- 2025年8月11日
A Method for Learning Philosophy for Those Who Love Rationalization and Efficiency
A Method for Learning Philosophy for Those Who Love Rationalization and Efficiency
Is the Human Mind Designed to Simplify?
Long ago, there was a time when we, Homo sapiens, coexisted with Neanderthals. It seems there was interbreeding, and many people today still carry Neanderthal genes. Neanderthals had larger brains than Homo sapiens. While it’s uncertain if brain size directly correlates with intelligence, it has been suggested that Neanderthals may have been more intelligent than us.
So, why did Neanderthals go extinct while Homo sapiens survived? The true reason is unknown and subject to various theories, but one hypothesis suggests that “not being too smart was advantageous for survival.” The brain is an organ that consumes a great deal of energy. This “energy-saving advantage” theory posits that conserving energy was more beneficial for survival than sheer intelligence. It’s reminiscent of the current global attention on fuel-efficient compact cars in the automotive industry.
Regardless of whether Neanderthals used language or assimilated, it’s possible they possessed a richer spiritual world and a more complex inner life than Homo sapiens. However, it’s been pointed out that such a rich inner life and complex psyche might have been inefficient and irrational for survival, leading to their loss in the competition against Homo sapiens. Compared to Neanderthals, we Homo sapiens may have had a tendency to grasp things in a simplified manner without deep thought.
Perhaps for this reason, or due to assimilation, even though Neanderthals were superior individually with their larger brains and physiques, Homo sapiens may have developed better teamwork and collaborative abilities.
Interestingly, it is known that individuals on the autism spectrum (sometimes colloquially referred to as Asperger’s) have larger brains than neurotypical individuals. While autism spectrum disorder can present challenges in daily and social life, some individuals exhibit extraordinary talent in specific areas, a phenomenon known as savant skills or savant syndrome.
A child’s first rebellious phase, often negatively termed “the terrible twos,” might only be seen as a hindrance in modern civic life. In the slower-paced countryside of the past, in primitive times, or in different historical and social contexts, it may not have been a negative trait at all. There’s a theory that autism spectrum disorder is classified as a disability today only because of the development of modern tertiary and service industries. In pre-modern times, there might have been eras and regions where a person with intense focus and poor communication skills could live, thrive, or even be valued.
The Modern Human Brain Has a Habit of Simplifying
After that long introduction, the point is that there’s a possibility that “the brain of us modern humans, Homo sapiens, has a habit of simplifying things.” In other words, humans might be simple creatures who “crave certainty.” We tend to avoid accepting complex things as they are. Perhaps we have a shortcut-taking tendency, like assuming a substantive reality exists just because we see a cluster of dots in a statistical analysis.
Viewing history through this lens, philosophy can be broadly divided into two eras, and the nature of philosophy differs in each.
Philosophy from antiquity to the modern era is a philosophy of a time that attempted to, or believed it could, simplify things, whether they were simple or complex.
Contemporary philosophy, from structuralism to post-structuralism, is a philosophy that, when faced with complexity, attempts to grasp it in its complexity without simplification. So, what does contemporary philosophy do with something simple? It can be grasped as simple, or one can search for hidden complexities—it’s a matter of choice. The key difference between pre-contemporary and contemporary philosophy lies in this: the former simplifies the complex, while the latter does not.
If things can be simplified, it is often more efficient. Organizing and thinking rationally according to some principle is often energy-saving and convenient. On the other hand, not simplifying things consumes energy and requires complex explanations when communicating with others. However, this is also a form of intellectual honesty.
You may recall finding academic books or the explanations of scholars and researchers difficult to understand. Conversely, in modern society, overly simplistic expressions warrant caution. Political propaganda, populism, rhetorical effects over logic, sophistic sensationalism over intellectual honesty, irresponsible commercial marketing over true understanding—all forms of reporting, whether on the internet or in old media, face the dilemma that the easier they try to make something to understand, the more imprecision and dishonesty can creep in. Conveying accurate information is difficult, and often, the more honest one tries to be, the less certain one becomes about what “accurate” even means. Furthermore, there are many people and groups who, far from being conscientious, intentionally deceive for malicious or commercial reasons to harm others for their own gain. If there is malice in addition to harm, they can be considered an enemy.
Verbalization and Theorization Are Digitalization and Simplification
The world is analog. Or perhaps it isn’t, but since most people think it is, we’ll proceed with that assumption. Naming, explaining, and theorizing about things in the world is, in fact, an act of simplification and abbreviation.
Language uses symbols, so symbolization, even if not binary, is a form of digitalization. The same goes for explanation. Theory might be slightly different, but modern theories can be axiomatized and formalized, expressed through logic, making them akin to digitalization. Logic, the “discourse on reason,” ultimately uses the symbols of language.
To be clear, symbolization is digitalization. ASCII code is a famous example. Converting the analog to the digital can be seen as a form of simplification.
Looking at theological debates like the problem of universals, one can see them as arguments over which direction to simplify in. Seeing things as having an essence or substance is one simplification; seeing them as just names or labels is another. Modern philosophy and modernism are also about simplification. The phrase “I think, therefore I am” is a simplification. The very act of consolidating the self into “I” is a simplification.
Incidentally, this statement is not even logical. How does the consequent “I am” follow from the antecedent “I think”? Without some other premise, it cannot be called logical. And Descartes only explained it intuitively. After various explanations, what ultimately emerges is the “veracity of God.”
Descartes was an excellent mathematician, but is he more highly regarded as a philosopher than a mathematician, perhaps the reverse of Leibniz? Leibniz was a polymath, but as a philosopher, his work, including Monadology, is not considered profound, though it has aspects valued in information and computer science. It would have been interesting if it had been a precursor to structuralism rather than realism. Conversely, his reputation as a mathematician is high, perhaps for his work on calculus or his universal symbolism, which connects to modern computer science. Descartes is valued from the humanities side, Leibniz from the sciences.
In any case, the ability to theorize something, discover a new concept, or name it might itself be an unconscious simplification, an unnoticed mechanism of our brain and cognitive functions. Contemporary philosophy, such as structuralism and post-structuralism, critiques this very process.
Incidentally, in Eastern thought, Buddhism discovered and theorized this long before contemporary philosophy. And perhaps the only existing nation that has implemented it on a national scale is Japan. There are other Mahayana Buddhist countries like Tibet, Bhutan, and Mongolia, but I cannot say for sure as I have not visited them.
Ambiguity as Humility and Honesty; Assertion as Arrogance and Imposition
The core of post-structuralism in contemporary philosophy is metacognition and the ability to be independent of, rather than merely neutral towards, all ways of thinking. In Buddhism, this is called Mādhyamaka (the Middle Way). “All ways of thinking” includes ideologies, religions, theories, ethics, morals, perspectives—everything.
To become neutral towards all ways ofthinking, it is necessary to know many of them, or at least strive to. It requires not siding with one, not imposing it on others, not being exclusive, being humble, knowing what you don’t know, not pretending to know what you don’t, and shedding useless pride. Conversely, a healthy skepticism is also necessary.
This sometimes leads to ambiguous answers, to not speaking, or to clearly stating “I don’t know.” It fosters a caution about expressing things in words (known as furyū-monji in Zen, “not established on words and letters”) and is built on an operating system that does not impose or exclude opinions. This can be seen as a human critique of and rebellion against our brains and possibly innate cognitive functions. It is also a reflection on the arrogance and lack of humility in previous philosophies and human ideologies. For example, in Christianity, pride is one of the seven deadly sins, and there is the “Doubting Thomas,” a saint who questioned things like the resurrection and judgment.
To Think Anything Can Be Simply Expressed Is Human Hubris
In the Buddha’s teachings, there is a parable to teach the core of his message called “The Blind Men and the Elephant.” Several blind men are asked to touch an elephant. The one who touches the trunk says it’s like a pipe. The one who touches the tusk says it’s like a bone. The one who touches the ear says it’s like a fan. The one who touches the leg says it’s like a tree trunk. A sighted person would say that none of them has grasped the essence of the elephant.
One could interpret this to mean that “the sighted person is the enlightened one.” However, this parable should be interpreted differently. Does seeing and touching an elephant truly mean you understand it? Some might argue that unless you hear its cry, smell its scent, and taste it, you cannot say you understand what an elephant is. An elephant researcher might laugh at such a person, telling them not to get carried away by knowing superficial things.
Basically, anyone who has researched or studied something knows that the more you research and learn, the more you realize that knowing is not simple or easy.
Structuralism analyzes the internal and external structures of things from various perspectives. Post-structuralism does this from even more angles. The term “structure” is used, but it could be analysis from a systems perspective or a network perspective. In Buddhism, the network-like understanding through concepts like innen (causes and conditions) or engi (dependent origination) might be similar.
What’s important is the view in contemporary philosophy that no matter how deep you dig, you can never fully excavate; you can never reach the “thing-in-itself.” Looking at Foucault’s archaeological and genealogical explorations of knowledge or Roland Barthes’s theory of the text, one gets the image of inquiry as a path without end. It is not a path to feel satisfied by simplifying and feeling like you understand.
Let’s consider “What is a human being?” We can think about this from many perspectives. For example, in medical school, where one must learn about humans, basic medicine includes subjects like physiology, anatomy, biochemistry, pathology, hygiene, and public health. One must learn all of them to pass graduation and national exams. This means a doctor views a human being physiologically at times, anatomically at others. They think about humans by simultaneously holding or switching between these multiple, different perspectives.
Humans can be viewed from many more perspectives—through the various disciplines of the humanities, social sciences, and natural sciences. Even without an academic approach, we could say we are learning about humans every day, whether we intend to or not, through daily life, social interactions, entertainment, hobbies, social media, and more. Through these, the number of ways we see and think about people increases. And it’s not a matter of one being right and others wrong, one being the best, or one that should be excluded. We simultaneously hold these various ways of thinking under a larger metacognitive view. In this way, the simplistic views of substance, essence, or existence are deconstructed without even trying. Sartre said, “existence precedes essence,” but with this perspective, not just essence but even existence itself is deconstructed. This is one method of deconstruction.
A Form of Implemented Ideology: The Case of Japan
Claude Lévi-Strauss was perplexed in his later years. It was because he could not make sense of Japan, the subject of his late research. Lévi-Strauss was a structuralist, a leading figure who had defeated the star philosopher of the time, Sartre, in debate and brought about a boom in structuralism.
He had believed in Western civilization. However, after fleeing France from Nazi persecution and witnessing the erosion of an Amazonian village in Brazil, where he stayed as a cultural anthropologist, by Western civilization, he became pessimistic about the future of humanity. He believed that both Nazism and Western civilization sprang from the same root and would eventually bring some form of ruin to humanity’s future. The “savage mind” (la pensée sauvage), a non-Western form of spirituality, was being destroyed by Western civilization.
As a Jew, he was likely deeply pessimistic about the future, knowing that 6 million out of a global Jewish population of (I forget if it was 18 or 12 million) were murdered. Nazism was not just a German problem but essentially a monstrous child born of Western civilization. Western civilization destroys the spirituality that humans had possessed for ages, replaces it, and brings various tragedies to humanity. Lévi-Strauss was not the only intellectual living in the 20th century—an abnormal century of “greatness and misery,” where more people lost their lives to war, revolution, and ideology than in all previous human history combined—to be pessimistic about the future.
This same Lévi-Strauss apparently discovered Japan in his later years and was amazed and impressed by the coexistence of ancient human spirituality and modern Western civilization. However, while impressed, his analysis seems to have failed, leaving him frustrated. He is said to have left the words, “It’s frustrating, but Japan is peerless.” Since Jews are also considered to have maintained their ancient ways of thinking, perhaps the religious pride of a man with the name Levi, a special status among the chosen people, was also wounded.
His inability to analyze Japan was likely largely due to his lack of knowledge of Japanese history and Mahayana Buddhism, but other factors like the language barrier and geopolitical analysis could also be considered. However, had he known Mahayana Buddhism and understood the core of post-structuralism, and realized they were the same, he might have been able to analyze it. This is because the reception of thoughts, civilizations, cultures, and technologies through the lens of Mādhyamaka would inevitably lead to a result like Japan’s.
There are, however, some exceptions. The proselytizing of Christianity, the imposition of faith, and the pushy nature of sects like the Nichiren school or Shinran’s followers in Kamakura Buddhism are incompatible with Mādhyamaka and metacognition. Furthermore, ideologies and religions with exclusive clauses, like the “You shall have no other gods before me” in the Ten Commandments, are also incompatible with Mādhyamaka and metacognition. This might be why Japan is often misunderstood as “irreligious,” “atheist,” or “lacking faith.”
The nations on the continent experienced dramatic rises and falls, and Japan is likely the only country where Northern Mahayana Buddhism has survived in an implemented form. This is quite interesting when compared to Southern Theravada Buddhism, where a vast amount of material was preserved in Sri Lanka.
Conclusion
Humans probably have a habit of simplifying their thoughts. Contemporary philosophy, from structuralism to post-structuralism, is the attempt to become aware of this unconscious habit and resist it.
All philosophy before it—be it ancient, medieval, or modern—is about simplification. When a new idea emerged, they tried to simplify with it. When a new way of thinking was conceived, they tried to simplify with it. There was no simultaneous adoption and acceptance of multiple ideas. It was a history of excluding the notions that simplification might not be necessary, that things could be accepted as they are, in all their complexity.
Therefore, the theories of pre-contemporary philosophers, though they may seem quaint, strange, or contradictory from our current perspective, are coherent and simplified in their own way, making them, conversely, easier to learn.
What is likely necessary for the future of humanity, the world, nature, and the environment is the way of thinking found in contemporary philosophy’s structuralism and post-structuralism, and the Buddhist concepts of Mādhyamaka, dependent origination, and causality (also known as śūnyatā or emptiness). It seems contemporary philosophy is a required subject for the baccalauréat exam in France, and it is vital for higher education institutions to teach these ways of thinking in philosophy and ethics courses.