[Consciousness-Existence]* Because!

Transcending the Language of the Cogito

(Originally submitted to Professor Jeanine Grenberg on 13 April 2014 in an undergraduate philosophy class.)

After doubting everything in his First Meditation, Descartes tries to establish a basis for epistemological certainty. The first fact of which Descartes believes he can be certain is that he exists, and he arrives at this conviction first by using logic and then by appealing to the fact that he is “thinking.” In this paper I will briefly explain Descartes’s first argument for his existence as he puts it in Meditation Two and argue that it begs the question; then I will support Descartes’s existential argument for his existence, the cogito, on the grounds that any axiom that forms the basis of knowing must transcend language.

Descartes’s initial argument for his existence fits the form of a disjunction. Descartes finds himself convinced that “there is absolutely nothing in the world, no sky, no earth, no minds, no bodies,” and he believes he has arrived at this conclusion in one of two ways: either (1) Descartes has “convinced [himself],” or (2) “there is a deceiver of supreme power and cunning who is deliberately and constantly deceiving me” (16–17). On the one hand, if Descartes has convinced himself, then surely he exists. After all, one cannot convince anyone of anything unless one exists. On the other hand, if a demon has deceived Descartes, then Descartes, the object of the demon’s deception, must exist. In Descartes’s words, “The deceiver will never bring it about that I am nothing so long as I think that I am something” (17). After all, an evil demon cannot deceive someone who does not exist. Thus it is clear that there are two ways in which Descartes could have become convinced of the non-existence of the world. And in both of these cases, Descartes “certainly exist[s]” (17). By disjunction elimination, Descartes exists in all possible scenarios, because, in both, his existence follows necessarily from his thinking.

While this argument is elegant, it begs the question. The two halves of the disjunction both presuppose, grammatically, the existence of a Descartes either as a subject who convinces or an object of an evil demon’s convincing. In other words, if it is true that “Descartes has convinced x of y,” then it is presupposed that Descartes existed to do this. Likewise, saying that an evil demon has in fact deceived Descartes presupposes the philosopher’s existence as the object of perception. Therefore, the premise of the argument presupposes the desired conclusion: that Descartes exists. While the conclusion technically follows from the premise, Descartes has not progressed beyond his starting point.

Descartes addresses the logical fallacies of a syllogistic interpretation of his argument in his replies to the second and fifth objector. Here he clarifies that his argument “I think, therefore I am,” relies not on logic but on “something self-evident” (68). This is an important clarification because, if one takes Descartes literally and interprets the phrase “Descartes thinks” as a premise from which the conclusion “Descartes exists” logically follows, then the argument begs the question just as much as his first argument did. For saying that “I am thinking” grammatically assumes the existence of “I” just as it is assumed in saying, “I have convinced myself of no world.” However, if one believes that Descartes does not mean “cogito” literally — that is, he does not intend to communicate a subject-verb relationship but an ineffable experience — then Descartes’s argument actually makes sense. I will explain below.

The efficacy of the existential argument becomes apparent in Descartes’s reply to his sixth objector, who claims that Descartes does “not yet know what [thought and thinking] are” and therefore cannot be certain that they are indeed what is happening (69). Assuming that consciousness is known in the same way as any other fact is known, the objector is right: a person cannot be sure whether she thinks because it would require her to meet certain epistemological criteria for knowing she thinks, knowing that she knows that she thinks, “ad infinitum,” and these criteria are impossible to establish. But the objector fails to realize that one does not know consciousness in the same way as one knows, say, a mathematical truth. Descartes replies by making a distinction between “knowledge that is acquired by means of demonstrations” and knowledge “by that internal awareness which always precedes reflective knowledge” (69). The former refers to both a posteriori and a priori knowledge, which both require demonstrations. The latter refers to that by which a posteriori and a priori propositions are known: awareness itself. This exempts knowledge of thinking from the rules of propositional logic and, consequently, from the sixth objector’s counterclaim.

Knowledge of thinking must be a unique kind of knowledge because all knowledge is contingent upon thinking. I will illustrate this by means of an analogy. Thought is to knowledge as eyes are to sight. We cannot know what thinking is because we cannot, as it were, take off our thinking, set it on the table, and look at it. We cannot see our eyes, though we see because of them. In the same way, we cannot know through demonstration what thought is, but we know what it is because we think. When Descartes says we have an “internal awareness which always precedes reflective knowledge,” he means that reflective knowledge is contingent on internal awareness, just as sight is contingent upon having eyes (69). A sight can be real or imagined — i.e., caused by a real external object or by a supreme deceiver — but the sensation is there all the same. It is self-validating and therefore self-evident.

It is unfortunate that Descartes cannot communicate this self-validating fact of his consciousness without embedding it in a phrase that falsely suggests it is syllogistic in nature. Indeed, Descartes realizes the limits of language when he says that “he does not deduce existence from thought by means of [the] syllogism” that he uses to represent his argument (68). Using verbal propositions poses a problem for Descartes’s cogito because, taken literally, the language suggests that he begs the question; however, it is essential to remember that the verbal representation of Descartes’s conviction originated from a non-verbal awareness that precedes grammatical construction. In other words, Descartes’s proposition fails as an exclusively verbal argument but succeeds when it is approached from a subjective point of view. One must transcend language and empathize with Descartes’s internal awareness.

There are some epistemological problems with my suggestion that one transcend language. One of those problems is the fact that language forms the basis of most of human knowledge and is inextricably related to knowledge. One might argue that transcending language is impossible because of this, but I disagree with this objection on the grounds that it ignores a fundamental assumption of human communication: that we can actually understand each other if we try. If it is impossible to transcend language, then any meaning that a person intends to communicate is irretrievably lost in translation from one nuanced vocabulary to the next; and if we believe this, then there is little point in saying anything to anyone in the hopes of actually being understood, and equally little point in listening to anyone in the hopes of understanding. But this conclusion is absurd; therefore, it is more plausible that we can transcend language.

By transcending language, a person may be able to see Descartes’s argument from the inside out — that is, to analyze not Descartes’s argument as it appears in written sentences but his argument as a subjective thought process. In fact, this is the best way to appreciate Descartes’s conviction that his existence as a thinking thing is self-evident. The self-evidence of Descartes’s awareness implies that it appears to him to be true without the execution of logical steps. As Descartes puts it in his second reply regarding Meditation Two, “When someone says ‘I am thinking, therefore I am, or I exist’, he does not deduce existence from thought by means of a syllogism, but recognizes it as something self-evident by a simple intuition of the mind” (68). But this does not mean that it is illogical; it is merely beyond logic. After all, logic is contingent upon the self-evident awareness that forms the basis of Descartes’s worldview. Therefore, the cogito cannot involve logical steps. This shows why it is acceptable for Descartes’s proof to fail logically: because everything, even logic, depends on the existence of the thinking subject.

In this paper I have explained the failure of Descartes’s logical arguments for his existence and the efficacy of his illogical one. While all communication creates an opportunity for misinterpretation, Descartes’s cogito creates an even greater problem because it represents an ineffable idea: his consciousness. That said, it would probably have been better if Descartes put his cogito as follows:

[Consciousness-existence]* because!

By putting it this way, Descartes would have established that thinking is not something that can be conceived logically. The “because” without a subsequent clause emphasizes that there is no reason besides the ineffable idea represented by “consciousness-existence” that justifies belief in consciousness or existence. The asterisk that follows “consciousness-existence” and the surrounding square brackets indicate that the term represents a greater idea and is not intended for literal interpretation. And finally, the exclamation point after “because” highlights the statement’s emphatic self-evidence. As a non-clause, this alternative translation of the cogito transcends the limits of the subjects and verbs that Descartes’s human audience compels him to use; moreover, it makes it possible to appreciate Descartes’s argument for what it is and not what it appears to be. This kind of analysis is essential for the study of philosophy, for in order to represent a philosopher’s argument in the most charitable light possible, it is necessary to, as it were, get inside her head.