"I think and therefore I am." If I lived at a time when philosophical musings, realisations, and conversations were the rage, then you best believe that there would be a rock with my name on it. I would be perched on my rock, roll my eyes at Aristotle as he rambled about the duty of souls to their city, and tell Plato to fetch me a glass of the finest liquid.
While we are dreaming, why not add Descartes to this mix. "I think therefore I am." It is profound. It is introspective but I am a cynical romantic. The reasoning that Descartes gave for this statement was that as he himself was the one doubting his existence, he must exist. If I hold an apple in my hand and I say am I really holding an apple, then I need another person to corroborate my statement. This goes down the rabbit hole of evidence and other legal nonsense. But if I doubt my own existence, then who is there to corroborate that?
Here is where my cynicism and romanticism comes in.
I am aware of the intention of the statement. But that couldn’t be all there is to it, right? Sure, he claimed to doubt everything, but conveniently, he couldn’t doubt his own doubting. The phrase isn’t a revelation; it’s the philosophical equivalent of finding a mirror and saying, “Ah, there I am.” It’s a neat trick that trades real exploration for self-assured solipsism. In the end, it’s less about discovering truth and more about Descartes patting himself on the back for existing at all. I believe that this line in itself is just a technical start. Because no one really exists for themselves.
The man himself reached to the conclusion by claiming that if a demon has to deceive him and his views on the external world then he must have to exist to be deceived. To be skeptic about the world and doubt his perception of the world, he must exist. The premise itself is limited to his take on the world. But does his existing to perceive the world itself matter?
The romantic in me wants to take it a step further. If thinking defines existence, then what about feeling? Thinking may prove existence, but it is feeling that makes it worthwhile.
Sitting on my rock and sipping the finest liquid, I would probably confidently derail the topic and ask that maybe it is the doubt in our brains that pushes us to act. Am I really there if there is no one to perceive me? Does it matter that I exist just because I know I do? Descartes goes into justifying his entire point by saying therefore God exists and that is when I would leave the rock.
This is where my philosophical cocktail starts to get messy. Descartes is sipping his wine, Plato is lecturing Aristotle on the concept of forms, and I’m just there, flinging my hands around and shouting, “none of us exist for ourselves. None of us exist and remain fighting to exist because we believe that God is protecting us. We exist and act because we want to be perceived. Whether a loving gaze perceives it or just remembered out of jealousy and anger. It wouldn’t matter if I know I did something with my life if there is not one person who can probably corroborate my existence. I am not saying fame is what we search for, but even if one person believes that I exist, then I can perceive myself to be doing something.”
As I say this, I am well aware of the scowling, judgemental looks of the snooty intellectuals who are all searching for the greater good and are definitely above the normal feelings of wanting to belong, but even if you are the least sociable person with no social media, and no intention of ever being the life of the party, do you not feel that you exist for something more than yourself? Do you believe in your existence just because you are capable of doubt but because you have this cocktail of confusions, feelings and wonders? If I ever doubt what I am doing and whether my existence is even real, it is certainly not my doubts and beliefs that assure me of myself but of how I may translate to people.
Don’t know if my boy Descartes would let me sit on the rock again. But on the other hand Descartes handed humanity the key to its own essence, elevating the act of thinking to an affirmation of life. It’s the ultimate romantic gesture to the universe, whispering that the soul remains alive, vibrant, and endlessly curious even in doubt and uncertainty.
