To sum up, the axiological researcher needs to grasp the scandal of the problem of values, i.e. the scandal of the lack of foundation of values and the scandal of extreme axiological positions that it is impossible to reject. Moreover, instead of adopting the state of mind to which the scandalous nature of a phenomenon normally leads, namely indignation, he must suspend all his value judgements, and engage in axiological epoché.
Why should this be? There are three reasons.
Firstly, because it seems to be the state of mind that logically follows, if we are honest with ourselves, from our ignorance. If we knew why nihilism is an erroneous axiological position, i.e. if we knew how to found values, we could reject nihilism - and even be indignant about it - because we would know the reason for such a rejection; but our ignorance makes such a rejection impossible, which leads us to suspend our axiological judgements.
Secondly, because without this state of mind, man can only be irritated by the quest to determine values, by the project of an axiology. He adheres in the first degree to his value judgements, is in a way mired in them. He lives entirely confident in the ends he has set for himself, nothing has ever shaken the substance of his life; he coincides with himself; he knows no doubt. It is useless to explain the axiological project to such a man. He cannot bear to see the value of what he loves called into question, and will reject any conclusion that does not support his love.
We can then propose a simple test for each of us to determine whether he (or she) may be interested in the axiological project: can he tolerate being told that what he loves has no value? Or again: is he likely to change his tastes if it is shown that his current taste is bad taste? Or will he reject any demonstration in order to keep his (supposed) love intact?
He will then become like a stone to us, meaning that none of our proposals will be able to reach him; he and we will no longer be on the same ground; we will no longer have any connection. He is deaf to us; he is therefore invincible to our attacks; but at the same time, he does not speak to us. So he can no more be a threat to us than that stone by the side of the road.
Finally, because it is probably impossible to establish values without at least once, in the course of our investigation, giving the axiological doctrines we are trying to refute a chance. We need to be neutral if we are to be able to determine impartially what has value and what does not. To be neutral, however, we must at some point in our thinking consider all possible value judgements with equal respect as genuine axiological positions worthy of the name; if we dismiss with a shrug what seems to us absurd and scandalous, we lose any chance of grasping the depth of the problem of values, and hence of solving it.
Two types of character will therefore, as it appears, be forever insensitive to the project of an axiology: firstly, those who fail to grasp the scandal of the lack of foundation of values, and who, like the intuitionists, for example, assert that we naturally and immediately know what has a value (which, as if by chance, turns out to be the traditional triad of beautiful-true-good); and secondly, those who have understood all this, and are aware of this scandalous absence of foundation, but will take refuge in the sterile feeling of indignation in which they seek an answer to the axiological problem, which is obviously impossible.
The meaning of this suspension of judgement is perhaps difficult to grasp. Perhaps it will become clearer if we take as our model the Cartesian epoché, which in its very radicality seems to approach the axiological epoché we are proposing.
However, is Cartesian doubt radical? Does it really constitute a model to follow, for those who wish to strip themselves of all their value judgements? Let us take a look at the Cartesian approach, and try to find out.