What’s God Got to Do with It?: A Response to Claire Katz

The original context for the remarks that follow was a book session at the annual meeting of the Society for Phenomenology and Existential Philosophy in October 2009.¹ Somewhat surprisingly, both sets of comments at the session focused on what it might mean that the Jewish philosopher Emmanuel Levinas—variously identified by key terms like revelation and creation, by God, or by reference to Levinas’s confessional writings and the texts of the Jewish tradition—appeared to be absent from my book, The Ethics of Emmanuel Levinas. Now admittedly, these texts and terms and their relation to Levinas’s main philosophical works is not explicitly discussed in the book, but the fact that both respondents focused almost exclusively on this absence raises the question of whether one needs to invoke religious terms in a discussion of Levinas’s reflections on ethics and ethical life. In effect, can a reading of Levinas’s ethical thought succeed without referring to God or the texts of the Jewish tradition? While in one sense, this question is quite beside the point of what I was trying to do in the book, in another, it touches quite closely on a central concern of that work; namely, what if anything justifies or provides a warrant for the exorbitant sort of responsibility that Levinas talks about throughout his writings, philosophical and confessional alike?

I will return to this point momentarily in the context of a more detailed discussion of Claire Katz’s remarks, but allow me to begin by expanding briefly on the point of departure for the analysis of Levinas offered in my book. When I first read Levinas, the two features of his thought that struck me as completely fascinating and utterly perplexing were the account of an alterity so absolute that it defied conceptuality and the notion of a responsibility so infinite that it rendered “me,” the ego, a hostage to the other. What could these two phrases—“absolute alterity” and “infinite responsibility”—mean? Clearly, neither phrase could be meant literally. There simply is nothing that is wholly immune to concepts; and as Levinas himself learned from the study of Henri Bergson, even “nothingness” is, and thus ontology and conceptuality, hand in hand, seem to be fundamental. Similarly, if responsibility is infinite, where infinity is reasonably thought to designate the scope of one’s obligation, the notion becomes incoherent. If I literally cannot do something, then in what sense ought I to do it? A responsibility for everything and everyone is seemingly just the same as having no responsibility at all. And what is most perplexing in all of this is that this inconceivable alterity is said to bring about, in some manner, this impossible responsibility. Let me add that it seemed to me on that first reading (and it still does) to be completely unhelpful to identify “God” either with absolute alterity or with the force of the command that renders us infinitely responsible to the other. To substitute God for alterity, or to claim that God commands our responsibility, explains nothing; it may well be one way of admitting or signaling that explanation has come to an end, but it does not necessarily add anything to that admission. Given the perplexities that beset my first reading of Levinas, it seemed to me that the first task for anyone writing about Levinas and ethics would be to work out the relation between alterity (or transcendence, or the other) and responsibility (as infinite, irrecusable, and asymmetrical). That, effectively, is what the book sets out to do.

A second set of motivations for the book intersects with this first set of problems, though in this case, it is less a problem internal to Levinas’s thought and more a problem that arises in connection with certain habits of reading that have become entrenched in the secondary literature. There is a line of interpretation about Levinas’s thought that for many years went largely unchallenged. This “standard” reading begins with the idea that, for Levinas, ethics is not one branch of philosophy among others, rather it is...