"Life is life."

When I say something like that, basically no one can do anything specific with it, or everyone can do all sorts of things with it.

This way of thinking about expression (terminology) can be described as philosophical.

A philosopher wants one thing first and foremost: he wants to get as precise a definition of a term as possible.

Philosophy is the tool for lifting the concrete into the abstract and bringing the abstract back into the concrete.

A non-philosopher either wants to dwell on the one or the other, one could say that he either refuses to consider this back and forth as useful or that he is ignorant of it but does not know this, ergo, does not know that he does not know.

The introduction to a scientific paper always begins with the heading ‘Abstract’.

This inevitably means that something concrete has been placed in an abstract intellectual space.
But if you make something that is already abstract the subject of an investigation, is the heading still correct?

An idea, for example. Any idea. For example, the idea is: ‘’Words kill‘’. Then this is already an abstract.

The impossibility of turning an abstract (idea) into something concrete

that can be investigated like a concrete object is what makes people grit their teeth.
Even the sentence ‘An abstract idea’ is in and of itself a double entendre.

An idea (verbalised or written down) is first and foremost a sentence.

Or an utterance. This sentence/utterance has no material property. Therefore, the sentence cannot be analysed materially, as it has no physical property. A sentence can be analysed linguistically.

• The analysis of sentence structure is grammar.
• The analysis of content is semantics.

If you were to analyse the case materially,

the following would happen: You look at the piece of paper on which the sentence is written. You examine the ink with which the sentence was embossed on the paper. You examine the components of the ink parts and the components of the paper parts and so on.

You would not find a single substantive statement of the idea of ‘’words kill‘’ in it. All you would find would be material properties of ink and paper.

If you're a big joker, you could prick your finger and write ‘ WORDS KILL!!!’

in your blood on a new sheet of paper and then set the whole thing on fire to prove to yourself that you've just killed the words, instead.

If you want to scare your little brother, you could go into his room with the piece of paper written in your blood and hold it right under his nose to scare him.

It is one thing when I, here and now, examine something concrete. It is something else when I later write about the fact that I analysed a concrete thing. Which reaches a reader in non real time (second hand).

Here is a concrete statement: ‘Water is wet’.

Here is an abstract statement: "Water is sacred."

The philosopher asks:
"As which person are you making this statement?" The person asked can answer.

A chemist, for example, would say that both statements are imprecise, he would perhaps say:
‘Water is liquid as long as it is not in a different state of aggregation.’

A fisherman might say: ‘The fish don't care.'

The philosopher asks the chemist: ‘Is it true that the water you brush your teeth with is wet?’
The chemist must answer ‘yes’.

Note, that the role of the philosopher is always asking questions.

But also note, that a human being changes roles ever so often.

Being asked himself, the philosopher might say, "the object of investigation ‘water’ happens concretely, as it is a concrete object. You shall not describe ‘water’ as an ‘idea’ if it is analysed in its physical existence."

The questioner might ask: "What about the abstract quality of water?"
Answer: "Yes, this can be talked about, too. But it shall be tagged as abstract talk."

The sophist came along two sentences ago, and said: "Water is indeed an idea."

He is right, of course, from the philosophers point of view, and the philosopher might answer: "True, but did you not forget to say that this is an abstract statement about ‘water’?'
The sophist answers: 'Yes. But is this not obvious?'
The philosopher: Yes. Is it true, that people understand you immediately, when you say that water is wet?
Answer: 'Yes'.
Question: 'Is it true that you'd have to explain what you mean by 'water is an idea?'
Answer: 'Yes'.
Question: 'In what context would your sentence become relevant, then?'
Answer: 'When water is said to be as "only life saving", for example.'
Question: 'Where does it take life?'
Answer: ' ...

Note, that this form of question and answer did not introduce aggravation or agitation of those talking to each other.

One conclusion about philosophy

is not to define the term 'philosophy itself, but to acknowledge the very act of questioning and answering as one of the best tools of it to be in dialogue. The quality of a dialogue can be measured by those involved when they, after such dialogue or in the midst of it, gained an insight.

To aggravate a debate, you can introduce an aggravator and make this dialogue into a fight of who is wrong or right.
It can then happen, as it often does, by creating agitation, that no such insight is gained, rather frustration added. The goal of a philosophical question and answer session is to come out refreshed.

You may think, that I already answered my headline question. But did I?

Did I semantically investigate it?
What dialogue would you create for that matter?
I have something in mind and will place it in the comment section later in the week.

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Picture source: my own creation.