Julian Findlay

Professor Lewis and I have some important differences of opinion regarding the identity and distinctness of conscious persons, which it will be well to try to clarify on the present occasion, first of all by enumerating a number of points on which we are, I think, in agreement. Both of us believe in the existence of individual persons, each of whom can be said to live in a ‘world’ of his own intentional objectivity, a world ‘as it is for him’, which differs in a considerable extent, both in content and emphasis, from the world as it is for anyone else. Both of us further believe that all these intentionally objective worlds for a large part coincide in content, and are in fact excerpted from a more comprehensive real world which is common to us all, and which, in addition to in some sense including all such intentionally objective worlds, also includes many real material objects which exist regardless of our intentionality, and which further includes our own material bodies, which appear in so central a manner in each of our intentionally objective worlds. Both of us believe in matter as a transcendent reality, as well as an intentional object, and are content to accept the dicta of science as to the most probable view of its structure. We are in fact quite Cartesian and Lockean in our belief in the primary and secondary qualities of matter. We believe further that our intentional subjectivity is geared causally into our material objectivity, and that the gearing takes place, in some inscrutable manner, in our nervous systems. We both also believe that our intentional subjectivity transcends bodily mechanisms and instrumentalities, and can be liberated from the latter, but that, when thus liberated, our subjectivity may still affect some sort of an intentionally objective material body such as we wear in dreams, a body in which it will manifest itself to itself and to others much as we do in our dreams and fantasies.

The present article is an attempt to set forth and examine the conclusions of what is perhaps Husserl’s finest piece of philosophical investigation, and one of the finest pieces in the whole history of philosophy: the investigation of the consciousness of time, with its extraordinary combination of an unchanging form with an absolute flux of which it is none other than the very form itself. This investigation puts Husserl on a level with the wisest heads on the matter, with Aristotle in Books IV and VI of the Physics, with Augustine in Book X of the Confessions, and with Kant, whose whole Critique of Pure Reason may be said to be an examination of what is necessary to temporal experience. In Husserl’s work we have, we may say, the greatest of recent philosophers tackling the greatest of philosophical problems, one in which contradiction is always appearing in novel forms, to be evaded only by the naïve superficiality of a Minkowski or a Grünbaum, or by such infinitely useful subtlety as Husserl himself practises. As Husserl himself put it near the beginning of his 1905 Lectures