Brian Sawyer

Tensions in Heidegger’s Hermeneutic Phenomenology

In Being and Time, Heidegger raises “the question of the meaning of Being,” a question which he believes has been covered over by the history of ontology and which now “must be treated phenomenologically” (BT 49,50).¹ When introducing phenomenology as a methodological conception that “expresses a maxim which can be formulated as ‘To the things themselves!,'” Heidegger borrows the term from Husserl, whose Logical Investigations, Heidegger claims, both originated phenomenology and provided the ground for his own investigation in Being and Time (50,62). However, far from in uncritically following Husserl, Heidegger’s own “ontological phenomenology” in Being and Time, as a “more radical internal development” of Husserlian phenomenology, turns on what Heidegger calls the “working out of the hermeneutical situation.”² Such a hermeneutical radicalization of Husserl’s position, juxtaposed with Heidegger’s loyalty to Husserl’s phenomenological “principle of principles” proves extremely problematic in Heidegger’s own work. In this paper, I intend to show the way in which these tensions, both methodologically and with regard to “the things themselves” as their subject matter, owe much to Heidegger’s relationship to Husserl and stand in irreconcilable opposition to each other in Being and Time.

I will begin with a discussion of Heidegger’s early apprenticeship with Husserl in Freiburg, where Heidegger was already beginning a critical appropriation of his teacher’s work, which he had previously accepted loyally. This will shed some light on the many drafts which Being and Time underwent before its eventual publication in 1927, particularly with regard to Heidegger’s competing interests in both hermeneutics and phenomenological methodology. Following this brief introduction, I will address Caputo’s question regarding the transition from Husserl’s pure phenomenology to Heidegger’s so-called “hermeneutic phenomenology.” This will show the way in which Heidegger found certain hermeneutic indications in Husserl’s work, which Heidegger would appropriate and develop in Being and Time. Though Caputo will conclude that Heidegger’s work is indeed fundamentally and radically different from Husserl’s, to the extent that it relies on hermeneutics rather than simply exhibit such tendencies implicitly, his argument will provide a good background for revealing the specific tensions between Heidegger’s own presentation of “hermeneutics” and “phenomenology” in Being and Time.

With regard to this specific internal tension within Heidegger’s work, upon which the thrust of my primary argument rests, I will begin, as Heidegger himself does, with his description of “phenomenology” in Section 7 of Being and Time. Such a description echoes Husserl’s “principle of principles” explicitly, and Heidegger’s initial loyalty to Husserlian phenomenology becomes evident and unchallenged in this section. However, as my analysis turns to Sections 31 and 32 of this same work, I will show, in his conception of “hermeneutics,” a contrary project at the foundation of his methodology. Then, by showing the inevitable inadequacies of Gelvin’s argument supporting the competing views as internally consistent, we will more clearly see the extent to which Heidegger’s own descriptions of phenomenology and hermeneutics cannot be reconciled. Expanding my approach to these tensions beyond his methodology to the equally fundamental and inseparable subject matter of his research, I will show how Heidegger proves inconsistent in his discussion of the very Sachen selbst of his research. This discussion will focus on his crucial distinction between objects within-the-world as they are encountered as either “ready-to-hand” or as “present-at-hand.” Finally, Heidegger’s contrary desires for the evidentiary appeal to “the things themselves” provided by Husserlian phenomenology and for the necessarily interpretive nature of all understanding will be clearly exposed as irreconcilable and fundamentally detrimental to the project of his early work Being and Time.

In Being and Time, Heidegger footnotes his claim that his own phenomenological investigation “would not have been possible if the ground had not been prepared by Edmund Husserl, with whose Logiche Untersuchungen phenomenology first emerged,” by adding that if Being and Time

has taken any steps forward in disclosing the ‘things themselves’, the author must first of all thank E. Husserl, who, by providing his own incisive personal guidance and by freely turning over his unpublished investigations, familiarized the author with the most diverse areas of phenomenological research during his student years in Freiburg (BT 62,489).

During these years of 1919-1923, Husserl spoke of his assistant as his “favorite student” and the “phenomenological child,” even saying to Heidegger, “You and I are phenomenology.” And, in 1923, Heidegger seems to accept this position when he writes, “Husserl gave me his eyes.”³ But, as Van Buren notes, whereas Heidegger’s doctoral dissertation had been “for the most part” an “uncritical appropriation” of Husserl’s position, by 1925 Heidegger was presenting his own lecture course which “eventually became ‘Division One’ and the first third of ‘Division Two’ of Being and Time as a ‘fundamental critique of phenomenological inquiry'” (Van Buren 241). As the task at hand remains primarily to expose Heidegger’s methodological tensions, I will focus my attention on this first division of Being and Time, wherein Heidegger works out his methodology and these tensions become most manifest and most explicit.

The lecture course on the “History of the Concept of Time” to which Van Buren refers, though the penultimate draft for Being and Time, was not Heidegger’s only draft. This “phenomenological-ontological draft” or even his “Husserl draft,” as Kiesel calls it, was preceded by a “hermeneutic draft,” an 80-page article also titled “The Concept of Time,” which Heidegger sought to publish in November of 1924 (Kiesel 32). Kiesel refers to this first draft as the “Dilthey draft,” finding in Being and Time a “tacit dedication … to a figure just as important as Husserl” in Heidegger’s early development” (32). Here, we see that to the extent that Heidegger’s 1925 lecture course was indeed a “fundamental critique of phenomenological inquiry,” it remains itself phenomenological in nature, while the preceding lecture would appear to stand in more direct contrast with Husserl’s position. And finally, in Being and Time as it was completed in 1926, a draft Kiesel believes “turned out to be more Kantian than the ‘existentialist’ draft which it has been taken to be,” we can see Heidegger’s attempt, at least in part, to synthesize his previous “hermeneutic” and “phenomenological-ontological” drafts in a final draft dedicated to Husserl, but not without reservations or considerable tensions (Kiesel 32). These tensions, revealed in Heidegger’s “phenomenological battle of the giants with Husserl about die Sache selbst, the ‘thing’ or ‘topic itself’ of phenomenology,” we will find more important and more problematic within Being and Time itself, turning methodologically on this very distinction between the “hermeneutic” and the “phenomenological” (Van Buren 241-242).

First, with regard to this “battle of the giants,” Caputo recognizes that “Heidegger’s hermeneutic phenomenology is commonly set in opposition to Husserl’s pure phenomenology,” thus raising the very question, “in historical terms,” of how it is possible “to move from the ‘pure’ phenomenology of Husserl’s Ideas I to the hermeneutic phenomenology of Being and Time (Caputo 158). Though Heidegger himself “would prefer the Logical Investigations for the purposes of an introduction to phenomenology,”⁴ and though my focus still lies in Heidegger’s own methodological inconsistency, Caputo’s treatment of the tensions between Heidegger and Husserl on this point will prove valuable as a background for Heidegger’s own internal tensions throughout Division One of Being and Time.

Caputo begins with a passage from Section 7 of Being and Time, a rich section on which I will focus my attention more fully below, in which Heidegger claims, “The phenomenology of Dasein is a hermeneutic in the primordial signification of this word, where it designates this business of interpreting” (BT 62). But as Heidegger also writes, earlier in this same section, that the notion of a “descriptive phenomenology” is “at bottom tautological,” Caputo is lead to question, “if phenomenology is inherently descriptive, how can it be at the same time interpretive?” (BT 59, Caputo 177). His answer to this question, his argument that “there is already a distinctively hermeneutic element in pure phenomenological investigation,” begins with a discussion of the use of the word “Auslegung” in both Being and Time and in Husserl’s Cartesian Meditations, then turning to Husserl’s treatment of “predelineation” in Ideas I (Caputo 157,159).

Before we can be in a position to understand Caputo’s argument, we must briefly outline what he means by “hermeneutics” and “phenomenology” as distinct concepts, so that we may appreciate what he sees as their connection. For the purposes of his argument, Caputo takes “the Heideggarian sense of hermeneutics as the orthodox notion” to see the extent to which it owes a debt to Husserlian phenomenology (Caputo 158). As he understands it, according to Heidegger, hermeneutics is an interpretive understanding which refers “to the theory of the fore-structures, and to the notion that the understanding of an entity is possible only insofar as it is made possible by a certain prior projection of the range or field of meaning to which the entity belongs” (158). When our focus turns more specifically to hermeneutics as Heidegger develops it in Being and Time, we will find Caputo’s assessment of this point to be both fair and precise.

In contrast to such a hermeneutics, Caputo recognizes as the orthodox view of Husserl’s “pure phenomenology” a “phenomenology without presuppositions,” which adheres to his famous “principle of principles” as delineated in his Ideas (Caputo 173):

Every originarily giving intuition is a legitimizing source of knowledge. Everything which presents itself to us originarily in ‘intuition’ (so to speak in its bodily actuality [in person]) is to be simply accepted as what it gives itself but also only within the limits in which it gives itself.⁵

This “principle of principles,” as we will also see later, clearly guides Heidegger’s own conception of “phenomenology” in Being and Time, appearing to stand in direct opposition with his view of hermeneutics. But this internal conflict within Heidegger’s work does not concern Caputo in this particular argument. Rather, he seeks a hermeneutic element in Husserl’s work, which he claims Heidegger found and appropriated. And Caputo’s first evidence supporting this claim lies in the word “Auslegung.”

“It often goes unnoticed,” Caputo observes, “that the word which Dorion Cairns translated as ‘explication’ in his English version of Cartesian Meditations, and which Macquarrie and Robinson render as ‘interpretation’ in their translation of Being and Time, is in both cases ‘Auslegung‘” (Caputo 159). While Caputo recognizes the contextual adequacy of each respective translation, he also insists on the significance of Husserl’s and Heidegger’s shared vocabulary in the use of this important term. Husserl first uses the word in Section 20 of the Cartesian Meditations when speaking of “intentional analysis” as an

uncovering of the potentialities “implicit” in actualities of consciousness–an uncovering that brings about, on the noematic side, an “explication” or “unfolding” (Auslegung), a “becoming distinct” and perhaps a “clearing” (Klarung) and, correlatively, an explication of the potential intentional processes themselves.⁶

In this passage, Caputo sees an indication of a subjective projecting of possibilities upon an intentional object, which would certainly be consistent with hermeneutic interpretation. Thus, he argues that the “principle of principles” found in the Ideas must “always be qualified by Husserl’s observation in the Analysis of Passive Synthesis about the pretentious of perception” (Caputo 160). In this observation to which Caputo refers, Husserl claims that “since perception still pretends to give the object in person (leibhaft), it continually pretends in fact more than it can do in accordance with its own essence.”⁷ As Caputo notices, this “notion that the intentional object is always ‘more’ than it first presents itself to be casts an interesting light on the principle of principles” (160). Namely, it admits of something beyond, or more complicated, than the orthodox view of Husserl’s “pure phenomenology” as the direct seeing of essences.

With this in view, Caputo now turns to Husserl’s notion of “predelineation” in Ideas I, an exposition after which Caputo promises, “it will not be difficult to show the dependence of Heidegger’s analysis of … Auslegung in Being and Time upon Husserl’s theories” (Caputo 164). Here, Caputo focuses on “motivation” as the pivotal term for this hermeneutic element in Husserl. In Section 47 Husserl writes,

Experience never means a mere logical possibility, but rather a possibility motivated in the concatenations of experience. This concatenation itself is, through and through, one of “motivation,” always taking into itself new motivations and recasting those already formed.⁸

In this passage, Caputo claims that “Husserl wants to show that an object is never something in itself, without relationship to consciousness, but always the correlate of the conscious acts in which it is built up or constituted” (164). But does he really want to show this? Does this passage go against Husserl’s famous dictum, “to the things themselves!”, or does it merely describe our horizon of experience? The passage continues, “…anything whatever which exists in reality but is not yet actually experienced can become given and this means that the thing in question belongs to the undetermined but determinable horizon of my experiential actuality at the particular time.”⁹ This does seem to point to phenomenological fore-structures (predelineated) in the understanding, but ambiguously so, as such subjective fore-structures are implied by our limiting perspectival horizon, but are not fully developed as necessary components of perception.

Thus, in his conclusion, Caputo himself must admit that we come back to the orthodox view of the opposition between Husserl’s pure, presuppositionless phenomenology and Heidegger’s hermeneutic phenomenology, as Husserl still wants to remain true to his “principle of principles.” The difference here is that, while a hermeneutic element may be unearthed in Husserl’s work, for Heidegger, “phenomenology not only has a hermeneutic component; it is inherently hermeneutic” (Caputo 177). However, by taking a closer look at these hermeneutic elements wherein Heidegger saw “formal indication” or “hermeneutical concepts” which, as Van Buren notes, “pointed interpretively to ‘the things themselves’ and were to be critically appropriated in light of a renewed showing of these ‘things’ as the ultimate criterion of phenomenological research,” we are in a better position to view Heidegger’s own work in light of this appropriation (Van Buren 243). We see how Heidegger sought to expose the hermeneutics latent in Husserl’s work, exclaiming, “Phenomenology is unphenomenological!”¹⁰ But, as we will now see, these tensions Heidegger finds in Husserl, become more complicated as tensions, and direct inconsistencies, in his own early work, Being and Time.

Though Heidegger drafted his work as originally hermeneutical, he begins his final draft of Being and Time with homage to Husserl and his own understanding of “the expression ‘phenomenology'” as it “signifies primarily a methodological conception” (BT 50). Here, in Section 7, Heidegger presents a view of phenomenology which seems to quite self-consciously correspond directly with Husserl’s “principle of principles.” For Heidegger, “phenomenology” is a “methodological conception,” which “does not characterize the what of the objects of philosophical research as subject-matter, but rather the how of that research” (BT 50). And, as a methodology, phenomenology “determines the principles on which a science is to be conducted, all the more primordially is it rooted in the way we come to terms with the things themselves” (50, emphasis mine). When describing his own phenomenology as a science of den Sachen selbst, Heidegger explicitly and intentionally identifies himself with Husserl and his pure phenomenology of essences. Moreover, when he claims that the meaning of phenomenology is “to let that which shows itself be seen from itself in the very way in which it shows itself” (BT 58), he clearly echoes Husserl’s principle of principles, wherein, as we have seen, “Everything which presents itself to us originarily in ‘intuition’ … is to be simply accepted as what it gives itself but also only within the limits in which it gives itself.” Here, in Heidegger as in Husserl, phenomenology means the essential grasping of “the thing itself” as it “shows itself” or “gives itself” in perception, complete and without mediation.

It is this description of phenomenology which Caputo does not provide when presenting Heidegger’s method as “hermeneutic.” Rather, he proceeds to the contradictory statements which quickly follow, namely that “the phenomenology of Dasein is a hermeneutic … where it designates this business of interpreting,” and the implied claim that the subject-matter of hermeneutic phenomenology (now it does have both a how and a what of research) is

something that proximally and for the most part does not show itself at all: it is something that lies hidden, in contrast to that which proximally and for the most part does show itself; but at the same time it is something that belongs to what thus shows itself, and it belongs to it so essentially as to constitute its meaning and ground (BT 62,59).

Now, that which is hidden, the Being of entities, does not show itself. Thus, phenomenology, as the “science of the Being of entities,” must now involve interpretation in order to function as “universal phenomenological ontology” (BT 61,62). Thus, we are now presented, much later in Sections 31 and 32, with Heidegger’s opposing conception of hermeneutics.

Heidegger’s exposition of hermeneutics in these section focuses on the virtually synonymous terms: Understanding and Interpretation [Auslegung]. Here, Understanding is “the existential Being of Dasein’s own potentiality-for-Being; and it is so in such a way that this being discloses in itself what its Being is capable of” (BT 184). That is, Dasein, as that entity for whom its Being is an issue for itself, must have an understanding of itself in its possibility. Though Heidegger is ambiguous, or at best unclear, as to the way in which Dasein gains this understanding of itself as its possibility, he makes this point to insist that Dasein projects its understanding on entities in-the-world, and Dasein must necessarily have this understanding of its own Being for such understanding of other entities to be possible. Heidegger adds that this “development of the understanding,” which projects itself in its possibility upon the world, “we call ‘interpretation'” (BT 188).

In any such interpretation [Auslegung], contrary to phenomenological seeing of essences in themselves, “the interpretation has already” understood that which is to be interpreted, or, “decided for a definite way of conceiving it, either with finality or with reservations; it is grounded in something we grasp in advance–in a fore-conception” and also “gets its structure from a fore-having” and a “fore-sight” (BT 191,193). This fore-structure of understanding constitutes the famous hermeneutic circle, which cannot be avoided and which is essential to understanding. Just as the goal of interpretation is not to avoid the circle, but to enter into it in the right way, Heidegger now claims that we must not avoid presuppositions, but we must rather enter into interpretation with the right presuppositions. Thus, we see Heidegger break explicitly from Husserlian phenomenology by claiming that any interpretation “is never a presuppositionless apprehending of something presented to us” and that “even the phenomenological ‘intuition of essences’ is grounded in existential understanding” (BT 191-192). Moreover, he breaks from his own conception of phenomenology as he describes it in Section 7 in terms of the principle of principles, for now any understanding of an object is always already an interpretation, relying on the subject’s own projection of meaning onto the object.

This is no minor inconsistency. As Gelvin notes, “If Heidegger’s methodology is interpretive, and if phenomenology means to let the facts speak for themselves, in whatever sense that can be taken without being ridiculous, then surely a hermeneutic phenomenology is impossible” (Gelvin 38). From what we have seen, this appears obvious, along with Gelvin’s observation that we are presented with a “cruel choice: I must either commit myself to admitting that facts do speak for themselves, in which case I deny the validity of hermeneutics; or I must admit that one must always interpret facts because facts do not have meanings in themselves, in which case I deny the validity of phenomenology,” at least as Heidegger distinctly presents both “phenomenology” and “hermeneutics” in Being and Time (Gelvin 39). Yet Gelvin still attempts to get beyond this dilemma by finding an example where he believes the facts themselves are not separate from their meanings, thus reconciling Heidegger’s internal tensions on this crucial methodological point. Though I will argue that Gelvin’s argument fails to prove what he attempts to show, a look at his example will prove useful by actually articulating this irreconcilable dilemma more clearly.

This “example of circular reasoning that is acceptable to the mind” and “may be taken from normal experience” Gelvin finds in the learning of a foreign language (Gelvin 41). In language, Gelvin rightly observes, “One discovers the context from the meaning of the words, and the meaning of the words from the context” (41). Though, as a circular argument, it seems impossible, it still accurately describes the learning of a foreign language. And, consistent with Heidegger’s understanding of hermeneutics, Gelvin is also correct in arguing that the “learning of a language, then, being existential, is hermeneutic. It proceeds from a whole to a part, and then from a part back to a new whole” (41). Once understanding this much, we may, with Gelvin, also see how this hermeneutic may be extended to our understanding of our own existence, as “our awareness of and the refinement of our knowledge about existence proceeds in a similar fashion” (42). But here his argument ends, and we cannot help but find it inadequate in the resolution of his, and our, dilemma between accepting Heidegger’s phenomenology or his hermeneutics.

Gelvin’s example of learning a foreign language, though it clearly and accurately describes the hermeneutic circle of understanding, does little more than this. It certainly does not show, as Gelvin argues it does, that Heidegger “remains true to his two principles: (1) let the facts speak for themselves, and (2) there are no such thing as bare, uninterpreted facts” (Gelvin 42). Rather, while proving the latter, and thereby affirming Heidegger’s hermeneutics, he does not, and cannot, prove the former with this line of reasoning. The very admission that understanding a language is contextual, and that a new whole is always being formed by a re-interpretation of the parts, makes this learning unphenomenological. How can the facts “speak for themselves” when they will always be subject to another contextual interpretation? Gelvin notes that words “take their contextual significance from the whole or totality of the English language” (41). If the meaning of a word has no autonomy, what are we to make of “the thing itself”? And, as the whole of language changes with each new part, or word, it is defined by the subject’s meaning projected upon it at any given moment. At no point is it wholly developed and determinate, and so at no point may it “speak for itself” univocally and essentially. Here, we can see how the tensions in Heidegger’s methodology, between his conception of phenomenology and hermeneutics as the how of his research, become manifest as tensions in “the things themselves,” or the what of his research. Accordingly, we must now look closely at this tension in the things themselves, particularly in his central distinction between objects ready-to-hand and those viewed as pure presence-at-hand.

Heidegger claims that we first encounter entities within-the-world as “equipment,” or, in terms of their mode of utility. Here, equipment, as “essentially ‘something in order to …,'” possesses the kind of Being Heidegger calls “readiness-to-hand” [Zuhandenheit] (BT 97, 98). In contrast, we may also encounter objects as purely bare “presence-at-hand,” simply alongside us in the world. But this latter way of understanding an object is not only deficient, it is an abstraction. As all entities, when viewed authentically, have the Being of readiness-to-hand, “To lay bare what is just present-at-hand and no more, cognition must first penetrate beyond what is ready-to-hand in our concern,” since essentially, “Readiness-to-hand is the way in which entities as they are ‘in themselves’ are defined ontologico-categorically” (BT 101). Or, as Gorner perhaps more clearly paraphrases, “being able to encounter things as simply there, present-at-hand (vorhanden) presupposes and understanding of readiness-to-hand (Zuhandenheit)” (Gorner 154). Here, we again find the focus on die Sachen selbst, and with it we uncover the same tensions inherent in his interpretational methodology.

In his discussion of hermeneutic understanding, Heidegger claims that “we never perceive equipment that is ready-to-hand without already understanding and interpreting it” (BT 190). This would imply that the hermeneutic circle is always already in place and that meaning is thus necessarily projected by the subject (Dasein) upon equipment ready-to-hand. Here, it would appear that it is the subject who gives meaning to the object of perception, as Heidegger implies when discussing the different possible ways to view Nature. “The botanists plants,” he writes, “are not the flowers of the hedgerow; the ‘source’ which the geographer establishes for a river is not the ‘springhead in the dale'” (BT 100). By this view, perception is always interpretive. But, if this is the case, again, where is “the thing itself” of perception, and how are we to grasp it “in itself from itself”? To handle this question of evidence, Heidegger seems to present another contrasting position on the readiness-to-hand of objects, a position which is more consistent with his phenomenology than with his hermeneutics.

Heidegger claims that equipment may be encountered as “that which it is” through it’s readiness-to-hand, “in which it manifests itself in its own right” (BT 98). Here, the meaning of equipment is a property of the equipment, rather than understanding which is interpretively projected upon it by the subject. Phenomenologically speaking, under Heidegger’s conception of phenomenology, “Equipment can genuinely show itself … in dealings cut to its measure (hammering with a hammer, for example” (BT 98, emphasis mine). Not only does equipment ready-to-hand possess its meaning “in itself,” it “shows itself” and its meaning to us in our concernful circumspection. It transmits its meaning directly and would not appear to require the hermeneutical circle of understanding. This tension in Heidegger’s conception of “the things themselves” and the object of phenomenological research is inseparable from his methodological tensions, as they are intertwined essentially in the foundations of his thought.

So, why is Heidegger’s work riddled at its foundations by such crucial inconsistencies in his method and in the objects of his research? As Gelvin notes, “Heidegger and other hermeneutic thinkers want to be true to both terms of their descriptive methodology: to let the facts speak for themselves; and at the same time to claim that there are no such things as uninterpreted facts–at least not in those cases where the hermeneutic method applies” (Gelvin 38). And, as we have seen, Gelvin’s observation, “Such a thing seems to consist, if not in a contradiction, at least in a dilemma,” does not put a fine enough point on this important dilemma, which is indeed a contradiction (38). It is a contradiction which is borne out of Heidegger’s young admiration of Husserl’s “principle of principles” and the evidence which it entails, along with his appeal to the hermeneutic element which he find’s implicit in Husserl’s work. Clearly, we can see that Heidegger’s hermeneutic phenomenology “is not so much a rejection of Husserlian phenomenology as a radicalization and deepening of that phenomenology” (Gorner 151). However, by deepening and radicalizing the hermeneutics implicit in Husserl’s work, while retaining his explicit phenomenological principles, Heidegger encounters an inescapable contradiction, one which is written into his final draft of Being and Time, and one which cannot be ignored.

Notes

1. All quotations from Being and Time refer to Macquarrie and Robinson’s translation and pagination.
2. As quoted by Van Buren, pgs 244, 243.
3. This quotation and the quotations in the previous sentence as quoted by Van Buren, pg 241.
4. As quoted by Van Buren, pg 242.
5. As translated and quoted by Gorner, pg 148.
6. As quoted by Caputo, pg 160.
7. As quoted by Caputo, pg 160.
8. As quoted by Caputo, pg 165.
9. As quoted by Caputo, pg 165.
10. As quoted by Van Buren, pg 243.

Bibliography

Caputo, John D. “Husserl, Heidegger and the Question of a “Hermeneutic Phenomenology,” Husserl Studies, 1 (1984), 157-178.

Gelvin, Michael. Commentary on Heidegger’s Being and Time. Dekalb, Illinois: Northern Illinois University Press, 1989.

Gorner, Paul. “Husserl and Heidegger as Phenomenologists,” Journal for the British Society for Phenomenology, Vol. 23, No. 2 (1992), 147-155.

Heidegger, Martin. Being and Time, trans. John Macquarrie and Edward Robinson. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1962.

Kisiel, Theodore. “The Genesis of Being and Time,” Man and World, 25 (1992), 21-37.

Van Buren, John. “The Young Heidegger and Phenomenology,” Man and World, 23 (1990), 239-272.