Kitabı oku: «Fundamental Philosophy, Vol. 2 (of 2)», sayfa 27

CHAPTER X.
KANT'S OPINION OF THE ARGUMENT WHICH HE CALLS PARALOGISM OF PERSONALITY

62. Kant attacks the argument founded on the testimony of consciousness in a particular manner in the examination of what he calls the Paralogism of Personality. He gives the argument in this form; "Whatever has the consciousness of its numerical identity at different times is, by this fact alone, a person; this is verified of the soul; therefore soul is a person." Kant uses the word person in a very incorrect sense: it not only means an intelligent substance, but one that is the complete principle of its actions, independently of all connection with any other substance, or a union with a supposition. At any rate, the German philosopher understands here by person an intelligent substance; and in this sense he proposes to combat the argument proving the personality of the soul.

63. "If I wish," he says, "to know by experience the numerical identity of any external object, I apply my attention to that which is constant in the phenomenon, to which all the rest is referred, as a determination to its subject; and I observe the identity of the subject at the time in which the determination changes. I am an object of the internal sense, and time is only the form of this sense; I therefore refer all my successive determinations, and each one of them in particular, to that which is numerically identical, in all time, that is, in the form of the internal intuition of myself. Hence the personality of the soul ought only to be deduced or concluded as a proposition perfectly identical with consciousness in time; consequently, this proposition is valid a priori, because it does not really announce any thing else than that in all the time in which I am conscious of myself, I am conscious of this time as a thing, which is a part of my unity. This is the same as to say: All this time is in me as individual unity, or rather, I am in all this time with numerical identity."

It would have been desirable if Kant had shown why the internal sense of the numerical identity may be expressed by the proposition; all this time is in me as an individual unity, or in this other; in all the time in which I am conscious of myself, I am conscious of this time as a thing, which is a part of my unity. It is true that the numerical unity is perceived in the diversity of time; but it is not true that we are conscious of time as a thing which is a part of us. He is treating of the consciousness of self, as it is found in the greatest part of mankind, who, far from considering time as a thing which is a part of themselves, regard it as a sort of vague extension or succession in which they and all that is variable exist.

It is well known that philosophers themselves dispute on the true nature of time; and that it is the form of the internal sense is an opinion of Kant's, which is not accepted by many others, and which, as I have shown,⁴⁷ he explains badly and proves still worse, although he pretends to have raised his theory to the height of an incontestible doctrine. Whether time is an internal or an external form, whether, even, it is an illusion or a reality, we perceive our numerical identity in its succession; therefore when the German philosopher bases himself on his theory of time, in order to attack the solidity of the argument of consciousness, he rests on a supposition which we are not required to admit, and what is more, he explains this sentiment of identity in terms which no one ever used before him. If he wishes to make time enter into the sentiment of numerical identity, he might say: I find myself in all this time in a numerical identity, or: all this time has passed over me as over an individual unit; but not that we are conscious of time as a thing which is a part of ourselves. If we look to consciousness, we should rather be inclined to believe that time is a sort of successive extension, in which we live, and by which our existence is measured.

64. "The identity of the person," continues Kant, "must inevitably be found in my consciousness; but if I regard myself from the point of view of another (as the object of his external intuition) this other observer conceives me only in time; for, in the apperception, time is not strictly represented except within me; therefore he will not conclude my objective permanence from the me, which he admits, and which accompanies all representations in all time in my consciousness, and in a perfect identity. The time in which the observer places me not being the same which is found in my own sensibility, but that which accompanies his intuition, it follows that the identity which is necessarily joined to my consciousness, is not joined to his, that is, to the external intuition of my subject." It is difficult to understand precisely what Kant means in this passage, and it seems very doubtful whether he understood it himself; however, let us see what can be deduced from it against the permanence of the soul.

The German philosopher admits that the identity of the person is inevitably found in our consciousness; that is, the me finds itself numerically identical in the diversity of time. It is also true that a strange observer conceives the me only in time, that is, if one man reflects on the soul of another man, he conceives it only in time. But this does not show why Kant says that the observer would not infer from this the objective permanence of the soul observed. What would happen would be this. If the man who reflects on the soul of another man believes that same passes in the soul of this man which he perceives within himself, he will infer that the other soul is permanent, for the same reason that he affirms the permanence of his own soul. It is true that as he cannot enter into the consciousness of the other, he can only know it by external marks; but if he is convinced that these marks are sufficient to denote a series of phenomena of consciousness similar to those which he experiences in himself, he will infer that the soul which he observes is as permanent as his own. What does Kant mean then, when he says that the identity which is necessarily connected with my consciousness, is not connected with that of the observer? Who ever doubted this truth? Who ever supposed that the perception of the identity in relation to one's own consciousness is not very different from that which relates to another's? Our own identity is revealed to us by immediate consciousness; the identity of another is shown to us by a series of external phenomena which lead us by reasoning and analogy to the conviction that outside of us there are beings similar to ourselves.

65. "The identity of the consciousness of myself at different times," Kant goes on to say, "is only a formal condition of my thoughts and their connection; but it does not prove the numerical identity of my subject, in which, notwithstanding the logical identity of the me, such a change may take place, as to render it impossible to preserve the identity of this me, which does not prevent our always attributing to it the identical me, which me may still preserve in another state, and even in the metamorphosis of the subject, the thought of the previous subject, and transmit to it all that comes afterwards." This is precisely what Kant ought to have explained; because the phenomenon of the sentiment of identity in the midst of continual variety, is what irresistibly inclines us to believe that the me is something permanent. It is not true that we have only the topical identity of the me, for we are not speaking of the subject of a proposition, but of a real subject, experienced, perceived in the depth of our consciousness.

Kant imagines that he can explain this sentiment of identity with great simplicity. I will try to express his strange opinion in an intelligible manner. Let A, B, C, D, E, … be instants of time, and let a, b, c, d, e, … be thoughts or any other internal phenomena, corresponding to them. At the instant A, the thought a exists. At the instant B, the thought b succeeds. At the instant B, the soul which existed at the instant A, no longer exists. The soul at the instant B, is something entirely new; it is not a but b. The same is true of all the rest. But how, you will say, is it possible for the soul at all these instants to believe itself the same? It is very simple: the subject a transmits the thought to the subject b; b transmits its own and a's to c. Nothing remains identical; but the consciousness of the identity always lasts. Does not such an hypothesis seem truly wonderful and philosophical? What could be imagined clearer and more satisfactory?

The reader may perhaps think that I am jesting, and that I present Kant's opinion under a ridiculous aspect for the sake of combating it more easily; but it is just the reverse; the exposition which I have just made of Kant's philosophy is more serious than his own. These are his words: "One elastic ball striking another in a right line, communicates to the latter its whole motion, and consequently its whole state (considering only their positions in space). Admit now, by analogy with these bodies, certain substances, of which one transmits representations to another, with the consciousness which accompanies them; we may then conceive a whole series of such representations, in which the first communicates its state, and the consciousness of its state to the second; the second communicates its state, together with that of the preceding substance, to the third; the third, in like manner, communicates the states of both of the preceding substances together with its own, and the consciousness which accompanies them to the fourth. The last of the series will then have the consciousness of all the states of the substances which preceded it, as of its own; because these states, and the consciousness of these states have been transmitted to it. Still it will not have been the same person in all these states."

Kant, in trying to refute the psychological argument founded on consciousness, overthrows and destroys the character of consciousness: a transmitted consciousness is not a true consciousness; it is only the cognition of a previous thought.

These substances, existing successively and transmitting their consciousness from one to another, would be something distinct from the act of consciousness, or they would not. If distinct, we must admit a subject of the consciousness, which in itself, and as subject, does not come under the sensible intuition; and consequently we may argue ad hominem, and retort Kant's objection against himself. If these transitory substances are only the act of the consciousness, when the act ceases, nothing remains of the substances, and therefore, there is nothing transmissible.

Transmission supposes something which may be transmitted; if, then, the act of consciousness is transmitted, it must be something permanent in itself, in the midst of the succession of the substances; and this is a very strange conclusion to which the German philosopher is brought by his theory of transmission. All psychologists had said that the substance of the soul is permanent, and its phenomena transitory; now, on the contrary, we find that the transitory is the substance, and that which is permanent is the phenomenon, or the act of consciousness which is transmitted.

66. Perhaps it may be answered that by transmission is not meant the communication of any thing constant, but merely the succession of phenomena united by any tie among themselves. Thus, supposing the instants A, B, C, D, the acts of consciousness, a, b, c, d, corresponding to them, will not be strictly identical in number, but successive, and connected. But this reply, which avoids the necessity of admitting the permanence of the act of consciousness, explains nothing, and makes it incomprehensible, how, at the instant D, for example, there can be consciousness of the acts c, b, a, which there is an irresistible inclination to believe have at bottom something numerically identical. When d exists there is no longer any thing of c left; there is no substance remaining, because, by the supposition there either is no such substance, or it is something transitory; there is no act of consciousness remaining, because a is numerically distinct from c, and besides, we have seen that the permanence of the phenomena cannot be admitted. Therefore it is absolutely impossible to explain or to comprehend how there can be in the act a the representation of c.

67. To say that the phenomena are united by any tie whatever is to elude the difficulty by a foolish play upon words. What is the meaning, in this case, of uniting, of a tie? They are metaphors which if they mean any thing must express the permanence of some thing amid the variety of the phenomena; the tie, the bond, must extend to the various things which it connects and unites: therefore it must be common to them all; and this something, whatever it be, which remains constant in variety, we call substance.

68. The mere succession of the phenomena or acts of consciousness is not sufficient to transmit the belief of the numerical identity; if it were, all men would be conscious of the previous acts of others. Let a, b, be two successive acts of consciousness: if, in order that the act b, which is numerically distinct from a, may represent the numerical identity of consciousness, it is sufficient that b should succeed a; since this succession is met with in the acts of consciousness of different men, it must follow that all men have consciousness of all the acts of the others. Risum tematis? And yet this conclusion is absolutely necessary: it cannot be avoided by saying that there is a form of the internal sense, and that the succession takes place in each man in his respective internal sense, and that therefore the succession of the internal phenomena of one is in a different time, in a different form from what it is in another. The words, respective internal sense, internal form of each man, have a meaning, if we admit something permanent in our interior; but if there is nothing but successive phenomena, the word respective is absurd, because there can be no respective internal sense if there is nothing to which it can refer. Suppose the man M, and the man N be merely a succession of phenomena, and in each one there is only a mere succession: there is the same reason why the phenomena of N should be connected with each other as with those of M. Therefore, if there is a community of consciousness in the phenomena of M, without any other sufficient reason than the mere succession, this community should be found in all the phenomena, because they all have the same sufficient reason.

69. It must be observed that in all this argument, I abstract the nature of the substance of the soul, and only purpose to demonstrate that we must admit something constant in the midst of the variety of the phenomena, and common to them all. Call it a tie, a form, an act of consciousness, or what you will, it is either something real or it is not. If it is not something real, whoever expresses it, employs a word without any meaning: if it is something real, the substantiality of the soul is acknowledged, because a permanent reality is admitted in the midst of the variety of the phenomena. We, who admit this substantiality, do not pretend that the soul can be given in sensible intuition, nor that we can express in an exact definition its internal properties abstracted from the phenomena which we experience in it. What we say is, that we know its real existence, its permanence, and its numerical identity in the midst of the succession and diversity of the phenomena. Therefore from the moment that it is admitted that there is within us something real, permanent, and numerically identical in the midst of diversity, the substantiality of the soul, which we defend, is admitted. Disputes may arise on the distinctive character of its nature; whether it is or is not a force, as Leibnitz maintained, whether its essence consists in thought, as was the opinion of Descartes: but these questions are foreign to the matter now in hand. Is there something real and permanent amid the variety of internal phenomena? If there is not, the consciousness of numerical identity is absurd; if there is, then the substantiality of the soul is demonstrated.

70. "The opinion of some ancient philosophers," says Kant, "that all is transitory and nothing constant in the world, although it cannot be maintained if we admit substances, still it cannot be refuted by the unity of consciousness; because we cannot even judge by consciousness, whether, as something, we are or are not permanent; for we attribute to our identical me only that of which we have consciousness, and thus we must necessarily judge that we are precisely the same in all the durations of which we are conscious." Kant expressly acknowledges that the judgment that we are the same is necessary, that is, that the identity of the me is for us a necessary fact of consciousness. It would be difficult to imagine a confession more injurious and more conclusive against the arguments of the German philosopher. If we are forced to judge ourselves identical, if consciousness tell us so, can we deny or doubt this identity without destroying the fundamental fact of all psychological investigations, and consequently falling into the most complete skepticism? If the testimony of consciousness is not valid, if the judgment to which it necessarily forces us is not certain, what shall we catch hold of in order that we may not be precipitated into the most absolute skepticism? where shall we look for a solid foundation for the edifice of our knowledge?

71. "But," Kant continues, "from the point of view of another, we cannot hold this judgment valid, because, finding in the soul no other constant phenomenon than the representation of the me which accompanies and unites all the other phenomena, we can never decide that this me (a simple thought) is not as fleeting as the other thoughts, which are respectively connected by it." Do not, then, admit that the representation of the me, although essentially representing an identity, is valid; say that, although transitory it necessarily brings us to the illusion of permanence; but draw also all the consequences of this doctrine, and maintain that human reason avails nothing, absolutely nothing; say that recollection is a pure illusion, that although we are necessarily induced to believe that the thought which we now have is the recollection of another previous thought, that all this is pure illusion; that we are not sure that there is the relation of recollection, and that we only know that at present we have the consciousness of a thought which seems to us connected with another previous thought; say too that reasoning has no validity, for all conviction of ideas is impossible without memory; and that, although an internal representation necessarily produces an assent, we must distrust the judgment which necessity demands: say too that all that we think, all that we perceive, all that we will, all that we experience within us, cannot enable us to know any thing, that we are condemned to a complete impotence of acquiring any certainty of any thing; and that the language of every philosopher should be the following: "This now seems so; I am conscious of it; I know nothing further; I experience a necessity of believing it, but perhaps this belief is a pure illusion; I know nothing of the external world; I know nothing either of the internal world; all knowledge is denied me; I myself am only a succession of phenomena which pass away and disappear; an irresistible necessity impels me to believe that these phenomena have a common tie, but this tie is nothing; because when a phenomenon disappears nothing is before it; if I acknowledge any reality, no matter what, I fall into the substantiality of the soul, which I have resolved not to admit; all is illusion, all is nothing, because, as I am not even certain of the facts of consciousness, I am not certain even of the illusion." Who can encounter such consequences?