Life among the algorithms

We are increasingly living in a world regulated by algorithms. Everything from our access to information through air travel and the ways governments treat us is determined in this manner. We would, in fact, be unable to live our contemporary form of life without this.

But this still expanding aspect of life also creates a host of new problems. One of them is that of transparency. Information about us is used by businesses, governments (friendly and unfriendly), and other unaccountable bodies. But in ways we are rarely told of.

More serious still is the fact that we are heaping algorithms on algorithms and this can lead to unwanted outcomes, even to crashes that no one has been able to foresee. Some experts think that such events are already occurring regularly in the world’s stock markets, particularly in places where computers are used in High Frequency trading.

A third threat arises from the fact that we are now designing algorithms that are capable of modifying themselves, of adapting and learning. We may end up not knowing any longer how these will function. The danger is that we may be losing control over our own technology.

Our engineers are unable to tell us what needs to be done in this situation and so they are passing the burden to others. They speak, accordingly, of ethics as “the new frontier in tech,” and foresee even “a golden age for philosophy…. Where there are choices to be made, that’s where ethics comes in.” But philosophers thinking about ethics are unlikely to be able to resolve the problems created by our new technologies. They can perhaps alert us to the existence and urgency of these problems but it’s not in the nature of philosophy to provide us with ready-made answers.

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“Hong Kong is hell.”

That was about the last thing I heard as I was leaving the city. Said by the taxi driver who was taking me to Kowloon Station on the way to the airport. He was grumbling over the incessant building activity, the diversions and obstacle on the way to the station, and the ever congested traffic. But his real complaint was about rising housing costs. “It isn’t only that,” he added. “Store rents are also going up steeply and store prices are following along. Only the super-rich can survive here.” And he wasn’t the only one from whom I heard this during my visit.

Meanwhile the glitzy shopping malls were still full of customers strolling along with bags full of newly acquired possessions. Outside glamorous stores like Gucci, Hermés, and Dior lines of shoppers were waiting patiently to get admitted. Hundreds of mainland Chinese were rolling their suitcases down the marble floors stuffed full of goods to take home for resale. But the glitz, the glamour, and the frenetic shopping activity cannot hide the fact that the gap between super-rich and everyone else is becoming greater and greater in this capitalist paradise.

The result is that more and more young people in Hong Kong fear that they will never be able to afford a home of their own. And the rate of their emigration is going up. They are leaving for places like Taiwan and even far away Iceland. There is also increasing poverty here and the number of homeless is inevitably rising, much of this hidden from the view of visitors and the affluent shoppers. More on this

 

Two views of Beijing

 

 

August 16, 2018

The World Congress of Philosophy is continuing; but today, Thursday, it is mostly student presentations in Chinese. I take time off and get on the subway to do some sightseeing. Since it is a warm, sunny day I decide to visit Beihai Lake, a place I have not seen before. An artificial lake whose surroundings were once reserved for royalty, the lake is studded with the most exquisite mansions and temples along its shores, testimony to an astonishing aesthetic refinement. The beauty can make you shiver.

Today thousands of ordinary Chinese people stroll along the edge of the lake, boat across it, enjoy the sights, and eat ice cream. In one place a group of professional dancers are rehearsing. In another someone has brought along a boombox and couples are spontaneously beginning to dance. Everybody is peaceful, relaxed. I feel completely comfortable in this crowd.

In the distance we can see the hazy skyline of a new, modern Beijing. Out there are incredibly congested motorways, indistinct high-rises lined up mile after mile, air that can be heavy to breathe, though not perhaps today.

In the afternoon I visit the Confucius Temple and the adjoining Imperial Academy. The first time I had been there, in the Spring of 2010, the two places had been almost deserted. I sat for a long time undisturbed in the courtyard meditating on the ancient trees around me. This time, there were visitors galore, all kinds of school classes being led through by their teachers. What had changed? Was it the summer season bringing more visitors? Or had Confucius in the meantime grown in stature and recognition?

I had with me this time Frank Dikötter’s book on the Cultural Revolution. Visiting the lake, the Confucius Temple and traveling through modern Beijing made the events of half a century ago even more eerie. Were these the same people who had lived through those days of violence? I imagined that some of the older folks strolling along the lake might once have been Red Guards embroiled in the most atrocious happenings. It’s a puzzle I carry with me from my own childhood in Germany. An incomprehensible violence seems to be lurking somewhere deep in the human heart but you can’t hear it knocking on clear, sunny days like this one.

This is what I read in Dikötter’s book, as I sat once again under the old trees of the Confucius Temple: “Lao She, one of the most celebrated writers and author of the Rickshaw Boy, had served as a lecturer at the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, in the 1920s. Like many others, he was keen to serve the new regime after 1949, but his background got him into trouble. A few days after the mass rally [August 18, 1966 when Mao had hailed a million Red Guards in Tiananmen Square], he and twenty others were taken by lorry to the Temple of Confucius, a serene compound where hundreds of stone tablets, in the shade of ancient cypress trees, recorded the names of generations of scholars who had successfully passed the imperial examinations. Dozens of school girls from the Eight Middle School stood in two lines, forming a live chain. As the victims were pushed through the human corridor, they were pummeled by the Red Guards, screaming ‘Beat the Black Gang!’ Placards were hung around the necks, stating their names and alleged crimes, as an official photographer recorded the event. The beatings continued for several hours. A day later, Lao She’s body was found in the shallow end of a lake near his childhood residence.”

And just as I come to the end of this passage, another school group gets  ready to pose for a photographer in front of the statue of the philosopher. What do they know of the events of fifty years ago? Their innocent laughter follows me for the rest of the day.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

How many philosophers does it take to learn to be human?

The last of these Congresses took place five years ago in Athens and now Tokyo and Melbourne are hotly competing to host the next one in 2023. An Australian team is handing out cuddly koala bears to garner votes in the coming selection. There must be something to these events. Countries and cities must consider it a matter of prestige to host this event. And aren’t there also more tangible benefits to be derived from it?

This is the first World Congress I am attending and I can’t say that I am enamored with mass meetings of philosophers. My feelings are similar to those of Ludwig Wittgenstein. When the British philosophers arrived one year for their annual meeting in Cambridge, they found one lonely passenger on the station platform waiting to leave town — none other than L.W.

But I am less fastidious and curious to see this congress in action. Besides, I have an invitation to speak and thus an opportunity to present some of my current work. A number of friends will be attending the conference and it will surely be pleasant to see them. Things, however, turn out to be more complex than that. Some of the listed participants never show up; some are there but you never find them. At the same time I run unexpectedly into some old acquaintances. And I meet all kinds of new people. It turns out that the formal conference sessions prove often less interesting than the spontaneous encounters in the corridors.

Such conferences are a thoroughly modern invention. They depend on the fact that we are living far from each other and the possibility, at the same time, of traveling great distances. They allow us to huddle together as a group with shared interests and also to get to unusual places and see new parts of the world. We would, probably, all be better off, if we had stayed at home doing quietly our work. But the incessant churning of the modern world drives us around like the entire rest of the world.

Meeting Joshua Wong

August 11, 2018

It is Saturday morning and I am about to meet up with Joshua Wong at the Bricklane Café right across from Hong Kong’s Legislature where Wong’s political party has its office. It turns out that Wong has already been at work that weekend morning and I am not the only visitor he will see that day.

I am curious to hear from him about the current state of Hong Kong politics. My initial introduction to it had come about in 2010 when I taught a course in political philosophy at the Chinese University of Hong Kong. My students alerted me then to the intricacies of Hong Kong’s political situation and took me along to some of their demonstrations. They appeared rather tame compared to what I had seen of such events in Europe and California. But they proved more effective than I had imagined at the time. In 2014 the “Occupy Central” movement and the student-initiated “umbrella movement” disrupted the city for months in a call for more democracy and this led to hard confrontations with the police. Two years ago, on a visit to Hong Kong University, I had met up with some of the activist leaders including Joshua Wong. At the time they were reasonably hopefully that change might come. They got into electoral politics and some of them were actually elected into the Hong Kong legislature. But since then, the establishment and the government in Beijing have hit back hard.

When Joshua strides into the café, I am struck by how young he looks – and is. Not yet 22, he had become a political activist at the age of 15. I ask him what had got him to do so. And he replies that it was probably his religious Christian upbringing which gave him a strong sense of social responsibility. He is clearly an immensely committed and idealistic figure; one who sees himself as an activist rather than a politician. “Though I realize that one is at times forced to engage in politics. You have to make compromises and deal, for instance, with some politician with whom you otherwise little in common.” A[art from organizing some gigantic political demonstrations, Joshua has founded a political party (“Demosisto”) and serves currently as its general secretary. He has also already been in prison for his activity and is for that reason barred from running for office for the next few years. He has been denounced by establishment forces in Hong Kong and the government in Beijing, he has also been feted in the West, and, unlikely as it sounds, has already been proposed for the Nobel Peace Prize.

All this has not made him lose his cool. He is serious and astonishingly self-contained. He also knows that the road ahead for him will be hard. When I ask him how he sees his future, he speaks first of all of more activism. Only when pressed, does he allow for the possibility that one day he may be working in some other field and possibly even find himself abroad. He is not afraid of being locked up forever. “I am too well known for that,” he is confident. “But one day, trying to come back from abroad, I may find that the door is locked and I am not allowed to return.” Right now, though, he can’t travel abroad. The authorities hold his passport and he is not allowed to cross any border.

In 2017, Wong’s Demosisto party fielded a series of successful candidates for the legislature. The fact that it did, reveals that the party has strong backing in Hong Kong’s population. But the success also alerted Demosisto’s opponents and this has led to serious setbacks for the pro-democracy movement. There have also emerged tensions within it about the strategies to be followed at this point. Wong’s own formula is clear: persist and survive. He is lucky that he is in a position to do so right now. I ask what his expectations are for Hong Kong – in the short and the long run. Wong concedes that Hong Kong is unlikely to become more democratic as long as Xi Jinping is in power. He sees, instead, an educational task ahead. “Our generation had to learn about Tiananmen Square and that knowledge motivated us. Now we need to teach the generation coming after us, those born after the year 2000, about the umbrella movement and its goals.” Much of that work will have to be done via the internet. Demosisto is, in fact, not a political party in the traditional sense. It consists of a small group of activists and a large number of followers who can be reached by facebook, twitter, and Instagram. Wong grants: “I now realize that we should have had more money when we first got going in order to promote our cause more effectively. And I am even more aware today of this need to have the financial means to keep things moving forward.”

But what is his hope for keeping the movement alive? What is the best outcome to be expected? Wong shies away from such questions. Democracy is, after all, first and foremost an ideal and as such never realized in a complete pure form. So, what kind of democracy can the people of Hong Kong reasonably hope for? I am not sure of the answer and I suspect that Joshua is in the same boat.

I suspect that those in the independence, localism, and democracy movement (not all the same) are also deep down motivated by the fact that Hong Kong has been separated for more than a century from China, that it has developed in its own unique way, that it is more international than mainland China, and that it feels this difference most strongly. Living in Hong Kong, I realized that the locals entertained, in fact, plenty of prejudices against the people from the mainland. A Hong Kong lady once asked me whether I understood that the announcements on the subway where in Cantonese, Mandarin, and English. “Mandarin,” she said with a sigh, “so unnecessary.” In such conversations, I have tried to explain my own background. The Rhineland, where I was born, was part of the Roman empire two thousand years ago and we still feel different from the Germans across the Rhine even though we have been officially part of the German state for more than 150 years. Something like this may happen also to Hong Kong. Hopefully, its identity, vitality, and spirit of independence will persist when the “One country, two systems” agreement comes to an end – which will be only too soon, fifteen years from now.

It is impossible to predict how successful Joshua Wong’s activism will be. Will it still, in the long run, transform Hong Kong into a stronger democracy? Will it, perhaps, even contribute to China, as a whole, becoming more openly democratic over time? Or will it, at least, help to maintain Hong Kong democracy at its present, imperfect level? The prospects are uncertain and I can’t help worry about Wong’s personal destiny. Clear in my mind, however, is how uniquely admirable his moral and political commitments are.

You can support Wong and his cause financially from anywhere in the world. Find out more on their website www.demosisto.hk.

Hong Kong Rain

August 11, 2018

It was drizzling yesterday evening as my plane landed in Hong Kong. During the night, a drumbeat of rain kept beating my hotel room window – not an unpleasant sound when you are from water-starved California. This early morning, the weather outside is already hot and sticky as I am struggling to raise my room temperature above fridge-level.

But other things are on my mind. I am planning to meet Joshua Wong this morning, the 25 year-old prodemocracy leader who has already been nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. That may be premature but Wong is certainly an impressively dedicated figure. He became engaged in politics at the age of 15. has mobilized mass demonstrations for political change, has founded a party, and he has been to prison for his activism. And he seems by no means ready to throw in the towel. I hope to get some answers from him about the current status and future of Hong Kong.

What interests me is that the city sits at the point of intersection between China and the Western world and the way it goes is likely to tell us something about the course of global politics. A British creation, Hong Kong was ruled from London for more than a century. No self-government here, no democracy, but plenty of free market capitalism. When Britain finally handed Hong Kong to China under the formula of “One country, two systems” a tentative and partial democracy came into existence. Hong Kong democrats hoped that eventually a more fully formed democracy would emerge and they also hoped that it might serve eventually as an example to China, making it also more democratic in due course. Neither of these two things has happened. And in the last few years China has more openly set limits to Hong Kong’s political freedom. Meanwhile, the city’s style of unconstrained capitalism keeps on flourishing.

The city, I fear, may prove to be a lab case for how the increasingly shaky relations between China and the US will play out in coming decades. Sitting between these two powers, Hong Kong is forced to adapt itself to the forces that pull either way, The result is a peculiar hybrid system. Unlike China, Hong Kong has political parties and elections, but the election process is guided and constrained by Beijing. You might call it partial democracy. But if the conflict between China and the US intensifies, Hong Kong may really find itself exposed in the political rain, forced to seek shelter where it can – which will surely be as part of China. But this does not necessarily mean that the identity of Hong Kong will be entirely submerged in the greater Chinese universe. Hong Kong’s political activists still believe that their democratic spirit will prevail and may even come to infuse China.

There is a third possibility: that Hong Kong is a model for where both East and West are heading. It’s a fallacy that people are completely free to choose their political order. If we assume that material, and above all technological conditions circumscribe political options, we may want to conclude that the political systems of China and the West are bound to converge, given that they are on the same trajectory of technological development. What we might see then is a West that is less fully democratic than it is now and a China that is a little more so. In both parts of the world will there be thriving quasi-democracies as well as thriving capitalist markets. At that point, the whole world will have become one great Hong Kong. There are plenty of reasons for being unhappy with such a potential outcome.

It’s, in any case, from my friend Joshua Wong that I hope for some insightful thoughts on these worries.

 

 

 

 

Wittgenstein and von Humboldt on the description of the world

Wittgenstein’s Tractatus begins with two stark assertions about the world and these are followed by a series of further remarks on the same topic later in the text. These assertions deserve more attention than our interpreters have given them so far because they open up to some of the deepest layers of the Tractatus as I have tried to show in an essay entitled “Wittgenstein’s World.” I now want to turn to a second, closely connected topic that Wittgenstein also addresses in the Tractatus that calls equally for more examination. It is the topic of our relation to the world. The Tractatus speaks of this in three interconnected ways. Where the book had begun with an assertion about the world being all that is the case, it ends with the admonition that we must “see the world rightly.” (TLP, 6.54) Throughout the Tractatus as well as in later writings, Wittgenstein speaks of the seeing of things and of seeing them in the right way. We should therefore ask what it means to see the world in the right way. Second, Wittgenstein also talks in the Tractatus of our view or views of the world. There is, he says, a modern view of the world (Weltanschauung): “At the basis of the whole modern view of the world lies the illusion that the so-called laws of nature are the explanation of natural phenomena.” By contrast “the ancients,” i.e., the world view of the ancients, stopped with God and Fate as unassailable. Both the moderns and the ancients, Wittgenstein adds, “are right and wrong.” “But the ancients were clearer, in so far as they recognized one clear terminus, whereas the modern system makes it appear as though everything were explained.” (TLP 6.371-6.372) Somewhat later he remarks on the same topic: “The view of the world sub specie aeterni is its view as a – limited – whole.” (TLP, 6.45 The notion of a world view is again one that Wittgenstein comes back to in other writings. We want to ask what a world view consists in, according to him, what it means to have a world view, and what it is to see the world as a limited whole.

Finally, the Tractatus speaks of descriptions of the world. “Newtonian mechanics,” we read, “brings the description of the world (Weltbeschreibung) to a unified form.” In the unusually detailed passage 6.341, Wittgenstein imagines different nets superimposed on a surface of irregular spots. Each net can be used to give a description of the surface “in a unified form.” The form of the net, he asserts, is arbitrary but a description of the surface in terms of one net may be simpler than one in terms of another net and for that reason presumably preferable. “To the different networks correspond different systems of describing the world. Mechanics determines one form of the description of the world.” And in conclusion, he emphasizes once again: “Mechanics is an attempt to construct all true propositions that we need for the description of the world according to one single plan.” (TLP, 6.343)

My intention here is to focus first of all on the notion of a description of the world and to work myself forward to an examination of the notion of world view as Wittgenstein uses it, and to raise finally the question what it means to see the world rightly.

Von Humboldt’s Weltbeschreibung

In 1827, Alexander von Humboldt, the famous explorer of the Americas and natural scientist, delivered a much-acclaimed series of lectures in Paris and Berlin in which he sought to bring his entire knowledge of the natural world together into a single narrative account. Almost twenty years later he began to work this material into the form of a book. Its first volume appeared in 1845. Three others followed in the years up to 1859. To indicate the scope and intention of the work von Humboldt revived a term from Pythagorean and Platonic philosophy and called his book: Kosmos. “What provided me the main impetus,” he wrote, “was the desire to see the manifestations of bodily things in their general context, nature as a whole moved and animated by inner forces.” He had, so he added, initially conceived of a description of the earth (an Erdbeschreibung) based on the knowledge he had gathered in his journeys. But his perspective had widened and he was now trying to give an account encompassing everything on earth and in the heavens and so he subtitled his book: Entwurf einer physischen Weltbeschreibung which we might translate as “Project design for a description of the physical world.”

To von Humboldt’s surprise, his book became an instant bestseller, was quickly translated into the major European languages, and reprinted a number of times during the following decades. After that it was largely forgotten, surpassed by new scientific discoveries and attitudes. But more recently the book has gained some new readers because of its holistic and ecological perspective. In the present context, Humboldt’s work is of interest to me because of the light in throws on Wittgenstein’s use of the somewhat unusual term “Weltbeschreibung.” This is not to suggest that Wittgenstein had read von Humboldt’s work. I am unaware of any evidence to that effect. But given the fame of the work we should not exclude the possibility. Von Humboldt’s thinking and terminology may also, of course, have reached Wittgenstein in another, more indirect fashion. His remarks on the topic of a world description anticipate, in any case, some of Wittgenstein’s thoughts though they also diverge from him in other significant respects. But I assume that Wittgenstein’s thinking on the topic profited in both respects either directly or indirectly from von Humboldt’s treatment.

Von Humboldt’s animating thought was that of the world as a whole. He wanted to achieve, as he put it, “insight into the order of the universe (Weltall).” In the third volume he restated the point once more by explaining that “the main principle of my work … is contained in the drive to understand the phenomena of the world as a principle of nature, to show how in particular groups of these phenomena their shared determination has been recognized, i.e., the rule of great laws, and how one rises from these laws to the investigation of their original interconnection.” Von Humboldt was clear that natural science would always have to do with the investigation of particulars. The project of a world-description was by no means itself a science. “What I call a physical world-description … does therefore not lay claim to the rank of a rational science of nature; it is a thoughtful reflection on the empirical phenomena as a natural whole (als eines Naturganzen).” He even called his book at times very modestly “conversations about nature.” He also spoke of it as a poetic and artistic work and as nature painting (Naturgemälde), analogous, perhaps, to a landscape painting. Von Humboldt was not even sure whether we could ever come up with a complete world-description and he certainly didn’t assume that he was giving one. The natural sciences are still developing, he wrote, and their researches may never come to an end. Often we lack knowledge of the causal relations. The kind of world description that was now possible was therefore, in fact, “only in some parts a world-explanation. The two expressions can as yet not be considered to mean the same.” For all these reasons, von Humboldt called his book a mere “Entwurf” for a world-description – a project design, as I translate the term; we might also say a sketch.

He qualified his project moreover, by calling it a “physical” world-description or a description of the physical world. It was the material universe that concerned him, not any separate ideal or spiritual reality. But he wanted to describe this physical world in an integral manner from the most distant stars to the smallest plants on earth. His account was meant to unite the “uranological and telluric spheres,” as he put it, the astronomical and the terrestrial domain as well as their interconnection. He saw human life, moreover, as part of this whole, not as separated from it. “Nature is for thoughtful reflection a unity in a multiplicity, a combination of a manifold in form and mixture, an encompassing notion of natural object and natural forces as a living whole.” The human species reworks the material that the sense present and “the products of such mental labor belong just as essential to the domain of the cosmos as the internally reflected phenomena.’’ The diversity of human cultures and human languages are part of the cosmic whole. “World-description and world-history are for that reason located in the same experiential plain.”

While he considered the project of a physical world-description as new, von Humboldt assumed that even our most primitive ancestors had a dark feeling “of the unity of the natural powers, of the mysterious tie that connect the sensory and the supersensory.” But in the absence of sufficient empirical knowledge, these world views had been expressed in numerous, different, and sometimes fantastic forms. In the Introduction to his first volume von Humboldt promised, among other things, a “history of world views, i.e., of the gradual dawning of the concept of the interaction of forces in nature as a whole.” In the end he limited himself, however, to a summary account of this development from the early Greeks to Newton. The ancient Greeks had initially venerated “the rule of spiritual powers in human form.” More abstract forms of world view had been developed by the Ionian and Pythagorean philosophers. Von Humboldt treated with sympathy, in particular, the Aristotelian view of the world but then jumped quickly to an “expansion of cosmic views” in the 13th and 14th century. With a mere reference to Roger Bacon, Albertus Magnus and his Liber Cosmographicus, and Peter d’Ailly, he jumped to Giordano Bruno, Kepler and his Mysterium cosmographicum, Descartes and his Traité du Monde, and from there to what he called Newton’s “immortal work.” Newton, he wrote, had taken an essential step in the development of world views; he had “elevated physical astronomy into a solution of one of the great problems of mechanics, a mathematical science.” His words made clear that he saw Newton as a forerunner to his own physical world description.

Two points stand out in von Humboldt’s story. The first is his pre-occupation with the concepts of unity, oneness, wholeness, of “inner links between the universal and the particular.” He would sometimes speak of this totality (Weltall, Naturganzes) in a scientific spirit as held together by universal laws (Weltgesetze), as something to be accounted for in the spirit of Newton with the help of a mathematized science of mechanics; but he would also allow himself at times a more Romantic characterization of this totality as a “living whole,” as something built on a world plan (Weltplan) and embodying an all-encompassing idea (Weltgedanke).

The second important is that he considered this concern with the totality of the world a an essential human drive for “the first, highest, and inner purpose of intellectual activity consists in the discovery of natural laws, the exploration of the orderly structure of natural formations, insight into the necessary connection of all changes in the universe.” But contemplation of the world as a unity had in addition a still deeper meaning. It gives aesthetic (and implicitly moral) satisfaction. Nature, von Humboldt wrote “is the realm of freedom” and it can provide us with a deep sense of freedom. What we call the enjoyment of nature is entrance in to this freedom (Eintritt in das Freie).” The early pages of von Humboldt’s Kosmos are for that reason devoted to impress on his readers the idea of the enjoyment of nature. This enjoyment is by no means diminished, it is, in fact, deepened, by a proper scientific understanding of the world.

The Wittgenstein Project

My project is simple but demanding. I am trying to reread Wittgenstein from the beginning without, however, relying on any established interpretations. My question is whether we can look at his work with fresh eyes. Ignoring the halo of secondary writing that now surrounds that work does not mean that I will always end up disagreeing with what previous interpreters have said. But my plan is to re-discover their insights where they are such and otherwise go my own way.

In doing this, I want to look more thoroughly at Wittgenstein’s own words than has previously been done. I don’t know how far I will get with this but completeness is not my goal. It is rather to start with the first sentence of the Tractatus and work myself forward from there as far as I can manage.

This will obviously be slow going, So far I have not got far beyond the first sentence of the Tractatus. Thinking about any particular sentence or phrase will, of course, often take me both backwards and forwards in Wittgenstein’s writings. So my approach will be less atomistic than it might sound. As far as my thoughts on the first sentence go, I have put two things down in this website. There is a power point file on the topic (in English) and there is the text of a lecture on it (in German).

I am about to add part of a third piece that explores Wittgenstein’s notion of a “world description.”