We Catholics talk a lot about truth, and we do so with good reason. Lately though, I written a lot more about something called alterity, a word a friend of mine thinks I made up. I’d love to take the credit, but I didn’t come up with the concept.
My fascination with alterity might raise a suspicious eyebrow here or there, for normally one hears the word alterity while treading those treacherous and poisonous swamps where dwell the dreaded deconstructionists, postmodernists, and other subversive philosophers. Yes, I admit, without reservation and without apology, that I frequent the company of these supposed enemies of truth. Indeed, they’re my kind of thinkers—they think about alterity. A lot.
Brian Treanor defines alterity as “that aspect of things, and others, that is (absolutely) unfamiliar, alien, or obscure.” Alterity refers to that to which we have no clear or direct access. Alterity itself cannot be spoken or heard, written or read. It is something that words and other human constructs cannot express.
I remember once looking into my brother’s face and being struck with the sudden realization that I did not know who he was. I had my idea of who he was, an idea that I think was basically true, but in that moment his face revealed to me the truth that I could never exhaust the full meaning of my brother. No amount of words could ever encapsulate him. There would always be something inexpressibly other in him. In this encounter with my brother, I experienced that which was familiar and unfamiliar, known and alien, clear and obscure. I experienced sameness and alterity.
Philosophers of alterity are sometimes accused of being enemies of true philosophy, villains intent on destroying tradition and truth. These philosophers don’t seem interested in the pursuit of truth or holding tight to what we know, but instead seem almost obsessed with pointing out the cracks in the road or that what we think we grasp eludes our knowledge. They don’t often write books about Truth, Goodness, or Beauty, but rather texts about what is otherwise than these things. They spend more time deconstructing than constructing or reconstructing. I more or less agree with these observations, but not with the conclusion that these thinkers are therefore enemies to be feared.
Generally speaking, these philosophers are not motivated by a passion for destruction or an obsession with our limitations. They are rather intent on affirming alterity. Whereas a metaphysician, for example, may look for the right words to describe Being, a philosopher of alterity seeks to keep the other as otherwise than being.
Instead of seeing these philosophers as enemies of truth, we might view them as having a different philosophical vocation. They respond to something other than the call of Being.
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Cross-posted.
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