When Martin Heidegger (1889-1976) wrote Being and Time, he outlined a framework of thinking and speaking about philosophy that emphasized the historical nature of each individual, or as he called it, the Dasein. In following up on this notion of the historicity of the Dasein’s life and works, Hans-Georg Gadamer (1900-2002) established a unique perspective on the interpretation of texts. Central to Gadamer’s theory of hermeneutics is the concept of prejudice, specifically as it relates to the way we read a text from a time apart from (and inclusive of) the contemporary. Following Heidegger’s lead, in a sense, he rejects the idea of absolute objectivity put forth by the Enlightenment thinkers and invites us to re-think our presuppositions in light of the fact that we are historical beings, and must understand texts in historical context. In order to explore the ways in which Heidegger’s concept of historicity plays into Gadamer’s theory of hermeneutics, it will be necessary to examine the contrast between the way in which we use the word prejudice in contemporary vernacular and the more nuanced meaning Gadamer wishes to express; to consider whether Gadamer successfully rehabilitates the concept of prejudice in contemporary thinking; and finally to answer whether Gadamer himself is a reactionary.

When we hear today the word “prejudice,” we are apt to think of examples of racial or sexual discrimination. Crucially, we tend to have a self-reinforcing notion of prejudice as necessarily negative because we speak of heinous violations of civil rights on meaningless bases (that is to say, unfounded) as being prejudiced actions. Our notion of prejudice as an “unfounded judgment,” Gadamer claims, hails directly from Enlightenment-era religious critique, at which point truths that were not based in a particular methodology were rejected, even if they were in fact correct. Gadamer points out that the problem of Enlightenment thinking was that it was “prejudiced against prejudices,” and specifically prejudice itself; that which was rational and, especially, empirically verifiable, was acceptable. It is important to note here that rational judgment must eventually be brought to bear on prejudices themselves to find them out as true or false, even though, as Gadamer notes, “the task can never be fully completed.”

If for the Enlightenment, tradition has no authority to inform us of the validity of a text or even of a statement; and if all prejudices will cause us to fall into errors of being, as it were, “too quick to judge” or simply “overhastiness,” as Gadamer says—then the Romantic period following the Enlightenment merely succeeds in perpetuating the artificial schism between myth (in its more nuanced sense) and reason. Insofar as it accepts that divide, the Romantic era conjures up the mirror image of the Enlightenment’s problems of interpretation, giving tradition the judgment seat, in spite of reason. But Gadamer points to this as an example of a kind of willful ignorance—we have prejudices, whether we like that fact or not, and we must deal with them.

Furthermore, however, it is not merely that we must deal with prejudices, as though they were hindrances to our understanding; but rather, we must embrace them as a part of our being-in-the-world in a Heideggerian sense. Gadamer is willing to concede the point that reason, as our mode by which we arrive at truth, is atemporal in an important sense—at least in the sense that truth itself is atemporal. However, we have our own sets of prejudices precisely because we dwell inside history and have our own ways of utilizing judgment through the prejudices that arise in us because of our historical nature. That is to say, in his own words, “the prejudices of the individual, far more than his judments, constitute the historical reality of his being.”

Thus, Gadamer takes it upon himself to rehabilitate the notion of prejudice, to breathe new life into the concept as a positive and dynamic force. Specifically, he addresses the matters of authority and tradition in a new light, while taking seriously the Enlightenment critique of the two. Ultimately, he says, the unquestioning acceptance of authority simply where it asserts itself (even if it is in a Biblical text) is irresponsible in its neglect to use reason at all; and it is the fault of becoming overhasty in our judgments—using reason merely to bolster the appearances of what we expect to see—that can lead to belief in nonsense, on the opposite end of the spectrum. However, we must sometimes take as true the words of an authority figure as a point of departure for our own inquiries, such as Aquinas’ Fides quaerens intellectum, faith (i.e., acceptance of divine authority) seeking understanding; or less archetypal examples, such as the neophyte under an experienced teacher. Acknowledgment of authority, then, for Gadamer, is “always connected with the idea that what the authority says is not irrational and arbitrary but can, in principle, be discovered to be true.”

Romanticism, furthermore, defends (with nevertheless unhelpful abandon) the authority of tradition, contrary to Enlightenment thought. Gadamer wishes to take up this defense, but with a more temperate outlook. He takes great care in noting that that which has been handed down to us historically has at least as much influence over our behavior as do the rational judgments that we’ve consciously made. Preservation, for Gadamer, is as much a conscious act as revolution, and the responsibility of every person is to question his own prejudices—insofar as texts outside his realm of experience bring them to light—and to see how they are affecting his interpretation of a text.

Contrary to Enlightenment thinking, it is neither necessary nor possible in Gadamer’s conception of hermeneutics to attempt to enter into the mind of the author of a text; and even more impossible is the perfect intellectual placement of oneself into that time period. Instead, the onus is on the interpreter to call his own prejudices into question in light of the ones that are clear to him in the text before him—and more than that, to see the truth within even what the author himself wished to convey. For this reason, Gadamer can say that “the meaning of a text [always] goes beyond its author.”6 Prejudice, therefore, is an indispensable tool in the historical interpretation of a text, and not something to be eschewed; especially since, after all, we are incapable of that Enlightenment ideal. If we are to really think historically, we have to take our own historicity into account.

It seems that, for those who are reading him, Gadamer does succeed in rehabilitating the notion of prejudice in a positive light. Whether this notion will catch on is, regrettably, questionable: in a tragic catch-22, most people are unaware that an Enlightenment ideal against prejudgments of any kind in favor of “the absolute objectivity of science” is even affecting their world-views. I think Gadamer succeeds in not being reactionary in his position, and if he is to be criticized, it is for borrowing Heidegger’s framework and fleshing it out in a hermeneutical context. It seems, though, that he deserves for this to be lauded and not criticized. He makes a fascinating case for prejudice; and not only for that, but for our being aware of our own prejudices. I respect his effort to expose the things his readers probably take for granted; but I am also well aware that the majority of his audience comprise the choir to which he’s preaching. Therefore, whether his message will reach “the masses” is a tenuous position at best, but if the academics become convinced, so will laypeople, however gradually.

(Reference: Moran, D., & Mooney, T. (2002). The Phenomenology Reader. Routledge: London.)

When Martin Heidegger (1889-1976) wrote Being and Time, he outlined a framework of thinking and speaking about philosophy that emphasized the historical nature of each individual, or as he called it, the Dasein. In following up on this notion of the historicity of the Dasein’s life and works, Hans-Georg Gadamer (1900-2002) established a unique perspective on the interpretation of texts. Central to Gadamer’s theory of hermeneutics is the concept of prejudice, specifically as it relates to the way we read a text from a time apart from (and inclusive of) the contemporary. Following Heidegger’s lead, in a sense, he rejects the idea of absolute objectivity put forth by the Enlightenment thinkers and invites us to re-think our presuppositions in light of the fact that we are historical beings, and must understand texts in historical context. In order to explore the ways in which Heidegger’s concept of historicity plays into Gadamer’s theory of hermeneutics, it will be necessary to examine the contrast between the way in which we use the word prejudice in contemporary vernacular and the more nuanced meaning Gadamer wishes to express; to consider whether Gadamer successfully rehabilitates the concept of prejudice in contemporary thinking; and finally to answer whether Gadamer himself is a reactionary.

When we hear today the word “prejudice,” we are apt to think of examples of racial or sexual discrimination. Crucially, we tend to have a self-reinforcing notion of prejudice as necessarily negative because we speak of heinous violations of civil rights on meaningless bases (that is to say, unfounded) as being prejudiced actions. Our notion of prejudice as an “unfounded judgment,” Gadamer claims, hails directly from Enlightenment-era religious critique, at which point truths that were not based in a particular methodology were rejected, even if they were in fact correct. Gadamer points out that the problem of Enlightenment thinking was that it was “prejudiced against prejudices,” and specifically prejudice itself; that which was rational and, especially, empirically verifiable, was acceptable. It is important to note here that rational judgment must eventually be brought to bear on prejudices themselves to find them out as true or false, even though, as Gadamer notes, “the task can never be fully completed.”

If for the Enlightenment, tradition has no authority to inform us of the validity of a text or even of a statement; and if all prejudices will cause us to fall into errors of being, as it were, “too quick to judge” or simply “overhastiness,” as Gadamer says—then the Romantic period following the Enlightenment merely succeeds in perpetuating the artificial schism between myth (in its more nuanced sense) and reason. Insofar as it accepts that divide, the Romantic era conjures up the mirror image of the Enlightenment’s problems of interpretation, giving tradition the judgment seat, in spite of reason. But Gadamer points to this as an example of a kind of willful ignorance—we have prejudices, whether we like that fact or not, and we must deal with them.

Furthermore, however, it is not merely that we must deal with prejudices, as though they were hindrances to our understanding; but rather, we must embrace them as a part of our being-in-the-world in a Heideggerian sense. Gadamer is willing to concede the point that reason, as our mode by which we arrive at truth, is atemporal in an important sense—at least in the sense that truth itself is atemporal. However, we have our own sets of prejudices precisely because we dwell inside history and have our own ways of utilizing judgment through the prejudices that arise in us because of our historical nature. That is to say, in his own words, “the prejudices of the individual, far more than his judments, constitute the historical reality of his being.”

Thus, Gadamer takes it upon himself to rehabilitate the notion of prejudice, to breathe new life into the concept as a positive and dynamic force. Specifically, he addresses the matters of authority and tradition in a new light, while taking seriously the Enlightenment critique of the two. Ultimately, he says, the unquestioning acceptance of authority simply where it asserts itself (even if it is in a Biblical text) is irresponsible in its neglect to use reason at all; and it is the fault of becoming overhasty in our judgments—using reason merely to bolster the appearances of what we expect to see—that can lead to belief in nonsense, on the opposite end of the spectrum. However, we must sometimes take as true the words of an authority figure as a point of departure for our own inquiries, such as Aquinas’ Fides quaerens intellectum, faith (i.e., acceptance of divine authority) seeking understanding; or less archetypal examples, such as the neophyte under an experienced teacher. Acknowledgment of authority, then, for Gadamer, is “always connected with the idea that what the authority says is not irrational and arbitrary but can, in principle, be discovered to be true.”

Romanticism, furthermore, defends (with nevertheless unhelpful abandon) the authority of tradition, contrary to Enlightenment thought. Gadamer wishes to take up this defense, but with a more temperate outlook. He takes great care in noting that that which has been handed down to us historically has at least as much influence over our behavior as do the rational judgments that we’ve consciously made. Preservation, for Gadamer, is as much a conscious act as revolution, and the responsibility of every person is to question his own prejudices—insofar as texts outside his realm of experience bring them to light—and to see how they are affecting his interpretation of a text.

Contrary to Enlightenment thinking, it is neither necessary nor possible in Gadamer’s conception of hermeneutics to attempt to enter into the mind of the author of a text; and even more impossible is the perfect intellectual placement of oneself into that time period. Instead, the onus is on the interpreter to call his own prejudices into question in light of the ones that are clear to him in the text before him—and more than that, to see the truth within even what the author himself wished to convey. For this reason, Gadamer can say that “the meaning of a text [always] goes beyond its author.”6 Prejudice, therefore, is an indispensable tool in the historical interpretation of a text, and not something to be eschewed; especially since, after all, we are incapable of that Enlightenment ideal. If we are to really think historically, we have to take our own historicity into account.

It seems that, for those who are reading him, Gadamer does succeed in rehabilitating the notion of prejudice in a positive light. Whether this notion will catch on is, regrettably, questionable: in a tragic catch-22, most people are unaware that an Enlightenment ideal against prejudgments of any kind in favor of “the absolute objectivity of science” is even affecting their world-views. I think Gadamer succeeds in not being reactionary in his position, and if he is to be criticized, it is for borrowing Heidegger’s framework and fleshing it out in a hermeneutical context. It seems, though, that he deserves for this to be lauded and not criticized. He makes a fascinating case for prejudice; and not only for that, but for our being aware of our own prejudices. I respect his effort to expose the things his readers probably take for granted; but I am also well aware that the majority of his audience comprise the choir to which he’s preaching. Therefore, whether his message will reach “the masses” is a tenuous position at best, but if the academics become convinced, so will laypeople, however gradually.

(Reference: Moran, D., & Mooney, T. (2002). The Phenomenology Reader. Routledge: London.)