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1. I and Thou

Published by James Knight

| 4 min read

Summary

Austrian-born philospher Martin Buber[1] wrote that there are two modes of engaging with others. The predominant mode places I over the objectified other (It). This is the mode that modern humanity almost exclusively uses.

The second mode, which creates a unique and transforming relationship with the Other, has been neglected in the modern world to the detriment of us all.

Regaining this second mode will address our sense of lack of fulfilment and alienation because it restores a vital part of our humanity.


Who am I?

I by itself is not a meaningful unit. There cannot be an I without an Other. I can only be I when the unspoken other is understood. I cannot exist in isolation. I always references a relationship.

In this written conversation, for example – between me the writer and you the reader – I means I-in-relation-to-you. This particular voice I cannot exist without you the reader (although, when I write for you, you are still imaginary, to be found in the future).

I don't exist beyond relationship

So we have a relationship, and every lone-standing I is actually implicitly referring to You. I am shaped by my relationship with you, just as you are shaped by your relationship with me. Neither you or I exist as we are beyond this relationship. Which is to say that we are as much our relationship as we are ourself.

Buber suggests that these relationships have two very different qualities and modes of engagement, which he names I-Thou and I-It[2].

I and It

I-It is a familiar mode of engaging with the world for most of us. In this mode, we collect data, analyse, classify, and theorise about it. The It is a thing to be used and utilised, to be known, or to be put to some purpose. There is necessarily some distance between the experiencing I and the experienced It. One is subject, and the other object[3].

It is, almost exclusively, how we get through our days in this world.

I and Thou

Although I-It is the predominant mode of engaging with the world, another is both possible and necessary if we are to be fully human. The mode of I-Thou is one of encounter, where we become aware of the relationship with the object encountered, we participate with that object, and both the I and the Thou are transformed by the event of the relationship[4].

The It World

Having identified these two fundamental modes of engaging, Buber states that the modern world is entirely based upon the mode of I-It. Politics, economics, public institutions, even much of personal life, are all fundamentally grounded in the fact that we view every other being as an It, rather than as a You[5].

From there, he takes a short and persuasive step to suggest that the existential angst we all experience at points in our lives is the result of our strict reliance on our objectifying and objectified experience to the exclusion of encounter.

Strange Encounters

The solution to the angst is to open ourselves up to encounter and re-build our I in relation to You. But every encounter is fleeting – as soon as we reflect upon the You it perforce becomes an It again.

Once we have experienced an encounter, we feel that there could be something more – something more lasting and fulfilling. This "more" is encounter with god or absolute relation. We cannot create this, but only ready ourselves for it.

Once we have experienced it, we are transformed, and we come to see every other being as a You, and gain a sense of loving responsibility for the whole world. Thus we no longer feel alienated from the world and do not worry about the meaninglessness of life.

That's all fine, in theory

So, finally, we get to my purpose here. Martin Buber has written a very important book. It is also very difficult to read, deliberately so. This is not something to be digested on a wet Sunday afternoon; it is something to be wrestled with, to be teased apart and put back together.

And I find that a struggle. I am not much of a thinker. At least, not without my body. If I-It is my usual mode, it is my body's usual mode. For I-Thou to be anything other than a theory, it has to grow and claim existence in my body, in my way of being.

Enough! Let's practice!

I am slowly and gently exploring what this theory might mean. In relation to people. In relation to our dog. To the birds outside. To the trees and other non-human life in the garden. To the river and hills beyond the garden. To the stars at night, the rain and wind.

Of course, I can't try stuff out and then ask these non-speakers how was it for you? so I am left to my own devices. Can I create space for transformation in my body and space such that I experience things differently?

I think I'm practising love, and I don't know what that means. All at the same time.

Continued in The body of I-and-Thou. Also, I dont exist.


Footnotes

  1. I and Thou, Martin Buber, 1923, summarised more closely in I don't exist. ↩︎

  2. At least, in the translation by Walter Kaufmann, Simon & Schuster, 1970. ↩︎

  3. Most of our relationships with people are based upon their usefulness to us – what we can get out from them – and consequently most of our relationship are about trying to (re-)gain what we are missing. ↩︎

  4. Isn't this how our eyes meet across a crowded room? Isn't this the wonderful and transformative sensation of falling in love? Buber is suggesting, among other things, that encounter is available to us in many other scenarios and with other beings (not just human) too. ↩︎

  5. It's worth noticing that a single relationship can switch from I-It to I-You in a moment, e.g. my partner's chatting as she offers me a cup of tea, I listen because I want the tea, but I find myself drawn into her interior world and the tale reveals her to me in a completely new light ↩︎