Aquinas: A New Introduction

John Peterson (Ph.D.) is Professor of Philosophy in the University of Rhode Island. He is the author of Realism and Logical Atomism (1976), Introduction to Scholastic Realism (1999), and critical papers in a dozen philosophical journals.

For orders and information please contact the publisher UNIVERSITY PRESS OF AMERICA®, INC.

4501 Forbes Boulevard, Suite 200 Lanham, Maryland 20706 1-800-462-6420 www.univpress.com

AquinasPODPBK.indd 1

ISBN-13: 978-0-7618-4104-3 ISBN-10: 0-7618-4104-0

A NEW INTRODUCTION

Many other works consider only one aspect of Aquinas’s thought such as his treatment of persons, his arguments for God’s existence, or his theory of truth, but Peterson’s Aquinas combines readability with both depth and close analysis to give a comprehensive overview of Aquinas’s work without sacrificing either accuracy or depth.

AQUINAS

AQUINAS

Aquinas provides an in-depth analysis of basic philosophical concepts in the thought of Aquinas. These concepts include: being, essence, existence, form, matter, truth, goodness, freedom and necessity, knowledge, willing and choosing, and right action. These ideas are approached from an analytical point of view but the analysis is not exceedingly technical, which allows beginners to follow the discussion.

PETERSON

University Press of America®, Inc. publishing across academic disciplines since 1975

A New Introduction

JOHN PETERSON

8/6/08 2:16:08 PM

Aquinas A New Introduction

John Peterson

UNIVERSITY PRESS OF AMERICA, ® INC.

Lanham • Boulder • New York • Toronto • Plymouth, UK

Copyright © 2008 by University Press of America,® Inc. 4501 Forbes Boulevard Suite 200 Lanham, Maryland 20706 UPA Acquisitions Department (301) 459-3366 Estover Road Plymouth PL6 7PY United Kingdom All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America British Library Cataloging in Publication Information Available Library of Congress Control Number: 2008926994 ISBN-13: 978-0-7618-4104-3 (paperback : alk. paper) ISBN-10: 0-7618-4104-0 (paperback : alk. paper) eISBN-13: 978-0-7618-4180-7 eISBN-10: 0-7618-4180-6

⬁ ™ The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information Sciences—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI Z39.48—1992

To Gary, Mary Hope, Margaret, Sam and Sarah

Contents

Acknowledgments

vii

Introduction

ix

1

Change and Its Causes

1

2

Being

31

3

Truth

89

4

Universals

114

5

Persons

131

6

Ethics

207

Select Bibliography

239

Index

241

v

Acknowledgments

I should like gratefully to acknowledge the support of the Center for the Humanities in the University of Rhode Island and its director, Prof. Galen Johnson, in the publication of this book. I wish also to thank the University of Rhode Island Alumni Association and M. Beverly Swann, Vice-President for Academic Affairs and Provost of the University of Rhode Island, for their help in this project. Last but not least, my gratitude goes out to the Philosophy Department of the University of Rhode Island and its Chair, Prof. Donald Zeyl, for their support and encouragement.

vii

Introduction

Metaphysics is the core of philosophy in Aquinas. It is first philosophy. ‘First’ here does not mean temporally first. The science of metaphysics is not first in the order of our knowledge. On the contrary it is the last, or nearly the last, science in the order of learning. But while it is last or nearly last temporally speaking, metaphysics is absolutely first logically speaking. Metaphysics is first philosophy because, while all the other sciences include the principles of metaphysics, metaphysics does not include the principles of any one of the other sciences. It is thus the independent science, the science that studies being just as being. The causes or elements of being as being enter into mobile beings, immobile beings, living beings and non-living beings. But the causes or elements of mobile beings, immobile beings, living beings and non-living beings do not enter into the principles of being as being. So all the other sciences depend on metaphysics as the logically posterior depends on the logically prior. That just means that something can be a being without being a living being. For it might be a non-living being. Or something can be a being without being a non-living being. For it might be a living being. Or something can be a being without being an immobile being. For it might be a mobile being. And so on. But something cannot be living or non-living being or mobile or immobile being without being a being. As for epistemology, Aquinas devotes no separate treatise to that subject. He does not question whether it can be known that there is an external world, whether it can be known for what it is, and whether, in fact, anything at all can be known for certain. Aquinas is a direct realist in epistemology. He does not ask whether there can be knowledge of basic principles or whether knowledge has the independently real as its object. He focuses instead on the ontological status and structure of knowledge. His concern in knowledge is always with ix

x

Introduction

what might be called the ontology of knowledge. He asks what knowledge is, what the conditions of knowledge are, how knowledge takes place, what the effects of knowledge are, and what implications the fact of knowledge has for understanding what knowers are. In fact, except when he speaks of divine or angelic knowledge, Aquinas deals with knowledge only in the larger context of the nature of human beings. A correct account of knowledge is important not just or even primarily for its own sake but for the sake of understanding what persons are. This is in turn important for the wider metaphysical question of whether the created world consists of matter alone. For if it turns out that knowledge implies that persons are in some way independent of both their own bodies and bodily states as well as the bodies or bodily states of other things, then the world has a non-material dimension. As for Aquinas’s ethics, it is once again clear that metaphysics is its ground. The fundamental notion in his ethics is that of good. But ‘good’ in Aquinas has the nature of an end or final cause. And the end, good or final cause that is relevant in ethics is the objective end, good, or final cause of persons taken just as persons. Aquinas is thus far from being a mechanist like Hobbes or Spinoza. But it is not just that his ethics presupposes a general teleological view of nature. It is that the very standard by which acts are called right or wrong in Aquinas is a certain objective end in nature, the natural end or good of human beings. If you want to know what acts of a human being are right you first have to know what a human being is and that requires knowing what a human being is “for”. This knowledge is the basis of what he calls the natural law. Thus, Aquinas’s ethics is metaphysical just because it is built on the idea of a natural end. And it is the concept of natural end that is behind the idea of natural law. Conformity to the natural law for human beings is the proximate criterion of right action. But the concept of natural law itself implies a teleological view of the world. Every natural thing is “for” something which is the end or good of that thing and that end or good determines the law of its nature. A more thoroughgoing teleological ethics than this it would be difficult to imagine. But the metaphysics of Aquinas’s ethics runs even deeper. Human beings have a distinctive operation or function which is identified with their natural end or good. This function or operation consists in rational activity. But all rational activity or thought is directed beyond itself. It has an extrinsic object. And the higher or more intelligible that object is, the more the rational activity or thought of a person is perfected. So a person’s natural end finds its perfection in a person’s knowing or contemplating the most intelligible object, i.e. God. A human being, then, is not just “for” rational activity. To the extent that rational activity reaches its natural end, good, or perfection in and through acquaintance with the most intelligible object, a person is “for”

Introduction

xi

knowing or contemplating God. To the extent, then, that ethics has to do with the final natural end of persons just as persons and not as teachers, physicians, builders, etc., the idea of God is central to ethics. But since God alone is His own being and the cause of all other being, metaphysics, the science of being, is directed above all things to God, the highest being. So in the philosophy of Aquinas ethics is linked to metaphysics in and through the concept of God which is central to both. To turn to metaphysics per se, it is useful to say what, metaphysically speaking, Aquinas is not. He is not a materialist either in the sense of being one who believes that persons are identified with their bodies or bodily states or in the wider sense of being one who believes that to be is to be in space. As for the latter, Aquinas believed in God and in angels. He called them separated substances. These substances are called “separated” just because, being purely spiritual, they are separated from matter. God and angels do not have spatial dimensions. And as for the former, he holds that each person has an immaterial soul and that that soul survives death. From this, the temptation is to conclude that Aquinas was a Cartesian before Descartes. For both philosophers avoid the extremes of materialism on the one hand and idealism on the other. They both deny either that all is matter or that all is mind. Yet there are important differences between the two philosophers. That is partly due to the fact that Aquinas was less of a Platonist than was Descartes on the matter of persons. For Descartes, a person’s soul or mind is a complete substance, just as it is for Plato. But for Aquinas, who is here closer to Aristotle, a person’s soul is not a complete substance in its own right but rather the form of his or her body. For wider philosophical reasons, Descartes rejected outright the analysis of natural things into form and matter. For that reason, he could not and would not have applied the form-matter schema to the analysis of persons. So even though they are together in denying what is now called identity materialism (as well as, for that matter, epiphenomenalism), the two philosophers part company as regards the sort of thing the spiritual human soul is, i.e. whether it is a complete substance or the (incomplete) form of a substance. But while he is no materialist, Aquinas is no idealist either. He would have opposed both the subjective idealism of Berkeley as well as the objective Idealism of Hegel. To be is not either to perceive, experience, think or to be perceived, experienced or thought. Though he is one with Berkeley in holding that ordinary things like trees and toads exist independently of finite minds, Aquinas would have rejected Berkeley’s view that, when they are unperceived by finite minds, these same things are nothing but ideas in God’s mind. For he held that ordinary things like trees are material exemplifications of their respective immaterial Ideas or Archtypes in the mind of God. They have

xii

Introduction

a material as well as a noetic mode of existence. Thus, so far from being themselves ideas in the Mind of God or anyone else, individual trees and toads are physical exemplifications of the divine Ideas of treeness and toadness. This represents the influence of neo-Platonism on the thought of Aquinas, as modified by St Augustine. And as for Hegel, Aquinas would have rejected the latter’s rationalism. By ‘rationalism’ here it is not meant rationalism as opposed to empiricism but rationalism in the sense of the identification of the real with the rational. For it was the view of Aquinas that to the extent that ordinary things are individual, they are unknown by intellect alone. That is because the principle of their individuality is matter and it is a condition of intellect’s knowing what things are that it abstracts from matter. What makes a thing knowable to us is its universal form. But a thing’s individuality, which is real and not just phenomenal, and which Aquinas attributes to matter, is something that escapes pure intellect. We have no purely intellectual intuition of individuals. Here, it is easy to put Aquinas on a slippery slope to Kantianism. But the temptation must be resisted. Aquinas, no less than Hegel and the post-Kantian Idealists, would reject Kantian skepticism or the view that what is ultimately real is unknown. But that is quite consistent with holding that there is nonetheless something in or about the ultimately real, namely, its radical individuality, that evades intellect or at least pure intellect or intellect acting on its own. Aquinas, then, is to be seen as occupying a position mid-way between Kant and Hegel on the matter of the rationality of the real. Individual things are neither totally rational nor totally non-rational. What makes for their individuality, for their being this as opposed to that, is not something conceptual. It cannot be grasped by intellect alone. It is only grasped by intellect on the condition that intellect turns to sense. This is one strand in what may be called Aquinas’s existentialism, if by ‘existentialism’ it is meant that the real is unidentical with the rational or universal, be it the abstract universal of Plato or the concrete universal of Hegel. But at the same time, individual things can be known by us for their species, for what they are or for what they have in common with other individuals. But it is not just the identification of the real with the rational that Aquinas would have opposed in Hegel. He would have opposed the latter’s absolutistic monism as well as his idealism. By ‘monism’ here it is meant the view that reality, despite its diversity, is ultimately one Subject. Hegel’s monism is the view that Reality is one, all-pervasive Subject struggling through history in order to become fully self-conscious. This monism Aquinas would have opposed on both philosophical and theological grounds. On the theological side, it conflicts with Christianity. Under the latter, the infinite God is separate from the finite world which He creates out of nothing. But this dualism of the finite and the infinite, like every other hard and fast dualism, is incompatible

Introduction

xiii

with Hegelianism. And on the philosophical side, Aquinas would have wondered how, in the philosophy of the Absolute, it is possible to keep the distinction between a person and his or her experiences. If I am but a moment in a larger Self or Subject, somewhat like a wave is part of the ocean, how am I a discrete self or person in my own right? And if I am not, how does the distinction between myself and my experiences make sense? For under Hegelianism, it is difficult to see how this ‘I’ or ‘me’ is itself anything more than an experience, namely, an experience of the Absolute. And then, since both myself and my experiences are nothing but experiences that belong to the Absolute, how the difference between myself and my experiences is retained becomes problematic. Further, like Russell and Moore in the early years of the last century, Aquinas would have objected to the doctrine of internal relations which is implied by Hegelianism. For one thing, he would have objected that that doctrine implies skepticism. If something is made what it is only in and through its relations to everything else in the one System or Absolute, then the consequence seems to be that in order to know anything I must know everything. But since I am evidently not omniscient, it follows that I do not know anything. Doubtless, an Hegelian would reply that all the doctrine of internal relations implies is that I do not know what something is in any adequate or complete way unless I know how it interrelates with everything else. It does not imply that I do not know it at all. But with Russell and Moore, Aquinas would have insisted that knowing what at least some things are is not a matter of degree. You either know them or you do not. Either I know what color, sound, and being hot or cold are or I do not. But I do know what these things are even though I am ignorant of all the relations in which they stand to other things. Finally, Aquinas would find any monism troublesome, be it the monism of Hegel, Spinoza, Parmenides or of any other philosopher. Unless the many are completely swallowed up by the one (as Hegel complained was the case in the philosophy of Schelling), difference must be accounted for in any metaphysical monism. But it is not so easy to see how this is done. In any unity-in-difference that is a true and not just an aggregate unity, the one lives in the many making them what they are, somewhat the way in which a vine lives in its branches. The individual differences among the many must then be accounted for by something other than the one. For what explains the sameness of the many (i.e. the one) cannot simultaneously explain the individual differences that obtain among the many. By analogy, what accounts for the sameness of myself and a hedgehog, namely, animal, evidently does not also account for the difference of rationality that separates me from the hedgehog. The difference falls outside the genus. But since in any monism there is nothing outside the one, those same individual differences in the one

xiv

Introduction

go unaccounted for. Either, therefore, all differences in the one are only apparent, making for a monism which, in Hegel’s words, is “a night in which all cows are black”, or else, the self-identity of the many being retained in the one, the individual differences that preserve that self-identity go unexplained. But besides being neither a materialist nor an idealist nor even a Cartesian before Descartes, Aquinas was also neither a Platonic realist nor a nominalist. On the issue of universals, he bypassed both these extreme views as well as the more moderate position of conceptualism. Platonism, he says, confuses the way something is with the way it is known while nominalism confuses the way something is known with the way it is. By carefully distinguishing knowing and the known, conceptualism skirts these two opposed errors. That is its strength. But in their eagerness not to confuse the two orders, conceptualists overshoot the mark. They so separate mind from reality that nothing in the one answers to anything in the other. And then knowledge of reality by mind becomes impossible. Aquinas would have pointed to the philosophy of Kant as a case in point of this skeptical consequence of conceptualism. And so, leaving these three views behind, Aquinas adopts instead what has come to be known as moderate realism on the question of universals. And in this he follows Aristotle. But to this Aristotelian realism he gives an Augustinian twist. Mention was made of the influence on Aquinas of Neo-Platonism as modified by St. Augustine. But Neo-Platonism is not Platonism. One difference between them centers on the issue of universals. While Plato’s Ideas are self-subsistent entities, the Ideas of the Neo-Platonist Plotinus exist only in Mind or Nous which is the first emanation from ultimate Reality or the One. Taking his cue from Plotinus and giving it a Christian twist, St Augustine placed the Ideas in God’s Mind. And in this, Aquinas follows Augustine. Plato was right that there are timeless Ideas but wrong in assuming that they enjoy independent existence. They depend on God’s Mind and in that status Aquinas calls any one of them universale ante rem. Holding that universals have ontological status as divine Ideas is sufficient to exclude Aquinas from the camp of nominalism. For the latter deny ontological status of any sort to universals. But it is not sufficient to keep him from conceptualism. For under the latter universals exist only in minds. What keeps Aquinas from conceptualism is his Aristotelian realism. This is his insistence that universal concepts in minds have a foundation in re in terms of the real similarity among spatial-temporal particulars as regards their essential or accidental properties. But conceptualists deny that universals have any foundation whatsoever in reality. In their view mental universals answer to nothing in reality. And so it is that, like Aristotle, Aquinas gets between Pla-

Introduction

xv

tonism, nominalism and conceptualism on the issue of universals. But at the same time and following St. Augustine, he departs from Aristotle by according ante rem status to universals in the Mind of God. Aquinas, of course, was opposed to both atheism and agnosticism. He was a theist who thought that theism could be proved by metaphysical arguments. These include but are not confined to the celebrated “five ways”. Moreover, he thought that the God that is proved by these arguments can be shown to be necessarily one, eternal, immaterial, simple and changeless. That means that Aquinas stands opposed not only to materialism but also to naturalism, scientism, logical positivism and evolutionism. Naturalism is the view that nature or the world of space and time is a self-enclosed, self-explanatory system. As a result, it is unnecessary to posit anything transcendent, such as a God, a soul or a Platonic Form, in order to explain either nature itself or any thing, state or event in nature. From naturalism follows scientism or the view that there are no events, states or entities in space-time that cannot in principle be fully explained by empirical science. As for evolutionism, it is defined as the view that all there is has been generated out of previously existing things. Everything has been evolved from other things and is even now in the process of evolving into still other things, says the evolutionist. And as for logical positivism, since Aquinas allowed meaningful statements that were neither analytic nor empirically verifiable, he parts company with logical positivists. Naturalism, scientism, logical positivism, evolutionism, and even Hegelianism are all falsified, Aquinas would argue, by the fact that it can be meaningfully and truly said that a transcendent, immutable God is both the creator and sustainer of all things. These philosophies are also falsified in his view by the existence of individual human souls. Though immaterial in nature, the latter nonetheless explain some observable human actions. Not just that, but they have not come to be by evolution. Instead, they are directly created by God. This he believed for philosophical as well as religious reasons. For he argues that only what is a composite of matter and form can come to be by generation or evolution and that the human soul is not such a composite but form alone. What is essentially simple is neither generated out of some previous thing nor corrupted into some further thing. It can come to be only by creation and it can cease to be only by annihilation. This may sound more like Leibniz speaking about monads than Aquinas talking about the human soul. But though no one would foist on Aquinas either the theory of monads or a theory of mind-body parallelism (such as the pre-established harmony theory), nevertheless, on the soul’s ingenerability and incorruptibility the two philosophers agree. Neither Aquinas nor Leibniz is a pan-evolutionist just because both believed in simple entities.

xvi

Introduction

From the foregoing, a general, if woefully negative and inadequate, picture of Aquinas’s philosophy emerges. It is a philosophy that rejects one and all of the following positions: both identity and global materialism, mechanism, Cartesian dualism, epiphenomenalism, panpsychism, parallelism, rationalism (as opposed to existentialism in the sense specified), fatalism, atheism, agnosticism, both subjective and objective idealism, monism, Platonism, nominalism, conceptualism, Kantianism, naturalism, scientism, logical positivism, evolutionism, and most forms of existentialism. Just how and why Aquinas ends up in opposition to these as well as other views is seen only when, in a positive way, the details of his system are spelled out. Toward that end I begin with what Aquinas himself would consider an appropriate starting point, namely, change and its causes.

Chapter One

Change and Its Causes

CHANGE, FLUX, AND SUCCESSION Change is always change of something from something to something. It is either the generation of some form in a subject or the corruption of some form in a subject. Thus a leaf changes from green to brown in autumn. Since the ‘of’ here signifies a substrate or thing-that-changes i.e. the leaf, change is not flux. The latter, if it exists, has been compared to a fast flowing stream. Here, it is alleged that nothing is the same from one moment to the next. There is no enduring substrate. From this comes the adage that one cannot step in the same river twice. But unlike flux, change implies an enduring substrate. Change also differs in this respect from succession. One drop of water succeeds another in a dripping faucet. That is evidently different from saying either that a stream of water flows continuously or that the water in the faucet becomes warmer or cooler. Again, one flashing light succeeds another on a panel. That is not the same as saying either that a stream of colors occurs continuously without interruption on the panel or that the panel itself changes from one color to another. In each case the first is succession, the second flux, and the third change. Philosophers differ on which one, if any, of these is ultimately real. Is the real identified with pure flux? If so, then change and succession are appearances of this flux. Are both flux and change appearances of succession? Are succession and flux both appearances of change? Are all three of them appearances of some deeper, changeless reality? Or are all three of them equally real? Defenders of universal flux must explain the appearance of breaks in the flow. If all there is is a uniform flow, why does the flow appear to us to be static and chopped up both spatially and temporally? Either these breaks or 1

2

Chapter One

stops in the flow belong to the flow or not. If they do, then reality is not a uniform flux or flow after all. If they do not and the breaks or stops are introduced into the flow from without, then once again it follows that reality is not identified with a uniform flow. For then something outside the flow interacts with the flow. And that means that reality is a dualism of flow and non-flow and not a monism of pure flow. It might be countered that breaks in the flow are just the way the flow appears to mind which, says Bergson, stops the flux through forming abstract ideas for the sake of analysis.1 From this, though, it follows that mind or intellect does not know reality. And a flux philosopher like Bergson consistently draws that consequence. To the extent that it uses mind or intellect to know the world, then, natural science is in principle defeated. For the ‘knowledge’ it achieves is not knowledge of the world at all but a distortion of the world. Yet one might question a philosopher like Bergson as regards the place of intellect in the ubiquitous flow. For intellect, which stops the flow that characterizes reality, either belongs to that flow or not. Either it is part of reality or part of appearance. But either way spells trouble for the flux philosopher. If intellect, which distorts reality, is itself part of reality, then intellect distorts itself. And then the flux philosopher scarcely says without distortion that intellect stops or breaks up the uniform flow. But if intellect belongs to appearance, then it is something static or frozen. As such, it is the product of another intellect which, if it belongs to appearance, is the product of still another intellect and so on, ad infinitum. Along the same lines, the proposition that reality is a flux is a true proposition according to flux philosophers. But that very truth is either part of the flow or it is not. If so, then it is not really true at all but forever passing into falsehood. If not, then truth belongs to appearance and not to reality. And then no flux philosopher makes true propositions about reality, including the proposition that reality is a flux.

CHANGE VERSUS CREATION AND ANNIHILATION Besides being irreducible to either pure flux or mere succession, change also excludes creation and annihilation. ‘Change’ means either generation or corruption. All change or becoming is the coming to be of some new form (accidental or essential) out of pre-existing matter. Since in any change there must be a thing that changes, no change is pure flux. Moreover, the very meaning of ‘change’ excludes creation.2 For change implies a pre-existing substance that was once one way and is now another. Prior to change there is a substance. But in creation there is no preexisting substance. Prior to creation

Change and Its Causes

3

is nothing. Change, then, is evolution as opposed to creation or mere succession, so long as it is understood that the new form that is evolved out of matter is not necessarily higher or more perfect than its predecessor. For example, death is an example of a substantial change. It is also a case of a corpse evolving out of living matter, just as the living person herself at one time evolved out of a fertilized egg. By contrast, creation is the production of something all at once in its entirety i.e. out of no preexisting material. That occurs when, in the view of Aquinas and others, God makes the world or an individual human soul. And mere succession occurs when one event simply follows another without having been generated out of the latter. Thus, we say that one marching band succeeds another in a parade or that one knock on a door succeeds another. In both creation and succession there is no enduring substrate or thing-that-changes as there is in change or becoming. Moreover, that change in the sense of generation or corruption occurs not only in us but also in the external world philosophers like Aristotle and Aquinas do not doubt. They do not employ anything like Cartesian doubt about the external world. They take change as a datum and then ask what the conditions are under which alone it is possible. These conditions are brought out by reviewing Aquinas’s account of how Aristotle answers the Parmenidean dilemma of change.3

THE DILEMMA OF CHANGE Aquinas summarizes the celebrated Parmenidean dilemma as follows: if being comes to be it comes to be either from being or from non-being. But being does not come to be from being or else being already is and hence does not come to be. And being does not come to be from non-being since being cannot come from nothing.4 So being does not come to be at all and all change is illusory. When Socrates becomes musical, musical comes to be either from musical or from unmusical. But once again neither one is allowed. Musical does not come to be from musical or else it already is and hence does not come to be. And musical evidently does not come to be from unmusical, at least from the unmusical as such. So Socrates’ friends are wrong in believing that Socrates has become musical. Aristotle’s celebrated way out takes off from the foregoing phrase, ‘just as such.’ Of course musical does not come to be from unmusical as such or per se. Nothing comes to be from its privation per se. Otherwise Parmenides is right and we are saddled with saying that something comes to be from nothing. But from this it does not follow that musical does not come to be from unmusical in any sense. Musical comes to be from unmusical per accidens. What this means is that musical comes to be

4

Chapter One

from unmusical in the sense that, that from which musical does come to be per se, i.e. Socrates, happens to be unmusical. Thus, change is made possible only by presupposing a substrate that perdures throughout. It is not that musical comes to be from unmusical but that unmusical Socrates becomes musical Socrates. And this substrate is a principle of potentiality with respect to the new actuality (in this case being musical) that comes to characterize it. Thus, when Socrates becomes musical being does not come to be from nonbeing as such. And that is because being comes from something in which not all being is removed. This avoids the contradiction of saying that being comes to be from non-being since it is from non-being per accidens and not from non-being per se that being comes to be.5 Thus does one avoid the second horn of Parmenides’ fork. Moreover, just as in any change being comes to be from non-being per accidens and not per se (otherwise being comes from non-being), so too is it true that in all change being comes to be from being per accidens and not from being per se. Otherwise the first horn of Parmenides’ fork takes hold and being already is before it comes to be. When Socrates becomes musical, being comes to be from being. Otherwise something comes from nothing. But being here does not come to be from being as such but from being as having in it some non-being or privation. When Socrates becomes musical being does not come to be from being as such just because being here comes from something in which not all non-being is removed. So being comes to be from being per accidens and not from being per se just as we saw that being comes to be from non-being per accidens and not from non-being per se.6 The matter is conveniently summarized by saying that when Socrates becomes musical it is not that musical comes to be from either musical or unmusical as such but that the composite thing, unmusical Socrates becomes the composite thing, musical Socrates. Generally stated, when being comes to be it comes to be neither from being as such nor from non-being as such but from being with a privation and from non-being in a subject, respectively.7 Aquinas observes in this context that the same reply to Parmenides’ fork is explained by the distinction between potency and act, as Aristotle indicates in the Metaphysics.8 What he has in mind is this. We can deny both that actual being comes from actual being and that it comes from simple non-being by distinguishing actual from potential being. For it can be said that actual being comes to be from potential being, which is neither actual being nor simple non-being.9 We thus get between the horns of the dilemma. When Socrates becomes musical, being comes to be from being in the sense that musical Socrates comes to be from Socrates as potentially musical. Of course, not everything is potentially musical. The potentialities a thing has evidently vary with the sort of thing it is. Potentialities are relative to actualities. A rock is

Change and Its Causes

5

neither actually nor potentially musical. Being musical is not in a rock and the sense of ‘is not’ here is non-being pure and simple. That shows the difference between potential being and simple non-being. But when Socrates, who is not musical, becomes musical, the sense of ‘is not’ here is non-actual or potential being and not simple non-being. The actuation of potentiality is a case of being coming to be from being per accidens and not from being per se. For the being from which musical comes to be, Socrates, includes non-being. In Socrates is found the absence or privation of musical. Further, that from which being musical comes to be, i.e. unmusical Socrates, does not remain after the change. But, says Aquinas, that from which a being comes to be per se does remain after the change.10 Thus, Socrates and the form musical are that from which musical Socrates comes to be per se since these two things, the matter and the form, remain after the change.

THE SUBSTRATE OF CHANGE Under this solution to the dilemma of change, change requires three principles in the changeable object. These are matter or substrate, form, and privation. In our example the matter is Socrates, the form is musical and the privation is the lack of being musical in Socrates. But it is evident that Socrates, though substrate in this context, is not ultimate substrate. For Socrates himself passes away as well as Socrates’ being unmusical, pale, seated, clothed, and so on. And when that happens, it is once again not a case of some new being coming to be from either being as such or simple non-being. It is a case of being coming to be from being per accidens and from non-being per accidens. It is a case of some deeper substrate T behind Socrates losing the form of humanity and assuming the form of a corpse. It is a case of a more fundamental principle of potentiality acquiring a new actuality. Otherwise we are on the horns of Parmenides’ fork again and change is excluded. Let it be assumed, then, that all change requires an enduring substrate. Then if, like our first substrate, Socrates, the deeper substrate T is itself susceptible of corruption, then a still deeper substrate U is required. And if for its part U is corruptible then an even more basic substrate V is required, and so on. If this goes on to infinity, then there is no ultimate substrate, i.e. no substrate that has not itself been generated out of a further substrate. Is that possible? Aristotle and Aquinas say that it is not possible.11 Given that the notion of a substrate or matter enters into the definition of a changeable thing, it follows that if there is no ultimate substrate then any one substrate, say, Socrates, is made up of an infinite number of logically prior substrates as conditions. If

6

Chapter One

Socrates came to be out of T and T came to be out of U and U came to be out of V and V came to be out of W, and so on, then Socrates contains T,U,V,W and an infinite number of other substrates. But any whole that requires an infinite number of parts cannot be. For the internal conditions necessary for its existence are never completed. All explanation goes back to primitive things or truths for which the quest for further explanation is senseless. Besides, what has an infinite number of principles is unknown.12 But if natural things are unknown then there is no natural science. Therefore, to explain the existence of any one substrate like Socrates and to make science possible, an ultimate substrate must be posited. This, of course, is a substrate which is not itself either generable or corruptible. With what is this ultimate substrate identified?

PRIMAL MATTER AS ULTIMATE SUBSTRATE As opposed to pre-Socratic natural philosophers, Aristotle denies that this ultimate substrate is some actual physical thing like water, earth, air or fire. And this for at least two reasons. First, the view implies that everything in the world is of the same sort. If Thales is right and the ultimate substrate is water, then all is water. That not only flouts our experience but it means that what appears to be substantial change is really only alteration. It implies the oddity that when, for example, a tree burns into ashes only an accidental change occurs. Arboreal water becomes ashen water. Second, the view fails to explain difference. If all is water, what accounts for the different states that water takes on? The fact that something is arboreal water rather than ashen water is evidently due to something besides water. But if there is nothing but water, how is this difference possible? Nor does it help to relegate all differences to appearance as opposed to reality. For something in reality must account for the apparent differences. Unless they are illusory, these differences must be well-founded appearances. But that means that differences in reality account for differences in appearance. Otherwise the appearances are not well-founded. But the trouble is, there cannot possibly be such differences in reality if reality is simply water. It might be countered that while this tells against identifying the ultimate substrate with water, air, fire, etc., it does not exclude identifying it with things about which both ancient and medieval philosophers were ignorant, namely, atoms (in the modern sense) or energy. Here again, since all change is nothing but re-configuration of atomic (or of subatomic) particles or the transition from one state of energy to another, it follows that all change is alteration. But the difference makes no difference. For once again the problem

Change and Its Causes

7

is that no account is given of difference. At least this holds in the case of energy. For suppose that all is energy. Then it is evidently not energy that explains the different states of energy. That energy is in one state or of one type instead of being in another state or of another type is due to some differentia that is outside the genus energy. By comparison, rationality, which separates humans from brutes, is outside the genus animal. But if all is energy or energy is the ultimate substrate, then there is nothing outside energy from which any difference can come. So either the different states of energy are illusory or else it is not the case that all is energy and hence that energy is the ultimate substrate. The argument might be generalized such that it excludes identifying the ultimate substrate with any actual thing whatsoever and not just with energy. Thus, 1. Suppose that the ultimate substrate behind all change is some actual thing, A. 2. Then A is the widest genus. 3. But since difference is outside genus, then all difference within A is due to something other than A. 4. So, either the ultimate substrate is not identified with some actual thing A, or else there is another actual thing, B, that causes the differences in A. 5. But if the latter is true, then, in causing differences to come to be in A, B must move from potentially causing those differences to actually causing them. 6. In this latter change, B is not only itself a substrate, but it is also a substrate that does not include, and hence is independent of, the supposed ultimate substrate. Otherwise B is not something other than A as is stated in 2. 7. But no substrate is independent of the supposed ultimate substrate. For by definition, the ultimate substrate is behind all substrata and all change. 8. Therefore, 1 above is false and the supposed ultimate substrate is not identified with some actual thing. But an even broader reason bars any actual thing, be it energy, atoms, etc. from serving as the ultimate substrate or substrata in change. It is based on the logical relations of genus, difference and species. Genus is the abstraction from difference which is related to genus as act to potentiality. Thus, animal is the abstraction from the difference rational with respect to the species human. But any genus is wider or narrower according as it is abstracted from more or less difference. Thus, organism is wider than animal since it abstracts not only from the difference rational but also from the difference sentient. It follows that the widest genus, substance, is the abstraction from all difference. It is potentiality to all difference. Otherwise the widest genus is not genus alone but a composite of genus and difference. And then, since the

8

Chapter One

composite of genus and difference is species and species falls under genus, it follows that some genus is wider than the supposed widest genus. But genus is taken from matter (potentiality) while difference is taken from form (actuality). Therefore, the widest genus, substance, signifies ultimate matter or substrate. It is matter as abstracted from all specificity or form. This is primal matter or substrate which, because it must be potential to all form (act), is in and of itself bereft of any form (act). So unless the logic of genus, difference and species is abandoned, the ultimate substrate is identified with no actual thing like water, air, atoms or even energy, but with the pure potentiality of a thing to be the kind of thing it is or to become a different kind of thing. Thus, 1. Suppose that there is no widest genus but that for any genus g, there is a wider genus, g + 1. 2. Then any one genus is composed of an infinite number of genera as logical conditions. 3. But an infinite number of logical conditions cannot be met. 4. So if 1 is true, then no genus has determinate sense and so is indefinable. 5. But some genera are definable. 6. Therefore, 1 is false and there is a widest genus. 7. This highest genus is genus alone without difference; otherwise it is a species of a wider genus and so is not the widest genus. 8. But genus is taken from matter and difference from form. 9. Therefore, corresponding to the widest genus, substance, is matter without form, i.e. primary matter.

A DIFFICULTY WITH SUBSTANCE But right here a difficulty surfaces about substance. If genus is taken from matter, then the widest genus signifies ultimate or primary matter. But the widest genus is substance. Therefore substance is ultimate or primary matter. But in the Categories, Aristotle identifies substance not with matter but with the composite of matter and form, say, a particular tree. True, in one respect the two are similar. For neither one is predicable of a subject. In that respect they both differ from form which is predicable. But they differ as the composite differs from the simple. This particular tree is not present in something else the way in which primal matter is present in it. And so the question is one of consistency. How can substance be identified both with matter and with the composite of matter and form? The answer is that in Aristotle and Aquinas, as in Descartes and Locke four centuries later, ‘substance’ is not an univocal term. In the view of Aquinas,

Change and Its Causes

9

‘substance’ refers either to God or to creatures. Here, ’substance’ has the general sense of being essentially independent, i.e of being neither present in nor predicable of something. But even here substance as predicated of God and substance as predicated of creatures is not the same. For since God is his own act of existence while creatures are not, essential independence in God incorporates but goes beyond essential independence in creatures. Second, among created things, substance sometimes refers to form, sometimes to matter, and sometimes to the composite of form and matter both. Here, ‘substance’ has the sense of being susceptible of form, of being subject. Matter, for example, is by definition the potentiality for form in the sense of species. As for form in the sense of species, it is for its part something that is susceptible of further (accidental) form. Thus, it can be said of a human being that it is the sort of thing that is risible. Further, in accidental change it is form as species that is the enduring subject of the change. And finally, as regards the composite of matter and form, it is once again something that is susceptible of further (accidental) form. Thus, Socrates who is now standing may later be seated. In all three cases the common element is the idea of being subject with respect to specificity or form. But of these three entities, matter alone is susceptible of all specificity or form. For in and of itself it has no form. It follows that ‘substance’ in this second sense belongs most properly to ultimate or primary matter. And it is substance in this sense of ultimate matter or substrate that is signified by the highest genus. Care must be taken not to identify this primary matter or substrate of Aquinas and Aristotle with Locke’s celebrated idea of substance in general. True, both of them are ultimate substrata. And Locke’s characterization of substance in general as “something I know not what” invites the conclusion that it is one with primary matter in being formless. After all, what Berkeley seizes upon in his criticism of Locke is true, namely, that what the latter calls the general idea of substance does not have attributes of its own. For it stands beneath all attributes. Locke’s substance, then, is bare or characterless just like primary matter. But despite these similarities, at least two differences separate the two notions. First, Locke’s substance is evidently substance in the first of the two senses mentioned above. It is independent in that it is neither present in nor predicable of something else. By contrast, we saw that primary matter is, along with form, always present in some physical thing as one of its principles. So in the sense in which Locke’s substance is independent, Aristotle’s primary matter is dependent. Second, while it is bereft of attributes of its own, Locke’s substance is none the less (and curiously) an actual thing. But primary matter is no actual thing at all but just the potentiality in a thing to be what it is or to become something else.

10

Chapter One

MATTER AS INGENERABLE AND INCORRUPTIBLE Finally, as to the question of the origin of primary matter, the answer is that it has no origin, if by ‘having an origin’ it is meant being generated out of something. For primary matter is ingenerable and incorruptible13 As the ground of all generation and corruption, primary matter is not itself either generated or corrupted. Otherwise primal matter exists both before it is generated and after it is corrupted. For it is clear from the foregoing analysis of change that all generation is generation out of matter and that all corruption is corruption into matter. Yet that leaves open the possibility that primary matter is created, since creation is not generation. Thus, while Aquinas is one with Aristotle in denying that matter is generated, he refuses to follow Aristotle’s view that matter is eternal. For the other possibility is that it is created. And while Aquinas denies that the creation of matter in or with time can be proved, he none the less believes that it is true as an article of faith.

THE FOUR CAUSES From the preceding assay of change in terms of matter, form, and privation the celebrated theory of the four causes emerges. Aristotle views each one of the four causes as being necessary but not sufficient conditions of change. Two of these four causes, the formal and material causes, are identified with form and matter respectively, the two per se principles of change. They are called pe se principles because they remain after any given change whereas the privation does not. In any case, ‘matter’ here has the sense of substrate or that which changes from one thing to another. This as opposed to three other senses of ‘matter’ which Aquinas, for one, distinguishes. These are a) that of which something is made (as a chair is made of wood), b) that from which something comes (as an oak comes from an acorn) or c), that into which things dissolve, as living bodies dissolve into dust.14 In any case, it is easy to see how the other two causes, i.e. the efficient and final causes, are also extracted from change. As for the efficient cause, something x is reduced from a state of being potentially F to a state of being actually F only by something else which acts on x. Stone goes from potentially being Athene to actually being Athene by the action Phidias. Hume’s billiard ball goes from potentially moving to actually moving by the stroke of the billiard-player. These activities of Phidias and the billiard-player are examples of efficient causality. And in ordinary discourse it is with activities like this that causes are usually identified. Moreover, when they are either agents or the instruments of agents, these moving or efficient causes are themselves

Change and Its Causes

11

spoken of as being either potential or actual. Thus, Phidias and the billiardplayer are the potential efficient causes while Phidias-qua-sculpturing and the player-qua-striking-the-ball are the actual efficient causes of the coming to be of Athene and the ball’s movement, respectively. Thus, when they are either agents or instruments of agents, actual efficient causes are always simultaneous with their effects while potential efficient causes are not. Phidias exists long before the coming to be of Athene but the actual efficient cause, i.e. Phidias-qua-sculpturing Athene both begins with the coming to be of Athene and ceases with the completion of Athene.

EFFICIENT CAUSE For their part, acting efficient causes may be either primary or secondary. Secondary efficient causes are instrumental efficient causes when the primary efficient cause is a person. The stick’s impact on the ball is the secondary or instrumental efficient cause of the ball’s moving down the table while the billiard-player who directs the stick’s motion against the ball is evidently the primary efficient cause of the movement. Such an hierarchical causal series in which instrumental causes are subordinated to a primary efficient cause exemplifies what Aquinas calls a causal series per se. That is because it is essential to the causal action of the instrumental efficient cause in the series that it be caused by something else. Thus, since the stick moves the ball only because it is itself moved by the player, it is essential and not accidental to the causal action of the stick that it is moved by the player. And Aquinas denies that there can be an infinite regress of efficient causes that are per se required for any effect or change. Otherwise the change does not occur. In causal chains of this sort, the absence of a first mover implies the absence of any other mover and hence of the effect. Aquinas also admits non-hierarchical series or what he calls causal series per accidens. These are temporal or historical chains of efficient causes. There is no subordination of secondary causes to a primary cause. Instead, the causes line up horizontally, so to speak. Thus, a paramecium, P, generates an offspring, R, which in time generates another offspring, T, and so on. Here it is accidental and not essential to T qua generating that T was previously generated by R. True, T must have been itself generated in order for it now to generate. But it is not essential but accidental to T’s now generating that it was generated by R. It is not like the case of the stick that moves only because it is being moved. Otherwise one must say that P is more properly the cause of T than R is, and that is counterintuitive. And when it comes to this kind of causal series, a causal series per accidens, Aquinas does not rule out the possibility

12

Chapter One

of an infinite regress of efficient causes.15 For here, unlike the case of a per se causal series, no member of the series depends for its causal action on its being caused by another agent’s action. It does not move only because it is simultaneously being moved by another. Each one is a mover in its own right. And just because of that, each one’s action is sufficient for its effect in the sense that it does not require a further action working simultaneously behind it. But it was stated that according to Aquinas the only reason why in a per se series a first efficient cause must be posited is that otherwise there is no sufficient reason for the effect. For a sufficient efficient cause is then lacking. But since any arbitrarily selected cause in a per accidens causal series is a sufficient efficient cause of its effect, it follows that in such a series it is not necessary to arrive at a first efficient cause. In fact, it seems that positing an absolutely first efficient cause in such a series is impossible. For suppose that there is such a cause, F. Then something must move F from being a potential efficient cause to being an actual one. For since the members of a per accidens causal series are not always causing their effects, they are moved to do so by another. And under the AristotelianThomistic account of change, that can only be another efficient cause. But in that case F is not an absolutely first efficient cause after all. Nor can there be in a per accidens causal series any such thing as an absolutely first change or an absolutely last change. For suppose that there is an absolutely first change, G, in some subject, S. Then under the Aristotelian account of change, G requires an efficient cause or mover, M. But in causing G in S, M itself goes from potentially moving S to actually moving S, and this change is evidently prior to G. Hence, if there is an absolutely first change G in a subject S, then there is a change before the supposed first change and that is contradictory. Therefore, there is no absolutely first change in any string of causes in which the causation of one member is only incidentally or accidentally the cause of the causation of another member. A similar argument excludes there being in such a series an absolutely last change. For suppose that there is an absolutely last change L in some subject S. Then either some further change L+1occurs in S or not. If so, then L is evidently not the absolutely last change. If not, then L is still not the absolutely last change. For S’s ceasing to change after the supposed last change L is itself a change. For up to and including the occurrence of L, S is a mobile being. But if L is the absolutely last change, then after the occurrence of L S is no longer a mobile being. And this change from S’s being a mobile being to S’s not being a mobile being is evidently a change after the supposed last change L. It follows that there can no more be an absolutely last change in a causal series per accidens than there can be an absolutely first change. Change always occurs in the material universe. But from that it does not fol-

Change and Its Causes

13

low that the latter is eternal. For it is possible that the world along with its continuous change is created and creation, as was said, is not change.

FINAL CAUSE But what about the final cause? Is it true that any change requires a final cause which is the end or purpose for which the change occurs? While this might not be disputed in cases where the efficient cause is a person, it might and has been disputed in so-called natural changes i.e. in changes in nature that occur independently of us human beings. I act for an end in walking, i.e. for the sake of health, but do the activities in animals and plants occur for the sake of an end, not to mention the events that take place in non-living things? In short, is there purpose in nature, quite apart from human purpose? Explicit and direct arguments in behalf of natural purpose appear in Aquinas’s Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics. There, Aquinas recounts with approval five arguments of Aristotle in Physics Book II (198b 34–199a 33). None of these arguments appear to be conclusive and none of them are as strong as one which is implicit in Aristotle’s account of efficient causality. This latter argument will be considered subsequently. In any case, the first argument proceeds as follows. All natural changes occur either in all or in most instances. But nothing that occurs by chance occurs either in all or in most instances. Thus, we do not say that it happens by chance that heat occurs during the dog days. But everything that happens happens either by chance or for the sake of an end. Therefore, all natural changes occur for the sake of an end. Here, one might challenge the last premise of the argument. Why should it be assumed that the disjunct exhausts all possibilities? For it seems that something might occur by physical necessity instead of by chance or by design. The second argument is this. As something is done naturally, so is it disposed to be done and vice versa. But things that happen naturally happen in such a way as to lead to an end in the sense of an a final result. Therefore, assuming that there are no impediments, things that happen naturally happen in such a way that they are disposed to be done. But to be disposed to be done is to be done for the sake of an end. Therefore, change in nature occurs for the sake of an end. As to the second premise, Aquinas gives an example. In the growth of trees, first comes the roots, then the trunk, and finally the branches on top. Art follows nature in this temporal priority. In house-building, first comes the foundation, then the walls, and finally the roof. In each case one stage follows another until a final result is reached.

14

Chapter One

One might here challenge the first premise. Why should it be true that because things in fact occur in nature in a certain order, that they are disposed to occur in that order? Aquinas might answer that the fact that they regularly do occur in a certain order excludes their occurring by chance. Even so, it does not follow from this that they are a priori disposed to occur the way they do, i.e. that they occur by design. Once again, the assumption behind the argument seems to be that things occur in nature either by chance or by design and that there is no third alternative. Third, some things are produced by art but not by nature and vice versa. Thus, a house is produced by art but not by nature while a tree is produced by nature but not by art. However, in those things that are produced both by art and by nature (e.g. health) art imitates nature. As nature heals by heating an cooling, so too does art. But things made by art are made for the sake of an end. Therefore, things made by nature are made for the sake of an end. Even if one assumes that some things are made both by art and by nature and that in such cases art imitates nature, the question still remains as to whether, in such cases, art in all respects imitates nature. Only if that assumption is made does the argument succeed. The fourth argument runs as follows. Since some animals always act in the same way, it is clear that they do not act either through art, inquiry, or deliberation. For what acts through art, inquiry, or deliberation acts through intelligence. But what acts through intelligence does not always act in the same way. Thus, not every builder builds a house in the same way. But spiders, ants, bees, birds, etc. always make things in the same way. That is what prompts some to believe that they do act through intelligence. Therefore, since the actions of such animals are evidently for the sake of an end but are not due to intelligence, they are due to nature. But in that case it follows that nature acts for the sake of an end. To this it might be objected that the supposed fact that some animals always act in the same way excludes their acting from intelligence does not imply that nature acts for the sake of an end. For it is possible that these animals always act in the same way because they act out of natural necessity and not because they act for an end. The fifth and last argument turns on the definition of nature. Nature signifies either the matter or the form. But the form is the end of generation and the nature of an end is that other things come to be for the sake of it. Therefore, to be and to come to be for the sake of something is found in natural things. It is difficult to see how this argument escapes begging the question. If the form that is generated out of matter in any change is simply defined as the end of that generation, then it must be true that things in nature occur for the sake

Change and Its Causes

15

of an end. But by what warrant is the end-result of a natural change identified with an end in the sense of a goal or target? But as was mentioned, a more promising argument for natural purpose might be culled from examining the interrelation of the four causes. To see how it goes, I begin with purpose in us and then consider purpose in nature. Philosophers and scientists generally deny natural purpose. They say that the latter was previously used to explain what was later found to be entirely covered by efficient causes. That suggests that present and future natural phenomena will be likewise explained, again making final causes unnecessary. Besides, “explanation” by final cause is empirically unverifiable and hence unscientific. It is therefore metaphysical explanation and this has long since been abandoned. So joining induction, Ockham’s Razor and the principle of verifiability, contemporary scientists and philosophers can only shun natural purpose. Yet classical pragmatists like James and Dewey were right that at least in us, purpose is central. It links or stands between our choices and actions. This involves a reciprocity whereby ends are both causes and effects. They are causes of action though effects of choice. They thus get between and connect the two. If I am bent on building a skiff, I scan various models before choosing one of them. Then I start to replicate it in wood. Choosing that model over its rivals makes it an end or goal. Before my choice, the other patterns as well as the chosen one are possible ends only. Since it is my choice of the latter that makes it an actual end, that choice is the efficient cause of the selected model’s becoming an end. So the efficient cause is the cause of some pattern’s becoming a final cause. Yet the chosen model or pattern is clearly the final cause of the subsequent efficient cause of my building the skiff. It is that for the sake of which I build. So while a prior efficient cause makes some form a final cause, the latter instigates a subsequent efficient cause, thus making for a reciprocity between efficient and final causes. The subsequent efficient cause temporally follows and depends on its predecessor. After all, I choose to build before I build. Moreover, the choice conditions the action and might even exist without it. I might choose to build but later face unseen obstacles. But there is no action without the choice. Since I build because I choose and not vice versa, the choice is the first and the action the second efficient cause of the end, in this case, the skiff. And the two are tied by a final cause, in this case, my chosen model or pattern. In this mutual causal activity the end or final cause is necessary for both the being and connection of the two efficient causes. It is nonsense to say that I choose a model to build unless that model is by that choice made the end of my building. And since all action is for the end, if no model is end then no building begins. As for the linkage, how does my choosing a model to build

16

Chapter One

instigate my building it unless that model pre-exists my action as target? Here, as in all cases of human operations, two successive efficient causes, choice and action, are linked only by a final cause. Moreover, that choice and action are tied via a cause of a different kind avoids a regress. As soon as I choose one of the plans, my building becomes a live possibility. I now become bent on building. What ties my choice to my building, actualizing the bent, is not a third event or efficient cause standing between the other two, i.e. the choice and the action. Otherwise a fourth event is needed to join the third to the events it ties, and so on. To bypass this regress and actuate my tendency to build, therefore, two conditions must be met. First, the tie must be something actual like the events it ties. For only the actual realizes the possible. Second, though actual, the tie must be a different kind of cause than the events it ties if the regress is to be blocked. Both conditions are satisfied when the tie is identified with my chosen ideal pattern which, as end, elicits my building. Thus, reason and common sense both require final causes to link the efficient causes of choice and action in all our activities. Choice, action and end thus comprise an interrelated causal triad.

TELEOLOGY IN NATURE Nevertheless, bracketing human choices and actions, does this causal triad appear in nature?16 True, modern philosophers either deny natural purpose outright or else they doubt that we can know whether or not nature is telic. But is it really true that this triad is never found in nature? Can it be said that claims to the contrary only amount to anthropomorphism, i.e. to foisting onto nature our own human ways and means of organizing our world? If so, then Aristotle is guilty of putting the cart before the horse. It is not art and craft which copy nature; it is nature which we falsely construe as copying art and craft. Even so, reflection shows that Aristotle and his medieval follower Aquinas had a case. That nature can plausibly be said to exemplify our triad is indicated by reproduction. Consider a paramecium (call it m) which as the result of growth changes reaches full maturity. The maturation of m inclines it toward reproductive changes just as my choosing a skiff-model inclines me toward skiff-building. What happens is that m develops a new mouth and gullet and these break off from the old ones. In what is called the anastage, its micronucleus develops two sets of chromosomes at its two ends. The two offspring micronuclei in the telophase become separated and move toward m’s two poles. In addition, m’s macronucleus grows along m’s length and then splits into two

Change and Its Causes

17

offspring macronuclei. These then move away from each other. Next m begins to narrow around the middle, eventually splitting in two and spawning a new paramecium, p.17 So two paramecia, m and p, are produced in the end, each one having its own mouth, gullet, micronucleus and macronucleus. In all of this, it is as if m’s reproductive changes happen in order to replicate m’s very form. And yet from Galileo to modern biology this prima facie purpose has been denied, and philosophers and scientists have assayed m’s splitting in terms of efficient causes alone. In any mature paramecium regular changes precede and occasion its splitting. m’s growth changes mechanically explain its reproductive changes and the latter also mechanically occasion the appearance of p by binary fission or by m’s splitting. It is, they say, unjustified to claim that m aims at its own form, or in other words that the mature form of paramecium in m elicits m’s reproductive changes as an end elicits the means to that end. This alleged design in nature is a relic of outdated metaphysics. Instead, m’s reproductive changes are due in their entirety to a series of antecedent efficient causes which act from behind to produce p. And yet, does not this one-sided mechanism spawn a vicious regress? The maturation of m makes it liable to reproduce just as my choice of a skiffmodel sets me to building it. Yet what joins the growth to the reproductive changes, thus actualizing the latter, is no third event or events, standing between the other two. For then a fourth is needed to link the third to the events it ties, and so on. Once again, this regress is dodged only by linking the growth and reproductive changes with a link of a different ontological kind. That is no event or efficient cause like the growth and reproductive changes it joins but the mature form or nature of paramecium which, as end, elicits m’s reproductive changes as means. It might be countered that nothing to begin with is needed to tie the growth changes in m to its reproductive changes. For the former suffice for the latter. The supposed regress being blocked at its source, therefore, the argument for final causes unravels. And with this, Ockham’s Razor is served too since types of causes in nature are not unnecessarily multiplied. This objection contains a nugget of truth. While no third event or efficient cause ties m’s growth changes to its reproductive changes, still, to say that nothing whatsoever ties the two implies that the reproductive changes, which lie dormant in the maturation of m, actuate themselves. But that is unacceptable. Events like m’s growing a second mouth and gullet, its micronuclei moving to either one of its poles, the elongation of its macronucleus, etc., reside in m as live options once m attains maturity via its successive growth changes. By analogy, my building the skiff exists in me as a live option once I choose its model as over against others. But in each case the live option remains just a possibility unless and until it is actualized. But it is in each case

18

Chapter One

actualized only by what is behind and common to the sets of events in question, i.e. the growth and reproductive changes in the one case and my choosing and building in the other. This link or mediator is no event or efficient cause but an intelligible form or pattern taken as final cause from which the sets of events in each case issue. In both cases, the connection works like this. The effect in question is an event, i.e. the skiff’s coming-to-be and p’s coming-to-be. The two efficient causes in the first are my choosing the skiff as model and my replicating it in wood. The two efficient causes in the second case are m’s maturation and its ensuing reproductive activities. In the first case what ties the two is the ideal model of the skiff in me which, by my choosing it, becomes the target of my building. This serves as a go-between, joining my choice and my building. This it can do because it is behind them both and internal to the agent. Before I choose the skiff, the latter is just one among other models, none of which have yet become my goal. But no sooner do I choose the model of the skiff than the latter becomes attractive, instigating my building-process. It is the same form that is behind both my choice and my building. One only chooses and builds what one knows. In this way, three causes occur successively, forming a triad of unity amid diversity. The ideal model of the skiff conditions my choosing it. For I choose only what I know. That choice in turn gives that ideal model the status of a goal or end. Finally, that same ideal pattern as end elicits my building as means. Thus are two moving or efficient causes connected by a final cause, making a systematic or integrated causal triad. The same holds for m’s birthing p. The form or essence of m is the condition of the growth changes that occur in m before m’s reproductive changes. The former are what make the form or nature of paramecium in m the end or goal of the latter. Thus do formal and efficient causes jointly exemplify a thoroughgoing reciprocity. No sooner does m mature than the form of paramecium in m takes on attractiveness, drawing out of m the reproductive changes that were mentioned. The latter, then, occur for the sake of reproducing that form. Similarly, no sooner do I choose the model of the skiff than the latter becomes a magnet, drawing out of me the process of building. And once again, the latter occurs for the sake of reproducing that form or model. The difference is that in the former case the pre-existing form is in re whereas in the latter it is in mente. But in each case does the first efficient cause cause the pre-existing form to become an end or final cause. Just as, once chosen, the form of the skiff in me becomes the goal of my building, so too does the nature of paramecium in m become the goal of m’s reproductive changes once m’s the growth changes occur. When in each case the one efficient cause occurs, the nature or form, which already pre-exists in the agent, becomes a goal, drawing out of the agent the other efficient cause or activity which is

Change and Its Causes

19

means to that goal. These are my building and m’s reproductive changes, respectively. Thus is that nature or form a final cause, bridging the two other causes. And in each case, the result of this systematic causal triad is the replication of that same pre-existing nature or form. To sum up the foregoing account, while in each case the first efficient cause converts a form into an end to start with, it is the second efficient cause that realizes that end in matter. And while the second efficient cause realizes the final cause in matter, the final cause for its part initiates that causality. Exercising makes for fitness, observes Aristotle, and fitness makes for exercising.18 He might have said instead that in human carpentry building makes for a skiff but that a skiff makes for building. And in nature as opposed to human affairs, he might have said instead that splitting makes for paramecium and that paramecium makes for splitting. Only by positing this causal triad in which a final cause stands between two efficient causes do we explain the self-same phenomenon in art and nature both, namely, that pre-existing forms or patterns of all sorts are reproduced in new particulars.

OBJECTION: FINAL CAUSE AS SELF-CONTRADICTORY Opponents of this analysis might object that the idea of a final cause is contradictory. A final cause both conditions the activity of the efficient cause and is the result of that activity. It is thus at the same time both logically prior to that activity and consequent upon it. It is both the condition of the agent’s activity and conditioned by that activity. Thus, as the target of his sculpturing, Athene in Phidias’ mind directs his sculpturing as a model directs the thing modeled. It thus logically (as well as temporally) precedes his action. In this way does the final cause cause the efficient cause, as was said. But since in another sense the end or goal of Phidias’ sculpturing is evidently the completed Athene and not Phidias’ preconception of it, Phidias’ sculpturing logically (and temporally) precedes the final cause. The efficient cause thus causes the final cause. The clash is no less apparent in supposed non-human final causes. The form of a paramecium in the budding paramecium determines as an end the reproductive activities that produce a new paramecium. As final cause, that form logically (and temporally) precedes those activities. Once again, the final cause is the cause of the efficient cause. But since the natural end or goal of those activities is the production of a new paramecium it can be said that those same activities logically (and temporally) precede the supposed final cause and not the other way around. The objection, therefore, is that invoking final causality to solve the foregoing dilemma of efficient causes is implausible. The cure, so it seems, is worse

20

Chapter One

than the illness. Only if this prima facie contradiction in the idea of a final cause is resolved is the solution viable. But the question is, how is it resolved? How can final causes both condition and be conditioned by efficient causes?

THE OBJECTION ANSWERED The answer to this goes back to the dual status of a final cause. Any final cause is both first and last in different respects. It is both form as plan and form as realization of a plan. As the former it is first while as the latter it is last. Form as plan always exists in the agent and explains as an end the agent’s activities. Thus, the model of Athene exists intelligibly in Phidias, directing his activities as an end toward which he works. Form as realization of a plan, however, always exists in the end-result or product and is explained by the agent’s activities instead of explaining them. Thus, the form of the completed Athene exists in stone and is explained by the sculpturing of Phidias. As plan in the agent, a final cause is the cause of the efficient cause; as realization of a plan in the product, a final cause is the effect of the efficient cause. Since it is not the same respect in which ‘final cause’ is taken each time, no contradiction accrues. The same is true in non-human causes. As plan, the form of a paramecium exists in the budding paramecium, directing its activities as an end to the realization of that same form in something else. The latter is this time not stone, of course, but primal matter. But as realization of a plan, the form of a paramecium exists in the offspring paramecium and is explained by the activities of the budding or agent-paramecium. The point is that since it is not the very same thing that conditions the agent’s activities and that is conditioned by those activities, the alleged contradiction evaporates. What conditions those activities is the form as such taken apart form either real or psychological existence. Thus, what conditions Phidias’ sculpturing as end or final cause is neither the actual Athene nor an idea (in the sense of a mental entity) of Athene in Phidias’ mind. For the former does not yet exist and the latter is not that for the sake of which Phidias sculptures. Phidias evidently does not work in order to produce a mental entity. What conditions Phidias’ activities is instead a certain form of Athene taken just as such apart from any real or mental being it has. But what is conditioned or made by Phidias’ activities is the real Athene, i.e. not the form of Athene as such but the form of Athene as realized in stone. The same applies to our agent-paramecium, m. What conditions m’s activities as end or final cause is neither the new paramecium p nor an idea in the sense of a mental entity in m’s mind. For the former does not yet exist and the

Change and Its Causes

21

latter, even if it did exist, is not that for the sake of which m generates. Even if the latter had a mind in which the idea of a paramecium existed as a model, it is evidently not for the sake of reproducing that mental entity that m generates. What conditions m’s activities is instead the form of paramecium taken as such apart from any real or psychological being it has. But what is conditioned or made by m’s activities is not the form or species of paramecium as such but a real or existent paramecium, i.e. its offspring, p. Since, therefore, it is not the same thing that conditions and that is conditioned in each case, the supposed contradiction vanishes and the objection is answered. Thus, the relation between efficient and final causes is one of reciprocity. The efficient cause is cause of the final cause and the final cause is the cause of the efficient cause, though in different respects. Concurring with Aristotle, Aquinas states, . . . The efficient cause is the cause of the final cause inasmuch as it makes the final cause be, because by causing motion the efficient cause brings about the final cause. But the final cause is the cause of the efficient cause, not in the sense that it makes it be, but inasmuch as it is the reason for the causality of the efficient cause. For an efficient cause is a cause inasmuch as it acts, and it acts only because of the final cause. Hence, the efficient cause derives its causality from the final cause. . .19

Aquinas goes on to say that the final cause is not only the cause of the causality of the efficient cause but that it is also the cause of the causality of all the causes. For the efficient cause is the cause of the causality of the matter and the form. It is the agent that makes a certain form exist in matter. Thus, Phidias makes the form of Athene exist in stone. In so doing he causes that form as well as matter (the stone) to be causes of the statue. Assuming, then, the transitivity of the causal relation, if the final cause is the cause of the causality of the efficient cause and the efficient cause is the cause of the causality of the matter and form, then it follows that the final cause is the cause of all the causes.20 Hence the priority and centrality of final causation in the metaphysics of Aristotle and Aquinas.

TWO FURTHER OBJECTIONS Nevertheless, dissolving the foregoing alleged contradiction in this way occasions two more objections to the foregoing notion of final causation. First, it might be alleged that the belief that in nature effects pre-exist in their efficient causes is simply wrong. But that shows that the idea that final causation is required for efficient causation is false. For the idea of the pre-existence of

22

Chapter One

the effect in the efficient cause comes from making the latter subserve the final cause. True, the form of our generated paramecium p pre-exists in the generating paramecium m where it functions as plan. But this is far from being generally true. Thus, take the case of the fertilizing of a hen’s egg. Here, the actual efficient cause is the chicken sperm qua penetrating the egg. The effect, a chicken zygote, is, in the view of Aquinas, that for the sake of which the activity of the sperm occurs. The development of the zygote in turn has a further end, i.e. the mature chicken. Yet, that seems to compromise the Aristotelian account of the relation of final and efficient cause. For that assay stipulates that the likeness of the form of the effect pre-exists in the agent or efficient cause. But that is evidently untrue in this case. The form of the effect is that of a chicken zygote while the form of the agent is that of a chicken sperm. True, the zygote is potentially in the egg prior to the sperm’s activity. But the zygote does not pre-exist in the sperm. Or again, consider an acorn from which an oak sprouts. Here the final cause is the oak-shoot and the immediate moving or efficient cause is some change in the acorn. Yet the likeness of the form of oak, which is the form of the thing made, once again fails to pre-exist in the efficient cause or agent. Yet it would have to do so if, under the doctrine of the four causes, an efficient cause in nature is always directed by a final cause. How would Aristotle or Aquinas answer these prima facie counterexamples to the principle that, in nature as well as in art, the likeness of the effect pre-exists in the efficient cause? Second, one might challenge final causation with the following dilemma. Either a supposed final cause pre-exists the efficient cause or not. If it does, then it already exists and hence is not something toward the realization of which the efficient cause acts. If it does not, then it can hardly direct the activity of the efficient cause as end or goal. How would Aquinas answer these two objections?

REPLY TO THESE OBJECTIONS As to the first objection, Aquinas has an answer. It is that the principle must be interpreted more broadly. In nature as in art, a likeness of the thing to be made does always pre-exist in the agent. But it need not be a simple likeness of species. Instead, it might be a likeness of genus or, even more remotely, a likeness of analogy.21 It might also be a likeness of species inclusively speaking, i.e. in that the same species enters into the definition of both agent and effect. In the case of a paramecium, it is a simple likeness of species. By splitting m produces p. By a simple likeness, the species of p pre-exists in m. In the

Change and Its Causes

23

case of the chicken zygote, the likeness is one of genus. But it is also indirectly one of species. The likeness of the genus of chicken zygote, organism, does pre-exist in the chicken sperm. But the likeness is more than just generic. It is specific in an indirect, inclusive sense. For when you go to define what a chicken sperm is and what a chicken zygote is, you in each case bring in the idea of the species chicken as formal cause. It is like defining a necessary property of a species. You cannot do so without including that species in the definition.22 Thus, you cannot define acting morally responsibly without including in the definition the idea of a human being. Therefore, since it is the very same species i.e. the species chicken, that enters into the definition of the effect, chicken zygote, that also enters into the definition of the agent, chicken sperm, it follows that the likeness of effect to agent here is indirectly or inclusively specific. The form of the effect does pre-exist in the agent in the same way i.e. indirectly or by specific inclusion. A similar, but not exactly the same analysis holds for the acorn and the oakshoot. The specific form of the effect is the form of an oak. But since you cannot define what an acorn is without bringing in the idea of an oak, it follows that the specific form of the effect, i.e. oak, does pre-exist in the agent formally, i.e. by dint of entering into the latter’s definition. Therefore, the principle that the likeness of the effect pre-exists in the agent in nature as well as in art is not compromised by the supposed counter-examples. And since according to Aquinas that principle is required to preserve the primacy of final causes over efficient causes, it follows too that those same examples do nothing to challenge the latter. Yet this reply occasions an evident counter-reply. It is that this broader statement of the principle that effects pre-exist in their efficient causes is too anemic to satisfy the requirements of teleology. In terms of or example, let it be granted that the species chicken, which enters into the definition of the effect i.e. chicken zygote, also enters into the definition of the cause, i.e. chicken sperm. Loosely interpreted, the dictum that the likeness of the effect is found in the cause is then satisfied. But that likeness is too vague and indirect to satisfy the requirement of teleology. For the immediate end here is not a chicken but a chicken zygote. What is more, neither the form of chicken nor the form of chicken zygote pre-exists in the sperm. What, if anything, nature aims at here is a chicken zygote. So the form of chicken zygote must pre-exist in the sperm as goal or target if the priority of final to efficient causes in nature is to be defended. By analogy, since what Phidias aims at is the form of Athene, it is that very form and no other that pre-exists in Phidias. This objection is right on the mark. In fact, the only to answer it is to fall back on that distinction between actual efficient causes and their effects and potential efficient causes and their effects. For it seems that counterexamples to the

24

Chapter One

principle in question crop up only when it is the latter and not the former that is concerned. But in that case the objection in question misses the mark. To explain, instead of a chicken sperm and a chicken zygote, consider a chicken sperm qua fertilizing an egg and the egg qua being fertilized by the chicken sperm. This is a case of an actual efficient cause and its effect. But note that it is also a case in which the form of the effect, i.e. the fertilizing of the egg, straightforwardly pre-exists in the cause. Hence, it is possible that that form is the end or target of the cause just as the form of the completed Athene is Phidias’ end. True, the form of the effect pre-exists in the cause here in a logical and not in a temporal sense. For actual efficient causes are simultaneous with their effects. Still, the point is that a straightforwardly common element exists between the two. That, to repeat, is the fertilizing of the egg. That activity is found both in the effect and in the cause, just as the form of Athene is found both in the completed statue and in Phidias. It is just that it is what Aquinas calls “second form” i.e. activity and not “first form” or species. For Aquinas says that the thing in the effect that pre-exists in the efficient cause is not always a form by which he means a first form or species.23 In any case, the activity here, i.e. the fertilizing of the egg, is in the cause (the sperm) as that from which while it is in the effect (the egg) as that in which. Following Aristotle, Aquinas holds that this is true of all transient activity. Action and passion are always one motion or activity and not two. It is just that that one motion is in the cause in one way and in the effect in another.24 Teaching, for example, is in the teacher as in that from whom. But that very same action is also simultaneously in the student as in that in whom, i.e. as something received and not given. Thus, teaching and learning are but two names for the same thing. The different names just reflect the active and passive ways, respectively, in which it exists. That being the case, one can then say that, at least in the case of actual efficient causes and their effects in nature, the requirement of teleology is met. The effect does straightforwardly pre-exist in the efficient cause. Agreeing with Aristotle, Aquinas says, . . . For since action is the act of the agent . . . then if action and passion are one motion, it follows that the act of the agent is in some way in the patient, and thus the act of one thing will be in another . . . . He (Aristotle) says, therefore, first that it is not inconsistent for the act of one thing to be in another. For teaching is the act of the teacher, tending, nevertheless, from him to someone else continuously and without interruption. Hence, the same act is his, i.e. the agent’s, as ‘from whom,’ and also in the patient as received in him. However, it would be inconsistent if the act of one thing were in another in the way in which it is the act of the former.25

As for the second objection, Aristotle and Aquinas might answer it the same way they answer the foregoing objection that the notion of final causation is

Change and Its Causes

25

self-contradictory. They would distinguish final cause as a plan and final cause as completion or realization of a plan. The final cause does pre-exist the efficient cause. But that does not imply that, since it then already exists, it cannot be realized by the efficient cause. For it is before the efficient cause in one sense of ‘is’ and after the efficient cause in another sense of ‘is.’ As was said, while it is before the efficient cause as plan or possibility, it is after the efficient cause as realized plan or actuality. In the first case the ‘is’ is the ‘is’ of essence. But in the second case the ‘is’ is the ‘is’ of existence. When final cause is form as possibility or essence, it conditions the efficient cause; but when it is form as actuality or as existing, the efficient cause conditions it. From the fact that the efficient cause always depends on the final cause which is prior to it, it follows that every efficient cause taken as such resembles its effect. Thus, defenders of the doctrine of the four causes would contend that the idea, common to many philosophers, that effects resemble their causes, is based on the notion of final cause and more particularly on the priority of final to efficient causes. In any case, one might summarize the argument as follows. As an agent is so it acts. The activity that is proper to a thing, in other words, follows on its form. But the proper activity of a thing is its good or perfection. Thus, the good or perfection of a physician qua physician is healing. Hence, that activity of an agent or efficient cause that conforms to its being or form is that thing’s proper good or perfection. Thus, rational activity is the good or perfection of human beings. Moreover, the good or perfection of a thing is its end. For something is end to the extent that it is desirable and a thing is desirable to the extent that it is good. But the end of an efficient cause pre-exists in it. Otherwise it does not direct the efficient cause to the effect. But if y pre-exists (either naturally or intelligibly) in x as end, then x resembles y. Moreover, the end of any efficient cause is its effect. Thus, the end of a builder qua building, i.e. a house, is the effect of a builder qua building. It follows that every efficient cause taken as such resembles its effect.

A FINAL OBJECTION ANSWERED Shifting their ground, opponents of natural teleology would now fire their final salvo against invoking final causality to escape the dilemma of efficient causality. Ends, they will say, exist only in minds. Purpose is mind-dependent. Where something is aimed at there is some mind that aims at it. If, therefore, the forms of non-human agent-causes are ends to which the generating activities of those agents are oriented, then it must be those same agents that are aiming at those ends. But to think that they are is to succumb to anthropomorphism, to read human purpose into the behavior of non-cognitive agents. So while forms are ends for human agents, determining in advance the

26

Chapter One

actions of those agents, they are not ends for non-human agents and hence do not exist in those agents as final causes. Otherwise it should have to be countenanced that an agent-cause like our paramecium is endowed with a mind in which forms function as final causes of that agent’s behavior just as they do in human minds. In answer, Aquinas, for one, would agree that where a form is aimed at there is some mind behind the purpose. But he would deny that it follows from this that the behavior of non-human agents is purposeless. True, there is no mind in our agent-paramecium m that is conscious of the form of paramecium that exists in it as final cause of its activities. Generating paramecia are not human artists. Still, though there are surely exceptions, the generating or budding operations in paramecia regularly occur and new paramecia regularly follow those reproductive operations. That means that paramecia are inclined by their very natures to engage in activities of this sort which are conducive to their species. But that things in the physical world are naturally prone to generate their likenesses in things, Aquinas holds, can only be explained teleologically. It can only be traced to some directing mind which ordains each thing to its end.26 For the regularity with which natural things generate their likenesses cannot be explained either by chance or by efficient causation. To spell it out, the fact that new paramecia generally follow the budding activities of agent-paramecia is not due to chance. Otherwise it does not regularly happen. Nor are the two connected as efficient cause to its effect. For we saw that Aquinas views an acting efficient cause and its effect not as separate things but as the active and passive sides of the same thing. That being the case, where the one is so must be the other. Where Phidias is cutting Athene, Athene is being cut. Efficient causes and their effects are thus necessarily connected. But though new paramecia generally follow the reproducing activities of agent-paramecia, they evidently need not and in fact do not always do so. Here, Hume and the empiricists are correct. Surprises, intrusions, and interruptions can and do occur in nature. It seems that Aristotle and Aquinas would contend, then, that there is but one other alternative. The fact that new paramecia regularly follow the budding activities of existing ones is due to purpose. A new paramecium, taken as paramecium, is the natural end or goal of the budding of an existing paramecium. Quite generally, in and through their activities, individual members of a given species aim at their own species. The inclinations of species to engage in patterns of reproductive and other activity both spring from those species as formal causes and are oriented to those same species as final causes. In this way does causation in nature form a circle, though Aquinas would insist that it is a benign and not a vicious circle.

Change and Its Causes

27

No less than with human purpose, this natural purpose implies a mind that orders the actitvities to their ends. Ends are made to be ends, according to Aquinas, by mind. But the mind in this case is evidently not human. Phidias has Athene as his end and decides what activities will realize that end. But neither Phidias nor any other person makes a new paramecium qua paramecium the end of the budding activities of an agent-paramecium. We discover and do not make that relationship. And one way we discover it is by seeing that the fact that new paramecia regularly follow reproductive activities in agent-paramecia is unexplained by either chance or by efficient causation alone. The mind behind this natural purpose, Aquinas thinks, is God’s. Just as engineers program robots to make automobiles on an assembly line, so God programs living things to act for their own species. In both cases the regularity with which the results follow on the activities of the agents in question is unexplained by either blind chance or efficient causation. That either an automobile or some stage of its production regularly follows the repetitious activities of agent-robots is not due to chance. Nor is it due to mechanical causation. Where robots make, something is being made. Efficient cause and effect must accompany each other as two sides of a single process. Yet there is no guarantee that the automobile or some stage of its completion will follow those robotic activities. Unexpected events can break the cycle. So we say in this case that the robotic activity is due to design. But it is not active design but passive or imposed design. It is secondary, received, unconscious purpose and not that primary, unmeasured, conscious purpose that characterizes human actions. The analogy, of course, is inexact. Organisms like paramecia act for their own species while robots act not for that but for finished or unfinished products on an assembly line. Further, the end of an agent-organism’s activities pre-exists in the agent-organism while the form of the product does not preexist in the agent-robot. To improve the analogy, we might imagine a case in which robots are used to make other robots and not automobiles. Be that as it may, the point is that Aquinas would argue that natural events like the reproduction of paramecia can only be ascribed to purpose even though that purpose is, in the agents involved, imposed or unconscious purpose. This natural or secondary purpose is measured purpose as opposed to purpose that measures. Aquinas identifies the latter with eternal law in God’s mind and the former with the embodiment or instantiation of that law in things. Law, for Aquinas, is always a rule of activity by which things are directed to an end.27 It is primarily in mind and secondarily in things.28 Thus, the law of a State is primarily in the mind of the governor and secondarily in the conforming actions of citizens. Analogously, the rule or pattern of activity by which

28

Chapter One

new paramecia emerge out of existing paramecia is primarily in God as eternal law and secondarily in the conforming activities of existing paramecia. As eternal, the law of activity for paramecia has an end. That end exists intelligibly in God’s mind analogously to the way in which human ends exist intelligibly in human minds. As embodied, the same rule of activity for paramecia exists in individual paramecia. And there too it has an end. That end, as was said, is the very species of the acting paramecia. All living things act for their own species. The law of nature for a given organism, then, is just the sum-total of those activities to which that organism is naturally prone and which has the nature or species of that organism as its end. But since all law aims at an end and since end is properly speaking in mind, then all law is primarily in mind. What we call the law of a thing’s nature, then, is imposed, measured, and secondary law. It necessarily reflects the eternal law of that nature in God’s mind. The former is the law of a thing’s nature taken in re and the latter is the law of a thing’s nature taken ante rem. The reason why paramecia are naturally inclined to engage in operations that have their own species as their end is that that law is imposed on their natures by the eternal law in God’s mind. The law of nature for paramecia i.e. the pattern of activity whereby any paramecium is directed to its end, is first in God’s mind as measure and derivatively in created paramecia as something measured. The end toward which agent-paramecia are inclined, i.e. their own species, pre-exists in them naturally. That same end, together with the rule or law of activity that tends toward it, preexists in God’s mind intelligibly. It is, says Aquinas, the exemplar of God’s wisdom taken as law. The activities of non-rational things, therefore, tend toward an end that is unknown to them. They act, says Aquinas, “without knowing the causes, inasmuch as they are directed to their proper ends by a superior intellect.”29 They know neither their own ends nor the rules of activity or laws of their natures which serve that end. Even so, it can hardly be denied that they act for an end. True, activity that is oriented to an end implies knowledge of that end. Purpose, as was said, implies mind. But it does not imply knowledge of the end on the part of the agent. By analogy, young children in a large family often blindly follow the rules of the family. In so doing they tend toward their own end, happiness, in promoting, by their obedience, the end or good of the family as a whole. What the end of the family as a whole is, what their own ends are in relation to that larger end, and what patterns of action realize these ends are things about which these children are ignorant. Yet it cannot be denied that they act for an end i.e. the end of the head or lawmaker of the family, even though that end is both unknown to them and imposed on them.

Change and Its Causes

29

Once again, it is not just by chance that the good of the family as a whole follows their law-like action. Nor does that end follow their actions by mechanical necessity. Unexpected outside events might intervene to preempt the end. That the end of the family as a whole as well as that of the children normally follow the latter’s law-like actions is therefore due to purpose, the purpose of a wise head and lawmaker of the family. The obvious difference is that while the actions of the children flow from habit, the activities of brute animals and plants such as paramecia flow from nature.30 But habit and nature are alike in that they are each prone to a definite end, i.e. a certain kind of activity.

NOTES 1. Henri Bergson, An Introduction to Metaphysics, trans. T.E. Hulme, (Indianapolis: Bobbs-Merrill,1955), 28–30. 2. Aquinas, Summa contra gentiles, Book Two:Creation, trans. J.F. Anderson, (Garden City, NY.: Doubleday, 1955), 17 [4], 54. 3. Aquinas, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, trans. Blackwell, Spath and Thirlkel, (New Haven:Yale Univ. Press,1963), I.L.14:120–28, 57–61. 4. Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, trans. J.P. Rowan, (Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1961), I. L.9: C.138–40, 58–59. 5. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L.10: 78, 39; I.L. 12:101, 49. 6. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L.14: 124, 59. 7. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L.14: 124–25, 59–60. 8. Aristotle, Metaphysics, trans. W.D. Ross, in The Basic Works of Aristotle, ed. R. McKeon, (New York: Random House, 1941), 1045b 28–36, 818–19. 9. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L.14: 127, 60. 10. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L.14: 127, 60. 11. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, II, L.3: C. 305, 126. 12. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L.9: 64, 33. 13. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L. 15: 139, 65–66. 14. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, I. L.4: C.74, 31–2. 15. ———, Summa theologica, in Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas, trans. A. Pegis, (New York: The Modern Library, 1948), I q46 a2: reply obj.7, 256. 16. The following paragraphs use arguments which also appear in my “Is There Natural Purpose”? See International Philosophical Quarterly, June, 2008. 17. J.R. Preer, Jr., “Surface Antigens of Paramecium” in J.G. Gall, ed, The Molecular Biology of Ciliated Protozoa, (Orlando, Fla: The Academic Press, 1986), 303–4; I. B. Raikov, “The Macronucleus of Ciliates” in T. Chen, ed., Research in Protozoology, (New York: Pergamon Press, 1969), 32–44; Ralph Wichterman, The Biology of Paramicium, (New York: Blakiston, 1953), 254–58. 18. Aristotle, Physics, trans. R.P.Hardie and R.K.Gaye in R. McKeon, ed. The Basic Works of Aristotle (New York: Random House, 1941), 195a 9–11, 241.

30

Chapter One

19. Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, V.L.2: C. 775, 308. 20. ———,Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, V. L.3: C. 782, 311. 21. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writings of Saint Thomas AquinasI (New York: Random House, 1945), I q4 a3, 40–1; ———,Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, II.L.11: 242, 111–12; ———,Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, VII. L.6: C 1393, 531. 22. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, V. L.19: C.1055, 397. 23. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, II.L. 11: 242, 111. 24. ———,Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, III.L. 5: 315–16, 148. 25. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, III.L. 5: 315–16, 148. 26. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, I. L.15: C. 233, 96. 27. ———, Summa theologica, in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to Saint Thomas Aquinas (New York: Random House, 1948), I-II q93 a3, 632–33. 28. ———, Summa theologica I-II q90 a1: reply obj.1, 610. 29. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, I.L.1: C.28, 14. 30. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, I.L.1: C.28, 14.

Chapter Two

Being

THE SUBJECT-MATTER OF METAPHYSICS What is metaphysics? Aquinas’s answer is the same as Aristotle’s. It is the science of being as being. Since they evidently do not deal with non-being or nothing, all other sciences study being too. But unlike metaphysics they do so from some limited point of view. Thus, biology studies being insofar as it is living being and anthropology studies being insofar as it is human being. Every specialized science cuts off a certain area of being and studies that area and no other. By contrast, metaphysics does not cut off or focus on any one area of being as over against another. It deals with any and all being. That is because it makes no difference to metaphysics whether being is living or not living, human or not human. For its concern is with being just as being. This characterization of metaphysics as over against the other sciences invites two objections. First, it is objected that it assumes to begin with that metaphysics is a science along with biology and anthropology. But how can this be when metaphysics neither conducts experiments nor frames or tests hypotheses? Second, it is objected that the characterization implies that metaphysics studies everything in general and nothing in particular. But how is something a legitimate science that studies nothing in particular and everything in general? That sounds nonsensical. It is like saying that a zoologist studies animals but never any particular animal, neither horse, nor cow, nor dog, nor chicken, nor any other type of animal. Both objections are captious. In classifying metaphysics as a science Aquinas does not and could not have meant by ‘science’ what was later meant by it. Nor could he have meant by ‘science’ what is meant by it today. Aquinas lived three centuries before the birth of modern science in the Renaissance. By 31

32

Chapter Two

‘science’ he just means a body of knowledge that employs first principles. Thus, arithmetic and geometry are sciences in his view even though they involve neither experimentation nor the framing or testing of empirical hypotheses. As for the second objection, it feeds on the misconception that particular sciences study types or species of being, while metaphysics studies the genus being under which these species fall. But Aquinas denies in the first instance that being is a genus. Sciences other than metaphysics do not study types or species of being for the simple reason that being is not to begin with a genus. And because it is not, it is untrue to say that metaphysics is an empty (and hence pseudo) science since it studies nothing in particular and everything in general. True, there is a sense in which everything comes under the purview of metaphysics. But from this it follows that metaphysics studies everything in general and nothing in particular only if it is assumed that its object, being, is the widest genus. Aquinas points out the consequence of that assumption for metaphysics.1 It is the same consequence that was drawn by Parmenides. If there are many types or species of being, then, since difference is outside genus, something outside being is added to being to account for this diversity. But nothing can be understood as being added to being by which it is so diversified. Therefore, there are not many types or species of being but being is one. This argument feeds on the assumption that being is a genus. If it is, then of course no difference can be added to diversify being since outside of the genus being is nothing. It is then concluded that being is one and that all observed multiplicity is illusory. From this counterintuitive conclusion Parmenides would have been saved, says Aquinas, had he only realized that ‘being’ is a pros hen equivocal and not an univocal concept. With Aristotle it must be said that ‘being’ is said in many, though related, senses. But if that is so, being is no genus since any genus is univocal. Not being a genus to begin with, being is not the widest genus. So even though it is true that difference falls outside genus, we are not forced on that account to conclude that difference is illusory. That follows only if being is a genus and this it cannot be since it lacks univocity of sense. It cannot be said, then, that stones, apples, horses, human beings, God, etc. are types or species of being, as if all of them fall coordinately under the genus ‘being.’ It is not like the case of foxes, horses, dogs, wolves, etc. falling under the genus ‘animal.’ For ‘animal’ and all other genera have one sense and ‘being’ does not. Otherwise Parmenides is right and the differences among stones, apples, horses, human beings, God and other supposed types of being are eliminated.

HIERARCHY OF SPECULATIVE SCIENCES Metaphysics is the highest speculative science according to Aquinas. Why speculative and why highest? It is a speculative science because it aims at

Being

33

knowledge for its own sake and not at knowledge for the sake of action. In this it is like mathematics and unlike medicine. The latter is a practical science since its end is healing. Knowledge of medicine is for the sake of the specific activity of healing while knowledge of metaphysics or of mathematics is not for the sake of any activity above and beyond the knowledge itself. Thus, the distinction between a speculative and a practical science is that the former is knowledge for the sake of knowledge and the latter is knowledge for the sake of action. Moreover, metaphysics is the highest speculative science. That is because its principles are included in the objects of the two other speculative sciences, i.e. mathematics and physics (in Aristotle’s sense of ‘physics’). But the principles of the latter are not included in the objects of metaphysics. That means that metaphysics is logically prior to mathematics and physics. And according to Aquinas, if one thing is logically prior to another the former is higher or more fundamental than the other. To spell it out, physics studies mobile being. But since any mobile thing is both quantified and being, it includes not only those principles by which it is mobile but also those principles by which it is quantified and those principles by which it is being. For its part, mathematics studies quantified being. But since quantified being is being, it includes not only those principles by which it is quantified but also those principles by which it is being. Finally, metaphysics studies being period or being just as being. But since with Aristotle Aquinas holds there are beings that are neither mobile nor quantified, any being taken just as being does not include the principles of either mobile or of quantified being. So among the three speculative sciences there is a hierarchy. The highest is metaphysics since its objects depend on the fewest principles. To be being something need not be quantified or include matter. Next comes mathematics the objects of which include quantity together with the principles of being as such. To be a number something need not and does not include sensible matter. But it must include quantity as well as the principles of being as such. Finally, there is physics whose object is being as changeable. Since a changing thing is a fortiori both quantified and a being, it on that account includes not only primal matter, the principle of change, but also quantity, the principle by which it is numerically one thing, as well as essence and existence, by which it is being. Therefore, physics assumes the most principles. For that reason it is the least exact and elegant of the three speculative sciences. The more exact and elegant a science the fewer are its principles. That is why, in mathematics, arithmetic is more exact and elegant than geometry. The latter include the principles of the former but not vice versa. The idea of a point includes the idea of a unit but not the other way around. But the three speculative sciences are hierarchically ordered not only on the basis of their relative simplicity. They are also so ordered, says Aquinas, according to the order of the abstraction from matter.2 But the two aspects, relative simplicity and relative abstraction from matter, go hand in hand. The

34

Chapter Two

simpler a speculative science is (i.e. simpler in the sense of its employing the fewest principles), the less dependent are its objects on matter. And the less simple a speculative science is, the more dependent it is on matter. That means that metaphysics is the most independent of matter and physics is the least independent of matter. In between is mathematics whose objects are conceptually dependent on matter in the sense of quantity (either discrete or continuous) but conceptually independent of matter in the sense of sensible matter. The objects of the lowest speculative science, physics, can neither exist nor be defined without matter. A stone or a tree is evidently can neither exist nor be defined without matter. A notch above these changing objects are the objects of mathematics. Like stones and trees, numbers and geometrical figures such as triangles and circles cannot really exist without matter. In this, Aquinas follows Aristotle who denied Plato’s separation of mathematical entities. But unlike stones and trees, numbers and geometrical figures can be defined without matter. When you define a stone you must include sensible matter in the definition. Not so when you define a triangle. Finally, the objects of the highest speculative science, metaphysics, do not necessarily depend on matter either for their existence or for their definition. Either they are never found in matter, says Aquinas (he mentions God and angels as examples), or else they are sometimes found in matter and sometimes not. Among the latter notions are being, substance, actuality and potentiality.

SENSES OF ‘BEING’ St. Thomas follows Aristotle in holding that ‘being’ is said in many senses. Even though he is no essentialist, Aquinas insists that in one sense ‘being’ means essence. Essence primarily signifies being in the sense of what something is. What something is is called by different names depending on the point of view from which it is considered. What something is is called essence (essentia) from the standpoint of its relation to existence (esse) by which it is actualized. For that reason, essence conveys something potential, i.e. potential to existence. What something is is also called quiddity by Aquinas when it is viewed as the basis of a thing’s definition. Third, what something is is called nature when it is considered as being the source of a thing’s operations and activities. When it is said that the proper operations and activities of honey-bees spring from what they are, ‘what they are’ here has the sense of ‘nature.’ Fourth, what something is is called form when it is viewed as determining or specifying matter. Fifth, what something is is called species when it is viewed as being the ground of a concept of it in the mind. Just as matter is the ground of the logical intention of genus and form is the

Being

35

ground of the logical intention of difference, so the composite of matter and form is the ground of the logical intention of species.3 Aquinas contrasts what something is (essence) with at least three other senses of ‘being.’ These are, whether something is (existence), how something is modified by attributes and affections (accident) and the subject of such modification (substance). Being in the sense of essence is properly signified by predication by species, as when it is said that Socrates is human. Being in the same sense of essence, says Aquinas, is taken from being in the sense of a thing, i.e. being as a composite of both essence and existence.4 By this he does not mean that the composite is logically prior to essence but that it is prior to essence in the order of knowledge. It is a cardinal tenet of Aquinas’s epistemology that what we first know are conglomerate wholes, the elements of which we later discern by analysis. In this, he again follows Aristotle. These wholes are composites of essence and existence both and they are identified with primary substances. The word ‘primary’ is used here in order to distinguish these concrete composites of essence and existence from secondary substances. The latter are identified by Aquinas, as they are by Aristotle, with essences in the strict sense, namely, what is signified by species. Being, then, now signifies essence, now existence, and now the composite of essence and existence both. Of these three senses, which one is logically prior as opposed to being prior in the order of our knowledge? To this, Aquinas does not hesitate to answer that it is being in the sense of existence. Since the simple is logically or metaphysically prior to the composite, being in the sense of the composite of essence and existence cannot be the primary sense of ‘being’ even though it is first in the order of our knowledge. Nor is essence the primary sense of ‘being.’ For essence is related to existence as potentiality to actuality and actuality is always prior to potentiality. Aquinas says that any determinate form or essence is known to exist actually only by the fact that it is held to be.5 Esse, he there says, is the actuality of all acts and therefore the perfection of all perfections.

AN OBJECTION ANSWERED But here a problem surfaces. For Aquinas affirms Aristotle’s view that ‘being’ is primarily said only of substance.6 Everything else is called being only by reference to substance. But by ‘substance’ here it is meant primary substance and this is always a composite of essence and existence both. And so the question becomes one of consistency. How does St. Thomas consistently both affirm this Aristotelian thesis and also say that ‘being’ is primarily existence and not either essence or the composite of essence and existence?

36

Chapter Two

The answer to this turns on distinguishing the sense and referent of ‘being.’ For when Aquinas agrees with Aristotle that ‘being’ primarily applies to substance and that all else is called being only by reference to substance, it is the referent of ‘being’ that is concerned. But this is quite compatible with saying that the primary sense of ‘being’ is existence and not either essence or the composite of essence and existence. ‘Being’ primarily means existence but the primary referent of ‘being’ is substance. That is because to be or to exist has its fullest and most perfect expression in substance as opposed to accident. And this, in turn, is due to the independence of substance as over against the dependence of accident. For substance is not present in another the way in which accident is present in substance. The apple in my hand is, of course, present in something. It is present in my hand. But it is not in my hand in the same sense of ‘in’ that the redness of the apple is in the apple. Thus, the apple is said to be or exist in a more complete and independent sense than its redness is said to be or exist. St. Thomas would carry this further. For even among substances, some exist more independently than others. Because matter enters into their definitions, some substances depend on matter to be while others do not. So the latter are more simple and hence more independent than the former. For what is composite depends on that of which it is composed. To the extent that immaterial substances are more independent than material substances, therefore, the former have a higher mode of being (esse) than the latter. Since matter is the principle of individuation within a species, all and only immaterial substances are identical with their own essences. Further, even among material substances which are unidentical with their essences, a hierarchy of esse obtains. For esse in some of these actualizes higher potentialities than it does in others. A dog, for example, is capable of feeling and sensation while a stone is not. So the esse that actualizes a dog is higher than that which actualizes a stone. Finally, there is a hierarchy of esse among immaterial substances too. For while all of these are identified with their own essences, some of them are not their own esse while another one is. And since the one that is its own esse, i.e. God, is to that extent simpler than those that are not their own esse, the former is substance in an even more independent sense than the latter. So esse in God is higher than esse in all other substances, even those that, because they are immaterial, are identified with their own essences. In sum and broadly speaking, even among substances there is a hierarchy of esse. On the lowest rung of the ladder of being are those substances that are neither their own essence nor their own being (esse). These are all of them material substances and they comprise the overwhelming majority of substances. A notch above these are substances which, while they are not their

Being

37

own being (esse) are nonetheless their own essence. And finally, at the top of this ladder of being is substance that is both its own essence and its own being (esse). All of this means that among various substances esse is found analogously and not univocally. Esse in a stone is not the same as nor is it totally different from esse in a human being. For its part, esse in a human being is not the same as nor is it totally different from esse in an angel or in God.

DIVISIONS OF BEING When ‘being’ encompasses both essence and existence, five divisions of being are found in Aquinas. First, when the principle of division is whether being is in one category or two, being divides into essential being (ens per se) and accidental being (ens per accidens).7 Second, when the principle of division is whether being is mind-dependent or not, being divides into real being and being of reason.8 Third, when the principle of division is whether real being is dependent or independent, being divides into accident and substance.9 Fourth, when the principle of division is whether being is categorial or propositional, being divides into being as either substance or accident and being in the sense of the true.10 And fifth, when the principle of division is whether something is form or the possibility of form, being divides into actual and potential being.11 These divisions overlap and are not intended by Aquinas to be mutually exclusive. For example, the division between substance and accident is a subset of real being. So too is the division between essential and accidental being. And categorial being and being as actuality and potentiality are both of them subsets of essential being. Of these five divisions the one between real being and being of reason is the broadest or most basic. Real beings are those that are independent of minds while beings of reason are beings that are mind-dependent. Under real being are included three subdivisions: essential and accidental being, actual and potential being and generation and corruption. Included under being of reason are: chimeras, logical intentions, privations, and negations. In the first chapter of On Being and Essence Aquinas states that one sense of ‘being’ is being as divided into the ten categories of Aristotle. And from his Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, it is clear that he does not equate being in this sense with essential being (ens per se).12 For essential being is wider than categorial being since it divides into the ten categories and into actual and potential being. The ten categories to which he refers, of course, are those of Aristotle. These categories are: substance, quantity, quality, relation, activity, passivity, position, time, place and dress. He contrasts

38

Chapter Two

being in the sense of the ten categories (categorial being) with being in the sense of the true. As logical being, the latter falls under the heading of being of reason. Being in the sense of the true is propositional being. It is the being that is expressed by the copula ‘is’ in any true judgment. While all essential being is real being, not all real being is essential being. For Aquinas counts change, whether it is generation or corruption, as real being even though it does not fall under essential being. As for potential and actual being, to the extent that they transcend the categories they may be called trans-categorial or transcendental being. For any one of the ten categories may be said to be either actually or potentially. Thus, being in the sense of actuality and potentiality is more common than categorial being. Take, for example, the category of quality. The oak leaf I now see has the quality of actually being green. But it is at the same time potentially brown. Further, the oak leaf itself is actually an oak leaf but it is potentially nothing but dust. It will actually become dust when it drops from the tree and disintegrates. Moreover, Aquinas states that beings of reason as well as real beings can be either actual or potential.13 In particular, he mentions privations and knowledge. As for the former, an example is blindness. One person might be actually sighted but potentially blind while another person might be actually blind but potentially sighted. As for knowledge, a person might potentially have a concept that is later actualized in the person. Thus, a toddler potentially has the concept of right and wrong but later on, upon reaching the age of reason, comes to have that concept actually. In the first chapter of On Being and Essence Aquinas states that being in the sense of the true is wider than categorial being. Being taken in the latter sense is included in being taken in the former sense but not vice versa. The reason is that anything that belongs to one of the ten categories might be the subject of a true proposition. Thus, I can say that Socrates is wise or that green is a color. But not everything that is or can be the subject of a true proposition is real being. Hence not everything that is or can be the subject of a true proposition belongs to one of the ten categories. Aquinas’s example is the true proposition, “Blindness is.” Blindness, says Aquinas, is not something real but the lack of something real. It is the lack of something real in a subject in which it naturally ought to be. This is what he calls a privation and privations are in his view beings of reason and not real beings. Nonetheless, though blindness has no real being, it does have propositional being or being in the sense of the true. For it is truly said that blindness is in the eye. In other words, because blindness can be a term in the relation of combining and separating that the mind makes when it judges, blindness has propositional being. Other privations include falsity, evil, lameness, and deafness. They de-

Being

39

pend on our minds to be. Other beings of reason are chimeras (imaginary beings) and negations. Thus, a centaur is an imaginary being and non-being is a negation. With respect to the latter, Aquinas says that the fact that we can say that non-being is non-being implies that non-being in some sense is.14 A negation like non-being has being in the sense that the mind conjures it up as it makes a true affirmative proposition about it. Non-being is only in the sense that it is something about which a true proposition is made. Here it may be objected that in counting non-being as being, i.e. as mental being, St. Thomas goes too far. True, we have concepts of chimeras such as centaurs and mermaids. But do we also have a concept of non-being? Aquinas says that we do since we can judge that non-being is non-being and all judgments have a subject-concept. It may be countered that just because ‘non-being’ is the grammatical subject of ‘Non-being is non-being,’ it does not follow that behind the grammatical subject is a logical subject, namely, the concept non-being. Some would deny there is any concept corresponding to the word. But Aquinas would insist that there is. In addition to accidents and privations, which are beings in an extended sense, non-being too is being in an extended sense. Accidents are called being only because they are present in and hence dependent on being (substance) and privations are called being only because they are the lack of something that naturally ought to be in a being or substance. By the same token, non-being is called being only because it is the absence of being or substance. Hence, though the word ‘non-being’ evidently lacks reference, it nonetheless has sense. And the sense it has is the one we give to it and which is in our minds, namely, the idea of the lack of substance. But this implies that there is a concept behind the word ‘non-being’ after all, that behind the grammatical subject in ‘Non-being is non-being’ is a logical subject. At least, so Aquinas would argue.

A PROBLEM OF CONSISTENCY If propositional being is anything about which a true proposition can be made, it is easy to see how Aquinas holds that being in this sense is wider than categorial being. For we can make negations, privations, chimeras and logical intentions the subjects of true propositions just as we can make the ten categories the subjects of true propositions. But right here a problem surfaces. For Aquinas states that being in the sense of the true depends on the mind’s combining and separating concepts in a judgment.15 But how, if being in this sense is psychological, can it include categorial being? For the ten categories are real and not psychological being. But it must include categorial being if, as

40

Chapter Two

Aquinas says, being in the sense of the true is wider than categorial being. Succinctly, these two Thomist theses seem to be prima facie inconsistent: 1 Being in the sense of the true is anything about which a true proposition is made. 2 Being in the sense of the true depends on the mind’s combining and separating. How is 1 consistent with 2 when 1 is a genus under which fall both real being and beings of reason? For 2 states that being in the sense of the true is psychological and not real. And then, unacceptably, something psychological includes as a subset something real. To block this objection, Aquinas would answer that it feeds on imprecision in the statement of 1. No contradiction results when 1 is (correctly) rewritten as, 1’ Being in the sense of the true is anything that is subject of a true proposition. For Aquinas, subjects and predicates are logical as opposed to real beings. As such they are beings of reason. 1’ is therefore perfectly consistent with 2. For in 1’ ‘subject’ is a genus which includes two species. Subjects may refer to beings of reason (as in ‘Blindness is in the eye’) or essential (real) being (as in ‘This tree is an oak’). In 1’ and 2, therefore, it is not the case that something psychological is said to include something real as a subset. For subjects that refer to real beings are not themselves real beings. They are beings of reason.

BEING AS THE TRUE GROUNDED ON REAL BEING St. Thomas states that being in the sense of the true is related to real being as effect to cause. For it is because something is in reality that a proposition is true.16 ‘Grass is green’ is true only because grass is green. There is a real combination or separation on which the logical combination or separation in judgment is based. For example, the logical combination in a predication by species such as ‘Socrates is human’ is caused by the real combination of matter and the form or essence humanity. Again, the logical combination in a predication by accident such as ‘Socrates is seated’ is based on the real combination of substance and accident. While this dependence of logical combination and separation on real combination and separation is evidently true for the most part, it is difficult to see how it is true in the case of propositions about privations and negations. If privations and negations (not to mention imaginary things) are not to begin with

Being

41

real beings, how is a true proposition about them the effect of any real being or state of affairs? In answer, it might be argued that Aquinas consistently has it both ways by both identifying the bearers of ‘true’ with sentences used assertively and using ‘real being’ to cover both non-mental and mental facts. The truth of the statement, ‘Grass is green’ is then the effect of the non-mental fact that grass is green and the truth of the statement, ‘Unicorns have a single horn on their foreheads’ is then also the effect of something real (i.e. non-linguistic), namely, the mental or fictional fact that unicorns have a single horn on their foreheads. But this way out conflicts not only with Aquinas’s repeated contrast of the real with the psychological but also with his identification of truth-bearers with (mental) judgments as opposed to sentences. For Aquinas, as for Locke four centuries later, a sentence or statement is true only because it is the sign of a true judgment. Thus, Aquinas states that it is the judgment behind the sentence or statement and not the sentence or statement itself that is primarily true.17 Whether he has an answer to this problem or not, it is clear that the difference between real being and being of reason is that the latter does while the former does not depend on minds. That is why Aquinas states that only being in the former sense belongs to metaphysics.18 For metaphysics deals with the real as opposed to the psychological. Since the cause of the latter is mind or some state of mind, being in this sense, i.e. being in the sense of being of reason, belongs to that science that studies mind or intellect. Presumably, Aquinas has psychology in mind though he also includes logic. For he says that logic deals with second intentions such as genus, species, syllogisms, etc. and second intentions are beings of reason in his view.19

PRIMARY AND SECONDARY BEING However, within real being some things are called being in a primary sense and others are called being in a secondary sense. Only actual being that is substance is being in the primary sense of ‘being.’ Anything else that is called being is so called in a qualified sense. In this Aquinas is one with Aristotle. By ‘substance’ here Aquinas means a concrete individual thing such as this tree. It is that which is neither present in nor predicable of anything but that of which other things are predicable and in which other things are present. All potential being and all actual being that is not substance is being in an extended sense of ‘being.’ The latter includes all actual accidents as well as all actual change, be it generation or corruption. Thus a quality is called being

42

Chapter Two

only because it is the modification of a substance and generation is called being only because it is on its way to a substance, and so on. Aquinas says that this priority of substance to accident is reflected in language.20 When a thing comes to be white we do not say that it comes to be in an unqualified sense. Rather do we say that it begins to be white. By contrast, when Socrates begins to be human he is said to begin to be in an unqualified sense. This linguistic difference mirrors the real order in which a substance like a human being has being in an unqualified sense while an accident like white has being only in a qualified sense.

ESSENTIAL VERSUS ACCIDENTAL BEING It was stated that Aquinas includes being that is either substance or accident under essential being. Essential being (ens per se) he contrasts with accidental being (ens per accidens). This is different from the distinction between substance and accident. This is evident from the fact that Aquinas includes the nine accidents under essential being. The division of being into essential and accidental being refers, respectively, to being in one category only and being as combined of elements from different categories. The former is substance or some accident considered just in themselves. The latter has three species: 1) the combination of two accidents. For example, such a combination is referred to by the statement, ‘The just is musical’; 2) the combination of substance and accident. This combination is referred to by the statement, ‘The man is musical’; 3) the combination of accident and substance. This is referred to by the statement, ‘The musician is a man.’

BEING AS A SUBSTANTIAL OR ACCIDENTAL PREDICATE To recur to categorial as opposed to propositional being, Aquinas says further that being taken in the first sense is a substantial predicate and pertains to the question of what a thing is.21 But taken in the second sense being is an accidental predicate and pertains to the question of whether a thing is. Part of what he means by saying that being in the second sense is an accidental predicate is that it is accidental to any real being that some property is truly affirmed of it in thought or in speech. For example, suppose Socrates is wise. Then it is accidental to Socrates that someone judges or says that he is wise. But Aquinas means more than this by saying that being in the second sense is accidental. He thinks that propositional being signifies existence or the fact that something is the case. Since it is facticity or

Being

43

existence that makes a proposition true, being in the sense of the true signifies existence. But since existence is outside the essence of a thing and since anything that is outside the essence of a thing might in a broad sense of ‘accidental’ be said to be accidental to it (since, narrowly speaking, being an accident applies only within essence or essential being), it follows that existence is accidental to the essence of any creature. It is neither genus nor difference. Since it is participated in by any creature but is not from the latter’s essence, existence is external to any creature’s essence. It also follows that the question of whether a thing is must be distinguished from the question of what it is.

TWO KINDS OF PARTICIPATION Speaking of the relation of participation, St. Thomas distinguished two kinds, neither one of which is the same as the Platonic notion of participation.22 The first is the one just mentioned. All creatures participate in being in the sense of esse. Here, what is participated in, being, is to what participates in it, creatures, as act is to potentiality. But what is participated in, being, does not enter into the definition of what participates in it. All creatures are contingent beings and existence is accidental to such beings. The second is the participation of something in what does belong to its definition. Thus, the species human participates in the genus animal. Here, what is participated in, being in the sense of essence, is to what participates in it either as act is to potentiality or as potentiality is to act. As for the former, individual humans participate in the difference rational. As for the latter, the species human participates in the genus animal. But in both cases what is participated in is not a different kind of thing that is altogether separated from what participates in it. And that is why Aquinas’s notion of participation is Aristotelian and not Platonic.

CATEGORIAL BEING AS A SUBSTANTIAL PREDICATE What Aquinas means by saying that categorial being is a substantial predicate is that being in that sense signifies not a subject’s act of existence (esse) but rather its essence. Thus, suppose that it is said that x is a substance or that y is a quality or that z is a relation. Here, ‘is a substance,’ ‘is a quality’ and ‘is a relation’ signify the what or essence of the subject in each case. Being a substance is what x (substantially) is, being a quality is what y (substantially) is and being a relation is what z (substantially) is. None of these predications are

44

Chapter Two

accidental. Being in this sense divides into the ten categories and expresses essence as opposed to existence. Moreover, essence is not predicated univocally of substance and accident. That is because (1) ‘being’ is not predicated univocally of substance and accident and (2) ‘essence’ is taken from ‘being’ in this same first sense of ‘being.’ The latter is true because, otherwise, things like negations and chimeras have an essence. Substance is being and has essence in an unqualified sense but an accident is being and has essence only in a qualified sense. That means that in the two preceding statements, ‘x is a substance’ and ‘y is a quality’ the copula ‘is’ is not used univocally. It expresses unqualified being and essence in the first case but qualified being and essence in the second case. From this it comes as no surprise that by the essence of a thing a Aquinas means the proper answer that is given to the question of what a is where a is the name of some individual substance. But since the proper answer to asking what a thing is is a definition and definition comprises both genus and difference, it follows that species alone signifies essence. For only species is defined since only species comprises both genus and difference. In other words, for something to have an essence is for it to be some specific thing, say a horse or a toad or a tree. So those things that do not signify a specific thing do not have an essence, at least in the strict sense of the word. But to be some specific or definite thing belongs to substance alone. For accidents are not some specific or definite thing but how some specific or definite thing is. Thus, white is not a specific thing but how some specific thing is. Thus, we say how some specific thing such as a horse is when we say that it is white. But we do not say how a specific thing is when we say that it is a horse. We only say that it is some specific or definite thing. So, while a thing like a horse has an essence, an accident like white does not. Stated differently, any accident is said to have essence only in a derived sense, i.e. only because it is related to something that properly speaking has essence, namely, a substance. And that relation is one of dependence since, to be, an accident must be in a substance.

AN APPARENT INCONSISTENCY REMOVED But here an apparent inconsistency surfaces. If essence is being some specific thing as opposed to how some specific thing is disposed or characterized, it seems that ‘being a mermaid’ or ‘being a centaur’ signifies an essence. For to say that something is a mermaid or a centaur is to say what something specifically is. It is not to say how some specific thing is, as, for example, we say

Being

45

how a mermaid is when we say a mermaid is seated. But on the other hand, Aquinas denies that entia rationis such as chimeras, negations, and privations either are or have an essence.23 For that reason, he there says, essence is not taken from being in the sense of propositional being but from being in the sense of categorial being. For negations, privations, chimeras and the like are being in the sense of the true (propositional being). So it looks as if Aquinas says both that chimeras such as mermaids and centaurs have essence since they are specific things and do not have essence since they are beings of reason only and not real beings. This contradiction is apparent and not real. Moreover, to resolve it brings out the priority in Aquinas of existence to essence. True, in ‘d is a mermaid’ or ‘c is a centaur’ the predicate in each case signifies that the subject is a specific thing. It does not signify how some specific thing is further characterized as in, say, ‘This mermaid is seated.’ But that is quite compatible with denying that ‘being a mermaid’ or ‘being a centaur’ signifies an essence. For when Aquinas states that for something to have an essence is for it to be some specific or definite thing, the word ‘something’ here refers to a real substance and not to some imaginary or psychological being. ‘Something’ here refers to what in Aristotle is called first or primary substance. Thus, since real existence is a precondition of something’s having an essence in Aquinas’s view— at least of its having essence in the strict sense—it follows that existence is prior to essence. When he says at the start of chapter one of On Being and Essence that essence in taken from being, ‘being’ here refers to existing substances like this tree or that stone. As for the difference between categorial and propositional being, much of what Aquinas says can be put this way. In expressions such as ‘being human,’ ‘being wise,’ ‘being six feet tall,’ ‘being asleep,’ etc., ‘being’ expresses categorial being. For the fact that there is no subject-term here (since there is no judgment) signifies that it is only the predicate that is concerned. But predicates signify what something is or how something that has a what or species is further determined. All this is in the order of essence, either ‘essence’ in the strict sense or ‘essence’ in a derived sense. But by contrast, in expressions such as, ‘Socrates is human,’ ‘Socrates is wise,’ etc., being, expressed by the copula ‘is,’ takes on an additional function. For here it is facticity or existence that is concerned and not just essence. The ‘is’ signifies the fact that there is an individual that satisfies the properties of being human and wise. Here, the predicate is separated off from the subject only for the purpose of being joined to it by the copula. And it is just here as copula in a judgment that ‘is’ signifies being in the sense of existence. Judgment is the mind’s way of signifying facticity or existence.

46

Chapter Two

IMPLICATIONS FOR LOGIC All this has implications for the question of existential import in logic. If true judgments and the statements that express them signify being in the sense of existence, then every true judgment and statement has existential import. So unlike what is the case in modern logic, true universal statements have existential import according to St. Thomas. That means that all the relations on Aristotle’s celebrated “square of opposition” remain intact. Since the universal affirmative, ‘All men are mortal’ has existential import then it implies the particular statement, ‘Some men are mortal.’ By the same token, since the universal negative statement, ‘No crows are white’ has existential import then it implies the particular negative statement, ‘Some crows are not white.’ As for true statements whose grammatical subjects do not refer to real things such as, ‘Some mermaids are females’ and ‘All mermaids are females,’ Aquinas would say that even they have existential import. It is just that the mode of existence to which they refer is psychological and not real. In the domain of entia rationis there are such things as mermaids. It is just that ‘are’ here signifies existence in an extended sense. Mermaids are only because they are made up of things that are, namely, women and fish. And centaurs are only because we make them up of things that are, namely, horses and men. Finally, as regards a sentence that has a contradictory subject-term such as ‘Round-squares are round,’ Aquinas would deny that there is either a judgment or statement corresponding to the sentence. For since one cannot in the first instance form a concept of a round square, then a fortiori one cannot make a judgment that has as its subject the concept of round square. But since truth belongs primarily to judgments in his view, it follows that the sentence, ‘Round-squares are round’ cannot be said to be either true or false. Where there is no judgment behind a sentence there is no truth or falsity in the sentence. For sentences are called true only because the judgments they express are true.

THE THREAT OF PSYCHOLOGISM But right here it might be objected that Aquinas succumbs to what since Husserl has been called the error of psychologism. If the primary bearers of ‘true’ are neither sentences, statements nor timeless propositions but rather mental judgments, then is not St. Thomas guilty of predicating ‘true’ of mental acts of a kind? And to do this is surely to fall into psychologism. In reply, Aquinas would point out that it is not the act of judging that is true in his view but rather the result of that act. And the latter is identified with the

Being

47

relation of predicate to subject that the mind makes when it judges that something is the case. Still, the objection of psychologism might persist. For this relation of predicate to subject is no real relation but a mental relation, a relation of reason. And this Aquinas himself underscores when he says that, though they have a foundation in reality when they are true, the combining and separating in which judgment consists is the work of mind. So are all logical entities which, as second intentions, fall under beings of reason. Nevertheless, to silence the objection finally, Aquinas would answer that it is not just the relation of predicate to subject that is true but the complex of that relation together with the state of affairs it signifies that is true. When I judge that grass is green I relate two concepts, a predicate to a subject, and this is surely a mental relation. But at the same time, something is intended by that mental relation. And that is the objective state of affairs of grass being green. So it is not the bare mental relating of subject and predicate that is true but rather the complex of that relating and what is related by it. To use an Aristotelian analogy, the relating is the form and the objective state of affairs that is related by it is the matter or content of the relation. And it is neither the one nor the other that is the bearer of ‘true’ but rather the composite of both. But psychologism consists in predicating ‘true’ solely of the form, i.e. of the mental side of this complex. One commits the error of psychologism when one predicates ‘true’ of the act of judging taken apart from what is judged or the content or matter of judgment.

THE ESSENCE-EXISTENCE DISTINCTION AND EPISTEMOLOGY The distinction between essence and existence is not only shown by the distinction between categorial and propositional being. It is also required, Aquinas would say, by epistemology. In particular, St. Thomas sees the distinction as necessary to avoid skepticism. Here, Aquinas reminds one of Kant. It is not just that Kant and he both fault the ontological argument for God’s existence for blurring the distinction between essence and existence. In addition, they both view the obliteration of the distinction as implying skepticism. Along these lines, one of Kant’s arguments in the Critique of Pure Reason for distinguishing essence and existence is close to Aquinas’s argument to that same effect.24 In the latter Aquinas argues that one adequately knows what a phoenix is even though one does not know whether there are phoenixes. A more modern example might be that of an endangered species, say, the condor. An ornithologist knows what a condor is even though he does not know whether there are condors. But this would be false if existence is counted as

48

Chapter Two

a property of condors. Besides, suppose that as a matter of fact the last few condors ceased to be just when they were being thought about by the ornithologist. Then, if existence is a property of condors, then his idea (not image) of a condor is not the same now as it was a moment ago when the condors were still living. But as evidenced by the fact that our ornithologist would define the bird the same way each time, this is simply false. Not only that, but if existence is a property of phoenixes or condors, then neither the knowledge of what a phoenix is in Aquinas’s example nor the ornithologist’s knowledge of what a condor is in our own example would really be knowledge of phoenixes and condors after all. For the concept of a phoenix or condor would then fail to correspond to its object. Kant makes a similar point. If existence is a property of a thing, he says, then we must accept a universal skepticism as regards all our concepts.25 For our concept of anything whatsoever would then always lack a property, i.e. existence, that is found in the object. If existence is to be counted among a thing’s properties, then, says Kant, . . .” it would not be exactly the same thing that exists, but something more than we had thought in the concept; and we could not, therefore, say that the exact object of my concept exists.”26 Either, therefore, existence must be distinguished from essence or a universal skepticism as regards our concepts must be countenanced. With this argument of Kant’s Aquinas would concur. Alternatively, the independence of knowing what a thing is and knowing that it is may be linked to the notions of essence, species and definition in Aquinas. And when it is, the following argument can be framed. Essence is what the definition signifies. But since definition is equivalent to species, essence is what the species signifies. But to be or exist is not what the species signifies. Otherwise, since species signifies what something is, to know what something is is to know that it is. But as was shown in the foregoing example of the ornithologist, that is patently false. It follows that essence is not existence.

METAPHYSICAL ARGUMENTS More frequently, though, Aquinas’s arguments for the real distinction of essence and existence are drawn from metaphysics itself rather than from either logic or epistemology. In particular, they often rest on the distinction between potentiality and actuality. Thus, in Summa contra gentiles27 he argues as follows. Every participator is related to that in which it participates as potentiality to actuality. But every kind of thing that shares existence with other things is a participator with respect to existence which is participated in by

Being

49

those various kinds of things. Thus, since horses, trees and toads share existence with other kinds of thing, they are participators in existence. And existence, for its part, is participated in by them. Therefore, any kind of thing that shares existence with other things is related to existence as potentiality to actuality. But since this implies that existence is actuality and essence is potentiality and further, since actuality is not potentiality, it follows that existence is not essence. Using this same distinction of actuality and potentiality in the context of generation, Aquinas would also argue as follows. When a substance comes to be, some species or kind of thing is actualized. But the species of a substance is its essence. Therefore, when a substance comes to be some essence is actualized. But anything that is actualized stands to what actualizes it as potentiality to actuality. Therefore, essence stands to existence as potentiality to actuality. But then, a fortiori, essence and existence are distinct in any substance.

ESSENTIAL AND ACCIDENTAL PREDICATES To recur to categorial being, it was stated that this divides into substance and accident. But accidents are divided by Aquinas in a twofold way. According to what they are just in themselves, accidents divide into the nine kinds that were previously specified. But according to how they are related to substance, accidents divide into two kinds, necessary and contingent. Aquinas sometimes calls the former properties, reserving the name ‘accident’ just for the latter. As regards the latter division and as is indicated by the words ‘necessary’ and ‘contingent,’ the difference is that a necessary accident or property is one that must belong to the subject while a contingent accident is one that need not belong to it. For example, risibility necessarily belongs to a human being but whiteness does not. All humans are capable of laughing but not all humans are white. Since all accidental predicates, whether necessary or contingent, are outside the essence of the subject, no accidental predicate is an essential predicate. Thus, even though it necessarily belongs to the subject, a necessary accident does not enter into the definition of the subject. With respect to the subject it is neither genus, difference nor species. In the language of Kant, it does not, when joined to its subject, result in an analytic judgment. It would be correct to say that such a judgment is a synthetic a priori judgment only if ‘a priori’ here means ‘necessary.’ But if ‘a priori’ means ‘does not arise from experience’ Aquinas would deny that judgments such as “Humans are risible’

50

Chapter Two

is an a priori judgment. For on the question of the origin of our knowledge Aquinas sides with empiricism as over against rationalism. Finally in this connection, St. Thomas contrasts essential predicates, accidental necessary predicates and accidental contingent predicates in this way. First, as regards essential predicates, they are either identified with or included in the definitions of their subjects. However, their subjects are not included in them. In ‘Man is an animal,’ for example, ‘animal’ is included in ‘man’ but not vice versa. Second, as regards accidental necessary predicates, it is just the other way around. Such predicates are not included in their subjects, says Aquinas, but their subjects are included in them.28 In ‘Every human is risible,’ for example, ‘risible’ is not included in ‘human’ but ‘human’ is included in the definition of ‘risible.’ ‘Risible’ means ‘having the ability to laugh.’ But since something laughs only if it is a rational animal, the concept of having the ability to laugh includes the concept of being human. So ‘risible’ includes in its notion the idea of being human. Finally, as regards accidental contingent predicates, they are not included in their subjects nor are their subjects included in them. Thus, in ‘Some human is white’ it is not the case either that ‘white’ is included in ‘human’ or that ‘human’ included in ‘white.’

TYPES OF JUDGMENTS From this it appears that, from the viewpoint of the relation of their subject and predicate terms, subject-predicate judgments divide into three types for Aquinas. First, there are those self-evident judgments that cannot be denied without self-contradiction. And because these judgments have essential predicates they might be called essential judgments. Thus, it cannot be denied without direct contradiction that an animal is an organism. Second, there are those judgments which, while they can be denied without direct contradiction, nonetheless cannot be denied without indirect or virtual contradiction. Thus, it can be denied without direct self-contradiction that a human being is risible. For the predicate here is not related to the subject either as its genus, its species or its difference. Hence, the predicate is not included in the subject. But it cannot be denied without indirect or virtual self-contradiction that a human being is risible. For as was stated, though the predicate is not included in the subject, the subject is included in the predicate. But whenever this is so, to deny the predicate is necessarily connected to the subject is to deny that the subject is included in the predicate. But here it cannot be denied without direct contradiction that the subject is included in the predicate. For the concept of being human is included in the concept of risible. Therefore, it

Being

51

cannot be denied that being risible necessarily (though not by definition) belongs to a human being. To make such a denial amounts to a virtual contradiction just because it implies denying that being human is included in the definition of being risible and this denial is a direct contradiction. This second type of judgment in Aquinas might be called a necessary but non-essential judgment. Third and last, there are those judgments, such as ‘some human is white,’ that can be denied without either direct or virtual contradiction. These judgments comprise the overwhelming majority of judgments. The fact that they can be denied without either direct or virtual contradiction means that their subject and predicate terms are logically independent of each other. The subject terms of such judgments are not included in their predicate terms nor, vice versa, are the predicate terms of such judgments included in their subject terms. For that reason they are contingent judgments. And when they are true, they signify and are caused by contingent facts, according to Aquinas. They are necessary neither in the sense that their subjects include their predicates nor in the sense that their predicates include their subjects. To ask here whether this tripartite division of judgments in Aquinas corresponds to Kant’s later division of judgments into analytic, synthetic a priori and synthetic a posteriori is almost unavoidable. The answer is both yes and no. Aquinas’s essential judgments are like Kant’s analytic judgments in that their predicates are either identified with or included in their subjects. For that reason, both essential judgments and analytic judgments cannot be denied without direct contradiction. But the difference is that while Aquinas’s essential judgments signify real relations, Kant’s analytic judgments are only about the relations between ideas or concepts. To take Kant’s own example, to say ‘All bodies are extended’ is not to signify a fact in the real world. It is merely to say that the concept ‘extended’ is included in the concept ‘body.’ But for Aquinas, the same judgment does signify a necessary fact in the world. He would say that the necessary tie between the two concepts both mirrors and is the effect of a necessary connection in the real world between being a body and being extended. As for Kant’s synthetic a posteriori judgments and Aquinas’s contingent judgments, there is a closer parallel. In each case the subject and predicate terms are logically independent of each other and in each case the judgment, when true, goes beyond the concepts involved and signifies a fact in the world. Still, there is a difference. For Kant’s synthetic a posteriori judgments signify how things are in the world as it appears to us and not how things are in the world as it is in itself. But when they are true, Aquinas’s contingent judgments tell us how things are in themselves. Finally, as for Kant’s synthetic a priori judgments and Aquinas’s necessary but non-essential judgments, once again there is both similarity and difference.

52

Chapter Two

In each case the judgment is necessary even though the predicate falls outside of the subject. And just because of that, the judgment is more than simply a relation of ideas. But there are differences. First, as its name indicates, Kant’s judgment is a priori. It is not drawn from sense experience but is rather the condition of sense experience. Not so with Aquinas’s necessary but non-essential judgment. Second and following on this, Kant’s judgment does not reveal how things are in themselves but only how things appear to us. But Aquinas’s judgment reveals how things are in themselves. Third, Aquinas’s necessary but non-essential judgment is one in which the subject is included in the predicate. That explains why the judgment is necessary even though the predicate is neither the definition nor part of the definition of the subject. Thus, the explanation Aquinas gives of the necessity of such judgments is logical. But as is well known, the necessity of Kant’s corresponding synthetic a priori judgment is explained epistemologically rather than logically. The necessity of such judgments is not explained by the fact that their denials are virtually (if not directly) contradictory. That is Aquinas’s logical explanation. They are explained by the fact that without them experience would not be possible. In short, they are explained by Kant’s taking his celebrated transcendental turn in epistemology.

THE TRANSCENDENTAL TURN AS UNWARRANTED But from Aquinas’s point of view this transcendental turn of Kant’s, so influential to the course of modern philosophy, is entirely unnecessary. The necessary but non-analytic judgments that Kant is at such pains to explain can be otherwise explained. For all such judgments, according to St. Thomas, are classified as necessary but non-essential judgments. And then their necessity can be justified logically just as is the necessity of essential judgments. The only difference is that while the necessity of the latter is justified by the fact that their predicates are included in their subjects, the necessity of the former receive a logical justification that is just the converse of this. Their necessity is grounded in the fact that their subjects are included in their predicates. But this is a logical justification nonetheless. And if it is successful, then every one of Kant’s synthetic a priori judgments may be grounded in this way as opposed to grounding them, as does Kant, in what he calls his Copernican revolution in epistemology. But Aquinas would go further. He would say that the transcendental turn of Kant’s is not only unnecessary but disastrous as well. To understand why his judgment in this regard would be so negative, we must return to the categories. For Aquinas, the ten categories of Aristotle characterize how things

Being

53

are in themselves. But Kant’s twelve categories are not descriptive of how things are in themselves. Instead, they characterize how things are as known by us. For these twelve categories are nothing but twelve ways in which we conceptually combine sense data in knowledge. They constitute the form as over against the content of our knowledge. And as knowledge for Kant always comprises form and content both, the object of knowledge is in part made by us. What is known, then, is reality as it appears to us and not as it is in itself. But St. Thomas would have rejected this idealist turn as regards the categories. For he would have shunned the consequences this turn has for judgmental knowledge or the truth of judgment. For Aquinas, this always consists in the conformity of mind to object. But if categories are nothing but the ways in which we organize and combine sense data, then that same knowledge and truth is not the conformity of mind to object but the conformity of object to mind. And so far as Aquinas is concerned, this puts the cart before the horse. The confusion also invites skepticism. If judgmental knowledge is the conformity of object to mind instead of the other way around, then such knowledge is always knowledge of appearance and not of reality. How things really are in themselves is cut off from our view. Moreover, if such knowledge is thus severed from reality it is also severed from truth. For if judgmental knowledge is the conformity of object to mind and the truth of judgment is the conformity of mind to object then knowledge and truth run in opposite directions. And then it can no longer be said that judgmental knowledge implies the truth of judgment. To heal this split and bring knowledge and truth back together again, idealists after Kant make the transcendental turn with respect to truth just as Kant had made it with knowledge. To make idealism consistent on the matter of knowledge and truth, truth as well as knowledge is made to consist in the conformity of object to mind. Among the absolute idealists, truth is no longer the conformity of judgment to isolated, extra-mental fact. It is the logical coherence of a judgment to other judgments. Truth thus becomes a conformity to mind in the sense of rationality. Thus, along with judgmental knowledge, true judgment is construed as the conformity to mind or reason. Since knowledge and truth now run in the same direction, Kant’s transcendental turn is made complete. This might be a more consistent and full-fledged idealism than Kant’s idealism. But St. Thomas would urge that reuniting knowledge and truth in this way only invites skepticism once again. If a true judgment is one that squares with other judgments to make a unified system, then, says the idealist, it is this whole system with which truth is primarily identified. Judgments that enter into the system are only partial truths. They are made true only by their relations of reason

54

Chapter Two

to all the others. “Die Wahrheit ist das ganze,” says Hegel. But under this holism of absolute idealism to know anything we must know everything. But since that is impossible, it follows that nothing at all is known by us. And so, however contrary it is to their intended correction of Kant, the price absolute idealists pay for making truth run parallel to knowledge is universal skepticism. St. Thomas would have had another objection to making the categories forms of understanding only. It is that it ushers in a theory of truth that in his judgment is mistaken. That is the celebrated coherence theory of truth. To see how the latter is implied by a transcendental gloss of the categories, recall that under that gloss knowledge is the conformity of object to mind, where ‘mind’ means rational connectedness. And lest knowledge and truth run in different directions, truth too must be the conformity of object to mind and not the other way around. But to construe the truth of judgment as the conformity of object to mind is to embrace the coherence theory of truth. For no other view of truth does justice to the idea that truth is the conformity of object to mind where ‘mind’ means rational connectedness. Hence, to follow Kant and take the transcendental turn as regards the categories is to invite the coherence theory of truth. It is no accident that coherentism as regards the definition of truth first appears in the shadow of Kant. In embracing it, Hegel and his followers thought they were fulfilling, and not undermining, the Kantian philosophy. But from the coherence theory Aquinas would have recoiled. And he would have done so partly for the same reasons as did Moore and Russell in the last century. That is because he both believed that the law of contradiction is true and that it is the ground of all coherence. But he would have seen that these two propositions exclude the possibility that truth of judgment is defined in terms of coherence. To explain, suppose truth is defined in terms of coherence. Then, since to say P and Q cohere is to say P cannot be affirmed and Q denied or vice versa without contradiction, then the law of contradiction is the ground of coherence. But the law of contradiction is not itself true because it coheres. Otherwise it is not the ground of all coherence and a new ground of coherence is required. It follows that the supposition is false and propositional truth is not defined as coherence. True, as explicitly stated, this is a Russellian argument against coherence. But the argument is implicit in any philosopher who both sees the law of contradiction as the logical ground of coherence and counts that law as true. And Aquinas is one such philosopher. But to continue, truth would be defined as coherence if the transcendental turn is taken as regards the categories. For to repeat, no other plausible theory of propositional truth is available when such truth is defined as the conformity to mind in the sense of rational connectedness. Therefore, Aquinas would conclude that, since it

Being

55

leads to the untenable coherence theory of truth, to take the transcendental turn as regards the categories is to take a wrong turn in philosophy.

THE CONCEPT OF FORM Besides the notions of being, essence, existence, substance and accident, the notion of form is prominent in Aquinas’s metaphysics. Part of the reason for this is that form is a wider notion in Aquinas than it is in Aristotle. And the wider a notion is the more apt it is to belong to metaphysics. In Aristotle form is always form of matter. For that reason form in Aristotle is glued to the physical world. Along with matter, it is the highest concept in the philosophy of nature or what Aristotle called physics. But in Aquinas form is not necessarily in or of matter. The human soul is a form and yet exists independently of matter, according to Aquinas. It survives the death of the body. And essence as found in separated substances such as angels is form without matter. Angels are identified with their own forms or essences. That is why, says Aquinas, there is with angels no multiplication of individuals within a species. For within any given species it is matter, says St. Thomas, that is the principle of individuation. Aquinas states that essence sometimes has the sense of form.29 It does so when essence signifies the determination of a thing. For form is the determination of matter. What Aquinas has in mind here is that essence might be considered either in relation to existence, in relation to accident or in relation to that in which essence is found, i.e. supposit. Looked at in the latter way, essence specifies matter and so is said to be the determination of matter. But this is exactly the definition of form. Form is the specification of matter. So from this point of view essence is correctly said to be form. Further, when essence signifies form, form is taken in the sense of form of the whole as opposed to form of the part. Aquinas states that the form of the whole signifies the whole essence which, when it informs or specifies primary matter, results in an individual substance.30 Thus, humanity is a form of the whole. It signifies the whole essence of a person which, when it informs or specifies matter, results in an individual person, say, Socrates. But the form of the part signifies the formal part of a complete essence which, together with the material part, makes up the complete essence. Thus, rationality signifies a form of the part. It does not signify the whole essence of a human being but only the formal part of that essence from which the difference is derived. The material part is, of course, animality from which the genus is derived. Rationality and animality make up the complete essence of a person. This is reflected in the definition, i.e. “A person is a rational animal” which,

56

Chapter Two

like any definition, includes both difference (derived from the form of the part) and genus (derived from the material part). As for the material part of an essence, this is evidently not the form of the whole. But Aquinas does not count it as being the form of the part either, even though it signifies part of a complete essence, i.e. the material part. That is because any material part of an essence is by definition not the formal part of an essence and hence not form of the part. But right here one must be guarded against misinterpretation. The form of the part is not difference, the form of the whole is not species and the material part which is potential with respect to the form of the part is not genus. For strictly speaking, difference, species and genus are logical beings for Aquinas. As such they are beings of reason. But the form of the part, the form of the whole and the material part which is specified by the form of the part are real being. For they signify either an essence or a part of an essence. But except in an extended sense of the term, beings of reason do not have essence. Recall Aquinas’s statement that essence is taken from categorial being (which is real being) and not from being in the sense of true judgment.31 And the reason for this is that since the latter is mind-dependent it does not strictly speaking have essence. But while the form of the part, the form of the whole, and the material part are not identified with difference, species and genus respectively, they are nonetheless the ground of these notions. For Aquinas, logical entities are the effects and signs of real entities. Difference is taken from the form of the part as signifying what is formal (actual) in the essence. Genus is taken from the material part as signifying what is material (potential) in the essence. And species is taken from the form of the whole as signifying the complete essence, i.e. both form and matter together. A sign of the difference between these two sets of entities, logical and real, is this. The latter are present in a subject but never predicable of a subject. Neither the form of the part nor the form of the whole nor the material part are predicable of a subject. We cannot say that Socrates is rationality or that he is humanity or that he is animality. For no part is ever predicated of a whole and each one of these things signifies a real part of Socrates. By contrast, these same three elements in the real person Socrates might be considered logically as well as really. They might be taken as difference, species and genus, respectively. And when they are, they are predicable of Socrates. That is because, as difference, species and genus, they signify the whole and not just part of what Socrates is. Thus, while we cannot say that Socrates is rationality or humanity or animality, we can and do say that Socrates is rational, human and an animal.

Being

57

But considering essence as form of the whole and as form of the part can be misleading. It can invite the error of thinking that for Aquinas essence is in every respect formal or actual. For the form of the whole is the form of primary matter. But matter is pure potentiality with respect to form. So the form of the whole is evidently act with respect to matter or potentiality. And as for the form of the part, it too is form or act with respect to what the genus signifies. And this is the material or potential part of an essence. Thus, the formal and material parts of the essence humanity are rationality and animality respectively. And here, the relationship is one of actuality to potentiality. For rationality specifies or determines animality to make a certain kind of animal, namely, a human being. But animality is in potency to being specified by other forms too. For example, it can be specified by a form that results in the kind of animal we call a fox. So, since the material part of an essence is related to the formal part as potentiality to actuality, it follows that the form of the part is also a principle of actuality, just as is the form of the whole. The difference is that they are principles of actuality with respect to two different things. The form of the whole actualizes primary matter while the form of the part actualizes the material part of an essence. However, that essence is not in every respect formal or actual is shown when it is taken in relation to existence. Here, it is existence that is actual and essence that is potential. For whether essence is form of the whole or form of the part, it has being only in and through esse. It is the act of existence that makes any essence actually be. Otherwise it is a mere possibility. But unlike essence, existence is in no respect potential. It is not actual with respect to essence but potential with respect to some deeper, more fundamental principle of actuality. For that reason, it is the deepest and most fundamental actuality. But in the view of Aquinas, the actual is prior to the possible or the potential. In this, he once again follows Aristotle. He must therefore conclude, as he does, that existence is prior to essence. If the actual is prior to the potential and existence is in all respects actual while essence is potential with respect to existence, then existence is prior to essence. It is, says Aquinas, “the actuality of all actualities and for that reason the perfection of all perfections.”32 It is in this sense that St. Thomas is correctly called an existentialist. But over and above its being potential with respect to esse, essence has its own positive role to play in the composite of essence and existence. And this is predicated on its actual as opposed to its potential side. True, essence is secondary to esse to the extent that it is by esse that it is made to be. But though esse makes any essence actual, it is essence that makes how one esse is higher than how another one is. And this essence could not do if, like primal matter,

58

Chapter Two

it were mere potentiality. One way of putting this is to say that existence is adverbially incomplete. It requires essence to complete it. If we say that x exists, the natural question is, “exists how”? Does x exist as stone, as tree, as horse, as human or as what? And depending on how this is answered, a higher or lower mode of esse results. If x exists as a stone and y exists as a human being, then the latter mode of being or esse is evidently higher than the former. So it is essence that makes any one esse higher or lower than another. In sum, while it is esse that makes essence be, it is essence that makes esse how it is.

DEGREES OF BEING From what has been said, it is evident that Aquinas recognizes degrees of being. At the bottom of the ontological ladder are negations and privations. These have propositional being only. They are only because they are subjects of true judgment. Next come chimeras which, like negations and privations, are beings of reason and not real beings. But unlike negations and privations, chimeras are comprised of elements that are taken from real being. Thus, the idea of a centaur is taken from two real things, i.e. a horse and a man. A notch above these is the lowest form of real being. This is generation and corruption. Generation is said to be only because it is on its way to what is and corruption is said to be only because it is falling away from what is. Thus, the process of an acorn’s becoming an oak sapling is said to be only because it is on its way to what is in the primary sense of ‘what is,’ namely, a substance. Or the process of an acorn’s becoming warm as the earth heats up in the spring is said to be only because it is on its way to what is in a more primary sense of ‘what is’ than the process, namely, warmth. True, as an accident of some substance (in this case the acorn), warmth is not itself being in the primary sense. For this belongs to substance alone. But warmth is being in a more primary sense than is the process of becoming warm. For process of any kind is a mixture of the actual and the non-actual (potential) in a way an accident is not. A process toward form, for example, whether the form is accidental or essential, has the character of being “not-yet.” But though an accident like warmth is not being in the primary sense, it is, as it were, fully arrived. It does not have the character of being “not-yet.” And just to that extent is it no mixture of the actual and the non-actual the way a process is. So, not being a mixture of being and non-being in that sense, accidents are a rung above generation and corruption on the ladder of being. Finally comes substance which is said to be in a higher sense than accident. For unlike accident, substance is not said to be only because it is the modification of something

Being

59

else that is said to be. Rather, substance is the something else of which other things are modifications and on account of which the latter are said to be. But the ladder of being continues. For even among substances some are said to be in a higher sense than others. Broadly speaking, there are three divisions. In last place are substances (the overwhelming majority) that are unidentical with either their being or their essence. They both are and are what they are per accidens. However different they are among themselves (and they range from being dust and dirt to being humans) they are all of them peas in the same pod. For they have dependent being and dependent essence. Their being and essence, like the light of the moon, is not their own. They have both being and essence participatively and not originally. True, these precarious beings are substances and not either accidents, processes, chimeras, negations or privations. So ontologically speaking, things could be worse for them. But among substances they are the lowest. Though they are beings, they are beings with a mixture of non-being. For they are not just act but a composite of act and potentiality. And the worst of it is that they are this mix both on the side of being and on the side of essence. As for the latter, they are not just essence but essence in matter. And as for the former, they are not just being but the being of a distinct essence. In first place, of course, is God. God is substance that is the polar opposite of all these material substances. So far from His being neither His own being nor His own essence, God is both His own being and His own essence. That means that in God being and essence are one. Since God’s essence is His being and being as such is purely actual, there is in God no mix of act and potency either on the side of essence or on the side of being. As a result, God is ontologically simple. There is one more logical possibility and that is substance that falls in between these two. Such a substance would not be its own being but would be its own essence. The converse, by the way, is not possible. It is impossible for something to be its own being but not its own essence. For it was previously shown that whatever is its own being is also its own essence. In any case, this logical possibility Aquinas believed to be actual. And this he held on faith. For it is part of Christian (as well as some non-Christian) belief that there are separate substances in between God and material substances. These are angels. Moreover, Aquinas thought that belief in angels was not unreasonable, even though it could not be strictly proved. It made sense under a hierarchy of being, he thought, that there should be something to fill the gap between human beings and God. On the one hand you have a separated substance that is its own being and essence (God). On the other hand you have a non-separated substance (a human being) which, though it has a spiritual form, is nonetheless neither its own being nor its own essence. So given a hierarchy of being, it is fitting that in between is a separated substance which, while not

60

Chapter Two

its own being is nonetheless its own essence. An angel is not its own being. Otherwise an angel is God. Like human beings, then, angels are creatures. But unlike human nature, the angelic essence is not received in matter. Otherwise angels are not separated substances. It follows that, like God, any angel is its own essence. Every angel, therefore, is a species unto itself.

BEINGS AS DEPENDENT ON GOD At the core of Aquinas’s metaphysics are two theses which today are widely doubted. They are 1) that nothing is unless God is and 2) that something’s having the property F implies that the exemplar of F exists in God’s mind. The first is the conclusion of his celebrated argument for God’s existence based on the contingency. The second is the doctrine of divine ideas. Of course, if nothing is unless God is, then nothing has the property F unless God is. For a thing must be to have properties. But going beyond 1), 2) states that to the extent that a thing a is F, a is modeled after the Idea of F-ness in God’s mind. This relation of things to their models in God’s mind Aquinas calls the truth of things as opposed to the truth of propositions. It is a view that can be traced to Augustine. History aside and to focus first on 1), Aquinas holds that just as a certain length exists only because some body exists of which it is the length, so too any body for its part exists only because God exists. Each case involves total dependency though in different ways. Length is an accident and accidents internally depend on the substance of which they are the accident. By this it is meant that the idea of substance enters into the definition of accident. You cannot define length or for that matter any other accident taken as accident without bringing into the definition something else on which it depends i.e. substance. A body, on the other and, is a substance in its own right and not an accident. It does not, therefore, qua substance, depend on substance internally, i.e. in that substance enters into its definition. Apart from anything else, that would issue in a circular definition. Nonetheless, a body does depend on substance externally, if not internally, according to Aquinas. By this it is meant that any body depends on another substance, God, as the cause of its being or existence. Unless God exists, therefore, no body exists. Aquinas thinks that this follows from the fact that bodies are contingent beings and that contingent beings depend on a non-contingent being to be. A contingent being is one that is not identified with its own existence. Otherwise its essence would be to be and thus it would not be a contingent being after all but a necessary one. In any case, it is evident that in this three things must be shown. First, that bodies are contingent beings, second, that contin-

Being

61

gent beings depend on a non-contingent being to be and third, that this noncontingent being is identified with God. That bodies are contingent beings follows from the fact that they are not identified with their own essences. To explain, if something x is identified with its own existence so that x’s essence is one with its existence, then x is ipso facto identified with its essence. Otherwise, there being more to x than its essence, there is more to x than its existence. And then it is untrue to say in the first instance that x is identified with its existence. But bodies are evidently not identified with their own essences. It follows that bodies are not identified with their acts of existence and so are contingent beings. In behalf of the second premise, take, for example, Fido. Fido is not identified with dogness. Otherwise to be dog is to be Fido. And then Fido and Rex are not two dogs but one. Fido, then, is more than his essence dogness. If, though, Fido were one with his act of existence so that his essence and existence were one, then Fido would not be more than his essence dogness. It follows that Fido is more than his act of existence and so is a contingent and not a necessary being. Second, for the proposition that contingent beings like bodies depend on a non-contingent being Aquinas argues as follows. Whatever is, say A, but is not identical with its own act of existence, is evidently composed of existence and some essence of which it is the existence. Thus, if Fido is not identified with his act of existence, then Fido is evidently composed of that existence plus the essence dogness which is actualized by it. But if A’s existence is distinct from A’s essence, then the former is accidental to the latter. But if something is accidental to an essence, then its presence with or in that essence is due to some external thing. Thus, if heat is accidental to water then that some water is hot is due to something external to water, say, fire. Therefore, if A is not identified with its own act of existence but is a composite of existence and essence both, then A’s existing, like the heat of the water, is due to something else external to A, say, B. Now as it is with A so is it with B. If B’s existence is distinct from B’s essence, then the former is outside of or accidental to the latter. And then once again, B’s existence is due to some external thing C, and so on. But if this chain of existential dependency proceeds to infinity, then none of the members of that chain in the first instance exist. B’s existence is not a sufficient reason of A’s when B’s existence is itself simultaneously caused by C’s. By analogy, the movement of a cane is not a sufficient reason of the movement of a rock on the ground if the cane moves the rock only because it, the cane, is simultaneously being moved by me. Unless, then, there is a being the essence of which is to be, there is no being like A, B, or Fido whose essence is not to be. If there are things that exist per accidens then there must be

62

Chapter Two

something that exists per se. Otherwise something that is not its own sufficient reason exists without sufficient reason. Third, even if the foregoing shows that something exists per se or is a noncontinent being, how does Aquinas move from “x is a non-contingent being” to “x is God or the highest being”? For with Kant philosophers might object that this inference is licensed only by the simple converse of “x is a necessary being implies that x is the highest being,” namely, “x is the highest being implies that x is a necessary being.” But the trouble is, the latter proposition, on which the ontological proof turns, falsely construes existence as a property of the highest being. For to say that the highest being is a necessary being is to say that the concept of the highest being includes the concept of existence. So, since the proof of God from the contingency of things in the long run reverts to the error of the ontological proof, i.e. counting existence as a property, then the former proof falls along with the latter. Aquinas would reply that his own proof makes no such inference from something’s being a necessary being to its being the highest being. It is therefore untouched by Kant’s objection. Thus would Aquinas deny Kant’s blanket assertion that any proof from contingency turns on that inference. For Aquinas, necessary being is opposed to possible being and non-contingent being is opposed to contingent being. Any non-contingent being is a necessary being and any merely possible being is a contingent being. But it is not necessary nor is it the case that a necessary being is a non-contingent being. Some necessary beings, i.e. angels, are not necessary in themselves but receive their necessary being from the non-continent necessary being, God. Since, then, some necessary beings are contingent beings (i.e. beings which are not one with their acts of existence), and no contingent being is the highest being, it follows that the move from a necessary being to God or the highest or most perfect being is illicit. Aquinas, then, concurs with Kant that you cannot move from something’s being a necessary being to its being the highest being. What you can do, says Aquinas, is to move from something’s being a being whose essence is one with its existence to its being the highest being or God. Here, ‘being whose essence is one with its existence’ is not synonymous with ‘necessary being.’ It is a species of the latter. So, since it is not in the first instance a case of deducing the highest being from a necessary being, Aquinas’s own proof from contingency (call it ACP) falls outside the circle of such proofs at which Kant’s criticism is aimed. Aquinas’s proof proceeds as follows: ACP 1. If there is a being whose essence is not one with its existence, then there is a being whose essence is one with its existence.

Being

63

2. But there is a being whose essence is not one with its existence. 3. Therefore, there is a being whose essence is one with is existence. 4. But a being whose essence is one with its existence is the highest being or God. 5. Therefore, God or the highest being exists. Here, Aquinas moves in 4. from “x is a being whose essence is one with its existence” (E) to “x is God or the highest being” (H). But this succeeds only if, assuming that E is true, there is at most one being whose essence is one with its existence (O) and being a being whose essence is one with its existence is equivalent to the highest being (B). For his part, though, St. Thomas would defend both O and B. And in so doing would he justify the move in 4. from something’s being a non-contingent being to its being the highest being or God. As for O, Aquinas would proffer the following reductio: suppose there are two beings, x and y, in each one of which essence and existence are one. Then, since they are two and not one, neither one of them is identical with its essence. Otherwise to be such a being is to be x, in which case y does not exist, or to be such a being is to be y, in which case x does not exist. But then in each one of them, in x and in y, essence and existence are distinct. And so, the supposition that there are two (or more) beings in which essence and existence are one is contradictory. It implies that in these same beings essence and existence are distinct. By analogy, suppose that essence and existence are one in Socrates. Then Socrates is his essence, in which case, to be human is to be Socrates. But since Socrates and Plato are two humans, to be human is not to be Socrates. Hence, essence and existence are not one in Socrates. Accordingly, to say that there are two beings, x and y, in which essence and existence are one is at the same time to say that in these same beings, x and y, essence and existence are not one. As for B, Aquinas would again turn a reductio. For suppose that to be the one being whose essence is one with its existence is not equivalent to being the highest being. Then since this being is identified with its esse which is act, then this same being is just act without any potentiality. And then a being which is purely actual is not the highest being. But that is contradictory. For the highest being is ipso facto the most perfect being and something is most perfect to the extent that it is act without mixture of potentiality.

GOD AS EXEMPLAR To move toward Aquinas’s defense of 2), we begin with his belief that no body is its own essence or form. It is always a combination of form and matter both.

64

Chapter Two

Thus, Socrates is not his own essence humanity. Otherwise to be human is to be Socrates. Whenever form or act is found in matter or potentiality the resulting composite is unidentical with that form or act. Otherwise a whole is identified with its part. Since, therefore, sensible things such as Socrates are not form or essence alone but form or essence in matter, form or essence is said to be in sensible things participatively. To say that Socrates participates in humanity is to say that in Socrates matter is actualized by the form humanity. On the side of essence, the relation of participation is thus a relation of matter to form. What participates is to what is participated in as matter is to form. In other words, sensible things are not their own essence or form F but rather do they participate in F. For, says Aquinas, if some whole x has the form F but also has something else y added to it then x is properly said to participate in F.33 Thus, humanity in Socrates exists by participation just because Socrates is not the essence humanity but is humanity together with individuating matter. Stated differently, Socrates is not just humanity but in Socrates humanity is joined to another thing matter of which it is the form. But a form F is in some individual x by participation just when x is not just F but F plus another thing, matter, of which F is the form. Therefore, humanity exists participatively in Socrates. As was noted previously, this same relation of participation holds for being as well as for being F. Socrates is not his own esse any more than he is his own essence. Otherwise it is of Socrates’ very essence to be. In Socrates, esse is act with respect to potentiality. But this time the potential principle is the essence humanity. Therefore, since in Socrates esse is act with respect to the essence humanity, Socrates is unidentical with his esse. A person is no more his own being than he is his own essence. Otherwise, once again, a whole is said to be one of its parts. Therefore, instead of identity, the relation between Socrates and his esse is once again one of participation. Socrates exists only participatively just as he is human only participatively. He participates in esse just because he is not his own esse just as he participates in essence just because he is not his own essence. And in each case Socrates is to that in which he participates as potentiality is to actuality. In any case and as to being F participatively, one is reminded of Plato’s dualism of particulars and Forms. That which is participated in, the timeless Forms, are both separated from the temporal particulars that participate in them and self-subsistent. So the question is, does Aquinas claim for essences or forms this same separate, self-subsistent status? From the fact that essences are in particulars participatively does it follow in his view that those same essences exist non-participatively and separately? Aquinas spells out what he takes to be the Platonist’s argument for answering this question affirmatively. The premises of the argument St. Thomas

Being

65

accepts. But he denies that the conclusion follows. He raises the argument, G, as an objection to his own view that the only exemplary cause is God. Thus, G Whatever is by participation is reduced to something self-existing. . . . But whatever exists in sensible things exists by participation of some species . . . Therefore, it is necessary to admit self-existing species, as, for instance, a per se man, and a per se horse, and the like, which are called the exemplars. . .34

Aquinas holds that G is invalid. When the premises of G are true, all that follows, says he, is that something exists non-participatively if things exist participatively. It does not follow that this self-existing thing is a self-existing species, i.e. a Platonic Form. G feeds on an ambiguity. The first premise concerns participation of being in the sense of existence. It is, in fact, the principle of his own proof of God from contingent things. What is, but is not by its own essence (i.e. what is participatively), depends on what is self-existing or what is by its own essence (i.e. what is non-participatively). But the second premise concerns participation of being in the sense of essence or species. It concerns what is F participatively and not what is participatively. So even though the premises of G are true in their own right, G fails due to equivocation. The Platonic conclusion that there is a self-existing or per se man, horse, etc. does not follow. Just because the non-participative being that is implied by participative being is self-existing when ‘being’ means ‘existence,’ it does not follow that the non-participative being that is implied by participative being is self-existing when ‘being’ means ‘essence.’ True, Plato is right as over against Aristotle that form in matter implies form that is separate from matter. But from the fact that form is separate from matter, it does not follow that form is separate altogether. It might be the case that the forms or essences that are separate from matter are not separate from God. But Aquinas goes further. Not only does the Platonic conclusion of G not follow but it is in his view false. If it is true, then real stone, i.e. stone that exists independently of minds, is immaterial. And as it is with stone so is it with every other natural thing. To the extent that any natural thing is real it does not exist in matter. But Aquinas thinks that it is plainly impossible for real stone to exist immaterially. True, our concept of a stone exists immaterially. For when we form a concept of a stone our intellect forms the universal stoneness which abstracts from particular material existence. Also, the Idea of stone in God’s Mind exists immaterially. But this is far from saying that real stone i.e. stone that is independent of mind exists immaterially. This unacceptable conclusion Aquinas thinks comes from confusing how natural things

66

Chapter Two

are with how they are known.35 Just because such things are and must be known immaterially it does not follow nor is it the case that their real (mindindependent) being is also immaterial. Thus, like Aristotle and unlike Plato, Aquinas denies that universals or forms exist self-subsistently. But like Plato and unlike Aristotle, Aquinas affirms that these same forms or universals exist separately from matter. Striking a synthesis, he holds with Augustine that they exist ante rem in God’s Mind. Yet an Aristotelian would persist in the following question. From the fact that F exists participatively in a, how does it follow that F exists non-participatively? This inference must be shown and not just stated. And even if that inference does hold, how does Aquinas show that the non-participative existence of F takes the form of an eternal Idea in God’s Mind? To answer, it is convenient to begin with Aquinas’s distinction between object and condition in predication. Blurring that distinction invites what recent philosophers call confusing use and mention. St. Thomas provides an example of this error in the following pseudo-syllogism: “Socrates is human, human is a species; and so Socrates is a species.”36 Human is used and not mentioned in the first statement but it is mentioned and not used in the second statement. Removing the ambiguity means rewriting the second statement, correctly, as “Human is a species,” thereby exposing the four-term fallacy. Alternatively, one can say that in the second statement ‘human’ signifies the device of predication whereas in the first statement it signifies the form or property that is predicated in and through that device. Recall the scholastic distinction between id quod and id a quo. Thus, in “Humans are animals” and “Socrates is human” the genus animals and the species human are each one of them the id a quo (that by which) we judge that humans are animals and that Socrates is human, respectively. And in using these predicables for that end, we are the efficient or agent causes of those judgments. But animals and humans are in each case the id quod or that which is predicated of humans and of Socrates in and through those same predicables. Just because you use animals and human to predicate animals and human of humans and Socrates, respectively, it does not follow nor is it the case that animals and human are what are predicated, again respectively, of humans and of Socrates. Now the point of all this is that blurring object and condition is not confined to logic. It surfaces in metaphysics in the issue of universals. What it means to say that two things share or participate in some form F is that neither one of them is identical with F. Instead, each one is a composite of F and what participates in F. With Aristotle we can call the latter matter or potentiality. By contrast, something is or has form non-participatively just when it is identified with its form. Recall Plato’s Forms. They are each one of them form alone and do not have this other thing, matter, joined and related to them as potentiality to its actuation.

Being

67

If something x has form participatively (i.e. if it is a composite of form and matter) then the form in question, though it might be internal to x, is external to the matter in x that participates in it. Thus, suppose that Fritz is a fox. Then, though the form of being a fox is essential to Fritz, it is not essential but accidental to the matter in Fritz which participates in the form of being a fox. Otherwise matter is essentially form and in particular the form of a fox. However, if form of any kind is accidental to matter, then it is caused to be in matter by something else. This cause is an efficient cause which actuates matter to assume the form in question. By analogy, since being 100 degrees Fahrenheit is accidental to water, then water’s being that temperature is due to some external efficient cause, say, fire. This cause of the matter in x assuming some form F evidently cannot be identified with some other individual F-thing y which, like x, participates in F. For the question is, what causes the matter in any individual at all to take on or assume some form that is accidental to it? To this the answer cannot be some other individual that is also participatively F. For the matter of this second individual, no less than that of the first, takes on or assumes F which, in a manner of speaking, is accidental to it. For it is added onto it, as it were, from the outside. But since it is just this that must be explained, any such “explanation” begs the question. A is not explained in terms of B when B is either the same as or includes A. No explanatio is or includes the explanatum without circularity. By analogy, if existence is something added to and hence, in a manner of speaking, accidental to essence in some individual y (i.e. if y is a contingent being) then existence in y is caused by something else. Yet the latter cannot be said to be something else z in which existence is also added or “accidental” to essence. Otherwise one explains something in terms of itself. Be that as it may, our question here concerns essence and not existence. If what causes matter in x to assume the form F, which is added to that matter, is not another thing y that is also participatively F, then with what is that cause identified? Some say that this question is moot. For ‘matter’ here refers not to the matter of modern physics but to Aristotle’s primal matter. But that individuals are composed of matter in this sense is allegedly of historical interest only. Aristotle’s primal matter, so the objection runs, has long since been replaced by succeeding notions of matter in modern science, beginning with Galileo’s atoms and extending to Newton’s, Einstein’s, and even to contemporary concepts of matter. Yet the answer to this is that Aristotle’s primal matter remains untouched by scientific notions of matter, old or new. That is because its rationale is not science but the philosophy of nature and logic. To focus just on the latter, primal matter is implied by classification into genera. Genus is essentially abstraction from form. I abstract from the form or difference rational in humans

68

Chapter Two

to form the genus animal; and I further abstract from the form or difference sentient in animals to form the wider genus organism. That implies that there is a widest possible genus which is bereft of all form. One genus is sensibly said to be wider than another only in relation to a widest genus. Besides, unless there is a widest genus, then, since any species includes the genera above it, it follows that any species includes an infinite number of genera. Among other things, that excludes definition. For one thing, the definition of a species is in terms of its proximate genus. But specifying a genus as proximate implies that some genera are wider than others, and saying this, as was said, requires a widest genus. For another, definition presupposes that the definiendum has determinate sense. This is excluded, though, if a species includes an infinite number of genera. All this implies that if there are real definitions, then something in material things answers to genus and something to difference. These are matter and form, respectively.37 Moreover, any such thing includes its species as well as all the genera above it, the widest genus included. It follows that any material thing includes primal matter or the pure potentiality for form. Wittgenstein once asserted that simple signs (and hence, in his view, simple objects) are required for determinate sense.38 Aristotle might be interpreted as having proffered a similar argument. There must be simple (primal) matter if there is real definition, i.e. if the species of things are to have determinate sense. Nevertheless, that genus and difference reflect constituents in real things has been challenged. In the place of this realism in logic, some favor a conceptualism. Under it, classification answers to nothing in reality but is the work of minds. Accordingly, genus, difference, and species signify appearance and not reality, i.e. how we construe things and not how things are. In the scientific revolution at the time of Galileo a quantitative view of the world replaced Aristotle’s qualitative one. Under this change, only those features are real which are measurable. All others are based on the measurable and belong to appearance. Based on quality and not quantity, then, genus, difference, and species just reflect the way we human beings view or organize reality and not reality itself. But if so, then from the genus-difference dichotomy in logic one falsely infers the matter-form complex in reality. And in that case no one successfully deduces simple or primal matter from the idea of the widest genus. This objection does contain a kernel of truth. And that is that classification, along with the predicables of genus, difference and species that figure in it, are the work of minds. Like syllogisms and judgments, they are not real beings but that type of entia rationis which some scholastics called second intentions. However, the objection also harbors a glaring irony. For the idea that science reveals the real world is one which science itself has long since abandoned. Consistent with Kant’s “Copernican revolution” in epistemology, sci-

Being

69

entists have insisted for the past century or so that science does not reveal the world as it is in itself but the world only insofar as it can be made intelligible to us at a given stage of scientific opinion. So science too, it seems, is about appearance and not about reality. But in that case, the foregoing objection to a realist construal of the genus-difference schema is compromised. For then the option looms large that it is our genus-difference schema that mirrors reality and science that mirrors appearance and not the other way around. Be that as it may and assuming for the sake of argument that genus, difference and species in mind reflect something in reality, let us recall the question. If what explains why primal matter in x assumes the form F is not some other thing y that is also participatively F, then what explains it? The answer can only be in terms of what is both efficient cause and non-participatively F. Something is required to make matter take on form and that can only be an efficient cause. By analogy, something is required to make marble take the shape of Athene and that can only be an efficient cause, in this case Phidias. That excludes a Platonic form as the cause of matter’s being F in a. For to identify the required non-participative F here with a Platonic Form falsely substitutes a formal for an efficient cause. Recall that Plato installed the Demiurge to explain matter’s being F in a. He saw that what is required here is an efficient cause.39 Yet what the Demiurge has on the one side it lacks on the other. For in addition to being efficient cause, the cause of matter’s being F in a must be non-participatively F and the Demiurge is not. Plato’s forms are separated not just from their copies but also from the Demiurge who makes the copies. What meets both criteria is something that is both agentcause and non-participatively F. As both agent-cause and non-participatively F, such a being might be called a divine being or a god. However, a plurality of such gods is ruled out. For suppose that there is one such agent-cause that is non-participatively F, another that is non-participatively G, a third that is non-participatively H, etc., each one being the agentcause, respectively, of F-things, G-things, H-things, and so on. Then, sharing the form of being both agent cause of Φ-things and non-participatively Φ, each one is participatively divine. Each one is both participatively agentcause of Φ-things and participatively non-participatively Φ. For all of them share the properties of being agent-cause and of being non-participatively Φ. As such, they are not identified with their own forms of divinity but are each one of them a composite of that form and some matter or potentiality. Otherwise they are one and not many. Yet right here our previous logic takes hold. In any composite of form and matter or of the actual and the potential the former is added to the latter as something external or “accidental” to it. Hence, under the assumption of two or more gods, the form of divinity in each god is added to the matter or potentiality which

70

Chapter Two

it specifies. And then to explain the fact that matter or potentiality in each one takes on the form of divinity, i.e. the form of being both agent-cause of Φ-things and non-participatively Φ, one must invoke what is non-participatively divine, i.e. what is both non-participatively agent-cause and non-participatively nonparticipatively Φ. Thus, if the idea of god includes being ultimate and uncaused, then the supposed many caused gods in the end imply a single uncaused God. Finally, to explain how this one divine being or God can be both non-participatively Φ and also maker of all Φ-things, this same God is said to have the Idea of Φ in His Mind from all eternity. Otherwise this God is ignorant of what He makes. Whence the doctrine of divine Ideas. So it is that logic and reality correspond. Just as in judgment the condition under which alone one attributes P to S is different from what, under that condition, one does attribute to S, so too in reality the condition under which alone a exemplifies F is different from the F which, under that condition, a does exemplify. The condition of predication, to repeat, is one of the predicables, say, a genus or a species. As opposed to an hypostasized Platonic Form, genera and species are what scholastics call second intentions, i.e. forms as existing in our minds. They are thus mind-dependent. They are not essences as such but essences as known by us, i.e. universalia post rem. And what by means of these predicables is assigned to a subject is some form taken just as such, apart from existing in minds or in things. By the same token, the condition under which alone particulars exemplify forms is different from the forms they exemplify. The latter is again identified with some form or property taken just as such while the former is identified with that form or property taken as existing ante rem in the mind of God. So once again the condition is mind-dependent, though here the mind in question is God’s and not ours. Thus, the condition of my judging that Fritz is a fox is the species fox, whereas the object predicated is the form of fox taken as such, apart from existence either in minds or in things. By the same token, from what was said above, the ultimate condition of Fritz’ exemplifying fox is the divine Idea of foxhood, while the object exemplified in and through that condition is once again the form of fox taken as such, apart from existing either in minds or in things. For we saw that the fact that makes my judgment, “Fritz is a fox” true comes from matter’s taking on what is accidental to it, i.e. the form of foxhood. That requires something that is both the efficient cause of matter’s being fox in Fritz and non-participatively F, in this case, non-participatively fox. That can only be God taken as participable by creatures, and this is the divine Idea of Fox. But the object as opposed to the condition of this exemplification is once again the form of fox taken as such, apart from existing either in minds or in things.

Being

71

Accordingly, in logic and reality both one distinguishes the dimensions of essence and existence. To the former belong the existentially neutral objects that are predicated of subjects in logic and that are exemplified by particulars in reality. These are identified with universals or essences taken absolutely, apart from any mode of existence. To the latter belong the mental or ideal conditions under which alone judgment in logic and exemplification in reality are possible. And these are identified with universals post rem in our minds (i.e. the second intentions of genus, species, etc.) and with universals ante rem in God’s mind, respectively. It remains to answer a stock objection. For it will be alleged that no one consistently posits many Ideas in the divine Mind and retains divine simplicity. Either our transcendent agent has many Ideas but is not God or there are no such Ideas in God. To skirt this, one might again invoke, with Aquinas, the distinction between the id quod and the id a quo in knowledge. If God’s mind contains many ideas in the sense of mental likenesses by which (id a quo) He understands, then it is not consistent with God’s simplicity to say that many ideas are in God. But if the many ideas in God refer to that which (id quod) is understood by God and not to mental likenesses by which He understands, then it is not inconsistent with God’s simplicity to say that many Ideas are in God. For it is hardly inconsistent with God’s simplicity to say that God understands many things. Aquinas puts it this way: . . . Now it is not repugnant to the simplicity of the divine mind that it understand many things; though it would be repugnant to its simplicity to be informed by a plurality of likenesses. Hence many ideas exist in the divine mind as that which is understood by it; . . .40

Yet it might be countered that this reply falls short of the mark. True, the foregoing distinction excludes a plurality of ideas in God in the sense of a plurality of likenesses. To that extent is divine simplicity preserved. Still, even granted that ‘idea’ refers to what is understood and not to likenesses by which something is understood, to say that these objects of understanding exist in God still seems to contradict divine simplicity. How is it any more consistent with divine simplicity to say that many distinct objects of thought are in an absolutely simple being than it is to say that many distinct mental likenesses of objects are in such a being? To this Aquinas responds, . . . Inasmuch as God knows his own essence perfectly, He knows it according to every mode in which it can be known. Now it can be known not only as it is in itself, but as it can be participated in by creatures according to some kind of likeness. But every species has its own proper species, according to which it

72

Chapter Two

participates in some way in the likeness of the divine essence. Therefore, as God knows his essence as so imitable by such a creature, He knows it as the particular model and idea of that creature: and in like manner as regards other creatures. So it is clear that God understands many models proper to many things; and these are many ideas.41

Stated in terms of our line of argument, this counter-reply of Aquinas is glossed as follows. One distinguishes God as He is in Himself and God as cause of creatures. Accordingly, God is knowable in both ways. Since, then, God knows Himself perfectly, then He knows Himself in all the ways in which he is knowable, including knowing Himself as cause of creatures. But being the cause of creatures includes being the cause of matter’s being F in these creatures. But since matter’s being F in a creature is the same as the latter’s being participatively F, it follows that being the cause of a creature includes being the cause of its being participatively F. However, we saw that the cause of something’s being participatively F can only be some agent that is non-participatively F, and that this is identified with a single God. Therefore, in knowing Himself as cause of some creature God knows Himself as being non-participatively F. But every creature has its own proper form Φ. Therefore, to the extent that God knows Himself as cause of creatures of various kinds, it follows that God knows the Ideas of these creatures as objects of thought. In this sense only is it consistently said that many Ideas are in God. The answer can be put differently. To that end, it is useful to compare ‘a is F participatively’ with ‘a is participatively.’ As to the latter, to say that a is or exits participatively is to say that, instead of being identified with a, existence in a is combined with some distinct thing in a, essence, to which it stands as actuality to potentiality. Existence being thus distinct from essence in a, it follows that, not being due to its essence, a’s existence is due to something else. This is only as it should be since the actual is accidental to the potential. Thus S, if a composite x has a potential side and an actual side, then x is neither identified with either side nor is either side of x due to the other. But in that case each side of x is due to something external to x. So it is in this case. Since a’s existence (its actual side) is not due to a’s essence (its potential side), then a’s existence is due to some other act of existence that is external to a. And we saw that since this existential dependency cannot proceed to infinity (otherwise that a exists goes unexplained), there must be something according to Aquinas that is or exists non-participatively, i.e. something which is its own act of existence as opposed to its having or possessing some act of existing. As it is with a is participatively, so is it with a is F participatively. To say that a is F participatively is to say that, instead of being identified with a,

Being

73

form in a is combined with some distinct thing in a, matter, to which it stands as actuality to potentiality. Essence or form thus being distinct from matter in a, it follows that, not being due to its matter, a’s form is due to something else. And once again, this is only as it should be since, the actual is accidental to the potential. Invoking S once again, then, it must be said that since a’s form (its actual side) is not due to a’s matter (its potential side) and since a is not identified with its form F, then it follows that a’s being F is due to some other F that is external to a. And once again, this essential (as opposed to the previous existential) dependency cannot proceed to infinity. Otherwise a’s being F goes unexplained. There must therefore be something that is F non-participatively, i.e.something which is its own form or essence, as opposed to having or possessing some form or essence. Now either this non-participative F—this form that is separated from matter—is separated from Mind too or not. It is either a Platonic or an Augustinian Idea. For several reasons, some of which he takes from Aristotle, Aquinas rejects the former. The concepts of dirt and stone, say, evidently include matter in their definitions. Otherwise there is no difference between physical and mathematical definitions, says Aquinas. Moreover, a definition signifies the real essence of a thing. If, then, there is a self-subsistent Stoneness and Dirtness and if, as Plato holds, real stone and dirtness are identified with these and not with sensible stones and dirt, then it follows that real stone and dirt are both immaterial and changeless. It follows too that the difference between physical and mathematical definitions is obliterated.

THE “THIRD MAN” Second, Aquinas accepts Aristotle’s celebrated objection that Plato’s view invites a “third man.” The phrase ‘third man,’ though, might be understood in three ways. First, says Aquinas, it might refer to the ideal man who is a third man as distinct from two perceived men, say, Socrates and Callias. Second, it might refer to the man that is common to the ideal man and some perceived man. Third, it might refer to an intermediate man that falls between the ideal man and some perceived man. Such a third man would thus belong to the same level in Plato as do individual numbers, lines and other mathematical objects. So the first question is, which one of these three meanings does Aristotle have in mind when he accuses Plato’s view as inviting a third man? And the second question is twofold: how does Plato’s view imply a third man in that sense and why does that implication unravel that view?

74

Chapter Two

As for the first question, Aquinas rightly eliminates the first sense of ‘third man.’ This sense simply states the position against which Aristotle is arguing, i.e. the dualism of self-subsistent forms and particulars. It does not point to an absurdity that issues from that position. Unlike the first meaning, the second one does produce an absurdity, i.e. the indefinite regress of the same Form, in this case the Form man. This is the celebrated objection to the Forms that is raised in the Parmenides. Yet Aquinas denies that by ‘third man’ in Metaphysics Book One, chapter nine Aristotle has in mind this second meaning. For he correctly notes that Aristotle raises this objection immediately after raising the absurdity of the third man, counting the former as a distinct objection to Platonic Forms. And that would be pointless and repetitious if the third man absurdity is here taken by Aristotle in the second sense. So he takes Aristotle to mean by ‘third man’ here the third meaning, i.e. a man that falls between the Form Man and perceived men. This is a plausible interpretation especially since Aristotle clearly and explicitly uses the expression ‘third man’ in this same third sense elsewhere.42 In fact, in the view of A. E. Taylor, Aristotle always uses ‘third man’ in this sense when he broaches the problem of the third man in Plato.43 In any case, assuming that Aquinas is right about what Aristotle means by ‘third man’ here, how does the theory of Forms imply a third man in that sense? And further, how does that implication undermine the theory of Forms? To answer, agreeing with Aristotle, Aquinas states that if in addition to the Form line and sensible lines there are intermediate lines according to Plato, then consistency demands that there is an intermediate man (a third man) in addition to the Form Man and perceived men. But Plato denies that there are such intermediates in the case of things like man and horse. There are just the Forms of man and of Horse on the one hand and sensible men and horses on the other with nothing in between. Intermediate entities are limited by Plato to mathematical entities such as particular lines, circles, and numbers. With Aristotle, Aquinas agrees with Plato’s denial of intermediate men and horses, i.e. men and horses that, like Plato’s lines and numbers, are immaterial. But he thinks that it is to just such mathematicized men and horses that one is committed if one posits self-subsistent Forms. For if the Forms of man and horse are one with the Forms of Line and Number in being immaterial, why should not immaterial men and horses be admitted along with immaterial lines and numbers? So, to the extent that the theory of Forms admits immaterial Forms such as the Form of Man and Horse and yet excludes particular immaterial men and horses corresponding to particular immaterial lines and numbers, it is an arbitrary theory. To this the Platonist might answer that particular lines and numbers must be treated differently from particular men and horses. And as a result, one

Being

75

need not admit an intermediary or third man, given the Form Man, just because one admits intermediary lines and numbers, given the Form Line and Number. And they must be treated differently because whereas matter enters into individual men and horses, matter does not enter into individual lines and numbers. Therefore there is nothing arbitrary about admitting intermediary lines and numbers, given the Forms of Line and Number, while excluding intermediary men and horses, given the Forms of Man and Horse. But Aquinas and Aristotle both would counter that this just begs the question. Even if matter enters into perceived men and horses but does not enter into the unperceived lines and numbers of mathematics, why should not Plato also admit unperceivable and immaterial men and horses? If the forms of Man and Horse are one with the forms of Line and Number in being immaterial, why admit immaterial lines and numbers but exclude immaterial men and horses? Says Aristotle, . . . . But it is hard to say, even if one suppose them (the Forms) to exist, why in the world the same is not true of the other things of which there are Forms, as of the objects of mathematics. I mean that these thinkers place the objects of mathematics between the Forms and perceptible things, as a kind of third set of things apart both from the forms and and from the things in this world; but there is not a third man or horse besides the ideal and the individuals. . . .44

Aquinas, then, would urge the following dilemma against Plato’s theory of forms. Either it recognizes a third man and horse as between the form of Man and Horse and perceived men and horses or not. If it does, the absurdity follows that there are immaterial men and horses like the immaterial lines and numbers of mathematics. If it does not, then the Platonist is inconsistent in excluding individual men and horses while admitting immaterial lines and numbers. And like Aristotle, Aquinas thinks that this dilemma is avoided only by denying its source, the Platonic theory of separated Forms. What Aquinas calls the second sense of ‘third man’ also unravels the theory of forms in his view. As was said, this is similar to though not identical with the third man objection of the Parmenides. Here again, the problem can be cast in the form of a dilemma. Either the form of Twoness is one in definition with twoness as found in both sensible and mathematical twos or it is not. If it is, then there is something in common as between them. But then, just as Plato says that there must be a separate form of Twoness because there is something in common between the many sensible twos and the many mathematical twos, so must he say that there is another form of Twoness for the same reason, i.e. because there is something in common between the sensible and mathematical twos on the one hand and the form of Twoness on the other. For no reason can be given why the former form should exist but not the latter.45 But this invites

76

Chapter Two

the absurdity of an indefinite multiplication of forms of Twoness. Nor can Platonists answer this objection, says Aquinas, by saying that forms do not require any higher forms since they are immaterial and incorporeal whereas sensible twos are not. Otherwise the objects of mathematics in Plato, which are also immaterial and incorporeal, do not stand in need of higher forms. And according to Plato they do.46 But if the form of Twoness is not identical in definition with twoness as found in both sensible and mathematical twos, then the latter twos cannot be said to participate in the form of Twoness. It would be like saying that many cranes (in the sense of birds) can be said to participate in the form of Crane (in the sense of a of machine). Plato’s theory of forms, therefore, either implies an indefinite regress of forms or denies that sensible and/or mathematical F-things ever do participate in the form F.47 Aquinas anticipates a Platonic reply. It is that the form Twoness and twoness as found in sensible and/or mathematical twos are neither the same nor totally different in definition. The definitions are equivocal not by chance but by reference. In this are they like ‘healthy’ as predicated of organisms and food. Under this reply, therefore, the form of Twoness is twoness strictly speaking while the twoness found in both sensible and mathematical twos is twoness only by reference to the form of Twoness. But then it follows that two perceived twigs, say, and the twos I add and subtract are no more really two, (or for that matter twigs or numbers) than food is really healthy. And in that case it is as difficult to understand how they are said to participate in the forms of Twigness and Twoness as it is to understand how food is said to participate in the form of health. The Platonist will finally protest that the problem of the third man (when ‘third man’ is taken in what Aquinas calls the third sense) feeds on a nonsensical objection. To get started, it must assume that F is predicated of F-ness just as it is predicated of particular F-things. But that is nonsense. You cannot say that Twoness is two but only that Socrates and Callias are two, that Fido and Rex are two, and so on. For the expression ‘x is F’ signifies that F exists participatively in x. But we saw that even in the view of Aquinas this implies that x is not form alone but a composite of form and matter. But the form of F by definition exists non-participatively and so cannot be a composite of form and matter but form alone. It is F-ness itself and not something that is F. It follows that to say that F-ness is F is neither true nor false but unmeaningful. If it is a premise of this third man argument that F-ness is F, then Aquinas would agree that the objection is senseless. For Aquinas would be the first to say that F-ness is F falsely assimilates what is simple and form alone to a composite of form and matter. If saying that x is F presupposes that x is a composite of form and matter and implies that x is caused by F-ness, then you

Being

77

cannot say that F-ness is F without implying another form of F-ness in virtue of which the first F-ness is F, and so on, ad infinitum. Aquinas agrees with the Platonist that the regress here is capped by denying to begin with that ‘F-ness is F’ is meaningful. ‘F-ness is F’ is meaningless because it is contradictory. And it is contradictory because any subject is taken as a composite of matter and form. It is taken as a whole with respect to the predicate which picks out some part of that whole. But the “subject” here is F-ness itself and not the thing that is F. It is form alone and not a composite or whole of form and matter. The contradiction, then, is that F-ness here made to be a subject when it cannot possibly be a subject. Nevertheless, Aquinas disagrees that this third man argument requires the premise that F-ness is F. It can be stated without that premise. It does not, in fact, assume that premise as it appears in Aristotle.48 To raise this third man objection, one need not argue that if Twoness is two and sensible things are two then there is another form of Twoness by virtue of which they are two. That is the third man argument of the Parmenides. Alternatively, one could (and Aquinas thinks Aristotle does) instead argue this way. If the form of Twoness is one in definition with twoness as found in sensible and mathematical twos, then, since there is something in common as between them, then there must be another separate form of Twoness. This argument clearly admits the problem of the third man even though it makes no use of the senseless premise, “F-ness is F.” Moreover, it is an argument which Plato cannot consistently reject. For according to Aristotle and Aquinas, Plato himself uses the argument to prove that forms exist. Plato argues that because there is something common as between sensible and mathematical twos (since the twoness found in sensible and mathematical twos is one in definition) it follows that there must be a separate form of Twoness.49

OTHER OBJECTIONS TO SEPARATED FORMS Besides the two third man arguments against Platonic Forms, Aquinas accepts and comments on Aristotle’s argument that if forms are substances, then no particular sensible thing is a substance.50 But since the latter is evidently false, forms are not substances and the theory of forms is collapses. To explain, suppose that it is assumed with Platonists that forms are substances. Then forms are not predicable of a subject. Otherwise, forms exist in a subject and it is proper to a substance not to exist in a subject. But if sensible particulars are substances, they must be such by participating in the forms. For substance in the primary sense belongs to the forms. But in that case the forms do exist in a subject after all and hence are not substances. Therefore,

78

Chapter Two

since in Plato the forms are substances in the strict sense it follows that sensible particulars cannot be substances. But it is evident that sensible particulars are substances. Therefore, the theory of separated forms goes down to defeat. Platonists would answer that the alleged absurdity here, i.e. that sensible particulars are not substances, is not absurd at all but true. For appearance must be distinguished from reality. Sensible things do appear to be substances so far as common sense is concerned. But philosophically speaking they are no more really substances than the image of a tree in a pool is really a tree. They are, like images, relational. As the image is nothing but a reflection of the real tree, so sensible particulars are only reflections of real substances. And these are the forms. But Aristotle and Aquinas would counter that if a sensible particular is not a substance in its own right, then it must belong to something else that is substance. But what it belongs to cannot be a form. Otherwise immaterial, timeless forms have material, temporal parts which is absurd. Therefore, if under Platonism sensible particulars must not be construed as being substances, then they must belong to something else that is substance. The latter, though, can only be matter. But if matter is substance, then it is substance only because it participates in or is the subject of the forms which are properly speaking substances. And then it follows once again that the forms do inhere in a subject (i.e. matter) and hence that they are not substances after all. As in the case of sensible particulars, the Platonist might retort that matter is only substance in an extended sense, i.e. only because it is the subject of substance, i.e. the forms. But this will not do. If matter is not really substance then it must belong to something else that is substance. But since the latter is not either matter, a Platonic form, or a sensible particular, it must be some fourth thing. And since that fourth thing is evidently not really substance either (otherwise, once again, the forms are not separated substances), it must belong to some further substance, and so on, ad infinitum. In the end, therefore, it follows that there is no alternative to surrendering Plato’s theory of Forms. Platonists might more effectively reply that the fact that sensible particulars are not in their view substances does not imply that they exist in something else that is substance, i.e. that they are accidents. As was previously suggested, they might insist that sensible particulars are relations. But with the early Russell they might say that relations are neither substances nor accidents. The relation ‘north of’ is neither a substance nor, like any accident or attribute, is it predicable of a substance. But in that case the objection that if the forms are substances then sensible things are not substances stands disarmed. For Platonists would answer that the consequent here is simply true. Sensible particulars are not substances but relations. But as relations, they are

Being

79

impredicable of a substance. Since, then, there is no substance to begin with in which sensible particulars inhere, it is pointless to say that that phantom substance is substance only by participating in the forms. But then the objection that saying the latter implies that forms do inhere in a subject and so are not separated forms after all cannot even be raised. And yet one can anticipate how Aristotle and Aquinas would answer. True, relations like ‘north of’ are neither substances nor do they inhere in a substance. When A is north of B ‘north of’ is neither present in nor predicable of either A or B. Instead, it stands between A and B without being a property of either one. But that sensible particulars are not plausibly construed as relations is evident from their status as universals. ‘North of’ holds not only between A and B but also between many other pairs. It is one with respect to many and so is universal and not particular. But no one can say that a sensible particular like this tree or that person is one as over against many. Being unique and unrepeatable, this tree or that person is particular and not universal. Agreeing with this, Platonists might reply that sensible particulars are not relations but relational entities. And unlike relations relational entities are particular and not universal. An image in a pool is unique and unrepeatable. It is not something common to many as are relations like ‘north of.’ But this rejoinder only serves to re-invite the main objection. Suppose that the image of Socrates in a pool is neither a substance nor a relation but a relational entity. Does it not then follow that such an image is an accident? For the image in question is necessarily present in something, i.e. a pool. If, then, sensible particulars are relational entities like images in a pool, then they too must be present in a subject and hence be accidents. But then whatever it is that sensible things inhere in is a substance. But according to Platonists, this substance, be it identified with matter or anything else, is substance only because it participates in the forms to which ‘substance’ properly applies. And then it follows once again that the supposed separated forms are instantiated in a subject and so are not separate forms or substances after all. I consider one more Aristotelian objection to the forms with which Aquinas agrees.51 St. Thomas once again frames the objection as a dilemma. Suppose that some organism B comes to be. B’s character is due either to the fact that some agent looks to a separated exemplar in making or not. If not and the specific likeness of B to A, another organism of the same type, is just due to A, then it is superfluous and pointless to posit separate exemplars of any kind. The latter would not be the exemplar of B. But the fact is that in Plato exemplars are formal causes of things like A and B. But if the likeness of B to A is due to some agent’s looking to a separate exemplar in making B (and A), then the absurdity accrues that B’s being and nature is not due to A. B would no

80

Chapter Two

more owe its being and character to A than one automobile in a production line owes its being and character to its predecessor. B will come to be whether A exists or not. Thus, would it be pointless and superfluous to posit either one of Socrates’ parents as having anything to do with Socrates’ being and nature. And that is unacceptable. Under the Platonic theory of forms, therefore, either those forms are pointless and superfluous (or as Aristotle says, “have no work”) in the generation of Socrates (or anything else) or Socrates’ parents have nothing to do with Socrates’ coming into being as a new human being.52 In short, as regards Socrates coming to be, either the form of humanity is causally superfluous or Socrates’ parents are causally superfluous. But the former contradicts Plato’s own view and the latter is unbelievable. It follows that the theory of separated Forms must be abandoned. Here, Aquinas notes that even though this dilemma defeats the Platonic theory of separated exemplars, it does not disprove exemplars in the sense of Ideas in God’s mind.53 That organisms are naturally inclined to produce their likenesses in the things that are generated might be due to some intellect that knows and wills the end to which these inclinations are directed as well as the relationship of things to that end. That organisms naturally and regularly produce their likenesses in the things generated might be due to an exemplar in the sense of a plan or purpose directing all things to their due ends. And Aquinas holds that an exemplar in this sense of a divine plan directing things to their ends bears the character of law.54

OBJECTIONS TO DIVINE IDEAS ANSWERED To recur to divine Ideas, it was mentioned that Aquinas was not unaware of objections to the thesis. The most obvious difficulty is reconciling the plurality of these Ideas with the absolute oneness and simplicity of God. God, we saw, is identified with his own being and hence with his own essence. There is in God, therefore, no division either of being and essence or of essence and supposit. God simply is his own act of existence. Yet, Aquinas also holds that the Ideas are both many and unseparated from God. How, then, are these two views to be made compatible? If God’s essence is not only one but even one with his own act of being, how are many essences or Ideas included in God? To this it cannot be answered that the many Ideas are included in his mind but not in his essence, just as the many ideas I have are included in my mind but not in my essence. For God’s mind is not distinct from his essence. Aquinas’s answer is that it does not infringe on God’s simplicity to say that God knows many Ideas as objects of knowledge. It would only infringe on his simplicity if, in knowing Ideas, his mind were informed by a plurality of like-

Being

81

nesses. In other words, since the many Ideas are what God knows and not that by which he knows, God’s simplicity is not sacrificed by saying God knows many Ideas. At first this seems to save God’s simplicity at the cost of placing the Ideas outside God, thus giving them the separate, Platonic status Aquinas himself denies they have. For saying that Ideas are what God knows instead of the internal acts by which God knows them seems to make the Ideas as separate from God as the tree in my yard is separate from me when I say that it, the tree, is what I know or perceive. But Aquinas’s answer is that, in knowing Ideas, what God knows is Himself and no external thing. It is just that he knows Himself not in Himself but as participable by creatures. Being perfect in his knowledge, God knows Himself in all the ways He is knowable, including as participable by creatures. But to know Himself as participable by creatures is to know many Ideas. For though the Ideas are not distinct from the divine essence, they are multiplied according to the relation of that essence to creatures. The reason for this is that, unlike the divine essence, the essence of every creature is distinct from its being. In creatures essence falls away from being while in God it does not. That is why they are only creatures. And this division of essence and being in creatures (as opposed to their union in God) implies that being in creatures participates in divine being only analogously and imperfectly. For instead of being being pure and simple, the being of creatures is always the being of some essence, as of something other or external. And so the being of creatures is always being that is limited or restricted by something other than itself, namely, essence. And the different ways in which the being of creatures thus comes to be limited or restricted by something other (i.e. essence) is just the multiplicity of species among creatures. Since, then, every creature participates in the being that is the divine essence only as it is the being of this or that particular species, it follows that to know the divine essence as participable by creatures is necessarily to know many species or Ideas. The distinction between the divine essence in itself and the divine essence as participable affords an answer to a second objection to divine Ideas. It is the objection of ontologism. If I know Ideas and the latter are identified with God’s essence, does it not follow that in knowing Ideas I have direct knowledge of God in this life? But it is part of Christian doctrine that no person directly knows God in this life. In fact, Aquinas himself affirms this when he says that God is known directly only in the Beatific Vision after death. But as was just indicated, St. Thomas would answer that in knowing Ideas I know only the divine essence as participable by creatures and not the divine essence in itself, apart from its being participated in by creatures. That is to say, I know the divine essence relatively to creatures and not absolutely. So the same distinction that serves to answer to the first objection that the plurality

82

Chapter Two

of Ideas is incompatible with God’s simplicity serves to answer the second objection of ontologism.

THE CONCEPT OF GOOD This chapter is incomplete without recurring to the idea of teleology in Aquinas, especially as it is linked to the act of existence. This calls for examining the idea of good in Aquinas and showing how it is related to esse. Aquinas’s account of ‘good’ in several respects parallels his treatment of ‘true.’ ‘Good,’ like ‘true,’ is a categorial property. Any real thing, no matter what category it falls under, is good, just as any real thing, no matter which category it belongs to, is true. Moreover, like ‘true,’ ‘good’ does not add anything real to being but only something conceptual. Aquinas states that something, A, can be added to another thing, B, in three ways. First, A is an accident of B and so is outside the essence of B. Second, A delimits or restricts B, as human delimits or restricts animal by the difference rational. Third, A is added to B according to reason. Thus, being blind, which is outside the essence of human, is predicated of some human. Nonetheless, being blind signifies nothing in reality but is a privation in a human being, namely, the absence of sight. And privations are beings of reason only. Like true, ‘good’ does not add to being in either the first or the second sense. For accident is outside of essence and difference is outside of genus. But since outside of being is nothing, good does not add to being as an accident or a difference. Nor does ‘good’ add to being by limiting or contracting being. This is the way a category adds to being. Each one of the ten categories adds to being by limiting, contracting or restricting being. But a category does not do this like a difference. Otherwise being would be a genus and outside being taken as a genus is nothing. Instead, a category limits, contracts or restricts being by being a determinate mode of existence.55 Thus, since being is not in the first place univocally predicated of substance, quality, quantity, etc., it cannot be said that, in adding something to being, a category adds something to the genus being. In other words, the objection cannot be made that a category cannot add something real to being (since outside being is nothing). For this objection assumes that being is a genus and it is not. Nonetheless, ‘good’ does not add to being the way a category does. And this, says Aquinas, for the simple reason that good divides into the ten categories just as being does.56 For ‘good,’ just like ‘true,’ is a transcendental. And that means that ‘good’ is found in all the categories. If good is not a category but is found in all the categories, then ‘good’ does not add to being in the manner of a category.

Being

83

‘Good’ is like ‘true’ not only in adding to being something conceptual and not real but also in adding to being some relation.57 But the relation is different in each case. Being is called true because it is related to intellect. But being is called good because something else that is oriented to it.58 But that to which something is oriented is an end. So something is good to the extent that it is end. But something is end to the extent that it perfects that of which it is the end. Thus, health, which is the end of a physician’s activities, is the perfection of those activities. Hence, good is a perfection toward which something tends or is oriented. But further, something perfects that of which it is end to the extent that it is act with respect to potentiality. Thus, a state of health in a patient is the actualization of the potentiality in the physician’s activities to produce health in that patient. Therefore, something is good to the extent that it is act. Being is end with respect to something oriented to it either as essence or as existence. As regards the former, all material beings are composed of primal matter. But primal matter is nothing but orientation to form. And form here is essence or nature. So any material being such as a tree or a toad is called good just because, as essence or form, it is end with respect to its own matter. But it is important to point out here that the matter of anything is oriented to its form or essence only because that form or essence exists. Goodness is consequent upon essence or form only to the extent that the latter is existentially realized in some thing. In this, goodness differs from truth. Truth is consequent upon essence or intelligible specificity alone, regardless of whether or not the latter really exists. Some essence or form is called true because it is conformable to by intellect, even though that essence or form is a mere possible, having no real existence. For example, suppose some endangered species, say, the whale, ceases to exist. Still, the form or essence whale is called true because, in knowing what a whale is, our intellects are conformable to whalehood. But according to Aquinas, that same essence whalehood could not be called good when whales have ceased to be. It can only be called good when it is existentially realized in whales. Socrates would gain no good or perfection from the form wisdom unless Socrates were wise. That is what Aquinas means when, contrasting truth and goodness, he says that while truth belongs to intellect, goodness belongs to things.59 He approvingly refers to Boethius’ statement to the effect that a thing is said to be good in virtue of its own act of existing.60 This link between goodness and existence explains why Aquinas follows Aristotle in denying that goodness is found in mathematics. For mathematics deals with purely conceptual entities, i.e. entities that are abstracted from real being. Where there is abstraction from being in the sense of existence there is no goodness. Thus, though abstract notions like line and number are true

84

Chapter Two

(since, in being known, they are conformed to by intellect), they are not good. Final causality has no place in mathematics. Nothing in mathematics is proved by final cause, says Aristotle.61 This gives rise to an objection. If being is found in mathematics but not goodness, then being and good are not perfectly convertible. But it is Aquinas’s view that being and good are perfectly convertible. To this St. Thomas replies by making a distinction.62 The objects with which mathematics deal are good when they are considered as existing in things. Numbers as existing in things such as five apples or seven pears are good as are lines that indicate yards on a football field. For it is real and not conceptual being that is here concerned. But numbers and lines as considered by mathematicians have conceptual and not real being. But when it is said that being and goodness are convertible, ‘being’ refers only to real being and not to conceptual being. But the paradox is that, though good is in things and truth is in intellect, truth is prior to goodness. Since both true and good follow on and include being, being is prior to them both. But truth is closer to being than goodness. Therefore, truth is prior to goodness.63 In behalf of the first premise, Aquinas would say that truth by definition is the conformity of intellect and being and goodness is by definition being in the sense of end or fulfillment. So being enters into the definitions of both truth and goodness. As for the second premise, Aquinas says first that if there is some mode of being in which there is truth but not goodness then truth is closer to being than goodness. But this is in fact the case. Mathematical essences such as line and number are true because they are knowable. But they are not good since, as was said, they lack real being. Second and what is really behind the first reason, true is closer to being than goodness because true follows on being in any sense of being while good follows on being as in some way perfected. Thus, true follows immediately on being while good does not. This comes down to saying that true follows even on possible being or essence while good follows only on actual being or existence. For even possible being is knowable while, since no mere possible being is perfect (since it is not fulfilled or actualized), no mere possible being is good. If something is good to the extent that it is end, then to know what end is is to know what good is. End, of course, is a relational notion. End is not only related to means but it is also related to the subject of which it is the end. An acorn is the subject that has an oak as its end. At the same time, activities that take place in the acorn are means to the end in question. Looked at in relation to its subject, any end is the actualization or fulfillment of that subject. It is to its subject as the actualization of an orientation is to that orientation. Stated differently, end is act with respect to potentiality. And since act perfects and

Being

85

fulfills potentiality, it follows that end perfects and fulfills the subject whose end it is. If, therefore, good has the nature of an end, it follows that to the extent that any being is good it perfects and is act with respect to some potentiality. After noting that whatever has the nature of an end also has the nature of goodness, Aquinas says, . . . Two things, however, pertain to the nature of an end: 1) that it be sought after or desired by those things that have not yet attained it, and 2) that it be loved by, and as it were lovable to, those things which share in its possession; for it pertains to the same nature to tend toward its end, and in some way to rest in it. . . . Now these two things belong to the very act of existing. For those things which do not yet have this act tend toward it by a certain natural appetite. Thus matter, as the Philosopher says, desires form. All things that presently have existence, however, naturally love that existence, and preserve it with all their power. . . .64

But to continue, if good is act with respect to potentiality which it perfects, then the higher a thing is act the higher the sense in which it is good. And since good has the nature of an end, the higher the sense in which something is act, the higher the sense in which it is end. But it was stated that existence is act in a higher sense than essence. For though it is act with respect to matter, essence is potentiality with respect to the act of existence. But since existence is not potentiality with respect to some further act, it is the act of all acts.65 But since in the view of Aquinas God’s essence is to be, God is act alone without potentiality. It follows that God is in the highest sense end and good. Thus, 1. Something is good to the extent that it is end. 2. Something is end to the extent that it perfects that of which it is the end. 3. But something perfects that of which it is the end to the extent that it is form or act. 4. So, something is good to the extent that it is form or act. 5. But existence is the act of all acts. 6. So a thing is most properly good to the extent that it exists. 7. But only God is His own being or act of existence. 8. Therefore, only God is ultimately good or goodness itself. Coming to a similar conclusion differently, one can say: A. The being (esse) of any contingent thing is the fulfillment or perfection of its essence. B. But the fulfillment or perfection of a contingent being is its good.

86

Chapter Two

C. So the being of any contingent being is its good. D. But in God, the non-contingent being, there is no division of what fulfills or perfects and what is fulfilled or perfected. That is because God’s essence is His being. E. So in God there is no division of good and what is perfected by good. There is just good. F. Therefore, God is the highest good or goodness without any mixture of non-good.

NOTES 1. Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, trans. J.P. Rowan (Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1961), I.L.9:C 138. 2. ———, Commentary on the Trinity of Boethius, q5 a1 in J.F.Anderson, ed., An Introduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas (Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1953), 7–8. 3. ———, On Being and Essence, trans. A. Maurer (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 1949). 2, 35. 4. ———, On Being and Essence 1, 26. 5. ———, On Being and Essence 1, 28. 6. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, IV, L.1: C 539, 218–19. 7. ———, Commentary, V.L9:C 885–7, 344–5. 8. ———, Commentary, IV.L.4: C 574. 9. ———, Commentary, V.L.9:C 885, 344; ———,On Being and Essence, 1, 26. 10. ———, On Being and Essence, 1, 26–7. 11. ———, Commentary, V.L.9: C 897, 347. 12. ———, Commentary, VII.L1:C 1245, 488. 13. ———, Commentary, V.L.9: C 897, 347. 14. ———, Commentary, IV.L1:C 539–40, 218–19. 15. ———, Commentary, VI.L.4: C 1241, 483. 16. ———, Commentary, V.L.9:C 895,346–7;———, Commentary, IX.L.11:C 1898, 700. 17. ———, Commentary, VI.L.4:C 1227, 480. 18. ———, Commentary, VI.L.4:C 1242, 483. 19. ———, Commentary, IV.L4: C 574, 232. 20. ———, Commentary, VII.L1: C 1256, 491. 21. ———, Commentary, V.L.9: C 896, 347. 22. ———, Quodlibetal Questions in J.F.Anderson, ed. An Introduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas (Chicago:Henry Regnery, 1953), II q2 a3, 26. 23. ———, On Being and Essence, 1, 27. 24. ———, On Being and Essence, 4, 45–6.

Being

87

25. Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, trans. Norman Kemp Smith, (London: Macmillan, 1958), B628, 505–6. 26. ———, Critique, A600; B628, 505–6. 27. Aquinas, Summa contra gentiles, Book Two: Creation, trans. J.F. Anderson, (Garden City, NY.: Doubleday, 1955), 53 [4], 156. 28. ———, Commentary, VII.L.3: C 1313, 506–7. 29. ———, On Being and Essence, 1, 28. 30. ———, Commentary, VII. L.9: C 1467–69, 556. 31. ———, On Being and Essence, 1, 26–7. 32. ———, Disputed Questions on the Power of God, q7 a2: reply obj.9. in J.F.Anderson, ed. An Introduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas, 22. 33. ———,Commentary, I. L.10: C 154, 64. 34. ———, Summa theologica, trans. A. Pegis, (New York:The Modern Library, 1948), I q44 a3 obj.2, 238. 35. ———, Commentary, I.L.10: C 158, 65–6; ———, Summa theologica, I q84 a2, 380–83. 36. ———, On Being and Essence, 4, 42. 37. ———,On Being and Essence, 2, 35–36. 38. Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, trans. Pears and McGuinness (London:Routledge & Kegan Paul,1961), 3.23, 23; 2.021–2.0211, 11. 39. Plato, Timaeus, in B. Jowett, trans. The Dialogues of Plato (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1953), vol. III, 28a-29a, 716. 40. ———, Summa theologica, ed. Pegis, I q15 a2, 164. 41. ———, Summa theologica I q15 a2, 164. 42. Aristotle, Metaphysics, trans. W.D.Ross, in Richard McKeon, ed.The Basic Works of Aristotle, (New York: Random House, 1941), 1059b8, 851. 43. A. E. Taylor, Plato: the Man and his Work, (New York: Meridian, 1958), 356. 44. Aristotle, Metaphysics, 1059b1–9, 851. 45. Aquinas, Commentary, I.L.14: C 222, 91–2. 46. ———, Commentary, I.L.14: C 222, 91–2. 47. ———, Commentary, I.L.14: C 223, 92 48. Aristotle, Metaphysics, 990b 6–7, 706. 49. Aquinas, Commentary, I.L.14: C 221–222, 91–2. 50. ———, Commentary, VII. L5: C 1370,524. 51. Aristotle, Metaphysics, 991a, 707–08. 52. ———, Metaphysics, 991a 9–26, 707–08. 53. Aquinas, Commentary, I. L.14: C 223, 92. 54. ———, Summa theologiae I-II q93, a1, 629. 55. Aquinas, Disputed Questions on Truth, in J.F. Anderson, ed. An Introduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas, q21 a1, 75. 56. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, q21 a1, 75–6. 57. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, q21 a1, 77. 58. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, q21 a1, 77–8 59. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, q21 a1, 77.

88

Chapter Two

60. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, q21 a2 reply obj.8, 85. 61. Aristotle, Metaphysics, 996a 29. 62. Aquinas, Disputed Questions on Truth, in J.F. Anderson, ed. An introduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas, q21 a2 reply obj.4, 82. 63. ———, Summa theologica, I q16 a4, 174–175. 64. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, q21 a2, 83. 65. ———, Disputed Questions On the Power of God, in J. F. Anderson, ed., An Introduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas, q7 a2 reply obj.9, 22.

Chapter Three

Truth

TWO DEFINITIONS OF CORRESPONDENCE Truth in Aquinas is either the conformity of mind to thing or the conformity of thing to mind. That is why, following Isaac Israeli, Aquinas defines truth as the adequation of thought and thing and not either as the conformity of thought to thing or of thing to thought. Placing the connective ‘and’ in the definition makes the definition applicable to truth under either aspect.1 It allows the relation of conformity to run in either direction. But inserting the preposition ‘to’ between ‘thought’ and ‘thing’ disallows that reciprocity. The definition is then too narrow to catch truth under both aspects. Truth as the conformity of thought to thing might be called the realist aspect of truth. For under it truth is the conformity of our judgments to what is independent of our minds. If the latter is called the independently real, it can be said that for Aquinas whenever there is conformity of our judgments to the independently real there is truth. Under this aspect, truth resides in mind and not in things. It is our judgments that are true when and only when they mirror the world. My judgment that grass is green is true just because it corresponds to a fact, i.e. the fact that grass is green. My statement to the effect that grass is green, where by ‘statement’ it is meant the assertive use of a sentence, is called true in the view of Aquinas only secondarily speaking, i.e. only because it expresses the true judgment that grass is green.2 Truth as the conformity of thing to thought might be called the idealist aspect of truth. For here the measure of truth is thought and not thing. This is not to be understood along Kantian lines. Aquinas would not have endorsed Kant’s Copernican revolution. Nor is it to be construed as being idealist in the sense of being an Hegelian or coherentist theory of truth. Instead, by saying 89

90

Chapter Three

that truth is sometimes the conformity of thing to thought Aquinas means either one of three things: i) that artifacts are called true because they conform to ideal models in the minds of artists or crafts-persons or ii) that natural things are called true because they conform to the Ideas of those things in God’s mind and iii) that words are called true because they conform to the beliefs of the speaker or writer. As to the latter, suppose that I say what is true while believing it to be false. Then what I say is propositionally true but morally false. In any case, i) is practical truth, ii) is ontological truth and iii) is moral truth. These three truths consist in the conformity of the outer to the inner or of thing to mind, whereas the truth of judgment consists in the conformity of the inner to the outer or of mind to thing. Ontological truth or the theory of divine Ideas is a dominant theme in St. Augustine, St. Anselm, and St. Bonaventure. It is ultimately traced to Plotinus for whom natural things are modeled after their eternal ideas in Nous, the first emanation from the One. History aside, the point is that for Aquinas truth is in mind either a) as conformed to the real or b) as that to which the real conforms. The former is the truth of judgments while the latter is either the truth of things, natural or artifactual, or moral truth.

A NOMINALIST OBJECTION Nominalist defenders of the correspondence theory would object that Aquinas’s account of correspondence is too broad. The relation of correspondence does not run in both directions but only in one. Following Aristotle, they say that of the various referents of ‘true,’ only one of them, i.e. a statement or a judgment, is called true in a straightforward sense. Artifacts and natural things are called true only in a derived sense i.e. only because true statements can be made about them. ‘True’ is thus what Aristotle calls equivocal pros hen. Gold is called true because it is the ground of the true statement or judgment, “That is gold.” An artifact is called true only because, once again, it is the ground of a true statement or judgment that either is or can be made about it. When an art-expert picks out the real Mona Lisa from various reproductions, he might refer to it as “the true one.” It is so called by him only because it is the ground of the true statement, “That is the Mona Lisa.” Which one of these definitions of correspondence is correct, the broader one of Aquinas or the narrower one of Aristotle? Is something called false gold only because it elicits the false judgment, “That is gold” or is something called false gold simply because it fails to conform to the idea of gold?3 From what was said, this comes down to asking whether ‘false’ in expressions like ‘false gold,’ ‘false teeth’ ‘false bottom’ etc. is equivocal pros hen or not.

Truth

91

The narrower definition is consistent with nominalism while the broader one is not. To say that something is called false gold only because it tends to cause the false judgment, “That is gold” carries no commitment to universals either in re or in mente. But to say that something is called false gold because it fails to conform to the standard of goldness implies that universals exist at least in minds. That is why Aristotle’s device of pros hen equivocity might be viewed as a minimalist tactic under the strategy of Ockham’s Razor. The rule that defines the device might be called the rule of derivative predication (DP). Thus, DP For any predicate G, G is attributed to x derivatively or pros hen in some context c just when the sense of G in c includes some relation in which x stands to the primary referent of G

In the expressions ‘false gold and ‘true diamond’ ‘false’ and ‘true’ are under the narrower definition construed as exemplifying DP. Something is called false gold only because it elicits the false judgment, “That is gold” and something is called a true diamond only because it elicits the true judgment, “That is a diamond.”

THE OBJECTION ANSWERED To return, then, to the question, is the narrower or the broader definition of correspondence correct? Is something called false gold because it elicits the false judgment “That is gold” or is it called false gold simply because it fails to conform to the idea of gold? A clue to the answer comes from noting the restrictiveness of DP. Under DP ‘true’ cannot be attributed to any non-judgment y whatsoever without including in its sense some relation in which y stands to a true judgment. Counterexamples to this, though, are easily cited. Not all non-judgments are called false only because, masquerading as something else, they elicit a false judgment about that non-judgment. Suppose Phidias makes a false start on the way to making the Athene. When he tells friends that the botched attempt they see is a false start on the way to the true Athene, everyone understands what is meant. The start is called false simply because it fails to conform to Phidias’ ideal model. Otherwise he should not have abandoned it. It is not called false because it elicits the false judgment or statement, “This is the Athene.” For no one but Phidias is in a position to make that judgment since

92

Chapter Three

no one but Phidias is acquainted with Phidias’s ideal model. Nor would Phidias himself make that judgment since he evidently is acquainted with his own model. Clearly, the start is called false simply and straightforwardly because it fails to match Phidias’s ideal pattern. But if that is so, then as against DP, it cannot be said that, when called false, any non-statement whatsoever includes in its sense the idea of a false statement. But since DP would hold if ‘false’ (and ‘true’) were equivocal pros hen which apply strictly to statements alone, it follows that ‘true’ and ‘false’ are not equivocal pros hen terms which apply primarily to statements or judgments and derivatively to everything else. DP is just too narrow to catch all cases in which ‘false’ (and hence ‘true’) are attributed to non-statements or non-judgments. But in that case Aquinas’s broader definition of correspondence is defended.

TRUTH AND KNOWLEDGE If on its realist side truth is the conformity of mind to thing, how does Aquinas distinguish truth from knowledge? For knowledge too, according to him, is the conformity of mind to thing. As might be expected, his answer is that while knowing that something is the case entails truth, it does not work the other way around. One can evidently truly believe that something is the case without knowing that it is the case. And this belief is true in the straightforward sense of the term. In this sense is truth independent of knowledge. However, one’s knowing that something is the case does entail one’s truly judging it to be the case. Yet truth is not entirely independent of knowledge, in the view of Aquinas. For it is a condition of true belief which is not knowledge that the believer is acquainted with, and in that sense knows, the subject of the belief. My true belief that Jones is a millionaire presupposes that I am acquainted with Jones, and my true belief that dogs have a keener sense of smell than humans presupposes that I know, however inchoately, what dogs are. In each case this knowledge is not knowledge that but knowledge what, i.e. simple apprehension or acquaintance. Aquinas characterizes these cases of true belief which fall short of being knowledge that as cases of true knowledge. Here, ‘true’ refers to the truth of the belief or judgment while ‘knowledge’ refers not to knowledge that but to the simple apprehension or acquaintance which the believer has with the subject of the belief or judgment. To true knowledge Aquinas opposes false knowledge. This is no contradiction in terms. Like true knowledge, false knowledge also occurs only in judgment. It occurs only when I have some non-judgmental knowledge of

Truth

93

what a thing is but make a mistake about one of its properties.4 All judgments presuppose and include this non-judgmental knowledge on the part of the judger. This is the apprehension of simple essences. In this function intellect is never false. We either apprehend a simple essence or we are entirely ignorant of it.5 Simple apprehension is thus like what Russell called knowledge by acquaintance.6 You are either acquainted with green or, like a blind person, you are altogether ignorant of it. There can no more be false simple apprehension than there can be false acquaintance. Falsity enters in only when, in judgment, mind moves from the sphere of essence to that of existence. Here, mind does not deal just with essence, but with the composite of essence and existence. For unlike simple apprehension which intends essence, judgment intends existence. And when it does do this in judgment, mind can be wrong about the contingent accidents of a thing, i.e. those accidents that arise out of a thing’s relations to other things in actual existence. And since the latter are other than its proper object, essence, mind can be mistaken about them. In any case, an example of how what Aquinas calls false knowledge occurs is as follows. Suppose I have seen many swans over a period of years and on that basis judge (falsely) that all swans are white. Aquinas would say that it is a condition of my even falsely judging that all swans are white that I know or am acquainted with the simple essence of a swan. It is just that it is not on that essence that I focus. Unlike the simple apprehension of swan, the false judgment, “All swans are white” has as its object not the essence swan per se but that essence as mixed with the accidental property of being white. It focuses not on swan simply but on the composite of white swan. It has as its object not just swan but swan as mixed with existence or facticity. For a swan’s being white is evidently not due to the simple essence of swan (otherwise there are no black swans) but to existential factors that are accidental to essence. It is similar to the case of sight that sees not just white when it sees the submerged oar but white as mixed with a certain bent shape on which it focuses and which is accidental to white. In any event, focusing on swan as white instead of on some white thing as swan, I go beyond my simple apprehension of swan. In so doing I set up the possibility of falsely judging that all swans are white. Due to my focus on the accidental composite as opposed to the essential simple, I run the risk of taking the accidental for the essential. And I do actually confuse the two when I judge that all swans are white. By analogy, due to its focus on the shape of the colored oar as opposed to its color, sight induces the false judgment that the oar is bent. All the same, the irony is that this false judgment “All swans are white” (as well as every other false judgment) presupposes and includes knowledge of simple essences. And that is why Aquinas consistently speaks of false judgment as being false knowledge.7 Just as every evil is founded in some

94

Chapter Three

good since evil is a privation in something that is good, so too is every falsity founded in some truth. For false judgment is a privation in some mind that truly apprehends those simple essences that figure in every false (and true) judgment.8 Thus, suppose that I judge that condors nest in valleys. Here the logical combination of subject and predicate fails to conform to any real combination of substance and accident. As a result, the judgment is false. But even this false judgment presupposes knowledge on my part. It presupposes knowledge of condors by simple apprehension. All false judgment presupposes some knowledge of the thing about which the judgment is made. With Royce Aquinas insists that one can be wrong only about what one is acquainted with, however imprecise that acquaintance might be.9 By the same token, whenever one judges that S is not P one removes from the thing signified by the subject some form that is signified by the predicate.10 In so doing one judges that the thing signified by the subject fails to conform to the form that is signified by the predicate. When the judgment is true, then the thing signified by the subject really does fail to conform to the form signified by the predicate. And then one not only knows something about S when one judges that S is not P but one also knows the likeness of the thing signified by S to the idea one has of it, i.e. the idea of its not being P. But when the judgment is false, then the thing signified by the subject does not fail to conform to the form signified by the predicate as the judgment specifies. And then one not only fails to know something about S when one judges that S is not P but one also fails to know the likeness of the thing signified by S to the idea one has of it, i.e. the idea of its not being P. For the judgment being false, there is no such likeness to begin with. Even so, one is conscious of the apparent conformity of the thing to one’s concept of it in the false negative judgment S is not P just as one is in the case of the false positive judgment S is P. In the sense of the conformity of mind to thing, then, truth is strictly speaking found only in judgment.11 And it is this judgmental or propositional truth that fails to entail knowledge-that, as was said. It is only in a secondary sense that truth is found in the first apprehension we have of a thing or in the sense perception we have of a thing. We can in a manner of speaking call concepts or percepts true when they conform to a thing, but strictly speaking it is only judgments or propositions that are called true. Thus, suppose that for the first time I am acquainted with condors. This is not truth in the strict sense, even though it is a kind of knowledge, i.e. knowledge by acquaintance. For in the mere acquaintance or simple apprehension of a thing I make no claim about how a thing really is and it is only when I make such claims that the question

Truth

95

of truth or falsity strictly speaking arises. And making claims about how things really are occurs only in judgments. At the outset, my knowledge of things, say of condors, is vague and imprecise. It is knowledge by acquaintance or simple apprehension. This is the first act of the mind. But suppose that my knowledge of condors increases so that I come to know more about them. This new knowledge might include, say, the knowledge that condors nest on high cliffs. This added knowledge of condors is had only in my judgment to that effect. Thus, in addition to and later than our first apprehension of a thing is our knowledge about that thing. This second act of the mind is achieved in and through judgments or propositions. And it is in these judgments, as was said, that truth in the sense of the conformity of mind to thing is strictly speaking found.12 Not that it is the act of judging itself that is true but rather the complex of that act together with the state of affairs that is judged. When I judge that condors nest on high cliffs, what is true is neither the state of affairs of condors nesting on high cliffs taken as such nor the mental act of judging taken as such. It is the composite of the two. Otherwise truth is falsely predicated of the real and of the merely psychological, respectively. In any case, when through the logical combination of subject and predicate in judgment I affirm some combination in reality, then for the first time is something (i.e. the judgment) properly speaking true when truth means the conformity of mind to thing. All other cases of such conformity, be they the conformity of idea to essence or of sense to object sensed, are true in a secondary sense of the term. Moreover, the real combination that true judgment reflects might be one of form and matter, as, say, the composite of condorhood in this matter. Or it might be, as in “Condors nest on high cliffs,” the composite of accident and substance.13 In either case, truth is present only when I mirror these real combinations in and through the judgments, “This is a condor” and “Condors nest on high cliffs,” respectively.

KNOWLEDGE OF TRUTH AS PERFECTING INTELLECT Now as with anything else, intellect is perfected when it actually knows something as over against only potentially knowing it. For the actual is prior to the potential. At the same time, Aquinas states that truth is the end of the intellect and the end of a thing is its good or perfection. It follows that the intellect is perfected when it has truth and that its having truth is simultaneously a state of knowledge. Truth, then, is always knowledge of some sort, though not, to be sure, always knowledge-that. For as was said, Aquinas recognizes

96

Chapter Three

the difference between mere true belief that P and knowledge that P. Truth in any sense of the term implies knowledge in some sense of the term (i.e. knowledge-what or knowledge-that) and truth in some specific sense of the term, say, a true judgment or a true idea, implies knowledge in some sense of the term. By the same token, knowledge in any sense of the term, be it knowledge-what or knowledge-that, implies truth in some sense of the term. Thus, knowledge-what and knowledge-that imply the truth of ideas and the truth of judgment, respectively. And knowledge in some sense of the term implies truth in some specific sense of the term. Thus knowledge of essence or of what something is implies the truth of ideas and knowledge of fact or knowledge-that implies the truth of judgment. From all this it follows that the end or perfection of the intellect is not just truth but truth as known. And that is just what Aquinas states.14 For the intellect is true in a straightforward sense of ‘true’ when it has true belief. Yet since this mere true belief falls short of being knowledge and it is better for the intellect to know than merely to believe, then it is not just truth that is the end and good of the intellect but truth as known. This knowledge of truth is achieved, says Aquinas, only in judgment and only in those judgments in which the judger knows that the object of judgment conforms to his own idea of it. I have knowledge of truth and not just truth when in judging that S is P I know that what S signifies conforms to my idea of it in the predicate P. Thus, in truth as known, the mind knows its own conformity to the thing known. This occurs only in knowledge-that and not either in sense perception or in simple apprehension.15 Thus, suppose that I judge that a whole is greater than any one of its parts. Then, says Aquinas, I not only know this but in knowing it I know the conformity of the thing known, i.e. a whole, to my own idea of it. In short, I have knowledge of truth. By contrast, suppose that I judge truly but without knowledge that Jones has left town. Though my judgment is straightforwardly and strictly speaking true, I fail to apprehend the conformity between Jones and my idea about him. Thus, while truth is in my intellect knowledge of truth or truth as known is not. Mind is perfected in another way too in judgment. For in the view of Aquinas true judgment has the function of amplifying the knowledge of a thing that is gained by simple apprehension. In so doing it is perfective of simple apprehension. To spell it out, it belongs to the nature of a material thing, says Aquinas, to exist in some individual.16 Thus, it belongs to the nature of a stone to exist in an individual stone. But in simple apprehension the nature of a material thing is known as abstracted from existence in an individual thing. In simply apprehending the nature of stone, I abstract from the existence it has in this or that individual stone. Since, then, it belongs to the

Truth

97

nature of material things to be in individual things and since that is not how those natures are known in simple apprehension, it follows that the mind needs to return to the phantasms or images of such things in order to have more complete and accurate knowledge of material natures. But this return to the phantasm is accomplished by judgment.17 In judging that this object is a stone the mind overcomes the abstractness of the simple apprehension of stone and predicates that nature of an individual. In so doing it knows stone according to its nature since it now knows stone as existing in a particular stone.18

TRUTH AND MIND Since, then, truth in the sense of conformity to thing is always for Aquinas a conformity of mind to thing, it follows that truth in that sense is in mind. Moreover, since for him truth in that same sense is strictly speaking predicable of judgments and judgments, as beings of reason, are in minds, it follows that truth is in minds. Finally, that truth is in mind and not in things is shown by falsity.19 Being contraries, truth and falsity are found in the same thing. But since falsity is in mind and not in things, so too is truth. That falsity is in minds is shown by its being a privation. Aquinas holds that like evil, blindness, or deafness, falsity is not either a thing in its own right or even some real accident of a thing. It is instead the absence of some character or relation in a thing which, if present, would make it better than it is. Intellect is false just when its judgment fails to conform to the facts, i.e. when it lacks that conformity which, if present, would bring it more in line with its end. For its end is truth as known and truth as known includes truth and excludes falsehood. Thus, falsity is the privation in mind of something which mind naturally ought to have. Whenever one judges that S is P one claims that the thing signified by the subject conforms to the predicate. And since a predicate signifies a form of the thing as apprehended by the mind, then in judging that S is P one affirms that the thing signified by the subject conforms to one’s idea of it in mente. When the judgment is true, then the thing signified by the subject really does conform to the predicate, though one knows that conformity only in those judgments that convey knowledge of truth or truth as known. But when the judgment is false the thing signified by the subject does not, of course, conform to our idea of it in the predicate. In false judgment, therefore, there is no secondorder knowledge of the likeness of the thing known to the idea of it in the mind since there is no such likeness to begin with. Nonetheless, even in falsely judging that S is P I not only assert something about S but I also allege that the

98

Chapter Three

thing signified by S conforms to how I understand it in and through the predicate P. I claim not only that S has the property P but also (and because of that) that the thing signified by S conforms to the way I understand it.20 Thus, even in false judgment, says Aquinas, the difference between judging and sensing is clear. A particular sense perception may be illusory. But the sense power in question is neither conscious of nor does it affirm that the thing sensed conforms to the way it senses it. But even when one falsely judges that S is P one is simultaneously conscious of one’s own false knowledge i.e. of the alleged conformity of the thing to one’s own idea of it.21 Thus, false judgment claims second-order or reflective knowing just as true judgment does. In any event, the following passages indicate the views of Aquinas i) that truth in us is not just first-order knowledge of the thing known but also second-order knowledge of the likeness of the thing known to our concept of it and ii) that judgment is the bearer of this truth. Contrasting simple apprehension and judgment Aquinas says, And although the intellect has within itself a likeness of the things known according as it forms concepts of incomplex things, it does not for that reason make a judgment about this likeness. This occurs only when it combines or separates. For when the intellect forms a concept of mortal rational animal, it has within itself a likeness of man; but it does not for that reason know that it has this likeness, since it does not judge that “Man is a mortal rational animal.” There is truth and falsity, then, only in this second operation of intellect, according to which it not only possesses a likeness of the thing known but also reflects on this likeness by knowing it and by making a judgment about it. Hence it is evident from this that truth is not found in things but only in the mind, and that depends upon combination and separation.22 And once again, . . . For although sight has the likeness of a visible thing, yet it does not know the comparison which exists between the thing seen and that which it itself is apprehending concerning it. But the intellect can know its own conformity with the intelligible thing; yet it does not apprehend it by knowing of a thing what a thing is. When, however, it judges that a thing corresponds to the form which it apprehends about the thing, then it knows and expresses truth. This it does by composing and dividing: for in every proposition it either applies to, or removes from, the thing signified by the subject some form signified by the predicate. . . .23

JUDGMENT AND REASON VERSUS INTUITIVE KNOWLEDGE Moreover, Aquinas thinks that we require both judgment and reasoning as compensation for and as aids to our inadequate intuitive or apprehensive

Truth

99

power. It is due to the weakness of the intellectual light of our understanding in apprehending the essences of things that our intellects need to function judgmentally and discursively.24 True, we know something of the essence of a material thing in simple apprehension. But our intellectual intuition is limited. Unlike God or angels, we cannot grasp all at once everything that is virtually contained in those essences.25 We can only do this in stages and by acts other than intuition or simple apprehension. In and through these follow-up acts, i.e. the composing and dividing of judgment and the deduction of reason, we gradually advance and perfect the imperfect knowledge that is first had in simple apprehension.26 Thus, knowledge acquired by apprehension is perfected by knowledge gained by composing and dividing in true judgment.27 And the knowledge gained by true judgment is in turn perfected by the knowledge achieved when from these same true judgments true conclusions are drawn by reason. Thus, . . . the human intellect does not acquire perfect knowledge of a thing by first apprehension; but it first apprehends something of the thing, such as its quiddity, which is the first and proper object of the intellect; and then it understands the properties, accidents, and various dispositions affecting the essence. Thus it necessarily relates one thing to another by composition and division; and from one composition and division it necessarily proceeds to another, and this is reasoning.28

SIMPLE APPREHENSION, JUDGMENT AND REASON COMPARED Finally, since for Aquinas the perfection of a thing is its good and the good of anything is its end, it can be said that true judgment is the end and good of simple apprehension even as reason is the end and good of true judgment. As apprehension is for the sake of true judgment, and true judgment is for the sake of sound reasoning, it follows that the crowning perfection of the human mind consists in its discursive function, in its correctly drawing conclusions from true premises. This is reflected in Aquinas’s definition of a human being. In any definition the difference is taken from form where ‘form’ has the sense of the end, good or perfection of the definiendum. Thus, animal is defined as the sentient organism because sentience is form in the sense of the entelechy or perfection of animal. Going by this view of definition, Aquinas defines a human being as the rational animal. But by ‘rational’ here Aquinas has something rather specific in mind. He does not mean by it simply having the power of abstract thought. ‘Rational’ for him is taken from ‘reason’ and reason in Aquinas always refers to the discursive power, i.e. the power of deducing conclusions from principles. To define a human being as the rational animal is therefore

100

Chapter Three

to say that the power of reasoning, i.e. of advancing from principles to the conclusions that are implied by those principles, is the end and perfection of persons taken just as persons.29

JUDGMENT AND EXISTENCE From the fact that it belongs to the nature of material things to exist in individuals and from the fact that this proper existential knowledge of material natures is achieved only when mind returns to the phantasm in judgment, it follows in the view of Aquinas that all true judgments affirm existence. This also follows from the status of judgment as second-order knowledge of the conformity of a thing taken as subject to our concept of it in the predicate. When I judge that Washington defeated the British at Yorktown, I claim that Washington conforms to the idea I have of him as being the one who won that battle. And when I judge that Washington did not sign the Declaration of Independence I affirm that our First President conforms to the idea I have of him as being a non-signer of that document. What we always do in judgment is to say that some particular thing (or things) accords with the way we understand that thing in and through our abstract concept of it. Thus, all judgment is a comparison whereby we affirm that some thing conforms to our concept of it. When we do this, the thing we compare to our concept of it becomes subject and the concept to which we compare it becomes predicate. Thus, a subject is not the thing itself but the thing taken as related to our concept of it. And a predicate is not the mere abstract concept itself but the concept to which some particular thing (or things) is said to conform. By this comparison of subject to predicate we overcome the abstractness that the latter has as a mere concept by affirming that some particular thing (or things) exemplifies that concept. Concepts thus cease to be the merely abstract ideas of simple apprehension when they are put to use and become predicates of subjects. For then we affirm that some particular thing (or things) conforms to those concepts. That is why scholastic philosophers say that judgments affirm existence whereas concepts do not. Even when Smith judges that the crow is black where the subject-name is a noun and not a proper name, the object of Smith’s judgment is still not some separated universal crow but any and all particular crows. Otherwise it is not a function of judgment to overcome the abstraction of simple apprehension by returning to the phantasm, thereby knowing material natures as they truly are, i.e. as existing in individuals. Otherwise too, it is not the function of judgment to select some particular thing (or things) and compare it to our concept of it, thereby once again overcoming the abstractness of simple apprehension.30

Truth

101

REAL AND LOGICAL COMPOSITION This reference to existence is in fact reflected, Aquinas thinks, in the contrast between the real composition of a thing and one of its properties and the logical composition of subject and predicate in a judgment. The former is a relation of a whole to one of its parts. And since no whole is its part, the two are diverse. That is why it is senseless to say that the crow is blackness. For blackness signifies a part and no whole is said to be one of its parts. But the latter signifies the identity of those components in the existing thing. That is why we can sensibly say that the crow is black. For in saying that the crow is black we do not predicate a part of a whole as we nonsensically do when we say that the crow is blackness. We mean to assert instead that the crow is something having blackness. Here the copula signifies identity and not diversity. In so doing it has existential import since it asserts that there is something in which crow and blackness are united. Says Aquinas, . . . Now in a material thing there is a twofold composition. First, there is the composition of form with matter. To this corresponds that composition of the intellect whereby the universal whole is predicated of its part: for the genus is derived from common matter, while the difference that completes the species is derived from the form, and the particular from individual matter. The second composition is of accident with subject; and to this composition corresponds that composition of the intellect whereby accident is predicated of subject, as when we say the man is white. Nevertheless, the composition of the intellect differs from the composition of things; for the components in the thing are diverse, whereas the composition of the intellect is a sign of the identity of the components. For the above composition of the intellect was not such as to assert that man is whiteness; but the assertion, the man is white, means that the man is something having whiteness. In other words, man is identical in subject with the being having whiteness. It is the same with the composition of form and matter. For animal signifies that which has a sensitive nature; rational, that which has an intellectual nature; man, that which has both; and Socrates, that which has all these things together with individual matter. And so, according to this kind of identity our intellect composes one thing with another by means of predication.31

OPEN AND CLOSED CONCEPTS Speaking of predicates and predication in Aquinas, one can say that a predicate might be either a genus or a species. You can say that humans are animals or that Plato is human. But you evidently cannot say that humans are the set of animals or that Plato is the set of humans. From this some might conclude that a predicate is not just another name for a set.

102

Chapter Three

Spelled out, the argument is this: 1) ‘Animals’ and ‘human’ are predicated of humans and Plato, respectively. 2) But ‘animals’ and ‘human’ are a genus and a species, respectively. 3) So what is predicated of humans and Plato respectively here are a genus and a species. 4) But the set of animals and the set of humans are not, respectively, predicated of humans and Plato. Therefore, 5) the genus ‘animals’ and the species ‘human’ are not, respectively, just other names for the set of animals and the set of humans. The mistake here is in 1). 1) is false because it confuses the vehicle of predication with the object predicated. ‘Animals’ and ‘human’ are admittedly a genus and a species, respectively. But it is not ‘animals’ or ‘human’ in that order that are predicated of humans and Plato. It is animals and human. Just because you use ‘animals’ and ‘human’ to predicate animals and human of humans and Plato, respectively, it does not follow nor is it the case that ‘animals’ and ‘human’ are what are predicated, again respectively, of humans and Plato. ‘Animals’ and ‘human’ are the vehicles of predication while animals and human are the objects of predication. Recall the scholastic distinction between id quod and id quo. ‘Animals’ and ‘human’ are the id quo (that by which) animal and human are predicated of humans and of Plato. But animals and humans are id quod (that which) are predicated of humans and Plato, respectively. Yet despite the failure of this argument for 5), 5) is nonetheless true. A predicate is not just another name for a set. A predicate is necessarily of something as its signatum. The predicate ‘human’ is of or about the property human. In this a predicate is like an idea which is always of some ideatum. By contrast, a set is not of something as its signatum. True, a set is necessarily the set of something. But the ‘of’ here is genitive and not intentional. What follows the ‘of’ in ‘set of’ belongs to a set as geese belong to a flock. Thus, ‘set of animals’ is like ‘flock of geese.’ But what predicates are of or about does not belong to predicates. They are not to predicates as geese are to a flock but as external signata are to their signs. That is why predicates but not sets can be said to have sense and reference. For only signs have sense and reference. True, sets can be signified by signs. But unlike predicates they are not themselves signs. Exactly how predicates signify comes out only by understanding the nature of the subject-predicate tie. The latter becomes clear when two puzzles of predication are raised and solved. The puzzles and their solutions come from Aquinas.32 The answers to both define the copula or subject-predicate tie. In so doing they shed light on what figures in that relation, including the notion of a predicate. The first puzzle is a dilemma. One might name it the dilemma of predicates. The lion that is predicated of Leo is either particular or universal. In ei-

Truth

103

ther case predication is pre-empted. No particular is predicated of a subject. And if it is the universal lion that is predicated of Leo, then the particular thing Leo is said to be a universal. If Leo is a lion and lion is a universal then the absurdity follows that Leo is a universal.33 Yet we do truly say that Leo is a lion. How is that possible? Aquinas escapes the dilemma by recourse to the idea of an essence taken absolutely, i.e. taken apart from any mode of existence. To spell it out, the ‘lion’ that is here predicated of Leo is neither particular nor universal.34 True, any thing is either particular or universal but what the predicate ‘lion’ signifies is not a thing. It is lion taken in abstraction from how it is either in particular things like Leo or in universal things like concepts. By analogy, suppose that the same person Jones both jogs in the morning and golfs in the afternoon. Just as the jogging-mode and the golfing-mode are accidental to Jones who is susceptible of taking on either one, so too are the particular and universal modes accidental to lion which can take on either one, depending on whether it exists in re or in mente. It is therefore something neutral between the two just as Jones is something neutral between his two modes. This neutral core is a possible of which Leo and the concept lion are two actuations. It is what Aquinas calls essence. One might approach the second problem by noting the formality of mathematical concepts. Concepts like threeness and triangularity signify those properties to the exclusion of anything that happens to be three or triangular, such as three swans or a triangular kite. That is why they are closed concepts, signifying form alone apart from matter. And just because they are closed (formal) and not open (material) concepts. Taken as cut off from any things that exemplify them, these mathematical concepts denote but do not connote. Triangularity denotes that by which something is a triangle to the exclusion of anything that happens to be triangular. Moreover, they are not just formal but purely formal concepts. That is because matter is not included in their definitions. Suppose, then, that ‘lion,’ by means of which lion is predicated of Leo, signifies lion to the exclusion of those things that are lions. Then, like ‘threeness’ and ‘triangularity,’ ‘lion’ signifies form alone apart from matter. It signifies the property of being a lion as severed from individual lions. To keep the parallelism with threeness and triangularity, call it the concept lionhood. Because it is taken in precision from the things that exemplify it, lionhood denotes without connoting, just as do ‘threeness’ and ‘triangularity.’ The difference is that, unlike ‘threeness’ and ‘triangularity,’ ‘lionhood’ is not a purely formal concept. Matter evidently enters into its definition. What follows from this is that all formal concepts, mathematical or otherwise, are impredicable. They are decent enough concepts. It is just that they

104

Chapter Three

are closed and not open concepts. And just for that reason do they fail to be logical concepts. You can no more say that these swans are threeness or that that object is circularity than you can say that Leo is lionhood. The reason is that, having denotation only, these closed concepts signify a part and not the whole of their subjects. That is because they signify the form of the subject as cut off from its matter. So predicating lionhood of Leo is non-sensical because it says that a whole is one of its parts. The solution is perhaps evident. It is to identify predicates with open and not with closed concepts. Open concepts are the five predicables of classical logic. I refer to genus, species, difference, property and accident. We can say “Leo is a lion” but not “Leo is lionhood.” That is because ‘lion’ is a predicable, in this case a species. Like ‘lionhood,’ the predicate ‘lion’ signifies the form or definition of a lion. But it does so differently. The former signifies it as a part while the latter signifies it as a whole.35 In “Leo is a lion” the predicate ‘lion’ is not severed from the subject that exemplifies it. It inchoately includes it. That is what is meant by saying that predicates connote their subjects. Even as it denotes the form or definition of a lion (which is the same for all lions) the predicate ‘lion’ in “Leo is a lion” connotes the individual Leo. Therefore, ‘lion’ is predicated of Leo without predicating a part of a whole. Just because ‘lion’ includes the whole of what Leo is and ‘lionhood’ does not, ‘lion’ but not ‘lionhood’ is predicable of Leo. What do these solutions tell us about the copula or subject-predicate tie? To answer, note first that these solutions hang on distinguishing sense and reference in predicate terms. In ‘Leo is a lion’ the predicate ‘lion’ denotes a certain objective sense or essence which is found in Leo as well as in Larry, Lester, and every other lion. At the same time it refers by connotation to the whole individual Leo of which the sense or essence lion is a part. That predicates have sense and reference, though, is not primitive but follows the dual function of judgment. Judgment, says Locke, not only keeps two ideas apart but also brings them together.36 In judging that S is P I both distinguish P from S and unite P with S. It is this diversity-in-unity that demands that predicates have sense and reference, respectively. Insofar as I distinguish P from S, P denotes a character which I pull out of the subject for the sake of analysis. The subject from which I extract that sense is, like the predicate, a logical and not a real entity. It is from my idea of some substance and not from the substance itself that I cull the sense or character that is signified by the predicate. Otherwise false judgments go unaccounted for. Thus the copula signifies the relation of a complex idea to some feature that enters into it. Viewed from this standpoint, predicates are separated from their subjects by the device of abstraction. They are extracted from their subjects by mind in its effort understand those subjects. The ‘is’ here is therefore the ‘is’ of

Truth

105

analysis. To use the terminology of the tradition, it is the ‘is’ of essence as opposed to the ‘is’ of existence. But insofar as I unite P with S, P refers to the same individual to which the subject refers. The same real individual that is named by the subject is referred to by the predicate. This device of referential identity overcomes and counterbalances the device of abstraction. It reflects mind’s intent to say that the character signified by the predicate is in reality united to and never separated from the individual that is named by the subject. So here the copula is the ‘is’ of synthesis or what the tradition calls the ‘is’ of existence as opposed to the ‘is’ of essence. Taking both functions of judgment together—the analytic and the synthetic—is equivalent to taking both devices together, abstraction and referential identity. Under that consideration it is then true to say that the copula-relation in any subject-predicate judgment is a logical identity-in-difference of subject and predicate reflecting, in case the judgment is true, the real identity-in-difference of substance and property.

MIND, JUDGMENT AND GOODNESS One final point about the relation of true judgment, mind and goodness in Aquinas. As judgment is the end of simple apprehension so too is truth the end of mind. From what has been just said, it is more precise to say that mind aims at truth in the sense of true conclusions. And since end for him has the nature of good, it follows that truth in the sense of true conclusions is the good of mind. Mind is to truth as appetite or tendency is to that which fulfills, satisfies or completes that appetite or tendency. For always in Aquinas is it the case that good is the terminus of a natural tendency or appetite. For example, since matter naturally tends to form, form is the good of matter; and since potentiality naturally tends to act, act is the good of potentiality. Since, then, good is what fulfills a natural tendency, any such tendency is called good not because it is itself good but because it is related to good as that which tends toward good. In other words, since good is in the object, tendency toward that object is called good only because the object is good. Thus, a person’s desire is called good in the moral sense only because what he or she desires is good. Good thus passes on from the object to the tendency. Our intellect, then, is called good only because it tends toward its good or object which is truth. But with truth it works the other way. Truth does not pass on from objects to something else but from something else to objects. Since truth is in the mind and not in the object, objects are called true not because they are in themselves true but because they are related to a mind that is true. Recall that natural objects are called true only because they either measure our

106

Chapter Three

minds or are measured by God’s mind. Truth thus passes on from mind to objects.37

ONTOLOGICAL TRUTH AND PRACTICAL TRUTH As was said at the outset, mind as conformed to things in judgment is the realist aspect of truth. It is truth in mind taken as conformed to things. But Aquinas holds that truth in mind is also something to which things conform or are conformable. Under this idealist aspect of truth, it is thing or being that is said to be conformed or to be conformable to mind and not the other way around. Here, the point of reference and measure of truth is mind and not thing.38 Viewed from this angle, ‘true’ applies to things in reference to or as ordained to mind in two ways. First, things are looked on as being conformable to our minds. One thing that means is that they can be known by us. And that is because the same structure that exists really in them can also exist intentionally in our minds. In that way are things said to be conformable to our minds. Thus, Fido is conformable to my mind in that the same dogness that exists particularly in Fido can exist universally in mind when I come to know what Fido is. In that way can it be said that Fido is conformable to my mind. Or again, the real composite or fact of Fido’s sleeping on his mat is conformable to my mind in that the same complex or state of affairs of Fido’s sleeping on his mat can exist intentionally in the judgment I make to that effect. Second, things are considered as being conformed to God’s mind in that they exemplify divine Ideas. Thus, any particular creature exemplifies the pattern or Idea of it that exists eternally and ante rem in the mind of God. To the extent that dogness in Fido is modeled after the timeless Idea of Dogness in God, Fido is conformed to God’s infinite mind even as he is conformable to our own finite minds. Third, artifacts are considered as conformed to the minds of artists when they exemplify the mental models that are present in the minds of those artists. These three ways in which things are true by dint of being ordained to mind, be it ours or God’s, are both the same and different. They are the same because the things in question are in each case called true in an improper and secondary sense of the term. For properly speaking truth is only in mind and not in things. They are (improperly) called true only because they are related to something that properly is true, i.e mind. It is analogous to the case of food or environment which are called healthy only because they are related to what is really healthy, i.e. animals. And they are in a secondary sense called true because they are exemplifications of something else as exemplar or model.

Truth

107

But they are different in that when things are called true because they are conformable to our minds, the relation of things to mind is one of measure to measured, exemplar to exemplatum. For as was said, the real composition of matter and form or of substance and accident is the exemplary cause of the logical composition in judgment of subject and predicate. But when things are called true because they conform to the Ideas of them in God’s mind, then the relation of things to intellect is one of measured to measure, of modeled to model. But whether things are called true because they are conformable to mind or because they are conformed to either a human mind or God’s mind, they are called true only because they are related to something else in which alone truth is properly found, namely, mind.

CATEGORIES OF TRUTH AND THEIR RELATIONS The relations between proper and improper truth on the one hand and primary and secondary truth on the other are as follows.39 All that is primarily true is properly true but not all that is properly true is primarily true. Our judgments are properly speaking true but, since their truth is caused by things, they are not true in the primary sense. But truth in God’s mind is found both properly and primarily. For here the subject of truth is mind and not thing. What is more, truth in God’s mind is cause or measure without in any sense being caused or measured. Analogously, this practical or productive truth in God is also found in human beings. It is found in them in their capacity as artists or crafts-persons. The ideas or archetypes of artists, after which they model their artifacts, correspond to the divine Ideas, after which God creates natural things. Such models are true in the proper sense since they are found in mind. But they are not true in the primary sense. True, the creative ideas of artists are not modeled after some real exemplar. Otherwise they are not creative in the human sense but mere copies of other things. But this practical truth in the mind of a human artist falls short of truth in the mind of the Creator. That is because it shares the status of the mind on which it depends and from which it issues. And that mind, the human mind, is dependent and secondary. For it is caused by and modeled after the Idea of the human mind in the mind of God. It follows that the humanly creative ideas of artists and crafts-persons are true in a secondary and not in the primary sense. Finally, while all that is improperly true is secondarily true, not all that is secondarily true is improperly true. As for the former, all that is improperly true is either a natural thing or an artifact. But both are secondarily true since they are caused or measured by mind, divine or human. Therefore, all that is improperly true is secondarily true. As for the latter, our judgments are secondarily true

108

Chapter Three

since they are measured by things. But they are nonetheless properly speaking true since they are found in mind. Aquinas also distinguishes logical (propositional) and ontological truth.40 This is the truth of judgment as opposed to the truth of things. The distinction turns on whether mind is called true because it is measured by a thing or whether a thing is called true because it is measured by a mind.41 The former is logical truth while the latter is ontological truth. Since in either case it is a matter of measured truth and not truth that is measure, whatever is logically or ontologically true is true in a secondary sense. The converse also holds. What is true in a secondary sense is either logically or ontologically true. ‘Logical truth’ in this context does not characterize those truths or judgments which it is self-contradictory to deny. It refers to propositional or judgmental truth. Thus, if some apples are green then the judgment “Some apples are green” is true in the logical sense no less than is “All apples are apples.” As for ontological truth, Aquinas calls natural things true in this sense because they are modeled after mind. Thus, things like tulips and tigers are true in this sense because they exemplify the Ideas of Tulip and Tigerhood in God’s mind. This is not truth that depends on human minds. However, there is a kind of human ontological truth. An artifact such as the Mona Lisa is ontologically true in that it measures up to the model of it in DaVinci’s the mind. All things whatsoever, judgments included, are ontologically true, but judgments alone are logically true. In this connection, Aquinas says that judgments have truth both in the ontological and in the logical sense.42 Besides being true because they measure up to the Idea of a Judgment in God’s mind, some judgments are also true because they jibe with and are measured by the real. To the extent that any judgment conforms to the Idea of it in God’s mind, it is ontologically true. No genuine judgment is false in this sense of ‘true.’ But a judgment might also conform to things and hence be logically true. But in this same propositional sense of ‘true’ a judgment might contradict the facts and hence be false. Now what is intriguing is that what makes our intellect qua knowing logically true is the same thing that makes it ontologically true.43 Like anything else, our mind is ontologically true in knowing something just when it exemplifies the form proper to its nature. In knowing intellectually, mind conforms to the divine Exemplar of human nature taken as source of distinctly human activity.44 Moreover, in the case of mind alone, the form proper to it qua knowing is the form of another. Paradoxically, intellect acts as mind (i.e. it knows) just when it takes on the form of something else. That is what Aristotle meant by saying that in its act of knowing mind is in a sense all things.45 Mind in act is ontologically true just when the form it exemplifies is the form of another. But for mind to have in it the form of another so that there is a

Truth

109

likeness between it and that other is just what is meant by calling mind logically true. For by this likeness mind conforms to things and is hence true in that same sense. Therefore, only of mind in act is it truly said that its being logically true is equivalent to its being ontologically true. St. Thomas also distinguishes essential and accidental truth.46 This is again a division of secondary truth. Whatever is secondarily true is either essentially or accidentally true and vice versa. And since all secondary truth is measured truth, then all that is either essentially or accidentally true is measured truth. Something y is essentially speaking true if and only if (i) y is known by some mind m which is distinct from y and (ii) m is the measure of y. Thus, because they are both known and measured by God’s mind, all natural things are essentially true. Something z is accidentally true if and only if (i) z is known by some mind m from which it is distinct and (ii) z is not measured by m. For example, a tree is accidentally true just because it is known but not measured by our minds. It follows that in the view of Aquinas the same thing, i.e. the tree, is both essentially and accidentally true depending on whether it is taken in relation to the divine mind or to the human mind. Joined with two Aristotelian axioms, the notions of essential and accidental truth imply that truth is strictly speaking found in mind. And assuming these same axioms, it also works the other way around. The axioms in question are these: (1) that a thing is judged by what it is essentially and not by what it is accidentally, and (2) that when a thing y is called G only because it is the effect of another thing, x, of which G is predicated, then G is strictly or properly found properly in x and not y. To bring out (1), since it is accidental to a tree that it is known by some person R, we do not define what a tree is by adverting to R or to R’s knowledge of a tree. However, it is not accidental to the notion of an artifact that it is made by an artist. Therefore, we do advert to an artist in saying what an artifact is. To explain (2), since we call events sad only because they make people sad, sadness is found properly in persons and not in events. So if something is called true in the essential sense only because it is both known and measured by some mind m and if (2) is true, then it follows that truth is strictly or properly found in minds. Things other than minds are then improperly called true. From all of this, then, the following definitions emerge: T1 y is properly speaking true =df (i) y is in mind and (ii) y either measures something x in reality or y is measured by x T2 y is in improperly speaking true =df (i) y is some real thing and (ii) either y measures some mind z or y is measured by z T3 y is primarily speaking true =df (i) y is properly speaking true, (ii) y measures some contingent thing x and (iii) y is an unmeasured measure

110

Chapter Three

T4 y is secondarily speaking true =df (i) y is either properly or improperly speaking true and (ii) y is in some sense measured either by some mind z or by some thing x T5 y is logically (judgmentally) true =df (i) y is properly speaking true, (ii) y is secondarily speaking true and (iii) y is measured by some thing x T6 y is ontologically true =df (i) y is either properly or improperly speaking true, (ii) y is secondarily speaking true and (iii) y is measured by some mind z T7 y is essentially speaking true =df (i) y is secondarily speaking true, (ii) y is known by some mind z and (iii) y depends on and is measured by z T8 y is accidentally speaking true =df (i) y is secondarily speaking true, (ii) y is known by some mind z and (iii) y neither depends on nor is measured by z

SOME IMPLICATIONS By these definitions only God’s mind is primarily and properly true. If our minds were destroyed then truth would remain in the divine mind. But if the divine mind were destroyed (which is impossible) so too would all truth be destroyed.47 As for our minds, they are properly but secondarily true while natural and artificial things are both improperly and secondarily true.48 This echoes Aquinas’s idea that a thing has truth the same way it has being.49 Our minds as well as all contingent things are caused and what is caused is being in a secondary sense. So our minds and things have secondary truth. Our true judgments too are caused or measured by things. It is because snow is white that my judgment, “Snow is white” is true.50 So both our minds and the true judgments they deliver are secondarily true. The former are measured by the Idea of the human mind in the divine mind whereas the latter are measured both by the Idea of a human judgment in the divine mind as well as by facts. All eight definitions include the idea of one thing measuring another. Aquinas accepts the Augustinian idea that if one thing measures another, then the former is to that extent superior to the latter.51 Recall St. Augustine’s statement that though our minds measure our senses, judging how they work, our minds are themselves measured by truth.52 But truth is unmeasured measure since nothing measures truth. St. Augustine then identifies truth or the unmeasured measure with God. For both philosophers, nothing that measures another thing is its effect but sometimes its cause. Both hold that the divine Ideas are the exemplary causes of created things as well as their measure. But though they measures our senses, judging over them, our minds no more cause our senses than thermometers, which measure heat, cause heat.

Truth

111

The relation of measure to measured in T1 through T8 refers to a particular cause-effect relation. It is the relation of exemplary cause. Exemplary causes for Aquinas are a type of formal cause. Like Plato’s Forms, they are formal causes that are separate from their effects instead of being those formal causes (such as the humanity of Socrates) that are constitutive of their effects. The measure is exemplary cause whereas what is measured is its exemplatum or effect. Exemplary causes are patterns after which exemplata are made. The latter are similar to their respective patterns. These patterns might be true either in the proper sense or in an improper sense of ‘true.’ As for propositional or logical truth, the patterns are improperly speaking true. That is because they are things or facts and not minds. The real combination of the accident musical and the substance Plato is the real model or pattern of the logical combination of subject and predicate in my judgment that Plato is musical. Since the subject-predicate combination is patterned after and is caused by the former real combination of substance and accident, the former is the measure or exemplary cause of the latter. Moreover, the model is either primarily or secondarily true. It is the latter when natural things measure our minds but the former when the divine Ideas measure natural things. In addition, the model or exemplary form is either essentially or accidentally true. Natural things that measure our mind are essentially true in relation to the divine intellect but accidentally true in relation to our mind. For they are made after God’s ideas and not ours. Finally, the relation of model to modeled implies an agent cause. In ontological truth the agent measures but in the case of judgmental or logical truth the agent is measured. In the former, the measure is in the mind of the agent, human or divine, who measures according to it. But in the case of the latter the measure is separate from the agent whose mind is measured by it. Thus, God fashions creatures after His Ideas and artists create artifacts after their artistic models. But in and through the true judgments which we make about things, it is our minds that are measured by those things. But the difference between the things measured in ontological and judgmental truth, respectively, is this. In the former, what is measured is purely passive. Natural things have no more say or active role in their creation than does clay in the hands of a potter. But though our minds are measured by things in propositional or logical truth and so are passive, they nonetheless make the judgments that are so measured. It is we who combine and separate subjects and predicates, thereby making the very judgments the truth of which is measured by facts or things. So it is that while judgments depend on facts for their truth, they none the less depend on minds for their being.

112

Chapter Three

NOTES 1. Aquinas, Summa theologica , trans. A. Pegis (New York: The Modern Library, 1948), I q16 a1, 168–71. 2. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, trans. J.P. Rowan (Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1961), VI.L.4: C1227, 480. 3. The answer to ths question in what follows is more fully developed in my “Subjectivity and Objectivity in Truth.” See Acta Philosophica II, 14, 2005, 299–312. See also my “Conceptualism and Truth,” Ratio vol. XIII no. 3. Sept. 2000, 234–38. 4. ———, Summa theologica I q85 a6, 416–17. 5. ———, Summa theologica I q17 a3, 187–88. 6. Bertrand Russell, The Problems of Philosophy (London: Oxford University Press, 1970),46–52. 7. Aquinas, Summa theologica I q17 a3, 188. 8. ———, Summa theologica I q17, a4, 174–75. 9. Josiah Royce, “The Possibility of Error” in The Religious Aspect of Philosophy (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, 1885), 385–433. 10. Aquinas, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72. 11. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72. 12. ———, Summa theologica I q85 a5, 414–16. 13. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle IX. L.11: C 1898, 700. 14. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72. 15. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72. 16. ———, Summa theologica I q84 a7, 397. 17. Aquinas links the return to the phantasm with the proposition which is the work of judgment. See ———, Summa theologica I q86 a1, 423–24; I q85 a5 2, 414–16. 18. ———, Summa theologica I q84 a7, 396–97. 19. ———, Summa theologica I q17 a1, 183–84. 20. ———, Summa theologica I q17 a3, 177–78. 21. ———, Summa theologica I q17 a3, 187–88. 22. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics VI.L.4: C1236, 482. 23. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72. 24. ———, Summa theologica I q58 a4; See also, I q85 a5. 25. ———, Summa theologica I q85 a5, 414–15. See also, ———, Summa theologica in Pegis, ed. The Basic Writings of St. Thomas Aquinas (New York: Random House, 1945), vol. I, I q58 a4, 543. 26. ———, Summa theologica I q85 a5, 414–15. 27. Aquinas states that understanding pertains to apprehension but that wisdom (which is higher than understanding) pertains to judgment. See Aquinas, Commentary on Aristotle’s De Anima, trans. K. Foster and S. Humphries (New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1965), III.3 #629, 381–82; III.4 #672,402–03. 28. ———, Summa theologica in Introduction to St. Thoms Aquinas, trans. Pegis (New York:1948), I q85 a5, 414–15; See also ———, Summa theologica I q17 a3, 188–89.

Truth

113

29. This is the final natural and not the final supernatural perfection of persons. The latter for Aquinas consists in acquaintance with God in the next life or what he calls the Beatific Vision. 30. For a lucid, modern account of this relation between apprehension and judgment see H.B. Veatch, Intentional Logic (New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1952), 164–169. 31. Aquinas, Summa theologica I q85 a5 reply obj.3, 415–16. 32. ———, On Being and Essence, trans.A. Maurer (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 1949), ch.2–3, 30–42. 33. ———, On Being and Essence, ch.3, 42. 34. ———, On Being and Essence, ch. 3, 40–41. 35. ———, On Being and Essence, ch. 2, 37–38. 36. John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, ed. A. S. PringlePattison (Oxford: Oxford Univ. Press, 1960), 93 37. Summa theologica I q16 a1,169–70. 38. Summa theologica I q16 a1; See also ———, Disputed Questions on Truth in J.F. Anderson trans. An Introduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas (Chicago:Henry Regnery, 1953), q I a2, 67–8. 39. In this section I use material and the line of argument taken from my “Truth and Judgment in Aquinas,” in The Modern Schoolman, LXXVI, Nov. 1998. 40. Summa theologica I q16 a8, 180–82; I q16a1, 168–71; I q16 a5, 175–6. 41. Summa theologica I q16 a5. 42. Summa theologica I q16 a8 reply obj. 3, 182. 43. Summa theologica I q16 a. 2, 171–2. 44. Aquinas says that taken as the source of the activities of creatures the exemplar of divine wisdom has the character of law. See Summa theologica I-II q93, a1, 628–30. 45. Aristotle, De Anima, III, 8 (431b, 21). 46. Aquinas, Summa theologica I q16, a1, 168–71. 47. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth in Pegis, trans. An Introduction to the Metaphsics of St. Thomas Aquinas, qI a2, 68. 48. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, qI a4, 69–70. 49. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, II. L2: C 298,122. 50. ———, Summa Theologiae I q16 a8; See also ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, V. L9: C896,346–347. 51. St. Augustine, “On the Free Choice of the Will,” in Medieval Philosophy, eds. Baird and Kaufmann (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 2003) book II, 5–6, 78–80. 52. ———, “On the Free Choice of the Will,” Book II, 12, 13, 89–91.

Chapter Four

Universals

VARIOUS VIEWS ON UNIVERSALS The doctrine of divine Ideas to which reference was previously made suggests the fundamental issue of universals. And from what has been said, it is clear that on this issue too, Aquinas falls between Plato and Aristotle. The issue is sometimes put in the form of the question, “Do universals or essences exist independently of minds?” But this begs the question about universals since it assumes that universals exist at least in minds. And this is denied by nominalists. More accurately, the issue is put as follows: “Do universals have ontological status of any sort?”1 The negative reply to this question is nominalism. Realism and conceptualism are the positive answers. Aquinas sides with the realists. He holds that universals have being when the word ‘universal’ has the sense of essence. But he shuns both conceptualism and nominalism. Against the former, he denies that universals are in minds only when ‘universal’ has that same sense of essence. Yet he is hardly a Platonic realist. With Aristotle, he denies that universals are ever separated from particulars. These particulars are either natural substances, human minds, or God.2 This thesis that universals can exist separately from minds but not separately from both individual minds (human or divine) and individual bodies is moderate realism. As regards the latter, it sides with conceptualism and departs from Platonic realism. As regards the former, it joins Platonic realism and shuns conceptualism. Finally, it agrees with nominalism only in denying Platonic or separated universals. Moderate realism might easily be confused with conceptualism. Under the latter, universals exist only as abstract general ideas. Thus do conceptualists part company with nominalists like Berkeley and Hume who deny abstract 114

Universals

115

ideas. But conceptualists are one with nominalists and stand against moderate realists in denying anything common among real individuals. In any case, all this yields the following definitions : A person r is an Platonic realist = df r believes that universals exist transcendently i.e. independently of matter and minds. A person r is a nominalist =df (i) r denies that universals exist either transcendently or otherwise. A person r is a conceptualist =df (i) r affirms that universals exist only in human minds and (ii) r denies that universals have a foundation in things. A person r is a moderate realist =df r denies that universals exist transcendently and (ii) r affirms that universals exist in matter and in human minds. A person r is an Aristotelian realist =df (i) r is a moderate realist and (ii) r does not affirm that universals exist in God’s mind. A person r is a Thomistic realist =df (i) r is a moderate realist and (ii) r affirms that universals exist in God’s mind.

‘UNIVERSAL’ AS AMBIGUOUS Nevertheless, the word ‘universal’ is not always synonymous with ‘essence.’ In the thought of Aquinas, the word ‘universal’ strictly speaking refers not to essence but to concept.3 For Aquinas universals are concepts and not the objects of concepts. Further, since concepts are not real beings but beings of reason, it follows that universals exist only in minds, according to Aquinas. This does not mean that Aquinas is a conceptualist, however. When the latter says that universals exist only in minds, the word ‘universals’ is synonymous with the word ‘essences.’ In this sense of the word ‘universals,’ Aquinas denies that universals exist only in minds. When, therefore, universals are identified with concepts and not with the objects of concepts, a different set of definitions emerges. But this set is entirely compatible with the previous one. Thus, A person r is a Platonic realist =df (i) r believes that there are universals and (ii) r believes that universals signify transcendent essences. A person r is a nominalist =df r denies that there are either universals or essences. A person r is a conceptualist =df (i) r believes that there are universals and (ii) r denies that universals signify essences, transcendent or otherwise. A person r is a moderate realist =df (i) r believes that there are universals, (ii) r believes that universals signify essences and (iii) r affirms that such essences do not exist transcendently but rather in matter and human minds.

116

Chapter Four

A person r is an Aristotelian realist =df (i) r is a moderate realist and (ii) r does not affirm that the essences signified by universals exist in the mind of God. A person r is a Thomist realist =df (i) r is a moderate realist and (ii) r affirms that the essences signified by universals exist in the mind of God. It can be said that for Aquinas, then, being universal is a way of being which essence takes on as a result of being known. By us, essence is known universally although that is not the way it really is. As for conceptualists, they too hold that things are known by us universally even though they exist particularly. The difference is that for conceptualists no essence or nature in the real world corresponds to any universal concept which we form in our minds. They thus join nominalists in holding that physical things are purely particular.

AQUINAS’S VIEW From this Aquinas dissents. Otherwise, he would insist, Socrates and Plato, say, would not have the very same definition and they evidently do. Being a rational animal is what Socrates and Plato are and this definition is common both to them and to all other humans. But this is the case only if being a rational animal is not particular.4 The implication is that a particular like Socrates is not purely particular but includes something non-particular. The purely particular in the view of Aquinas is a false abstraction. And as it is with Socrates, so is it with all other particulars. Though they are particular, they nonetheless include in them something non-particular. Each and every one of them includes some essence or species. Besides, if an essence like humanity were intrinsically particular, it could never be universal. Yet it is universal in thought. When I understand the essence humanity, I do so by means of the abstract idea of humanity. And yet, these same forms or essences that every particular includes are not intrinsically universal either. For in that case they could never be found in particulars. Instead, they would always be found in an abstracted, generalized way. But as evidenced by the fact that humanity is concrete and particular in, say, Plato, this is false. Therefore, concludes Aquinas,5 humanity or any other essence or form G is neither particular nor universal. Being particular and being universal are only accidental to G. The same is true of the characters of being one and of being many. If humanity is by definition one, it could not be many. And if it is by definition many, then it could not be one. But humanity is evidently many in Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. It is also evidently one in Plato. Therefore, humanity taken in and of itself is neither one nor many any more than it is in and of itself either particular or universal.6

Universals

117

This is conveniently expressed in terms of predication. If the human that is predicated of Plato is by definition universal, then it follows that Plato is universal. For if Plato is human and human is universal then Plato is universal. But if the human predicated of Plato is particular, i.e. includes the individuality of Plato, then human is impredicable of Aristotle or of any other person. Aquinas’s answer is that the human that is predicated of Plato is in itself neither universal nor particular. This does not mean that humanity is ever found in this neutral state, any more than a rose, say, is ever found without color. But just as any color a rose has, i.e. red, yellow, white, etc. is accidental to being a rose, so too, any mode of existence an essence has, i.e. universal or particular, is accidental to that essence. So it can be said that behind Aquinas’s escape from this dilemma of predication in logic is his distinction of essence and existence in metaphysics.

PLATONIC REALISM In the light of this, the errors of Platonic realism, nominalism and conceptualism can be distinguished. Each one harbors a nugget of truth. take Platonic realism. In chapter xix of the Republic, Plato distinguishes knowledge and opinion. He says that knowledge answers to the real and has the real as its object. By contrast, appearance is the object of opinion.7 Further, since definition is the device or vehicle of knowledge for Plato, then definition must correspond to the real or the thing defined. And since definition must always do so, immutability is required on the part of the definiendum. But since no sensible thing is immutable, it follows that knowing through definition is not knowing individual sensible things but separated universals. There is thus a one-to-one correspondence between the universality of definitions and the universality of their respective definienda. In the Parmenides, Plato fields the objection that these Forms or universals exist only in mente.8 Partly to answer the celebrated “third-man” objection to the Forms, Socrates proffers the hypothesis that the Forms are really only ideas in the mind. Speaking for Plato, Parmenides counters that thoughts must be thoughts of something other than themselves. In that case real Forms or universals are admitted after all. Besides, if Forms are nothing but ideas or thoughts, then to say that things partake of Forms is to say either that all things think or that there are thoughts that do not think. By this dilemma, at least according to Plato, conceptualism is defeated. Aquinas agrees that definitions are basic to knowledge. But he denies that it follows that the objects of these universal definitions are real universals. Plato goes too far in his realism. This is shown by the fruits of that extreme realism. If like the definitions by which they are known the real is universal

118

Chapter Four

and separated from material conditions, then the oddity follows that things like real dirt and real stone are both universal and immaterial. This shows the crux of Plato’s error. It is to confuse how something is with how it is known.9 It is the mistake of reducing the real to the rational, of rationalizing the real. And this is done to the detriment of the real. For the real is then construed as being abstract and universal instead of being (as it is) concrete and particular. The task for epistemology, as Aquinas sees it, is to avoid confusing the real with the rational without sacrificing the correspondence to reality required by knowledge. This is accomplished, says St. Thomas, by negotiating a unity-in-difference between knowledge and reality. Between a known object and the knowing of it is an essential (formal) identity but an existential diversity. Intellect knows things only according to its own way, which is abstract and universal. But that is not the way of things which are concrete and particular. Preserving this diversity of knowing and being blocks the absurdity that real dirt and stone are immaterial. But it does so without sacrificing the correspondence to reality that knowledge requires. For the diversity that has just been struck is all on the side of existence. How knowledge is is not how the known is. In the case of the former, you have some form F that exists abstractly and universally. In the case of the latter, the form F exists concretely and particularly. But it is all along the very same form F.10 So whereas there is diversity on the side of existence there is identity on the side of essence. In other words, between concept and object there is a formal identity despite the existential diversity. And this identity is sufficient to account for the correspondence that must obtain between knowledge and reality.

NOMINALISM The error of nominalism is just the reverse. If extreme realists pattern reality after knowledge to the detriment of reality, nominalists model knowledge after reality to the detriment of knowledge. Instead of confusing how something is with how it is known, nominalists confuse how something is known with how it is. Classical nominalists concede that knowledge is a one-to-one correspondence of ideas to reality. But denying separated essences on the reality-side of that relation, they then reject abstract concepts on the idea-side of the relation. Nominalists do not start with abstract ideas as requirements of knowledge and then deduce abstract real entities from those ideas. They first deny that reality is abstract and then deny the doctrine of abstract ideas. For like Platonic realists, they think that the latter implies the former. In their view, the mistake of extreme realists is not that of moving from abstract ideas

Universals

119

to abstract things. It is the mistake of positing abstract ideas in the first instance. It is the mistake of thinking that abstract ideas are behind nouns and adjectives. Once this assumption is surrendered, it is no longer necessary to posit real universals to satisfy the correspondence of ideas to reality in which knowledge consists. Still, nominalists agree that knowledge does require this same one-to-one correspondence of ideas to reality. It is just that the ideas that thus correspond to reality are not universal concepts but sense impressions or sense images. Aquinas would object that nominalism compensates by committing the opposite error. It models knowledge after reality to the detriment of knowledge.11 To avoid Platonic universals, one need not go to the extreme of turning the rational into the real. The culprit is not abstract ideas but something that, ironically enough, is assumed by nominalists and extreme realists alike. Before naming that assumption, let us see what happens when, in order to sidestep Platonic universals, nominalists replace abstract ideas with sense images. True, like the reality some of them represent, sense images are concrete. That is their strength. For viewing knowledge as exact correspondence of thought to reality, nominalists must make thought match reality. But armed with sense images only, one is at a loss to say what some real, concrete thing is. To say that Plato is human is to use the predicate word, ‘human.’ Suppose that instead of signifying a universal concept, ‘human’ signifies an image of a particular human. Either it is the image of Plato or the image of someone else. If the former, then to say that Plato is human is to say Plato is Plato; if the latter, then to say that Plato is human is to say that Plato is some other person. Apart from the dilemma of either tautology or contradiction, you fail in either case to say what Plato is, to make a predication by species. And it is not just predication by species that is eliminated but any predication at all. You cannot predicate P of S unless ‘P’ is universal. It makes no difference whether ‘P’ is species, genus, difference, property, or accident with respect to S. Kant, who was no advocate of moderate realism, would applaud Aquinas on this point. Judgment, in his view, either subsumes intuitions under universal concepts or lower concepts under higher concepts.12 And without judgment there is no knowledge. Moreover, nominalists have trouble being consistent too. If the denial of abstract ideas excludes judgment, then no nominalist consistently makes judgments, including the judgments that nominalism is true and that he is a nominalist. For ‘being true’ and ‘being a nominalist’ are predicable of their respective subjects and nothing particular is predicable. Besides, no nominalist consistently urges nominalism on others. For this implies that they can share his idea. But persons cannot have the very same idea if nominalism is true. In addition, if persons cannot have the same idea then they cannot hold contradictory views either. If one person affirms and another denies that S is

120

Chapter Four

P, their ideas of S and P must be the same if the one judgment is to contradict the other. Things can be carried even further. If there are no universal ideas, then there are no judgments. But if there are no judgments there are no arguments. For arguments are composed of premises and conclusions all of which are judgments. So not just judgments but arguments too feed off abstract ideas. Nominalism excludes argument in another way too. If no two persons have the very same idea then two or more persons always go past each other in debate. Being about different things, their “arguments” are futile. All this is what is to be expected once how things are known is confused with how they are. When you equate the way things are known with the way they are you eliminate knowledge. The irony is that by trying so much to make the rational conform to the real, you end up turning the rational into the real. And then the rational is stripped of its very function, i.e. to know the real. The fact is that the real or extra-mental does not know anything. That is why, strangely, the error of nominalism parallels that of its opposite, i.e. Platonic realistm. The latter is so intent on making the real conform to the rational that it turnss the real into the rational. Acquiring abstractness, the real is then destroyed. Abstractions of reason are nothing real. Aquinas would say that it is a case of exaggerating the correspondence in both directions. And the result is a prodigy on both ends. In nominalism the real swallows up the rational and in extreme or Platonic realism the rational swallows up the real. But the same error is behind both. And that is the assumption that knowing is an exact one-to-one correspondence between the rational and the real. When this correspondence is carried too far then the possibility of any correspondence between the two is lost. For there needs to be two orders, rational and real, between which the correspondence holds.

CONCEPTUALISM Conceptualism saves the dualism that nominalism and Platonism collapse. That is its strength. Conceptualists avoid confusing the real with the rational or vice versa. The mind has its own way of dealing with real individuals. And that is through abstract ideas. But neither is the real a copy of the rational. On this score conceptualists go further than Aquinas and Aristotle. Socrates resembles Plato in being human but this similarity is ultimate and irreducible. It needs no universal to ground it. Socrates and Plato are not similar by virtue of some common humanity that informs the matter of each one. They share nothing in common despite their evident similarity. The logic of similarity requires no universal. All that is needed is a selected individual that is used as a model or paradigm. In this case let it be Adam. What it then means to say

Universals

121

that Socrates and Plato are human is that they resemble Adam. So conceptualists join nominalists in denying that particulars incorporate a common form. Yet so far from collapsing the real and the rational as do realists and nominalists, conceptualists forge an nonnegotiable gap between them. Without making St. Thomas an Hegelian before Hegel, the saint does see that what is needed here is a unity-in-difference. True, the real is not the rational. But that does not mean that they are the total foreigners that conceptualists construe them as being. As conceptualists would have it, you have on the one side pure universality and on the other pure particularity. Just look at Kant, the most celebrated conceptualist. Between mind and reality-in-itself the critical philosopher forges an unbridgable gap. The trouble with such a gap between the real and the rational is that it prevents knowledge of the former by the latter. It excludes knowledge of the real. One cause of this skepticism is dismantling the tool of knowledge. That is what nominalists do when they pattern the rational exactly after the real. Then there is no knowledge of the real because there are no concepts by which the real can be known. Another cause of the skepticism is to save the tools of knowledge, abstract ideas but render them useless. That is what conceptualists do. They have the tools but the tools are in their hands quite useless. Saws cut nothing when nothing is cuttable. Similarly, concepts know nothing real when nothing real is knowable or intelligible. And of things which philosophers call real, none lack intelligibility more than the pure particulars of nominalism and conceptualism. To be intelligible means to be knowable by mind. But since mind knows only through abstract ideas, particulars are knowable by mind, and hence intelligible, only to the extent that they are not particular. For while the particular as such is sensible, it is not intelligible. But what is purely particular is from no standpoint non-particular. It is something real without having a trace of the rational. It is a bare particular, harboring no form or essence whatsoever. But then, Aquinas would say, it is unknown by mind. Conceptualism so divides the real from the rational as to prevent any tie between them. To be related, things cannot be totally different any more than they can be totally the same. If ideas are universal and reality purely particular then to know the latter by the former is to know it totally otherwise than it is. But to know something totally otherwise than it is is not to know it. It follows that under conceptualism intellectual knowledge of the real is impossible. Conceptualists are not blind to the gap they open between concepts and reality. Nor do they miss the implication of skepticism. To save knowledge and the correspondence of idea and object in which knowledge consists, they reverse the direction of that correspondence. This is Kant’s celebrated “Copernican revolution.” Under this move, instead of being the conformity of ideas to objects, knowledge is the conformity of objects to ideas. To be an object of knowledge in the first place, something must be colored by our a priori ideas.

122

Chapter Four

The gap between idea and object is thus spanned. True, ideas are universal structures of mind. But since, to be known, every object must bear the stamp of these a priori ideal categories, it follows that ideas and objects necessarily correspond. By definition, then, objects of knowledge are rational just like the ideas by which they are known. For it is these very ideas that are the form of every object. Just because they are, idea and object are not split. And as a result of this a priori correspondence of the two, knowledge of objects is saved.

AQUINAS AND THE COPERNICAN REVOLUTION This “Copernican revolution,” of course, post-dated Aquinas. But it is clear that he would respond to it as follows. You cannot both alienate the real and the rational and then try and save knowledge by taking the transcendental turn. For the knowledge you save thereby is knowledge of appearance and not of reality. When knowledge is the conformity of object to concept instead of concept to object, the object of knowledge is partly made by mind. And then what is known is not reality itself but reality as colored by mind. But it might be objected that knowledge that is not knowledge of reality is not knowledge at all. This is because knowledge implies truth and the measure of truth is not appearance but reality. Things may appear to us one way. But unless that is also the way they are, any claim to that effect is untrue. When conceptualists cut all ties between the real and the rational, therefore, they also cut the string that ties knowledge and truth to reality. To escape this, conceptualists must deny either that knowledge implies truth or that truth is the conformity of mind to reality. This is not an enviable choice. Few challenge the dictum that ‘P is known implies P is true.’ So the only course open to them is to take the transcendental turn with truth as well as with knowledge. Truth is not the conformity of mind to object any more than knowledge is. Instead, it is the conformity of object to mind. That at least renders their view consistent. For if you believe that knowledge implies truth, you cannot consistently say both that knowledge is the conformity of object to mind and that truth is the conformity of mind to object. If you go by the idea that knowledge implies truth you must hold that knowledge and truth run in the same direction.

THE THEORY OF COHERENCE Making truth and knowledge both a matter of conformity of object to mind is consistent conceptualism. Yet it is counterintuitive. The reason is that what is

Universals

123

meant by saying ‘There are lions’ is true is not that that statement conforms to the fact that there are lions. Instead, what is meant is that it conforms to mind or reason. This can only mean that the statement in question coheres with the whole body of other accepted statements. Here, ‘coheres with’ is defined either in terms of consistency or in terms of mutual implication. In either case, it seems that ‘true’ is defined in terms of ‘true,’ making the definition circular. To say that P is consistent with Q, R, S, etc. is to say that when Q,R,S, etc. are true, it is possible that P is also true. And to say P implies and is implied by Q,R,S, etc. is to say it is impossible that P is true and Q,R,S, etc. false and that it is impossible that Q,R, S, etc. are true and P false. Further, whether ‘coherence’ means consistency or implication, the ground of coherence is the law of non-contradiction. Aside, then, from the oddity of saying that it is not the fact that there are lions that makes the statement ‘There are lions’ true, this coherence view of truth implies that the basis of coherence, the law of non-contradiction, is itself true because it coheres.13 Therefore, to the extent that conceptualists embrace the coherence view of truth to make their own transcendental turn as regards knowledge consistent, they either ground coherence in coherence or else concede that the law of non-contradiction is true in some sense other than coherence. Otherwise, they render coherence groundless. It follows that unless they accept that consequence, conceptualists cut the string that ties both knowledge and truth to reality at the cost of either circularity or inconsistency. But even aside from that dilemma, cutting the tie between knowledge and truth on the one side and reality on the other is unacceptable. Otherwise, it is not the case that some state of affairs in the world that both makes ‘There are lions’ true and is necessary for knowing that there are lions. In sum, the conceptualists’ total alienation of the real and the rational opens another gap, namely, a gap between knowledge and truth on the one side and reality on the other. Finally, as regards the stronger sense of ‘coherence,’ the gap between knowledge and reality breaks out in another way. If truth consists in the mutual implication of judgments, it follows that if a person knows something then he or she knows everything. This follows from the doctrine of internal relations to which defenders of the stronger coherentist view are committed. For under the latter, facts and truths form an unbroken web, an integrated system. There are no isolated, independent facts or truths. But Aquinas would point out that no person knows everything. But then it follows, if the stronger coherentist view is assumed, that no person knows anything. Thus, the stronger view of coherence implies absolute skepticism. Coherentists might counter that the doctrine of internal relations implies only that if one thing is known then all things are known indistinctly. Then, it cannot be objected that under that doctrine no one knows anything on the

124

Chapter Four

grounds that no one knows everything. For the skepticism takes hold only if ‘knows everything’ here means ‘knows everything distinctly.’ True, no one knows all things distinctly but might it not be the case that we know or at least are able to know all things indistinctly? But this reply is ineffective. For we no more know all things indistinctly than we know all things distinctly. A person who has been blind since birth does not know what color is indistinctly or inchoately. Such a person does not know at all what color is. Again, none of us can claim to know, even indistinctly, sounds that are heard by animals that have a keener sense of hearing than we do. We not know those sounds at all. And so on with many other things. So if it is a condition of my knowing any arbitrarily selected thing x that I know all other things indistinctly, then it follows that I cannot know x. The defender of coherence hardly avoids the objection of skepticism by substituting indistinct knowledge of everything for distinct knowledge of everything.

THE REAL AND THE RATIONAL: AQUINAS’S SYNTHESIS Aquinas sidesteps these troubles with coherentism by denying their source, namely, the hard and fast separation of the real and the rational. But this does not mean that we should fuse the real and the rational. Behind this reductionism is the false assumption, common to Platonic realists and nominalists alike, that knowledge is an exact, one-to-one correspondence between the rational and the real. The only difference is that Platonic realists model the real exactly after the rational while nominalists model the rational exactly after the real. But it is basically the same mistake. For in both cases there is no identity-in-difference but rather a relation of mapping or copying. In Plato, intellectual concepts are abstract and universal and so are the Forms that are known by those concepts. The two are a perfect match. Otherwise, says Plato, something is known otherwise than it is and hence not known. And in a nominalist like Hume the same thing holds. All simple ideas, says Hume, are “exact representations” of impressions.14 All knowledge is derived from impressions, and to determine the truth of any simple idea is to trace its origin to the impression from which it has been derived. All empirical knowledge consists, for Hume, in the conformity of ideas to impressions. Here, because Hume is a phenomenalist, ideas are the rational and impressions the real. But the point is that this conformity-relation is once again one of mapping or exact copying and not one of identity-in-difference. The solution is to get between the non-negotiable dualism of conceptualism and the reductionist ontologies of Platonic realism and nominalism. And that is what St. Thomas does. Under this synthesis, which is known as mod-

Universals

125

erate realism, all three pitfalls are bypassed. First, the dualism of real and rational is saved without having to take the transcendental turn to cover the conformity of concept and object. That makes it unnecessary to turn knowledge upside down and say that it is the conformity of object to concept instead of the other way around. Knowledge thus has reality and not appearance as its object. Since it is implied by knowledge, truth here runs the same way as knowledge. That means that the statement, ‘There are lions’ is true because it conforms to fact and not because it conforms to reason. Second, the unity of rational and real in knowledge is retained without reducing the real to the rational, without confusing how things are with how they are known. And then one need not say that real dirt and stone are neither particular nor material. And third, the unity of the rational and the real in knowledge is once again saved without reducing the rational to the real, without confusing how things are known with how they are. And then one need not witness the death of mind, thereby excluding knowledge of the real by the rational.

RELEVANCE OF THE ESSENCE-EXISTENCE DISTINCTION All this is accomplished on the shoulders of the distinction of essence and existence. On the side of existence, how things are is the very opposite of how they are known. That is why the extremes of nominalism and Platonism are false. For Hume ideas must be particular just like their real source, impressions. To be known, the real for Plato must be just like ideas, i.e. abstract and universal. It is as if, reducing knowing reality to reality, Hume reduces essence to existence. And it is as if, reducing reality to knowing reality, Plato reduces existence to essence. More circumspect on this score than either Hume or Plato, Aquinas would have said, is the conceptualist Kant. Insisting with Aquinas on the importance of keeping essence and existence distinct, Kant no more confuses the orders of being and knowing than does Aquinas. But though concept and object stand existentially opposed, they are essentially one. Though I know lion universally even though it exists particularly, what I know universally and what exists particularly is the same “what” or essence. They are one in species or definition. That is why, despite the fact that how something is known is always (existentially) otherwise than it is, it is paradoxically still knowledge and not deception. For the word ‘otherwise’ here is adverbial and not accusative. It refers to the difference between the manner in which something is known and the manner in which it is. It does not refer to a difference between what is known and what is. Just because he tended to blur the manner of existence and essence (the “how” and the “what”) Plato did not view the relation of concept and object as one of identity-in-difference. To

126

Chapter Four

save knowledge, then, he could not admit any sense in which how something is known is otherwise than it is. He had to insist on an exact correspondence between concept and object. Seeing, then, that universality is the condition of knowledge (as opposed to opinion) he concluded that it is also a condition of the real. Otherwise, definienda fail to correspond to definitions and things are otherwise than they are known. Moreover, this same relation of identity-in-difference that holds between concept and object is missed by nominalists and conceptualists too. In the case of nominalists, it is once again rooted in the failure to distinguish and preserve both essence and existence. That is because, denying Platonic realism with a vengeance, nominalists throw out essence and universality altogether. If all is purely particular and nothing is common, then there is nothing common between concept and object. Hence, how something is known cannot be otherwise than it is without being totally otherwise than it is. To save the conformity in which knowledge consists, therefore, nominalists join Platonists in denying that how something is known is otherwise than how it is. But since there is nothing common between the two, there must be an exact one-to-one correspondence, an isomorphism, between concept and object. But because they are nominalists and not Platonic realists, the correspondence must be one of particular to particular and not (as in Plato) of universal to universal. Finally, with conceptualists too, no identity-in-difference obtains between the real and the rational. That is because, along with nominalists, conceptualists hold that all there really is is particular. Retaining universals in mind, conceptualists must then find some way to save knowledge. For concepts being universal and reality being purely particular, a gaping hole opens between the two. Nor can they fill the hole and save knowledge the way Aquinas does. That is because, believing that all there really is is purely particular, they recognize in real things no distinction between essence and existence.15 But then it is not open to conceptualists to counterbalance the existential diversity of concept and object with essential unity. To bridge the gap and save knowledge, then, their only recourse is taking the transcendental turn. By so doing, they restore the identity-in-difference between concepts and objects. Under that move, objects are still different from concepts. But instead of being purely particular, they incorporate the universal patterns of concepts. The gap is thus bridged and knowledge is made possible. The trouble is, since the unity-in-difference that is thus achieved between concept and object is all within appearance and not between appearance and reality, the “knowledge” that issues from it is knowledge of appearance and not knowledge of reality. And what (among other things) spoils this Kantian twist is that we must think that ‘Two and two are four’ is true not because two and two really are four but ‘Two and two are four’ is true because we are so constituted as to think it true. As Russell once observed,

Universals

127

this transcendental twist on truth will scarcely guarantee the certainty of that arithmetical truth, Kantian intentions to the contrary. For tomorrow, undergoing a mind-change, we might be so constituted as to think otherwise.16 Aquinas agrees with conceptualists that knowledge is achieved only by universal concepts. He also agrees that reality is particular and not universal. But from this he does not draw the conceptualist’s conclusion that reality is unknown. The gap between universal concepts and particular things is bridged once, among those real particulars (and not just within appearance) the distinction between essence and existence is retained. For it can then be said that the gap between rational and real is all on the side of existence, i.e. all adverbial. How things are known is otherwise than how they are. But in addition to existence, says Aquinas, there is that whole other dimension of essence. And in essence, concept and object are one. It is formally speaking one and the same essence that has universal being in concepts and particular being in objects. And this essential identity satisfies the conformity of concept and object in which knowledge consists. And so a condition of there being knowledge of reality is that the real and the rational, concept and object, are existentially diverse but essentially one, a unity-in-difference. Without the real distinction of essence and existence, therefore, knowledge of reality collapses. To sum it up, then, Aquinas would charge that each one of these three competing views on universals issues out of its own misrepresentation of the essence-existence distinction. Contending that how something is is not other than how it is known, Plato reifies and hypostatizes essences, separating them from material particulars. With Plato and against conceptualists like Kant, Aquinas agrees that reality and not appearance is the object of knowledge. He even agrees that how something is is not other than how it is known. Even so, says he, it does not follow that the objects of knowledge are separated essences. That follows only if, fusing essence and existence, you make how something is part of its essence, part of what it is. And that was Plato’s error. In the dictum, “how something is is not other than how it is known” the “not other” refers just to the identity of what is and what is known (i.e. just to essence), says Aquinas. That he thought that the “not other” also refers to the identity of the way something is and the way it is known means that Plato construes the way as part of the what, existence as part of essence. To save knowledge, then, Plato consistently concludes that there must really be separated essences corresponding to universal definitions. From thus reducing the real to the rational, existence to essence, Plato would have been saved had he appreciated the ogre of saying that real dirt and stone are immaterial. Agreeing with extreme or Platonic realists that how something is is not other than it is known, nominalists prefer to put it the other way around. How something is known is not other than it is. For with them, the real is the measure of the rational and not vice versa. Therefore, instead of reifying and hypostasizing

128

Chapter Four

universal concepts, they eliminate them. If the real is particular and is the measure of ideas, then the latter are particular too. Aquinas agrees that the real is particular and that how something is known is not other than it is. But, says he, it does not follow that universal concepts are eliminated. That follows only if, reducing essence to existence, you identify a thing with how it differs from other things. And then instead of hypostatizing essence, you hypostatize existence. It follows only if, turning what a thing is into its own unique way of being, you make it purely particular. These pure particulars are just as much false abstractions as are Plato’s hypostasized essences. They are just what you get when, shunning making a prodigy of essence or universality, you make a prodigy of existence or particularity, usurping the rights of essence. Finally, imbalance in the essence-existence distinction is also behind conceptualism. Like extreme realists and nominalists, conceptualists construe knowledge as the conformity of idea and object. But, say conceptualists, it is wrong either to model the real after the rational or the rational after the real as do extreme realists and nominalists, respectively. So knowledge must be the conformity of idea and phenomenal object. Aquinas agrees that knowledge is the conformity of idea and object. He also agrees that the real is not to be patterned after the rational or vice versa. Things as known take on a mode of being they do not otherwise have. But he would insist that it does not follow that knowledge is knowledge of appearance and not of reality. That follows only if it is once again assumed that the real is purely particular. But we just saw that that assumption feeds on identifying a thing with how it differs from other things, thus creating the prodigy of a pure or bare particular. And this mistake is the very opposite mistake to Plato’s. You skew the real by identifying it with its existential side just as Plato skews it by reducing it to its essential side. If the latter is the false hypostatization of essence to the detriment of existence, the former is the false aggrandizement of existence at the expense of essence.

CONCLUSION: DIVINE IDEAS ONCE AGAIN Aquinas could have made the foregoing criticisms of Platonism, nominalism, and conceptualism just as an Aristotelian. But as the previous definition of ‘Thomistic realism’ shows, Aquinas went beyond Aristotle on universals. Universals in the sense of essences exist not only post rem and in re but also ante rem in the divine mind. And this doctrine of divine Ideas Aquinas took not from Aristotle but from St. Augustine. So it may next be asked why Aquinas went beyond the moderate realism of Aristotle and posited universals ante rem.

Universals

129

The answer goes back to his belief that all creatures have being (esse) participatively. A thing, x, has being participatively just when x is not identified with its being. Instead, being in x is the act of some distinct potentiality, namely, x’s essence.17 For Aquinas says that every participator is related to that in which it participates as the potential is related to the actual.18 And since x’s being is distinct from its essence, x’s being is caused by another thing y. But unlike x, y, at least in the last analysis, is God or the self-existing being. For Aquinas holds, P1, that whatever is participatively is caused by some self-existing thing.19 And this self-existing thing has being non-participatively. Otherwise, it is caused by something and so is not self-existing. A thing, y, then, has being non-participatively just when y is identified with its own being and does not have this distinct thing, essence, joined to it and to which it is related as act to potentiality. Now by the same token, for something x to have essence participatively means just that x is not identified with its essence but that essence in x has this other thing, matter, joined to it. This matter shares or participates in that essence or, put literally rather than figuratively, is related to that essence as potentiality to actuality. By contrast, something, x, has essence non-participatively just when x is identified with its essence. It is essence alone and does not have this distinct thing, matter, joined to it and related to it as potentiality to actuality. It follows from this that if a thing x has essence participatively ( i.e. if it is a composite of essence and the matter which shares in that essence) then the essence in question is accidental to the matter that participates in it. For since matter considered as matter can take on or assume any form or essence whatsoever, then no form or essence is essential or necessary to it. Instead, it is accidental to it. But if one thing is accidental to another, then it is caused to be in the latter by something else. Thus, since heat is accidental to water, then heat is caused to be in water by something else, say, fire. This cause evidently cannot be another thing y which, like x, participates in the same essence. For then y, like x, is a composite of that essence and the matter that participates in it. But then, the essence in question being once again accidental to the matter that participates in it, something else is again required to cause that matter to take on or assume that form or essence. As this cannot proceed to infinity, it follows that something has the essence in question non-participatively and that this is the cause of whatever has that same essence participatively. Therefore, just as, by P1, something that has being participatively (per accidens) is reduced to something that exists non-participatively (per se) so too, by what we might now call P2, whatever has essence participatively is caused by what has essence nonparticipatively. The logic cuts both ways. But to conclude and to come to the point, what has essence non-participatively is identified with either a self-subsisting Platonic Form or a divine Idea.

130

Chapter Four

And that the latter is the case or that there are divine Ideas has already been shown by invoking the scholastic distinction between object and condition, between id quod and id a quo.20

NOTES 1. To answer this question in what follows, I incorporate material taken from my paper, “The Real and the Rational:Aquinas’s Synthesis” which appeared in International Philosophical Quarterly Vol. XXXVII, No. 2 Issue No. 146 (June 1997). 2. Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, translated by J. P. Rowan (Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1961), I.L.10:C 158, 65–6. 3. Aquinas, On Being and Essence, trans. A. Maurer (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 1949), 3, 41. 4. ———, On Being and Essence, 3, 40. 5. ———, On Being and Essence, 3, 40. 6. ———, On Being and Essence, 3, 40. 7. Plato, Republic, in The Dialogues of Plato ed. B. Jowett (Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1953), vol.2 474B-480, 333–41. 8. Plato, Parmenides, in B. Jowett, ed. The Dialogues of Plato vol.2 132 b-c, 675–6. 9. Aquinas, Commentary ,I.L.10: C 158, 65; ———, Summa theologica, ed. A. Pegis (New York: The Modern Library, 1948), I q84 a1, 377–8. 10. ———, On Being and Essence, 3, 40–1. 11. To the extent that nominalists deny universal abstract concepts Aquinas would say they rule out intellectual knowledge of reality. For universality is a condition of such knowledge. See Aquinas, On Being and Essence, 3, 40–1. 12. Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, trans. Norman Kemp Smith, (London: Macmillan, 1958) B93,105–6. 13. See Bertrand Russell, The Problems of Philosophy, (London: Oxford University Press, 1970), 122–3. 14. David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, ed. L. A. Selby-Bigge, (Oxford: Oxford Univ. Press, 1967), 3. 15. Kant insists that existence is not to be included among the properties of a concept. (See Critique of Pure Reason, B625–628). But for Kant this distinction between property and existence holds in appearance and not in reality. Recall that existence is in his view an a priori category of the understanding. 16. Bertrand Russell, The Problems of Philosophy, 89. 17. Aquinas, Summa contra gentiles, Book Two: Creation, trans. J.F. Anderson (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1956), 53 [4], 156. 18. ———, Summa contra gentiles, 53 [4]; ———, Commentary, I.L.10: C 154, 64. 19. ———, Summa theologica, I q44, a3: reply obj.2; ———, On Being and Essence, 4, 46–7. 20. See chapter two, 66–71.

Chapter Five

Persons

A PROBLEM OF CONSISTENCY Some construe Aquinas’s view of persons as a case of defending two incompatible theses at once. A more sympathetic assessment is that it skirts extreme, one-sided accounts of what persons are and achieves the balanced truth. These impressions come out of Aquinas’s attempt to get between Plato and Aristotle on the issue of persons. With Plato St. Thomas holds that the human soul is immaterial and subsistent. But with Aristotle he holds that the soul is so closely related to the body as to be its very form. Can he have it both ways? Can he say that a person is composed of form and matter and yet not be identified with his or her body? Can he be, as he is, an Aristotelian on the matter of the soul’s relation to the body and yet deny, as he does, that the soul depends on the body to exist? This seeming contradiction is the outstanding problem in Aquinas’s philosophy of the person. A second and corresponding paradox greets Aquinas’s account of the will. Here again Aquinas is read either as both affirming and denying the freedom of the will or as striking a balance between freedom and determinism. Aquinas insists that human beings have free choice. Yet he affirms that the will is moved by the intellect as regards its object and is moved by God as regards its end. Once again, can it be both ways? Aquinas’s position here is not unlike that of today’s soft determinists. They too are seen by some as either trying to have it both ways on the issue of freedom or as achieving a mediating synthesis. In this chapter I consider these two paradoxes together with related matters in Aquinas’s philosophy of the person.

131

132

Chapter Five

APPROACHING A SOLUTION An answer to the first paradox comes from reviewing the theory of hylomorphism and Aquinas’s account of the nature and operations of the human soul. As to the former, what is true of other bodies is true of human bodies. And that is that they are both generated and corrupted. As such, our bodies are composed of form and matter. Form and matter are thus logically prior to our bodies just as they are to any other body. Further, we human beings fall under a genus and have a difference just like every other natural thing. A person is a rational animal where rational is difference and animal is genus. But genus signifies what is material in a thing while difference signifies what is formal. So persons are composed of matter and form as are all other natural things. But though persons are living bodies, the form of a person is not a body. That is because no form is possibly a body. For any body is composed of form together with matter and no part is the whole. Besides, no body is in something as in a subject. But form is in something as a subject. So, if the soul is defined as the form of the body, it follows that no soul is a body.1 Further, it is not by being body that something is living, says Aquinas. Otherwise all bodies are alive. Instead, something is living by virtue of being such a body, just as something is human by being such an animal. But that a thing is such a thing is due to its form. Thus, that Socrates is such an animal, i.e., a human animal, is due to the form rational. It follows that something is a living body by virtue of some form.2 But this form by virtue of which some body is living is not an accidental form, like green is accidental to apple. Otherwise, since the two are only accidentally different, a living thing has the same definition as a non-living thing. Therefore, the form by virtue of which some body is living is its essential or substantial form. It is, in other words, its first act or form, and not a secondary or accidental form.3 By analogy, the nature of being apple is the first form of an apple while its being green and crisp are secondary or accidental forms. In any case, this same first act or form by virtue of which some body is living is what Aquinas means by ‘soul.’ By ‘soul’ it is just meant the principle of life in what is living. From this broad definition of ‘soul’ it follows that plants and brute animals have souls too. But since difference is outside genus and is related to the latter as form to matter, plants and animals are living as opposed to non-living bodies by virtue of some form that is not itself a body. And all that is meant by ‘soul’ here is that very form. This must be borne in mind in order not to read into Aquinas the more narrow Cartesian sense of ‘soul.’ When ‘soul’ is the Cartesian res cogitans, it is evident that neither plants nor animals have souls.

Persons

133

FUNCTIONS OF THE SOUL AND THEIR RELATIONSHIPS Aquinas follows Aristotle not just in his definition of ‘soul’ but also in the matter of the soul’s functions. The nutritive soul has the functions of nutrition, growth, and reproduction, the animal soul has the additional function of sensation, and the human soul has all these functions plus the distinct function of reason.4 But there are not three souls in a person but only one. Otherwise, since soul is defined as first and not secondary or accidental act, any one person is three things and not one.5 Further, if a person is living by one soul, sentient by another, and rational by a third, then “Man is an animal” and “Animals are living things” are accidental predications. For things derived from various forms are predicated of one another accidentally. For example, sweet is accidentally predicated of white.6 But the foregoing are evidently essential and not accidental predications. One might object that it does not follow that these predications are accidental when the three souls are diverse. For the souls are subordinated to each other. Thus, the sense soul is subordinated to the intellectual soul and the nutritive soul is subordinated to the sensitive soul. But Aquinas counters that the sense soul is subordinated to the intellectual soul and the nutritive soul to the sensitive soul as the potential is subordinated to the actual. Therefore, if this order makes the foregoing predications essential and not accidental predications, it makes them that sort of essential predication in which subject is related to predicate as potentiality to actuality.7 This Aquinas calls the secondary type of essential predication. Examples of this are “The surface is white” and “The number is even.” Here subject is to predicate as the potential is to the actual. Here too, the subject is in each case included in the predicate and not the other way around. (By contrast, in totally accidental predication neither the subject nor the predicate are included in each other). But in “Man is an animal” and “Animals are living things,” it is just the other way around. Not only is subject related to predicate as the actual to the potential but also the predicate is included in the subject and not vice versa. And that is what Aquinas calls the first type of essential predication. Therefore, one cannot object that, due to the order of their subordination to each other, the diversity of the souls is compatible with the fact that the predications in question are essential predications. For the type of essential predication that follows from that subordination is secondary and not first essential predication, whereas “Man is an animal” and “Animals are living things” are evidently first essential predications. In sum, if it is by one soul that a person is man, by another that she is animal, and by a third that she is a living thing, then one of two falsehoods accrues. Either none of these things are

134

Chapter Five

predicated of each other except accidentally or else one is predicated of the other according to the secondary type of essential predication. Further, if a person is living by one form, an animal by another form, and rational by a third form, then to avoid saying that a person is three things and not one, one of these forms must be essential and the other two accidental. For whatever comes to a thing after or in addition to its substantial form comes to it accidentally.8 Suppose, then, that it is said that the nutritive form or soul is the one that is essential since being alive is essentially predicated of both man and animal. In that case, it follows that a person is accidentally animal and rational. Just as unacceptably does it follow that neither animal nor man signify a genus or species in the category of substance but instead denote something in one of the categories of accident.

THE PLATONIC VIEW REJECTED To the Platonic view that a person is a soul using a body, Aquinas responds that this means one of three things. First, that the intellectual soul uses a body; second, that all three souls use a body; and third, that two of the three souls use a body. If either the second or third alternative is true, then a person is not one being but two or three beings, and that is evidently false. Further, if either the second or the third option is true, then something must unite these separate souls in order for them to form one person. But this “something” cannot be the body since it is the body that is united together by the soul. This is shown by the fact that the body disintegrates after death. So that which unites the two or three souls must be still another formal principle or soul. But some further soul is then needed to unite this latter soul with the souls it unites, and so on, ad infinitum. Therefore, one must conclude that the second and third alternatives above are false and that a person is neither two souls using a body not three souls using a body.9 That leaves the first alternative. But even this view, which seems to have been Plato’s actual position on the question, is false. If one is identified with one’s immaterial, rational soul, then “Man is an animal” and “Man is corporeal” are accidental and not essential predications. And this, says Aquinas, is patently false.10 Besides, suppose that Socrates is simply identified with his rational soul. Then it follows that Socrates understands by his whole self and not by some part of himself. But this cannot be true since it is one and the same person, Socrates, who both understands and senses and who is conscious of doing both. But since one cannot sense without a body, the body is a part of what Socrates is. It follows that Socrates does not understand by his whole self but by something that belongs to Socrates, i.e. his intellect. But

Persons

135

then the Platonic thesis that persons are simply identified with their rational souls is false.11

SUBORDINATION OF FUNCTIONS For these as well as for other reasons, Aquinas concludes that a person is living, animal, and rational by one and the same soul or first act of the body. True, the human soul is distinctively rational. But that does not exclude its being virtually both sentient and living. And that is in fact the case. Just by being rational, the human soul automatically includes in it the powers of the sense and nutritive souls, just as a bishop automatically has the powers of a priest. In this same connection, Aquinas cites with approval Aristotle’s comparison of the various souls to types of geometrical figures one of which contains others. To expand Aristotle’s comparison, just as a hexagon virtually includes both a pentagon and a tetragon, so too the intellectual soul virtually includes whatever powers that belong to the sensitive and nutritive souls. And just as a hexagonal surface is not hexagonal by one shape, pentagonal by another and tetragonal by a third, so too a person is not rational by one form, animal by another and living by a third.12 All this is straightforward Aristotelianism. Soul in any living thing is the form of matter. From this Aristotle concludes that no soul exists without matter any more than can any other form can exist without matter. As a result, no soul survives the death of the body and there is no personal immortality. But St. Thomas disagrees. He argues that the human soul, at least, can exist without matter and hence that persons can survive death. True, anything corporeal is composed of matter and form and, vice versa, anything that is composed of matter and form is corporeal. But that does not imply that composites of matter and form are nothing but corporeal. Nor can that identification be made in the case of a human being. That is because the human form or soul has an act of existence that is independent of the body. The easiest way to show this, Aquinas thinks, is from the fact of intellectual knowledge. That fact implies that the soul’s activity, and hence its esse, is independent of matter.

IMMATERIALITY OF THE SOUL One line of argument for this in Aquinas runs as follows. Intellectual knowledge by definition extends to various things outside the mind. For such knowledge is knowledge of some essence or universal F which is or can be found in many particulars. Thus my concept of horse extends to many individuals. But

136

Chapter Five

if such knowledge were the reception of F in matter, then F would not extend to various things but would be restricted to some one particular thing. For matter is the principle of individuation. But in that case intellectual knowledge would not extend to many things and so would not be intellectual knowledge after all. Hence, in intellectual knowledge the form that is received in intellect is not received in matter. The receptive or passive intellect is therefore an immaterial potentiality.13 Stated differently, properties as received in intellect are predicable of many. In fact, the character of being predicable of many belongs to a property only as a result of its being received in intellect. But properties as existing in material things are not predicable of many. For matter is the principle of individuation and what is individual is impredicable. It follows that properties as received in intellect are not received in matter. Alternatively, since anything is what it is by virtue of its form, then anything is known for what it is only through knowledge of its form. But suppose things are known for what they are. Then, it is the very forms or determinate natures of such things that are known. But then, in coming to know things for what they are, it must be the identical forms of those things that a person comes to know and not forms other than or even like those forms. But that implies that coming to know a form F is a change in which a person goes from not knowing F to knowing F. The informed person goes from not having F in her mind to having F in her mind. Yet, in being actualized by the form F, the mind does not become an F-thing. By contrast, when matter is actualized by the form feline, it becomes a cat and when matter is actualized by the form round it becomes round. But the intellect does not become a cat or round in knowing what a cat or roundness is nor does something know what a cat or roundness is in becoming feline or round. Since in each case some potentiality for having a certain form is actualized by that form, what accounts for the difference? Aquinas answers that the potentiality that is actualized by form in knowledge is immaterial potentiality. Intellect does not physically become a cat in coming to know what a cat is because here form is not received in matter. To come to know forms, then, the passive intellect must be an immaterial or spiritual potentiality. Otherwise the difference between coming to know the form F and physically becoming the form F goes unexplained. Thus, Now, immutation is of two kinds, one natural, the other spiritual. Natural immutation takes place when the form of that which causes the immutation is received, according to its natural being, into the thing immuted, as heat is received into the thing heated. But spiritual immutation takes place when the form of what causes the immutation is received, according to a spiritual mode of being, into the thing immuted, as the form of color is received into the pupil which does not thereby become colored.14

Persons

137

This difference between the two types of change is behind another argument to show that the intellectual soul, though immaterial, is nonetheless so intimately tied to the body as to be its substantial form. Implicit in chapter two of On Being and Essence, the argument runs as follows. The nature of a thing is shown by its proper operation. As a being is, so it acts. But the proper operation of a human being is to understand. Hence, the principle of understanding, the intellect, either is or belongs to the nature of a human being. But the intellect is no body. Otherwise no account is given of the difference between coming to know F and physically becoming F, as was said above. Yet corporeity is essential to being human. Otherwise being an animal is accidentally and not essentially predicated of persons. Hence, the intellect is not identified with a person but, along with animality, belongs to the nature of a person. But as regards being human, animal is evidently the genus and understanding the difference. Moreover, genus is derived from matter and difference from form. For example, organism is open to, but not confined to, being animal. Otherwise to be an organism is to be an animal. Organism is therefore genus since it is open or potential to some difference or form that makes it animal. And that difference or form is sentience. Therefore, since in persons the genus is animal and the difference rational, the principle of understanding in persons, the rational soul, is related to the human body as its form. Another Thomist argument for the intellect’s immateriality turns on the intellect’s ability to know all bodies. Intellect is not restricted but can know any and all bodies. The irony is that this universality in range or scope on the part of the intellect—the fact that it is can know any and all bodies—excludes the intellect’s being itself a body. For suppose that the intellect is a certain body. To make the case plausible, suppose that it is identified with the brain. Then, since nothing is actually what it is potentially, it follows that the brain is not something which the intellect can come to know. If the intellect is the brain, then, so long as it is intellect, it always actually has the form of the brain. But if the intellect’s coming to know the brain is a case of its coming to receive the form of the brain, then the contradiction ensues that the intellect is both actually and potentially the brain at the same time. But it is a fact that not just the brain but any other body can come to be known by the intellect. It follows that the intellect is identified with no body whatsoever, not even the brain. Further, if the intellect is the brain or any other part of the body, then it is composed of form and matter just as is any other material thing. Otherwise hylomorphism is false. But matter does not exist apart from this matter any more than man exists apart from this man. So, if the intellect is the brain or any other bodily part, then it is composed of individual matter and form. But the intellect cannot be composed of individual matter and form. The reason

138

Chapter Five

for this is that the species of things understood, which are potentially intelligible as they exist in individual matter, are made actually intelligible only by being abstracted from individual matter.15 But for a species to be made actually intelligible by this abstracting activity of the intellect is just what it means for a species to be known. But when species are known they become one with the intellect. Otherwise it is not the species or forms of real things that the intellect knows but rather appearances only. Therefore, the intellect must also be without individual matter. Alternatively, the species of things are known only by being abstracted from individual matter, i.e. only by being actually intelligible. But since the actually intelligible and the intellect in act are one,16 the intellect too must be devoid of individual matter. In short, either the intellect does not know the species of things or else it is not composed of individual matter. Otherwise either the intellect is not one with the object known or species are not made actually intelligible by being abstracted from individual matter. But neither one of these alternatives is true. The same point can be made from the standpoint of the nature of the objects of intellect. If the intellect is some body like the brain, then it is composed of matter and form. But then, matter being the principle of individuation, the forms of things received in intellect are received as individuals. And then, to the extent that such reception results in knowledge, intellectual knowledge is knowledge of individuals only. But the reverse is true. The intellect’s objects are universals and not individuals. Therefore, the intellect is not composed of matter and form and so is no body. Yet, since the intellect moves from potentially knowing forms to actually knowing them, it might be countered that, though it is not a body, the intellect is nothing but the material potentiality within a person’s body to know forms, even though it is not itself a body. But this possibility must be rejected. Just because it is in potentiality to knowing many things, it does not follow that that potentiality is material potentiality or primal matter. Otherwise anything at all that is composed of primal matter is cognizant of the forms that specify it. And since all bodies are composed of primal matter and form, it follows that all bodies, even sticks and stones, know the forms by which they are characterized. Says Aquinas, Then, too, prime matter is not cognizant of the forms which it receives. If, then, the receptivity of the possible intellect were the same as that of prime matter, the possible intellect would not be cognizant of the forms received. And this is false.17

Still another argument for the soul’s immateriality is based on the activity of the intellect. The activity of understanding, says Aquinas, does not need a bodily organ. In this, understanding differs from sense. As regards the latter,

Persons

139

seeing takes place only through the eye, hearing only through the ear, smelling only through the nose, and so on. That means that the power of these activities also depends on the body. These sense activities, then, have as their subject the composite of body and soul and not soul alone.18 The reason for this is that as an act is, so is its power, a dictum that reflects the general principle that actuality determines potentiality. To spell it out, because sense operations take place only through an organ, then the power of the soul that is the principle of those operations is the act or form of the organ through which those operations are performed. Thus, sight is the act of the eye, sound the act of the ear, smell the act of the nose, and so on. By contrast, understanding does not take place through a bodily organ. Otherwise that organ would restrict and limit intellect to knowing just some intelligible things, as the eye restricts and limits sense to knowing just some sensible things, i.e. colors. The fact that sight knows colors and not sounds, tastes, or smells is not due to the sensitive power. For that power is of itself open to all sensible things, i.e. to colors, sounds, tastes, smells, and so on. Rather is the restriction of sight to colors (as its proper object) due to the fact that the power of sight is the act of the eye. And it is this matter, the eye, that restricts sight to colors. The same goes for the other sense powers. Their objects are restricted to certain sensible things because in their case too, the sense power in question is the act of a bodily organ. Because hearing is the act of the ear, the objects of hearing are limited to sounds. Because the power of smell is the act of the nose, the objects of that power are limited to odors, and so on. But while the sense powers are limited to certain sensible objects, the power of understanding is not limited to certain intelligible objects. By the understanding, any and all intelligible things are known. Nor is understanding limited to intelligible things only. Understanding knows not only any intelligible object but it also knows (though cannot sense) any proper sensible. Intellect not only knows what a toad, a tree, a triangle, and the number three is, but it also knows what a sound, a taste, or a smell is. Therefore, since its objects are not restricted and such restriction is due to a bodily organ, Aquinas concludes that understanding does not take place through a bodily organ. It is not the act of a bodily organ.19 It is to that extent independent of the body. But if so, then going once again by the dictum that power follows act, it follows that the power of understanding in the soul is independent of the body and therefore has as its subject not the composite of body and soul but the soul alone.20 AN OBJECTION ANSWERED The obvious reply here is that the intellect exercises its function only through the brain, even if it is not identified with the brain. And then intellect is like

140

Chapter Five

sense after all. As sight needs the eye to see, so too does intellect need the brain to understand. The brain is then the organ of thought as the eye is the organ of sight or the ear is the organ of hearing. One could even push the analogy further and say that as sight is the act of the eye so too is thought the act or function of the brain. Aquinas would reply by distinguishing intrinsic and extrinsic dependence. When it concerns the latter, it is consistent with St. Thomas’s view to say that the intellect needs the brain to exercise its function. But the brain is not the cause or ground of the former, but a necessary extrinsic condition of the former. If the intellect needs the brain to think as sight needs light to see, then it follows that one cannot think without a brain any more than one can see without light. But because one cannot think without a brain it does not follow either that the brain enters into the definition of thought or that thought is the brain’s function. By analogy, from the fact that one cannot see without light it does not follow either that light is part of the definition of sight or that seeing is the function of light. True, since he holds that all knowledge is derived from sense experience and the latter requires matter, Aquinas believes that even intellectual knowledge needs matter as an extrinsic condition. But from that it cannot be inferred that the intellect intrinsically depends on the brain for its activity. The brain is not the matter of which the intellect is the form or act. It is not the organ whose function is thought as the eye is the organ whose function is sight or ear is the organ whose function is hearing. Some might object that this extrinsic dependence of thought on brain activity does not go far enough. They would opt for a closer tie between them. Under this more intimate tie, thought is simply a function of the brain as sight is the function of the eye. But Aquinas would invite those who favor that view to consider its consequences. If thought and brain are intrinsically linked in this way, then, being matter, brain would restrict or limit the intellect to knowing only some intelligible things just as the ear limits sensing to sounds. Besides, as matter, the brain would restrict or limit the intellect in another way. The reason why the object of sight is this or that color and not just color as such is that matter is the principle of individuation. It is because sight is the act of matter (the eye) that the object of sight is this or that color and not just color. It is because hearing is the act of matter (the ear) that the object of hearing is this or that sound and not just sound. And so is it with all the other sense powers. So, if the intellect too is the act or function of matter, i.e. the brain, then its objects would be particular and not universal. But in fact it is just the opposite. What the intellect knows are universals and not particulars. Even sensible universals like color as such or sound as such are known by intellect and not by sense. To even the score, this color or that sound is known by sense and not by intellect. As Kant was to emphasize

Persons

141

centuries later, sense and understanding cannot exchange their functions or objects. In any case, since matter is the cause of individuation and the objects of the intellect are universals and not particulars, it follows that the intellect is not the act or form of the brain, or for that matter, the act or form of any other bodily organ.21

INTELLECT: NEITHER SUBSTANCE NOR ACT OF THE BRAIN That understanding as opposed to sensing is not intrinsically dependent on an organ, even the brain, seems to imply that the intellect is a separate substance. But this Platonism as regards the intellectual soul Aquinas also denies. Just because it is not the act or form of an organ it does not follow that the intellect is an independent substance in its own right. Otherwise a person is not one substance but two. If Socrates’ intellect is one substance and his body another, then Socrates is not unqualifiedly one. Insisting that the soul is a separate substance, Plato answers this difficulty of unity by identifying Socrates with his soul. Thus, Socrates is a soul using a body rather than being a composite of two substances, soul and body, just as Peter is not composed of man and clothes but is a man using clothes.22 But as was pointed out previously, this solution simply exchanges one error for another.23 If Socrates is identified with his immaterial intellectual soul, then Socrates’ body is accidental to Socrates. And from that it follows that, since animal includes body, being an animal is accidentally predicated of Socrates. But from this it follows that animal is not the genus of human. Since that is intolerable, it cannot be said that Socrates is identified with his immaterial soul. Plato is caught in the dilemma of either denying the unity of humans or denying that animal is the genus of human. Even so, Plato correctly holds that the human soul is immaterial. For its characteristic function, understanding, is only extrinsically and not also intrinsically dependent on matter. The intellectual soul, then, is both intrinsically independent of matter for its activity and also the form of the body. Prima facie these two assertions conflict. But deny either one and you come to grief. If you say that the soul is a separate, self-subsistent substance, then you ruin a person’s unity. If soul and body in Socrates are two things, then Socrates is two things and not one. But Socrates is evidently one substance. Besides, if Socrates is two substances accidentally united, then what coordinates these substances? If it is said that a third substance does this, then a fourth substance is necessary to coordinate the three, and so on, ad infinitum. Plato’s answer to this is that the soul is the controlling substance and that the body is the controlled or directed substance. And as regards the question of unity, Plato’s answer is that a person like

142

Chapter Five

Socrates is identified with his soul. But the effect of this move is to deny that animal is the genus of Socrates, since being a body is essential to animal. So anyone who makes the soul a separated substance saves personal unity at the cost of denying that being human includes being an animal. At the other extreme, if the intellectual power is a function of the brain or some part of it, then the objects of the intellect are restricted in two ways. First, as regards their range or scope. Certain intelligible things are known by intellect and not others, just as the power of sight knows colors but not sounds. Second, those objects are restricted as regards their status. They are limited to this or that thing, as sight senses this or that color. But the intellectual power of the soul is restricted in neither one of these ways. Intellect not only can know any arbitrarily selected intelligible object but it is not restricted to knowing just instantiations of intelligible objects, to knowing only this or that object. For the intellect’s objects are universals. Therefore, the intellectual power is not a function of the brain or any part of the brain. Nor is the intellectual power the very form of the brain or any part of it, as was said. For in that case the forms received by the intellect in knowledge are received in matter. And then, since matter is the principle of individuation, intellectual knowledge does not extend to various things. But intellectual knowledge does extend to many things since the objects of that knowledge are universals and universals by definition extend to or are predicable of many.

IMMATERIALITY ONCE AGAIN This occasions another argument for the soul’s immateriality. It turns on linking three things, i.e. object, act, and source or subject. Things are understood according to the intellect’s own mode, i.e. according as they are abstracted from or taken apart from matter. That is because the forms existing in matter are individual forms and the intellect does not know individuals as such. So the objects of intellect are universal, i.e. objects that are taken apart from matter. But the status of its object is a sign of the status of the act or operation whose object it is. Hence, intellectual activity is activity that is also independent of matter. But the act or operation of anything is in accordance with the being of the subject or principle of the operation. For mode of action follows mode of being. Therefore, the intellectual soul in a person is also apart from matter or immaterial.24 Thus, 1. The status of an act is known by its objects. 2. But the objects of understanding, universals, are immaterial. 3. Hence, the acts of understanding are immaterial.

Persons

143

4. But the mode of an act reflects the mode of being of its subject. 5. Therefore, the human intellectual soul is immaterial. One knows the status of a cognitive power from the status of its objects. But in the order of being (as opposed to that of knowing) the status of the power determines the status of the object. Since there are three grades of powers i.e. sense, intellectual, and intuitive, it follows that there are three grades of objects. These are, respectively, individuals, material essences, and immaterial essences. Thus, because the sense powers are the very forms of bodily organs (as for example, sight is the form or act of the eye) it follows that the objects of sense are individual and concrete. Moreover, from knowing that these same objects are individual and concrete instead of being universal and abstract, we can infer that the corresponding powers are so many forms or acts of matter. By the same token, because the intellectual power is not the form of an organ, it follows that the objects of that power are not particular and concrete but rather universal and abstract. Furthermore, from knowing that these same objects are universal and abstract we can infer that the corresponding intellectual power is not the form or act of an organ.

POWER OF THE SOUL VERSUS ITS ESSENCE Yet one must distinguish the power of the soul from its essence. And when one does, the paradox is this: that while the soul’s intellectual power is not the act or form of matter the soul’s essence is. For the soul is the form of the body. That explains why the intellect’s proper objects are material and not immaterial essences. Though they are admittedly universal, the intellect’s proper objects include common matter in their concepts. Thus flesh and bone (as opposed to this flesh and these bones) enter into the idea of a horse. Suppose, then, that there is a cognitive power which is like our intellectual power in that it is not the act of any organ but which is unlike our intellectual power in that its essence is not the form or act of matter. Then, says Aquinas, the proper object of such a power would exclude both individual and common matter. In short, the proper objects of this intuitive power would be non-material or spiritual essences. Such an intuitive cognitive power, Aquinas holds, is found in angels. Says Aquinas, I answer that, as stated above, the object of knowledge is proportionate to the power of knowledge. Now there are three grades of the cognitive powers. For one cognitive power, namely, the sense, is the act of a corporeal organ. And therefore the object of every sensitive power is a form as existing in corporeal matter; and as such

144

Chapter Five

matter is the principle of individuation, therefore every power of the sensitive part can have knowledge only of particulars. There is another grade of cognitive power which is neither the act of a corporeal organ, nor in any way connected with corporeal matter. Such is the angelic intellect, the object of whose cognitive power is therefore a form existing apart from matter; for though angels know material things, they do not know them save in something immaterial, namely, either in themselves or in God. But the human intellect holds a middle place; for it is not the act of an organ, and yet it is a power of the soul, which is the form of the body, as is clear from what we have said above. And therefore it is proper to it to know a form existing individually in corporeal matter, but not existing in this individual matter. But to know what is in individual matter, yet not as existing in such matter, is to abstract the form from individual matter which is represented by the phantasms. Therefore we must needs say that our intellect understands material things by abstracting from phantasms; and that through material things thus considered we acquire some knowledge of immaterial things, just as, on the contrary, angels know material things through the immaterial.25

Aquinas would therefore counter the seeming contradiction that the soul is both independent of the body and the body’s form by distinguishing the power of the soul from its essence or substance. The essence of the soul is not its power. Power is correlated to activity and power and act must be referred to the same genus or category. But activity is not in the genus of substance or essence but in the category of accident. But soul is in the genus of substance or essence. Therefore, the essence of the soul is not its power.26 Further, as substantial form of the body, the soul is first act of the body and not second act or act that is ordained to further act. Therefore, for the soul to be in potentiality to another act (which it is when, for example, it senses or understands) does not belong to it according to its essence as a form but according to its power.27 In any case, given this distinction between essence and power, one can say the following: that while it is by its power that the soul performs its characteristic activities, it is through its essence that the soul gives existence to the body. If, then, the activity of the soul is carried out through a bodily organ, then the power of the soul that is the principle of that activity is the act of some bodily organ. However, if that activity is not effected by means of a bodily organ, then the corresponding power of the soul is not the act of any organ. But since, for the reasons given, intellectual activity is not carried out through a bodily organ, then the intellectual power in humans is separate from a bodily organ. But this separateness from matter as regards its intellectual power is consistent with the soul’s being, so far as its essence is concerned, the very form of the body.28 The two assertions are both entirely compatible and indispensable to understanding the nature of a human being.

Persons

145

Behind this distinction of essence and power is the wider distinction between essence and existence. Activity is to power as act is to potentiality. But activity is secondary act, act that follows on what is act in a prior sense. But act in the primal sense is existence and not essence. Therefore, because intellectual activities are separate from matter for the reasons given, it follows that the primal act from which those activities proceed, the soul’s existence, is also separate from matter. For as always with Aquinas, activity follows being where by ‘being’ it is meant existence as well as essence. This is best put adverbially and not adjectivally. Through its intellectual power, the soul acts immaterially. So the soul must be immaterially. Even so, a whole other dimension of the soul is its essence. And when the soul is viewed from this angle, it is seen as that through which being is given to a human body. For essence or substantial form in Aquinas is always that in and through which something exists. What the soul (i.e. its essence) is is the form of a human body. Thus, essence being what the definition signifies, body enters into the definition of the soul. But this is quite compatible with saying that the soul’s act of existence is independent of the body or any bodily organ. Hence the importance of the essence-existence distinction for understanding Aquinas’s philosophy of the person. AQUINAS’S MODIFICATION OF ARISTOTLE But right here a final objection emerges. And that is that under hylomorphism, form cannot exist without matter any more than matter can exist without form. Therefore, Aquinas must choose between denying that the soul is form of the body and denying that the soul can exist apart from the body. He cannot have it both ways and cling to the Aristotelian theory of hylomorphism. Aquinas would concede that he cannot have it both ways and keep the Aristotelian view of hylomorphism. But he would add that his own view of hylomorphism differs from Aristotle’s on the notion of form. Though he affirms that matter exists only through form, he denies that form exists only in and through matter. If something loses being then it loses its form and, vice versa, if it loses its form then it loses being. Yet, in each case the matter remains. That shows that being is more closely tied to form than it is to matter. When a horse loses being it ipso facto loses the form of being a horse and when a horse loses the form of being a horse it ipso facto loses being. It is no longer the act of existence of a horse. But in each case the matter remains throughout as enduring substrate. That shows a tie between esse and form that is absent between esse and matter. It is just this: that though a thing’s being is not included in its form (otherwise, no being is contingent), it nonetheless belongs to it through its

146

Chapter Five

form and not through its matter.29 So form is directly tied to existence in a way that matter is not. Since, then, matter has being only through form but form for its part does not have being only through matter, then while matter cannot be without form, form can be without matter. In short, if form is equivalent to (though not identical with) being and matter is not, then form is inequivalent to matter. That inequivalence means that either matter can be without form or form can be without matter. But since it is form that makes matter be and not vice versa,30 then matter evidently cannot be without form. Therefore, form can be without matter. But if so, then one compatibly holds both that the human soul is form of the body and that it can exist without the body. It depends on the body for the completion of its essence but is independent of the body for its act of existence.

POWERS OF THE SOUL The distinction between the soul’s essence and its power to which reference was previously made leads to the subject of the various powers of the soul. Here, St. Thomas distinguishes five genera of powers in the soul. They are the vegetative, the sensitive, the appetitive, the locomotive, and the intellectual. In this division he follows Aristotle. These powers are divided by their objects. That is because powers are divided by their acts and acts are divided by their objects.31 In any case, the higher a power is, says Aquinas, the more universal is the object to which it extends.32 In this relation there is a triple order. The vegetative power is on the lowest level. That is because, acting only on the body itself to which soul is united, the vegetative power has as its object the body itself. This is shown in each one of the three powers into which the vegetative power subdivides, i.e. the augmentative, the nutritive, and the generative powers. The first of these is the power whereby the organism acquires its size or quantity. The operation of this power, growing, evidently has the body itself as its object. The same is true of the nutritive power. When food is assimilated to form new tissue, this operation again has only the body itself as its object. So, since power follows act, the nutritive power has only the body as its object. Finally, by the activity of reproduction or generation, new matter, i.e. seeds or eggs, are produced in the organism. Since this operation again directly has the body itself as its object (seeds and eggs being produced in the generating body), the generative power directly has the body as its object. But Aquinas notes that since seeds or eggs may be transferred from the generating body to some extrinsic body (and so extends to an object beyond its own body), it follows that the generative power approaches the level of universality of the next highest power, the sensitive power.33 For the object

Persons

147

of the operation of sensing, and hence of the power of sense, is not just the body of the sensing agent but all extrinsic bodies. Sensing agents see, hear, touch, etc. not just their own bodies but, more universally, all or many sensible bodies. Aquinas thinks that this is just one instance of the general rule of hierarchy according to which the highest notch on any lower level of the chain of being approaches the lowest notch on the immediately higher level. Above the vegetative powers is the sensitive power. The priority is due to the fact, just stated, that the object of sensing is more universal than the object of vegetative activity. Sensing, and hence the power of sense, extends to extrinsic sensible objects. Unlike vegetative activity and power, its object is not just the body of the composite whose subject it is. Even more universal in this respect is the object of understanding and hence of the intellectual power. Understanding extends not only to all extrinsic sensible beings but to any and all extrinsic beings, whether they are sensible or not. Intellect has universal being as its object. Therefore, the intellectual power is the highest power of the soul. The relative priority of a power in the soul is shown not only by the scope of its object but also by the extent to which it is end or final cause of other powers. The priority here is logical and not temporal. Sense is the good or perfection of life and not vice versa. And understanding is the good or perfection of sense and not the other way around. Therefore, the sense power is higher than the nutritive power and the intellectual power is higher than the sense power.34 And in this sense of final cause, the higher power is the source of the lower power. But in another sense of ‘source,’ the lower power is the source of the higher. This is the case when ‘source’ means not final or efficient cause but material cause. From this standpoint of material development, the nutritive power is prior to the sense power and the sense power is prior to the intellectual power. But here, the priority is temporal and not logical. Temporally speaking, non-sensitive life came first. Out of this life came sentient life. Then, finally, out of sentient life, came intelligent life. Plants preceded animals and animals preceded humans.35 As regards activities or operations of the soul, Aquinas says something else. And that is that whatever operates must in some way be united to its object.36 In the case of vegetative operations this is clear. The vegetative powers evidently all have acts that bear upon the body that is united to them. The object of growing and assimilating food is the very body of the composite of body and soul which is the subject of those operations. But Aquinas thinks that this principle holds for sensitive, intellectual, and appetitive operations as well. From this same principle it follows, he says, that the extrinsic object of these latter operations must be related to the soul in either one of two unifying ways.

148

Chapter Five

First, the extrinsic object has a natural aptitude to be united to the soul. Thus, both a sensible object such as a color or sound and an intelligible object such as the form or essence of a thing, can be by its likeness in the soul. And according to this kind of unity of soul as operating and object two powers are distinguished, i.e. the sensitive and intellectual powers. Second, the soul itself (as opposed to its object) has a natural tendency or inclination towards the object. And according to this way of unity, there are again two powers, namely, appetitive and locomotive. As regards the first, the soul is referred to its extrinsic object as an end. For just by being first in the order of intention an end is in the soul as something sought. As for the second, the soul is here referred to an extrinsic object as the term of movement in the sense of natural desire. Thus, to the extent that animals are moved by natural desire to travel to the source of food and water, they are through this inclination of their souls united to the objects of their desire.37

IMMANENT AND TRANSIENT ACTIVITY But whether it is growing, assimilating food, reproducing, sensing, understanding, or willing, these activities of the various powers in the soul are classified by Aquinas as being immanent and not transient activity. To bring out the difference, consider first transient activity. As the name implies, transient activity carries over to something over and above the activity itself. This is the end or goal of the activity. But for Aquinas, the end of any activity is the good of both that activity and of the agent engaged in it. For the end of anything is its good. And since the good of anything is its perfection, it follows that in transient activity the end of the activity is the perfection of both the activity in question and the agent engaged in it. Typically, transient activity begins in agents but ends in the production of some thing or state of a thing in something else. Thus, building begins in the carpenter and ends in a house. From what has just been said, the house in this example is the end, good, or perfection both of the activity of building and of the carpenter qua building. Atypically, transient activity begins in an agent and ends in the same agent. Suppose a physician treats his own wound. Here, action begins in the agent and ends in the production of a change in a bodily part of the agent himself. Yet even here there is transitivity. The action is means to an end that is distinct from the action itself. The physician’s act begins in his psyche and ends in quite a different part of himself. In any case, since it is always good for something else beyond itself, transient action derives value from the end it serves, as surgery derives its value from the health it produces.

Persons

149

Further, transient action is always accidental and never essential to the agent whose action it is. Thus building is not essential but accidental to persons because it is not as persons that they build. This implies that in transient action agents act in some specialized and incidental capacity. Thus, in building, persons act as builders and not as persons. This is the case in all crafts. That is why in building as in other crafts means and end-result, cause and effect, exclude each other. The means or cause in building, the transient activity of builders, neither is nor is included in the end or effect, the house. And that is true in all transient activity. It can be said, then, that something is a transient action of an agent if and only if it is the action of an agent in some specialized or incidental capacity and is neither identical with nor part of the effect it produces. From this it follows that if a person acts just as a person and not as in some incidental capacity, then his or her action is neither transient action nor is it the means or cause of some end or effect that is above and beyond itself. Such is the case with immanent activity. Immanent activity is always the activity of a thing just as that kind of thing. It is not the activity of a thing as in some incidental capacity. For as the name implies, immanent activity does not pass over to some end or effect that is beyond and distinct from the activity itself. Instead, the activity is itself end or effect. Growing and the assimilation of food are examples of immanent activity. They are activities that belong to an organism just as organism. They do not pass over into some external thing or state as end or effect but rather both begin and end in the organism itself. Moreover, since it is itself end and the activity of an organism as organism, growing or assimilating food is the good of the organism as organism. So immanent activity not only begins and ends in an agent but it also perfects the agent. This runs parallel to what is the case in transient activity. The end of a person as builder, building, is the good of a person as builder (but not as person) and hence perfects the person as builder (though again, not as person). Correspondingly, growing or maturing, which is the good of an organism as organism, perfects the organism. Or take the sentient activities of animals. Since these belong to animals as animals, they are immanent activities and hence constitute the end and good of animals as animals. Thus, seeing and hearing begin and end in the animal and also perfect the animal. The important difference is that in immanent activity, it is the activity itself that is end, good, and perfection of the subject rather than being, as it is in transient activity, simply a means to some further extrinsic end or good. In sum, the following both imply and are implied by each other: a) being an immanent activity, b) being the end, good, and perfection of the agent just as agent, c) being the kind of activity of a thing just as that kind of thing, d) being an activity that is not simply a means to some end beyond itself and e) being an

150

Chapter Five

activity that does not find its perfection in something else to which it is directed as end but is itself the perfection of the agent qua kind of thing it is. By the same token, the following also both imply and are implied by each other and so are equivalent notions: a’) being a transient activity, b’) being the end, good, and perfection of the agent qua acting in some specialized capacity, c’) being the activity of a thing in some incidental capacity, d’) being an activity that is always a means to some extrinsic end, and e’) being an activity that finds its perfection in something else to which it is directed as end and not an activity that perfects the agent qua kind of thing it is.

ACTIVE VERSUS PASSIVE INTELLECTUAL POWER To recur to the intellectual power, included under this heading are both passive and active intellectual powers. About the passive intellect enough has been said. But one element in the previous account of the receptive or passive intellect introduces the active intellect. And that is the function of abstracting from individual matter. Aquinas goes by the general dictum that whatever receives anything receives it according to its own manner.38 But as opposed to prime matter, the intellect receives form immaterially and universally. Otherwise, for intellect to know a certain form F that exists in matter is for it physically to become another instance of that form. From this it follows not only that the passivity of the receptive intellect is immaterial but also that, to make it conform to the universal way in which the passive intellect receives form, some intellectual power strips the form of its individuality. And since individuality is due to matter, it has a power the function of which is to de-materialize things.39 That power is what Aquinas calls the active intellect. It is the active as opposed to the passive side of the understanding. And its sole function is abstraction. Now in abstraction, something is taken into consideration and something is left out. In one type of abstraction, what may be called imaginative abstraction, one part of a concrete whole is considered apart from the other parts. Thus, I imagine the head of a horse without its body. This, though, is not the kind of abstraction that Aquinas attributes to the active intellect. For though what is left out of consideration in this abstraction is individual, what is taken into consideration is also individual. The head of the horse is this head of this horse. But what is taken into consideration by the abstraction of the active intellect is universal. Thus, by the active intellect horseness itself is abstracted from individual horses. Here, what in sense images or phantasms is abstracted from is the individuality of particular horses and what remains is universal and not individual. Aquinas agrees with Aristotle’s comparison of

Persons

151

the active or agent intellect to light.40 The active intellect is required for understanding as light is required for seeing. What in phantasms the active intellect illumines or makes knowable to the passive intellect are the forms or natures of individual things in the world. This it does by focusing on those forms or natures in abstraction from the individual conditions in which they are found, just as one focuses a flashlight on the keyhole of a door in abstraction from other parts of the door. This evidently presupposes that the forms or essences of things must first be in the phantasms of sense. Nothing can be abstracted from sense perception unless it is in the first place given in sense perception. And to answer the objection that this implies that the universal forms or natures of things are known by sense Aquinas would add that not everything that is given in sense perception is recognized by sense perception. The senses do not know the contents of all the baggage they receive.

TYPES OF ABSTRACTION Moreover, corresponding to different types of real relations in things are different types of abstraction. To the real relation of an accidental, quantitative form to matter corresponds the abstraction of such a form from its matter. Thus, ovalness is abstracted from a stone. This Aquinas calls abstractio formae a materia sensibili.41 To the real relation of essential form taken as a logical whole to its parts corresponds the abstraction of that whole from its parts. Thus we have either the abstraction of species from indivduals (i.e. human from Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, etc.) or the abstraction of genus from species (i.e.animal form horse, lion, bear, etc.). This Aquinas calls abstractio totius.42 The two types of abstraction have been called, respectively, formal and total abstraction. Despite the foregoing examples, the difference between them is not that the former is the abstraction of an accidental, mathematical form from individual matter while the latter is the abstraction of an essential, nonmathematical form from individual matter. The difference instead turns on whether what is abstracted is cut off by the mind from matter or not. A form may be abstracted from a material individual in such a way that it is impredicable of that individual. Thus, ovalness is impredicable of a stone and humanity is impredicable of Socrates. Here, ovalness and humanity are abstracted from things in precision from matter. We cannot say either that this stone is ovalness or that Socrates is humanity. Otherwise we should say that a whole is one of its parts. But by contrast, a form might be abstracted from a material individual in such a way that it is predicable of that individual. Thus, oval is predicated of a stone and human is predicated of Socrates. We can say that the stone is oval or that Socrates is human. In any case, when they

152

Chapter Five

talk of formal abstraction, Thomists refer to the former and when they speak of total abstraction, they refer to the latter. Use of the analogy of light in connection with the active intellect inevitably recalls St. Augustine’s doctrine of divine illumination. But the influence on Aquinas here is not St. Augustine but Aristotle. For one thing, the illumination Augustine refers to is due directly to God and not to a power in each one of us. For another, the function of divine illumination in Augustine is not to abstract forms or essences from their individual conditions but to reveal to us the character of necessity in a priori truths. Nevertheless, Aquinas does not doubt that the power of the active intellect in each person to illumine phantasms in us is derived from a higher intellect which he identifies with God.43 In this connection, he quotes Psalm 4,6: “The light of your countenance, O Lord, is stamped upon us.” And so, to the extent that he holds that we know nothing without the power of our active intellect and that the latter is derived from God, Aquinas is one with Augustine in believing that our knowledge depends on God. But the kind of knowledge for which we need God’s help is different for each philosopher. While in Augustine we depend on God’s light to see the necessity in a priori truths, in Aquinas we ultimately depend on God’s light even for our empirical knowledge of things, i.e. for our abstracting the forms of things from sense images or phantasms. In any case, the reason why our intellectual power is derived from the higher intellect of God is that the human soul is intellectual only by participation. This is shown by the fact that the human soul is not wholly intellectual but only partly so. For unlike separate substances, it has this other thing, matter (the body), joined to it. But whatever is not some form F by itself but has another thing joined to it is F by participation and not F pure and simple. For example, since any contingent being is not just being but has this other thing, essence, joined to it, then any contingent being has being participatively. And that means that its being is derived from something that has being non-participatively. It follows that the human soul is intellectual by virtue of some higher intellect that is intellectual per se or by its whole nature rather than by part of its nature.

INTELLECT AS LIMITED Moreover, that our intellect is limited and imperfect is shown by the fact that it passes in knowledge from potentiality to act. It does not know everything it knows all at once or intuitively. Instead, most of its knowledge is non-intuitive and discursive, either by way of composing and dividing (judging) or by way of reasoning. Since in both judging and reasoning our intellect moves

Persons

153

from potentially knowing to actually knowing, it is susceptible of being perfected in its knowledge. But only what is imperfect can be perfected. Thus, . . . For since the intellect passes from potentiality to act, it has a likeness to generable things, which do not attain to perfection all at once but acquire it by degrees. In the same way, the human intellect does not acquire perfect knowledge of a thing by the first apprehension; but it first apprehends something of the thing, such as its quiddity, which is the first and proper object of the intellect; and then it understands the properties, accidents, and various dispositions affecting the essence. Thus it necessarily relates one thing with another by composition or division; and from one composition and division it necessarily proceeds to another, and this is reasoning.44

Further, from the fact that our intellect moves from potentiality to act in this way it follows not only that it is imperfect but also that it is derived from a higher intellect. For since it passes from potentiality to act in knowing, our intellect must rely on some efficient cause outside of itself to do so. It does not move itself to understand but must be helped to understand by a higher intellect.45 Finally, what intellect first conceives, says Aquinas, is being. That it does by its first operation which is apprehension. But no fact or principle is understood by the second operation of intellect, i.e. composing and dividing (judging), says Aquinas, unless the principle of non-contradiction is understood, i.e. that a thing or being cannot both be and not be at the same time in the same way. But further, no conclusion is understood by reasoning unless something is understood by judgment. For all reasoning to conclusions is from judgments. Furthermore, the law of non-contradiction is understood only if the concept of being is understood since the former includes the latter. From all this it follows that nothing is understood by either apprehension, judgment, or reasoning unless being is understood. From this it also follows that since reasoning depends on judging and judging depends on simple apprehension then all our intellectual operations depend on simple apprehension and more particularly on the simple apprehension of being.46

TRUE AND GOOD COMPARED Persons both know and want things. They do the former by the power of intellect and the latter by the power of will. Moreover, since one only wants what one knows, knowing things is a condition of wanting them. Since will aims at the understood good, the intellect moves the will as an end.47 In that sense does the intellect logically precede the will. Moreover, since knowing

154

Chapter Five

something precedes wanting it and truth relates to knowing while good relates to wanting, the object of the intellect, true, is by nature prior to the object of the will, good.48 Included in and hence prior to both true and good is the idea of being. Truth adds to being the idea of good or perfectiveness in relation to intellect.49 This relation can run either way. Truth is being either as perfective of, or as perfected by, intellect. The first is being in intellect as the end of intellect. This is judgmental truth in which being specifies or informs the (passive) intellect as the actual informs or fulfills the potential. And as the actual perfects or is the end and good of the potential, being as it is in intellect, i.e. truth, perfects or is the act, end, and good of the intellect. Thus, I truly judge that S is P because what I judge or what specifies or actualizes my intellect in so judging is the very likeness of being or fact. In this way can it be said that being is perfective of intellect in judgmental truth. The second is once again being in intellect. But it is being in intellect not as the end of intellect but as the end of being. This is ontological truth in which the very likeness of some Idea or model in intellect is in being or reality as the actual is in the potential. And once again, as the actual perfects and is the end and good of the potential, this Idea or model in intellect, i.e. truth, perfects or is the end and good of being. Thus, an artisan’s product is called true because the form that actualizes it is the very likeness of the artisan’s ideal model. And natural things are called true because their forms are the very likenesses of the Ideas of them in God’s intellect. In this way can it be said that intellect is perfective of being in ontological truth. But in either case, truth is a relation of conformity of intellect and being. And that relation is either one of being’s conforming to intellect or of intellect’s conforming to being.50 Under this view of truth, therefore, truth is in intellect and not in things, except in relation to intellect.51 On the other hand, good adds to being the idea of perfectiveness or end absolutely speaking. It does not add the idea of an end to being in relation to intellect or any other particular thing. Good adds to being the idea of being an end to any potentiality whatsoever, i.e. the idea of being an end period.52 In this way is good the genus of true, the latter being a type or species of good, i.e. the good of the intellect.53 Moreover, since what perfects potentiality is act and act is the end of potentiality, good adds to being the idea of being an end with respect to that of which it is the end. Further, something is not called good because it is perfected but because it perfects. Good is what perfects or fulfills any potentiality, cognitive or real. But since what perfects potentiality is actuality and the actual is the end of the potential, then good has the nature of act and end. Thus, form is the good of matter, and existence, the act of all acts, is the good of essence. So good is being as desirable, as the term, goal, or end of some activity, tendency, or appetite. It is actual fulfillment with re-

Persons

155

spect to what has potentiality for, or is bent toward, that fulfillment. What good is is seen by contrasting it with its opposite, evil. As evil consists in a thing’s being defective in some way, i.e. in its lacking a form it ought to have, so good consists in a thing’s having the form it ought to have. Good and true, as well as their respective powers, will and intellect, mutually include each other as genus includes species. “The intellect understands the will and the will wills the intellect to understand.”54 As to their objects, to the extent that truth is a kind of good, i.e. that toward which intellect tends, good is universal and truth particular. In this way is good prior to truth as genus is prior to species. One can say that truth and falsehood are the good and evil, respectively, of intellect.55 Like any other thing, intellect is good when it has the form it ought to have and evil when it lacks that form.56 But as a knowing power, the form it ought to have is the form of another.57 So intellect is good when it is true, i.e. when it has in it the likeness of the real or factual, and intellect is evil when it is false, i.e. when it lacks or falls short of that likeness. On the other hand, to the extent that good is a kind of being and hence intelligible or true, true or being is universal and good particular. Since, as knowable, good is one among a myriad of things that is a possible object of intellect, it follows that good is a species of the true. In this way is truth prior to good, once again as genus is logically prior to species.58 Yet as was mentioned, behind both true and good is the idea of being, which is the absolutely first thing the intellect conceives. No concept in the first act of the intellect, simple apprehension, is understood unless being is understood. Behind the concepts of tree, animal, stone, atom, etc. is the idea of being. Moreover, nothing is understood in the second act of the mind, i.e. judgment, unless the law of non-contradiction is understood in judgment. Behind my understanding “Humans are animals,” “Stones are composed of atoms,” “These trees are oaks,” etc. is “Nothing can simultaneously both be F and not be F” or “No judgment is both true and false.” Further, according to Aquinas, nothing is understood by the third act of the mind, reason, unless something is understood by judgment. For knowledge of the conclusions of reason depend on knowledge of the premises, and this is knowledge by judgment. But now, the law of non-contradiction in judgment is understood only if the idea of being is understood in simple apprehension. Therefore, nothing at all is understood by simple apprehension, judgment, or reason unless being is understood by simple apprehension.59 In any case, besides these powers of the intellect, i.e., apprehending, judging, and reasoning, there are two powers of the will, i.e. willing ends and choosing means. But the functioning of a power is related to that power as act to potentiality, and act always perfects potentiality.60 As a power, then, intellect is perfected when it actually apprehends, actually judges, and actually

156

Chapter Five

reasons, and will is perfected when it actually wills and chooses. All these operations are done either well or not well. One apprehends the essence or nature of a thing either adequately or inadequately. One judges either truly or falsely, and one reasons either validly or invalidly. Just so, one chooses either virtuously or viciously. Moreover, in knowing we move by reason from what is directly and more easily known to what is indirectly and less easily known, and this is to move from what is only potentially known in premises to what is actually known in conclusions. But since the actual perfects the potential, this movement of reason from what is more directly known in premises to what is less directly known in conclusions perfects reason and hence the intellect itself. Thus, since the good or perfection of a thing is its end, it follows that the end of the intellect is truth and in particular the reasoned truth of conclusions. Further, the functioning of a rational power is perfected according to the perfection of its object.61 Hence, the power of will is perfected to the extent that what is wanted or attained is end or what is desirable in itself as opposed to what is desired for another. The latter is a mix of the desirable and the nondesirable since it is desired only as means and not as end.62 But since a thing is good to the extent that it is desirable for itself, the power of will is perfected to the extent that what is wanted or attained is the good itself as opposed to means which is a mix of good and non-good. Similarly, the power of intellect is perfected to the extent that what is known is the intelligible itself as opposed to a mix of the intelligible and the non-intelligible. And since a thing is intelligible, as it is appetible, to the extent that it is form or act, the power of intellect is perfected to the extent that what is known is act or form itself as opposed to a mix of form and matter or of the actual and the potential. And yet the difference between knowing and wanting and hence between intellect and will is this: whereas knowledge is according as the thing known is in the knower, desire is according as the desirer tends toward the thing desired as to something outside. Thus Aquinas notes that Aristotle places a kind of circle in the acts of the soul. The thing outside moves the intellect, the thing as apprehended in intellect instigates desire, and the desire then tends to the attainment of the thing outside whence the movement first began.63 So while truth is in the intellect goodness is not in the intellect but in things. Thus the aspect of good passes from the thing desired to the desire, whereas the aspect of the true passes from knowing to the thing known. Desires are called good because the things desired are good, whereas things are called true because the intellect which knows them is true. It is mind that is true and reality is called true only in relation to mind. By contrast, it is the real that is good and mind or desire is called good only by reference to the real. Says Aquinas,

Persons

157

. . . Now as good exists in a thing so far as that thing is related to the appetite— and hence the aspect of goodness passes on from the desirable thing to the appetite, in so far as the appetite is called good if its object is good; so, since the true is in the intellect in so far as the intellect is conformed to the thing understood, the aspect of the true must needs pass from the intellect to the thing understood , so that the thing understood is said to be true in so far as it has some relation to the intellect.64

TRUTH AND JUDGMENT If Aristotle and Aquinas are right that truth is in mind while good is in things, then the bearer of ‘true’ is strictly speaking mental being while the bearer of ‘good’ is real being. But it is not any mental being at all, according to Aquinas, that is true, even when they give us knowledge. For example, neither sense images nor the concepts we have in simple apprehension are true, even though those images and concepts do, when they conform to their objects, provide knowledge of those objects. We can say that sense images that conform to their objects are in a sense true and that concepts that conform to their objects are likewise in a sense true. But strictly speaking, they are not true, says Aquinas.65 The reason for this is that it is not by either one of them that we make a claim about how things are in fact or in reality. I might see a green patch on a wall, but so long as I confine myself to my experience of seeing green and do not refer the green I see to the real wall, I make no claim about how the external world is. And just for that reason the question of truth or falsity fails to arise. Likewise in the case of concepts. I might have the abstract concept of a condor, but so long as I confine myself to the concept itself I once again make no claim about the external world. But once I use the concept of condor as the predicate and judge that the bird I see is a condor, then for the first time I make a claim about how things are. And just because of that does the question of truth or falsity in the strict sense come into play. And it comes into play not with respect to the concept condor but with respect to the whole judgment in which that concept figures. To scholastic philosophers, that showed a link between judgments and existence. Whereas concepts bear upon essence only, judgments purport to signify existence. Nevertheless, persons evidently judge that S is P without knowing that S is P. But if truth is in intellect and not in things, how is that possible? The function of intellect being to know, how can truth be in intellect without intellect’s knowing truth? To answer, this seeming contradiction comes from equating intellect’s function with knowing. But persons believe things as

158

Chapter Five

well as knowing them and belief involves intellect too since believing that S is P implies judging that S is P and judging is combining or separating ideas in intellect. So given that intellect believes as well as knows, no one is forced to choose between affirming that judging implies knowing and denying that truth is in intellect. Still, if truth does not imply knowledge and yet is in intellect, how can one say, as does Aquinas, that truth is the end of the intellect? For Aquinas holds that the end of a thing is its good or perfection and that intellect is perfected by knowledge. How, then, does he compatibly say that truth perfects intellect when intellect truly believes but does not know that S is P? Holding that truth is in intellect and that truth does not imply knowledge, Aquinas would then seem to be on the horns of a dilemma. Either (A) he affirms that knowledge perfects intellect and denies that truth is the end of intellect or else (B) he affirms that truth is the end of intellect and denies that knowledge perfects the intellect. And yet it seems that St. Thomas shuns both (A) and (B). Stated baldly in this way, these two propositions, i.e. “Truth is the end (and hence the perfection) of intellect” and “Knowledge perfects the intellect” are incompatible for any philosopher to hold who also both affirms that truth is in the intellect and denies that truth implies knowledge. Yet a closer look at what Aquinas says about truth shows that it is not truth as such in his view that is the end or perfection of the intellect but truth as known.66 Truth as known occurs not just when one’s judgment conforms to reality but when one is acquainted with that conformity.67 Truth as known is thus reflective knowledge. If only the first condition is met truth is in the intellect since the latter conforms to being. But it does not know or apprehend its own conformity to being. This might be called first-order truth. It is how truth is in intellect in its simple apprehension of essences. But when the second condition is met, this ignorance is overcome. Intellect not only conforms to being or is true, but it is acquainted with its own likeness to being. This might be called second-order truth or truth as known. It is how truth is in intellect in judgment or what Aquinas often calls “composing and dividing.” In and through the copula in judgment, one affirms that the referent of the subject conforms to one’s idea of it in the predicate.68 In so doing, one not only has a likeness of the thing known in one’s intellect but one also “reflects on that likeness by knowing it and by making a judgment about it.”69 Thus, suppose I truly judge that Jones is in his office. Then, not only is truth in my intellect but also, in making that judgment, I know reflectively the composition I make of subject and predicate, of Jones and the idea of his being in his office. And since that composition conforms to reality or is true, I know the conformity of Jones to my own idea of him. In other words, I know or am acquainted with truth. And it is in this second-order, reflective truth—

Persons

159

in this condition of knowing truth in judgment—that intellect reaches its end or is perfected.70 As it is with truth, so is it with falsity. Suppose I falsely judge that Jones is in the classroom. Here again, not only is falsity in my intellect but also I am acquainted with that falsity.71 For in making that judgment I am acquainted with the composition I make of the subject and the predicate, of Jones and the idea of his being in the classroom. But since that composition is false, what I am acquainted with this time is falsity or a composition in mind that fails to match reality. Yet the paradox is that from the fact that I am acquainted with truth and falsity in and through making true and false judgments, respectively, it does not follow that I know that those judgments are true and false. Except in the case of lies, when I falsely judge that S is P I neither believe nor know that it is false that S is P. Even so, since I am evidently acquainted with my own composition of S and P and the latter fails to conform to reality, I am none the less acquainted with falsity. The same goes for truth. Suppose that I truly judge from afar that Jones is in his office. In and through that judgment I am surely acquainted with my own composition of S and P. Just to that extent am I acquainted with truth since that composition conforms to reality. Yet from the fact that I am so acquainted it does not follow that I know that the composition or judgment with which I am acquainted is true. No doubt the latter is sometimes the case. And like many other philosophers, Aquinas holds that it is better for intellect to know than not to know, i.e. that knowledge is better than either belief or ignorance. So in his view intellect is perfected when it is not only acquainted with its own true compositions or judgments (which is always the case) but when it also knows that those same compositions or judgments are true. For example, suppose I judge that I exist. Then, not only is it the case that my judgment is true and that therefore, in being acquainted with my judgment, I am ipso facto acquainted with truth. It is also the case that I know that I am acquainted with truth, i.e. I know that the (true) judgment with which I am acquainted is true. By contrast, suppose I judge truly that a person with whom I have had no contact for many years exists. Then once again, in being acquainted with my own judgment, I am necessarily acquainted with truth. But the difference is that in this case I do not know that what I am acquainted with is truth or in other words I do not know that the (true) judgment with which I am acquainted is true. By analogy, in being acquainted with Jones who happens to be chair of the curriculum committee, I am ipso facto acquainted with the chair of the curriculum committee. But from that it does not follow that I know that I am acquainted with the chair of the curriculum committee or in other words that I know that Jones is chair of that committee.

160

Chapter Five

THE ORDER OF KNOWLEDGE Further, intellect is perfected in its knowledge of truth by knowing true conclusions as opposed to knowing true premises in sound arguments. For reasoning is not an end in itself in the view of Aquinas but has its term in true conclusions and the term or end of something perfects it.72 Besides, except in mathematics where the better known absolutely and the better known to us are perhaps the same, argument proceeds from what is better known to us but not better known absolutely to what is better known absolutely but not better known to us.73 That is simply to say that, whether we argue from cause to effect or from effect to cause, the premises must be more obvious to us than their conclusions. Otherwise we should never use the premises to prove the conclusions but instead would end up trying to prove the more evident in terms of the less evident. A case in point is arguing from first principles in metaphysics, philosophy of nature, and ethics. These he regards as knowledge that is common to all persons and as the starting point in the quest for knowledge. Knowledge of first principles is the beginning and not the end or apex of known truth. Armed with the knowledge of these first principles which are directly and most easily known by us, we proceed to use those principles to gain knowledge of truths in those sciences that are not either directly or easily known by us. Thus, we move in these areas from the obvious to the more hidden and recondite. This is a movement from knowing the latter potentially in the principles to knowing them actually as conclusions drawn from those principles by reason. These conclusions, to repeat, are less knowable to us whereas the principles from which they are drawn are more knowable to us. At the same time, since (i) the conclusions are more specific than the premises or principles from which they are inferred, and since (ii) increased specificity follows upon form, and since finally, (iii) something is intelligible in itself to the extent that it is or has form, it follows that conclusions are more knowable or intelligible in themselves than are the principles from which they are drawn, even though they are less knowable or intelligible to us. This sounds esoteric until we see what is behind it. And what is behind it are two things. First (1), in the order of being, something is knowable to the extent that it is form or act. Thus God, who is pure form or act without any potentiality is supremely knowable in Himself, though not, of course, first known to us. Second (2), in the order of knowledge, what we first know is far from being form or act alone or anything close to that. For what we first know are certain wholes or mixes of the actual and the potential. And they are doubly composite in this way, i.e. they are composite both in the order of essence and in the order of existence. Ordinary things like trees and toads are not identified with their own forms but are instead a composite of form and mat-

Persons

161

ter. And being contingent beings, they are not identified with their own acts of existence either but are rather a composite of existence and essence. And in both orders the relationship of the two elements is one of the actual to the potential. As to (1), since Aquinas construes knowledge as the reception of form as abstracted from matter, then any being at all is knowable to the extent and degree that it is form as opposed to matter, act as opposed to potentiality. That is why, as was said, God is supremely knowable in his view. As to (2), just as I first sense physical wholes or substances the parts of which I only later sense by closer scrutiny, so too I first understand logical wholes and only later discern their parts. Among concepts, I know genus before species. For to know the species I must needs know the difference and this takes time. Thus, though I know that a condor is a bird, it takes some time and effort on my part to uncover the differentia which marks off condors from other birds. But genus is taken from matter and difference from form. Thus, in the matter of concepts and in the temporal order I first know the more general or what is the more potential before knowing the more specific or what is less potential and more actual. The paradox is that even though a thing is knowable on account of its form—so that a formless entity is not strictly speaking known to us—nevertheless, the more something approaches pure form or the less it is mixed with potentiality the less knowable it is to us. As it is with concepts so is it with propositions. I know the more general logical principles before acquiring specific knowledge in botany, geology, anthropology, and so on. And in fields like mathematics and ethics, I use basic principles to come to understand more recondite truths in those sciences. Through knowledge of axioms and definitions in mathematics I come to discover hitherto unknown theorems. For example, reasoning from the axioms and definitions of Euclidean geometry, I come to know the theorem that the exterior angle formed by extending the lines of the base and hypotenuse of a right triangle is equal to its adjacent interior angle. And though it is untrue to say that ethics is a purely deductive science, nevertheless, through knowing ethical principles I come to know that more specific ethical propositions are true. Thus I justify the latter in terms of the former. All persons know that they ought to do good and avoid evil, that kindness is better than cruelty, that justice is better than injustice, etc. And in the light of these principles we judge that certain specific actions are to be taken or eschewed. Whether mathematical or ethical, the general principle is behind the more specific truths in those areas the way in which, in concepts, knowledge of genus is behind knowledge of species. It is behind it or first not in the order of being but in the order of discovery or knowledge. Putting (1) and (2) together, then, we then understand the previously mentioned view of Aquinas that principles or premises

162

Chapter Five

are more knowable to us but less knowable in themselves while conclusions are less knowable to us but more knowable in themselves.

SOME OBJECTIONS Be that as it may and recurring to truth, for at least two reasons philosophers balk at the idea that truth is in mind and not in things. First, to say this suggests a hiatus between mind and reality, between mind and matter. This invites a recalcitrant dualism. If mind is one thing and world another—the two standing over against each other as two self-enclosed systems—then you end up with an unnegotiable dualism. And in that case it is difficult to see how it makes sense to say that mind corresponds to or is true of reality. That implies a unity behind the difference which the stark Cartesian dualism excludes. This is just one dimension of the mind-body mystery. Or suppose that saying that truth is in minds and not in things implies a hard and fast division of thought and world. Then is that very claim i.e. that thought and world are absolutely different really consistent? To say either that thought is absolutely different from world or that world is absolutely different from thought is to define each one of them in terms of the other, thus spiking the supposed absolute distinction between them. Second, saying that truth is in minds seems to invite psychologism under which truth-bearers are wrongly identified with certain mental acts or entities. Nevertheless, these concerns about the claim that truth is in mind and not in things feed on misconceptions about how intellect and judgments are construed in Aristotle and Aquinas. For one thing, neither Aristotle nor Aquinas are Cartesian dualists and for another, neither one of them predicates ‘true’ of bare psychological acts. Intellect in Aristotle and Aquinas is far from being the separated substance that res cogitans is in Descartes. And if it is not, then the threatened gap between mind and matter fails in the first instance to surface. And when Aquinas says that truth is found in the intellect as “composing and dividing,” i.e. in intellect as judging, he refers not to the psychological act of composing and dividing but to what is formed in and through those acts. The latter are judgments or propositions and they fall not in the category of activity, mental or otherwise, but in the category of relation. When I truly judge that Jones is seated that judgment consists in the relation of a predicate to a subject. True, that relation is a relation of reason and not a real relation. That is to say, intellect makes it just as it makes universal concepts. But from the fact that intellect makes judgments and concepts through its own acts it hardly follows that what we predicate of those judgments and concepts is predicated of those acts. As it is the concept, and not the act that makes it, that

Persons

163

has the properties of being universal, of being a genus, of having extension, etc., so it is the proposition or judgment, and not the mental act which makes it, that bears the property of being true or of being false.

THE BEARER OF ‘TRUE’ Yet even if this answers the charge of psychologism, identifying truth-bearers with beings of reason like judgments faces another challenge. For we sometimes call statements true or false when no judgment is behind them. Liars disbelieve the lies they tell and yet no one hesitates to call their statements false. Likewise, no one balks at calling them true even when, like Pablo in Sartre’s The Wall, the liar disbelieves what he says even though what he says happens to be true. But since no one judges that S is P without believing that S is P, it follows that Aquinas is wrong and truth is not predicated of judgments in the sense of entia rationis. To answer this, defenders of Aquinas might counter that the objection feeds on falsely assuming that judging that S is P implies believing that S is P. Though no one believes that S is P without judging that S is P, one can judge that S is P without believing that S is P. Judging is simply combining two ideas and we can do this without assenting to the combination. Thus the objection fails. It seems, though, that this defense fails. True, one can judge that S is P without either knowing or stating that S is P. Thus, I might judge that Jones is in his office without either knowing or stating that he is. But what would it be like for a person to judge that S is P without believing that S is P? When belief is removed, it seems that judging too is removed. What would it be like for me to judge that Jones is in his office without my believing that he is in his office? The combination of my judging that he is in his office and my not believing that he is in his office is plainly inconceivable. The reason is that to judge that S is P is not, as the would-be defense proposes, simply to combine two ideas. I combine two ideas when I wonder or wish that S is P. Yet wondering or wishing that S is P falls short of judging that S is P. Judging that S is P is combining two ideas plus accepting it and that is belief. Therefore, judging implies believing no less than believing implies judging. They are, in fact, two names for the same thing, as ordinary language confirms. But if so, then the objection still stands. Since, as in the case of lies, we call statements false (or, as the case might be, true) even when there is no belief and hence no judgment behind them, and since the same analysis is given of truth as is given of falsehood, it follows that truth does not reside in the “composing and dividing” of two concepts in intellect. In short, if you can have straightforward truth

164

Chapter Five

without judgment and if among mental entities none but judgments are strictly speaking true, then truth is not primarily predicated of judgments and hence is not strictly speaking in intellect. And yet it seems that Aquinas would have a counter-reply to this objection. For the latter feeds on the assumption that statements are straightforwardly true when there is no judgment or belief behind them, and this Aquinas would challenge. Sentences must be contrasted with the uses to which they are put. Thus, I might use one and the same sentence-type S is P to illustrate a point in grammar, to elicit an emotion, or more typically, to assert that S is P. One might say that these are three different sentence-tokens of the same sentencetype. In any case, it is evidently not of sentences used in the first two ways or in other non-assertive ways that the question of truth and falsity arises. Instead, as P. F. Strawson showed, we call sentences either true or false only when they are used to make an assertion.74 But to say this is to say that what is added to a sentence to make it an assertion (and hence susceptible of truth or falsity) is the judgment or belief on the part of the speaker or writer that S is P. In other words, since what makes any given sentence-token an assertion is nothing else but the accompanying judgment or belief which the sentence expresses, then it follows that there is no truth without judgment and hence that statements are not straightforwardly true when there is no belief or judgment behind them. And since the same assay is given of falsehood as is given of truth, it follows that, since liars disbelieve the lies they tell, their lies are neither true nor false in the strict sense but are called false (or true, as in the case may be) because the belief or judgment which would accompany them is false (or true). To this it might be replied that liars do in fact use their lies to make a statement and not to express an emotion, to illustrate a point in grammar, or for any other purpose. The very success of their lies depends on their using them in this way. No one is ever deceived by lies, nor are they in fact lies, unless the sentences used by liars are used in this way. But then in that case lies are straightforwardly false (or true) after all, since they are used to make statements. Otherwise there would be no lies and hence no one would or could be deceived by lies. But if lies are straightforwardly false (or true) then it follows that saying that truth is primarily predicated of beliefs or judgments and predicated of statements secondarily or only by reference to the truth of beliefs or judgments is wrong. Under this analysis, Aquinas is one of many philosophers who simply underestimated the role of language in truth. Nevertheless, in true medieval fashion, Aquinas could reply to this by drawing a distinction. True, liars use sentences to make statements and both their lies and the success of them depend squarely on that use. Statements, though, are not the same as assertions. Moreover, even if they were, what at

Persons

165

best follows from this is that they are secondarily and not straightforwardly true. To spell it out, liars use sentences to make statements because otherwise they do not even begin to achieve their goal of deception. In other words, their goal in making statements is to hide and not to mirror their inner beliefs or judgments. That is the essence of a lie. But just because of that do their statements masquerade as assertions. They are dummy-assertions. Liars do not assert that S is P but pretend to do so by using sentences in a statement-making way. Thus, while all assertions are statements, not all statements are assertions. While both are units of language, the difference between them is that whereas beliefs or judgments always accompany assertions, they do not always accompany statements, as is evidenced by lies. In any case, all statements, whether they are assertions or not, are called true only by reference to beliefs or judgments. All assertions are secondarily true or false because they express what really is true or false, namely, the beliefs or judgments behind them. However, dummy-assertions or lies are in a tertiary sense called true or false because the assertions for which they masquerade are secondarily true or false. At least this is what it seems Aquinas’s answer would be. Yet some would deny either that truth-bearers are identified with beliefs or judgments in Aquinas’s sense or with statements in the sense of the assertive use of sentences. These are proposition-theorists. As the name suggests, these philosophers identify truth-bearers with propositions, and the latter are neither mind-dependent nor linguistic entities. Instead, they are what might be called the objective senses of beliefs or statements. Anyone who makes an assertion asserts something and anyone who believes believes something, and it is this “something” or the object of belief that is properly speaking true and not either i) the believing or the asserting of it or ii) the complex of the believing or asserting together with the object believed or asserted. This view admits of two possibilities. Either propositions have independent being or dependent being. Under the first, propositions are timeless, or, as is sometimes said, subsistent (as opposed to existent) entities. They are also independent or self-subsistent entities. If this view is correct, then truth is neither in mind nor in things but in a Platonic heaven along with the propositions of which it is predicated. Thus, suppose I believe that John loves Mary. Then what I believe, i.e. the proposition that John loves Mary, has objective being in a transcendent realm. Moreover, just when that same object or proposition is a simple proposition and true, there is a fact in the world which it mirrors or pictures. Under the second, propositions are not self-subsistent entities but have being only in and through some complex. That complex is one of a believing or asserting plus the object believed or asserted, and that believed or asserted object is exactly what is meant by a proposition. Under this view, when I believe that John loves Mary, then once again what I believe is a

166

Chapter Five

proposition, i.e. the proposition that John loves Mary. This time, though, the proposition has no independent being but exists only in and through the belief. It is the object-side as opposed to the subject-side of the belief where by ‘belief’ it is meant the whole or complex which comprises these two sides, i.e. the complex of the believing-plus-the-thing-believed. Common to both versions of the proposition-theory, though, is the idea that truth-bearers are propositions and that the latter are neither mental nor linguistic entities but rather objective entities, be they independent or dependent. Under the proposition-theory, therefore, truth and falsehood are not tout court mental entities even though, under the second version of that theory, they are the objective content of mental entities, i.e. beliefs or judgments.

DIFFICULTIES WITH THE PROPOSITION-THEORY Since the proposition-theory was in large part adopted by philosophers who lived long after Aquinas, one can only surmise how he would have reacted to it. His general criticism of the theory would doubtless be that it confuses a whole with one of its parts or constituents. For we have seen that the bearer of ‘true’ in the propositional sense is in his view identified with the complex of a judgment together with what is judged in and through that judgment and not either the former or the latter alone. But aside from what Aquinas would have said about the theory, one can raise several objections to the first or fullfledged version of the theory, not the least of which is that it countenances objective falsehoods. Under this robust proposition-theory, objective falsehoods are the objects of false beliefs. When I believe falsely that John loves Mary, I must believe something. Moreover, as against Russell, proposition-theorists affirm that this “something” is a kind of unitary thing and not a mere aggregate of things.75 What I believe is not a loose concatenation of things taken severally, i.e. John, loves, and Mary, but the unified complex, that-John-loves-Mary. And this unit is nothing less than an objective falsehood. Belief, after all, is a dyadic external relation and as such requires two terms, in this case, myself and the objective falsehood that John loves Mary. Moreover, to deny the real status of falsehood by placing falsehood in minds makes the bearers of truth and falsehood mental entities and this invites the error of psychologism. It is not acts of believing or judging that are true or false but the objects of those acts. At least, this is how these proposition-theorists would argue. Yet if it is not contradictory, this combination of being both real and false defies common sense. Falsehood is not a thing but signifies the lack of something. False judgments are those to which no fact corresponds. When it is not raining and I judge that it is, what I judge to be the case is absent or missing

Persons

167

in reality. Since, then, falsehood is not real being and yet is a property of judgments, it must be in the sense of being in mind as a being of reason. This accords with our commonsense belief that it is what we think or judge to be real that is false and not the real itself. And since the same assay is given of truth as is given of falsehood, it follows that truth too is in minds and not in things. Moreover, positing objective falsehoods as the objects of false beliefs compromises the difference between true and false beliefs.76 If something real corresponds to mind in false as well as in true belief, it then becomes difficult to see, as Russell says, how the difference between true and false beliefs is preserved.77 To answer this, proposition-theorists distinguish two kinds of real or mind-independent objects. There are existent things such as the events or facts to which our true judgments correspond and there are subsistent things such as objective truths and falsehoods. The difference, then, between our true and false judgments is this. Each one of our true judgments has an objective sense which is a subsistent true proposition and in addition refers to some corresponding existent fact or event. By contrast, each one of our false judgments has an objective sense which is a subsistent false proposition but does not in addition refer to some corresponding existent fact or event. Thus, the difference between our true and false beliefs or judgments is preserved without assigning truth and falsity to minds. Nevertheless, other things being equal, it is better not to multiply entities beyond necessity. Therefore, if by assigning truth to minds one can explain the truth-relation without falling victim to psychologism, then why admit in addition to existent minds and things a separate realm of subsistent truths and falsehoods? Besides, it seems that the full-fledged proposition-theory spells skepticism.78 For suppose that knowledge entails truth. Thus, T If a person R knows that something is the case then it is the case or is true.

If we go by the proposition-theory, then .’ . . is true’ in T is said of a proposition. But then T is intelligible only if in T the object of R’s knowledge is also a proposition. For the pronoun ‘it’ of which ‘true’ is predicated evidently refers to what is known. So, if propositions are truth-bearers and if T is assumed, then it follows that propositions are the objects of knowledge-that. But then, when it is known that something is the case what is known is always a proposition and not a fact. Hence, if T is true, then making propositions truth-bearers implies that facts are unknown. Thus, 1. If a person R knows that grass is green then it is true that grass is green. 2. However, no fact is true.

168

Chapter Five

3. Hence, in knowing that grass is green, R does not know a fact. 4. But if R’s knowing that grass is green is not a case of knowing a fact then nothing is and facts are unknown. To answer, proposition-theorists could simply identify true propositions with facts. The former conform to the latter in that they are the latter. Saying that a proposition is true is not saying that some other thing, a fact, is mirrored by it but that it, the proposition, is a fact. Therefore, for any person R to know that P is true is ipso facto for R to know a fact, in which case the threat of skepticism dissolves. Still, identifying true propositions and facts implies that beliefs have different objects depending on whether they are true or false and that is counterintuitive. If what I believe is a true proposition when I truly believe something, then if true propositions are facts, then it is a fact that I believe when I truly believe something. But facts are evidently not what are falsely believed. It follows that what I believe or the object of my belief varies with the truthvalue of the belief. And that is unacceptable. Second, equating true propositions and facts installs a category mistake. If two or more species fall under a genus then they have the same type or mode of being. It can be said that dogs and cats fall under the genus animal but it is crossing categories to say that dogs and mermaids fall under the genus animal. In the first case the species have real being while in the second there is an illogical mix. Instead, one has real being and the other has imaginary being. This clash of categories comes from ambiguity on the genus animal. In the second case but not in the first ‘animal’ simultaneously means two different things, i.e. real animal and fictional animal. Not surprisingly, therefore, the species in the second division are incoordinate. When true propositions are only other names for facts, the same mistake occurs. The two species that come under the genus proposition are facts and false propositions. Yet because facts and false propositions (objective falsehoods) have different modes of being, this division too is crossed. When one says that facts are and that objective falsehoods are, it is not the same sense of ‘are’ that one uses. Otherwise, either falsehoods are ontologically on a par with facts or else facts lose their ontological advantage over falsehoods. But once again, this conflict among the species signifies ambiguity in the genus. The incoordinate mix of species comes from ambiguity on the genus proposition just as previously it came from ambiguity on the genus animal. When facts are included in the genus proposition then the latter must refer to real being. A species that has real being cannot include a genus that has only objective being. Otherwise, since any species includes a genus, the contradiction follows that the species in question has simultaneously both real and ob-

Persons

169

jective being. Yet when objective falsehoods are made a sub-set of the genus proposition then the latter must have only objective and not real being. And this is for the same reason. To avoid contradiction, species like objective falsehoods that have only objective being cannot be said to include a genus that has real being. In short, the proposition-theory is untenable whether one construes the correspondence-relation as similarity or as identity. And there is no other way in which one can plausibly construe that relation. Assaying that relation in terms of similarity implies skepticism as regards facts. The identity account does avoid this consequence. But it does so at the price of implying both a category mistake and the repugnancy that what a person believes varies with the truth-value of her belief. Proposition-theorists, therefore, must either give up the correspondence theory or else abandon their proposition-theory altogether. INTENTIONALITY OF THE TRUTH-PREDICATE That truth is not predicated of some timeless proposition but rather depends on minds is shown by the intentionality of the truth-predicate. Though he identifies truth-bearers with sentences and not with judgments in Aquinas’s sense, W.V. Quine draws our attention to this fundamental intentionality of the truth-predicate. The expression ‘is true’ he says, has the express purpose of reconciling our technical need for sentences with our interest in the objective world.79 Identifying truth-bearers with mind-independent entities like objective propositions, then, comes from not appreciating that fact.80 Though interested in the world and not in language (or thought), we nonetheless need to frame sentences or judgments.81 This tends to block or divert our interest. We therefore need the truth predicate to overcome and bridge this obstacle of sentences or judgments. This it does by referring them beyond themselves to the world. In that way is the truth predicate a bridge or fundamentally intentional. Says Quine, Truth hinges on reality; but to object, on this score, to calling sentences true, is a confusion. Where the truth predicate has its utility is in just those places where, though still concerned with reality, we are compelled by certain technical considerations to mention sentences. Here, the truth predicate serves, as it were, to point through the sentence to the reality; it serves as a reminder that though sentences are mentioned, reality is still the whole point.82

Our purpose in calling something x true objectively speaking is to move or spring us beyond x to another thing y, where y is the real or what is independent

170

Chapter Five

of mind. That implies that x is not itself reality but mind or at least something that is mind-dependent. Otherwise x or a truth-bearer would be itself real. But then it would be nonsense to say that the truth-predicate conveys us beyond truth-bearers to the real. The English Channel Tunnel does not carry us beyond England to France if it is already in France when we enter it. Accordingly, being by definition intentional and having the property of getting us beyond truth-bearers to reality, the truth-predicate is placed among mind-dependent things like sentences or judgments and not among objective entities like objective propositions. But that implies that truth is in minds and not in things.

WILL AS INTELLECTUAL APPETITE From the power of intellect in the soul one is naturally led to the power of will. For besides the power of knowing in us there is also the power of wanting or desiring. And Aquinas links intellect to will so closely as to define the will as the intellectual appetite. If for no other reason than that he includes intellect in the definition of will but not vice versa, Aquinas makes intellect logically prior to will. Further, the intellect is higher than the will when they are taken in themselves and not in relation to anything else. That is because the object of the intellect is simpler than the object of the will and a power is ranked by its object. But the simpler a thing is the higher it is. An appetitive good is the object of the will but the objective sense or meaning of an appetible good is an object of the intellect. But the meaning of an appetible good enters into that good as the simpler enters into the more complex.83 Further, when the intellect is taken in relation to the universality of its object and the will is taken as a determinate power, then the intellect is higher than the will. For the will, its act, and its object all fall under universal being which is the intellect’s object.84 The voluntarism of a Scotus or an Ockham, therefore, not to mention that of a Nietzsche or a Schopenhauer, Aquinas would reject.

APPETITE IN GENERAL What is behind this definition of the will as the intellectual appetite? As to the genus, St. Thomas takes up the question of appetite in general at Summa theologiae I, question eighty, article one. Here, appetitus is used in a broad sense to cover not just what we call animal appetites like hunger, thirst, and the sexual impulse but also any kind of inner tendency or inclination even when it exists in non-living things. The latter might seem odd to us since we do not straightforwardly predicate tendencies or inclinations of inanimate things.

Persons

171

But recall that Aquinas follows Aristotle in holding that final causality is operative throughout nature and is not confined to the operations of living things. Any tendency or inclination is by definition the tendency or inclination toward something, and that toward which something tends is an end. Heavy things like boulders have an inner tendency to descend, while fire has an inner inclination to spread and rise. Both fall under the category of nonanimal appetites which for Aquinas is a sub-category of natural appetites. He contrasts these natural activities with violent activities which always work against a thing’s natural movement or tendency. The falling rock is a natural motion but its propulsion skyward by a rock-thrower is a violent motion. Natural movement is to violent movement in nature what voluntary action is to coerced action in human affairs.85 As for animal appetites, some, like hunger and thirst, fall under the genus of natural appetites while others fall under the category of elicited appetites. The former roughly correspond to what some call basic or natural needs. The latter occur only in animals that have either sense or intellectual knowledge since they are defined as appetites that follow on the knowledge of something. They are called, respectively, the sense appetite and the intellectual appetite. The sense appetite divides into the concupiscible and the irascible appetites. The former is the appetite through which animals seek what is overall suitable to them and shun what is hurtful to them. The latter is the appetite through which animals resist anything that hinders what is overall suitable to them.86 The irascible appetite is thus the champion and defender of the concupiscible.87Animals act immediately from concupiscible and irascible appetites, says Aquinas, but those same appetites in humans await the command of the higher appetite of the will.88 The judgment by which animals know what is overall suitable or hurtful to them Aquinas calls the natural judgment as opposed to the free judgment of reason which is behind choice. By natural judgment he means what we call instinct. As for the intellectual appetite or will, it belongs to humans alone.

APPETITE AND FORM The message of Question Eighty, Article One is that behind every appetite is form. Every appetite or tendency in a thing x, be it natural or elicited, issues from some form that is both present in x and the cause of x’s inclination. Thus, the inclination of a fire to spread and rise is due to the form of fire which is present in any particular fire. Or the inclination of cats to pursue fleeing mice is due to their feline form. Besides having natural appetites that follow automatically or necessarily from their own natural forms, humans and brute animals have other appetites

172

Chapter Five

that follow on apprehended forms. These we normally call desires or aversions. So humans and brutes are higher than non-knowing beings not just because they can take on the forms of other things while all along retaining their own forms, but also because, due to that very fact, they have a whole new dimension of appetite, i.e. elicited appetite. These we normally call desires or aversions. Thus, if it were not for knowledge, no appetite would be a special power of the soul. For no power is to be assigned to the soul in particular for those things that are common to animate and inanimate beings. These elicited appetites are one with the natural appetites in that they follow on some form which is both present in the subjects of these appetites and the cause of them. Thus, suppose that a cat sees a mouse. The latter’s form which is received in the cat’s sensibility elicits in the cat an inclination toward the mouse. It is thus the end or final cause of the inclination. In this way does sensation move the sense appetite in the cat. It moves it as to the determination of its act. For objects detemine or specify their acts and sense presents the sense appetite with its object. Cognitive powers (be they sensitive or intellectual) move their corresponding appetites not as efficient causes or as regards the exercise of their acts but as final causes, i.e. as regards presenting targets for those acts. Or again, suppose that a sheep sees a wolf. As received in the sheep’s sense, that form causes an inclination in the sheep to flee the wolf. By instinct or what Aquinas calls natural judgment, the cat and the sheep perceive the mouse and the wolf, respectively, as being a particular good or a particular evil.

TWO OBJECTIONS ANSWERED Aquinas raises and answers two objections to distinguishing the appetitive power from the apprehensive power. The first is that they are not different because powers are differentiated by their objects and what we desire is the same as what we know. The second is that since each power of the soul desires, by natural appetite, its own particular object (e.g. colors for sight and sound for hearing) it is unnecessary to assign a particular power, called the appetitive power, as something distinct from these. For the common is not divided from the proper. The first objection feeds on fusing the formal and material objects of the two powers. True, when it is the material object that is concerned, what we desire is the same as what we know. But what is apprehended and what is desired differ in aspect or in their formal objects. Something is apprehended as sensible or as intelligible while something is desired as suitable or good. And it is diversity of aspect and not material diversity which demands diversity of powers.

Persons

173

The second objection blurs the difference between natural and apprehended forms and hence between natural and animal appetites. True, each power of the soul (such as seeing and hearing) is a form or nature. As such, it does have a natural inclination to its own particular or proper object. But over and above these natural appetites, a distinct animal appetite must be posited in the soul by which something is desired as overall suitable to the animal as opposed to being suitable to this or that power. The reason is that in knowledge the soul contains the forms of other things besides its own natural form or powers. Given the general principle that appetite follows form, then, it follows that we should posit an appetitive power of the soul as distinct from these others.

NATURAL VERSUS ELICITED APPETITE Two differences in the relation of form and appetite set off these elicited appetites from the natural ones. The first was just mentioned. Instead of being the natural form of the subject in question, the form is this time the form of another which is cognitively present in that subject. For something is desired only if it is known. Second, while natural forms automatically or necessarily give rise to natural appetites, apprehended forms do not automatically or necessarily give rise to elicited appetites. Humans and animals evidently do not either want or shun everything they know. The first difference gives rise to a third. The apprehended forms that induce elicited appetites are not received in matter as are the forms that are behind natural appetites. Otherwise cognitive beings physically become the forms they apprehend in either sense or intellect. But just because these same forms are not received in matter, the inclinations that follow them surpass those that follow natural forms. They are immaterial and not material appetites just because the forms in the soul from which they spring are not in matter. Yet, the sense and intellectual appetites differ in their degree of immateriality. The latter but not the former is a spiritual appetite. Since the sense power is the form of a bodily organ while the intellectual power is not, the former depends on matter for its operation while the latter does not. But as operation is consequent upon being, the sense and intellectual appetitive powers that follow these respective knowing powers reflect that difference.89

FORM AS BEHIND APPETITE If appetite is behind will and if form is behind appetite then form is behind will. This comes out when we focus on the difference instead of the genus in

174

Chapter Five

the definition of the will. To do this is to see what is behind the definition of the will as the intellectual appetite. As to that differentia, human beings understand as well as sense. These two powers are different because their objects are different. We understand universals and sense particulars, even though the universals we understand exist only in particulars. It follows both that the intellectual power is different from the sense power and that the intellectual appetite is different from the sense appetite.90 For powers vary with objects and appetites with powers. But to understand particulars is to receive their intelligible forms in intellect just as to sense particulars is to receive their sensible forms in sense. What I understand (as opposed to sense) is dog, cat, and human and not Fido, Felix and Frank. Moreover, any inclination is by definition the inclination toward something as end and the end of anything is its good. Something is desired to the extent that it is good or perceived to be good. Therefore, the inclination or appetite in us which follows understanding (as opposed to sensing) particulars is an inclination toward those particulars just so far as they exemplify universal good, i.e. the good as common to all particulars. Aquinas’s point might be put this way. The object sensed moves the sense appetite toward it as particular good just because that object is the form that is a particular or sensible form. By the same token, the object understood moves the will toward it as universal good just because that object is a universal or intelligible form. Since the form that is grasped by the intellect is universal, then what the will desires in the thing known is something universal i.e. universal good. Alternatively, since the intellect knows a particular thing universally and the will tends toward that thing only as it is grasped by intellect, then the will desires that thing universally, i.e. qua good and not qua this good. The principle behind this is that the moved must follow or be proportionate to the mover.91 This refers to final causation. Phidias has the potentiality to make a statue. How it is actualized or what shape the marble takes is determined by and proportionate to its mover, i.e. the form or model of it in Phidias’s mind. Similarly, cognitive beings have the potentiality to want something, say, x. What sort of want this is and whether x is desired as particular or as universal good is once again determined by and proportionate to its mover. And once again that mover is some apprehended form or representation in the soul of the agent. If that form exists there particularly as it does in sense, then the agent desires x as this good. Thus the dog desires this bone not as bone but as this bone. But if the form exists there universally as it does in the human intellect, then the agent desires x only so far as it exemplifies good itself or universal good.

Persons

175

The matter might be put this way: since inclination follows form and the apprehended form in the intellect is necessarily universal, then two things follow. First, the appetite in question must be different from that which follows acquaintance with a particular form; and second, the appetite that is elicited by that form must tend to the object just as good and not as this good. But anything that is inclined to is inclined to as end and good has the nature of an end. It follows that the object of the intellectual appetite or will is the good as such or universal good. Succinctly, the object of the will must be universal good because the object of the intellect is universal being and the intellect moves the will through the form apprehended. This is confirmed by experience. What a physician desires in his patient Jones is health as such or health taken universally. Though that desire is satisfied when health is instantiated in Jones, it is not this health rather than that that the physician desires.92 He cannot be disappointed that this health comes to be in Jones instead of that one. For what he desires for Jones, Smith, and each one of his other patients is health as such, health period. True, he might desire different means to that end for Jones and for, say, Smith. But they are evidently different means to the same end, i.e. health itself. Or suppose that a thirsty sick person sees several equal glasses of water. Though any particular glass will slake her thirst, what she desires is water and not the particular water in any one glass. It is because she desires water as such and not this water as opposed to another just like it that she is not dissatisfied when her nurse brings her one glass and not another. That does not mean that we will a separated goodness any more than saying that we understand universals means that we understand separated universals. Aquinas is an Aristotelian and not a Platonist. Though the objects of understanding are universals, they are not separated, Platonic universals. Just so, though the object of the will is universal good, it is not the separated Platonic Form of Goodness.

THE RELATION OF INTELLECT AND WILL Of the two powers, intellect and will, the former is on balance prior to the latter in an absolute sense according to Aquinas. One reason for this is that the intellect moves the will as final cause while will moves intellect as efficient cause, and Aquinas follows Aristotle in according priority to final causes.93 In all cases is the final cause the cause of the causality of the efficient cause and not vice versa. Besides, while no function of the will is independent of the intellect, some functions of the intellect are independent of the will.94 Willing ends is

176

Chapter Five

presupposed in choosing means in practical affairs just as understanding principles is presupposed in reasoning to conclusions in speculative matters. As we assent to conclusions only because we understand principles, so do we want means only because we want ends.95 Strictly speaking, we do not understand conclusions. We reason to them. We are said to understand conclusions only because we understand the principles they include. Similarly, we do not strictly speaking will means to ends. We choose them. We are said to will means only because we will the ends they include. These ends, in turn, we might move ourselves to choose and hence freely choose. But if we do, we must do so under a further or more ultimate end. We might again move ourselves to choose the latter under a still further end. But since this cannot proceed to infinity, says Aquinas, then in its first movement the will is not free but moved by something external.96 In the light of the relation of intellect and will, I turn to the question of freedom. Freedom in Aquinas makes no sense outside a framework of natural necessity. Persons are naturally and necessarily inclined to a final end or good.97 That is true whether they will it just as persons or as persons in some incidental capacity. Moreover, in choosing means to ends, again whether as persons or as physicians, teachers, farmers, etc., persons necessarily choose those means which, following deliberation, they judge to be the best means to those ends. No one who seeks end E and who after deliberation judges that M is the best means to E fails to choose M.98 Says Aquinas, Judgment, as it were, concludes and terminates counsel. Now counsel is terminated, first, by the judgment of reason; secondly, by the acceptation of the appetite. Hence the Philosopher says that, having formed a judgment by counsel, we desire in accordance with that counsel.99

Yet despite this necessity persons are none the less free in his view. They are free in the sense that their actions can be and sometimes are voluntary and not violent, the latter being actions that are pushed from behind by external efficient causes.100 Voluntary acts are ones that originate in the subjects of those actions and not in another. They are actions of which those subjects themselves and not other things are the efficient causes. This freedom of action, Aquinas thinks, humans share with animals. When sheep flee wolves, their actions spring from instinct which is no external efficient cause but which originates in the sheep themselves.101 Yet unlike animals, persons are free in the sense of having freedom of judgment. And it is due to this that, unlike animals, persons have free choice.102 How this freedom of choice is reconciled with the necessity of choosing what, after deliberating, we judge to be the best means to an end turns on distinguishing conditional and absolute necessity in human action. And this in turn hangs on the difference between final and intermediate ends and the capacities in which persons act. All this is

Persons

177

addressed in more detail in the following section. For the moment, though, I focus on the relation of intellect and will and begin with an assay of choice. Choice follows the judgment that one thing is preferred to another. This in turn follows the comparison and deliberation of reason. So choice presupposes prior comparison and deliberation of alternatives by reason.103 Thus do we move from reason to choice. We do not, however, move from reason to ends. That is because ends are first in things practical just as principles are first in things theoretical.104 As we advance from principles to conclusions in things intelligible, so do we advance from ends to means in things appetible. Thus, so far from reasoning to ends, we first incline to ends by natural necessity and then reason from ends to means. As we understand first principles by natural necessity, so do we incline to final ends by natural necessity. It follows that all that are chosen are means and not ends.105 Thus, 1. 2. 3. 4.

We advance to objects of choice from reason. We do not advance to ends from reason. The objects of choice are evidently either ends or means. Therefore, anything chosen is a means.

Take Smith, who acts just as physician and not as wife, mother, or as in any other capacity. With respect to her patient Jones and qua physician, Smith does not advance from reason to the end, i.e. health. She does not deliberate as to whether or not to aim at Jones’ health. As physician, she aims at that end immediately and necessarily. Otherwise ends are not first in practical knowledge. To the extent that she does not aim at Jones’ health immediately and necessarily—aiming instead at Jones’ continued or even aggravated illness— Smith acts not as physician but as a vicious person. Yet, Smith evidently does move from reason to choice of means, showing that means are second and not first in things practical. She deliberates, for example, about the type and amount of food, exercise, or medicine to be prescribed. Or consider Smith not as physician but just as a human being. She does not in that capacity compare various ends and deliberate about them, finally choosing happiness. She does not, in other words, move from reason to the end of happiness. Instead, ends being first and not last, she immediately and necessarily aims at happiness, just as we all do as human beings. But again like all of us, she does deliberate as to the best means to happiness, moving from reason to the choice of those means. Since all that are chosen are means and means fall under an end as conclusions fall under principles, it follows that ends are objects of an act of the will that is distinct from choosing, just as principles are objects of an act of the intellect that is distinct from reasoning, i.e. understanding.106 This act of the will

178

Chapter Five

which has ends as its objects is willing as opposed to choosing. Willing ends no more follows reasoning than understanding principles follows reasoning. Otherwise ends are confused with means and willing is falsely assimilated to choosing, just as, in the case of the latter, principles are confused with conclusions and understanding is falsely assimilated to reasoning. So in practical knowledge there is always this dualism of willing ends on the one hand and choosing means on the other, the former being prior to the latter. These can no more exchange functions or be reduced to each other than understanding first principles and reasoning to conclusions can exchange functions or be assimilated to each other in theoretical knowledge. Nonetheless, though willing does not depend on reasoning as does choosing, willing does depend on another act of intellect, i.e. simple apprehension. One wills only what one knows or apprehends. It is the apprehended end that is willed, just as it is the reasoned-to means that is chosen. Intellect moves will in the sense of providing or presenting the will with its object.107 Put differently, the will’s object is being considered as end or good whereas the intellect’s object is simply being, and it is evident that the latter is logically prior to the former. Therefore, since powers are measured by their objects, it follows that intellect is logically prior to will. It moves will as to its object. However, in another sense of ‘moves,’ will moves and so is prior to intellect. It moves intellect not as to the determination of its object but as to the exercise of its acts.108 Here, will moves intellect as efficient cause. Specifically, will moves intellect in the latter’s reasoning to conclusions and weighing and measuring means to an end. The reason for this is that even though intellect is prior to will as to their respective objects, will is prior to intellect as regards their respective ends. The end of will, i.e. good itself is logically prior to the end of intellect, i.e. truth. As specific good, the good of intellect, truth, includes good in its definition and not vice versa.109 For example, because the end of a general is wider than the end of a captain, the former moves the latter as efficient cause to the exercise of his acts. Even so, since in its functions of apprehending essences and understanding first principles intellect in no sense depends on will—whereas for its part, no function of will is independent of the intellect—it follows that in an absolute sense intellect is prior to will.110 Since choice consists in preferring one means to another under an end, things are chosen under the aspect of what is good in itself. For an end is what is desirable for its own sake and not for another’s and what is desirable for its own sake is good in itself. In a different sense, all specific ends too are willed under the aspect of good. They are willed only because they exemplify good in itself. For example, it is a condition of Smith’s willing health as end that she knows what health is. But the aspect under which it is known is evidently

Persons

179

different from that under which it is willed. It is known insofar as it is intelligible while it is willed insofar as it is appetible. But being appetible or wanted for its own sake is just what it is meant by calling health good in itself. So specific ends like health as well as the means to those ends are desired under the aspect of good itself. To bring this out, when Smith prescribes penicillin for Jones it is because she judges that it is the best way in this case to achieve her end as physician, i.e. health. In order to make that judgment, Smith must understand the more general concept of utility or instrumental good. But since the latter is itself intelligible only through the idea of good itself, it follows that choosing one particular means or instrumental good over another is always made in the light of the idea of good itself. Cognitively speaking, therefore, universal good or good itself is behind every particular choice we make. If choice is of means, if end is behind means, and if good has the nature of an end, then every choice is made in and through knowledge of good itself. But it is not just the idea of good itself that is behind all our choices. It is the want of it as well. In terms of the example, since means are chosen only because the end is willed, what moves Smith to choose penicillin is her desire for health. Otherwise she would have no interest in penicillin. We want the means only because we want the end. Nor can the latter be anything but a final end. If S wants A for the sake of B, B for the sake of C, C for the sake of D, and so on, there must be in this chain a final end that S wants for itself alone.111 Otherwise S does not want A, B, C, D, etc. For S wants these only because S wants something else. Now what is final end or end itself is equivalent to what is good itself. Further, qua acting in any capacity at all, we all of us want what is end itself. Thus, physicians as physicians want health, generals as generals want victory, teachers as teachers want learning, and so on. Though they are very different things, these objects have something in common. From the perspective in which they are sought, they are one and all of them wanted for themselves alone. Thus do they all share the character of being end or good itself. It is this character on account of which they are sought and on account of which the means by which they are realized are sought. From this it follows that what moves a person R to act in any specific capacity C is the character that some object O has, when viewed from the perspective of C, of being end or good itself. Granted that good itself is behind all our choices when we act as physicians, generals, teachers, etc., is good itself behind all our choices when we act just as human beings? If so and that good is evidently not identified with health, victory, or learning, with what is it identified? The first question is answered by underscoring what has been said. Since (i) action follows choice, (ii) choice is of means, (iii) choosing a means occurs

180

Chapter Five

only under the aegis of willing an end that is not means to a further end but final end, (iv) final end or end itself is just another name for good itself, it follows (v) that good itself is just as much behind our choices and actions as human beings as it is behind our actions and choices as physicians, generals, teachers, and so on. Whether one chooses and acts in some capacity that is incidental to being human (i.e. as physician, general, etc.) or whether one acts and chooses just as human makes no difference so far as what ultimately moves our choices is concerned. And that is what in that capacity is end or good itself. As to the second question, when we choose and act just as persons as opposed to choosing and acting in some incidental capacity, what we ultimately want is happiness.112 One might possibly want health, money, power, fame, friendship, security, peace, knowledge, etc. for the sake of happiness but one cannot possibly want happiness for the sake of any one of these things or for that matter for the sake of anything else. Happiness alone cannot possibly be means but can only be end. So it is that whenever we make choices—whether just as persons or as persons in some capacity that is accidental to a person—we do so only because we naturally and necessarily will what in that capacity is good in itself. As physician, Smith naturally and necessarily wills health and as teacher, Jones naturally and necessarily wills learning. Taken qua physician and qua teacher respectively, it is not in their power to will otherwise. That is only possible if they will in some capacity other than as physician or teacher. And as human beings, all three of them join all of us in naturally and necessarily willing happiness. Here there is no freedom but only necessity.

FREEDOM AND NECESSITY IN THE WILL Suppose, then, that we necessarily will final ends whether we will just as persons or as persons in some incidental capacity. Is it also true that we necessarily choose the means to those ends in the sense that we are unable to choose otherwise than we do? Or are we free in choosing means even though we are unfree in willing final ends? It might seem that it is the same with means as it is with ends. Believing that penicillin and using audio-visual aids are the best means to the ends of health and learning respectively in any particular case, is it in the power of either Smith or Jones taken respectively as physician and as teacher not to choose those means to the ends in question? Quite generally, choosing and acting in some specialized capacity, can a person both believe that M is overall the best means to achieve her end E in that capacity and yet choose some

Persons

181

means other than M? Following Aristotle, Aquinas answers that she cannot. Otherwise he should not have quoted with approval Aristotle’s affirmation that “having formed a judgment by counsel, we desire in accordance with that counsel.”113 Convinced upon deliberation that dropping the atomic bomb on Hiroshima was the best means to military victory, and wanting that end as Commander-in-Chief, President Truman must in that same capacity decide to drop the bomb. Yet, that does not mean that President Truman was absolutely compelled to come to that decision in Aquinas’s view. Nor, in the case of our previous examples, does it mean that Smith was absolutely compelled to prescribe penicillin or that Jones was absolutely compelled to use audio-visual aids. The necessity in these cases is conditional and not absolute. For recall that Aquinas held that happiness is the absolute last end of persons as persons, i.e. that all persons naturally and necessarily seek happiness. It is always possible, therefore, that Truman disbelieves that immediate victory is compatible with that end. For example, he might have thought that the heavy cost of immediate victory would cause more general unhappiness than happiness and hence diminish his own happiness. Or he might have thought that public outrage over the carnage of an immediate victory would preclude his re-election. If so, then his immediate end might have been a negotiated, conditional surrender instead of military victory. In other words, he might have acted not as Commander-in-Chief of United States forces but in some other capacity, say, as diplomatic leader of the free world or as politician. The point is that Truman’s acting for victory is only conditionally necessary. He is determined to act for immediate victory only if he sees the latter as the best means to the final end of happiness. Therefore, because he is conditionally and not absolutely determined to will immediate victory as end, Truman is likewise only conditionally and not absolutely necessitated to give the order to drop the bomb even if he deliberatively judges this to be the best means to that end. So Aquinas’s view here is that while Truman is like all of us absolutely necessitated as regards his last end, he is never absolutely necessitated as regards mixed or intermediary ends, i.e. ends (like military victory or a negotiated conditional surrender) that can serve as means to the final end of happiness. With respect to these he can only be conditionally necessitated. The reason for this is that, the will being in his view the intellectual appetite, its object is what is end or good in itself or universal good and not mixed good or good or end that can also be means to a further end. And since only the former determines the will, the will is open or free with respect to the latter. In any case, if the will can be only conditionally and never absolutely necessitated as regards these mixed or intermediate ends or goods, then it can only be conditionally and never absolutely necessitated as

182

Chapter Five

regards the means to these ends, even what are judged to be the best means to those ends. The same goes for Smith or Jones. To take the former, necessarily willing happiness as her last end, Smith might have believed that Jones’s health was incompatible with that end. For example, Jones might have believed that her happiness consisted in accumulating as much wealth as possible and that this last end was incompatible in this case with her end as physician, i.e. Jones’s health. For suppose that Smith happens to be heiress to Jones’s fortune. If so, then her immediate end might have been the latter’s demise and not her health. And then with respect to Jones, Smith would not have acted as physician but as immoral person. In other words, since, unlike happiness, the end of health is not end or good in itself, it does not compel the will. So instead of being absolutely necessary, Smith’s acting for Jones’s health is contingently necessary, i.e. necessary only if she acts as physician. Therefore, because she is in the first instance conditionally and not absolutely necessitated to will Jones’s health, Smith is likewise only conditionally and not absolutely necessitated to prescribe penicillin for Jones even if she deliberatively judges this to be the best means to the end of Jones’s health. In sum, we must choose what we take to be the best means to our ends provided that we will those ends. But with the exception of happiness, we need not in the first instance will those ends and hence the best means to those ends. In sum, when it concerns mixed ends, then, rejecting any absolute necessity of choice under those ends, Aquinas would reject the stronger statement 1 below and accept the weaker statements 2 and 3. Under 1, Truman is absolutely necessitated to choose to drop the atomic bomb when he judges that that action is the best means to his immediate end of military victory. Aquinas would reply that since the end here is not end or good in itself but rather a mix of good and non-good, then Truman need not will it in the first place and so is not absolutely necessitated to take any means to that end, including dropping the bomb. If choice is always of means and if means includes but is not identified with the idea of end, then any means is a mix of end and non-end, of good and non-good. But as only what is pure good or end compels the will, we are always free as regards means. Besides, choice includes both desire and deliberation, says Aquinas114 and so is correctly characterized either as intellect influenced by appetite or as appetite influenced by intellect. But since deliberating implies that what we deliberate about is up to us, it follows that choice implies freedom. In any case, 1 on the one side and 2, 3 and 4 on the other express the difference between the necessity of the consequent and the necessity of consequence, respectively. And it is only 1 that excludes freedom of choice. Thus,

Persons

183

1. If a person S wills an end E, then it is necessary that S chooses some means M to E. 2. Necessarily, if a person S wills an end E, then S chooses some means M to E. 3. Necessarily, if a person S wills an end E and S is cognizant of several means to E, then S chooses what S believes is the best means to E. 4. Necessarily, if a person S wills an end E and S believes that M is the only means to E, then S chooses M. For Aquinas, therefore, persons have free choice. But this freedom is conditional in that it is always in a context of natural necessity. For all of us naturally and necessarily want happiness as our end. Not just that but, acting in some incidental capacity, say, as physician, we must act for what in that same capacity is the end, in this case, health. Yet, since the various ends in these incidental capacities are always mixed ends or goods, they none of them necessarily compel our wills. So while he thinks that we are free in our choices, Aquinas would shun that radical freedom of choice, cut off from all necessity, which some existentialists propound. This would he regard as a prodigy, a false abstraction. To get at the truth about freedom we must avoid cutting it off from necessity, thereby installing a stark, irresolvable dualism. We need instead to strive for a unity-in-difference in which both necessity and freedom play a role in the appetitive life of persons. To show this, Aquinas adverts to that parallelism between theoretical and practical reason to which reference was previously made. In theoretical reason we start with self-evident general principles which we do not reason to but to which we naturally and necessarily adhere. In knowing these widest principles, the understanding is moved by them as by something external. Yet the irony is that it is only through first being moved by these general principles that the intellect can then move itself to know less general truths in the light of them. Thus is determined intellect the condition of free intellect. To spell it out, intellect moves itself from knowing the less general propositions inchoately or potentially in the principle to knowing them expressly or actually in drawn conclusions. This it does through reasoning. Reasoning is thus the intellectual mediator between understanding a principle and affirming a conclusion. Unlike the understanding intellect, this reasoning intellect is free in the sense of being self-moved. From being passively moved by first principles, intellect actively draws conclusions. It is discursive as well as intuitive. It is both mover and moved in different respects. It is moved in its understanding of a principle while it moves itself qua in that state by its act of

184

Chapter Five

reasoning. And just to the extent that it moves itself by its very own internal act of reasoning, intellect is free. Here, ‘free’ means not “possibly acting otherwise” but “self-moved” as opposed to “moved by another,” or, in the words of Aquinas, “naturally moved” as opposed to “violently moved.”115 Now as it is in the theoretical sphere with intellect, so is it in the practical sphere with will. Here we start with ends which play the role in practical thought that principles play in theoretical thought. We no more choose the final end than we reason to first principles. The will is as passive as regards the former as understanding is with respect to the latter. Yet it is only through that passivity as to the final end that the will moves itself as to means. Thus is determined will the condition of free will. Just as intellect springs to action in reasoning to conclusions from being moved by principles, so too does will spring to action in commanding consideration of means from being moved by the end. Through that command, the will is the efficient cause of moving itself, qua moved by the end, from a state of potentially choosing a means to one of actually choosing it. As reasoning mediates understanding principles and forming conclusions in things intelligible, so does this commanding mediate willing an end and choosing a means in things appetible. To that extent is there a complete parallel between intellect and will. In each one two functions are linked by a third. In one, understanding and concluding are linked by reasoning; in the other willing and choosing are linked by commanding. Nevertheless, to the extent that the issuing of that command has no external efficient cause but springs from the will itself, the will is free. Will in commanding consideration of means under an end, and intellect in drawing a particular instance under a first principle are thus both of them free in the sense of being self-initiated. Though they are evidently caused, in neither case is the commanding or the reasoning caused in the sense of being pushed from behind by some efficient cause that lies outside the commanding or reasoning agent. The movement is in each case natural and not violent, voluntary and not forced. As it is with commanding so is it with choosing. In choosing a means under an end the will is once again free in the sense of being the efficient cause of its own act. True, intellect moves will as to its object. Qua willing an end, one cannot help choosing that means which the intellect judges to be the best. Yet this conditional necessity of the will in choice is all on the side of the will’s object. It does not determine the will as regards the exercise of its act. In its passive state of being moved by what its object is qua willing, i.e. an end, the will actively commands consideration of means. Then, once again in a second passive state of being moved by intellect by what its object is qua choosing, i.e. a means, the will actively chooses a specific means. In each case does the will move in commanding and in choosing only because it is

Persons

185

moved by an object, namely, by an end and by a means, respectively. All its freedom it thus owes to necessity. And its freedom, both in commanding and in choosing, consists in the lack of any external efficient cause. My choices are no more pushed from behind by another than are my reasonings or my commands. Otherwise the choosing is that other’s and not mine and it is senseless to say that I choose, just as under the same assumption it is senseless to say that I reason or that I command. Yet freedom in Aquinas is more than this. I am not only free in that I, and not another, am the efficient cause of my own choices. I am also free in being able to “take one thing while refusing another.”116 True, I am conditionally determined once I judge that the one thing is preferable to the other to achieve some mixed or intermediate end. In a word, in this case I am conditionally determined in my consequent will. Here, as was said, intellect determines will. But that does not imply nor is it the case that I am conditionally determined in my antecedent will. That is to say, before I judge that one means is preferred to another in order to attain some mixed end, I retain the power of being inclined to either one, says Aquinas.117 And just to that extent do I have free choice. To recur to the foregoing example, Smith as physician is conditionally determined to prescribe penicillin for Jones once she judges that that drug is the best means to Jones’s health. Yet there is no necessity, Aquinas would say, that Smith act as physician any more than there is necessity, in our other example, that President Truman act as Commander-in-Chief. Besides, before she makes that judgment and in the process of deliberating about what means to take to the end, Smith’s will is free in the sense of being capable of being inclined to various means to that end. In fact, it is because it follows this freedom of the antecedent will that the judgment in question is suitably called free judgment even though it is that same free judgment that determines the consequent will. This as contrasted with the judgments of animals which, because they spring from instinct and not from deliberating reason are unable to incline to various things. For that reason, says Aquinas, are they natural and not free judgments.118 So the paradox is that it is only by free judgment in choice that the will is determined in choice. It is only through antecedent freedom of choice that there is consequent, necessity of choice. Even so and for the reasons given, this necessity of choosing what appears to be the best means to our various mixed ends is in Aquinas’s view conditional and never absolute. Stated differently, free judgment is so called because it follows deliberation. For deliberating implies the ability to be inclined to various things. Moreover, since deliberation is a function of the practical reason, freedom in Aquinas has its root in reason. When a sheep judges that wolves are to be

186

Chapter Five

shunned, that judgment springs from instinct and not from deliberative reason. As a result, it does not presuppose the ability to be inclined to various things. Instead, it implies being inclined to one thing only, i.e. fleeing. Aquinas therefore calls the sheep’s judgment natural as opposed to free. But when Smith judges that prescribing penicillin is the best way to cure Jones, Smith’s judgment does follow deliberative reason and so does presuppose the antecedent ability of being inclined to various things. That is why it is called free and not natural judgment. In sum, the difference between pure and mixed good lay behind the idea of freedom of choice in the thought of Aquinas. Our choices are always of means or of what is a mixed good. But not being a final end, these means are not just good but a mix of good and non-good. They are good to the extent that they include good in their notions, since the concept of means includes the concept of end in its definition. But they are not good to the extent that they are not end but only means. Since, then, it is a mix of good and non-good, any means m can be considered by reason either as being something good or as being something non-good. And since choice follows reason, m can therefore either be chosen or avoided depending on the point of view from which it is considered. When considered from the viewpoint of economy, taking a bus to New York might be attractive. But it might be something to be avoided from the standpoint of comfort. Not being just good, then, taking the bus to New York might be either preferred or not preferred. Besides, even if there is a way to New York that is from every aspect desirable, it is still only a means and not an end. Hence, unlike happiness or what is end only, that way to New York would be avoidable since it is a mix of good and not good. Not being just good but a mix of good and non-good, no means m absolutely compels the will.119 In any case, though the will depends on the intellect both in choosing means and in willing ends, the intellect is independent of both willing and choosing. At least it is so in apprehending essences and grasping first principles. It can be said, then, that will always depends on intellect as to the determination of its objects. Further, it can also be said that both in reasoning to conclusions and in weighing various means to an end, intellect depends on will as to the exercise of these acts. Even so, since in its functions of apprehending essences and understanding first principles intellect is independent of will—whereas for its part, no function of will is independent of the intellect— it follows that in an absolute sense intellect is prior to will.

SEVEN BASIC QUESTIONS All this can be spelled out in more detail. To do so albeit at the risk of some repetition, I consider seven closely related questions which Aquinas raises

Persons

187

about the will. His answers are subtle and penetrating, showing the causal reciprocity of intellect and will as well as the relation of the will to God. The questions run as follows. 1) whether the will moves the intellect?120 (2) whether the will is moved by the intellect?121 3) whether the will desires anything of necessity?122 4) whether the will desires everything of necessity?123 5) whether the will moves itself?124 6) whether the will is moved by an exterior principle?125 and finally, 7), whether the will is moved by God alone as exterior principle?126 His answers to these questions overlap. So I summarize them to avoid redundancy in spelling out all the details of each one.

QUESTIONS ONE AND TWO: RECIPROCITY OF INTELLECT AND WILL The answers to the first two questions are affirmative. That means that Aquinas distinguishes different respects in which the will and the intellect move each other. What are these respects? The will moves the intellect as well as every other power of the soul as agent or efficient cause. Aquinas sometimes expresses this by saying that the will moves the intellect as regards the exercise of its act.127 The reason is that in any order among active powers, the power with the universal end moves the power with the particular end. Suppose I want money not as a final end but as a proximate end. I want it to buy a house. That higher end evidently moves the proximate end. I want the means only because I want the end. What is desired in the means is the end. Therefore, since the good that is the means subserves the good that is the end, the former comes under the latter. But just because of that, the power of willing, which concerns the end, moves the power of choosing, which concerns the means. But the will’s end is more universal than the intellect’s. It is universal good while the intellect’s end is the particular good, truth. In fact, the specific ends of all the powers fall under the object of the will as particular goods. And so, since the particular is explained by the universal and not vice versa (as horse is explained by animal), it follows that, when things are considered as desirable, the will moves as an efficient cause all the other powers of the soul, including the intellect. In sum, the will moves other powers as the more general end moves the less general ends. Hence, since good has the nature of an end, the will moves the other powers as the more general good moves the more particular goods. But the end of the intellect, truth, is a particular end or good while the end of will is general good or goodness as such. Therefore, the will moves the intellect as the good or the end as such moves a particular good or end that falls under it. Aquinas offers these examples. A king, whose end is the common good, moves the governors of cities whose ends are the more restrictive goods of their respective cities. Or a general, who acts for the good of the entire army,

188

Chapter Five

moves a captain, who acts for the more restricted good of his own regiment. And he moves them as agent or efficient cause. But though the will moves the intellect as regards the exercise of its act, the intellect moves the will as regards “the determination of its act.” That just means that the intellect moves the will as something aimed at moves an agent. For the object of the will is the good as known. Moreover, the object of a power is its end. So to the extent that the intellect, through the object, moves the will as something aimed at, it is prior and superior to the will. Thus does the intellect move the will as final and not as efficient cause. It presents the will with its object or target. For the end of will, good, evidently moves the will only by being first apprehended by the intellect. One wills only what one knows. What the physician desires as end, i.e. health, must be in his intellect in order to be desired. The intellect moves the will, then, as known end moves the agent. Further, to the extent that anything is apprehended by the intellect it falls under being or the true. For being or the true is the object of the intellect. Hence, to the extent that any end or good is apprehended by the intellect, it is a particular being that falls under universal being or the true. But particular being is explained by universal being and not vice versa. But universal being or the true is the object of the intellect and not the will. Therefore, when the end is in intellect as something intelligible as opposed to something desirable, then the intellect has the more universal object than the will. And just to that extent is the intellect prior to the will.128

AN OBJECTION ANSWERED Aquinas uses the occasion of an objection to bring out this paradox of the interdependence of the intellect and the will. The objection is that the will cannot move the intellect because what moves is not moved by what it moves and the intellect evidently moves the will since the apprehended good moves the will.129 The objection is disarmed by drawing the distinctions that were just made. If the intellect and the will are compared according to the universality of their respective objects, then the intellect is higher than the will. For the object of the former is being and the object of the latter is good. But being is more universal than good in the sense of being the more universal cause. For being is included in good as the simple is included in the composite. But the simpler a thing is, the higher it is. So, since the object of the intellect, being, is wider and hence simpler than the object of the will, good, it follows that the intellect is simpler and hence prior to the will. For powers vary with their objects. Further, suppose that the intellect is taken in relation to the universality of its object, being, and the will is taken as some specific thing, i.e. as a determinate

Persons

189

power. Suppose, in other words, that the will, its act, and its object are taken as just some among the many things (animals, stones, wood, etc.,) that are understood by the intellect. Then once again, the intellect is higher than will since will, its act, and its object all fall under the wider notion of being. For as cause of the particular, the universal is higher than the particular. Succinctly, x moves y as to the determination of its act (i.e. as final cause) when x’s object contains under it the object of y. But the object of the intellect, being, contains under it the object of the will, good. As particular being, good falls under the general notion of being. It follows that the intellect moves the will as to the determination of its act. On the other hand, suppose that the will is considered in relation to the common nature of its object, universal good, and the intellect is taken as some specific good. Then the intellect, its act, and its object (i.e. truth) are ends or things desired. They are then so many species of good. Because the intellect, its act, and its object then all fall under the common notion of good, they are to that extent caused by good. From that perspective, therefore, the will is higher than the intellect and can move it. To sum it up, x moves y as to the exercise of its act (i.e. as efficient cause) when the end of x is more universal than the end of y. But the end of the will, i.e. goodness, is more universal than the end of the intellect, i.e. truth. As a particular good, truth falls under goodness. Therefore, the will moves the intellect as to the exercise of its act. From all this Aquinas concludes that it is easy to understand how the powers of intellect and will come under each other in their acts. For the intellect “understands that the will wills and the will wills the intellect to understand.”130 So it is that in different respects the good is contained under the true and the true under the good. To the extent that the former is true, the intellect is higher than the will; but to the extent that the latter is true, the will is higher than the intellect. It all depends on the point of view that is taken. Finally, when viewed not in itself but in relation to something else, the will can be higher than the intellect in a kind of incidental sense. This occurs just in case the object of the will really exists in a higher way than it exists in mente. The reason is that the object of the will, good, is in things while the object of the intellect, truth, is in mind. Thus, love of God is better than knowledge of God in this life. For the real existence of God is higher than the way God is here present to us in our intellects. By contrast, knowledge of physical things is better than love of them. For that in which knowledge of such things exists, the mind, is higher than physical things.131

QUESTIONS THREE AND FOUR Next come questions 3) and 4) above. Aquinas answers 3) affirmatively and 4) negatively. The will desires the good itself necessarily but it desires good

190

Chapter Five

things contingently. The will is therefore free as regards good things (participative goods) but determined as regards goodness itself (non-participative good). It is free as regards means or mixed ends but determined as regards pure ends or ends in themselves. All this needs to be spelled out. As to 3), Aquinas again compares the will to the intellect. Just as the intellect necessarily adheres to first principles, so the will necessarily adheres to the final end. Moreover, just as we proceed discursively from principles to conclusions in speculative matters, so do we proceed from end to choice of means in practical matters. The end is to choice of means in the practical reason what first principles are to conclusions in the speculative reason. Says Aquinas. . . . Now in appetitive matters, the end is related to the means, which is desired for the end, in the same way as, in knowledge, principles are related to the conclusion to which we assent because of the principles.132

Thus, a physician as physician of necessity desires health as her end. This end is the practical principle from which her actions as physician issue. Operating under that end, her will moves her intellect to the truth about the means. Once the latter delivers that knowledge, the physician then chooses that means. That choice is equivalent to the conclusion of a practical syllogism. The physician’s first premise is the practical principle that health is the end. The second is her judgment that a certain action is the right means to the end. And her conclusion is that she ought to choose that means. That is equivalent to her choice of that means. That is why choice is described either as appetitive intellect or as intellectual appetite.133 . . . Now as we have stated above, the end is in the order of appetibles what a principle is in the order of intelligibles. But it is evident that the intellect, through its knowledge of a principle, reduces itself from potentiality to act as to knowledge of its conclusions; and thus it moves itself. And, in like manner, will, through its volition of the end, moves itself to will the means.134

Here, Aquinas again compares willing with knowing. In knowledge, the intellect is externally moved by a principle about which it makes a judgment. This grasping of principles on the part of intellect Aquinas calls understanding. Through knowing the principle, the intellect then moves itself to knowledge of the conclusion. That does not compromise the dictum that whatever is moved is moved by another and not by itself. For the respect in which the intellect moves here is different from the respect in which it is moved. The intellect moves insofar as it actually knows something, i.e. a principle. But it is moved insofar as it does not actually but only poten-

Persons

191

tially knows something, i.e. the conclusion. Since it moves qua knowing one thing and is moved qua not knowing another, the intellect is mover and moved in different respects. The intellect moves itself to know a conclusion by a) placing a case under the known principle or rule and b) drawing the conclusion from the rule and the case. This follow-up function of intellect is reason. Thus, reason presupposes understanding but not vice versa. The starting point of reasoning is not reasoning or else an infinite regress breaks out. The starting point of reasoning is the more basic function of understanding. As it is with the intellect, so is it with the will. Thus does Aquinas answer question 4) negatively. Will does not desire everything of necessity as from an external principle. For will moves itself to a means as intellect moves itself to a conclusion. Willing is to choosing in things appetible what understanding is to reason in things intelligible. As understanding a principle is presupposed in reasoning to a conclusion, so willing an end is presupposed in choosing a means. Just as we accept a conclusion because we assent to a principle, so do we choose a means because we will an end. As reasoning is under the aegis of understanding so choosing is under the aegis of willing. Aquinas presses this comparison of will to intellect further. In things intelligible, we are first moved of necessity by a principle as from something extrinsic. From there we proceed to move ourselves to the conclusion through theoretical reasoning. Just so, in things appetible, we are first moved of necessity by an end as from something external. From there we proceed to move ourselves to a conclusion about the means through practical reasoning. Since that conclusion is equivalent to the choice of that means and since we have moved ourselves with respect to it, it is necessarily free choice. Thus does he answer 5) above affirmatively. The will moves itself in choosing means to an end. Another example of such a practical syllogism is the following: I am necessarily moved to the end of happiness. But I judge that doing x is more conducive to happiness than not doing x or than doing y instead of x. I therefore conclude that I ought to do x to attain happiness. In any case, Aquinas’s argument that choice concerns means might be summarized as follows: 1. Means are chosen because of an end. 2. So in things appetible the end is in the position of a principle and the means in the position of a conclusion. 3. But in things intelligible, conclusions are reasoned to because principles are understood. 4. So in things appetible means are chosen because ends are willed. 5. Hence, what is willed is the end and what is chosen is the means.

192

Chapter Five

Alternatively, 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

All choice follows comparison of two or more alternatives. Hence, all choice has a reason. But the reason for choosing is to gain some end through what is chosen. Moreover, that by the choice of which some end is gained is a means. Therefore, all choice is of means.

Aquinas’s argument that this choice of means is free choice might be summarized as follows: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9.

Means are chosen only because some end is willed. So the willed end is to the chosen means as a principle is to a conclusion. But principles are adhered to of necessity. So we will the end of necessity. But in things intelligible, we move ourselves to a conclusion through knowing a principle. So in things appetible we move ourselves to choose a means through willing an end. But what moves itself moves from no external cause but from within. But what moves from within moves freely. Therefore, we are free as regards choosing the means to an end.

Alternatively, 1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

All choice is choice of means. But all choice of means to an end issues from deliberation. Hence, all choice issues from deliberation. But what issues from deliberation is up to the deliberator and hence free. Therefore, all choice is up to us or free choice.

The will moves itself to choose the means in the same way in which it moves all the other powers to the exercise of their acts. Just as we saw that the will moves the other powers to their particular ends due to the universality of its own end (i.e. the good as such) so too does it move itself in its act of choosing due to that same universality of its end. For since choosing concerns means which are particular, participative goods and willing concerns the good as such under which those particular goods fall, it follows that willing moves choosing and not the other way around. One act of the will moves another to the exercise of its act due to the universality of the end in the one, i.e. willing, and the particularity of the end in the other, i.e. choosing. Under

Persons

193

the aegis of an end, then, the will moves itself to the means. This it does by deliberating about various means to the end. This involves comparing, weighing, and measuring those means so far as it concerns their suitability to the end. The result of this deliberation and comparison is what Aquinas calls free (as opposed to natural) judgment. In fact, free choice is nothing but this free judgment of reason.135 It is the judgment that a means to the end ought or ought not to be taken and if so, that this and not that means ought to be taken. Here in this practical syllogism, end is in the position of rule or principle, true judgment about the means is in the position of case, and the free judgment of reason that that means ought to be taken is in the position of conclusion. Choice is just this same conclusion viewed on the side of appetite. Thus, through being moved by the end of being healed, the will of a sick person moves itself under that end to choose the means to that end. This it does by deliberating about the various means. This involves comparing those means. The result of this issues in the free judgment or choice that consulting a physician is what is to be done. So in the practical syllogism, the will in different respects both moves itself and is moved by another, just as in the theoretical syllogism the intellect in different respects both moves itself and is moved by another.136 Qua willing the end, the will moves itself to choose the means. But qua determinable as regards the end, the will is specified or moved to its end by an exterior cause. Thus, since it moves itself in a different respect from that in which it is moved, the will is consistently said to both move itself and be moved by another. The dictum that whatever is moved is moved by another is therefore not flouted. Another alternative is this: 1. All choice follows deliberation. 2. What follows deliberation has a reason. Otherwise it is not the result of deliberation but is automatic. 3. Therefore, all choice has a reason. 4. Moreover, what follows deliberation is up to the deliberator and hence free. 5. But the end is a principle in things appetible. 6. Principles, though, do not have a reason. 7. Hence, the end does not have a reason. 8. But since all choice has a reason, the end is not chosen. 9. Therefore all that is chosen is both a means and up to us or free. As regards determinism in willing ends, one might state Aquinas’s argument this way: 1. What in any order is end is in the position of a principle. 2. We adhere to principles of necessity.

194

Chapter Five

3. Hence, what in any order is end is something to which we adhere of necessity. 4. We are not free in anything to which we adhere of necessity. 5. Hence, what in any order is end is not something to which we freely adhere. 6. But we adhere to what is end in any order by willing it. 7. Therefore, what in any order is end is not something which we will freely. Depending on whether it moves itself as regards means or is moved by something exterior as regards pure ends, then, the will is free or unfree. We are free as regards the means but not as regards the end. This is true both of persons in some specialized capacity and of persons just as persons. The physician as physician does not choose health as her end but necessarily wills health as her end. Though the verb ‘wills’ suggests action, this is misleading. Here, all is passivity. The will is specified and determined by an external end just as the intellect is specified and determined by an external principle. And in each case the latter determines the former as object, end, or final cause. Even so, the intellect and the will are free to the extent that they are active. And they are active in reasoning from principles to conclusions and in choosing means. The former is the exercise of free reason toward a conclusion while the latter is the exercise of free judgment about the means. Thus, in the same capacity as physician, our physician chooses the means to the end of health. Here, the verb ‘chooses’ does presuppose action on the part of the physician. Through passively willing the end of health, the will of the physician moves her intellect to conclude that this particular means ought to be taken to that end. Equivalent to that conclusion is the choice of that means. In the same way, taken as a person and not as a physician, our physician does not choose happiness as her end but necessarily wills it as her end. She is completely determined with respect to it. A person cannot but will to be happy. Through being specified by that end, she then moves her intellect to its particular end of truth as regards the means to that end. Having as its end universal good, the will here moves the intellect to its specific good, truth. So, while willing concerns only the end and is necessary, choosing concerns only the means and is not necessary but free. It is free because it presupposes the action on the part of the will of moving the intellect to compare means to the end. It is free also because choice at this point is open to various means. And here once again, choice follows the judgment of the intellect’s comparison. It is free choice both because it presupposes that the will, under the end of happiness, moves the intellect to the means to that end and because at that point will is open to choosing various means. As regards the latter and incidentally, Aquinas uses this same idea of variety to show that God creates all things

Persons

195

freely and not by the necessity of His nature. He says that if God created things by a necessity of His nature (as for example, does Spinoza’s God) then there would be no diversity in the kinds of thing that are created.137 In any case, persons must have free choice, he says, or else “counsels, deliberations, commands, prohibitions, rewards, and punishments would be in vain.”138 Yet freedom of choice requires determinism. Externalism or determinism as regards the end is the condition of internalism or active freedom as regards the means. St. Thomas is thus no extreme libertarian or existentialist in his treatment of choice. True, to mark off choosing from willing, Aquinas often stresses the freedom of choice. But when it comes to the proper object of will, all is necessitated and nothing is free. That is because willing concerns end and not means and ends are willed of necessity. So to balance things off, Aquinas sometimes emphasizes freedom of choice as regards the means. Yet within this free choice of means there is determinism. Since in choice the intellect moves the will as known means, the will is moved as well as mover in choosing the means. Yet choice is always free choice. Through willing health of necessity, a physician as physician deliberates concerning the means to that end. In this rational process of comparison in which the pros and cons of various means to the end are weighed, all is freedom and nothing is necessitated. Here, the will retains the power of being inclined to various means. That is so because none of those means is goodness itself. Instead, each one of them is a finite or limited good. That is because each one of them is only a limited or proximate end. To the extent that it is wanted, a means is an end. But to the extent that it is wanted for another and not for itself, a means is a mixed and not a pure end.139 And since good has the nature of an end, any and every means is only a mixed good.140 But since the will’s object is goodness or endness itself, the fact that these means are only mixed goods or ends means that no one of them completely fulfills the will’s appetite for good.141 That is why the will is free to refuse any one of them in favor of another. Because each one of them is good only by participation, it does not completely satisfy the will’s orientation to goodness. The will is for that reason not captivated, as it were, by any one of them. It retains the power of being attracted to another means or instrumental good. That is why, too, the will can deliberate over those means, directing intellect to compare them. Thus, the very act of weighing and comparing various means to an end implies both that these means are finite goods and that the will at that point remains undetermined by any one of those goods. And just to that extent is the will free. Deliberation implies that the will is not confined to or determined by any one particular good as over against another. And that in turn is because the object of the will is the good itself instead of some particular good. And

196

Chapter Five

that in turn is because the object of the will is good as apprehended by the intellect and what is apprehended by intellect is universal and not particular. So freedom is ultimately rooted in rationality. As contrasted with a physician who weighs and compares means to restoring health, a sheep (to use Aquinas’s example) flees the wolf not by judging or comparing things but by instinct. This instinct Aquinas calls natural judgment as contrasted with the free judgment of the physician. The sheep does not deliberate or retain the power of being inclined to various things. By natural judgment or instinct, it necessarily flees. Its action is confined to one thing because, its appetite being sensitive and not rational, the sheep does not have universal good as the object of its appetite. It is not like the case of the physician, who, having a rational appetite for universal good, retains the power of being inclined to various means to his end and hence retains the power of deliberation. Aquinas makes this connection between the will and the intellect on the point of freedom.142 Human beings are free because they are rational. They are free because the object of the will is good as apprehended by intellect and the latter is always universal and not particular. By contrast, brute animals are unfree just because, lacking reason, the object of their sense cognition, and hence of their appetite, is always confined to some one particular good. Thus, . . . It must be born in mind that the appetitive power is in all things proportional to the apprehensive power, whereby it is moved as the movable by its mover. For the sensitive appetite seeks a particular good, while the will seeks the universal good, as was said above; just as the sense apprehends particulars while the intellect apprehends universals.143

This necessity of reason for freedom is brought out by the following summary of Aquinas’s argument: 1. The object of the will is good as apprehended by the intellect. 2. But good as apprehended by intellect is universal good. For in all things, what intellect apprehends is universal and not particular. 3. Therefore, the object of the will is universal good and not good as confined to this or that particular good. 4. So the will of a rational being is not determined by nature to anything except good as common to all things. 5. That being the case, it is possible that the will is inclined to any particular thing that is presented to it under the aspect of being good. No one particular good, as it were, attracts it to the exclusion of others and that explains the possibility of deliberation. 6. Therefore, all rational beings, just to the extent that they are rational, have free will resulting from the judgment of intellect.

Persons

197

To return to the example of the physician, it might seem that the tables are turned once she judges that a certain action is the best means to the end. At that point, when rational deliberation or comparison ceases, some might claim that the choice of that means is no longer free. She must choose what now seems to her to be the best means to the end. Thus, through willing the end, health, our physician in different respects both has and does not have the power of free choice. She has that power just because she deliberates about and compares various means. This implies that those means are limited, particular goods and hence that her will is not determined by any one of them. But she lacks that power, it will be urged, just so soon as, following deliberation and comparison, she judges that one of those means is the best means to the end in question. But even here, after the intellect presents the will with what it judges to be the best means to the end, Aquinas holds that the will can refrain from choosing that means. This might seem to be counterintuitive. But Aquinas’s point is that though the will at that point cannot choose another means, it can refrain from choosing any means at all. For recall that his view is that if something is means and not end, then it is a mix of good and non-good. It is only participatively good because it is only participatively end. Only what is end but in no sense means is non-participatively good or good per se. But so long as something is a mix of good and non-good, end and non-end, the intellect can consider it under the aspect of non-good or non-end. And then the will is not compelled to choose it. In any case, choice always follows upon deliberation through willing an end. That is why choice stands in the position of conclusion and end in the position of principle. But as conclusion in a practical syllogism, choice does not follow directly from the end. In between, connecting the two, is rational deliberation, functioning in the position of mediator. In terms of the example of the physician, the rule or principle is the statement of his end, i.e. “Physicians as physicians aim at health as their end.” The case or minor premise is, “This physician, following deliberation, judges that doing x is the best means to health in his patient.” And the result or conclusion is, “This physician ought to choose to do x.” Still, the paradox is that since x is a means to an end and not the end, the physician need not choose it. Going by the judgement of her intellect that x is the best means to the end, she can choose to do x. But since x is means and not end, x is not good alone but a mix of good and non-good. But if so, then it is always possible that the intellect focuses on what in x is non-good. And if it does, inclination of the will toward x need not follow. The paradox, then, is that the will is made both free and unfree by reason, though in different ways. Reason signifies in different respects both freedom

198

Chapter Five

and determinism. The will is free in the process of deliberating and this (as opposed to the instinctive behavior of sheep) is a rational act. This is free as opposed to natural judgement. The will is also free with respect to the result of that process. For the result of deliberating is the judgment of reason that something is the best means to the end. But what the intellect sees as being the best means is still means and not end. Just because of that is it non-good as well as being good. That is why it fails to compel the will. But the will is unfree with respect to something when reason sees it only as end and not possibly as means. And this Aquinas identifies with the final good or happiness. But the parallel between knowing and willing goes even further. Strictly speaking it is not conclusions that are understood by the intellect. Instead, it is principles that are understood and conclusions that are reasoned to. In the same way, strictly speaking, it is not means that are willed by the will. Instead, it is the end that is willed and the means that are chosen. Means are chosen and not willed just as conclusions are reasoned to and not understood. Thus, understanding is to reasoning what willing is to choosing.144 Moreover, the end of understanding, a principle, is to the end of reasoning, a true conclusion, as the end of willing, itself some end, is to the end of choosing, some means. And since the end of a thing is its good, this same analogy can be put this way: as a principle is the good of understanding and a true conclusion the good of reasoning on the side of intellect, so too some end is the good of willing and some means the good of choosing on the side of will.145 Finally, just as conclusions are said to be understood only because the principles in them are understood, so too, means are said to be willed only because the end to which they are directed is willed. We assent to a conclusion only because we assent to a principle. Similarly, we desire the means only because we desire the end.146 And since good has the nature of an end, it follows further that means are said to be good only because the end to which they are directed is good.147 In any case, the end is first in practical matters just as principles are first in speculative matters. A person’s intellect necessarily has being as its object and hence necessarily clings to those speculative principles that follow on being just as being. The latter include the principles of contradiction and identity. Similarly, the will of a person as person necessarily has the final end or good as its object and therefore clings of necessity to those practical principles that follow on the notion of good just as good. In neither case can intellect or will do otherwise. Finally, as between understanding and reasoning on the side of cognition and willing and choosing on the side of volition there is a further parallelism. The first member of each pair is superior to the second. As one reasons only because one understands first principles from which all reasoning proceeds, so too one chooses only because one wills an end to which all choice is directed as means.148

Persons

199

With Aristotle, Aquinas identifies the final end of persons as persons with happiness. Happiness alone is both desired for its own sake and not possibly for the sake of something else. Since that is so and since good has the nature of an end, it follows that happiness is the highest good. All other things are wanted either for the sake of something else only or else both for their own sake and for the sake of something else. The former are pure instrumental goods and the latter are mixed instrumental goods. Since we want hammers only for the sake of pounding something, they are purely instrumental goods. But health we want as an end in itself. Yet it is something that we can also want for the sake of happiness. So health is a mixed instrumental good. That there must be things that are desired for themselves is shown by the logic of ends. If S desires A for the sake of B and desires B for the sake of C and desires C for the sake of D and so on without end, then at no point does S’s desire have an object. For the only reason that things that are desired for the sake of something else are desired in the first place is that they are means to something that is desired for itself. So if nothing is desired for itself nothing is desired at all and desire has no object. But since all desire has an object, desire is then impossible if nothing is desired for itself. But desire evidently exists and has an object. Therefore, in any chain of desire, there is something that is desired for its own sake and not for the sake of another. Thus, S diets for the sake of losing weight and looses weight for the sake of lowering blood pressure and lowers blood pressure for the sake of avoiding cardio-vascular problems and avoids cardio-vascular problems for the sake of extending life. If extending life is not the final end in this chain and if there is no other final end in the chain, then S desires nothing. For the object of S’s desire at any level in the chain is supplied and explained only by S’s desiring a final end, such as, in this case, the extension of life. If S does not desire to extend his life and does not desire this for its own sake, then S does not desire to diet or lose weight or lower blood pressure or avoid cardiovascular problems. This argument at best shows that pure instrumental goods imply a mixed instrumental good. It does not show that pure instrumental goods imply an absolute or highest good. Thus, in the example given, extension of life is final end in the chain in question but it is not an absolute final end. For it is always possible that extension of life is desired for the sake of something else. Nevertheless, that there is in fact a highest good and that the latter is identified with happiness is shown by the fact that human beings want other things for happiness but do not and cannot want happiness for the sake of other things. But nothing else satisfies this description. We can want health, wealth, security, friendship, fame, honor, power, justice, knowledge, etc., for the sake of happiness but not vice versa. Therefore, happiness alone is the highest or final good.

200

Chapter Five

But though happiness is necessarily willed by all of us, we do not want everything of necessity. And here again Aquinas compares willing with knowing. In intelligible matters some contingent propositions have no necessary connection with first principles. This is shown by the fact that the denial of them does not imply the denial of the first principles. To these contingent propositions, therefore, the intellect does not assent of necessity. But other propositions do have a necessary connection with first principles. They cannot be denied without denying those principles. And to these necessary propositions, the intellect necessarily adheres only when it sees that they strictly follow from first principles. As it is with intellect so again is it with will. Certain goods have no necessary connection with happiness. For happiness is achieved without them. Since shunning them and willing happiness is not contradictory, they are contingent and not necessary goods. But other things are necessarily connected with happiness. These are the things by means of which a person attains the final end of seeing God. (Here Aquinas evidently has virtuous action in mind). For it is in this Beatific Vision, says Aquinas, that true happiness consists. And it goes without saying that these are necessary and not contingent goods. Even so, until the intellect sees the necessary connection between these goods and seeing God, the will does not adhere of necessity to these goods. And so far as Aquinas is concerned, this necessary connection is not seen until one actually sees God in the Beatific Vision. It follows that the will does not in this life adhere of necessity either to God or to the things that are of God. And this is quite compatible with saying that the will always and necessarily adheres to happiness. A person might adhere of necessity to a first principle and fail to adhere to what follows from that principle because she fails to see the strict connection between the principle and the conclusion. Just so, a person might adhere of necessity to happiness and fail to choose the necessary means to that end because she fails to see the strict connection between the end and the means. The crucial difference is that in the second case that connection is never seen by us in this life since God is never seen in this life. Therefore, though in this life the will is necessitated to will happiness as final end, it is not here necessitated to will God as final end. For intellect might miss seeing that happiness consists in attaining the vision of God. Not just that, but even if the intellect does make that identification, the will need not choose the necessary means to achieving that end. For it is compelled to choose those means only if intellect sees the necessary connection of means and end. And this it does not see until the end in question is actually achieved and the Beatific Vision is realized.149 By contrast, beatified angels and saints, says Aquinas, who see God in heaven, cannot turn away from God and the things that are of God.

Persons

201

From this it might be thought that our freedom on earth is more perfect than that of the angels in heaven. For in this life we can choose either good or evil while angels, who see God directly, can only choose good. For, seeing God directly, they are unable to make choices that are inconsistent with that vision. Aquinas answers by once again comparing reasoning and choosing.150 Drawing conclusions from or according to principles is due to the perfection of the intellect. But drawing a conclusion in violation of the order of principles comes from a defect in the intellect. By the same token, being able to choose various means under the end is due to the perfection of the will’s liberty. But electing anything that conflicts with the end comes from a defect of the liberty of choice. For example, it belongs to the perfection of the liberty of his free choice that a physician is able to choose various means to the end of the health of his patient. But the physician’s electing to do what is inconsistent with that end comes from a defect in that liberty. Therefore, that we can in this life choose either good or evil while beatified angels can only choose good does not imply that our liberty is greater than the liberty of angels. What follows is just the converse. The liberty of angels is greater than ours.151

QUESTIONS SIX AND SEVEN We come finally to questions 6) and 7) above. As for 6), even though the will is free in its choices, it is determined in its volition of its first end by an exterior principle. For this Aquinas argues in Summa theologica I-II, q9 a4. It might be summarized as follows. Suppose a physician S wills as an end E the health of a patient R and then deliberates about the means to E. Since S does not always will E but begins to do so, there must be some exterior efficient cause of the exercise of S’s act of willing. Now it cannot be argued that S moves herself to will the health of R through willing some further end, E-1. For for one thing, S wills E here as physician and E (health) is the final end of a physician acting as physician. But if S wills E here only through willing some further end E-1, then E would not be S’s final end as physician after all. Instead, E would be but a means to another end, i.e. E-1. For another, even supposing that S moves herself to will E as means through willing some more remote end E-1, it is clear that S does not always will E-1. Some further efficient cause is then required to move S from potentially willing E-1 to actually willing E-1. And if S moves herself to will E-1 as means through willing some still more remote end, E-2, then there must be a further exterior cause of her willing E-2, and so on, ad infinitum. The only way to skirt the regress is to affirm that S’s will does not always move itself but that it advances to its first movement by dint of being

202

Chapter Five

moved by some exterior mover or efficient cause. In sum, there must be something that is willed as an end and not as a means since anything that is willed as a means is willed under an end. The latter is the will’s first movement in the means-end chain. But since what is willed in this movement is not always willed, it follows that the will adheres to this first movement through the agency of an exterior cause. And just to that extent is the will determined and not free in that first movement. Finally, as for 7), in Summa theologica I-II q9 a6 Aquinas identifies the exterior efficient cause of this first movement of the will with God. The argument divides into two parts. The first shows that only the cause of the will is the cause of the will’s voluntary movement. And the second shows that only God is the cause of the will. I summarize the arguments in reverse order. The will is by definition the inclination to universal good. Nothing, though, that is only participatively good can cause an inclination to universal good. (By analogy, since primary matter is the potentiality to all forms, no mere participative form can cause primary matter). It follows that nothing that is only participatively good can cause the will. Therefore, the will is caused as to its efficient cause by universal good or by goodness itself. But since the latter is identified with God, it follows that the will is only caused by God as exterior principle. Now all movement of a power is movement from within. Thus, seeing, which is the movement of the power of sight, is from within and not from without the agent. But all movement from within a thing is caused by the cause of that thing. Thus, while I might be the cause of the upward, violent movement of a stone, the movement of the stone that comes from within i.e. its downward, natural (as opposed to violent) movement is not caused by me but by the cause of the stone. Therefore, the movement of a power is caused by the cause of that power. But voluntary movement is the movement of a power, i.e. the will. Therefore, voluntary movement is caused by the cause of the will. But it was just shown that God is the cause of the will. Therefore, God is the cause of the voluntary movement of the will.

NOTES 1. Aquinas, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation, trans. J.F. Anderson, (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1956) 65 [2], 199–200. 2. ———, Summa theologica, in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas (New York: The Modern Library, 1948), I q75 a1, 281–2. 3. ———, Summa theologica I q75 a1, 281–2. 4. ———, Summa theologica I q78 a1–2, 321–27. 5. ———, Summa theologica I q76 a3, 302–06. 6. ———, Summa theologica I q76 a3, 302–06; ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 58 [3], 173.

Persons

203

7. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation 58 [4],173–74.; ———, Summa theologica I q76 a3, 302–06. 8. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 58[6], 174–75. 9. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 58[8], 175–76. 10. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two, 58[3], 173. 11. ———, Summa theologica I q76 a1, 293–96. 12. ———, Summa theologica I q76 a3, 303–06. 13. ———, Summa theologica I q84 a2, 381—82. 14. ———, Summa theologica I q78 a3, 328–29. 15. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation 50[3], 149–50. 16. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation 59[13], 180. 17. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation 59[5], 178. 18. ———, Summa theologica I q77 a5, 319–20. 19. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation 82 [12]-[13], 270. ———, Summa Theologica I q75 a2, 284. 20. ———, Summa theologica I q77 a5, 320. 21. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 82[12], 270. 22. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 57[3], 169. 23. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 57, 168–72. 24. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writings of Saint Thomas Aquinas (New York: Random House, 1945), vol.1. I q50 a2, 482–83. 25. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas I q85 a1, 401–02. (italics mine) 26. ———, Summa theologica I q77 a1, 312–13. 27. ———, Summa theologica I q77, a1, 312–13. 28. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two 69[5], 208. 29. ———, Summa Theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writings vol.1, I q50 a5, 488–90; ———, On Being and Essence, trans by A. Maurer (Toronto: The Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies,1949), 4, 44. 30. ———,On Being and Essence, 4, 44. 31. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas, I q77 a3, 317–18. 32. ———, Summa theologica I q78 a1, 322–23. 33. ———, Summa theologica I q78, a2, 325–26. 34. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writings vol.1, I q77 a7, 729–30. 35. ———, Summa theologica I, Q. 77, art.7, 729–30. 36. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas I q78 a1, 322–23. 37. ———, Summa theologica I q78 a1, 322–23. 38. ———, Summa theologica I q84 a1, 377–79. 39. ———, Summa theologica I q79 a4: reply obj. 4, 335. 40. ———, Summa theologica I q79 a3: reply obj.2, 342. 41. ———, Commentary on the Trinity of Boethius, in J. Maritain, Philosophy of Nature (New York: Philosophical Library, 1951) q5 a1; q5 a3, 191–92. 42. ———, Commentary on the Trinity of Boethius, q5 a3.

204

Chapter Five

43. ———, Summa theologica I q79, a4, 344–45. 44. ———, Summa theologica I q85 a5, 415–16. 45. ———, Summa theologica I q79 a4, 344–45. 46. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle translated by J.P. Rowan (Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1961), IV. L.6: C605, 243. 47. ———, Summa theologica I q82, a4, 365–66. 48. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a4, 174–5. 49. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth q21 a1 in J.F. Anderson, trans. Introduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas (Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1953), 77. 50. ———, Summa theologica I q16, a5, 175–76. 51. ———, Summa theologica I q17 a1, 183–85. 52. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth in J.F. Anderson, trans. Introduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas q21 a2, 83. 53. ———, Summa theologica I q82, a4, 365–66; ———, Summa theologica I q16 a4.1, 175. 54. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a4.1, 175. 55. ———, Commentary on the Nicomachean Ethics, trans. C. I. Litzinger (Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1964) VI.L.III: C 1143, 553. 56. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, VII. L4: C1234, 482. 57. ———, Summa theologica I q16a 2, 171–72. 58. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a4.1, 175. 59. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, IV. L6: C605, 243. 60. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a4, 365–66. 61. ———, Summa theologica I q85 a1, 401–02. 62. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writingss vol.2 I-II q13 a6, 284–85. 63. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth in J.F. Anderson, trans. An Introduction to the Metaphysics of St.Thomas Aquinas qI a2, 67. 64. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a1, 169–70. 65. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72. 66. ———, Summa theologica I q16, a2, 171–72; I q82 a4, 174–75. 67. ———, Summa theologica I q16, a4 reply 2, 175. 68. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72. 69. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, VI. L.4: C1236, 482. 70. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72. 71. ———, Summa theologica I q17 a3, 187–88. 72. ———, Summa theologica I-II q57 a2, 569. 73. ———Summa theologica I q2, a1, 21–2; I-II q57 a2, 569; ———, Commentary on the Nicomachean Ethics, I.L.IV:C 52, 24; see also.Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, 1095b 1–4. 74. P.F. Strawson, “On Referring” in Essays in Conceptual Analysis, ed. A. Flew (London: Macmillan, 1963), 27–8. 75. B. Russell, The Problems of Philosophy (London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1970), 125. 76. In this and succeeding paragraphs, I borrow material and arguments that originally appeared in my paper, “Subjectivity and Objectivity in Truth.” See Acta Philosophica II, 14, 2005, 299–312.

Persons

205

77. B. Russell, The Problems of Philosophy (London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1970), 124. 78. The following paragraphs use arguments which appear in my “Subjectivity and Objectivity in Truth”in Acta Philosphica II 14, 2005, 304–05. 79. W.V. Quine, Philosophy of Logic, (Englewood Cliffs, N.J: Prentice Hall, 1970), 14. 80. ———, Philosophy of Logic, 14. 81. ———, Philosophy of Logic, 14. 82. ———, Philosophy of Logic, 11. 83. Aquinas, Summa theologica I q83 a3, 373. 84. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a4.1, 366. 85. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a1, 361–62. 86. ———, Summa theologica I q81 a2, 356–57. 87. ———, Summa theologica I q81 a2, 356–57. 88. ———, Summa theologica I q81 a3, 358–59. 89. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a5, 505–06. 90. ———, Summa theologica I q80, a2, 352–53. 91. ———, Summa contra gentiles, Book Two 48[6], 146. 92. See Anthony Kenny, Aquinas On Mind (London: Routledge, 1993), 62. 93. Aquinas, Summa theologica I, q5 a2 reply obj.1, 37; I q5 a4, 40. 94. The intellect is not moved by the will, for example, in its simple apprehension of essences. 95. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a4, 375; I-II q8 a2, 496. 96. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a4, 503–04. 97. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a1–2, 363–64. 98. See Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, book III, ch.3, 1113a 10–13. 99. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a3 reply to obj. 2. 100. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a4; I q82 a1, 361–63; I-II q6 a4, 485–86. 101. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a1, 368–70; ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 48 [2] and [6], 144, 146. 102. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a3, reply obj.3, 374; ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation 48 [2], 144. 103. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a1and a3, 368–70; 372–73. 104. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a.3, 502–03; I-II q13 a3, 515; I q83 a4, 374–75. 105. See Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 1112b 13—1113a 5. 106. ———, Summa theologica I-II q8 a2, 496–97; I q83 a4, 375. 107. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a1, 498–99. 108. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a.1, 498–99. 109. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a1 reply obj.3, 500; I q16 a4 reply obj 1, 175. 110. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a4, 174–75. 111. From the impossibility of an infinite regress here Aquinas concludes that the will’s first movement is from an exterior mover. See ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a4, 503–04. 112. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 1095a 13–20. 113. Aquinas, Summa theologica I q 83 a3 reply obj. 2, 374.

206

Chapter Five

114. ———, Summa theologica I-II q13 a1, 514. 115. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a1, 361–63. 116. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a3, 373–74. 117. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a1, 369–70. 118. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a1; Summa contra gentiles Book II, ch.48, # 3. 119. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writings vol.2 I-II q13 a6, 285. 120. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas I q82 a4, 365–66. 121. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a1, 498–99. 122. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a4, 365–66. 123. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a2, 363–64. 124. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a3, 502–03. 125. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a4, 503–04. 126. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a6, 507–08. 127. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a1 reply 3, 500; I q82 a4, 365–67. 128. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a4 reply 1, 366. 129. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a4, reply 2, 367. 130. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a4, reply 1, 366. 131. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writings vol.1 I q82 a3, 780–81. 132. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a4, 374–75. 133. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a3, 373–74. 134. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a3, 502–03. 135. ———, Summa contra gentiles, Book Two: Creation 48 [6], 146. 136. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a3 and 4, 502–04. 137. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 23 [2], 68. 138. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a1, 368–69. 139. ———, Summa theologica in Pegis, ed. Basic Writings, vol. 2 I-II q13 a6, 284–85. 140. ———, Summa theologica I-II q13 a6, 284–85. 141. ———, Summa theologica I-II q13 a6, 284–85 142. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 48 [6], 146. 143. ———, Summa theologica in Pegis, ed. Basic Writings vol.1 I q64 a2, 604. 144. ———, Summa theologica in Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas, I q83 a4, 374–75. 145. ———, Summa theologica I-II q8 a2, 496–97; I q83 a4, 374–75. 146. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a4, 374–75. 147. ———, Summa theologica I-II q8 a2, 496–97. 148. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a4, 374–75. 149. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a2, 363–64. 150. ———, Summa theologica in Pegis, ed, Basic Writings vol. 1 I q62, a8, reply 3, 582. 151. ———, Summa theologica I q62 a 8, reply 3, 582.

Chapter Six

Ethics

IN DEFENSE OF ETHICS Since value and moral relativism and subjectivism are prevalent views about concepts like value, right, wrong, good, bad, evil, etc., any discussion of Aquinas’s ethics must be prefaced by a defense of value and moral absolutism and value and moral objectivism. Like Plato and Aristotle, Aquinas holds that there is objective good and evil in the world independently of what persons think is good and evil and that some actions of persons are objectively speaking right and wrong independently of whether persons think they are right or wrong. Following Aristotle, Aquinas distinguishes the theoretical from the practical sciences. The object of the former is knowledge for its own sake while the object of the latter is knowledge for the sake of doing or making. In the light of this distinction, almost the first question in ethics is whether it is a theoretical or a practical science. But it is not the very first question. The latter is whether ethics is a science at all. ‘Science’ comes form the Latin word ‘scio’ which means to know. In its root and basic meaning, therefore, a science is a body of knowledge using first principles. But since knowledge entails truth, it follows that if ethics is the science of values, then ethics contains a number of objectively true value statements to the effect that such and such things are good or bad and that such and such actions are right or wrong. However, ethical relativists deny that such statements are objectively true of false. If they are right about this then ethics is not a science. And then the question of whether ethics is a theoretical or a practical science is moot. Unless there is such a thing as right action apart from what persons believe is right action, the question of what constitutes objectively right action is pointless. And unless there is such a thing as good apart from what persons believe 207

208

Chapter Six

is good, the question as to what constitutes objective good is also pointless. And it is the view of moral relativism that saying that an action is right is the same as saying that some person or persons believe that the action is right and it is the view of value relativism that saying that something or other is good is the same as saying that some person or persons believe that it is good. Several stock objections to moral and value relativism defeat those views. First, there is Moore’s objection that both views deprive belief of an object.1 If “A is right” means “S believes that A is right,” then, since “A is right” appears in the definiens, it follows that the definiens reads, “S believes S believes that A is right.” But since “A is right” once again appears in the latter, then the latter is rendered, “S believes that S believes that S believes that A is right.” Still again, since “A is right” appears in this third phrase, then this third phrase becomes in turn, “S believes that S believes that S believes that S believes that A is right,” and so on ad infinitum. Since the result of this is that the object of belief is forever postponed and belief must have an object, it follows that A is right” is not defined as “S believes that A is right” and moral relativism is wrong. And since it is evident that the same criticism applies, mutatis mutandis, to defining “X is good” as “S believes that X is good,” it follows that value relativism is also wrong. A second objection to moral and value relativism invokes the celebrated “open-question” test. If “A is right” means “S believes that A is right” then it is not an open question to ask if an action is right when some person or persons believe it is right. But that is an open question. Therefore “A is right” is not defined as “S believes that A is right.” And the same objection applies, mutatis mutandis to defining “X is good” as “S believes that X is good.” A third objection is that moral and value relativism imply that, just so long as it is believed to be right or good, respectively, any action or thing is just as right or good as is any other action or thing. If “A is right” means “S believes that A is right” then just in case someone believes that murdering the sick is right and someone else believes that helping the sick live is right, it cannot be said that, morally speaking, there is anything to choose between murdering the sick and helping them live. And if “X is good” means “S believes that X is good,” then just in case someone believes equality under the law is good and someone else believes inequality under the law is good, it cannot be said that, value-wise, there is anything to choose between equality under the law and inequality under the law. But since neither one of these consequences can be countenanced, it follows that both moral and value relativism are false. As for value and moral subjectivism, it seems that these positions stand or fall with value and moral relativism. If it is shown that value and moral subjectivism imply value and moral relativism, respectively, then since the former are false so are the latter. It also works the other way around. If it is in-

Ethics

209

dependently shown that both value and moral subjectivism are false and these views imply value and moral relativism, respectively, then value and moral relativism are also false. To show that it does work both ways, consider the definitions of value and moral subjectivism. A person S is a value subjectivist just when S believes that saying “X is good” is true means nothing but X is desired by some person or persons. And a person S is a moral subjectivist just when S believes that saying “A is right” is true means nothing but A is approved of by some person or persons. So value subjectivism (hereafter, VS), is the view that “X is good” means “X is desired by some person or persons” and moral subjectivism (hereafter, MS) is the view that “A is right” is true means “A is approved of by some person or persons.” It can now be argued that, as defined, value and moral subjectivism both imply and are implied by value and moral relativism (hereafter, VR and MR), respectively. For suppose that it is true that X is desired by some person or persons if and only if that person or persons believe “X is good.” Call this G. G and VS imply that “X is good” is true if and only if some person or persons believes “X is good” is true (VR). In other words, VS and G imply VR. But if it is admitted that VR is unacceptable, then, if G is true, it follows that VS is also unacceptable. A false conclusion in any valid argument means that at least one of its premises is false. Moreover, assuming MS and assuming, (A), A is approved of by some person or persons if and only if that person or persons believe “A is right” is true, it follows that “A is right” is true if and only if some person or persons believe “A is right” is true (MR). In other words, MS and (A) imply MR. But if it is once admitted that MR is unacceptable, then, if (A) is true, it follows that MS is also unacceptable. And as was said, it also works the other way around. VR and G imply VS and MR and (A) imply MS. But it is important to note here that it does not follow that VS is false just because VR is, assuming G is true. For in any valid argument a false premise does not imply a false conclusion. And by this same rule, it does not follow that MS is false just because MR is, assuming (A) is true. None the less, as before, if independently of the truth-value of either VR or MR it is shown that that VS and MS are false, then it is also shown that VR and MR, respectively, are also false. In any case, given the validity of the foregoing four arguments, if either VR or MR are true (false) while G and (A) are true, then VS and RS, respectively, are also true (false). And if either VS or MS are true (false) while G and (A) are true, then VR and MR, respectively, are also true (false). Thus, relativism and subjectivism in ethics are equivalent if not identical views. If the one is true the other is true and vice versa and if the one is false the other is false and vice versa. But since, previously, it was shown that both

210

Chapter Six

value and moral relativism are false, it follows that both value and moral subjectivism are also false. Moreover, both value and moral subjectivism can be shown to be false independently of the fact that they are implied by what is false, namely, value and moral relativism, respectively. The arguments against them parallel the arguments that we previously saw defeat value and moral relativism. First, if “X is good” means some person or persons desire X, then just in case some person or persons desire lawlessness and disorder while some other person or persons desire law and order it cannot be said that, value-wise, there is anything to choose between these two states. And on the side of moral subjectivism, if “A is right” means some person or persons approve of A, then just in case some person or persons approve of murdering the homeless and another person or persons approve of helping them, it cannot be said that, morally speaking, there is anything to choose between the two actions. But as this is intolerable, it follows that value and moral subjectivism are wrong. Second, if “X is good” means some person or persons desire X, then it is never an open question to ask if lawlessness and disorder are good after it is shown that some person or persons desire them. But this is an open question. And on the side of moral subjectivism, if “A is right” means some person or persons approve of A, then it is never an open question to ask if murdering the homeless is right after it is discovered that some person or persons approve of it. But once again, this is an open question. Therefore, both value and moral subjectivism are untenable. Third, if “A is right” means “some person or persons approve of A” then, counterintuitively, when a person S says A is right and another person R says A is wrong, S and R are not having a moral disagreement.2 For all S means is that some person or persons approve of A and all R means is that some person or persons disapprove of A. But these latter two statements either refer to the very same person or persons or they do not. If they do, then S and R are having a factual and not a moral disagreement. They disagree only about whether the same person or persons approve of A or not. But if they do not refer to the same person or persons, then S and R are having neither a factual nor a moral disagreement. Since in either case the possibility of moral disagreement is eliminated and persons do at times have moral disagreements, it follows that “A is right” does not mean “some person or persons approve of A” and moral subjectivism is wrong. A celebrated second type of moral subjectivism is emotivism. It is the child of logical positivism. According to logical positivists, since ethical questions like “Is x right?” cannot be answered by empirical means they are not even genuine questions to begin with. They are pseudo-questions masquerading as real questions. In the view of the positivist, even the question, “Is moral rel-

Ethics

211

ativism true or is moral absolutism true?” is a question which is in principle unanswerable since it is not a question that can be settled by direct or indirect appeal to sense perception. But a question that is in principle unanswerable is a senseless question and hence is one which ought not to be raised in the first place. But if a question is nonsensical then any attempted answer to that question in the form of a statement is also nonsensical. So if a person states that x is right or that there are objective moral values or that there are objective moral obligations, that person, the positivist would say, makes statements which, because they are empirically unverifiable, are neither true nor false. Instead they are cognitively meaningless. If the positivists are right about this then there is no such thing as a science of ethics. For as was said, it is a condition of any body of knowledge whatever that the statements that belong to that body of knowledge are or can be objectively true. But are positivists right in saying that, outside of tautological statements, the only cognitively meaningful statements are those which are empirically verifiable or falsifiable? A hint that this criterion of meaningfulness is too narrow should have occurred to positivists when they saw the consequences of their criterion both for philosophy as a whole and for ethics in particular. As regards the former, if non-tautological statements are meaningful only if they are empirically verifiable, then every philosophical question turns out to be meaningless. The result is that philosophy is eliminated. Age-old philosophical questions like, “Does God exist?”, “Does man have free will?” “Are minds distinct from bodies?”, etc. are no longer legitimately asked just because the way we go about answering these questions is by what philosophers call reason as opposed to experience and experimentation. As regards the latter, statements containing moral predicates such as “Genocide is wrong” become nonsensical just because the wrongness of genocide is empirically unverifiable. If the strangeness of these consequences is not enough to trigger in the positivist’s mind some suspicion that his definition of meaningfulness is too narrow, his own identification of moral judgments like “Genocide is wrong” with an emotive outburst of the order, “Down with genocide”! should have been enough to arouse that suspicion. For the obvious effect of this reduction of ethical discourse to the mere venting of emotion is that it deprives the expressed emotion of any point. If the grammatical predicates “right” and “wrong” never signify any objective property which is being predicated of a subject it follows that there is nothing objectively wrong with, say, the Nazi holocaust. Wrongness comes in (to the extent that it comes in at all) only when someone expresses a negative emotion toward the holocaust. But then, how can the expression of that emotion have any point? Why, instead of expressing a negative emotion toward the holocaust, would it not be equally fitting and proper to express a positive emotion toward it? The answer of common sense here is

212

Chapter Six

that the negative emotion is fitting and the positive emotion is unfitting because the holocaust was wrong. But as the positivist holds that it can never be true and in fact is always senseless to say this, he cannot avail himself of that answer. But in that case is he not forced to say that the expression of any one emotion is as fitting and appropriate as the expression of any other emotion in the face of the holocaust or for that matter any action at all? But in that case the notion of the fittingness of an emotion loses all point.3 So unless we care to abandon our belief that the expression of some emotions in some situations is fitting while the expression of other emotions in those same situations is unfitting, the positivist’s criterion of cognitive meaningfulness is too narrow. But then, the positivist’s particular threat to ethics as a science or body of knowledge is eliminated. But trouble for positivists runs deeper. For not only does it appear that their criterion of meaning is too narrow but it seems to be self-refuting as well. Critics of logical positivism have been quick to point out to the positivist that if it is true that all meaningful non-tautological statements are empirically verifiable then that very statement, “All meaningful non-tautological statements are empirically verifiable” is meaningless because it is unverifiable. Thus, the positivist’s very own criterion of meaningfulness cannot itself be meaningfully stated. To escape this, positivists sometimes fall back on Russell’s celebrated theory of types. According to that theory, a predicate on any level L can be meaningfully applied only to a subject on level L-1. For example, it makes sense on this theory to say “Smith is a man” or “Man is an animal” or “An animal is an organism,” but it is neither true nor false but rather nonsensical to say, “Smith is an animal” or “Man is an organism.” Further, the theory holds that not only predicates but also whole statements are meaningful only if they refer to things on the level just below them. In that case, no statement refers to itself. But if so, then it is meaningless to ask the question, “Is the statement ‘All meaningful non-tautological statements are empirically verifiable’ itself empirically verifiable?” For to ask this question is to assume, falsely, that the statement in question can sensibly refer to itself and not just to statements on the level below it. And so, positivists would reply, if Russell’s theory of types is correct, then it is a mistake of a logical kind, a kind of category mistake, even to ask whether their stated criterion of meaningfulness applies to itself or not. For no statement at all applies to itself. But quite apart from whether the kinds of problems and paradoxes which Russell used his theory of types to solve can be solved in some other way instead, can positivists consistently invoke the theory of types to escape the charge that, by their own criterion of meaningful statements, their statement of that criterion is meaningless? For to fall back on the theory of types in order to answer this objection positivists must accept the consequence of that

Ethics

213

theory, namely, that no statement refers to itself. Otherwise they cannot use the theory to escape the charge that their principle that only empirically verifiable non-analytic statements are meaningful is itself meaningless since it is neither analytic nor empirically verifiable. But if the statement, “No statement refers to itself” is true, then that very statement, i.e. “No statement refers to itself” is one that does not refer to itself. But then that statement is an exception to the rule that no statement refers to itself and so is a statement that does refer to itself. Therefore, positivists cannot consistently fall back on the theory of types to escape the objection that their own criterion of a meaningful statement is by that same criterion made meaningless. For to do so they must adopt the rule that no statement refers to itself and if this is true then it is false. In other words, recourse to the theory of types to answer the objection in question only serves to resurrect the very same problem that that theory was designed to solve in the first place. But to return to moral relativism, the main argument that has always been offered in its behalf is the widespread disagreement among whole societies and individuals of the same society on any given moral issue. Americans are generally outraged by bribery among public officials but many non-Americans are almost indifferent to it. Polygamy is considered a vice in some societies but a virtue in others. Capital punishment is considered right by many Americans but wrong by many other Americans. If, therefore, both individuals and whole societies differ on what they judge to be right or wrong, good or bad, valuable or valueless, does it not follow that there is nothing really right or wrong, good or bad, valuable or valueless in and of itself or objectively speaking? In other words, is it not the case that sociological relativism or the datum that different societies as a matter of fact disagree in their moral beliefs, implies ethical relativism or the view that no moral judgments are objectively true? Succinctly, No ethical judgments are universally agreed on. Therefore, no ethical judgments are objectively true.

Before answering this question, caution must be exercised from the start as regards this issue between ethical relativism and ethical absolutism. For what sometimes appears to be ethical disagreement among either whole societies or individuals in the same society is on closer look not disagreement on fundamental ethical principles at all It is only disagreement about how those principles are best realized. For example, two societies, A and B, may disagree on the question of whether abortion is right or wrong but agree that only those acts are right which tend to promote the most amount of good for the society as a whole. It is just that in society A it is believed that abortion on demand

214

Chapter Six

does promote the most good for the society whereas in society B it is believed that abortion does not. To the extent that the members of these societies believe that there is even one over-all objectively true ethical principle, they are not ethical relativists at all but ethical absolutists. In other words, an ethical relativist is defined as one who denies that there are any objectively true moral judgments or values, either judgments as to the rightness or wrongness of specific actions such as abortion, capital punishment, mercy-killing, etc., or judgments which express general moral principles such as “All and only those acts are right which promote the general happiness.” But to return to the question, does the fact of universal disagreement on either the level of specific moral issues or on the level of general moral principles imply that there are no objectively true moral judgments on either one of these two levels? Does it follow from the fact that no ethical judgments are universally agreed on that no ethical judgments are objectively true? The answer is that it follows only if it is assumed that only what everyone agrees to is objectively true. But this assumption no one can believe. Otherwise, just in case it was universally agreed in 500 B.C. that the Earth was flat then it was objectively true in 500 B.C. that the Earth was flat. Besides, resting the case for ethical relativism on the fact of moral disagreement forces the ethical relativist to abandon the very moral relativism which he espouses. For if the success of the argument from disagreement trades on the premise that only what everyone agrees to is objectively true, then the relativist is forced to deny that even ethical relativism is objectively true. For it is evident that ethical relativism is not universally agreed on. The argument from disagreement thus cuts both ways. Just to the extent that he invokes that argument to show that ethical judgments are not objectively true, the moral relativist also shows that his own position of moral relativism is not objectively true. Moreover, so far from showing that ethical relativism is true, the fact of moral dispute among individuals and whole societies, even on the level of basic moral principles, presupposes the truth of the very opposite position from moral relativism, namely, moral absolutism. This is a point which is not often appreciated but which, on reflection, becomes clear. If in morals there is no such thing as right or wrong objectively speaking but only right to me or wrong to me or right to us or wrong to us (just as in the matter of taste there is indisputably no such thing as something which tastes good period but only something which tastes good to me)—then the very concept of a moral dispute is as pointless as a dispute as to whether, say, coffee tastes better than tea. All dispute or debate on any issue whatever in which one side affirms some proposition P and the other side denies P presupposes both that either P or not-P is objectively true and that the parties to the debate believe that one of these two propositions is objectively true. Otherwise, every dispute ends up like the “dis-

Ethics

215

pute” as to whether coffee really tastes better than tea. Therefore, some reason other than that of widespread disagreement on ethical issues must be used by the relativist to make his case. But what could this other reason possibly be? To answer this question, some unreflective relativists shift the ground of their argument from the fact of disagreement on moral issues to the truth of democracy. No person, they say, has the right to impose his moral opinions on others. Typically, their argument takes the form of the question, “Who is to say what is right or wrong?”, the implication being that no person has the right to dictate to others what they ought to do in moral situations. The very idea of an absolute dictator prescribing how his subjects should act boils the blood of every democrat. The irrelevance of this argument, though, hardly needs to be pointed out. Those who support moral relativism on the basis of it assume that moral absolutism implies political absolutism. They assume that the fact that moral values and judgments are objectively true implies that some person or group of persons has the right to impose those objective values and judgments on others. But nothing of the sort follows and no enlightened moral absolutist believes that it follows. The question, then, may be reasserted. If the fact of moral disagreement cannot be used to establish moral relativism then why should anyone hold that such a relativism is true? True, there may be non-rational reasons why it is held to be true. A person may convince himself of the truth of relativism in ethics only in order to justify his own wrongful acts or in order to please or curry the favor of some other person or group of persons. But these are not rational or logical reasons for becoming a relativist in the sense that they can be offered as evidence for a defense of relativism in ethics. How, then, does the relativist rationally support the claim that there is no objective truth in ethics? The answer to this question seems to be that there just is no rational or logical defense of ethical relativism. And this despite the fact that many individuals believe that this relativism is true. There is no more general truth from which ethical relativism follows and it is not an empirical generalization. Some relativists in ethics say that they refuse to be “hemmed in” by the rules of society and that they want to be free of all fetters in order to express themselves fully and creatively. And somehow or other this is supposed to imply that there is no objective moral order. But this is not only a startling non-sequitur but it is also a remarkable concession to the view which relativists ostensibly oppose. For the possibility of full and creative expression of self is here elevated by the relativist to the status of objective value. But even if subjectivism and relativism in ethics are refuted, it does not follow that ethics is established as a science. For with the moral skeptic, it is possible to affirm the objective truth of moral statements but deny that these

216

Chapter Six

truths are known. And since a science is a body of knowledge, there is no science of ethics if there is no knowledge of ethical truths. As much as meeting the challenge of relativism and subjectivism, therefore, answering the moral skeptic is also a condition of showing that ethics is a science. Because moral skeptics are limited as opposed to absolute skeptics, their view is not susceptible of the difficulties of the latter. Absolute skeptics who hold that no true statement is known must hold that this statement is ether known or believed by them. If the former, their view is evidently self-contradictory. If the latter, their view is either self-contradictory or implies an infinite regress. If they claim that their view that no true statement is known is believed but not known by them, then they assume that they either believe or know they are believing and not knowing the statement in question. If the latter, they admit to knowledge after all. But if their assumption is that they are believing and not knowing that they are believing and not knowing that they are believing and not knowing the statement in question, then once again they assume that either they believe that they are believing and not knowing that they are believing and not knowing the statement in question or that they know this. And to avoid knowledge once again, they must choose the former assumption. But if their assumption is that they are believing and not knowing that they are believing and not knowing that they are believing and not knowing that they are believing and not knowing the statement in question, then once again they assume that either they believe this or know this. And so it is clear that somewhere along the line they either admit knowledge and hence contradict themselves or else invite an infinite regress of acts of believing. But for their part, moral skeptics hold not that no truth is known but that no ethical truth is known. And this limited skepticism saves them from the forgoing dilemma. But this only exchanges one dilemma for another. To be consistent with their own view, moral skeptics must hold that even general ethical principles such as “One ought to do good and avoid evil” are unknown. But it is difficult to see how it is practically consistent to hold that this is not known but that non-ethical principles such as “All events are caused” are known. To avoid being arbitrary, it seems that moral skeptics must disclaim knowledge of the latter if they disclaim knowledge of the former. But if they do, then moral skeptics are more than just moral skeptics. They are skeptics about natural principles as well. Their moral skepticism is thus a slippery slope. Succinctly, moral skeptics are caught in this dilemma: either they hold that ethical principles are known and other ethical truths are unknown or else they hold that no ethical statements at all are known. If the former, then moral skeptics are arbitrary in their treatment of ethical truths. For why say that some ethical truths are known while others are not? But if the latter, then they exchange arbitrariness in their treatment of ethical statements for arbi-

Ethics

217

trariness in their treatment of ethical principles vis-à-vis natural principles. With the acceptance of moral skepticism they are practically forced to accept skepticism about natural principles too. And then they abandon the possibility of knowing anything for sure about the world. This consequence, of course, moral skeptics might countenance. But to the extent that they do, they at least claim to know that neither ethical nor natural principles are known by us. But then it becomes difficult to see how, once again, they avoid arbitrariness in affirming the truth of this general, epistemological proposition while espousing skepticism about general ethical and natural principles. To put to rest all such objections of arbitrariness, moral skeptics might end with denying that any principles at all are known for sure by us, be they ethical, natural, epistemological or otherwise. But even that will not save them from the objection of arbitrariness. For then our skeptic at least claims to know that that statement is true. But then it is arbitrary, if not outright contradictory, to accept that statement while all the while denying that any principles at all are known for sure by us. Granted, therefore, that there is such a thing as objective good and bad and objectively speaking right and wrong actions, the crucial question is, in what do they consist? To this very many answers have been proffered in the long history of philosophy, but here in this final chapter I consider only the answer of Aquinas. To do so I recur to the idea of natural purpose, contrasting it with the mere pragmatic purpose of recent philosophy.

PRAGMATIC VERSUS NATURAL PURPOSE William James characterized pragmatism as a method and not as a doctrine. It is compatible with any and all metaphysics and so is not itself a metaphysics. It lies amidst our theories “like a corridor in a hotel.”4 It thus feeds many rooms. In one room is a metaphysical idealist, in another is an atheist, in a third a theist, in a fourth a realist, in a fifth a nominalist, and so on. Yet all the guests in all these rooms may be pragmatists. It all depends on how they determine the truth of their beliefs. James’s view is shared even today. Otherwise we would not classify both Peirce and James as pragmatists. If there is a distinctly pragmatic answer to the problem of universals (as over against a realist and nominalist answer) it could not be said that both Peirce and James are pragmatists. For Peirce is a realist and James a nominalist. With James as with Dewey this method of fixating the truth of beliefs is instrumentalism. Instrumentalism in truth is the idea that to say that a proposition is true is to say that belief in it helps us accomplish our goals, thereby satisfying us practically. The true is thus equated with the instrumentally

218

Chapter Six

good.5 Thus, to the extent alone that one justifies one’s belief in either atheism or theism in terms of the practical utility of either belief, one is a pragmatist. Similarly, pragmatists may be idealists or materialists, nominalists or realists, monists or pluralists, and so on. If pragmatism is only a method, the instrumental method of deciding truth, then any stance on any issue in philosophy is pragmatic just so long as it measures the truth of its propositions instrumentally. And those who know James and Dewey know that this is opposed by them to establishing the truth intellectually, i.e. by appeal to a priori absolutes or fixed first principles.6 From this instrumentalism in truth C.S. Peirce dissents. That is one reason why he renames his own version of pragmatism “pragmaticism.” Peirce is not a pragmatist about truth but a pragmatist about meaning. But he does not abandon the idea that pragmatism is a method only or that the method of pragmatism is instrumentalism. It is just that with him instrumentalism applies to meaning. The meaning of a predicate, he says, is the way you go about testing whether or not a subject bears that predicate. His celebrated example is that you know the meaning of ‘hard’ when you know what sensible effects would be produced if you were to rub a hard thing against other things.7 Thus, meaning is identified with a rule of verification expressed as a contrary-tofact conditional. This is instrumentalism in meaning because it consists in taking means to an end. And as far back as Aristotle, means taken to an end is identified with the useful or instrumental. Meaning is fundamentally a test and the test is a means to the end of making our ideas clear. Just as in James the truth of a belief consists in its being a means to our ends, so in Peirce the meaning of a predicate consists in the means by which we show that predicate’s sensible effects. Any means that satisfies us, i.e. that seems to realize our practical goals, says James, is true And the means we use to verify whether something has a property, says Peirce, is what is meant by that property. As we know that a statement is true when we know that it is useful to our ends to believe it, so we know the meaning of an abstract predicate when we find a rule of verification that is useful to tracing that predicate’s sensible effects. Instrumentalism, whether in truth or in meaning, confines purpose to human doings and makings. Any end is necessarily our end and the means is something devised and chosen by us. Contemporary pragmatists have different agendas and techniques than their predecessors. Yet they share James’ view that pragmatism is a method and not a doctrine. They still believe that pragmatism is more a way of doing philosophy than a philosophy, more an approach to issues than a stance taken on issues. It is crossing categories to say that answers to the body-mind issue include epiphenomenalism, identity materialism and pragmatism. And the

Ethics

219

same goes for other issues. Pragmatism is still considered an approach to or attitude in philosophy rather than a type of philosophy. This instrumentalism opposes the idea of natural purpose in philosophers like Aristotle and Aquinas. The latter hold that purpose characterizes reality itself and not just how we deal or cope with either reality or appearance. So if Aristotle and Aquinas are right, then James and his followers are wrong in thinking that purpose is confined to method. This issue about the ontological status of purpose occasions two questions. First (1), why did pragmatic purpose replace natural purpose? And second (2), which one is true? As for (1), the remote cause of the change from the old to the new teleology is traced to Kant’s “Copernican revolution.” With that came skepticism about God and divine purpose. With that too came skepticism about the world and natural purpose. Whether or not reality in itself is characterized by purpose no one can say. The only kind of purpose we know about is human purpose, not divine or natural purpose. More proximately, the cause of the change is traced to two things. The first is the idea of natural selection. Under this idea, changes and features in living things which were hitherto ascribed to purpose are instead ascribed mechanistically in terms of chance mutations. This is too familiar as to require comment. The second is the inclusion of human purpose in the hitherto metaphysical ideas of meaning and truth. So far from being in and issuing from Absolute Mind, meaning and truth are made by our minds. This antiHegelianism on the matter of meaning and truth is the pragmatic revolution of Peirce, James, and Dewey. Behind it is the application of the scientific method into the formerly metaphysical arena of meaning and truth. With Peirce meaning comes down to a rule of verification. If you want to know the meaning of an abstract predicate you do such and such in order to see if you get such and such sensible results. Since this requires testability and testability involves human purpose, it follows that meaning involves human purpose. With James and Dewey it is truth that comes down to verification. When lost in a wood you try what looks like an old cow path in order to see if it leads anywhere. If it seems to do so then the hypothesis that it is the way out for the first time becomes true.8 It is made to be true or to have “warranted assertibility” by the very testing of it. To the extent that it here consists in verifying, truth is instrumentally or humanistically purposive. It is no surprise, then, that nineteenth and twentieth century philosophy buried with a vengeance the old teleology and took up the new. If truth and meaning both require human purpose because they include testability and if, since Kant, human purpose is the only purpose we know about, then how is the old teleology of Aristotle and Aquinas either relevant or possible? In other words, the temptation is to answer (2) above in favor of ideal teleology. Real

220

Chapter Six

teleology, following this line of thought, is just that kind of naive teleology one might expect to find before Galileo and the rise of modern science. By analogy, it is to the new teleology what Kant said his own philosophy was to pre-critical dogmatism. History aside, let us turn to (2). In this connection, imagine a philosophy in which purpose characterizes reality itself as opposed to how we construe, manage, or organize reality. In it, purpose is fundamental, just as it is in pragmatism. But to the extent that purpose here characterizes reality itself, this philosophy is far from being pragmatism, be it James,’ Dewey’s, Lewis,’ Quine’s, or Rorty’s. But neither is it pre-Kantian rationalism or empiricism. Descartes followed Galileo in banishing purpose from nature. Skeptical of knowledge-claims about the external world, empiricists acquiesced in its departure. And to this day it, especially in the wake of the theory of natural selection, it remains ostracized. So the philosophy of which I speak swims against not just American pragmatism but the whole current of modern philosophy. Be that as it may, I shall not here repeat the argument for natural ends which was developed in chapter one. There, it will be recalled, the phenomenon of binary fission in paramecia was cited as requiring natural purpose.9 Instead, I here proffer arguments for final causes based on i) the comparison of ethics with other practical sciences and ii) the nature of virtue.

THE NATURAL HUMAN END In chapter one, final causes were construed as forms or patterns to which events or actions are oriented as means. The model of a skiff in my mind is that for the sake of which I make cuts in wood. Likewise, the mature form of paramecium in m elicits binary fission the end of which is the replication of that same form in the new paramecium, p. In each case, some form in an agent is aimed at via some operation or activity in that same agent. Thus the form of the skiff in my mind has itself as end through and by means of my building. Similarly, the form of paramecium in m has itself as end through and by means of its reproductive changes. In each case the end pre-exists in the agent and in each case events or changes which take place in that agent are means to that ends. I build for the sake of the skiff and the reproductive changes in m occur for the sake of m’s form. However, operations are not always means to some pre-existing form as end. They are themselves sometimes ends. This happens when agents are considered not as active but as having the capacity for activity. That is because activity completes or fulfills a thing’s basic capacity and that is what is meant

Ethics

221

by a final cause. Thus, the end of a carpenter as having the capacity of building is building and the end of a physician as having the capacity of healing is healing. By contrast, when an agent is taken not as having the capacity for but as being engaged in some activity, then the agent’s end is a form to which that activity is oriented. Thus, the end of a carpenter as building is a house and the end of a paramecium as reproducing is the form of paramecium as reproduced in another individual. Given that ends can be activities that fulfill potentialities in addition to being forms to which activities are inclined, one can ask what the end of persons is as persons as opposed to carpenters, physicians, etc.10 The answer is that it is that very activity which is the distinctive activity of persons, just as building and healing are the distinctive activities of carpenters and physicians, respectively. Yet the question presupposes that persons do have an end as persons. However, this perhaps is not evident and must be shown. Moreover, a well-known Aristotelian defense of this thesis is suspect. It is that a person has an end because each and every part of a person has an end.11 Since eyes, ears, nose, heart, etc. each one has its own end, it cannot be denied, says he, that a person as a whole has an end. Otherwise nature has given the parts an end but not the whole. But that would be unjust and unfitting since the parts exist only for the sake of the whole.12 But since nature does not do what is unjust and unfitting, it follows that persons have an end just as persons. Opponents of this deny Aristotle’s premise that each and every part of a person has an end. Though eyes, ears, heart, etc. might conceivably be construed as having ends, how is it plausible to say that the appendix, beard, or eyebrows have an end? And if they do not, then the argument is like saying that a cake is excellent because some but not all of its ingredients are excellent. Moreover, even if it is true that each and every part of a person has an end, it does not follow that the person as a whole has an end. Otherwise, because each and every element in a cake is excellent it follows that the cake itself is excellent. Therefore, even if it is true that each and every part of a person has an end, how does this argument avoid committing the error of composition in concluding from this true premise that persons themselves have ends? Aristotle might have replied that the objection thrives on a false analogy. True, from the fact that some of its parts are excellent, it cannot be inferred that the cake itself is excellent. But that is only because the ingredients of the cake exist independently of the cake. Flour, salt, etc. exist and are what they are independently of the cake of which they are part. By contrast, no part of a person exists or is what it is without the person whose part it is. Persons, unlike cakes or loaves of bread, are organic and not aggregate wholes. Such wholes explain and are not explained by their parts. You cannot define what

222

Chapter Six

a human eye, ear, heart, etc. is without including in the definition the idea of a person. Moreover, these parts cannot exist as parts without a person any more than a branch of a tree exists or is what it is apart from the tree. But these parts are not necessarily included in the concept of a person. On the other hand, no mere aggregate part includes the aggregate in its concept. It is and is what it is independently of that aggregate. No pebble in a pile includes in its definition the pile of which it is a member. Relying on this difference, Aristotle might answer that any part of a whole has an end only because the whole itself has an end. For any part of a whole takes on and follows the life and character of the whole. A branch takes on and reflects the life and character of the tree. This in contrast with an aggregate which is nothing over and above the sum of its parts. But that means that in the case of wholes, the nature of the whole can be gleaned from the nature of the part. From a diseased branch one infers a diseased tree. Because in the order of being wholes determine their parts, the character of wholes can in the order of knowing be inferred from the character of their parts. As you know a tree by its fruit, so do you know a whole by its parts. Still, even granting the difference between organic wholes on the one hand and piles or heaps on the other, and even interpreting the whole-to-part relation in Aristotle’s argument as a relation of an organic whole to its parts, his argument still fails. Even in the case of organic wholes, one wrongly infers that what is true of each part of the whole is true of the whole. Otherwise it follows that I weigh under forty pounds because each one of my bodily parts does. Apart from all of this, though, a more convincing Augustinian argument for natural purpose turns on our judgments about defections or privations. St. Augustine observes that to say that blindness is a defect of the eye and that deafness is a defect of the ear implies that it is the very nature of the eye to see and of the ear to hear.13 Otherwise, when we say that eyes see and ears hear, what we say about them is accidental or incidental to their natures, like being brown or being large. And then, instead of it being the case that blindness is a flaw or privation in eyes as eyes and that deafness is a flaw or lack in ears as ears, blindness and deafness are flaws in eyes and ears taken in some incidental or accidental sense. And that is patently false. Blindness is a flaw or privation in eyes as eyes and not in eyes as brown, large, etc., and deafness is a flaw or privation in ears as ears and not in ears as large, pointed, etc. That being the case, since defective eyes and ears are opposed to good ones and good has the nature of an end, it follows that if eyes and ears are defective because they lack sight and hearing, then having sight and hearing is the natural good and hence the natural end of eyes and ears taken just as eyes and ears. Thus do judgments about defects or privations in natural parts imply that those parts have their very own natural ends or functions.

Ethics

223

But besides judging that parts of persons are defective, we also say that persons themselves are defective. We say that something was gravely missing in Hitler and Attila the Hun. By the previous logic, then, to say that acting irrationally is a privation in persons implies that it belongs to persons to act rationally. Otherwise when we say that persons act rationally what we say about them is accidental to their natures, like being white or tall. And then, acting against reason is a flaw not in persons as such but in persons taken in some incidental capacity. And that is false. So if defective persons are opposed to good ones and once again good has the nature of an end, it follows that if persons are defective because they act irrationally, then acting rationally is the good and hence the end of persons as persons. It follows that just as judgments about defective parts of persons imply that those parts have ends, so too do judgments about defective persons imply that persons as persons have an end. But the end of an agent as having a distinctive capacity is that activity that fulfills that capacity, as the end of carpenters is building. Further, the special activity of a thing comes from its difference and a person’s difference is being rational. It follows that the end of a person as person is rational activity. Finally, despite appearing to be a non-sequitur, the inference in question from “persons in incidental capacities have ends” to “persons as persons have an end” is sound. For the conclusion follows by the rule of genus. Under this rule, what belongs to a genus belongs to its species. Ethics is a practical science as is medicine, carpentry, shipbuilding, and so on. So by the rule of genus, what belongs to the latter just as practical sciences also belongs to ethics. Now agents in medicine, carpentry, shipbuilding, etc. all have a special activity in those sciences, just insofar as they are practical sciences. Carpenters have a special activity as practitioners in carpentry, namely building. And so is it with all productive practical science. That is because the end of practical science is action and not knowledge. Under the rule of genus, therefore, agents in ethics, just insofar as they are practitioners in ethics, have a specialized activity. As was stated, however, the activity of an agent in any practical science is the end of that agent in that science. That is because these activities fulfill the ability in those agents to build, to heal, etc. and the fulfillment of an ability by its corresponding act is the end and good of that ability or capacity.14 It follows that the special activity of ethical agents is identified with the end of those same agents. But it is acting well as persons and not as physicians, carpenters, etc. that ethical agents have as their special activity. That is why ethics might be called the first practical science. For the ideas of physician, carpenter, etc. include the idea of a person but not vice versa. That means that the science that deals with activities of persons as persons precedes any science that deals with

224

Chapter Six

the activities of persons in incidental capacities. As ethical as opposed to medical, legal, or governmental agents, etc., they do not have as their special operation acting well in healing, law, public service, etc. Therefore, ethical agents have as their end acting well as persons. Hence, persons have an end as persons which is the same as the end of a person as practitioner in ethics. But the distinct or special activity of a thing comes from its difference and it is evident that rationality is the difference in persons. Consequently, the end of persons taken as persons is rational activity. Thus, 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9.

Ethics is a practical science. Agents in any practical science have a special activity in those sciences. That activity is their end. Agents in ethics have acting well as persons as their special activity. So agents in ethics, i.e. persons as persons, have acting well as person as their end. Therefore, persons as persons have a natural end. The distinctive activity of a thing comes from its difference. But rationality is the difference in persons. Therefore, persons as persons have an end and that end is rational activity.

THE CASE OF VIRTUE Finally, natural purpose is implied not just by the relation between ethics and other practical sciences. It is also implied by virtue. To see this, take a child who sees a saw for the first time and asks what the saw is for. Suppose she also sees a pile of planks in a boatyard and asks what the planks are for. These questions are answered in terms of two different kinds of means. The saw is a purely instrumental means but the planks are not. The saw is not part of the end for which it is used. It remains external to the wood it is used to cut. But the planks are part of the end for which they exist. They do not remain external to the skiff after they are used to make it but become part of it. The saw and the planks are evidently means to some end. Both are for something beyond themselves. It is just that in the second case but not in the first the means become part of the end. Mill, to answer the objection that utilitarianism reduces virtue to an expediency, to a mere means, invokes this same distinction. Virtue is no external device by which happiness is reached, says he. It is a means to the end of happiness that is also an integral part of happiness.15 Yet real as opposed to pragmatic purpose is more than this. It is purpose in which things are means apart from our making them so. And right here the analogy of the planks ceases. To see this, look again at Mill’s account of

Ethics

225

virtue. It owes much to Aristotle. True, virtue is part of happiness and not just an external tool by which happiness is reached. It is both constitutive of and a means to the end of happiness just as planks are both constitutive of and a means to a skiff. And yet, virtue is not internal to happiness the way planks are internal to the skiff. Having no inner tendency to become parts of a skiff, the planks might just as well have become parts of a shed. Something external to the planks is therefore required to push them toward a skiff. That something is us. But no outside force is needed to push the virtues toward happiness. They deliver up the end automatically. They have, as it were, a nose for happiness. That is because, says Aristotle, virtues are habits and habits by definition are oriented to their respective acts.16 But it is just in these virtuous acts or in virtuous living that happiness consists. The point is that because virtue naturally and not forcibly becomes part of the end, it follows that virtue is, in the view of Aristotle, no mere instrumental means. Virtue’s being a means to and part of the end is not something that is conferred on it by us. It is something it has in its own right. It is real and not mind-dependent means. While virtue is for happiness as the planks are for the skiff, virtue is by definition for happiness while the planks are not by definition for the skiff. It is we who decide that the planks are for the skiff. But virtue is for happiness whether we say so or not. That is why virtue is real and the planks instrumental means to their respective ends. Sharing with pragmatism the idea of the centrality of purpose, this assay of virtue breaks with pragmatism in denying that all means and ends are made by us. To spell it out further, consider the virtue of courage. If the habit of courage has acting courageously as its natural end then it is arbitrary to deny that all the other virtues have their own corresponding acts as their natural ends. And from this it follows that real as over against pragmatic teleology looms large in ethics or at least in what is nowadays called virtue ethics. All depends, then, on whether it can be said that acts of courage are in fact real ends. Suppose, though, that they are not real ends. Then acts of courage are either not ends at all, or else, like the skiff with respect to the planks, they are human-made ends. This is to say that acts of courage are ends because we say they are and not vice versa. But neither alternative is possible. If on the one hand acts of courage are not ends at all then they are evidently not the real or human-made ends of courage. But then either something else is the end of courage or courage is not to begin with a habit or natural bent. But in this subordinate dilemma neither alternative is possible. Nothing else is the end of the habit of courage but courageous action. Habits by definition are directed to actions that exemplify the habit. Nothing else is the end of the habit of grammar but grammatical speaking and nothing else is the end of the habit of courtesy but courteous acts. And if courage is not to begin with a habit or bent,

226

Chapter Six

then no account is given of the fact that persons with courage are naturally prone to act courageously. But if on the other hand acts of courage are humanmade ends only then so too is courage or that of which they are the ends. Human ends have human means. Courage, then, would on this option be to courageous acts what planks are to a skiff. It would be instrumental means only. But then courage would no more be a natural bent to acting courageously than planks would have a natural bent to become a skiff. And then once again it follows, counter-intuitively, that no person with courage is naturally inclined to act courageously any more than planks are naturally inclined to make a skiff. So it follows that acts of courage are the real ends of courage. By extension, therefore, real acts of any and all the virtues, be they intellectual or moral, are the real ends of those virtues. But then, a fortiori, there are real means and real ends in the world independently of human invention.

REASON IN ETHICS On the strength of these arguments, then, let it be granted that persons have a natural end which is identified with rational activity. Suppose too that since happiness is our final end, it can be said that happiness consists in rational activity. Then the question is, is it in any kind of rational activity that happiness consists? When ‘rational activity’ is taken in the broad sense to mean any kind of thinking, then Aristotle and Aquinas answer negatively. Otherwise, since even bad reasoning is a kind of rational activity in this sense, happiness or the highest good includes reasoning badly. But end is the same as good since the end of anything perfects it. So this rational activity or happiness consists not just in any rational activity but in good or excellent rational activity. But virtuous activity consists just in this. If the rational activity in question is rational in itself, then its excellent or virtuous functioning is thinking well. But if it concerns activity that is rational by participation, then its excellent or virtuous functioning is acting well. The virtues in speculative thinking are understanding, science, and wisdom.17 These aid and perfect the intellect’s search for truth. By the first, ultimate principles are grasped in judgments. By the second, true conclusions are deduced from these principles in reasoning. By the third, ultimate causes in the sciences are apprehended especially in the first science of metaphysics. However, ethics concerns only how we ought to act and not how we ought to think. So it is the moral virtues with which ethics is concerned. The latter include the regulation of appetite by reason. They exemplify excellent functioning in action and not thought and include temper-

Ethics

227

ance, courage, and justice.18 These perfect the will and not the intellect. Here virtue is making right choices or choices that accord with reason. What is meant by this is evident from examining excellent choices in the specialized practical sciences. What are these choices and why are they excellent or “virtuous?”

MORAL VIRTUE: RIGHT REASON AS MEAN To answer, the choices and actions of physicians, shipbuilders, carpenters, etc. are made right choices and actions when they skirt both excess and defect. It is because they strike this mean that these actions accord with reason. Successful physicians gear the kind and dosage of medication to the age and condition of patients. It must be neither too much nor too little, too strong nor too weak. Skilled shipbuilders choose just the right kind and condition of wood. And they trim or bend boards to the right angle, neither too obtuse nor too acute. Good dentists drill teeth neither too much nor too little and at correct angles. Successful carpenters fit doors into frames neither too tightly nor too loosely. Experienced lawyers question witnesses with enough boldness to bring out the facts but not with so much boldness as to badger them. So it is in all other specialized sciences. This know-how in striking the mean or middle is just what is meant by action that follows reason. So too is it the case in ethics. For all secondary practical sciences include the principle of the first practical science which is ethics. And that principle is acting in accord with reason. As mathematics and the philosophy of nature include the principles of metaphysics but not vice versa, so do the specialized practical sciences include this central idea of ethics but again not vice versa. That is why ethics is the first practical science just as and for the same reason that metaphysics is first speculative science. To the extent that persons act rationally as persons they are virtuous persons. To the extent that they act according to reason in medicine, carpentry, etc., they are “virtuous” physicians, carpenters, etc. For the idea of acting according to reason in medicine, carpentry, etc. includes the idea of acting according to reason but not vice versa. Moreover, the idea of a physician, carpenter, etc. includes the idea of a person but again not vice versa. Therefore, all the specialized practical sciences logically depend on ethics as the composite depends on the simple. Hence, though in the order of knowing the principle of the golden mean in the specialized practical sciences cues us that the same principle holds in ethics, still, in the order of logic, that same principle holds in those specialized science because it holds in ethics. For physicians, carpenters, etc. are persons; but persons are not necessarily physicians or carpenters, etc. To the extent that persons as persons habitually aim at

228

Chapter Six

and hit the mean in their choices and actions in everyday life they are virtuous persons. The difference is that in ethics the action that is a mean between excess and defect is not a means to some product or state that is external to the agent. It is an end in itself and not merely a means to a further end. For ethics aims just at acting well as persons and not at health, ships, houses, good teeth, winning cases, or any other extrinsic product. Consider temperance, courage and justice. In each case the virtue in question consists in being prone to choose a rational mean between irrational extremes. Temperate persons steer the passions between profligacy and insensitivity. Courageous persons guide the irascible appetite between rashness and cowardice. And just persons follow reason in shunning either excess or defect in dealing with others. Distributive justice gets between extravagance and insufficiency in bestowing rewards and between harshness and softness in punishment. It gives persons their due, neither more nor less. And commutative justice strikes the mean of fairness. As was implied, virtue is not only the perfection of a power. It is also the habit of functioning well in a rational power. And the habit perfects that power. By contrast, all non-rational, physical powers are directly determined by nature to act only in one way. They therefore need no mediating habit to bend their functions in the right direction.19 The power of sight is automatically oriented to seeing. It does not require a habit to make it see well instead of poorly. It is not made to function well or virtuously only by a habit that stands between it and its activity. It just naturally operates well. The same goes for all other bodily powers. If the genus of virtue is habit and there are no habits in powers that are exercised only in one way, then there are no virtues in these powers. But the rational powers can be exercised in more than one way.20 The intellect can reason either correctly or incorrectly, and the will can choose rightly or wrongly. They therefore need a habit which, acting as mediator, bends them in the right direction. As the function of reasoning is linked to conclusions via first principles, so too are rational powers linked to their characteristic activities via habits. The habit which inclines a rational power to act correctly is virtue, while the habit which bends the same power to act incorrectly is vice. Thus, virtues are good habits and vices are bad habits. If, then, (i) virtue is a habit, (ii) habits are only in those powers that can be exercised in more than one way, and (iii) the latter are only the rational powers, then it follows that virtue strictly speaking is only in persons.

VIRTUE AND WILL The subject of virtue can be further specified. The rational power to which habits and hence virtues primarily belong is the will. Habits might give us a

Ethics

229

mere aptness for a good work. And then they are virtues in a relative sense. In this sense of ‘habit’ artisans who have the ability to produce a good work have the good habit or “virtue” of art. In this same sense of having the ability to produce a good work, those who know how to reason well have the virtue of science. But habits may give us not only the ability to make a good work but also the tendency to actuate that ability. Craftspersons who have the ability to produce a good work might spitefully make a bad work. They then have a virtue in the first, loose sense of the term but not in the second, strict sense. Physicians who can produce health might deliberately undermine health. Once again, they can be said to be virtuous in the loose sense but not in the strict sense. Even though such persons have virtue in an extended sense, they lack virtue in the primary sense. For they lack the good use of their ability.21 They are good craftspersons or physicians, etc. but not good persons. To make a good work actually and not just have the ability to do so requires rectitude in the will. Moral virtues like justice, temperance and courage that actually make a person prone to act justly, temperately and courageously in addition to conferring the ability to act in these ways.22 That is why they are virtues in the absolute sense. One reason for this is that a thing is not said to be good unless it is actual as over against potential. For good by definition is end and end is the full actuation of potentiality. Therefore, it is by having a habit in this second sense—in the sense of the good use of ability—that persons are said absolutely to do good and to be good.23 Such habits are therefore virtues in the absolute sense. But it is the will that moves the other powers to act. Therefore, since having a habit of doing or being good in this second sense depends on the will’s command, habits and hence virtues in this same sense reside only in the will.24 Alternatively, the idea of a habit (and hence of virtue) implies a relation to our nature. For habits are either suitable or unsuitable to our nature. But a thing’s nature, which is its end, is further ordained to another end. This is an operation of some kind. Therefore, it is essential to habit, and hence to virtue, to have a relation to an operation or act.25 But all the rational powers are moved to their operations or acts by a command of the will. It follows that virtue is primarily in the will. Finally, since habits that confer a mere aptness for a good work (such as the “virtues” of art and science) concern the potential while those that confer the good use of that ability concern the actual, the latter are better than the former. For as always in Aquinas good is actuality as over against potentiality. It follows that it is in having a habit in the latter sense that a person is properly said to do and to be good. Therefore, virtues that are habits in this same sense are virtues strictly so called. For virtue is what makes us and our work to be actually good.26 It is that which one uses if one wills.27 But the good use of an ability depends on the will. For it is the will that moves all the

230

Chapter Six

other rational powers to their acts.28 It follows once again that virtues strictly speaking reside either in the will or in the intellect as in some way moved by the will.29 Aquinas joins Aristotle in denying that virtue is either a power or a passion.30 Persons act out of anger, fear or pity and these are passive emotions. So passion is a source of action. But we are called good according to virtues and not according as we are angry, fearful, or have pity. So virtue is not a passion. Alternatively, persons are not called bad because they are angry or fearful; they are so called because these emotions are uncalled for or had to a degree that is inappropriate. Also, we are praised for virtue and blamed for vice. But we are neither praised nor blamed for anger, fear or pity, etc. We are blamed not because we are angry or fearful but because our anger or fear, or the degree of them, is unfitting given the circumstances. Therefore, it is the presence or absence of reason that makes these passions praiseworthy or blameworthy. Moreover virtue is preceded by deliberation and hence by choice. Prior to acting virtuously we deliberate as to the course of action that will strike the mean at which virtuous action aims. Our actions are thus means to an end. But this implies choice since all choice is of means. Moreover, all choice for Aquinas is free since it involves deliberative reason which implies the ability to prefer either this or that. Therefore acting virtuously is the good use of free choice.31 Since choice is of the means and not of the end, virtue concerns choosing the right means to the end. So for Aquinas prudence is involved in all the virtues since it is defined as the habit of taking the right means to a good end. This is what is meant by the unity of the moral virtues. Besides passions, powers too are sources of action. By our power of deliberative reason we take means to ends. However, virtues are not powers. We are called good and we are praised because of our virtues. But we are not called good or praised because we have the power of taking means to ends or even because we have the power of being virtuous. Besides, powers are in us by nature but not so virtues and vices. Therefore it can be said that virtue is no more a power than it is a passion. By process of elimination, then, it follows that virtue is a habit. And a habit is defined as as a disposition whereby that which is disposed is disposed either well or ill to its nature or operation.32 As was said, Aquinas holds that the idea of a habit implies a relation to the nature of the subject of the habit. Any habit is either suitable or unsuitable to that nature, i.e. either a good or a bad habit. A good habit is one that disposes us to act suitably to our nature while a bad habit is one that disposes us to act unsuitably to our nature.33 And since we have a rational nature, good habits dispose us to act in conformity to reason while bad habits do not. But since a thing’s nature is ordained to some distinctive operation, habit implies a rela-

Ethics

231

tion to a subject’s operation as well as to its nature. For operation is the end of some nature as, for instance, thinking is the end of a rational nature.34 Thus Aquinas shares Aristotle’s view that every nature has its own distinct operation which is its end or good. Moreover, a good habit perfects the power of which it is the habit as act perfects potentiality. But a good habit or virtue, is itself perfected by the operation or action to which it is prone. That is because habits are for the sake of actions and the end of anything is its good, fulfillment or perfection.35 Action perfects habit as habit perfects power. Thus does habit stand between power and act, specifying the former but being specified by the latter. The ability of rational powers and only these to be determined in more than one way implies freedom. Thus persons are free just because they are rational according to Aquinas. The price of reason and the freedom that is consequent upon it is that the free power requires a habit if it is to be exercised in the right way, i.e. in a way that is suitable to the nature from which the power issues. As was said, neither non-living things nor brutes need habits to steer their powers in the right direction. The powers of inanimate things and brutes automatically exercise themselves correctly or in ways that accord with their natures. Freedom or indifference to several options is therefore a condition of a power’s having a habit (and hence a virtue) and the power of reason is a necessary and sufficient condition of freedom. Having the power of reason is thus a necessary and sufficient condition of having a habit. ‘Habit,’ ‘reason’ and ‘freedom’ thus seem to be equivalent notions in the ethics of Aquinas. Habits imply powers that can be exercised in more than one way and vice versa. For a habit is just that by which we are well or ill disposed to our operation or end. Powers that can be exercised in more than one way imply freedom and vice versa. Finally, being rational implies having a power that can be exercised in more than one way and vice versa. As habits, intellectual virtues and moral virtues are sources of intellectual and moral activities, respectively. Like any habit, virtue is made and strengthened by the very actions it causes. We are trained to say “please” and “thank you,” to hold doors for others, to greet and treat guests hospitably, and so on. After repetition, the habit of doing them is formed.36 Then the same actions that caused the habits are the effects of them. Actions are in the strict sense virtuous for Aquinas only when they come from virtuous habits. In that case they are not only actions that accord with virtue but they are also actions that are done out of virtue i.e. actions that issue from a virtuous disposition. Actions that accord with virtue but which are done out of imitation (as for example, with children) and not out of a habit of virtue are hardly called virtuous. Yet performing actions that accord with virtue even though they are not done out of virtue is important. Without actions that imitate virtuous action

232

Chapter Six

even though there is no habit of virtue behind them, there would be no true virtuous action. For then the habit of virtue would not have been established. Aquinas specifies three conditions of virtuous action. Persons who act virtuously must not act in ignorance or by chance but should know what they are about. Further, the virtuous action must not be done out of passion as when someone acts virtuously out of fear. Nor can the virtuous act be done for the sake of something else, i.e. for the sake of money or praise. It must instead be done for itself. Finally, the virtuous act must issue from a fixed proneness to choose virtuously so that the person is not moved by something external.37 To sum it up, virtue, end, happiness and reason come together in the ethics of Aquinas in the following way. A thing is naturally prone to activity that accords with its form. Since activity follows form, it might be called a thing’s “second form” whereas the form itself might be called a thing’s “first form.” In any case, the form of a person being rational, each person is inclined by nature to act rationally or according to reason, be it rational activity in itself or rational activity by participation. This is virtuous activity, either intellectual or moral. But since the natural end or good of a thing is exactly that to which it is naturally inclined, it follows that the end or good of persons consists in rational activity. But to act according to reason is to act virtuously. For virtue is nothing else but a habit in the rational powers which inclines those powers, intellect and will, to activities that conform to our nature as rational agents. Each person, then, is naturally inclined to act virtuously. That is our calling. But to the natural law belongs those things to which a person is by nature inclined. Therefore, virtuous acts are prescribed by what Aquinas calls the natural law. To the extent, then, that one acts contrary to right reason either by excess or by defect, one fails to act virtuously. Instead, one acts against one’s own happiness and contrary to one’s nature or essence as a rational being. Accordingly, in Aquinas’s natural law ethics the idea of good is fundamental since end has the nature of good in his view. It is even behind the notions of “ought” and “right.” This is shown by analogies. Suppose that A is using a saw and says that it is not doing what it ought to do. When B asks why, A responds that it is not accomplishing its purpose as a saw. Here, ‘ought’ is defined in terms of end. Again, we say of physicians whose treatment of a patient makes her worse off that they are not doing what they ought to do. When asked why, we reply that their actions flout their end as physicians which is to heal. Now as it is with the operations of saws and physicians, so is it with the actions of persons. For suppose that persons are not doing what they ought to do or not acting how they ought to act. If asked why, Aquinas would answer that their actions fly in the face of their very own natural end as persons.

Ethics

233

A DILEMMA AND AQUINAS’S SOLUTION The foregoing summary of Aquinas’s ethics shows his indebtedness to Aristotle. But Aristotelian and hence Thomistic ethics seems to be susceptible of the charge of intellectualism. This error falsely identifies the best persons with the best thinkers. If (i) the ethical end is happiness, (ii) the latter is excellent rational activity, and (iii) acting includes thinking but not vice versa, then excellent rational activity consists primarily in excellent thinking and not in excellent acting. It is identified with what rational in itself and not with what is participatively rational. But then the ethical end of happiness is identified with intellectual virtue. And then the problem is that Aristotle succumbs to intellectualism, which is identifying good persons with those who think well instead of with those who act well. To answer this, Aristotle might identify happiness with excellent rational action instead of with excellent rational activity. Then the summum bonum becomes moral virtue and not intellectual virtue. And with this the objection is disarmed. Yet this reply only substitutes practicalism for intellectualism. If happiness is a kind of acting and not in a kind of thinking and is also the natural end of persons, then acting and not thinking is the end and good of persons. In this way, therefore, thought, which figures in action, subserves the final end of action. However, this instrumentalism opposes Aristotle’s own elevation of thought over action, of what is rational in itself to what is only participatively rational. Since rational action includes rationality, the latter is simpler than the former. And the simple, for Aristotle, logically precedes the composite which is explained in terms of it. Moreover, thought directs action and what directs is prior and superior to what it directs, at least in the view of Aristotle. So to answer the charge of intellectualism, Aristotle could not fall back on this practicalist alternative. Even so, it seems that Aristotle bypasses this fork of either intellectualism or practicalism when he seemingly identifies the human end with both thinking well and acting well and not just with one of them. Thus, Now this [part has two parts, which have reason in different ways], one as obeying reason [in the other part], the other as itself having reason and thinking [We intend both.]38

And further, We have found, then, that the human function is the soul’s activity that expresses reason [as itself having reason] or requires reason [as obeying reason].39

234

Chapter Six

Assuming, then that the human end is both reason and action in accord with reason, it follows that the extremes of intellectualism and practicalism are bypassed. Good persons are those who both think rationally and act rationally and not ones who do the one but not the other. With this Aquinas largely, but not entirely, agrees. For Aquinas identifies the final end of persons with the Beatific Vision. And in this he evidently departs from and goes beyond Aristotle. But it would be a mistake to think either that Aquinas simply adds a totally new and different end onto the natural end of Aristotle, i.e. thinking and acting well in this life, or that he abandons the latter as end. The first views Aquinas as simply tacking on something to Aristotle just to satisfy Christian beliefs. The second sees Aquinas as denying outright Aristotle’s identification of the human end with thinking and acting well in this life. The fact of the matter is that Aquinas gets between these two extremes and strikes a synthesis. This mix of Aristotle and Christianity is neither Aristotelian nor Augustinian ethics. It is uniquely Thomistic. It consists in making one element in the natural end, namely, acting well in this life, a necessary means to the last end, the Vision, and in identifying the Vision itself with the apex of the other element in the natural end, i.e. thinking well. By this Aquinas skirts the dilemma of either intellectualism or practicalism in a different way than does Aristotle. Neither philosopher could countenance either reducing good persons to good thinkers or subordinating thought to action. For in the view of both philosophers the former precedes, because it is included in, the latter. Aquinas concurs that the natural human end is intellectual and moral virtue. But though it is end, this natural human end is not the last end as it is in Aristotle. This Aquinas reserves for a type of intellectual virtue alone. But this fails to imply that the best thinkers in the world are the best persons in the world just because the intellectual virtue with which Aquinas identifies the final end is not to begin with in the world. For it consists in the Beatific Vision in the next world. Therefore, Aristotle and Aquinas both agree and differ. Both say that it is moral virtue that is the end of ethics. But they differ as to the final end of persons. For Aristotle the final human end is thinking and acting well in this life. But for Aquinas it consists in what he considers to be the apex of human thought. And this occurs only in the next life. This is the Beatific Vision. Since intellectual virtue figures in both, these ends overlap though not straightforwardly so. For there is in his view no comparison between the Beatific Vision and the earthly intellectual virtues of understanding, science, wisdom and prudence.

Ethics

235

Aquinas would hold that the Beatific Vision can be shown to be our last end by the following. The activity proper to a thing is that thing’s perfection. For any activity is to the form from which it issues as the actual is to the potential. In addition, actuality is the good or perfection of potentiality. So things which engage in their respective proper activities are to that extent fit and good. But the proper activity of anything is its end. Hence, when things perform their distinctive activities most excellently, they are most perfect and have reached their last end. But understanding is our distinctive or special activity since our differentia is being rational. Therefore, understanding most excellently is our last end and perfection. But one understands best and in the highest way when one grasps or is acquainted with the most intelligible object. That is because immanent operations such as understanding and willing take their perfection from their objects. But God who is the ultimate cause of all being is the highest intelligible object. It follows that our last end or perfection is acquaintance with God. But our last end or perfection is evidently happiness. It follows that knowing God in the Vision is that in which our ultimate happiness consists. So it is that by making the Beatific Vision our last end as opposed to some earthly intellectual act or accomplishment, Aquinas avoids intellectualism without either succumbing to practicalism or abandoning the priority of thought to action. When it concerns intellectual virtue, therefore, Aquinas forges a synthesis of Aristotle and Christianity. He also does this as regards moral virtue. The latter is a mean between excessive and defective feeling and action. But to this Aristotelian idea of the “golden mean” he once again gives a Christian twist. Aquinas denies that moral virtue is an end without being a means to a further end. Though it is end in itself and not solely a means or purely instrumental, moral virtue is nonetheless means to the Beatific Vision which is our final and complete end. Accordingly and ironically, when it concerns our summum bonum Aquinas espouses ethical intellectualism after all. But it is ethical intellectualism of a different color. It does not consist in subordinating moral virtue to intellectual virtue on earth but in subordinating the former to intellectual virtue in heaven. For since the Beatific Vision is knowing and not acting, it is intellectual and not moral virtue. It is also perfect intellectual virtue since the object known in the Vision is not just cause but the highest cause, not just act but the highest act. Just because this same Vision is the final end of moral virtue, it is higher than the latter. So, while the Vision, the highest of all intellectual experiences, depends on moral virtue for its cause, moral virtue in turn depends on the Vision for its concept. For any means includes the idea of the end in its concept.

236

Chapter Six

NOTES 1. G. E. Moore, Ethics (London: Williams and Norgate,1912), 122–124. 2. ———, Ethics, 63. 3. Brand Blanchard, “The New Subjectivism in Ethics.” Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 9 (1949): 507–08. 4. William James, “What Pragmatism Means” in Essays in Pragmatism, ed. A. Castell (New York: Hafner, 1964), 146. 5. ———, “What Pragmatism Means,” 146, 155. See also ———, “Pragmatism’s Conception of Truth” in Essays in Pragmatism, 162. 6. ———, “What Pragmatism Means” in Essays in Pragmatism,146. 7. C.S.Peirce, “How To Make Our Ideas Clear,” in Pragmatic Philosophy, ed. A. Rorty (Garden City: NY, Doubleday, 1966), 15–16. 8. William James, “Pragmatism’s Conception of Truth” in Essays in Pragmatism,161–162. 9. See Chapter One, 16ff. 10. The following paragraphs use arguments which also appear in my “Is There Natural Purpose?” See International Philosophical Quarterly, June, 2008. 11. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics in R. McKeon, ed. The Basic Works of Aristotle (New York: Random House, 1941), (1097b, l. 23ff), 941–2. 12. Aquinas, Commentary on the Nicomachean Ethics, trans. C.I. Litzinger (Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1964) I. L.X: C121, 53. 13. St. Augustine, The City of God in Baird and Kaufmann, ed. Medieval Philosophy (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 2003), 126. 14. Aquinas, Summa Theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas (New York: The Modern Library, 1948), I q5 a1, reply obj.1, 35. 15. J.S. Mill, Utilitarianism ed. George Sher (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2001) ch. IV, 37–8. 16. Aristotle, Metaphysics 1022b 10–12; see also, Aquinas, Summa contra gentiles, in Pegis, ed. Introduction to Saint Thomas Aquinas Book III ch. XLVIII, 465. 17. Aquinas, Summa theologica I-II q57 a2, 568–69. 18. ———, Summa theologica I-II q61 a1–2, 587–89. 19. ———, Summa theologica I-II q49 a4, 545–46. See also I-II q55 a1, 561–62. 20. ———, Summa theologica I-II q55 a1, 561 21. ———, Summa theologica I-II q57 a3 and 4, 571–74. See also ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, trans. Basic Writings of Saint Thomas Aquinas (New York: Random House, 1945), vol. 2 I-II q56, a3, 421–23. 22. ———, Summa theologica in Pegis, trans. Basic Writings vol.2 I-II q56 a3,421–23. 23. ———, Summa theologica I-II q56 a3, 421–23. 24. ———, Summa theologica I-II q56, a3, 421–23. 25. ———, Summa theologica I-II q49 a3, 371–72. 26. ———, Summa theologica I-II q56, a3, 421–23. 27. ———, Summa theologica I-II q50, a5, 382–83. See also I-II q49 a3, 371–72. 28. ———, Summa theologica I-II q56, a3, 421–23.

Ethics

237

29. ———, Summa theologica I-II q56 a3, 421–23. 30. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 1105b 19—1106a 12. 31. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, in Pegis, trans., Basic Writings vol.2 I-II q55 a1 reply obj. 2, 413. 32. ———, Summa theologica, I-II q49 a1, 366–67. 33. ———, Summa theologica, I-II q54 a3, 409–10. 34. ———, Summa theologica, I-II q49 a3, 371–72; I-II q50 a2, 377–78. 35. ———, Summa contra gentiles, in Pegis, trans., Basic Writings vol.2. Book III, ch. XLVIII, 84–5. 36. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. II. L.IV:C 285, 131. 37. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. II. L.IV:C 283, 130. 38. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, trans. T. Irwin (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1985), 1098a 3–8, 16. 39. ———, Nicomachean Ethics, trans. T. Irwin 1098a 5–10, 17.

Select Bibliography

Anderson, J.F., ed.and trans., An Introduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas. Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1953. Aristotle, Metaphysics. in The Basic Works of Aristotle. Ed. Richard McKeon. New York: Random House,1941. ———. Nicomachean Ethics. Trans. Terence Irwin. Indianapolis: Hackett, 1985. ———. Physics. In The Basic Works of Aristotle, Ed. Richard McKeon. NewYork: Random House, 1941. Baird and Kaufmann, eds., Medieval Philosophy. Upper Saddle River, N.J: Prentice Hall, 2003. Bergson, Henri, An Introduction to Metaphysics. Trans. T. E. Hulme. Indianapolis: Bobbs Merrill, 1955. Castel, A., ed. Essays in Pragmatism. New York: Hafner, 1964. Chen, T., ed., Research in Protozoology. New York: Pergammon Press, 1969. Craig, William Lane, and J.P. Moreland, eds. Naturalism: A Critical Analysis. New York: Routledge, 2000. Flew, Anthony, ed., Essays in Conceptual Analysis. London: MacMillan, 1963. Foster and Humphries, trans., Aristotle’s De Anima with the Commentary of St. Thomas Aquinas. New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1965. Gall, J.G., ed., The Molecular Biology of Ciliated Protozoa. Orlando, Fla: The Academic Press, 1986. Geach, Peter, Truth and Hope. Notre Dame: Univ. of Notre Dame Press, 2001. Hume, David, A Treatise of Human Nature, Ed. L.A. Selby-Bigge. Oxford: Oxford Univ. Press, 1967. Jowett, B., trans., The Dialogues of Plato. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1953. Kant, Immanuel, Critique of Pure Reason. Trans. Norman Kemp Smith. London: MacMillan, 1958. Kenny, Anthony, Aquinas on Mind. London: Routledge, 1993. Lynch, Michael P., ed. The Nature of Truth: Classic and Contemporary Perspectives. Cambridge: MIT Press [Bradford], 2001. 239

240

Selected Bibliography

Maritain, Jacques, Philosophy of Nature. New York: Philosophical Library, 1951. McInerny, Ralph, Aquinas. Malden: Polity Press, 2004. Mill, J.S., Utilitarianism. Ed.George Sher. Indianapolis: Hackett, 2000. Miller, Barry, The Fullness of Being. Notre Dame, IN: Univ. of Notre Dame Press, 2002. Moore, G.E., Ethics. London: Williams and Norgate, 1912. Pasnau, Robert and Christopher Shields, The Philosophy of Aquinas. Boulder: Westview Press, 2004. Pegis, Anton, ed. and trans., Basic Writings of Saint Thomas Aquinas. New York: Random House, 1945. ———, ed. and trans., Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas. New York: The Modern Library, 1948. Pozzo, Riccardo, ed. The Impact of Aristotelianism on Modern Philosophy. Washington, D.C. The Catholic Univ. of America Press, 2004. Quine, W.V., Philosophy of Logic. Englewood Cliffs, N.J: Prentice Hall, 1970. Rorty, A., ed., Pragmatic Philosophy. Garden City, N.J.: Doubleday, 1966. Royce, J. The Religious Aspect of Philosophy. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1885. Russell, Bertrand, The Problems of Philosophy. London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1970. St. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics. Trans. Blackwell, Spath, and Thirlkel. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1963. ———. Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle. Trans. John P. Rowan. Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1961. ———. Commentary on the Nicomachean Ethics. Trans. C.I. Litzinger. Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1964. ———. On Being and Essence. Trans. A. Maurer. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies, 1949. Toulmin, Stephen. Return to Reason. Cambridge: Harvard Univ. Press, 2001. Veatch, Henry B., Intentional Logic. New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1952. ———. Rational Man. Bloomington, IN: Indiana Univ. Press, 1962. Wild, John, Introduction to Realistic Philosophy. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1948. Wittgenstein, L. Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. Trans. Pears and McGuiness. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1961.

Index

abstraction, 151–52 appetite, 170–75; and form, 171–72, 173–75; natural vs. elicited, 173 Aristotle: and arguments for a human end, 221–22; on cause, 10–15; on change, 4–5; on final cause, 13–14; objections to Platonic forms, 73–80; on substance, 5–10 beatific vision, 234–35 being: actual and potential, 4–5, 37; caused by God, 60–63; degrees of, 58–60; divisions of, 37–43; negative and privative, 38–39; propositional, 38; science of, 31–34; senses of, 58–60 belief, 163–65 Bergson, H., 2 Boethius, 83, 86n2 causal reciprocity, 15–19, 21 change, 1–5; causes of, 10–16; and creation, 2–3; dilemma of, 3–5; substrate of, 5–8 choice, 178; freedom of, 176–80, 180–86, 191–93, 231; object of, 189–93 concepts, 157, 161; closed and open, 101–5

demiurge, 69 determinism, 194–95 Descartes, xi, 3, 132 Dewey, John, 15, 217–18 divine Ideas, 63–73; 128–29 essence, 34–35, 44–45; distinct from existence, 48–49 ethical intellectualism, 233–34; vs. practicalism, 233–34 ethical mean, 227–28 evil, 38, 155 exemplarism, 70–71 existence, 34–35, 43, 45, 47–48, 57; as end, 85 existential import, 46 existentialism, xvi, 195 final cause, 13–29; Aristotle’s arguments for, 13–15; as cause of causes, 21; as mind-dependent, 15–16, 25–29; in nature, 16–19; reciprocity with efficient cause, 19, 21; as self-contradictory, 19–20 flux: opposed to change, 1–2; philosophy of, 1–2 form, 55–58; in change, 10–19; as end, 13–19; Platonic concept of, 73–80 241

242

Index

genus, 7–8; rule of, 223 good, x, 82–86, 195–201, 217–24; contrasted with truth, 83; fundamental to Aquinas’s ethics, 232; and mathematics, 83–84; similarity to truth, 82–83 Hegel, 54,121; criticisms of, xii–xiv, 123–24 immanent activity, 148; vs. transient activity, 48–50 intellect, 137, 141, 144, 147, 150, 153; and abstraction, 151–52; active and passive power of, 150–51; as holding a middle place, 144; as limited, 152–53; neither substance nor act of the brain, 141–42; and the order of knowledge; relation to will, 175–80, 187–201 intentionality, 135–36; of truth predicate, 169–70 James, William, 15, 217–18 judgment, 157, 99–101; as bearer of truth, 163–65; and existence, 100; as terminating counsel, 176; and truth, 157–59

moral skepticism, 216–17 moral subjectivism, 208–10 objective falsehoods, 166–67 Parmenides, 3–4 participation, 64–65, 69–71, 129–30; two kinds of, 43 Peirce, C.S., 218 Plato, 34, 43, 64–66, 69, 73–80, 117, 134, 141, 207 Plotinus, 90 practical reason, 190 practical syllogism, 190 psychologism, 46–47, 162–63 Quine, W.V., 169 reason, 98–99, 190, 191; in ethics, 226 right reason, 227–28 Royce, J., 94 Russell, B., 54, 93; and coherence theory, 130n13

law, 27–29; natural, x, 232 Leibniz, xv Locke, John, 9 logical positivism, 210–13

Sartre, J. P., 163 simple apprehension, 99 soul, 132–33; Aquinas’s difference with Aristotle, 145–46; consistency of Aquinas’s view of, 131; immateriality of, 135–43; Platonic view of, 134–35; power vs. essence of, 143–45; powers of, 146–48 St. Augustine, xii, xiv, 90,128, 152, 234; and the human end, 222–23 substrate, 5–6

matter, 9, 55; and genus, 67–68; and infinite regress, 5–6; as ingenerable and incorruptible, 10; primary, 6–8 metaphysics, 31–32; as behind ethics, x–xi; as first science, ix–x; objections to, 31, 211–12; and speculative sciences, 32–34 Moore, G. E., xiii, 208 moral relativism, 207–8

teleology. See final cause transcendental turn, 52 truth: bearer of, 97–99; categories of, 107-11; coherence theory of, 122–24; correspondence theory of, 122–24; as the good of mind, 95–97, 105–6; knowledge of, 95–97; ontological and practical, 106–7; and predication, 101–5; prior to

Kant, xii, 47–48, 51–53, 62, 121–22

Index

goodness, 84; senses of, 109–10; and simple apprehension, 92–93; strictly in judgment, 94–95 universals: Aquinas’s view of, 124–30; and conceptualism, 120–24; definitions of views on, 115–16; and nominalism, 118–20; and Platonic realism, 117–18

243

virtue, 224–226, 227–32 will: and choice, 177–80, 180–86; as intellectual appetite, 170–75; necessity in, 180–86, 189–202; reciprocity with intellect, 187–88; relation to intellect, 175–80 Wittgenstein, L, 68