Author: Bill Vallicella

Aquinas Meets Frege: Analysis of an Argument from De Ente et Essentia

The other day I expressed my reservations as to the coherence of the Thomistic notion of a common nature.  Let's plunge a little deeper by considering the argument from Chapter 3 of Thomas Aquinas, On Being and Essence (tr. Robert T. Miller, emphasis added):

The nature, however, or the essence thus understood can be considered in two ways.
First, we can consider it according to its proper notion, and this is to consider it absolutely. In this way, nothing is true of the essence except what pertains to it absolutely: thus everything else that may be attributed to it will be attributed falsely. For example, to man, in that which he is a man, pertains animal and rational and the other things that fall in his definition; white or black or whatever else of this kind that is not in the notion of humanity does not pertain to man in that which he is a man. Hence, if it is asked whether this nature, considered in this way, can be said to be one or many, we should concede neither alternative, for both are beyond the concept of humanity, and either may befall the conception of man. If plurality were in the concept of this nature, it could never be one, but nevertheless it is one as it exists in Socrates. Similarly, if unity were in the notion of this nature, then it would be one and the same in Socrates and Plato, and it could not be made many in the many individuals. Second, we can also consider the existence the essence has in this thing or in that: in this way something can be predicated of the essence accidentally by reason of what the essence is in, as when we say that man is white because Socrates is white,
although this does not pertain to man in that which he is a man.

The argument may be set forth as follows:

1. A nature can be considered absolutely or according to the being it has in this or that individual.

2. If a nature is considered absolutely, then it is not one.  For if oneness were included in the nature of humanity, e.g., then humanity could not exist in many human beings.

3. If a nature is considered absolutely, then it is not many. For if manyness were included in the nature of humanity, e.g., then humanity could not exist in one man, say, Socrates.

Therefore

4. If a nature is considered absolutely, then it is neither one nor many, neither singular nor plural.

I find this argument intriguing because I find it extremely hard to evaluate, and because I find the conclusion to be highly counterintuitive.  It seems to me obvious that a nature or essence such as humanity is one, not many, and therefore not neither one nor many!

The following is clear.  There are many instances of humanity, many human beings.  Therefore, there can be many such instances. It follows that there is nothing in the nature of humanity to preclude there being many such instances.  But there is also nothing in the nature of humanity to require that there be many instances of humanity, or even one instance.  We can express this by saying that the nature humanity neither requires nor precludes its being instantiated. It allows but does not entail instantiation.  This nature, considered absolutely, logically allows multiple instantiation, single instantiation, and no instantiation.  It logically allows that there be many men, just one man, or no men.

That much is crystal clear.  But surely it does not follow that the nature humanity is neither one nor
many.  What Aquinas is doing above is confusing what Frege calls a mark (Merkmal) of a concept with a property (Eigenschaft)  of a concept.  (See Foundations of Arithmetic, sec. 53, first publ. 1884)  The marks of a concept are the subconcepts which are included within it.  Thus man has animal and rational as marks.  But these are not properties (Eigenschaften) of the concept man since no concept is an animal or is rational.  Being instantiated is an example of a property of man, a property that cannot be a mark of man.   If being instantiated were a mark of man, then the concept man could not fail to be instantiated.  In general, the marks of a concept are not properties thereof, and vice versa. 

A couple more examples.  Three-sided is a mark of the concept triangle, but is is not a property of this concept for the simple reason that no concept is three-sided. Male is a mark of the concept bachelor, but not a property of it since no concept is male.

Aquinas has an insight which can be expressed in Fregean jargon as follows.  Being singly instantiated — one in reality –  and being multiply instantiated — many in reality — are not marks (Merkmale) of the nature humanity.  But because he (along with everyone else prior to 1884) confuses marks with properties (Eigenschaften), he concludes that the nature itself cannot be either one or many.  But surely the nature itself is one, nor many.  That is consistent with holding that the nature admits of single instantiation, multiple instantiation, or no instantiation.

To put it another way, Aquinas confuses the 'is' of predication ('Socrates is a man') with the 'is' of subordination ('Man is an animal').  Man is predicable of Socrates, but animal is not predicable of man, pace Aristotle, Categories 3b5: no concept or nature is an animal.  Socrates falls under man; Animal falls within man.  Falling-under and falling-within are different relations.  Animal is superordinate to man while man is subordinate to animal. But that is not to say that animal is predicable of man.  Both animal and man are predicable of Socrates, which is to say: Socrates falls under both concepts.  But man does not fall under animal, animal falls within man.  If man fell under animal, then the concept man would be an animal, which is absurd.

For these reasons I do not find the argument from De Ente et Essentia compelling.  It is based on confusions that the great logician Gottlob Frege was the first to sort out. But perhaps there is a good Thomist response.

Does Government Create Jobs?

In their last presidential debate, President Obama strangely agreed with Governor Romney when the latter said that "Government does not create jobs."

But of course government does create jobs.  There are all sorts of government jobs.  That perfectly obvious point was underscored in a recent NYT op-ed piece.  So both the president and the governor were wrong to claim that government does not create jobs.

But, as one would expect, the NYT piece missed the real point, which is what the governor had in mind but did not clearly state, namely, that government does not create economically productive jobs.

Where does the money come from to pay government workers?  From taxes and loans.  Such money is not available for consumption.  The economy expands, and jobs are created, when people buy things.  The point is made well by Robert Samuelson in Flat-Earth Economics.

So if the Obama Administration claims that it has created x jobs, ask yourself: what sort of jobs?  The ones that count, the ones that will have a real effect on expanding the economy, are not government jobs.  Private sector jobs are what we need and these are precisely the ones that government cannot create.

So if you have any sense, you will vote for Romney-Ryan.

Forty Years Ago Today

My journal  entry for 29 October 1972 was just this: "To live a philosophical life in a tumultuous, uncertain world is my goal."

I pulled it off.  I found my niche.  I achieved my goal.   But to achieve goals one must first posit them, and herein lies another reason to maintain a journal.  One plans and projects.  And then, years later, one enjoys the fruition of those long past projections. 

What is Reason? How Did it Arise? Nagel and Non-Intentional Teleology

This is the sixth in a series of posts, collected here, on Thomas Nagel's Mind and Cosmos (Oxford 2012).  In my last post I suggested that Nagel needs a principle of plenitude in order to explain the actual existence, as opposed to the mere possibility, of rational organisms.  But maybe not, maybe teleology will turn the trick for him.  So we need to see what he says about teleology.

Nagel distinguishes "constitutive" from "historical" questions.  What is reason? is an example of the former; How did reason arise? of the latter.  Now one might wonder whether reason is the sort of thing that could arise.  I am tempted to say that reason could no more arise than truth could arise, but then I'm a theist.  Nagel, however,  must hold that reason arises given his monism. As a monist, he maintains that there is exactly one world, this natural world.

Off the top of my head, I suggest we have at least six options concerning the nature and origin of reason.

A. Interventionist Theism.  Reason didn't arise, but always existed.  God is its prime instance and source.  Reason in us did not arise or emerge from irrational or pre-rational elements but was implanted by God in us.  It is part of what makes us of  higher origin, an image and likeness of God.

B. Noninterventionist Deism.  Reason didn't arise, but always existed.  God is its prime instance and source.  But God did not infuse or implant reason in certain animals at any point in the evolutionary process; what he did is rig up the world in such a way that rational animals would eventually emerge.  Nagel mentions something like this possibility on p. 95.

C. Transcendental Subjectivism.  Reason didn't arise, but neither is God its prime instance and source. Reaon is an a priori structure of our subjectivity, a transcendental presupposition without which we cannot carry out our cognitive operations.   A view like this could be read out of Kant.  A transcendental idealism as opposed to the Hegelian objective idealism that Nagel supports.  (17) 

D. Reason is a fluke.  Reason arose, but it was a cosmic accident.  That there are rational beings is simply a brute fact.  Nagel rightly rejects this view.

E. Materialist evolutionary naturalism operating by "directionless physical law." (p. 91)

F. Nature-immanent non-intentional teleology.

Nagel rejects all of these options except the last.  Unfortunately, Nagel's proposal is so sketchy it is  hard to evaluate.  To get a handle on it we need to study Nagel's final chapter on value in a separate post.  According to natural teleology, the world has an in-built propensity to give rise to beings for whom there is a difference between what is good for them and what is bad for them.  There is no agent who intends that such beings should arise; there is just this tendency toward them in nature below the level of mind.  And so the explanation of the existence of such beings is not merely causal but teleological: there is is a sort of axiological requiredness in rerum natura that pulls as it were from the future these beings into existence. (See p. 121)  This is my way of putting it.

Socrates

Paul Brunton, Notebooks, vol. 4, part 1, p. 40, #286:

When Socrates thought and talked, he walked about; but when the transcendental experience struck him, holding him enraptured and thought-free, he remained rigidly still, standing where it caught him.  No probing questions then engaged him, no arguments with his friends then interested him.

The dialectic is dropped when the experience it subserves arrives.

The Halloween Dance

Wife went, I didn't.  She goes every year, I beg off every year.  Angel that she is, she doesn't begrudge me my nonattendance.  I'd rather think and trance than drink and dance.

Why?  Well, we know that drinking and dancing won't get us anywhere.  But it is at least possible that thinking and trancing will.

Gyula Klima on Thomistic Common Natures: Some Questions

In his SEP article, The Medieval Problem of Universals, Gyula Klima offers the following explanation of the Thomistic doctrine of common natures:

So, a common nature or essence according to its absolute consideration abstracts from all existence, both in the singulars and in the mind. Yet, and this is the important point, it is the same nature that informs both the singulars that have this nature and the minds conceiving of them in terms of this nature. To be sure, this sameness is not numerical sameness, and thus it does not yield numerically one nature. On the contrary, it is the sameness of several, numerically distinct realizations of the same information-content, just like the sameness of a book in its several copies. Just as there is no such a thing as a universal book over and above the singular copies of the same book, so there is no such a thing as a universal nature existing over and above the singular things of the same nature; still, just as it is true to say that the singular copies are the copies of the same book, so it is true to say that these singulars are of the same nature.

I am struggling to understand this.  Consider the common nature humanity. When we consider it in itself, or absolutely, we abstract from its existence in material singulars (Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, . . .) and from its existence in minds.  When we consider it absolutely we thus consider it in abstraction from esse, whether esse naturale or esse intentionale.  So considered, the common nature has no mode of esse or existence.  Having no mode of existence, the common nature does not exist.  This prompts my first question:

Q1. How can an item have no being or existence at all?  (I am using 'being' and 'existence' interchangeably.)  Would it not then be nothing?  But it is not nothing; it is the very common nature that it is, one distinct from other common natures.   What we have here, as it seems to me, is an anticipation of Meinong's doctrine of Aussersein, with the problems that the latter brings in  its train.  But having invoked Meinong I now send him back to his jungle; my present concern is merely to understand Aquinas.  There is this item, humanity, which, absolutely considered, has no being, but is nonethless a definite mind-independent item.  Mind-independent yet beingless.  Do you not find this puzzling?

I am not suggesting that there is a narrowly-logical (purely formal) contradiction in There is an item that has no being.  Some will  be tempted to mount that objection since the italicized sentence certainly does smack  of formal-logical contradiction: There is an x such that x is not.  But the formal-logical contradiction seems to dissipate if we put it like this: Some item is beingless, where 'some' has no existential or ontological import whatsoever.  The latter italicized sentence is not formally self-contradictory. Its form is Some F is G which admits of true substitution-instances. 

So I see no formal-logical contradiction in the doctrine of common natures any more than I see a formal-logical contradiction in Meinong's doctrine of Aussersein.  My point is not formal-logical but metaphysical.  I just don't understand how something can be mind-independent without having any being at all.

Note also that this item — humanity as common nature or natura absoluta — is neither particular nor universal.  It would be particular if it existed with esse naturale in singulars; it would be universal if it existed with esse intentionale in a mind.  But in itself, considered absolutely, it exists in neither way and is therefore  neither particular nor universal.  This prompts my second question:

Q2.  How can a nature be common and yet not in some sense universal?  There is this item which we are considering in abstraction from its material existence in singulars and from its immaterial existence in minds.  It seems that what we must say  that it is universal, not particular. After all, it is common.  How can an item be common to many (to many material singulars and to many acts of thinking) without being universal?

These are not rhetorical questions.  I really don't understand the doctrine.  (Some people have the unpleasant habit of accusing one of posing rhetorical questions when one genuinely asks questions.  Isn't that what philosophers mainly do, ask questions?)

What's more, common natures are neither one nor many.  In De Ente et Essentia, Thomas gives an argument for this claim, an argument I examine and reject in a separate post.   At the moment I am concerned with the intelligibility of the claim, not its justification.  I want to understand the claim, but so far I am finding it unintelligible.  Hence my third question:

Q3.  How can a common nature be neither one nor many?  Must it not be one item to be common?

Klima offers an analogy.  It is a commonplace that there can be many copies of the same book.  Each copy is a material singular.  And of course 'same book' does not refer to a material singular over and above the many copies.  And yet the same information-content is expressed in each (uncorrupted) copy and is understood by each mind that reads (with comprehension) a copy.  A common nature, then, is like the information-content of a book. 

Unfortunately, this analogy does not help me.  It seems obvious to me that the information-content is one, not neither one nor many. 

To sum up.  A common nature, considered absolutely,  is neither one nor many, neither universal nor particular.  Considered absolutely, it exists neither in singulars nor in minds.  What's more, this absolute consideration, this consideration of it as it is in itself, does not make of it an abstractum that depends on a mind for its existence.  And so it has some sort of mind-independent status along with its matter-independent status.  Having neither esse naturale nor esse inentionale, it has no being at all.  Having no being at all, we can say that common natures are ausserseiend in Meinong's sense, jenseits von Sein und Nichtsein, "beyond being and nonbeing."  Each of these items is a pure Sosein with no Sein.

Is this a coherent conception?  I can't see that it is. But I don't claim to have refuted it.  For my misgivings rest on an assumption that, while it  seems intuitively obvious to me,  I would be hard-pressed to justify in a non-circular way,, namely, that whatever has mind-independent status must have some mode of being or other.

Your First Time: Obama Ad Hits New Low

Here.  How low can the Dems go?  And you thought Clinton was a sleazeball for answering the question about his underwear and telling us about his old El Camino with the astroturf in back for, you know . . . .

Time to elect some adults.  Enough of clowns and buffoons.  (Did you see Biden in the VP debate?)  Give gravitas a chance.

Mark Steyn:

Both videos – the one faking Obamagasm and the one faking a Benghazi pretext – exemplify the wretched shrinkage that befalls those unable to conceive of anything except in the most self-servingly political terms. Both, in different ways, exemplify why Obama and Biden are unfit for office. One video testifies to a horrible murderous lie at the heart of a head of state's most solemn responsibility, the other to the glib shallow narcissism of a pop-culture presidency, right down to the numbing relentless peer-pressure: C'mon, all the cool kids are doing it; why be the last holdout?

If voting for Obama is like the first time you have sex, it's very difficult to lose your virginity twice. A flailing, pitiful campaign has now adopted Queen Victoria's supposed wedding advice to her daughter: "Lie back and think of England." Lie back and think of America. And then get up and get dressed. Who wants to sleep twice with a $16 trillion broke loser?

Left, Right, and Debt

A reader writes, " I enjoy your philosophical and theological views, but unfortunately disagree with your political and economic views.  I recommend large doses of Paul Krugman, beginning with Nobody Understands Debt. "

I got a kick out of that because I should think that the febrile Krugman  is absolutely the last person to convince me of anything.  I tend to see him as living proof that the Nobel Prize, except perhaps in the hard sciences, is a meaningless accolade bestowed by the politically correct upon their own.   I consider the man a fool on the level of Nancy Pelosi, Harry Reid, and Joe Biden.

The column cited is one I read when it first appeared.  Now, thanks to the reader,  I have an opportunity to comment on it.  But first we need to back up a step for a wide-angle view.  Why is the national debt such a big deal to conservatives, but of relatively little concern to leftists?  Dennis Prager provides a cogent answer in his new book, Still the Best Hope (Broadside 2012, p. 29, emphasis in original):

The Left's great fight is with material inequality, not with evil as normally understood.  Thus, the Left has always been less interested in fighting tyranny than in fighting inequality.  That is why Leftist dictators — from Lenin to Mao to Pol Pot to Ho Chi Minh to Fidel Castro and Hugo Chavez — have had so much support from Leftists around the world . . . .

This explains the Left's relative disinterest in creating wealth.  The enormous and unsustainable debts facing the individual American states and the United States as a country from 2009 on have disturbed the American Right far more than the American Left [. . .] The reason is that the Left is not nearly as interested in creating wealth as it is in erasing inequality.

Prager's explanation fits Krugman well.  The latter thinks that the focus on deficit and debt reduction is "misplaced."  I disagree vehemently.  Not only is this a very serious matter if we want to survive as a nation, but also one on which we all ought to agree.  Left and Right will never agree about abortion, capital punishment, gun control,  and a host of other issues, but one would think that when "money talks, ideology walks." Unfortunately our leftist pals will hold to their ideology even unto fiscal doom.

Krugman's 'argument,' if you want to call it that, consists in an attack on an analogy between individual and government debt:


Deficit-worriers portray a future in which we’re impoverished by the need to pay back money we’ve been borrowing. They see America as being like a family that took out too large a mortgage, and will have a hard time making the monthly payments.       

This is, however, a really bad analogy in at least two ways.

Krugman's first reason is that families have to pay off their mortgages, but governments don't have to pay back what they borrow.  First of all, it is false that mortgage holders have to pay back their loans.  One can easily structure a mortgage in such a way that it is held indefinitely and passed on to heirs.  One pays interest month by month without reducing the principal.  There are also negative amortization loans in which the borrower digs his hole deeper month by month.

Ready for Krugman's second reason?  It's a real winner: "Second — and this is the point almost nobody seems to get — an over-borrowed family owes money to someone else; U.S. debt is, to a large extent, money we owe to ourselves."

That's bullshit, which is presumably why nobody gets it except him of the simian countenance. It makes no clear sense to say that the debt  is money we owe ourselves.  So each of us owes a portion of the debt to every other one of us? 

Suppose I decide to invest in treasuries, T-bills, say.  I buy 10 at $10,000 a pop.  What I have done  is loaned the government  $100 K.  In return I get two things; a safe haven for my money and a bit of interest.  There is probably no safer place to park your cash since it is, as they say, "backed up by the full faith and credit of the U. S. government," a phrase that means rather less than it used to, but still means something.

It is the government that owes me the money I lent it.  The government, which is not to be confused with the citizenry.  Furthermore it owes these debts only to those who loaned the government money by buying T-bills and T-bonds and such.  It is simply not the case that we owe that money to ourselves.  The government owes it to some of us.  Only some of us get a return on that investment, and only some of us help the government out by loaning it money.

Now the interest paid by the government to foreign and domestic bond holders is money that is pissed away and can't be used for constructive purposes.  The analogy with the homeowner is apt: money one spends on mortgage interest can't be used for constructive purposes.  The truly foolish home buyer overextends himself and ends up losing his house to foreclosure.  The U. S. does not of course face foreclosure, but it faces something analogously dire: turning into Greece — or California.

The homeowner analogy is pretty good.

No analogy is perfect, of course.  A perfect analogy would be an identity, and you can't compare a thing to itself –except vacuously.

Krugman is a hate-America leftist whose fetishization of material equality blinds him to obvious realities.

Sufficiently Deficient

This world is sufficiently deficient  in reality, intelligibility, beauty, and goodness to keep one from the error of taking it as ultimate.  But it also exhibits enough of these features to keep one from the opposite errors of nihilism and illusionism and to point us beyond it to its Source.

Psychotropic Drugs, Veridicality, Criteria

It is gratifying to know that I am getting through to some people as is evidenced by the fact that they recall my old posts; and also that I am helping them think critically as is evidenced by the fact that they test my different posts on  a given topic for mutual consistency.  This from a Pakistani reader:

Continue reading “Psychotropic Drugs, Veridicality, Criteria”

Is Heaven Real? A Neurosurgeon’s Near-Death Experience

Excerpt:

There is no scientific explanation for the fact that while my body lay in coma, my mind—my conscious, inner self—was alive and well. While the neurons of my cortex were stunned to complete inactivity by the bacteria that had attacked them, my brain-free consciousness journeyed to another, larger dimension of the universe: a dimension I’d never dreamed existed and which the old, pre-coma me would have been more than happy to explain was a simple impossibility.

But that dimension—in rough outline, the same one described by countless subjects of near-death experiences and other mystical states—is there. It exists, and what I saw and learned there has placed me quite literally in a new world: a world where we are much more than our brains and bodies, and where death is not the end of consciousness but rather a chapter in a vast, and incalculably positive, journey.

Two questions arise.  Were Dr. Eben Alexander's experiences while in the coma state veridical?  This question must be asked since the mere having of an experience is no guarantee of the reality of its object.  The second question is whether the experiences, veridical or not, occurred wholly independently of brain functioning.  The two questions are connected.  If it could be shown that the experiences were generated by a minimally (mal)functioning brain, then then this would be  a reason to doubt the veridicality of the experiences.  (Analogy: if I know that my unusual experiences are the result of the ingesting of LSD-25, then I have reason to doubt the veridicality of the experiences.)  The author deals with these connected worries in the following passage:

All the chief arguments against near-death experiences suggest that these experiences are the results of minimal, transient, or partial malfunctioning of the cortex. My near-death experience, however, took place not while my cortex was malfunctioning, but while it was simply off. This is clear from the severity and duration of my meningitis, and from the global cortical involvement documented by CT scans and neurological examinations. According to current medical understanding of the brain and mind, there is absolutely no way that I could have experienced even a dim and limited consciousness during my time in the coma, much less the hyper-vivid and completely coherent odyssey I underwent.

Although I reject materialism about the mind and consider it reasonable to believe that conscious experiences do not require a physical substratum, and that it is possible to have such experiences in a disembodied state, I don't think the the author has proven that the possibility was actual in his case.  For how does he know that his cortex was "simply off"? Failure to detect the functioning of the cortex does not entail that the cortex was not functioning.  It might have been functioning below the detectability of the instruments and might have been generating the experiences all along.

A second concern of mine is this.  How does Dr Alexander know that his wonderful experiences didn't suddenly arise just as the cortex was coming back into action  just before his eyes popped open?  So even if his cortex was for a long time completely nonfunctional, the experience he remembers could have been simply a dream that arose while the cortex was coming back 'on line.'

My point is not the the doctor has not given us evidence that mental functioning occurs in the absence of brain activity; I believe he has.  My point is that the evidence is not compelling.

Our predicament in this life is such that we cannot prove such things as that God exists, that life has meaning, that the will is free, that morality is not an illusion, and that we survive our bodily deaths.  But we cannot prove the opposites either.  It is reasonable to maintain each of these views.  Many arguments and considerations can be adduced.  Among the evidence is a wide range of religious, mystical and paranormsl experiences including near-death and out-of-body experiences.  The cumulative case is impressive but not conclusive.  It rationalizes, but does not establish.  Philosophers. of course, are ever in quest of 'knock-down' arguments.  This is because you are no philosopher if you don't crave certainty.  Ohne Gewissheit kann ich eben  nicht leben! Husserl once exclaimed.  But so far no 'knock-down' arguments have been found.

In the final analysis, lacking proof one way or the other,  you must decide what you will believe and how you will live. 

I would add that the 'living' is more important than the 'believing.'  It is far better to live in a manner to deserve immortality than to hold beliefs and give arguments about the matter.

Whittaker Chambers on Beethoven

Whittaker Chambers (Witness, p. 19) on the Third Movement of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony:

. . . that music was the moment at which Beethoven finally passed beyond the suffering of his life on earth and reached for the hand of God, as God reaches for the hand of Adam in Michaelangelo's vison of the creation.

Well, either the adagio movement of the 9th or the late piano sonatas, in particular, Opus 109, Opus 110, and Opus 111. To my ear, those late compositions are unsurpassed in depth and beauty.

In these and a few other compositions of the great composers we achieve a glimpse of what music is capable of.  Just as one will never appreciate the possibilities of genuine philosophy by reading hacks such as Ayn Rand or positivist philistines (philosophistines?) such as David Stove, one will never appreciate the possibilities of great music and its power of speaking to what is deepest in us if one listens only to contemporary popular music.