Abstract vs. Concrete Thinking

The intellect is a double-edged sword: it has the potential to support a grounded, conscious life but if we are not careful it will keep us spinning in endless abstractions

In my many years in graduate school and academia, I have noticed that philosophy can be divided into two camps; philosophy that is interested in puzzle solving and philosophy that is interested in transforming our view of the world in a pragmatic and down-to-earth way. Puzzle philosophy is committed to solving certain conceptual conundrums, questions that exist only in the landscape of theory. Some examples include: How can we simultaneously have free will and be committed to the existence of a universe governed by causal laws? How is the mind connected to the body? What part of our psyche constitutes the “self?” Puzzle philosophy is what initially attracted me to philosophy. I thought that if I could clarify the confusions and inconsistencies of my conceptual view of the world I would arrive at some sort of ultimate, transcendent truth that would solve the existential dissatisfaction and confusion I felt. Although this exploration did provide me with more internally consistent ways of thinking about the world, the feeling of incompleteness, yearning, and existential confusion was barely, if at all, touched. 

The intention of this post is not to put down puzzle philosophy, I do think it can be valuable in sharpening our intellect and encouraging us to reflect on the implications of a given conceptual scheme; neither of which are superficial undertakings. That being said, I do want to suggest that we should be wary that any fixed, abstract intellectual system can provide us with an existential, metaphysical, ethical, or even religious answer to what life is or how we should live it. It seems to me that this focus on mere conceptual coherence is a tendency we all fall into in our thinking that is merely overexaggerated in academic philosophy. Whether it be in the realm of politics, religion, or even interpersonal expectations of what a roommate, partner, or friend is supposed to be like, we often find ourselves relying on ideas that stem from a system of beliefs that we committed to early on in our lives. If our intellect is to be an aid rather than an obstacle in growing and developing along with the constantly changing conditions of our life, I would suggest that committing to a static and unchanging belief system and trying to filter the indeterminacy and dynamism of our moment to moment experience of life through that fixed lens is not helpful. Instead, we want to learn to think “concretely” to think with the changing conditions of the dynamic world of experience. I want to suggest two tips we can use to confirm that our thinking has real, concrete relevance to how we live on an everyday basis.

The first of these tips is the simpler and probably easier of the two: we should be able to point to a specific and practical habit, practice, or orientation the adoption of a certain ideal or worldview would encourage. Let me give an example: being raised a Roman Catholic I had to go to Sunday School where I was taught some of the central tenets of Christian theology. One teaching that stands out in my memory is that of the Holy Trinity. I was told that God was both one and three; that the Father, the Son (Jesus), and the Holy Spirit were simultaneously three different entities and one and the same entity. When I asked how this was possible I was simply told that it was a mystery and that I should have faith. I was surrounded by people who were inhabiting a system of concepts that they were confident in. However, I was given no pragmatic advice on how this could be translated to the concrete conditions of my life. In other words, I was encouraged to commit myself to an abstract and fixed belief system.

I choose this example because I think if we can understand the Holy Trinity in a concrete and pragmatic way, it is a deep and powerful doctrine. When I studied Hegel in graduate school and read his interpretation of the Trinity, my eyes were opened to a new way of looking at this doctrine. Here I will just mention one small element of Hegel’s understanding of the Trinity, it really deserves a whole book. For Hegel, the Son, or Jesus, represents the ideal human being in the sense that Jesus lives completely in line with his own human and divine nature. Jesus understands himself to be both one with and separate from God. Jesus is able to act as a manifestation of God the Father in the world insofar as he acts in a way that acknowledges his interconnection with the whole of God’s creation, the whole of humanity. This community of fellow humans is the Holy Spirit which connects the Son to the Father. Thus, for Hegel, the Trinity points out how we can manifest God’s love into the world as human beings. We connect to God the Father through the Holy Spirit by acting for the good of all humanity and thus become like Jesus, the Son. In this understanding of the Trinity, I found a very concrete orientation: you can act in line with your true nature by aligning yourself with values and motivational structures that produce goodness for all beings.

The second tip may be a bit more of a challenge but in my experience can be a very valuable way to keep ourselves from committing to an abstract belief system. We should be able to articulate the ideal or belief we have in different conceptual schemes. I am not suggesting that all conceptual schemes are equally appropriate for expressing all ideas, concepts, and values. I am aware that sometimes schemes can even be incompatible; and that it is sometimes impossible to articulate the fundamental commitments of one scheme within the context of another. That being said, if we truly have a practical and down-to-earth understanding of a concept or idea, I have found this often comes with a certain amount of flexibility and fluidity in our ability to communicate that concept with people from different backgrounds. Let's say we want to explain the Trinity to somebody who is committed to a modern, materialistic, and scientific worldview. Of course, we would not be able to articulate to this person that God is the origin of all life. However, if we had this pragmatic understanding we would at least be able to express that the Trinity can illustrate how reliant each individual is on their larger context and that happiness lies in acting for the good of this larger context, even if we think of this context as only one’s community or ecosystem and leave aside notions of divinity. If we only understood the Trinity at an abstract level, even this would be impossible; as the belief in the Trinity would be composed entirely of the connection between the abstractly defined concepts of God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, with no understanding of what these concepts point to in the immediacy of our experience. If we can only express an idea within one worldview and are not able to at least point to some of its implications in another, it may be a sign that we have only learned an internally consistent conceptual scheme and do not understand the way these concepts can help us perceive and orient toward our immediate experience in a concrete way.

These two strategies are not only helpful with grand religious and metaphysical doctrines like the Trinity; they can be applied to any belief we have. Let me give one more example. We may have a strong belief in the importance of environmental sustainability and our status as members, rather than lords, of the ecosystem that we inhabit. We could ask ourselves, is this just a belief we hold or are we actually willing to make practical and specific sacrifices the belief would ask of us? Are we willing to bike instead of drive to work? Are we willing to reduce our intake of foods that contribute to climate change? When it comes to the check of translatability to other conceptual schemes we could ask, can we live in line with this truth of interconnection in other areas of our life as well? If we claim that we cannot lord over the earth but then try to lord over the employees we are in charge of at work, for example, this would reflect a lack of translatability of the values we are committed to.

 In an essay on writing, George Orwell writes “The worst thing you can do with words is surrender to them.” Words and concepts are powerful tools for communication and self-reflection but humans all too often end up surrendering to words, thinking words, concepts, and the relationships between them reflect the truth rather than the pragmatic way of living and being in the world which the words are pointing to. Or as they say in Zen Buddhism, “Don’t mistake the finger pointing to the moon for the moon.” I hope that these two suggestions can be helpful in encouraging us to stop staring at the finger.

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Please feel free to leave a comment if you have clarification questions, feedback, critiques, or anything to add. Philosophy is all about dialogue! I will do my best to respond to all questions and concerns.