It has been some time since I last wrote. Perhaps it is the interminable tasks which surmount me, but I find that even in my free time, I am unable to think, to reason, to battle with my ideas. New arguments are presented constantly to me, more and more, and with each burst of novelty the speed at which texts are thrown increases. It might just be that this is studying; know everything in the short time-span you have; have no time to reflect on what you just learned, learn something else. Reflection will come later, once you know all, and even more about one specialty. I carry some responsibility over such conundrum. Indeed it is gratifying to increase one’s own range of knowledge —from the practical, to the niche tastes, to culture and the arts. Diving into immense areas of knowledge of which I know I will not have any true  understanding is an immense pleasure of mine. But I do not dwell on this much, I rejoice in doing such digressions.  

Nonetheless, I do not think the avalanche of knowledge is what is impeding me from writing. Recently I have had a different anxiety: when presented with such a vast amount of knowledge, with such diverging arguments and counter arguments, I cannot set my foot on something. I feel that if I settle for something, this will be wrong later on; that even if I have the time to reflect and expand on something, I will be wrong. Stupid. For such is the purpose of this blog, to see over time how I have changed; as mentioned in the first blog: “I want to encounter the Other in me”. Merely writing this down has made it clear to me that I have to overcome such nonsense, but where to start? I reckon it is absolutely stupid to not write for fear of being wrong, it is utter cowardice; however, overcoming such infantile fear is daunting. 

Lingering around such impossibility to grasp truth lies an epistemological problem. Can we ever reach truth? It is plausible that I do not yet understand what such a question even means, perhaps I have not yet read what will bring forth an answer to such a question, but which nonetheless exists. For the time being I will only stipulate some considerations to the question and make no assertions (I remain in the anxious realm).  

If there is always the possibility of reaching newer, more precise, and correct understanding of something, then reaching the truth appears as such impossible. For there is always the possibility that newer knowledge will discredit what we established as truth. The logic structure of such a statement actually contradicts its content. It is a tautology, and tautologies are always true. Unless we consider that tautologies are only contingent truths, i.e., they will be true if the conditions which gave rise to considering tautologies necessary and universal validity remain. Anyone who is knowledgeable in logic would read the stated and discredit it immediately. Rightfully so. Again, I am not raising assertions, merely considerations which are sound, and which fuel the anxiety. 

If universal and necessary claims are existent, they should appear as so to everyone, i.e., no one should see a universal and necessary claim, and (correctly understanding it) deny it or reject it. If such a requirement is coherent and true, then by now we should see a number of true arguments, but what we encounter in factuality is that every claim is challenge-able. Side note: I do not mean scientific knowledge, for the scientific method paradigm deals with such problems differently (through falsifiability); I am solely speaking of philosophical arguments, specifically political philosophy —and I would like to exclude logic, since its epistemological background is more concrete than in other fields. An example illustrating that every claim is challenge-able is the present status of philosophy in academia. Every article which is published, every book, every tweet even is simply an interminable process of ‘call and response’; “Fraser did not understand X”, “Rawlsian approaches exclude Y”. Nothing seems to be necessary and universal. Perhaps this shows more of the world than of the status of philosophy, i.e., humanity is not homogeneous. 

I do not here wish to spouse the illusion that I am seeking a universal claim in political philosophy; I do not think it is possible. What I am denouncing is the spirit of philosophy which so badly causes anxiety. But, as I hope is obvious, such anxiety can be understood as a philosophical tool. It is within those not-knowing painful moments that one gains the most clarity: within all the chaos, some things shine brighter. It is an introspective tool to guide the philosopher towards that which they are most attracted to. At present time, the tool appears as rudimentary and unfinished (ironically), but I hope such tool allows for investigation: (1) succumb to anxiety of not knowing (or not having answers to) a concrete subject; (2) rejoice in such anxiety, let it guide you towards the most pressing; (3) once there let yourself go into the hundreds of possibilities; (4) take the hand of that which shines brighter. 

This rudimentary method, I hope, serves to eliminate a further problem I have been reflecting recently. Whether I believe in something because I do so, or because I would want to believe in it. Thinking about multiple things, I have been at times ‘catching’ myself siding with arguments which I would not think I would accept. After, I reinforce the other side, the correct, with multiple literature and constant rebuttals towards the unacceptable; it is shameful, like repressing an unwanted. Curiously, it is in most trivial matters that I do this; most possibly because actual drastic opinions are rooted strongly. For example, I was thinking of dialectical materialism, and its capacity as a theoretical framework to allow the ‘user’ to understand the world. Upon inspection I thought that such a framework was as materialist as liberalism. Dialectics, contradictions, synthesis. All applied to materiality of course, but none inspected through matter. They are of course rooted in idealism, these concepts are inherited from Hegel, so it is not ludicrous to find such traces. I do not deny that dialectical materialism is not heuristic to social sciences and philosophy; I still think it is one of the most coherent theoretical frameworks, and indeed still see most of the world through it. What I cannot reckon with is its verifiability. Perhaps because of a lack of study upon the subject, but I do not know of any instruments or methodologies through which study the phenomena with dialectical materialism as a framework without using as a tool my mind, my ideas. In contrast, analytical Marxists reject dialectical materialism and rather study phenomena through positivist methodologies. I find this more concrete. However, my inner self rejects such science as bourgeois; perhaps too much indoctrination. But in the end, I believe in dialectical materialism because I want to, and moreover because I do not fully agree that positivism is correct. Returning to anxiety as a tool for philosophy, diving into the problem and letting me be carried by anxiety should, according to what I mentioned, allow me to see which of the two I actually believe, not for wanting to believe but for true belief. 

Despair is sometimes easy to fall on. Nothingness has a certain attraction. Instead of being tormented by knowing, not knowing is an easy ride. Ignorance is bliss, as is often said. But one finds that fighting such craving, fighting such blind guidance towards nihilism is not only correct, but ultimately satisfying. Having said absolutely nothing truly additional to knowledge in these words, but merely structuring my thoughts was more gratifying than letting nothing carry me. Anxiety is not nothing, it is an ache for the not-knowing, what will happen. Let yourself ride anxiety, and stir away from nothing.