Originally written in 1938 for his minor habilitation thesis at the École normale supérieure and published in 1942, this inaugural book comprises the first of the two books that Merleau-Ponty completed in his lifetime--the second being Phenomenology of Perception, written and published in 1945 as his major doctoral thesis. In this sense, the two books are meant to be read back-to-back as prequel and sequel, because together they provide two complementary perspectives on the central topic which Merleau-Ponty pursued his entire life--the relationship between consciousness and nature, the nature of consciousness and the consciousness of nature--from the outside, a scientific perspective, the phenomenon of "behavior"; from the inside, a phenomenological perspective, the phenomenology of "perception." The Phenomenology begins by assuming that readers have already familiarized themselves with the Structure of Behavior, and so very little effort is made there to demonstrate the insufficiency of the reflex response or the constancy hypothesis, which is the work of this book.
The translation by Alden Fisher obscures the rigorous and analytical intent with which the text was written: in the original French, the book unfolds as a series of numbered propositions, each of which are explicated in subsections and further sub-subsections. Ironically, the book which introduces the idea of "structure" (imported from the Gestalt psychology of Wertheimer, Koffka, Goldstein and Köhler) to phenomenology, as it currently exists in its English form, has been stripped of its original analytical structure. This has contributed to the difficulty of Merleau-Ponty's dialectical style, which seems to meander back and forth between opposing views, following each along their paths in order to reveal their contradictions and their gaps, through which he propels himself into a descriptive phenomenological method.
The book functions largely as a critique of the ontological, methodological, and epistemological assumptions of classical science, which is meant to prepare readers to embrace the phenomenological method advanced in Phenomenology of Perception. The main target is behaviorism--the kind that dominated the early 20th century, the behaviorism of Sherrington, Pavlov, and Watson, a mechanistic, reductive, physicalist behaviorism according to which organic behavior is decomposed into atomic units, nervous reflexes, which are then joined together "partes extra partes" to recompose the total organism which we encounter in naive perception. This kind of behaviorism defines behavior as a mechanically determined response to a mosaic of environmental stimuli which act upon the organism's sensory receptors to trigger a motor response according to universal scientific laws which can be expressed in a mathematical equation.
Merleau-Ponty attempts to reveal the absurdity of such an approach by relying heavily upon the work of Gestalt psychologists (Gestalt being the German word for form or structure) who, in opposition to the behaviorists, begin not from the smallest constituent parts of the organism, but from the organism as a unified totality, whose parts are internally related to each other, and so constitute a dynamic living structure which establishes an emergent level of functioning that supercedes any attempted reduction to an assembly of juxtaposed composites (echoing Aristotle's assertion that the whole is greater than the sum of the parts). Merleau-Ponty introduces the idea by comparing the coordination of the organism's nervous system to the coordination of musical notes in a melody:
"The coordinated elements are not only coupled with each other, they constitute together, by their very union, a whole which has its proper law and which manifests it as soon as the first elements of excitation are given, just as the first notes of a melody assign a certain mode of resolution to the whole. While the notes taken separately have an equivocal signification, being capable of entering into an infinity of possible ensembles, in the melody each one is demanded by the context and contributes its part by expressing something which is not contained in any one of them and which binds them together internally. The same notes in two different melodies are not recognized as such. Inversely, the same melody can be played two times without the two versions having a single common element if it has been transposed. Coordination is now the creation of a unity of meaning which is expressed in the juxtaposed parts, the creation of certain relations, the creation of certain relations which owe nothing to the materiality of the terms which they unite."
Or again:
"We will say that there is form whenever the properties of a system are modified by every change brought about in a single one of its parts and, on the contrary, are conserved when they all change while maintaining the same relationship among themselves."
The emphasis on the formal structure which is constituted by the relation between the parts seems to lead Merleau-Ponty to endorsing a kind of pure functionalism, but he is careful to admit that the material substrate which composes a form makes a difference to the functioning of the structure itself. An organism made of silicon chips would not be the same as an organism made of flesh and blood, even if they functioned the same exact way (and, by necessity, owing to the inseparability of form and matter, they would not).
In addition, it seems as if Merleau-Ponty is endorsing a simple holism which would merely be the opposite of a reductivism, but this is far from the case. Merleau-Ponty insists on a dialectical relationship between the whole and its parts, the parts and their whole, such that neither necessarily takes precedent over the other. What matters is the extent to which an organism's parts are integrated amongst each other, a dynamic relationship in which total integration is never absolutely achieved-- episodes of illness, injury, and surprise threaten the organism with disequilibrium and disintegration into separately functioning parts. But such separation is uncharacteristic of the normal functioning of a healthy organism. Reflexes, far from being the natural form of organic behavior, are in fact pathological limit-cases. Behaviorism's insistence upon the reflex as the foundation of all behavior is an anthropomorphic projection upon the observable facts, which is motivated by the tendencies of scientists to ontologize the ideal constructs they creates for themselves in order to manipulate things with greater precision.
The philosophical implications Merleau-Ponty draws from Gestalt psychology go far beyond what Gestalt psychologists themselves were willing to affirm. Having established the difficulties of analyzing organic behavior with a universal and linear causality--owing to a multitude of simultaneously intersecting dynamic organic functions, and the interdependent functioning established between each of the organism's parts--Merleau-Ponty is led to posit that organisms exhibit a "circular causality" which problematizes classical notions of cause and effect (which appears to be supported by the evidence given) and simultaneously to insist upon doing away with the notion of causality altogether. Here, the last 80 years of scientific and philosophical work done on dynamic complex systems (AKA chaos theory) suggests otherwise. If Merleau-Ponty and the Gestalt psychologists were elaborating a kind of ancestral systems theory before its current formal manifestation, the determining factor in their differing conclusions is their allegiance to the scientific method. Gestalt psychologists are led to affirm the notion of form as a natural principle inherent in reality and therefore amenable to scientific study, while Merleau-Ponty insists that the notion of form ought to shatter the scientific method itself--and this is where the book takes a drastic turn.
After spending nearly 200 pages outlining what will become the basis of much of contemporary systems theory using the notion of form, Merleau-Ponty reminds us that the Gestaltist theory of form was initially drawn from the scientific study of the perceptual world, and that all forms are perceived forms. If the theory of forms requires us to recognize that physiology is not reducible to physics, that psychology is not reducible to physiology, and that a detailed study of behavior must make references to the value which stimuli have for an organism, to the organism's entire perceptual milieu (its Umwelt), and to certain ideal equilibriums which the organism tends towards establishing as sensory-motor "norms," Merleau-Ponty concludes from this that form ultimately belongs to a perceptual reality, and not to the reality of which classical science speaks. In other words, Merleau-Ponty effects a critical turn on scientific ontology, characteristic of Husserl: the world of science is ultimately a perceived world that has forgotten itself as a perception. The formulas, laws, and constructs which science discovers are merely articulations of the perceived world. Of course, the scientist or the naturalist will respond that our perceptions are secondary effects of the primary physical forces which science discovers...but the phenomenologist will respond that such discoveries occur entirely within the transcendental realm of perception. We are here facing something like a chicken-and-egg problem posed in terms of consciousness and nature (which came first?), but to make such a division between the two terms, such that one has an ontological or transcendental priority over the other is already to forget the foundational doctrine of intentionality--namely, that consciousness and its objects are always correlated. Merleau-Ponty is careful to distance himself from Kantian idealism as much as from scientific realism, but he merely replaces Kant's representational conscious with Scheler's affective (non-representational) perceptual consciousness. The world is not an object of my thought, but it is nevertheless the inexhaustible correlate of my perception. What this position ought to lead Merleau-Ponty to endorse is the shared reality of phenomenology and science--they are both explications of the perceived world. But at this juncture in his thought, he is too quick to align "science" with the classical science of Descartes, Newton and Galileo (which the behaviorists have inherited and which, in any case, as Merleau-Ponty himself acknowledges, has already been surpassed by the theory of relativity, quantum physics, non-Euclidean geometry, and the sciences of biology, psychology, and sociology). The limitations of classical science are collapsed into the failures of the scientific project itself, at the expense of Husserl's initial formulation of phenomenology as the first science. Perhaps he saw the "crisis" of which Husserl wrote as an opportunity to inject phenomenology into the history of science; in any case, he writes as if he saw it as a replacement.
Perhaps there is no resolution to be had here. Merleau-Ponty has beautifully, painstakingly elaborated a conplex, three-tiered emergent ontology of matter, life and mind, only to--frustratingly--reveal that the entire world described exists as a correlate of perceptual consciousness, as a *function* of perception. The question then becomes: is the world entirely contained by its appearance to a perceiver (or an intersubjective community of perceivers), or can we imagine a world which exists prior to our perception of it? If we weren't around to perceive a soap bubble or the process of electrolysis, would they still have a form? Or is form merely an effect of our perceptual capacities? Merleau-Ponty is not clear on these points.
And I think these questions are some of the most difficult and frustrating questions for his readers, because he will seemingly endorse contradictory views, writing that of course the world transcends its perceptual appearances--this is in fact the mark of reality, what makes the world an inexhaustible horizon of experience and not an idea I possess completely--but its transcendence is revealed only from within the immanence of the perceptual relationship. Starting from perception, we can discover that we are nothing more than a bundle of complex and intersecting physiological processes that has evolved at a late point within the deep history of the universe--but such a discovery is available only to a perceiver. And ultimately, I think this is the right answer, but it requires doing away with the notion of constituting consciousness as the ultimate source of the world and of the world as merely a perceptual correlate which is immanent to consciousness. Merleau-Ponty will come to affirm this position. But here, in 1938, we are left with a transcendental subject which, despite not being a Cartesian thinking subject or a Kantian representational subject, is still a Husserlian constituting subject--even if what it is constituing are affective, obscure, and perspectival perceptual forms instead of complete objects, it is still the ultimate source, consciousness is the first principle, even if it is not a completely subjective consciousness in the traditional sense, but one which is subject to failure, incompleteness, finitude, and unconsciousness.
Structure stands midway between mind and matter, substance and subject, as a mediating term and as the nascent mode of existence from which all dualities will later be born in reflective thought, but it is still a function of life, of perception--if we perceive it in non-living forms, it is because our perception put it there...but we would not see it there if the appearance of the thing itself did not already suggest it to us, if it were not already structured...and hence, the doorways to phenomenology are opened...