Skepticism

II.  Skepticism in Ancient Thought

The skeptics were a group of philosophers who questioned whether it was possible to arrive at the truth.  There are two main schools of skeptics in the ancient world.  The Academics were a group of skeptics living around the time of Plato (3rd century BC) who took their starting point from Socrates' dictum, "All I can know is that I know nothing." They argued that since there is no way to distinguish between true perceptions and illusions, the best that human beings were capable of was probable true belief.  The only thing, they claimed, that human beings could have certainty about was that they couldn't be certain of anything.

The other school of Skepticism was known as Pyrrhonian Skepticism (named after the founder of this school, Pyrrho of Elis who lived in Alexandria during the 1st century BC).  The Pyrrhonians were even more extreme than their earlier counterparts, denying that human beings could have any certainty at all...even about  the impossibility of certainty itself.

III.   The Pyrrhonian Skepticism of Sextus Empiricus

During the 2nd century AD, a Greek physician by the name of Sextus Empiricus gave a famous description of Pyrrhoist doctrine in his work, Outlines of Pyrrhoism.  The work was so influential in the 16th and 17th centuries, that it led to a revival of skeptic thought and played a large role in the development of modern philosophy.

At the beginning of this work, Sextus contrasts the philosophical approach of the Skeptics to that of traditional philosophers such as Aristotle or Epicurus, whom he dismisses as mere dogmatists (those who claim to have discovered the TRUTH).  The Academics are also dogmatic, he suggests, because they too claim to have grasped the Truth---namely , that there is no truth.   Unlike these other philosophers, the Skeptics are perpetual investigators (the term skeptic, in fact, comes from a Greek verb meaning "to carefully examine"), always doubting whether the truth can be apprehended, but necessarily open to the possibility, at least, that this might be the case. [Outlines 1.1].

You are now ready to read a selection from the first book of Sextus Empiricus' Outlines:

 

 

 
 

Sextus Empiricus

Outlines of Pyrrhoism

 

BOOK I

 

Of the Main Difference Between Philosophic Systems

 

The natural result of any investigation is that the investigators either discover the object of their search or deny that it is discoverable and confess it to be inapprehensible or persist in their search. So, too, with regard to the objects investigated by philosophy, this is probably why some have claimed to have discovered the truth, others have asserted that it cannot be apprehended, while others again go on inquiring. Those who believe they have discovered it are the "Dogmatists," specially so called is Aristotle, for example, and Epicurus and the Stoics and certain others.

 

Cleitomachus and Carneades and other Academics treat it as inapprehensible; the Sceptics keep on searching. Hence it seems reasonable to hold that the main types of philosophy are three: the Dogmatic, the Academic, and the Sceptic. Of the other systems it will best become others to speak: our task at present is to describe in outline the Sceptic doctrine, first premising that of none of our future statements do we positively affirm that the fact is exactly as we state it, but we simply record each fact, like a chronicler, as it appears to us at the moment.

 
     
 

What Scepticism Is

 

Scepticism is an ability, or mental attitude, which opposes appearances to judgements in any way whatsoever, with the result that, owing to the equipollence of the objects and reasons thus opposed, we are brought firstly to a state of mental suspense and next to a state of "unperturbedness" or quietude. Now we call it an "ability" not in any subtle sense, but simply in respect of its "being able." By "appearances" we now mean the objects of sense-perception, whence we contrast them with the objects of thought or "judgements." The phrase "in any way whatsoever" can be connected either with the word "ability," to make us take the word "ability," as we said, in its simple sense, or with the phrase "opposing appearances to judgements"; for inasmuch as we oppose these in a variety of ways--appearances to appearances, or judgements to judgements, or alternando appearances to judgements,--in order to ensure the inclusion of all these antitheses we employ the phrase "in any way whatsoever." Or, again, we join "in any way whatsoever" to "appearances and judgements" in order that we may not have to inquire how the appearances appear or how the thought-objects are judged, but may take these terms in the simple sense. 

 

The phrase "opposed judgements" we do not employ in the sense of negations and affirmations only but simply as equivalent to "conflicting judgements." "Equipollence" we use of equality in respect of probability and improbability, to indicate that no one of the conflicting judgements takes precedence of any other as being more probable. "Suspense" is a state of mental rest owing to which we neither deny nor affirm anything. "Quietude" is an untroubled and tranquil condition of soul. And how quietude enters the soul along with suspension of judgement we shall explain in our chapter (XII.) "Concerning the End."

 
     
 

Of the Principles of Scepticism

 

The originating cause of Scepticism is, we say, the hope of attaining quietude. Men of talent, who were perturbed by the contradictions in things and in doubt as to which of the alternatives they ought to accept, were led on to inquire what is true in things and what false, hoping by the settlement of the question to attain quietude. The main basic principle of the Sceptic system is that of opposing to every proposition an equal proposition; for we believe that as a consequence of this we end by ceasing to dogmatize.

 
     
 

Does the Sceptic Dogmatize?

 

When we say that the Sceptic refrains from dogmatizing we do not use the term "dogma," as some do, in the broader sense of "approval of a thing" (for the Sceptic gives assent to the feelings which are the necessary results of sense-impressions, and he would not, for example, say when feeling hot or cold "I believe that I am not hot or cold"); but we say that "he does not dogmatize" using "dogma" in the sense, which some give it, of "assent to one of the non-evident objects of scientific inquiry"; for the Pyrrhonean philosopher assents to nothing that is non-evident. Moreover, even in the act of enunciating the Sceptic formulae concerning things non-evident---such as the formula "No more (one thing than another)," or the formula "I determine nothing," or any of the others which we shall presently mention,---he does not dogmatize. For whereas the dogmatizer posits the things about which he is said to be dogmatizing as really existent, the Sceptic does not posit these formulae in any absolute sense; for he conceives that, just as the formula "All things are false" asserts the falsity of itself as well as of everything else, as does the formula "Nothing is true," so also the formula "No more" asserts that itself like all the rest, is "No more this than that," and thus cancels itself along with the rest. And of the other formulae we say the same.  If then, while the dogmatizer posits the matter of his dogma as substantial truth, the Sceptic enunciates his formulae so that they are virtually canceled by themselves, he should not be said to dogmatize in his enunciation of them. And, most important of all, in his enunciation of these formulae he states what appears to himself and announces his own impression in an undogmatic way, without making any positive assertion regarding the external realities.

 
     
 

Has the Sceptic a Doctrinal Rule?

 

We follow the same lines in replying to the question "Has the Sceptic a doctrinal rule?" For if one defines a "doctrinal rule" as "adherence to a number of dogmas which are dependent both on one another and on appearances," and defines "dogma" as "assent to a non-evident proposition," then we shall say that he has not a doctrinal rule. But if one defines "doctrinal rule" as "procedure which, in accordance with appearance, follows a certain line of reasoning, that reasoning indicating how it is possible to seem to live rightly (the word 'rightly' being taken, not as referring to virtue only, but in a wider sense) and tending to enable one to suspend judgment," then we say that he has a doctrinal rule. For we follow a line of reasoning which, in accordance with appearances, points us to a life conformable to the customs of our country and its laws and institutions, and to our own instinctive feelings.

 
     
 

Do the Sceptics Abolish Appearances?

 

Those who say that "the Sceptics abolish appearances," or phenomena, seem to me to be unacquainted with the statements of our School. For, as we said above, we do not overthrow the affective sense-impressions which induce our assent involuntarily; and these impressions are "the appearances." And when we question whether the underlying object is such as it appears, we grant the fact that it appears, and our doubt does not concern the appearance itself but the account given of the appearance,---and that is a different thing from questioning the appearance itself. For example, honey appears to us to be sweet (and this we grant, for we perceive sweetness through the senses), but whether it is also sweet in its essence is for us a matter of doubt, since this is not an appearance but a judgment regarding the appearance. And even if we do actually argue against the appearances, we do not propound such arguments with the intention of abolishing appearances, but by way of pointing out the rashness of the Dogmatists; for if reason is such a trickster as to all but snatch away the appearances from under our very eyes, surely we should view it with suspicion in the case of things non-evident so as not to display rashness by following it.

 
     
 

Of the Criterion of Scepticism

 

That we adhere to appearances is plain from what we say about the Criterion of the Sceptic School. The word "Criterion" is used in two senses: in the one it means "the standard regulating belief in reality or unreality," (and this we shall discuss in our refutation); in the other it denotes the standard of action by conforming to which in the conduct of life we perform some actions and abstain from others; and it is of the latter that we are now speaking. The criterion, then, of the Sceptic School is, we say, the appearance, giving this name to what is virtually the sense-presentation. For since this lies in feeling and involuntary affection, it is not open to question. Consequently, no one, I suppose, disputes that the underlying object has this or that appearance; the point in dispute is whether the object is in reality such as it appears to be.

    

Adhering, then, to appearances we live in accordance with the normal rules of life, undogmatically, seeing that we cannot remain wholly inactive. And it would seem that this regulation of life is fourfold, and that one part of it lies in the guidance of Nature, another in the constraint of the passions, another in the tradition of laws and customs, another in the instruction of the arts. Nature's guidance is that by which we are naturally capable of sensation and thought; constraint of the passions is that whereby hunger drives us to food and thirst to drink; tradition of customs and laws, that whereby we regard piety in the conduct of life as good, but impiety as evil; instruction of the arts, that whereby we are not inactive in such arts as we adopt. But we make all these statements undogmatically.

 
     
 

What Is the End of Scepticism?

 

Our next subject will be the End of the Sceptic system. Now an "End" is "that for which all actions or reasonings are undertaken, while it exists for the sake of none"; or, otherwise, "the ultimate object of appetency." We assert still that the Sceptic's End is quietude in respect of matters of opinion and moderate feeling in respect of things unavoidable. For the Sceptic, having set out to philosophize with the object of passing judgement on the sense-impressions and ascertaining which of them are true and which false, so as to attain quietude thereby, found himself involved in contradictions of equal weight, and being unable to decide between them suspended judgement; and as he was thus in suspense there followed, as it happened, the state of quietude in respect of matters of opinion. For the man who opines that anything is by nature good or bad is forever being disquieted: when he is without the things which he deems good he believes himself to be tormented by things naturally bad and he pursues after the things which are, as he thinks, good; which when he has obtained he keeps falling into still more perturbations because of his irrational and immoderate elation, and in his dread of a change of fortune he uses every endeavour to avoid losing the things which he deems good. On the other hand, the man who determines nothing as to what is naturally good or bad neither shuns nor pursues anything eagerly; and, in consequence, he is unperturbed.

 

The Sceptic, in fact, had the same experience which is said to have befallen the painter Apelles. Once, they say, when he was painting a horse and wished to represent in the painting the horse's foam, he was so unsuccessful that he gave up the attempt and flung at the picture the sponge on which he used to wipe the paints off his brush, and the mark of the sponge produced the effect of a horse's foam. So, too, the Sceptics were in hopes of gaining quietude by means of a decision regarding the disparity of the objects of sense and of thought, and being unable to effect this they suspended judgement; and they found that quietude, as if by chance, followed upon their suspense, even as a shadow follows its substance. We do not, however, suppose that the Sceptic is wholly untroubled; but we say that he is troubled by things unavoidable; for we grant that he is old at times and thirsty, and suffers various affections of that kind. But even in these cases, whereas ordinary people are afflicted by two circumstances, namely, by the affections themselves and in no less a degree, by the belief that these conditions are evil by nature, the Sceptic, by his rejection of the added belief in the natural badness of all these conditions, escapes here too with less discomfort. Hence we say that, while in regard to matters of opinion the Sceptic's End is quietude, in regard to things unavoidable it is "moderate affection." But some notable Sceptics have added the further definition "suspension of judgement in investigations."

 
     
 

Of the General Modes Leading to Suspension of Judgment

 

Now that we have been saying that tranquillity follows on suspension of judgement, it will be our next task to explain how we arrive at this suspension. Speaking generally, one may say that it is the result of setting things in opposition. We oppose either appearances to appearances or objects of thought to objects of thought or appearances to objects of thought. For instance, we oppose appearances when we say "The same tower appears round from a distance, but square from close at hand"; and thoughts to thoughts, when in answer to him who argues the existence of Providence from the order of the heavenly bodies we oppose the fact that often the good fare ill and the bad fare well, and draw from this the inference that Providence does not exist. And thoughts we oppose to appearances, as when Anaxagoras countered the notion that snow is white with the argument, "Snow is frozen water, and water is black; therefore snow also is black." With a different idea we oppose things present sometimes to things present, as in the foregoing examples, and sometimes to things past or future, as, for instance, when someone propounds to us a theory which we are unable to refute, we say to him in reply, "Just as, before the birth of the founder of the School to which you belong, the theory it holds was not as yet apparent as a sound theory, although it was really in existence, so likewise it is possible that the opposite theory to that which you now propound is already really existent, though not yet apparent to us, so that we ought not as yet to yield assent to this theory which at the moment seems to be valid."

But in order that we may have a more exact understanding of these antitheses I will describe the Modes by which suspension of judgement is brought about, but without making any positive assertion regarding either their number or their validity; for it is possible that they may be unsound or there may be more of them than I shall enumerate.

 
     
 

Concerning the Ten Modes

 

The usual tradition amongst the older Sceptics is that the "modes" by which "suspension" is supposed to be brought about are ten in number; and they also give them the synonymous names of "arguments" and "positions." They are these: the first, based on the variety in animals; the second, on the differences in human beings; the third, on the different structures of the organs of sense; the fourth, on the circumstantial conditions; the fifth, on positions and intervals and locations; the sixth, on intermixtures; the seventh, on the quantities and formations of the underlying objects; the eighth, on the fact of relativity; the ninth, on the frequency or rarity of occurrence; the tenth, on the disciplines and customs and laws, the legendary beliefs and the dogmatic convictions. This order, however, we adopt without prejudice.

 
     
 

The Fourth Mode

In order that we may finally reach suspension by basing our argument on each sense singly, or even by disregarding the senses, we further adopt the Fourth Mode of suspension. This is the Mode based, as we say, on the "circumstances," meaning by "circumstances" conditions or dispositions. And this Mode, we say, deals with the states that are natural or unnatural, with waking or sleeping, with conditions due to age, motion or rest, hatred or love, emptiness or fullness, drunkenness or soberness, predispositions, confidence or fear, grief or joy. Thus, according as the mental state is natural or unnatural, objects produce dissimilar impressions, as when men in a frenzy or in a state of ecstasy believe they hear daemons' voices, while we do not. Similarly they often say that they perceive an odour of storax or frankincense, or some such scent, and many other things, though we fail to perceive them. Also, the same water which feels very hot when poured on inflamed spots seems lukewarm to us. And the same coat which seems of a bright yellow colour to men with blood-shot eyes does not appear so to me. And the same honey seems to me sweet, but bitter to me with jaundice. Now should anyone say that it is an intermixture of certain humours which produces in those who are in an unnatural state improper impressions from the underlying objects, we have to reply that, since healthy persons also have mixed humours, these humours too are capable of causing the external objects--which really are such as they appear to those who are said to be in an unnatural state--to appear other than they are to healthy persons. For to ascribe the power of altering the underlying objects to those humours, and not to these, is purely fanciful; since just as healthy men are in the state that is natural for the healthy but unnatural  for the sick, so also sick men are in a state that is unnatural for the healthy but natural for the sick, so that to these last also we must give credence as being, relatively speaking, in a natural state.

Sleeping and waking, too, give rise to different impressions, since we do not imagine when awake what we imagine in sleep, nor when asleep what we imagine when awake; so that the existence or nonexistence of our impressions is not absolute but relative, being in relation to our sleeping or waking condition. Probably, then, in dreams we see things which to our waking state are unreal, although not wholly unreal; for they exist in our dreams, just as waking realities exist although non-existent in dreams.

Age is another cause of difference. For the same air seems chilly to the old but mild to those in their prime; and the same colour seems faint to the older men but vivid to those in their prime; and similarly the same sound seems to the former faint, but to the latter clearly audible. Moreover, those who differ in age are differently moved in respect of choice and avoidance. Foe whereas children--to take a case--are all eagerness for balls and hoops, men in their prime choose other things, and old men yet others. And from this we conclude that differences in age also cause different impressions to be produced by the same underlying objects.

Another cause why the real objects appear different lies in motion and rest. For those objects which, when we are standing still, we see to be motionless, we imagine to be in motion when we are sailing past them. 

Love and hatred are a cause, as when some have an extreme aversion to pork while others greatly enjoy eating it. Hence, too, Menander said:

Mark now his visage, what a change is there

Since he has come to this! How bestial!

'Tis actions fair that make the fairest face.

Many lovers, too, who have ugly mistresses think them most beautiful.  Hunger and satiety are a cause; for the same food seems agreeable to the hungry but disagreeable to the sated.  Drunkenness and soberness are a cause; since actions which we think shameful when sober do not seem shameful to us when we are drunk.  Predispositions are a cause; for the same wine which seems sour to those who have previously eaten dates or figs, seems sweet to those who have just consumed nuts or chick-peas; and the vestibule if the bath-house, which warms those entering from outside, chills those coming out of the bath-room if they stop long in it.  Fear and boldness are a cause; as what seems to the coward fearful and formidable does not seem so in the least to the bold man.  Grief and joy are a cause; since the same affairs are burdensome to those in grief but delightful to those who rejoice.

Seeing then that the dispositions also are the cause of so much disagreement, and that men are differently disposed at different times, although, no doubt, it is easy to say what nature each of the underlying objects appears to each man to possess, we cannot go on to say what its real nature is, since the disagreement admits in itself of no settlement. For the person who tries to settle it is either in one of the afore-mentioned dispositions or in no disposition whatsoever. But to declare that he is in no disposition at all--as, for instance, neither in health nor sickness, neither in motion nor at rest, of no definite age, and devoid of all the other dispositions as well--in the height of absurdity. And if he is to judge the sense-impressions while he is in some one disposition, he will be a party to the disagreement, and, moreover, he will not be an impartial judge of the external underlying objects owing to his being confused by the dispositions in which he is placed. The waking person, for instance, cannot compare the impressions of sleepers with those of men awake, nor the sound person those of the sick with those of the sound; for we assent more readily to things present, which affect us in the present, than to things not present.

In another way, too, the disagreement of such impressions is incapable of settlement. For he who prefers one impression to another, or one "circumstance" to another, does so either uncritically and without proof or critically with proof; but he can do this neither without these means (for then he would be discredited) nor with them. For if he is to pass judgment on the impressions he must certainly judge them by a criterion; this criterion, then, he will declare to be true, or else false. But if false, he will be discredited; whereas if he shall declare it to be true, he will be stating that the criterion is true either without proof or with proof. But if without proof, he will be discredited; and if with proof, it will certainly be necessary for the proof also be true, to avoid being discredited. Shall he, then, affirm the truth of the proof adopted to establish the criterion after having judged it or without judging it? If without judging, he will be discredited; but if after judging, plainly he will say that he has judged it by a criterion; and of that criterion we shall ask for a proof, and of that proof again a criterion. For the proof always requires a criterion to confirm it, and the criterion also a proof to demonstrate its truth; and neither can a proof be sound without the previous existence of a true criterion nor can the criterion be true without the previous confirmation of the proof. So in this way both the criterion and the proof are involved in the circular process of reasoning, and thereby both are found to be untrustworthy; for since each of them is dependent on the credibility just as much as the other. Consequently, if a man can prefer one impression to another neither without a proof and a criterion nor with them, then the different impressions due to the differing conditions will admit of no settlement; so that as a result of this Mode also we are brought to suspend judgment regarding the nature of external realities.

Mental suspense:  the Greek term is epoche or referring to the suspension of judgment practiced by skeptics

Quietude: the Greek is ataraxia or the "tranquility of soul."   

Note: For a brief overview of these ten modes see The Original Ten Modes of Skepticism.

circumstances:  the mental or physical state of the subject at the moment of perception.

 
     

IV.  The Philosophy of Skepticism

Having read the above text, we can now discuss the philosophical method of the Skeptics as described by Sextus Empiricus.  For the sake of simplicity, we can reduce this method to four distinct stages:

Stage 1:  The Method of Antithesis

The skeptic begins by opposing one set of propositions with another set of opposing proposition For example:  "There is a God who created the universe and the universe came into being purely by chance."  Or:  "All human beings posses a free will and human beings are completely determined by their genetic make-ups."

The method of antithesis has a long tradition in Skeptic philosophy.  The Academic philosopher Carneades, on a trip to Rome, was reported to have argued forcefully for justice one day and argued equally forcefully against it the next day.

The later Skeptics devised, what came to be referred to as the Ten Modes of Skepticism.  The aim of each of these modes is to create antitheses.  Let's examine the first and last of these ten modes:

(1)  That the same objects do not produce the same sensations in different animals.  We know that the sense organs of animals differ from species to species:  bats and flies, for instance, probably perceive the world differently from one another and from human beings.  Based upon this fact, the skeptic concludes that objects in the world may not be exactly as they appear to us.  The end result:  uncertainty.

(10) That there is a diversity of customs, habits and laws amomg people living in different cultures.  Sextus reminds us that while incest, adultery or sodomy was acceptable in certain cultures; in others these activities were considered immoral.  Questions of right and wrong, good and bad, may not be as black and white as we may think they are.  The end result:  uncertainty.

For a brief summary of the ten modes see "The Original Ten Modes of Skepticism".

Stage 2:  Equipollence

A good skeptic as we have just seen is one who is capable of using the method of antithesis to argue persuasively for opposing claims and propositions (arguing not-p for any thesis p that is put forth as being true).  This ability, Sextus Empiricus believes leads naturally to a state of equipollence:  the skeptic finds that after both sides of an issue have been thoroughly argued that there is as much to be said for one side of the issue as there is for the other (the truth of not-p seems to be as certain as the truth of p) and that one has no rational basis for choosing one side over the other.

Stage 3:  Epoche

The ten modes, described by Sextus presumably would lead the critical person to a suspension of judgment or epoche [from a Greek word meaning to check, cease, suspend, stop or pause in some activity that otherwise or normally occurs].   The skeptic, in other words, avoids affirming or denying the truth of any statements about the actual nature of things.  We might be able to say what something appears to be, but we cannot make any judgments about what actually is the case. 

We have already seen in the text, that Sextus is adamant about the language that skeptics should use when making philosophical pronouncements, precisely because he wishes them to be careful not to inadvertently make dogmatic pronouncements.  A good skeptic will certainly never say something like "This is the case."  Instead he will use expressions that illustrate his uncertainty:  "Perhaps/possibly/maybe this is the case [and perhaps/possibly/maybe it is not]."

Stage 4:  Ataraxia

One would think that a skeptic could never be happy, since he is so filled with uncertainty at all times.  Actually Sextus maintains that it is not the skeptic who is unhappy, but the dogmatist.

According to Sextus, the quest for certainty can only lead to doubt, which in turn leads us to be perturbed; and someone, who is perturbed, he believes, can never be happy.  So the skeptic would maintain that in order to be happy, we must give up the quest for certainty....We must, in other words, become skeptics.  In  Book 1, chapter 12 of Outlines,  Sextus, describes happiness as nothing more than the tranquility of soul [ataraxia]  that comes from suspending all judgment about the world and our place in it.

Practicing suspension of judgment also leads necessarily to indifference to misfortune.  Since the skeptic can never be certain that misfortunes [having you legs cut off in an accident or having a loved one die, for example] are actually bad things, he learns to accept all the adversities that life throws at him with calmness and composure.  

It was common practice for Skeptics to compare their own lives to those even worse off than they were.   Rather than seeing one's own relative poverty as something bad, the Skeptic would recommend that one focus on the plight of those who are starving.  Bad luck when viewed in a relative light, turns out not really to be quite so bad after all. The awareness of this fact necessarily leads again to tranquility of mind.

V.  Augustine's Critique of Skepticism

Now that you have some idea about the Skeptic's approach to philosophy, we should examine why this approach is so problematic.  One of the greatest critics of skepticism in the ancient world was St. Augustine.  Augustine, himself, was a skeptic for a brief period in his early life, but quickly came to see the flaws in this philosophical system.

In one of his early works, Answer to the Skeptics, Augustine attempts to demonstrate the weakness of the Skeptics position by demonstrating the existence of certain absolute truths that are not subject to doubt because they contain within themselves the principles of their own validity:

     
 

Augustine

Answer to the Skeptics III. 23-26

 

Logical Truths: The Disjunctive Proposition 

23.  'You say that in philosophy nothing can be understood. And, in order to spread you utterance far and wide, you ridicule the quarrels and dissensions of philosophers. And you think that those quarrels and dissensions supply you with arms against philosophers themselves. How, for instance, are we going to adjudicate the contest between Democritus and the earlier cosmologists as to the oneness or the incalculable multiplicity of the world, inasmuch as it was possible to preserve agreement between Democritus himself and his heir, Epiricus? That voluptuary was glad to grasp atoms in the darkness and to make those little bodies his handmaids, but he dissipated his entire patrimony through litigation when he allowed them to deviate from their respective proper courses and to diverge capriciously into one another's paths. Of course, this is no affair of mine, but, if it pertains to wisdom to know anything about those matters, a wise man cannot be unaware of that fact. I myself am as yet far from being even almost wise. Nevertheless, I know something about those matters of cosmology, for I am certain that either there is only one world or there are more worlds than one. I am likewise certain that if there are more worlds than one, their number is either finite or infinite. Carneades would teach that this notion resembles a false one. Furthermore, I know for certain that this world of ours has its present arrangement either from the nature of bodies or from a foresight of some kind. I am also certain that either it always was and always will be, or it had a beginning and will never end, or it existed before time and will have an end, or it had a beginning and will not last forever. And I have the same kind of knowledge with regard to countless cosmological problems, for those disjunctives are true, and no one can confuse them with any likeness to falsity. "Now," says the Academic, "assume the truth of either member of  the disjunction." I refuse to do that, for it is the same as saying: "Quit what you know, and say what you know not." "But," says he, "your notion is now hanging in suspense." Very well: better hanging in suspense than falling to the ground. While it is hanging, it is at least in plain view, and it can be pronounced either true or false. Because I know that it is neither true or false, I say that I know it as a proposition. Now, since you do not deny that these matters pertain to philosophy, and since you nevertheless maintain that nothing can be known about them, I ask you to show that I do not know them. In other words, say either that these disjunctives are false or that they have something in common with falsity-some characteristic which renders them absolutely indistinguishable from something that is false.' 

The Existence of the World as True

24.  '"But," says he, "if the senses are deceptive, how do you know that this world exists?" Your reasons will never be able to refute the testimony of the senses to such extent as to convince us that nothing is perceived by us. In fact, you have never ventured to try that, but you have strenuously exerted yourself to convince us that a thing can be something other than what  it seems to be. So, by the term world, I mean this totality which surrounds us and sustains us. Whatever its nature may be, I apply the term world to that which is present to my eyes, and which I see to be holding the earth and the heavens, or the quasi earth and the quasi heavens. If you say that nothing appears to me, then I shall never be in error: the man that is in error is the man who rashly accepts as true whatever appears to him. Indeed, you yourselves say that to sentient begins a false thing can appear to be true, but you do not say that nothing can so appear to them. You are anxious to gain a victory in this dispute. But, if we know nothing, and if nothing even appears to us as true, then the entire reason for our dispute will vanish. And if you maintain that what appears to me is not a world, then you are disputing about words only, for I have said that I call it a world.'

Mathematical Truths

25.  'But, you will ask me: "Is it the very same world that you are seeing, even if you are asleep?"...But, I regard it as already sufficiently plain that the things which are  seen awry through sleep or  derangement are things that pertain to the bodily senses, for, even if the whole human race were fast asleep, it would still be necessarily true that three times three are nine, and that this is the square of intelligible numbers. 

 
     

Augustine's most famous argument against skepticism is found in one of the last works, the monumental City of God.  In this work, Augustine attempts to demonstrate that the very doubt that the skeptic has is itself a form of certainty:

     
 

Augustine's Critique of Academic Skepticism

City of God  11.26

In respect of those truths I have no fear of the arguments of the Academics.  They say, 'Suppose you are mistaken?' I reply, 'if I am mistaken, I exist.'  A non-existent bring cannot be mistake; therefore I must exist, If I am mistaken.  Then since my being mistaken proves that I exist, how can I be mistaken in thinking that I exist, seeing that my mistake establishes my existence?  Since therefore I must exist in order to be mistaken, then even if I am mistaken, there can be no doubt that I am not mistaken in my knowledge that I exist.  It follows that I exist, I also know that I know. 

And when I am glad of those two facts, I can add the fact of that gladness to the things I know, as a fact of equal worth.  For I am not mistaken about the fact of my gladness, since I am not mistaken about the things which I love.  Even if they were illusory, it would still be a fact that I love the illusions.  For how could be rightly blamed and forbidden to love illusions, if it were an illusion that I loved them?  But since in fact their truth is established, who can doubt that, when they are loved, that love is an established truth?  Moreover, it is as certain that no one would wish himself not to exist as it is that no one would wish himself not to be happy.  For existence is a necessary condition for happiness.

 
     

What is the gist of this argument?  Augustine maintains that doubt presupposes some degree of consciousness, and consciousness presupposes existence.  So from the starting point of my own doubt, I am led to a necessary truth---that I myself must exist.  This argument would later become popularized as "I doubt, therefore I am." (Dubito ergo sum).  


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