1:10 S. Luft plural, the"they"), from the perspective of an outside spectator. Su ch an acco untfrom within can only prove to be successful if it achieves insights that arc unattainable by an account from without. And if Gerda Walther is right (cf. Walther 1922, 661 ), a true sociology can only begin its full and circ umspect work once such an acco unt from within has been provided. Here, too, phenomenology would function, in accord with Husserl's vision, in the position of"first philosophy" that enables or, more modestly, precedes all other investigations. And yet, it may sound curious that phenomenology should permit itself to reach beyond the "holy grail" of its self-defined domain, the first person sing ular perspec­ tive. And no matter how far this sel f -granted permission may go, it can never give up its tenet lo start out from the radically individuated first person experience, if it claims to he phenomenological in method. Howeve r, no matter how far one may demand that it reaches beyond this (putative) individ ualism, it is eq ually clear that the self must not be conceived as a so/us ipse, a Cartesian ego nor can it be said to disperse like a drop of water in an ocean of "otherness" and become one with it. Both extremes must be rejected for an accou nt of the We to get u nderway. Arguably, however, any phenomenological account of a We with its exper ience s and its objects can only occur in the tension between the I and the We. It is , ] wo u ld furth er arg ue , this space that was opened up by H usserl in his analyses of intersuhjectivity and it is the very space that has been coloniz ed by thinkers followin g the master's lead, su ch as Edith Stein and Gerda Walther. What follows, thus, is an inve stigation that takes place within this space as well, but explores certain aspects that especially Walther has �ighlightcd; namely, the q uestions as to the experience germane to such a com­ mu mty and the specific intentional object of a comm unity and what it can mean that a comm unity may he related back to itself, a phenomenon she d u bbed "reflective communities." Let me be clear that this is j ust one avenue that one can pursue in this estin g insight s �uhject area (pu� inte �ded!), but on e whic.h may yield especia lly inter i tor the const tution ot a community. Methodologically, it must be emphasized from the o utset, to repeat, that such an investigation may never give up the radically individuated first person access that phenomenology starts out with. And it must also deliver on the promise that this phenomenological acco unt can prod uce insights that are other wise unattai nable. At the same time, it must also clearly delimit its explanatory reach; there is, in other words, more to say about the nature of a communal entity over which phenomenology does not have any special expertise. Moreover, any q uestion as to the social nature of communities in their experience from within must be in agreement abo ut certain aspects a community does not and can never feat ure. So, for instance, both Husserl and Walther (despite her later leanings toward mysticism) are conjointly insist ent on the fact that a community, while being made up (in vario us ways of "making u p") 3Cf. also ibid. 98, where she speaks of the "Copernican" turn in sociology, "by taking the conjunction or subjects and the meaning of this conjunction as starting point and only from here views and evaluates itself and the other subjects, as well as their relations. [ ... ]Only where this attitude has been achieved---both in the external observer as well as in the members of the co1nmunity�it seems to us that a real sociology becomes possible, above all a sociology of the community." (All translations, unless otherwise noted, ar c by the author.) 1 will return to this "Copernican Turn." 132 S. Luft Constitutive Structures of a Phenomenological Egology In order to motivate the investigation in the specific nature of we-intentionality , let me briefly highlight some key features of individual intentional acts, as detailed in the classical account of Husserl, in order to define the basis on which one can develop the constitutive components of social acts and from there, a special case of these acts, those that Walther calls "reflective acts." The first part, thus, shall serve as a short reminder and springboard, from which I will launch into the discussion of the sphere of interest here, social acts or "we-intentionality." In what follows, I develop some constitutive and non-reducible aspects of sub­ jective experience, what Husserl would call a phenomenological egology. After that. I will turn to the question if it is possible, and what it means, to reflect hack upon oneself and to have a reflective experience. This will enable me, in the next part, to discuss the question what it can mean for a community to have an analogous form of experience (and if it can even he considered analogous). Following the methodolog­ ical paradigm I introduced, any light that can he shed on the alleged phenomenon of a reflective community must find its guiding clue from an cgological account. How can one, thus, describe the egological structure of consciousness? All con­ sciousness is constituted as intentional; all experience is by definition intentional; that is, it is experience-of and has a content, an intentional object. Thus, while all consciousness has a content, neither this consciousness nor its intentional object is identical with a simple subject on one side and an ol:ject on the other. Rather, what phenomenology focuses on is the experiential ("noetic") side of the act and its intended content as intended (the "noema"), leaving aside the ontological question of the subject who issues the act and the object as it is understood in the natural . attitude, that is, as existing independently of the experience of it. Thus, it is clear from the outset that the phenomenological investigation of the egological structure of consciousness is a transcendental one, which is indifferent to ontological questions as to the being of the subject or the object. Yet, purely descriptively, it is undeniable that all acts stem from somewhere, from a radiating center (A11sstrahlunRszentrum) that directs the acts in a certain direction stemming from this origin. This radiating center is the "pure" ego, which may merely be assumed, since it cannot itself be the content of a lived-experience. I will return to the question of an experience of this pur e ego shortly. On the other "side" of the spectrum, although, likewise, there can he no assumption as to the ontological nature of the object intended, the acts in their directness are characterized by a position-taking with respect to their object, a Stellungnahme. This position-taking Husserl also calls (in his early work) an "objectifying act," which is to say, that no matter how the object is intended, it is intended, first and foremost and before all other act qualities, as existing. In other words, no matter how the object may be intended, as thought, as valued, as acted upon, all of these modalities can only occur if and only if they arc grounded in an objectifying act. Accordingly, all acts of thinking, valuing and acting are, again in Husserl's early terminology, non- Do We-Experiences Require an Intentional Object'> On the Nature ... objectifying acts; they do themselves have a positing function but are only possible on the basis of the former (cf. Husserl 200 I /2. 128-145). This theory of the non-objccti fying character of acts, especially of evaluative, emo­ tive, and volitional acts, docs not change with Husserl's later preferred terminology of constitution (cf. Husserl 1989). Judging something as valuable or experiencing something as given as lovable or desirable is a manner in which the given object constitutes itself for me as lovable or desirable; yet all loving and desiring can only take place with respect to an object that is taken to be existing ("taken in" through perception). Thus, constitution has different levels. The constitution "as desirable" is a founded act, founded on the previous act "as existing," although this earlier constitutive act may have been forgotten and lies sedimented in the consciousness' past (as clarified by genetic phenomenology). The same goes for the constitution "as lovable," which also has a history in the life of consciousness. This structure of constitution holds also for so-called empty intentionalities. Thus. for instance, (the example is Husscrl's 4 ). when I sec an object experienced as beau­ tiful in a windowless room illuminated by a light, and the light is switched off for total darkness, the beautiful object is given to me in the mode of emptiness, and the experience of beauty is dependent on the object given as perceived. Hence, no per­ ception (due to complete darkness), no experience of beauty, although the object and its givenness as beautiful may still be given to me in immediate retention or memory, insofar as the object still lingers in my "mind's eye" in the immediate aftermath of the light being switched off. But then. memory is its own form of intentionality, hence likewise of constitution. Now one manner of intentionality, which is similar in some respects but signif­ icantly distinct in others, is the act of reflection. It is peculiar enough to merit its status of an act class of its own. Such an act is different from all other acts, insofar as the latter are all directed at something other than myself. "Other than myself' also means acts in the sphere of passivity, when the self is engaged in so-called passive syntheses as it, e.g., walks through a crowded pedestrian zone and "automatically" tries to avoid body contact with others while it is actively trying to remember what one is about to buy in a store. Herc, too. the virtual shopping list, which I neglected to write on paper, is "in my head," but it is a "transcendence in immanence." An act of reflection is radically different. In distinction from acts of transcendence, reflection is by definition an act that is turned back upon the self (re�flectere). Such an act can only be characterized as deliberate, that is, intentional in the ordinary sense of the term. It is, in other words, not a natural act of reassurance, in the sense that it would be necessary for self-awareness. It is not an act, in other words, that would have the status of merely a quasi-act that "sits atop" other acts, in the same sense of Kant's transcendental ego of self­ apperception, the "I-think which must be able to accompany all my representations." Husserl approvingly cites this Kantian phrase but means by it nothing other than the fact that each act stems from a radiating center, a pure ego, which is not itself 4Cf. Husserl (2002, 92-98), where Husserl analyzes so-called empty intentions (leeri11te111ione11), cf. also ibid. Appendix IV, 240 ff., esp. 244. Do We-Experiences Require an Intentional Object? On the Nature ... 135 case of the radical reflection the phenomenologist enacts, the intentional experience of the self of the natural attitude in its entirety, by taking up a different attitude, that of the so-called non-participating observer. In the case of "natural" reflection, a thoroughgoing reflective attitude is not required, and the purpose of such a reflection may be described as a self-thcmatization for the sake of pondering the meaning of oneself, one's purpose in life and one's position vis-a-vis others. But to further define this structure, then, is no longer the domain of phenomenology (alone). With these reminders, we now have the "nuts and bolts" of a phenomenological egology and, more specifically. a phenomenological theory of reflection. We can now utilize these insights for an analysis of the We and its possible self-referentiality. Constitutive Structures of We-Intentionality and the Question of the Intentional Object Now in turning to the structure of social acts, I will turn, mainly, to the analy ses given by Walther in her On the Ontology of Social Communities (Zur Ontologie der sozialen Gemeinschaften) of 1922, though it should he clear that her entire apparatus, terminologically and methodologically, rests on the basis of Husserl's egological phenomenology. But that said, her chief interest is not in the problem that Husserl considered that of intersuhjectivity. Husserl's investigations go into a different direction; namely, he is interested in investigating the sui generis form of the givenness of the other human being, an intentionality which he gives the title of "empathy." Empathy is, Husserl claims, an intentionality of its own class besides other classes, such as perception, memory, image consciousness. Walther would not dispute this, together with Stein. But Walther's interests in her early work lie elsewhere. This is why she is an interesting partner of discussion for the issue at hand. Indeed, what Walther, in turn, is interested in investigating is the character of acts that occur when individuals unify themselves in forming a community . Walther calls this common structure community (Gemeinschaft) in contradistinction from mere communalities that may live conjointly and even have things in common though un­ unified (Gesellschaften). Such a structure is dealt with in Husserl's work under the title of "personalities of higher order," though Walther digs in where Husserl leaves off. So while the phenomenon is recognized by Husserl, her analyses go further in that they strive to describe adequately the way in which this unification occurs (and the many ways in which it can fail or come about only inauthentically 5). And, once the unification has been achieved, the question then is, what kind of an intentionality 5It would be one theme to explore the commonalities between Walther's analyses of.failed unifi­ cation and Heidegger's concept of inauthenticity (Uneigentlichkeit) in Being and 7rme. Heidegger is mentioned frequently in Walther's book and commended for his advice, which (given this early period, Being and 7ime was not published until five years later) must have sprung from discussions between them. 136 S. Luft is it that issues forth from a community, such that the intentionality can be called a "we-intentionality" in the true sense of the term, a sui generis cogitamus, and what is, accordingly, its proper cogitatum'? So let us look next at the way in which she describes the constitution of such a community, which has the capacity for we-acts (social acts) and its object. Once this is clarified, I will be in a position to discuss the question as to the retl�ctive character of we-experiences and their intentional object and what this tells us about the self-referential nature of communities. Walther starts her analysis by distinguishing sociality (Gesellschaft) an� com­ _ rnunity (Gemeinschaft). The former is a matter of convention, habit, or profesSt0n and would accord with Aristotle's definition of friendship as philia (as distinguished from storge and eros), that is, friendship for the sake of a common goal or purpose, which, once achieved, ceases to exist and therefore dismisses the engaged partners in this common project; the group then falls apart. W hat distinguishes this sociality from a genuine community is the lack of unification (Einigung). W hat happens here what does not happen on the lower level? W hat both have in common, as Walther stresses, is the fact that they both presuppose a "knowing of the other(s)," which does not imply an intimate knowledge of each aspect of the other, but knowing her __ in the sense of knowing the aspect upon which a unification occurs. To put it dif­ ferently, there must be a common or guiding theme that brings people togeth�r i� the first place. But for this corning together to be more than convention or habit, 11 is required that this intentional object that we have in common is more than just a fleeting project or purpose, but something that we identify as ours. Hence , what is necessary for this "inner unification" (innere Einigung) is a "peculiar inner -m ental I innerseelischJ unifying with an intentional object" (Walther 1922, 34 ). It is, in fact, the object itself that issues this "feeling of unification" (ibid.), Walther describes this encounter with such an object (which can of course also be a specific person, such as a charismatic leader) as an "affirmative mental wave of lesser or greater force" (ibid.) that unifies the individual self with its object. On the basis of this experience, I experience this object as one for many, and hence, I can unify myself with the others. of whom I know, to form this unified We, which does not obliterate the indivi duals, but which unifies us together with this object that draws us in. Walther is clear that such a unification can only occur emotionally; that is, it appeals to what she calls our "inner self' or also "source [ Quelle J of lived expe­ rience " (ibid.). Although it can occur spont aneously and become habitual as well, Walther distinguishes it from love or habit. Nonetheless, this act or process of unifi­ cation appeals to our "inner sci f" or what she also calls-somewhat cryptically-our "metaphysical-real essence" that is supposed to be the basis or ground of our being. W hatever that may be, shall be left open here; but in less speculative terms, she wants to (I think) allow for the difference in individuals who experience their calling for this or for that purpose or common goal, although she allows for the fact that some individuals might not feel any calling for a social cause and prefer to be hermits. T his inner essence may, thus, be understood as a certain non-reducible principium individuationis that cannot be further elucidated. Do We-Experiences Require an Intentional b O ject? On the Nature ... 137 It is a "black box" t hat is explanatory only to t he extent that it "explains" why some people are drawn , say, to poli tics, others to philosophy.6 At any rate, once this u n ificatio n has occurred , on ly t hen can one speak of a community. I n this commu n ity, in dividuals enter into it freely (an important aspect! They c�nnot be force d) and u n ify t hemsel ves as a community, which exists for t he sake o� somet hing (a team, a state), w hich she also calls a "leading objectivity" or a g idm g idea. Yet this unific �, ation of individuals is not a Romantic "coming into one but � comp lex str uctur e w hich quickly and economically differentiates itself mto an entity of its own wit h hierarc hies and divisio ns of labor.Thus, this unification occurs wit h a or dering i nto superior s, in feriors , or equals with respect to (a) t he leadmg objectivity, (b) the ot her members, here divided into pure m embers, organ s 0� t� e community (such as committ ees or ministries), and leaders and (c) the order of hierarchy (supe rior ity etc.) wit h respect to their unification with the community as such. (c�·- ibid. 52). The in dividuals come toget her by lending their identity but also the1r f�rce to t h is commu n ity, as if each person ' s energy issued forth (using h er � etapho_r) from a dy namo, an d all dynamos could b e wir ed together into one bright light, shining brig h ter than o ne single dynamo could achi eve. The strength of the en ergy each 0 us emit s, and hence t he power and depth of t he community, � p�nds � � n ? �h� pro ximtty of the commu nity's guiding idea to the "emotional nuc�eu� _ of th e ind1v1 dual, a nucleus with, while radically individual, is not understood sohp_s1�t1cally. Th_e depths to be re ac hed here indeed reach beyond the individual ak�ne, and Jt_ is at this point where Walt h er'sfaib/e for mysticism can be locat ed. We can ig nore th1_s aspect _ for what follows, however. Walther discusses the details of suc h a community-t he way indivi _ dual s interact i n it, t he way they must recognize each other, ho"'. t hey mig ht _ d1s�g ree w hile remain ing m embers , and so on-whic h ai:e relevant tor an � nvest1gatJon into t he c onstitution of such a community. But I wi ll not pursue h er ns ght f l an aly ses h ere and instead focus on t he aspect of self- re feren tiality. I n u 1 �1)rder lo get t here , I will high light a specific aspect of t he community, its becomingindependent of individ uals while always b eing made up of th em.. Indeed , once t his u nification has occur red, this newly consl!tuted communi ty takes on a life of its own . It never ceases to be comprised of indiv iduals, but it does not depen d o n t he original individuals who cr eated it; in f act, individuals may � ha_n�e and b e r eplaced, an d hence, the community becomes mdepe�den� of _ the i ndividual subjects who may have b een part of the original pro�ess of umticat10n. Thus, ts b eing is n ow the social community which floats, as It were, above the I i ndividuals co nstit uting it, while always being constitu� ed �y indivi�ual� u nifying t hem�elves with it, an d w hile never being a perfect unity either, as t will always 1 contam members wh o may not be on board with the "mi��ion." �his is � ha� Wa�ther means_ wit h the "Cop ernican Turn " i n viewi ng commumt1es. T hi s tur n m vi ew from i ndividuals toward t he community to the community itself is justified due to the This point may be seen as the beginning of Walther's mystic ism, i.e., such a metaphysical-real essence IS "n ormally" a black b x bu can be opened through mysti cal ex t periences. I prefer not o to venlure into this d imension f her thought, not because I dismiss it, b b o ut ecause I see this as transcending the sayable and hence beyond "normal" philosophical discourse. 6 140 S. Luft herself in reflection. Let us describe what goes on here. To take her example, a family is made up of individuals who are unified by the fact that they arc related to each other as a family, be it through marriage, birth, or adoption, and here, too, we all know how complex family structures can be and that they arc rarely-perhaps never-a unified and harmonious whole. Nonetheless, the members of this community-and this goes especially for the offspring-derive their defining features from this community. It is only as of a certain age that they are even receptive lo outside influences. The same does not hold for the parents of a family; they are, certainly, members of other socialitics and even communities, but as heads of the household, their main concern is the good of the family, its preservation in the face of actual or potential threat. Hence, in deliberations or discussions about what is best for the family, they are turned back upon the community itself, although they cannot ignore the external world, as when a family in a war-torn country debates whether it should leave its home country and take the refugee trek toward safe countries. But the guiding purpose is at all times the good of the family, which is something internal. All considerations about what to do, even in a situation of (civil) war, are related back to the family and its good. The intentional object, then, is defined hy the "essential relatedness-back" of the community upon itself. It is rcfkctivc in the sense in which an individual can reflect back upon herself, and where the intentional object is the very self, though from a different position, a position which looks at the intentional object-the self-from a distance. In the same way must the heads of a family take a distance to the very entity of which they arc part to consider what is best for it or what puts it at risk, threatens it, and which measures can be taken to deepen its tics, and so on. But the question quickly becomes, whether her characterization of reflective com­ munities really only holds for certain types of communities, such as a family. Is Walther, in other words, confining her descriptions to pertain lo only those commu­ nities that are "intimate" such as a family or a household? But what docs "intimate" mean here? Sleeping in one bed, under one roof, sharing the same meals? Is Walther justified in reserving the status of "reflective" for only these communities she herself describes'/ This seems, to me, rather restrictive. In other words, docs not every com­ munity harbor such an clement of "intimacy" despite its existing for the sake of an external purpose, such as the celebration of a certain soccer team? If the answer is "yes", this would only corroborate her analysis and take it into broader dimensions. In other words, the question is, following her thinking through to its consequence. whether one must not allow that there is a reflective element in all communities that persists despite all external guiding objectives. Can, for instance, a community such as a fan club exist without a care for the internal workings of this community, its "inner health" and flourishing? For sure, such a fan club pursues the external pur­ pose of celebrating the team, and it exists for this very purpose, but when it comes to matters such as a reform of the statutes, not all considerations can be guided by the external purpose, but some must he guided with respect to the community itself and its internal well-being, regardless of the fact that its very reason for founding was the external object (the soccer team). There is, as we can see from this example, a necessary "relatedness-back to itself' (as Husserl would say) in every community. S. Luft 142 original purpose. This is not to say that a given community needs to he preserved at all costs; perhaps a self-refkction reveals that it is indeed inwardly dead and just continues to "go through the motions." Perhaps there is a hollowness to even entire nations that continue to exist without an inner reason or core.9 But if the inner health and sustainment of a community in light of changed external circumstances can at all he preserved, it must occur, and it can only occur, through a self-reflection on the inner purpose or meaning of itself. And perhaps one result of such a self-reflection could he to cease all external actions and to concentrate on itself alone for no other purpose. But this self-relatedness can only he justified by precisely the appeal to the fact that a community can also he, at times at least, reflective in nature. Conclusion To summarize by way of conclusion, in this act of reflection on the part of a com­ munity, the same structural intentionality occurs as in the case of the individual. It is possible through a distancing from itself, and it, too, has the purpose to reassess and evaluate the self of the entity in question, he it an individual or be it a community. In keeping a reflective attitude, the self can stu dy its own subjectivity and its structures and become a phenomenologist, and this certainly holds true for the phenomenolo­ gist who wishes to study the phenomenology of a community, thus what is required for a phenomenology of this phenomenon is the attitude of the phenornenologist as in all other cases of doing phenomenology. But we must keep in mind that this is a highly specialized and artificial kind of reflection, as Husserl himself emphasizes. In turn, the reflection on the part of the community itself, not the scientific study it of but the acts of consideration on the part of the community itself, must be carried out by the members of this community, perhaps in the singular (if there is, say, only one mature head of household), hut standardly in the plural, by its members or a sub­ committee, its delegates or representatives. Such a reflective process and procedure indeed speaks to the health of such a community if done right, but can also be a symptom of its decline, as when it fails to see the external threats to its existence or simply misses the "signs of the times" in a self-enamored encapsulation from the world we live in. Further detailed considerations aside, the merit of Walther's analysis, apart from her keen and insightful descriptions of the constitution of genuine, unified commu­ nities, is that she unearthed a truly constitutive phenomenon of communities, their reflective element, to which I would add that it ought to be expanded as heing part of every community in some at least minimal manner. As much as we arc, as indi9This seems to be the opinion of the figure of Rediger in Houellebecq's recent novel Soumissio11 (cf. Houellebecq 2015, 215-235). As a member of a radical Muslim group, which has taken over France in 2020 (as imagined in the author's dystopia), he suggests that the success or Islam in France rests on the hollowness of the French culture, since it has abandoned Christianity.