“I might have got on better with [Cicero’s] philosophical
works, but when I saw that he doubted everything, I decided that I knew as much
as he did, and that I didn’t need anyone else’s help if I was going to be
ignorant,” (Voltaire, Candide, p. 73).
These words, spoken by the Venetian nobleman, humorously
capture my own feelings on philosophy.
The study of philosophical works, such as Voltaire’s own, is an ironic
process to me. I feel as though I learn
nothing from them, yet my mind’s vault of ideas is expanded with each
philosophy I consider. My time spent
studying philosophies of men seems to have been wasted yet, at the same time,
necessary.
I am not familiar with the Cicero mentioned in this passage, but I have
studied briefly the ideas of another man who seemed as though he “doubted
everything.” In an effort to determine
what entities truly exist, Rene Descartes began a thought process by denying
the existence of everything unless he could prove it. His thinking yielded the famous phrase, “I
think, therefore I am.”
As I read Descarte’s essays, I felt as Voltaire’s nobleman
feels. If this man doubts everything
around him, is he really any smarter than I?
Descartes did prove helpful to me for at least one
reason. He led me to identify myself as
a pragmatist. I believe those entities
and principles exist which are useful in my current state. For example, the stove top really exists
because when I place my hand on the hot burner, it hurts. I felt it, and I find it beneficial for me to
remove my hand. Therefore, it
exists.
Take the principle of repentance as a second example. Repentance is real to me because as I engage
in the process, I feel relieved of guilt and filled with peace. That feeling is real to me. Repentance is useful, beneficial to my own
existence. Therefore, the principle is
real and true.