This will be either the fourth or the fifth time I've posted this excerpt from Pascal's Pensees, but allow me to cite again this passage from my favorite, No. 72:
For, in fact, what is man in nature? A Nothing in comparison with the Infinite, an All in comparison with the Nothing, a mean between nothing and everything. Since he is infinitely removed from comprehending the extremes, the end of things and their beginning are hopelessly hidden from him in an impenetrable secret; he is equally incapable of seeing the Nothing from which he was made, and the Infinite in which he is swallowed up. …
Let us, then, take our compass; we are something, and we are not everything. The nature of our existence hides from us the knowledge of first beginnings which are born of the Nothing; and the littleness of our being conceals from us the sight of the Infinite.
Our intellect holds the same position in the world of thought as our body occupies in the expanse of nature.
Limited as we are in every way, this state which holds the mean between two extremes is present in all our impotence. Our senses perceive no extreme. Too much sound deafens us; too much light dazzles us; too great distance or proximity hinders our view. …
This is our true state; this is what makes us incapable of certain knowledge and of absolute ignorance. We sail within a vast sphere, ever drifting in uncertainty, driven from end to end. When we think to attach ourselves to any point and to fasten to it, it wavers and leaves us; and if we follow it, it eludes our grasp, slips past us, and vanishes for ever. Nothing stays for us. This is our natural condition and yet most contrary to our inclination; we burn with desire to find solid ground and an ultimate sure foundation whereon to build a tower reaching to the Infinite. But our whole groundwork cracks, and the earth opens to abysses.
Let us, therefore, not look for certainty and stability. Our reason is always deceived by fickle shadows; nothing can fix the finite between the two Infinites, which both enclose and fly from it.
I have always viewed this passage as an apt decription of the human condition. Hum-an as in hum -us, hum -or, hum -ility.
An alternate interpretation would be to read the above as the arrogant boast of a fool. For all his surface humility, Pascal presents a series of sweeping declarations, universal and categorical. For all his talk of the impossibility of certainty, he speaks with unflinching certainty. Consider the semantic arrogance:
"[Man] is infinitely removed from comprehending the extremes …"
"We are something, and we are not everything."
"The nature of our existence hides from us the knowledge of first beginnings …"
"This is our true state …"
If Pascal really believed that "our reason is always deceived by fickle shadows," then shouldn't he be avoiding such excessive language? He should say something more like "It seems to me that our reason is often deceived by what appear to be fickle shadows." The arrogance of his language undercuts his point.
Or perhaps it doesn't.
Perhaps our innate inability to know truth with certainty does not preclude us from the necessity (both practical and moral) of seeking and stating truth as we are able to see it. Perhaps, as Pascal thought, the fickle shadows that deceive our reason ought not also be allowed to cloud our language.
"If thought corrupts language," Orwell wrote, "language can also corrupt thought." One of the benefits, he argued, of stating what you are trying to say with as much simplicity and clarity as possible is that "when you make a stupid remark its stupidity will be obvious, even to yourself."
In the nearly two-year history of this blog, I have made quite a few stupid remarks. I will make more, you can be certain.
Knowing this, it might be safer to adopt a language that hedges its bets with Delphic, Broderian ambiguities. Rather than saying "'Buffy' was one of the best shows ever on TV," I could say "I think 'Buffy' seems to be worthy of consideration as possibly one of the best shows ever on TV." The former is arguable, but it is ultimately either right or wrong. The latter is inarguable, but whether it is right or wrong is ultimately of no consequence.
"Certainty and stability" are not human options, Pascal argued. Therefore, he said, we must all place our bets. Win or lose.
A professor of mine in college liked to tell the story of a student who, stumped by an essay question about which he knew nothing, wrote a voluminous answer about something else. That student's professor wrote on the exam: "This isn't right. This isn't even wrong." The professor who told us that story challenged us to "aspire to the dignity, at least, of being wrong."
We may be "ever drifting in uncertainty," but let us at least aspire to the dignity of being wrong.
Ad-Free & Subscriber Log-In