The impersonal is the point of convergence of transcendental enquiry in philosophy. There is no need to presuppose a subject of thought: ‘one’ thinks like ‘it rains’ or ‘it flashes’ and the ‘I’ who thinks’ is to be understood “as an unfortunate habit of our race or rather, perhaps, as a mysterious instinct, like wasps taking care of their eggs” (Peirce). But has the ‘third person’ really got to the root, or does the beleaguered ego sum conceal unsuspected depths? ‘One’ thinks and the ‘I-subject’ is a superstition, sure, but where does ‘one’ think? The cogito, to function, presupposes a scene. If that ordinary cultural apocalypse called déjà-vu has aroused so much interest in contemporary philosophy (from Bergson to Deleuze), it is because it provides a key to the very first person at the source of reflexivity.