Sunday, 11 January 2026

The Evolution of Possibility: 1 Possibility as Dynamic, Not Given

Possibility is often imagined as a pre-existing space: a container of options, a catalogue of potentialities waiting to be actualised. This image is misleading. Possibility is not something inert, external, or given. It is dynamic, relational, and continuously evolving.

To understand this, we must first shift perspective: possibility does not exist independently of the systems that articulate it. Just as meaning emerges through relational cuts, sedimentation, and constraint, the field of what can occur — the space of possibility itself — is generated, structured, and maintained through these same processes. Possibility is not simply “there” to be chosen; it is produced and transformed through the ongoing activity of relational systems.


1. Constraints Are Generative

Constraints are not limitations on what can happen; they are the conditions that make new possibilities intelligible. Without constraints, nothing can be distinguished, foregrounded, or sustained. Constraints provide a relational framework that defines which trajectories can emerge, which distinctions can be maintained, and which articulations can persist.

Dynamic possibility arises precisely because constraints focus, organise, and structure potential. Far from reducing freedom, constraints enable variation. A system without constraint is a sea of undifferentiated potential; a system with constraints is a landscape in which novelty can emerge, patterns can stabilise, and intelligible outcomes can be achieved.


2. Sedimentation Shapes the Field of Possibility

Possibility is also shaped by history — by the sedimentation of past relational successes. What a system can do now depends on what it has already done: which cuts were stabilised, which distinctions were repeated, which patterns persisted.

Sedimentation does two things simultaneously:

  1. It preserves stability, allowing systems to rely on prior achievements.

  2. It generates new possibilities by defining what counts as intelligible variation.

In other words, the past is not a prison of fixed potential; it is the engine of generative evolution. Novelty emerges from what has already sedimented, constrained not as a restriction, but as a springboard for intelligible innovation.


3. Cuts as the Drivers of Emergence

Possibility unfolds through perspectival cuts. Every cut foregrounds some distinctions and backgrounds others. Every articulation creates conditions for subsequent articulations. Possibility is never simply “available”; it is shaped by the sequence of cuts that structure relational fields.

These cuts are not random. They operate under constraints, sedimentation, and systemic patterns. The evolving field of possibility is a dynamic topology: peaks, valleys, and trajectories emerge, collapse, and recombine as the system continues to articulate itself.


4. Dynamic, Not Pre-Given

Taken together, these points make clear that possibility cannot be treated as a pre-given container or a neutral space. It is dynamic, contingent, and generative. Systems do not pick from a pre-existing menu of options; they produce the menu as they go, guided by relational constraints, sedimented patterns, and perspectival cuts.

Freedom and novelty are real, but they exist within structured relational fields. Intelligibility is not imposed afterward; it is intrinsic to the generation of possibility itself.


Conclusion

Possibility is alive. It is not a backdrop for action but the effect of ongoing relational articulation. It evolves, shifts, and expands as systems cut, constrain, and sediment. To understand possibility is to see the world not as a catalogue of what could be, but as a relational landscape that continually generates what can appear, be maintained, and be intelligible.

In the next post, we will explore how constraints, sedimentation, and relational patterns drive novelty and variation, showing how the evolution of possibility is not chaos, but generative order.

Intelligibility as the Unifying Principle

Across the last few series, a subtle thread has run through every argument: intelligibility. It is the quiet condition that makes meaning possible, the unseen medium in which phenomena appear coherent, objects stabilise, and relational patterns endure.

Intelligibility is not a property of objects. It is not something “out there” waiting to be mirrored or captured. It is the relational effect of cuts, constraints, and sedimentation. Wherever phenomena appear meaningful, intelligibility is at work: making distinctions matter, foregrounding some possibilities while backgrounding others, and producing the stability we habitually mistake for a pre-given world.

This perspective reframes familiar questions:

  • Meaning is not about anything because intelligibility does not require correspondence — it requires relational articulation.

  • Objects are not foundational because their apparent stability is the outcome of intelligibility maintained over time.

  • Representation persists because it exploits intelligible patterns, not because it generates them.

Seen through this lens, the series are not separate explorations but facets of a single conceptual structure. Possibility, The Cut, Constraint, and Relation Without Representation are all different ways of tracing how intelligibility emerges and sustains itself.

Foregrounding intelligibility clarifies the stakes. It explains why meaning, freedom, novelty, and order coexist without contradiction. It reveals why the world appears stable, even though stability is an achievement rather than a given. And it makes explicit the subtle work that representation, objects, and reference perform — powerful practices, but always secondary to the relational field in which intelligibility is generated.

In short: intelligibility is the thread that binds these series together. Recognising it allows readers to see not only the distinctions themselves but the structure of their interrelation, and to understand meaning as a dynamic, emergent, and deeply relational phenomenon.

On Relation Without Representation: 6 Meaning After Representation

We have reached the culmination of this series.

We began by showing that representation is the wrong starting point. Then we established that relation is ontologically prior to reference, that meaning is not fundamentally about anything, that objects are stabilised relational effects, and that the representational reflex persists because it works.

Now we can ask: what does meaning itself look like, once representation is understood as derivative rather than foundational?


1. Meaning as Relational Intelligibility

Meaning is not a mirror of the world. It is not a matter of symbols pointing to objects, or thoughts corresponding to states of affairs. Meaning arises where relational articulations under constraint produce phenomena that are intelligible.

A phenomenon becomes meaningful when it is foregrounded against a background of excluded possibilities, when it coheres with sedimented patterns, and when it resonates with other relational structures in the system. Meaning is the effect of relational success, not the result of correspondence or aboutness.

Representation can participate in this process, but only secondarily. Words, symbols, and diagrams function as tools within a relationally structured field; they do not generate intelligibility from scratch.


2. Objects and Reference as Emergent, Not Foundational

Objects are no longer the precondition of meaning. They are stabilised relational effects, sustained by repetition, constraint, and coordination. Reference is a derived practice: it works because relational patterns have sedimented sufficiently for entities to appear persistent and identifiable.

The apparent “aboutness” of meaning — the way we experience it as directed toward objects — is thus an emergent effect, a phenomenological surface of deep relational structure. It is powerful, coherent, and functionally indispensable, but it does not anchor meaning ontologically.


3. Freedom Within Structure

Understanding meaning relationally restores a dynamic balance between constraint and freedom. Intelligibility requires structure, but structure does not exhaust possibility. Cuts, constraints, and sedimented patterns create the field in which novel articulations can emerge. Meaning unfolds not as a fixed mapping, but as a dynamic interplay between stability and innovation, persistence and variation.

Representation, when understood as derivative, becomes a flexible tool rather than a binding framework. It is available where it aids coordination, but it is no longer mistaken for the source of intelligibility.


4. Implications for Thought and Practice

Meaning after representation changes the lens through which we view cognition, language, art, and perception:

  • Cognition: Thought is relational articulation within structured potential, not manipulation of pre-given representations.

  • Language: Words coordinate intelligibility without pre-existing referents; grammar, register, and context shape relational fields, not mirror reality.

  • Art and music: Patterns, constraints, and repetition create intelligible phenomena that do not need to “stand for” anything external.

  • Perception: Distinctions, objects, and surfaces emerge relationally; the world’s stability is a systemic achievement, not an imposed fact.

Representation remains useful, but it is instrumental, not foundational. This shift dissolves puzzles about misrepresentation, error, or the limits of correspondence. Meaning is intelligible because relational articulation works, not because symbols latch onto pre-existing objects.


5. The Synthesis

Meaning after representation is therefore:

  • Relational: intelligibility arises from articulation within structured potential.

  • Derivative, not foundational: objects and reference emerge from relational patterns, not the other way around.

  • Generative: constraints structure possibility, allowing novelty without collapsing coherence.

  • Surface and depth: what appears as aboutness or representation is the phenomenological expression of deeper relational processes.

Representation is no longer the master. It is a tool, powerful and reliable, but always dependent on relational structure. Freedom, constraint, novelty, and intelligibility coexist without contradiction. Meaning is produced, maintained, and sustained by the system itself.


Conclusion

Once relation is primary, representation is no longer necessary — though it persists as a functional and highly successful practice. Meaning emerges where relational patterns succeed under constraint; objects and reference appear as stabilised effects; freedom and novelty unfold within structured possibility.

This is the post-representational landscape:
a world intelligible without mirrors, a meaning that does not need to point outward, and objects that hold because relational articulation holds.

On Relation Without Representation: 5 The Persistence of the Representational Reflex

If representation is not foundational — if relation precedes reference, meaning is not about anything, and objects are stabilised relational effects — then a natural question follows:

Why does representational thinking persist so stubbornly?

The answer is not that philosophers, linguists, or cognitive scientists have simply made a mistake. The representational reflex persists because it works. It is a powerful, pragmatically successful way of coordinating action within systems that have already achieved high degrees of relational stability. Its persistence is itself a phenomenon that requires explanation.

Representation emerges where relational patterns have sedimented sufficiently to support reliable re-identification. When phenomena recur in stable ways across contexts, systems learn to treat those stabilisations as if they were independent objects. At that point, it becomes efficient to speak and think in representational terms. Reference is not imposed arbitrarily; it is earned through repeated success.

Once earned, it becomes difficult to relinquish.

Representational habits simplify coordination. They allow complex relational achievements to be compressed into apparently simple entities. Instead of tracking a dense web of constraints, histories, and contextual dependencies, systems can operate with compact stand-ins: “this object,” “that property,” “the same thing again.” These stand-ins are not illusions; they are relational shortcuts.

The danger arises when these shortcuts are mistaken for foundations.

Because representational practices are so effective, they invite reification. What began as a pragmatic condensation is mistaken for an ontological primitive. The system forgets the relational work that made representation possible and begins to treat objects and references as self-sufficient. The representational reflex is thus a form of conceptual amnesia: the erasure of the conditions of one’s own success.

This amnesia is reinforced by education, formalisation, and abstraction. As systems become more complex, they rely increasingly on stable representations to function at scale. Scientific models, legal categories, technical vocabularies, and bureaucratic forms all depend on representational compression. The more successful these systems are, the more natural representation appears.

At this point, representation feels unavoidable.

Importantly, none of this makes representation false. It makes it derivative. Representation is a second-order practice that operates within relationally structured systems. It is powerful precisely because it rides on the back of deep relational stability. But when that stability is taken for granted, representation is mistaken for the source rather than the effect of intelligibility.

This explains why representational critiques so often stall. Attacking representation directly provokes resistance, because it threatens tools that people rely on. A relational account avoids this trap by reframing the issue. Representation is not wrong; it is incomplete. It does not explain meaning’s emergence, but it can operate effectively once meaning has emerged.

The representational reflex also persists because it aligns neatly with phenomenology. From within a system that has already stabilised objects, meaning feels outward-facing. Words appear to latch onto things. Thoughts appear to be about the world. This experiential orientation is real — but it is not ontologically basic. It is a surface effect of deep relational success.

Recognising this does not require abandoning representational practices. It requires relocating them.

When representation is treated as a derivative, context-bound achievement, its limits become visible. It can be used where it works and set aside where it distorts. The system regains flexibility. Meaning is no longer held hostage to correspondence, and intelligibility is no longer forced into an object-first mould.

The persistence of the representational reflex, then, is not a failure of thought. It is evidence of how well relational systems can stabilise their own achievements. The task is not to eradicate representation, but to remember what makes it possible.

In the final post, we will draw these threads together and articulate what meaning looks like after representation. We will show how relational intelligibility, constraint, and cut together support a robust account of meaning — one that retains everything representation was meant to secure, without mistaking its derivative practices for foundations.

That is the final step.

On Relation Without Representation: 4 Objects as Stabilised Relational Effects

If meaning is not fundamentally about anything, a familiar worry immediately arises: what becomes of objects? If meaning does not point to a pre-given world of things, does the world dissolve into indeterminacy? Are objects reduced to illusions, projections, or convenient fictions?

The answer is no. Objects are not denied — they are explained.

What a relational ontology rejects is not the existence of objects, but their ontological primacy. Objects are not the foundation upon which meaning is built. They are the outcome of relational processes that stabilise over time. They are effects, not primitives.

To see this, we need to revisit what an object appears to be. An object presents itself as:

  • bounded,

  • persistent,

  • re-identifiable across contexts,

  • and available to reference.

These features feel basic. Yet none of them are given outright. Each is an achievement.

Boundaries arise where relational contrasts stabilise. Persistence arises where patterns are successfully reiterated. Identity arises where variation remains constrained within recognisable limits. Re-identifiability arises where coordination across instances succeeds. In every case, what appears as an object is the result of ongoing relational maintenance.

Objects are therefore not self-subsisting entities that relations later connect. They are relational condensations — regions of relative stability within a field of structured potential. Their apparent independence is a function of how successfully they are sustained, not a metaphysical guarantee.

This also explains why objects can tolerate variation without losing their identity. A chair can be painted, repaired, moved, or partially broken and still count as the same chair. What persists is not a substance, but a pattern of relational constraints that continues to hold across changes. Objecthood is not all-or-nothing; it is graded, context-sensitive, and historically sedimented.

From this perspective, the success of reference is no longer mysterious. Reference works not because words latch onto metaphysical atoms, but because systems have learned to coordinate around stable relational effects. When relational patterns are sufficiently robust, they can be treated as if they were independent things. This “as if” is not an error — it is a pragmatic achievement.

Crucially, this account avoids both extremes that dominate debates about objects. On one side lies naive realism, which treats objects as simply given. On the other lies constructivist scepticism, which treats them as mere projections. A relational ontology rejects both. Objects are neither given nor invented; they are maintained.

They exist because systems can sustain them.

This maintenance is not passive. It requires constraint, repetition, and successful articulation across contexts. When these fail, objecthood degrades. We encounter ambiguity, vagueness, breakdown, or transformation. The world does not disappear — but its stabilisations shift. Objects are resilient, but not invulnerable.

Seen this way, the world’s apparent solidity is no longer puzzling. It is the visible surface of deep relational work. Stability is not evidence of metaphysical substance; it is evidence of systemic success.

This also clarifies why representational accounts cling so tightly to objects. Once relational stabilisations have sedimented, they feel foundational. Meaning appears to depend on them. But this reverses the order of explanation. Objects do not make meaning possible; meaning — understood as relational intelligibility — makes objects possible.

Objects are what meaning looks like when it holds.

In the next post, we will turn to a question that now demands attention: why, if representation is derivative, does representational thinking persist so stubbornly? Why does the reflex to treat meaning as about objects reassert itself even after its foundations have been displaced?

Understanding this persistence will allow us to explain representation itself — not as a mistake, but as a powerful, sedimented habit of relational systems.

That is where we go next.

On Relation Without Representation: 3 Why Meaning Is Not About Anything

If relation is ontologically prior to reference, then a further consequence follows — one that is often resisted even by those sympathetic to relational approaches:

meaning is not fundamentally about anything.

This claim is easily misunderstood, so it is worth proceeding carefully. To say that meaning is not about anything is not to deny that language, diagrams, gestures, or thoughts can be used to refer. Nor is it to deny that we experience meaning as about objects, events, or states of affairs. The claim is deeper and more precise: aboutness is not an ontological primitive. It is an achievement that arises under specific relational conditions.

The representational tradition treats aboutness as basic. Meaning, on this view, consists in standing-for, pointing-to, or mirroring something beyond itself. The task of theory is then to explain how this pointing succeeds. But as we have already seen, reference presupposes intelligibility rather than generating it. The same is true, more sharply still, of aboutness.

Before anything can be about something, a field of intelligibility must already exist in which distinctions can appear, persist, and matter. Aboutness assumes:

  • differentiated phenomena,

  • stable identities,

  • backgrounded alternatives,

  • and a perspective from which something can count as something.

None of these are supplied by aboutness itself. They are the outcome of relational articulation within structured potential.

Meaning, at its most basic, is not directional. It does not point outward toward an object. It emerges inwardly, as intelligibility under a cut. A phenomenon appears as meaningful not because it refers to something else, but because it is articulated against a background of excluded possibilities within a relational field. Meaning is the effect of this articulation — not a relation of correspondence.

This is why meaning can be present even when nothing is being referred to. A melody is meaningful without being about anything. A colour contrast is meaningful without representing an object. A syntactic structure can be meaningful even when it is semantically empty or nonsensical. In each case, intelligibility precedes reference. Aboutness may later be layered on, but meaning does not depend on it.

The persistence of aboutness as a conceptual default stems from a conflation: the conflation of phenomenal orientation with ontological structure. We experience meaning as directed, intentional, and outward-facing. But this phenomenological orientation is itself a relational effect. It arises when stable patterns have sedimented sufficiently for certain articulations to function reliably as if they were about independent objects.

From within such a system, aboutness feels primitive. From outside it — or rather, from beneath it — it is clearly derivative.

Once this is seen, several long-standing philosophical puzzles dissolve rather than being solved. The problem of how meaning “reaches” the world evaporates, because meaning was never a reaching relation in the first place. The anxiety about misrepresentation loses its grip, because correspondence was never foundational. Error, fiction, abstraction, and imagination all become intelligible variations within relational systems, not deviations from an assumed representational norm.

This does not impoverish meaning. It enriches it.

Meaning is no longer constrained to succeed or fail at mirroring reality. It is understood as the articulation of intelligibility — the way phenomena appear as differentiated, salient, and coherent within structured potential. Aboutness becomes one mode among others, a powerful and useful one, but not the ground of meaning itself.

This shift also clarifies why representational explanations so often feel satisfying while remaining ontologically shallow. Aboutness works because systems are capable of sustaining stable relational patterns over time. When those patterns are treated as independent objects, meaning appears to point outward. But this outwardness is an effect of sedimentation, not a foundation.

Meaning is not about anything because it does not need to be.
It does its work earlier.

In the next post, we will show how this account recovers what representational theories thought they alone could secure: the apparent stability of objects. We will see that objects are not the ground of meaning, but neither are they illusions. They are stabilised relational effects, sustained through constraint, repetition, and successful coordination.

Meaning does not point to objects.
Objects emerge where meaning holds.

That is where we turn next.

On Relation Without Representation: 2 Relation Before Reference

If representation is the wrong starting point, the immediate question becomes unavoidable: what replaces it? What, if not reference, lies at the foundation of intelligibility?

The answer is relation — but not relation understood as a linkage between pre-existing entities. That familiar conception simply reintroduces representation through the back door. What is required is a more radical shift: relation is ontologically prior to relata. Entities do not come first and then enter into relations; rather, entities stabilise within relational fields.

This claim runs counter to a deeply ingrained metaphysical habit. We are accustomed to thinking that there are things, and that relations describe how those things are connected. But this picture already assumes determinate identities, boundaries, and persistence — precisely the features that require explanation. Relation, in this traditional sense, is explanatory garnish added after the real work has supposedly been done by objects.

A relational ontology reverses this order.

Relations are not secondary connections; they are the conditions under which anything can appear as distinct, stable, or identifiable at all. What we later describe as “entities” are patterns of relational consistency — regions of stability that emerge within structured potential. They are not ontological atoms; they are relational achievements.

Once this reversal is made, reference loses its foundational status.

Reference presupposes that there is something already there to be referred to: an object, a state of affairs, a determinate target. It also presupposes a stable perspective from which reference can succeed or fail. But both of these presuppositions depend on prior relational articulation. Before a term can refer, a field of intelligibility must already be in place in which distinctions matter, identities persist, and contrasts are meaningful.

Reference does not create this field. It exploits it.

Seen this way, reference is a specialised relational practice that arises within already-articulated systems. It is not a bridge between language and world; it is a pattern of coordination within a relational field that has already produced the appearance of both “language” and “world” as distinct domains. The apparent gap that reference is meant to cross is itself a product of prior relational stabilisation.

This is why attempts to ground meaning in reference repeatedly stall. They try to explain intelligibility by appeal to a mechanism that already depends on intelligibility. No account of pointing, denotation, or correspondence can explain how distinctions come to matter in the first place. Reference assumes that work has already been done.

Relation, by contrast, operates at the level where that work occurs.

Relational articulation does not point outward; it differentiates inwardly. Under constraints, cuts foreground some possibilities and background others, producing phenomena that are intelligible as such. Stability emerges through repetition, sedimentation, and successful coordination. Identity is not given; it is maintained. Distinction is not discovered; it is enacted.

From within such a system, reference can emerge as a reliable pattern: a way of coordinating across instances by treating certain stabilisations as if they were independent objects. This “as if” is crucial. Reference works because systems can sustain stable relational patterns over time, not because they have direct access to a pre-articulated reality.

To say that relation is prior to reference is therefore not to deny reference its efficacy. It is to deny it ontological primacy.

Reference is downstream. It depends on:

  • a structured field of possibility,

  • sedimented constraints,

  • stable relational patterns,

  • and the successful articulation of phenomena.

Remove these, and reference has nothing to latch onto.

This shift also clarifies why representational thinking feels so compelling. Once relational stabilisations have sedimented sufficiently, the world appears object-like. Reference then feels natural, even obvious. But this apparent obviousness is an achievement of the system, not a window onto its foundations.

In this light, the task of a theory of meaning is not to explain how symbols reach outward to the world, but to explain how relational fields generate the very conditions under which “symbols” and “world” can appear as separable at all.

Relation comes first.
Reference follows.

In the next post, we will take the final step that this claim demands and examine a consequence that is often resisted even by relational accounts: meaning is not fundamentally about anything. Aboutness, too, will turn out to be a derivative effect — intelligible, powerful, and useful, but not ontologically basic.

That move will be uncomfortable for some readers.
Which is how we’ll know it’s doing its job.

On Relation Without Representation: 1 Why Representation Is the Wrong Starting Point

Representation has become the default explanatory posture for meaning. We ask how words represent things, how thoughts represent states of affairs, how symbols stand for objects in the world. These questions feel natural, even inevitable. And yet they already assume what they claim to explain.

To begin with representation is to begin too late.

Representation presupposes a world of determinate entities: objects with identities, properties, and boundaries already in place. It presupposes that meaning is a relation between two independently constituted domains — symbols on one side, things on the other — and that the philosophical task is to explain how the bridge is crossed. But this framing quietly imports a fully articulated ontology before meaning has even entered the scene.

The result is a circularity so familiar that it often goes unnoticed. Representation is invoked to explain meaning, but meaning is already doing the work of making representation possible. Before anything can represent anything else, there must already be intelligibility: a structured field in which distinctions can appear, persist, and matter. Representation does not generate intelligibility; it presupposes it.

This becomes clearer if we pause over the question that representation takes for granted. The representational tradition asks: How do symbols refer to objects? But this is not the fundamental question. A more basic question precedes it, one that representation cannot answer:

How does anything become intelligible at all?

If we take this question seriously, the representational frame begins to wobble. Intelligibility does not arrive after objects are given; it is the condition under which anything can appear as an object in the first place. Distinctions, identities, and stabilities are not self-present features of a pre-given world waiting to be mirrored. They are the outcome of articulation within a structured field of possibility.

To start with representation is therefore to mistake a derivative achievement for a foundation.

This is not to deny that representation exists or that it functions effectively. Maps guide travellers, words coordinate action, diagrams organise thought. But none of these activities explain the emergence of meaning. They operate within an already meaningful field. Representation works because intelligibility is already there to be exploited.

The deeper mistake lies in assuming that meaning is fundamentally a matter of aboutness. Once this assumption is in place, everything else follows: reference, correspondence, truth as mirroring, error as misalignment. But aboutness is not primitive. It is a phenomenological effect that arises under specific conditions — conditions that representation itself cannot account for.

When meaning is treated as representation, intelligibility is pushed outside the system and relocated in a presumed external reality. Meaning becomes a problem of alignment rather than emergence. The philosophical task becomes one of calibration rather than ontology. And yet the very possibility of calibration depends on prior distinctions that representation cannot generate.

What is required, then, is not a better theory of representation, but a shift in starting point.

Instead of beginning with symbols and objects, we begin with relation. Instead of asking how meanings point outward, we ask how intelligibility is articulated inwardly within a system. Instead of assuming determinate entities, we examine how stability itself arises through constraint, sedimentation, and successful articulation.

From this perspective, representation no longer disappears — but it moves. It becomes a secondary practice, a stabilised pattern within relational systems, not their ground. It is something to be explained, not something that does the explaining.

This series will develop that shift systematically. We will see that relation is ontologically prior to reference; that meaning is not fundamentally about anything; that objects emerge as stabilised relational effects; and that the persistence of representational thinking is itself a phenomenon in need of explanation.

For now, the first move is simply this:
representation is the wrong place to start.

Meaning does not begin by mirroring a world.
It begins with the articulation of intelligibility within structured potential.

Once that is seen, the representational problem quietly dissolves — not because it is solved, but because it is no longer the right problem to pose.

On Relation Without Representation: Introduction

In previous series, we explored how possibility becomes determinate (On Meaning as Possibility), how cuts articulate instances (The Cut That Makes Meaning), and how constraints structure intelligible variation (On Constraint as Generative). Together, they established a foundation: intelligibility is relational, not imposed; meaning arises where systems sustain structured potential; and freedom and novelty emerge under constraints.

This series takes the next conceptual step. It asks a question that is often overlooked, even when relational thinking is accepted:

What, if anything, is meaning about?

The common answer — representation — feels natural. Words, thoughts, and symbols appear to point to objects, mirror reality, or refer to states of affairs. Representation is assumed to be the foundation of meaning itself. But this assumption quietly imports what it purports to explain: objects, identities, and distinctions are treated as pre-given, and intelligibility is relocated outside the system that actually produces it.

On Relation Without Representation reframes the question. It shows that meaning does not need to be about anything. Objects, reference, and aboutness are derivative effects, arising from relational articulation, sedimentation, and constraint. Representation persists because it works, but it is secondary, not foundational. Meaning is generated within structured potential, not imposed from without.

Across six posts, the series develops this argument systematically:

  1. Why Representation Is the Wrong Starting Point — representation presupposes what it seeks to explain; intelligibility arises first.

  2. Relation Before Reference — relational articulation is ontologically prior; reference emerges downstream.

  3. Why Meaning Is Not About Anything — meaning is intelligibility, not correspondence; aboutness is derivative.

  4. Objects as Stabilised Relational Effects — objects are outcomes of relational patterns, maintained through repetition and constraint.

  5. The Persistence of the Representational Reflex — representation persists because it is effective; it is a derivative, sedimented habit.

  6. Meaning After Representation — a synthesis: meaning, freedom, novelty, and objects are fully intelligible in relational terms; representation is a tool, not the foundation.

This series is not a critique of representation, nor a dismissal of the world’s stability. It is a positive ontology: an account of how meaning, objects, and reference emerge from relational processes. Representation is explained, not discarded; freedom, constraint, and intelligibility are revealed as the true generative forces.

By the end, readers will see that meaning exists in the articulation of possibility itself, objects appear where relational patterns hold, and representation is a derivative, reliable, but secondary effect. This is meaning after representation, and it opens a clearer path toward understanding systems, cognition, and semiotic emergence on their own terms.

On Constraint as Generative: 6 Constraint, Freedom, and Meaning

Across the preceding posts, we have traced the generative role of constraints:

  • Constraints are not limits; they are enabling structures.

  • Systems are structured potentials in which constraints operate.

  • Constraints accumulate as sedimented patterns, carrying the relational traces of prior successful articulations.

  • They structure the space of intelligible variation without exhausting possibility.

  • They operate universally across domains, from language and music to perception and other semiotic systems.

The final question is unavoidable: what does this tell us about freedom and meaning?

Freedom Is Relational

Generative freedom is not the absence of constraints. To think of freedom as the absence of limitation is to misunderstand how intelligibility arises. Freedom is the capacity to articulate possibilities intelligibly under constraints. A musician improvises freely, a speaker expresses thought, a listener perceives a figure — and all of these freedoms exist because the system has structure. Without constraints, there would be freedom without coherence: ungrounded, chaotic, unintelligible. Constraints make freedom meaningful.

Constraint Enables Variation

Variation is intelligible precisely because it operates within relationally structured possibility. Each new instance is not imposed externally, nor is it random. It is guided by the generative patterns accumulated in the system. Constraints do not extinguish potential; they channel it. Freedom, variation, and intelligibility are inseparable. A system that supports generative constraints is a system in which novelty can emerge, yet remain coherent.

Meaning Emerges Relationally

Meaning is neither pre-existing nor imposed. It is the intelligibility that arises when a system, its constraints, and a cut intersect. Constraints structure the system, cuts articulate instances, and phenomena emerge intelligibly against backgrounded potentials. Meaning is the relational effect of these articulations. It is not a property of objects, nor a fixed structure behind appearances. Meaning exists because constraints make possibility intelligible and freedom generates novel articulations.

The Synthesis

The series shows that constraints, freedom, and meaning are mutually constitutive:

  • Constraint structures possibility.

  • Freedom articulates instances within that structured field.

  • Meaning emerges relationally as the intelligible intersection of cut, constraint, and instance.

There is no tension here, only complementarity. Constraints are not oppositional to freedom; they are the condition of freedom. Freedom is not oppositional to constraint; it is the actualisation of structured potential. Meaning is not imposed from without; it is produced relationally by the interplay of constraint, cut, and system.

Conclusion

Generative constraints are the scaffolding of intelligibility. They do not limit novelty; they make novelty comprehensible. Freedom is the capacity to articulate possibility within this scaffolding. Meaning is the phenomenon that appears when cuts operate under constraints within structured potential.

By recognising the relational interplay of constraint, freedom, and meaning, we arrive at a principle that unites structure and novelty, history and possibility, stability and variation: intelligible phenomena emerge only where constraints enable freedom, and freedom generates meaning.

This principle completes the logic of the series: constraints do not restrict; they generate; freedom is relational; and meaning is the effect of their interplay. With this understanding, we can explore further the evolution of systems, the dynamics of semiotic fields, and the unfolding of possibility itself.


Looking Ahead

As we have seen, constraints do not limit possibility; they generate it. Freedom unfolds within structure, and meaning emerges relationally from cuts operating under sedimented patterns. Yet even with these insights, a question quietly remains: what is meaning about? Objects, reference, and “aboutness” have long seemed essential to intelligibility — but must they be?

The next series, On Relation Without Representation, takes up this question directly. It shows that meaning does not need to point outward, that objects are stabilised relational effects rather than foundational entities, and that representation persists only as a derivative, sedimented practice. In other words, what we have learned about constraints, freedom, and relational cuts now allows us to see meaning after representation — where intelligibility is generated from within, and the world’s apparent stability is the achievement of relational systems themselves.

On Constraint as Generative: 5 Constraints Across Domains

In the previous post, we saw that constraints do not limit possibility; they enable intelligible variation. They structure the relational field in which novelty emerges, preserving coherence while allowing difference. The principle of generative constraint, however, is not confined to abstract systems. It operates across domains, from language to music, perception, and beyond.

Language

In linguistic systems, grammar and register function as constraints. They do not determine what a speaker must say; they define what can be said intelligibly within a given context. The same sentence can be expressed differently across dialects or styles, but intelligibility persists because the system’s relational patterns guide permissible articulations. Constraints in language are both enabling and historical: they carry the sediment of prior successful utterances while supporting new expressions.

Music

In music, tonal and rhythmic structures act as constraints. A key signature or meter does not fix the melody; it enables melodic coherence. A note outside the key may be surprising or even dissonant, but it is intelligible in relation to the tonal system. Variation in music emerges precisely because constraints shape the space of what is possible while leaving freedom for novel articulations. The listener perceives pattern and novelty simultaneously, because constraints make structure perceptible.

Perception

Even perception operates under constraints. Visual, auditory, and tactile systems organise input according to relational patterns, allowing coherent experience to emerge from raw sensory potential. A visual figure is intelligible only against a background; a melody is intelligible only against tonal expectation. Constraints structure what can be attended to, highlighted, and recognised, making phenomena intelligible without imposing them externally.

Meaning-Making in General

Across all semiotic systems, the logic is the same. Constraints are the scaffolding of intelligibility. They preserve the system as structured potential, guide the articulation of instances, and make variation possible without chaos. They are internal, relational, historical, and generative. The principle is universal: wherever intelligible phenomena appear, generative constraints are operative.

This cross-domain perspective also clarifies a common misunderstanding. Constraints are often conflated with control, imposition, or limitation. When viewed relationally, however, constraints are enabling conditions, not coercive rules. They allow phenomena to emerge coherently while leaving the system open for novelty. Generativity and constraint are inseparable: one is intelligible only in the presence of the other.

In the next post, we will bring these insights together, examining Constraint, Freedom, and Meaning. We will show how freedom is relational, variation is intelligible, and meaning emerges from the dynamic interplay of cut, constraint, and system. This synthesis will conclude the series while pointing to further explorations of structured potential and generative articulation.

On Constraint as Generative: 4 Constraints and Variation

In the previous post, we examined how constraints accumulate as sedimented patterns within the system, encoding the traces of prior successful articulations while preserving the generative potential of the system. These relational patterns structure intelligibility across instances without exhausting possibility.

The question now arises: how can novelty appear if constraints are operative? How can a system structured by relational patterns produce variation without collapsing into repetition or incoherence? The answer is that constraints do not limit; they enable variation.

Constraints shape the space of intelligible articulations rather than dictating outcomes. Each new instance is selected under the relational field of the system: some articulations are intelligible, others are not. The constraints do not determine which articulation must appear, only which articulations can appear. They define the horizon of intelligibility, ensuring that novelty is possible, coherent, and meaningful.

Consider language. Grammar does not fix what is said; it constrains what is possible within a given utterance. These constraints make meaning intelligible across contexts. They do not limit creativity; they shape it. Similarly, in music, tonal structures constrain which notes harmonise, yet they enable infinite melodies to emerge. Constraints create the conditions for variation rather than obstructing it.

Variation is intelligible because it is systemically relational. Each new articulation resonates with the patterns already sedimented in the system. It interacts with prior instances, foregrounding some potentials while backgrounding others. Novelty emerges relationally: it is intelligible only because the system has a structure that can support it. Without constraints, there would be freedom, but no intelligibility; every articulation would float in a void. Constraints, paradoxically, enable the very freedom that they appear to delimit.

This relational understanding also clarifies the distinction between chance and generativity. Variation is not arbitrary. Random outcomes are not intelligible because they do not resonate with the system’s relational structure. Generative variation, by contrast, is always intelligible: it occurs within the space shaped by sedimented constraints. Each new instance is both novel and coherent, new yet recognisably structured.

To summarise:

  • Constraints define the space of intelligible possibility, not its limits.

  • Novel instances appear as variations within this space, always intelligible against prior sedimentation.

  • Freedom is relational, not absolute; novelty is generative, not chaotic.

  • The system produces intelligible variation because constraints enable the articulation of possibility.

The next post will extend this insight beyond abstract systems, showing how constraints operate across domains — in language, music, perception, and other semiotic systems — demonstrating that generative constraint is a universal principle of intelligibility.

On Constraint as Generative: 3 Sedimentation and Possibility

In the previous post, we established that the system is structured potential: a relational field of possibilities in which cuts can articulate intelligible phenomena. We also saw that constraints are intrinsic to the system, not external limits, and that they make novelty possible rather than restrict it.

The next step is to consider how constraints themselves arise and persist. Constraints are not eternal forms floating above possibility; they emerge from the history of successful articulations and accumulate as sedimented patterns within the system. This accumulation is what makes the system intelligible over time and allows new instances to appear coherently.

When an instance is actualised under a cut, certain articulations succeed in foregrounding intelligible patterns. These successful articulations leave traces within the system: relational patterns that constrain future articulations in generative ways. These traces are not rules imposed externally, nor are they causal forces. They are relational potentials that structure what is intelligible for subsequent instances. In this sense, constraint is historically sedimented potential, not external law.

Sedimentation ensures continuity and coherence across instances. Without it, every cut would operate in a vacuum, and intelligibility would be fragile. By carrying the memory of prior successful articulations, the system supports future cuts, allowing new phenomena to appear intelligibly while remaining open to variation. The history of the system does not determine any particular instance; it only shapes the space in which intelligible articulations can emerge.

This perspective also clarifies the generativity of constraints. Constraints do not reduce possibility; they structure it. The system accumulates patterns without exhausting potential. Novelty emerges not in spite of constraints, but because constraints form the relational field that makes new instances intelligible. Each articulation contributes to the sedimentation, enriching the system and expanding the landscape of future possibilities.

Constraints, in this sense, are simultaneously historical and generative. They encode the past while enabling the future. They are relational traces that shape intelligibility, rather than prohibitions that limit freedom. The system becomes more robust, more intelligible, and more generative precisely because it carries the sediment of prior successful cuts.

To summarise:

  • Each instance foregrounded under a cut leaves relational patterns within the system.

  • These patterns accumulate as sedimented constraints, structuring future possibilities.

  • Constraints do not fix outcomes; they enable intelligibility and generativity.

  • The history of the system is present in its relational structure, not as deterministic rules but as fertile ground for new articulations.

The next post will examine how generative constraints enable variation: how the same system can produce intelligible novelty across multiple instantiations without collapse or incoherence. Understanding sedimentation sets the stage for exploring the dynamic tension between stability and innovation within structured potential.

On Constraint as Generative: 2 The System as Structured Potential

In the previous post, we saw that constraints are generative: they are not limits imposed from outside, but the structures that make possibility intelligible. To understand this fully, we must examine the system itself — the structured field in which constraints operate and under which instances emerge.

A system is not a thing, nor a collection of objects. It is not an entity with parts arranged in space or time. Rather, a system is structured potential: a relational field of possibilities, each available for articulation under a cut. The system contains the conditions that make some articulations intelligible, while others are excluded. It is the medium in which constraints operate, the landscape of possibility that makes phenomena appear as determinate.

Constraints are internal to the system. They are not added from outside. A system’s structure is the record of prior articulations and relational potentials. It guides what can be foregrounded under a cut without determining which particular instance must appear. One can think of the system as a map of relational potentials, where constraints are the terrain that allows intelligible paths to be traced. Without these internal structures, possibility would be ungrounded; no cuts could produce coherent phenomena.

Because the system is structured, multiple cuts can articulate different instances without exhausting the system. The relational patterns that make one instance intelligible are the same patterns that enable other instances. Constraint, in this sense, is recurrent and distributive: it shapes the field of possibility without closing it. The system remains open, generative, and relationally coherent.

This perspective also clarifies a common misunderstanding about novelty. Some might assume that constraints restrict creativity, that generativity is opposed to structure. In a system understood as structured potential, this opposition disappears. The constraints are what make novelty intelligible. A new instance is meaningful only because it respects, interacts with, and emerges from the system’s internal structure. Novelty is possible precisely because constraints shape the space of intelligible variation.

Finally, the system-as-structured-potential bridges the cut and constraint. A cut articulates one instance from the system; the system’s internal constraints ensure that this instance is intelligible among others. Constraints do not force the selection; they enable it. Cuts actualise one possibility, and the system ensures that this actualisation forms a coherent phenomenon rather than a chaotic emergence.

In short:

  • The system is a field of potential.

  • Constraints are intrinsic patterns within the system.

  • Cuts articulate instances intelligibly within the system.

  • Possibility is generative because it is structured.

Understanding the system in this way sets the stage for the next post, which will examine how constraints accrue as sedimented patterns over time, shaping future possibilities without exhausting them. This will show that constraints are simultaneously historical and generative, structuring the evolution of meaning across instantiations.

On Constraint as Generative: 1 Why Constraints Are Not Limits

In the preceding series, The Cut That Makes Meaning, we traced how meaning emerges from possibility through the perspectival articulation called the cut. We saw that instantiation foregrounds one articulation while backgrounding others, and that phenomena appear intelligibly only because exclusion is generative rather than destructive.

If cuts make meaning possible, constraints make cuts intelligible. Yet constraints are often misunderstood. They are frequently cast as obstacles, limits imposed from outside, or mechanisms that reduce freedom. This is a conceptual error. Constraints are not limits; they are the structural conditions under which possibility becomes generative.

Consider a musical scale. The notes available in a given key do not restrict the musician; they enable musical coherence. Within the scale, infinite melodies remain possible. The “limits” of the scale are precisely what make variation meaningful. Without the constraints, there is no intelligible form; there is only undifferentiated sound. Constraint, in this sense, does not reduce freedom—it enables it.

Constraints are always relational and internal. They are not imposed by an external agent or by some abstract law. Rather, they emerge from the structure of the system itself, from the relations that make articulations intelligible. In a linguistic system, for example, grammar does not exist to restrict speakers; it is the medium through which meaning can be made and understood. Constraints are what sustain the intelligibility of cuts and instances.

Generative constraints also explain the persistence of intelligible forms. When one articulation succeeds in foregrounding a system under a cut, it leaves a trace: a pattern that can guide future instantiations. This is not causality in the temporal sense, but a sedimentation of relational potential. Constraints are both conditions for intelligibility and records of prior successful articulations. They carry the history of the system without fixing any single instance as necessary.

It is important to emphasise that constraints do not determine outcomes. Possibility remains open within them. A system structured by constraints is not exhausted; it is enabled. The difference between a constraint and a restriction is precisely that one shapes the field of possible intelligible instances, while the other imposes an arbitrary limit. Constraint is generative; restriction is coercive.

Seen in this light, freedom and limitation are not opposites. Freedom is the ability to articulate possibilities; constraint is what makes those articulations intelligible. No cut can appear without constraints, and no instance can emerge without the generative scaffolding that guides foregrounding and exclusion. The cut and constraint are inseparable: the cut actualises one possibility, and constraint ensures that this possibility can appear intelligibly among others.

This post establishes a fundamental shift in perspective: constraints are not boundaries on possibility—they are the structures that allow possibility to be realised intelligibly. The following posts will explore how constraints arise within systems, how they accumulate as sedimented patterns, and how they enable variation without collapsing the richness of the system.

The generativity of constraints is the medium through which meaning continues to emerge. Without constraints, cuts would float in an undifferentiated field, and phenomena would lose coherence. With constraints, possibility is shaped, articulated, and made fertile.

On Constraint as Generative: Introduction

In the previous series, The Cut That Makes Meaning, we examined how possibility becomes determinate: how cuts articulate instances, foreground some potentials, background others, and produce intelligible phenomena. We saw that instantiation, exclusion, and phenomena are relational, perspectival, and irreducibly structured.

This series, On Constraint as Generative, continues the exploration by asking a deeper question: what enables cuts themselves to produce intelligible instances? What structures make possibility coherent, novelty intelligible, and variation generative? The answer lies in constraints.

Constraints are often misunderstood as limits, restrictions, or boundaries imposed from outside. This series reframes them: constraints are enabling, relational, historical, and generative. They do not restrict possibility; they structure it, shape it, and make novelty intelligible. Without constraints, cuts would float ungrounded, and phenomena would lose coherence. With constraints, possibility becomes a fertile field in which intelligible variation can emerge.

Across six posts, the series develops this argument systematically:

  1. Why Constraints Are Not Limits — establishing that constraints enable rather than restrict intelligible possibility.

  2. The System as Structured Potential — showing that constraints are intrinsic to the relational structure of the system.

  3. Sedimentation and Possibility — explaining how constraints accrue as sedimented patterns from prior successful articulations.

  4. Constraints and Variation — demonstrating how constraints generate novelty and intelligible difference.

  5. Constraints Across Domains — tracing the principle of generative constraint through language, music, perception, and other semiotic systems.

  6. Constraint, Freedom, and Meaning — synthesising the argument: freedom is relational, novelty is intelligible, and meaning emerges from the interplay of cut, constraint, and structured potential.

Together, these posts show that constraints are not obstacles to possibility—they are the conditions that make possibility intelligible and generative. Freedom, variation, and meaning are relational effects of constraints operating within structured potential.

This series positions constraints as central to the logic of intelligible phenomena, preparing the ground for further exploration of how structured systems evolve, how semiotic fields unfold, and how the dynamic interplay of cut, constraint, and possibility produces the richness of meaning.

The Cut That Makes Meaning: 6 Why the Cut Cannot Be Removed

In the previous posts, we have traced a precise trajectory:

  • Meaning begins as possibility (Post 1).

  • Possibility requires articulation through a cut to become intelligible (Post 2).

  • Instantiation is the system seen under a perspectival cut (Post 3).

  • Foregrounding one articulation necessarily backgrounds others, yet exclusion is not loss (Post 4).

  • What appears under a cut is a phenomenon, not an object (Post 5).

We now arrive at a critical juncture: can the cut be removed? Could meaning exist without it? Could phenomena be experienced without exclusion?

The answer, for reasons already implicit, is: no.

To attempt to remove the cut is to imagine a phenomenon that appears without distinction, a determinate meaning that does not foreground one articulation against others, a perception that is simultaneously everything and nothing. Such a world is unintelligible. There is no form, no texture, no first-order meaning. Possibility without a cut is the absence of appearance. Attempting to deny the cut is already an exercise performed under a cut—it cannot be escaped.

The cut is unavoidable because it is the condition of intelligibility itself. Every phenomenon presupposes distinction; every instance is the system under a perspective; every foregrounding presupposes backgrounding. No matter how one might wish to imagine a seamless or “unbroken” world, the intelligibility of that world depends on the cut being operative.

This has two important consequences:

  1. The cut is neither imposed nor optional.
    It is not an act, event, or decision. It is a condition that cannot be suspended without rendering experience impossible. To ask whether the cut “should” exist is to misunderstand the nature of meaning itself. The cut is not contingent; it is ontologically necessary.

  2. Exclusion is generative, not destructive.
    Because every instance foregrounds one articulation, the cut necessarily backgrounds others. This is not a loss, a negation, or a deficiency. The unrealised possibilities persist as structured potential, giving coherence, texture, and depth to the phenomenon that appears. The cut is the mechanism through which meaning can appear at all, without destroying the richness of what remains unactualised.

Viewed in this way, the cut is not a limitation, but a structural enabling. Meaning arises because possibility is cut; phenomena appear because the system is articulated; exclusion sustains intelligibility. Without the cut, nothing could appear as meaningful.

To resist the cut is conceptually incoherent. To attempt to bypass it is to operate under a cut without acknowledging it. The very attempt demonstrates the unavoidable nature of the cut: it is inescapable, fundamental, and constitutive.

In closing, the series makes the following argument explicit:

  • Possibility alone does not yield phenomena.

  • Determinacy requires articulation.

  • Articulation is a perspectival cut.

  • Foregrounding entails exclusion, which is not loss.

  • Phenomena are first-order meanings, not objects.

  • Therefore, the cut cannot be removed; meaning itself depends on it.

The cut is the structural condition of all intelligibility. It is not a feature that can be chosen, suspended, or ignored. It is the ground on which meaning is possible, the lens through which phenomena appear, and the frame without which the system of possibilities cannot articulate itself.

With this, the logic of the cut is complete. Future explorations can now take this principle as foundational: from anti-representational accounts to the articulation of constraints, from the structure of systems to the evolution of possibilities, the cut remains the irreducible condition under which all phenomena appear intelligibly.

Meaning, in short, cannot exist without the cut.

The Cut That Makes Meaning: 5 Phenomena, Not Objects

In the previous post, we saw that exclusion is not loss: each instance foregrounds one articulation of a system, leaving other possibilities unrealised but intact. Foregrounding and backgrounding are not moral acts, nor are they destructive. They are the structural conditions under which intelligibility arises.

This insight sets the stage for a deeper clarification: if instantiation is perspectival and exclusion is generative, then the reality we encounter is phenomenal, not objectual.

Much of our thinking about the world relies on the assumption that phenomena are underlain by objects: that what is experienced is a mask for some deeper, enduring thing. The “thing-in-itself” becomes the guarantor of appearance; meaning, we are told, refers to reality behind the veil. But this assumption is incompatible with the logic of the cut.

A phenomenon is a first-order meaning, not a hidden entity waiting to be discovered. It does not emerge from a pre-existing object; it is made intelligible by the cut. To perceive a melody, to read a word, to experience a sensation, is not to apprehend an object. It is to encounter a determinate configuration of possibility under a cut.

Objects, when they appear in discourse or thought, are metaphenomena: second-order constructions that abstract from phenomena. They are not primary. What we call an “object” is a regularity inferred across multiple instances, a pattern imposed retrospectively on experience. The cut, the instantiation, and the foregrounded phenomenon are prior.

This is why no phenomenon exists unconstrued. There is no world of raw data, no uninterpreted “thing” behind perception, no pure signal waiting for interpretation. Phenomena are always already intelligible configurations; they are already the result of distinction. The world-as-thing is a convenient fiction, not an ontological given.

Seeing the world as phenomenal rather than objectual has profound consequences:

  1. Meaning is immediate, not representational.
    Phenomena are not about something else; they are what appears under a cut. The sense of “aboutness” emerges only in higher-order reflection, not in first-order experience.

  2. The seeming solidity of objects is perspectival.
    An object appears stable because multiple cuts across time and space consistently foreground similar articulations of the system. Stability is an effect of repeated instantiation, not a property of an underlying entity.

  3. Intelligibility depends on relational structure, not substance.
    A phenomenon is coherent because it emerges from the relations of a system, not because it corresponds to a thing. The cut articulates structure, not substance.

  4. Phenomena carry their own exclusions.
    Every phenomenon appears against the unrealised possibilities of the system. Objects obscure this relational architecture; phenomena illuminate it.

By clarifying that the world we experience is phenomenal, not objectual, we remove a common source of metaphysical confusion. We no longer need to ask how the world “really is” behind appearances. The world as experienced is intelligible only through the cuts that articulate it. There is no deeper layer to reveal, only further distinctions to make.

This understanding also prepares us for the final post of this sequence. If phenomena are first-order meanings, and if the cut is the condition of their intelligibility, then attempts to deny the cut, or to imagine a world without exclusion, are conceptually incoherent. Meaning is never optional; it is never separable from articulation. The last post will make this unavoidable principle explicit.

For now, the central claim is clear:
We do not encounter objects; we encounter phenomena. And phenomena are first-order meanings articulated by the cut.