1 Benjaminâs Questions
Benjaminâs first philosophy is written primarily in two voices: one is programmatic, while the other is fragmentary. The programmatic voice is reaching towards a new set of questions, without promising an answer, fearlessly seeking to uncover open space that has been ignored, without limiting itself only to questions that it can resolve. The fragmentary voice, on the other hand, provides theses that could be seen as answers to the questions posed by the programmatic texts. Yet the theses are fragmentary, in that they seem too direct, too deprived of any context or explanation: the theses mostly present a juxtaposition of concepts that have to be thought together in a constellational manner to be understood. Given the alternately programmatic and fragmentary nature of Benjaminâs early first philosophy, it is hard to distill a theory in a systematic manner. But this chapter will take a first, preliminary step to deciphering the pattern of this mobile project: it will lay out the questions and problems that animate Benjaminâs early thinking, and provide hints at how this program remains latent in Benjaminâs later work.
Benjaminâs text âOn the Program of the Coming Philosophyâ is most indicative of his tendency to pose original questions to which he does not yet have a solution, but which orient him towards new philosophical discoveries.1 This text might seem to represent a failure in a philosophical sense: Benjamin certainly never wrote a systematic text that answers all of the demands laid out in this text. As Fenves notes, Benjaminâs âProgramâ is a somewhat unique text in the history of philosophy in the following respect: there are other texts that declare themselves to be prologues to a future philosophy, such as Kantâs Prolegomena, Feuerbachâs Principles of the Philosophy of the Future and Nietzscheâs Beyond Good and Evil, but they generally act more as trailers for a movie that has already been made, as incitements or abbreviations for an already developed work, whereas Benjaminâs âProgramâ does not have any finished work as its basis.2 Indeed, some of the demands it makes might seem so ambitious that no theory could do justice to them. In one of the most sustained treatments of this âProgramâ in the secondary literature, Howard Caygill places it right at the center of Benjaminâs thinking, but he prefaces his treatment not only by calling the program a âfailure,â arguing that it orients Benjamin towards a kind of philosophical nihilism from which he would not escape.3 In contrast to Caygill, I will argue that even if Benjamin does not ever fully follow through on the âProgram,â it poses questions that make it possible for Benjamin to think in a highly original way about core philosophical concepts, and rather than growing nihilistic, to found philosophical values that sustain his thinking. Indeed, Benjaminâs words about Kafkaâs largely fragmentary, posthumous writings could be applied to his own writings at this point: âPerhaps all of these studies (i.e. fragmentary texts) amounted to nothing. But they came very close to that nothing which alone makes it possible for something to be useful.â4 In his unique affinity for Kafkaâs tendency to produce brilliant fragmentary works and leave them unpublished, Benjamin seems to articulate a method he could identify with based on his own work: the idea of reaching a certain kind of insight through what he calls âstudy,â a fragmentary, patient process of unfolding various ideas without regard to their completion, a discipline of blocking off a certain conceptual path in order to find another one. This process may result in failure, or in ânothing,â but this nothing cannot be overlooked so quickly. In philosophical terms, the ânothing that alone would be usefulâ is the space created by asking questions and thinking in a provisional way.
Indeed, this discipline of asking open-ended philosophical questions plays a crucial role in Benjaminâs conception of philosophy as an activity. In one of his earliest writings, an essay called âThe Life of Students,â Benjamin explains the uniquely philosophical role of students within the university, because they are able to ask questions that cut across disciplinary boundaries and because their pursuit of knowledge is not yet constrained by professionalization, which often confines knowledge to seeking after finished, instrumental results. He calls this youthful spirit of non-professionalized, unconstrained and unbounded inquiry philosophy, and he argues that without such youthful philosophy, the university becomes ossified into a mere apparatus of state power.5 It is precisely to the extent that the young do not yet know what they will do with what they are learning that they can take up a philosophical attitude towards it. The idea of youth is for Benjamin a symbol of the very nature of philosophy, a point which is articulated by Fenves in his treatment of Benjaminâs early ideas about university education in comparison to those of his contemporary Heidegger: âInstead of (Heideggerâs) âcom-pleted particularity,â Benjamin introduces the concept of an âimmanent state of perfection,â in which fulness is already at its end and therefore appears only in the most finite ⌠transient things.â6 In the ability of youth to ask open-ended questions, to remain undaunted by the experience of others, Benjamin finds an âimmanent state of perfection,â an ideal or a model of what it means to find fulfillment in the conditions of finite thought.
As I will argue in this chapter, Benjamin himself would soon disavow having a âprogramâ in his thinking,7 and yet he would continue to be guided by the questions posed in this program. In the âProgram,â these questions take the following forms: What does it mean to have an experience for its own sake? Even if experience presents the occasion for scientific (i.e. empirical) knowledge, what is it in the process of experience that does not enter into such knowledge? What are the different modes or forms of experience, and how do they fit together into a continuum? How is it possible to account for the transient or ephemeral nature of experience within the framework of philosophical thought? What if truth is not a property of acts of knowing, but of experience? How does this kind of experience enter into language, and what notion of language would such a notion of experience provide? These questions clear a certain space for thinking in a new way about experience. As Fenves argues, the central problematic of Benjaminâs early âProgramâ can be circumscribed as follows: âTo develop a concept of experience that is fundamentally distinct from that of knowledge, without thereby becoming a concept of Erlebnis.â8 For Benjamin, a true philosophy of experience thus seeks to chart a path between two different philosophical appropriations of the notion of experience, that of enlightenment epistemology and that of âlife philosophy,â both of which subject experience to a kind of reduction, the one by making it a mere means, the other by making it a mere effect of an underlying cause.
âThe Program of the Coming Philosophyâ
Benjaminâs âProgramâ departs from a stark claim about the philosophy of the enlightenment, culminating in Kant: this philosophy depends on experience to provide the material or impetus for knowledge, but it does not ever pose the question of what it means to have an experience. It does not seek an exhaustive or deep knowledge of experience, but rather looks at experience in an instrumental, or what Benjamin calls a âsuperficialâ manner. He writes of the enlightenmentâs notion of experience: âAs an experience of the world, it (experience) was reduced to the lowest order.â9 Kantâs Critique of Pure Reason uses experience as a safeguard to protect cognition against metaphysical dogmatism, and perhaps more importantly for Benjamin, the critical project in its entirety even provides a general typology indicating that there are different modes of experience (ethical, scientific, aesthetic). This latter point of classifying and distinguishing different forms of experience remains for Benjamin a defining goal of the âcoming philosophy.â But he argues that â(Kant) undertook his work on the basis of experience reduced to a nadir (Nullpunkt), to a minimum of significanceâ in that he âpresupposed an experience which had almost no intrinsic value and which could have attained its sad significance only through its certainty.â10 Experience is significant for Kant because it grants us a basis of tangible certainty that we could not find in mere thinking or speculation. In positing this relation between experience and cognition, Kant does not consider the problem of experience in its own right, for example, by asking whether there are not aspects of experience that withdraw from cognition. By defining experience in this manner as a guard against empty thought, experience is robbed of its own marrow; that is, it is taken as a simple baseline common experience, rather than a fully generative set of possibilities. It only becomes knowable as a means to certainty, but it has no intrinsic value. Benjaminâs early philosophy will consistently distinguish between âmeansâ and âmedium,â between the use of language as a tool and the richness of language as a medium of experience.
Benjamin posits an essentially temporal reason why the focus on knowledge limits the ability of Kantian philosophy to grasp the true nature of experience: knowledge is a result, a product that stands, while experience is transitory. He writes:
The problem faced by Kantian epistemology, as by all epistemology, has two sides, and Kant only managed to give a valid explanation of one of them. First, there was the question of the certainty of knowledge that is lasting, and second, there was the question of the integrity of experience that is ephemeral.11
There are aspects of experience that can be distilled as a product that stands, but the stream itself is not reducible to this product. Kant seeks after what Benjamin calls the justification (Rechtfertigung) of a mode of experiential understanding, which of course relies on what is âfertigââthe validity and transferability of the finished, the product that stands up to flux and change. In focusing so exclusively on the side of experience that can become a product of certain knowledge, Benjamin ...