Transcript Reading: Kant Part 4

When we last met, we were talking about Kant's theory of knowledge and how he responds to Hume. I want to continue that discussion because it's getting into the thick of things and becoming more interesting. One of the points Kant makes—and this is to his credit—is that we experience space and time, but space and time are not perceptions in the typical sense of an impression. For Kant, a sense impression means colors, tastes, touches, smells, and sounds, and space and time don’t have any of those properties. So, for Hume, this presents a huge problem that he can’t solve: how do things become spatial and temporal?

Hume, in his works, explains this by saying that time is an idea that arises from something like three notes played in succession on the flute. You hear one note, then another, and then the next, and that's what gives you the idea of time. But that doesn’t work, even according to his own definitions and theory. According to Hume’s theory, the only things in our minds are colors, tastes, touches, smells, and sounds, and succession doesn’t have any of those properties. The succession of three notes isn’t yellow, rough, cold, or orange-flavored—it doesn’t have any of the perceptual or sensory qualities Hume says everything must have to be in the mind as an impression. And since the only ideas we have are copies of impressions, succession can’t be a copy of any impression.

The same goes for spatial arrangement. We experience things as being in front of, behind, to the left of, or above something else, but these spatial relations don’t have color, taste, touch, or sound. If you were foolish enough to try to hit "left" or "right," you wouldn’t find any sensory qualities there. These ideas don’t fit into Hume’s theory, and Kant, to his credit, rejects this. It's not true that there’s nothing in the mind unless it comes from the senses.

Not at all. Start with space and time. They are certainly the way our experiences are organized; they are modes of organization. They represent ways of putting things together, such as arranging properties into a certain shape or maintaining an object’s existence over a period of time. We can talk about "before we made it" and "after we burned it in the fire," but "before" and "after" don’t have any color, taste, or smell. These concepts aren’t sensory. So Kant allows for all of that, and he says a clue to understanding this is in the kinds of judgments we make when we talk about things—judgments here meaning statements.

As I mentioned before, there are many kinds of sentences, not all of which assert something as true or false, but that's what characterizes a statement. A statement asserts that something is the case, making it either true or false, or sometimes partly true and partly false. That counts too, of course. So, here are the types of judgments Kant notices we make.

The first category is quantity. We make statements about quantity that are universal, such as "All P is Q" (e.g., "All crows are black"). Then there are particular statements, like "This crow is black." Finally, there are singular statements, which are about an individual, like "George needs Aria."

Next, we have quality judgments, which assert certain qualities. Kant means the quality of the judgment itself. A judgment can be affirmative ("Yes, that's true"), negative ("No, it’s not"), or infinite (a strange contrast that I don’t fully grasp).

The next category is relation: categorical, hypothetical, and disjunctive statements. These are types of logical statements. A categorical proposition simply asserts, "P is Q." A hypothetical statement says, "If P, then Q." Disjunctive statements are of the form "P or Q." The symbol for "or" in logic can be written as "P or Q," and in logic, this "or" can be weak or strong. In the weak sense, "P or Q" could mean both, but in the strong sense, it means one but not both. In logic, the strong version would be written as "P or Q, but not both."

Finally, we come to modality. In Aristotelian logic, statements can be problematic, assertoric, or apodictic. Now, these aren't words we use every day. Problematic means something that’s possibly true, but we don’t know for sure. An assertoric statement asserts that something is the case, and it is the case. It’s assertoric if it's true. Apodictic, a term we rarely use anymore, means something that is certain—true beyond a doubt.

What Kant wants to say about these categories is that they show that each type of statement is possible because a corresponding kind of concept makes it possible. In Kant's words, "All knowledge demands a concept, though that concept may be quite imperfect or obscure. A concept is always, in regard to its form, something universal that serves as a rule."

When we think of concepts in ordinary speech, we usually mean that we abstract certain properties from something, enough to identify or use it. For example, I have a concept of my travel case, the one I pack my clothes in when I travel. To distinguish it from other cases, I attach a tag with my name on it. That’s one property that no other bag will have unless someone goes out of their way to trick me. But before that, I picked it out based on other properties. Mine is made of green, rough cloth, so I don’t look at the red, black, or yellow bags coming down the baggage chute; I look for the green ones.

What we do with a concept is combine the properties of the object into a "thought unity." That’s what a concept does. But concepts of individual things are always incomplete. For example, if someone tries to trick me by putting a case on the airport belt that looks just like mine—same material, same color, and even a tag with my name—I might pick it up, thinking it’s mine, and walk away with it. It wouldn’t be my case because my concept of it didn’t include every possible property, like what's inside the case. If my concept were complete, it would include the contents of the case, because that’s also a property. My case doesn’t contain gold bars or drugs, but if someone put something like that inside, I would be tricked because I wasn’t considering the contents when forming my concept of the case. But if someone has put stolen goods in my case to get them through somehow (I don't know how that would help them), then I would have a case that looks just like mine from the outside because my concept didn’t include what’s inside. However, I do know what I put in my case, so when I open it and find a gold bar or heroin, I would immediately realize that someone is playing a trick, trying to sneak something through using my case.

A complete concept of an individual would include every property it has and everything it relates to, including relational properties. So, our concepts of individuals are always partial, but our concepts of classes of things are generally complete. For instance, if someone says, "All crows are black," and it’s true that there are no albino crows, then that statement is true. If we can show a genetic reason why crows can’t be any other color, we would know it’s true. We can form a class concept that includes all the properties that are true of that class of thing, and only those properties.

Now, sorry for my hesitation, but it’s all okay as long as I can distinguish trees, suitcases, cars, or crows by forming a concept of the class they belong to. That can be a complete concept because I include all the properties that make the thing what it is. So, all crows have this particular property, and only crows have that property. But it has to be more than just "black," right? We need all the defining characteristics of a bird, and then we can add black, along with other characteristics, to distinguish it from other black birds or birds with other names that are also black.

Now, Kant wants to talk about types of concepts. What I just read to you, and why I went off on that sidetrack about how we form concepts, is because Kant says a concept always serves as a rule. Now, this is a really daring hypothesis. What Kant is trying to tell us is that we have rules in our minds for what counts as "this," "that," or "the other." Our minds have already organized all this sensory data—colors, tastes, touches, smells, and sounds—spatially and temporally, so that, for example, we experience a vase with a flower in it. I’ll stick with that example. We experience the vase, abstract its properties, and put them together. That’s how we know it’s a vase, because that’s how we form the concept of a vase. We put into that concept the properties that a vase has—all the necessary and sufficient properties for something to be a vase.

But Kant says, before we even form that concept, our minds have already unconsciously imposed order on the sensory data—sights, smells, sounds, space, and time. The concept isn’t just something we form by abstracting from what we see; it’s a rule that transforms our sensory experience into that form. You see, Kant doesn’t deny that we experience vases and abstract their properties to identify and use them. We do that, but first, we unconsciously impose space and time and the form and shape of a vase onto the sensory data.

For example, you can put flowers into a vase. But if I show you something that looks like a vase and you look over the top only to find that it has a solid covering and you can’t put anything inside, it’s not a vase. So, Kant is adding to, not subtracting from, our understanding. He’s not doing what Hume did, where you think you know something, only for Hume to say, "Haha, you don’t!" That’s gone. You think you know this object? "Oh yeah? What sensory impression is it derived from?" Kant rejects this approach. He says, unconsciously, the mind is doing a lot of work that we’re unaware of. The first two things it does are imposing space and time. Next, it imposes concepts—or what become concepts—onto the sensory data.

After we experience something, we form a concept of it, but we’re forming a concept based on the structure our minds have already imposed. The concept of a vase, for example, is already imposed on the sensory data before we experience it as a vase. That’s a big job! So, there are types of concepts that correspond to the types of judgments we make. If we can make certain types of statements, it’s because those statements reflect how we organize what we know.

Under quantity, Kant says we have concepts for unifying things and for grasping a plurality of things. There are correspondences between types of concepts and types of judgments, and I’ll get you that list in a second. Kant’s point is that there are corresponding types of concepts for every type of judgment, and that’s what makes those judgments possible.

Sorry, Matt, I had some notes that fell on the floor, and I didn’t record myself picking them up. But I want to tell you about the kinds of concepts that correspond to these types of statements we’ve been discussing. And I want you to hear Kant in his own words about this: the concept, he says, is a type of rule.

Unity, plurality, and totality are examples of these rules. So, prior to our experience of anything, the concept is already a rule for organizing the sensory data—the "chaotic sensory manifold," as Kant calls it—into space and time. This rule imposes additional properties on the data, because it’s a rule or law for what counts as a vase, for example.

Listen to what Kant says: "Just as appearances don’t exist in themselves, but only relative to the subject, insofar as the subject has senses—sight, taste, touch, smell, and sound—so too, the laws do not exist in the appearances (the objects), but only relative to this same being, insofar as he has understanding of it."

So, a concept is two things. Kant is not denying that after we experience something, we can form a conscious concept of it, keep that concept in mind, and apply it. For example, if someone asks, "Would you please hand me the vase off the shelf?" I don’t go and grab a book instead. My experience organizes the sights, tastes, touches, smells, and sounds that are spatial and temporal to form an object—a vase, for instance. This organization happens unconsciously. In other words, the only thing we consciously experience is what our minds have already organized unconsciously, prior to or without our awareness. We are unaware of all this happening, and what actually comes to us is chaotic sensory data—just sights, sounds, and other sensations. That's how this system works.

I think there are some serious problems with this, and we’ll discuss them after I finish this list. What are the qualityconcepts? Kant believes they correspond to reality. We have concepts like negation (denying something), assertion (affirming something), and limitation. For instance, if I have a concept of something as real, I can also have a concept of its non-existence. If there’s no vase on the shelf, I can’t hand it to you. Or, if someone asks for all ten vases on the shelf, and there are only three, I would say, "Sorry, Charlie, there are only three." These are limitation concepts.

Next, there are relation concepts, which are really important. One type is inherence in a substance. Now, I would have thought Kant might get rid of the idea of substance, as I find it problematic, but he thinks that regarding things as adhering in other things and depending on them for their existence is obviously a concept we can have. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be able to make statements that correspond to it. Philosophers and ordinary people alike think about things this way in everyday life. For example, the walls of this room are brown, but "brown" isn’t a substance. It doesn’t exist on its own; it depends on the wood it colors. So, we’ll allow the concept of inherence in a substance, and there are other relational concepts as well.

For example, causality. Kant brings back the concept of cause and effect, which is crucial for science. Hume thought he got rid of it, asking, "Have you ever seen causality? What color is it? What sound does it make? Is it sweet or sour, hot or cold?" But Kant says, "Oh yes, we have ideas of many things that aren’t sensory impressions—things that aren’t sights, tastes, touches, smells, or sounds." We have ideas of these things because the mind is pre-programmed to organize experience in a way that imposes causality on certain relations—though not on all relations. There’s also reciprocity, which describes how two things can interact and affect one another. Neither one produces the other, but they influence each other.

So, Kant identifies three relational concepts: inherence, causality, and reciprocity. These allow science to regain its footing. Newton’s laws are no longer viewed as a collection of nonsensical statements, as Hume left them.

Finally, we come to modality, which deals with concepts like possibility, probability, and impossibility. These also include existence versus non-existence, and necessity versus contingency. Modality can be understood in several ways. For example, something can be logically necessary, physically necessary, or biologically necessary. You need certain things to live—these are biological necessities. On the other hand, contingent things don’t have to be a certain way. For instance, if a vase is blue, that’s interesting and true, but it’s not necessary. A vase doesn’t have to be blue; it’s just a contingent fact that it is blue.

Remember, Hume called these "matters of fact." Kant takes this further by showing how the mind contributes to organizing these elements, in addition to the raw sensory data of sights, tastes, touches, smells, and sounds. This is all part of his effort to establish what the mind can and cannot do, all with the goal of developing a theory of reality, if such a thing is even possible.

Some things are necessary, and some are contingent, and we already know that’s true in several senses. Things can be necessary quantitatively, logically, or physically. And as I mentioned, some things are biologically necessary—like needing air to live. Other things are contingent, meaning they don’t have to be the way they are. For example, the fact that a vase is blue doesn’t make it necessary for the vase to exist.

So, Kant builds this framework for us, packing all these elements into the mind, along with the basic sensory data it receives, like sights, tastes, touches, smells, and sounds. This combination of sensory input and mental organization is what produces the structured experience we perceive.

I have a lot of problems with quite a bit of this, and I want to pause and address them now rather than covering more material and making you try to remember things from further back. Let’s start with the arrangement we discussed earlier, where I compared the mind to a house and the chaotic sensory input as what gets "fed" into it. You might recall I have a real issue with this idea. Maybe you do too. If space exists only in the mind and is simply the way the mind organizes sensations, how can we talk about the chaotic sensory manifold being outside the mind and then coming in? That requires space, suggesting that there’s space outside the mind, as well as space within it. Isn’t that problematic? It seems we’re still thinking of the mind as a space distinct from another space, where what’s "inside" the mind is separate from what’s "outside." But that implies there’s an "inside" and "outside" to the mind, which doesn’t make sense, right?

This doesn’t make sense because space and time, according to Kant, are forms of sensory intuition that impose themselves on the chaotic sensory input and give it form—maybe a vase, for instance. But we’re using spatial language to describe this process, and space is supposed to exist only in relation to the objects that the mind organizes. Yet Kant still talks about things "inside" and "outside" the mind, which is confusing.

Then there's causality, one of the categories of understanding. Causality is imposed on the objects we experience, but how can we make sense of this unless the chaotic sensory data that’s given to us is the cause of the image we experience? Kant’s account seems to assume that the chaotic sense data comes from "outside" and causes the image in the mind, but he also says there is no "outside." If causality is something we impose on the sensory input, then how do those things become objects in our experience? The process of turning sensory data into an experienced image can’t be explained by causation if causality is imposed after the fact.

For example, if I drop a vase and it shatters, I can explain that causally: the vase tipped off the table, hit the cement floor, and broke into pieces. That’s a causal explanation for why the vase is in pieces. But you can’t use causality to explain how the vase became part of my experience in the first place if causality is just one of the categories the mind imposes on sensory data. There can’t be an "outside" or "inside" for this process to occur, and that’s another problem I have with Kant’s account.

Kant claims the outside world is chaotic, and this makes sense in his framework if we’re talking about raw sensory data—pure sights, sounds, tastes, touches, and smells. But these don’t occur in time or space until the mind organizes them. If you subtract time, space, and all the categories of understanding (such as reality, negation, and causality), then how can such chaos even be considered sensory? Sensory experiences have specific properties that follow certain laws. For example, nothing can appear both blue and red at the same time to the same person—that’s a sensory law. Other laws govern feelings as well as perceptions, and psychology makes use of these patterns and syndromes.

But how can something be a specific type of property, like color or sound, if the input is completely chaotic? If there’s no order at all, then we couldn’t have anything like the color spectrum, where we see red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. That’s an order we observe, whether through a prism or a rainbow. Chaos, by definition, lacks order, so how could we distinguish red from green, or hot from cold, in a state of total chaos? If it’s truly chaotic, it can’t be sensory at all.

So, I find great difficulty with this scheme, clever as it is. If what comes into the mind is chaotic, it can’t also be sensory. And if the sensory input is what gets organized into something we experience, isn’t that input the cause of the experienced object? It seems that Kant himself almost realizes this and tries to obscure the issue, saying things like, "One thing gives rise to another." But what does that mean?

That sounds like an attempt to cover up the fact that one thing causes another. If causality is only imposed on the input once it's inside the mind, then the input can’t be the cause. But if it isn’t the cause, what is? Why do these things appear in our minds at all? The objections I have are all of the same form: you can’t have your cake and eat it too. You can’t tell me that space, time, and all the categories of understanding are part of the finished product in our minds and that we are only conscious of them because the mind imposed them on the sensory input, and then talk as if space, time, and causality already exist independently of us as perceivers.

Kant is focused on refuting Hume, step by step, and that’s what he’s trying to do here. His big move is to say that whatever isn’t a sensory impression—sight, taste, touch, sound—is imposed by the mind. But I don’t see how he can explain things if he removes causality from the sensory input and claims it’s only imposed by the mind’s categories. He envisions all this happening simultaneously, but that means we can’t say space and time are imposed "before" or "after" anything. Yet he still wants to treat categories like causality as rules.

There are two kinds of concepts: the ones we form after experiencing something, by abstracting its defining characteristics, and others that we need to understand how to use or recognize the object. For example, we form a concept of a vase, but that concept has already been imposed on the sensory input by the mind before we experience it as a vase. How do we explain that without implying that time is already there before we experience it?

Kant himself raises this issue when he asks how the pure, logical categories of understanding can apply to the purely sensory forms of intuition. He’s fallen into the same problem that Descartes and others struggled with—how do mind and matter, the purely logical and the purely sensory, interact? They’re utterly different things. Sensory properties are things like sight, taste, touch, smell, and sound. Logical categories, like reality, negation, and causality, are different. Kant argues that these logical categories exist as rules before we experience anything, and they help shape our experience.

But how can that not be a causal relation? Don’t these unconscious concepts, when they impose themselves on the perceptions we experience, cause the object to have the properties we perceive? You can’t say that’s true because causality is one of the things being imposed.

So, how can purely logical categories of understanding be imposed on purely sensory data? Kant’s answer is that time is already schematized, already arranged by the categories. But that’s circular reasoning. In logic, "begging the question" means arguing in a circle. If I say, "God exists," and you ask how I know that, and I reply, "The Bible says so, and the Bible was inspired by God, who can’t lie, therefore God exists," that’s circular. The premises assume the conclusion is true, which isn’t valid.

That’s what Kant does here when he says time is already schematized by the categories. He’s using the conclusion in the premise, which is not a valid way to argue. He never acknowledges this flaw or takes it back, but interestingly, in his third book, he raises the issue again and gives a different answer. He says there’s something that mediates between the logical and the sensory, which allows them to interact, and he calls this "the imagination." He goes on to develop this theory, so it seems he realized that his earlier answer didn’t hold up and he needed to try a better one.

We’re not going to get to Kant’s third book in this undergraduate course. He wrote three great critiques: The Critique of Pure Reason, which we’re discussing now as his theory of knowledge; The Critique of Practical Reason, which deals with ethics and how we know moral truths; and The Critique of Judgment, which covers aesthetics and why we regard some things as beautiful or works of art. We’ll cover Kant’s ethics for sure, as that’s a key part of his work.

Kant’s system is a bold, intricate architecture of the mind, but I haven’t finished explaining it yet. Let’s get back to the board and continue. Here’s the chaotic sensory "manifold," which just means a whole lot of stuff that comes through and is organized by space and time. These are the forms of sensory intuition—in other words, perception. This chaotic manifold is organized spatially and temporally. I’ll use the example of the vase again: not only is it organized spatially and temporally, but it is also organized by the categories of the understanding. If we are going to understand what we experience, it can't just be space and time that are imposed on it. There must also be some sort of logical, conceptual order. We went through the list of these categories, and they are imposed as well.

The result is that we experience measurable quantities and distinguishable qualities. Objects can enter into relationships, such as being dependent on substances they adhere to, or cause and effect, or reciprocity, where they can interact with and affect other things. All of that is imposed by the mind. But we didn’t get to the last set of ideas that are also imposed, which Kant calls "ideas of reason," sometimes referred to as pure reason. I don’t think there is such a thing, but Kant gives more than one list of these ideas in different places, and we can say he expands on them rather than presenting one definitive list.

Here are the main ones: the self. Hume said we don’t have an idea of the self because we can’t name the specific sights, tastes, touches, smells, and sounds that make up the self. But Kant says no, the self is one of these ideas of reason. Ideas of reason are those that any rational person will think of sooner or later. They’ll occur naturally to us, and we’ll use terms to designate these ideas, such as "self." Everybody talks about themselves as distinct from other people and things, and this idea naturally arises in us. Can we prove the existence or nature of the self? No. Ideas of reason can’t be proven, and they can’t be fully explained either. They are just ideas we think because we are rational beings. The only things we can prove are the concepts that apply to experienced objects—concepts that serve as rules that help form those objects.

This is where most mistakes in philosophy come from, Kant says. People spend endless amounts of paper and ink trying to prove things that can’t be proven because they are ideas of reason, not concepts we can grasp. Kant distinguishes between ideas and concepts—sometimes calling ideas "limiting ideas." I think this is a real contribution to philosophy because there is a crucial difference between them. A concept involves understanding the parts and properties of something—how they are arranged—so that we can use or identify it. For example, I have a concept of my suitcase at the airport turnstile. I need to identify it to retrieve it. I don’t use my suitcase to write a check—I need a pen for that. I have a concept of a pen and its parts and properties, which is how I recognize and use it.

So, these are the conscious concepts we form. They correspond, if correctly understood, to the unconscious concepts (the rules) that made the object what it is in the first place. But trying to apply logical concepts to the ideas of reason leads to confusion. To illustrate this, Kant offers us a proof that space is infinite and another proof that space is not infinite. He insists both proofs have true premises and valid inferences. That shows us logic doesn't apply to ideas like space in the same way it does to concepts. He does the same thing with time.

What else is there? The idea of things-in-themselves—that is, the external world. This idea arises in everyone, Kant says. Hume had a clever point: he said we can’t know there’s a world outside of ourselves, and yet, after hearing that argument, we go right back to believing in an external world. Kant agrees. We have the idea that there is a world independent of us, and we tend to believe that our perceptions are just like that world. But can we prove that our perceptions are what the world is really like? No. Can we prove that things-in-themselves exist? No, but we still have this idea, and we need it to function. It’s part of how we get through life.

Another idea of reason is the "most real being." This is the idea of where everything comes from, though that’s not the part Kant emphasizes. Instead, he focuses on God as the moral judge. It’s strange because Kant doesn’t regard God as the creator of the world in the traditional sense. Chaotic sensory input comes to us, and our minds create the order we experience, so God isn’t seen as creating the world in this framework. Rather, God is viewed as a morally perfect being who will judge all of us on Judgment Day.

Kant claims we know this because we have a natural belief that good actions should correspond to some kind of reward, and evil actions should result in punishment. We think there’s a moral order in the world, and we project that onto our experience. We organize our experiences more consciously by having the idea of the self, a real external world, and God. These ideas help us organize the bigger picture of life and reality. We can’t think about the world without distinguishing things from ourselves. In Kant’s view, the self adds everything to what was otherwise pure sensory chaos, turning it into an organized experience that we can live in, analyze, and use. We need the categories of understanding for that, but we also need the ideas of reason. They help us organize experience more consciously and help us think about our lives and purposes.

Kant includes other examples of ideas of reason, like freedom—real freedom. He’s a big proponent of free will and free thought. The problem is that "free will" is often reduced to simply making choices, but Kant believes humans need freedom not only to make choices but also to reason. For any conclusion we reach through reasoning to be valid, it must come from free, uncoerced thinking. This involves weighing evidence, considering counterarguments, constructing arguments, and so on, to arrive at a reasoned conclusion. Sometimes this process is complicated, and other times it’s simple, like finding a mistake in your checkbook. Either way, reasoning has to be free to count as knowledge because knowledge means certainty. You can be certain either because you have reasons that prove something is true or because it’s self-evident.

I’ve given examples of self-evidence, like how 1 + 1 = 2, or how nothing can be both true and false at the same time in the same sense. These ideas of reason can’t be proven true or false. Kant denies both options. These ideas are imposed on our experience, not because they come from sense perceptions, but because sense perception is the occasion for thinking about them.

Kant would add that you can’t live without these ideas. They have what he calls practical value. When we study philosophy, especially post-Kant, we’ll see how his division of knowledge influenced other philosophical movements. Some people, like the positivists of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, insisted that knowledge comes only through sensory perception or logic. They believed that we impose logic on sensory data to explain our entire experience. Others rejected the idea of truth altogether, focusing instead on what’s practically useful.

This pragmatist movement gave up on the idea of absolute truth, saying that earlier philosophers were wrong to seek indubitable, certain truths. These pragmatists argued that our understanding of the world should be based on practical usefulness, not on an unattainable search for truth.

Kant’s ideas of reason—the self, God, and a real world—are things we can't prove but can’t escape either. They help us organize our lives and make sense of morality. Kant believes we have a natural moral idea that good should be rewarded and evil punished, even though this doesn’t always happen in the world we experience. Therefore, we come up with the idea of a perfect moral judge (God) who will make things right in the next world. For Kant, God is a postulate, a hypothesis of our moral reasoning.

Ethics is different from the ideas of reason because ethical truths can be proven and explained. But since right actions aren’t always rewarded and wrong ones aren’t always punished in this life, we hypothesize that it will be sorted out by a perfectly moral being, which we call God.

We'll stop here with Kant’s ideas of reason. Time's up for now, and next time we’ll tackle a summary comparison and move on to Kant’s ethics. So, do the reading I’ve assigned, review the recordings, and I’ll see you next time.