axj
The Living Force
Maybe you could clarify for what purpose you need these categories.Are Aristotle categories the best? May there be other? Are there other?
To which category should I assign "knowledge"?
Maybe you could clarify for what purpose you need these categories.Are Aristotle categories the best? May there be other? Are there other?
To which category should I assign "knowledge"?
Julius Caesar valued clarity and simplicity in language above all else, especially in writing and speech intended to persuade or command.
The most famous quote attributed to him on this topic comes from his criticism of overly ornate or complicated prose. According to ancient sources (particularly quoted later by writers like Cicero and Fronto), Caesar reportedly said:“Avoid an unusual word as you would a reef.”
(Latin: “Ut tamquam scopulum, sic fugias inauditum atque insolens verbum.”)
This line appears in a letter fragment preserved by Aulus Gellius and others, where Caesar was advising on rhetorical style. He believed that obscure, rare, or affected words were dangerous obstacles to understanding—just like hidden reefs are to a sailor.
Effective communication, in his view (especially for military orders, political speeches, and historical writing), required plain, direct, and familiar language that everyone could grasp immediately.
His own writing style in Commentarii de Bello Gallico (The Gallic War) reflects this perfectly: it is famously clear, straightforward, and unadorned—so much so that it became a model prose for centuries of Latin students.
In short: Caesar championed simple, precise, and accessible language as a tool of power and clarity. Fancy words were not just unnecessary—they were risky.
It seems to me that a high IQ is often required to follow what Philosophers say. But, as we know, high IQ in and of itself doesn’t help much and most people just aren’t equipped with such fast/complicated “computing“ power.
I found Iain McGilchrist’s discussion about philosophers in Chapter 4 of The Master and his Emissary really intriguing for a different viewpoint on philosophy in general. McGilchrist said:To return to philosophy and the brain, we should expect them to illuminate one another: philosophy should help us understand the nature of the brain, and the nature of the brain should help to illuminate philosophical problems…
In Western philosophy for much of the last two thousand years, the nature of reality has been treated in terms of dichotomies: real versus ideal, subject versus object. Over time the meanings of the terms, and sometimes the terms themselves, have changed, and the constant need to transcend such dichotomies has led to modifications and qualifications of the kind of realism or idealism, the type of objectivism or subjectivism, but the essential issue has remained: how are we to connect the world and our minds? Since our world is brought into being by two hemispheres which constitute reality in profoundly different ways, it might seem likely that some of these dichotomies could be illuminated by the differences between the worlds each of the cerebral hemispheres brings into being.
It has nothing to do with the idea that, for example, one hemisphere might be subjective and the other objective. That's obviously untrue. Rather the point is that philosophy in the West is essentially a left-hemisphere process. It is verbal and analytic, requiring abstracted, decontextualised, disembodied thinking, dealing in categories, concerning itself with the nature of the general rather than the particular, and adopting a sequential, linear approach to truth, building the edifice of knowledge from the parts, brick by brick. While such a characterisation is not true of most preSocratic philosophers, particularly Heraclitus, it is at least true of the majority of philosophers since Plato in the West until the nineteenth century, when, for example, Schopenhauer, Hegel and Nietzsche began to question the basis on which philosophy made its advances. Philosophy is naturally given, therefore, to a left-hemisphere version of the world, in which such divides as that between the subject and the object seem especially problematic.
Though Husserl brought a background in Cartesian philosophy and the methodology of science to bear on mental phenomena, he came to realize that this philosophy and this methodology failed to account for the nature of experience. According to Husserl, the roots of the European crisis of modernism lay in ‘verirrenden Rationalismus’ and ‘Blindheit für das Transzendentale’ a sort of mad rationalism and a blindness to the transcendental. In his later philosophy, Husserl aimed to transcend the apparent duality of subjective and objective, of realism and idealism, that had so troubled philosophy since Plato: he emphasised the role that empathy, the capacity not just to put oneself in someone else's shoes but, importantly, to feel what they are feeling, plays in constructing the world. He came to the conclusion that there was an objective reality, but that it was constituted by what he called intersubjectivity. This comes about through shared experience, which is made possible for us by our embodied existence alongside other embodied individuals. He distinguished between the two ways in which we know the body: as a material object (Körper), alongside other objects in the world, and in that sense alien to us, and the way we experience it as something not just living, but lived (Leib), as it were from the inside. When we see others engaged in action in the world, we feel them to be leibhaft, as though we shared with them our consciousness of embodied existence.
In this emphasis on the body, the importance of empathy, and intersubjectivity (which forms part of what I mean by ‘betweenness’), Husserl is asserting the essential role that the right hemisphere plays in constituting the world in which we live. He, too, emphasises the importance of context: things only are what they are because they find themselves in the surroundings in which they find themselves, and are connected to whatever it is that they are connected to. This raises the spectre of epistemological circularity, since achieving an understanding of any one thing depends on an understanding of the whole; and the tools of language and logical analysis take one away from context, back to the set of familiar concepts that, if one is a philosopher, one is constantly trying to transcend through analysis in language. That was the purpose of what he called the phenomenological reductions. His own approach is linear, but is forced to acknowledge the awkward truth displayed in Escher's hands. The world arises from a circular process that circles and searches its origins, more like a picture that comes into focus all at once, than a linear address to a target: by a right-hemisphere process, in other words, rather than a left.
Gurdjieff quoted by Ouspensky, "In Search of the Miraculous",
"Knowledge by itself does not give understanding. Nor is understanding increased by an increase of knowledge alone. Understanding depends upon the relation of knowledge to being. Understanding is the resultant of knowledge and being. And knowledge and being must not diverge too far, otherwise understanding will prove to be far removed from either. At the same time the relation of knowledge to being does not change with a mere growth of knowledge. It changes only when being grows simultaneously with knowledge. In other words, understanding grows only with the growth of being.