What is perhaps for me most notable about Markus Gabriel’s WHY THE WORLD DOES NOT EXIST is that I came almost completely around to its general line of argumentation as well as the efficacy of its reasoning despite having spent much time during my reading of the first quarter of the book (or thereabouts) nearly convinced that I absolutely hated it. There were a couple of principal reason for this disfavour in the early going. These reasons were, I believe, legitimate. Let’s take a moment to consider a passage of Gabriel’s from fairly early in the introduction. We might call this passage something akin to a thesis statement. “There are planets, my dreams, evolution, the toilet flush, hair loss, hopes, elementary particles, and even unicorns on the far side of the moon, to mention only a few examples. The principle that the world does not exist entails that everything else exists. For this reason, I can already announce that I will claim, as my first principle, that everything exists except one thing: the world.” The crux of the point seems worthy. I would imagine it a proposition for which a convincing case might well be made. But the delivery is (or at least was) slightly irksome to me. It’s an issue of rhetoric. Of course, the invocation of “unicorns on the far side of the moon” has given the folks at Polity, the publisher of this English translation of the book, the inspiration for their quite charming cover. I like the cover. I liked the cover, and I liked the idea that an exhaustive case can be made that literally anything that can be conceived of exists, the world being the only exception; these are two of the reasons I bought the book. But this business with unicorns on the far side of the moon (later they will be presented again, augmented with the addition of police uniforms) is characteristic of a kind of queasily cutesy approach to metaphor, simile, and extrapolation by/of example. I am not going to overburden you with examples from the text. Let me just include one more, this one from the first chapter, “What is this Actually: the World?” Here we find another analogous bit of silly sophistry, Gabriel very much performing the imagining of a hypothetical “mereological sum of all properties” consisting of “my left hand, Angela Merkel’s favorite book and the most expensive Currywurst south of Frankfurt, plus everything else.” Too much of this stuff gets annoying fast. You start to imagine that some artificial intelligence prototype or alien from another dimension has come to you believing it can convince you it is human by wearing a loud Hawaiian shirt. Perhaps one might also recall unconvincingly undercover Steve Buscemi’s “How do you do, fellow kids?” from the television comedy series 30 ROCK. Of course, I am aware that my putting matters thusly brings me dangerously close to practicing the exact same rhetorical method I am critiquing. Perhaps I find it all the more vexing for being contagious. Markus Gabriel is not the only contemporary philosopher, theorist, or critic who utilizes this particular variety of device. I have noted, for example, its regular utilization in the writings of Terry Eagleton, and this has got to be considered one of the reasons that I have essentially decided that I am not going to be reading more Terry Eagleton. It would seem very likely that part of why I grew increasingly fond of WHY THE WORLD DOES NOT EXIST is that Gabriel uses this particular sort of device less frequently in the later, more rewarding sections of the book. Another thing I objected to in the early sections of WHY THE WORLD DOES NOT EXIST was the author’s general tendency toward trite expedience, much of this involving what I perceived to be fatuous strawman arguments, unacceptable reductions, and suppositions that certain problems have been reconciled without the author believing he has to demonstrate that this is satisfactorily the case. Gabriel asserts that postmodernism was/is a form of constructivism, in the sense that postmodern theory would appear fundamentally conditioned by the precept “that there are absolutely no facts in themselves and that we construct all facts through our multifaceted forms of discourse and scientific methods.” He does not make the case that there is in fact an overarching body of postmodern theory and he fails to address it specifically in any discernibly existing context. This is all to common today, and we might tend to associate such dismissive claims with a certain odious psychology professor with a marked online presence. If anybody does claim what Gabriel would have so-called postmodernists claiming, and if they do so without qualification, then I would agree that they should be called to task for doing so. Gabriel does not properly call anybody in particular to task. I do not see the postulate that Gabriel sees operative in postmodern theory as a central presupposition in the works of poststructuralist theorists like Derrida and Foucault. In fact, when Gabriel goes on to say that scientific method is legitimate for establishing truths though compromised when using the truths gleaned from the practice of method to serve an overarching worldview (or world-picture), I would be inclined to suggest that he finds himself extremely close to Foucault. There are other examples of dubious expediences of argumentation. When Gabriel makes a distinction between ontology (related to being) and metaphysics (related to the true hidden nature of the world), I don’t think he does so in good faith. Later, Gabriel will call Hegel the ultimate early-modern metaphysician on account of the concept of the “absolute idea.” There are many who would argue, and with good reason, that the “absolute idea” can be situated within the domain of ontology. (Not that I am a fan of the concept of the “absolute idea.") Though the book did grow on me, and though these various examples of expedience do lead to critical insights of considerable worth, there is another argument central to WHY THE WORLD DOES NOT EXIST that I am not satisfied with, even as it reemerges in the final pages. Namely: Gabriel does not believe that everything is connected. In the introduction, he asks us to consider the worlds (plural) within worlds (again, plural) within even just a small restaurant where one may happen to dine on a given night. “Many things are connected with many other things, but it is false (in the strictest sense, actually impossible!) that everything is connected.” This is an adequate assessment if we mean that things are not all comprehensively connected within a single ‘field of sense,’ which is to say within a single comprehensive world-picture, but Gabriel is missing something crucial. He believes that—and he states this directly—the infinite is infinite, and there are also infinite perspectives on the infinite, which does not mean that all such perspectives are equally good or equally useful. Perspectives are constantly contested, and they are regularly altered or modified. Right. But with infinite fields of sense (within the context of the infinite) would there not be infinite ways of infinitely connecting elements of previously unrelated fields of sense within new fields of sense? That would be my contention. I want to believe that everything is connected. To do that, I do not believe I need a comprehensive and closed-off world-picture. Gabriel presents his project as a new or emergent philosophical system, but hardly as a complete break with precedent. He usefully borrows from many distinct domains. He calls this project “new realism,” and explains that it was born over the course of a lunch with Maurizio Ferraris in the summer of 2001. New realism arrives in the aftermath of postmodernity, a phase that had sought to dispel the dominance of metaphysical illusions. Okay. Maybe provisionally sort of okay. It was metaphysics that gave us the world in the first place. Gabriel wants to be done with the world, on account of its not existing, but he also wants truth and sense and things in themselves. (So, we might add, did folks like Gilles Deleuze.) New realism is founded upon the conviction that not only are “human existence and knowledge not a collective hallucination,” but that “it is simply not the case that we are always or almost always mistaken." This does not mean that we are never mistaken, rather that mistakes can be called mistakes, proven to be such and argued about, even if they remain actual true existing things called mistakes (as true as unicorns we might imagine existing on the far side of the moon). The constructivist approach, which achieves its first triumphant modern moment with Kant rather than the so-called postmodernist horde, only permits things to exist as apperceptive representations, but new realism, something like a complementarity rather than a constructivist model, holds that “thoughts about facts exist with the same right as the facts at which our thought are directed.” Gabriel doesn’t want the constructivism of Kant, the monism of Spinoza (what with the world not existing), or, worst of all, the dualism of Descartes. He is a little more available to the pluralism of Leibniz’s monodology. If there were in fact a world, which there isn’t, it would have to be the living and real manifestation of Heidegger’s concept of “the domain of all domains.” Gabriel agrees that this is what the world would have to be, but as there is no such supra-domain (or super-object), the world does not and cannot exist, primarily because in cannot be found inside its domain what with nobody having access to an additional domain from which to appraise the world. The world is not there because it cannot be found in the world. We can have something like a picture of the infinite, and indeed we need the infinite because the infinite is our home, even if we are ourselves flung into a condition of existential finitude. We can formulate the infinite, but what we cannot formulate is our container, on account of there being no such container. There are infinite domains and these domains exist within various fields of sense. Here we see how Gabriel has much in common with phenomenologists and hermeneutists. He will at one point praise Hans-Georg Gadamer and the supposition that there can be truth independent of exacting method, because different truths have different fields of sense. If the beings who sense exist in a condition of plurality, this means that there are any number of provisional worldviews, and that sentient beings will operate very much in accordance with something like their own independent horizons of interpretation, which are themselves fields of sense. Now, I have already made passing reference the the odious psychology professor who hates Neo-Marxist Postmodern Relativists, so let’s note something very interesting here. Yes, Gabriel is dismissive of any kind of theory that suggests that truths of any kind are purely human constructions. He also completely rejects the idea that all truths are equally valid (or valid to the same extent and in the same manner), such that all truth is relative. However, I cannot think of fields of sense without thinking of Einstein and the theory of relativity, precisely because of the fact that any given field of sense requires the appearance of the domain or the field, which Einstein would call its frame of reference. The frame allows for the intelligibility of, and/or for legitimately meaningful calculations germane to the correlation of elements within the field, domain, or frame. It is interesting to me that though Gabriel does occasionally mention Einstein he never does make mention of this particular correspondence. For Gabriel, truths exists relationally between objects or things within a field of sense and the thing being in possession of spirit and thereby capable of sense. Truth does not exist in the brain or body of the being of sense. This means that the field of sense is not implemented by the being of sense. Rather, it appears or presents itself to sense within a field of sense. Nevertheless, the appearance of the field of sense is a grounding operation, a provisional worlding. The word ‘world’ can present itself here in its provisional sense, but within the context of a Leibnitz-like pluralism rather than a Spinozist infinite substance-type monism (which is implicitly metaphysical from Gabriel’s standpoint, substance here becoming super-object). Anyway, as established, as Gabriel proceeds along, I am finding myself more and more taken with his reasoning. At a certain point I am beginning to realize that, having earlier believed I might all but hate it, I maybe kind of love WHY THE WORLD DOES NOT EXIST. This produces a curious and altogether agreeable eventuation. Though I had previously found his rhetorical expediences and strawman arguments dubious at best, the best stuff in the whole book, most of it consigned to the fifth chapter, “The Meaning of Religion,” involves, in a manner already being set up late in the fourth chapter, a taking to task of zealous scientist atheists the likes of Richard Dawkins et al. Now, I am not a religious person, nor do I believe in an actual Heavenly Father situated up above who has a special interests in the beings and things he created. Still, I am totally on board with Gabriel here. I couldn’t agree more. Having already agreed that if we imagine unicorns on the far side of the moon then they exist, I am also a person who has, in the past, when asked how a reasonable person can believe in God (or gods), countered with the question as to how a reasonable person can pose a question about how a thing he, she, or what-have-you doesn’t believe exists, but which has just been mentioned, exists? God exists, gods exist, but in a particular field of sense, and it is the historical persistence of these fields of sense that point to the centrality of the function God performs for beings of sense flung randomly into circumscribed existence within the context of an infinite the full extent of which cannot be actively experienced by any living being. “For no scientific investigation will ever be able to free us from having to renegotiate the rules by which we live in order, hopefully, to place them on a more rational foundation.” Physics simply cannot replace the function God is called to perform in a separate field of sense, and “we should not identify the meaning of religion with a set of superstitious beliefs, as this will make us blind to the very need articulated in religion to the present day.” I have always know that God exists because God is a concept people discuss, the concept serving a function. I have also had a tendency to to tell people that I think "the world” is something we impose on the phenomena we encounter. Gabriel has convinced me that what I ought to say is “a world” rather than “the world" (any world being one of infinitely many) and that “we impose” is probably badly put.