An Arduous Undertaking

Descartes’ First Meditation was the first piece of philosophical writing I ever read. It was the first set text for my degree; until that moment, applications to study Philosophy at various universities notwithstanding, I hadn’t actually done any philosophy. Consequently, it has a particular standing in my philosophical universe.

Re-reading it, it’s interesting to see how my perceptions have changed—and sharpened—in the intervening years. Ostensibly an escalating expression of sceptical doubts, the First Meditation very cleverly sets the scene for Descartes’ philosophical project: the creation of firm foundations for scientific knowledge through the exercise of pure reason.

After all, if we doubt the evidence of our senses, on what other basis can anything be known? For Descartes, the answer is through reasoning alone.

Descartes’ rationalism, of course, founders on the various refutations—from Gassendi to Frege—of his arguments purporting to show the existence of God. However, it is striking just how compelling his initial line of thought is—that the world could be all illusion, and we would be none the wiser. The fact that as soon as we go down the pub with our mates such fears melt away is neither here nor there: the sceptical challenge to the beliefs we cling to will always remain lurking in the background. There is no true certainty, only the shifting sand.

The Meditations on First Philosophy are not merely a set of philosophical arguments—they are also a literate and compelling exploration of the process of reflection. The concluding thought of the First Meditation is that of the difficulty of maintaining philosophical vigilance, of the burden imposed by such thoughts, and it’s one that I find resonates for me more strongly than ever.

Just as a slave who was enjoying in his sleep an imaginary freedom, fears to be awakend when he begins to suspect his liberty is only a dream, and conspires with these pleasant illusions to be deceived by them longer, so I fall back of my own accord into my former opinions, and fear to awake from this slumber lest the laborious wakeful hours which would follow this peaceful rest, instead of bringing any light of day into the knowledge of truth, would not be sufficient to disperse the shadows caused by the difficulties which have just been raised.