4. Fourth Lecture: The “Third Self” and the Problem of Intersubjectivity

This lecture is one of my favorites, as many students fall more in love with Kant during it than they had before. However, I also reveal an interesting controversy and a subject of endless discussions I have held with many Kantians: how is Kant's moral philosophy even possible if there is no "other entity" to whom one can be responsible, assuming the author of the entire universe is the subject themselves? We explore the concept of the "third I" and discuss various plausible interpretations of this fascinating idea.

Having established the importance and consequential influence of our transcendental ego (or, as Kant calls it, the transcendental unity of apperception), we arrive at a somewhat strange situation regarding all the participants in “our story.” The metaphor of a story describing our existence is quite apt and has thus been used extensively in various contexts. When Jostein Gaarder makes his protagonist discover that they are a character in someone else’s story in Sophie’s World, Wolff explains the situation using the logic derived from the influence of authorship. Namely, what is the story of the whole universe for us?

The short answer is (according to Kant) a vast bouquet of representations about noumena. All the wisdom we are born with, encounter, learn, and memorize results from the perspective of the actuality of subjective cognition in representations of the universe and life within it. We live in a universe that, although being a noumenon in itself, is nevertheless one single universe. We construct our perception of it through a number of representations that we (more specifically, our transcendental self) author (according to a priori rules). Thus, we may infer that both figuratively and from a very “earthly” perspective, we are the authors of our entire conceptualization of that noumenal universe, along with our ideas of its contents, history, and expectations for its future. This, of course, is not the result of free will or creative imagination but is rigorously governed by our a priori rules and categories of understanding as one "author"—our transcendental self. All the objects we encounter outside of ourselves are, in principle, judgments (results of the application of our categories of understanding to the raw sensory data we receive) that we (our transcendental self) have authored as well.

Now, Wolff makes an interesting point by introducing the problematic nature of other minds in “our story.” Let us say we encounter another lovely Homo sapiens in our lives here on Earth. Who is that person to us, and what role does he play in "our story"?

There are two possible answers, both of which raise questions. As we know, the whole of nature and the perception of the world must be constructed based on the a priori rules by a transcendental ego, which means “the story” must have one author: one transcendental self. The first explanation is that “me” and “the other person” are both appearances of the same noumenal self. That, of course, raises the question of how we could both share the authorship of the story (especially since I feel as though I have sole authorship of the entire story). Alternatively, this would render Kant’s philosophy radically (and in a strange way, effectively transcendentally) solipsistic, which he probably would not want to admit.

The alternative explanation is that I and the other person are both representations of different transcendental selves and feature as representations in each other’s stories. He (or she) is a representation of another transcendental ego in my story, and I am a representation in his (or her) story. This explanation also raises questions. Namely, what is the likelihood that both “stories” are so similar—specifically, that both transcendental selves synthesize the intuitions with such exceptional similarity and synchronicity? This is especially puzzling given that they supposedly (at least as far as noumena can be evaluated) have had very different experiences through their empirical selves during their temporal existence in the world so far. Kant would probably argue that because we have the same inherent categories of understanding, a priori rules, pure concepts, and forms of intuition, we cannot help but experience the world in the same way. However, one must admit that the sameness of perceptions is often exceptional, which, according to Wolff, "corresponds roughly to Leibniz’s postulate of pre-established harmony,” referring to Leibniz’s “monads.”

The second (and possibly even more important) question this raises relates to the responsibility I, as a person, must take in my story where I am the only rational mind. If I am the only conscious self in my story, then the accountability I bear (when it comes to moral responsibility) for someone else (the other person) would not differ from the accountability I have for representations of any other sort (stone, tree, dog, etc.). When this logic is developed further, Kant's Critique of Pure Reason would potentially undermine the very foundations of his moral philosophy, such as "acting as if any other person were always at the same time an end, never merely as a means."

Strictly speaking, when it comes to interpersonal relationships, altruism, higher values as a nation, reciprocity, or personal kindness, it would be difficult to elevate an appearance to the level of a person. Kant does not make it clear in his theoretical philosophy how we should interpret his approach to intersubjectivity in this context. What Wolff hints at—and what can be inferred from reading his commentaries on both of Kant's philosophies together—is that the stronger Kant's argument is regarding us being guided by a priori rules of causality, the harder it becomes to reconcile the question of other minds in my world.

Counterarguments can, of course, be made. One might claim that Kant never explicitly denies the existence of other minds in the universe. Alternatively, one could argue that in the phrasing of the categorical imperative, Kant merely states that we should "act" as if all others were ends, not means (which does not necessarily presuppose the recognition of other conscious minds per se). However, from a psychological perspective, this still leaves the question of the ultimate object to which I ought to direct my fidelity obscure. Two things cannot be true simultaneously: that my transcendental self constructs the objective nature where there are only appearances, and that I can form a relationship with someone I recognize as a living conscious soul other than myself.

Still, perhaps the strongest case for reconciling the question of intersubjectivity in the relationship between us and the appearances of other people—and for having moral responsibility—lies in the very essence of why Kant wrote the Critique of Pure Reason: to recognize both the empirical value of the world and the need for rational thought. If one accepts that, although others appear as they are, they still exist as noumena—potential conscious minds as courageous and fascinating as we perceive ourselves—it becomes easier to treat them as "ends in themselves." Additionally, as we sense a different sort of sensation in their presence (both in terms of proximity and the way the idea of them affects our imagination) compared to sensations elicited by stones or chickens, we might allow ourselves to assume moral responsibility for such appearances more readily.

In the simplest terms, the influence of our “third self” as the “author” of our story of understanding the entire universe raises the question of “other minds” and intersubjectivity. This remains one of the more complex aspects of Kant's philosophy, as he does not seem to provide definitive answers. However, as with all great works of philosophy, this allows us the opportunity to seek and find them ourselves.