitrary sequence with an infinite number of ordered points on

each. We can’t tell which is which, to distinguish it from the other.

Thus it appears the mode of illustration which we have used is not an

artificial one. There really exists in nature a duality of the kind

which is necessary to explain the origin of order out of no order—the

duality, namely, of dimension and position. Let us use the term group

for that system of points which remains unchanged, whatever arbitrary

change of its constituents takes place. We notice that a group involves

a duality, is inconceivable without a duality.

Thus, according to Kant, the primary element of experience is the

group, and the theory of groups would be the most fundamental branch

of science. Owing to an expression in the critique the authority of

Kant is sometimes adduced against the assumption of more than three

dimensions to space. It seems to me, however, that the whole tendency

of his theory lies in the opposite direction, and points to a perfect

duality between dimension and position in a dimension.

If the order and the law we see is due to the conditions of conscious

experience, we must conceive nature as spontaneous, free, subject to no

predication that we can devise, but, however apprehended, subject to

our logic.

And our logic is simply spatiality in the general sense—that resultant

of a selection of the permanent from the unpermanent, the ordered from

the unordered, by the means of the group and its underlying duality.

We can predicate nothing about nature, only about the way in which

we can apprehend nature. All that we can say is that all that which

experience gives us will be conditioned as spatial, subject to our

logic. Thus, in exploring the facts of geometry from the simplest

logical relations to the properties of space of any number of

dimensions, we are merely observing ourselves, becoming aware of the

conditions under which we must perceive. Do any phenomena present

themselves incapable of explanation under the assumption of the space

we are dealing with, then we must habituate ourselves to the conception

of a higher space, in order that our logic may be equal to the task

before us.

We gain a repetition of the thought that came before, experimentally

suggested. If the laws of the intellectual comprehension of nature are

those derived from considering her as absolute chance, subject to no

law save that derived from a process of selection, then, perhaps, the

order of nature requires different faculties from the intellectual to

apprehend it. The source and origin of ideas may have to be sought

elsewhere than in reasoning.

The total outcome of the critique is to leave the ordinary man just

where he is, justified in his practical attitude towards nature,

liberated from the fetters of his own mental representations.

The truth of a picture lies in its total effect. It is vain to seek

information about the landscape from an examination of the pigments.

And in any method of thought it is the complexity of the whole that

brings us to a knowledge of nature. Dimensions are artificial enough,

but in the multiplicity of them we catch some breath of nature.

We must therefore, and this seems to me the practical conclusion of the

whole matter, proceed to form means of intellectual apprehension of a

greater and greater degree of complexity, both dimensionally and in

extent in any dimension. Such means of representation must always be

artificial, but in the multiplicity of the elements with which we deal,

however incipiently arbitrary, lies our chance of apprehending nature.

And as a concluding chapter to this part of the book, I will extend

the figures, which have been used to represent Kant’s theory, two

steps, so that the reader may have the opportunity of looking at a

four-dimensional figure which can be delineated without any of the

special apparatus, to the consideration of which I shall subsequently

pass on.

The Fourth Dimension · 第 9 / 14 章