Relational Oblivion and Return: A Diagnostic Reconstruction of Western Philosophy (Part Two)
Chapter Three: Phenomenology's Breakthrough and Internal Tension
Introduction: Back to the Things Themselves — Phenomenology's First Cry for Relations
After more than two thousand years of substance-centrism's dominion over Western philosophy, a fundamental turning point arrived at the dawn of the twentieth century. "Back to the things themselves!" (Zu den Sachen selbst!) — Edmund Husserl's rallying cry was not merely the manifesto of the phenomenological movement, but a full-scale assault on substance metaphysics. What this call summoned was not a return to some mysterious thing-in-itself, but a return to "primordial experience" — experience that had not yet been dissected by theoretical categories, not yet dismembered by the substance-accident framework. In such experience, what we encounter is not isolated, self-sufficient substances, but a phenomenal field that is always already interwoven, mutually referring, and mutually constituting.
For the central question of this essay — the ontological status of relations — the emergence of the phenomenological movement marks a decisive turning point. If the philosophical history from Parmenides to Leibniz is a history of "the forgetting of relations," then phenomenology is the first cry of awakening from that forgetting. In the writings of phenomenologists, relations are no longer merely accidents of substances, activities of the mind, or forms of cognition; they begin to appear as constitutive dimensions of experience, even as fundamental structures of being itself.
Yet this turning was not without its difficulties. As we shall see, every phenomenological master who approached the question of relations bore the deep imprint of his own theoretical framework. Husserl, though he elevated the question of relations (intersubjectivity) to the core of transcendental phenomenology, never managed to escape the binding priority of the "transcendental ego." Heidegger established "Being-with" (Mitsein) as an existential structure of Dasein in Being and Time, yet let this dimension quietly recede in his later "turn." Sartre, through "the Look," revealed the ontological force of relations, but locked that force within irreconcilable conflict. Only with Merleau-Ponty's "flesh" (chair) and "reversibility" (réversibilité) do we see the first glimmer of light toward a genuine relational ontology — a glimmer that has not yet fully illuminated the earth.
This chapter will trace the intellectual trajectories of these four phenomenologists in turn, revealing their breakthroughs and limitations on the question of relations. Our aim is not to provide a comprehensive history of phenomenology, but to conduct a diagnostic reading: placing each thinker under the spotlight of the "question of relations," illuminating those dimensions they rediscovered, and pointing out those territories still obscured. Such reading will pave the way for our eventual understanding of Merleau-Ponty's revolutionary contribution — and its unfinished state.
Section One: Husserl — Intersubjectivity and the Co-presence of the "Other"
One: The Ghost of Descartes — The Solipsistic Shadow in Transcendental Phenomenology
Husserl's phenomenology recommenced from where Descartes stopped. Descartes, through universal doubt, arrived at the certainty of the "I think," but immediately fell into an insoluble difficulty: how to proceed from this isolated "I think" to others, to the world? Descartes' solution — God as guarantor of truth — was, for Husserl, an illegitimate transcendence. If philosophy was to become a rigorous science, it could not appeal to any theological patch beyond consciousness; it had to reveal, within consciousness itself, how the world and others are given.
This requirement led Husserl to his core method: the phenomenological reduction. Through the "suspension" (epochē) of our natural attitude toward the world's existence, Husserl sought to reveal how consciousness "constitutes" its objects. In Ideas Pertaining to a Pure Phenomenology and to a Phenomenological Philosophy, First Book (1913), he wrote:
"The phenomenological reduction leads us to the domain of transcendental subjectivity, which is the origin of all meaning and being." (Ideen I, §33)
Yet this method itself harbored the danger of solipsism. If all meaning is constituted within transcendental consciousness, then how can "the other" — another being with its own transcendental consciousness — be given within my consciousness? If the other is merely a "constituted product" of my consciousness, then the other is no longer truly "other," but only a projection of my consciousness. Husserl himself keenly recognized this danger. At the opening of Cartesian Meditations (1931), he treated the charge of "transcendental solipsism" as the most serious challenge.
The Fifth Meditation of Cartesian Meditations — the longest and most original chapter of the entire work — is specifically devoted to this difficulty. Here, Husserl attempts to demonstrate: transcendental phenomenology not only does not fall into solipsism, but is the only philosophy capable of truly explaining "how the other is given."
Two: The Fifth Meditation — Appresentation and the Co-presence of the "Other"
Husserl's analysis begins from a basic phenomenological fact: what I perceive is not only objects, but also "others." When I see people walking on the street, I do not merely see a collection of moving physical bodies (Körper); I directly perceive these bodies as "living bodies" (Leib) — as subjects endowed with perception, emotion, and intention. How is this perception possible?
Husserl's answer is "appresentation" (Appräsentation) and "pairing" (Paarung). His argument can be broken down into the following steps:
First, my perception of my own body possesses a unique duality. My body is both a physical object in the world (can be seen, touched) and the "organ" of my perception and action — I perceive the world "through" it, rather than perceiving it "as an object." Husserl called this duality the "double sensation" of the body: when my right hand touches my left hand, the left hand is simultaneously "the touched object" and "the touching body." This experience is the prototype for my perception of others.
Second, when I perceive another person's body, that body first appears as a physical object. But there exists a "similarity association" between it and my own body: its form, movements, and behaviors are so similar to my own body that my consciousness automatically "appresents" subjectivity onto this body. Husserl wrote:
"Due to the similarity between this body and my own body in form and behavior, a 'pairing association' occurs. I 'appresent' the other's body as another 'living body,' and through this appresentation, indirectly 'co-present' (appräsentiert) the other's conscious life." (Cartesian Meditations, §50)
The key point: this co-presence is not logical inference ("this body is like mine, so there must be a mind behind it"), but a pre-reflective, passive synthesis. I directly "see" another's anger, joy, intention — these are not conclusions of reasoning, but givens of perception. Husserl called this perception "empathy" (Einfühlung), emphasizing that it is not a "projection" of my own feelings onto others, but a unique, irreducible act of consciousness.
Through this analysis, Husserl attempts to demonstrate: the other is not a "constituted product" of my consciousness, but is given as a truly transcendent being with its own subjectivity. The transcendence of the other lies precisely in this: I can never directly enter the other's stream of consciousness, just as the other can never directly enter mine. This mutual inaccessibility is not an epistemological deficiency, but the mode of being of the other as other.
Three: The Monad Community — The Transcendental Status of Intersubjectivity
Husserl further pointed out that intersubjectivity is not merely a fact within the empirical world, but a transcendental condition for the constitution of the objective world. In the 55th section of the Fifth Meditation, he proposed the concept of the "monad community" (Monadengemeinschaft):
"Transcendental subjectivity can constitute an objective world only within a community with others. Objectivity — the meaning of a world valid for everyone — presupposes a community of mutually recognizing subjects." (Cartesian Meditations, §55)
This argument has profound significance. It means: the "objectivity" of the world is not constituted by an isolated transcendental ego alone, but is generated in the mutual recognition and mutual correction among subjects. When I perceive a table, its "objective existence" means not only that it appears to me; it also means that it could appear to others, and that others' appearances could be coordinated or dissonant with mine. Without this intersubjective reference, I could not even distinguish "hallucination" from "reality" — because a hallucination is precisely what "only I see."
Thus, Husserl's intersubjectivity theory elevated relations — my relation with the other — to the core of transcendental philosophy. Relations are no longer accidents of substances, no longer appendages within experience; they are necessary conditions for the constitution of world-meaning. In this sense, Husserl went further than Kant: Kant confined relational categories to forms of the understanding, while Husserl elevated intersubjective relations to the transcendental ground of world-objectivity.
Four: The Shadow of the Transcendental Ego — Husserl's Unfinished Step
However, Husserl's breakthrough halted at the final step. Throughout the Fifth Meditation, a fundamental asymmetry persists: the priority of the transcendental ego was never genuinely relinquished.
Husserl repeatedly emphasized that the other's existence is "given within my consciousness," that the other's meaning is "constituted for me." In the 62nd section of the Fifth Meditation, he wrote:
"All otherness is a modification of 'being-for-me' within my consciousness.… The transcendental ego is the ultimate source of meaning, including the meaning of 'the other.'" (Cartesian Meditations, §62)
This formulation reveals a deep tension: on the one hand, Husserl acknowledges that the other possesses genuine transcendence — the other is not my constituted product, but another subject I cannot fully access; on the other hand, he insists that this transcendence "appears" within my consciousness, and its meaning is "conferred" by my consciousness. This raises a question: if the other's meaning ultimately derives from my consciousness, has the other's "alterity" truly been respected? Or is this merely a more refined repetition of Cartesian solipsism?
Husserl himself, in late manuscripts (especially the research notes on intersubjectivity from 1929 to 1935), sustained reflection on this dilemma. In certain moments, he nearly conceded that "the transcendental We" precedes "the transcendental I" — that the community's transcendental priority exceeds the individual's. For example, in a 1930 manuscript, he wrote:
"Perhaps the original, genuine transcendental subjectivity is not the solitary ego, but the transcendental community (transzendentale Gemeinschaft). The solitary ego is merely an abstraction from this primordial community." (Husserliana XV, p. 74)
Yet this insight never developed into a systematic theory. In Husserl's published works, the priority of the transcendental ego was never explicitly abandoned. Even at the most radical moments of the Fifth Meditation, the other remains "for-me," and intersubjectivity remains grounded in subjectivity. As many critics have pointed out, Husserl's transcendental phenomenology always carries a "methodological solipsism": starting from the isolated transcendental ego and attempting to "derive" the other — this starting point itself presupposes the ego's priority.
For the central concern of this essay, Husserl's contribution and limitation are equally striking. The contribution: he elevated relations (intersubjective relations) to the core of transcendental philosophy, making them necessary conditions for the constitution of world-meaning. This is a major breakthrough from the Cartesian-Kantian tradition. The limitation: he still starts from the isolated ego, treating relations as "constituted products" of self-consciousness rather than a primordial dimension preceding the self. Relations have been "recalled" here, but have not yet been granted genuine primacy.
Section Two: Heidegger — "Being-with" as Existential Structure and Its Retreat
One: The Revolution of Being and Time — Dasein and World
If Husserl still remained within the framework of philosophy of consciousness, then Martin Heidegger's Being and Time (Sein und Zeit, 1927) represents a more thorough paradigm shift. Heidegger no longer asked "how consciousness constitutes objects," but asked "the meaning of Being." This question led him to the existential analytic of "Dasein" — an analytic that from the outset rejected the Cartesian subject-object dichotomy.
Heidegger's core insight: Dasein does not first exist as an isolated "subject" and then enter into relations with "objects." Rather, Dasein's original mode of being is "Being-in-the-world" (In-der-Welt-sein). In §12 of Being and Time, he wrote:
"The expression 'Being-in-the-world' designates a unitary phenomenon. This primary starting point must be seen as a whole. It cannot be broken down into components that can be assembled — such as a thing called 'Dasein' and another thing called 'world,' and then asking how they 'relate.'" (Sein und Zeit, p. 53)
This assertion itself contains a profound critique of the traditional question of relations. Traditional metaphysics always first posits isolated substances (subject and object, mind and world), and then asks how they "relate." Heidegger pointed out that this mode of questioning is itself a concealment — because it presupposes the independence of the relata prior to the relation. In fact, Dasein and world are inseparable in their primordiality: there is no Dasein without world, and no world without Dasein.
This insight opened an entirely new space for ontological relations. If Dasein and world are two inseparable moments of the unitary structure "Being-in-the-world," then their relation is not external and derivative, but internal and constitutive. The relation ("in") precedes the separation of the relata (Dasein, world).
Two: Being-with — The Existential Structure of Dasein
Heidegger extended this insight to Dasein's relation with others. In §§25-27 of Being and Time, he proposed the core concept of "Being-with" (Mitsein). His argument: Dasein's Being is not only Being-in-the-world, but is always already Being-with others. He wrote:
"The clarification of Being toward others has already shown: the Others encountered in Dasein's 'world' have the same mode of Being as Dasein itself — they are there too, and co-there.… On this basis, Dasein's world is a with-world (Mitwelt). Being-in (In-Sein) is Being-with (Mitsein) others. The Others' independent Being-within-the-world is co-Dasein (Mitdasein)." (Sein und Zeit, p. 118)
This formulation is extremely powerful. "Being-with" is not a social attribute added after existence, not a "relation type" in Dasein's empirical life — it is Dasein's most primordial ontological determination. Heidegger even asserted: even when Dasein is factically alone, its mode of Being is still "Being-with." He wrote:
"Even when Dasein is factically alone, its mode of Being is still Being-with.… Solitude is a deficient mode of Being-with; the very possibility of solitude is precisely proof of Being-with." (Sein und Zeit, p. 120)
This assertion means: loneliness is not the absence of Being-with, but a modified mode of Being-with. Loneliness is possible precisely because Dasein is essentially Being-with others, and loneliness manifests itself in the absence, distortion, or refusal of this Being-with. A being that had never been with others — if such a being could be conceived — would never experience "loneliness," just as a being that had never seen light would never experience "darkness."
Heidegger further distinguished two fundamental modes of Being-with. In §26, he discussed two extreme possibilities of Dasein's relation to others: "leaping-in" (einspringen) and "leaping-ahead" (vorausspringen).
"Leaping-in" means I do something for the other, thereby taking over the other's "care" (Sorge). In this relation, I take responsibility for the other's existence, enabling the other to disengage from their own existence. Heidegger considered this the most common form of everyday Being-with — it appears as "concern," but is actually a deprivation of the other's autonomy.
"Leaping-ahead" means I help the other return to their own "potentiality-for-Being" (Seinkönnen), letting the other assume responsibility for their own existence. This relation is not taking over, but "releasing" the other into their own freedom. Heidegger wrote:
"This care is not leaping-in for the Other, but leaping-ahead, making the Other aware of their own potentiality-for-Being in care, and freely assuming this potentiality." (Sein und Zeit, p. 122)
This distinction shows that Heidegger not only acknowledged the primordiality of relations, but attempted to evaluate the quality of relations ontologically. Not all Being-with is the same; Being-with can unfold across a broad spectrum between "depriving the other's freedom" and "enabling the other's freedom."
Three: The "They" and Falling — The Everyday Mode of Being-with
However, Heidegger's concrete analysis of everyday Being-with carries a heavily critical tone. In §27, he described how Dasein in everydayness is dominated by the "they" (das Man):
"In everydayness, Dasein is not itself, but the they-self.… The they enjoins how we enjoy; the they prescribes how we read, see, and judge literature and art; the they dictates how we withdraw from the crowd; the they decides what is 'outrageous.' This they is no definite person, but everyone — though not as a sum — it prescribes the mode of Being of everyday Dasein." (Sein und Zeit, pp. 126-127)
This analysis reveals a specific mode of Being-with: under the dominion of the "they," Dasein loses its authenticity, becoming an anonymous, leveled-off, drifting being. This Being-with is not genuine relation, but a "fallen" form of relation — Dasein is "with" others, but this "withness" flattens all differences and suppresses all authentic encounter.
It is noteworthy that Heidegger here touched upon an important dimension of relations: relations can be inauthentic. Being-with does not automatically mean genuine encounter; it can also mean mutual alienation, mutual objectification, mutual falling. This insight is crucial for a mature relational ontology — it reminds us that acknowledging the primordiality of relations is only the first step; analyzing the internal quality of relations, distinguishing authentic and inauthentic relational modes, is equally indispensable.
Yet Heidegger's analysis of the "they" also poses a potential problem: he seems to treat everyday Being-with as altogether fallen and inauthentic. This makes authentic relations — those capable of leaping-ahead, of enabling Dasein's return to itself — appear extremely rare, even nearly impossible. In Being and Time, Heidegger offers no concrete phenomenological description or example of authentic Being-with. "Leaping-ahead" is proposed as a mode of Being-with, but how it is realized in concrete life remains unelucidated.
Four: Retreat after the Turn — The Disappearance of the Being-with Dimension
More crucially, after the "turn" (Kehre) of the 1930s, Heidegger gradually abandoned the existential analysis of "Being-with" from Being and Time. In later works — especially Contributions to Philosophy (Of the Event) (Beiträge zur Philosophie (Vom Ereignis), 1936-38) — his focus shifted from Dasein's existential structure to the history of "Being itself."
This turn had its internal philosophical motivation. Heidegger gradually came to believe that Being and Time was still too "subjectivist" — starting from Dasein to ask about Being still carried residues of transcendental philosophy. He sought to transcend this limitation, thinking directly from "Being" itself, about how Being self-discloses and self-conceals. In this new framework, "the event" (Ereignis) became the core concept — it refers to the event of "mutual belonging" between Being and the essence of human beings.
The concept of "the event" itself carries strong relational implications. Being is not some static substrate, but an event that occurs in relation to human beings; human beings are not self-sufficient substances, but beings who receive their essence in the call of Being. The relation between Being and human beings is internal and mutually constitutive — this is closer to a relational ontology than the "Being-with" of Being and Time.
Yet the problem is: Heidegger concentrated this relation almost exclusively between "Being and human beings," marginalizing relations "among human beings." In the Contributions to Philosophy, we find almost no analysis of concrete interpersonal relations, social relations, or historical relations. Heidegger's concerns are grand themes like "the flight of the gods," "the abandonment of Being," "the enframing of technology"; everyday relations among people seem no longer worthy of thought.
This "retreat" was not accidental. Heidegger consistently believed that asking about relations at the level of "beings" (between persons, between persons and things, between things and things) remains "unultimate" — it stays at the ontic level without reaching Being itself. In the Letter on Humanism (1946), he wrote explicitly:
"Thinking must first learn to dwell in the truth of Being, rather than establishing connections among beings." (Wegmarken, GA 9, p. 313)
This stance led to a paradoxical result: although Heidegger revealed the existential structure of "Being-with," he failed to develop it into a concrete, social relational ontology. He opened the door toward relational ontology, but paused at the threshold before turning to another path — a path leading toward meditation on "the mystery of Being" rather than description of "the web of relations."
For the central concern of this essay, Heidegger's contribution and limitation are equally profound. The contribution: he established relations (Being-with) as an existential structure of Dasein, rejecting the traditional metaphysical presupposition that "substances first, then relations." The limitation: he could not find legitimate space for concrete relational analysis within the framework of "the ontological difference," ultimately letting this dimension quietly recede in his later philosophy. Relations were recalled here and given unprecedented importance — but then "suspended," as if concrete articulation of relations would contaminate the purity of thought.
Section Three: Sartre — The Conflictual Ontology of the Other's Look
One: From Being-with to the Look — Sartre's Alternative Starting Point
Jean-Paul Sartre's analysis of relations in Being and Nothingness (L'Être et le Néant, 1943) contrasts sharply with Heidegger's. Where Heidegger emphasized the primordial unity of "Being-with," Sartre emphasized the fundamental rupture brought by "the Look." For Sartre, relations are not primordial harmony, but primordial conflict.
Sartre's starting point was a dual critique of Husserl and Heidegger. In Part Three, Chapter One of Being and Nothingness, "The Existence of Others," he systematically reviewed previous solutions to the problem of the other and pointed out their common deficiency: they all attempted to solve the problem of the other at the epistemological level, neglecting the ontological shock when the other encounters me.
For Husserl, Sartre's criticism was: Husserl's intersubjectivity theory ultimately failed to escape solipsism. Because Husserl's other remains a "constituted product for me," the other's alterity is ultimately absorbed by the transcendental ego. Sartre wrote:
"Husserl reduces existence to a series of meanings; the only connection he can establish is one of knowledge. Thus, like Kant, he cannot escape solipsism." (L'Être et le Néant, p. 273)
For Heidegger, Sartre's criticism was more complex. On the one hand, he acknowledged that Heidegger's "Being-with" transcends Husserl's solipsism by establishing the relation with others as an existential structure of Dasein. On the other hand, he pointed out that Heidegger's "Being-with" is an "indifferent mutuality" — it describes the relation between Dasein and others as a neutral, symmetrical "co-existence" but cannot explain the concrete tensions and conflicts within this relation. Sartre wrote:
"Heidegger's 'Being-with' is an anonymous, faceless existential dimension. It describes the coordinated movement of a rowing crew, not my concrete encounter with Pierre. In 'Being-with,' the other is reduced to an impersonal 'They,' not the concrete individual who looks at me and objectifies me." (L'Être et le Néant, p. 282)
What Sartre sought to do was to pull the problem of the other out of epistemology and abstract existential analysis, and place it back into concrete, living encounter. And the prototype of such encounter is "the Look" (le regard).
Two: The Ontological Force of the Look — From For-itself to For-others
Sartre's analysis of the Look is one of the most famous passages in Being and Nothingness. He invites us to imagine the following scene: I am peering through a keyhole into a room. At this moment, I am pure "for-itself" (pour-soi) — I am entirely immersed in my action, my consciousness directed at the scene in the room, with no mediating self-reflection. I "am" my act of looking itself.
But suddenly, I hear footsteps in the corridor. Someone is coming. That person will see me — see me crouching at the keyhole. In this instant, everything changes. I realize I am being looked at. Sartre wrote:
"I now see myself because someone sees me.… The Other's look wrenches me from the situation in which I was immersed, making me aware of myself — not as the subject of pure consciousness, but as an object seen, judged, and thingified." (L'Être et le Néant, p. 310)
This is the ontological force of the Look: it tears me from my pre-reflective "for-itself" state, forcing me to become a "being-for-others" (pour-autrui). I suddenly realize that I am not the center of the world — there is an external gaze sizing me up, categorizing me, judging me, even thingifying me. Sartre used the emotion of "shame" to reveal the ontological nature of this transformation:
"Shame… is the recognition of myself before the Other. I do not feel shame because I have done something shameful; I feel shame because in the Other's look I become a 'shameful person.'" (L'Être et le Néant, p. 318)
This means my self-consciousness is not purely internal. It has already internalized the other's gaze. I know who I am not only through my own inner experience, but more through how others see me. The "self" of my self already harbors the other.
Sartre pushed this insight to its extreme: my primordial relation with the other is not "Being-with," but "being-looked-at." And this relation of looking is essentially conflictual. Because in the other's look, I am deprived of my freedom — I am transformed from a free, self-projecting for-itself into a fixed, defined "object." And to recover my freedom, I must in turn look at the other, reducing the other to an object.
This is what Sartre called the dialectic of "mutual objectification." He wrote:
"When I try to liberate myself from the Other's look, I in turn look at the Other. But as I look at the Other, the Other is also looking at me. Thus our relation is an eternal conflict — each person tries to reduce the other to an object, while resisting being reduced to an object by the other." (L'Être et le Néant, p. 340)
In No Exit (Huis Clos, 1944), Sartre let Garcin utter the famous line: "Hell is other people." (L'enfer, c'est les autres.) This line is not a cynical lament, but a distilled expression of Sartrean ontology: because in the other's look, I am deprived of the possibility of being myself. I am trapped within the definitions the other imposes on me, unable to escape.
Three: Relations as Conflict — The Ontology of Zero-Sum Games
Sartre's analysis profoundly revealed the dimensions of power and conflict within relations. Unlike Husserl's "harmonious co-presence" and Heidegger's "neutral Being-with," Sartre showed us: relations are not calm mutual recognition, but a struggle permeated with tension, where one side's gain is the other's loss. This insight has powerful explanatory force for understanding phenomena of domination, oppression, and alienation in social relations.
Yet Sartre's limitation is equally evident: he absolutized the conflictual dimension of relations. In his framework, the primordial relation between persons can only be conflictual. Mutual recognition, cooperation, friendship, solidarity — these are, for Sartre, either impossible, or merely temporary ceasefires in conflict, or illusions of "bad faith" (mauvaise foi).
In Part Three, Chapter Three of Being and Nothingness, "Concrete Relations with the Other," Sartre analyzed love, language, masochism, indifference, desire, hate, sadism, and other forms of relation. His conclusion: all these forms are doomed to fail. Love attempts to possess the other's freedom — to make the other freely choose to love me — but this is itself a contradiction: if the other's love is free, I can never be certain it will endure; if I want to ensure the other always loves me, I must deprive the other's freedom, but then it is no longer love. Thus, Sartre wrote:
"Love is a doomed effort — I want to become the object freely chosen by a beloved, but this freedom of choice precisely makes it impossible for me ever to be certain of being loved." (L'Être et le Néant, p. 432)
Similarly, friendship, solidarity, collective action — these too, for Sartre, cannot escape the dialectic of mutual objectification. Even in the most intimate cooperation, each person is still looking at the other, still being looked at by the other. Conflict is primordial and irreducible; harmony is derivative and temporary.
The root of this conclusion lies in Sartre's ontological presupposition: the split between for-itself (consciousness) and being-for-others (the looked-at self) is irreconcilable. For-itself is pure negation, freedom, transcendence; being-for-others is fixed, thingified, defined. These two dimensions can never be unified — I can never simultaneously be a pure free subject and a concrete self recognized by others. Therefore, any attempt to seek unity in relations is doomed to fail.
If Sartre had seriously considered "reciprocity" rather than "the Look" as the primordial mode of relations, his existentialism would have displayed a entirely different face. In reciprocal relations, the other's look need not be an objectification — it can be a recognition, an invitation, a summons toward shared creation. When two musicians improvise together, they look at each other, listen to each other, but this looking is not objectifying the other, but jointly participating in a musical generative process that transcends both. In such relations, freedom is not deprived but shared and amplified.
Sartre's framework cannot accommodate this possibility, because from the outset he defined freedom as absolute individuality — "for-itself" is solitary, unsharable. If freedom itself is relational — if my freedom can only be realized in relation with others — then Sartre's entire conflictual ontology needs to be reexamined.
Four: Sartre's Contribution and Blind Spot — The First Acknowledgment of Relational Force
Despite these limitations, Sartre's contribution is indelible. In Western philosophical history, he was virtually the first thinker to describe relations (encounter with the other) as an ontological force capable of altering a being's existential structure. Before Sartre, relations were either degraded to accidents (Aristotle), epistemologized (Kant), or reduced to a neutral dimension of existence (Heidegger's early Being-with). Sartre showed us: relations have force — they can tear open the self's world, overturn the self's center, reshape the self's mode of being.
This insight is a crucial step toward relational ontology. It means: relations are not some "optional" attribute appended to substances; they can alter the being of entities themselves. When I say "I am looked at by the other," I am not describing an external event, but describing a radical transformation of my own existential structure.
Yet Sartre understood this force only as negative — relations are threat, deprivation, conflict. He failed to see that this force can also be positive — relations can be enabling, constituting, co-creating. This blind spot made Sartre's relational theory a "halfway revolution": he acknowledged the ontological force of relations, but locked that force within a zero-sum framework. To complete this revolution, another pair of eyes was needed — eyes capable of seeing the generative, reciprocal, and creative dimensions of relations. Those eyes belonged to Merleau-Ponty.
Chapter Four: Merleau-Ponty — The Unfinished Path toward Relational Ontology
Section One: The Metaphysics of "Flesh" — The "Between" as Primordial Element
One: From Phenomenology of Perception to the Ontology of Flesh
Maurice Merleau-Ponty's (1908–1961) philosophical trajectory was a path from the phenomenology of perception toward the ontology of flesh. His early masterpiece, Phenomenology of Perception (Phénoménologie de la Perception, 1945), already contained a profound critique of the traditional subject-object dichotomy. Through phenomenological description of perceptual experience, Merleau-Ponty revealed: the perceiving subject is not a disembodied pure consciousness, but a "lived body" (corps vécu); the perceived object is not a pure object waiting to be known, but a field of meaning disclosed and "appropriated" in the body's perceptive activity.
In Phenomenology of Perception, Merleau-Ponty wrote:
"The body is our general medium for having a world. Sometimes it is limited to actions necessary for the preservation of life, sometimes it sets itself a world through these actions… The body is the anchor we cast into the world." (Phénoménologie de la Perception, p. 171)
This insight already transcended Husserl's analysis of transcendental consciousness. The body is not an "object" of consciousness, nor a "tool" of consciousness; it is our primordial way of Being-in-the-world. Without body, there is no world; without world, the body cannot understand itself. The body's relation with the world is not an external relation between two substances, but a primordial "intertwining" — every bodily movement is already a response to the world, every aspect of the world is already a product of bodily perception.
Yet Merleau-Ponty, in his later thought, realized that Phenomenology of Perception still retained certain residues of dualism. "Body" and "world," "perceiver" and "perceived" — though redefined, their distinction itself still implied a duality. To transcend this duality thoroughly required a more primordial dimension — one prior to the subject-object differentiation, one that is both perceiving and perceivable, both active and passive.
This dimension, Merleau-Ponty called "flesh" (chair) in his unfinished posthumous work, The Visible and the Invisible (Le Visible et l'Invisible, 1964).
Two: Flesh — The Element of Being
What is "flesh"? Merleau-Ponty first clarified: it is not flesh in the physiological sense. It is not matter, not spirit, not substance. It is the "prototype of Being," a certain "element" of the world. He wrote:
"Flesh is not matter, not spirit, not substance. To designate it, we would need the old term 'element'… Flesh is the 'concrete' element of Being, the stuff that makes things appear." (Le Visible et l'Invisible, p. 184)
The term "element" here comes from pre-Socratic philosophy — Empedocles' water, fire, earth, air. These elements are not matter in the modern chemical sense, but the basic "qualities" of the world, the original styles of Being. Merleau-Ponty borrowed this concept to indicate: flesh is not a being within the world, but the "way" in which the world exists. It is the dimension to which all beings belong, the shared tissue that makes perceiving and being-perceived possible.
Merleau-Ponty used "flesh" to describe this primordial dimension because bodily experience provides the best entry point to it. In my own body, I directly experience a unique duality: my body is both perceiving (as perceiving subject) and perceivable (as physical object). When my right hand touches my left hand, this duality reaches its extreme: the right hand is the toucher, the left hand is the touched; yet simultaneously, the left hand is also touching the right hand, and the right hand is also being touched by the left. In this instant, the boundaries between "active" and "passive," "subject" and "object" blur, and a wonderful mutual permeation occurs.
Merleau-Ponty treated this experience as a phenomenological clue toward "flesh." Flesh is precisely such an existential dimension: within it, perceiving and being-perceived, active and passive, self and world are two inseparable faces of the same reality. He wrote:
"My body and the world are made of the same flesh.… My body's perception of the world is the world perceiving itself through my body." (Le Visible et l'Invisible, p. 185)
This assertion is revolutionary. It means: perception is not the "representation" of an object by a subject, but the self-disclosure of Being. When I see a tree, this is not "my consciousness" "constituting" the tree's image, but the tree's visibility and my visual capacity meeting in the shared element of "flesh." The tree sees itself through my eyes — just as I perceive myself as a seer through the tree's visibility.
This "reversibility" is the core of the concept of flesh. Within flesh, every being is both perceiving and perceivable, both active and passive. Being is not a collection of isolated substances, but a "web of flesh" that mutually perceives, mutually touches, mutually constitutes.
Section Two: Reversibility and Intertwining — The Basic Model of Relational Dynamics
One: The Left Hand Touching the Right Hand — The Prototype of Reversibility
In the chapter "The Intertwining — The Chiasm" of The Visible and the Invisible, Merleau-Ponty provided his most concentrated phenomenological description of "reversibility" (réversibilité). He repeatedly returned to the seemingly simple experience of "the left hand touching the right hand," mining profound ontological implications from it.
When my right hand touches an object, I am pure toucher. My consciousness is directed at the object, feeling its texture, temperature, shape. At this moment, the right hand as the touching body part seems to "disappear" — it is unremarked, merely the organ of perception.
But when my left hand touches the right hand that is touching an object, the situation fundamentally changes. The right hand continues touching the object while being touched by the left hand. It is now simultaneously toucher and touched. Merleau-Ponty wrote:
"When my left hand touches my right hand that is touching an object, a wonderful transposition occurs between the toucher and the touched. The right hand falls from the status of toucher to that of the touched, yet it does not entirely lose its status as toucher — it is still touching the object, still retaining the sensation of touching the object. Thus, within the same bodily part, active and passive, perceiving and being-perceived coexist and intertwine." (Le Visible et l'Invisible, p. 194)
This coexistence is not a simple superposition of two states. It is not "the right hand as toucher" plus "the right hand as touched." Merleau-Ponty emphasized that these two states are inseparably "intertwined" (entrelacs) together. The right hand feels itself being touched while touching the object — this "simultaneity" is not temporal alternation but structural inseparability.
More importantly, this reversibility is not perfect symmetry. When my left hand touches my right hand, there is a subtle gap, an irreconcilable difference, between the right hand's "sensation of being touched" and its "sensation of touching the object." Merleau-Ponty called this difference "encroachment" (empiètement) or "spread" (écart). Reversibility is not identity — the toucher and the touched can never fully coincide. Yet this spread is not a defect but the condition that makes reversibility possible. Precisely because this subtle spread exists, touching and being-touched can coexist as two faces of the same body.
Two: From Body to World — The Universalization of Reversibility
Merleau-Ponty extended this intrabodily experience of reversibility to the relations between body and world, self and other, visible and invisible. He maintained that all these relations possess the same structure of reversibility.
Take vision as an example. When I see a tree, I am not merely the seer. In a certain sense, I am also "seen" by the tree. This is not mystical animism, but rather: the tree's visibility "demands" my gaze; the tree's mode of being is "being-seen," and my mode of being is "being-able-to-see." The occurrence of the visual event is the meeting of the tree's visibility and my visual capacity in the shared element of "flesh." Merleau-Ponty wrote:
"The seer sees only through being seen.… There is a fundamental reciprocity between the visible and the seer: the seer can see because he himself is visible; the visible can be seen because it inherently possesses 'seeability.'" (Le Visible et l'Invisible, p. 177)
The same structure applies to the relation between self and other. I and the other are not two enclosed consciousness-substances trying to cross the gap between them through some mysterious "empathy." Rather, I and the other are two folds, two expressions, of the same "flesh." My body and the other's body are primordially already mutually sensible, mutually visible. When I see the other's angry expression, I am not "inferring" the other's inner state — I directly see anger on the face, just as I feel anger on my own face. This direct perception is possible because I and the other share the same "flesh" — the same dimension where visible and invisible intertwine.
Merleau-Ponty even proposed the concept of "intercorporeity" (intercorporéité): the self's body and the other's body are not two separated substances, but two nodes in the same flesh-field. He wrote:
"The other's body and my body are two variants of the same element of being.… Before I can say 'I,' there is already an anonymous, pre-personal 'flesh' that is neither me nor the other, but our shared dimension of being." (Le Visible et l'Invisible, p. 220)
This insight marks a fundamental transcendence of the traditional problem of the other. Husserl started from the transcendental ego, attempting to "constitute" the other; Heidegger established Being-with as an existential structure of Dasein, but failed to develop concrete analysis; Sartre treated the other as a threat to the self. Merleau-Ponty showed us: self and other are not pre-existing substances that then enter into relations; rather, within the relation — within flesh — self and other are able to differentiate, to appear.
Three: Red — A Paradigm of the Priority of Relations over Attributes
In The Visible and the Invisible, Merleau-Ponty used "red" — a seemingly simple perceptual attribute — to demonstrate the concrete operation of his relational ontology. He wrote:
"This red is what it is only by connecting with the other reds around it, with the other colors it dominates or attracts, with the blues or greens it suspends or that suspend it. In short, it is a certain node of the color world.… A color is never merely a color, but a variant of a certain dimension of being." (Le Visible et l'Invisible, p. 174)
This analysis marks a genuine paradigm reversal. In the traditional substance-attribute framework, "red" is an accident of a substance (an object) — an quality appended to the object, capable of being recognized independently of other colors. But Merleau-Ponty pointed out: red is never isolated. Any specific red — the red of a rose, the red of blood, the red of sunset — is what it is precisely because it occupies a specific position within the overall field of colors. This position is constituted by its differences, contrasts, transitions, and resonances with other colors.
Thus, red is not an attribute of a substance, but a "node" in the relational field. Relations (the mutual reference, mutual differentiation among colors) are not appended to red — they constitute the very meaning of red as red. Without relations with other colors, red could not be perceived as "red" at all.
This paradigm has universal methodological significance. It tells us: what we typically consider "substance attributes" — color, shape, size, texture — are in fact crystallizations of the relational field. They are not pre-existing, self-sufficient qualities, but are generated and sustained within the dynamic intertwining of relations. Relations precede attributes, just as relations precede substances.
Section Three: The Unfinished Revolution and Legacy Awaiting Continuation
One: The Visible and the Invisible — An Unfinished Symphony
On May 3, 1961, Merleau-Ponty died suddenly of a heart attack, at the age of 53. On his desk remained a large quantity of manuscripts for The Visible and the Invisible — a work he had begun writing in 1959, intended to become the summit of his philosophy. These manuscripts included the completed first three chapters, numerous drafts of unfinished chapters, and dozens of pages of "working notes."
Reading these posthumous manuscripts, we feel both the磅礴 force of thought and its unfinished state. In the completed portions, Merleau-Ponty, with astonishing insight, sketched the contours of "flesh," "reversibility," and "intertwining." But on many key questions, he provided only exploratory, poetic, even fragmentary formulations. For example: where are the exact boundaries of the concept of "flesh"? How does it differ from traditional "matter" or "spirit"? How can reversibility be formalized, rather than remaining merely a phenomenological description? How does intercorporeity concretely operate in social relations, historical processes, and political practice? These questions receive only preliminary exploration in the posthumous manuscripts.
Merleau-Ponty's early death made this work an "unfinished symphony" — it has a magnificent opening and profound themes, but many movements exist only as drafts, or as mere fragments. This has left enormous space for interpretation, and enormous theoretical tasks, for subsequent researchers.
Two: Unfinished Work — From Phenomenological Description to Formal Theory
For the central concern of this essay — the construction of relational dynamics — Merleau-Ponty's unfinished work holds special importance. He provided the most profound phenomenological foundation and the most inspiring conceptual tools (flesh, reversibility, intertwining) for relational ontology, but he did not complete the task of systematizing these insights.
Specifically, Merleau-Ponty's legacy presents the following unfinished aspects:
First, the ontological unfinished. The concept of "flesh" has been proposed, but its relations with other ontological concepts in the Western philosophical tradition (such as Aristotle's "substance," Spinoza's "substance," Heidegger's "Being") remain to be clarified. Flesh is an "element," but how does this element coordinate with the concepts of matter, energy, and information in the scientific worldview? What is the ontological structure of flesh — what are its basic determinations? In what sense does it "exist"? These questions have only suggestive answers in The Visible and the Invisible.
Second, the methodological unfinished. Merleau-Ponty's method was primarily phenomenological description. His analysis of "the left hand touching the right hand" is a paradigmatic application of the phenomenological method. But phenomenological description has its inherent limitations: it depends on first-person experience and is difficult to formalize and quantify. If flesh is truly "the element of the world," then it should be not only describable, but also formally modelable, even empirically investigable. Merleau-Ponty did not provide such methodological tools. He opened a door, but did not furnish a map for passing through it.
Third, the dynamic unfinished. Merleau-Ponty emphasized concepts like "intertwining," "encroachment," and "spread," which imply a certain dynamics within flesh — not a static structure, but a dynamic, generative process. But what are the concrete mechanisms of this dynamics? How do relations "emerge" from flesh's primordial intertwining? How do stable things (physical objects, social institutions, personal identities) crystallize from the fluxing relational field? Merleau-Ponty did not answer these questions. His philosophy is a topology of "Being," not a dynamics.
Fourth, the applied unfinished. Merleau-Ponty during his lifetime attempted to apply his phenomenological method to art (Cézanne's Doubt, Eye and Mind), language (On the Phenomenology of Language), and politics (Humanism and Terror). But he did not systematically apply his later ontology of flesh to these domains. How does intercorporeity help us understand social relations? How does reversibility illuminate the operation of power? How does intertwining explain historical change? These questions all await later researchers.
Three: Merleau-Ponty's Position — The Beginning of a Revolution
Despite these unfinished aspects, Merleau-Ponty occupies a unique position in the genealogy of thought traced by this essay. He is the first thinker in Western philosophical history to truly step beyond substance-centrism and construct an ontology with relations as primordial.
Let us review this genealogy. Parmenides excluded relations from the Way of Truth, where even the concept itself was unnamed. Aristotle categorized relations, yet firmly placed them under the shadow of substance. Scholastic philosophy refined the analysis of relations, yet further degraded their ontological status through the designation "the weakest accident." Descartes transformed relations into judgments, making them subjective activities of the intellect. Kant transfigured relations into transcendental forms, insulating them completely from the thing-in-itself. Leibnitz pushed the logic of relations to an extreme, yet could only simulate relations with a theological patch of "pre-established harmony." Husserl elevated relations (intersubjectivity) to the transcendental core, yet never relinquished the priority of the transcendental ego. Heidegger established relations (Being-with) as an existential structure, yet let this dimension recede in his later turn. Sartre acknowledged the ontological force of relations, but locked it within irreconcilable conflict.
Among these thinkers, each made a unique contribution to the question of relations, but each also halted at a certain decisive point. Merleau-Ponty was the first — and so far the only — thinker to genuinely unfold "relations precede substances" as the first principle of philosophy. In his concept of "flesh," relations are no longer bonds between substances, but the primordial field where substances appear. In his concept of "reversibility," relations are no longer static structures, but dynamic, bidirectional, tension-filled generative processes. In his concept of "intertwining," relations are no longer clearly distinguishable lines, but multilayered, irreducibly thick weaves.
This revolution is profound. It provides us with an entirely new ontological language, enabling us to articulate those dimensions obscured by substance-centrism for two thousand years. But this revolution is also unfinished. Merleau-Ponty pointed us in the right direction, but left the opening of this path to later generations.
Preview of upcoming content: The final part will first diagnose the deep roots of Western philosophy's silence concerning relations — this silence stems not only from metaphysical presuppositions, but is intimately connected to a deep ontological anxiety about identity, certainty, and control. Next, we will analyze the crisis-consequences of this silence in contemporary technological society: the algorithmic quantification of relations is leading to an unprecedented "relational alienation." Finally, this essay will propose "relational dynamics" as the theoretical program of response, articulating its foundational tasks at the ontological, mathematical, and engineering levels. The age of silence is ending; the thickness of relations is appearing.
Liangzhi, April 2026
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