Abstract
“Follow the way by which they began; by acting as if they believed, taking the holy water, having masses said, etc.” The well-known lines from Pascal’s much-discussed fragment “infini rien” have been much commented on. In this context, the keyword self-deception comes up surprisingly often, partly as a criticism of Pascal’s presumed strategy, partly in an attempt to make these lines fruitful for the current discussion on self-deception. I remind the latter attempts to consider an important condition for the success of the “regimen”, which becomes clear when one reflects on the internal characterisation of Pascal’s interlocutor. For if we take into account the kind of self-knowledge we must ascribe to her, we cannot regard her as someone whom acting-as-if naturally leads to faith, but as someone who has already been touched by the grace of God.
Zusammenfassung
„Lernt von denjenigen usw., die wie Ihr gebunden waren [...] sie handelten in allem so, als glaubten sie, sie gebrauchten Weihwasser, ließen Messen lesen usw. ...“ Die bekannten Zeilen aus Pascals Fragment „infini rien“ haben viel Aufmerksamkeit auf sich gezogen und vielfach zu der These Anlass gegeben, hier werde eine Selbsttäuschung beschrieben. Teils wird dieser Weg zum Glauben hierdurch kritisch kommentiert, teils affirmativer so gedeutet, als könne man jenen Zeilen ein implizites Modell der Selbsttäuschung entnehmen.
Dieser Aufsatz richtet sich an Vertreter der letzten Interpretationsvariante, die Pascal und die Selbsttäuschung zusammenzubringen versucht. Er weist sie auf eine wichtige Voraussetzung für den Erfolg des nachahmenden Handelns hin, die sich der Charakterisierung des eingebundenen Gesprächspartners entnehmen lässt. Beachtet man nämlich, dass Pascal dem Gesprächspartner, der den Weg zum Glauben erfragt, eine aus Pascals Perspektive höchst ungewöhnliche Selbsterkenntnis zubilligt, so zeigt sich, dass der Fragende, dem hier Rat erteilt wird, auf dem Weg zum Glauben schon weit fortgeschritten und dass er von der unverfügbaren Gnade Gottes bereits berührt ist. Wenn aber die Nachahmung von Glaubenspraktiken für Pascal kein Weg ist, der Beliebige zum Glauben führt, so lässt sich Pascals Rat an dieser Stelle auch kein „Modell“ der Selbsttäuschung oder Überzeugungsbeeinflussung entnehmen.
You would like to attain faith, and do not know the way; you would like to cure yourself of unbelief, and ask the remedy for it. Learn of those who have been bound like you, and who now stake all their possessions. These are people who know the way which you would follow, and who are cured of an ill of which you would be cured. Follow the way by which they began; by acting as if they believed, taking the holy water, having masses said, etc. Even this will naturally make you believe, and deaden your acuteness (abêtira).[1]
The well-known lines from Pascal’s much-discussed fragment “infini rien” (i. e. what is discussed as his “wager”[2]) have been much commented on. In this context, the keyword self-deception appears surprisingly often. More precisely, we can distinguish at least two contexts in which it occurs: A first way of referring these lines to issues of self-deception is reproachful. We find it in commentators who think that Pascal is describing an epistemically vicious path to faith which comes down to a “self-inflicted brainwashing”[3] or, as said, to “self-deception”[4]. A second way is related but appreciative. It shares the view that something like self-deception is described in these lines, but sees this as a basis for connecting Pascal to the current debate on self-deception.[5] Thereby, Pascal is typically treated as a possible source of ideas for intentionalist theories of self-deception. For example, Mark Johnston (as a critic of intentionalist approaches) refers to these lines in which he sees “self-deceptive action plans”[6] being carried out. Similarly, José Luis Bermúdez quotes them to attribute to Pascal the (according to Bermúdez: correct) thesis that intentional self-deception is a “long-term process”[7]. And from the theological side, these lines also appear in William Wood’s reflections on Pascal’s presumed contribution to the self-deception debate. If we follow him, then it is true that
[i]n the most important philosophical contribution of the wager fragment, Pascal shows that it is possible to intend a temporally extended process of self-persuasion. Simply put, executing an intention need not be a single, instantaneous act. Intentional agency extends through time.[8]
For the discussion of self-deception, we can therefore learn according to Wood:
Sinful self-deception begins in the imagination, as the self-deceiver is spontaneously presented with an array of different interpretations of his moral situation [...] he then accepts a false interpretation, and persuades himself that it is true with rhetorical and behavioral techniques. He engages in a persuasive program of internal rhetoric, and he acts as if his favored interpretation is true. This project of self-persuasion mechanically causes him to believe his favored, false interpretation.[9]
The reproachful variant of linking these lines to the problem of self-deception deserves criticism. But that is not what I am concerned with here. My critical concerns here are directed only against variants of the second way. The problem I wish to address is the following: By applying these lines to the current discussion, they presuppose that for Pascal the relevant new beliefs arise naturellement from acting as if (or from this acting as if and the “internal rhetoric”). But this is precisely what Pascal does not assume. He implies a further condition of success which becomes clear when one turns one’s gaze to the question of whom he is addressing with the recommendation in the first place.
By raising this point, my text is understood as a critical contribution to a specific use of Pascal in a systematic (philosophical) debate. However, as my critique builds argumentatively on contouring more precisely Pascal’s implicit interlocutor, my text claims to accentuate an aspect that is also of interest for the more historical-exegetical Pascal research.
I. Pascal’s recommended regimen
At first glance, the aforementioned presupposition that for Pascal the relevant new beliefs arise naturellement from acting as if or from this acting as if and the “inner rhetoric”) seems unproblematic. Pascal indeed seems to be giving the implicit interlocutor the complex hint that she should learn from those who already believe. But these in turn have come to believe by pretending to believe. So learning from them means acting as if one believed. If this strategy is successful, it seems to be so because the following is true: imitating behaviour which is typical or characteristic of religious faith (whatever that ultimately consists of) is sufficient to eventually – and naturellement – acquire religious faith (whatever that ultimately consists of).
But does Pascal assume this in these lines? The fragment is sparse with helpful clues, but other fragments seem to support the above reasoning. For example, it is evident that Pascal regards custom as at least one important source not only of nontheistic beliefs but also of those that constitute genuine religious faith. As L419 notes: “Custom is our nature. Someone who is accustomed to the faith believes it, can no longer fear hell, and doesn’t believe anything else.“[10]
If Pascal writes this, why should one still hesitate to attribute to him the thesis that acting as if naturally leads to faith?
Well, for one thing, I would expect different instructions for action if Pascal’s regimen was to rely on the power of custom. Taking incense seems less important than exposing oneself to the community of believers to participate in their prayers and praises.[11] But there is a second and more important reason to be hesitant: Pascal would have answered in a most misleading way if he had invoked such a background.
Why would Pascal’s answer be misleading? Well, the problem lies in the fact that for Pascal custom as a source of faith is associated with a serious limitation. After all, Pascal leaves little doubt that in religious matters custom is only a source for what he calls la foi humaine (L110). La foi humaine, however, is to be understood as a kind of faith that is useless for salvation (inutile pour le salut, L110). Sufficient for salvation is only a faith that is graciously and futilely brought about by inspiration: “The christian religion, which alone has reason, does not acknowledge as her true children those who believe without inspiration.”[12]
If we assume that the interlocutor does not want to know how to attain this foi humaine, but that she is asking about the way to salvation, then the problem of Pascal’s answer is obvious. Either he misses the point of the question and thus its answer; or he understands the point of the question and gives an answer that he himself can only regard as useless or useful only by accident (i. e. on condition that God unconditionally decides to awaken faith in the person who pretends to act as if she believes). But then he should have answered less misleadingly and made the true status of his regimen clearer to the interlocutor. If he does not do this, he nurtures false hopes.[13]
In fact, there is another problem related to this first proposal: it fails to recognize the role that Pascal assigns to the practices that constitute the proposed regimen. As Pascal makes clear, he does not assume that acting as if directly cultivates belief. Rather, he assumes that the relevant practices promote faith indirectly by destroying the obstacles that stand in the way of faith. Thus Pascal writes immediately before introducing his regimen:
But at least take in that your inability to believe comes from your passions. That must be its source, because reason brings you to belief and yet you can’t believe. Work on it, then, to convince yourself, not by strengthening the proofs of God but by weakening your passions.[14]
If we take Pascal at his word here, then the regimen is relevant precisely in that it trims our faith-aversive passions and tempers them. L944 gives us further hints to the relevant “tempering”. According to it, the practices have a humbling effect in so far as they foster our self-submission to the bodily being: “To get anything from God we must combine the external with the internal: we must kneel, pray with the lips, etc., so that the proud man who wouldn’t submit to God may now submit to the creature.”[15] (L944)
This supposedly humiliating effect deserves further attention, of course. But let me continue my investigation and rather ask: Should we assume, then, that while the regimen does not directly lead to the sharing of a certain worldview, it does indirectly, by alleviating passions that stand in its way?
At the very least, this approach makes it more plausible why Pascal cites practices that grab us by the nose and the body, rather than merely recommending that we immerse ourselves in a particular ideology. But of course the problem of a misleading answer remains if Pascal sees these practices not only as controlling our passions but also as controlling divine inspiration. Does Pascal accept this?
There are indications that Pascal plays with this idea. For instance, in L808 (already partially quoted above) he writes the following:
There are three sources of belief: reason, custom, inspiration. The christian religion, which alone has reason, does not acknowledge as her true children those who believe without inspiration. It is not that she excludes reason and custom. On the contrary, the mind must be opened to proofs, must be confirmed by custom and offer itself in humbleness to inspirations, which alone can produce a true and saving effect.[16]
As these lines suggest, the regimen might be regarded as a way of offering oneself to inspirations. The saving effect is theirs; but the offering to their saving effect seems to be ours. The problem of a misleading answer disappears if grace is meant to follow naturally from this offering.
So, is this, after all, the idea behind Pascal’s optimism? If we decide to affirm this, we have to read Pascal as a preparationist. Is this plausible? It depends. For one thing, Pascal can present his own conversion as the meritum of a day’s work.[17] Furthermore, there are passages which have invited interpreters to speak of a typical (Jansenist[18] or apologetically presupposed[19]) “activism”. Still, I have problems with this reading. One worry one may have here is articulated by Jennifer Herdt when she writes: “no one as deeply influenced by Jansenism as Pascal could equate ‘belief‘ with ‘true faith‘, that is, accept that divine grace could be made a necessary concomitant of human activity.”[20] But if Pascal indeed assumes that divine inspiration of faith naturellement follows the suggested regimen, then he turns grace into “necessary concomitant of human activity”. Divine inspiration becomes, as I said, a meritum – and this is in contradiction to Pascal’s anti-Pelagian[21] considerations such as the following:
Hence those to whom it pleases God to give this grace, are led of themselves by their free will to prefer God infallibly to the creature. And this is why it is said indifferently either that free will goes there of itself by means of this grace, because it does indeed go there, or that this grace goes there with free will, because whenever it is given, free infallibly goes there.[22]
So there is reason to hesitate again. And in fact, the Pensées also give clear indications that Pascal has problems with such a reading. Actually, these problems are articulated in a passage already partially quoted. For when Pascal alludes to the humiliating effect of certain bodily practices, the entire passage reads as follows:
The external must be joined to the internal to obtain anything from God, that is to say, we must kneel, pray with the lips, etc., in order that proud man, who would not submit himself to God, may be now subject to the creature. To expect help from these externals is superstition; to refuse to join them to the internal is pride.[23]
If preparationism is some kind of superstition for Pascal, then he cannot really accept the idea that the regimen leads to saving faith naturellement.
But isn’t that exactly what Pascal says in the lines quoted at the beginning? Must we say that his recommendation is somehow misleading or in tension[24] with his theory of grace?[25] I don’t think Pascal is forcing us to make this diagnosis. To see this, however, we should look more closely at how Pascal characterises the person who, in his opinion, comes to faith through the regimen naturellement.
II. Pascal’s portrait of the interlocutor
Pascal’s recommendation does not come out of the blue and is not part of just any text, but presented as part of a dialogue or “discourse”. More precisely: It is part of an answer directed at an interlocutor. She is not introduced by her name or by aspects of her biography, and we know hardly anything of her. All, we get to know from her is what she says.[26]
What do we learn about her through what she says? And does that matter at all? Opinions differ on this point. Some readers (including the abovementioned “self-deception” readers) pass over the portrait as if it were obviously irrelevant. Some readers warn against giving it too much weight.[27] Many just take it for granted that the one who asks about faith is a “libertine”[28] who was initially indifferent or averse to faith, but who has been moved by Pascal’s reflection at least to the point of asking how she can attain the high good. If we grant her this movement through the “wager”, she could therefore be someone who – as Pascal says elsewhere – strives for the high good of faith “out of a selfish and self-serving impulse”[29].
That Pascal’s reflections are not “pour le libertin” has already been suggested by others[30], though not on that very basis which I find particularly illuminating. I would therefore like to bring it to light. To do this, let’s assume that it is indeed Pascal’s intention to stage a short dialogue in which such a partner plays a decisive role. How would Pascal most likely portray her? What would he have her say? I assume it would be something like the following:
Yes, M. Pascal, your considerations convince me. Faith, of which I initially thought rather little, or which I was rather indifferent to, now seems immensely attractive to me; and indeed: I would like to have it. It promises great reward. But as you know, I cannot simply press a faith button and ‘switch on’ faith in me. So what should I do? How do I acquire this promising and auspicious good called faith?
Interestingly, Pascal’s interlocutor is far from saying such a thing. She does not comment on Pascal’s ingenuity, and she does not comment on the attractiveness of faith. Rather, she says the following words: “Yes but my hands are tied and my tongue is mute. I am forced to wager and yet not free to do so. I am not released from betting, and yet I am so made that I cannot believe. What do you want me to do?”[31] Pascal’s recommended regimen is the answer to this very question and to this very speech.
What is the point of this speech? Many would simply say: it has none. But others are more cautious. Anderson and Collette see someone in deep “frustration”[32]. Gouthier seems to share this view, but stresses another point: the danger that this frustration brings: discouragement. For him, these words are spoken by someone “qui voudrait bien croire et qui, ne le pouvant pas au moment où sa raison l’y pouse, risque de se décourager”.[33] Wetsel opens up another perspective. For him, these words are an “attempt[] to cry foul”[34]:
He protests but is forced assent to the wager that God exists by no means makes him a believer. While agreeing to make a conscious, albeit obligatory, decision to believe, he lacks inner conviction. He attributes this lack of inner conviction to a deficiency in his constitution [...] “Que voulezvous donc que je fasse” (“What do you want me to do then?”) represents not so much a cry of despair as a final attempt to be let off the hook. The entire wager is beside the point, he seems to be telling Pascal, in the absence of an inner faculty of belief.[35]
That Wetsel pays attention to these remarks at all is worthy of praise. Unfortunately, he misses an important point. What I find particularly remarkable about the words of our interlocutor is that they all express a certain self-knowledge, more precisely: a self-knowledge that has as its theme the interlocutor’s fundamental powerlessness. She is thrown back onto herself where she finds her tied hands and her mute mouth that cannot praise God. She finds herself in a situation where she has to make a game bet and cannot make the one she wants. She finds herself caught in a situation she wants to escape but whose exit strategy she does not know. Whatever that person feels (she may very well be frustrated, she may also by very desperate), she first of all acknowledges something: her fundamental powerlessness.
Why does this acknowledgement deserve our attention? Well, because Pascal cannot help but regard it as a most remarkable kind of self-knowledge.
Let me explain this briefly: As is well known, Pascal draws a picture of fallen humankind according to which we are first and for the most part on the run from self-knowledge. We disperse, and what drives us to this purposeful dispersion worthy of its name is a feeling we have of our misery (this misery is also categorised as: “son néant, son abandon, son insuffisance, sa dépendance, son impuissance, son vide,” L622).[36]
According to Pascal, this feeling of one’s own misery familiarises us with our own misery just enough to motivate us to distraction. However, the feeling as such does not yet convey a genuine knowledge of one’s own misery, which would be accompanied by the ability to articulate it and conceptualise it, for instance, as powerlessness. As Pascal points out, even in the “perfect calm” in which a distinctive confrontation with our misery is meant to occur, this extraordinary confrontation consists of nothing more than feelings that are opaque as to their true cause. More precisely: The relevant shift here consists only in the fact that what was nothing more than a motivation for distraction becomes itself the focus of our attention and is perceived in its peculiar phenomenal quality, through which it manifests itself as plaguing fatigue, melancholy, sadness, annoyance, despair (“l’ennui, la noirceur, la tristesse, le chagrin, le dépit, le désespoir”)[37] etc. But even then, as said, these feelings remain opaque to their true cause and our true misery. As L36 points out: “but take away diversion, and you will see them dried up with weariness. They feel then their nothingness without knowing it”.[38]
If we return to our interlocutor, we seem to be able to say that she is by no means only connected to her abandonment, her powerlessness and impotence (“son abandon, son insuffisance, ... son impuissance”) through a somehow opaque feeling. Rather, she acknowledges her misery, she confesses[39] it, and she laments[40] about it. But then something extraordinary must have happened to her that interrupts the usual relation to her misery.
In his Conversion of the Sinner Pascal gives us a clear hint what this extraordinary thing is for him: a working of grace or divine inspiration. When Pascal writes: “The first thing with which God inspires the soul that he deigns to touch truly is a knowledge and most extraordinary insight by which the soul considers things and herself in a manner wholly new.“[41] – does this not refer to something like the recognition of our interlocutor? If “son abandon, son insuffisance, ... son impuissance” are usually either fled or only perceived par sentiment, then acknowledging them has to be regarded as a “manner [of relating] wholly new”.
But, according to Pascal this “manner wholly new” comprises more:
She begins to know God, and to desire to reach him; but as she is ignorant of the means of attaining this, if her desire is sincere and true, she does the same as a person who, desiring to reach some place, having lost his way, and knowing his aberration, would have recourse to those who knew this way perfectly [...] She resolves to conform to his will during the remainder of her life [.][42]
Apparently, the extraordinary way of considering herself comes along with an extraordinary wish (the “desire to reach him”). This brings us back to our interlocutor, who is, after all, by seeking the way to faith also seeking the way to God.[43]
However, one last aspect needs to be mentioned. As Pascal points out, the person who received God’s first inspirations “resolves to conform to his will during the remainder of her life”. It seems to me that these remarks contain a hint as to how we should deal with the “que voulez-vous donc que je fasse”. Contrary to Wetsel, what seems to be expressed here is not “a final attempt to be let off the hook” but rather a reflex of this new willingness to conform to the will of some Other. The person may not yet be ready to say “votre volonté soit fait”, as she will eventually do when she sincerely prays the Lord’s prayer. But nevertheless, this person is ready to submit to the will of the Other. So these words also invite us to read them as a sign of some “first inspiration” and not as a gruff attempt to get “off the hook”.
If my observation is correct, then the implicit portrait of the interlocutor deserves our full attention because Pascal presents her as someone bearing a sign of conversion and of grace.[44] This, however, means: In having her find her tied hands, her muted mouth and her powerlessness, Pascal presents her as not being on the way to eventually (and after the regimen) be touched by God’s grace but rather as someone who has already been touched by God’s grace. The regimen does then not pave the way to a future divine inspiration; the readiness to undergo the regimen already is presented as following from divine inspiration.
If this is true, then these lines cannot be used to ascribe to Pascal a confidence in the transformative power of as-if. At best, they can be used as evidence of Pascal’s confidence that God will continue the work he has begun. Hence, when Pascal elsewhere writes in a fragment entitled “J.C.” “Take comfort! You would not seek me if you had not found me [...] Your conversion is my business.”[45], then the recommended regimen does not oppose this.
III. Concluding remarks
My reading challenges the aforementioned attempts to relate Pascal to current discussion of self-deception. Unless we are prepared to admit that “Pascalian” contributions to systematic questions may be completely indifferent to what this real Pascal had in mind (but then why should we call them “Pascalian”?), applying this Pascalian reflections to our current debate is problematic. For if we remain true to what Pascal presupposes, we have to regard the genuine desire to attain a self-deceptive belief as a sign of a working of grace that will eventually bring about the desired belief – and this is as unattractive for the non-theist as it is for the theist.
Let me conclude by expressing two concerns about my reading. First, if this is what Pascal really has in mind, should he not have taken more pains to make his point? There are two answers to this question. First, the Pensées are a fragment.[46] We do not know how much weight this portrait would have been given in the final version. Secondly, Pascal – well aware that we all have a tendency to read too quickly or too slowly and therefore to overlook crucial aspects[47] – makes it clear at the very end that he regards every reader who is satisfied with his reflections not only as the relevant Other of his reflections and advice, but also as the Other of his intercession. After all, the fragment concludes with the words:
If this discourse pleases you and seems to have force, know that its author is a man who has knelt, both before and after it, in prayer to the infinite and indivisible being before whom he lays all he has, praying that all that you have may also be laid before him for your good and for his glory, so that power may harmonise with this lowliness.[48]
Pascal thus stresses that the one who is pleased and moved by the argument can only be moved by “the infinite and indivisible being”. These remarks underline my above reading.
A second concern relates to the relevance of my reflections to philosophical reflections of the “wager”. Is it relevant for them to show “that one can reconcile the wager argument with a strong sense of predestination”[49]? Well, if Pascal’s recommendation presupposes “a strong sense of predestination”, then my consideration is relevant to those philosophical contributions that assume that they can relate his recommendation to other contexts as if this Pascalian presupposition did not exist.
Acknowledgement
I thank two anonymous readers for helpful comments on an earlier version of the essay
© 2023 Simone Neuber, published by Walter de Gruyter GmbH, Berlin/Boston
This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License.
