Zeitschriftenartikel zum Thema „Descartes, René (1596-1650) – Physique“

Jean-Antoine Nollet et la diffusion de l’étude de l’électricité : un nouveau lexique pour une nouvelle science. Les études sur l'électricité et le magnétisme n'ont pas subi un développement considérable depuis les expériences de William Gilbert (1544-1603) avec la boussole et l'ambre jaune, si l'on excepte les contributions de René Descartes (1596-1650) et Otto von Guericke (1602-1686), inventeur de la machine électrique de globes de soufre génératrice d'électricité statique. Cependant, au début du XVIIIe siècle, différents scientifiques (Hauksbee, Grey y Wheler, Dufay, Musschenbroek...) ont commencé à développer en Europe un nombre important d’expériences, que serviront à jeter les bases du développement ultérieur de la science de l’électricité. Pourtant, les nouvelles de ces expériences et découvertes, ne sont connues que d’un secteur minoritaire de la communauté scientifique jusqu’à la publication des ouvrages de l’abbé Jean-Antoine Nollet (1700-1770), vrai divulgateur des études sur l’électricité non seulement en France mais dans toute l’Europe. Les scientifiques espagnols ne mirent pas longtemps non plus à se faire l’écho des expériences de Nollet - qui rivalisait à cette époque-là avec Franklin. Ses textes non seulement furent lus, mais encore ils furent bientôt traduits en espagnol : Vázquez y Morales traduisit, tout juste un an après sa parution, l'Essai sur l'électricité des corps (1746) qui devint le premier livre consacré à l’électricité publié en Espagne ; les Leçons de physique expérimentale - éditées en France huit fois - furent traduites dans notre langue en 1747 par Zacagnini ; finalement, la traduction des Lettres sur l'électricité par Antoni Juglà i Font fut lue pendant les séances de l’Académie Royale des Sciences Naturelles et des Arts de Barcelone. Mais la diffusion des textes de l’abbé Nollet dans la Péninsule n’eut pas seulement comme conséquence inmédiate la constitution de l’électricité en tant que nouvelle discipline d’étude. Par leur intermédiaire, la langue espagnole se renouvelle, de telle façon que celle-ci devra désormais ouvrir les portes à un nombre considérable de termes de création récente, les adoptant et les incorporant au lexique commun, tel qu’on peut l’observer dans différents répertoires lexicographiques. Une lecture attentive des oeuvres de J.-A. Nollet nous a permis de connaître et d’évaluer l’apport de celles-ci à la science et à la langue espagnole.

René Descartes (1596–1650) was born at La Haye, near Tours in France. He entered the Jesuit School at La Flèche in 1606, where he studied Latin and Greek and the classical authors, and acquired respect for the certainty of mathematics and distaste for the theories of Aristotle as developed by medieval commentators. In 1616, he took a degree in law at the University of Poitiers. There followed a period during which he travelled, for some of the time as a gentleman-officer in the armies of Maurice of Nassau, Prince of Orange, and Maximilian, Duke of Bavaria. In 1625 he returned to Paris and renewed his acquaintance with Father Marin Mersenne, who was later instrumental in making his views known to many of the famous intellectuals in Europe. From 1628 to 1649 he lived in Holland and worked out in detail the scientific, philosophical and mathematical ideas that had engaged him during his travels. His main philosophical works are Rules for the Direction of the Mind, written in 1629–30 but not published until 1684, Discourse on Method, 1637, Meditations, 1641, Principles of Philosophy, 1644, and The Passions of the Soul, 1649. In 1649, Descartes accepted an invitation to visit the Queen of Sweden and instruct her in philosophy. He succumbed to the rigorous climate, and died in February 1650.

The mathematical investigations of natural phenomena in the seventeenth century led to the inventions of calculus and probability. While we know the works of eminent natural philosophers and mathematicians such as Isaac Newton (1643-1727), we know little about the learned women who made important contributions in the seventeenth century. This article features Princess Elisabeth of Bohemia (1618-1680), whose intellectual ability and curiosity left a unique mark in the history of mathematics. While some of her family members were deeply involved in politics, Elisabeth led an independent, scholarly life, and she was a close correspondent of René Descartes (1596-1650) and Gottfried Leibniz (1646-1716).

An appreciation of the geometry underlying algebraic techniques invariably enhances understanding, and this is particularly true with regard to polynomials. With visualisation as our theme, this article considers the cubic equation and describes how the French mathematicians François Viète (1540–1603) and René Descartes (1596–1650) related the ‘three-real-roots’ case (casus irreducibilis) to circle geometry. In particular, attention is focused on a previously undescribed aspect, namely, how the lengths of the chords constructed by Viète and Descartes in this setting relate geometrically to the curve of the cubic itself.

É notória a incompatibilidade entre o behaviorismo radical, monista, e o dualismo (mente-corpo). A obra de René Descartes (1596-1650) – o cartesianismo – tem sido associada ao dualismo mente-corpo. Essa suposição deriva possivelmente da utilização por Descartes, ao longo de sua obra, de palavras como “mente”, “espírito” e “alma”. É possível encontrar no manual do behaviorismo radical de Baum (1999/1994) asserções sobre tal incompatibilidade. Este artigo apresenta uma análise dos escritos originais de Descartes, com resultados que não demonstraram a priori a incompatibilidade apontada pelos behavioristas radicais, como Baum. Para Descartes, “mente” não é uma entidade imaterial, ou um “homúnculo” autor de ideias, ou um arquivo de conhecimentos e experiências, mas apenas a capacidade de aprender a pensar (comportar-se). O autor descreve a relação mente-corpo como indissociável.

The assumption that the Cartesian bête-machine is the invention of René Descartes (1596–1650) is rarely contested. Close examination of Descartes’ texts proves that this is a concept founded not on the basis of his own writings, but a subsequent critical interpretation, which developed and began to dominate his work after his death. Descartes’ Treatise on Man, published posthumously in two rival editions, Florentius Schuyl’s Latin translation De Homine (1662), and Claude Clerselier’s Traité de l’ homme, has proved particularly problematic. The surviving manuscript copies of the Treatise on Man left no illustrations, leaving both editors the daunting task of producing a set of images to accompany and clarify the fragmented text. In this intriguing case, the images can be seen to have spoken louder than the text which they illustrated. This paper assesses Schuyl’s choice to represent Descartes’ Man in a highly stylized manner, without superimposing Clerselier’s intentions onto De Homine.

Τhe article will examine the remedies proposed by René Descartes (1596-1650), in order to deal with unpleasant passions and their excesses, as highlighted in his last work, The Passions of the Soul (1649). In this work, Descartes attempts to reach the core of emotion and, with the help of physiology, to analyse it rationally. The aim of the French philosopher is deeply moral. The demand for a practical philosophy had occupied him since the Sixth Part of his emblematic Discourse on the Method (1637). In The Passions of the Soul this demand is satisfied. Our analysis shows that Descartes' ethics is one of action. Life requires decisions, regardless of their end result. With free will as the cornerstone of his ethical structure, Descartes will set up an educational system for regulating the passions. In dealing with this problem, Descartes opted for a «strategy of generosity». Generosity, the most important notion of Cartesian ethics and the primary remedy that Descartes suggests for useless desires, is a passion and turns into a virtue when passion becomes a habit.

Abstract The quest for an indisputable foundation of all knowledge has been one of the driving forces behind intellectual history. In the European tradition it is mainly connected to René Descartes (1596–1650) and his Meditations on First Philosophy whereas in the Islamic world it was already expressed in a brilliant manner by Abū Ḥāmid al-Ġazālī (1058–1111) in his book entitled Deliverance from Error. The article investigates both these texts by contextualizing them within the long history of intellectual autobiographies, which stretches from antiquity to the present and comprises many exciting examples from Asia and Europe.

O filósofo René Descartes (1596-1650) em seus escritos sobre as Meditações sobre a Filosofia Primeira, especificamente na Quarta Meditação, aborda a problemática do erro diante dos juízos emitidos pelo homem. Esse tema foi de grande importância para autor, pois com esses escritos ele almejava alcançar bases sólidas para o edifício do conhecimento científico. No afã de descobrir as causas do erro a fim de evitá-las, Descartes sugere uma estreita relação entre o erro e a vontade, situando o mau uso do livre-arbítrio como fonte dos falsos juízos. Este artigo pretende apresentar a relação entre a vontade e o erro, definindo a compreensão cartesiana dos mesmos, bem como mostrar o papel de Deus nessa relação e qual é um possível caminho para se evitar o juízo errôneo.

René Descartes (1596 –1650) ficou marcado na história do pensamento como o pai do mecanicismo moderno, sobretudo com o seu método científico dedutivo, idealizado principalmente nas Regras para Direção do Espírito (1628) e no Discurso do Método (1637). Grande parte da literatura aponta a ciência cartesiana como extremamente racionalista, algo muito distante das experiências e hipóteses, feita única e exclusivamente pelo entendimento, a partir das intuições puras e deduções racionais. Entretanto, pretendemos aqui, mostrar uma possível abertura do filósofo francês para o conhecimento adquirido com o auxílio das hipóteses imaginadas e experiências percebidas. Mostraremos como uma de suas últimas obras, o Princípios (1644), demonstra um lado prático da filosofia de Descartes, onde o autor, parece mudar um pouco sua metodologia rígida, abrindo um grande espaço para as sensações e imaginações em sua física.

A presente pesquisa tem a finalidade de apresentar os métodos epistemológicos de dois grandes nomes do desenvolvimento da ciência moderna, são eles: Francis Bacon (1561-1626) e René Descartes (1596-1650). O primeiro é considerado inventor do método experimental e fundador da ciência moderna, suas obras se caracterizam pela predominância da noção de que a ciência e a filosofia tinham a finalidade de dar ao homem o domínio da realidade. O segundo é responsável por aprimorar o método da dúvida que é por ele levado às últimas consequências seguindo um caminho rigoroso em busca de verdades que possam sustentar o desenvolvimento científico. O escopo de nosso texto, portanto, será centrado nas obras Novum Organum, do filósofo inglês, e nas Meditações, do filósofo francês. Bacon, em o Novum Organum, põe em evidência o aspecto limitado da ciência de sua época. Descartes, por sua vez, nas Meditações, relata a incerteza acerca dos princípios que sustentavam a ciência vigente em seu período. Nesse sentido, ambos se debruçam sobre a questão principal da modernidade: como conhecemos? Respondendo a tal questão, os filósofos em voga em nossa análise desenvolveram, cada um a seu modo, métodos pelos quais a investigação científica deve proceder.

René Descartes (1596-1650) em sua obra “Méditations sur la Philosophie Prémière” apresenta uma avaliação crítica do conhecimento através da escolha de um método que lhe permite duvidar de forma radical e hiperbólica do conhecimento de todas as coisas. Neste artigo veremos como tal atividade racional-reflexiva, que recebeu o nome de dúvida metódica, se desenvolve. Através da análise minuciosa da Primeira, Segunda e Sexta Meditação, mostraremos os passos dados pelo filósofo em questão a fim de demonstrar como este método inaugurou uma perspectiva de reflexão introspectiva que permitiu a construção da crença em um “eu” que, enquanto sujeito do conhecimento, é o único responsável pelos processos cognitivos.

In the early seventeenth century, there existed a myriad of theories to account for color phenomena. The status, goal, and content of such accounts differed as well as the range of phenomena they explained. Starting with the journal of Isaac Beeckman (1588–1637), this essay inquires into the features and functions of conceptual reflections upon color experiences. Beeckman played a crucial role in the intellectual development of René Descartes (1596–1650), while at the same time their ideas differed crucially. Early corpuscular conceptions of colors cannot be reduced to the mechanistic variety of Descartes. Moreover, the optical rather than corpuscular features of Descartes’s understanding of colors were essential. A stratification of conceptualizations is proposed that is grounded in various problem contexts rather than philosophical doctrines, thus opening a way to interpret the philosophical parts of color worlds in a more diverse way.

O presente artigo analisa as contribuições epistemológicas e metodológicas do filósofo e matemático René Descartes (1596 – 1650) ao campo jurídico, culminando na reflexão das limitações do método proposto por tal pensador e da necessidade de complementação da visão jurídica neste tocante. O caminho metodológico utilizado não pretendeu esgotar as obras do autor, ao passo que restringiu-se no “Discurso do Método”, apoiado pelas “Meditações Metafísicas”, para demonstrar como da teoria cartesiana é possível derivar preceitos fundantes do Direito, em especial, a percepção utilitária acerca do conhecimento e a emancipação por intermédio do entendimento do discurso. Desta forma, foi possível concluir que, não obstante o projeto colonizador de conquista do mundo objetivo que limita as fronteiras do campo jurídico, o pensamento de Descartes determinou o núcleo de percepção jurídica tanto epistemológica quanto metodologicamente para apropriação do ambiente físico. PALAVRAS-CHAVE: Metodologia Jurídica; Racionalismo Inato; Método Cartesiano.

This article argues that intellectual historians' fascination with a narrative of the emerging Scottish enlightenment has led to a neglect of ideas that did not shape enlightenment culture. As a contribution to a less teleological intellectual history of Scotland, the article examines the reception of the philosophy of René Descartes (1596–1650). Cartesian thought enjoyed a brief period of popularity from the 1670s to the 1690s but appeared outdated by the mid-eighteenth century. Debates about Cartesianism illustrate the ways in which late seventeenth-century Scottish intellectual life was conditioned by the rivalry between presbyterians and episcopalians, and by fears that new philosophy would undermine christianity. Moreover, the reception of Cartesian thought exemplifies intellectual connections between Scotland and the Netherlands. Not only did Descartes' philosophy win its first supporters in the United Provinces, but the Dutch Republic also provided the arguments employed by the main Scottish critics of Cartesianism. In this period the Netherlands was both a source of philosophical innovation and of conservative reaction to intellectual change.

Este artigo aborda a consideração dos seres vivos pelos teóricos do mecanicismo e da história natural, com o objetivo de esclarecer os precedentes da autonomia científica posteriormente concedida à biologia. A primeira seção pondera sobre a abordagem mecanicista, quanto à sua substituição moderna da teoria animista e às suas especificações no pensamento de René Descartes (1596-1650) e Robert Boyle (1627-1691). A segunda seção toma em apreço a metodologia de observação do visível levada a cabo pelos teóricos da História natural, quanto aos elementos que possibilitaram o seu surgimento, à sua estru-tura, ao seu caráter observacional assistemático e ao seu método específico. A conclusão apresentada é a de que as abordagens de mecânica e observacional dos seres vivos nos séculos XVII e XVIII contribuíram para a posterior constituição da biologia como campo de estudo.

RESUMO Uma das principais heranças do pensamento racionalista de René Descartes (1596-1650) está materializada no conceito do Cogito. A proposta aqui foi desenvolver uma análise dos principais argumentos dos dois primeiros textos clássicos da obra Meditações e expor a trama de argumentos que formam o corpo do conceito do Cogito com o objetivo de estruturar uma sequência didática. Na primeira parte do artigo está a exposição dos argumentos cartesianos dos sentidos, dos sonhos, do Deus enganador, de extensão como Dados; a ideia do Gênio maligno como Justificativa; e a Conclusão da ideia do Cogito: "penso, logo existo". A segunda parte está na construção da ideia do Cogito como modelo didático. A hipótese é que essa estrutura possa servir como prática didática nas aulas de Filosofia do ensino básico estimulando a argumentação e as discussões sobre a obra cartesiana.

The paper discusses the question of human subjectivity as defined by René Descartes (1596-1650) and Jacques Lacan (1901-1981). It examines the similarities as well as differences between the selfconscious and rational Cartesian subject, and the unconscious Lacanian subject (subject as desire and subject as drive). Further, it applies these categories to the subsequent discussion on the psychotic subject. Taking a rhetorical perspective means that the Cartesian and Lacanian subjects are considered an effect of specific tropological processes, such as the mechanisms of metonymy, synecdoche, metaphor, or catachresis. As it turns out, an analysis of rhetorical tropes allows us to uncover the unconscious linguistic mechanisms governing the formation of the human subject. Despite the obvious differences between the concepts of subjectivity in Cartesian philosophy and Lacanian psychoanalysis, there is a common denominator: it is due to the process of metaphorical substitution that the human subject comes into being.

Behind the third ventricle of the human brain a miniscule pedunculate bud, close to the optic thalamus, that is, to the two beds of optic nerves, a gland soft in substance yet containing gritty particles. Function: unknown. Because of its pine-cone shape it is called the conarium or pineal body, even though the recent photographs of it by Nilsson and Lindberg show it to be morphologically reminiscent of nothing so much as the plucked tail of a gamebird, which Simon Dedalus refers to as ‘the pope's nose’. Today it is presumed to be an endocrine gland of some sort, even though there is no doubt that morphogenetically in all vertebrates it is a vestigial unpaired eye. As fossil evidence indicates—and we still find it almost fully developed in some extant amphibians—ancestral vertebrates possessed in addition to the paired bilateral eyes a solitary dorsal eye opening at the top of the skull to the sky. This singular evagination of the brain—something betwixt a visual organ and a gland—seems to hold a special fascination for philosophers. Here we shall consider two of them: René Descartes (1596–1650), the father, as we say, of modern philosophy; and Georges Bataille (1897–1962), the father, as many say, of post-modern philosophy. Three hundred years separate them. Devotion to the pineal body conjoins them.

Behind the third ventricle of the human brain a miniscule pedunculate bud, close to the optic thalamus, that is, to the two beds of optic nerves, a gland soft in substance yet containing gritty particles. Function: unknown. Because of its pine-cone shape it is called the conarium or pineal body, even though the recent photographs of it by Nilsson and Lindberg show it to be morphologically reminiscent of nothing so much as the plucked tail of a gamebird, which Simon Dedalus refers to as ‘the pope's nose’. Today it is presumed to be an endocrine gland of some sort, even though there is no doubt that morphogenetically in all vertebrates it is a vestigial unpaired eye. As fossil evidence indicates—and we still find it almost fully developed in some extant amphibians—ancestral vertebrates possessed in addition to the paired bilateral eyes a solitary dorsal eye opening at the top of the skull to the sky. This singular evagination of the brain—something betwixt a visual organ and a gland—seems to hold a special fascination for philosophers. Here we shall consider two of them: René Descartes (1596–1650), the father, as we say, of modern philosophy; and Georges Bataille (1897–1962), the father, as many say, of post-modern philosophy. Three hundred years separate them. Devotion to the pineal body conjoins them.

The desire to achieve unquestionable knowledge and experience in history with the history of events in all spheres of history from time immemorial. For every scientist, finding the truth is conditio sine qua non, a challenge and a duty. In the course of the history of human thought in its development tirelessly searched for the most effective ways of achieving a revealing one that meets scientific criteria. In the history of science so far, many concepts in this field arouse unique ones for various reasons. Reflection on the legacy of the French physicist and mathematician René Descartes (1596-1650), one of the most outstanding scholars of the 17th century and one of the most famous and effective philosophers in history, is an inspiring source of research, his works, the reading of which verbally motivates reflection and also to the endless endeavors of mankind in the pursuit of knowledge to the discovery of truth. By exposing the power of reason of reason as the axis, I made the thinking person, adopting the credo in the form of I think, therefore I am… as the first principle of philosophy. There are interesting interpretations of Descartes' sentences, which testify to a fairly strong tradition on a global scale. The assessment from the justification of the grounds to questioning Descartes' concept must be found that the undoubted merit of the philosopher is inspiring his contemporaries and successors with faith in the power of reason and motivating them to take actions that prove its power, including efforts to put them into practice.

We live in an era of crises. One of them, the ecological crisis, arose from the fact that the human race plunders nature, destroying, among other things, the Earth’s biodiversity. In my paper I will show that the situation is rooted in a specific worldview. Moreover, I will interrogate the question of how we can deal with the problem. Humankind’s attitude to themselves and to the world (including nature) is based on beliefs and values which make up an unquestioned prejudgment. Individuals absorb it in the process of socialization, as they assimilate the widely understood traditions of the social groups to which they belong. In the Western tradition in particular, our understanding of humanity’s situation in the world and its relation to nature, which we have had since modernity, found its clearest articulation in the views of René Descartes (1596–1650). I will begin by discussing the main characteristics of this position most pertinent to the main problem identified in the title. Then I will discuss the consequences of Cartesianism for the worldview of modern man such as the radical rationalism and anthropocentrism inherent in the European attitude. In this tradition humanity is identified with subjectivity and intellectual cognition. Reality outside of human subjectivity, that is, the whole animate and inanimate nature, is treated as the object of knowledge. Nature should be explored in the spirit of modernity’s maxim “We can do as much as we know” (F. Bacon 1561-1626); it can be used to our purposes, to satisfy our growing needs. This is being done without scruple, precisely because nature is denied being the subject. It has no right to claim moral protection. Today, in the era of globalization, this way of thinking, which originated in the West, has spread over the entire globe and led to the ongoing devastation of nature. We are dealing with an ecological disaster. In the next step I will interrogate how this situation can be changed and what may be the role of philosophy in this cultural shift. Every vision of the world is a construct (the Cartesian vision being a very good example). What philosophy can do is offer a certain vision of reality, in which humanity has a friendly (symbiotic) attitude to nature and does not treat it merely as a means to their ends. Such ecophilosophy could be based on the thesis that subjectivity is the property not just of all human beings, but of all other beings as well. Such an idea can be found in the work of the German scientist and philosopher Jacob von Uexküll (1864-1944), who granted the status of the subject to every living being. He laid foundations to the concept of nature as “a community of subjects” comprising man and the entire animate world, thus breaking away from the Cartesian framework. I am going to outline briefly his position. Finally, I will point out what needs to be done, if people are to change their attitude to nature. A good theory in and of itself will not suffice. It is necessary to instill ecological convictions and values in entire societies, so that these values would eventually come to seem obvious. We need to launch an extensive education campaign of both adults and—perhaps even more importantly—children. In other words, the comprehensive protection of nature can only be promoted through the nexus of ecophilosophy and education.

René Descartes (1596–1650) was born at La Haye, near Tours in France. He entered the Jesuit School at La Flèche in 1606, where he studied Latin and Greek and the classical authors, and acquired respect for the certainty of mathematics and distaste for the theories of Aristotle as developed by medieval commentators. In 1616, he took a degree in law at the University of Poitiers. There followed a period during which he travelled, for some of the time as a gentleman-officer in the armies of Maurice of Nassau, Prince of Orange, and Maximilian, Duke of Bavaria. In 1625 he returned to Paris and renewed his acquaintance with Father Marin Mersenne, who was later instrumental in making his views known to many of the famous intellectuals in Europe. From 1628 to 1649 he lived in Holland and worked out in detail the scientific, philosophical and mathematical ideas that had engaged him during his travels. His main philosophical works are Rules for the Direction of the Mind, written in 1629–30 but not published until 1684, Discourse on Method, 1637, Meditations, 1641, Principles of Philosophy, 1644, and The Passions of the Soul, 1649. In 1649, Descartes accepted an invitation to visit the Queen of Sweden and instruct her in philosophy. He succumbed to the rigorous climate, and died in February 1650.

É célebre o raciocínio “Penso, logo existo”, enunciado pelo filósofo francês René Descartes (1596-1650) na quarta parte de seu Discurso do Método, como sendo o primeiro princípio de sua Filosofia. Além de não podermos duvidar que o sujeito que pensa existe, para Descartes a mente humana é dotada de certas ideias, impressas por Deus, que lhes são inatas. Um dos primeiros a criticar a teoria do conhecimento e o inatismo cartesiano foi o filósofo inglês John Locke (1632-1704), porém, foi seu discípulo francês Étienne Bonnot de Condillac (1714-1780) quem esboçou as críticas mais radicais contra o sistema filosófico de Descartes.

The French philosopher René Descartes (1596-1650) argued that the natures of mind and body are completely different from one another and that each could exist by itself. How can these two structures with different natures causally interact in order to give rise to a human being with voluntary bodily motions and sensations? Even today, the problem of mind-body causal interaction remains a matter of debate.

O filósofo alemão Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646-1716) menciona muitas vezes a filosofia estoica, especialmente a de Epicteto (55-135?) e mesmo a defendida no Encheirídion ou Manual, e talvez o melhor exemplo da importância que o Manual assume para o alemão seja as muitas menções feitas na Teodiceia; entretanto, dentre muitas outras, existe uma carta endereçada ao teólogo luterano o abade Gerhard Wolter Molanus (1633-1722), carta que recebeu a datação de mais ou menos 1679, em que não só o “incomparável Manual de Epicteto” é mencionado como ficam estabelecidos os termos em que ele é preferível com relação àquilo que Leibniz chamou de a arte da paciência, supostamente defendida pelo filósofo francês René Descartes (1596-1650), arte duramente criticada pelo alemão em favor de um cristianismo platônico ou de uma moral verdadeiramente cristã. Dito assim, nosso objetivo é problematizar alguns dos motivos das muitas menções aos estoicos, daí a Epicteto e especialmente ao seu Manual, e os termos em que se deu a crítica a Descartes por parte de Leibniz. PALAVRAS-CHAVE: Leibniz, Epicteto, Molanus, Descartes, Enchiridion.

This paper aim is to discuss and clarify about the way we perceived the functionality of the synapse since 4th century BC up to modern times and actual status. The discussions over the way synapses work began over 2400 years ago and it all started from the simple question of how the locomotive system works and how do the muscles contract. The First who discussed about this concept was Plato during the 4th century BC. We are discussing about René Descartes (1596-1650) depiction of a clear view in the book entitled “De Homine” (1662) over the view of the brain and the innervation of the body. In modern times, the word “synapse” was coined for the Physiology” of 1897 , for which Sherrington wrote 3 chapters. He proposed his former Professor to introduce the word “synapse” which comes from Greek and means “conjunction”. For this discovery, Charles Sherrington and Edgar Douglas Adrian were awarded the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine in 1932.

I The principles of the most ancient and modern philosophy tar Anne Conway (1631-1679) et oppgjør med teoriene til flere av sine samtidige mannlige kolleger, i fremste rekke Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679), René Descartes (1596-1650) og Baruch de Spinoza (1632-1677). En viktig del av denne kritikken handler om at hun mener at ingen av dem gir en fullgod forklaring på relasjonen mellom sjel og legeme. For Hobbes er alt i verden, sjelen inkludert, en del av den materielle og determinerte verden og således finnes det ikke noe mulighet for at mennesket kan ha en sjel som er fri. Hos Descartes finner vi den dualistiske læren om at mennesket består av to substanser, sjel og legeme, og mens legemet har utstrekning og således er ufritt, mangler sjelen utstrekning og kan dermed betraktes som fri. Spinoza hevder på sin side at sjel og legeme ikke er to substanser, men snarere to væremåter under den eneste substans som finnes, Gud, noe som gjør at sjel og legeme befinner seg på samme nivå og kan virke sammen. Mot disse teoriene hevder Conway, inspirert av sin kollega og venn Henry More (1614-1687), at det det ikke er mulig å trekke et definitivt skille mellom sjel og legeme. Det finnes ikke legemer som er uten sjel eller ånd, og det finnes heller ikke, riktignok med unntak av Gud, sjeler eller ånder som er uten legeme. Dermed er det verken slik Hobbes hevder, da ikke alt, men snarere ingenting, er rent materielt, ei heller slik Descartes hevder, da det ikke finnes et dualistisk skille mellom sjel og legeme, og endelig heller ikke slik Spinoza hevder, da det på nyplatonsk vis finnes et hierarki i naturen ut fra hvor langt de ulike «tingene» er fra Gud, og hvor sjelen innrømmes forrang framfor legemet. Dessuten inspirerte Conway Gottfried Wilhelm von Leibniz (1646-1716) til å utvikle monadebegrepet, et begrep som er helt vesentlig i Leibniz sin forståelse av samvirket mellom sjel og legeme som preetablert harmoni. Conway må slik sies å delta aktivt i en av sin samtids mest intense filosofiske debatter og fortjener en langt mer fremskutt plass i filosofiens historie enn den ettertiden har tilkjent henne. Artikkelen min tematiserer ikke feminisme og kjønn, men den er en del av en satsning som forskningsgruppen i feministisk filosofi (FemPhil) ved Universitetet i Tromsø – Norges Arktiske Universitet har igangsatt hvor målet er å synliggjøre kvinners bidrag til filosofiens historie og således bidra til å revidere den gjengse forståelsen av filosofifaget som et fag av og for menn. Prosjektet har verdi i seg selv, da det bidrar til bedre balanse mellom mannlige og kvinnelige tenkere i filosofiens historie, men vi håper også at det på sikt vil bidra positivt til rekrutteringen av kvinner, det være seg både ansatte og studenter, til filosofifaget.

Must the architect or artist understand how the world is perceived on the convex surface of the eye to simulate the three-dimensional world on a two-dimensional plane? For many early-modern artists, optics – defined as the science of vision – was fundamental. Yet, for architects, the integration of optical theories into two-dimensional representations of buildings remained more tenuous. Architectural drawing depended on orthographic projection and the representation of built form through plan, section and elevation, which did not seek to mimic the process of vision. If anything, architectural drawing separated itself from the illusion of vision in its attempt to account for the discrepancies between the represented and the built form. Nevertheless, the shifting science of optics would come to influence the two-dimensional representation of the built world for both architects and painters. This essay covers a broad survey of perspectival treatises from the fifteenth to the eighteenth century in order to consider how changes in the science of optics shifted the means by which artists and architects theorized the representation of space and the simulated illusion of perspective. As will be seen, the seemingly innocuously obvious geometric parts for the creation of perspectival space – the Euclidean point and line – became obsolete in the eighteenth century due to fundamental shifts in the science of optics. Whereas once optics was a study of vision through points and lines, in the seventeenth century with the works of Johannes Kepler (1571–1630) and René Descartes (1596–1650), among many others, optics transformed into a study of light. As light rather than vision became the focus of optics and its geometrical laws, the connection between a geometry of vision and a geometry of spatial representation became challenged. When light – not vision – became subject to the laws of geometry, the eye became one instrument among many (lenses, camera obscuras, microscopes and telescopes) capable of deception and fault. In turn, geometry lost its intellectual and metaphysical resonances and became a practical tool of application. The influence of the visioning technology of geometry on perspectival drawing for both the built and the figurative world lost its theoretical foundation. No longer a technology of vision, the art of geometry became reduced to non-theoretical rudimentary forms for beginning draftsmen.

La culture, mot ancien, a une longue histoire et pour les anthropologues, qui n’ont pas envie de l’abandonner, elle garde tout son potentiel heuristique. Du verbe latin colere (cultiver, habiter, coloniser), la culture a immédiatement montré une remarquable versatilité sémantique. Comme Cicéron (106-43 av. J.-C.) l’avait dit, il n’y a pas seulement la culture des champs, il y a aussi la cultura animi : c’est-à-dire la philosophie. Cultura animi est une expression que l’on retrouve également au début de la modernité, chez le philosophe anglais Francis Bacon (1561-1626). Elle devient ensuite « culture de la raison » chez René Descartes (1596-1650) et chez Emmanuel Kant (1724-1804). Mais au XVIIIe siècle, nous assistons à un autre passage, lorsque la culture, en plus des champs, de l’âme et de la raison humaine, commence à s’appliquer également aux coutumes, aux mœurs, aux usages sociaux, comme cela est parfaitement clair chez des auteurs tels que François-Marie Arouet, dit Voltaire (1694-1778), et Johann Gottfried Herder (1744-1803). Nous pourrions nous demander pourquoi ces auteurs ne se sont pas contentés de continuer à utiliser les termes désormais testés de coutumes et de mœurs. Pourquoi ont-ils voulu ajouter la notion de culture? Qu’est-ce que cette notion offrait de plus? Autrement dit, quelle est la différence entre culture et coutume? Dans l’usage de Voltaire et de Herder, la culture est presque toujours singulière, alors que les coutumes sont très souvent plurielles. La culture a donc pour effet d’unifier les coutumes dans un concept unique, en surmontant leur pluralité désordonnée et désorientante : les coutumes sont nombreuses, variables, souvent divergentes et contradictoires (les coutumes d’une population ou d’une période historique s’opposent aux coutumes d’autres sociétés et d’autres périodes), alors que la culture désigne une capacité, une dimension, un niveau unificateur. Dans son Essai sur les mœurs (1756), Voltaire a clairement distingué le plan de la « nature », dont dépend l’unité du genre humain, de celui de la « culture », où les coutumes sont produites avec toute leur variété : « ainsi le fonds est partout le même », tandis que « la culture produit des fruits divers », et les fruits sont précisément les coutumes. Comme on peut le constater, il ne s’agit pas uniquement d’opposer l’uniformité d’une part (la nature) et l’hétérogénéité d’autre part (les coutumes). En regroupant les coutumes, Voltaire suggère également une relation selon laquelle le « fonds » est le terrain biologique, celui de la nature humaine, tandis que la culture indique le traitement de ce terrain et, en même temps, les fruits qui en découlent. Tant qu’on ne parle que de coutumes, on se contente de constater la pluralité et l’hétérogénéité des « fruits ». En introduisant le terme culture, ces fruits sont rassemblés dans une catégorie qui les inclut tous et qui contribue à leur donner un sens, bien au-delà de leur apparente étrangeté et bizarrerie : bien qu’étranges et bizarres, ils sont en réalité le produit d’une activité appliquée au terrain commun à toutes les sociétés humaines. Partout, les êtres humains travaillent et transforment l’environnement dans lequel ils vivent, mais ils travaillent, transforment et cultivent aussi la nature dont ils sont faits. Appliquée aux coutumes, la culture est donc à la fois ce travail continu et les produits qui en découlent. En d’autres termes, nous ne pouvons plus nous contenter d’être frappés par l’étrangeté des coutumes et les attribuer à une condition d’ignorance et aux superstitions : si les coutumes sont une culture, elles doivent être rapportées à un travail effectué partout, mais dont les résultats sont sans aucun doute étranges et hétérogènes. Il s’agit en tout cas d’un travail auquel chaque société est dédiée dans n’importe quel coin du monde. Nous ne voulons pas proposer ici une histoire du concept de culture. Mais après avoir mentionné l’innovation du concept de culture datant du XVIIIe siècle – c’est-à-dire le passage du sens philosophique (cultura animi ou culture de la raison) à un sens anthropologique (coutumes en tant que culture) –, on ne peut oublier que quelques décennies après l’Essai sur les mœurs (1756) de Voltaire, Johann Gottfried Herder, dans son Ideen zur Philosophie der Geschichte der Menschheit (1784-1791), fournit une définition de la culture digne d’être valorisée et soutenue par l’anthropologie deux siècles plus tard. Herder ne se limite pas à étendre la culture (Kultur) bien au-delà de l’Europe des Lumières, au-delà des sociétés de l’écriture (même les habitants de la Terre de Feu « ont des langages et des concepts, des techniques et des arts qu’ils ont appris, comme nous les avons appris nous-mêmes et, par conséquent, eux aussi sont vraiment inculturés »), mais il cherche le sens profond du travail incessant de la Kultur (1991). Pourquoi, partout, aux quatre coins du monde, les humains se consacrent-ils constamment à la formation de leur corps et de leur esprit (Bildung)? La réponse de Herder est dans le concept de l’homme en tant qu’être biologiquement défectueux (Mängelwesen), en tant qu’être qui a besoin de la culture pour se compléter : le but de la culture est précisément de fournir, selon différentes conditions historiques, géographiques et sociales, une quelque forme d’humanité. Selon Herder, la culture est « cette seconde genèse de l’homme qui dure toute sa vie » (1991). La culture est la somme des tentatives, des efforts et des moyens par lesquels les êtres humains « de toutes les conditions et de toutes les sociétés », s’efforcent d’imaginer et de construire leur propre humanité, de quelque manière qu’elle soit comprise (1991). La culture est l’activité anthropo-poïétique continue à laquelle les êtres humains ne peuvent échapper. Tel est, par exemple, le propre du rituel qui réalise la deuxième naissance, la véritable, celle de l’acteur/actrice social/e, comme dans les rites d’initiation ou la construction des rapports sociaux de sexe. La culture correspond aux formes d’humanité que les acteurs sociaux ne cessent de produire. Le but que Herder pensait poursuivre était de rassembler les différentes formes d’humanité en une seule connaissance généralisante, une « chaîne de cultures » qui, du coin du monde qu’est l’Europe des Lumières « s’étend jusqu’au bout de la terre » (1991). On peut soutenir que dans les quelques décennies de la seconde moitié du XVIIIe siècle, on avait déjà posé les bases d’un type de connaissance auquel on allait donner plus tard le nom d’anthropologie culturelle. Parmi ces prémisses, il y avait le nouveau sens du terme culture. Cependant, il faut attendre plus d’un siècle pour que ceux qui allaient être appelés anthropologues reprennent ce concept et en fassent le fondement d’une nouvelle science. La « science de la culture » est en fait le titre du chapitre I de Primitive Culture (1871) d’Edward Burnett Tylor, chapitre qui commence par la définition de la culture connue de tous les anthropologues : « Le mot culture ou civilisation, pris dans son sens ethnographique le plus étendu, désigne ce tout complexe comprenant à la fois les sciences, les croyances, les arts, la morale, les lois, les coutumes et les autres facultés et habitudes acquises par l’homme dans l’état social (Tylor1920). » Dans cette définition, les points suivants peuvent être soulignés : premièrement, la culture est un instrument qui s’applique de manière ethnographique à toute société humaine; deuxièmement, elle intègre une pluralité d’aspects, y compris les coutumes, de manière à former un « ensemble complexe »; troisièmement, les contenus de cet ensemble sont acquis non par des moyens naturels, mais par des relations sociales. Dans cette définition, la distinction – déjà présente chez Voltaire – entre le plan de la nature et le plan de la culture est implicite; mais à présent, le regard se porte avant tout sur la structure interne de la culture, sur les éléments qui la composent et sur la nécessité d’ancrer la culture, détachée de la nature, au niveau de la société. Il initie un processus de formation et de définition d’un savoir qui, grâce au nouveau concept de culture, revendique sa propre autonomie. La première fonction de la culture est en fait de faire voir le territoire réservé à la nouvelle science : un vaste espace qui coïncide avec tous les groupes humains, des communautés les plus restreintes et les plus secrètes aux sociétés qui ont dominé le monde au cours des derniers siècles. Mais jusqu’à quel point ce concept est-il fiable, solide et permanent, de sorte qu’il puisse servir de fondement au nouveau savoir anthropologique? On pourrait dire que les anthropologues se distinguent les uns des autres sur la base des stratégies qu’ils adoptent pour rendre le concept de culture plus fiable, pour le renforcer en le couplant avec d’autres concepts, ou, au contraire, pour s’en éloigner en se réfugiant derrière d’autres notions ou d’autres points de vue considérés plus sûrs. La culture a été un concept novateur et prometteur, mais elle s’est aussi révélée perfide et dérangeante. On doit réfléchir aux deux dimensions de la culture auxquelles nous avons déjà fait allusion: le travail continu et les produits qui en découlent. Les anthropologues ont longtemps privilégié les produits, à commencer par les objets matériels, artistiques ou artisanaux : les vitrines des musées, avec leur signification en matière de description et de classification, ont suggéré un moyen de représenter les cultures, et cela même lorsque les anthropologues se sont détachés des musées pour étudier les groupes humains en « plein air », directement sur le terrain. Quelles étaient, dans ce contexte, les coutumes, sinon les « produits » de la culture sur le plan comportemental et mental? Et lorsque la notion de coutume a commencé à décliner, entraînant avec elle le sens d’un savoir dépassé, la notion de modèle – les modèles de culture – a dominé la scène. Saisir des modèles dans n’importe quel domaine de la vie sociale – de la parenté à la politique, de la religion au droit, de l’économie à l’art, etc. – ne correspondait-il pas à une stratégie visant à construire, dans un but descriptif et analytique, quelque chose de solide, de répétitif et de socialement répandu, bref, un système capable de se reproduire dans le temps? Ce faisant, on continuait à privilégier les produits avec leur continuité et leur lisibilité au détriment du travail continu et obscur de la culture, de son flux presque insaisissable et imprévisible. Nous pensons par exemple à la quantité incroyable et chaotique de gestes, mots, idées, émotions qui se succèdent, se chevauchent, se croisent et se mélangent dans chaque moment de la vie individuelle et collective. Le sentiment que les produits toujours statiques et achevés de la culture priment sur sa partie la plus significative et la plus dynamique (une sorte de matière ou d’énergie obscure), devient un facteur de frustration et de perturbation pour l’entreprise anthropologique. À cet égard, les anthropologues ont adopté plusieurs voies de sortie, notamment : la tendance à réifier la culture, ce qui lui confère une solidité presque ontologique (c’est le cas d’Alfred L. Kroeber 1952); l’intention de réduire sa portée et de l’ancrer ainsi dans une réalité plus cohérente et permanente, telle que pourrait être la structure sociale dans ses diverses articulations (Alfred Radcliffe-Brown 1968 et plus largement l’anthropologie sociale); la tentative de capturer dans les manifestations apparemment plus libres et arbitraires de la culture, que peuvent être les mythes, l’action de structures mentales d’un ordre psycho-biologique (Claude Lévi-Strauss 1958 et 1973 et plus largement le structuralisme). Plus récemment, la méfiance envers la culture a pris la forme même de son refus, souvent motivé par une clef politique. Comment continuer à s’appuyer sur la culture, si elle assume désormais le rôle de discrimination autrefois confié à la race? Plus la culture devient un terme d’usage social et politique, identifié ou mélangé à celui d’identité et se substituant à celui de race, plus des anthropologues ont décrété son caractère fallacieux et ont pensé à libérer la pensée anthropologique de cet instrument devenu trop dangereux et encombrant. Lila Abu-Lughod écrit en 1991 un essai intitulé Against Culture et les critiques du concept de culture refont surface dans le texte d’Adam Kuper, Culture, 1998 et 1999. Mais si l’anthropologie doit se priver de ce concept, par quoi le remplacera-t-elle? Est-il suffisant de se contenter de « pratiques » et de « discours » qu’Abu-Lughod a puisés chez Michel Foucault (1966)? C’est une chose de critiquer certains usages de la notion de culture, tels que ceux qui tendent à la confondre avec l’identité, c’en est une autre d’accepter le défi que ce concept présente à la fois par son caractère fluide et manipulable, et par les expansions fertiles dont il est capable. Par « pratique » et « discours », réussirons-nous, par exemple, à suivre l’expansion de la culture vers l’étude du comportement animal et à réaliser que nous ne pouvons plus restreindre la « science de la culture » dans les limites de l’humanité (Lestel 2003)? Presque dans le sens opposé, la culture jette également les bases de la recherche ethnographique au sein des communautés scientifiques, une enquête absolument décisive pour une anthropologie qui veut se présenter comme une étude du monde contemporain (Latour et Woolgar 1979). Et quel autre concept que celui de culture pourrait indiquer de manière appropriée le « tout complexe » (complex whole) de la culture globale (Hamilton 2016)? Qu’est-ce que l’Anthropocène, sinon une vaste et immense culture qui, au lieu d’être circonscrite aux limites de l’humanité, est devenue une nouvelle ère géologique (Zalasiewicz et al. 2017)? Bref, la « science de la culture », formulée en 1871 par Edward Tylor, se développe énormément aujourd’hui : la culture est l’utilisation de la brindille comme outil de capture des termites par le chimpanzé, de même qu’elle correspond aux robots qui assistent les malades, aux satellites artificiels qui tournent autour de la Terre ou aux sondes envoyées dans le plus profond des espaces cosmiques. Ces expansions de la culture sont sans aucun doute des sources de désorientation. Au lieu de se retirer et de renoncer à la culture, les anthropologues culturels devraient accepter ce grand défi épistémologique, en poursuivant les ramifications de cette notion ancienne, mais encore vitale, dynamique et troublante.