PART TWO - The Cartesian Cogito and Kant's Copernican Revolution: At the Origins of Modernism
Understanding "Modern Philosophy": An Overview
The meaning is obvious: today's philosophy is presumed to be more advanced than yesterday's, just as we speak of modern physics, medicine, and technology. Who would prefer the ancient over the contemporary here? No one. At this point, the Cartesians, with a skillful propaganda move, right after Descartes' death, worked tirelessly by all means to convince the public, the philosophical community, and all of humanity that Descartes was the founder of modern philosophy, to accredit the fame and authority of their beloved master.
The Cartesians understand their philosophy as an epochal, definitive, and irreversible transition of humanity or human reason from apparent knowledge to real knowledge, from the ancient and naive conception of reality to the mature and critical conception. According to them, before Descartes, no one could assert anything with certainty, but everything was doubtful, and humanity lacked the criterion of truth.
In the history of humanity, Descartes ultimately discovered in the cogito the secure principle and criterion of truth and knowledge, so that today, relying on Descartes' cogito, we have forever departed from naive Greco-medieval scholastic realism. We can proceed with certainty that God is with us and within us, assured of continuous and infinite progress in all fields of science toward eternal happiness.
For them, anyone who remains steadfast in the previous conception of knowledge is a person left in the dust, with an immature mind, incapable of critical rigor and of understanding the universal and irreplaceable value of "modern philosophy." The modernists were enchanted by this hallucination and argued that the Church if it wanted to to stay current, had to adopt the so-called modern philosophy.
It must be said, truthfully, that while Pascendi condemned well the errors of the modernists, it did not acknowledge the good in their innovative insistence. Thus, the Catholic reaction toward them was sometimes exaggerated, and even innocent individuals, such as Father Lagrange, Cardinal Ferrari, and Father Juan Arintero, were affected.
Nevertheless, the fact remains that the Cartesians put so much effort into the task of mystifying the terminological significance of modern philosophy that, using effective propagandists and satisfying our inclination for intellectual cunning, abundantly gratified by the Cartesian method, they succeeded in imposing the designation of "modern philosophy" even on the historians of philosophy, who, when speaking of modern philosophy, mean Cartesian philosophy.
But I will go further: until the time of the Second Vatican Council, even Thomistic critics of Descartes, without realizing they were cutting off their nose to spite their face, declared opposition to "modern philosophy," meaning Cartesian philosophy, in support of the "ancients," namely Aristotle, Thomas, and Jesus Christ, portraying themselves as backward-looking, when instead, as Maritain noted, St. Thomas, far from belonging to the past, is the prophet of the future of philosophy, theology, and the Church.
Indeed, it is solely the past that prepares the future, understood as that past which is eternal, certainly not the past that is past. This is the realm of the backward-looking. But if we seek true progress and not modernism, we must align ourselves with the sages who preceded us, with the doctrine of Aristotle and Thomas, as the Church has urged us to do for eight centuries. We must embrace the heritage of sacred and immutable truths presented to us and transmitted by the masters of truth, which the Church calls sacred apostolic Tradition.
True philosophy, true knowledge, is the reinforcement and augmentation of what we already know, what those who preceded us know. True philosophy, true wisdom, and true attainment of truth are to learn from those who know more than we do and to have faith in those deemed credible.
In philosophy, it can be wise and obligatory to start afresh a work done by those who came before us concerning a particular question - or an underwhelming effort - that did not achieve the hoped-for or promised results. It is wisdom to abandon a path that proves to be a dead end in reaching a given goal. But it is folly to pretend to question or to begin anew the very criteria or principles we employ, which inevitably guide our assessment of the results achieved or the outcomes of our endeavors.
Of this criterion or principle, it is simply necessary to take note and defend it resolutely against those who deny it, who, in addition, by doing so, only contradict themselves. Therefore, it cannot be replaced, nor could a superior one be obtained, just as nothing surpasses excellence, nor can anything that ranks higher than the first.
Here lies the folly of Descartes: in wanting to undertake this absurd task, despite the reproach of reason itself and natural conscience, despite Aristotle and Thomas together with Christ teaching us that we cannot serve two masters and that we must distinguish yes from no.
Let us also remember what is similar to the modern is the new. Given that modernity and novelty are considered advancements over the past, it's evident that they must be embraced. However, we must clarify the concept of "new." In philosophy, as in any case, we must differentiate between the new that supplants the old and the up-to-date that renews the ancient.
Upon hearing about the "founder of modern philosophy," how can one not feel tempted to know this incomparable genius, this light of nations? But then what do his supporters mean by this title? Modern in what sense? Not in the sense that previous philosophy was less advanced, but in the context where, before Descartes, human reason worked not within the horizon of certainty, science, and truth, but of appearance and illusion.
I do not mean Plato, I do not mean Aristotle, I do not mean the doctrine of the Church, I do not mean St. Thomas, the Holy Fathers, and Doctors, but not even the prophets and Jesus Christ were sure of knowing the truth with certainty and possessing science because they lacked the proper methodology, which Descartes offered to advance humanity groping in the dark with his famous Discourse on Method.
How Descartes Pioneered Modern Philosophy
The charm of Descartes lies in the fact that he seems to have finally discovered and incontrovertibly exalted the power of our thought and will, seems to give us the certainty of truth, the certain principle of knowledge, as well as to make us know the dignity of our conscience and the essence of our freedom.
From him arose German idealism of the 19th century [1], which even today lives on in modernism, so that, although the Thomists demonstrated already in the last century the idealistic derivation of the immense disasters of that time in the field of society and individuals, unfortunately, German idealism continues to be successful. Hence the danger that such troubles will recur, worse than those of the past and irreparable, given the existence of much more destructive military armaments than those of the last century.
Correcting Descartes is not the work of backward-looking individuals; it is not a return to a philosophy - realism - "pre-critical" that proved false and illusory, but rather it is to save civilization, it is to demonstrate true critical sense, it is a return to lost truth, enhancing oneself to advance in truth; otherwise, with the effects of Cartesianism renewing themselves, we will find ourselves even more in trouble.
What still needs to be remembered today is that Descartes, with unhealthy presumption, according to his declarations, believed that all of humanity that preceded him was devoid of that principle of certainty and that foundation of knowledge, as well as the method to reach the truth, which he finally came to establish with the famous cogito.
Recounting what he had observed in his studies at La Flèche before the discovery of the cogito, he begins with this definition of philosophy: "Philosophy provides the means to speak plausibly about all things and to impress the less educated." [2] This is not philosophy but embodies the craft of the sophist, the charlatan, and the exhibitionist, all in pursuit of success.
This is perhaps the portrait that Descartes paints of his philosophizing, certainly not of true philosophizing, which is the investigation and rational demonstration of the first causes of reality based on the self-evident first truths and principles of reason, with a view to the construction of the perfect work of reason, which is the knowledge of the first cause, God. Let us read this declaration by Descartes.
"I will not say anything about philosophy, except that, seeing that it has been cultivated by the most eminent minds that have lived for many centuries now, and that, nevertheless, there is still not found therein anything on which there is no dispute and consequently that is not doubtful, I considered almost false everything that was only plausible." [3]
Are these the words of a sensible man? Another nonsensical consideration:
"Often there is not as much perfection in works composed of many pieces and made by the hands of different masters as in those in which only one has worked." [4]
What would become of philosophy if we stopped at Aristotle alone, and for generations of thinkers did not reach St. Thomas? What would become of medicine if it had stopped at Hippocrates or cosmology if it had stopped at Ptolemy? How would the Treccani Encyclopedia have been possible if a powerful array of collaborators had not produced it?
Following this arbitrary universal doubt, Descartes decides to rid himself of all his convictions and opinions:
"I could not do better, once and for all, than to remove them to put in their place others that are better or even the same when I have adjusted them to the level of reason. I firmly believed that, by this means, I would be able to regulate my life much better than if I had built it only on old foundations and relied only on the principles with which I had been persuaded in my youth without ever examining whether they were true." [5] p.28.
What purpose is this? To doubt all the principles of reason, faith, and morality? For what reason? And how do you resolve doubt? On what principles? Destroy reason to rebuild it from scratch? What sense does it make? If you doubt reason, how do you resolve doubt except by using reason? The folly of such an idea is evident.
Let's now look at another gem:
"My design has never extended beyond seeking to reform my thoughts and to build on a foundation all my own. If I very much liked my work, I show you the model here; it is not with this that I wish to advise anyone to imitate it."
The tone of modesty here is beautiful as if Descartes wanted to present us with the model of his optional personal journey toward knowledge. But it is only false modesty because, from what he says in context, it is evident that he wants to show us what he considers to be the true and certain method of knowledge for human reason as such, not just for his reason, the path of truth for all humanity, in overcoming uncertainty and illusion from time immemorial until he arrives in the world. And rightly so, his followers have interpreted, that Descartes' proposal has not been viewed as a questionable personal choice, not in the least, but the mandatory path of human reason toward the truth, precisely the foundation of "modern philosophy."
Also, this declaration is highly intriguing. At the age of 41, Descartes believes he is now aware of the opinions on the wisdom of the greatest sages of humanity. But none satisfies him. Thus, he states:
"I could not choose anyone whose opinions seemed to me to be preferable to those of others, and I found myself forced to try to guide myself."
Since no one before him had succeeded in discovering the truth, he feels charged with the formidable task of providing a secure foundation for philosophy himself.
Even the assertions in the Meditations on First Philosophy that prepare the exposition of the cogito are no less unfounded:
"We can doubt generally of all things and particularly of material things, at least until we have other foundations in the sciences, than those we have had so far." [7]
This is a false assertion. We can try to do it, but we immediately realize it is absurd, since this doubt assumes that we have in mind things, we know what things are, and therefore things exist outside of us, around us, and in front of us, independent of us. So what sense does it make to doubt what is evident?
Then we find a clear fallacy in this discourse:
"I have sometimes proved that the senses were deceivers, and it is a rule of prudence never fully entrust those who have previously deceived us.” [8]
But how do I realize that in a given case the senses are wrong, if not because I possess within the senses themselves the criterion to evaluate when they don't err, but they tell me when I'm wrong and how much I miss? How do I know that I am mistaken when I see the stick in the water broken? Simply by pulling it out of the water. It's the same sense that realizes when it's wrong. If I want to know if a sensation is right or wrong, I must employ my senses more discerningly.
The famous hypothesis of the "evil genius" is absurd. Let's consider the worst hypothesis, this certainly possible one, which can approach that of Descartes, and that is the devil’s deception. Such deception can indeed happen. However, it does not concern speculative knowledge, but decisions and moral certainty. The devil can make us see a decision as good that is imprudent or sinful. But now our problem is not the goodness of moral judgment but the truth of the senses and intellect, where there is no devil, no "evil genius" to consider.
But one could add at this point, assuming and not conceding the possibility of the evil genius, why couldn't it deceive us even when we believe we are thinking? Certainly! If we're committed to fully embracing universal doubt, why omit consideration of thought? We should then ask ourselves: am I sure I'm thinking? Do I know what is the essence of thinking? Think about what?
Another absurdity is Descartes' belief that he is mistaken in believing that the ideas of things outside of him correspond effectively to things outside of him:
"I had the habit of believing that, thinking I perceived very clearly, even though I did not perceive it at all, that there were things outside of me from which those ideas proceeded, and to which they were entirely similar." [9]
Descartes does not understand the intentional or representative value of the idea or concept. He does not understand in what sense they are a likeness or image of the thing. He is convinced that the notion is a thing itself, such as an oil portrait of Napoleon.
Now, I, who have never seen Napoleon in person, how can I know if this portrait resembles Napoleon or not? To judge, I would have to make a comparison. But unfortunately, I have not been able to see Napoleon, being born two centuries later. But then, even in front of an oil portrait of a person, how can I know if it portrays a person who existed or exists or if it is an invention of the painter?
From here arises Descartes' problem of clarifying whether those things that ideas present to me as existing outside of me exist or if I am the only existing entity. In fact, for him, the starting point of my knowledge is that I exist. But how do I know that there is a world around me? Where do I derive it from? Descartes will invoke the truth of God manifested within me through my innate conception of Him. But Fichte, drawing from the Cartesian cogito (I think) present in Kant, to its logical extreme consequences, will realize that there is no need to resort to this useless deus ex machina. It suffices to elucidate the intelligible content of the ego cogito.
Thus Fichte realized that the ultimate meaning of the Cartesian ego cogito, of my being, is not limited by a predicate. Which means that ego sum means I am in an absolute sense [10]. But then, if I am the existing Being, if I am Everything, there is no problem admitting that only I exist and that nothing exists outside of me; indeed, it is necessary to say so. And if there is something that I am not, if there is a non-I, it must be posited by me in me. And that is exactly what Fichte says when he says that the ego posits the non-I in the I.
But we must say that this is not the right way to approach the problem of the truth of knowledge. The problem arises like this: I have in mind possibly in memory things that I have seen around me. How is it possible that they are in me and at the same time outside of me? What causes this wonder?
It is the fact that I have formed an idea of those things: it is through this idea that I grasp the truth of those things. Therefore, the doctrine of ideas and the ideas themselves are not a primary datum of knowledge but a conscious content that I become aware of, assisting me in elucidating how I acquire knowledge. The first act, the starting point of knowing, is knowing things outside of me.
Only later, reflecting, do I become aware of this immaterial presence of things in me, and only at this point, to explain this mysterious and wonderful fact, do I form the doctrine of ideas as means to know or images of reality. If consciousness is full of contents, this is due to the immaterial or spiritual entry into it of the intentional and intended forms of external things represented in concepts. But if I did not start from contact with them, my consciousness would be empty, much like that of a newborn just entering the world.
Let's take the example of the sun and the moon. Based on what has been said, we must remind Descartes with common sense that if I have in mind the image of the moon or the sun, it is because I have seen the moon or the sun. According to him, however, I am sure to have the image of the moon and the sun, but I am not sure that the moon and the sun exist outside of me. I have to prove it.
He reasons, or rather, he goes astray in this way: so far, it has been taken for granted that the moon and the sun are up there in the sky, so it has always been believed that it is unnecessary to prove it. It has always been thought that it is obvious that they are up there in the sky. But - here is another discovery by Descartes -, given that the senses deceive, I must, to know whether the sun and the moon are there or not, resort to a different and sure way, to a higher and more certain principle.
And what could it be? Here is Descartes' formidable epochal discovery: this principle is my consciousness of existing, it is that I know I exist. Another decisive step: in my consciousness, I find the idea of God, which ensures that outside of me, the sun and the moon correspond to my idea of them. Here is the foundation of modern philosophy.
Descartes, therefore, did not realize that the question: "how can I know if there is a moon or a sun outside of me?" is simply absurd. And yet Descartes pretends to start from this false observation to substantiate the cogito's stance and demonstrate that the moon and the sun exist.
Fichte will understand what is behind this insane idea of establishing the being of things based on the decision of one's ego: there is the desire to replace God in the creation and direction of the world. Probably Descartes, Catholic as he was, did not realize what his concept of the ego cogito implied. Nevertheless, Fichte will not fail, as I mentioned earlier, to draw the extreme logical consequences and offer the full explanation of the Cartesian ego. Therefore, it is not without reason that Fichte was accused of atheism. And for this reason, Fabro rightly says that the Cartesian cogito leads to atheism.[11]
Descartes believes that this universal doubt is justified by the fact that humanity up to his time did not yet possess a foundation of the sciences, that is, a criterion and method sure to access truth and certainty. Having noticed, according to him, the distressing state of humanity, he is convinced that he has provided for the replacement of the established principles of knowledge - which had proven inadequate in ensuring truth and understanding - with a new, decisive principle, more reliable than any other, discovered by himself, and that is the famous cogito.
It must be said instead that in reality the principles of knowledge are known to human reason as such, since the world began, inherently known to every human individual simply by belonging to this species. The philosopher merely must comprehend them thoroughly, take note of them, clarify and explain them, and defend them against those who deny them.
This work had already been done according to Aristotle and scholastic philosophy promoted by the Church, whose greatest exponent is St. Thomas Aquinas. To solve his doubt, Descartes might have found a scholastic education adequate, assuming in him a normal intelligence. It would have been enough, like every normal student of philosophy, to study what Aristotle and S. Thomas teach about it, as do all those who learn healthy philosophy, so I wonder what he had learned from the most famous school of philosophy and theology in Europe or what they had ever taught him, thus creating so much confusion for him? Alternatively, he may have deliberately cultivated confusion to regulate his life not based on truth, but in his way, as he affirms.
And his so-called "provisional morality" is ultimately what, if not a hypocritical expedient to hide the disruptive practical consequences of his philosophy, libertine consequences that he never felt like explaining, but which would have been well highlighted by the hedonism and liberalism of the moralists of "modern philosophy"?
In reality, reason, and experience tell us that yes, we can theoretically form this doubt, we can do it, but we are not authorized to take it seriously and to exercise it. Indeed, doing so is foolishness and a refusal to adapt our thinking to reality to find our thinking not on reality, but on the will to be ourselves the founders of reality.
End of Part Two (2/5)
Fr. Giovanni Cavalcoli OP
Fontanellato, April 8, 2024
Source:
https://padrecavalcoli.blogspot.com/p/il-cogito-di-cartesio-e-la-rivoluzione_5.html
[1] A remarkable historical synthesis, though somewhat colored by an overly sympathetic interpretation, is presented by Nicolai Hartmann, "La filosofia dell’idealismo tedesco," Mursia Editore, Milan 1983.
[2] Discorso sul metodo, Publisher La Scuola, Brescia 1957, p.13.
[3] Ibid., p.19.
[4] Ibid., p.25.
[5] Ibid., p.28.
[6] Ibid., p.30.
[7] Ibid., p.59.
[8] Meditazioni metafisiche, Laterza Editions, Bari, 1968, p.71.
[9] Ibid., p.95.
[10] Like the "I Am" of Ex 3:14.
[11] Therefore, the Decree of the Holy Office in 1663, which placed Descartes' works on the Index, "donec corrigantur," from the Dictionnaire de théologie catholique, under the entry DESCARTES, was not inappropriate.