The Future of Philosophy

ruggedraven36 said:I don't see it that way at all. It just means that real philosophical problems can't be proven—but they aren't unspeakable either. They’re baked right into human nature. They'll always be relevant, regardless of Wittgenstein's "wise" advice to just shut up about them. At the end of the day, you have to philosophize if you want to be human.

That’s early Wittgenstein we’re talking about. Later Wittgenstein isn't looking at language as some rigid system of symbols; he sees it as an activity. He’s moved past the obsession with ideal language or metalanguage and is much more interested in everyday, common speech. By doing this, he shifts away from pure logic and moves toward "language games." Sentences aren't just meaningful or meaningless to him anymore (as they were in the Tractatus); instead, he categorizes them based on narrow and broad contexts, specific speaking situations, and the sheer variety of how words are actually used (Philosophical Investigations). It’s a massive leap. Whereas he previously viewed philosophical texts as nonsensical—sentences where we failed to assign meaning because we lacked a referent or a physical object in the world to anchor them—he now argues that the meaning of a word depends entirely on its specific use within a linguistic game. Russell wasn't happy about this at all; he dismissed this interpretation as mysticism, and honestly, he had a point. Up until then, Wittgenstein had been precise, analytical, and thorough, but suddenly he’s leaving everything shrouded in fog. Still, he essentially laid the groundwork for what we call the pragmatic theory of meaning today. Language is full of synonyms, homonyms, and polysemy. How we interpret a sentence like "Mountain mountain mountain" doesn't depend on a dry definition, but on the placement, the context, and who is doing the talking...

To me, philosophy feels like the only true force capable of bridging the gap between people, fostering genuine understanding through a shared pursuit of objective truth—regardless of their background, identity, gender, race, or creed.
Its strength and necessity lie in its universality, even in its perceived "coldness"—which is one of those common criticisms leveled against Hegel, for instance.
Logical reasoning is an inherent capacity within every human being; even if someone hasn't quite tapped into it yet, it’s a skill that can always be cultivated.

Philosophy has the potential to unite us in a collective, creative thought process in the very places where religion tends to drive us apart.
For this reason, at least from my perspective, philosophy represents a more perfect expression of the so-called absolute spirit than religion (which can often, and frequently is, manipulative) or even art (which remains open to endless, subjective interpretations).

@Eric Newman75, look, I've read his "philosophical inquiry." Still—thanks for taking the time to break it down for me.

Eric Newman75 said:That’s early Wittgenstein we’re talking about. Later Wittgenstein isn't looking at language as some rigid system of symbols; he sees it as an activity. He’s moved past the obsession with ideal language or metalanguage and is much more interested in everyday, common speech. By doing this, he shifts away from pure logic and moves toward "language games." Sentences aren't just meaningful or meaningless to him anymore (as they were in the Tractatus); instead, he categorizes them based on narrow and broad contexts, specific speaking situations, and the sheer variety of how words are actually used (Philosophical Investigations). It’s a massive leap. Whereas he previously viewed philosophical texts as nonsensical—sentences where we failed to assign meaning because we lacked a referent or a physical object in the world to anchor them—he now argues that the meaning of a word depends entirely on its specific use within a linguistic game. Russell wasn't happy about this at all; he dismissed this interpretation as mysticism, and honestly, he had a point. Up until then, Wittgenstein had been precise, analytical, and thorough, but suddenly he’s leaving everything shrouded in fog. Still, he essentially laid the groundwork for what we call the pragmatic theory of meaning today. Language is full of synonyms, homonyms, and polysemy. How we interpret a sentence like "Mountain mountain mountain" doesn't depend on a dry definition, but on the placement, the context, and who is doing the talking...

That explanation is so logically sound and intuitively obvious that one might almost call it trivial, which perhaps justifies my tendency to wonder why some people aren't already aware of it, rather than feeling they need to 'discover' it anew.

feralranger said:That explanation is so logically sound and intuitively obvious that one might almost call it trivial, which perhaps justifies my tendency to wonder why some people aren't already aware of it, rather than feeling they need to 'discover' it anew.

I mean, sure, from where we're standing today, it seems obvious. Ferdinand de Saussure laid down the theoretical groundwork for structuralism relatively early on, but things didn't really hit high gear until after World War II. That's when members of the Prague School, specifically Nikolaj Trubeckoj and Roman Jakobson—who ended up snagging a chair at Harvard—really started fleshing out those concepts. Then you had Hjelmslev and the Copenhagen School, followed by all those semioticians over in the States, and so on. It took a massive amount of time for modern linguistics to truly gain momentum, and by extension, for the philosophy of language to catch up.

Eric Newman75 said:And honestly, that’s fine. Language is one of those things that sets us apart from the animal kingdom, isn't it? But if you're blind to the divine, how on earth are you supposed to describe the indescribable? What kind of terminology would you even reach for—metaphorical or literal? Both end up being imprecise in their own way. And let's be real: words often just fall short. I am who I am. But what does that actually mean? Take Hebrew, for example. It doesn't bother with complex verb tenses like we do; it just uses perfective and imperfective aspects. Usually, people use the perfective for the past and the imperfective for the future. "Usually," I should add, because context is everything. In the original text, you see the first-person imperfect twice and the third-person once. "Who I am" and "who He is." It captures everything: who was, who is, and who will be. How can you even begin to express the Absolute in English?

Since our language ultimately fails us, we are left with this:

Sandra Murphy33 said:To me, philosophy feels like the only true force capable of bridging the gap between people, fostering genuine understanding through a shared pursuit of objective truth—regardless of their background, identity, gender, race, or creed.
Its strength and necessity lie in its universality, even in its perceived "coldness"—which is one of those common criticisms leveled against Hegel, for instance.
Logical reasoning is an inherent capacity within every human being; even if someone hasn't quite tapped into it yet, it’s a skill that can always be cultivated.

Philosophy has the potential to unite us in a collective, creative thought process in the very places where religion tends to drive us apart.
For this reason, at least from my perspective, philosophy represents a more perfect expression of the so-called absolute spirit than religion (which can often, and frequently is, manipulative) or even art (which remains open to endless, subjective interpretations).

I personally lean toward the idea that drawing sharp lines between art, religion, and philosophy is a mistake. Just as astrophysicists search for a "theory of everything," I believe these expressions of the absolute spirit should be harmonized rather than pitted against each other. In the end, they aren't actually opposites; they only seem that way when we lack the tools to interpret them correctly.

Melissa Stewart6 said:I personally lean toward the idea that drawing sharp lines between art, religion, and philosophy is a mistake. Just as astrophysicists search for a "theory of everything," I believe these expressions of the absolute spirit should be harmonized rather than pitted against each other. In the end, they aren't actually opposites; they only seem that way when we lack the tools to interpret them correctly.

I am inclined to agree completely!

hiddenhound3 said:I am inclined to agree completely!

If you look at *The Science of Logic*, it’s easy enough to categorize it as philosophy—much like how anyone would label the Bible as a religious text. But when you get into works like Boehm's Aurora, the Tao, the Ching, or Nietzsche's Zarathustra... things get blurry. It’s much harder to decide if those belong in the realm of art, philosophy, or religion, since they really seem to blend all three together.

Eric Newman75 said:I mean, sure, from where we're standing today, it seems obvious. Ferdinand de Saussure laid down the theoretical groundwork for structuralism relatively early on, but things didn't really hit high gear until after World War II. That's when members of the Prague School, specifically Nikolaj Trubeckoj and Roman Jakobson—who ended up snagging a chair at Harvard—really started fleshing out those concepts. Then you had Hjelmslev and the Copenhagen School, followed by all those semioticians over in the States, and so on. It took a massive amount of time for modern linguistics to truly gain momentum, and by extension, for the philosophy of language to catch up.

Yes, I find myself in complete agreement with both the observation and the commentary provided.

Melissa Stewart6 said:I personally lean toward the idea that drawing sharp lines between art, religion, and philosophy is a mistake. Just as astrophysicists search for a "theory of everything," I believe these expressions of the absolute spirit should be harmonized rather than pitted against each other. In the end, they aren't actually opposites; they only seem that way when we lack the tools to interpret them correctly.

Personally, my affection for philosophy was almost entirely cultivated through literature—specifically those authors whose works are profoundly saturated with philosophical inquiry (and, occasionally, religious undertones). These disciplines are so frequently intertwined that I find it quite easy to agree with that sentiment.

Melissa Stewart6 said:If you look at *The Science of Logic*, it’s easy enough to categorize it as philosophy—much like how anyone would label the Bible as a religious text. But when you get into works like Boehm's Aurora, the Tao, the Ching, or Nietzsche's Zarathustra... things get blurry. It’s much harder to decide if those belong in the realm of art, philosophy, or religion, since they really seem to blend all three together.

Whatever they happen to be, if they aren't grounded in pure logic, they're just impressionistic ramblings and a waste of everyone's time.

feralranger said:Personally, my affection for philosophy was almost entirely cultivated through literature—specifically those authors whose works are profoundly saturated with philosophical inquiry (and, occasionally, religious undertones). These disciplines are so frequently intertwined that I find it quite easy to agree with that sentiment.

So, here we go: Fyodor Dostoevsky. He’s primarily a novelist, but you can find a massive amount of philosophy and religion tucked away in his books.

Melissa Stewart6 said:If you look at *The Science of Logic*, it’s easy enough to categorize it as philosophy—much like how anyone would label the Bible as a religious text. But when you get into works like Boehm's Aurora, the Tao, the Ching, or Nietzsche's Zarathustra... things get blurry. It’s much harder to decide if those belong in the realm of art, philosophy, or religion, since they really seem to blend all three together.

That kind of separation isn't necessary, nor is it particularly controversial, when we are discussing the texts themselves. The distinction only matters when you look at "social action"—specifically, how organized religions or the arts influence society as a whole.
When it comes to "unification"—that process of transcending ideological conflicts and individual disagreements to forge something entirely new—organized religions generally fail to help; if anything, they hinder the process.
Art can bring incredibly diverse people together, but it lacks the power to drive the social consensus required to achieve actual Change. It seems everyone on this planet is staring at the same problem: revolutions have become obsolete, limited by their tendency to merely swap out the actors without ever addressing the underlying social structures.

Philosophy, however, which never tires of interpreting and explaining—and whose primary tool is the Word, where the Word is Thought, and Thought is Creative (possessing the power to destroy, alter, and create anew)—holds the potential to be understood and applied by anyone aiming for global transformation.
By philosophy, I am referring to the concept itself. It must contain both a concentrated core of inspiration and a rich tapestry of imagery—be it mythical, religious, or folkloric.

Melissa Stewart6 said:So, here we go: Fyodor Dostoevsky. He’s primarily a novelist, but you can find a massive amount of philosophy and religion tucked away in his books.

Quite so, though I would argue that philosophy is just as pervasive in the works of Tolstoj, Hesse, Mann, Kafka, Orwell, Beckett... stretching all the way through to Exupéry, among countless others; it is simply an inherent part of their craft.

Melissa Stewart6 said:I personally lean toward the idea that drawing sharp lines between art, religion, and philosophy is a mistake. Just as astrophysicists search for a "theory of everything," I believe these expressions of the absolute spirit should be harmonized rather than pitted against each other. In the end, they aren't actually opposites; they only seem that way when we lack the tools to interpret them correctly.

But of course, it's wrong because philosophy inherently bleeds into both art and religion.

bluemason3 said:Whatever they happen to be, if they aren't grounded in pure logic, they're just impressionistic ramblings and a waste of everyone's time.

Look, there’s zero proof that guys like Leucippus or Democritus actually relied solely on logic when they were breaking the world down into atoms. In epistemology, rationalism inherently involves intuition too. It’s the same story with their rivals, starting from Parmenides and moving forward. Most of their actual writings didn't survive, but we can usually tell from other historical sources whether they were actually onto something or just spinning their wheels.

Melissa Stewart6 said:If you look at *The Science of Logic*, it’s easy enough to categorize it as philosophy—much like how anyone would label the Bible as a religious text. But when you get into works like Boehm's Aurora, the Tao, the Ching, or Nietzsche's Zarathustra... things get blurry. It’s much harder to decide if those belong in the realm of art, philosophy, or religion, since they really seem to blend all three together.

Calling something a "religious text" is just shorthand for a rigid doctrine with layers upon layers of meaning.
It's where the subject matter, the dialectics, the methodology, and the symbolism all start bleeding right into philosophy.

Eric Newman75 said:Look, there’s zero proof that guys like Leucippus or Democritus actually relied solely on logic when they were breaking the world down into atoms. In epistemology, rationalism inherently involves intuition too. It’s the same story with their rivals, starting from Parmenides and moving forward. Most of their actual writings didn't survive, but we can usually tell from other historical sources whether they were actually onto something or just spinning their wheels.

True, which is why they were mostly just talking nonsense, too. Their guesses—driven by poor epistemology—aren't any more accurate than anyone else's. They just happened to land somewhat near what we know today purely by luck, though they aren't even close to being truly correct.

Sandra Murphy33 said:To me, philosophy feels like the only true force capable of bridging the gap between people, fostering genuine understanding through a shared pursuit of objective truth—regardless of their background, identity, gender, race, or creed.
Its strength and necessity lie in its universality, even in its perceived "coldness"—which is one of those common criticisms leveled against Hegel, for instance.
Logical reasoning is an inherent capacity within every human being; even if someone hasn't quite tapped into it yet, it’s a skill that can always be cultivated.

Philosophy has the potential to unite us in a collective, creative thought process in the very places where religion tends to drive us apart.
For this reason, at least from my perspective, philosophy represents a more perfect expression of the so-called absolute spirit than religion (which can often, and frequently is, manipulative) or even art (which remains open to endless, subjective interpretations).

I have nothing but respect for philosophy, but I believe there is something "stronger," something far more universal, and something undeniably accurate and verifiable. It is the queen—if not the king—of everything. In essence, it is 😲 God 🙏

The absolute foundation of all things is mathematics 🙏

Or, to put it bluntly.

Numbers possess a precision that words simply can't match.

0100001111000111111

In other words.
Philosophy is, as Nietzsche suggested, merely a DESCRIPTION (a labeling) of the world rather than an explanation of it.

So, following the logic of Sherlock Holmes, once we eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth:

MATHEMATICS IS THE EXPLANATION😲

Nothing else holds the answers to everything.😲

I’m actually putting together a discussion on this topic. I want to explore the evolving idea that this entire existence is essentially a programmed simulation—that it is fundamentally mathematical.😲

We should start the journey with Pythagoras, travel through the ideas of the last man who truly knew everything—Leibniz—and then see where else the path leads...