husserl's authentic being

7/12/2019 Husserl's Authentic Being

http://slidepdf.com/reader/full/husserls-authentic-being 1/17

R E S E A R C H P A P E R

Husserl’s Way to Authentic Being

Carlos Alberto Sanchez

Published online: 19 October 2007Ó Springer Science+Business Media B.V. 2007

Abstract In a journal entry from 1906, Husserl complains of lacking ‘‘internal

stability’’ and of his desire to ‘‘achieve’’ it. My claim in this paper is that the

‘‘phenomenological method,’’ which he made public in his 1907 lectures Die Idee

der Pha nomenologie was, and is, a means to achieve the inner harmony that Husserl

longed for. I do not provide an analysis of why Husserl might have felt the way he

did; my aim is to show what internal stability might be and how one might achieve

it. I conclude that the phenomenological method is the means, the ‘‘how,’’ tointernal stability, which I characterize as ‘‘clarity’’ and ‘‘harmony’’ regarding our

beliefs and, and ultimately, our authentic comportment.

Keywords Phenomenology Á Existentialism Á Authenticity Á Justification Á

Epistemology Á Heidegger Á Fink Á Van Breda

Introduction

In his introduction to Edmund Husserl’s Die Idee der Pha nomenologie, WalterBiemiel cites one of Husserl’s journal entries from September of 1906. There,

Husserl (1958), in a despairing and melancholy tone, writes, ‘‘I have sufficiently

weathered the torments of obscurity [Unklarheit ] which toss me to and fro. I must

achieve internal stability’’ (pp. vii–viii).1 As an expression of human finitude, this

sentiment evokes the following questions: Why was Husserl being ‘‘tossed’’ about

in the first place? And, more interestingly, what is this ‘‘internal stability’’ that he

C. A. Sanchez (&)

Department of Philosophy, San Jose State University, One Washington Sq, San Jose,

CA 95192-0096, USA

e-mail: [email protected]

1 This quote appears only in the German edition and reads: ‘‘Die Qualen der Unklarheit, des hin- und

herschwankenden Zweifels habe ich ausreichend genossen. Ich muß zu einer inneren Festigkeit hin

kommen.’’

123

Hum Stud (2007) 30:377–393

DOI 10.1007/s10746-007-9061-x



longs for? Answering the first question can easily lead one to speculate into

Husserl’s psychological state, which is something others have tried but which I am

not prepared to do.2

My aim here is to answer the second, more interesting, question, which asks not

how Husserl might have felt during this period, but rather, asks what internalstability is and how one might achieve it; this is a question whose answer, I gather,

Husserl alludes to in his discussions on belief justification and authentic knowledge.

My claim is that internal stability is manifested in the confidence the subject

shows in regards to his or her beliefs. This confidence, moreover, is gained as a

result of trusting those beliefs, of trusting their justificatory sources, which is itself a

result of subjecting those beliefs to the phenomenological method (here understood

to comprise of the epoche, the reduction, and the apprehending powers of intuition).

Insofar as trust is an activity of both epistemic and moral importance, my view is

that the phenomenological method (as Husserl conceived it) is existentiallysignificant as well as significant for science. Without the reduction, the epoche, and

seeing intuitions, the evidence required to make reasonable judgments or hold

justified beliefs seems ungraspable in principle. More importantly, without

practicing the method one is in danger of living in ‘‘bad faith,’’ or in a state of

inauthenticity, a state characterized by our unwillingness to scrutinize the bonds,

i.e., our beliefs, which tie us to our world and to the infinite. Upon revealing itself,

such as in a moment of breakdown or epiphany, this inauthentic state of being,

however, is capable of injuring a person’s inner harmony, a person’s internal

stability.The purpose of the present undertaking is two-fold: to show the existential

dimensions of the phenomenological method and to shed light on what internal

stability is. Of course, the showing will necessarily highlight the how of bringing

about what Husserl’s calls ‘‘inneren Festigkeit.’’ I begin (1) by touching upon the

epistemological undercurrents of ‘‘reduction,’’ ‘‘epoche,’’ and ‘‘intuition’’; I next

touch upon the existential nature of the phenomenological method (2), which leads

into a discussion of the relation between ‘‘the method,’’ human authenticity (3) and

epistemic clarity (4); I end (5) by revisiting the nature of internal stability and its

possibility.

2 See, for instance, Pierre Thevenaz’s What is Phenomenology? (1962), where he tells us of Husserl’s

dissatisfaction with Logical Investigations and the psychological torment that this caused him after its

publication. During this time, Husserl, writes Thevenaz, goes ‘‘through his gravest crisis of internal doubt

and incertitude’’ (p. 39). One could ask, however, what writer does not go through a period of doubt and

incertitude after finishing and presenting a work? In fact, in a letter to Dorion Cairns, written in 1930 and

published in Phaenomenologica 4, Husserl (1960) seems to suggest that the process of writing Logical

Investigations was somewhat therapeutic. Husserl’s letter to Cairns states: ‘‘I too had a hard time in my

youth, suffered from long spells of depression, down to the complete loss of all self-confidence, and even

made the attempt to consult a neurologist, though not exactly with the success you had. This was largelythe result of my philosophical failure, which, as I recognized very late, was a failure of contemporary

philosophy. Thus I lived from despair to despair, from rally to rally.… And after all, in the fourteen years

of my time as Privatdozent in Halle there was a new beginning, the Logische Untersuchungen, which then

gave me support and hope. By writing them I have cured myself’’ (p. 293). As the 1905 entry shows,

however, the so called cure was only temporary and Husserl would have to once again work through it. I

thank the anonymous referee for brining this to my attention.

378 C. A. Sanchez

123



Reduction, Epoche, Intuition

The phenomenological reduction and epoche guarantee, according to Husserl’s

post- Logical Investigation period, a realm of self-evident givenness. The conditions

for the possibility of knowledge are revealed by the reduction to lie within theimmanent sphere of conscious experience where the vagueness of everyday

objective thinking can be supplanted by the clarity of that which gives itself,

namely, phenomena. The reduction epitomizes the cornerstone of phenomenolog-

ical philosophy, which, Husserl says in The Idea of Phenomenology,

is directed to the ‘sources of cognition,’ to general origins which can be ‘seen,’

to general absolute givenness which presents the universal criteria in terms of

which all meaning, and also the correctness of confused thinking, is to be

evaluated, and by which all riddles which have to do with the objectivity of

cognition are to be solved. (1964, p. 44)

Phenomenology, as a method , thus exposes those sources manifesting ‘‘universal

criteria’’ that can be used to clear up confusion and dissolve the riddles of

‘‘thinking.’’ Another way to say this is that ‘‘the method’’ aims to bridge the divide

separating the infinite, ‘‘the universal,’’ from the finite, ‘‘thinking.’’ It accomplishes

its tasks, Husserl believes, by instructing us as to how to proceed, but more

fundamentally, by holding in itself the promise that our thoughts will achieve clarity

and ‘‘correctness’’ as their course is re-adjusted in accordance with ‘‘universal,’’

thus infinite, ‘‘criteria.’’The radicalism of the phenomenological method is embodied in ‘‘the principle of

all principles,’’ where correct thinking is thinking that secures its validity in

‘‘sources’’ or ‘‘foundations’’ given in intuition. In Ideas, Book I , §24, Husserl (1998)

sets down his principle:

[E]very originary presentive intuition is a legitimizing source of knowledge

[Erkenntnis],…everything originarily (so to speak, in its ‘personal’ actuality

[or, ‘bodily self’’]) offered to us in ‘intuition’ is to be accepted simply as what

it is presented as being, but also only within the limits in which it is presented

there. (p. 44)

Intuition is thus a ‘‘source of legitimacy.’’ As the source of ‘‘legitimacy,’’ or

‘‘justification,’’ whatever is intuitively given serves a justificatory role, or rather,

serves to justify those beliefs that we will trust. The phenomenological method thus

allows us to see that perceptual beliefs are confirmed through perceptual intuitions

of the thing to which they refer—the thing, or object, however, in its ‘‘personal

actuality,’’ or ‘‘bodily self.’’ Husserl emphasizes that these sources and these

beginnings can be found only through intuition and the practice of reduction and

epoche; without these we would not be able to unburden ourselves of the naı vete of

the natural attitude where we remain perpetually bound to unjustified beliefs in what

does not give itself. These are beliefs without foundations in our experience, without

grounds, and ultimately, without merit. In this camp I would include beliefs about or

in my father’s 1998 presidential run, his present ability to walk through walls, or his

promised immortality. Opposed to these sorts of beliefs, there are justifiable beliefs

Husserl’s Way to Authentic Being 379

123



such as my college graduation a decade ago, the geometrical shape of my desk, or

my belief in the accuracy of certain mathematical calculations without which my

finances would be in ruin. Thus, what is existentially problematic has to do with the

persistence of a naivete in regards to my unexamined life; in this condition, I count

as true and meritorious whatever has been argued for in the right way, e.g., myfather’s ability to walk thought walls, socially sanctioned (by my family,

community, class, etc.), or merely assumed. Husserl thus insists on the necessity

of the phenomenological method in our attempts to overcome unfounded prejudice,

error, and obscurity by revealing the transcendental sources of what we know and

how we know it. What must be resolved, however, is the question as to whether this

method lends itself to the sort of implementation that Husserl envisioned.

Philosophical Tremors: The Search for Clarity

Writing some decades after the publication of Ideas I under the close direction of

Husserl, Eugen Fink reflects on the right and wrong way to view the

phenomenological reduction (or method). For Fink, the reduction represents a

return to the origins of constitution, namely transcendental subjectivity, but also a

re-turn to the limits of our world. Because this return puts us face to face with

those limits, thus with our own human limits, the reduction requires the

performance of an act of free will on the part of a subject. What this means is that

not everyone can or will perform this act of free will, or that not everyone iscapable of exercising their will in such a way that the furthermost horizons of

their universe are revealed as a consequence. Thus, in his Sixth Cartesian

Meditation, Fink (1995) writes:

The awful tremor [ Zitternfurchtbares] everyone experiences who actually

passes through the phenomenological reduction has its basis in the dismaying

recognition that the inconceivably great, boundless, vast world has a sense of a

constitutive result, that therefore in the universe of constitution it represents

only a relative ‘totality.’ (p. 144)3

According to Fink, the reduction opens up a window into the infinite, that is, the

universe. But, we are immediately confronted with the realization that our intuitions

present us with only an aspect [ Abschattung] of the ‘‘totality’’ which is this ‘‘vast

world.’’ Our finitude gets in the way of a more encompassing experience with the

3

The Sixth Cartesian Meditation is Fink’s attempt, under Husserl’s supervision, to correct and furtherexplain Husserl’s theory of transcendental phenomenology and the phenomenological reduction. In it,

Fink questions the ‘‘being of the transcendent,’’ and the very possibility of phenomenology given the

conceptual resources available; thus it is a ‘‘phenomenology of phenomenology.’’ Most importantly, it is a

defense of Husserl’s phenomenology in light of Martin Heidegger’s emerging philosophy and the long

shadow it cast on German thought. For this reason, Fink, at times, seems to Heideggerize Husserl to some

extent. For a valuable commentary on this text, see the introduction by Ronald Bruzina.

380 C. A. Sanchez

123



infinite. This ‘‘vast world’’ appears as finite, as a ‘‘constitutive result,’’ that is, with

the sense that its intelligibility is a product of intentional acts and intuitive

presentations that have gradually constituted it through time. This is a ‘‘dismaying

recognition,’’ Fink contends, since the possibilities of what we can know and

experience are not infinite in the sense commonly (or naively) imagined. Theconsequence of recognizing that in fact I, a finite being, implicitly participate in the

very constitution of the intelligible world is the source of the ‘‘awful tremor’’ Fink

says one experiences as one performs, or goes through, the reduction.

One would think that the phenomenological method should only lead to clarity

and, with this, a sense of confidence in what it is that we know—or what it is that we

claim to know. According to Fink, however, it is not the sense of clarity and

confidence that first overtakes us, but rather a feeling of physical discomfort, a

dreadful tremble [ Zitternfurchtbares]. Perhaps this discomfort is due to the

unsettling thought that what the world means for us is ultimately dependent onour own limited subjectivity, and therefore, that we can never know anything

‘‘absolutely.’’ Or, to put the point in a different light, perhaps it is due to the fact

that, in performing the phenomenological reduction, we are conscious, for the first

time, of the extent of our freedom. Husserl himself suggests something like this

when he says that the attempt ‘‘to doubt universally for the first time belongs to the

realm of our perfect freedom’’ (1998, p. 58). The idea is that this act of doubt, while

belonging to the realm of our freedom, is not understood as such until we are in a

state of doubt; in the state of doubt we realize, for the first time, the extent of our

freedom. This universal doubt, or bracketing, takes the form of the epoche, which isperformed willingly and upon all of our beliefs. Our freedom itself, then, is given

with the performance. But, at what price our freedom? Well, at the price of the naıve

certainty in ourselves; at the price of doubting our personal confidence, or of that

normal, unquestioned, self-assurance that our relation to the infinite is clear cut.

This might make anyone tremble, as Fink suggests. Now, is it out of fear, or dread,

that we tremble? Is this dreadful tremble a symptom of a strange fear of freedom?

The awful tremor which one experiences when going through the phenomenological

reduction is a phenomenological description, I think, of consciousness’ experience

of its own limits, the experience of a freedom constrained, of reaching the limits of

knowledge in a free act of our own will.

The description of what one feels when performing the reduction, however, might

initially sound too metaphorical (or worse, psychologistic). Nevertheless, I ask,

what does it mean to actually go through the reduction? The reduction is a return to

conscious experience involving the bracketing and suspension of all of our everyday

beliefs, but most specifically, the belief in the existence of the world as a Ding an

Sich. Burt Hopkins (2003) formulates this purpose in the following way: the

phenomenological reduction is invoked, he says, ‘‘to the end of justifying what we

believe to be our knowledge of both the world and of ourselves, as beings who live

in the world’’ (p. 5). To go through the reduction is thus to perform the return to

consciousness, to suspend the validity of my beliefs, to focus on experience just as it

is experienced, and in this way, to justify my beliefs. It is in an act of freedom,

moreover, involving reflection. Only this reflective stance can give us some distance

from our immediate experience and allow us to get a clear picture as to whether or


123



not a belief is in harmony with its object (its intuitive content).4 Put differently, the

reduction grants me, a thinking subject, the opportunity to recognize that the world I

experience is always my world, a world not simply given independently of me, but

rather constituted (or made intelligible) by acts of my own consciousness; to

recognize this is to experience the finite–infinite relation which I represent, thelimits of this relation, and with this, a shock, a hostile break with what I commonly

assumed. This process may not always be as dramatic as Fink thinks it is, or as I

make it sound, but it is an experience of finitude, whereby we recognize that we

cannot get outside of our world to a truer world we play no role in constituting,

namely, the infinite, vast, world. But now I ask: what exactly is the existential

implication of this process, or this method, if any?

Phenomenology and Authenticity

If clarity about our selves through reasonable justification for our beliefs is the

ultimate goal of the phenomenological reduction, then it seems imperative that in

order to be authentic one must practice the phenomenological method, even if it can

initially be something of a frightful exercise. This line of argument is suggested by

H.L. Van Breda in a highly original piece, ‘‘A Note on Reduction and Authenticity

According to Husserl’’ (Elliston and McCormick 1977).

According to Van Breda, ‘‘In what is called the natural attitude, man leads an

inauthentic existence because he unconsciously lives in the absolute belief in ‘whatis constituted’ or ‘what is founded’ (we prefer the term canonized , which Husserl

rarely uses) without justifying this belief or clarifying its foundation’’ (Elliston and

McCormick, pp. 124–125, note 1).5 Here Van Breda links human authenticity with

justification; what’s more interesting, however, is that human inauthenticity is tied

up with unjustified belief as represented by our confidence in what is ‘‘canonized.’’

By ‘‘preferring’’ canonized over ‘‘founded’’ or ‘‘constituted,’’ Van Breda empha-

sizes what he sees as the ultimate obstacle to human authenticity, namely, the great

difficulty or simple incapacity to suspend those beliefs which have been sanctified in

the social sphere, dogmatically assumed in our private lives, and whose status is

thus unquestionable in any ordinary sphere. The reduction is thus necessary in order

to enter the phenomenological realm, and in order, consequently, to be authentic.

It is the philosopher who is responsible for performing the reduction. ‘‘The

phenomenological reduction,’’ writes Van Breda, ‘‘is by rights the first and the most

fundamental of the steps to be carried out by the philosopher’’ (1977, note 3). More

than that, however, like the practice of Christianity in Kierkegaard’s vision, or

‘‘resolve’’ in Heidegger’s, it must be constantly and consistently repeated and

4 It’s worth pointing out, however, that we do not ‘‘leave’’ our immediate experience. It is rather a

reflective move, a change of perspective, away from a naıve absorption in unreflective thinking. AsThevenaz (1962) says, ‘‘One cannot even speak of a ‘return to lived experience’ via the reduction,

because, in fact, we have never left it’’ (p. 52).5 Van Breda makes eight ‘‘notes’’ regarding ‘‘reduction and authenticity’’ in this short but valuable essay.

Because the essay is so brief, for the sake of clarity, I will refer to the note number. Thus, for the above

quote, I will place ‘‘note 1’’ after the cited text.

382 C. A. Sanchez

123



‘‘never be considered definitively achieved’’ (note 4). Thus, authenticity is only

possible by the continued performance of the phenomenological method which

requires a persistent inquest into those beliefs onto which we easily slip in our

everyday lives; it is ‘‘by rights,’’ by a priori law, that is, the first step on the path to

‘‘authentic’’ philosophical thinking. Consequently, writes Van Breda,

The philosopher—by definition, a man who is at pains to live the authentic

life—ought to exercise the phenomenological reduction, if he does not want to

betray his calling. The… epoche is thrust on his freedom in a categorical and

imperative way. (note 8)

This conclusion, however, raises several questions the answers to which can be

very revealing. First, what ‘‘philosopher’’ is Van Breda referring to here? By

definition, says Van Breda, the philosopher is ‘‘at pains to live’’ authentically, and

the only way to achieve authenticity is to exercise the reduction if he wants to betrue to what he does. The history of philosophy shows, however, that exercising the

phenomenological reduction is not a necessary condition to philosophize nor does it

show that exercising the phenomenological reduction makes it any easier to live an

authentic existence. The significance of Van Breda’s view is that it suggests that

Husserl was indeed, as I am suggesting, concerned with the connection between

(epistemic) justification and (existential) authenticity; that Husserl (as ‘‘the

philosopher’’) was at pains to live the authentic life, at pains to resolve what he

called ‘‘the torments of obscurity and doubt which tosses me about in every

direction’’ (op. cit .).

6

Even if we grant that the reduction is a means to authenticity for phenomenol-

ogists and non-phenomenologist alike (as I shall propose), the above quote gives

rise to a second question, namely: if the epoche is an act of free will, as suggested

above by Fink, how is it ‘‘thrust’’ on one’s freedom? The implication here is that in

order to genuinely philosophize one must practice the phenomenological method,

since only if one wants to be true to one’s calling is one obligated to perform the

epoche. This view has it, then, that the phenomenological method is the act of free

will, which in turn allows us also to be fully conscious of our freedom. This is why

authenticity requires us to be phenomenologists. In his early studies on Husserl,

Emmanuel Levinas (1998) describes the situation in a somewhat similar way:

Deepening our knowledge of things and their being, phenomenology

constitutes for man a way of existing through which he attains his spiritual

destiny…[phenomenology] is the very life of the mind which finds itself and

exists in conformity with its vocation. It brings forth a discipline through

which the mind takes cognizance of itself, assumes responsibility for itself and

ultimately for its freedom. (p. 48)

Like Van Breda, Levinas sees phenomenology as paving the way for one’s

‘‘spiritual destiny’’ (the destiny of one’s ‘‘calling’’) which is to exist in conformity

6 This is also the case with Descartes. Descartes begins by noting his ‘‘inauthenticity,’’ and through

meditation attempts to reveal what he is justified in holding true. For Descartes, ‘‘to know myself …more

truly’’ seems to be a necessary condition for living the right kind of life ( 1993, p. 23).


123



with one’s purpose (being thinking, so to speak), and then, as a result of taking up

this purpose, for assuming responsibility for one’s freedom.

As a ‘‘mode of being,’’ the phenomenological attitude, according to Van Breda

and Levinas, promises to lend clarity to my thoughts, which, at first muddled and

confused, are then seen to be either in harmony or disharmony with my ‘‘vastworld.’’ Thus, for example, my belief in the world as an existence independent of

my experience is seen, as a result of taking up this attitude, to conflict with the way

the world is given in experience. The case is the same for any other belief, which if

found in disharmony (as a result of the reduction and epoche) is disavowed and, if

harmonious, then justifiably retained. In this way, as my beliefs achieve harmony

with what they are about, so does consciousness itself achieve harmony—which is

ultimately what one seeking the sources of knowledge really desires. Harmony,

consequently, describes the relationship between the finite and the infinite, intuition

and its object, and the realization and affirmation of one’s limits as the vast world escapes a totalizing grasp.

Are We Not Clear?

Levinas’ characterization of phenomenology as a way of being, rather than as the

way, suggests that perhaps the methods of phenomenology are not as necessary

for authentic being as Van Breda assumes; perhaps clarity and authenticity are

not on the line if one chooses not to perform the phenomenological reduction. Inother words, that achieving internal stability is possible without the method and

even, perchance, that this sort of philosophical effort does not make much

difference in our attempts to be clear, harmonious, and authentic because there is

no reason to suppose that it brings us any closer to the justificatory sources of

our beliefs. More damaging still is the view that questions the very possibility of

accessing this ‘‘way of being,’’ this radical shift in perspective that takes one

from the natural to the phenomenological attitude. David Carr (1999) holds this

view:

when the phenomenological method is portrayed as a complete overthrow of

our natural belief in the world, one wonders (as in the case of Descartes’

doubt) whether something so radical is really possible, or whether Husserl has

in mind a ‘merely’ theoretical pretense, a thought experiment which does not

really change our beliefs at all. (p. 95)

Carr’s suggestion is that the event of ‘‘going through’’ the method might only be

a ‘‘thought experiment’’ meant to get us to imagine what beliefs would remain if it

were possible to put them in brackets, or suspend them, or ‘‘overthrow’’ them.

Performing this experiment in one’s mind, however, seems impossible; perhaps thisseeming impossibility is why those who ‘‘actually pass through the phenomeno-

logical reduction’’ are afflicted with that ‘‘awful tremor’’ that Fink speaks about.

Perhaps it is not the experience of ones finitude, then, that overcomes those rare

thinkers who pass through the reduction, but an overwhelming sense of

384 C. A. Sanchez

123



accomplishment, a feeling that they succeeded in performing a mental experiment in

accordance with the specifications of its formulation.7

In the end, the phenomenological method, writes Carr (1999), is a ‘‘highly

abstract and artificial method,’’ and this consciousness purged of all beliefs (also

known as the ‘‘transcendental subject’’) is nothing but a ‘‘theoretical fiction,comparable…to the freely falling body of Newtonian physics, or the ‘average

consumer’ of statistics’’ (p. 95). Moreover, it is more than artificial; it is, says Carr,

an ‘‘arbitrary’’ fiction. But claiming that it is ‘‘arbitrary’’ is one step away from

saying that the same level of reflection, justification, and knowledge, which the

phenomenological reduction makes available for us, can likewise be arrived at

‘‘naturally.’’ Carr, indeed, says this much: ‘‘Husserl never claims that we know the

world with any more certainty or accuracy after the phenomenological reduction

than before it’’ (pp. 95–96).

To accept Carr’s position would be to relinquish the claim that the phenome-nological method is meant as a method whose purpose is to uncover the justificatory

grounds for our beliefs as finite beings. While I accept that we might not know the

world with more ‘‘certainty’’ after the phenomenological reduction, since future

experience might possibly falsify a belief currently held to be true, I reject his

suggestion that we might not know it with more ‘‘accuracy.’’ A philosopher does, in

fact, know the world with more ‘‘accuracy’’ when he or she finds, as a result of the

method, that his or her beliefs aboutness is coincident (or corresponds accurately)

with that with which it is about. The point that Carr (1999) is attempting to make is

that the valorization of the phenomenological method at the expense of oureveryday, natural, existence overlooks the fact that by being opposite the ‘‘natural,’’

phenomenological reflection is actually an ‘‘unnatural’’ mode of being ‘‘since it

seems a wholly unnecessary departure from that natural attitude…which seems

necessary and unassailable’’ (p. 95). By this, I understand Carr to mean that in

abstracting us from the mundane, the phenomenological reduction is not going to

elevate us to a new realm of reality, but will always remain unassailably tied up

with a concrete circumstance. ‘‘The point of the method,’’ writes Carr, ‘‘is neither to

deny nor to reaffirm the natural attitude, nor is it to go beyond it to some other

realm; it is simply to see, as it were, how the natural attitude ‘works’’’ (p. 97).

Looked at in this way, the phenomenological method (the reduction and the epoche)

seems not to be the means to an authentic existence; it is merely a scientific method,

like physics or astronomy, that aims to uncover the inner workings—or the essential

mechanisms—of our familiar world. The existential necessity of performing the

reduction and epoche, to which both Van Breda and Levinas testify, is thus only

necessary for one already working within the boundaries of the phenomenological

project, and thus not for everyone else, not for those who do not find it

philosophically necessary to ‘‘pass through’’ the phenomenological reduction.

7 I can imagine someone, for example, who might one day actually, and successfully, enter a

‘‘teletransporter,’’ get beamed over to Mars but physically remain on Earth while someone physically and

psychologically identical to him or her roams the deserts of Mars. The elation to the philosopher-physicist

who accomplishes this, I imagine, would be overwhelming. This is David Parfit’s thought experiment in

Reasons and Persons (1984, Part 3).


123



However, what is the extent of the arbitrariness that plagues this reflective

exercise? Carr’s remarks indicate that the attempt itself, of adopting the

phenomenological attitude, is as unnatural and contrived as willing oneself to

imagine the structural contours of something like Plato’s world of forms. Against

this view, it seems to me that there is something very natural about the perspectiveor standpoint described by Husserl as ‘‘the phenomenological attitude.’’ Immersed

as I am in my everyday activities, I do not question the reasons why I believe this or

that about those activities, the tools I use to perform them, or the circumstances in

which I perform them. I have faith that these tools and circumstances will remain as

they are as time passes, and I accept certain beliefs and propositions based on their

mutual coherence with other beliefs and propositions; I do this without questioning

the validity of the coherent system of beliefs and propositions itself, and I am

seldom in a situation where I need to question this validity. In general, I consider my

experience as consistent, and any inconsistency is attributed to some familiar causeor to something, which I might still possibly experience (or with which I might

become familiar in the future).

There are instances, however, when I do adopt a reflective standpoint similar to

the one Husserl describes. I attempt to tie my shoelaces, and in a moment of

distraction, catch myself forgetting how the knot goes; I stop and reflect on the

experience of not being able to tie the knot which ties my shoelaces. I abstract

myself from that experience, and think of what the knot should look like. I reflect on

various instances of knots and the process of tying knots. This reflection allows me

to return to my experience, wherein I grasp the knot as it should be and not as it isnow or as it was yesterday (this is an instance of the epoche at work)—I can even

say that I can grasp the ‘‘whatness’’ of the knot. Reflection (employing the

phenomenological reduction) on knots in general (in Husserl’s terms, ‘‘seeing

essences’’) and the exclusion of what knots are not (through something like an

epoche), I want to say, is, in a mundane sense, both natural and common.

Husserl’s method, in many respects, merely asks us to replicate a normal and

commonplace experience. This is the view, for instance, in Heidegger’s (1962)

distinction in Being and Time between vorhanden and zuhanden modes of

experience, and his view that we move back and forth between such ‘‘at hand’’ and

‘‘hands on’’ experiences without needing to employ any methodological reduction

(§§14ff). The phenomenologist, however, should adopt this reflective stance if, as a

philosopher interested in the sources of clear thinking, he or she aims to uncover

truth and move beyond mere prejudice. Thus, Husserl suggests that this reflective

stance should be treated as a method ; that is, that it should be a philosophical tool

for unearthing what underlies all of our experience, namely, a finite relation to the

infinite.8

Moreover, to say that the phenomenological reduction and the epoche are

arbitrary is the same as saying that, as mere ‘‘thought experiments,’’ philosophy

could do without them. Yet they are not arbitrary gestures, I believe, because

Husserl’s idea of philosophy as the ultimate expression of reason demands this

8 The obvious reason to call it a ‘‘method’’ is presumably related to Husserl’s more scientific aspirations.

I say ‘‘presumably’’ because the point of my analysis is to show that this reason is not that obvious.

386 C. A. Sanchez

123



method; philosophy demands a shift of direction of one’s interests, a shift away

from what is common and familiar to us to what underlies the common and the

familiar, to what allows us to see something as common and familiar. Only a very

skillful scientist, immersed in routine and without students or colleagues who need

an explanation of his or her actions, could possibly do science without ever leavingthe natural attitude and explicitly reflecting on the meaning of what he or she is

doing. And even such a scientist will be forced out of the natural attitude by

radically novel or unexpected results, problems, obstacles, breakdowns, and so on.

The phenomenological reduction promises to be both a reflection in the world, and

about that world; consequently, it is both natural and necessary.

Clarity and Harmony

Thus, the phenomenological method does not necessarily involve an entirely

unnatural and arbitrary departure from the world of our immediately lived experience,

but rather merely a shift of perspective that allows us to ‘‘see’’ the nature of experience

itself. Moreover, the method allows for a clarification of knowledge, its nature and its

possibility; but, more importantly, it allows for clarity in regards our own relation to

the underlying sources of our beliefs and, moreover, harmony with those beliefs. This

recognition cannot but stabilize a soul in disarray. This is why it is the responsibility of

the philosopher to clarify the nature of this relationship, which is also, as Van Breda

suggest, an owning up to one’s responsibility in the face of authentic comportment. Myview, then, is that authenticity is intimately related with the proper justification of our

claims to knowledge (both particular and universal knowledge); that is, that

authenticity can be achieved in and through our search for clarity, and since clarity

requires an understanding of how we come to rely on certain beliefs, then clarity

requires an understanding of the justificatory process. Husserl (1998) writes: ‘‘the

conscious subject itself judges about actuality, asks about it, deems it likely, doubts it,

resolves the doubt and thereby effects ‘legitimations of reason’’’ (p. 324). ‘‘Legiti-

mations of reason’’ turn out to be justified beliefs or knowledge claims. It is the aim of

the conscious subject to legitimate his or her beliefs in and about actuality, that is, hisor her finite, worldly, beliefs.

An obstacle to my line of thinking, however, is that we like to think of the

concept of ‘‘authenticity’’ as an ‘‘existential’’ concept in ‘‘existentialist’’ philosophy,

or a rigidly defined concept in Heideggerian analysis, i.e., as a ‘‘mode of being of

Dasein.’’ In Husserl, we find the concept of authenticity in the Logical

Investigations (1984) as he discusses ‘‘the laws of authentic and inauthentic

thinking,’’ or the a priori laws governing thought. In that work, Husserl says,

In so far as the logical thought of experience is, to an incomparably major extent,

conducted inadequately and signitively, we can think, believe, many things,which in truth, in the manner of authentic thought, the actual carrying out of

merely intended syntheses, cannot be brought together at all. Just for this reason

the a priori laws of authentic thinking and authentic expression become norms

for merely opinion-forming, inauthentic thought and expression. (p. 728)


123



According to Husserl, authentic thinking (eigentlichen Denken) takes place when

the thoughts one entertains are fulfilled thoughts and not merely ‘‘signitive’’

thoughts, or empty intendings. In an authentic thought, that is, an ‘‘actual carrying

out of merely intended syntheses’’ is ‘‘brought together,’’ which means that the

different intuitions corresponding to the intentional act come together to present aunified object, or an identical object, which can then be said to be known. Thus for

thinking to be authentic, it must be made up of thoughts, beliefs, and propositions,

which are justified in the right and proper way (i.e., through synthesis). This raises

the question, however, as to the relationship between authentic thinking, or rational

thoughts, and being authentic.

For Søren Kierkegaard and Friedrich Nietzsche, for instance, authentic being is tied

up with the freedom to chose, the freedom to act, and owning up to the consequences of

our actions (that is, with responsibility). Reason, in the eyes of these thinkers, limits the

possibilities to choose, and is thus a hindrance to the full exercise of our freedom. InKierkegaard, for instance, reason is the obstacle to the establishment of the real

relation with God (to Untruth), and it keeps us trapped, so to speak, in the belief that

‘‘subjectivity is truth’’; and, in Nietzsche, the Apollonian (reason) suppresses the

Dionysian (instincts) element of the human spirit, thus limiting the possibilities of the

human being.9 Opposed to this, for Husserl the phenomenological reduction

exemplifies the ultimate saving power of reason; authentic thinking just is the right

use of reason. As Husserl says in The Crisis of European Sciences and Transcendental

Phenomenology (1970): ‘‘Reason is precisely that which [humanity] qua [humanity],

in [our] innermost being, is aiming for, that alone can satisfy [us], make [us] ‘blessed’’’(p. 338). If reason makes one ‘‘blessed,’’ then justified beliefs are the thoughts of

Saints. Does the deification of reason by Husserl mean that his phenomenology and the

existential notion of authenticity are irreconcilable? That is, that the phenomenolog-

ical method is not a way to become authentic? My conviction is that while Husserl’s

phenomenology and the existentialisms of Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, Jean Paul Sartre,

and others, are not reconcilable philosophical descriptions of human existence en toto,

we can understand Husserl’s insistence on clarity, on evidence, justification, and

knowledge of the world (finite knowledge), as existential worries having to do with

authentic being in the world.

Consider, as a more relevant illustration, Martin Heidegger’s notion of

authenticity in Being and Time.10 Heidegger (1962) writes that ‘‘as modes of

9 On this, see Kierkegaard’s Concluding Unscientific Postscript (1992), especially Section 2 of Chapter 2;

and, see for example, Fredrick Nietzsche, The Birth of Tragedy and Other Writings (1999).10 I say ‘‘relevant’’ since Husserl always suspected that Heidegger might be continuing the projects and

themes laid out in his (Husserl’s) own phenomenology. In a letter to Alexander Pfa nder (1931), Husserl

writes: ‘‘Of course, as Being and Time appeared in 1927, I was alienated by the new style of language and

thought. At first I trusted his post-publication clarification: he is one who advances my research. I derived

the impression of an exceptional, though not clarified intellectual energy, and honestly took to pains topenetrate [sic] and accept it. In the face of theories whose access was so difficult for my type of thinking, I

did not want to come to grips with the fact that in them methods of my phenomenological research and its

scientific rigor in general are abandoned. Somehow the blame rests with me and Heidegger only so far as

he leaped much too quickly into problems of a higher stage. He himself steadily denied that he is

abandoning my transcendental phenomenology and directed me to his future second volume [of Being

and Time]’’ (Welton 2000, pp. 122–123).

388 C. A. Sanchez

123



being, authenticity and inauthenticity are both grounded in the fact that any

Dasein whatsoever is characterized by mineness […as something of its own]’’

(p. 68). Authenticity [Eigentlichkeit ] thus involves taking ownership of one’s own

existence, of making my life my own [eigen]. Inauthenticity, on the other hand,

involves allowing what is mine to slip away, for instance, in excitement or inanticipation (Heidegger’s examples). Likewise for Husserl, authentic thinking

involves owning up to a responsibility to think correctly, thus to be justified in our

thoughts and, thus, in our actions. Inauthentic thinking, or acts of believing

without any justification, such as beliefs held in a moment of expectation,

anticipation, or in acts of pleasure, are acts in which one flees from that

responsibility to care for the correctness of our thinking; for instance, as I expect

the next Lotto number to be called, I forget that my belief in my ‘‘lucky’’ numbers

is not properly founded.

Of course, Heidegger’s and Husserl’s projects are quite different; Heideggerlacks Husserl’s traditional faith in reason, and so prioritizes other more primary

modes of our existence, for instance ‘‘care,’’ ‘‘thrownness,’’ and ‘‘anxiety,’’ while

Husserl prioritizes reason over anything non-intuitively presented. What I am

attempting to highlight, however, is the ‘‘train of thought’’ that both thinkers are

following in regard to being authentic, namely, that being authentic requires a

re-evaluation of what we believe. For Husserl this means a re-evaluation of our

everyday beliefs while for Heidegger it means a coming-to-terms with ‘‘public

interpretedness.’’ Heidegger (1962) remarks, for instance, that ‘‘Dasein…remains

concealed from itself in its authenticity because of the way in which things havebeen publicly interpreted by the ‘they’’’ (p. 235). If this is the case, then Dasein

chooses not to ‘‘choose itself and win itself’’ by taking up, or appropriating, what

others have already laid out regarding what it means to be in the world. This is, in

Husserlian terms, to be uncritically embedded in the naıve attitude. This is also the

difference Heidegger highlights between the ‘‘ambiguity’’ of empty ‘‘idle talk’’

(Gerede) and genuine authentic ‘‘discourse’’ ( Rede) which is in touch with the

reality it discusses, rather than simply passing along claims it has merely overheard

(§§34–35).11

Husserl’s concern about being authentic is embedded in the context of the

problems of knowledge his phenomenological method is meant to solve. To be clear

about the possibility of authentically saying to oneself, ‘‘I know this or that because

I see this or that in its bodily presence and thus in evidence,’’ is thus a first step

toward being authentic; a recognition, moreover, which is always also the first step

toward being inauthentic (I can say to myself ‘‘I would know this or that if I were to

see it in its bodily presence, and while I don’t see it in its bodily presence, I still

believe this or that’’). In accepting the phenomenological method as a method of

11 As Iain Thomson (2005) argues, authenticity does require an ‘‘existential reduction’’ of its own in

which, radically individualized in the total collapse of my world, the ‘‘running-out into death’’ that reveal

me to myself in my ‘‘ownmost being-able’’ (eigentliche Seinko nnen) as nothing but a world-hungry

‘‘mineness’’ ( Jemeinnigkeit ), a projecting without any projects, I discover that this aspect of myself is

‘‘stronger than death’’ and so am able to ‘‘choose to choose,’’ to be authentically reborn, repossessing

myself and so genuinely leading my own life (pp. 439–467).


123



philosophy, the phenomenologist therefore takes on an existential responsibility.12

Submitting one’s epistemic situation—what I claim to know and how I know—to

critical scrutiny (to the epoche and the reduction) is a matter of doing the right thing

so as to have the right to be sure; to have the right to be sure, however, for as long as

there are no reasons to doubt what I am sure about. It is in this way, as the‘‘principle of all principles’’ suggests, that intuition is a ‘‘source of right’’

( Rechtquelle). As I do the right thing, namely, critique my epistemic situation,

recognize my finitude, etc., I must accept the principle that only intuitive evidence

will ground my beliefs whereby I may have a ‘‘right’’ to (at least) think them to be

true. This self-certainty, clarity in one’s thoughts, or confidence ( Bewubtein), is, I

argue, what characterizes authenticity and thus internal stability for Husserl.13 It is

precisely this aspect of Husserl’s thought, moreover, which resounds with

Heidegger’s distinction between the ambiguity of idle chatter and genuine, or

authentic, discourse. Thus I claim that justification and clarity is a means toauthenticity and internal stability, since the search for justification involves owning

up to the responsibility to clarify what might have been once naıvely believed, and

this owning up requires a resolute decision together with the courage to act on that

decision.

It is this courage to act, or react, in the face of established ‘‘knowledge’’ that

serves as an epistemic-existential virtue in Husserl’s philosophy. This is perhaps

why Van Breda attributes so much existential worth to the phenomenological

method; if one is willing to dig into the depths of what one knows, then one can

‘‘escape the inauthentic existence of the natural attitude’’ (note 2). Of course, I donot agree with the implications of Van Breda’s thesis, namely, that everyone who

remains fixated in the natural attitude is inauthentic; after all, there are other ways to

own up to one’s life. Even if most of these ways do require an initial reflective

move, some of them do not require the persistent performance of that move in order

to remain authentic. Nevertheless, one can see that it does take courage to shift

one’s perspective and see that the world is, as Fink says, ‘‘a constitutive result.’’

This courage, however, must never falter. In the concluding paragraph to §96 of

Ideas, Husserl (1998) makes the following remark:

we should and must strive in each step we take to describe faithfully what wereally see from our own point of view and after the most earnest consideration.

Our procedure is that of a scientific traveler in an unknown part of the world,

carefully describing what is presented along his unbeaten path…Such an

12 Henry Pietersma puts the matter in less poignant terms: ‘‘a subject who is utterly committed to

rationality should reflect on his epistemic situation and submit it to critical scrutiny. He should ask

himself whether the situation really has the character of perception which his cognitive claim implied.

Has his cognitive intention been completely filled or does the object intended have components which are

in some way referred to but not given?…Either you must be able to suggest further meaningfulexplorations or I have the right to be sure’’ (Elliston and McCormick 1977, pp. 42–43).13 Bewubtein is, of course, translated as ‘‘consciousness.’’ In some places, Fred Kersten translates it as

‘‘confidence’’ (Husserl 1998, §96). It makes sense, since when one is conscious of X, one is also confident

that X is what is being thought about. Although the terms are not prima facie interchangeable, it does not

seem too much of a violation to interchange them in the present context.

390 C. A. Sanchez

123



explorer can rightfully be filled with the sure consciousness [ Ihn darf das

sichere Bewusstein erfu llen (Kersten translates Bewusstein as ‘‘confidence’’)]

that his expression, in relation to time and circumstance is the thing that must

be said, which, because it faithfully expresses what has been seen, preserves

its value always—even when further research calls for new descriptions withmanifold improvements. In a similar temper we wish in what lies ahead before

us to be loyal expounders of phenomenological structures, and for the rest to

preserve the habit of inner freedom in regards to our own descriptions. (p. 235)

This passage expresses the existential worries alluded to throughout this paper,

namely, the worry that a lack of attention to the justificatory sources of our beliefs

and to those beliefs themselves can lead us to drown in the naivete of the public

world (in ‘‘everyday beliefs’’). Husserl thus writes of being ‘‘faithful’’ to our

experience, experiences which can always be new, of being filled with confidence,

with a ‘‘sure consciousness,’’ when our expressions (spoken or merely entertained in

our minds) correspond ‘‘faithfully’’ [treuer ] to an aspect of the world that,

moreover, due to the limitations imposed by ‘‘time and circumstance’’ might later be

modified (a belief, for example, that might be certain now, but become doubtful

later due to some further experience). This flies in the face of some lines of thinking

in Husserlian scholarship that argue that Husserl never took into consideration

‘‘time and circumstance’’ in the justification of beliefs.14 He had to take context into

account, since fulfillment is impossible without it; with this, one can say the (not so)

obvious: that in order to be authentic one’s beliefs must be justified through worldly

experience of objects encountered, necessarily, in an environment, in a context.Without worldly experience, one could never achieve the clarity and confidence

which one clearly seeks. The experience of fulfillment or justification thus adds

intrinsic unity to one’s life, and so it must be sought at every step of the way.

Therefore, since Husserl’s phenomenology is a means to clarity, and clarity gained

through justification is means to confidence, then phenomenology is a means to

confidence, and harmony, which I believe is a necessary condition for authenticity

and, thus, internal stability. If I am confident that what I claim to know is true, that

is, then I am more capable of taking a stand on my circumstances, thus on my own

life, and hence make my life my own.

Conclusion: Inner Stability Achieved

It is traditionally believed that Husserl’s conception of the phenomenological

method was that it was to serve a very specific role, namely, that of grounding

science by supplying the essential foundations for particular regions of scientific

research (regional ontologies). In this paper I have made the case that a more

14 My emphasis; Pierre Keller (1999), for instance, makes the following claim: ‘‘Any justification of our

beliefs also depends on the context in which we find ourselves. There is no way to provide a justification

of our beliefs that transcends all context whatsoever, as traditional philosophers such as Descartes and

Husserl think, who seek to identify beliefs that have a certainty that is completely independent of any

particular context of justification’’ (157; my emphasis).


123



existential aspiration underlies phenomenology’s scientific exterior: internal stabil-

ity through authentic, clear, thinking. The worry over justification which I attribute

to Husserl is consequently of existential significance. In effect, this type of

justification deals with those beliefs that make us who we are, and which,

ultimately, provide the basis for authentic or inauthentic existence.The phenomenological reduction, as a turning-back-upon consciousness, is a

violent yet worthwhile gesture against the tendencies of our natural attitude. It is

violent since we must ‘‘suspend,’’ and put out of influence those beliefs with which

we are familiar, that inform us, and fearlessly subject those beliefs to critical

scrutiny; it is worthwhile since what we gain is clarity, confidence, internal

harmony, and authenticity (likewise the possibility of understanding ourselves as

being deliberately inauthentic). What is at stake is nothing less than the role of

reason in our worldly existence; thus, in Husserl’s eyes, it is also indispensable. ‘‘On

the level of the individual subject,’’ writes Marcus Brainard (2002), ‘‘rationalityproves to be harmony, the total agreement of a positing and its objectuality or, more

generally, between belief and Being’’ (p. 217). Thus proper justification of our

beliefs, namely, harmony in respect to the coincidence of belief (the finite) and

Being (the infinite) also makes way for harmony in the sense of ‘‘internal stability,’’

which, I’ve argued, characterizes the existential underpinnings of Husserl’s

phenomenological method.15

References

Brainard, M. (2002). Belief and its neutralization: Husserl’s system of phenomenology in Ideas I . Albany:

State University of New York Press.

Carr, D. (1999). The paradox of subjectivity: The self in the transcendental tradition. Oxford: Oxford

University Press.

Descartes, R. (1993). Meditations on first philosophy (trans: Cress, D.A.). Indianapolis: Hackett

Publishing Co.

Elliston, F., & McCormick, P. (Eds.). (1977). Husserl: Expositions and appraisals. Notre Dame:

University of Notre Dame Press.

Fink, E. (1995). Sixth cartesian meditation (trans: Bruzina, R.). Bloomington: Indiana University Press.

Heidegger, M. (1962). Being and Time (trans: Macquarrie, J. and Robinson, E.). New York: Harper &

Row.Hopkins, B. C. (2003). Husserl’s epoche: Theory, praxis, or something in between? Essays in celebration

of the founding of phenomenological organizations. Retrieved August 16, 2006 from

http://www.o-p-o.net

Husserl, E. (1958). Husserliana band II: Die Idee der Pha nomenologie. Haag: Martinus Nijhoff.

Husserl, E. (1960). 1859–1959. Recueil commemoratif publie a l’occasion du centenaire de la naissance

du philosophe (Commemorative anthology on the occasion of Husserl’s birth) . Phaenomenologica,

Vol. 4.

Husserl, E. (1964). The idea of Phenomenology (trans: Alston, W.). The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff.

Husserl, E. (1970). The crisis of the European sciences and transcendental phenomenology (trans: Carr,

D.). Evanston: Northwestern University Press.

Husserl, E. (1984). Logische Untersuchungen, Zweiter Band: Untersuchungen zur Pha nomenologie und Theorie der Erkenntnis. The Hague: Martinus Nijhhoff.

15 I am grateful to Professors Iain Thomson and Richard Tieszen, who guided my thinking through the

initial phases of this paper. I would also like to thank the two anonymous referees for Human Studies for

their valuable comments and suggestions.

392 C. A. Sanchez

123

http://www.o-p-o.net/

http://www.o-p-o.net/



Husserl, E. (1998). Ideas pertaining to a pure phenomenology and to a phenomenological philosophy,

first book: General introduction to a pure phenomenology (trans: Kersten, F.). Dordrecht: Kluwer

Academic Publishers.

Keller, P. (1999). Husserl and Heidegger on human experience. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Kierkegaard, S. (1992). Concluding unscientific postscript to Philosophical Fragments (trans: Hong, H.

and Hong, E.). Princeton: Princeton University Press.Levinas, E. (1998). Discovering existence with Husserl (trans: Cohen, R.A. and Smith, M.B.). Evenston:

Northwestern University Press.

Nietzsche, F. (1999). The Birth of Tragedy and other writings (trans: Spiers, R.). Cambridge: Cambridge

University Press.

Parfit, D. (1984). Reasons and Persons. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

Thevenaz, P. (1962). What is phenomenology? (trans: Edie, J. Courtney, C. and Brockelman, P.).

Chicago: Quadrangle Books.

Thomson, I. (2005). Heidegger’s perfectionist philosophy of education in Being and Time. Continental

Philosophy Review, 37 (4), 439–467.

Welton, D. (2000). The other Husserl: The horizons of transcendental phenomenology. Bloomington:

Indiana University Press.


13

husserl's authentic being

Documents