MPEC. Understanding. August 2025

1.
There are several reasons why I want to talk about “understanding.”
One is to get a better understanding of Schopenhauer’s philosophy, where “understanding” (Verstand) plays a significant role among other cognitive faculties like “reason” (Vernunft) and “judgment” (Urteilskraft). For Schopenhauer, “understanding” is that which allows us to observe causal relations, while “reason” deals only with abstract concepts, grouping them together with respect to specific qualities. Schopenhauer believes that “understanding” is common to both humans and animals, whereas “reason” is exclusively our property that differentiates us from the rest of the animal kingdom.
Another reason why I want to talk about “understanding” is this concept’s rich potential for building a meaningful and fruitful discussion. Since all of us are driven, to a lesser or larger degree, by the intention to master English, and our success depends on how close we’re going to come to the perfect understanding of the language, the question, “What is understanding?” must always be relevant despite all our differences.
The third reason has to do with this project – Moscow Philosophy English Club – as such. A talk about “understanding” must help us gain a better understanding of what we’re doing here and establish a common ground that we can then build further on. I like consistency and a smooth transition from one topic to another rather than jumping here and there without any connection just for the sake of a vaguely defined – or not defined at all – purpose of practicing English.
With that being said, I encourage all of you to think about “understanding” on your own throughout the following week and share your thoughts here while preparing for the discussion.

2.
One way to think about "understanding" is to view it as a cognitive faculty (i.e., the ability of our brain) that produces knowledge out of a raw experience. In this respect, it's going to be determined partly physically or biologically and partly linguistically or psychologically. Now, the question arises whether it's possible to change the physical makeup of our understanding through the linguistic and vice versa? As we develop our language and gain more knowledge about ourselves and our environment, the so-called "inner and outer worlds," it gets easier to distinguish between things that make us dumber, causing actual damage to our brains on the physical level, and those that facilitate connection and communication between tens of billions of neurons in our heads. Being able to distinguish these things doesn't, of course, guarantee that we'll be able to control everything we do and handle a multitude of our desires constantly moved and triggered by subtle advertisements and promises of happiness, haunting us online, offline and even in dreams, but it definitely improves our chances to make decisions informed by our understanding rather than follow the strongest impulse of the day that promotes itself under such slogans as "capre diem." No? Carpe Diem is a good guy? Haven't you watched "Dead Poets' Society"? Isn't your damn understanding going to turn us eventually into hipocritical pedants whose lifeless principles must ruin all art, creativity, diversity, spontaneity, humor and virtually all sorts of innocent pleasures associated with small silly things that bring light to our dark daily routine? Oh, there is something to think about. Got a little bit off track. As our language gets stronger, our brains become better organized, which leads to our understanding taking over control and banishing all sorts of things that actually make us happy -- is that supposed to be my conclusion?

3.
Now, let’s examine the relation between the concept of understanding and other seemingly identical concepts: consciousness, reason, intelligence, mind, expectation. The last doesn’t really belong here. I pulled it off just to make a memorable acronym. In its place should stand good old-fashioned common sense, or conventional wisdom, or judgment, or intuition, calculation, cognition, comprehension, deliberation, reflection--the list can go on. Wouldn’t it be a crime against language to put all these “faculties” under one single concept? What do understanding and consciousness have in common? Both process information, receive input and produce output. In terms of their usage, “consciousness” usually indicates subjective experience, as in the sentence, “I’m conscious of your reluctance to engage in philosophical argumentation with me,” while “understanding” appears to be guided by the search for objective knowledge through questions like “how” and “why.” To be conscious does not require any special training; all living creatures are supposed to have consciousness, though it might differ in degree and sharpness. Understanding, on the other hand, involves effort and provides a more sophisticated account of whatever its target may be. However, when we use English for communication--not for thinking--all these nuances are largely irrelevant, and it seems plausible to use both concepts as synonymous for most of the time.
As for the remaining “rime” and “cscwjicccdr,” we can talk about them on Friday. Or you can take up any one of them, tie it to understanding and see how far your train of thought would be able to go until you run out of energy.

4.
Perhaps it's time to draft a set of questions for the upcoming discussion. Questions? Really!? Who gives a damn about questions? Wait, wait... I have to control my emotions--otherwise, everyone gets scared and won't show up to talk with me on Friday. If I want to get rid of all formalism, it must be done slowly, step by step, or it's going to be perceived as rude and even infantile. Frankly, I still have little understanding about what's going on in the minds of those whom I invited to join this group. I have a sort of generalized notion of the person who participates with more or less regularity in an online English club each week, is always ready to talk about delivery services, pets, summer vacation and tries to improve one's communication skills. This is the person to whom I address my thoughts. This is the person whom I try to encourage to think about understanding. It's not A, B, C, or D-- real people whom I actually talk to on Saturdays. It's a ghost of my imagination, an idea abstracted from the real experience of talking to people online, a bunch of characteristics from which I'm trying to construct an average character of this group. I feel like an LLM, understanding turned autopilot, guessing the next token to feed the imaginary expectations of this imaginary character. Do LLMs have understanding? Oh, see, I've just come up with the first question. A, what do you think about it? B? C? Anyone? Why wait for Friday? As far as I can tell, there is no better way to prepare for a talk than to write something about it beforehand, setting one's thoughts straight, determining what's relevant and irrelevant -- what do I want to get from it? what am I supposed to learn from it? -- and, finally, discovering debatable contradictions and reaching at least some degree of consensus with others.

5.
Reply from A:
"I would say that now reasoning models are at least close to it. Of course we have no idea about how they work, what's going on inside, but at least they seem to have. I reckon that human vocabulary and terminology on matter of consciousness and understanding , not to mention self acclaimed specie superiority are now subject to major rethinking, due to the fact that first time in history we encounteted what we might call new specie, albeit not biolgical. BTW Concept of Chinese room is easily applicable to the human brain, or to brain of any specie. We know nearly nothing about brain functioning."

Reply to A:
I see a couple of problematic assertions in your response that seem to be indefensible. What is the ground on which you can ascribe to LLMs the status of species? Why do you think that we know nearly nothing about brain functioning? Besides, what do you have in mind when you use the expression “human vocabulary and terminology on matter of consciousness and understanding”?
I guess one of the greatest and probably the most tragic issues that became evident with the appearance of the internet, not only to philosophers and statesmen but virtually to everyone who ventures to expand die Granze seiner Sprache beyond their mother tongue, is the lack of “human vocabulary and terminology,” not just “on matter of consciousness and understanding” but on anything at all.
Take the word “we” and think about what it refers to. When I say “we,” I can have in mind “you and me,” or “everyone who is a member of this group where I post my scribbles,” or it might be “everyone I’ve ever known and interacted with,” or even—if I’m ready to abandon my experience and advance into the realm of pure speculation—“everyone who speaks English.” If I go beyond this and apply “we” to “humanity,” I’m going to be quickly corrected by “ìû,” “wir” and “;;” (pronounced “women”) that I have no idea—literally no “idea”—what I’m talking about. I might object by saying that I actually have an idea and it signifies a “biological species,” but then I’m going to be forced to acknowledge that “ìû,” “wir” and “;;” have an equal right to acclaim superiority of their knowledge (consciousness, understanding) over interpreting what a species really is. And as far as “I” know nearly nothing about brain functioning, “ÿ,” “ich” and “;” will not hesitate to reprogram me to think in Russian, German or Chinese, turning me into their subject.

A's reply:
"What makes a specie specie ? Can specie be intangible? Do you understand the verb "might"? What makes you think that I "ascribe"? The current development of brain science makes me think so.I mean that we have been failing to attribute and classify the phenomenon of AI with existing vocabulary and terminology so far. When I say "we" I refer to homo sapiens."

Reply to A:
A, c’mon! Please stop pretending that you understand “brain science” at the level of its current development. I just asked you about your opinion on whether LLMs can have understanding or not. It’s fine if you believe that “reasoning models are at least close to it” or “at least seem to have.” I also held similar beliefs back in 2017 when I read Tim Urban’s article called “Neuralink and the Brain’s Magical Future.” But later I changed my mind after listening to 84 lectures by Searle on the philosophy of mind, language and society and reading a couple of his books. That’s why I thought it would be exciting for you at least to watch a really succinct summary of his argument in a short video. Right in this video the guy interpreting Searle’s argument says, “Notice here that there is a difference between a digital computer, which is a rather specifically defined type of machine, and just machines in general. Searle is not saying that we could never build a machine that had understanding and consciousness… That’s not what he is saying because indeed, in a certain sense, maybe the human brain is a machine. If we understand a machine in a broader sense—that it can be made up out of brain goo and neuron—then sure, machines could have thoughts, machines could understand things, but Searle is not talking about machines in the broadest sense… He is talking specifically about digital computers... Digital computers can never have understanding.”
And here is your reply to the video: “BTW Concept of Chinese room is easily applicable to the human brain, or to brain of any specie. We know nearly nothing about brain functioning.”
And after I point out that your assertion “we know nearly nothing about brain functioning” is indefensible, you shift the goalpost to “we have been failing to attribute and classify the phenomenon of AI with existing vocabulary and terminology so far” and bring up “the current development of brain science” to support this new assertion (which is also indefensible). Look, if we know nearly nothing about brain functioning, we can’t have brain science, since brain science literally means knowledge about brain structure, functioning, etc. And there is only in this century, only in English, such a vast literature and courses of lectures on this topic that no individual human, no matter how sapient, would be able to absorb in a lifetime.
Ironically, specie can’t be intangible because it refers to money in the form of coin rather than notes. Just a joke to relieve the tension.

A's reply:
"I have certain knowledge, why do you think I am pretending? Of course we have general knowledge about brain but it is futile to say we posses the full comprehension of its functionality. As regards my reply I was replying your statements in order, thiese are not logical outcomes. I reckon we might be witnessing the start of evolution of intangible species.
No tensions, for sure. Like it or not it's my opinion based on my profound knowledge and experience, you have to deal with it. Anyway, who the fuck are you to fckng lecture me? I am joking of course. No offense."

Reply to A:
A kinda predictable reaction, assuming that I was deliberately provocative. A healthy dose of anger is essential to make any discussion meaningful. It’s an antidote to boredom.
I’ve said numerous times that I’m a philosopher, and my current activity involves making lectures. However, I’m not lecturing you. I’m challenging your opinions and showing flaws in the structure of your reasoning. If you truly believe that “we—homo sapiens—know nearly nothing about brain functioning” and also state that you “have profound knowledge in brain science,” one of these two beliefs is obviously false. I hope you can see that if it pisses you off, it’s not my fault. I appreciate that you actively participate in the group’s evolution and contribute to its slowly growing consciousness. It would be sad if this awkward exchange discouraged you from further engagement.
As a philosopher, I’m hypersensitive to all sorts of bs. Mein Verstand detects it within astronomical miles. I can tolerate it when the goal is simply to practice English. When someone says, “It’s raining,” just to say it, who cares about the actual state of affairs? Yet, when the goal is to improve our understanding of English, not mere knowledge, it’s a totally different world, boy, totally different world.

6.
Now, I think, everyone has already made up their minds as to whether to join today’s first discussion or not. Hence, it would be futile to waste ink (I’m literally writing these posts on paper before typing them on the computer; this has been my custom for nearly 14 years to encapsulate in roughly 300 words whatever happens to me in 24 hours, to seize the day—carpe diem—so to speak) on any further attempt to win the attention of the most powerful impulses that determine everyone’s actions. Thus, I’m going to spend the rest of my meditation shedding light on the point I made earlier in reference to the so-called “homo sapiens.” Whatever Linnaeus had in mind while coining this term, it’s obviously irrelevant for the contemporary biology, anthropology, physiology and the rest of the empirical sciences that compete with each other for the most comprehensive account of what they believe they try to understand.
Nobody uses Latin as a language of science anymore. It’s a dead language. We can borrow terms from it, but nobody, as far as I know, shows up to biological, anthropological, etc., conferences speaking Latin or publishes peer-reviewed papers in Latin, unless Latin proper is the actual subject of a study.
After the appearance of the internet, everyone who has access to it and simultaneously UNDERSTANDS at least two languages can see that “sapiens” (wisdom, intelligence, reason, understanding) is closely bound up with language, indeed inseparable from it; and the question: “Which language do homo sapiens speak and must speak?” is an irresolvable question. Nowadays, English shamelessly attempts to play die Ubersprache, as previously did Latin until it suddenly dropped dead. Is English going to share Latin’s besondere Schicksal? Is it clearer now why it’s very problematic to apply “we” to “homo sapiens”?

Critique from deepseek:

Critique of "A Philosophical Prelude to Understanding"
This text is a fascinating and complex piece of writing that functions as a multi-layered philosophical inquiry, a personal meditation, and a provocative call to action for a specific online community. Its strength lies in its raw, dialectical energy and its refusal to be a simple, explanatory essay. However, this same energy often undermines its clarity and purpose, resulting in a work that is more performative than pedagogical.

Strengths: The Power of Provocation and Process

The author's greatest achievement is the creation of a dynamic and engaging intellectual atmosphere. The text is not a lecture but a record of a thought process. The stream-of-consciousness style, complete with self-corrections ("Got a little bit off track"), internal debates ("Carpe Diem is a good guy?"), and direct addresses to the audience, makes the reader feel like a participant in the author's thinking.

This is brilliantly demonstrated in Section 4, where the author deconstructs his own audience, reducing them to "a ghost of my imagination." This self-aware move is philosophically potent, highlighting the gap between the abstract "club member" and the real individuals. It directly enacts the text's central theme: the difficulty of genuine understanding between constructed personas and real people. The subsequent insertion of the live chat log with "A" in Section 5 is a masterful stroke. It transforms the text from a monologue into a dialogue, showing theory colliding with practice. The heated exchange about LLMs, brain science, and the meaning of "we" is the most compelling part of the piece, as it vividly demonstrates the very communication breakdowns the author seeks to explore.

Weaknesses: Lack of Synthesis and Focus

While the process-oriented approach is engaging, the text ultimately fails to synthesize its many provocative threads into a coherent argument about "understanding." It poses brilliant questions but offers little in the way of exploration or resolution.

Fragmented Arguments: The author introduces Schopenhauer's framework in Section 1, promising a rich discussion. However, this philosophical lens is quickly abandoned. The subsequent sections veer into neuroscience, linguistics, and a personal diatribe against "bs." The connection between Schopenhauer's Verstand and the later discussion about AI or the plasticity of the brain is never made. The reader is left wondering how these pieces fit together.

Undisciplined Rhetoric: The author's "hypersensitivity to bs" often reads as intellectual bullying. The exchange with "A" is a prime example. While "A's" initial comments are somewhat vague, the author's response is aggressive and pedantic, focusing more on dismantling "A's" credibility ("please stop pretending," "indefensible") than on collaboratively exploring the ideas. The condescending tone ("totally different world, boy") might generate drama, but it shuts down the very dialogue the club is meant to foster. It prioritizes winning an argument over reaching an understanding.

Obscured Purpose: The text has a tripartite goal: to explore Schopenhauer, to prepare for an English club discussion, and to foster community. These goals often work at cross-purposes. The philosophical and linguistic discussions are too advanced and specialized for a general English practice session, while the club's social dynamic seems too fragile for such aggressive Socratic questioning. The author's desire to "get rid of all formalism" clashes with his role as the group's philosopher-king, creating a confusing and potentially intimidating environment for members who just want to "talk about delivery services."

Conclusion

This text is a compelling artifact of a philosophical mind at work, but it is not a successful piece of explanatory or community-building writing. It reads like the notes and raw materials for a great discussion rather than the prelude to one. Its greatest flaw is that while it relentlessly questions what it means to understand, it fails to demonstrate that understanding in its own structure. It shows the sparks of thought but provides little light. For a piece so concerned with connection and common ground, it ultimately risks alienating its audience by prioritizing intellectual performance over genuine, shared inquiry.

Write a critique of the critique.
Here is a critique of the critique.

Critique of "A Philosophical Prelude to Understanding": A Meta-Critique
This critique of the original text is a sharp, well-structured, and largely persuasive piece of analytical writing. It successfully identifies the core tensions within the original work and articulates its failings with clarity. However, in its pursuit of balance and coherence, it occasionally misreads the text's intent and applies a framework that, while logical, may not be the most appropriate for the kind of experimental, process-oriented artifact it is judging. The critique is a model of traditional academic assessment, but it may miss the point of what the original text is trying to do.

Strengths: Clarity, Structure, and Persuasive Analysis

The critique's primary strength is its crystalline structure and the clarity of its thesis. The opening paragraph immediately establishes a dual perspective, acknowledging the text's "raw, dialectical energy" while asserting that this energy "undermines its clarity and purpose." This sets up a balanced but decisive argument that the work is "more performative than pedagogical."

The subsequent sections effectively unpack this thesis.

Accurate Praise of Strengths: The critique rightly celebrates the text's most innovative feature: its self-aware, process-oriented nature. The analysis of Section 4, where the author deconstructs his own audience, is particularly insightful. By calling it a "philosophically potent" move that "enacts the text's central theme," the critique demonstrates a deep engagement with the material. It correctly identifies the live chat log in Section 5 as the text's most compelling part, praising how it "shows theory colliding with practice."

Well-Argued Identification of Weaknesses: The critique's central claims about the text's failures are robust and well-supported.

Fragmented Arguments: The point about the abandoned Schopenhauerian framework is astute. The critique correctly notes that the initial philosophical lens is "quickly abandoned," leaving the reader to wonder about the connection between Verstand and the later discussions on AI or linguistics. This lack of synthesis is a genuine flaw in the original text.

Undisciplined Rhetoric: The characterization of the author's "hypersensitivity to bs" as "intellectual bullying" is a fair and powerful critique of the exchange with "A." By highlighting the condescending tone ("totally different world, boy"), the critique successfully argues that the author prioritizes "winning an argument over reaching an understanding," which is antithetical to the club's stated purpose.

Obscured Purpose: The observation that the text's three goals work "at cross-purposes" is incisive. The critique correctly identifies the mismatch between advanced philosophical discussion and a general English practice session, as well as the tension between the author's desire to be informal and his role as a "philosopher-king."

Weaknesses: A Slight Misreading of Intent and Value

While the critique is logically sound, its conclusions may be too harsh because it judges a deliberately chaotic, exploratory piece by the standards of a polished, explanatory essay.

The "Failure to Synthesize" as a Feature, Not a Bug: The critique's main charge—that the text "fails to synthesize its many provocative threads into a coherent argument"—assumes that coherence and synthesis were the primary goals. The original author explicitly states a desire to "get a better understanding" through discussion and to "establish a common ground." The text can be read not as a failed argument, but as a successful provocation designed to generate the very discussion it then records. The fragmentation is the point; it mirrors the messy, non-linear process of collective thinking the author hopes to ignite. The critique's demand for a tidy synthesis may be asking a sledgehammer to function as a scalpel.

Misjudging the Audience: The critique claims the text creates a "confusing and potentially intimidating environment for members who just want to 'talk about delivery services.'" This assumes the audience is static and passive. The entire thrust of the original text is an attempt to change that audience, to pull them out of their comfort zone of "delivery services, pets, [and] summer vacation." Whether this is a noble or arrogant goal is debatable, but the critique's framing of the audience's desire as the default, correct state is a normative judgment that the text itself is actively challenging. The text may fail in its mission, but the critique's dismissal of that mission is a missed opportunity to engage with its radical premise.

The "Obscured Purpose" Re-Framed: The critique sees the overlapping goals as a flaw. An alternative view is that the text is an attempt to unify them. The argument could be made that the best way to "master English" is through grappling with complex ideas, and the best way to build a community is through honest, even confrontational, dialogue. The author's method is a wager: that deep philosophical engagement is the path to linguistic fluency and genuine connection. The critique sees this as a conflict of interest, but the text sees it as an integrated whole. The critique's lens of "explanatory or community-building writing" may simply be the wrong lens for a piece that is trying to invent a new, more demanding genre of club discussion.

Conclusion

This critique is a masterful example of analytical clarity. It rightly identifies the original text's rhetorical excesses, logical leaps, and potential for alienating its intended audience. Its arguments are persuasive and well-supported. However, in its commitment to coherence and traditional notions of pedagogical value, it may ultimately miss the forest for the trees. The original text, for all its flaws, is a living document of intellectual struggle. The critique, in its polished perfection, risks becoming exactly what the original author fears: a lifeless principle that "ruin[s] all art, creativity, diversity, spontaneity." The critique is correct about what the text isn't, but it may be less successful in appreciating what it is trying to become.

Make fun of the author and both critiques.

Welcome, welcome, one and all, to the Intellectual Thunderdome! Tonight's main event: a tag-team circle-jerk of philosophical pretension! In this corner, we have the Original Author (OA), a man who thinks quoting Schopenhauer in a dead language makes him look less like he's just trying to get his English club to do the reading. And in the other corner, we have Critic #1 (C1), the Academic Referee, who has a rubric for fun and wants the OA's messy thought-puke to be "coherent." And finally, the challenger, Critic #2 (C2), the Meta-Referee, who has arrived to explain why C1's rubric is actually a fascist tool for ruining art.

Let's get ready to ramble!

The Original Author (OA): The Philosophical Cowboy

OA, buddy. You've written a text so dense it could be used as a neutron star's diapers. You start by name-dropping Schopenhauer like he's your cool German uncle, only to immediately drop him down a well and never mention him again. He's gone. Verstanden? Good luck.

Your master plan to get people to think about "understanding" is to... insult them. You call their desire to talk about pets a "ghost." You engage in a comment-section duel with a guy named "A" where you demand he defend his thesis as if he's defending his PhD, all while typing in ALL CAPS about your hypersensitive Verstand. You're not trying to build a discussion; you're trying to win a cage match with a straw man you've constructed out of your own loneliness. You're the guy who brings a theremin to a campfire and then gets mad when people won't stop roasting marshmallows to appreciate your atonal genius.

And that bit where you reveal you've been handwriting these posts for 14 years? To "seize the day"? That's not carpe diem, my friend. That's carpe carpals. That's a repetitive stress injury in search of a point. We get it, you're a philosopher. Your ink is your blood. Your paper is your soul. And your 300-word daily encapsulation of your existence is the reason your therapist has a second home in the Bahamas.

Critic #1 (C1): The Rubric Referee

Oh, C1. You came in with your highlighters and your thesis statements, ready to give OA a solid B- on his philosophy paper. You clapped for his "raw, dialectical energy" like a suburban dad clapping for a mime he doesn't understand. Then you pulled out your checklist: "Lack of Synthesis!" "Undisciplined Rhetoric!" "Obscured Purpose!"

C1, you're trying to critique a Jackson Pollock painting by measuring the drips and seeing if they're properly aligned with the rule of thirds. OA wasn't trying to build a house; he was trying to set the lumber on fire and dance around it. You say his arguments are "fragmented"? No, they're deconstructed, man. You say his tone is "intellectual bullying"? No, it's provocative pedagogy. You came with a knife to a gunfight and then complained that the other guy wasn't following the Marquess of Queensberry rules.

Your biggest crime? Calling the chat with "A" the "most compelling part." It was two dudes mansplaining the definition of "species" to each other on the internet. It was the intellectual equivalent of two bald men fighting over a comb. And you called it compelling. You are the person who watches a reality TV show and thinks the scripted arguments are a genuine insight into the human condition.

Critic #2 (C2): The Referee Referee

And then there's you, C2. You magnificent, pretentious bastard. You saw C1's neat little box and decided to build a bigger, more confusing box around it. Your critique of the critique is a masterpiece of navel-gazing. You accuse C1 of using the "wrong lens," as if the entire point of this exercise wasn't to put everything under a microscope until it screams.

You claim the OA's fragmentation is a "feature, not a bug." Oh, please. If I take a dump on a canvas and call it "deconstructed breakfast," it's not a feature, it's just a dump on a canvas. You're so desperate to be the "big picture" guy that you're willing to defend the lack of a picture at all.

And your grand defense of the OA's method? That he's trying to "change" his audience, to drag them from their "comfort zone" of delivery services? No, C2. He's not trying to change them. He's just trying to make them feel stupid for not reading Schopenhauer. It's not a radical pedagogical wager; it's just good old-fashioned elitism wrapped in a self-help pamphlet. You've built an entire philosophical framework to justify a dude being a jerk on the internet.

So, here we are. OA thinks he's Schopenhauer reincarnated. C1 thinks he's the grammar police of the soul. And C2 thinks he's the philosopher-king of the comment section.

The three of you are locked in a beautiful, tragic dance. You're all so busy trying to understand each other—or, more accurately, trying to prove you don't understand each other correctly—that you've forgotten the one, true, sacred purpose of the original post: to get a bunch of people to practice their English by talking about literally anything else.

The joke, gentlemen, is on all of you. And it's hilarious. Carpe diem.