A Wittgensteinian Dissolution of the Question of Space

 

Copyright © 2006-2008 by C. L. Brown – UnrestrictedPhilosophy.com

 

   We begin with the following question: what is space?  In presenting a question such as this the more or less traditional approach towards it has been to turn one’s attention towards the object of interrogation, namely, in this case, space.  Wittgenstein, however, notes that the mystery accompanying questions like this, namely, those of the form “what is X?” has nothing to do with the object of interrogation but rather with the grammar of the word “X.”  We ask questions of the form “what is X?” because we have become puzzled or confused over the grammar, or as Wittgenstein would prefer, the usage of the word “X” in our everyday lives.  In this specific case it is the everyday use of the word “space” which manages to puzzle us.1  “It appears we don’t know what it means, and that therefore, perhaps, we have no right to use it.”2  As a result of this we express such confusion, such puzzlement with, in the words of Wittgenstein, the “slightly misleading” question, in our case, “what is space?”  Such a “question is an utterance of unclarity, of mental discomfort, and it is comparable with the question ‘Why?’ as children so often ask it.”3  In terms of such a question “we are up against one of the great sources of philosophical bewilderment: we try to find a substance for a substantive.”4

 

   It is favorable for us to know that we are not the first to note the bothersome effect a question of the form “what is X?” seems to have on us.  One need look no further than Augustine of Hippo for one of the better known instances of this.  In his Confessions XI.14 Augustine reveals a seemingly instinctual familiarity with what is a preverbal notion of time, as what all of us probably do have, and yet also the inability to literally account for what time is.  “What, then, is time?  I know well enough what it is, provided that nobody asks me; but if I am asked what it is and try to explain, I am baffled.”5  It might seem based on Augustine’s reply that as long as time remains for him at the subconscious, preverbal level – as when “nobody asks me” – it resides below the threshold of perception free of any apprehension as to what it might be.  When asked to make the conscious effort to explain what time is, however, Augustine’s mind buckles, for all of a sudden is time now indefinable.  Why is this?  What has happened here?  Our answer to this is that time went from being nothing (as what it initially was in the subconscious, so to speak) to being something, in particular some thing.  Likewise, “time” in the very question’s being asked becomes entrenched as the name of this thing.  The latter here is of particular importance to us, for it elucidates what is the basis of the so-called Augustinian theory of language.  With Augustine, as Wittgenstein relates to us, “the individual words in language name objects.”6  It is as if every noun, grammatically speaking, and every noun substantive, syntactically speaking, which is found in our language becomes as it were a common or proper name of something.  Accordingly, to ask then “what is X?” is to be making implicit the notion that “X” the word is or must therefore be a name of some sort.  In order then to adequately answer “what is X?” one needs to actually acquire somehow either a or the thing named “X.”  Under the auspice of this thinking, we can thus say that if asked “what is X?” we instinctively therefore look for a bearer named “X.”  In a problem similar with Augustine and time and thus us with space, we can say that the finding of a substantial bearer named “space” can prove to be frustratingly difficult.  Where in the real, natural world do we find a thing or even just something – anything for that matter – named “space”?  Our answer is we don’t, and for us this is troubling.  

 

   If we reflect for a moment upon our predicament it might occur to us that a possible remedy to our malady could begin to be found if we simply do not, upon being asked the question “what is space?” look for any thing, any object, any bearer identifiable as “space” in name.  Our decision not to attempt a search for an answer of substance to this question can be justified if we can recognize in it the flash point for our problem.  Wittgenstein, as made known to us by way of his collaboration with Waismann, identifies the interrogative “what” as being the source of tension for us.7  Such tension “arises out of a false grammatical background, since to the word ‘what’ we imagine some ‘this’ to correspond or expect some ‘this’ to be an answer.”8  In our imagining or expecting a this as our answer, we desperately set out looking for a thing named “space.”  To this end “one searches compulsively for a meaning, a sense, and on finding no such thing, one supposes that what is sought must be some ethereal essence.”9  All we know of the “ethereal” is of the “queer role” which it plays in our philosophy, as “when we perceive that a substantive is not used as what in general we should call the name of an object, and when therefore we can’t help saying to ourselves that it is the name of an aethereal object.”10  A substantive’s not being used for what in general is the name of something: perhaps we are then in the words of Miller correct to “discover – to our philosophical chagrin – that, though nominal, we do not generally use the substantive as a nomen, that is, to name an object.”11  This gives us confidence to say then that “space” is not used as the name of any material object but rather as the name of an aethereal one, the latter of which we know as being a subterfuge – a means of deceit for something we are embarrassed as not knowing.12  It stands to reason then that any speculation on (the nature of) space in terms of asking “what is space?” will not yield any underlying nature of any type of substantial being.13  With this now understood we might be allowed to excuse ourselves from searching for an object named “space” when presented with this question. 

 

   After having now made the argument that we ought not look for an object or thing named “space” because “space” is not used as the name of a material or substantial (as opposed to “aethereal”) object, we ought to consider what Wittgenstein posed as a “solution”, if it can be called one, to a question like ours.  Let us take as our example of this Wittgenstein’s comments concerning time and in particular the question “what then is time?”  The following insight by way of Waismann is worth quoting at length. 

 

But in fact the question is similar to the question ‘What is time?’  In everyday discourse the word ‘time’ causes us no difficulties.  We say: ‘I have no time’, ‘this is not the time for that’, ‘much time has passed since then’, ‘that takes time’, etc., etc.  Now the philosopher comes along and asks: ‘What kind of a thing is time really?’  From this question springs the conviction that there must be some kind of deeper insight into the nature of time, some grasp of its true nature.  The philosopher’s question suggests that people have never known precisely enough what time is, that they have had only a rough and distant conception of it, whereas he himself wishes to say absolutely precisely what it is.  He then asks: Is time the same thing as the events that take place in it? or is it the position of the clock-hand?  And if it is replied that none of these is time itself, then the question arises ‘What then is time?’  And now one seeks some definition, e.g. ‘Time is the form of what happens’, ‘Time is the possibility of change’, etc., whereas the simple truth is that just this whole loose and complex pattern of speaking provides the true meaning of the word ‘time’ and that there is nothing else to be done other than describe the complete grammar of this word.  If we are in a position to understand and use the word in all its combinations and contexts, then we in fact know exactly what time is and no formula can express it more exactly.14

 

Wittgenstein’s proposal on how to cope with Augustine’s famed question of what is time is not to offer anything definite in response, in particular, to offer an account which can or could be construed as signifying a perceived whatness to or essence behind time as if time was a thing or type of thing.  An “answer” of this form would be a definition in that a definition – as understood at least by Aristotle – is an expression indicating the essence of a thing, not a word.15  “The form of what happens” and “the possibility of change”: these are two examples of essentialist definition which Wittgenstein at least mentions before summarily rejecting in favor of what for him is “the simple truth” – that we know exactly what time is provided we know how to speak the language of “time.”  It is conceivable perhaps even anticipatable that one may look at all of this and feel that what would be Wittgenstein’s non-definitional reply as to what space is, namely, an understanding of how to use the word “space” in its variety of combinations and contexts – an almost anti-answer of sorts – is nothing more than a cop-out for a search for something real, for something substantial.  To this we have two responses.  First, as mentioned we simply do not find anywhere in the real world a real thing or object named “space.”  We simply don’t; thus, to assail Wittgenstein or even us for that matter for overriding the notion of (an essentialist) definition – which according to Aristotle applies only to a real thing – as the preferred form of answer is to simply be in the wrong.16  Secondly, such a reply might indeed be considered a cop-out if we were metaphysicians inclined with finding an essence behind the word, so to speak.  The philosopher as understood by Wittgenstein, however, has a different task before him.  Metaphysics may lead us in the search for something hidden, something substantial behind the term “space”, but “philosophy simply puts everything before us, and neither explains nor deduces anything.  Since everything lies open to view there is nothing to explain.”17  We invoke here the dictum that “essence is expressed by grammar.”18  By this expression it may be meant by Wittgenstein that for us it is not a metaphysical evaluation of the content of the word, say, “X” which we implement in order to arrive at an understanding of what X is but rather instead a description of how the word “X” has significance to us when we confess “X exists” or “X is”, respectively.  Such a view precipitates for us then the need to have an understanding of not only the context of language which surrounds “X” but also, of course, a familiarity of the usage of “X” within that context.  It is precisely this understanding and familiarity, in our case, with the word “space” which Wittgenstein proposes we must have in order to know “what space is.”  This really is the only task in front of us, that is, to “describe the complete grammar of this word.”19  This task is never quite completed, and yet it does bring to us a sense of completion.  Our now knowing how to “solve” or “answer”, if we can call it that, the question “what is space?” or “what is X?” in general is what does bring to us a sense of peace if not contentment.  This is for us the “real discovery” spoken of by Wittgenstein, “the one that makes me capable of stopping doing philosophy when I want to.”20  It is “the one that gives philosophy peace, so that it is no longer tormented by questions which bring itself in question.”21  Our method of “solving” this question and others like it, i.e. those of the form “what is X?” where “X” is a commonly spoken word in our language, is a method “by examples; and the series of examples can be broken off.”22  In this way questions precisely such as these are solved and, more importantly, dissolved. 

 

WORKS CITED

 

Baker, Gordon (ed.), Gordon Baker, Michael Mackert, John Connolly, and Vasilis Politis (trans.).  The Voices of Wittgenstein: The Vienna Circle: Ludwig Wittgenstein and Friedrich Waismann.  London: Routledge, 2003.

 

Miller, D. J.  “Wittgenstein: Time for a New Philosophical Practice.”  Continental Philosophy Review 31 (1998): 415. 

 

Pickard-Cambridge, W. A. trans.  “Topics.”  In The Complete Works of Aristotle, The Revised Oxford Translation.
Vol. I.  Edited by Jonathan Barnes.   Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984.

 

Pine-Coffin, R. S., trans.  Saint Augustine Confessions.  New York: Penguin Books, 1961.

 

Wittgenstein, Ludwig, G. E. M. Anscombe (trans.).  Philosophical Investigations.  Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1963.

 

Wittgenstein, Ludwig.  Preliminary Studies for the “Philosophical Investigations”; Generally Known as the Blue and Brown Book.  New York: Harper & Brothers, 1958.

 

ENDNOTES

 

1.  “Space” as a spoken word appears in a myriad of examples taken from everyday life.  For example, we say that we park our vehicles in parking “spaces.”  We take up “space” on a park bench.  Satellites in “outer space” beam signals around the Earth.  Our Earth in turn travels through such said “space” thousands upon thousands of miles per hour.  It is the “space bar” which we strike on our keyboards when we want to leave a “space” between our words.  Nothing but “empty space” is poetically said to fill the prairie landscape.  Examples such as these can be continued indefinitely. 

 

2.  Ludwig Wittgenstein, Preliminary Studies (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1958), p. 27.  This remark is actually made in reference to the word “knowledge” than to the word “space.” 

 

3.  Ludwig Wittgenstein, Preliminary Studies (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1958), p. 26.   Wittgenstein is speaking here in terms of the question “what is time?”

 

4.  Ludwig Wittgenstein, Preliminary Studies (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1958), p. 1. 

 

5.  R. S. Pine-Coffin, trans., Saint Augustine Confessions (New York: Penguin Books, 1961), p. 264.

 

6.  Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1963), § 1.  The familiarity and admiration Wittgenstein has for Augustine as a philosopher is quite evident in his quoting the philosopher directly from his Confessions I.8 in the first section of the Philosophical Investigations.  Wittgenstein’s commentary here on Augustine has as its purpose the introducing of the reader to what is Augustine’s (and others’) central picture of language, namely, that there is a simple one-to-one correspondence between a word and what the word means.  Words mean the objects which they name, the objects for which they are mere representations.  Wittgenstein’s intent in the Investigations is to deconstruct this view and replace it with the thinking that meaning is acquired, actually, negotiated by the way the language which encapsulates the word is used.  

 

7.  Vienna Circle member Friedrich Waismann was a collaborator of Wittgenstein’s whose duty was to gather, organize, and make more readily presentable Wittgenstein’s ideas concerning his Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, which was considered to be the source of the Circle’s view on logic.

 

8.  Gordon Baker et al., The Voices of Wittgenstein: The Vienna Circle: Ludwig Wittgenstein and Friedrich Waismann (London: Routledge, 2003), p. 483. 

 

9.  Gordon Baker et al., The Voices of Wittgenstein: The Vienna Circle: Ludwig Wittgenstein and Friedrich Waismann (London: Routledge, 2003), p. 481. 

 

10.  Ludwig Wittgenstein, Preliminary Studies (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1958), p. 47.

 

11.  D. J. Miller, “Wittgenstein: Time for a New Philosophical Practice,” Continental Philosophy Review 31 (1998): 413.  Miller is speaking here in terms of “time.”

 

12.  Wittgenstein’s exact words here are: “I mean, we already know the idea of ‘aethereal objects’ as a subterfuge, when we are embarrassed about the grammar of certain words, and when all we know is that they are not used as names for material objects.”  Ludwig Wittgenstein, Preliminary Studies (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1958), p. 47.

 

13.  Wittgenstein indicates that it is objects emanating from natural science, objects which can be explored and demonstrated via the scientific method which are aptly subject to the question “what is X?”  In Philosophical Investigations §89 he notes “what is the specific gravity of hydrogen?” as an example of this question asked of this type of object.  The specific gravity of hydrogen is a knowable object of natural science.  We can readily explain what it is to someone without much problem if prompted to do so.  Can we say the same for space, however?  Is space something subject to the scientific method?  As for time, for example, we can certainly invoke the scientific method if we need to answer “what time is it?”, but can such methodology be used to answer “what, then, is time?”  Our problem in terms of our asking “what is space?” can be said to be based in the mistaken belief that all objects of interrogation are subject to the same format of question and answer.  Because the scientific method allows us to answer for various things questions like “what does it look like?”, “where is it naturally found?”, and “what (physically) causes it?”, respectively, we instinctively presume such a method to be able to ultimately answer the question “what is it?” as well.  A Bengal tiger, thorium, and lightning are various things to which some or all of these questions can be applied, respectively.  We would expect based on this then the full application of the scientific method when thoroughly pressed to these things to be able to answer for each of them the question “what really is it?” as well.  For space and time, however, we realize that questions such as “what does it look like?” and “where is it naturally found?”, respectively, simply do not apply to them.  We cannot in any sense offer intelligible answers for these things to these questions.  It follows that there can be, therefore, no application of the scientific method to the answering of “what is it?” for them, either.  The lesson we learn here is that just because a question can be posed in terms of what at first glance may appear to be an object of science, we cannot nonetheless allow ourselves to fall into the trap of easily imagining there to be an answer to such a question.  (Space is not an object of science!)  We must therefore refrain from imagining there to necessarily be an answer to a question simply because the question can be posed by us.  

 

14.  Gordon Baker et al., The Voices of Wittgenstein: The Vienna Circle: Ludwig Wittgenstein and Friedrich Waismann (London: Routledge, 2003), p. 483.

 

15.  “[F]or a definition is an account indicating the essence of a thing.”  W. A. Pickard-Cambridge, trans.  “Topics,” in The Complete Works of Aristotle, The Revised Oxford Translation, Vol. I, ed. Jonathan Barnes (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1984), p. 259, (154a31).  Traditionally speaking, this sense of definition – an account indicating the essence of a thing – has come to be referred to as a ‘real definition.’  In the Topics Aristotle’s main concern of discussion focused on “the orderly and successful conduct of competitive disputes about essence and matters relating to essence.  The sort of definition the work deals with is therefore essential or real definition.”†

 

†Richard Robinson, Definition (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965), p. 142.

 

 

16.  In that “space” is not the name of any specifically real thing unlike, say, the sense in which “man” is, it further follows that “space” is not the name of any thing-like species belonging to a wider genus.  (In other words “space” is not a natural-kind term.)  This point is noteworthy in that for Aristotle in order to find the essence of a thing – which is that which is indicated in what we call the ‘real definition’ of the thing – “one must, or at least ought to, find some genus to which the thing belongs and then find something that differentiates the thing from everything else in that genus.”†  (This principle is known as defining by genus et differentia.)  While for Aristotle this is doable for man in that man as an example of a species falls under the larger genus of animal and is exclusively distinguishable from all other animals by virtue of his rationality such that we can give as does Aristotle the real definition of man the description rational animal, we cannot nonetheless proceed along such lines for space in that space admits nothing of its being a real, naturally found thing much less its having a place in any larger genus.  While we can provide what we call ‘nominal’ or ‘lexical definitions’ of the word “space” the likes of which can be found in a dictionary, we misguide ourselves in asserting that we can acquire a formula as being (an example of) a real definition of space in that space is not a real thing – which is what it must be in that definition, according at least to Aristotle, is applicable only to a real thing.  To attempt to do so on our part is to search either for a non-existent identity of meaning as does Socrates for ‘virtue’ in the Meno or for an essence of a supposed thing as does Augustine for ‘time’ in his Confessions.

 

†Richard Robinson, Definition (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965), p. 143.

 

 

17.  See Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1963), § 126.  On what metaphysics does encapsulate, Wittgenstein mentions this: “One populates the world with ethereal essences, namely with things that one thinks one sees behind substantives.  The science of these pseudo-beings might justly be called metaphysics.”  (Gordon Baker et al., p. 485.)

 

18.  Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1963), § 371.  The emphasis here is Wittgenstein’s.

 

19.  Gordon Baker et al., The Voices of Wittgenstein: The Vienna Circle: Ludwig Wittgenstein and Friedrich Waismann (London: Routledge, 2003), p. 483. 

 

20.  Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1963), § 133.

 

21.  Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1963), § 133.

 

22.  Ludwig Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1963), § 133.

 

 

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