Philosophy, in general, is a quest for truth and Richard Rorty says that truth does not exist in this world. There is no „abolute“ truth out there, no „ultimate“ truth, no primordial truth in this world (or beyond the empirical world). He even claims that there is no „intrinsic“ truth in things. Truth is something attributed to things via sentences, via languages, and languages are a human construct. Outside of language truth does not exist, it is no inherent quality of things. Everything that we assume to know about this world eventually only is an interpretation: a contigent interpretation that is ultimately bound to and arises out of a specific cultural, historical, socioeconomic context. History is not a trajectory alongside which knowledge is created in the fashion of an ever increasing approximation to truth, it finally is only a contigent mess, a contingent chaos. Rorty is an anti-realist; he does not claim that there is a truth in reality that nevertheless might be difficult, if not finally impossible, for the human mind to be approached and understood: he claims that there is no truth in reality at all.

Rorty also says one of man´s most noble intentions, and the primary intention of the philosopher: a „will to truth“, a desire to get to know the truth (regardless of the outcome and the quality of that truth) does not exist. What is taken as a „will to truth“ or a „love for truth“ in reality is just some desire for justification, a need to systematise and to avoid (psychologically difficult to bear) cognitive dissonances, something political, or some kind of religious desire to get into contact with a higher instance that protects. A „will to truth“ or a „love for truth“ does not exist, claims Rorty.

Finally, Rorty equates truth and a „will to truth“ to something inherently authoritarian. To him, truth is something that finally will impose itself on us, as a law and as a rule, and limit our freedom, our authenticity, quasi incarcerate us. Truth, to him, is little else than a prison. The idea that there is a truth out there to him is an archaic sentiment that there was something „non-human“ out there to which we need to bow down (i.e. born out of (a desire for) self-humiliation). And what is a „will to truth“ finally is a „will to (the) Truth“ and a „will to power“ of some sort. Rorty wants to do away with all of this. With a „will to truth“ (and a „love“ for truth) and with the idea of „truth“ itself. He wants to do away with „the grim father figure“ (that „truth“ is supposed to be) and, therein, help humanity to reach actual „maturity“.

In this plasticity, Rorty´s philosophical credo strikes as somehow neurotic, and his staunch aversion against „truth“, realism (i.e. of something „non-human“ out there), „love for truth“ etc. as a neurotic aversion. He (quite deliberately) limits the notion about what truth actually could be and then (quite deliberately) universalises this notion and superimposes it on everything else – the entire empirical and „metaphysical“/transcendental reality. It is obvious that he equates metaphysics and traditional philosophy (and even science) to (conservative branches of) religion. He was stubborn and relentless to promote and defend his views, although they seem counterintuitive and perplexing (although he did so quite well and with quite good arguments). Contrary to Rorty´s „ironist“ stance that (philosophical) vocabularies are under permanent „redescription“ and change, Rorty´s (final) philosophical vocabulary never changed, but, in quasi-„metaphysician“-like manner, throughout his life and career stood erect, statuary and tall. Rorty also dismissed philosophy in general and said that politics is more important (and that the ultimate goal of human existence was the erection and furthering of liberal democracy, not a (philosophical) sorting out of „truth“). Yet Rorty´s zeal for truth as being the non-existence of truth strikes as fundamenally political alike. (Rorty – and that makes him likeable – expresses his annoyance about „liberal“, left-wing academics to steer science, education and institutional politics in a certain political direction; Rorty himself might not have been this way – was liberal and ironist enough to not have been this way – but, as a more intelligent person and a true philosopher, instead tries to steer all philosophy, science etc – the ENTIRE discourse about everything – in a certain direction.)

It is not easy to sort out how much Rorty´s philosophy is born out of (unhealthy) polemic or of (healthy) scepticism and critical thinking. Both seems amalgamated in his case, to say the least. Since Rorty´s arguments have solidity and often are non-trivial, what he says needs to be considered.

At first, however, his notion that there is no „intrinsic“ truth in things is the most confusing. Everything that exists needs to have „intrinsic truth“ in it, otherwise it would fall apart, not even form, not be identical to itself, it would have no essence, the world of existence would be a place of permanent miracles, or life would be „like a dream“ (respectively if there was no intrinsic truth in things there would be nothing to prevent such a chaos from happening at any time). Anything that exists needs to have stable intrinsic qualities in itself – which then are also their intrinsic „truth“. (I am actually confused and uneasy to say this, because it seems so trivial that I do not know why I need to say this – so that I cannot help considering that I might be in the wrong with this.) One might say that what we assume to know about the truth of things (their atomic and molecular structure, their chemical composition, their DNA code, their modes of interaction with other things, etc.) are mere „interpretations“ within a „language game“ called modern science, but these are not deliberate but very exact „interpretations“ with a high need for precision, which, furthermore, also enable the correct prognosis of things (therefore, they need to be „true“). And if they may, currently, be not the final „interpretation“ of things, or they may contain an empirically unapproachable Ding an sich that can never be revealed, it does not allow the stringent conclusion that things have no „inherent truth“ in themselves (such rather deems a flippant interpretation of how stuff is that we just have not managed to finally sort out by now).

Rorty does not like the idea of a „non-human“ truth being out there. He finds that degrading for humans. But non-human entities exist, and make up for most part of reality. We do have some power over them, and some power over them we do have not. I am grateful for these non-human things to exist. They are (like humans) not necessarily my friends, and not necessarily my enemies. They wake me up from my metaphysical slumber. They make me want to („poetically“) intepret them and they make me want to investigate them concerning their meaning and essence by rational conclusion. They limit my freedom in a useful way, and they construct my freedom out of nothing by their existence. In order to attain stable relations to them, they need to have intrinsic truth in them. I do not find the existence of non-human entities (or truths) denigrating. Rather I find their denial denigrating to them. I am a realist and I find it good to live in a world where there are laws, regulations and stuff on which you can trust. I find it good that I am not living in a poetic dream world. If I wanted to live in a poetic dream world I could go back to the middle ages, or to India.

Rorty´s denial that there was no „love for truth“, that „love for truth“ would be just come camouflage for something else also makes uneasy (and rather seems revealing about Rorty´s own motivations and inner states than of the subject under consideration). Quite polemically, Rorty equates a „love for truth“ to some secular version of a religious zeal and desire. In his striving for not only revealing „dirty little secrets“ behind human „love for truth“ but actually equating them both, Rorty even surpasses Nietzsche in his respective suspiciousness and scepticism (and edgelordism) – respectively Rorty´s position is of definitely other quality than Nietzsche´s as he is distinctly anti-suspicious and anti-sceptic in his denial for a human „love for truth“. Although Rorty offers some good points and stuff for consideration (without, however, any of these being something new) his stance finally is unconvincing and his lax argumentation make things just worse. I (like, to some degree, everyone else) am a lover of truth and, even after careful consideration and introspection, cannot identify with any of Rorty´s arguments. I actually love truth, with no second thoughts behind it. On another occasion Rorty equates „love for truth“ with (simple) intellectual curiosity. But curiosity not necessarily is very deep and not necessarily involves intellectual rigor and an acceptance of findings one was not actually looking for.

Rorty is a (neo-) pragmatist. He is very fond of the founding figures of pragmatism – William James and especially John Dewey – but he is less embracing towards the originator of pragmatism: Charles Sanders Peirce, whom he accuses of lack of orientation and depth of focus. The only true innovation Rorty sees in Peirce is that he enabled the „linguistic turn“ in philosophy – which nevertheless independently was also initiated by Frege. (I have not read a lot by or about Peirce yet, but his writing style and his ideas strike me as a manifestation of an extremely elevated and self-secure intelligence, even by standards of great philosophers – which obviously tragically subverted itself and hindered Peirce´s success among his contemporaries as Peirce was constantly rewriting his texts throughout his life and published little.) Yet, among other things, Peirce also introduced the idea in philosophy that man´s approximation to truth (is not a solitary thinker´s game but) is like within a scientific community that gradually progresses towards truth or, at least, towards ever greater clarity and transparency. Rorty dismisses this idea. To reiterate, Rorty not only claims that historical processes are essentially contigent (and therefore inherently no linear ascension) but also that a final „truth“ to be discovered does not exist in this world. Therefore any orientation towards discovering truth is an orientation towards nothing, towards an illusion.

Rorty, by contrast, advocates philosophical or scientific discourse being some kind of „conversation“ between philosophers or scientists. Yet Rorty´s notion of philosophical and scientific discourse being some kind of casual salon talk among the educated has met considerable criticism: since philosophical and scientific discourse cannot be „casual“ but, first and foremost, necessitate rigor. Rorty, however, is not in denial of this. To him, what needs to prevail in discourse is the better argument. One might note that an „argument“ refers to some truth, and a better argument must refer to something closer to truth than the weaker argument. Yet an argument usually does not refer to some metaphysical, ultimate truth (which alone Rorty denies to exist). An argument only needs to be correct (i.e. true/valid in a certain context, but not necessarily outside of that context). And an argument is done within language – again you have Rorty´s notion that „truth“ is only an element that arises within language, i.e. „epistemologically“, not ontologically.

Arguing and making discourse is a social praxis – therefore also science and philosophy are considered by Rorty to ultimately be nothing more than a social praxis. To Rorty, social praxis can never be evaded. And man can never step outside language. Ironists agree with Davidson about or inability to step outside our language in order to compare it with something else, and with Heidegger about the contingeny and historicity of that language. (p.75) Yet there are currently around 7000 languages in this world (dialects not included); there are 800 languages spoken in Papua New Guinea alone and 700 languages spoken in Indonesia. There is mathematics and its notation systems, there are sign languages, body languages etc., in sum: an overwhelming abundance of languages and systems to transmit information. Therefore stepping outside a language and comparing it to something else is an easy possibility at hand. Likewise, it is not clear what social praxis is, it at least does not have clear contours. Social praxis is not identical with itself. Transgressions against „social praxis“ permanently occur.

The point Rorty makes however is that anything that transgresses current social praxis will be, at least if it is successful, another social praxis, i.e. a given social praxis is not necessarily a prison, the prison no one can escape however is from everything being a social praxis. However I cannot help thinking about any idea that transgresses given social praxis of being something singular, emanating out from something that is (asocially) compact in itself – from something that is individual in relation to society (that „individual“ can also be a group within society). Stuff that transgresses social praxis of course happens inside a social praxis, but also outside of it. This double-naturedness is something that „totalitarian“ notions like those of Rorty, Foucault or Derrida (of EVERYTHING being (nothing more than) „social praxis“/“power“/“text“) do not seem to have been able (or will ever be able) to successfully integrate in their heuristics, despite all their Raffinesse in trying so.

Rorty refutes traditional epistemology, considering it useless and a wrong track (in philosophy paved by Kant). Rorty says we do not process information by some kind of inner experience and intuitions (from which we cannot finally sort out about what is our subjective inner experience and how much we can ever know about the Ding an sich) but by the more clear-cut and precise means of language. To Rorty, everything is language. Yet there is criticism against „linguistic turn“-philosophers like Rorty or Derrida (whom Rorty admires a lot) that, in doing away with epistemology, they elevate language to the same status of something that we cannot evade in our contact with the totality of reality and that effectively serves as a barrier against an „ultimate“ contact with the totality of reality. Despite his love for poetry and the power of imagination, Rorty remains very rational on this important part of philosophy. It might be fair to say that both, language and intuition (or more than just those), are our epistemological tools.

Rorty also endorses a concept of man that dissolves man into a social being, lacking inner solidity and cohesion. To Rorty, humans are (nothing more but) „complicated animals“ and centerless webs of beliefs and desires (p.88); he is among the (p)hilosophers who deny … that there is anything like a „core self“ (p.189). To Rorty, everything (also philosophical notions) is just constituted by „relations“, with the entire world being a „web of relations“ and the quality of entities being overally defined by the web of relations they are entangeled in,  and not by their „inner core“. Rorty mentions a lot of examples that actually illustrate human malleability (and malleability of philosophical concepts) and that are very useful for further consideration and deeper introspection. But he also mentions a „psychopath“ being the result of bad, malicious relations in which the psychopath misfortunately had become entangled. Yet this is an unlucky example. Psychopathy is an inherent quality in respective individuals (just how it manifests may depend on socialisation). More generally, Rorty again wants to come up with sharp, precise, definitive concepts which nevertheless just lack precision. Whether humans are nothing more but complicated animals is a matter of perspective. You may also consider archangels as being nothing more but „complicated animals“.

Considering humans to be „complicated animals“ rather appears as a „poetic“ notion than a rational one. But Rorty likes poetry! In the original sense, poetry means „creation“. And something that we call „poetic“ usually refers to something that (magically) seems to transcend its own obvious qualities and has additional meaning. Poetic language seems to reveal meaning that is beyond language and its own words. As such, poetry stems out of imagination and adresses imagination. To Rorty, a philosopical „truth“ – i.e. something that makes sense within philosophy – is a poetic creation/innovation, and the philosopher is less a „metaphysician“ who wants to expose primordial non-human absolute truths, but a poetic creator and innovator that comes up with something new that makes sense. Rorty even considers a (natural) scientist to be like this (also science to him ultimately is but a branch of „poetry“) Therefore the goal of philosophy (science, etc.) is (poetic) enrichment of our existence. Rorty says, the more vocabularies we have at our disposal, the more „knowlegde“ we have, the more poetry is in this world, the better. To him, the goal of generating vocabularies and of knowledge is not to get closer to a (final) truth but to come up with interesting stuff that enriches our lives. He advocates „knowledge“ to become „broad“ instead of „deep“.

Broadness and depth of knowledge however is nothing that can be seperated from each other. In fact, they make up for each other. – Yet to come to an actual and vital point: what is truth, eventually? Is truth a solid or an elusive concept? „Truth“, at first, refers to similar qualities like: correctness, justification, plausibility, adequacy, meaning, reason, causality, validity, proof, unmistakeable evidence, agreement, concordance, consistency, etc. etc. It seems all these concepts are of a more limited range and more context-specific than (absolute) truth. Yet all these concepts are also modes of truth. Truth, eventually, appears as something that cannot be definitely defined. Truth seems to dissolve into a Familienähnlichkeit between concepts. Despite being a disciple of Wittgenstein, Rorty does not take this into consideration. He wants to do away with the entire idea of truth (and its family-resemblant connotations) by coming up with a specific concept of truth: Truth limited to a „metaphysical“, primordial truth that manifests via revelation. Yet, again, truths that manifest via Revelation and have binding character are religious truths. Truly (rational) metaphysical (respectively philosophical or scientific) truths, by contrast, are reached by conclusion – and neither necessarily are „authoritarian“ nor universally binding. I, for instance, think there is no deeper truth than the universe (respectively any dynamic system and therefore any universe and any world) being a chaosmos, a mix of order and chaos, of determinedness and freedom, of necessity and contigency. I do not see a lot of authoritarianism in that or that there is something in that that „imposes“ something on us. At best, I see it as a useful corrective both against stubborn conservative notions that favorite stability as well as against overally idealist „permanently revolutionary“ notions that think they can dissolve any stability easily. Moreover, the truth of the chaosmos is rather not a truth as an essence. It is rather a truth as an attribute, as a characteristic (it would need deeper investigation to sort out what is a truth-as-essence and a truth-as-characteristic, and if they truly can be seperated, nevertheless). Rorty always implicitely talks about truth as being a truth-as-essence (and dismisses it as such). But Truth may come around in many forms.

Rorty´s battle against „truth“ somethimes strikes as a contigent battle, a battle against the arrogance and high-handedness within (US-American) academic philosophy, where Rorty originally had been an outsider. Yet of course it is of much more transcendent importance, and it is a battle within philosophy itself. A bit about this battle seems out of date nowadays nevertheless. Postmodernism (within which Rorty was part of the US-American branch) has done its share and transformed philosophy, in some parts at least the atmosphere within science and philosophy seems more relaxed than in former times. Even economists don´t seem to be that dogmatic anymore. The discourse seems to have embraced a bit more the „ironist´s“ stance and reduced the gravity of the „metaphysician“. Yet of course Rorty´s battle is a battle about the foundations of philosophy itself.

I do not think that Rorty´s kind of battle will eventually win however. Philosophy is metaphysics, not irony or poetry. Both irony and poetry are tools within the philosophical toolbox, but not philosophy itself. Rorty´s philosophy renders philosophy a bit meaningless, and therefore it seems counterintuitive that it becomes philosophy itself. In some resemblance to what Rorty admits about irony and the ironist´s stance – that it is inherently reduced to a matter of private refinement, but cannot be building priciple of the public/social/political realm where things need to be taken seriously – Rorty´s philosophy may be a tool for refinement of philosophical disourse and perception, but not philosophical or scientific discourse itself: where things need to be taken seriously and where we, first and foremost, find ourselves entangled in stuff that highly matters to us, that is serious to us and needs precision – and where we have no effective means to sort out between what is a contingency and what is of much more transcendent importance (not necessarily as an absoute or eternal truth but a contingency so far reaching that it makes no use trying to take it (and dismiss it) as a „contingency“). In general, reality is something very vast. Also, as we have noted, „truth“ is something very vast. In this vastness of reality there seem to spheres where Rorty´s philosophy is of use and seems highly applicable. And others where it seems not. And then there are unknown unknowns. Things we don´t know that we don´t know what concept of truth and what philosophy would be most adequate to them. Life is, and remains, a mystery.

In the big picture, Rorty might be right with his vision of our world being a nothing but a mess of contigent struggles and small games about elusive „truths“ in which we take ourselves too serious. When I was younger I sometimes wondered whether the world could actually be like this. But this a rather dreamy and poetic picture, not a highly sober one. It seems to originate more from nebulous imagination than derive from rational conclusion. But, as they say, dreams may come true. Maybe Rorty´s time is not yet ripe for the breaking and maybe this time is about to come in an Aeon that is yet behind the horizon. Maybe the 22nd century will be called Rortyian.

All quotes from Richard Rorty: Contingency, Irony, and Solidaridy, Cambridge 1989