Laurent Grenier, independent philosopher, 10 February 2026 – Modern science, together with Buddhist philosophy from the distant past, teaches us that direct experience should be the ultimate master that dictates what to believe. But then the whole thing becomes circuitous: If direct experience is all there is that cannot be doubted, we can only legitimately believe in direct experience. In other words, the cogito of René Descartes should be “I perceive, therefore I am.” The “I” is simply there to indicate that the act of perception is not a disembodied affair, outside of time and space, but relates to a perceiving subject, whatever we have to say about it.
The problem is, as soon as an element of experience is related to another to form a complex idea of relatedness, either belonging to the category of coincidence or consequence, which are often easy to confuse, we are constructing something that exceeds direct experience. That something then concerns the realm of thought—mediated by concepts—in tandem with language.
Note that this problem leaves untouched the epistemological one pertaining to realism, according to which there is an outward reality that is independent of the inward consciousness we have of it. Admittedly, this distinction, made famous by Immanuel Kant, is a consummate abstraction that leaves us gaping with a feeling of helplessness. All we have is what we perceive, and we can only hope that our perception is good enough to guarantee our survival through effective mental representation and practical action.
That said, the only way we can remain true to direct experience is to stay quiet in a state of awakened thoughtlessness, simply paying attention to the changeable nature of our experience and the vital complementarity of our incoming and outgoing breath, with a mystical sense of universal fluidity and unity. No conversation with anyone, because no thoughts and no words—which imply no participation in human culture and contribution to it.
However, this goes against the grain of our being, as living entities that seek strength in numbers in the face of existential challenges. To wit, we seek collaboration with other living entities for the constitution of an expansive culture, as a repository of useful insights that are designed to help us, collectively, live sound, meaningful, and fulfilling lives.
I have thus reached the conclusion that the world of thought and language, and therefore of belief and doubt, is still worth the trouble. But we must be mindful of the following caveat: Knowledge, cast in concepts and words, is forever doomed to remain a work in progress. It must constantly be recalibrated, thanks to a persistent willingness to question it in the light of new evidence. Indeed, concepts and words are mere placeholders for a certain level of conformity with facts, which are the fabric of experience and are true to the reality of things insofar as they lead to vital effectiveness. Hence, from a pragmatic standpoint, truth is a function of utility. It follows the logic of life driven by nature to survive and thrive.
In the end, the possibility of becoming wiser through learning is the ethical weight of knowledge, and virtue is measured in humility, open to the prospect of being wrong and striving to get closer to truth, ergo, vital effectiveness. Of course, this effectiveness is liable to present new challenges as our circumstances change, which only reinforces the need to revisit what used to work when it no longer does.
There remains a sticking point: Do we side with William James and reckon that, in matters of faith, assumed by many to be pleasant fictions, we should simply gauge their degree of contribution to people’s well-being? I am inclined to do so as a token of kindness towards those who take this faith seriously and for whom it represents an indispensable saving grace. After all, who are we to declare with absolute authority that the supernatural God of great religions, however improbable it may be, doesn’t exist? Personally, following the motto “live and let live,” I would rather build bridges than erect walls between me and others, which entails holding my tongue for everything that appears questionable, yet both ethical and undecidable.
