“Be in the moment!” In our chronically online and attention-deficient age, this admonition is a constant refrain. It usually means: “Focus on neither the past nor the future, but rather the present—what is happening right now.” A favorite instruction of guided meditations, it may also be heard as a protest against the impulse to sully a beautiful view with a photo shoot. Too often, our minds are clouded by remorse for past events or anxiety about future events that we are unable to appreciate the present for what it is. Clearly, there is some truth to this. However, the normative force of “Be in the moment!” relies on the misleading descriptive claim that we are only ever in the moment (so why try to exist outside it?). This, in turn, rests on a conception of time as a series of punctual moments, as on a timeline, that seem linked only because we perceive them as such. Martin Heidegger had a name for this understanding: “now-time,” or the “ordinary” (Vulgär) conception of time. I seek to argue, with Heidegger’s help, that the admonition to “be in the moment” obscures essential features of our temporality, thereby diminishing our potential for authentic living. My primary aim is to reconstruct Heidegger’s accounts of now-time, world-time, originary temporality, and the authentic mode of relating to all of these. What emerges is the foundation for a more authentic way of relating to time whose explanatory priority lies not in one’s present situation but in one’s future possibilities.

          Now-time (Jetzt-Zeit) is the most proximal conception of time according to which we humans, as Dasein, live our lives. On this understanding, Heidegger writes, “time shows itself as a sequence of nows which are constantly ‘present-at-hand,’ simultaneously passing away and coming along. Time is understood as a succession, as a ‘flowing stream’ of nows, as the ‘course of time.’” The language of “sequence” and “succession” indicates that time is here understood as a series of discrete moments so short that their continual coming and going seems to constitute a flow, but in fact does not. Each moment, or “now,” is “present-at-hand” in the sense that it has an objective (and thus constant) duration. One can quibble about how long exactly the “now” is, but most would say a fraction of a second. Heidegger calls this conception “now-time” because it views time as nothing but these infinitesimally short “nows,” linked by nothing but one another; for “the sequence of nows is uninterrupted and has no gaps.” Now-time resembles a popular position in contemporary philosophy known as the cinematic or snapshot view of time, which holds that “neither our awareness itself nor its contents have temporal extension.” But now-time is also the idea we live by in our everyday lives, most obviously in our use of clocks. The convention of designating the current “now” with clock-time reflects our conception of time as a series of discrete moments: 4:17 comes after 4:16, the fourth second of a minute comes after the third, and so on. Heidegger emphasizes that now-time existed far before the invention of clocks, for Dasein has always measured its time, whether by the sun or some other means; the only difference is that the units of measurement have changed. If time were divided into sufficiently short instants, the logic goes, there would be nothing between them. Indeed, now-time is so integral to our everyday existence that it is hard to imagine any other way to conceive of time.

          Now-time is implicit in our telling someone to “be in the moment.” To show how, let us begin by acknowledging that the imperative asks one to exist in the present, at the exclusion of both the past and the future. What is the present? Although the word “moment” seems to leave the present’s length ambiguous—it could be a split second, or the multi-hour duration of an activity—the statement’s exclusion of the past and future actually requires that the “moment” be infinitesimally short. If one were to “be” in the next minute or even the next second—that is, anticipate or worry about what will happen then—one could not claim to be in the moment. Thus, the perception of time as a succession of constantly fleeting nows underlies “be in the moment.” But that is not all: the insistence upon the singularity of the moment betrays the idea that there is only ever one moment to be in. In fact, the moment has no duration: like the instants of now-time, the moment is a point. Thus, “be in the moment,” as a statement of now-time, objectifies the present in such a way that there is nothing significant about it except the fact that it is the present. Why should we be in the present? Because it is the present—because it is all that is.

          Heidegger complicates this picture by introducing the notion of world-time (Weltzeit). If now-time is responsible for our sense of the present’s punctuality, world-time is responsible for our sense of the present’s universality, and is thus explanatorily prior to our conception of now-time. As Heidegger puts it, world-time is “that time ‘wherein’ entities within-the-world are encountered.” In other words, it is the kind of time that enables us to encounter things in the world. We can clarify what world-time is by examining its four constitutive aspects in turn: publicness, datability, spannedness, and worldhood.

The most accessible of world-time’s four aspects is publicness (Öffentlichkeit). Indeed, Heidegger often calls world-time “public time.” Publicness is the characteristic of world-time whereby we take ourselves to be in the same “now” as one another at any given time. Publicness allows me to say to another person, “Now it is twelve o’clock,” knowing that if they are in the same time zone, it is now twelve o’clock for them, too. If they are not in my time zone—if we are talking on the phone, for instance—I still understand that while it is currently another time for them, we are fundamentally in the same now. And publicness extends beyond the now: only because we understand time as public, as shared, as out there in the world, can we say that we “use,” “buy,” or “borrow” time. Publicness is perhaps the aspect of world-time that is least concealed in now-time, since the measurement of time with clocks and timeliness obviously presupposes that any quantified time will be intelligible as the same “now” by everyone. Still, the fact that we take ourselves to be in the same now remains hidden in now-time. We take for granted that “now” is simply now—that when one person says “be in the moment,” the other will know what time they mean.

          A second aspect of world-time is datability (Datierbarkeit), the structure by which Dasein assigns a temporal structure to its experience. In practice, datability refers to our assignment of times to events and events to times, even “before” we impose the numerical values of now-time (like “November 8” or “9:15 a.m.”) on those events. For example, when we say “It is cold,” we mean “It is cold now,” just as when we say “It was cold,” we mean “It was cold formerly.” Conversely, time has content for us, for “When we say ‘now,’ we always understand a ‘now that so and so.’” Although datability includes the word “date,” it has nothing to do with numerical dates. Instead, datability simply means that all that happens is happening at a time, and every time is a time when something is happening. Clearly, datability enables the conception of now-time, since interpreting time as a sequence of nows makes sense only if Dasein has an intuitive idea of its existence within a structure of past, present, and future. If Dasein could not date itself, time could not seem to be a “flowing stream,” since Dasein would not be fixed in relation to it. In this admittedly murky way, now-time reveals datability as a feature of world-time. Mostly, however, now-time covers up datability, for the now of now-time is not understood to be “now, when x,” but rather simply “now.” This is especially glaring in  “Be in the moment!” In the moment when you are doing what? The admonition suggests that the moment is a space where you need not do anything, when in fact every moment is always a moment when you are doing something.

          The aspect of world-time which may be most obscured by now-time is spannedness (Spanne), which affords every “now” the property of duration. Heidegger introduces the concept of spannedness by observing that we understand there to be a length of time—not just a series of nows—between any “now” and a future “then.” This liminal length is itself datable with expressions like “during” and “meanwhile,” which shows that we can conceive of a future “now” (and by extension, any past or present now) with a duration we ourselves have determined. Spannedness accounts for how I can simultaneously say “Now I am writing,” “Now I am a student,” and “Now I am alive,” even though these nows are of vastly different lengths. In fact, no now to which we refer is ever punctual; every now is temporally extended. Even the clock, our paradigmatic instrument of now-time, reveals the spanned nature of world-time by designating as an hour an arbitrary number of minutes and as minute an arbitrary number of seconds. Seconds may be in turn divided into milliseconds, nanoseconds, and so on—there are infinite nows between one second and the next—though the clock does not show this directly. Assigning numbers to time requires that we pin down the now as if it were punctual, when in fact it is spanned. Much like a clock obscures the spannedness of seconds, the statement “be in the moment”—in its exclusion of anything that might be called past or future—obscures the spannedness of said moment, despite the fact that “moments” are by definition variable in length.

          The fourth aspect of world-time is worldhood (Weltlichkeit), which situates every time in a normative structure of significance. As Heidegger explains, “The time which is interpreted in concern is already understood as a time for something. The current ‘now that so and so…’ is as such either appropriate or inappropriate.” He returns to the sun for a primitive example: depending on the context, the now of dawn is understood implicitly as the time for waking up or the time for going to work. The clock, as an instrument of now-time, obscures this aspect of world-time by seeming to give every “now” equal status. But it is in light of the worldhood of time that clocks are useful to us: 8:00, for example, is not just a string of numbers—“the time it is now”—but “the time for waking up,” or whatever the case may be. Moreover, the design of a clock—which assigns the hour and half-hour to the extreme points of its vertical axis, and the fifteen-minute intervals between these to its leftmost and rightmost points—reflects our taking certain numerical times to be more appropriate than others as times for anything. For instance, 9:00 is a more “appropriate” time than 9:03 or 9:10 not by itself, but rather for setting an alarm to wake up, holding a meeting, etc. The statement “be in the moment” similarly covers up the worldhood of time by suggesting that the moment is not “for” anything but itself. When someone leading a meditation says it, they want the one hearing to “forget” that they have made the moment significant as a moment for meditating. When a photo-averse person says it, it is because they have designated the moment as a moment for enjoying the scenery, not a moment for taking photos. The worldhood of time entails that by doing anything, I am implicitly asserting that now is the right time to do it.

As we have seen, the admonition to “be in the moment” covers up all four aspects of the kind of time (world-time) from which we derive our ordinary conception of time (now-time). Yet Heidegger shows us that world-time is in turn explicable only by an even more basic kind of time, originary or primordial (ursprünglich) time. Primordial time is the kind of time that Heidegger has been working to uncover throughout Being and Time; it is “the condition which makes the everyday experience of time both possible and necessary.” In Division II, Chapter 6, he gets primordial time into view by observing that Dasein is not just Being-towards-the-end (i.e., death), but also Being-towards-the-beginning (i.e., birth). To see this, we need not look further than Dasein’s characteristic activity of thrown projection, by which Dasein claims the circumstances it has been thrown into from birth, even as it reinterprets them by projecting its own possibilities until death. Because of the bidirectional gaze of thrown projection, “Dasein does not exist as the sum of the momentary actualities of Experiences which come along successively and disappear.” In other words, Dasein does not exist exclusively in now-time, for Dasein is not just the sum of its experiences at a series of present-at-hand nows. Rather, Dasein is also its past circumstances and future possibilities. As Heidegger puts it, Dasein “is stretched along and stretches itself along” primordial time via its own activity. The scope of primordial time is Dasein’s entire lifetime, without which the four aspects of world-time could not exist. The now could not be public, datable, spanned, or worldly without the finite being that discloses the now as public, dates the now, relates the now to the broadest now of its own life, and renders the now a time for something in light of its finitude. Therefore, primordial time is the kind of time that makes Dasein a whole and undergirds its Being as care (cf. ).

          Encouraging someone to “be in the moment” obfuscates primordial time, thereby exemplifying an inauthentic relation to time that Heidegger calls “making-present” (gegenwärtigen). Making-present describes a state of “falling into the ‘world’ of one’s concern”—the everyday realm where Dasein’s perspective is confined to the objects it encounters as equipment for fulfilling immediate ends. In making-present, Dasein’s attention becomes myopic: it seems to forget its Being as thrown projection, which is to say it forgets that it goes about all its everyday tasks in the context of broader priorities. Of course, the most global context Dasein forgets in making-present is its own finitude, in virtue of which all its priorities matter. The imperative to “be in the moment” epitomizes making-present because it disallows making sense of what one is doing now in light of anything futural; thus, it stands opposed to the maxim “live every day as if it were your last,” even though similar sentiments may motivate the two statements. To “be in the moment” is to forget not only that one has priorities, but also that everything one does is an implicit articulation of those priorities. Consequently, one’s experience of time becomes “an inauthentic awaiting of ‘moments’—an awaiting in which these are already forgotten as they glide by.” Time seems never to arise, but only to pass away; one conceives of oneself not as stretching oneself along time, but rather passively lost in its flow. What making-present makes present, then, is primordial time itself, whose past and futural aspects are subjugated to the cult of the present “moment.”

Heidegger reveals our potential for a more authentic relation to primordial time and world-time by contrasting making-present with his concept of the Augenblick, in which Dasein recognizes its past, present, and future as inseparable aspects of its own wholeness. The Augenblick is “the resolute rapture with which Dasein is carried away to whatever possibilities and circumstances are encountered in the Situation as possible objects of concern.” Bearing in mind both its possibilities (projection) and its circumstances (thrownness), Dasein does not lose sight of its priorities amid the world of its concern, but sees those priorities themselves as objects of concern to be constantly actualized and reevaluated. In the Augenblick, Dasein understands its Being as care and itself as finite, but not in such a way that it is afraid of its own death; its rapture is resolute, at once unflinching in its acknowledgment of mortality and steadfast in its commitment to living. The Augenblick is an “ecstasis” in the sense that it allows Dasein to stand outside the world of its concern—outside the punctual present of now-time—and grasp world-time and primordial time, if only implicitly, as the grounds of its temporal experience. Crucially, the Augenblick does not mean an escape from the present—where all experience occurs—but rather expands the present to include one’s whole life. If we translate it as “moment,” we had better bear in mind the English word’s other meaning of “importance,” from which we get “momentous.” The Augenblick renders the present important—i.e., consequential—precisely by being the “gaze of the eye,” for it is in the present (both right this second and during one’s life) that one judges practically what is worth attending to by focusing on certain things rather than others. The Augenblick, then, could not be more different from the “moment” of “be in the moment,” for while the former imbues the now with momentous stakes by maximally dilating it, the latter deflates the stakes of the now by maximally contracting it. Even the English word “moment” obscures the essential relation between Dasein and time, whereas the German word Augenblick identifies Dasein’s caring activity—its gaze—as the precondition for temporal experience and Dasein’s sense of continuity from one moment to the next.

          It is an inevitable consequence of the Augenblick’s expansion of the now that the future acquires explanatory priority over the present in the question of Dasein’s Being. While the inauthentic understanding of one’s potentiality-for-Being “temporalizes itself in terms of making present,” Heidegger observes, the Augenblick does so “in terms of the authentic future.” This means that while making-present confines the implications of one’s activity to the punctual now of now-time, the Augenblick discloses those implications as primarily futural. Thus, the Augenblick is explicable not in terms of the vulgar “now” (dem Jetzt), but in terms of future possibilities: as the “gaze of the eye,” it “permits us to encounter for the first time what can be ‘in a time’ as ready-to-hand or present-at-hand.” In the Augenblick, Dasein discovers itself in the equipment that constitutes the world of its concern, which in turn leads it to recognize that it is the one responsible for stretching oneself along and projecting itself toward certain possibilities rather than others. The worldhood of time becomes particularly apparent, for the current “moment” no longer seems trivial; every “now” becomes significant in terms of what it is a time for, which is to say in terms of its bearing on the future. So while “be in the moment” suggests that the present is all that matters, the Augenblick insists that the present matters only because the future does.

          In Heidegger’s categories of inauthenticity and authenticity we find the foundation I promised for a more authentic way of relating to time. “Be in the moment” exemplifies an inauthentic mode of relating to time—i.e., making-present—that obscures world-time and primordial time as the fundamental structures of our experience. To be in the Augenblick, on the other hand, is to relate to the now authentically: it means to own up to the present as datable, public, spanned, and worldly; and to understand it as inseparable from the past and future. In the inauthentic mode, one is lost in one’s immediate concerns rather than seeing the “big picture,” and passively awaits the future rather than owning it as the ground of one’s priorities. Thus, although “be in the moment” seems to inflate the status of the present, it actually diminishes the present into a kind of hollow shell. But in the authentic mode, one owns up to both the past and future—stretching back to one’s birth and forward to one’s death—as constitutive of who one is and what one does.

          Heidegger’s authenticity is proto-ethical in that it denotes appropriation of one’s own temporality as the ground of one’s reasons for doing this rather than that in any given case. Yet authenticity is not fully ethical, for while it describes a relation to one’s reasons (the “subjective ought”), it fails to prescribe specific actions (the “objective ought”). The extent to which one could derive the latter from the former is doubtful, at least within the framework of Being and Time. Yet authenticity, if proto-ethical, is far from irrelevant. We could retort that relating authentically to time is further than most people get in life—never mind living ethically. By saying things like “be in the moment,” we evacuate ourselves from the now, only to reinsert ourselves in it as passengers. We say that time is a flowing stream, forgetting that we are the ones stretching ourselves along. At worst, we pretend indifference, when in fact—as being in the Augenblick reminds me—there is nothing more fundamental to our experience than that we care.

References

Hägglund, Martin. “Lecture 25: Now-Time, World-Time, and Originary Temporality.” Lecture.

PHIL 402: Being and Time, Yale University, 24 April 2024.

Heidegger, Martin. Being and Time. 1927. Translated by John Macquarrie and Edward Robinson,

Harper Perennial, 2008.

Phillips, Ian, editor. The Routledge Handbook of Philosophy of Temporal Experience. Routledge, 2017.