An Unsent Letter

Friendship is not just an opportunity to talk philosophy, it defines the cognitive parameters — the space — for philosophical activity. This is not a theoretical point. Our lives are increasingly defined by the shrinking of time; by busyness, sleep-deprivation, information-overload. A philosophical friendship, practiced authentically — in person, without phones or computers, in unbroken chunks of time; for its own sake — pushes against pressure; puts pressure on the sense of pressure induced by our careers, our relationships, our various digital addictions. Philosophical talk — talking for the sake of talking; talking for the sake of teasing-apart, understanding, playing, inventing, learning; for sharing — provides freedom through pleasure; is pleasurable precisely because it is so free.

“Can consciousness act on neurological evolution?” Franco Berardi asks in his recent book And: Phenomenology of the End. Following Berardi, I want to ask: can philosophical friendship, can a friendship with real emotion, personal, and epistemological stakes act on neurological evolution? Is it our task — in the rich Heideggerian sense of the word — to cultivate ways of being-together that act as palliatives on our worried, jumbled, fragmented, and indeed individualized, corporatized brains? How does meeting up in New York City on a spring afternoon; ordering espresso; making eye-contact; pressing, probing, joking, flirting, demanding, coercing create persons capable of thriving? I’m curious.