Sunteți pe pagina 1din 16

Rene Descartes

Rationalism
In epistemology, rationalism is the view that "regards reason as the chief source and test of
knowledge"[1] or "any view appealing to reason as a source of knowledge or justification".[2] More
formally, rationalism is defined as a methodology or a theory "in which the criterion of the truth is
not sensory but intellectual and deductive".[3] Rationalists believe reality has an intrinsically
logical structure. Because of this, rationalists argue that certain truths exist and that the intellect
can directly grasp these truths. That is to say, rationalists assert that certain rational principles
exist in logic, mathematics, ethics, and metaphysics that are so fundamentally true that denying
them causes one to fall into contradiction. Rationalists have such a high confidence in reason that
proof and physical evidence are unnecessary to ascertain truth – in other words, "there are
significant ways in which our concepts and knowledge are gained independently of sense
experience".[4] Because of this belief, empiricism is one of rationalism's greatest rivals.
Different degrees of emphasis on this method or theory lead to a range of rationalist standpoints,
from the moderate position "that reason has precedence over other ways of acquiring knowledge"
to the more extreme position that reason is "the unique path to knowledge".[5] Given a pre-modern
understanding of reason, rationalism is identical to philosophy, the Socratic life of inquiry, or the
zetetic (skeptical) clear interpretation of authority (open to the underlying or essential cause of
things as they appear to our sense of certainty). In recent decades, Leo Strauss sought to revive
"Classical Political Rationalism" as a discipline that understands the task of reasoning, not as
foundational, but as maieutic. Rationalism should not be confused with rationality, nor with
rationalization.
In politics, Rationalism, since the Enlightenment, historically emphasized a "politics of reason"
centered upon rational choice, utilitarianism, secularism, and irreligion[6] – the latter aspects' anti-
traditionalism and antitheism helped politicians to adopt pluralistic rationalist methods regardless
of ideology.[7][8]

Mind Vs. Body


I. INTRODUCTION
The purpose of this study is to examine Rene Descartes’ claims to knowledge, his epistemological
method for grasping that which he considers to be knowledge, his assertion of the existence of a
"God," and the impact of his thought upon modern philosophy and science.
Rene Descartes is considered the "Father of Modern Philosophy." His system of thought
represents a break away from all former systems of philosophy, and particularly, away from
Aristotle and Aquinas. Unlike Aristotle, who explained human existence in terms of "prime matter,"
and saw human beings as single unified entities, Descartes held that one has a mind and a body,
each of which is a separate and distinct "substance." Unlike Aquinas, who argued for the tabula
rasa model of the human mind—a mind that resembles a blank recording device at birth, and
records data from sensory experience—Descartes argued that humans are born with innate
ideas—ideas that exist in the mind at birth.
II. DESCARTES (1596-1550)
Descartes lived in an age that followed the renaissance—a time when people found a new
appreciation for classical philosophy, art and literature. The renaissance was a revival of
appreciation for the potential of the human mind, intelligence and human happiness here on this
earth. The spirit of the age was in stark contrast to all of the previous centuries of church-
dominated culture and thought which imagined human beings to be loathsome, wretched
creatures tainted by "original sin," and whose proper function in life consisted of crawling on their
knees in shame, self-disgust and humility. The Roman Catholic Church still had a great deal of
political power over humankind during this age, although the "protestant reformation" of Luther,
Calvin and their followers was in play. The "reformation" consisted of a schism or a breach in the
once unified Church of Rome. Luther and Calvin accused the church of misleading the believers
of Christianity, and made accusations of moral corruption within the church leadership. They
encouraged people to reject the Catholic doctrines, and instead, to accept the new Protestant
interpretations of scripture. Descartes, a Roman Catholic follower from cradle to grave, was
concerned not only about the schism in the church, but the rise of skepticism—the denial that we
can be certain of anything—and he sought to build a foundation for knowledge that could be held
with all certainty, in opposition to the claims of the skeptics. Descartes maintained that we must
challenge or suppress our premises, assumptions or underlying notions about everything.
Because our senses sometimes deceive us, then perhaps we are wrong about everything that we
imagine to be knowledge. And further, our reasoning as such may be wrong, evidenced by, for
example, the multitude of religionists who imagine themselves to hold correct notions of a divine
being, or god, each accusing the other of holding incorrect theological opinions, some of which
are supposed to be punishable by damnation in hell. If we are deceived or in error about any one
thing, then all of our notions may be wrong, and must be called into question if we hope to gain
any knowledge whatsoever that can be held with absolute certainty.

III. DESCARTES’ METHOD


Descartes maintains that because our senses sometimes deceive us, then we must have no
recourse to them if we are to discover knowledge that can be held with certainty. Instead, says
Descartes, we must rely on human reason alone in our quest for genuine knowledge. This use of
reason alone, without reference to human sense, is known today as "Rationalism," and Descartes
is known as the "Father of Rationalism." In his Meditations, Descartes discounts the value of
empirical knowledge, and he claims to have dispensed with all of his previously held notions, at
least, for the purpose of his experiment in seeking reliable knowledge that can be held with
certainty. He claims to have "detached his mind from his body," and he asks the reader to follow
his reasoning as he begins his pursuit. Descartes claims that he is starting with a "clean slate" of
mind with no knowledge whatsoever, and his goal is to discover whether anything can be grasped
and discovered. In this way, Descartes sets himself up as a kind of moderator, or an impartial,
disinterested and neutral judge with respect to the detection of truth. Here, the reader might have
many objections and concerns about whether Descartes can fairly be said to be starting with a
clean slate of mind resembling the tabula rasa model that Aquinas and other great philosophers
have argued for, but we will address those concerns in a later section, and for the time being allow
Descartes to present his case. It is worth noting that Descartes, a life long Roman Catholic, did
not intend to actually discard his previously held opinions. On the contrary, he proposed to retain
those opinions if they met the scrutiny of the principles that he made for his test of validity.
Descartes’ four principles are as follows:
1. Accept nothing as true except clear and distinct ideas that cannot be doubted.
2. In order to arrive at reliable conclusions that can be held with certainty, divide each problem
into many simpler parts, and test each part, rather than the problem as a whole.
3. Proceed in order from the simplest or easiest parts first, gradually working toward the complex
without jumping to the complex.
4. Make complete and comprehensive surveys and checks to make sure that nothing has been
overlooked or omitted.
According to Descartes, by following these principles, we can arrive at certainty in matters
pertaining to metaphysics and philosophy, just as we can arrive at certainty in mathematics.
Descartes continues by suggesting that he cannot prove that he isn’t dreaming even though he
believes that he is awake. And since dreams often contain phantasmical, chimerical and
imaginary beings that are not to be found in what we think to be the reality of our waking lives,
then we must not assume that the things that we experience in our waking lives are any more real
than the things in our dreams unless and until our Cartesian experiment leads us to certainty as
to which, if either, has reference to reality. And if all that we have just mentioned is not enough to
induce doubt in the mind of the reader, then Descartes urges us to consider another prospect:
perhaps some evil demon is tricking us into forming incorrect opinions and even into a false belief
that we exist. In his Meditations, Descartes declares that "I will suppose that, not god who is the
source of all truth but some evil mind, who is all powerful and cunning, has devoted all their
energies to deceiving me." (22) And continuing he writes:
"setting aside everything which is subject to the least doubt as if I had had found that it was
completely false. I will follow this strategy until I discover something that is certain or, at least,
until I discover that it is certain only that nothing is certain….I will assume that everything else I
see is false….I convinced myself that there is nothing at all in the world, no sky, no earth, no
minds, no bodies." (23, 24)
So here is Descartes in his complete and utter state of doubt, that is, at least as far as he is able
to doubt. But for all his doubt, Descartes finds that, no matter how hard he tries, there is one idea
that he cannot doubt—the idea that he exists—and with respect to this he writes:
Is it not therefore true that I do not exist? However, I certainly did exist, if I convinced myself of
something. There is some unidentified deceiver, however, all powerful and cunning, who is
dedicated to deceiving me constantly, therefore, it is indubitable that I also exist, if he deceives
me….This proposition ‘I am, I exist’ is necessarily true. (24)
This is Descartes’ starting point, and the base of all of the later knowledge that he is to consider
supportable—his utter certainty that he exists—and this, his first principle, is "Cogito ergo sum,"
or "I think, therefore I am." In a later section of our examination of Descartes, we will address this
claim, but for now, let us follow his logic.
Since Descartes is certain that he exists, then he feels confident that he can discover more truths
and whether other things exist in addition to his own existence. And in his attempt to discover
further knowledge, Descartes holds that his mind is the standard of all truth and certainty.
Descartes’ 2nd assertion from his 1st principle is that truth lay in clarity and distinction, and that
any idea that is necessarily true must present itself to the mind precisely as it really exists, so that
there can be no chance of an erroneous, distorted or false notion or mental picture of that idea.
Descartes held that to have a clear and distinct idea of something one must have a precise
understanding of what it is that one has an idea of. Later, in our examination of the critics of
Descartes’ claims, we will find that some of the philosophers that followed Descartes used this
notion of clear and distinct ideas to stir up great controversy on many things including ideas that
are held as sacred by followers of Christianity. For now, however, we will allow Descartes to
present his case.
In his 3rd assertion, Descartes maintains that no being has, in itself, the explanation of its own
existence, and since nothing can be the explanation of itself, then there must be some other
explanation. As an imperfect being who has certainty of his own existence, Descartes maintains
that this knowing, or certainty, is more perfect than doubting. But where did this notion of knowing
being more perfect than doubting come from? Since we are imperfect, Descartes asserts, then,
a perfect being must exist. And God must be that perfect being, and he must have implanted the
idea of his perfection in our minds as an innate idea. In this way, our imperfect minds can know
some things with certainty, and this ability must be a gift from God. And God, being perfect, cannot
deceive us, and we can be certain that God exists, and that we can have certainty with respect to
other things, and we can have confidence in the human understanding in general. Again, the
readers are likely to have a bountiful collection of objections, but let us bear Descartes’ assertions
for just a little longer, and defer our critiques to a later section of our study, and in politeness,
allow Descartes to finish presenting his case.

IV. CARTESIAN DUALISM


At this point, Descartes is positively certain of two things—that he exists and that some absolutely
perfect being exists, and Descartes uses the word "God" to denote this perfect being whose
existence is guaranteed to the satisfaction of Descartes, having passed the scrutiny of his tests.
These and only these two things are held as knowledge by Descartes at this junction of his voyage
into the realm of human cognition.
To continue in his quest for even more knowledge that can be held with all certainty and beyond
all doubt, Descartes finds it necessary to "suppose there is some very powerful and, if I may say
so, evil deceiver who is committed to deceiving me in everything possible." (25) Proceeding from
his indisputable certainty that he thinks and that he therefore exists, a frightening thought occurs
to him. "I am, I exist. That is certain. But for how long? As long as I think, for it might possibly
happen if I ceased completely to think that I would thereby cease to exist at all." (25) Exactly what
is it then that he who thinks and therefore exists is? This is the next question that Descartes feels
he must find the correct answer to. He is more than a mere collection of limbs, he thinks. And he,
as a soul, is not a mere wind or gas or some such thing. "I am therefore, precisely only a thinking
thing, that is, a mind soul, intellect or reason—words the meaning of which was formerly unknown
to me. I am a thinking thing." (25) Descartes does not address the question of how he discovered
language in the intellectual vacuum in which he claims to be conducting his experiment in human
cognition. And without language it is doubtful that he would be able to think in such abstract terms
because language gives us the ability to condense concepts into manageable units like words.
All previous philosophers and theologians held that a human being is a single unified entity, the
form of which is a soul or a mind, and which, when combined with prime matter becomes a human
being. But Descartes made a sharp distinction between the mind (soul) and the body. After some
cogitation on the fact that wax, when subject to heat, changes in shape, volume and in other
aspects that are usually considered properties, Descartes finds that "the wax itself" remains. To
the modern reader this may seem to echo Plato’s notion of "the idea itself," or the form or essence
of a thing that was said to exist independently from this world of particulars and properties. And
for Descartes, "the soul itself" is said to exist independently from the body and independently from
anything whatsoever that is related to the senses, just as something called wax exists even if all
of its distinguishing characteristics are stripped away from "the wax itself" when heat is applied to
it. And here we arrive at Descartes amazing new discovery—that he has a mind and a body—
and that these two "substances" are separate and distinct from one another. Descartes claims
that the body and the mind are two different "substances" and that they belong to two separate
realms of existence. The body belongs to the material universe that we perceive, but the mind or
soul belongs to a nonmaterial realm that has nothing to do with the physical world. The mind, he
says, exists independently from the material universe as we know it.

V. DESCARTES’ IMPACT ON MODERN PHILOSOPHY AND SCIENCE


The philosophy of Descartes had a profound impact on the philosophers and theologians of his
day. Descartes’ philosophy is said to have paved the way for modern science. Although he argued
for gaining knowledge from reasoning alone, without experience through the senses, his
philosophy had a different outcome. Later philosophers such as the Empiricists denied that there
is any such nonmaterial realm and they denied Descartes’ assertion that there is a distinct
substance existing independently from the senses or from the physical world. The Materialists
argued that the universe is nothing more than matter in motion moving through space. They
maintained that the mind is nothing more than a process of physical phenomena just as breathing
and defecating are natural processes, and that there is no warrant for asserting the "the soul
itself," as existing independently in some realm. Scientists like Galileo and Isaac Newton had the
most penetrating minds, and they studied the physical world with intense passion. The scientific
discoveries of these two men had a profound impact on philosophers and theologians. Their
scientific findings seemed indisputable and cast severe doubt on the authenticity of religious
scriptures that assert things that are known to be inaccurate and contrary to scientific knowledge.
The motion of the earth around the sun is just one example of scientific discovery that infuriated
the church, and scientists such as Galileo were imprisoned in the church dungeons for daring to
discover things that run contrary to scripture. After Isaac Newton made his superior scientific
discoveries, many philosophers found scripture to be utterly false and fantastic, while others
hustled to find ways to interpret them in parabolic, figurative and poetic ways in the attempt to
save religion from ruin in what came to be known as the age of reason. Thomas Woolston is one
example of the many authors who were imprisoned and threatened for offering metaphorical and
parabolic theological opinions of scripture.
VI. OBJECTIONS TO DESCARTES
Modern critics of Descartes cite the following objections against his principles, notions and
assertions:
In Religion and Science, Bertrand Russell writes:
"Natural knowledge only enables us to recognize a thing by its attributes….Under Locke’s
influence, his followers took a step upon which he did not venture: they denied the whole utility of
the notion of substance….there is no need to suppose an entirely unknowable core, in which his
attributes inhere like pins in a pin-cushion. What is absolutely and essentially unknowable cannot
even be known to exist, and there is no point in supposing that it does….The conception of
substance, as something having attributes, but distinct from any and all of them was…rejected by
Hume, and has gradually been extruded both from psychology and from physics." (115, 116, 117)
Russell goes on to show how David Hume argued against Immanuel Kant’s spin on Descartes’
and Plato’s assertions of "things in themselves." Here is Russell’s take on this matter:
There is obviously some sense in which I am the same person as I was yesterday…if I see a man
and hear him speaking, there is some sense in which the I that sees is the same as the I that
hears. It thus came to be thought that, when I perceive anything, there is a relation between me
and the thing: I who perceive am the "subject," and the thing perceived is the "object." Hume
boldly denied that there was such thing as the subject, but this would never do. If there was no
subject, what was it that was immortal…had free will…and was punished in hell? Kant…thought
he found a way out…Things-in-themselves, according to Kant, are not in time and space [but]
there is a real Self and a real thing-in-itself, neither of which can be observed. Why then, assume
they exist? Because this is necessary for religion and morals. (119, 120)
Now, as for Descartes’ evil demon who spends all of his time traveling all over the world tricking
people into forming incorrect opinions such as the belief that they exist, it is difficult to imagine
that anyone really believes this kind of stuff in this modern age. But one need merely listen to any
televangelist on the radio or television to find that millions of people still hold such notions. Evil
demons, we are told, whisper falsehoods into our souls. Their goal is said to be to trick us into
forming incorrect theological opinions about God and salvation, and anyone who fails to form
correct opinions on theological points of debate is allegedly going to be punished in a supernatural
furnace called hell after they have passed away. One modern writer offers relief to those who
suffer from such notions of a malevolent universe. Nathaniel Branden, an expert psychologist and
writer of many volumes of self-help books on self-esteem and psychological well-being writes:
A mind is healthy to the extent that its method of functioning is such as to provide man with the
control over reality that the support and furtherance of his life require….Reason, the faculty that
identifies and integrates the material provided by the senses, is man’s basic tool of survival…one
must never attempt to fake reality…one must never attempt to subvert or sabotage the proper
function of consciousness….a consciousness torn by conflict and divided against itself…is an
unhealthy consciousness….no control is possible in a universe which, by one’s own concession,
contains the supernatural, the miraculous and the causeless, a universe in which one is at the
mercy of ghosts and demons…no control is possible if the universe is a haunted house. (Rand
40, 41, 42)
Philosophers before and after Descartes’ time argued against the notion of innate ideas. Thomas
Aquinas went so far as to argue that if we had innate ideas of the existence of God, then proof of
his existence would be irrelevant and faith would be impossible because we would have direct
knowledge and experience of that God. John Locke, a superior philosopher of the seventeenth-
century, also argued very effectively against innate ideas in his Essay Concerning Human
Understanding. Earlier, we saw that Descartes maintained that to have a clear and distinct idea
of something one must have a precise understanding of what it is that one has an idea of. Locke,
a philosopher who claimed to be a Christian, used Descartes’ argument just mentioned in his
rebuttal to a clergyman who was angry at Locke for writing The Reasonableness of Christianity,
a book in which Locke uses scripture to show that in the Bible, no other belief distinguishes a
believer from an unbeliever but this one belief only—the belief that Jesus is the Messiah, and that
everyone who formed this one and only belief was "saved," with no other beliefs required
whatsoever. The clergy was furious and accused Locke of posturing as a Christian while secretly
being an atheist. Rev. Mr. Edwards, A clergy-man, denied Locke’s thesis on salvation in a series
of pamphlets. In "Some Thoughts on the Causes and Occasions of Atheism, especially in the
present Age," this clergyman argued that there were many beliefs required for salvation; not just
one. For salvation, said the clergyman, one must believe in the "trinity." Locke used Descartes’
argument here—the argument that to have an idea of something or believe something, one must
have a clear and distinct idea of what it is that is believed. Locke asked the clergyman if salvation
requires that the believer have a clear and distinct idea of the exact nature of the "trinity,"
"transubstantiation," and other obscure creeds in order to obtain salvation. The clergyman
maintained that absolutely everything the Bible is plain, evident and illustrious and that it cannot
be read without being believed—a direct contradiction of his initial position at the beginning of his
attack on Locke when he claimed that Christianity is divine mystery which is not always clear, etc.
Others criticize Descartes’ allegation that God must exist because Descartes has an idea of God
in his mind even though he detached his mind from his senses. These critics point out that to hold
such a position is to hold the position that thousands of gods must exist since thousands of
different minds have ideas of thousands of different gods.
Many philosophers point out that Descartes smuggled a great deal of knowledge obtained from
sense experience into his mind, regardless of his claims to have dispensed with all of his
knowledge and detached his mind from his body.

VII. CONCLUSION
Descartes can be appreciated for suggesting that once in a lifetime we should all cast away our
unexamined notions that we have previously taken uncritically, without question and held as
knowledge. Descartes asks us to challenge all of those ideas and try to empty our minds of all
preconceived notions and to act as neutral judges with respect to what is true. And for this we are
indebted to Descartes because this is precisely what the philosophers and scientists did that
followed him. Unlike Descartes, however, many scientists and philosophers did not end up
discovering the existence of any innate ideas, gods or evil demons, though others tried to defend
the possibility of such things. Some philosophers tried to rescue religion from science, and offered
the hypothesis that there is nothing mysterious in the scriptures, and that there is nothing contrary
or above reason in them. John Toland’s Christianity Not Mysterious, for example, is a case in
point. But this would be to take away one of the theologians’ most useful arguments against those
who pointed out contradictions in the scriptures, and the theologians simply would not have it. It
was seen as imperative to hold onto the statement that those contradictions in the scriptures are
divine mysteries which are above and beyond our ability to comprehend. Thomas Woolston, in
his Six Discourses on the Miracles of Our Saviour, attempted to show that the scriptures ought to
be interpreted metaphorically and poetically. Woolston dared to express his opinion that the
resurrection and other biblical notions are merely metaphorical truths and that to interpret
scripture literally leads to outright absurdities. This outraged the clergy. Woolston was
conveniently fined, imprisoned and declared insane by the clergy.

Cogito, ergo sum


cogito, ergo sum, (Latin: “I think, therefore I am”), dictum coined in 1637 by René Descartes as a
first step in demonstrating the attainability of certain knowledge. It is the only statement to survive
the test of his methodic doubt. The statement is indubitable, Descartes argued, because even if
an all-powerful demon were to try to deceive me into thinking that I exist when I do not, I would
have to exist for the demon to deceive me. Therefore, whenever I think, I exist. Furthermore, he
argued, the statement “I am” (sum) expresses an immediate intuition, not the conclusion of
dubious reasoning, and is thus indubitable. Whatever I know, I know intuitively that I am.

Methodic Doubt
Methodic doubt, in Cartesian philosophy, a way of searching for certainty by systematically
though tentatively doubting everything. First, all statements are classified according to type and
source of knowledge—e.g., knowledge from tradition, empirical knowledge, and mathematical
knowledge. Then, examples from each class are examined. If a way can be found to doubt the
truth of any statement, then all other statements of that type are also set aside as dubitable. The
doubt is methodic because it assures systematic completeness, but also because no claim is
made that all—or even that any—statements in a dubitable class are really false or that one must
or can distrust them in an ordinary sense. The method is to set aside as conceivably false all
statements and types of knowledge that are not indubitably true. The hope is that, by eliminating
all statements and types of knowledge the truth of which can be doubted in any way, one will find
some indubitable certainties.
In the first half of the 17th century, the French Rationalist René Descartes used methodic doubt
to reach certain knowledge of self-existence in the act of thinking, expressed in the indubitable
proposition cogito, ergo sum (“I think, therefore I am”). He found knowledge from tradition to be
dubitable because authorities disagree; empirical knowledge dubitable because of illusions,
hallucinations, and dreams; and mathematical knowledge dubitable because people make errors
in calculating. He proposed an all-powerful, deceiving demon as a way of invoking universal
doubt. Although the demon could deceive men regarding which sensations and ideas are truly of
the world, or could give them sensations and ideas none of which are of the true world, or could
even make them think that there is an external world when there is none, the demon could not
make men think that they exist when they do not.
John Locke
Empiricism
Empiricism is a theory which states that knowledge comes only or primarily from sensory
experience.[1] One of several views of epistemology, the study of human knowledge, along with
rationalism and skepticism, empiricism emphasizes the role of experience and evidence,
especially sensory experience, in the formation of ideas, over the notion of innate ideas or
traditions;[2] empiricists may argue however that traditions (or customs) arise due to relations of
previous sense experiences.[3]
Empiricism in the philosophy of science emphasizes evidence, especially as discovered in
experiments. It is a fundamental part of the scientific method that all hypotheses and theories
must be tested against observations of the natural world rather than resting solely on a priori
reasoning, intuition, or revelation.
Empiricism, often used by natural scientists, asserts that "knowledge is based on experience" and
that "knowledge is tentative and probabilistic, subject to continued revision and falsification."[4]
One of the epistemological tenets is that sensory experience creates knowledge. The scientific
method, including experiments and validated measurement tools, guides empirical research.

The Blank Slate Analogy


The phrase generally used to summarize Locke’s theory is “tabula est rasa,” or “the slate is clean.”
This refers to his assertion that the origin of our thoughts is not innate, but that it is through
observations of our surroundings and our reflections on these observations. The “blank slate”
analogy illustrates his view that we are born with no instinctive ideas whatsoever, and that our
minds are consequently filled as we accumulate various experiences in life. Locke’s empiricism
focuses on the origin of ideas, rather than the other branch of empiricism, which concentrates on
justification of knowledge and beliefs. There are subtle differences between the two, namely that
the second deduces that what we know, we get from our experiences with the world, while the
first is concerned with how ideas originate. However, both branches share the common theme
that experience and sense perception are the main proponents of knowledge.
This contrasts with the some of the ideas behind rationalism, another philosophical theory that
maintains that knowledge about the world can be acquired through other means besides just
sense experience. The rationalist concept of knowledge gained a priori, or before experience,
disagrees with the empiricist claims that knowledge only exists a posteriori, or coming from
experience. Rationalists often believe that people are capable of formulating ideas solely using
reason by itself. For example, a rationalist might claim that mathematical proofs were developed
using only reason, while an empiricist like Locke would say that the proofs were resulting from a
combination of experiences (both external and internal). This concept of external versus internal
experience will be discussed in the next section.
Ideas from Experience
First, Locke eliminated one bad answer to the question. Most of Book I of the Essay is devoted to
a detailed refutation of the belief that any of our knowledge is innate. Against the claims of the
Cambridge Platonists and Herbert of Cherbury, Locke insisted that neither the speculative
principles of logic and metaphysics nor the practical principles of morality are inscribed on our
minds from birth. Such propositions do not in fact have the universal consent of all human beings,
Locke argued, since children and the mentally defective do not assent to them. Moreover, even if
everyone did accept these principles, their universality could be better explained in terms of self-
evidence or shared experience than by reference to a presumed innate origin. (Essay I ii 3-5)
Innatism is the refuge of lazy intellectual dictators who wish thereby to impose their provincial
notions upon others. Besides, Locke held, our knowledge cannot be innate because none of the
ideas of which it is composed are innate.
As the correct answer to the question, Locke proposed the fundamental principle of empiricism:
all of our knowledge and ideas arise from experience. (Essay II i 2) The initially empty room of
the mind is furnished with ideas of two sorts: first, by sensation we obtain ideas of things we
suppose to exist outside us in the physical world; second, by reflection we come to have ideas of
our own mental operations. Thus, for example, "hard," "red," "loud," "cold," "sweet," and
"aromatic" are all ideas of sensation, while "perceiving," "remembering," "abstracting," and
"thinking" are all ideas of reflection. ("Pleasure," "unity," and "existence," Locke held, are ideas
that come to us from both sensation and reflection.) Everything we know, everything we believe,
every thought we can entertain is made up of ideas of sensation and reflection and nothing else.
But wait. It isn't true that I can think only about what I myself have experienced; I can certainly
think about dinosaurs (or unicorns) even though I have never seen one for myself. So Locke's
claim must be about the ultimate origin of our ideas, the source of their content. He distinguished
between simple and complex ideas and acknowledged that we often employ our mental capacities
in order manufacture complex ideas by conjoining simpler components. My idea of "unicorn," for
example, may be compounded from the ideas of "horse" and "single spiral horn," and these ideas
in turn are compounded from less complex elements. What Locke held was that every complex
idea can be analyzed into component parts and that the final elements of any complete analysis
must be simple ideas, each of which is derived directly from experience. Even so, the empiricist
program is an ambitious one, and Locke devoted Book II of the Essay to a lengthy effort to show
that every idea could, in principle, be derived from experience.

A Special Problem
Locke began his survey of our mental contents with the simple ideas of sensation, including those
of colors, sounds, tastes, smells, shapes, size, and solidity. With just a little thought about specific
examples of such ideas, we notice a significant difference among them: the color of the wall in
front of me seems to vary widely from time to time, depending on the light in the room and the
condition of my eyes, while its solidity persists independently of such factors. Following the lead
of Galileo and Boyle, Locke explained this difference in corpuscularian fashion, by reference to
the different ways in which the qualities of things produce our ideas of them.
The primary qualities of an object are its intrinsic features, those it really has, including the "Bulk,
Figure, Texture, and Motion" of its parts. (Essay II viii 9) Since these features are inseparable
from the thing even when it is divided into parts too small for us to perceive, the primary qualities
are independent of our perception of them. When we do perceive the primary qualities of larger
objects, Locke believed, our ideas exactly resemble the qualities as they are in things.
The secondary qualities of an object, on the other hand, are nothing in the thing itself but the
power to produce in us the ideas of "Colors, Sounds, Smells, Tastes, etc." (Essay II viii 10) In
these cases, our ideas do not resemble their causes, which are in fact nothing other than the
primary qualities of the insensible parts of things. The powers, or tertiary qualities, of an object
are just its capacities to cause perceptible changes in other things.
Thus, for example, the primary qualities of this rose include all of its quantifiable features, its mass
and momentum, its chemical composition and microscopic structure; these are the features of the
thing itself. The secondary qualities of the rose, on the other hand, include the ideas it produces
in me, its yellow color, its delicate fragrance; these are the merely the effects of the primary
qualities of its corpuscles on my eyes and nose. Like the pain I feel when I stick my finger on a
thorn, the color and smell are not features of the rose itself.
Some distinction of this sort is important for any representative realist. Many instances of
perceptual illusion can be explained by reference to the way secondary qualities depend upon
our sensory organs, but the possibility of accurate information about the primary qualities is
preserved, at least in principle. The botanical expert may be able to achieve detailed knowledge
of the nature of roses, but that knowledge is not necessary for my appreciation of their beauty.

Complex Ideas
Even if the simple ideas of sensation provide us with ample material for thinking, what we make
of them is largely up to us. In his survey of ideas of reflection, Locke listed a variety of mental
operations that we perform upon our ideas.
Notice that in each of these sections (Essay II ix-xii), Locke defined the relevant mental operations
as we experience them in ourselves, but then went on to consider carefully the extent to which
other animals seem capable of performing the same activities. This procedure has different results
from Descartes's doctrinal rejection of animal thinking: according to Locke, only abstraction (the
operation most crucial in forming the ideas of mixed modes, on which morality depends) is utterly
beyond the capacity of any animal. (Essay II xi 10)
Perception of ideas through the senses and retention of ideas in memory, Locke held, are passive
powers of the mind, beyond our direct voluntary control and heavily dependent on the material
conditions of the human body. The active powers of the mind include distinguishing, comparing,
compounding, and abstracting. It is by employing these powers, Locke supposed, that we
manufacture new, complex ideas from the simple elements provided by experience. The resulting
complex ideas are of three sorts: (Essay II xii 4-7)
Modes are complex ideas that combine simpler elements to form a new whole that is assumed to
be incapable of existing except as a part or feature of something else. The ideas of "three,"
"seventy-five," and even "infinity," for example, are all modes derived from the simple idea of
"unity." We can understand these ideas and know their mathematical functions, whether or not
there actually exist numbers of things to which they would apply in reality. "Mixed modes" similarly
combine simple components without any presumption about their conformity to existing patterns,
yielding all of our complex ideas of human actions and their value.
Substances are the complex ideas of real particular things that are supposed to exist on their own
and to account for the unity and persistence of the features they exhibit. The ideas of "my only
son," "the largest planet in the solar system," and "tulips," for example, are compounded from
simpler ideas of sensation and reflection. Each is the idea of a thing (or kind of thing) that could
really exist on its own. Since we don't understand all of the inner workings of natural objects,
Locke supposed, our complex ideas of substances usually rely heavily on their secondary
qualities and powers—the effects they are observed to have on ourselves and other things.
Relations are complex ideas of the ways in which other ideas may be connected with each other,
in fact or in thought. The ideas of "younger," "stronger," and "cause and effect," for example, all
involve some reference to the comparison of two or more other ideas.
Locke obviously could not analyze the content of every particular idea that any individual has ever
had. But his defence of the empiricist principle did require him to show in principle that any
complex idea can be derived from the simple ideas of sensation and reflection. The clarity, reality,
adequacy, and truth of all of our ideas, Locke supposed, depend upon the success with which
they fulfill their representative function. Here, we'll consider one of the most significant and difficult
examples from each category:

Immanuel Kant
Analytic / Synthetic Judgments
In the Prolegomena to any Future Metaphysic (1783) Kant presented the central themes of the
first Critique in a somewhat different manner, starting from instances in which we do appear to
have achieved knowledge and asking under what conditions each case becomes possible. So he
began by carefully drawing a pair of crucial distinctions among the judgments we do actually
make.
The first distinction separates a priori from a posteriori judgments by reference to the origin of our
knowledge of them. A priori judgments are based upon reason alone, independently of all sensory
experience, and therefore apply with strict universality. A posteriori judgments, on the other hand,
must be grounded upon experience and are consequently limited and uncertain in their application
to specific cases. Thus, this distinction also marks the difference traditionally noted in logic
between necessary and contingent truths.
But Kant also made a less familiar distinction between analytic and synthetic judgments,
according to the information conveyed as their content. Analytic judgments are those whose
predicates are wholly contained in their subjects; since they add nothing to our concept of the
subject, such judgments are purely explicative and can be deduced from the principle of non-
contradiction. Synthetic judgments, on the other hand, are those whose predicates are wholly
distinct from their subjects, to which they must be shown to relate because of some real
connection external to the concepts themselves. Hence, synthetic judgments are genuinely
informative but require justification by reference to some outside principle.

Kant supposed that previous philosophers had failed to differentiate properly between these two
distinctions. Both Leibniz and Hume had made just one distinction, between matters of fact based
on sensory experience and the uninformative truths of pure reason. In fact, Kant held, the two
distinctions are not entirely coextensive; we need at least to consider all four of their logically
possible combinations:
Analytic a posteriori judgments cannot arise, since there is never any need to appeal to
experience in support of a purely explicative assertion.
Synthetic a posteriori judgments are the relatively uncontroversial matters of fact we come to
know by means of our sensory experience (though Wolff had tried to derive even these from the
principle of contradiction).
Analytic a priori judgments, everyone agrees, include all merely logical truths and
straightforward matters of definition; they are necessarily true.
Synthetic a priori judgments are the crucial case, since only they could provide new information
that is necessarily true. But neither Leibniz nor Hume considered the possibility of any such case.
Unlike his predecessors, Kant maintained that synthetic a priori judgments not only are possible
but actually provide the basis for significant portions of human knowledge. In fact, he supposed
(pace Hume) that arithmetic and geometry comprise such judgments and that natural science
depends on them for its power to explain and predict events. What is more, metaphysics—if it
turns out to be possible at all—must rest upon synthetic a priori judgments, since anything else
would be either uninformative or unjustifiable. But how are synthetic a priori judgments possible
at all? This is the central question Kant sought to answer.
A priori / a posteriori
The terms “a priori” and “a posteriori” are used primarily to denote the foundations upon which a
proposition is known. A given proposition is knowable a priori if it can be known independent of
any experience other than the experience of learning the language in which the proposition is
expressed, whereas a proposition that is knowable a posteriori is known on the basis of
experience. For example, the proposition that all bachelors are unmarried is a priori, and the
proposition that it is raining outside now is a posteriori.

The distinction between the two terms is epistemological and immediately relates to the
justification for why a given item of knowledge is held. For instance, a person who knows (a priori)
that “All bachelors are unmarried” need not have experienced the unmarried status of all—or
indeed any—bachelors to justify this proposition. By contrast, if I know that “It is raining outside,”
knowledge of this proposition must be justified by appealing to someone’s experience of the
weather.

The a priori /a posteriori distinction, as is shown below, should not be confused with the similar
dichotomy of the necessary and the contingent or the dichotomy of the analytic and the synthetic.
Nonetheless, the a priori /a posteriori distinction is itself not without controversy. The major
sticking-points historically have been how to define the concept of the “experience” on which the
distinction is grounded, and whether or in what sense knowledge can indeed exist independently
of all experience. The latter issue raises important questions regarding the positive, that is, actual,
basis of a priori knowledge — questions which a wide range of philosophers have attempted to
answer. Kant, for instance, advocated a “transcendental” form of justification involving “rational
insight” that is connected to, but does not immediately arise from, empirical experience.

This article provides an initial characterization of the terms “a priori” and “a posteriori,” before
illuminating the differences between the distinction and those with which it has commonly been
confused. It will then review the main controversies that surround the topic and explore opposing
accounts of a positive basis of a priori knowledge that seek to avoid an account exclusively reliant
on pure thought for justification.

CONTEMPORARY PERIOD
Phenomenology
Phenomenology is the study of structures of consciousness as experienced from the first-person
point of view. The central structure of an experience is its intentionality, its being directed toward
something, as it is an experience of or about some object. An experience is directed toward an
object by virtue of its content or meaning (which represents the object) together with appropriate
enabling conditions.
Phenomenology as a discipline is distinct from but related to other key disciplines in philosophy,
such as ontology, epistemology, logic, and ethics. Phenomenology has been practiced in various
guises for centuries, but it came into its own in the early 20th century in the works of Husserl,
Heidegger, Sartre, Merleau-Ponty and others. Phenomenological issues of intentionality,
consciousness, qualia, and first-person perspective have been prominent in recent philosophy of
mind.

Edmund Husserl
Phenomenological Epoche/Bracketing
Epoché (ἐποχή, epokhē "suspension"[1]) is an ancient Greek term which, in its philosophical
usage, describes the theoretical moment where all judgments about the existence of the external
world, and consequently all action in the world, is suspended. One's own consciousness is subject
to immanent critique so that when such belief is recovered, it will have a firmer grounding in
consciousness. This concept was developed by the Greek skeptics and plays an implicit role in
skeptical thought, as in René Descartes' epistemic principle of methodic doubt. The term was
popularized in philosophy by Edmund Husserl. Husserl elaborates the notion of
'phenomenological epoché' or 'bracketing' in Ideas I. Through the systematic procedure of
'phenomenological reduction', one is thought to be able to suspend judgment regarding the
general or naive philosophical belief in the existence of the external world, and thus examine
phenomena as they are originally given to consciousness.[2]

Intentionality
The most important influence that Brentano had over Husserl was the concept of intentional
consciousness. During the later 1800s and early 1900s, the concepts of positivism and
reductionism were just beginning to become in vogue in philosophical discourse; the former
concept is an epistemic turn which rejects metaphysical explanation in favor of scientific analyses,
the latter reduces any mental processes to the completely neurological. The concept of
intentionality rejects both of these methods without falling back on purely metaphysical
speculation. Intentionality states that consciousness must always be about something. Take as a
linguistic example, "I see a green tree," or "She hears the loud bells".

Martin Heidegger
Daisen
The concept of Dasein
For Heidegger, the human subject had to be reconceived in an altogether new way, as “being-in-
the-world.” Because this notion represented the very opposite of the Cartesian “thing that thinks,”
the idea of consciousness as representing the mind’s internal awareness of its own states had to
be dropped. With it went the assumption that specific mental states were needed to mediate the
relation of the mind to everything outside it. The human subject was not a mind that was capable
only of representing the world to itself and whose linkage with its body was merely a contingent
one. According to Heidegger, human being should instead be conceived as Dasein, a common
German word usually translated in English as “existence” but which also literally means “being
there.” By using it as a replacement for “consciousness” and “mind,” Heidegger intended to
suggest that a human being is in the world in the mode of “uncovering” and is thus disclosing
other entities as well as itself. Dasein is, in other words, the “there”—or the locus—of being and
thus the metaphorical place where entities “show themselves” as what they are. Instead of being
sealed off within a specially designed compartment within a human being, the functions that have
been misdescribed as “mental” now become the defining characteristics of human existence.

EXISTENTIALIST
Jean Paul Sartre
"Man is condemned to be free"; this statement by Sartre both in his major philosophical work,
"Being and Nothingness" (BN) and his famous talk, "Existentialism is a Humanism" has profound
implications for all human beings. It involves such aspects of human existence as: free will and
determinism; moral values; the notion of God; and relationships with others. Before discussing
freedom specifically I will look at two of Sartre's basic premises; "existence precedes essence",
and his division of the world into two distinct categories, 'being-in-itself' and `being-for-itself'. I
believe an understanding of these two concepts is necessary to fully appreciate the profundity of,
"man is condemned to be free".
Fundamental to Sartre's whole philosophy is his insistence that "existence precedes essence"
in the human being. He uses the analogy of an artisan creating a utilitarian object such as a paper-
knife to show that non conscious objects are made (or exist, such as a rock) with an inbuilt
essence. This essence or nature determines their life and consequently they are not free to act
otherwise. Similarly if a human is created by God, (a supernal artisan) then the human's essence
has been determined (Kaufmann 1975, p.348).

S-ar putea să vă placă și