The Cartesian moment

Reading Descartes' 'The Search for Truth by means of the Natural Light'. Part II

I. Simplicity

Descartes’ question is this: how come, that at a certain point in its development, philosophical thought starts turning against the philosopher. That is, how come, at a certain level of philosophical development, philosophers become so bold as to even deny the certainty they have of their own existence? This is Descartes’ question, and why he is interested in creating an entirely new method. And this is why the ‘Cogito’ will have such force when it arrives with Descartes’ name signed under it.

The philosopher thinks, he questions. But if this questioning does not unfold in an orderly manner, by way of method, the questioning will soon turn against the philosopher himself. Searching for the pre-conditions of his own existence, he eventually forgets that he even exists in the first place. When thought does not follow method, it eventually turns its own powers against itself. Thought ceases being in the service of life, and starts railing against it. Thought becomes self-destructive, but having lost consciousness of itself, it perceives this self-destruction as progress. This is what Descartes realizes, and why he wants to return to simple truths, simple and self-evident principles of philosophy, arrived at by following certain rules. One must develop one’s thought in an orderly fashion, or thought comes to resemble madness. It has been said that the weakness of Cartesianism lies in its simplicity, in its hesitation to take on complexity. But, if you look at what it was reacting against, this simplicity is precisely its strength. ‘Simplicity’; “and I do not mean this in the sense in which we use “simplicity” as a euphemism for “simple-mindedness” —but I mean the sort of fine and good character that has developed in accordance with an intelligent plan.” (Plato, Republic, III, 400e)

All misunderstandings of Descartes come down to seeing the simplicity of his philosophy as simple-minded, while in actual fact it is the simplicity of a noble soul. 

Descartes was educated at the academy. He enjoyed a classical philosophical education. But having gone through it, having tasted the wisdom of Plato and Aristotle, he became horrified at the situation he found himself in. Here I am, with all my fellow philosophers, but for all our learning and all our questioning, what do we actually know? It seems rather that for all our learning, we have ended up knowing even less than when we started. We have only become more conscious of our own ignorance. And for this, Descartes will be forever grateful to his educators. For it were they who made him realize the gravity of his own ignorance. 

How is it, that having thought so much, we have started denying even the certainty of our own existence? Ask any philosopher what ‘man’ is, and he will only reply with further questions. But is he not himself a man, and therefore, should he not know what a man is? It seems that the uneducated men know better what a man is, than the men who have enjoyed a philosophical education? If we are to know anything, wouldn’t it be that which we are? I will leave you to speculate about what this says about the manliness of philosophers. 

It is this that interests Descartes; how is it, that those who think, have started denying even themselves? How is it, that thought has turned against the one doing the thinking? Philosophy has become a danger for life, for the simple reason that in order to act, I need to know. And this is why we started doing philosophy in the first place, we wanted better knowledge, so that we could guide our actions with more certainty. But we have ended up with so little knowledge, that our domain for action has actually been made smaller and smaller. Eventually we end up being in such a state of confusion, that we can not act at all. Life grows by moving forward, but thought has come to prevent life from moving forward. Thought is no longer a guide for life, but an obstacle standing in the way of life, and philosophy has reduced the philosopher to the condition of a catatonic.   

This is Descartes’ problem, and why he decided to leave formal education, and seek out the truth by way of his own reason. He travelled, he joined the army, he learned about many different cultures, and most of all, he started thinking. He was confused, uncertain, and he realized that that which was supposed to give him certainty and confidence —philosophy— actually took his confidence and certainty away. 

Until Descartes realized: ‘the problem is that I have been thinking by way of the wrong method. I sought the truth by reading books, by following and combining the arguments made by the great philosophers of the past. But in fact, the royal road to truth is a road laid out by reason itself. That is, by my own reason.’ 

“I do not wish to consider what others have known or not known. I am content to observe that even if all the knowledge that can be desired were contained in books, the good things in them would be mingled with so many useless things, and scattered haphazardly through such a pile of massive tomes, that we should need more time for reading them than our present life allows, and more intelligence for picking out the useful material than would be required for discovering it on our own.” (The Search for Truth, 401)

It is not that Plato or Aristotle or anyone else was wrong, but that we would be thinking too highly of ourselves if we’d think that we can find the truth by searching for it in every thing that was ever written. The mind cannot take everything upon itself, and if it tried, it would soon find itself in a schizophrenia-like condition, exposed to so much complexity, that it eventually knows nothing at all. One must be more modest if one wants to find certainty. And thus, one has to ‘start over’, one has to start thinking by way of one’s own reason, confident that this reason has everything it needs to find those things worth knowing. You cannot take on everything at once, but only those things which you can reasonably hope to achieve. And you cannot rush blindly towards knowledge, but you have to make a plan, a discipline, a method, that makes sure that you will arrive at your destination. As it is said, if you do not have a goal, every road will take you there. And all great philosophers had a goal, and their own road to get there, their own method. But if we, wanting to gain knowledge, would just decide to read all these philosophers, scouring their books for the truth, we would be exposed to so many different roads, so many different methods, and so many different goals, that we would only end up achieving nothing. 

It is with these problems in mind, and having realized that he had to start over in a new fashion, that Descartes started writing the ‘Search for Truth by Means of the Natural Light.’ When Descartes starts over in a ‘new’ fashion, he shows himself to be an original thinker. But what does ‘original’ mean in this sense? It means that Descartes had decided to think in an originary manner. He wanted a thought that could serve as its own origin, and that didn’t have its origin in thoughts that were not those of his own reason. He did not want his origin to be in Plato, in Aristotle, in Aquinas, or in anyone else. For in this way, one would only be guided along paths that were not one’s own. Descartes did not create something new, he started doing what has always been new, and will forever be new —authentic thought. For this is what Descartes feared most of all, to have a thought that was not authentic. He feared living life, without ever having a thought of his own. He feared living a life in which he was being thought, but never actually thinking. 

I feel that we find ourselves in a similar situation as Descartes found himself in, and it is for this reason, among others, that I wanted to read The Search for Truth with you. We too, have this problem where philosophical thought has grown so complex, that it has started turning against its original ends. Philosophy, once asking for the pre-conditions for certainty, has forgotten that there is such a thing as certainty to begin with. And, after Descartes, we started asking what the pre-conditions for the subject’s existence might be, and seeking for these pre-conditions, we have forgotten that there is a subject to begin with. Investigating the differences and similarities between man and woman, we have forgotten that there is such a thing as ‘man’, and such a thing as ‘woman.’ Furthermore, with the increasing complexity of the world in terms of philosophical and scientific literature —never has there been more work available to us, and never has there been more work written — we can not reasonably hope to understand everything, filter out the nonsense, remember what is valuable, and come out the other end with the truth. Like Descartes, we must be more modest in our aims. And at the same time, more confident. We have to accept, that we can not gain all the knowledge the world has to offer. But we also have to accept, that this does not stand in the way of us gaining wisdom. The more truths there are, and the more truth is scattered, the more we have to believe that we are capable of attaining the truth. This is what Descartes wants us to believe. 

And as a reaction to all of these problems in our time, there is all this talk about ‘free-thinking’. Growing are the numbers of people who reject all knowledge issued by authority, be it political or academic, if there is even a difference between the two. They want to think by themselves, they want to be free spirits. But is it even possible to think by yourself? Is it even possible, or desirable, to be an entirely free spirit? And what are the dangers, the pitfalls, that accompany free thought? What should we look out for, in rejecting academic knowledge? It are these types of questions that I hope to develop by reading Descartes. For you must realize that what we consider free-thinking to be, as opposed to academic knowing, in many senses it all starts with Descartes. Not that before Descartes no one thought to think by themselves. Such a claim would be ludicrous. But how we conceptualize free-thought today, the form that it has in our thoughts and our actions, this form is given to us by the Cartesian moment. And when it comes to understanding this moment, there is no text better suited than The Search for Truth. In part for the not so irrelevant reason that at the time when The Search was written, Descartes’ philosophy was not yet accepted by people, it had not yet gained influence. And as such, Descartes was, truly, thinking for himself. Be it by way of the conceptual personae of Eudoxus, Epistemon, and Polyander. All of them show a manner of living and thinking. And all manners of living and thinking have their problems, and their virtues. 

II. The Search for Truth: Descartes’ introduction. 

The full title of our text reads: 

“The search for truth by means of the natural light:

which entirely pure, and without borrowing help from religion or philosophy, determines what opinions a honest man should hold on any matter that may occupy his thought, and penetrates into the secrets of the most curious sciences.” 

(Descartes, La Recherche de la Vérité. Own translation from the French) 

When Descartes says ‘religion’ and ‘philosophy’ here, he evidently means philosophy and religion as institutionalized doctrines. Descartes is interested in the nature of the subject  religion takes for itself: God, but he is not interested in investigating the divine by way of the methods of theology. Rather, he wants to arrive at God through the natural light of reason alone. And likewise, Descartes is interested in the subject of philosophy: truth, and wisdom —a life lived in accordance with truth. But he is not interested in arriving at this by way of the various philosophical doctrines and arguments already in existence. Rather, Descartes wants to arrive at truth by way of the natural light of reason alone. This natural light of thought, unclouded by the various opinions of theological and philosophical doctrine, will determine the “opinions a honest man should hold on any matter that may occupy his thought.” In the English translation we have in ‘The Philosophical Writings of Descartes’, we read: “what opinions a good man should hold on any matter that may occupy his thoughts”. The original French reads: “détermine les opinions que doit avoir un honnête homme, touchant toutes les choses qui peuvent occuper sa pensée.” Rather than translating ‘honnête homme’ as ‘good man’, I have chosen to stay closer to the original by saying ‘honest man’. It might appear as an insignificant detail, but it is not entirely. An honest man is also a good man, evidently. But the expression ‘honest man’ carries with it much more. An honest man is a man who doesn’t lie to himself or others, who doesn’t deceive, but is straightforward in his way of life and thought. Descartes will seek to have his philosophy be an expression of this ideal. Or rather, he wants to show that his philosophy is the philosophy that fits an honest man. It is a philosophy that is straightforward in its principles and its truths, and that doesn’t seek to deceive by way of so many elaborate reasonings and questions. There is a ‘simplicity’ here, in the noble sense that Plato speaks about. It is the man who is clear in his morals, stable, autarchical. It is the man who does what he says, and who says what he does. A man who lives in accordance with his own principles. In the honest man, there is no gap between thought and life, but only a sincere conformance. The honest man is a good man, but it is the man for which goodness is not the result of toil and artifice, it is the man whose nature it is to be good. He does not merely act good, he is good. It should also be mentioned that the expression ‘honnête homme’ has a rich tradition of usage, and was very common in the 17th century. We see it written of as an ideal also in Montaigne for example.¹

We should remind ourselves that, in all likelihood, the Search for Truth was written before Descartes’ major philosophical works. And in the Search for Truth, we will find the basis for many principal ideas that will make it into Descartes’ later and more well-known works. Already in the title of the Search for Truth, we have stumbled upon one of these ideas. Descartes says that the natural light will determine “what opinions a honest man should hold on any matter that may occupy his thought.” And in the Rules for the Direction of the Mind, we find something similar. The Rules for the Direction of the Mind was Descartes’ first major work that got him known as a philosopher, and it is very probable that Descartes ceased working on the Search for Truth to complete the Rules for the Direction of the Mind. The Rules are a collection of rules that a thinker should follow in order to lead his thoughts in an orderly fashion, which is the only way for Descartes to find the truth. And we could say that the Search for Truth displays the life that lives according to Descartes’ method (displayed in the character of Eudoxus), whereas the Rules articulates the rules that such a life follows. In rule 1 of the Rules, we read that a man should “consider simply how to increase the natural light of his reason, not with a view to solving this or that scholastic problem, but in order that his intellect should show his will what decision it ought to make in each of life’s contingencies.”(Rules for the Direction of the Mind, Rule One.) You see the similarity. This passage occurs in the context of Descartes saying that there is a danger in specialization. We read in the Rules for the Direction of the Mind: 

“Whenever people notice some similarity between two things, they are in the habit of ascribing to the one what they find true of the other, even when the two are not in that respect similar. Thus they wrongly compare the sciences, which consist wholly in knowledge acquired by the mind, with the arts, which require some bodily aptitude and practice. They recognize that one man cannot master all the arts at once and that it is easier to excel as a craftsman if one practices only one skill; for one man cannot turn his hand to both farming and harp-playing, or to several different tasks of this kind, as easily as he can to just one of them. This has made people come to think that the same must be true of the sciences as will.” (Rules for the Direction of the Mind, Rule One)

People have compared science (and philosophy) with the arts, and in the latter you can only become successful if you focus on one specific art, be it farming, painting, or playing the guitar. And very often, the more you become skilled in one art, the harder it becomes to become good in a different art. If you become a skilled farmer, your hands might become too rough to play the guitar. And if you become skiled in long-distance running, you might become too skinny to be good at weight-lifting. This is because in all these affairs, the body adjusts itself to the object at hand. And it is because of this state of affairs concerning those practices concerning the body, —that the excellence in these fields is very specific to the field—, because of this people have assumed the same to be true concerning knowledge. And the sciences have become dispersed in to so many different domains, where everyone thinks he has to choose one specific field and specialize in it. The assumption being that you cannot be good at everything, and that like in the arts, excellence in one field makes you less fit to be good in a different field. Today, you see this very clearly in the sciences and philosophy. With philosophy, no one is a philosopher anymore, you are an epistemologist, a logician, a metaphysician, an ethicist, a philosopher of science, etc. And once you have become one of these, this doesn’t make you in any way qualified to speak about any of the other fields. Descartes witnessed this same dispersion happening in his own time, specifically in the late-medieval structure of the university, where one specialized in logic, theology, metaphysics, etc. If you read philosophers from this time-period, from our perspective, we would say that they were still very much generalists, writing treatises dealing with everything. So in this regard, they were much better off than we are. We have become hyper-specialized. The same is of course true in the sciences. No one studies medicine, and no one is a doctor. You are a doctor of micro-biology, a doctor specializing in the gut, a doctor specializing in the brain. You are not a scientist, you are a neuro-scientist, a virologist, etc. Of course, there is a degree to which the increasing complexity of these fields requires specialization. You cannot assume yourself to be capable of doing everything. But what Descartes is critiquing too, is this idea that knowledge of one field makes you worse off concerning other fields. Descartes thinks that knowledge of one thing helps you to better learn something else. It is not like in art, where becoming a fine art painter might make your hands too soft to be a good farmer. No, knowledge of metaphysics helps you to be a better moral philosopher. And knowledge of the gut, helps you have better ideas concerning virology. 

In short, Descartes is critiquing what we can refer to as a ‘reign of specialists’, where each specialist has his own little sub-domain, and no one is allowed to cross domains. The imperative is to stay in your lane. And when something in life occurs which does not pertain to your chosen domain of specialization, the imperative is to not think for yourself, but to listen to the expert of this specific domain. 

Descartes continues:

“Distinguishing the sciences by the differences in their objects, they think that each science should be studied separately, without regard to any of the others. But here they are surely mistaken. For the sciences as a whole are nothing other than human wisdom, which always remains one and the same, however different the subjects to which it is applied, it being no more altered by them than sunlight is by the variety of the things it shines on. Hence, there is no need to impose any restrictions on our mental powers; for the knowledge of one truth does not, like skill in one art, hinder us from discovering another; on the contrary it helps us.” (Rules for the Direction of the Mind, Rule One) 

Descartes wants to strengthen common sense, thought, so that we are ready to deal with whatever it is that might come our way. This is to protect from the dangers of specialization. The specialist is hyper-prepared for the things that pertain to his domain of specialization, but concerning every other question that life throws at him, he is completely unprepared. And thus, he will have to rely on other experts. 

Descartes saw where this was going, and hence the importance of rule 1, which is an explanation of this idea we find here in the title of the Search for Truth. We must think by way of our natural light, to determine “what opinions a honest man should hold on any matter that may occupy his thought.” 

As we said, Descartes’ problem is that he sees that the most knowledgeable people know the least of all. In terms of the problem of specialization, those who know the most about one thing, have come to know the least in general. It is as if the sciences and philosophy are confronted with this problem; ‘how to find the truth amongst this enormous complexity that the world offers?’ And they have sort of given up, and say exhausted; if I can’t grasp the truth anyway, I might as wel just specialize in one specific area, at least in this way I will have a better chance of finding some truth.’ Descartes senses the weakness in this attitude, and he refuses to specialize. He will go on, he will find the truth. He will not give up.

As a later Cartesian will say:

“Where I am, I don’t know, I’ll never know, in the silence you don’t know, you must go on, I can’t go on, I’ll go on.” (Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable, 407) 

There is this incredibly Faustian character to all of Descartes. Confronted with the complexity of this world, shown in all its gravity by the results of the new sciences, Descartes will never allow the thought to enter his mind that things have become too complex for one man to understand them. He doesn’t want to comply to this state of things, he doesn’t just want to focus on one simple thing. No, he wants to know what is universal, he is not interested in some specific truth, he remains interested in the Truth. It might seem like a hopeless undertaking, but Descartes just has this confidence. He knows full well that knowledge is fallible, and that maybe he will be proven wrong, that his models of the world and of man will be proven wrong. But he doesn’t care, he knows that he must try anyways. And he will not be like those who renounce philosophy’s original calling to grasp the whole, simply because the whole has become too complex. He will not specialize, but he will become that much more of a generalist. “I can’t go on, I’ll go on.” For there is no other way. “You must go on”, for the alternative is a reign of specialists, and a human being who is a master in one thing, and thereby has become a slave in everything else. If you cannot train your mind to be ready in whatever circumstances life throws at you, you will have to rely on others, and thereby, you will become a slave. And as you won’t be able to judge whether the specialist helping you is right or wrong, you will become an easy victim for deception. Such specialization isn’t all too bad, if you can trust other people. But this trust, Descartes does not have it. He doesn’t even trust the senses. And living in a time when Europe was at war, he will not allow himself to become the useful idiot of political deception, by becoming a philosophical specialist. 

 We go on with the text. The first line reads:

“A good man is not required to have read every book or diligently mastered everything taught in the Schools. It would, indeed, be a kind of defect in his education if he had spent too much time on book-learning. Having many other things to do in the course of his life, he must judiciously measure out his time so as to reserve the better part of it for performing good actions - the actions which his own reason would have to teach him if he learned everything from it alone.” (The Search for Truth, 400)

Descartes has made his intentions clear. The purpose of philosophy is good action. And a good philosophy is a philosophy that teaches one how to perform good actions, and that leaves one the time to actually perform these actions. How then, could it be in any way good to pursue the reading of every book in existence, and to spend one’s time learning at the academies? There would be very little time remaining to actually act. And, much of what one would learn would be entirely useless when it comes to action. It will be so specialized and abstract, that it has little bearing on real life. Philosophy, Descartes will always say, must lead to good action. This is its end, philosophy serves to give us the truth, so that we can make better decisions, and go through this life with more confidence and certainty, knowing in each of life’s contingencies how to conduct ourselves. And here is the problem that Descartes diagnoses with the philosophy of the Schools. This philosophy too once sought knowledge so that one could live a better life, but pursuing this knowledge with such ardour, somewhere along the way, it has lost sight of its original end: action. And it has come to take the pursuit of knowledge for an end in itself. In this way, philosophy is no longer in the service of life, but has become something that actively harms life. It no longer helps us to act better, rather, it prevents us from acting. 

We read: 

“But he came into the world in ignorance, and since the knowledge which he had as a child was based solely on the weak foundation of the senses and the authority of his teachers, it was virtually inevitable that his imagination should be filled with innumerable false thoughts before reason could guide his conduct.” (ST, 400) 

And here we see Descartes’ problem in all its clarity. It may have been the case at some time in the distant past, that men were lacking in knowledge, in information, and that they had to accumulate it to escape from ignorance. But this is not our problem. Our problem is that we have too much knowledge, but too little thought. We are not born blind, but we are blinded by all the false opinions that the senses and authority fill us with. The problem is not so much that we lack reason, but that our reason has been covered over by what is not reasonable. And thus, Descartes’ project will be to “rid himself of the bad doctrines that have filled his mind.” And only when this has happened, when what is false has been discarded, can we start “to lay the foundations for a solid science.”(ST, 400)

This in itself is interesting. When we look at the great philosophers throughout history, their thought seems always to be composed of two facets. They want to think something great, but in order to do so, they must first do away with the falsities that have been thought previously, and that still cling to them. Hence, there is first an aspect of destruction, of critique, of reaction against the tradition. And only secondly, is there the creation of a new philosophy. We see this with Hume, who critiques all previous philosophy for its superstitions, and proposes that we start over with the new method of empiricism. You see this with Husserl; ‘the life-world has been occluded by theory, we must do away with theory, and start thinking anew.’ Heidegger too; Being has been occluded, so we have to first critique our ways of thinking and speaking in which Being has no place, and only then can we start to think in a new language. And with the post-structuralist philosophers, ‘philosophy always saw identity as more important than difference, we must critique this, and only then can we create a philosophy of difference.’ And, of course, there is Kant, in whom you see this dual method of critique/creation perhaps most strongly. For Kant says, before we can do metaphysics, we must do critique. Philosophy has never been critical, he says. But he doesn’t just want to critique tradition, rather, he wants to critique reason itself. Very powerful. The odd thing is that, when you look at Ancient and Medieval philosophy. As much as there is this aspect of critique, as evident in the figure of Socrates, it is never thematized as much as it is with later philosophers. They don’t make a thing out of reacting against the tradition, out of critiquing it so that they can start anew. Even when they create a very original philosophy, seldom do they bother to elucidate in what way it is a departure from the past, and seldom do they give themselves credit for their originality. Rather, they think that the more they can show how their philosophy is a continuation of the tradition, the more force it will have. 

So where does this explicit thematization of critique enter the history of philosophy? Perhaps he was not the first, but you cannot deny that with Descartes we see one of the first times in which this is thematized as such. He says, to truly think, we must first destroy what has been thought before. Do away with it, don’t bother reading old books. Start anew, by way of your own reason. In The Search for Truth, a little further in the dialogue, we will read, in the voice of Eudoxus(Descartes): 

“For I do not wish to be one of those jobbing builders who devote themselves solely to refurbishing old buildings because they consider themselves incapable of undertaking the construction of new ones.”(ST, 407)

Very powerful, and very violent too. This violent critique of what came before, does it enter philosophy with Descartes? Perhaps. 

The important point is that Descartes sees this critique as necessary. You have to stop listening to the thoughts of others, and you have to start thinking by way of your own reason. There is no other way. Why this necessity? Well, as we have seen, Descartes has noticed that for all his reading, he has only become more ignorant. The reading of tradition as practiced in the Schools, it doesn’t lead anywhere, Descartes notices. And thus, Descartes writes the Search for Truth, to give us a method whereby we can “find within ourselves, without any help from anyone else, all the knowledge we may need for the conduct of life.”(ST, 400) It is not so much that Descartes has a disgust for the philosophical tradition, or that he has any particular desire to do something creative and new. Rather, he feels himself forced to do something new because of the circumstances he finds himself in. He feels he has no choice.

The next part of the introduction is interesting. If someone were to tell you that he has set about discovering the truths of philosophy all by himself, without any recourse to the great thinkers of the past, wouldn’t you laugh at him? It seems like an impossible project, and so much more harder than letting oneself be guided by the greats of the tradition. Doesn’t this show the most terrible audacity? But, Descartes says, it is precisely the opposite that is the case. It is much easier to find the truth by oneself, and much harder to find it by going through the thoughts of others. Why? 

“For the items of knowledge that lie within reach of the human mind are all linked together by a bond so marvellous, and can be derived from each other by means of inferences so necessary, that their discovery does not require much skill or intelligence - provided we begin with the simplest and know how to move stage by stage to the most sublime.” (ST, 400-401)

If we start with the most simple truths, we will see later what these are, they will lead us to other truths, “by a bond so marvellous”. This bond shows us their connection, a connection which appears so evident, that practically no skill is required to make the connection. The connection will appear automatically in a sense. Once set on the right path, reason makes the inference for us so to say. And we need only observe the chain of truths. No special skill or intelligence is required for this, just as no skill is required to see through one’s eyes. But, if we were to take the other method, the method of reading tradition. This, Descartes says, is much more difficult. For we would have to read hundreds of books, written in difficult language, filled with jargon. And then, we have to have a good memory to memorize these things. And then, we still have to combine everything we have learned, and see what fits together and what is to be discarded. Imagine the amount of work this would take! And even if the truth is to be found in books, which he doesn’t deny, Descartes says, “we should need more time for reading them than our present life allows, and more intelligence for picking out the useful material that would be required for discovering it on our own.” (ST, 401) 

In this light, what sounds more stupid and bold? To think that one can think by oneself, or to think that one has the power to learn through absorbing the entirety of past philosophy? 

Indeed, for Descartes it seems so evident that his own method is much more practical than the old method, that he says: 

“I am surprised, indeed, that amongst so many exceptional minds, much better equipped than I to carry out this task, none have had the patience to pick their way through the difficulties. Instead they have nearly all acted like travellers who leave the main path to take a shortcut, only to find themselves lost amongst briars and precipices.”(ST, 401) 

Instead of taking the trouble to follow the chain of reasonings that leads to the truth, most want to take a shortcut. And thus they start reading books, or they go to university, thinking they will have the truth handed to them over the course of a few short years. But they don’t realize, that by taking this route, they have actually made things that much more difficult for themselves. 

There is no way around the way of reason, and all shortcuts lead to difficulties. Descartes places us before a Herculean choice. Do we choose the long and winding road of reading books, an easy way in a sense, where truths are handed to us, but we will never find the fulfilment of actual understanding. Or, do we choose the short and hard road of thinking for ourselves. It might not be as pleasurable as reading books, and it requires that much more concentration. But, it is the easier path, that will undoubtedly lead us to true fulfilment. And it will bring us peace of mind, knowing that we have achieved all we need to know to guide ourselves in each of life’s contingencies. 

Descartes says: “I hope too that the truths I set forth will not be any less well received for their not being derived from Aristotle or Plato.”(ST, 401) Often, we value truths because they come from certain authorities. But Descartes wants his truths to speak for themselves. Their value must not lie in that they come from certain authorities, but in that they come from reason itself. Which is, when it comes to philosophy, the only true authority. He compares his truths with money, which has the same value when it rests in the purse of a peasant, as when it comes from a bank. The truth is valuable and true because it is true, not because it is spoken by someone valuable.

It seems that there is something extremely democratic to Descartes’ philosophy. The truth is open to everyone, it is easy to acquire, and you do not need special qualities to acquire it. This is all very true, and The Search for Truth especially carries forth this democratic ideal for philosophy. However, in later writings, Descartes is more hesitant in describing his philosophy as being ‘for everyone’. For example, in the Discourse on the Method we read, I quote in full: 

“My plan has never gone beyond trying to reform my own thoughts and construct them upon a foundation which is all my own. If I am sufficiently pleased with my work to present you with this sample of it, this does not mean that I would advise anyone to imitate it. Those on whom God has bestowed more of his favours will perhaps have higher aims; but I fear that even my aim may be too bold for many people. The simple resolution to abandon all the opinions one has hitherto accepted is not an example that everyone ought to follow. The world is largely composed of two types of minds for whom it is quite unsuitable. First, there are those who, believing themselves cleverer than they are, cannot avoid precipitate judgements and never have the patience to direct all their thoughts in an orderly manner; consequently, if they once took the liberty of doubting the principles they accepted and of straying from the common path, they could never stick to the track that must be taken as a short-cut, and they would remain lost all their lives. Secondly, there are those who have enough reason or modesty to recognize that they are less capable of distinguishing the true from the false than certain others by whom they can be taught; such people should be content to follow the opinions of these others rather than seek better opinions themselves.” (DM, 118) 

This is important to keep in mind as we will be reading The Search for Truth. It seems that Descartes had more belief in the common man’s ability to arrive at the truth when he was writing the Search. And later, he seems to have lost this belief. Not everyone should try to think for themselves, for many will get even more lost than they would have been if they’d have just followed authority. In The Search there is this boundless enthusiasm; let us all break away from authority and find the truth! But later, Descartes is more hesitant. Why? Did he meet more idiots? Or did he start seeing that his own method was much deeper, harder, and complex than he thought at first? I suppose it is a combination of both. 

But in The Search, there is this boundless confidence in Descartes, that his philosophy will be able to guide everyone to the truth. And it is for this end that he has chosen the format of the dialogue. He says:

“I have done my best to make these truths equally useful to everybody. I could find no style better suited to this end than that of a conversation in which several friends, frankly and without ceremony, disclose the best of their thoughts to each other.”(ST, 401). 

It is because he wants to make his philosophy accessible to everyone, that he has chosen the format of a dialogue. Specifically, a dialogue between two philosophers and a layman. 

We have Eudoxus, the man of natural intellect, in possession of a judgement uncorrupted by false opinion. This man is visited by two friends in his country home. The first is Polyander, the man who has never studied, and spent his days doing manual labour. This is the layman, who feels himself inadequate when it comes to philosophy. And the second is Epistemon, the learned philosopher who has extensive knowledge of what is taught in Schools. Descartes mentions that when reading the conversation, you should let your imagination roam free as concerns the other conversations the men might have had, as well as concerning their surroundings. The Search is meant to display three ways of thinking, in the form of three abstract characters. But it is up to the reader to make this applicable to himself. When you read about Eudoxus, what kind of examples from real life can you think of? Do you know men like this? When you read about the insecure Polyander, do you perhaps recognize yourself? And when you hear about the man of books —Epistemon—, do you know anyone who is like him? Fill it in for yourself, and let your imagination enrich your reading of The Search for Truth. This is Descartes’ advice. We will speak more about this later, but it is important to keep in mind that, it seems, Descartes meant the three characters as universal ‘types’ of thinkers. What kind of thinker do you want to be? This is Descartes’ question to you. 

Next week, a text will appear on the first part of the dialogue, in which the men meet, and the topics of their conversation are introduced. 

Until next time, 

Tólma

Sources:

Beckett, Samuel. Three Novels: Molloy, Malone Dies, The Unnamable. New York: Grove Press, 1958.

Descartes. Œuvres philosophiques II 1638-1642. Edition de F. Alquié. Paris: Garnier, 1967.

Descartes. The Philosophical Writings: Volume II. Translated by John Cottingham, Robert Stoothoff, Dugald Murdoch. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984.

Descartes. Étude du bon sens, La recherce de la vérité, et autres écrits de jeunnesse. (1616 - 1631). Paris: PUF, 2013.

Plato. Complete Works. Edited by John M. Cooper. Cambridge: Hackett, 1997.

1. See also: Nicolas Faret, ‘L’honnête homme ou l’art de plaine à la cour.’ 1630. A 17th century treatise on how to embody the quality of ‘Honnêteté’.