1. Introduction
In his Critique of Pure Reason Kant famously sought to demonstrate the limits of natural science so as to leave room for morality and religion. Merleau-Ponty's Phenomenology of Perception has a more ambitious goal, of demonstrating the limitations of natural science as a way of understanding both human existence and the world. Merleau-Ponty announces this thesis right at the start of the book, in the Preface:
The entire universe of science is constructed upon the lived world, and if we wish to think science rigorously, to appreciate precisely its sense and its scope, we must first awaken that experience of the world of which science is the second-hand expression. […] Scientific perspectives according to which I am a moment of the world are always naïve and hypocritical because they always assume, without mentioning it, that other perspective – the perspective of consciousness – by which a world first arranges itself around me and begins to exist for me. To return to things themselves is to return to this world prior to knowledge, this world of which knowledge always speaks, and this world with regard to which every scientific determination is abstract, signitive, and dependent, just like geography with regard to the landscape where we first learned what a forest, a meadow or a river is.Footnote 1
This is a strong claim. Merleau-Ponty here contrasts scientific points of view as ‘second-hand’ with what he elsewhere calls the ‘primacy of perception’Footnote 2 whereby we are fundamentally at home in the perceived world which alone gives meaning to the abstractions characteristic of scientific theory.Footnote 3 This claim is in part epistemological, to the effect that scientific knowledge relies on perceptions and background beliefs which are ‘prior to knowledge’, that is, which are not established by scientific inquiries. But Merleau-Ponty's claim is fundamentally ontological: our own existence cannot be comprehended within scientific inquiries, and since there are fundamental aspects of the world such as space and time which are dependent on our existence, these too cannot be fully comprehended within scientific inquiries. So for Merleau-Ponty there cannot be a fully scientific account of the world at all. Scientific inquiries can provide a partial characterisation of world, one which captures certain objective but ‘dependent’ aspects; but they are bound to omit aspects which escape scientific characterisation and require instead the attention of the phenomenological philosopher whose task ‘is not the reflection of a prior truth, but rather, like art, the realisation of truth’.Footnote 4
2. What is natural science?
Before discussing Merleau-Ponty's position and his arguments for it, some preliminary points need to be clarified, in particular his conception of natural science. In Phenomenology of Perception Merleau-Ponty provides only a sketchy account of this, according to which natural science is primarily a systematic extension of common sense which aims to capture general causal relationships between the objects and properties encountered in experience.Footnote 5 In addition, he takes it that natural science exemplifies the atomism which is characteristic of ‘empiricism’ and the mind-independence characteristic of ‘realism’. Merleau-Ponty takes it that these assumptions are rooted in perceptual experience and are indeed appropriate to the circumstances of ordinary life; but, he holds, they are unsatisfactory when conceived as fundamental truths about the world we experience.Footnote 6 Merleau-Ponty also claims that once one comes to see the inadequacy of the scientific point of view one will reject the conception of nature implicit in talk of ‘natural science’: ‘We will thus also have to rediscover the natural world and its mode of existence, which does not merge with that of the scientific object’.Footnote 7 Merleau-Ponty then devotes chapter 3 of Part II of Phenomenology of Perception to an investigation into ‘The Thing and the Natural World’, whose conclusion is that the natural world is not the mind-independent totality of objects and properties conceived by realist natural science. Instead ‘the numerical determinations of science go back over the outline of a constitution of the world already accomplished prior to them’Footnote 8, and the authentic natural world thus retraced is ‘the horizon of all horizons, and the style of all styles, which ensures my experiences have a given, not a willed, unity beneath all the ruptures of my personal and historical life’.Footnote 9 A few pages later Merleau-Ponty writes that the world itself ‘in the full sense of the word’ is not an objective totality, for though ‘it is wrapped in objective determinations’, it also has ‘fissures and lacunae through which subjectivities become lodged in it, or, rather, which are subjectivities themselves’.Footnote 10 This passage suggests that the legitimate aim of science might be to characterise these ‘objective determinations’; but also that this wrapping, being essentially dependent on what is wrapped, is not a complete world. Instead the world is a totality which includes both these subjectivities and their objective wrapping.
Merleau-Ponty returned to the conception of nature in later lectures which have recently been published and translated.Footnote 11 His lectures are interesting but they cover such a diverse range of topics that it is not sensible to deal with them here. It is, however, worth looking back briefly to his earlier book The Structure of Behaviour. Merleau-Ponty here associates natural science with ‘naturalism’ and formulates his claim about the limitations of (natural) science in the following way:
The reintroduction of the most unexpected perceptual structures into modern science, far from revealing forms of life or even of mind as already in a physical world in-itself (en soi), only testifies to the fact that the universe of naturalism has not been able to become self-enclosed, and that perception is not an event of nature.Footnote 12
This thesis that ‘perception is not an event of nature’ is central to Merleau-Ponty's position and I shall return to it below. But the context here of this thesis merits further attention. The passage cited above comes at the end of a discussion of ‘Structure in Physics’ whose conclusion is that ‘Laws have meaning only as a means of conceptualizing the perceived world’.Footnote 13 Merleau-Ponty reaches this conclusion by arguing that the general structures which physical laws describe are themselves fundamentally ‘forms’ which are dependent upon the perceptual consciousness which exhibits them. It is hard to know what to make of this, and Merleau-Ponty provides no satisfactory examples to substantiate it. On the face of it, however, there is here a sub-Kantian idealism which does not do justice to the abstract complexity of physical law. Think, say, of the tensors which have a central role in general relativity; they are certainly not ‘forms’ that are manifest in the perceived world. Merleau-Ponty does not, I think, repeat this account of natural law in Phenomenology of Perception, but he does maintain his general sympathy for idealist philosophy which is apparent in the conception of the world discussed just above and which runs throughout his critical assessment of natural science.
Before leaving this topic, there is one other complaint that one can, I think, legitimately direct at Merleau-Ponty. Given the strong claims he makes concerning the limits of scientific knowledge, his references to the great French tradition of history and philosophy of science are disappointing. He alludes occasionally to Koyré and Bachelard, but never, so far as I am aware, to Meyerson, Poincaré and Duhem. Equally disappointing are his dismissive remarks about ‘logical positivism’.Footnote 14 He does not appear to have made any serious attempt to understand the core Vienna circle project of developing and defending a ‘scientific world-conception’. Perhaps he felt that the phenomenological method provides sufficient grounds for dismissing this project without the need to examine it closely. If so, the important contributions of the Vienna circle to the development of 20th century philosophy show that this judgment was seriously mistaken.
3. ‘Perception is not an event of nature’
In the passage cited at the start from the preface to Phenomenology of Perception, Merleau-Ponty wrote that ‘Scientific perspectives according to which I am a moment of the world are always naïve and hypocritical’. They are hypocritical, he holds, because ‘they always assume, without mentioning it, that other perspective – the perspective of consciousness’. As it stands, this is unpersuasive: the ‘scientist’ will of course recognise that his existence includes his consciousness, and in taking his existence to be ‘a moment of the world’, he must accept that his consciousness is included in this moment of the world's existence. Perhaps Merleau-Ponty can show that this is an untenable view; but it is certainly not so self-evidently untenable as to be such that its denial is naïve or, indeed, hypocritical. It is a substantive task for Merleau-Ponty to show that the scientist's claim is mistaken; and, to do Merleau-Ponty justice, he does indeed attempt this task in ways which are both interesting and distinctive.
The key to his approach is the claim that ‘perception is not an event of nature’ which we encountered just now in the passage cited from The Structure of Behaviour. A similar claim occurs in Phenomenology of Perception: ‘There can be no question of describing it [perception] as one of the facts that happens in the world’.Footnote 15 Before considering Merleau-Ponty's arguments for this thesis, it is useful to set it alongside other familiar attempts to substantiate the claim that there is something fundamental about human existence which cannot be captured by scientific methods of inquiry. The most venerable line of thought of this kind invokes the conception of a free will, conceived as a capacity to step back from one's natural inclinations and take control of one's life in a way which transcends the natural laws that are the domain of empirical scientific investigation. One familiar way to substantiate this thought is to regard the freedom of a free will as a case of rational self-determination, and thus as drawing on a capacity for rational thought and action which shows how some aspects of human life can be guided by reason rather than just prompted by natural causes. This capacity for rational thought and action is then often regarded as a dimension of human existence which transcends the natural causes investigated by scientific inquiries. But since this capacity draws on a capacity for critical thought which makes the demands of reason evident, it can also be argued that language and the social practices in which it is embedded are the key to the way in which human existence passes beyond the facts of nature. So we find here a third suggestion to be set alongside freedom and reason for the crucial aspect of human existence which escapes scientific inquiry, namely culture.
Turning back now to Merleau-Ponty, it will be apparent that his appeal to perception introduces a novel dimension to this old debate. It is not, of course, that he repudiates the old trinity – freedom, reason and culture. He certainly affirms that the capacity for free action is a crucial aspect of our existence; unlike Sartre, however, he does not take this capacity to be fundamental. The deep truth about us is not that ‘we are condemned to freedom’Footnote 16 but that ‘we are condemned to meaning’.Footnote 17 That is, our freedom is made possible by the possibilities inherent in ordinary motivations which are guided by the meanings inherent in the world as we perceive it. In many cases these meanings will be conceptual and expressed in language; but, Merleau-Ponty holds, our capacity for language and conceptual thought is based on a more fundamental, ante-predicative, ‘operative’ intentionality that is manifest in the organisation of the perceived world. Thus although Merleau-Ponty recognises the value of rational thought and action, as manifested in self-conscious reflections of a Cartesian subject, he argues that to take these capacities to be distinctive of human existence is to detach our existence from our lives as embodied agents. And when we attend to our own actions, we find, underneath our rational deliberations, a capacity for unreflective action guided by the meanings inherent in the perceived world.
So Merleau-Ponty's emphasis on perception is intended to underpin traditional accounts of the non-natural aspect of human existence, not to exclude them. Nonetheless his position is original and distinctive. The grounds for it lie in his rejection of Cartesian dualism and the neo-Kantian transcendental idealism that he encountered in the works of the French philosophers he studied, such as Leon Brunschvicg and Pierre Lachièze-Rey, and also in some of Husserl's writings, such as Ideas volume I. If the non-natural aspect of human life is not constituted by the role of an immaterial substance, a Cartesian mind, and does not draw on the transcendent activity of a non-empirical subject, then it has to reside somehow within the capacities of the empirical subject; and where many might point to language as the capacity in question, Merleau-Ponty points to perception, conceived as a capacity for ‘originary knowledge’.Footnote 18
Yet no sooner is this thesis encountered than questions come crowding in: while freedom, reason and language are all, on the face of it, characteristically, and perhaps distinctively, human capacities, perception is certainly not. But if perception is not ‘an event in nature’, does this imply that animal life in general is not ‘natural’, not amenable to scientific inquiry? So is zoology not a natural science? Or are we to take it that there is a decisive difference between human perception and the perceptions of other animals, such that the former, unlike the latter, is distinctively non-natural? And, anyway, what is it about perception, animal and/or human, that implies that it is fundamentally non-natural?
4. Why is perception non-natural?
In the course of Phenomenology of Perception Merleau-Ponty advances a great variety of considerations to support his account of perception. But because the book is, in large part, an exploration of the significance of our own perceptual experiences, these considerations primarily concern human perception. However, in his first book, The Structure of Behavior, Merleau-Ponty argues that the meaningful organisation of animal perception and behaviour already sets them apart from the existence of things which lack life in a way which precludes the possibility of a scientific account of animal perception in terms of its physical situation.Footnote 19 He gives a brisk summary of this argument in ‘The Primacy of Perception’:
For the time comes when, precisely because we attempt to apply the procedures of scientific thought to perception, we see clearly why perception is not a phenomenon of the order of physical causality. We observe a response of the organism which ‘interprets’ the stimuli and gives them a certain configuration. To me it seems impossible to hold that this configuration is produced by the stimuli. It comes from the organism and from the behavior of the organism in their presence.Footnote 20
One thing which is notable here (and in Merleau-Ponty's writings generally) is the absence of any consideration of evolutionary accounts of the functions of the perceptual and motor systems of organisms. While Merleau-Ponty is clearly right to hold that an organism's possession of complex abilities such as perceptual sensitivity and motor skills cannot be produced merely by its exposure to physical stimuli, evolutionary theory suggests that over very long periods of time the development of these abilities can be explained by the selective advantages that have accrued to ancestors of the organism from random changes in the genetic basis of their sensory and motor systems which have modified these capacities in ways that turned out to be beneficial. It may be suggested, however, that this response to Merleau-Ponty's argument is too quick, since his claim was just that ‘perception is not a phenomenon of the order of physical causality’, and one might take it that he is primarily concerned to reject a reductive account of perception according to which it is fully explicable in physical terms. One alternative to this reductionist position is the thesis that capacities such as perception ‘emerge’ over the course of evolution once a system has developed sufficient functional complexity to enable it to process and coordinate information from multiple sensory inputs without the exercise of this capacity being in each particular case simply the effect of the combined activities of its physical sub-systems. This emergentist position is notoriously difficult to characterise and defend, and I shall not attempt this task here. But it is sufficient for my present purpose that the position is not obviously untenable, so that it is worth considering whether it provides a reasonable way of interpreting Merleau-Ponty's account of the status of animal perception which does after all allow for scientific explanations of animal perception, since the methodology of natural science does not carry a commitment to the kind of physicalist reduction that emergentism rejects. What counts in favour of this interpretation is the fact that as well as rejecting reductionist treatments of animal perception Merleau-Ponty rejects vitalist accounts which go beyond emergentism by positing the existence of a special constituent which is characteristic of living organisms, such as Bergson's ‘élan vital’.Footnote 21 Like the emergentists, Merleau-Ponty situates his position ‘between’ physicalism and vitalism. However it has to be admitted that his favoured idiom for describing the relationship between the physical and the living is that it is ‘dialectical’.Footnote 22 While I suppose that emergence might be regarded as a kind of materialist dialectic, Merleau-Ponty's use of this idiom seems to be intended to connect with the idealist aspect of his position which I have already noted in his discussion of physical law and which is no part of emergentism. Furthermore, as we have seen, Merleau-Ponty affirms that ‘perception is not an event of nature’Footnote 23, and although one might say that ‘nature’ is to be understood here as just ‘physical nature’, the general tenor of his discussion is hostile to the possibility of even a non-reductive but scientific account of animal perception. So in the end it seems to me that a straightforward emergentist interpretation of Merleau-Ponty's account of animal perception cannot be sustained, though it is then all the more unclear just what his position amounts to.
What now of human perception? In The Structure of Behavior Merleau-Ponty argues that what is distinctive about human existence is ‘the capacity of orienting oneself in relation to the possible’Footnote 24, and he holds that this separates human life from that of other animals in such a way that human life participates in a kind of dialectic distinct from that involved in animal life.Footnote 25 One thing that is clear here is that it is not at all plausible to propose for this case any extension of the emergentist interpretation of animal perception discussed above. For Merleau-Ponty clearly rejects not just a reductionist account of human perception but, more generally, the conception of human perception as just ‘one of the facts that happens in the world’Footnote 26 which rules out the possibility of any objective, scientific, understanding of perception, including non-reductionist accounts. What, however, are his arguments for this bold claim?
One might have expected him to invoke the central role of mere possibilities in the content of perception which is implied in his emphasis on ‘the capacity of orienting oneself in relation to the possible’. For one can envisage a line of argument which relies on the assumption that only actual causes can have effects, and thus infers that insofar as human perception involves ‘the capacity of orienting oneself in relation to the possible’ it transcends causal determination. However, in his discussions of perception, Merleau-Ponty does not draw on considerations of this kind, though in Phenomenology of Perception he does bring some considerations of this kind into his discussion of the capacity for bodily movement (‘motricité’) in a passage I shall discuss below. Instead here is one line of thought from the Introduction to Phenomenology of Perception:
In its general effort towards objectification, science inevitably comes to a conception of the human organism as a physical system in the presence of stimuli themselves defined by their physico-chemical properties, seeks to reconstitute actual perception on this basis and to close the cycle of scientific knowledge by discovering the laws according to which knowledge itself is produced, that is, by establishing an objective science of subjectivity. It is, however, also inevitable that this attempt should fail. If we think back to the objective investigations themselves, we discover first that the exterior conditions of the sensory field do not determine it part by part and only intervene by making an autochthonous organization possible – this is what Gestalt theory shows – and second, that structure in the organism depends on variables such as the biological sense of the situation, which are no longer physical variables, such that the whole escapes the well-known instruments of physico-mathematical analysis and opens onto another kind of intelligibility.
If we now turn back, as is done here, towards perceptual experience, we observe that science succeeds in constructing only a semblance of subjectivity: it introduces sensations, as things, precisely where experience shows there to already be meaningful wholes; it imposes categories upon the phenomenal universe that only make sense within the scientific universe.Footnote 27
Before discussing this in detail, it is worth noting that Merleau-Ponty holds that the ‘general effort towards objectification’ which is characteristic of science is itself in part motivated by perception itself. For, as he puts it:
Our perception ends in objects, and the object, once constituted, appears as the reason for all the experiences of it which we have had or could have.Footnote 28
So
Human life is defined by this power which it has of denying itself in objective thought, and it draws this power from its primordial attachment to the world itself.Footnote 29
Thus the motivation for the kind of understanding characteristic of objective natural science is internal to perception itself. But, Merleau-Ponty holds, this motivation is misguided. Once we manage to suspend this ‘natural attitude’ characteristic of perception and stand back in phenomenological reflection on perception, we come to see that perception has a kind of meaningful subjectivity that cannot be encompassed within the objective framework of natural science.
Why not? If one looks back at the passage cited above, several considerations are apparent:
(i) Merleau-Ponty assumes that an objective scientific account of perception requires a reductive explanation which involves ‘a conception of the human organism as a physical system in the presence of stimuli themselves defined by their physico-chemical properties’. He then argues that an account framed in these terms is bound to fail because perception ‘depends on variables such as the biological sense of the situation, which are no longer physical variables, such that the whole escapes the well-known instruments of physico-mathematical analysis and opens onto another kind of intelligibility’.
(ii) Along with this assumption of reductionism, there is a further assumption that a scientific approach has to rely on atomic ‘sensations’ conceived as elements of perceptual states; on this view ‘Perception is thereby constructed with states of consciousness as a house is built of stones, and a mental chemistry is imagined that could fuse these materials into a compact whole.’Footnote 30 But, Merleau-Ponty argues, Gestalt theory shows that this atomist approach is mistaken, and that holistic forms such as the figure-ground contrast play a central role in determining perceptual content.
(iii) These forms enter into our perceptions as the meaningful structure of experience which enables it to be a way of making sense of things. But, Merleau-Ponty claims, this reference to the role of meaningful structures within perception cannot be accommodated by scientific accounts of perception: ‘objective thought cannot assimilate these phenomena’Footnote 31 because ‘one phenomenon triggers another, not through some objective causality, such as the one linking together the events of nature, but rather through the meaning it offers’.Footnote 32 This argument connects with a central aspect of Merleau-Ponty's discussionFootnote 33, namely a tripartite distinction between causes, reasons, and motives (‘motifs’). Where scientific explanations rely on causal connections and rationalist inferences invoke reasons, in the organisation of perceptual experience the various aspects of experience provide ‘motives’ for making sense of what is being perceived which are neither causes nor reasons. Merleau-Ponty's claim is that there is here a kind of meaningful connection which is fundamental to perception but which cannot be comprehended within an approach which appeals only to objective considerations.
Are these considerations persuasive? The first point concerns the implausibility of reductionist accounts of perception. As I indicated earlier, it is not necessary to take a stand on this issue, since there is no reason to regard non-reductive, emergentist accounts of perception as inherently unscientific. The second point, criticising the atomist presumptions of sensory psychology, may have had legitimate application at the time when Merleau-Ponty was writing, but is now irrelevant. One has only to think of J.J. Gibson's work on sensory systems, such as The Senses Considered as Perceptual Systems, to see that by the 1960s sensory psychology was already detached from the assumptions criticized by Merleau-Ponty.Footnote 34 The third point, however, is the most important one: the issue here is whether one can envisage an explanation of our unreflective capacity for meaningful perception of the world which draws only on natural systems whose functional operations can be understood in causal terms. Merleau-Ponty holds that no such explanation can be sensibly envisaged since causal processes cannot be transformed into capacities which are motivated by meanings. So he treats this capacity as fundamental; it is, he thinks, a kind of intentionality which bears witness to the way in which our embodiment functions as a kind of transcendental subjectivity by giving us the capacity for meaningful perception. However, once one bears in mind both the evolutionary merits one would expect to find built into sub-personal sensory systems and the computational resources available in the brain, it is only to be expected that they should deliver perceptions that make sense of the perceived environment. David Marr's famous account of vision, although speculative and open to criticism in many of its details, shows how scientific inquiries might in principle provide the kind of account which Merleau-Ponty declared to be beyond the reach of science.Footnote 35 More generally, functionalist accounts of content show how systematic causal considerations can be used to assign intentional content to perceptual states which guide actions performed to fulfil desiresFootnote 36. So while Merleau-Ponty identifies plausible requirements on a tenable sensory psychology, once one appreciates the computational resources available in the brain and the potential role of evolution in programming these resources, it is hard to see why an ‘objective’ sensory neuroscience should not be able to accommodate these requirements. Certainly Merleau-Ponty provides no detailed argument to show that this is not possible.
So far the discussion has largely concerned the supposed limitations of a scientific account of perception, which I have argued are misconceived. But what becomes clear as Merleau-Ponty develops his line of thought in Phenomenology of Perception is a more radical thesis which draws on a claim which came up earlier, that although the world ‘in the full sense of the word […] is wrapped in objective determinations’Footnote 37 with which natural science deals, this wrapping covers, or rather, is structured and sustained by ‘subjectivities’ such as our spatiality and temporality, which are integral to perception and exclude the possibility of an objective account of perception.
5. The phenomenal body
Merleau-Ponty's way of addressing this bold claim is slightly oblique. He begins by taking the case of the body and arguing that when we understand properly the nature of our own embodiment we will see that objective natural science does not provide a satisfactory approach to it, and that we require instead an existential analysis which focuses on subjective perspectives that cannot be accommodated within a broader objective, scientific, point of view. Merleau-Ponty initially introduces this attention to the case of the body in part because, he thinks, it is a paradigmatic case in which the scientific approach breaks down –
Let us, then, consider objective thought at work in the constitution of our body as an object, since this is a decisive moment in the genesis of the objective world. We will see that, in science itself, one's own body evades the treatment which it is intended to impose upon it.Footnote 38
But, as he goes on to say, the case of the body is not just paradigmatic: it also has a foundational role –
And since the genesis of the objective body is but a moment in the constitution of the object, the body, by withdrawing from the objective world, will carry with it the intentional threads that link it to its surroundings and finally reveal to us the perceiving subject as well as the perceived world.Footnote 39
Why does ‘one's own body evade the treatment which it is intended to impose upon it’ in science? Why should we come to treat the ‘objective body’ as just an ‘impoverished image’ of the body ‘as we live it’, the ‘phenomenal body’Footnote 40, which is not an object at all but our embodiment? Merleau-Ponty's argument rests on two paradigmatic cases in which, he holds, objective considerations lack the resources to deal with the bodily situation, and in which we need to introduce instead an existential perspective which draws essentially on the subject's experience and way of engaging with his situation. These cases will be familiar, one concerns the phenomenon of the phantom limb experienced by many amputees, the other that of the disability suffered by a patient with a brain injury, Schneider, whose case was studied and written up in detail by the psychologists Gelb and Goldstein. I shall not discuss these cases in any detail; my aim will be just to bring out the points that are central to the use which Merleau-Ponty makes of them so that his general claim about the limitations of objective approaches to the body can be assessed.
(i) The Phantom Limb.
The discussion of the phantom limb occurs in the context of a discussion of the body-image and body-schema, which Merleau-Ponty takes to be central to our capacity for organised behaviour. What is special about the case of the phantom limb is, first, the failure of the agent to adapt his body schema to his new situation, so that the leg amputee is liable to get up and set off as if he still had the amputated leg, and then fall over; and, second, the persistence of a hazy sense of the presence of the amputated limb in the agent's background body-image. For Merleau-Ponty this failure is only really understandable in existential terms, as a repressed memory of life in an undamaged condition which persists as an unconscious refusal to accept mutilation. Yet although one can readily see why amputation brings with it the emotional affect Merleau-Ponty here introduces, it is also easy enough to see why the agent's sub-personal bodily dispositions are likely to retain well-entrenched aspects of the body-schema and body-image even after the amputation of the leg. Indeed these can even be beneficial. Oliver Sacks remarks that their persistence is invaluable for an amputee who is learning to use a prosthetic limb: it makes it much easier for the agent to incorporate the prosthetic limb into their body-schema if it occupies the place in the body image preserved by the phantom limb.Footnote 41 So it is hard to see that the phantom limb phenomenon provides a clear counterexample to a scientific conception of the body.
(ii) Schneider.
The issue posed by the case of Schneider is that of connecting his unusual disability, his incapacity for ‘abstract movement’, with the brain injury he suffered during WWI. Merleau-Ponty's claim, put very simply, is that this connection cannot be identified if one concentrates only on his neurophysiological injuries and the associated functional problems such as the damage to his visual system. Instead the ground of Schneider's problem can be diagnosed only if one places his situation in the context of a fundamental aspect of our capacity for action, namely a basic intentionality which informs our movements with a sense of the past, the future, the possible, the sensible and so on; it is a diminution in this capacity which best explains Schneider's multiple handicaps. Here is Merleau-Ponty's well-known presentation of this claim:
So let us say instead, by borrowing a term from another work, that the life of consciousness – epistemic life, the life of desire or perceptual life – is subtended by an ‘intentional arc’ that projects around us our past, our future, our human milieu, our physical situation, our ideological situation, and our moral situation, or rather, that ensures that we are situated within all these relationships. This intentional arc creates the unity of the senses, the unity of the senses with intelligence, and the unity of sensibility and motricity. And this is what ‘goes limp’ in illness.Footnote 42
This passage captures a core theme of Merleau-Ponty's book, and it is one with which I have no quarrel. But what remains to be clarified are the grounds for the moral Merleau-Ponty seeks to draw from this case, namely that this basic intentionality involves a kind of bodily subjectivity which cannot be accommodated within the objective standpoint of a scientific approach to perception and behaviour. For why should this basic intentionality not be a capacity which is grounded in the sub-personal cognitive systems which are developed and sustained by the agent's neural centres – it is, after all, a brain injury which has led to Schneider's incapacity (as Merleau-Ponty himself emphasizes)?Footnote 43
Merleau-Ponty has two lines of thought in support of his position. One concerns scientific methodology: in the only place in the book in which he does discuss thisFootnote 44 he argues that while there are never ‘crucial experiments’ in science, the implications of apparent counterexamples are managed in different ways in physics and psychology. In physics different hypotheses which offer specific solutions to the problem posed by a counterexample can be ranked in terms of their relative probability; but in psychology this not possible because of the holistic aspects of psychological problems. Hence a scientific approach which offers specific hypotheses, such as damage to the visual system, is never going to be satisfactory. Thus we need to find a much more all-embracing diagnosis which signals ‘the failure of inductive method or of causal thinking in psychology’.Footnote 45 This line of argument does not strike me as persuasive. Post-Kuhn we are familiar with the way in which a succession of ‘anomalies’ can lead to a ‘crisis’ in an area of natural science whose solution requires not the piecemeal revisions of normal science but the kind of all-embracing gestalt shift Merleau-Ponty seeks to identify as characteristic of psychology. And within psychology (and medicine) there is, equally, plenty of scope for the piecemeal revisions of normal science as new research identifies and refines distinctions that were not previously drawn properly (e.g. between different types of diabetes).
The other line of thought harks back to the point which came up earlier in The Structure of Behavior, that the distinctive feature of human life is ‘the capacity of orienting oneself in relation to the possible’.Footnote 46 Merleau-Ponty comes back to this here, as a fundamental difference between Schneider (‘the patient’) and ourselves (‘the normal person’):
Whereas for the normal person every motor or tactile event gives rise in consciousness to an abundance of intentions that run from the body as a centre of virtual action either towards the body itself or towards the object, for the patient, on the contrary, the tactile impression remains opaque and closed in upon itself. Certainly, it can draw the grasping hand toward itself, but it is not laid out before that hand as something that could be pointed to. The normal person reckons with the possible, which thus acquires a sort of actuality without leaving behind its place as a possibility; for the patient, however, the field of the actual is limited to what is encountered in real contact or linked to these givens through an explicit deduction.Footnote 47
Merleau-Ponty does not spell out how this difference poses a challenge to the possibility of an objective scientific account of normal bodily intentionality, but the passage certainly suggests a way of developing an argument here. Whereas Schneider's situation, in which his movements are prompted by ‘real contact’, is accessible to ordinary causal explanation, the way in which the ‘normal person's’ behaviour is prompted by the perception of mere possibilities cannot be explained in the same way, since mere possibilities cannot be actual causes.
An initial response to this argument will be that it is the actual perception of a possibility, e.g. a threat, which prompts movement, not the possibility itself. But what still needs to be explained is the way in which mere possibilities can enter into the content of actual perception. In simple cases, this is not a great problem: animals are quick to learn from past bad experiences about the types of situation they should avoid; indeed in some cases these dispositions appear to be innate. More generally, then, the involvement of dispositions to action, innate or learnt, with more or less complex perceptual stimuli must be fundamental to this capacity to ‘reckon with the possible’. What is less easy to sketch is a construction of the perceptual, cognitive and motor dispositions that are needed to flesh out in plausible detail just how our ordinary ways of responding to perceived opportunities are best understood. If one were to assume a mastery of language, including a grasp of conditionals and counterfactuals, then it would be easy to specify what is required. But it is central to Merleau-Ponty's position that the capacity to reckon with the possible is manifest in a normal person's ante-predicative bodily intentionality in a way which does not depend on language, and if one thinks of the ways in which we learn to respond to the behaviour of others, this seems correct. Thus what is required is an account of a developing network of dispositions with a recursive structure in which an understanding of one's situation comes to include a sense of the possibilities for action inherent in it. That is clearly a task for empirical cognitive psychology, not armchair speculation. But the important point here is that this task, difficult though it is, does not appear to be in principle impossible, nor to be one which is bound to break with ordinary requirements of objective scientific inquiry. So Merleau-Ponty's discussion of Schneider's disabilities, interesting though it is, does not in the end appear to substantiate his thesis that our subjective embodiment cannot be comprehended within the canons of objective scientific inquiry.
6. Space and Time
At the start of Part II of Phenomenology of Perception (‘The Perceived World’) Merleau-Ponty maintains that the fundamental role of perception in providing the framework for knowledge of the world excludes the possibility of providing a comprehensive account of perception within the objective structure of natural science, and this brings in considerations which I have not yet discussed. He provides a memorable metaphorical formulation of this argument at the start of the chapter on ‘Sensing’ (sentir):
If we believe in the world's past, in the physical world, in ‘stimuli,’ and in the organism such as it is represented in textbooks, this is first of all because we have a present and real perceptual field, a surface of contact with the world or a perceptual rooting in it; it is because the world ceaselessly bombards and besieges subjectivity just as waves surround a shipwreck on the beach. All knowledge is established within the horizons opened up by perception. Since perception is the ‘flaw’ in this ‘great diamond,’ there can be no question of describing it as one of the facts that happens in the world, for the picture of the world will always include this lacuna that we are and by which the world itself comes to exist for someone.Footnote 48
The argument here can, I think, be assessed by concentrating on space and time as ‘the horizons opened up by perception’ whose central role in the perceived world entails that perception cannot be just ‘one of the facts that happens in the world’. The argument goes roughly as follows:
(a) Any objective, scientific, account of perception must include reference to the objective spatio-temporal relationships between the perceiving subject and the subject's environment.
(b) But objective conceptions of space and time are dependent on a subjective, perspectival, understanding of the spatial and temporal relationships which configure the subject's perceived world.
(c) So the objective account of perception aimed at in (i) turns out to rest upon the subject's perspectival spatio-temporal configuration of the perceived world; and since this perspectival configuration is precisely that provided by the subject's perceptions, it indicates the ‘lacuna that we are and by which the world itself comes to exist for someone’.
(i) Space
In thinking about this argument I shall deal separately with space and time since Merleau-Ponty provides separate discussions of them. I shall therefore treat the argument (a)-(c) as the conjunction of two arguments, one concerning space, the other time, and I start with the case of space.
The first premise, (a), is, I think, relatively uncontentious. Any understanding of perception has to start from recognition of two aspects of it: first, the essentially perspectival, egocentric, structure of ordinary perception, especially vision; second, the fact that, nonetheless, we perceive things as objects whose properties are not intrinsically perspectival. So there is a tension in perception between the way in which the things perceived are presented as located in an objective, uncentred, three-dimensional space and the essentially perspectival, egocentric, perceptual presentation, or appearance, itself. Our sub-personal perceptual systems normally resolve this tension for us without reflective effort on our part, and it is a central aim of a scientific account of perception to understand how this takes place. But clearly such an account must start from the subject's actual, objective, spatial relationship with its environment. In outline it is not difficult to grasp how these relationships give rise to differentiated, ‘perspectival’, sensory stimuli, and to suppose that these stimuli are processed by our cognitive systems in such a way that we arrive at the perspectival but objective perceptual consciousness we enjoy. But, according to premise (b) above, beyond a certain stage any account of this kind will find itself thrown back upon a subjective understanding of space.
It is clear that this premise, concerning the relationship between an objective, uncentred, understanding of space and an egocentric, perspectival, understanding, is the core of Merleau-Ponty's argument. He holds that because the perspectival understanding is fundamental, there is no way in which an objective understanding can encompass perspectival experience. In response it will be argued that while, of course, there is no way in which experience can be anything but perspectival, in that there is no ‘view from nowhere’, it does not follow that we cannot achieve an understanding of space as uncentred. Indeed, it will be argued, in order to understand both our own movement through space and the way in which we share space with other people who are located at different places, we are led quickly and naturally to a conception of an objective, uncentred, space within which we are ourselves located. Merleau-Ponty does not deny this last point: indeed, as we have seen, he emphasises that ‘our perception ends in objects, and the object, once constituted, appears as the reason for all the experiences of it which we have had or could have’.Footnote 49 Nonetheless he holds that this objective conception, so far from capturing a fundamental truth about space, captures only an abstracted aspect of a phenomenon that is fundamentally subjective. He provides two reasons for this claim. The first concerns the implications of the way in which perception places limits on what we can conceive; he writes:
Thus, since every conceivable being relates directly or indirectly to the perceived world, and since the perceived world is grasped only through orientation, we cannot dissociate being from oriented being; there is no reason to ‘ground’ space or to ask what is the level of all levels.Footnote 50
We see here the thesis that oriented space is fundamental, and not the kind of objective space that might be a space of all spaces. But what is the basis for the opening claim, concerning ‘every conceivable being’? Merleau-Ponty explains this by means of a ‘dialogue’ model of perceptual investigation:
Given that relations among things or among the appearances of things are always mediated by our body, then the setting of our own life must in fact be all of nature; nature must be our interlocutor in a sort of dialogue.
And that is why we cannot ultimately conceive of a thing that could be neither perceived nor perceptible. As Berkeley said, even a desert that has never been visited has at least one spectator, and it is we ourselves when we think of it, that is, when we perform the mental experiment of perceiving it. The thing can never be separated from someone who perceives it; nor can it ever be actually in itself because its articulations are the very ones of our existence, and because it is posited at the end of a gaze or at the conclusion of a sensory exploration that invests it with humanity. To this extent, every perception is a communication or a communion, the taking up or the achievement by us of an alien intention or inversely the accomplishment outside ourselves of our perceptual powers as a coupling of our body with the things.Footnote 51
This is a remarkable passage. Merleau-Ponty's endorsement of Berkeley makes explicit a strand of subjective idealism in his position that helps one to make sense of it even if it does not provide any support for it. If we can only understand things as ‘perceived or perceptible’, then it follows that we can have no coherent understanding of an uncentred, objective, space; for any space we can perceive is bound to be perspectival. But why should we accept this Berkleian thesis (which Merleau-Ponty repeats elsewhere)?Footnote 52 It is not as though Merleau-Ponty shares Berkeley's theological conception of ideas. Instead Merleau-Ponty presents a conception of perception as a bodily dialogue between ourselves and the world as a way of introducing his Berkleian thesis. In principle this is an attractive way of thinking about perception; Richard Gregory used it in his influential works on vision such as Eye and Brain: The Psychology of Seeing.Footnote 53 But for Merleau-Ponty the dialogue model is taken to imply that the exercise of perceptual powers is constitutive of our understanding of the things perceived – ‘communication’ becomes ‘communion’, and this is ‘why in the last analysis we cannot conceive anything which is not perceived or perceptible’. I am afraid that Merleau-Ponty's reasoning here strikes me as unconvincing. Any empiricist will agree with him that our understanding of the world is grounded on empirical evidence; but it does not follow that our understanding of world is limited to what is thus perceived or perceptible. On the contrary, when we consider cosmological questions about the origins of the universe, our empirically grounded understanding may well lead us to frame a conception of aspects of the world which transcend the possibility of perception. Merleau-Ponty however insists that ‘Nothing will ever lead me to understand what a nebula, which could not be seen by anyone, might be’.Footnote 54 By this standard much of contemporary cosmology would then be incomprehensible to Merleau-Ponty. Similarly, returning to the present issue, our empirically grounded understanding of space leads us to a conception of an uncentred, objective, space in which we ourselves and the things we perceive are located; and the fact that we cannot perceive such a space as such is no reason for declaring it to be nonsensical, or at best a derivative abstraction from the egocentric oriented space which configures our perceptions.
In addition to this ‘Berkleian’ argument, Merleau-Ponty argues that ‘realism’ leads to difficulties with respect to motionFootnote 55 and thus, by implication, with respect to space. What is the argument? It is just Zeno's ‘arrow’ paradox; that if we think of space and time as determinate distances which can be fully occupied by an arrow at an instant, then we will not be able to conceive how it is that an arrow can move at all since at each instant it just occupies one determinate region of space. Merleau-Ponty endorses this argument, which he attributes to ‘the logician’; but he thinks that there is a way out – namely to reject the logician's assumptions concerning objective space and time, and instead think of movement as fundamentally change of location within oriented space which takes place during a non-instantaneous present that retains a past and anticipates a future. Here is Merleau-Ponty:
The logician would have nothing to think about, not even an appearance of movement, if there were no movement prior to the objective world that might serve as the source of all of our claims touching upon movement […]Footnote 56
What gives the status ‘moving object’ to one part of the visual field, and the status ‘background’ to another is the manner in which we establish our relations with it through the act of looking.Footnote 57
What are we to make of this? I am afraid that it is a mistake. Zeno's paradox, deep though it is, is resolved by allowing that there can be motion at an instant – as is required by Newton's theory. One can of course pursue the issues of the continuity of space and time further, e.g. by arguing that they are dense, not continuous, and then interpreting motion along a dense series. But no sensible line of thought here is going to lead to Merleau-Ponty's odd subjectivist account of motion.
(ii) Time
Time was involved in the discussion of motion, but it needs treatment by itself. Indeed Merleau-Ponty devotes a chapter specially to it – ‘Temporality’. It is notable that this chapter occurs in Part III (‘Being-for-itself and Being-in-the-world’) along with the chapters on the Cogito and Freedom, and not in Part II (‘The Perceived World’) where the chapter on Space occurs. This difference reflects a Kantian presumption, that where space is the form of outer sense, and thus enters into the constitution of the perceived world, time is the form of inner sense, and thus belongs with a discussion of subjectivity. Indeed this is where Merleau-Ponty ends up: ‘But if the subject is temporality, […]’Footnote 58 he writes in a context in which it is clear that he holds that the subject is indeed temporality, since he affirms that subjectivity is a kind of temporalization of the world whereby ‘once I am born, time flows through me.’Footnote 59 It is not clear what this position amounts to but we can get some sense of it from the following passage:
Everything sends me back to the field of presence, as if to the originary experience where time and its dimensions appear in person without any intervening distance and with an ultimate evidentness. This is where we see a future slipping into the present and on into the past.Footnote 60
It is not necessary to explore this position in detail here; my interest lies primarily in Merleau-Ponty's critical discussion of the objective conception of time that is characteristic of natural science. But going back to the argument concerning the inescapable failure of scientific accounts of perception I set out above at the start of the discussion of space, it will be clear already that Merleau-Ponty affirms the temporal component of premise (b) of that argument, that is that objective conceptions of time are dependent on a subjective understanding of the temporal relationships which configure the subject's perceived world. Indeed the subjectivity of time is central to his critique of science and objective thought generally: ‘The ideal of objective thought is simultaneously both grounded upon and left in ruins by temporality’.Footnote 61
In order to understand why Merleau-Ponty affirms this position we can start from the familiar distinction between tenseless and tensed conceptions of time; Merleau-Ponty juxtaposes them in the following passage:
It is objective time that is made up of successive moments. The lived present contains a past and a future within its thickness.Footnote 62
Merleau-Ponty holds that the tenseless, objective, conception of time is, considered by itself, unsatisfactory in that it does not provide a basis for temporal order:
If the objective world is detached from the finite perspectives that open onto it, and if it is posited in itself, then all that can be found throughout it are ‘nows’. Moreover, these nows, not being present to anyone, have no temporal character and could not succeed one another.Footnote 63
Clearly much is being assumed here. One assumption concerns the conditions for the possibility of change and Merleau-Ponty's subjectivist line of thought is clear in the following passage:
When I say that the water currently passing by was produced by the glacier two days ago, I imply a witness fixed to a certain place in the world and I compare his successive perspectives: […] And yet, if I consider this world itself, there is but a single indivisible being that does not change. Change presupposes a certain observation post where I place myself and from where I can see things go by; there are no events without someone to whom they happen and whose finite perspective grounds their individuality.Footnote 64
One way to think about the argument here is that the Berkleian thesis discussed above is again at work: the only way we can conceive of temporal order, Merleau-Ponty assumes, is by thinking of it as ‘perceived or perceptible’, and thus ‘tacitly assuming the existence of a witness tied to a certain spot in the world and […] comparing his successive views’. Merleau-Ponty duly draws the requisite anti-realist conclusion concerning time:
Thus, time is neither a real process nor an actual succession that could limit myself simply to recording it. It is born of my relation with things.Footnote 65
Given all of this, the way in which Merleau-Ponty's position unfolds is not surprising; what is fundamental is an original upsurge, a subjective ‘temporalisation’ that provides within the lived present of experience both an immediate past and an anticipated future. But what is important here is whether Merleau-Ponty has provided good reasons for treating the objective scientific conception of time as at best a derivative abstraction. One reason was the Berkleian thesis that what is conceivable must be perceptible; but as before, that reason should be set aside (indeed our capacity for understanding the distant past provides an obvious challenge to the Berkleian thesis). However there is a different line of thought concerning temporal order and change which merits attention, namely that the fundamental temporal order is that what is present was once future and will be past, and that this kind of change is fundamental to time: to repeat a passage quoted just now ‘if I consider this world itself, there is but a single indivisible being that does not change. Change presupposes a certain observation post where I place myself and from where I can see things go by’.Footnote 66
This point can be separated from the Berkleian thesis; instead this aspect of Merleau-Ponty's position can be clarified by comparing it to McTaggart's famous discussion of time.Footnote 67 For McTaggart, the B-series conception of time as the framework for a tenseless ordering of events is not ‘real’ (i.e. fundamental) because it does not provide for change, since neither events themselves nor their tenseless order change. Hence to allow for change, whose possibility is fundamental to time, we need to switch to the tensed A-series way of assigning tenses (past, present, future) to events, which accommodates change in virtue of the fact that what is present was future and will be past. According to McTaggart, however, this very feature of the A-series also implies that every event is past, present and future, which is contradictory; so he moves to his notorious conclusion that time itself is contradictory and thus unreal. Merleau-Ponty agrees with McTaggart that the objective, tenseless, conception of time does not allow for change, and that this provides a reason to adopt a tensed conception of time. But he rejects McTaggart's conclusion that time is contradictory because he explicitly relativises tense, and thus time, to the subject's present experience. Thus as far as his critique of the tenseless, objective, conception of time is concerned, the key point is that concerning change where McTaggart and Merleau-Ponty are in agreement: time so conceived does not allow for change. To respond to this, it is not necessary to go into much detail. Real change in respect of properties can readily be understood in B-series terms as long as we have a robust conception of these propertiesFootnote 68; we have only to think of one and the same object having a property at one time and lacking that property at a later time. Furthermore change with respect to tense – future to present to past etc. – is readily captured by a token-reflexive account of tensed thought which eliminates any suspicion of contradiction in such changes. So this argument concerning the impossibility of allowing for change within a fundamentally objective conception of time turns out to be misguided.
As a result, a scientific realist can legitimately reject Merleau-Ponty's critical discussion of realism concerning time. And since Merleau-Ponty takes the point to be of fundamental importance – ‘The ideal of objective thought is simultaneously both grounded upon and left in ruins by temporality’ – this conclusion significantly damages Merleau-Ponty's position.Footnote 69
7. Normativity and culture
So far I have concentrated on what I take to be Merleau-Ponty's chief arguments for his critical rejection of the very idea of providing a scientific account of human existence and of the world. In this final section I discuss some further considerations which he advances in support of his position without placing much emphasis upon them.
One type of consideration concerns normativity, and the point here is indeed familiar from current debates. Whereas natural science aims to provide an account not only of what does happen, but also of what is likely to happen or cannot happen or would happen if … etc., it does not of itself lead to conclusions concerning what ought or ought not to happen. So where the exercise of a human ability involves sensitivity to normative requirements of this kind, this fact strongly suggests that the ability is not amenable to a fully scientific, naturalistic, treatment. And if one thinks of the exercise of virtues such as courage, this suggestion does indeed seem to be correct since the identification of these abilities as virtues draws on ethical considerations that are no part of natural science. But what is often disputed when this argument is proposed is whether the exercise of the ability in question really has the kind of normative component which precludes a naturalistic scientific account of its possession and exercise. A famous case in point concerns the ability to carry out arithmetical addition successfully.Footnote 70 It is not appropriate to enter into that long-standing debate here, but the debate shows clearly that invoking normativity as a ground for an anti-naturalist conclusion is not a straightforward matter.
Turning back now to Merleau-Ponty, we do indeed find that he holds that there is a kind of normativity in perception:
For each object, just as for each picture in an art gallery, there is an optimal distance from which it asks to be seen, – an orientation through which it presents more of itself – beneath or beyond which we merely have a confused perception due to excess or lack.Footnote 71
Hence one might argue that this normativity of perception reveals an aspect of it that transcends scientific explanation. But elsewhere Merleau-Ponty connects this normativity with our capacity for recognizing what we perceive:
An orientation in space is not a contingent property of the object, it is the means by which I recognise the object and by which I am conscious of it as of an object.Footnote 72
So once we take it that a capacity for recognition is one of proper functions of a perceptual system, it is not surprising that the conditions under which this function is best fulfilled with respect to objects of some type become favoured as the ‘optimum’ conditions for perceiving objects of that type. Thus in this case the normativity of perception is implicit in the functional characterisation of perceptual systems which an evolutionary approach would lead one to expect. So this is a clear case in which normativity does not preclude a naturalistic explanation.
But perhaps there are other aspects of perception where an argument of this kind works better. One can suggest, for example, that the relationship between an object's perceptible properties (shape, size, colour etc.) and its potential perceptual profiles is normative: in seeing the black table lamp on my desk in front of me as such I see it as something which should present certain different, but appropriate shapes, sizes, colours etc., when viewed from a range of different positions.Footnote 73 So far as I am aware, Merleau-Ponty does not seek to make his case in quite this way, but his emphasis on the way in which perception finds meaning in what is perceived is perhaps close to this line of thought since meaning and normativity can be closely connected. But rather as in the previous case, more needs to be said to show that the normativity here cannot be accommodated within a naturalistic scientific account of perception. My expectations about how a lamp would appear when viewed from different positions are dispositions acquired over the course of life, and my astonishment if they were not fulfilled in a particular case, is not a matter of normative disappointment, of things not appearing as they should appear, but surprise at my being misled about the visual appearance of something as familiar as a table lamp.
A different line of thought starts from Merleau-Ponty's thesis that perception is ‘originary knowledge’.Footnote 74 For if perception is knowledge of this kind, does this not show that perception provides justifications for belief and action which imply that it is inherently normative? One part of the response to this will be an externalist account of justification in terms of reliability: it is the fact that perception is normally a reliable source of evidence concerning the things that are readily perceived which warrants taking it to be a source of knowledge about such things. But the key point here is the distinction between perception as a source of knowledge, albeit a fundamental or ‘originary’, one, and the claim that perception is itself knowledge with the intrinsic normative status this brings. This distinction is not normally important to us; but in this context it is worth drawing since it separates perception as a normally reliable natural way of obtaining evidence about the world from the normative status of knowledge conferred upon this evidence by our normal epistemic practices. Once this distinction is drawn, between perception itself and the epistemic status of the evidence thereby obtained, it is not arbitrary to hold that while our epistemic practices are inherently normative, perception itself is not.
So far I have argued that the appeals to normativity which one can extract, more or less directly, from Merleau-Ponty's discussions of perception do not provide a strong case for holding that there cannot be a satisfactory naturalistic scientific account of perception. But there is a different point which seems to me more substantial, though it brings in many complex and disputable issues. At an early stage of his discussion Merleau-Ponty remarks, concerning a putative scientific account of perception:
Empiricism, by once again defining what we perceive through the physical and chemical properties of the stimuli able to act upon our sense organs, excludes from perception the anger or the sadness that I nevertheless read on someone's face, the religion whose essence I nevertheless grasp in a hesitation or a reticence, the city whose structure I nevertheless know in the attitude of a city officer or in the style of a monument.Footnote 75
There is a serious point here. If a scientific account of perception were supposed to include a reductive programme according to which contents of perception such as ‘the religion whose essence I nevertheless grasp in a hesitation or a reticence, the city whose structure I nevertheless know in the attitude of a city officer or in the style of a monument’ are to be accounted for just by reference to the physical and chemical properties of the stimuli, the position would not be credible. Our understanding of the world, with all its thick historical, personal and cultural references, cannot possibly be captured in a reductive account of this kind. I have in fact already set aside the claim that a reductive programme of this kind is required, since natural science does not rule out an emergentist account of perception. But this point does not altogether defuse the issue raised here. For once one accepts (as I do) that cultural institutions (such as religion, political institutions and architectural style) are not amenable to scientific explanations of the kind provided by the natural sciences because of the role of historically specific traditions, evaluations and practices, it follows that perceptions whose content draws on an understanding of these institutions (as in Merleau-Ponty's examples here) cannot be fully accounted for by reference to the natural sciences.
So we do find here a substantive challenge to the possibility of a complete scientific understanding of perception. But what is also apparent is that this is an issue which is not clearly addressed by Merleau-Ponty in Phenomenology of Perception. The arguments for the thesis that the understanding of cultural institutions is of a different kind from that provided by the natural sciences were developed by the neo-Kantian philosophers, most notably Wilhelm Windelband and Heinrich Rickert, and concern the understanding of historical traditions rather than the phenomenology of perception. Heidegger then combines phenomenological investigations with hermeneutic arguments of this kind; but in this respect Heidegger's work is unique, and is not echoed by Merleau-Ponty. Instead, following Husserl's late writings, Merleau-Ponty concentrates on the thesis of a fundamental ante-predicative operative intentionality that is characteristic of bodily perception, and which he explicitly contrasts with the kind of intentionality that is characteristic of reflective thought and language and which is central to cultural traditions. I have argued that Merleau-Ponty's reasons for holding that our capacity for unreflective bodily perception transcends the limits of natural science are unconvincing. That conclusion is consistent with a recognition that perceptions whose content is informed by cultural traditions transcend natural science, since the intentionality involved here is culturally specific. So there is here a limit to the understanding of perception which natural science can provide. But this limitation does not arise purely from the perceptual process; instead it depends upon the fact that human perception is often informed by culture, which is fundamentally a matter of historical traditions, not scientific laws.
