CHAPTER XI


AN EXPLORATION OF THE SOCIAL NOESIS

Tran Van Doan


SOCIAL NOESIS

With his Ideas Pertaining to a Pure Phenomenology and to Phenomenological Philosophy (1913), Husserl introduced the concept of a rigorous science which claims to be the "science of the essential structure of pure consciousness" and of which the main method would be "eidetic reduction". However, such a method is far from perfect because at best it could drop all references to individual and particular, but is in no position to reach the essence itself. In other words, eidetic reduction is no more than a simple step on the way to purified phenomena as such. Husserl is the first to concede this shortcoming, and later presented "phenomenological reduction" aiming to grasp the absolutely given, or better, the structure of the given, the noema.

But by giving more attention to the structure of phenomena, Husserl faces another no less crucial question of how the noema comes to be: noema could not be a simple external object or an unrelated res cogitans as in Descartes' system. The cogitata needs to be thought; it presupposes the act of cogitating. Precisely here, the concept of noesis emerges, especially in Husserl's Cartesian Meditations (1929). Of course, noesis had been mentioned often in the Ideas, but with an inadequate, if not obscure, explanation (168ff) or confusingly (p. 280). For example, one could not discover exactly the difference between noesis and noema. There is one point on which there is no doubt, however: noema relates to noesis in a specific manner, not quite like forma and materia as described by Aristotle. Husserl contends that noesis is the constitution of noema in our internal time-consciousness (Ideas, 245ff), of the conditions and characters of noema (191, 218). Thus, there is an inseparable relationship between noesis and noema: noesis is the manifoldness of the phenomena, while noema is its unity (203, 204, 207, 212, etc.).

In the Cartesian Meditations, Husserl attaches more weight to the noesis, and for the first time discusses genetic phenomenology in the context of his transcendental analysis of the ego. The eidetic reduction that he designs aims at "leading back to the transcendental ego naturally, with its concrete monadic contents as this de facto ego, the one and only absolute ego"(112). In a stroke, Husserl reduces the act of noesis to the transcendental act of egological genesis, which is a purely psychological act (p. 75). Nonetheless, he acknowledges the role of time and history in shaping the universal form of the ego: "The ego constitutes himself for himself in, so to speak, the unity of a "history" (p. 75).

Husserl's eidetic reduction seems limited to the area of transcendental knowledge and therefore does not touch the more fundamental problems of the relationship between human existence and human knowledge. The question of how knowledge emerges could not be solved simply by an explanation of the forms and conditions of cognitive constitution as did Kant, and as Husserl tried to prove. It appeared to Heidegger to be insignificant that Husserl had improved Cartesianism by means of Kant's transcendental analysis.

To Heidegger, in his Sein und Zeit (1927), which was misunderstood by Husserl, the above question is of decisive importance because it demands a thorough exploration of the noesis through which alone one can understand how the human lifeworld is such, and why it is in permanent transformation. Heidegger's analysis of the concept of truth (like his analysis of the Dasein) neither rests on the surface of phenomena as with empiricism, nor wanders in the world of mind, unrelated to, or isolated from, our concrete world. He discovers the noetic power explaining human modes of existence such as anxiety and death. In other words, human modes of existence are such and such because Being is in the process of self-unconcealment through its acts in relation to its world. Therefore, we are not allowed to take the external, transcendental (i.e., timeless) to understand or to measure human beings. The main merit of Heidegger lies in his exploration of the act of cogitans (noesis) or better, the act of human self-development, and not its forms (noemata). For him, Noema, as expressing rather the temporality of human Dasein, could not help to explain Being-as-such. This point is made clear in his Einfuhrung in die Metaphysik (1935) where he states that Being is presence (Anwesenheit which, in turn, is understood as the act of presence, of self-presentation, etc., that is, the noetic act; and especially when he insists on the interdependence of Being and man.

Similarly, but in a different direction, Alfred Schutz seeks to build an understanding of society on the concept of noesis (even if he does not clearly use the terminology). He proposes, for example, a plan to understand our life-world:

As we have already said repeatedly, this social world is by no means homogeneous but exhibits a multi-form structure. Each of its spheres or regions is both a way of perceiving and a way of understanding the subjective experiences of others. . . .

We shall try to answer these questions: first, how such an inner differentiation is possible; second, what grounds we have for supposing that the social world has both unity and inner differentiation; and third, which of these differentiations may usefully serve as a basis for our analysis of understanding the other self.(113)

The multi-form structure underlined by Schutz could not be explained in terms of a calculus of the purpose of human action, as did Max Weber, because such calculated action would claim a homogeneity for human acts, and as such, contradict Schutz's discovery of the multi-form structure found in human experience. According to Schutz, this multi-form structure comes, rather, from human activities or the direct experiences which determine the "We-relationship":

The basic We-relationship is already given to me by the mere act that I am born into the world of directly experienced social reality. From this basic relationship is derived the originality of all my direct experiences of particular fellow men and also my knowledge that there is a larger world of my contemporaries whom I am not now experiencing directly.(114)

He then makes clear that, "To put the point in terms of a formula: I can live in your subjective meaning-contexts to the extent that I directly experience you within an actualized content-filled We-relationship"(115). However, the We-relationship is not constructed a priori--but synthetically constituted by human acts: "The We-relationship is spatial as well as temporal."

We shall take these insights of Heidegger and Schutz as guides for a further exploration of the concept of noesis in terms of social life. First, we note their efforts to be rid of the Cartesian element in Husserl's transcendental phenomenology, especially in Heidegger's attempt to turn upside down the Kantian categories by building the so-called existential categories. Second, we acknowledge their intention of building a phenomenological hermeneutics based on human self-developing activities (noesis) and not on its schemata or noemata. Nonetheless, we feel that they do not go far enough in seeing in noesis some principle or dynamic power; thus, they do not wholly discover the genetic process of noesis, and therefore fall into the traps of Cartesianism and of Kant's transcendentalism which they had tried deliberately to avoid.

We would go a step further to claim that the process of noesis is genetically constructed. Even the noesis (which we call here social noesis) is constructed not a priori or simply mentally, but in the process of self-construction implicit in differentiated human activities dealing with various objects and hence newly merging interests. To be more precise, (1) we discover the social noesis (or better said, the social noesis emerges) when one faces a problem from a certain natural or human object. The relationship to this object gives birth to new interests and new problems which then demand a new principle and new activities. (2) One discovers new interests not by planned or programmed activities, but spontaneously precisely at the moment of acting on a certain object or subject. (3) The new activities thus discovered are not understood in terms of metaphysical power, idea, dynamos or will, etc., because they could not claim to be a foundation of other activities. They are restricted to a certain aspect of human life and therefore are explained in terms of causal or interconnected relationships.

To prove our point, we will discuss the social noesis in its genetic process, namely, in the following relationships:

Subject and Action

Meaningful Action, Deep-seated Action and Action as such

Action and New Action

Action and Social Noesis

Social Noesis and Social Noemata

SUBJECT AND ACTION

One often remarks that Husserl's treatment of noesis is not quite convincing, partly because of his Cartesian or metaphysical approach. Husserl begins his phenomenological analysis with the subject. That is quite plausible so long as he treats the subject not as such, but as a starting point towards understanding the subject in his world. But Husserl soon lapses into the Cartesian trap by remaining in the subject as such and not going to the world. His ambition to build a foundation for all knowledge based on the transcendental ego is understandable, but it is doubtful that such a transcendental ego, like the Cartesian cogito, could serve as the noesis to develop knowledge. The doubt comes from the fact that the cogito or transcendental ego cannot produce the real world and its structure. At best it can provide a solid starting point, and that is all.

Husserl might have been aware of the limit of the transcendental ego when he tried to substitute Descartes' Cogito ergo sum with his Cogito cogitata. By adding the object "cogitata", he rejected the solus ipse of the ego. Consequently, he might have adopted the Hegelian position that a solitary subject could not even discover itself without the help of the object. Thus, it may be unfair to say that Husserl remains in the subject alone. It is true that he has tried to avoid the Cartesian error by insisting on the necessity of the relationship between the subject and the object, just as between the noesis and the noema. But such an apology could not explain how the noesis comes into being, any more than it can be explained how the transcendental ego comes into its form.

Descartes' reduction of all phenomena ultimately leaves the ego; Husserl's eidetic epoche of appearances reduces all to the transcendental ego. Both adopt the view that the ego simply is as such, and therefore transcendental or a priori. This means the ego is not the product of our thinking, but the necessary condition of our thinking. This Kantian position could not explain the fact that while the conditions may be the same we have different views or understandings. This serious shortcoming clearly shows that the subject is by no means a static subject, or a fully neutral necessary condition, a sort of Kantian category. The subject with which we enter into the world is mine or yours, his or hers, etc., that is, a subject which in acting or living is constructing or developing its world.

By saying that the subject is acting we wish to show that it is in action that the subject builds itself. Thus, the crux of phenomenological analysis should be the action of the subject and not the subject alone. This issue was raised by Karl Marx and supported by M. Weber, A. Schutz and most sociologists today. It does not imply going as far as Marx to claim that it is the action or labor alone which decides. Such a claim would no doubt raise objections because of its deterministic and metaphysical characteristics. But certainly, the subject itself is known only by and through its action. Without action, the subject is blind before the contentless forms, just as a box can be empty.

MEANINGFUL ACTION, DEEP-SEATED ACTION AND

ACTION AS SUCH

However, not all actions reveal the subject. We observe that human action is of different natures and is guided by different interests or motives, both conscious and unconscious. Here, I would concentrate on three kinds of action which demonstrate the genetic process of noesis: meaningful action, deep-seated or unconscious action, and action as such.

Let us discuss, first, meaningful action in terms of Weber's social action. According to Weber, "action is social insofar as, by virtue of the subjective meaning attached to it by the acting individual (or individuals), it takes account of the behavior of others and is thereby oriented in its course."(116) Weber's concept of meaningful action could be seen from the following aspects: (1) any action must be oriented in its course, (2) any action must be guided by a certain motive or interests, and (3) any action must be subjective and social.

The first and the second aspects are very close, so that we can treat them in terms of motives. If Weber's definition of meaningful action is

accepted it will be necessary first to clarify the question of the direction in which the action is oriented, and therefore, why the subject has such a motive or interest. On the one hand, if we accept the metaphysical approach which explains interests and motives as something innate or a priori, our action is meaningful only when it achieves the pre-determined motives or interests. Let us take the example of the action of studying. Study is meaningful only when through the act of studying the student acquires new knowledge. It would be meaningless if the student acquired nothing. When the concept of meaningful action is understood in this way, one faces the crucial question of the kind of interests or motives to which one's actions are oriented, and towards what kinds our actions are not oriented.

To answer such a question one may resort to a tautological answer such as "because we possess such interests and motives by nature" or because of our biological needs. Weber and Husserl, of course, do not take such a view seriously. Weber, especially, tries to explain the meaning of an action in terms of "the action being given the meaning by others." This means that the action by itself is meaningless if it is not recognized by others. In this context, Weber seems to have in mind at least two kinds of action: meaningful action and simple action, such as instinctual behavior. We find his explication very interesting in the sense that he lays more emphasis on the intersubjective characteristic of human action: the action is meaningful only if it is conscious (motive-oriented) and intersubjectively recognized.

On the other hand, not all intersubjectively-recognized actions are motive-oriented, or vice versa. The act of walking is not recognized if it is not reflected on by the subject, just as the act of staying idle is without orientation. Most of our behaviors (which we consider natural) are of this character. Weber regards them as plain actions, and the question is whether these plain actions could be regarded as meaningless. When one raises the question of the kind of interests to which our actions are oriented, two kinds come to mind, the conscious and the unconscious. Conscious action is intersubjectively-recognized or, at least, recognized by the subject, while unconscious action is driven by our deep-seated interest or desires which are designed to satisfy our basic needs. Such a Freudian explanation may help to broaden the meaning of the concept of meaningful action, but such an explanation renders talk about meaningful or meaningless action non-sensical, because all actions are meaningful in some way.

Hence, meaningful action should be explained not only in terms of social or intersubjectively-recognized action or purposive action, but more importantly in terms of action generating new action.

ACTION AND NEW ACTION

To return to the original question of the kinds of motive or interest to which our actions are oriented, such a question could not be answered so long as we could not give an adequate answer to the more crucial and fundamental question of how interests and motives are constituted or constructed. These two questions are inseparable. To begin with the first question: we know that our actions certainly are oriented, but we are not quite sure by which kind of interests or motives. We know them only if our actions are set up to deal with or to solve certain problems relating to our life. The act of eating is meaningful because it satisfies our need for food; and the need of food arises because of the demand, so to say, of our stomach. That means we are aware of our interests so long as we grasp the problems, and we consider our action meaningful if it could solve such problems.

However, we cannot be sure that we eat only when our stomach urges us. The fact that man eats even when he is not hungry shows that our interests are not completely planned or determined. Biological needs are natural, but also unnatural in the sense that only in such and such a circumstance do we have such and such a need. We eat because of other reasons which are constructed a posteriori such as "socialization" (as seen in Chinese society), or simply for habit. Thus, it is the second question of how interests come to be which is the crux in explaining the concept of meaningful-action. We have stated that the act of eating could be (1) motivated by an instinctual or natural need, and (2) guided by environment or society. We may add another, third factor, namely, the act of eating may be the result of a previous act, say the act of socializing, or the act of being aroused, stimulated, etc.

The third characteristic which gives a clue to understanding the nature of our action is explained in the problematics of interest-and-solutions. We can sum this up as follows:

(a) action could be motivated and oriented to such a motive,

(b) action could be conscious or unconscious,

(c) conscious or unconscious, motivated or unmotivated action does not happen in solitude but is always in a sequence, and only in the process of action can we determine the nature of interests, its genesis as well as its solutions, and therefore its meaning.

Our point is this: the meaningfulness of action cannot be explained only from a previous purpose or interest; such an explanation is rather metaphysical and deterministic. Similarly, it cannot be explained solely in terms of social consciousness because the social consciousness is rather a posteriori and not prior to action. Laying more weight on the genetic process of action favors a kind of constructivist explanation of our interests or purposes, and hence our social noesis (in the way described by Jean Piaget).(117)

ACTION AND SOCIAL NOESIS

To link action with social noesis does not mean to unify them, as in Aristotle's relation of form and matter. To avoid such metaphysical seduction, action should not be regarded as social noesis as Marx had proposed (Pariser Manuskript, 1844). Action (or labor) is not "inborn" in man like blood or brain, but develops a posteriori in accordance with the way one encounters new problems emerging from (new) environments, from (new) discovery and from (new) stimuli. This section will deal with the question of action which generates new action. This will be linked with problem-solving and problem-emerging in a more detailed argument, to show that the social noesis emerges in three consecutive phases: (1) problem-discovery action that gives birth to a new problem-solving action, (2) problem-solving action that stimulates social change, and (3) the demands of social change for new action. These three phases take place continuously and consecutively.

Before going directly into such a process, it should be made clear why the metaphysical approach of Husserl and, of course, Descartes are not accepted. Cartesianism can be suspected even in Noam Chomsky's work linking geneticism and a fixed innate scheme because he believes that the kernal of language is fixed(118). Of course, Chomsky is not the only one. The sociologist Talcott Parsons commits the same mistake when he half-heartedly embraces the Cartesian innate idea, or the inborn structure of action, and regards it as the backbone of his theory of social structure as a stable disposition of the elements of a social system.(119) Even if one acknowledges their merit, one need not be quite happy with their Cartesianism. First, to accept an inborn nature or an innate nature for language or psyche means accepting an invariable, eternal foundation upon which one builds language or develops the psyche or mind. But the present discussion is centered on the question not of the nature, but of the existence of such a foundation: Are we able to prove this existence, and is its existence unchangeable?

In the work of most of the followers of Descartes the answer is constructed rather upon tautological arguments (or better, the data found in the animals' communicative activity and in the human use of language arranged in a logical order) or on a principle of causality that we cannot prove, such as: if there is b, then a must exist (or a presupposes b, and b follows a, etc.). We do not dismiss such a logic, but the question here is whether such a logic is "inborn" or artificially constructed. In the first case, it is clear that there is no valid proof demonstrating an inborn logic (as some structuralists have believed). In the second case, we may follow the later Wittgenstein in saying that the logic that we take for granted is in fact built in accordance with human ways of treating problems or dealing with environments. If such is the case, then the more important questions concern which ways are adopted to deal with problems? This is the crux of our argument, in terms of which we must understand the social noesis. (We do not interpret the social noesis as the social Tao [as understood by Taoists] though we find it attractive). Second, the belief in an inborn or innate nature of logic, language, etc., points logically to a determinism such as has been adopted by the structuralists which, as such, negates genuine development for human beings.

Let us now return to the main argument, based as follows on the process of social genesis: If the idea of an innate nature of noesis fails to explain the development of man and hence of society, then it is necessary to construct the social noesis from what we call the process of problem-discovery and problem-solution.

(1) Let us begin with a simple example of an ordinary act that happens every day: the act of problem-discovery. Suppose we wake up in the morning and suddenly encounter some difficulties in preparing breakfast, such as there being no gas, no bread, and so forth. Here there is no question of the nature of breakfast (i.e., an analytical and metaphysical question), but how to ready the breakfast. So, we rush to the bakery for bread or call for the gas to be fixed. In this first stage the problem is not a priori programmed or planned, but happens accidentally. However, we may explain such a problem by referring to a rational, causal process, namely, if we were careful then such a problem might not have happened. That is true in some cases, but not in others. For example, the gas shortage may be beyond our programming, or the bread shortage may be caused not by our negligence, but by natural catastrophe. More important, we wonder whether we have sufficient time for such a theoretical question, or whether our main problem simply is how to get the breakfast ready.

However, these problems do not happen alone, but in a series. Suppose that there is only a small problem of forgetfulness. We may just rush to the bakery and the problem is solved. But what if the bakery is closed, or we are hit by a car, or our car is broken . . . ? Then the problem may emerge in a very unordinary way that we could not have imagined and thus planned for. In all cases, our main question is the same: how can we get breakfast? And in order to do so we need to find a solution, an alternative, because we cannot go to the office on an empty stomach. Such an example shows that it is the problem discovery which forces us to find a solution. Thus, the action of discovery presupposes the action of solution, and again the solution may become obsolete in the course of time when we discover other problems.

(2) Suppose we follow the Weberian explanation of the concept of meaningful action and insist on what we call the ordinary process of scientific discovery(120) as a programmed sequence of action oriented to a certain purpose. We may say that there is not a single new discovery, because even the gas shortage or car accident should be programmed. That is partly true if we already have all kinds of such experience. The point is that all experiences are Erlebnis, that is, they belong to our past life; there is no experience of the future. Thus, it is easy to have a plan based on experiences, but impossible to program what has not yet happened.

In this sense, we follow Heidegger, insisting that our experiences reveal rather our Dasein, but not Being as such. Heidegger's analysis of such existential experiences as anxiety, death, care, etc., does not pinpoint exactly the nature of Being or Being as such as claimed by traditional metaphysics. His existential analysis reveals only the possibility of the self-revelation of Being. In this context, we may dare to claim that the mechanistic, Newtonian explanation of phenomena is insufficient, and consequently, that the claim that no new action emerges from previous action could be refuted. However, the claim that new action springs from previous action must be tested. In our argument, we refer to Popper's thesis of scientific discovery and Marx's insistence on the dynamic force of action (labor) to support our claim.

In the sixth thesis on social sciences, Popper explains the birth of science as follows:

a) The method of the social sciences, like that of the natural sciences, consists in trying out tentative solutions to certain problems: the problems from which our investigations start, and those which turn up during the investigation. Solutions are proposed and criticized. If a proposed solution is not open to pertinent criticism, then it is excluded as unscientific, although perhaps only temporarily.

b) If the attempted solution is open to pertinent criticism, then we attempt to refute it, for all criticism consists of attempts at refutation.

c) If an attempted solution is refuted through our criticism, we make another attempt.

d) If it withstands criticism, we accept it temporarily; above all we accept it as worthy of being further discussed and criticized.

He concludes:

e) Thus, the method of sciences is one of tentative attempts to solve our problems by conjectures which are controlled by severe criticism. It is a consciously critical development of the method of "trial and error".(121)

What is interesting in Popper's argument is that he does not rely on any form of meta-theory, because there is no such thing, but insists on the dynamic process of discovery through criticism that he calls scientific. Without wholly sharing his view on the nature of science, we agree that the social noesis is generated in the process. It is far from any form of meta-theory. The social noesis is both a strategic starting point (but not the alpha point), and open to new possible development (but not to being the omega). It is born during the process just like the new action (which is appearing from old actions), as Marx described the process of labor and new activities.(122)

(3) Thus, the new solution may cause new action, and new action may produce problems. The processes of problem-discovery and problem-solution are responsible for the appearance of what we may call the social noesis, which means that the social noesis is possible in the process of human actions. It is possible to think of it alone without the chain of action, but one may object to such an understanding of noesis on the basis of the epistemological status or starting point of our action. Is our action not oriented to a certain purpose as is action in the biological world? Such a question is worth further discussion, but we need to return to our point that, even in the biological world, one can demonstrate that most reactions or actions come spontaneously when the body or mind is stimulated or aroused by the environment (by a new Umwelt, etc.). Thus, our main point is that the social noesis could be demonstrated indirectly by an analysis of the way forms of society self-transform, or the way social structures come into being.

SOCIAL NOESIS AND SOCIAL NOEMATA

Here we will sketch the relationship between noesis and noema in some of its general aspects, but will not go into detail in this section as that would require more time and is beyond the main aim of this chapter. This sketch of such a relationship is aimed at refuting the thesis of Husserl and of some Freudian psychologists that noesis is the act of cogitating (Ideas, vol. II) while noema is only its form, or that the noesis is the power or the instinct explaining human action, reaction, etc.

First, Husserl makes very clear the relationship between noesis and noema in terms of Newtonian mechanistic functions. He describes noesis as the act or power and noema as its form of appearances. Such an explanation is rooted in the traditional principle of causality, and in a Platonic dualism. Most important is the dynamos which is responsible for the development of many kinds of forms of society or of human beings. But, if noesis and noema function, mutatis muntandis, in this way, then it is difficult to talk of human social development. The principle of mechanism forces us to accept a deterministic conclusion that there is no revolution, no development; in such a system there is but permanent repetition of the same. If Husserl commits himself to such a theory then he is at best a Neo-Platonist or Neo-Cartesian.

Second, in his Cartesian Meditations Husserl tries to distinguish two concepts of genesis: the active and the passive:

In active genesis the Ego functions as productively constitutive, by means of subjective processes that are specifically acts of the Ego. . . . The characteristic feature is that the Ego-acts, pooled in a sociality--whose transcendental sense, to be sure, we have not yet brought to light--become combined in a manifold, specifically active synthesis, and, on the basis of objects already given (in modes of consciousness that give beforehand), constitute new objects originally.(123)

And as for the passive genesis, he writes:

The "ready-made" object that confronts us in life as an existent mere physical thing (when we disregard all the "spiritual" or "cultural" characteristics that make it knowable as, for example, a hammer, a table, an aesthetic creation) is given, with the originality of the "itself", in the synthesis of a passive experience.(124)

The Husserlian description of noesis and noema in his Cartesian Meditations is clearly much better than in his Ideas, though he could not escape from the Cartesian trap, because he follows strictly the Kantian "synthetic a priori" in grasping our experiences. Thus, to him, any action is intentional in the sense that it synthesizes our experiences in a transcendental way.

Our position is not quite Husserlian in the sense that we do not think that the distinction between the passive and the active genesis does justice to the social noesis. We will argue briefly from the different angles of phenomena and of form and structure.

(a) When we observe phenomena, we discover that they are in permanent change: some slowly, some very rapidly, and in a certain manner. Mostly they are orderly, but at times disorderly or chaotic. If we follow Husserl by beginning with an eidetic or phenomenological reduction, we may discover the substance or essence of such phenomena to be, to our surprise, stable or fixed. Actually, the impression of stable or fixed is not quite correct; for whether they are such or not is not his main concern. The point he emphasizes, like Kant, is how we perceive and know them. Certainly, we know by means of forms; thus for Husserl to grasp the forms is identical with understanding phenomena. We follow Husserl only half way, to the point of discovering some forms for phenomena, but would contend that there is neither an absolute fixed form nor a single form. In contrast, there could be more forms of phenomena, depending on which actions, in which environments, etc.

(b) Thus, the form which we deduce or reduce or synthesize from phenomena is not the ultimate objective of phenomenology; we must go on to the deeper level of phenomena, its structure. However, even the structure is not eternally stable, but changes or self-transforms in a very slow, almost invisible manner. Thus, the impression that there is an absolute idea (Plato), or absolute structure (structuralists, like Levi Strauss), or absolute and fully independent categories (Kant), and so on, is built upon this mistake of not seeing the self-transformation of the structure itself.

Structure should be divided into three kinds relating to three sorts of human activities: the most basic structure and the most basic activities, the relatively stable structure and relatively important activities, and the particular temporal structure with ephemeral activities. The relationship between structure and activities and social forms will be explored in another work. Here we would draw the following conclusion:

The emergence of new activities and structures, the influence on forms and vice versa, is the main characteristic of the social noesis. In this sense, the social noesis is not a metaphysical principle or element, but expresses the process of human activities which is understood only in the process of problem-discovery and problem-solution.

National Taiwan University

Taipei, Taiwan