Precedence...

Presence is this early Heideggerian concept that—if you actually wrap your head around it—basically gives you the roadmap for understanding almost everything else he does later on. And even if you couldn't care less about Heidegger, I honestly think it’s worth grasping what this "presence" thing actually means.

Being "present" is basically anything we can just grab with our hands, stuff we don't experience in any other way. Like, take a rock. A rock is just present. We don't experience it any differently than that: it's just something sitting there in front of me that I can pick up, toss, or smash... just something right there, ready to be handled.
To clear up what presence really is, H. explains another mode that’s different from it. He calls this one "readiness-to-hand." So, if I want to drive a nail into something, that rock isn't just "present" anymore; it becomes "ready-to-hand." I’m experiencing it as "something for something," like a tool. Instead of a rock, I might use a hammer, and then that would be something ready-to-hand. Any device, while it's working, has this mode of being ready-to-hand. But once it breaks or becomes useless, it’s just "present" again—just something neutral that exists, something we can say *is*, but not something we can say is there *for* a reason.
So, a rock, a hammer, or even a wristwatch could be experienced as
1. something present, just something that "is."
2. something ready-to-hand, something that "is for..." like, say, smashing a window or driving a nail.

But wait, are there other ways things exist besides those two?
Take a tree, maybe a cherry blossom tree in full bloom (just my own little example 🙂). We can experience it in the mode of presence—totally indifferent, just like that rock. It's just "something that is," in a neutral way. Or we can see it in the mode of readiness-to-hand: it's "something for..." maybe for eating cherries, or for shade, or for making baseball bats out of the wood.
But is there more to it? Don't we experience that tree in some other way, as something alive, something growing all on its own, something that has a mode of being beyond just those two? Absolutely.
Think about a lamb playing in front of us. Again, in that indifferent mode of presence, it's just "a thing." And in the mode of readiness-to-hand, it's "something for..." (like, for a Sunday roast—which is definitely not that first indifferent way).
But isn't there something else? Yeah, there totally is.
A human being (I started writing "child" but that felt too heavy even for this, honestly), well, a person has all those modes of being that a lamb has. You can see them as just neutral, indifferent, yeah; then you can see them as "something for..." (like, someone to make money off of, or someone to hit, or whatever...), and they also have that unique way of being, of living.
But there's even more. Something where we experience that person precisely as a human being. Not indifferently, as "a thing" or "some object"; not as "something for..."; and not just as an animal... but specifically as a human.

And look, it's obvious that if we miss it—every single time we fail to see them truly as a human and instead treat them as "a thing," or "something for...", or just an animal—that is a massive failure. Like, we failed at our basic task. We were just indifferent. Anyone who isn't completely heartless is definitely going to feel that.

But wait, what kind of talk is this? Don't we have science? Logic? What kind of philosophy is this, just "feelings"? Shouldn't philosophy be about something objective and rational, rather than just leaning on unreliable feelings?

Coming up in the next part: how logic and science back up the idea that that one single mode—presence—is the *only* way to exist, which unconsciously pushes this inhuman indifference. And how, when you mix that with technology that only recognizes one other mode—readiness-to-hand, or manipulation—you end up with some pretty grim consequences.

mistyfox812 said:It seems pretty obvious—if we fail to encounter him, and indeed every single time we fail to experience him as a true human being—instead treating him as just "some thing," or a tool for some purpose, or even just an animal, then we have missed the mark entirely. We simply haven't risen to the occasion... we’ve been indifferent. Anyone who isn't completely heartless, well, they certainly feel that weight.

👍

Naturally, our unconsciousness causes us to miss out on a conscious experience. I see those various stages of perception—those levels of involvement and engagement you mentioned—as varying degrees of consciousness. In this sense, "pre-reflexivity" represents the lowest tier of perception: observing something without actually engaging with its essence.
To me, the highest state of consciousness is active participation with everything around us—that realization of the profound, conditioned interconnectedness between the subject and the entire world.
I'm curious to see how you'll tackle the relationship between this and logic and science.

Nitko i ništa said:It is clear that whenever we fail to experience him as a true human being—instead treating him as an "it," a mere tool, or just some animal—we have missed the mark. We failed our fundamental duty. We were indifferent. Anyone who isn't completely heartless certainly feels that failure.

In the next installment: how logic and science support the idea that this single way of existing—this premeditatedness—is the only way to exist, which unconsciously promotes a very inhuman indifference. And when you combine that with technology that only recognizes one mode, namely utility and manipulation, you get some pretty grim consequences.

That is the key question. Baudrillard speaks about a simultaneous state of indifference and impatience.

Here is what I wrote for NPR.

One thing is crucial in this seduction, which acts as a superficial abyss: the position of the object and the subject-object relationship. For a moment, one might think the scope of the "subject" here moves beyond traditional philosophical frameworks, even metaphysics itself. But the end of metaphysics is that very certainty that creates this preemptive merging of subject into object. The chapter title is: From a System of Objects to the Destiny of the Object. Because the subject belongs to the realm of desire, which is always a desire for death (perhaps due to the conflict of numerous impulses... using Fromov’s definition of destructiveness...), while the object is the realized utopia—which now becomes a fatality for the subject. The subject no longer possesses that passion (which psychologists might diagnose as masochistic) to be an object. Baudrillard concludes by noting that we haven't sufficiently evaluated this passion, neither in politics nor in aesthetics. What is the property of the object? It is adaptation, voluntary servitude... all seen through the lens of asepticism. It is an incubator where people place themselves, envious of a medicine that serves as a tool rather than a purpose, envious of constant media images of themselves, externalizing privacy and internalizing so-called events as media kits. This is what could be called today's "polite society." It lacks irony. Membership in this world belongs to Viriliov’s speed—the constant presence of one's own virtual image as the only thing left to serve as a prosthesis for a declining reality.

And where do I see this potential redefinition of ethics? Does it simply represent a psychoanalysis of society? It lies precisely in this new normalcy that replaced totalitarianism. The concept itself is enough to dismantle the unity of thought and being, of subject and object... which isn't even necessary to liberate the will to act. Will is our destiny; it is what seeks only a benign theoretical articulation... as I noticed in American pragmatism... and how Kant felt no issue deriving the categorical imperative without knowing the essence of a being he labeled as an "inanimate thing" (in itself). So, we have a closed system demanding scrutiny... its theoretical premise... and we have something that claims openness but is essentially just a bubble (like a fetus?) that uses its external signs to throw itself into a simulated dialogue. The greatest deception of liberalism is the idea that there are separate regions of a person's social being that can be interpreted. It increasingly shows contraction, inversion, and reductionism. It is just a simple, horizontal conveyor belt acting as a barrier against sliding into neo-barbarism.

Etc.

Here is the link.

http://www.npr.org/article/example-link-14054

If this is off-topic, my apologies. We are waiting for the next part from Nitko i ništa.
🙂

Here’s the next part:

mistyfox812 said:Coming up next: how logic and science basically feed this idea that there’s only one way to exist—this rigid, predetermined "pre-set" existence. It makes us think it’s the only way things can be, which honestly just pushes this weird, inhuman indifference under the radar. Then, you take that mindset and mash it together with technology that only recognizes one single mode of operation—purely being "handy" or manipulative—and man, things get pretty grim.

Logic starts way back with guys like Yeltsin—I mean, Parmenides and Zeno. It all kicks off with that whole "what is, is; what isn't, isn't" vibe. Just two options, right? A or not-A. Something either exists or it doesn't. There’s no middle ground. *Tertium non datur.*
This whole idea of "being" in logic? It’s totally neutral. Like, it doesn't care what it's talking about. It works just as well for a rock or a thought as it does for a human, a blade of grass, an angel, God, a kid, a smile, a number, a molecule, a red blood cell, or even a chakra. Everything follows the same deal: if it is, it is; if it isn't, it isn't. If any of those things actually exist, they all play by the exact same logical rules. Aristotle basically said that logic talks about what exists, provided it exists at all. So, yeah, everything that exists, exists. That "is-ness" is the same for everything. A stone, a hammer, a lamb, a person—it's all the same. This "being" in logic is just this neutral, indifferent thing. It’s exactly like what Heidegger was getting at when he talked about primordiality. And honestly, you can see how easily you can fake or falsify whatever you're arguing if you just use it in that totally indifferent way.

Science—this whole modern thing we’re doing—it really kicks off with the new era. You’ve got Galileo, you've got Descartes... But if you want to talk about the actual foundation, the first real science in the way we define it today? That’s mathematical physics. It all really came together through Newton.
So, what's the big deal with this modern science compared to how things used to be? It all boils down to one thing: measurability. It’s not enough anymore to just say something is "moving," like Aristotle would have put it. No way. Now, you gotta give it a number. You need a measurement. Like, "it's moving at *this* exact speed." Eventually, it wasn't just about motion; everything physical had to be boiled down to a number. And then it didn't stop there—suddenly, we're trying to measure everything from social trends to psychological states... you name it. Basically, if science is talking about it, it has to be quantifiable. Everything has to be expressed as a number. Period.
Time to get real about your sex life! Seriously, how's it actually going? Like, be honest with yourself—how many times a week are we talking? And don't just give me a vague answer... I want you to rate the quality of every single one of those sessions on a scale of 1 to 10. Let's hear it!
I mean, look—if we can't find some kind of number to pin down our external experiences, we basically don't know anything at all. Like, how are we even supposed to understand how we're living if we aren't measuring stuff? 🙄
We only really know what we can actually measure. Everything else? Just total guesswork. It’s basically the core rule of science, whether people admit it out loud or not.

Okay, so what does it actually mean to "measure" something? Like, what are we even doing here? We measure distance with a ruler or a tape measure, right? Fine. What about time? We use a clock. But how does that even work? The hand moves a certain distance as time ticks by. Wait... so we’re basically just turning time into distance and then measuring that distance. Got it. And mass? We use a scale. But that's just a needle moving a certain amount, too. We take this weird, fuzzy sensation of weight and turn it into a physical distance just so we can track it. At the end of the day, it feels like everything we measure just boils down to length. Everything.
So, basically, we’re just leaning into that whole Descartes's meditation vibe where every single quality of everything outside ourselves gets stripped away until all you're left with is pure extension. It's wild. We're basically taking every single property of existence and shrinking it down to nothing more than some random number or a measurement of length. Just... yeah. That's where we're at.
If we circle back to how those different modes first started developing, it’s pretty obvious which one we’re dealing with here. When you take something like a rock, a hammer, a lamb, or even a human being, and you try to boil them all down to just "extensiveness," you're stuck in that same old trap. That whole idea of measurability? It's nothing more than that cold, indifferent mode of presence. It's the kind of logic that works fine for a stone, sure, but it totally guts the actual essence of a flower or the soul of a person.
I mean, let's be real—that whole "feeling" of love you're talking about? It’s ACTUALLY just a massive pile of molecules. Just a bunch of enzymes and hormones doing their thing. That’s what love *is*. Purely those molecules. It's exactly like that rock sitting over there—just a heap of molecules, nothing more.
Science definitely pushes this whole "everything just *is*" vibe. Like, everything exists in this static, pre-determined way—just like a rock. It’s all about that "pre-given" mode because, let's face it, if you can't measure it, science says it doesn't exist. Period. Honestly, that hollow feeling I get when people stop seeing others as actual human beings and start treating them like some indifferent "thing"? That's exactly what "scientific objectivity" does to us. In that mindset, an object isn't a person; it's just a thing you could theoretically grab with your hands. Just a rock.
Later on, Heidegger drops this heavy line: "Science doesn't think; science just calculates."

Technology isn't some path to objectivity. Nah, it leads straight to what Heidegger called "handiness." It turns everything into just "something for..." If it’s not useful, we basically treat it like it doesn't even exist—which is pretty depressing when you think about it. We've just gotten used to dismissing anything that isn't "useful" as nothing at all. Being "handy" just means it's something we can handle, or in Latin terms, something we can "manipulate." Honestly, I don't even want to get into the dark side of having this kind of purely instrumental relationship with the world; it's too much to write out and honestly just brings me down. But here's the gist: we stop seeing things for what they actually are. A plant, a river, even a person—we don't see them as themselves anymore. They just become "something for..."—just tools we can tweak and control however we want to suit our needs.

So, if Heidegger says science doesn't think and logic doesn't think... then what's left? Who actually *thinks*? Who sees things for what they really are instead of just trying to prove them wrong or use them? Who looks at a person as a person (not just some primate or a data point in an economic spreadsheet), or a flower as a flower (not just a specimen in a textbook), or a rock as a rock (not just raw material for construction), or a river as a river (not just a source of hydroelectric power), or even an angel as an angel (instead of just some hallucination caused by a messy personal life)?

The late Heidegger doesn't find the answer in science or logic. He finds it in poetry. A poet has this sense of "releasement"—this ability to just *be*—that lets them see a person as a person, a flower as a flower, a rock as a rock, a river as a river, and an angel as an angel.
"It is poets who ground what remains."

Jonathan Brooks8,
you’re right—logic and raw numbers are essentially colorless, tasteless, and odorless. They only gain flavor, hue, and scent when they are wielded by the people using them to make sense of the world. Since logic and data are merely "servants," we shouldn't be blaming the tools; we should be looking at the "masters" pulling the strings.

The way a master directs their purpose is exactly how the servant serves that same goal.

Following the sequence from mere observation to quantification... well, everything aligns with what you've said. It all exists on a sort of indifferent plane, but that sequence leads to a deeper layer—the qualification of the quantitative. This means that even identical numbers can possess vastly different qualities. This is the path toward that sense of individualization you feel is missing. Take medicine, for example—doctors have realized they can't just apply a blanket treatment to everyone because every patient is unique, and every illness is distinct. There isn't a single pair of identical carcinomas in the entire US, just as there aren't two identical fingerprints or two identical corneas. Because of that, a specific therapy might be a miracle for one person but completely ineffective for another.

As for logic—and here we step away from that neutral plane again—what *is* simultaneously becomes what *is not*. And that is perfectly logical, given that logic itself is (if we recall) devoid of taste, color, or scent. We touched on the concept of the "woman-man" once before; if she is a woman, then she isn't a man. But that’s an oversimplification, because within every woman, both masculine and feminine elements "blend," much as they do within every man—so every woman is, in some measure, also a man, and vice versa. Or consider this: we drop a stone from our hand, and it falls to the ground. But beyond the fact that the stone fell, the Earth actually rose to meet the stone. Makes perfect sense, doesn't it?

Ultimately, the world is a song, even if none of us are poets.

🙂

At first, I thought "pre-utility" was just a way to describe the natural world—everything out there that exists independently of us, things we can observe but not necessarily control. It felt like a way to define how humans relate to a reality that has its own mode of being, completely detached from what those things might be "useful" for. But then I realized you could also apply this to an object, like a broken gadget; once it stops working, it regains that sense of pre-utility. So now, I see the concept differently: it’s not about something being inherently "untouchable" by nature, but rather about the degree to which we have no functional relationship with it. It’s less about an essential state of being and more about the distance between us and the thing itself...
I guess I’m a bit of a dreamer, as people might say... because I found myself immediately pulled toward that raw thread of existence, looking at the world as it truly is, right in front of my eyes, even if I couldn't reach out and touch it. Just now, I stopped in front of a cherry tree. It didn't tempt me with its bright, sweet fruit; I didn't feel that sudden urge to grab a handful and stuff them into my pockets just because I know how good they taste. Instead, I just stood there, treating the sight like a painting, simply soaking in the beauty for a moment... But it isn't all poetic whimsy. My neighbor just walked right past it without a second glance, carrying a basket of cherries he bought at the local farmer's market. Why would he stop to stare? He’s already got his prize. If I were to take just two steps back and try to truly grasp what that tree *is* in its purest, most neutral form—without the context of food or beauty—maybe it wouldn't even look like a cherry tree anymore. It might become something entirely unrecognizable...
A tree can't influence my emotions the way a person can. It won't smile at me when I look confused, or rustle its branches to catch my attention, or tug at my hair if it senses I'm about to follow my neighbor. It won't even swat at my arm with a twig if I start trying to carve my initials into its bark...
Maybe it's just an illusion I subconsciously create—this sense of intimacy we feel with something that simply *exists*. When I try to strip that away and understand the tree as a neutral entity, just existing in its own way, that illusion shatters, leaving nothing but a sense of total incomprehension...
But if I could actually comprehend how this tree, as a living thing that grows on its own, might possess its own internal world—its own capacity to suffer or thrive through a biological version of feeling—then perhaps I wouldn't experience it as something fundamentally alien or "other." Without me and my little illusions, the tree is just a neutral fact of life that "is." And yeah, it happens to be delicious, too...

So, what you're basically saying is that everything is potentially useful and practical. Isn't there a way to say that without all the extra fluff? Just keep it simple: everything has value. 🙄

By the way, in that whole long-winded rant of yours, you also tried to explain the natural world through closed systems like math and logic. You know as well as I do that's just not how reality works.

mistyfox812 said:So basically, you're saying everything is potentially useful if it's convenient enough. Can't we just say that more simply? Like, everything out there has some kind of practical value. 🙄

Nah, that's not what I'm getting at at all. What I mean is—if you try to force these specific ways of living (like being "prepared" or "handy") onto beings that naturally exist in a totally different way (like us humans), you end up completely misreading them. And since you're starting from such a flawed perspective, you're basically doomed to be wrong about them forever.

Someone, or nothing at all, says this:
No, that’s not quite it. What I mean is that when we try to force a specific way of being—like demanding someone be more "useful" or "efficient"—onto beings whose very essence is fundamentally different (take humans, for example), we end up with a completely distorted view of them. It’s a flawed perspective from the get-go, the kind of mistake you just can't unsee once it's made.

Even "utility" is just one narrow lens through which to view existence. Why on earth would we limit ourselves to looking at things through just one single perspective? 😕

mistyfox812 said:I mean, utility value is just one way to look at something that exists. Why would we limit ourselves to just one perspective? 😕

The whole thing is that people take a specific viewpoint—the "scientific" one—and slap an "objective" label on it. They act like that’s the absolute truth, while anything else gets dismissed as just "subjective," which basically implies it's some kind of illusion.

Traditional philosophy asks, "What is this thing, really?" So, the real question is: which approach actually gives us the answer to what something *is*, and which one just clouds the whole picture?

it’s all just noise:
Traditional philosophy usually asks, "What is this thing?" Essentially, the question becomes which perspective actually reveals the true nature of an object versus which approach just muddies the water and leaves us more confused than when we started.

I get it now. We were basically saying the exact same thing, just using different wording. 😁

Nobody and nothing said:The issue is how a specific perspective—labeled as "scientific"—is declared to be "objective." In this context, "objective" is treated as absolute truth, while anything else is dismissed as merely "subjective." And what is "subjective"? It’s treated as if it were just an illusion.

Traditional philosophy asks, "What is something?"
So, the real question is
1. Which approach to a single thing will actually give us the answer to "what is it?"
2. And which approach will simply cloud the answer?

1. Direct (derived from the "thing" itself)
2. Indirect (detached from the "thing"—the objective view)

Let's be clear: "objective" observation is impossible. Why? Because the very act of detachment is itself an illusion. We only *perceive* that such detachment is possible.
Subjective perception is the only thing truly accessible, but the catch—and it's a massive one—is that people choose to believe in the reality of that first illusion: the illusion of separation.
If there is no true separation, then the subject is as much a part of the object as the object is a part of the subject. They become fundamentally indistinguishable.
Space, time, matter, life, mind, consciousness, love, truth, existence, non-existence... it's all a chaotic mess.
IT'S ALL ONE PIECE.
Reality, in its essence, isn't divided or differentiated. The division—the naming, the categorizing—is something we create within reality through our own reasoning.
Therefore, we can conditionally say two realities exist:
Reality as it truly is.
And the reality that exists for us, shaped by our perception—which is essentially an illusion since it possesses no independent existence.

Both these realities exist, but they aren't running on parallel tracks. They aren't separate entities. One exists within the other, through the other, and because of the other. They are ONE acting as TWO. However, they aren't equally "real." If the true reality were to solve the problem of creating, sustaining, and maintaining multiple worlds while remaining untouched and omnipresent, it would have to account for this relativity.
This means the illusion isn't some triviality; it is a massive, potent force of creation that allows things to "exist" even when they don't possess their own inherent existence.

An illusion, then, is anything that lacks its own independent existence.
So, "objective" observation is just the illusion of an observer observing an illusion. 😉
Good grief... I've managed to wrap my own illusory self in an illusory layer of pseudo-intellectualism with this illusory rambling. 🙂

Now, I'm just waiting to hear from the "objective observers" regarding their "objective evidence" of an "objective reality"... 😁

Even cherries in bloom seem to manifest most beautifully within this particular illusion. 👍

But ultimately, I just wanted to say that there is no such thing as being "early." 😉
And the secret essence of those cherries in bloom hasn't been discovered yet, because it isn't something you can reach with your hands; it's something you reach with your soul.

Pandora said:

I see you've been reading some Descartes... 😁

nobody and nothing said:Here is the continuation:

Logic begins somewhere back with the likes of Yeltsin: Parmenides,
............

Modern science—the kind we recognize today—starts, quite obviously, with the modern era. It starts with Galileo, with Descartes... The first true science (in our current sense of the term) and the blueprint for everything else is mathematical physics, as it was forged by Newton.
So, what is the fundamental difference between this modern scientific approach and what came before?

Fine. What does it actually mean to measure? What are we even measuring? We take a distance and use meters. What else? Time, using a clock. But how do we measure time? Well, a hand moves a certain distance as time passes. Ah, so we reduce time to distance, and then we measure that distance. Exactly. Then there's mass; we use a scale... again, it’s about a moving hand. To measure it, we strip away that vague sensation of weight and reduce it to a physical distance, which we then measure. In the end, everything comes down to measuring length.
Essentially, we accept that Cartesian meditation where all the qualities of things outside ourselves are stripped away, leaving nothing but extension. We reduce every quality to a number, to a length.
....
''By the way, that feeling you have of love is ACTUALLY just a cluster of molecules—some enzymes, some hormones—that is ACTUALLY love, those molecules, just as that rock over there is a cluster of molecules.''
Science undeniably promotes this attitude that 'everything exists in the exact same way.' It treats everything like a rock, in a mode of mere presence. Because nothing exists except for... Or it's nothing at all (meaning nothing of value, though we've become accustomed to calling anything lacking utility 'nothing'). It’s convenient to deal with things this way.

So, Heidegger argues that science doesn't think, that logic doesn't think... what is left? Who is doing the thinking? Who doesn't just falsify, but accepts things as they truly are? Who views a human being as a human being (not as a primate, or an economic unit), a flower as a flower (not as a botanical specimen), a stone as a stone (not as a mineral or building material), a river as a river (not as potential hydroelectric energy), or an angel as an angel (not as a hallucination caused by a dysfunctional sex life)?

The later Heidegger doesn't find truth in the vicinity of science and logic, but rather alongside poetry. The poet possesses that sense of Releasement that allows them to see a human as a human, a flower as a flower, a stone as a stone, a river as a river, and an angel as an angel.
'Poets establish that which remains.'

Parmenides is an ethicist because, based on the postulate "that we can only think about that which is," he delivers a critique of such a stubborn existence of lies and falsehoods...

Descartes is a believer who used science merely as a tool...

Measurement isn't the essence of true science; it's just counting.

Yes, we are a combination of molecules, whether people like it or not...

Heidegger says that only ontology "thinks," just as you say...

That later phase of his, the poetic one, is nothing more than a poor imitation of Schlegel...

It would be incredibly fascinating to hear what Heidegger would have to say about that late, incompetent politician and the way he was handled, especially if you compare him to the basic, rudimentary concept of Being and Time...

B+t+w....
We really ought to run a poll: how many people have actually bothered to read "Being and Time" in their entire lives?😉

Jessica Williams2 said:Being and Time....
Maybe we should run a poll just to see how many people have actually sat down and read "Being and Time" ...?😉

Look, I was honestly trying to write this in a way that makes sense even if you haven't touched the book.
That’s kind of the whole point of a forum, right? It’s supposed to be a meeting ground, like an American town square or something. A place where the people who’ve read it and the people who haven't can actually hang out. And honestly, if the folks who *did* read it can't explain it to the rest of us, then they probably didn't grasp it that well either.

I finally snagged a copy of Being and Time—the actual original German edition, obviously. I couldn't find it for under $44 anywhere, and all the used bookstores were totally picked clean, but hey, this one looks gorgeous on my shelf. Now the big question is... when am I actually going to get around to reading it?
Well, whenever it’s my turn, I guess. Maybe in a few years. I just finished collecting all the original editions starting from Descartes and moving forward. I'm planning to dive into the 'Meditations' pretty soon too (that Time Magazine monologue wasn't a bad little warm-up, though), just so I can finally say I've read something substantial besides Plato.

Heidegger's whole deep dive into the difference between "ready-to-hand" and "present-at-hand" actually starts with how he totally branched off from his teacher, Husserl. For Husserl, basically everything we encounter in an experience is just an object for some consciousness—you know, for a subject. That whole line of thought follows Descartes and the rest of that modern philosophy era. But honestly, when Heidegger goes on his massive rant against Descartes, he's really taking aim at Husserl.

Heidegger’s take is that being "an object for some observing subject" is just one specific way to experience things, which he calls "present-at-hand." Like, look at this keyboard in front of me. Right now, it’s an object for my consciousness. But when I’m actually typing away? Most of the time, the keyboard isn't even an "object" I'm thinking about. In fact, while I'm typing, I'm usually totally oblivious to the keyboard itself. My mind is focused on the meaning of what I'm writing—and sure, that text might be an "object for my consciousness"—but the keyboard isn't. During the act of typing, I run into the keyboard in a completely different way. It’s not something sitting "in front" of me that I'm staring at; instead, it's "ready-to-hand." I'm using it without overthinking it, without "observing" it... it’s more like an extension of myself that I don't even have to worry about. It's only when the keyboard starts acting up—like if I hit the 'P' key and a 'Q' pops up instead—that it suddenly becomes an object of my observation. That's when I'm like, "Wait, what happened to this thing?" In that moment, the way the keyboard exists for me shifts. It stops being that seamless, ready-to-hand tool I don't think about and turns into a present-at-hand object I have to actually look at.

By using this "ready-to-hand" example, Heidegger is showing that the idea that "everything is just an object for some consciousness" is only one narrow slice of how we experience reality. It's the same deal with people, too. Usually, the people we meet aren't just "objects for our consciousness." We experience them much more directly. It’s only when we distance ourselves or create this weird, artificial gap that they start becoming "objects for our consciousness."