Lecture Supplement on Descartes’ First 
Meditation [1637][1]
Copyright © 2018 Bruce W. Hauptli 
Dedication, Preface, and Synopsis: 
Dedication: 
47 His deity and the soul are to be proved by natural 
reason.[2] 
49 Demonstrations of the highest certainty and evidence 
require a mind entirely free from prejudice and detached from the 
senses.  
Preface: 
51 Descartes (very) briefly responds quickly to two 
critiques of his earlier Discourse on Method [1637]: 
-The first criticism is that: 
“...from the fact that the human mind, when turned in on itself, does not 
perceive itself to be anything other than a thinking thing, it does not follow 
that its nature or essence consists only in its being a thinking 
thing....”  He responds that he did 
not intend to prove this there, but he will show this (presumably in this work). 
-The second criticism is that: “...it does not follow from the fact that I have within me an idea of a thing more perfect than me, that this idea is itself more perfect than me, and still less that what is represented by this idea exists.” He answers that if ‘idea’ is taken only “materially,” this is so; but if it is taken “objectively” (that is “representationally”), this is not so—as he will show in this work. What he will show is that (p. 52): “...from the mere fact that there is within me an idea of something more perfect than me, it follows that this thing really exists.”
--In his Philosophy As Social 
Expression, Albert W. Levi maintains that: “it is indeed ironic that in the 
Cartesian system, while the authority of natural science derives ultimately from 
the establishment of two basic propositions of metaphysics, these propositions 
themselves are the most questionable and the most vulnerable to external 
philosophical criticism.  In the 
“Preface to the Reader”...he refers back to the Discourse of 1637 of 
which he had freely solicited criticism, and to the two chief criticisms which 
he had in fact received.  These were 
(1) that from the fact that the human mind, reflecting on itself, does not 
perceive itself to be other than a thing which thinks it does not follow 
that its nature or its essence does indeed consist only in thinking; and (2) 
that from the fact that I have in myself the idea of something more 
perfect than I am, it does not follow that this idea is more 
perfect than I am, and even less that what is represented by this idea exists. 
The Cogito and the ontological proof are the ultimate 
foundations of Descartes’ philosophy of science, as they are the cornerstone of 
his metaphysics, but they are just those elements which subsequent philosophers 
have been most reluctant to certify as acceptable components of the Cartesian 
system.”[3] 
52 Descartes notes again, that his inquiry here will be one 
in “first philosophy,” and will require that the reader give it serious 
attention.  Indeed, he notes, he 
publishes a set of “Objections” with the Meditations, and he asks the 
reader to withhold final judgment until they have been considered also. 
Synopsis: 
The appropriate paragraphs of the “Synopsis” need to be 
read before and after each of the Meditations. 
54-55 The discussion of the status of mental and physical 
substances is important, though it becomes clear only upon completion of the 
“Sixth Meditation.”  
The First 
Meditation:
59 Goal—he desires to establish firm knowledge in the 
sciences.  
59-60 Type of doubt—doubt whatever is not indubitable or 
entirely certain—even what is only slightly tinged or possibly tinged! 
It is general—he doesn’t doubt 
each proposition but, rather, doubts them in groups. 
60 Sometimes the senses mislead us! 
-But, perhaps, sometimes the 
senses don’t—then we are “close” to the object, etc. 
The dreaming argument: but I do dream: “I have been deceived in sleep by 
similar perceptions.”  
-May I suppose that dream images
represent?  May I suppose that 
there are simples like the elements 
in a picture (that the structure of the painting may be all wrong, as it were, 
but that the elements in it actually correspond or represent)? 
-60-61 Surely “simples” 
are true whether one is awake or dreaming? 
That is, whether my experiences are dreaming or awakened ones, surely the 
“simple components” of the experiences (those out of which the “complexes” are 
formed) provide me with a solid (and valid) base of knowledge claims. 
Can’t I suppose that dream images still represent the world somewhat? 
That is, may I suppose that there are simples like the elements in a 
picture (that the structure of the painting may be all wrong, as it were, but 
that the elements in it actually correspond or represent?) 
61 “Be that as it may, there is fixed in my mind a certain 
opinion of long standing, namely that there exists a God who is able to do 
anything and by whom I, such as I am, have been created. 
How do I know that He did not bring it about that there is no earth at 
all, no heavens, no extended thing, no shape, no size, no place, and yet bring 
it about that all these things appear to me to exist precisely as they do now? 
Moreover, since I judge that others sometimes make mistakes in matters 
that they believe they know most perfectly, may I not, in like fashion, be 
deceived every time I add two and three or count the sides of a square, or 
perform an even simpler operation, if that can be imagined?” 
-62 If one believes there is not 
such a powerful deity, then, since the author of our being is less powerful, it 
is increasingly probable that we easily fall into error. 
-“...long standing opinions keep 
returning, and, almost against my will, they take advantage of my credulity, as 
if it were bound over to them by long use and the claims of intimacy.” 
-62-63 I will suppose an 
evil genius who is at once exceedingly potent and deceitful and who employs all 
his artifice to deceive me—note that the sense of ‘evil’ here is epistemic, not 
moral or theological!  
63 I will be a skeptic—I will
withhold my assent. 
Comments on the 
First Meditation: 
(A). Avoid Error vs. Embrace Truth. 
(B). Dreams and Deceivers: 
A possible origin of the 
Deceiver Hypothesis: the trial of an alleged warlock in France at the time for 
“infesting a convent of nuns” wherein the defendant claimed that he had the 
necessary powers of deception, he would be able to avoid court by deceiving he 
magistrates, judge and others involved in the trial. 
Alice, her “Wonderland, and 
Tweedledum/Tweedledee claiming she is dreaming—a claim Alice vehemently denies![4]
 
Jorge Luis Borges’ “The Circular 
Ruins,”[5] 
and the Star Trek Next Generation 
episode entitled “Ship In A Bottle” where Professor Moriarty (a holodeck 
character) manages to take control of both a holodeck fantasy program and of the 
Starship Enterprise.  At the end of 
the episode, one of the crew-members is not at all sure that the “program” is 
not continuing, and (sheepishly) worries that his “life” might be a fantasy. 
In his
Sophie’s World: A Novel About the History of Philosophy, Jostein 
Gaarder reminds us that: 
the old Chinese sage Chuang-tzu...said: 
Once I dreamed I was a butterfly, and now I no longer know whether I am Chuang-tzu, 
who dreamed I was a butterfly, or whether I am a butterfly dreaming that I am 
Chuang-tzu.[6] 
As Gaarder’s overall story 
develops, it appears as if one of his characters may “take control” of the 
novel, and the overall discussion clearly has Descartes in mind. 
(C). The problem of representationalism: 
Imagine you are a physicist, 
astronomer, chemist or psychologist, and you are charged with discovering 
certain fundamental laws of the universe—that is, you are attempting to discover 
the laws which govern the behavior of unobservable phenomena (electrons, quanta, 
black holes, molecules, minds, etc.). 
How will you proceed?  
-Do chemical reactions, 
behavioral responses, and gross macroscopic events which we can observe provide 
us with representations of what occurs at the unobservable level? 
Here is something parallel to the problem Descartes confronts and would 
resolve.  The scientist is, 
literally, confined to his or her observations—what is observed differs 
radically from the fundamental particles discussed in the theories. 
Descartes looks for a 
characteristic of some of his ideas which would
guarantee that they (truly) represent (things in the world). 
In his “Idealism and 
Greek Philosophy: What Descartes Saw and Berkeley Missed” M.F. Burnyeat notes 
that: “Greek philosophy does not know the problem of proving in a general way 
the existence of an external world.  
That problem is a modern 
invention....The problem which typifies ancient philosophical enquiry in a way 
that the external world problem has come to typify philosophical enquiry in 
modern times is quite the opposite.  
It is the problem of understanding how thought can be of
nothing or what is not, how our minds 
can be exercised on falsehoods, fictions, and illusions.[7] 
Descartes and 
“the Egocentric Predicament:” 
It is important that we note 
that Descartes’ new (“scientific”) epistemology explicitly begins with the
isolated self.  As C.A.J. 
Coady notes his Testimony: A Philosophical 
Study: 
it is interesting to contrast 
Reid’s attitude with Descartes’s.  In 
the Discourse on the Method, Descartes 
says in discussing the influence of custom and example upon belief, ‘And yet a 
majority vote is worthless as a proof of truths that are at all difficult to 
discover; for a single man is much more likely to hit upon them than a group of 
people’….The confident individualism of this passage will be relevant to my 
discussion of the influences of individualist ideology upon the neglect of 
testimony.  Descartes’s thought here 
is not only at odds with the (surely genuine) phenomenon to which Reid draws 
attention but also with the facts of scientific co-operation and mutual 
dependency in the uncovering of truths that are (often extremely) difficult to 
discover.[8] 
Whereas Thomas Reid and today’s 
scientists begin squarely in a social epistemology which sees the knower in a 
world which includes, and, more importantly, accepts the testimony of others, 
Descartes begins his epistemic journey alone and isolated from both others and 
the world.  From Descartes’ time to 
our own, many epistemologists have believed that to achieve justified knowledge 
about the world we must begin from this “egocentric” predicament and work our 
way out ward.  Some contemporary 
naturalistic epistemologists follow the line of thought of Reid, however. 
They emphasize that humans begin their epistemic journey learning from 
others, and they point out that testimony is as common, and strong, a source of 
justification as individual experience. 
We shall see that Descartes has little to say about the role of 
testimony, because he has significant difficulty even getting to the existence 
of others, let alone to utilizing them as a possible source of epistemic 
justification.  
Problems with 
Descartes’ Arguments for Skepticism: 
(A). G.E. Moore raises this criticism of Descartes’ 
dreaming argument: “...can he consistently combine this proposition [a] that he 
knows that dreams have occurred, with his conclusion [b] that he does not know 
that he is not dreaming?  Can anybody 
possibly know that dreams have occurred, if, at the time, he does not himself 
know that he is not dreaming?  If he
is dreaming, it may be that he is only 
dreaming that dreams have occurred; and if he does not know that he is not 
dreaming, can he possibly know that he is 
not only dreaming that dreams have occurred? 
Can he possibly know therefore that dreams
have occurred?  I do not 
think that he can; and therefore I think that anyone who uses this premise and 
also asserts the conclusion that nobody ever knows that he is not dreaming, is 
guilty of an inconsistency.”[9] 
(B). Philosophical argumentation and modeling: 
senses sometimes mislead us → 
perhaps they always do; 
some paintings are forgeries → 
perhaps they all are.[10] 
Gilbert Ryle provides a version of this criticism: 
I must say a little 
about the quite general argument from the notorious limitations and fallibility 
of our senses to the impossibility of our getting to know anything at all by 
looking, listening and touching.  
 
A country which had no coinage would offer no scope to counterfeiters. 
There would be nothing for them to manufacture or pass counterfeits of. 
They could, if they wished, manufacture and give away decorated disks of 
brass or lead, which the public might be pleased to get. 
But these would not be false coins. 
There can be false coins only where there are coins made of the proper 
materials by the proper authorities.  
 
In a country where there is a coinage, false coins can be manufactured 
and passed; and the counterfeiting might be so efficient that an ordinary 
citizen, unable to tell which were false and which were genuine coins, might 
become suspicious of the genuineness of any particular coin that he received. 
But however general his suspicions might be, there remains one 
proposition which he cannot entertain, the proposition, namely, that it is 
possible that all coins are counterfeits. 
For there must be an answer to the question ‘Counterfeits of what?’”[11] 
In his “I Only Am Escaped Alone 
to tell Thee:’ Epistemology and the Ishmael Effect,” David Stove maintains: 
well, it is true, and also 
contingent, that some of us sometimes hallucinate. 
But it does not follow from that, (even if Descartes thought it did), 
that it is logically possible that all of us are always hallucinating. 
Some children in a school-class may happen to be below the average level 
of ability of children in that class, but it is not logically possible that all 
of them are.  Neither is it logically 
possible that we are all always 
hallucinating.  For we—that is, all 
human beings—are perceived by (unless indeed we are hallucinations of) at least 
one human being: ourselves if no other. 
Whence, on the supposition that we—that is, all human beings—are always
hallucinating, it follows that all human beings are hallucinations 
of at least one human being.  And 
that is not logically possible.[12] 
(C). J.L. Austin offers a related sort of criticism. 
He claims that “...it is important to remember that talk of deception 
only makes sense against a background 
of general non-deception.  (You can’t 
fool all of the people all of the time.) 
It must be possible to recognize 
a case of deception by checking the odd cases against the more normal ones.”[13] 
(D). In his Bright 
Air, Brilliant Fire, Gerald Edelman notes that: “one matter Descartes did 
not explicitly analyze, however, was that to be aware and able to guide his 
philosophical thought, he needed to have language. 
And for a person to have language, at least one other person must be 
involved, even if that person is the memory of someone in one’s past, an 
interiorized interlocutor.  This 
requirement shakes Descartes’ notion that his conclusions depended on himself 
alone and not on other people.  
Moreover, Descartes was not explicit as to when a human being first has access 
to a thinking substance in his development. 
Perhaps he should have pondered further the likelihood of a French baby 
concluding, “Je pense donc je suis.”“[14] 
(E). Do the congenitally blind have “visual images?” 
In his “Even Blind People Can Draw,” Daniel Zalewski maintains that: 
early this year [2002], at the 
 
All people blind since birth, cognitive scientists now say, share her 
basic ability to create realistic drawings of everyday objects: a Coke bottle, 
an armchair, a toothbrush.  But how 
can visual art possibly be made by people without vision? 
The emerging idea is that picture-making is a cognitive ability so deeply 
embedded in our brains that it flourishes even when our eyes fail us.[15] 
What has really shocked 
cognitive scientists, however, is that many blind artists seem to have tricks of 
the Renaissance buried inside their brains. 
Foreshortening, vanishing points and other devices of modern pictorial 
realism—techniques that artists in the Middle Ages lacked—can be found in blind 
art.  At the Modern, when Kennedy 
asked Carcione to draw a cube balanced on a point with three faces toward her, 
she began by drawing a Y shape: three angles converging to a point. 
When a cube was placed in front of a cone on the table, Carcione drew the 
cone smaller, to convey distance.  
This discovery suggests that realistic art isn’t just a nifty cultural 
invention; it’s based on hard-wired systems of perception. 
 
But if that’s true, why did it take Italian artists well into the 14th 
century to develop what Carcione came upon through intuition. 
It’s still a mystery, but Kennedy theorizes that it has to do with the 
fact that many blind people, out of necessity, develop an acute ability to 
imagine physical space.  In other 
words, visual artists before the Renaissance were too bedazzled by sensory 
overload to grasp the fundamental architecture of pictorial space.[16] 
(F) If the dreaming argument is so powerful (and it seems 
through the ages to be so), then why are Berkeley and solipsism so implausible? 
								
								
								[1] 
								This supplement, 
								and the others for Descartes’
								
								Meditations on First Philosophy, reference 
								the pages in Donald A. Cress’ translation in
								René 
								Descartes: Discourse on Method and Meditations 
								on First Philosophy, Fourth Edition 
								(Indianapolis: Hackett, 1998
								
								
								
								[2]
								The phrase 
								‘natural reason’ needs clarification here. 
								In using this phrase, Descartes means to 
								indicate that he wishes to prove these things 
								without appeal to revelation or faith. 
								It is reason alone that is to be the 
								court of appeal—it alone is to provide 
								justification for our beliefs and theories. 
								
								
								
								
								[3] Albert W. Levi,
								Philosophy As Social Expression (Chicago: 
								Univ. of Chicago, 1974), p. 209. 
								Levi has it wrong at one point here—he 
								terms the poof in the of the deity’s existence 
								in the 
								Third Meditation “ontological,” whereas that 
								is the proper designation of the
								Fifth 
								Meditation proof. 
								
								
								
								
								[4]
								Cf., 
								“Chapter IV Tweedledum and Tweedledee” in Louis 
								Carroll, 
								Through The Looking Glass [1871], in
								The 
								Annotated Alice: Alice’s Adventures in 
								Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, 
								ed. Martin Gardner (N.Y.: Meridian, 1963), pp. 
								229-244. 
								
								
								
								
								[5]
								Cf., 
								Jorge Luis Borges, “The Circular Ruins,” in
								The Light 
								Fantastic, ed. Harry Harrison (N.Y.: 
								Scribners, 1971). 
								
								
								
								
								[6] Jostein Gaarder, 
								Sophie’s World: A Novel About the History of 
								Philosophy, trans. Paulette Moller (N.Y.: 
								Farr, Straus and Giroux, 1994), p. 177. 
								
								
								
								
								[7] M.F. Burnyeat, 
								“Idealism and Greek Philosophy: What Descartes 
								Saw and Berkeley Missed,”
								The 
								Philosophical Review v. 91 (1982), pp. 3-40, 
								p. 19—emphasis is added to the passage twice. 
								
								
								
								
								[8] C.A.J. Coady, 
								Testimony: A Philosophical Study (Oxford: 
								Oxford U.P., 1992), p. 12, footnote. 
								
								
								
								
								[9] G.E. Moore,
								
								Philosophical Papers (London: George Allen & 
								Unwin, 1959), pp. 248-249. 
								D. Blumenfeld and J.B. Blumenfeld’s “Can 
								I Know That I Am Not Dreaming,” in
								Descartes: 
								Critical and Interpretive Essays, ed. 
								Michael Hooker (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins 
								University Press, 1978), pp. 234-255, has an 
								excellent discussion of the dreaming argument. 
								Norman Malcolm has a more complex 
								discussion of Descartes’ “dreaming argument” in 
								his “Dreaming and Skepticism,” which is 
								collected in
								Descartes: 
								A Collection of Critical Essays, ed. Willis 
								Doney (Garden City: Anchor, 1967), pp. 
								54-79—this essay originally appeared in
								The 
								Philosophical Review v. 65 (1956), pp. 
								14-37. 
								
								
								
								
								[10]
								Cf., 
								Jay Rosenberg,
								The Practice of Philosophy (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice Hall, 1984), 
								pp. 15-17. 
								Note that this argument applies to both 
								the “evil demon” and the “dreaming” arguments 
								(it can’t all be a dream without the notion of a 
								dream being undercut). 
								
								
								
								
								[11] Gilbert Ryle,
								Dilemmas 
								(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1960), 
								pp. 94-95. 
								
								
								
								
								[12] David Stove, 
								“‘I Only Am Escaped Alone to Tell Thee:’ 
								Epistemology and the Ishmael Effect” in his
								The Plato 
								Cult (Oxford: Basil Blackwell, 1991), pp. 
								61-82, p. 75. 
								
								
								
								
								[13] J.L. Austin, 
								Sense and Sensibilia (Oxford: Oxford 
								University Press, 1962), p. 11. 
								Cf., Anthony Kenny,
								Descartes: 
								A Study of His Philosophy (New York: Random 
								House, 1968), p. 25; and O.K. Bouwsma, 
								“Descartes’ Evil Genius”
								in 
								Meta-Meditations, ed. A. Sesonske (Belmont: 
								Wadsworth, 1965)—this essay originally appeared 
								in The 
								Philosophical Review v. 58 (1949), pp. 
								141-151. 
								
								
								
								
								[14] Gerald Edelman,
								Bright 
								Air, Brilliant Fire (N.Y.: Basic Books, 
								1992), pp. 34-35. 
								
								
								
								
								[15] Daniel 
								Zalewski, “Even Blind People Can Draw,”
								New York 
								Times Magazine, December 15, 2002, p. 88. 
								
								
								
								
								[16]
								Ibid. 
								
Email: hauptli@fiu.edu
Last revised: 04/25/18.