Divine Simplicity – Maverick Philosopher

The Concept of Standoff in Philosophy

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A second example:

3. God by his very nature as divine is a concrete being who exists of metaphysical necessity.

4. Nothing concrete could exist of metaphysical necessity.

By ‘concrete’ I mean causally active/passive. The God in question is not a causally inert abstract object like a number or a set-theoretical set. Clearly, (3) and (4) form a contradictory pair and so cannot both be true. And yet one can argue plausibly for each.

This is not the place for detailed arguments, but in support of (3) there are the standard Anselmian considerations. God is ens perfectissimum; nothing perfect could be modally contingent; ergo, etc. God is “that than which no greater can be conceived”; if God were a merely contingent being, then a greater could be conceived; ergo, etc.

In support of (4), there is the difficulty of understanding how any concrete individual could exist necessarily. For such a being, possibility suffices for actuality: if God is possible, then he is actual. But this possibility is not mere possibility; it is the possibility of an actual being. (God is at no time or in any possible world merely possible, if he is possible at all.) The divine possibility — if it is a possibility at all and not an impossibility — is a possibility that is fully actualized. Possibility and actuality in God are one and the same in reality even though they remain notionally distinct for us. (In classical jargon, God is pure act, actus purus.) Equivalently, essence and existence in God are one and the same in reality even if they must remain notionally distinct for our discursive/dianoetic intellects. It is God’s nature to exist. God is an existing essence in virtue of his very essence. God’s existence is in no way subsequent to his essence, not temporally, of course, but also not logically or ontologically. So it is not quite right to say, as many do, that God’s nature entails his existence; God’s nature is his existence, and his existence is his nature.

If you think this through very carefully, you will realize that the ground of the divine necessity is the divine simplicity. It is because God is an ontologically simple being that he is a necessary being. If you deny that God is simple but affirm that he is necessary, then I will challenge you to state what makes him necessary as opposed to impossible. If you say that God is necessary in virtue of existing in all possible worlds, then I will point out that that gets us nowhere: it is simply an extensional way of saying that God is necessary. You have also faied to distinguish God from such ‘garden variety’ necessary beings as numbers and sets.

Divine simplicity implies no real distinctions in God, and thus no real distinction between essence and existence. It is the identity of essence and existence in God that is the root, source, ground of the divine necessity. The problem is that we, with our discursive intellects, cannot understand how this could be. Anything we conceive as existent, we can also conceive as nonexistent. (Hume) The discursive intellect cannot grasp the possibility of a simple being, and so it cannot grasp the possibility of a necessary concretum. Here then we have the makings of an argument that, in reality, every concretum is contingent, which is equivalent to the negation of (4).

So if one philosopher urges (3) and his interlocutor (4), and neither can convince the other, then the two are in a standoff.

Now you may quibble with my examples, but there are fifty more I could give (and you hope I won’t).

Is God a being among beings or Being Itself? An Exchange with Dale Tuggy

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One morning, just as Old Sol was peeping his ancient head over the magnificent and mysterious Superstition range, I embarked on a drive down old Arizona 79, past Florence, to a hash house near Oracle Junction where I had the pleasure of another nice long three and one half hour caffeine-fueled discussion with Dale Tuggy. For me, he is a perfect interlocutor: Dale is a serious truth-seeker, no mere academic gamesman, analytically sharp, historically well-informed, and personable. He also satisfies a necessary though not sufficient condition of fruitful dialog: he and I differ on some key points, but our differences play out over a wide field of agreement.

I incline toward the view that God is not a being among beings, but Being itself. Dale rejects this view as incoherent. In this entry I will take some steps toward clarifying the issues that divide us. I will conclude in good old Platonic fashion, aporetically.

Thomas Aquinas: Unity is Our Strength!

Summa Contra Gentiles, Book IV, Chapter 1, C. J. O'Neill, tr., University of Notre Dame Press, 1975, p. 35, para. 2, emphasis added:

. . . since causes are more noble than their effects, the very first caused things are lower than the First Cause, which is God, and still stand out above their effects. And so it goes until one arrives at the lowest of things. And because in the highest summit of things, God, one finds the most perfect unity — and because everything, the more it is one, is the more powerful and the more worthy – – it follows that the farther one gets from the first principle, the greater is the diversity and variation one one finds in things. The process of emanation from God, must, then be unified in the principle itself, but multiplied in the lower things which are its terms.

Key ideas in and suggested by the above passage:

1) Unity admits of degrees. Some unities are 'tighter' than others.

2) The supreme unity is the divine unity. It is the 'tightest' of all, so tight in fact, that God is devoid of all complexity or internal diversity and is therefore ontologically simple, as I explain in my Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy article on divine simplicity. God is pure unity, Unity itself in its highest instance.

3) At the other extreme is pure diversity, a mere collection of items that cannot even be called a collection in that that there is nothing real that collects them, nothing real that they share and that makes them that collection as opposed to some other actual or possible collection. Such a collection is so 'loose' that it does not deserve to be called a collection. We could aptly refer to it as a mere manifold, a mere many-ness. Think of the membership or extension of a mereological sum of utterly disparate items. That would be a pure diversity or mere many-ness.

4) Perfection comes in degrees, and so the divine unity is maximally perfect. A mere many-ness is maximally imperfect.

5) The notion of perfection in Aquinas and thinkers of his stripe blends the ontic with the axiological/normative. To be is to be good. A being is good in the measure that it is, and in the measure that it is, it is good. That, I take it, is the meaning of ens et bonum convertuntur. The terms 'a being' and 'a good thing' are convertible terms, which is to say, in Carnapian material mode: necessarily, for any x, x is or exists if and only if x is good, valuable, pursuit-worthy. (That I reference Carnap in this context should have the old positivist rolling in his grave.)

'In the measure that' conveys the idea that there are degrees of being, an idea anathema to most contemporary analytic philosophers. Divine unity is maximally perfect unity, and thus the unsurpassably best unity and the unsurpassably most real unity. God is really real, ontos on; at the other extreme, non-being, me on, or an approach thereto as in the limit concept (Grenzbegriff), material prima.

6) God's unity is the unity of the transcendent One which does not and cannot form with the Many a super-manifold in which God is just one member among the others. The One and the Many do not, taken together, form a many of which the One is just one more item among the others. Why not? Well, the One is other than or different from the Many both in its nature and in its way of existing. God, for Aquinas, is One to the Many of creatures, but is neither a creature, nor a member of a super-manifold of beings each of which is or exists in the same sense and the same way.

7) Aquinas says above that the more unified a thing, the more powerful it is. So God, the maximally unified being — so unified that this being (ens) is (identically) Being or To Be (esse) itself — is the maximally powerful being.

And so, in conclusion, I say to Canadian pretty boy Justin Trudeau, that diversity is precisely not "our strength," and that you and like-minded State-side fools are to be condemned for your willful self-enstupidation.

My point stands whether or not one accepts Thomism.

God as Uniquely Unique

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Correctly used, 'unique' is three-way polyvalent. It can mean that which is one of a kind, that which is necessarily one of a kind, and that which is uniquely unique in that it transcends the kind-instance distinction.

If Someone is Walking, is He Necessarily Walking? DDS and Modal Collapse

In an article I am studying by Daniel J. Pedersen and Christopher Lilley, "Divine Simplicity, God's Freedom, and the Supposed Problem of Modal Collapse," (Journal of Reformed Theology 16, 2022, 127-147), the authors quote Boethius:

. . . if you know that someone is walking, he must necessarily be walking. (Consolation, v. 6)

They then paraphrase and endorse the point as follows:

That is, supposing a man is walking, so long as he is walking, he must necessarily be walking.

This strikes me as interestingly false. Suppose Tom is walking at time t. Surely he might not have been walking at t. So it is not necessarily, but contingently, the case that Tom is walking at t. For although he is actually walking at t, it is possible that he not be walking at t. Of course, a man cannot walk and not walk at the very same time. For that would violate the law of non-contradiction (LNC). But that is not the issue. The issue is whether the following could be true: Tom is walking at t & it is possible that Tom is not walking at t. And of course it could be true.

Boethius, lately quoted, mentioned knowledge. Is my knowing that Tom is walking at t relevant to the question? Right after the sentence quoted, Boethius writes, "For what a man really knows cannot be otherwise than it is known to be." Suppose I know (with objective certainty) that Tom is walking at t. Would it follow that Tom is necessarily walking at t? No. Boethius appears to have committed a modal fallacy. While it it true that

1) Necessarily (if S knows that p, then p)

it does not follow that

2) If S knows that p, then necessarily p.

To think otherwise is to commit the modal fallacy of confusing the necessity of the consequence (necessitas consequentiae) with the necessity of the consequent (necessitas consequentis). (1) is true; (2) is false; hence the inferential move is invalid. Most of the propositions we know are contingent. For example, I know that I was born in California, but this is a contingent fact about me. I might have been born elsewhere. I might not have been born at all. One cannot know what is false, and so it follows that whatever one knows is true; it does not follow, however, that what one knows is necessarily true. For again, most of what we know is contingently true. In the patois of 'possible worlds,' most of what we know is true in some but not all possible worlds.

So we can set aside knowledge that a man is walking as a good reason for believing that a man walking is necessarily walking. Back to walking Tom. He cannot walk and not walk at the same time. But if he is walking at a given time, it is possible that he not be walking at that time, which is to say: Tom's walking at t is contingent, not necessary. Don't confuse possibly (p & ~p) with p & possibly ~p. Mind the scope of the modal operator.

The authors do not agree. They follow Boethius, Aquinas (Summa Contra Gentiles I, 67), and other scholastics. While they grant that it is not absolutely or unconditionally necessary that a man walk, on the ground that there is nothing in the concept human being or the essence human being to require that an instance of this concept/essence walk, it is hypothetically or conditionally necessary that a particular man walk on condition that he is in fact walking. I will argue against this distinction in a moment. But first:

Modal collapse and DDS

Why is this so interesting? One reason is because it is relevant to the problem of modal collapse that bedevils classical theism. (Classical theists, by definition, are committed to the doctrine of divine simplicity (DDS).) Here is (one aspect of) the problem in brief compass. God exists of absolute metaphysical (broadly logical) necessity. The ground or source of this necessity is the divine simplicity. On DDS there are no distinctions in God, hence no distinction between God and his creating of our (presumably) contingent universe U. Since God is omnipotent, his creating of U ex nihilo is efficacious: he cannot fail to 'pull off' what he intends. It is presumably also deterministic: divine efficient agent-causation of U is not probabilistic or 'chancy.' It would seem to follow that God, his free creating of U, and U itself are all three absolutely necessary. Now everything is either God or created by God, including so-called abstract objects. It follows that everything is absolutely necessary and thus that nothing is contingent. The distinction between necessity and contingency collapses. The senses of the modal terms, no doubt, remain intact and distinct on the intensional plane; the collapse occurs on the extensional plane. Hence the dreaded modal collapse. This is unacceptable if you believe, as most classical theists do, that creation is contingent, both the action of creating and its effect, the ensemble of creatures. (Note the process-product ambiguity of 'creation.') A separate problem in the immediate vicinity, one that I will not discuss here, concerns whether the contingency of creation requires a libertarian model of divine free agency.

A response via the distinction between absolute and hypothetical necessity

One among several responses to the threatened collapse of the contingent into the necessary is to say that there is no modal collapse, no reduction of everything to absolute necessity, because, while God is absolutely necessary, his creatures are not absolutely but only hypothetically necessary. This distinction is supposed to avert the collapse. I do not believe that this distinction, despite its distinguished pedigree, stands up to close scrutiny. Let me explain.

If a thing exists necessarily, one may reasonably ask about the ground or source of its necessary existence. In the case of God, if there is such a ground, it would have to be God himself in his ontological simplicity. God is necessary in se, in himself, and not ab alio, from another. This is because God does not and indeed cannot derive his existence from another. In the case of so-called abstract objects such as the number 9 or the set {7, 9} the ground of necessary existence is in God. For abstracta are creatures: they derive their existence from God. Or at least this is a reasonable thing to say. Accordingly, abstracta are necessary ab alio, from another. Given that they too are creatures, they cannot exist in themselves, but are dependent on God for their existence. You might even say that they are hypothetically or conditionally necessary in that they exist only on condition that God create them, and this despite the fact that abstracta exist 'in all possible worlds' in the Leibniz-derived patois of 'possible worlds.' If, per impossibile, God were not to exist, then abstract entities would not exist either, and this regardless of the fact that they 'exist in all possible worlds' just as God does. There is no harm in speaking of abstracta as hypothetically necessary if all this means is that abstracta are necessary beings that are dependent on God for their existence. There is no harm as long as it is realized that God and the number 9, for example, are necessary in the very same sense with the difference being that God exists unconditionally whereas the number exists conditionally or dependently ('hypothetically'). But then there are not two kinds of necessity, absolute and hypothetical, as the authors seem to think, but one kind only, with however two different sources or grounds of the existence of those items that enjoy this one kind of necessity (absolute metaphysical necessity). By my lights, one must distinguish between the question whether a thing exists dependently or independently from the question whether the thing exists necessarily or contingently. The two distinctions 'cut perpendicular' to each other. Accordingly, God exists independently and necessarily; abstracta exist dependently and necessarily; poor Socrates exists dependently and contingently. What holds for Socrates holds for every sublunary creature, every concrete item in space and time that is created by God. If the universe of sublunary items just exists, brute-factually, as Bertrand Russell maintained in his BBC debate with Fr. Copleston, then Socrates exists contingently but not dependently. If a thing is modally contingent, it does not follow straightaway that it is dependent on ('contingent upon') anything. On my view, then, modal collapse remains a formidable threat to DDS and thus to classical theism which, by definition, includes DDS.

What our authors want to say, however, is not merely that abstracta enjoy hypothetical necessity, but that all creatures, including material creatures in time and space, enjoy this "kind" (the authors' word) of necessity. But this is the Boethian mistake all over again. If Tom is walking at t, it does not follow that he is necessarily walking at t. Likewise, if Tom is being sustained in his existence by divine action at t, it does not follow that Tom necessarily exists at t. No, our man contingently exists at t. For God could decide at t or right before to 'pull the plug' on Tom (or on the entire universe of which he is a part) in which case Tom, who had been in existence moments before, would become nothing. Despite God's ongoing creative sustenance of Tom moment by moment, at each moment he remains possibly nonexistent, which is to say, contingent. (To understand what I just wrote, you have to understand that 'possibly' is to be taken ontologically, not epistemically.)

If I am told that Tom and the rest of the denizens of the sublunary are not modally contingent, but hypothetically necessary, I will repeat my point that there is no such modality as hypothetical necessity. The notion is an illicit amalgam that elides the distinction between existence and modality. Everything that exists is either necessary or contingent. And everything that exists either exists dependently or independently. Hypothetical necessity is a misbegotten notion.

Linguistically, the qualifier 'hypothetical' in 'hypothetical necessity' is an alienans adjective, one the shifts ('alienates,' 'others') the sense of 'necessity. In this respect it is like 'apparent' in 'apparent heart attack.' A deciduous tree cannot fail to be a tree; an apparent heat attack, however, may fail to be a heart attack. 'Hypothetical necessity' is unlike 'deciduous tree' and very much like 'apparent heart attack.' Some heart attacks are merely apparent while others are apparent and real. (And still others, of course, are real but not apparent.) Similarly, some necessary beings are hypothetical in that they depend for their existence on God; other necessary beings are absolute in that they do not depend on anything.

One mistake is to think that the number 9, e.g., is only hypothetically necessary because dependent on God for its existence. No, it is just as modally necessary as God. Another mistake is to think that if some creatures are non-contingent, then all creatures are, including the denizens of the sublunary, in plain English, those that are material, temporal, and spatial. Socrates — our representative sublunary critter — is a modally contingent being despite his creaturely status. A third mistake is to think that, because divine productive causation ex nihilo necessitates its effect, that the effect is thereby rendered modally necessary. This mistake is structurally analogous to the logical mistake of confusing the necessity of the consequence with the necessity of the consequent. Whatever God brings into existence out of nothing cannot fail to exist, but that is not to say that the effect of the bringing-into-existence is modally necessary. No, it remains modally contingent, just as modally contingent as the divine action. If you say that the divine action is absolutely necessary, then of course the effect is modally necessary. But then you have nolens volens accepted modal collapse!

In sum, there is no evading the modal collapse objection to DDS by distinguishing between absolute and hypothetical necessity, and this for the reason that there is no such modality as hypothetical necessity. The phrase 'hypothetical necessity' can only mean that certain entities that are modally necessary, the inmates of what Plantinga has called the "Platonic menagerie," are nevertheless dependent on God for their existence.

If God is Simple, How can the World be Contingent?

This entry is an offshoot of the earlier discussion of classical theism and its difference from theistic personalism. These labels have the meaning here than they had in that earlier discussion. Classical theism is committed to all three of the following:

1) God is simple.

2) God freely created the world in the libertarian 'could have done otherwise' sense.

3) There is no absolute necessity that God create our world or any world.

Theistic personalists hold that these three propositions are collectively inconsistent: they cannot all be true. If they are logically inconsistent, then at least one of them must be either rejected or modified. The theistic personalist will reject (1) on the ground that God is a person and that no person is simple. This the classical theist will refuse to do on the basis of reasons he finds compelling. So refusing, he must find a way to turn aside the accusation of inconsistency.

Well, why should the triad be thought inconsistent? Here's why. If God is simple, then he is purely actual. If purely actual, then he harbors no potencies or unrealized powers. His power, which is manifested in his creating of the world (the totality of creatures), could then not have gone unrealized. He could not have refrained from creating. If so, his power to create had to be realized, in which case God's creating of the world (the totality of created items) is necessary, not contingent. It is the necessary action of a necessarily existent agent, and is thus absolutely, as opposed to conditionally necessary. But then it follows that the world exists necessarily and not contingently. This is a consequence that cannot be countenanced by the classical theist. For it conflicts with the divine aseity which is an entailment of the divine simplicity, which is a plank in the classical platform. If God is a se, then he is under no necessity to create. If God is a se, then he is wholly self-sufficient and fully actual whether or not he creates anything.

Can this reasoning be evaded? I will conclude this entry by considering and rejecting one evasive stratagem. Nathan Greeley writes,

. . . to say that God's activity of knowing and willing exist necessarily is not to say that created objects of his knowing and willing must also exist necessarily. As long as these created objects are considered really distinct from the acts by which they are known and willed, then the objects in themselves, need not have the same modal status as these acts. [. . .] God, one can then say, necessarily knows and necessarily wills in an absolute manner, but at least some of the particular objects of his knowledge are contingent. ("Divine Simplicity: A Reply to Philosophical Objections" in The Lord is One: Reclaiming Divine Simplicity, eds. Minich and Kamel, Davenant Press, 2019, p. 237, emphasis added.)

The idea here is that what God necessarily creates, and thus could not have failed to create, can nevertheless be contingent, i.e., possibly nonexistent. As far as I can see, there is only way this could be true. Suppose that God's creating of a thing simultaneously releases it into ontological independence. The divine creative act makes the thing exist, but once it exists, it exists on its own, 'by its own power' without divine assistance. In other words, when God creates a thing, he creates it in such a way that its existence, moment by moment, does not depend on God's ongoing creative sustenance after the initial creative action. If this is the nature of creation, then the created entity could very well be contingent despite the creative act's being necessary. For the created entity to exist in the first place it is necessary that God create it, but after he does so the entity exists contingently. On this scheme, there is creatio originans (originating creation), but no creatio continuans (continuing creation). This allows what is originally caused to exist to be contingent.

Unfortunately, this understanding of creation is foreign to classical theism. On classical theism, creation is both originating and continuing. What's more, classical theism need not insist on the reality of this distinction. For even if the world (the created realm) has an infinite past and always existed, it could nonetheless have creaturely status. If that were the case, then there would be no real distinction between originating and continuing creation. If, on the other hand, the world had a beginning in time, then, on classical theism, it still needs to be kept in being moment by moment.

I conclude that the stratagem proposed by Greeley above does not allow the proponent of divine simplicity to evade the conclusion that, if the simple God creates, then the product of his creative act necessarily exists.

Next stop: modal collapse.

Theistic Personalism versus Classical Theism: Response to Roger Pouivet

Professor Roger Pouivet (Université de Lorraine, France) recently subscribed to my Substack series. I wrote to thank him and to request a copy of his Against Theistic Personalism: What Modern Epistemology Does to Classical Theism. He replied promptly and I dove into his article. It proved to be stimulating and I thank him for writing it. Herewith, some comments and questions.

1) Theistic personalism is the view that God is a person and that therefore the relations between God and human creatures are interpersonal. Pouivet argues against this view, taking the classical line of Augustine, Boethius, Anselm, Maimonides, and Thomas according to which God is ontologically simple and thus identical to his attributes. (See my Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy entry, Divine Simplicity, for details, motivation, criticisms, and references to current literature.*) The simple God of classical theism is wholly devoid of complexity and composition. The distinctions that apply to creatures do not apply to God. Among them: form-matter, act-potency, essence-existence, and individual-attribute. I would add to the list contingency-necessity as standardly understood. Aquinas held that some necessary beings have their necessity ab alio, i.e., from God, whereas God has his necessity in se. The former are creatures because they depend on God for their existence. (A creature is simply anything created by God.) The contingency-necessity ab alio distinction does not apply to God. God is therefore uniquely necessary as he is uniquely unique: he is not a necessary being among necessary beings. This is why, on classical theism, the divine necessity is not properly represented, or fully captured, if you say merely that God exists in all metaphysically possible worlds as theistic personalists such as Alvin Plantinga will say. They think of God as a necessary being among necessary beings.

2) The main question, however, is whether the classical God, the simple God, could be a person. That depends on what a person is taken to be. For Pouivet, no person can be simple: no person is identical to its attributes. It follows straightaway that the simple God cannot be a person. That's one argument. Second, no person is immutable: people change mentally and physically. Whatever changes is in time. To put the point precisely, it is metaphysically impossible that anything undergo intrinsic (non-relational) change unless it is in time. (The eternal God, outside of time, could presumably 'undergo' relational change as when I start and stop thinking about him and his attributes.) So persons are mutable and in time and are thus non-eternal). But the simple God is both intrinsically immutable and eternal. It follows that the simple God cannot be a person.

c) For Pouivet, "A person is a being with an essentially mental life made up of mental states such as thoughts (mental representations) or desires." (p. 3) It seems to follow from this definition that if God is not and cannot be a person, then he cannot have a mental life with thoughts, desires and intentions. But then I will ask Professor Pouivet how, on his view, we can makes sense of the divine omniscience. Classical theism does not exclude omniscience as a divine attribute. But to know is to be in a mental state. So it would seem that God must either possess mental states or something analogous to mental states. Granted, the archetypal intellect's knowing is very different from our ectypal knowing: God knows the object by creating it; we do not. There cannot, however, be an equivocation on 'knows' in 'God knows' and 'Socrates knows' even if there is no univocity of sense. But I found no mention of analogy in Pouivet's article.

The problem also arises with respect to the divine will. Pouivet rightly points out that for Aquinas the simplicity doctrine entails that there is nothing potential in God, that God is actus purus. (7) He then takes aim at Swinburne's view that God is a "superlative person" who is perfectly free, all-powerful, and omniscient. Pouivet objects to Swinburne:

But this has nothing to do with God as pure act . . . . In this [Thomist] tradition, God is not described as a being with intentional power . . . . For theistic personalists, the notion of intentional power is however directly linked to the idea of conscious experience which is also characteristic of human beings. The result is a deeply anthropomorphic account of God. (7-8)

A question for Professor Pouivet: can classical theism do justice to the notion that God freely created the world? It seems to me that there is a tension between divine simplicity (upheld by classical theists) and divine freedom (upheld by theistic personalists) and that Judeo-Christian theism is committed to both.

1) If God is simple, then he is purely actual (actus purus) and thus devoid of unexercised powers and unrealized potentialities. He is, from all eternity, all that he can be. This is true in every possible world because God exists in every possible world, and is pure act in every possible world. As a necessary being, God exists in every possible world, and as a simple being, he is devoid of act-potency composition in every world in which he exists.

2) As it is, God freely created our universe from nothing; but he might have created a different universe, or no universe at all. This implies that any universe God creates contingently exists.

The dyad seems logically inconsistent. If (1) is true, then there is no possible world in which God has unexercised powers. But if (2) is true, there is at least one possible world in which God has unexercised powers. Had God created no universe, then his power to create would have gone unexercised. Had God created a different universe than the one he did create, then his power to create our universe would also have gone unexercised. So if God is both simple and (libertarianly) free, then we get a logical contradiction.

In nuce, the problem is to explain how it can be true both that God is simple and that the universe which God created ex nihilo is contingent. Clearly, the classical theist wants to uphold both. What is unclear, however, is whether he can uphold both.

There are two main ways to solve an aporetic polyad. One is to show that the inconsistency alleged is at best apparent, but not real. The other way is by rejection of one of the limbs.

Many if not most theists, and almost all Protestants, will simply (pun intended) deny the divine simplicity. I myself think there are good reasons for embracing the latter. But how then avoid modal collapse?

Modal Collapse

We have modal collapse just when the following proposition is true: For any x, x is possible iff x is actual iff x is necessary. This implies that nothing is merely possible; nothing is contingent; nothing is impossible. If nothing is merely possible, then there are no merely possible worlds, which implies that there is exactly one possible world, the actual world, which cannot fail to be actual, and is therefore necessary. Modal collapse ushers in what I call call modal Spinozism.

(The collapse is on the extensional, not the intensional or notional plane: the modal words retain their distinctive senses.)

Suppose divine simplicity entails modal collapse (modal Spinozism). So what? What is so bad about the latter? Well, it comports none too well with God's sovereignty. If God is absolutely sovereign, then he cannot be under a metaphysical necessity to create. Connected with this is the fact that if God must create, then his aseity would be compromised. He cannot be wholly from himself, a se, if his existence necessarily requires a realm of creatures. Finally, creaturely (libertarian) freedom would go by the boards if reality is one big block of Spinozistic necessity.

______________________

*Curiously, just yesterday the SEP editors informed me that an updated version is due from me by the end of February, 2023. Readers apprised of the latest literature are encouraged to contact me with their references.)

Platonism, Aristotelianism, and Divine Simplicity

Dominik Kowalski has a question for me about footnote 3 in Peter van Inwagen's "God's Being and Ours" in Miroslav Szatkowski, ed., Ontology of Theistic Beliefs, de Gruyter, 2018, pp. 213-223. (Van Inwagen's essay is right after my "Does God Exist Because He Ought to Exist?, pp. 203-212. I managed to upstage van Inwagen, but only alphabetically.) Here is footnote 3:

Catholic philosophers have often said not that God’s existence is a consequence of his nature but that his existence and his nature are identical. This doctrine is one of the many implications of the more general “doctrine of Divine Simplicity”, according to which phrases like ‘God’s power’, ‘God’s wisdom’, ‘God’s love’, ‘God’s nature’ and ‘God’s existence’ all denote one and the same thing, namely the Divine Substance – that is, God, God himself, God full stop. The doctrine of Divine Simplicity, however, presupposes an Aristotelian ontology of substance and attribute (for present purposes, “Aristotelianism”). From the point of view of a Platonist like myself, the doctrine of Divine Simplicity is wrong simply because it presupposes Aristotelianism, and Aristotelianism is false.

Here is Dominik's question:

Where does that idea come from? [The idea that DDS presupposes an Aristotelian ontology.] Seriously, I don't understand. It might be disputable whether we can reconcile Plotinus' understanding of the way the One exists with a Thomistic view about God, but divine simplicity is a core pillar of (Neo-)Platonist arguments, e.g. the argument from composition. As said, perhaps the identification of God with existence is a newer concept due to development by philosophers in the Aristotelian tradition, but prima facie I think formulating the dispute the way van Inwagen does, muddies the water. Divine Simplicity mustn't be identified with an explicitly Thomistic formulation, this just undersells the disputes the doctrine has historically surrounded [undersells the disputes that have historically surrounded the doctrine].

1) Kowalski is right that the ontological simplicity of the Absolute is at the core of Platonism and Ne0-Platonism. The Good of Plato, the One of Plotinus, and the God of Aquinas are all ontologically simple. The theology of Aquinas quite obviously incorporates this neo-Platonic element, along with other elements, some of which do not comport well with the neo-Platonic element. No Absolute worth its salt can fail to be simple, and the God of Aquinas is the Absolute in his system. For Aquinas, Deus est ipsum esse subsistens. Literally translated, God is self-subsisting To Be. Intellectual honesty demands that we admit that this God concept teeters on the brink of unintelligibility. But it is defensible as a Grenzbegriff, a boundary or limit concept. See The Concept GOD as Limit Concept.

God is not a being among beings, but Being itself. In this respect God is like the One of Plotinus. There is no Many in which the One is a member. The ONE is not one of many. Similarly, in Aquinas there is no totality of beings in which God is a member. God is not one being among many. He is utterly transcendent like the One of Plotinus and the Good of Plato. And yet, God is not other than every being, every ens, for he himself is. If God were other than every being, then he would be other than himself, which is impossible. This distinguishes the God of Aquinas from Heidegger's Being. For Heidegger, das Sein ist kein Seiendes, Being is other than every being, everything that is. For Aquinas, Gott oder das Sein ist selbst seiend, God or Being is himself being. Or, as I say in my existence book, The Paradigm Existent, the Unifier, is not a being (which would imply that it is a being among beings), but the being, the one and only being (ens) that is identical to its Being (esse) . That is indeed one of the entailments of DDS: there is no real distinction in God as between God and Being and between God and his Being.

2) As for Peter van Inwagen, he, like so many hard-core analytic types, uses 'Platonism' and related expressions in a loose and historically uninformed way. He calls himself a Platonist but he certainly does not accept 'into his ontology' — as these types say — Platonic Forms or Ideas (eide), Platonic participation (methexis) of phenomenal particulars in Forms, and the rest of the conceptual machinery which naturally within Plato's system implies levels/grades of Being and modes of Being which Dominik, as a German speaker, can understand as Seinsweisen or Seinsmodi. In the essay in question, van Inwagen comes out unequivocally against modes of Being. (I employ the majuscule 'B' in 'Being' so as to mark the crucial distinction between Being and beings, esse et ens/entia, das Sein und das Seiende. Observing that distinction is initium sapientiae in ontology.)

Van Inwagen's main man is Willard van Orman Quine who contributed to the misuse of the good old word 'abstract' with his talk of 'abstract objects.' So-called abstract objects are not products of abstraction. Van Inwagen buys into this lapse from traditional usage along with his colleague Alvin Plantinga. Accordingly, there are properties, but they are 'abstract objects' which exist just as robustly (or just as anemically) as 'concrete objects.' So-called abstract objects are, besides being outside of space and time, causally inert. So it is no surprise that Plantinga and van Inwagen reject the DDS claim that God is identical to each of his omni-attributes or essential properties. To their way of thinking, that identity claim makes of God a causally inert abstract object, which of course God, as causa prima, cannot be.

3) When van Inwagen says that DDS presupposes an Aristotelian ontology of substance and attribute, what he says is true inasmuch as said ontology is a constituent ontology (C-ontology). This is what he, as a self-styled 'Platonist' objects to. I explain C-ontology in my Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy entry on DDS. See section 3. Here is part of what I say in that section:

Since a Plantinga-type approach to ontology rules out DDS from the outset, no sophisticated adherent of the doctrine will adopt such an approach. The DDS defender will embrace an ontology that accommodates an ontologically simple being. Indeed, as Nicholas Wolterstorff (1991) notes, classical proponents of DDS such as Aquinas had a radically different ontological style, one that allowed for the coherent conceivability of DDS. They did not think of individuals as related to their properties as to abstracta external to them, but as having properties as ontological constituents. They, and some atheist contemporaries as well, think in terms of a “constituent ontology” as opposed to what Wolterstorff calls a “relation ontology” or what might be called a “nonconstituent ontology”. Bundle theories are contemporary examples of constituent ontology. If properties are assayed as tropes and a concrete particular as a bundle of tropes, then these tropes or abstract particulars are parts of concrete particulars when suitably bundled. Properties so assayed are brought from Plato’s heaven to earth. The togetherness or compresence of tropes in a trope bundle is not formal identity but a kind of contingent sameness. Thus a redness trope and a sweetness trope in an apple are not identical but contingently compresent as parts of the same whole. A model such as this allows for an extrapolation to a necessary compresence of the divine attributes in the case of God. Aquinas, the greatest of the medieval proponents of DDS, is of course an Aristotelian, not a trope theorist. But he too is a constituent ontologist. Form and matter, act and potency, and essence and existence are constituents of primary substances. Essence and existence in sublunary substances such as Socrates are really distinct but inseparably together. Their unity is contingent. This model permits an extrapolation to the case of a being in which essence and existence are necessarily together or compresent. Constituent ontology, as murky as it must remain on a sketch such as this, at least provides a framework in which DDS is somewhat intelligible as opposed to a Plantinga-style framework on which DDS remains wholly unintelligible. The arguments for DDS amount to arguments against the nonconstituent ontological framework.

Combox open. I invite Dominik to tell me whether I have answered his question to his satisfaction.

God and Existence: How Related?

A reader asks:

You seem to hold that, if God is identical to his existence, then God is Existence itself. Why think that? Why not think instead that, if God is identical to his existence, then he is identical to his 'parcel' of existence, as it were?

This is an entirely reasonable question. I will try to answer it.

First of all, when we say that God is identical to his existence, we mean that there is no real distinction in God between essence (nature) and existence in the way in which there is a real distinction in Socrates (our representative creature) between essence (nature) and existence. It is the real distinction in Socrates that grounds his metaphysical contingency, while it is the lack of such a distinction in God that grounds his metaphysical necessity.

This is to say that God, unlike creatures, is ontologically simple. In a slogan of St Augustine, God is what he has. Thus he has his existence by being his existence. In this one case, the 'is' of identity and the 'is' of predication coalesce. Why must God be simple? Because he is the absolute reality. If your god is not the absolute reality, then your god is not God but an idol. The absolute cannot depend on anything else for its nature or existence on pain of ceasing to be the absolute. It must possess aseity, from-itself-ness.

Now Existence is in some way common to everything that exists, though it is not common in the manner of a property or a concept. Thus God and Socrates have Existence in common. If God is not identical to Existence, then he is like Socrates and must depend on Existence as something other than himself to exist. But this violates the divine aseity.

Therefore, God is not only identical to his existence, he is identical to Existence itself.

Objection: "If God is identical to Existence, then God alone exists, which flies in the face of the evident fact that there is a plurality of non-divine existents."

Reply: The objection succeeds only if there are no different ways of existing. But if God exists-underivatively and creatures exist-derivatively, then God's identity with Existence does not entail that God alone exists; it entails that God alone exists-underivatively.

The picture is this. Existence is that which makes derivative existents exist. If Existence did not itself exist, then nothing would exist. So Existence itself exists. It is identical to God. God is the unsourced Source of everything distinct from God. God, as Existence itself, is the Paradigm Existent. God is at once both Existence and the prime case of Existence.

In this respect, God is like a Platonic Form in which all else participates. (It is worth recalling in this connection that Aquinas speaks of God as forma formarum, the form of all forms.) God is self-existent Existence; creatures are not self-existent, but derive their existence from self-existent Existence.

Objection: "This scheme issues in something like the dreaded Third Man Regress. If Socrates and Plato both exist by participating in Existence, which exists, then there are three things that exist, Socrates, Plato, and Existence, each of which exists by participation. If so, there must be a second Existence, Existence-2 that Socrates, Plato and Existence-1 participate in. But then an infinite regress is up and running, one that is, moreover, vicious."

Response: The Third Man Regress is easily blocked by distinguishing the way Existence exists and the way derivative existents exist. Socrates exists by participating in Existence; Existence exists, not by participation, but by being (identical to) Existence.

There is exactly one case in which existence = self-identity. This is the case of the Paradigm Existent, which is Existence itself, which is God. If God is God, then God exists. (Bonaventura) In every other case, existence is not self-identity. No doubt Socrates is self-identical; but his self-identity is not the ground of his existence.

Divine Simplicity and Incarnation

This from a reader:

Jordan Daniel Wood . . . affirms that God does not have possibilities within himself to actualize and thus the Incarnation—God becoming a human being—must in some way [be] actual prior to its historical event; God does not become a human being but in some way already is a human being . . . .

Very interesting.

The simple God is actus purus. Purely actual, he embodies no unrealized powers or unactualized potentialities. He is, eternally, all that he can be. We think of the Incarnation, however, as a contingent event. In the patois of 'possible worlds': The triune God exists in all metaphysically possible worlds, but the Second Person of the Trinity becomes human in only some of them. The following argument suggests itself:

1) The Word became flesh and dwellt among us.

2) The Word's becoming flesh is a contingent event.

3) There is no contingency and no becoming in any of the three divine persons: the Word cannot become flesh, that is, assume human nature.

Therefore

4) The Word (Logos, Second Person) had a divine and human nature from all eternity.

How could a classical Christian trinitarian theist rebut this argument? (Part of being a classical Christian theist is accepting the divine simplicity.)

On God’s Not Falling Under Concepts

Fr. Deinhammer tells us, ". . . Gott fällt nicht unter Begriffe, er ist absolut unbegreiflich. . . ." "God does not fall under concepts; he is absolutely inconceivable or unconceptualizable. . . ."

Edward the Logician sent me an e-mail in which he forwards a stock objection:

Who is it who is absolutely inconceivable or unconceptualizable? Either ‘he’ tells us, or not. If so, the proposition is false. If not, the proposition is incoherent.

I appreciate that you are quoting the person who wrote to you, but my aporia stands.

Ed's aporetic point can be summed up as follows. Talk of God as inconceivable is either false or meaningless. If the person who claims that God is inconceivable is operating with some concept of God, then the claim is meaningful but false. If, on the other hand, the person is operating with no concept of God, then saying that God is inconceivable is no better than saying that X is inconceivable, which says nothing and is therefore meaningless. (X is inconceivable is at best a propositional function, not a proposition, hence neither true nor false. To make a proposition out of it you must either bind the free variable 'x' with a quantifier or else substitute a proper name for 'x.')

A Response to the Objection

Suppose we make a distinction between those concepts that can capture the essences or natures of the things of which they are the concepts, and those concepts that cannot. Call the first type ordinary concepts and the second limit concepts (Grenzbegriffe). Thus the concept cube captures the essence of every cube, which is to be a three-dimensional solid bounded by six square faces or sides with three meeting at each vertex, and it captures this essence fully. The concept heliotropic plant captures, partially, the essence of those plants which exhibit diurnal or seasonal motion of plant parts in response to the direction of the sun.

Now the concept God cannot be ordinary since this concept cannot capture the essence of God. For in God essence and existence are one, and there is no ordinary concept of existence. (The existence of a thing, as other than its essence, cannot be conceptualized.) Again, in God there is no real distinction between God and his nature, whereas no ordinary concept captures the individuality of the thing of which it is the concept. Since God is (identically) his nature, there can be no ordinary concept of God.

There is, then, a tolerably clear sense in which God is unconceptualizable or unbegreiflich: he cannot be grasped by the use of any ordinary concept. But it doesn't follow that we have no concept of God. The concept God is a limit concept: it is the concept of something that cannot be grasped using ordinary concepts. It is the concept of something that lies at the outer limits of discursive intelligibility, and indeed just beyond that limit. We can argue up to this Infinite Object/Subject, but then discursive operations must cease. We can however point to God, in a manner of speaking, using limit concepts. The concept God is the concept of an infinite, absolute and wholly transcendent reality whose realitas formalis so exceeds our powers of understanding that it cannot be taken up into the realitas objectiva of any of our ordinary concepts.

If this is right, then there is a way between the horns of the above dilemma. But of course it needs further elaboration and explanation.

Divine Simplicity and Divine Comprehensibility

From a reader, who is responding to God as Uniquely Unique:

An objection I recently heard to the doctrine of divine simplicity (DDS) that is novel as far as I can tell. Goes like this: if DDS is true, God is unlike anything in our human experience, not having parts. We cannot comprehend God on DDS because he has no parts to comprehend apart from the whole; we can't comprehend the whole of God, and he doesn't have parts to comprehend, so we can't comprehend him at all. This is unacceptable at least on the Abrahamic faiths, which state we can comprehend some things about God, just not fully. Thoughts?

Here is the argument as I understand it:

1) If DDS is true, then God has no parts.

2) If God has no parts, then we cannot understand any part of God.

Therefore

3) If DDS is true, then we cannot understand any part of God.(1, 2)

4) We cannot understand the whole of God.

5) We cannot understand God at all unless we can either understand some part of God, or the whole of God.

Therefore

6) If DDS is true, then we cannot understand God at all. (3, 4, 5)

7) On the Abrahamic faiths, we can understand something about God.

Therefore

8) DDS is inconsistent with the Abrahamic faiths.

I would say that the argument fails at line (5). We can understand something about God without understanding God himself in whole or in part. If we understand God to be the creator of the universe, then we understand something about God without understanding the whole of God or any part of God. We understand God from his effects as that which satisfies the definite description 'the unique x such that x created the world and sustains it in existence.' We can presumably understand this much about God without knowing him in propria persona or any of his parts. The question whether God is simple would seem to be irrelevant to question whether we can know anything about him.

Mundane analogy: I can know something about the burglar from the size and shape of the footprints he left without knowing him or his parts.

If God is Uniquely Unique, How could He be Addressed in Prayer?

My entry God as Uniquely Unique ended on an aporetic note. I acknowledged the following sort of objection, but had nothing to say in response to it. How could the ontologically simple God be of any religious use to the suffering creature wandering in the desert of the world?

"Such an utterly transcendent God as you are describing is ineffable! He is the God of the philosophers, not the God of Abraham, Issac, and Jacob. I want a God with a face, a God that can be addressed in petitionary prayer, a God that is a Thou to my I."

The problem can be put like this. The exigencies of the intellect drive us toward the simple God, a God so utterly transcendent as to be inconceivable to us. The exigencies of the heart, however, move us toward a personal God with whom one could enter an I-Thou relation. Is it possible to mediate this opposition?

Is it possible to stand astride Athens and Jerusalem, with a foot in each, and not topple over or be torn apart?

A letter from Robert Deinhammer, S. J., of Innsbruck, Austria suggests a way. Here is his letter followed by my translation:

Ich bin gerade wieder einmal nach längerer Zeit auf ihrem Blog gewesen und finde Ihren jüngsten Eintrag über die einzigartige Einzigartikeit Gottes sehr wichtig.

Ich würde mit P. Knauer sagen: Gott fällt nicht unter Begriffe, er ist absolut unbegreiflich. Wie kann man dann von ihm reden? Antwort: Wir begreifen von Gott immer nur das von ihm Verschiedene, nämlich die geschaffene Welt, die aber auf ihn hinweist und ohne ihn überhaupt nicht sein kann. Geschaffensein bedeutet im Rahmen einer relationalen Ontologie ein "restloses Bezogensein auf …/ in restloser Verschiedenheit von …". Dies ermöglicht auch "hinweisende" Rede von Gott: Die Welt ist Gott ähnlich und unähnlich zugleich; Gott seinerseits ist der Welt gegenüber aber nur unähnlich. Die Relation der Welt auf Gott ist vollkommen einseitig. In diesem Sinne führt natürliche Theologie nur zur Einsicht, dass Gott in "unzugänglichem Licht wohnt" (1 Tim) und wir als bloße Geschöpfe keinerlei Gemeinschaft mit ihm haben können.

Vor diesem überaus dunklen Hintergrund erläutert allein der Inhalt der christlichen Botschaft, wie dennoch Gemeinschaft mit Gott ausgesagt werden kann: Wir sind von vornherein aufgenommen in eine göttliche Relation, nämlich in die ewige Liebe des Vaters zum Sohn, die der Heilige Geist ist. So kann Gott auf die Welt real bezogen sein, ohne dadurch von der Welt abhängig zu werden. Aber gerade weil diese göttliche Liebe nicht ihr Maß an der Welt hat und deshalb auch keine Macht der Welt dagegen ankommen kann, kann man sie auch nicht einfach an der Welt "ablesen" oder durch meditative Versenkung erkennen. Sie ist nur erkennbar im Glauben an die Botschaft Jesu: Der Sohn hat eine menschliche Natur angenommen, um uns in einem menschlichen Wort sagen zu können, das wir an seinem Verhältnis zum Vater Anteil haben. In diesem Sinne wird dann auch Gebet erst möglich: Jesus Christus nimmt uns hinein in sein Sprechen zum Vater.

………………………..

I have just now visited your blog again after a long while and I find your most recent entry on the unique uniqueness of God to be very important.

I would say, with P. Knauer, that God does not fall under concepts; he is absolutely inconceivable or unconceptualizable. But then how can one speak of him? Answer: We conceive of God always only by way of that which is different from him, namely, the created world which points to him and which without him cannot be at all. In the context of a relational ontology, creaturehood means 'a total relatedness to . . . / in total difference from . . . .' This makes possible 'pointing' talk of God: the world is both like and unlike God; God on his side, however, is only unlike the world . The relation of the world to God is completely one-sided or unilateral. In this sense natural theology leads to the insight that God "dwelleth in inaccessible light" (1 Timothy 6:16) and we mere creatures can have no kind of community with him.

But if God so dwells and is unapproachable by us, and we can enjoy no community with him, how are we to explain the Christian message that we nevertheless can have community with God? As follows. We are from the outset taken up in a divine relation, namely, in the eternal love of the Father for the Son, which relation is the Holy Spirit. In this way God can be really related to the world without thereby becoming dependent on the world. But precisely because this divine love has no worldly measure and also cannot be opposed by any worldly power, one cannot simply 'read it off' from the world or know it by non-discursive meditation. Divine love is knowable only by faith in the message of Jesus: The Son has assumed a human nature in order to be able to say to us in human words that we share in his relation to the Father. In this sense prayer is first possible: Jesus Christ takes us into his speaking with the Father.

How is community with God possible given his absolute transcendence? That is the problem. If I understand the above, the solution requires both Trinity and Incarnation. Within the Godhead, the Son loves the Father and the Father the Son. This eternal relation of love is the Holy Spirit. God, in the person of the Son, becomes man. "And the Word became flesh and dwellt among us." Fully human and fully divine, Jesus Christ brings the divine into the creaturely realm. The transcendent becomes immanent without ceasing to be transcendent. God acquires a human face and speaks saving words within the range of human hearing.

The question cannot be suppressed: Is not the solution as problematic as the original problem? The exigencies of the discursive intellect drive us beyond it to the simple God who lies beyond the discursive intellect and is devoid of human meaning. The restoration of such meaning, however, via Trinity and Incarnation, also involves inconceivabilities, as any good Unitarian will be quick to point out.