Husserl Studies: 20: 89–97, 2004.

89

Book Review

Body and Nature

Maxine Sheets-Johnstone, The Primacy of Movement. Amsterdam/Philadel-

phia: John Benjamins Publishing Company, 1999 (Advances in Conscious-
ness Research 14), ISBN 90 272 5134 7, US$ 49,95, =C 55.

The Primacy of Movement is a remarkably wide-ranging work. It is a phen-

omenological study of movement, a study of how movement is at the root of
our sense of agency, how moving is a way of knowing, and how movement
structures our knowledge of the world. But Sheets-Johnstone’s study of the
constitutive significance of movement does not only provide us with rich de-
scriptions of the phenomena, and with engaged analyses of Husserl, Merleau-
Ponty, and Fink. She also discusses a number of prominent figures in
analytical philosophy of mind (such as Searle, Dennett, the Churchlands,
Nagel, Carruthers, Chalmers, Jackson, Lewis etc.), frequently criticizing them
for having offered accounts of cognition that ignore or minimize the impor-
tance of movement. And finally, her study also draws on findings from an im-
pressive range of sciences, be it natural history, paleoanthropology, ethology,
sociobiology, developmental psychology, neurophysiology, etc. and this is
perhaps what makes the book quite unique. How many other books in phe-
nomenology contain arguments to the effect that the mind/body dichotomy
has had detrimental implications for the standard paleoanthropological con-
ception of Neanderthals?
The Primacy of Movement is composed of an introduction and 12 chapters,
and is divided into three parts: “Foundations,” “Methodology,” and “Appli-
cations.” Some of the chapters have been published earlier, and the book does
to some extent appear as a collection of relatively independent articles.

1.

Why does the book have the title it has? The first part, “Foundations,” pro-
vides the explanation.
One of the major concerns in contemporary analytical philosophy of mind
has been to provide an explanation of how consciousness arises in matter. Ac-
90
cording to Sheets-Johnstone, however, this question is spurious. The crucial
question is not how consciousness is related to (inorganic) matter, but how
consciousness is grounded in organic and animate forms (pp. 42, 43). On its
most rudimentary level consciousness is a question of responsitivity and ani-
mation (p. 50). Consciousness is basically a dimension of living forms that
move themselves, forms that are animate, and that in their animation engage
with the world (p. 59). Thus, for Sheets-Johnstone the true task is to under-
stand the animate and as she points out, any biological naturalism, as well as
any biological naturalization of consciousness, should consequently start by
studying movement (p. 60).
There is nothing de novo in nature, there is nothing that has absolutely no
antecedents. Everything has a history, and according to Sheets-Johnstone, we
must study that history if we are to understand who and what we are, if we
wish to understand mind and consciousness (p. 403). The problem of con-
sciousness must be approached from a historical or genetic perspective. We
need to understand its origin. Given the emphasis on animation, what we need
is a close and serious investigation of evolution as a history of animate form
(p. 42).
Where should such an evolutionary account of consciousness begin? Ac-
cording to Sheets-Johnstone, in the analysis of surface recognition, sensi-
tivity, and kinesthesia (pp. 58, 75). As she points out, an agent devoid of
kinesthesia belongs to no known natural species. For Sheets-Johnstone, this
even holds true in the case of a bacterium. A bacterium is in possession of
surface sensitivity. It is sensitive to the chemical composition of the environ-
ment, and it is in possession of a chemically-mediated tactile discrimination
of bodies apart from or outside its own body (pp. 59, 68). But it is also in
possession of a rudimentary corporeal consciousness (p. 75). Thus, Sheets-
Johnstone argues that the Socratic imperative ‘know thyself’ is a built-in
biological matrix with deep evolutionary roots (p. xix). In fact, corporeal
awareness is a constituent of animate life, and ultimately the evolution of
consciousness coincides with the evolution of animate forms (p. 77).
The claim that a bacterium is in possession of corporeal consciousness and
perhaps even of a kinesthetic form of self-consciousness is bound to provoke
dissent. Many would be inclined to argue that if one starts to ascribe conscious-
ness and self-consciousness to a bacterium, both terms are being used in so
insipid a fashion that they become literally inane. Many would insist that if
consciousness and self-consciousness are to be found in a bacterium they will
have nothing in common with the type of consciousness and self-conscious-
ness found in human beings. But perhaps these misgivings wouldn’t trouble
Sheets-Johnstone very much. When reading The Primacy of Movement one
gets the impression that she to some extent would welcome dissent. In fact,
judging from her witty and polemic style, she seems to thrive on it.
 91
Having argued in detail for the evolutionary (and developmental) primacy
of movement, Sheets-Johnstone turns to a more transcendental form of argu-
mentation. Movement is, as she says, the condition of all forms of perception;
there is no perception without movement, and ultimately everything cogni-
tive leads back to movement (p. 137). In the end, movement rather than a
functioning ego, a body-world dyad, or the existential fore-structure of Dasein
must be seen as the transcendental foundation (pp. 232, 252). Our first con-
sciousness is a tactile-kinesthetic consciousness that arises on the ground of
movement, and the constitution of both space and time originates out of self-
movement (pp. 137, 146). As for this primal movement, it is simply there:
“What is already there is movement, movement in and through which the
perceptible world and acting subject come to be constituted, which is to say
movement in and through which we make sense of both the world and our-
selves. That ‘I move’ arises on the ground of our primal animateness is of
equally profound epistemological significance, for it means that movement
is the ground on which transcendental subjectivity – in a broad sense, our
sense-making or constituting faculty – arises.”(p. 138) Echoing some elements
in Husserl’s description of the deepest layers of time-consciousness, and re-
ferring to the work of Landgrebe, Sheets-Johnstone writes that movement
forms the I that moves before the I that moves forms movement, and that the
ability to move oneself is the foundation of any and all constitutive processes;
the ability precedes the possibility of doing anything, that is, it precedes any
‘I can’ (pp. 138, 231–232).1
It is one thing to argue that transcendental subjectivity is necessarily em-
bodied (or to use Sheets-Johnstone’s preferred terminology, animate), and that
bodily movement is of crucial constitutive significance, and indispensable for
both perception and perhaps even temporality. Thus it could be (and has been)
argued that there is an equiprimordiality between movement (kinesthesia) and
temporality (inner time-consciousness). But it is something quite different to
argue that movement per se is the foundation, the ground out of which tran-
scendental subjectivity arises. In fact, I find it difficult to understand how the
latter conclusion could be phenomenologically warranted. It hardly makes
sense to speak indiscriminately of movement as the transcendental founda-
tion. Planets, waves, and avalanches all move, but that kind of movement is
presumably of zero significance in this context. Self-movement and kinesthesia
are much more promising candidates, but the reason is obvious. They already
involve a rudimentary form of consciousness, and in that case an argument to
the effect that they constitute subjectivity would be circular. Perhaps Sheets-
Johnstone’s point is that the kind of corporeal consciousness to be found in
self-movement precedes and founds transcendental subjectivity if by the lat-
ter we understand an ‘I can’, i.e., some active egological principle. But in this
case, the obvious question would be why one would want to define subjec-
tivity in such narrow terms.
92
2.

Given Sheets-Johnstone’s extensive reference to empirical science it shouldn’t

come as a surprise that she is critical towards standard philosophical armchair
pronouncements about consciousness, pronouncements that issue, as she puts
it, “from philosophical ivory towers and that lack all semblance of an informed
evolutionary backbone.”(p. xx). A full appreciation of the significance of
movement requires not just phenomenological analyses, but also the light of
empirical studies. What needs to be done is to show how scientific findings
may be used as transcendental clues by phenomenology (pp. 245, 246). It is
in this context that Sheets-Johnstone speaks of a constructive endeavor, and
even, referring to Fink, of a constructive phenomenology (pp. 133, 150). As
she writes: “The constructive phenomenology appeals to and attempts to
consolidate in a harmonious and mutually enlightening way scientific and
phenomenological findings. . .”(p. 223).2 Thus, Sheets-Johnstone is ultimately
trying to demonstrate the possibility of a trans-disciplinary epistemology, and
to show how the fundamental differences in scientific and phenomenological
practice enhance their complementarity (p. xxiii). Given this promising out-
look and the overall thrust of Sheets-Johnstone’s work, there is in particular
one figure in the phenomenological tradition that comes to mind, namely
Merleau-Ponty.
In his first major work La structure du comportement Merleau-Ponty dis-
cussed such diverse authors as Pavlov, Freud, Koffka, Piaget, Watson, and
Wallon. And on the very final page of that book, Merleau-Ponty called for a
redefinition of transcendental philosophy that would make it pay heed to the
real world (Merleau-Ponty 1942, p. 241). Thus, rather than making us choose
between either an external scientific explanation or an internal phenomen-
ological reflection, a choice which would rip asunder the living relation be-
tween consciousness and nature, Merleau-Ponty asked us to reconsider the
very opposition, and to search for a dimension that is beyond both objectiv-
ism and subjectivism. This interest in positive science, in its significance for
phenomenology, remained prominent in many of Merleau-Ponty’s later works
as well. His use of neuropathology (Gelb and Goldstein’s famous Schneider-
Case) in Phénoménologie de la perception, for instance, is particularly well
known. Thus Merleau-Ponty’s phenomenology is commonly viewed as an
attempt to reconcile philosophical truth with scientific fact.
Given these apparent similarities, one is up for something of a surprise when
one reaches chapter 6 in The Primacy of Movement which is entitled “Merleau-
Ponty: A Man in Search of a Method.” Sheets-Johnstone basically charges
Merleau-Ponty with having had an inadequate methodology, and as a conse-
quence for having failed to properly understand the significance of movement
(p. 235). What is wrong with Merleau-Ponty’s methodology? According to
Sheets-Johnstone, it is not sufficiently rigorous and transparent (p. 273).3
 93
Merleau-Ponty’s use of pathology, in particular, is problematic. Through an
existential analysis of the behavior of a neurologically disabled person,
Merleau-Ponty attempts to show by default the nature of our relationship to
the world. Thus to some extent, pathology can be seen as Merleau-Ponty’s
substitute for the phenomenological reduction (pp. 247, 276). Now, the stand-
ard reading of this maneuver would be the following: The very notion of de-
viant and anomalous states, the very grasp of these states as being deviant and
anomalous, implies a contrast to the normal modes of experience and exist-
ence from which they differ. It is precisely due to this contrastive feature that
an examination of pathological disorders might help shed light on the elemental
configurations of the normal modes. The normal is often so familiar to us that
it remains practically unnoticed; it is so pervasive that it is elusive. But one of
the tasks of philosophy is precisely to call attention to and elucidate those
fundamental aspects of existence and reality that are so taken for granted, that
we often fail to realize their true significance and might even deny their ex-
istence. However, precisely because pathological disorders involve such pro-
found deviations from normal human experience, they can bring forth usually
taken-for-granted, unnoticed conditions of normal daily experience. That is,
the elemental conditions and configurations of normal existence can be sharply
illuminated through a study of its pathological distortions.
If I understand Sheets-Johnstone correctly, she doesn’t share this view, and
makes the following objection: Why does Merleau-Ponty take third-person
investigations and behavioral reports about pathological bodies as the start-
ing point, rather than his own body? If one is a phenomenologist, one is obliged
to ascertain and validate the empirical facts first-hand, but how can we vali-
date findings based on pathology unless we are ourselves pathological. (pp.
277, 286–287)? Given that Sheets-Johnstone has earlier advocated a strategy
of mutual enlightenment between phenomenological analyses and empirical
studies, this criticism might at first strike one as somewhat odd. And if one
really took it to heart, wouldn’t it prevent the phenomenologist (including
Sheets-Johnstone herself) from addressing a whole number of other issues
as well, including Neanderthals and locusts? However, perhaps Sheets-
Johnstone’s criticism of Merleau-Ponty should actually be construed in a
somewhat different manner. In connection with her discussion of a construc-
tive phenomenology of infancy, Sheets-Johnstone writes that we in this con-
structive endeavor should draw upon our own adult experiences of infants,
upon our experiences of self-movement, and upon scientific studies that illu-
minate the significance of self-movement in infancy (p. 245). Transferring this
list of requirements to the issue of pathology, a proper phenomenological treat-
ment of pathology would require us to draw upon our own experiences of the
patients, upon our self-experience, and upon scientific studies of pathologi-
cal disorders. But if these are the requirements, and they do sound quite co-
gent, where did Merleau-Ponty then go wrong? Well, first of all he might have
94
visited the clinic where Schneider was treated, he might have talked with and
observed him and other patients, and he might have spoken in person with
Gelb and Goldstein (p. 277). In addition, he might have been better informed
of empirical science. Thus, Sheets-Johnstone ends up accusing Merleau-Ponty
of having had a shortsighted understanding of evolutionary biology and de-
velopmental psychology, and of credulous taking as fact whatever science
offered in its contemporary practice (pp. 282, 308). Given the customary rev-
erence for Merleau-Ponty’s use of empirical science there is something refresh-
ing about this harsh criticism.4

3.

Methodology is of crucial concern to Sheets-Johnstone, and in chapter 4, which

is entitled “Husserl and von Helmholtz – and the Possibility of a Trans-Disci-
plinary Communal Task,” she repeatedly asserts that both von Helmholtz
and Husserl used a methodology based on introspection. In fact, Sheets-
Johnstone seems to equate phenomenological reflection with introspection.
In my view, this is a problematic claim, and for a number of different reasons.
(1) Introspection is typically understood as a mental operation that enables
us to report and describe our own current mental states. A claim like, “I am
presently imagining a red balloon” is normally taken to be based on introspec-
tion, and although someone can interrogate me in order to establish to what
extent I am using the terms “balloon,” “imagining” etc. correctly, my claim
will ultimately elude intersubjective corroboration. Is it really true that phe-
nomenology is concerned with and based on claims of this kind? In my view,
phenomenology is concerned with the phenomena, the appearances, their
essential structures, and their conditions of possibility. However, it would be
a grave mistake to locate these appearances within the mind, and to suggest
that the way to access and describe them is by looking inside (introspicio) the
mind. The entire divide between inside and outside is phenomenologically
suspect, but this divide is precisely something that the term “introspec-
tion” buys into and accepts. (2) Husserl often distinguishes between a
phenomenological (pure) reflection and a psychological reflection. When I
perform a psychological reflection, I am interpreting the experience reflected
upon as a psychical process, that is, a process occurring in a psycho-physical
entity which exists in the world. If one asks whether this type of reflection
can provide us with an adequate understanding of subjectivity the answer is
no. Psychological reflection presents us with a constituted, objectified, and
naturalized subject, but it does not provide us with an access to the constitut-
ing, transcendental dimension of subjectivity (Hua XVII, p. 290, VIII, p. 71,
VII, p. 269, VI, pp. 255, 264). It is here that the pure or phenomenological
reflection is introduced, since its specific task is to thematize a subjectivity
 95
stripped from all contingent and transcendent relations and interpretations (Hua
III/1, p. 117, VII, p. 267). Husserl makes it clear, however, that this type of
reflection is not immediately available, and so the question remains, what
method or procedure can make it available? The answer, of course, is through
the epoché. For as Husserl emphasizes again and again (with an obvious jab
at introspectionism), unless the way has first been cleared by the epoché we
will be dealing with an objectified and mundanized experience regardless of
how intensively or how carefully and attentively one reflects (Hua VIII, p.
79, III/1, p. 107). Now, Sheets-Johnstone does in fact emphasize that the in-
trospection carried out in phenomenology is an introspection that takes place
not within the natural attitude but within the epoché (p. 191). This is an im-
portant qualification, but in my view, a better way to respect the difference
between the natural attitude and the phenomenological attitude would be to
altogether avoid talking as if the same kind of procedure, introspection, were
carried out in both cases. (3) Introspection is generally conceived in analogy
with perception. Introspection is precisely a kind of internal perception. Rather
than intending external objects, we focus on internal ones. But of course, there
is something very problematic about this way of speaking. If it were really
true that phenomenological reflection objectified the experiences reflected
upon, thereby turning them into mental objects, phenomenology would face
an obvious difficulty: If reflection makes us aware of objects, how can it make
us aware of our own pristine subjectivity? Wouldn’t it for ever be prevented
from describing the stream of consciousness (lived, functioning subjectivity)
as it really is? One way to avoid this unfortunate conclusion is by insisting that
there is a difference between the phenomenological reflection and the natural
psychological reflection, and that the phenomenological reflection is a kind of
non-objectifying accentuation of the experiences in question. This is in part what
is behind Sartre’s distinction between pure and impure reflection (Sartre 1943,
pp. 194–197). However, all of these specifications are lost if one simply equates
the phenomenological reflection with introspection.
I am by no means sure that Sheets-Johnstone would actually have a quar-
rel with any of the above. Ultimately, our disagreement might merely be ter-
minological. But given the widespread identification of phenomenology with
introspectionism in contemporary cognitive science, even terminology might
be worth fighting over.

4.

The Primacy of Movement is a thought provoking book that is highly recom-

mended to anybody interested in “the corporeal turn.” It contains a whole range
of fascinating analyses of bodily movement. One of its great strengths is
Sheets-Johnstone’s familiarity with natural science. In her exploration of the
96
body, Sheets-Johnstone has certainly not remained in the armchair and she
provides the reader with intriguing information, much of which should be
novel to the average phenomenologist.
By arguing in the way she does, Sheets-Johnstone can be seen as contri-
buting to the current discussion concerning the possibility of reconciling phe-
nomenology and the project of naturalization. Is it possible to bridge the gap
between phenomenological analyses and naturalistic models of consciousness?
Is it possible to naturalize phenomenology? And what is particularly notewor-
thy is that Sheets-Johnstone pursues a rather different approach, than the one
recently delineated by Jean Petitot, Francisco Varela, Bernard Pachoud, and
Jean-Michel Roy in the volume Naturalizing Phenomenology.

Dan Zahavi
Danish National Research Foundation, Center for Subjectivity Research,
University of Copenhagen, Denmark

Notes

1. Given Sheets-Johnstone’s emphasis on the constitutive significance of kinesthesia, and

her general sympathy for Husserlian phenomenology, it would be natural to expect ref-
erences to Husserl’s work in the area. Of course, The Primacy of Movement is not as such
a book on Husserl, and it should be measured accordingly. But it is nevertheless striking
that when it comes to Husserl’s treatment of movement and kinesthesia, Sheets-Johnstone
is mainly referring to Ideen II and III. There are no references whatsoever to Ding und
Raum, Analysen zur passiven Synthesis, or to Zur Phänomenologie der Intersubjektivität
I and III. In fact none of these volumes are even listed in the bibliography, although
they all contain highly pertinent analyses that would, I suspect, be congenial to Sheets-
Johnstone’s own views on the matter.
2. I think it is rather questionable whether this was what Fink himself had in mind when he
talked about a constructive phenomenology, but let me leave it at that.
3. Sheets-Johnstone also criticizes Merleau-Ponty for using Husserl for ontological rather
than epistemological ends (p. 274). She describes Husserl’s project as an epistemologi-
cal project, and argues that the objects are constituted, not in an ontological sense, but in
an epistemological sense (pp. 190, 193). It could be objected, however, that the tran-
scendental phenomenological enterprise undercuts the classical (pre-critical) distinc-
tion between epistemology and ontology, and that an interpretation of Husserl as an
epistemologist and as somebody who is not interested in ontology is questionable. As
Husserl writes in Erste Philosophie II: “Die volle konkrete Ontologie ist eo ipso, ist
nichts anderes als die echte Transzendentalphilosophie, und alle Transzendental-
philosophie hat nichts anderes in ihrem letzten Absehen gehabt, in ihrem historischen
ungeklärten Entwicklungstrieb, als diese Ontologie.” (Hua VIII, p. 215).
4. There are a few precedents, however. In 1996 Gallagher and Meltzoff pointed to certain
shortcomings in Merleau-Ponty’s views on developmental psychology, and back in 1979
Tatossian criticized Merleau-Ponty for using empirical research in a speculative fashion:
“S’il veut atteindre l’expérience proprement phénoménologique du malade mental, il
ne peut s’enfermer avec le philosophe transcendental dans sa tour d’ivoire. Au travail
 97
spéculatif sur la littérature spécialisée qui a été la méthode de Merleau-Ponty et de bien
d’autres, il doit préférer obligatoirement le commerce direct avec ce qui est en question:
la folie et le fou. C’est là le ‘vrai positivisme’ dont parlait Husserl parce que c’est la
véritable expérience psychiatrique.” (Tatossian 1979/1997, p. 12). What might make
phenomenological psychopathology particularly interesting is that it was developed not
by professional philosophers, but by clinicians such as Minkowski and Binswanger.

References

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Recent Developmental Studies,” Philosophical Psychology 9 (1996): 213–236.
E. Husserl, Ideen zu einer reinen Phänomenologie und phänomenologischen Philosophie I,
Husserliana III/1–2 (Den Haag: Martinus Nijhoff, 1976).
E. Husserl, Die Krisis der europäischen Wissenschaften und die transzendentale Phänomenologie,
Husserliana VI (Den Haag: Martinus Nijhoff, 1962).
E. Husserl, Erste Philosophie I (1923–24), Husserliana VII (Den Haag: Martinus Nijhoff,
1956).
E. Husserl, Erste Philosophie II (1923–24), Husserliana VIII (Den Haag: Martinus Nijhoff,
1959).
E. Husserl, Formale und Transzendentale Logik, Huserliana XVII (Den Haag: Martinus
Nijhoff, 1974).
M. Merleau-Ponty, La structure du comportement (Paris, 1942).
J. Petitot, F.J. Varela, B. Pachoud and J.-M. Roy (eds.), Naturalizing Phenomenology: Issues
in Contemporary Phenomenology and Cognitive Science (Stanford: Stanford University
Press, 1999).
J.-P. Sartre, L’être et le néant (Paris: Tel Gallimard, 1943/1976).
A. Tatossian, La phénoménologie des psychoses (Paris: L’art du comprendre, 1997).
98