Obelisk, this goes for other thinkers too—one of those recurring subthemes under "philosophy & everything else"—is definitely the intersection of philosophy and science, or perhaps more accurately, vice versa. It seems like everyone loves to drone on about how science is just applied philosophy, but we rarely hear much about the role of philosophy within science itself? I think you’re probably aware that Heisenberg was quite fond of reading Platonic philosophy; he actually noted that Platonic thought was instrumental in shaping his scientific work regarding new physical insights and theories. It’s pretty clear that Heisenberg was weaving philosophical insights directly into his science, which is arguably why he earned that reputation as a scientific genius. In his book *physics and metaphysics*, he gives an excellent account of how philosophy influences the science that he, Bohr, and Pauli later developed into Nobel Prize-winning territory. He claims it was all basically settled while they were still in their twenties—just sailing around, philosophizing, and sipping whiskey. Unlike Heisenberg, Bohr turned toward Eastern philosophy, finding, as he put it, the precursor to the theory of complementarity and much of the development of quantum theory. Then there’s Pauli, a scientist who was among the first to explicitly state that intuitive science is far more fruitful than purely measurement-based, quantitative science. You can see this reflected in the fact that nobody cites Aristotle as the catalyst for modern physical science—even though he was essentially a philosopher-physicist—instead, people point to philosophers of idealistic origins or even the philosophy of the East. (Capra: *The Tao of Physics*). So, it’s important to note that these scientists don't view philosophy as something separate from science; they treat it as a component of the very science they are uncovering and expanding. In contrast to these "fruitful" scientists, you have the "hard" types who insist on squeezing everything into exact values and ratios. A classic example would be Oppenheimer and Teller—the former building the atomic bomb, the latter the hydrogen bomb. I bring up this parallel because there was once that sensational news report claiming Heisenberg had discovered a "world formula," which he immediately dismissed as nothing more than "journalistic fake news." After that, the comments started pouring in, mostly serving as answers to the question: Can man ever find a world formula? One of the early commentators was none other than Oppenheimer, who categorically argued that humanity would never find such a thing, using the waves of the Pacific Ocean to illustrate his point. He argued that the ocean has so many different waves, constantly shifting, that there isn't a single mind capable of condensing all those oceanic waves into one solitary formula. So, Oppenheimer expressed an extremely hard-line, pessimistic view regarding the possibility—or impossibility—of discovering a world formula. If we take this hypothetical formula as "that which encompasses the whole" and ask ourselves: would such a formula, by its very nature, simultaneously function as a philosophy of the whole? Yes, it would—but according to a scientist of Oppenheimer's caliber, that is an impossibility, a sentiment shared by many philosophers as well. I wonder, though: is Oppenheimer actually right?
Luckily, another physicist (I can't recall his name) stepped up and argued the exact opposite of Oppenheimer, using a field of colorful wildflowers to illustrate his perspective. This physicist basically said: when we stand in a field of bright flowers, it feels like the human mind could never express that abundance of colors and shades with a single formula. That was his version of Oppenheimer’s ocean waves. However, he pointed out that white is the color that actually encompasses and contains all possible colors within itself. To arrive at that one all-encompassing color, you simply need to add all the colors and shades together: the sum of all colors and their nuances, no matter how many there are in any given field, equals white!! There is your world formula! And there is your philosophy that embraces the whole! But wait, there's more. Another physicist named Teplov comes along and says something quite simple: if -1 and +1 imply Zero, then Zero implies both -1 and +1. According to him, that is the world formula and the cosmic formula, valid for all time, all space, and all phenomena in the universe. Of course, this isn't what you'd call philosophical nihilism; because for Teplov, Zero isn't "nothingness" or a void—it is a "full" Zero that holds both -1 and +1 within itself. In Indian philosophy, this concept of a full Zero is known as Sunyata.
Looking at what’s been laid out, it seems perfectly possible to establish a philosophy of wholeness—provided we actually have the mental bandwidth to tackle absolute ideas and the world formula, or perhaps a philosophy that treats "the whole" as its primary driver. It reminds me of when the CEO of General Motors once remarked that they could build just about anything the US government asked for, so long as the budget was there. Why couldn't philosophy take a similar stance? Could it not say: "We can answer any question, provided all the world's knowledge is gathered in one place"? That intersection—that single point—is where the philosophy of wholeness, or absolute philosophy, resides. But we have to avoid the pitfalls of an Oppenheimer-style mistake here—the idea that it's impossible to aggregate all global knowledge. Instead, we should approach it by aggregating "colors"—not by collecting fragments, but by synthesizing existing bodies of knowledge. The catch? Aggregating colors, waves, or data sets is actually quite simple—but philosophy, thanks to that old-school German academic tradition, has a notorious allergy to simplicity. There’s this obsession with making things as dense, convoluted, and impenetrable as possible—sort of like those Hegelian philosophical hieroglyphs people love to talk about.
So, my question is this: Can philosophy begin to rebuild and evolve in the same way science does—by actually utilizing science? Specifically, can philosophy start incorporating scientific findings directly into its thought processes, given that science itself is largely built upon a philosophical foundation? If the answer is yes, then let’s start drafting a philosophy that is actually infused with scientific reality. If not, well, let’s just stay right where we are, treading water until some new genius teacher arrives—though I fear they never will. Change is moving on an exponential curve now, and trying to chase exponential shifts through traditional methods just doesn't make any sense.
I firmly believe that a philosopher needs to be conversant in scientific discovery, just as a scientist needs to understand the reaches of philosophy. Without that harmony, you get polarization—which, if history is any guide, tends to get dangerous. We see the evidence of that even today. That’s why I’m suggesting this subtopic: to encourage philosophers to move toward absolute cognition—or at least get close enough to touch it. Maybe even via magnetism, since it's a mathematical certainty: the sum of all magnetic forces ( points ) in a magnetic field, relative to any given force ( point ) within that field, equals zero. That is a fundamental Truth—and it’s simultaneously scientific and philosophical. Or rather, it is both. The only real question left is: what are we going to do with it?
We’re stepping into a whole new era—what Kurzweil calls the singularity. If his math holds up, we’ll hit this singularity by 2050. It’s basically the moment where human intelligence and machine intelligence fuse together, creating something far greater than either could manage alone. This is the ultimate pivot point in the EVOLUTION OF OUR PLANET AND HUMANITY. It’s that specific moment when human civilization becomes a single, unified entity. Honestly, if you look at it as part of our evolutionary destiny, it makes sense—intelligence just keeps growing exponentially toward what we are meant to become. Our reality and our future are driven by this rule of exponential evolution. Think about it: our brains process info using electrochemical methods that are, frankly, hundreds of millions of times slower than electronic ones. Right now, chips are flat and dense, but within twenty or twenty-five years, they’ll likely move to a three-dimensional model similar to biological structures. Those kinds of chips would finally let us fully grasp how the brain actually functions. And since our understanding of neuroscience is also growing exponentially, a collision between computers and the human brain seems inevitable. What happens next? Who knows—we can only guess—but one thing is certain: it’s going to unlock creative possibilities we can’t even fathom. If this trend holds, we’ll reach a tipping point so sudden it’ll shatter our perception of history, philosophy, science, and humanism alike. That’s the SINGULARITY—though people define it in all sorts of ways. In physics, it’s that point of infinite energy density at the start of the universe. Just as the breakdown of a physical singularity creates space-time and the structure of the cosmos, a rapid technological breakthrough will lead to a singularity that essentially breaks the continuity of history. So, isn't it vital to figure out what this singularity means for society, for humanism, and for philosophy?
Humans have this ability to take rational insights and turn them into logical thought, building abstractions and mental models of the world so we can actually manipulate it. In technology, every leap forward creates an even more powerful tool for the next stage. You see the exact same thing in biological evolution—each new level is smarter and stronger than the last. In a way, Homo sapiens is defined by the very technology it builds.
Down the road, it’ll become clear that humans are essentially steering their own evolutionary process—which is really just our cultural and technological evolution. Ultimately, we might find that we are our own creators. We are undeniably scaling our brainpower to match the needs of our civilization through the sheer force of our tech.
If this is all true—and it feels like it is—then we’re really just standing in the foyer of a room we haven't even entered yet. Based on patterns we see here in the US, this is definitely something different from Manson's Limeka and his nonsense. The real question is: are we actually capable of handling the power we’ve built? Can we be responsible for the implications of such massive capability? Of course, there are always at least two contradictory paths we could take. Which one we choose depends on all of us—and maybe, strangely enough, it might fall on the shoulders of philosophers.
I'm with you on most of this, especially the second half, but why the pessimism? Why do you say:
"It's unlikely that science or philosophy will ever solve all the questions and reach a universal truth, at least not as things stand now. That's why I say the real question for philosophers is whether a philosophy will ever exist that can solve everything..."
But we don't need to solve *everything*. We just need to solve enough so that a cucumber can stay a cucumber, or a spider can stay a spider... I mean, all the animals and plants in the world manage to "solve" the problem of being what they are. If they can do it, why can't we—the supposedly "smartest animal"—figure out how to simply be human? Personally, I’m an optimist. Once we stop being blinded by linear thinking—which is probably the biggest mental pollutant in the world—things are going to shift entirely. That’s the whole reason I hang around this forum!
It would be pretty great if we could just strip everything back to the core—that one fundamental philosophical question—and actually focus our energy there, assuming we can even find an answer. Are we truly capable of outsmarting guys like Plato or Aristotle, or are those two just our eternal intellectual overlords? Personally, I don't think they're our destiny. I think we could actually surpass them—but only if we manage to fuse their insights into our own modern era rather than just stuck in theirs. If we did that, the result should be a totally new kind of philosophical insight and creation. Honestly, without bringing the concept of creation into the mix, I’m afraid philosophy is just going to stay stuck in some sort of mental coma.
Asterix, I’m totally with you on everything you’ve written regarding science and philosophy—it’s historically the only way to look at it. That said, I keep circling back to these two Italian philosophers—I think they were Deleuze and Guattari, if I recall correctly (I might have brought them up before)—who argued that philosophy basically lost its grip on Phil and Sphi because it stopped being "productive" in the same way science is. Their whole point was that if philosophy wants to regain its dignity, it has to become just as productive as the sciences. That idea really stuck with me—this nagging question: is it true that philosophical insight can never actually be discovered or proven using scientific methodology? I’ve spent a long time chewing on this, exploring it through what I call my own little niche of "hobby philosophy"—specifically within the realm of the evolution of the human mind... or maybe the evolution of the human spirit? It’s a bit hard to pin down. Anyway, my personal area of focus is somewhat analogous to archaeology or paleontology. Does the evolutionary logic used in archaeology and tech advancement hold up when applied to spiritual evolution? Is there a shared "logos" there? In digging through these questions, I’ve actually landed on a conviction: that philosophical insight *can* be uncovered and validated through scientific methods. If you’re curious about the specifics of how I reached that conclusion, shoot me a DM—either yours or a friend's if you want to stay under the radar—and I’ll send over a CD that lays out the whole thing in detail. I’d genuinely love to hear your thoughts or any critiques you might have.
I’m with you on that whole bit about the "fragmentation of philosophy" and how it ties into everything happening today—it's a mess. But honestly, why on earth are we sitting around waiting for some new philosophical wunderkind to drop out of the sky? We’ve got at least 10,000 years of deep thinking just sitting there on the shelf. I mean, look at the sheer volume of wisdom already etched into history—from the texts of China and India to the legacies of Alexandria, Athens, Berlin, and even Indianapolis. Isn't the "Great Philosophy" already written? Maybe it was penned by some nameless guy in a field, maybe it was captured by an artist like Escher, or maybe it was written by you, me, or just some random neighbor down the street. Perhaps the truth is being written by every single life lived, every second passing by... it's just that we've all become somewhat blind, constantly staring over the fence at someone else's yard. We obsess over their business, thinking it's fundamentally different from our own, when in reality, it's basically the same scenery. I remember writing somewhere once that you don't need a PhD to find meaning; you just need to lean down and pick up a four-leaf clover—the classic symbol of luck—and there you have it: pure, unadulterated philosophy.
So, regarding globalization—I actually put together an article titled "The Global Brain: Superbrain, Reality or Fiction?" I’ve submitted it for the MH symposium, so now we just wait and see if they actually accept it or whatever. It’s about something that feels like it's becoming a tangible reality—this idea of absolute service for all human knowledge and philosophy. We already have over 3 billion websites out there, which some experts claim is evolving into a true World Wide Brain. Here’s a little excerpt that touches on the whole thing:
Back in 1980, Philip Emeagwali—the mathematician and computer scientist—put forward this idea about a hyper-spherical international network of computers, basically treating it like some kind of geometric topological structure. It was during this time that he actually coined the term "global SUPERBRAIN." Just an interesting bit of history to chew on, I guess? In his essays, he spent quite a bit of time diving into the spiritual, philosophical, and social fallout that comes with the evolution of the World Wide Web into what he calls the World Wide Brain (WWB). We’re looking at a two-stage progression here—in the second phase of the 21st century, the Internet won't just be a tool anymore; it will have morphed into a massive, parallel hyper-dimensional computer—essentially a global SUPERBRAIN. Then comes the third phase, where this SUPERBRAIN takes on the qualities of a bio-digital brain, a sort of interface where human thoughts could actually be uploaded directly into the WWB. It leads to a pretty wild conclusion: Philip Emeagwali argues that this is how we finally achieve psychological immortality. Just imagine that—human consciousness, effectively decoupled from the biological clock through a digital loop. Is that transcendence or just the ultimate hardware upgrade? Hard to say. The computers we’re looking at today? They aren't just tools—they're becoming absolute. We’re talking about these massive, high-performance supercomputers all wired together, hooking into a vast web of smaller machines to form this giant, structural, global network. It’s already happening with everything currently plugged into the World Wide Web... but where does that lead? Is it just a bunch of hardware, or are we actually watching the evolution of an intelligent superorganism? Or maybe something else entirely? The "brain of brains"—that thing Philip Emeagwali calls the global SUPERBRAIN.
What do you think about a title like this: WWB AND PHILOSOPHY?
I’m right there with you on this—just look at the absolute mess we’re dealing with today. It’s wild how much "nonsense" has spiraled out of control because everyone decided to stop respecting the old-school philosophical heavyweights. We traded actual depth for this massive, bloated ego-trip of a culture, and honestly? It’s just one big, self-absorbed disaster. Who knew that ignoring the foundations would lead us to such a chaotic, narcissistic swamp?
Think about Conceptualism—you know, that era when Piero Manzoni decided to pack his own waste into a tin can, label it "100% Pure Artistic Shit," and sell it off. Then you’ve got this eclectic postmodernism, which I’d argue is one of the biggest hits against actual philosophy. It’s all just a mashup: listening to reggae, watching Westerns, grabbing a Big Mac, or wearing French perfume while walking through Tokyo. Knowledge becomes nothing more than a tool to win a game show like *Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?* Everything loses its aesthetic compass; the only metric left that actually matters is the dollar sign. It leads to those endless platitudes like "whatever an artist spits out is art," plus a whole host of other vague "-isms" where nobody can tell who's footing the bill and who's doing the eating.
But hey, that’s just one side of the coin. There’s another perspective entirely, one built on the necessity of redefining what it means to be human. On that side, the argument goes like this—and I’m just putting this in my own words here: we have to stop viewing humanity as some random accident of nature, but at the same time, we need to stop treating humans as some weak, subservient byproduct of God. We’ve evolved past being that "little kid in a barn" archetype; over time, the human has transformed into a terrestrial and cosmic monster. In that light, the text says this:
Tufir ii, you write well—clearly you’ve done your homework—but why on earth do you insist on staying trapped within such a narrow frame? You should try stepping outside for a second. Go take a look at an Escher graphic arts gallery, both in the literal sense and the broader one, and once you've had a look, ask yourself this: are Escher's works just prints, some clever visual trickery, or is it actually drawn philosophy? If you happen to discover it’s the latter, your entire intellectual framework would suddenly gain enough depth and height to let you speak much more powerfully about the relationship between science and philosophy. Because, honestly, no matter how hard we try, there’s no valid answer without the fourth dimension—something physicists have already uncovered and artists have clearly grasped, yet philosophers seem to be lagging behind on. Why is that? Is there some reason philosophers are "allergic" to the fourth dimension? What do they actually know about the fourth dimension in the context of a whole? That’s the real question for me—though maybe it isn't for you or Atlantic? And surely that shouldn't be a reason for our perspectives to be "mutually ridiculous," right? What’s your take?
2.DIO Look, you have to see that the natural sciences basically operate in two directions—one heading toward micro-phenomena and the other toward macro ones. This is exactly where the whole scientific narrative starts to fracture, isn't it? We’re left with this legacy from last century's science where the laws governing the macro world just don't apply to the micro world, and vice versa. But is that actually true? Is there a single, universal law that holds steady for both the tiny stuff and the massive stuff? To me, that feels like a heavyweight philosophical question—a genuine task for anyone trying to bridge the gap using actual scientific data. Since micro-science and macro-science have drifted so far apart, they've essentially lost the ability to use their own frameworks to solve the problems of the other side. They're speaking different languages at this point. So, someone has to step in as a "third party"—someone like a philosopher who can hunt for a unifying solution. Honestly, if that isn't the primary job of modern philosophy, I don't know what is. But then you have this entirely different beast altogether—the field of applied sciences. It’s the one actually running the show these days, isn't it? It’s got all the power, it’s the thing cranking out the tech, manipulating the world, and basically deciding what our collective fate looks like. Honestly, wouldn't it be nice to actually read a "philosophy of applied science" for once? I’d love to find an author brave enough to tackle that without first having written a massive treatise on the "philosophy of killing machines." The thing is, it’s the applied side of things that really mythologizes science, not the pure natural sciences. I mean, when you look at the macro scale of the world we live in, the products coming out of applied science are lightyears beyond anything the theorists are doing in their labs. In that sense, it’s clearly the dominant force—yet philosophy seems to have no clue about it. Or perhaps worse, philosophy hasn't even begun to grasp where this whole trajectory is actually taking us? Now we’re getting to the part of your text that actually matters—the good stuff: So, what actually counts as the philosophy of biology? You won’t find a straight answer anywhere—not even in those textbooks that go out of their way to promise exactly that in the title. It’s all a bit of a mess. Even guys like Dawkins, Ford, or Kuhn don't offer a concrete definition, mostly because the lines between pure biology and ethics get blurred so often that you just end up with this hybrid concept called bioethics instead. Is there even a distinct field left, or is it all just one big overlap? Who knows.
So, why am I even typing this out—and what’s my actual point here? Honestly, I just want to say that philosophy needs to reclaim its seat at the head of the table. It ought to be back at the top of the hierarchy, acting as the foundational discipline—that core starting point from which every other field of study is forced to branch out. We really shouldn't be letting this antagonism between scientists and philosophers brew—it’s completely counterproductive. You always hear the critics, right? They claim philosophers are just spinning their wheels or talking in circles—just pure fluff—while the scientist has a concrete, measurable objective. They’re in the lab doing the actual work, producing tangible, physical results that you can actually hold in your hand. But does that mean they should be at odds? Not necessarily.
Scientists often seem to forget that you can't actually have science without philosophy—it’s like trying to build a house without a blueprint, or maybe just trying to drive a car without a steering wheel? I don't know. It feels like they get so caught up in the data and the formulas that they lose sight of the actual framework holding it all together. Is it really possible to claim progress if you aren't questioning the very foundations of how you're measuring that progress? Probably not. Why is this the most interesting topic? Well, I suppose it's because I’m "in love" with the philosophy of biology—and unlike Dawkins, Ford, Kuhn, or anyone else for that matter, I actually have a definition for it. Or rather, I’m convinced I do. My take? I have a definition of philosophy rooted in the logos of both micro and macro biology. Of course, I’d eventually need to demonstrate, explain, and prove all that—which isn't exactly feasible in a space like this—but that doesn't mean it can't be done later if someone actually cares to see it. Regarding your point that philosophy needs to reclaim its primacy over all other sciences—I’d probably rephrase that a bit differently. Personally, I think philosophers urgently need to restore some dignity to the field by purging everything from their "philosophical body" that relies on that outdated, linear, three-dimensional Cartesian way of looking at the world. It’s just... it's stuck in the past. Instead of clinging to that obsolete framework, we really need to develop an entirely NEW philosophy—one grounded in non-linear, wave-based, quantum, and organic perceptions of reality. Only then can philosophy actually move in lockstep with modern science. That old-school, purely quantitative, scientifically materialistic approach died out along with mechanical physics—a fact our scientists (and, frankly, many philosophers) seem to have overlooked. This NEW MODERN PHILOSOPHY needs to address the origins of the universe and life on Earth, just as science does. And it has to be a "philosophy of origins"—not just some derivative school of thought named after one guy or another. I find myself agreeing with Jaspers on this: there are as many philosophies as there are philosophers, but most of them aren't true philosophies—they're just various attempts at philosophizing. I’m totally on board with the idea that scientists often forget that science can't actually exist without philosophy... and honestly, that's a problem. To go a step further: it’s dangerous—really, truly dangerous. It provides us with a perfect subject for some deep philosophical digging, mostly because when we talk about things being "dangerous," we aren't just talking about a lab error; we're talking about the big picture—you know, the whole mess we call life on Earth and humanity itself.
Asterix, that was an excellent response and some great commentary. Here’s my take on part two: PART 1 I’m following the thread of your suggestion (let's think about this): I’m not entirely convinced that philosophy serves as the foundation upon which the roof of science rests—nor am I sure that one holds any inherent superiority over the other, whether we're talking about philosophy or science. To me, they feel more like complementary ways of mind—two different lenses used to investigate the exact same thing. Ultimately, philosophy and science intersect and merge within phenomenology when addressing those big-picture questions: Where did we come from, where are we going, and why? What is the universe, what is its logical structure, how far does it stretch? What is life, why does it exist, and why is it specifically the kind of life we find here on Earth? Who is man, and why? And finally, why do we need science and where does it lead us? Why do we need philosophy and where does it lead us? What defines science versus what defines philosophy? Seeking and finding answers to these questions simultaneously is both science and philosophy. So, I see philosophy as the intellect that perceives the whole—it understands the matrix of existence, rather than just the transient, ever-changing parts—and ultimately, it grasps the UNIVERSAL, the all-encompassing *logos*, the matrix stretching from the vast cosmos down to a single hydrogen atom, or perhaps to Plato’s cell. In contrast, science is the intellect that structurally—that is, individually—uncovers and learns the same things as philosophy. Or, to be more precise: philosophy deals with macro-phenomena, while science deals with micro-phenomena. These two modes of thought are interactive and complementary, and when they actually meet, they become incredibly productive—at least, that’s my take! In the previous post, there was talk of philosophy being the study of the whole and science being the study of the individual. I agreed with that, but I forgot to mention that philosophy has become just as fragmented and scattered as science has, specifically through these "philosophies of the individual." I tend to say that after the era of German ideology, philosophy splintered—it became "cellularized" into countless little philosophies that have absolutely nothing to do with actual philosophy! In this light, I don't believe in a "philosophy of science"—like a specific philosophy of physics, chemistry, or biology—but rather, there can only be a philosophy that absorbs and integrates scientific insights into the broader philosophical framework. For instance, one such scientific insight that is deeply and absolutely philosophical is the discovery of the structure and *logos* of the DNA molecule. Why that realization is purely philosophical is something I can explain later. Let’s consider the view that "the philosophy of science (the science of science) is largely synonymous with the metaphysical discipline of epistemology. We know what epistemology handles, so let's just apply that to the science of science. It examines the principles of scientific inquiry, the paths of scientific knowledge, the verification of hypotheses, theories, and the very problem of how science "grows"... " Every attempt I’ve made to answer the question "What is science?" has failed. On the contrary, I’ve just found a series of perspectives suggesting that nobody actually knows what science is—not even the scientists or the philosophers!? It’s the same story with philosophy. There simply isn't a clear answer or a definitive definition for either! Opinions and interpretations are controversial, and it’s not rare for them to spiral into pure absurdity... It seems to me that all these doubts and controversies are addressed by your sentence, which essentially says: "Physics had a massive influence on the development of the philosophy of science in the 20th century, especially with the emergence of quantum theory and relativity; subsequently, its growth was fueled by breakthroughs in psychology, then sociology, and from roughly the mid-20th century, the rapid advancement of molecular biology, evolutionary biology, and genetics." So, I completely agree with you, but that’s not the end of it. You also have fractal theory, holistic theory, the rise of computer science, nanotechnology, and the sudden breakthrough into both the micro and macro worlds with converging insights. Only once we recognize the reach of intelligence within these various modern "packages" of knowledge can we trigger a NEW philosophy—one capable of tackling old and new philosophical questions using today's level of intellect, rather than relying on the levels of Socrates, Kant, Hegel, Marx, or that foolish Feuerbach. The same applies to science! The intellect of someone like Copernicus or Newton would be a scientific anachronism today. A good example of where we currently stand is this: some newly minted scientist, trying to inflate his own academic status, wrote that Newton spent twenty grueling years thinking just to discover the laws of gravity. I told him, if that’s true, then Newton was pretty dim-witted if it took him twenty years just to figure out gravity!!? The truth is quite different. Newton discovered gravity thanks to an apple falling on his head—basically in a moment of hype, not through deep, agonizing contemplation—but it *did* take him twenty years to formulate the mathematical logic and rules necessary to express the law of gravity through formulas. (The level of mathematical development in his era simply didn't allow for anything faster!)
Regarding your point about how the philosophy of science examines the mechanics and scope of scientific inquiry, while the philosophy of nature turns its gaze toward the actual subject matter—which is Nature itself—I’d love to expand on that: What exactly constitutes the focus of the natural sciences today? Back in the day—and honestly, I still find it incredible—there were those foundational biologists who spent their lives discovering, cataloging, sketching, and organizing life on Earth—you know, the whole flora and fauna thing. It was massive work, and frankly, some of it is still happening right now. Then you have the geographers who meticulously mapped out the world in granular detail... and don't even get me started on the biologists and medical researchers today. They aren't just looking at anatomy anymore; they’re pulling back the curtain on life at a nearly transparent level—moving past organs and systems down to cells, proteins, nucleotides, atoms, and even subatomic structures. Just another absolutely gargantuan undertaking, really.
What you’ve laid out could be described as a classic take on the interplay between science and philosophy—that back-and-forth dance between the two. I'll weigh in on your perspective and toss in a few of my own thoughts: You’re arguing that philosophy is all-encompassing—dealing with the Whole—while sciences focus on tiny fragments, or specific aspects, of that whole. Because of this, philosophy tackles those "impossible" questions—since the Whole remains rationally out of reach for us—and tries to untangle problems that seem unsolvable. I'm with you on the idea that philosophy deals with the Whole—though we’ve touched on this before, haven't we? We just haven't quite nailed down what anyone actually means when they use the word "whole." I agree that science deals with aspects of the whole, but wouldn't we also need to define what these "aspects" actually are, and what exactly is this "Whole" that they relate to in the first place? My own view is based on the fact that, these days, science is just as much about the Whole as philosophy is. I mean, look at it—science is tackling the origins of the universe, the totality of the cosmos, searching for a unified field theory, looking at the holistic relationship between matter and energy, the nature of life itself, and so on and so forth. There are endless examples, including the holographic universe theory, which is pretty relevant right now. So, why shouldn't philosophers step in here to explain what’s actually going on? Besides, I’ve said it before: more and more scientists are turning toward philosophy. I’m constantly thinking of Hofstadter and his book >, not to mention David Bohm with his holistic model of the universe, or even old Werner Heisenberg, among many others. From where I’m sitting, it looks like scientists feel they have permission to dabble in philosophy, while philosophers aren't even allowed to touch science!? It seems like a bit of a strange setup, doesn't it?
I think there’s another massive issue lurking within the very concept of "science." None of the standard definitions really answer the fundamental question: what *is* science? You get one group saying this, another group saying that, and there’s a huge gap between the concept of "natural science"—discovering natural phenomena and laws—and the concept of "applied science." Both types of researchers get tossed into the same "scientist" bucket, even though they are worlds apart. What I mean is, science isn't just some pile of raw facts accumulating over time, as you put it. Today, we have parts of science that are creative or generative, producing things that fall outside the boundaries of both traditional philosophy and traditional science. I’m thinking specifically about how non-linear perception might actually be superior to linear perception, or how four-dimensional perception holds more weight than three-dimensional views—yet our entire philosophical and scientific tradition is rooted in a three-dimensional Euclidean way of seeing things. I wonder how many American or global philosophers are actually exploring the Whole from a four-dimensional or quad-polar standpoint, rather than sticking to this dualistic, binary mindset? It feels like a major built-in error in both philosophy and science alike!
In my opinion, trying to divorce science from philosophy—or vice versa—doesn't lead anywhere useful. It just ends up making everyone dumber, especially the vast majority of people who don't consider themselves either scientists or philosophers. From what I can see, there is one specific area that everyone seems to ignore—including the supposedly "smart" people, the scientists, and the philosophers alike—and that is MAGNETISM. Everyone misses the mark on this phenomenon because: (quoting the original here)
Despite our adventures into space, our superb transition from classical physics to relativistic physics, combined with a century of technological advancement of unsurpassed measure, and an uncanny understanding of the Cosmos as never before known, there seems to be one remaining enigma to science: the mysterious force-at-a-distance, called magnetism.
Nobody knows why the polarity of the Earth's magnetic field changes. Right now, though, it's something of a mystery.
Magnetism simply means power and information (energy) that runs from one pole to another. The universe, life forms and all of creation are built upon this principle of positive (plus) and negative (minus) poles.
So, you see, there's this massive, universal phenomenon out there that touches everything and everyone—it encompasses the whole thing—yet somehow, neither the scientists nor the philosophers seem to actually grasp what magnetism is. Where would you even place that? Is it strictly a scientific domain? Purely philosophical? Or is it perhaps both—a blend of the two? My take—and this is just my opinion—is that magnetism belongs to the totality itself. Because of that, it falls under philosophy. But then again, it's also a physical phenomenon, which means it belongs to the natural sciences and applied sciences too. So, really, it sits right at the intersection of philosophy and science... or science and philosophy. It's both.
Since we seem to agree that philosophy is fundamentally about the whole—and that some thinkers have basically wrecked the field by rebranding anything they ponder as mere pragmatic "praxis"—I think we’re on the same page. In my view, that shift did massive damage. It turned philosophy into little more than apology, a messy catch-all, or just a repetitive loop of things we already know. It feels like philosophy drifted into this disorganized sprawl because it’s frankly much easier for certain philosophers to talk *about* the "philosophy of science" than to actually apply scientific insights to philosophical discourse. From where I'm sitting, you see this all the time: scientists acting like philosophers whenever they touch on universal themes, origins, or the totality of the universe. Conversely, you have philosophers trying to shoehorn scientific findings into their theses, only to have those ideas vanish into a "black hole" once they hit the wall of scientific relativity and uncertainty. But then, there are cases where a single scientific discovery is simultaneously a philosophical one. Here’s an example that illustrates how science and philosophy can merge, specifically regarding the essence of a human being—or any living thing on Earth or in the cosmos Biologist Koretz believes that DNA technology has essentially opened a "Pandora's box," releasing influences that touch every facet of human existence. The red line of this revolutionary breakthrough is that humanity has instantly shifted from being an object of creation to becoming its subject. Through this discovery and its application, humans have directly inserted themselves into the work of God—whether anyone wants to admit it or not. The implications of this scientific leap call the entire Western philosophical and humanistic tradition into question, especially the idea that humans are merely derivatives of material nature or, alternatively, some weak, frail derivative of God. And it isn't just about our ability to manipulate micro and macro biology; you also have nanotechnology miniaturizing the physical world at an incredible scale. Based on that, I have to ask: Is the *logos* of the DNA molecule the same as the *logos* of philosophy? That *logos* represents the totality, while simultaneously accounting for every individual level and fragment within that whole. Isn't that effectively "philosophy and the other"—what we typically categorize as "the other," namely science and religion?
So, what exactly is this "positivism" everyone keeps bringing up? In the context of how people use it here—referring to some supposed positivism within modern science or contemporary philosophy—it simply doesn't exist. Positivism is a sterile, empty concept. It’s just as useless as the old idea of "dialectical materialism"—just more noise lost in the vast expanse of human stupidity. True intellect regarding the whole—which is what philosophy actually is—doesn't recognize any such thing as positivism. If someone genuinely believes that philosophy is composed of neat little branches, specific sub-fields, or rigid structures, then I truly wish them a smooth journey into the "philosophy of nonsense." They can go ahead and specialize in their little niches, perhaps under a heading like: THE PHILOSOPHY OF GUILT. I’m waiting for someone—maybe you, Atlantic—to actually start speaking philosophically about the whole, say, the totality of the Human Being.
Thought I’d throw a little more fuel on the fire regarding the concept of WHOLENESS—maybe shake things up a bit? Wholeness is essentially what encompasses polarity, and if you think about it, polarity is just a reciprocal inversion of identity. There’s this great English passage that nails it: The polarity of male and female is simply part of the polar system that fills the universe, much like how we see positive and negative electrical charges, or the way polarity functions within the atomic structure of quarks and electrons. Then there’s the whole magnetic aspect to consider: The reality is that magnets actually emit two completely distinct forms of energy—the north pole and the south pole—and these energies have massive impacts on biological systems. It turns out south pole energy spurs growth, whereas north pole energy tends to retard it. Both of those points make it pretty clear that a polar system permeates everything—the entire universe, every object, every physical thing, every life form, every human being, every idea, and every single thought. We’re talking about the fundamental force that constitutes and fills the entirety of anything. In a very literal and all-encompassing sense, a "whole" is a Human Being—simultaneously masculine and feminine—whereas "masculine" and "feminine" aren't wholes themselves, but merely polar halves that oscillate and exchange reciprocally. The philosophical implication here is a sense of pervasiveness and universality that, if viewed as philosophical insight, could actually be empirically proven. It gives philosophy a genuine shot at reclaiming its lost connection to Phil and Sophia. We really just need to radicalize philosophical inquiry by placing it within the context of modern discoveries—specifically findings regarding polarity, such as this: Polarity simply means power and information (energy) that runs from one pole to another. The universe, life forms, and all of creation are built upon this principle of positive (plus) and negative (minus) poles. That’s the kind of wholeness philosophers should actually be tackling!
There’s that old cliché everyone knows—searching for the impossible just to squeeze out the absolute maximum of what's possible. It seems like Atlantic has really taken that mantra to heart lately: let's just give it a shot instead of constantly labeling things as impossible, unknowable, or beyond reach. Honestly, just trying to get close to the WHOLE thing is a massive undertaking in itself, so let's revisit Atlantic's take: basically, the WHOLE is everything that simply IS (in any sense of the word), which means it has to include all those weird leftovers we usually ignore when we try to visualize the WHOLE—things like space, time, consciousness... Time is inherently meta-empirical because, well, it encompasses empiricism itself, making it theoretically inaccessible to us. In my view, this perspective is still stuck at the level of generalization—more of a challenge than actual insight—because, as Atlantic puts it, it remains INACCESSIBLE. But is it truly unreachable?
Aunt Pandora has a slightly different angle, which, from the standpoint of intellectual history, is actually quite sound. I find myself leaning toward her view, and here’s why: my job is grounded in realism. (I’m a machine designer/engineer) and because of that, I know that before any object—any component of a machine—becomes part of our physical reality, it exists in my design-oriented brain as an idea. A kind of reality in its own right. That reality is always a cocktail of familiar elements pulled from the world mixed with NEW elements born from the interaction of ideas within my head (or anyone's, really). For a long time, I thought this was how we approached understanding the Whole (idea + reality, or vice versa), at least until I started digging deeper into the phenomenon and phenomenology of POLARITY. That’s where, at least in my estimation, the image of the WHOLE begins to emerge—the very Whole that philosophy has been unsuccessfully trying to conceptualize to this day, always hitting a wall at the barrier of the INACCESSIBLE!
To make a long story short: my strong impression is that thinking about the WHOLE is only possible through the polarity that underlies everything Atlantic mentions and Pandora opposes. If you're up for it—and this is a warm suggestion—maybe we could chat a bit about the phenomenon of polarity? Let's approach it as researchers, without any "model-based" competition, meeting as equals in the knowledge that we all only know a tiny fraction of what polarity and the phenomenon of polarity actually are, even though they constitute the fabric of our lives from conception to birth, from birth to... well, ??? The question marks aren't accidental, leading toward a new "conception," toward a new polarization... which ultimately finds ITS OWN WHOLE!
Atlantic, we can dive into the Whole and empiricism later!
To quote Pandora: EVERY COMPROMISE SOLUTION IS WRONG! I couldn't agree more!
So, I just wrapped up this massive project—calling it an "Adult Picture Book" for the sake of the title—and it’s basically a 352-page A4 beast. It’s packed with 290 images total: about 133 pulled from the web and 157 that I actually put together myself, plus 14 different tables scattered throughout. If anyone happens to be interested in a bit of contemporary—well, let's call it modern visual philosophy—feel free to reach out directly. I'll send over a promo CD for free, no strings attached.
Seriously though, since when did philosophy become just some "discipline"? How can someone who claims to be talking about philosophy—or even engaging in philosophical discourse—call it a discipline at all? It’s been, is, and will always be the study of the whole—the big picture. We’ve already hashed this out here a few times, haven't we? So why the constant need to demote it to some narrow academic subject—like legal philosophy, or an art form, or even the "philosophy" of wine, whiskey, or just plain nonsense? It’s total nonsense.
So, it looks like we’re on the same page—which means it might be time for me to start dragging science and religion into this mess too, right? But here's the thing: sure, there's a difference in how we interpret things, but what exactly are we interpreting? If we've already agreed that philosophy is basically the study of the whole—or at least thinking about the "whole"—then shouldn't we be applying that same level of communication to other disciplines, like spirituality? Or is that a stretch? Though, if we're talking strictly about art, then you can't ignore the symbol. At the end of the day, that symbolic way of thinking is pretty much the backbone of any serious philosophical discourse regarding art.
I’ve always had a soft spot for what Etienne Surio puts it: "An artist wants to create a singular, unusual entity that exists for its own sake. The mere thought of beauty can actually mess with the psychology of creation—an artist isn't chasing 'beauty' or any other arbitrary category; they're chasing that specific world that the work itself becomes." In my piece on philosophy origin, I posed this: "How can a work of art actually function as philosophy? Isn't that question essentially tracking the same path of strangeness?" It's been said that in classical art, works were basically totalities—think paintings or statues of people. They were complete wholes, crafted from an outside perspective. A painting like that is really just the packaging for traditional philosophy, which sought to understand those kinds of closed systems. But then you have contemporary artists who paint totalities, though unlike the classics, these are structural totalities viewed from the INSIDE. Such a painting or sculpture presents a totality without needing to describe it or put it into words. That’s why it’s essentially wordless philosophy. A classic example of an artist dealing in these structural totalities would be Escher. So, there’s my take on how art and philosophy relate—or don't. Personally, I think Hegel was dead wrong when he claimed art is the lowest level of the absolute spirit; he missed the mark both in his premise and his whole interpretation of the dialectical triad—you know, thesis, antithesis, synthesis.
I posted some thoughts over at www.evolutionarytheory.com/theories regarding my piece, "Evolution Demands a Redefinition of Humanity." I’m curious—from a purely philosophical angle, where exactly are we headed? Where is the human race actually evolving toward? Can philosophy even touch the question of whether there’s an evolutionary goal, or if there's any inherent purpose or meaning behind the natural and applied sciences?
I’m not entirely sure how you arrived at the conclusion that I view art solely through a visual lens—especially since I brought up Escher in the first place. It’s actually quite the opposite, isn't it? An Escher piece is simultaneously philosophy, science, and religion all rolled into one. Should we perhaps dive into a specific example—maybe look at an actual Escher work? Can you help me understand why there's this persistent push to drive a wedge between science and philosophy? If we’re actually in agreement on the definitions—that science deals with understanding the individual pieces of a whole, while philosophy seeks to grasp the whole itself—then aren't they just two complementary ways of thinking?