Why Philosophy is Supposed to Sadden: Deleuze and the Philosophy of Perpetual Change
In Chapter 9 (“ninth series”) of Logic of Sense, Gilles Deleuze explores the nature of events, singularities, and the relationship between problems and solutions. He delves into how singularities are central to understanding events, viewing them as points of transformation that define a particular trajectory or condition. This chapter also emphasizes the distinction between the event, which is ideal and conceptual, and its physical realization in a state of affairs. For Deleuze, events are not reducible to ordinary occurrences; they are fundamentally tied to the realm of the ideal, residing beyond empirical reality.
Deleuze introduces the concept of singularities as critical points that characterize various phenomena: “What is an ideal event? It is a singularity — or rather a set of singularities or of singular points characterizing a mathematical curve, a physical state of affairs, a psychological and moral person.”¹ He lists examples such as “turning points and points of inflection; bottlenecks, knots, foyers, and centers; points of freezing, condensation, and boiling,”² framing these as moments where change or transformation occurs. Singularities, in this sense, are not merely individual occurrences; they belong to a dimension that is “pre-individual, non-personal, and a-conceptual.”³
Deleuze stresses that these singularities cannot be mistaken for the concrete states of affairs they influence. Instead, they are part of an ideal field that shapes the conditions under which events manifest. He writes, “The singularity belongs to another dimension than that of denotation, manifestation, or signification.”⁴ Events and singularities operate within a space of problems, which, for Deleuze, is inherently dynamic and productive. This dimension is indifferent to the particularities of individuals (manifestation), concepts (signification), or the particular objects (denotation) they shape.
He distinguishes between the “event,” which is ideal, and its spatio-temporal realization, calling this distinction one between “event and accident.” The event itself is an ideal series of singularities, whereas its manifestation is a specific instance in the physical world. He writes: “Events are ideal singularities which communicate in one and the same Event.”⁵ Thus, events are continuous processes that have a reality beyond their physical instances; they “subsist and insist” within a conceptual space that is not bound by the empirical world.
Deleuze links the concept of the problematic to events, asserting that events are inherently tied to problems: “The mode of the event is the problematic.”⁶ Problems for Deleuze are not obstacles to be resolved but are rather generative fields that determine the conditions for solutions. He emphasizes that problems are defined by singularities: “A problem is determined only by the singular points which express its conditions.”⁷ In contrast, solutions are the outcomes that emerge within the field of these singularities. The solution is “determined as a function” of the problem, implying a relationship where the problem sets the terms of what counts as a resolution.
Furthermore, Deleuze describes the relationship between problems and solutions as one of tension and transformation. Problems define the “conditions” for their solutions, yet these solutions do not dissolve the problematic nature entirely; rather, they mark moments within an ongoing series of transformations. He insists that “the instance-problem and the instance-solution differ in nature,” highlighting how the generative force of a problem persists even as solutions arise.
With Deleuze’s framework in mind, we can explore the analogy between questions and movement, and answers and fixed states. Just as Deleuze views problems as productive fields, questions can be seen as openings that introduce new possibilities and unsettle existing understandings. Questions, much like Deleuze’s notion of problems, are “determined by singular points,” each pointing to a potential shift or transformation in thinking. They embody a kind of “aleatory point” that disturbs static knowledge and prompts movement toward new forms of understanding. Questions are dynamic; they open up possibilities, initiate exploration, and propel thought. Each question unsettles an existing understanding or status quo, much like movement disrupts a static position.
For example, when Deleuze discusses how singularities form “points of inflection” or “bottlenecks,” these can be likened to the way a question causes a shift in thought, redirecting the flow of ideas. A question is a turning point — it asks something that forces a reconfiguration of what is already known. Like singularities, questions introduce conditions for change, making them dynamic and open-ended.
In contrast, answers correspond to Deleuze’s concept of solutions as they relate to a fixed state of affairs. When a question finds an answer, the sense of movement halts, crystallizing into a particular interpretation or resolution. The solution ‘freezes’ the question into a particular form, even if temporarily, curbing the open-ended nature of inquiry.
Philosophy, at its core, should be about asking good questions, not providing definitive answers. Rather than delivering settled conclusions, philosophy’s task is to generate and refine questions that open up new fields of thought. A true paradigm shift in philosophy is not achieved by giving answers to the questions of previous generations but by fundamentally reframing those questions, making us recognize that some of our old inquiries were misguided from the very beginning. These paradigm shifts in thought reveal that many of our previous questions were, in fact, nonsensical in their initial framing, lacking the structure necessary even to allow for proper answers.
For Deleuze, philosophy is not about reaching fixed truths but about unfolding the movement of sense. In Logic of Sense, he proposes that sense is not something that exists in a stable or objective way; rather, it “insists or subsists” in a proposition as an event that happens in the act of stating. Sense is a dynamic, living process that transcends the fixed meaning or interpretation of any proposition. While meaning in a traditional linguistic sense is a static relationship between a signifier (a word) and a signified (the concept it represents), sense is inherently problematic and paradoxical. It consists of two converging series that intersect at a “point of inflection,” a point where differences are synthesized but without collapsing into a singular, unifying answer. This convergence forms what Deleuze calls a “disjunctive synthesis,” where opposites coexist not in reconciliation but in a sustained state of tension, each element defined in its relationship to the other.
Through this lens, philosophy becomes an exploration of the open-ended, shifting space of sense rather than a pursuit of closed, finalized meanings. Sense as an event defies reduction to any single interpretation or answer; it is fluid and contingent, constantly evolving with each new formulation. This perspective reveals that philosophy’s true task is not to resolve problems once and for all but to continue generating questions that expand the boundaries of thought.
As Deleuze implies, asking new questions that ‘rob our old questions of sense’ is the hallmark of true philosophical innovation. Each fresh question disrupts the settled meanings of previous ones, forcing a retroactive reinterpretation of past inquiries and revealing their inadequacies or absurdities. This process of questioning dismantles the sense of earlier problems and reframes them as nonsensical within the new context. The philosopher’s task is thus to create new problems that redefine the conditions of sense-making, making us see our past questions as limited or irrelevant, and thereby pushing thought toward ever-new horizons.
In this view, philosophy is a constant, dynamic search for new problems rather than a static archive of solved questions. Every answer, in effect, is provisional, subject to the next question that will dissolve its sense and reframe it as insufficient or misguided. Philosophy’s role is to “insist” on questioning, allowing sense to persist as an event, never fixed, never settled. In asking questions that force us to rethink our old ones as nonsense, philosophy maintains its role as an ever-moving process, a field of inquiry where answers, far from being endpoints, serve merely as markers in the continuous unfolding of sense.
For this reason, philosophy should be counter-intuitive. Nikk Effingham, in his book “An Introduction to Ontology”, argues that the ‘intuitiveness’ of a philosophical system is its strength: that the more a philosophical or ontological system appeals to our ‘common sense’, the better it is, and the more counter-intuitive or nonsensical it seems at first glance, the worse it is. I want to argue against this position. His view stems from a view of reality as static and unchanging. But if we view becoming instead of being as the primary foundation of reality, then we learn to value change and motion above static being. For this reason, philosophy’s task is an intellectually violent pursuit: philosophy is supposed to provoke, to “shake things up”, to change our ideas and ultimately, to change the reader as a person. A philosophy that appeals to our intuitions is simply re-stating what we already knew. Philosophy is supposed to put our minds in motion, to make us re-think our base assumptions, to destroy and re-create in place. For this reason, good philosophy is rather marked by counter-intuitiveness rather than intuitiveness. The more counter-intuitive and nonsensical a philosophical system seems at first glance, the higher the likelihood that it is a good system, because it violently forces us to think differently. Or, like Deleuze glamorously put it in his book “Nietzsche and Philosophy”:
“When someone asks “what’s the use of philosophy?” the reply must be aggressive, since the question tries to be ironic and caustic. Philosophy does not serve the State or the Church, who have other concerns. It serves no established power. The use of philosophy is to sadden. A philosophy that saddens no one, that annoys no one, is not a philosophy.”⁸
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REFERENCES:
1: Gilles Deleuze, “The Logic of Sense”, Chapter 9: “Ninth Series of The Problematic”
2: ibid.
3: ibid.
4: ibid.
5: ibid.
6: ibid.
7: ibid.
8: Gilles Deleuze, “Nietzsche and Philosophy”, p. 106
