What the hell...

...is Heidegger up to with his odd terms "readiness-to-hand" and "presence-at-hand?" Since my posts have been getting tedious and long lately, I'll keep this short and to the point. I'll explicate these terms and what they do in probably three posts, and, if we take them together, we'll hopefully get a full sense of what he means.
First, the "ready-to-hand." This horrible neologism is a translation of another horrible neologism in the German: Zuhanden. Let's break it down. "Zu-" means "to," or "towards," while "Hand" means "hand," in the sense of one's anatomical appendage as well as something more like one's ability to grasp either with the hand or with one's potential to use or manipulate. So, we have Zu-handen: towards the hand. "Zur Hand" is the German expression for "at hand" or "readily available," and this is the sense that the word really has. Towards the hand: whatever is available and in a sense comes towards my ability to manipulate or use it or involve it in my existence is what possesses Zuhandenheit. In English, we say that something is "ready at hand" whenever it is there where we want it to be when we are in need of it: my gun was ready at hand when the robber came into my home and because it was so, it allowed me to fend him off successfully. My (military) general was ready at hand to deploy my orders--therefore they were carried out efficiently. This is why the translators adopt the stilted phrase "ready-to-hand," running all the words together to make them seem to signify a more integrated phenomenon.
But despite the good work of the translators here, this new word can be a bit misleading--and this is simply because Heidegger's word itself is also misleading and doesn't really get at what he means by it. Let's trace its genealogy and then specify what it really relates to.
Now, the word comes into use while Heidegger is explaining what he calls "Being-in-the-world," and specifically in the chapter of Being and Time in which Heidegger is trying to specify the "worldhood of the world." Let's establish this context concretely, then. Being-in-the-world is the mode in which we exist for the most part. It is the most basic "state" in which we carry out our lives. As beings that interrogate our own existence and our various possibilities of existence--this is what Hedegger specifies as "Dasein," what he determined as the basic type of being that can grasp Being, or what makes existence possible--as this being we produce and inhabit this basic state as the primary way in which we can be those beings--that is, as the primary way in which we can interrogate our existence. Being-in-the-world is a sort of state of our understanding of ourselves at any particular moment. But this understanding is not a superficial kind of understanding. Indeed, it is the understanding that makes possible all superficial understandings of ourselves. What is a superficial understanding? Well, "what I want," "what is making me angry," "what I feel like:" all these understandings, while essential to who we are, do not really get at who we are essentially. If one was to characterize oneself completely and fully and to only be considered as someone who characterized her or himself thus, then one would be understanding oneself more in this way of understanding that Heidegger specifies: Heidegger calls this state of understanding a laying-out of one's "mine-ness," one's most essential essence as oneself. Now it becomes clear that Being-in-the-world is the way that we go about understanding ourselves in this essential way. We interrogate ourselves as to why and how our existence is possible on the basis of our being-in-the-world. Now, what is being-in-the-world? Nothing other than what we might call "living out our life." We construct a world in which we live, an environment in which we are always, out of the various ways we see and understand our possibilities for existing, our possibilities for answering the question as to how and why our existence is possible. Put differently, we answer the question "what is Being," what makes existence possible, not through any formalized answer, but through existing. While we pursue this answer, we construct a world in which we exist and move such that it too is part of the answer. Thus when Heidegger himself asks about Being, he has to go to look at what the world is, and what being in it would be like for mostly everyone.
We haven't really specified yet what a "world" is, however. I mean, what isn't an answer to or understanding of Being if that answer articulates itself through existence? Well, the world is most basically characterized as that which is not Dasein but which nonetheless is what Dasein has constructed for itself in order to be itself. It is what is necessary for "mineness," for understanding. It is nothing like what we normally mean by saying "world:" it is not the planet Earth, it is not what is objective and outside subjectivity, it is not any immaterial and idealistic Spirit-world of various ideas and cultures which we specify by the words "world of ideas." Rather, it is what is, most fundamentally, familiar to Dasein, to the being that understands itself in order to interrogate itself as to why and how it is possible for it to exist. As Heidegger says, "'I am' means in its turn 'I reside' or 'dwell alongside' the world, as that which is familiar to me in such and such a way" (Being and Time, 80). It is this "in such and such a way," this qualifying of the world that constitutes it as a world, as what is specific to any particular Dasein and indeed constitutes any Dasein as Dasein. In other words, we all understand ourselves differently (and sometimes similarly) and what is familiar to us then, what constitutes the place where our existence seems to dwell most at home, reflects this fact and is produced as a way of bringing that understanding to the fore. The spatial metaphor of "dwelling" is apt: Heidegger indeed will use this later to characterize being-in-the-world instead of that particular term (cf. "Being, Dwelling, Thinking"). Why is this apt? Because the world is "where" Dasein understands itself, "where" Dasein is familiar to itself such that it can successfully penetrate into its own essence and bring its own existence to the fore as an answer to the question posed by Being. When Descartes says "I am," he says it after supposedly abstracting himself away from what he considered his world--and yet, for Heidegger, Descartes in that moment was most thoroughly grounded in his own world, was dwelling in it most comfortably and appreciating it profoundly, because it was that space that actually allowed him to really assert that he was, that he existed. What appeared as the world to Descartes was not really the world--this was the world of thought, of cogitation. Descartes was being-in-the-world most fundamentally when he said "I am," cogito ergo sum. it was indeed this lack of attention to the world that made Descartes so blind to his own existence and his proof of his own existence so weak for Heidegger. Interrogating his existence through this world, is what would have ensured a more grounded idea of existence for Descartes, holds Heidegger, and this interrogation through the world is precisely what is specified by the term "being-in-the-world."
So, that clarified, how do we get to the ready-to-hand? In order for Heidegger to show that specific way of interrogating existence that is and that occurs through a world, Heidegger must characterize what that world consists of. It consists of the ready-to-hand. Now, all Heidegger is getting at here is that we go through our lives essentially oblivious to and yet always answering the question that Being puts to us, namely, why and how is is possible that we should exist--let us not complicate things for ourselves too much with all this terminology. The world is what allows this answer, is what allows us to understand ourselves, is what is around us always throughout this process of being oblivious and yet of answering the question of Being. This is composed of what is ready-to-hand. Now, what the hell does this mean?
Well, Heidegger uses the example of walking into a room (97-98). Let us take it over to show concretely what he means. At any point in my life, I can walk into a room. Now, at this point, I am obviously walking into the room for a reason--I can be done with a day of work and walking into my home, I can be ready to get fit at a gym and walking into it, I can be pensive and viewing art in a particular room at a gallery, I can be a worker and rushing into a place where a crucial part is when it is needed elsewhere. All these various reasons for entering the room are my particular answer to the question of Being, that is, as to why my existence is possible. It is possible because of the way I exist: I constitute an answer by existing, by going to the gym ("I exist to get fit"), by viewing the art ("I exist to understand existence through art"), by rushing into the room with the part ("I exist to build that structure"). Now, the room itself will get constituted in accordance with this particular answer such that it will allow this answer to be. In other words, the room will become part of my world, it will appear to me and even exist for me in such a way that it conforms itself to this particular answer that I am constructing in my existence. For example, if I am urgently seeking one part I need to build a structure outside, I will enter a room and it will constitute itself such that I only see, only grasp, only understand the particular bolt which is necessary. After grabbing it, I will leave the room, and it will disappear from my intentional field, the field in which things come before me in order to allow me to exist in a particular way, the field that is my world. The room will become my world, and it will then disappear from my world. Similarly, I will enter a room in an art gallery that is dedicated to the paintings of Monet, and I will do so slowly, pensively, such that the space itself becomes my world in such a way as to reflect my intention to exist and answer the question Being poses to me. I might notice the stillness of the room, the sombre tones of its walls: all these things will constitute my world for me and will be taken up into my existence. When I come to view a painting, it will be there before me as part of my world, as something that I will use and utilize in order to construct a mode and a way of existing: I will take over whatever it represents and even see only that in it which is necessary for me to do this, to exist with it--I may only see one water-lily out of all those represented because it perhaps speaks to me more than all the others. I will then leave the room with this world there, with my world as it were added on to, made richer or enhanced, and I will carry this world with me into other rooms where I will use it and construct it to exist as well. It should be obvious that the world has no relationship to anything like "objective reality:" what is there might not be what enters into my existence. Being-in-the-world is a lot like walking through an unlit room at night: you bump into objects and they (as Heidegger says) light up for you, reveal themselves to you as there, as part of a space and a place you should be attentive to and would like to be attentive to in your trek to get some water from the fridge.
If we understand being-in-the-world a bit better, then, we can finally grasp what is ready-to-hand as what makes up this world, as that of which this world consists--and do so in the appropriate way. Let's continue using our examples. When you bump into something at night and then grasp its presence there in the form of a sort of basic awareness (that is, not explicitly in a reflective, fully-conscious way), what do you grasp? Obviously not the object as it is, but rather a perspective on the object shaded and colored and constructed to fit your intention and your relationship to it. That is, when you bump into a table in the middle of the night, you might only perceive or feel the corner of the table--in fact, you might only grasp that there is a corner there, not even that it is a corner "of the table." By no means do you instantly perceive the entire object such as it appears and is in daylight, and it is impossible to grasp as an object present there in its full presence, with all its dimensions available to you and all of its possible orientations, like in a carpenter's plan or a scientific rendering of the table in Cartesian space. You are simply getting up to get some water, and... corner. It is there. You orient yourself towards it as you continue to the fridge. You may even forget about it on your way back, or not remember exactly where it is, and bump into it again. Again it is only a corner, this time approached from a different angle. Refreshed, you go back to bed. What you have just encountered was in your world, as you existed in order to go get the water. As what composed that world, the corner was ready-at-hand, simply there, part of the means with which you attained your goal of getting to the fridge. The fridge itself and the glass of water were ready-at-hand too. At any point you approached and appropriated these things into the trajectory or path of your existence as it made its way towards its projected goal, and could access them again and again as these types of things, as means. Thus they were ready there for your hand, for your potential to manipulate on your way of forming and shaping and witnessing your world, the reflection and condition of your existence.
Now, for Heidegger, all our grasping of the world occurs in this type of manner, and always encounters this type of thing, the ready-at-hand: indeed, one could be at the height of their awareness at noon and the way one makes her or his way through the world would not differ essentially from this example. Turning to the other examples we have used (which all take place during the day and with varying moods of high awareness) should make this more than clear--that is, should make it clear that the sort of structure of this nighttime experience isn't necessarily connected to the night but, phenomenologically, is similar to the way it is with Being-in-the-world always. That is, it isn't the case that our vision is always impared such that we cannot fully conceive of the object fully. But it is the case that our awareness of things even in the daytime only extends so far--that is, only extends about as far as it does in this nighttime situation. The night reveals us for what we are, in this way--Maurice Merleau-Ponty continually uses it (and primarily nighttime sleepiness) for a setting to demonstrate his own take on Heideggerian Being-in-the-world in his Phenomenology of Perception. But let us look at the other examples.
When I am running into the room or warehouse to get the bolt necessary for completing the metal structure I am building outside, the bolt is my concern and in fact I never really become aware of the room that constructs itself around my rush to the bolt. I simply grab it and run out: the bolt appears there before me, it drops into my purview, and the objects in the room drop into my purview as objects that are merely obstacles on my way to getting that bolt to drop there before me. The bolt and the room have no existence beforehand, and they disappear afterwards. The only way I become aware of it and the room is if the bolt is not present to me in some way, if I drop it, if my intention and my existence is hampered by it or another object suddenly being there. In a similar way, I only become aware of the artwork insofar as it fails in some way to my discerning eye: integrated in an intention and an existence towards the work that seeks to take it up and be with it, it is only available to me as something there in the world when it becomes a problem for me. We will return to this precise aspect of the ready-to-hand later, but for now the point is that the objects get integrated into my world in a hazy and concealed way that is fused with my various intentions and modes of existence. I do not perceive the bolt acutely because it is merely something that is there to be included in the work I am producing outside--I need the bolt to complete my larger intention, that to which I am devoting my existence as an answer to the question posed by Being. The room too falls into place on the basis of this intention or devotion, and gets oriented obscurely around my rush to the object. A series of boxes on the left of me as I rush to a table there in the room do not really exist for me explicitly even if I see them there. My concern is the bolt, and they become merely things that are there in such a way as they compose a general space that acts as a means for my grasping it. The boxes and the room more generally are a big misty haze of means as I pass them, a blur that does indeed exist--we are not denying what is not "important to us" the right of existence--but which merely exists in a particular way that is such that they are in the background. This "way" is the way of the ready-at-hand: the room as part of my world gets oriented towards my existence and experienced by it in this way. More precisely stated, my world gets constituted as a world in its being ready-at-hand there. The ready-at-hand, then, is as we said what constitutes the world, and we understand this verb "constitute" now in the right way: those things that exist as ready-at-hand for me throughout my world do not make up this world as parts get combined together one by one into a whole, but rather they exist as a world when they exist in the particular way of the ready-at-hand. Being ready-at-hand, they are the way the world is experienced and thus the way in which the world is.
This should clarify some of the relationships between the world and the ready-at-hand, but it still isn't clear what the hell Heidegger is getting at here. Though we showed what a ready-at-hand thing could be experienced like--namely, various rooms--we don't understand what this has to do with an inquiry into Dasein and its ability to grasp Being. Still less do we understand why objects in the world have to exist in this fuzzy and intentional manner rather than as objects like we normally see them. But all these questions arise and persist because we have stuck to the term "ready-at-hand" and elaborated what it meant without paying attention to our original reservations about it--namely, that it was a cruddy neologism. What we have to turn to in order to get a real understanding of what Heidegger is doing with the ready-at-hand is this reservation.
Why would Heidegger coin this new word? It is not merely because Heidegger does this a lot--indeed it is one of the main techniques of his particular hermeneutic, his way of engaging with philosophy. Heidegger is doing this here for a more basic reason. We read in Being and Time the following right before Heidegger characterizes the ready-at-hand through his example of entering a room, where Heidegger is simply trying to give a name to those basic things that exist within the world:

The Greeks had an appropriate term for "things:" pragmata--that is to say, that which one has to do with in one's concernful dealings (praxis). But ontologically the specifically "pragmatic" character of the pragmata is just what the Greeks left in obscurity (96-7).

There is a word that is better than Zuhanden, "the ready-at-hand," a Greek word. It is because this better word exists that Heidegger feels he should make a word in German that would bring its Greek sense back into modern times. Now, Heidegger does not believe that the Greek time was any better than modern times, though many still characterize him in this way. Heidegger is not another Winkelmann nostalgic for the age in which "real men" lived; he does not wish he was Greek. Heidegger conducted an intense study of the Greek and early Greek writings in the years before and during the composition of Being and Time in seminars and privately because he realized that the Greeks had a closer understanding of the real ground of ontology than many throughout history. It is not that this understanding allowed them to grasp it better and define it concretely. Indeed, it is often their misunderstandings of Being that Heidegger finds most informative as to what Being is. What is crucial for Heidegger about the Greeks is that they brought Being, the ground of ontology and metaphysics, to words more explicitly than the rest of Western history. Indeed, this did not make them better in any way, but made them engage with philosophy in a way Heidegger thought was particularly important for his time. Their language reflects this closer understanding and misunderstanding of Being, and so it brings into the sphere of signification more subtleties in the characterization of Being and beings that relate to Being (like Dasein) than a more modern vocabulary. This simple difference is, at bottom, why they are valuable, and why they can have a word for something that we must create a neologism for.
We might see, then, the passages on the ready-at-hand in Being and Time as merely explicating in a language more rigorously interrogating the phenomenon of Being that which the Greeks meant by pragmata--specifically that which was produced in the relationship of praxis and physis, what Heidegger calls "world." I will get into this in my next entry--this is enough for now.