This is the final chapter in Book One of Aristotle’s Physics. In the previous chapter, Aristotle responded to the view of some earlier philosophers that change (generation and corruption) is impossible by making a distinction between what Aquinas would call “essential change” and “accidental change”. He begins this last chapter:
“Others, indeed, have apprehended the nature in question, but not adequately. In the first place they allow that a thing may come to be without qualification from not-being, accepting on this point the statement of Parmenides. Secondly, they think that if the substratum is one numerically, it must have also only a single potentiality–which is a very different thing” (Physics 1.9, 191b35-192a2) .
In chapter eight, Aristotle concluded that those philosophers who denied “coming to be and passing away and change generally” are mistaken because they did not grasp “this nature” of essential and accidental change. Here he seems to be saying that some other philosophers “apprehended” this nature, but “not adequately”. In particular, as Aquinas points out, these philosophers “touched upon” matter, or the potency of a thing. Continue reading
The week before last I reviewed the book An Atheist and a Christian Walk into a Bar, coauthored by theist Randal Rauser and atheist Justin Schieber. Once again I must reiterate that it is really quite an important book, in terms of its unique approach to dialoguing such matters. I do highly recommend giving it a read.
In the book, both Rauser and Schieber give several arguments each for their respective positions, which they then proceed to discuss together. Both focus on evidential arguments that are fairly representative of typical contemporary philosophy of religion. In this post, I want to discuss one part of their discussion that I found problematic. Continue reading
In Physics 1.7, Aristotle determined the “number and nature” of the principles of nature. In chapter eight, the penultimate chapter of book one, he discusses the “error” of previous thinkers in denying the reality of change.
“We will no proceed to show that the difficulty of the early thinkers, as well as our own, is solved in this way alone. The first of those who studied science were misled in their search for the truth and the nature of things by their inexperience, which as it were thrust them into another path. So they say that none of the things that are either comes to be or passes out of existence, because what comes to be must do so either from what is or from what is not, both of which are impossible. For what is cannot come to be (because it is already), and from what is not nothing could have come to be (because something must be present as a substratum). So too they exaggerated the consequence of this, and went so far as to deny even the existence of a plurality of things, maintaining that only Being itself is. Such then was their opinion, and such the reason for its adoption” (Physics 1.8, 191a23-33) 
I find the history of philosophical/intellectual development fascinating, almost as fascinating as the philosophical content on its own. The emergence of early Greek philosophy is quite unprecedented in history, and unsurpassable in its significance and influence. The early Greek philosophers were attempting to understand the natural world in which they found themselves, and they were doing so by searching for the “principles” of nature, the explanation of why things were/happened the way they did. This led some of them to adopt quite radical positions. Aristotle, throughout much of the Physics and the rest of his works, takes a sharp and definitive stand of disagreement against these prior philosophers, but here he at least admits a sympathetic understanding of how they went astray. They were, he suggests, “misled . . . by their inexperience”, which is not surprising, considering that they were literally the trail blazers of all western science and philosophy. But, whether or not their error is understandable or not, it still remains error, and it is to this that Aristotle offers his response. Continue reading
Note: This review will also be posted on Amazon. I was given this book by the publishers as a review copy.
If you’ve ever attempted any sort of discussion concerning a “serious” subject (politics, religion, ethics, etc.), you’re probably aware of how frustrating such an endeavor tends to be. Sure, the conversation can usually start out politely enough, but as things get on they (seem) to almost always rapidly deteriorate to heated emotionalism, unchecked biases, ungrounded assertions, flagrant name-calling, unwillingness to actually engage, etc., etc., with the result that both participants go home feeling a good deal more self-superior, and a good deal more dismissive of the other, but nowhere nearer to the actual truth.
The human propensity for rational inquiry is quite astounding. So, however, is its corollary: the human propensity for disagreement. Part of the whole dilemma of the process of human reasoning is how to come to grips with the fact that very often, very many people disagree with us about topics which are extremely significant. Even more, very often the people who do disagree with us are people who are very intelligent in their own right, and seem to have very good reasons for disagreeing with us. Is rationality thus futile, if it leads us to such wildly disparate conclusions?
This, it seems to me, is really the central question of An Atheist and a Christian Walk into a Bar, Continue reading
In Physics 1.6, Aristotle established that the number of fundamental principles of nature must be three. He begins 1.7:
“We will now give our own account, approaching the question first with reference to becoming in its widest sense: for we shall be following the natural order of inquiry if we speak first of common characteristics, and then investigate the characteristics of special cases” (Physics 1.7, 189b30-32) .
Since he is searching for the underlying principles of nature, and since “nature” itself to Aristotle is the principle of motion of things–“a source or cause of being moved and of being at rest in that to which it belongs primarily” (2.1, 192b22-23) –then to understand the underlying principles themselves we must examine the motion of things. And so here he states that he will consider “becoming in its widest sense”, as it applies to all things commonly, before then investigating individual cases. Continue reading
*Note: this post contains spoilers for the book/movie “Silence”.
Last week, I finished Shusaku Endo’s highly acclaimed 1966 novel “Silence”, the long expected movie of which is being released next month (see the trailer here). The book was fantastic–beautifully written, hauntingly profound, and deeply thought provoking. I’m not going to discuss too much of the actual plot here, since I highly recommend reading/seeing it for yourself. Rather I want to consider perhaps the central thematic point of the story: the silence of God (thus the book’s title).
Throughout the novel, as the characters experience extreme hardships, difficulties, and suffering, often times as a direct result of their Christian faith, they are left to wonder: where is God? Where is the God in whom they have placed their trust and hope? Where is the God for whom they are currently offering their lives, having given up everything for the sake of the Gospel? Where is the God who all their lives they have been told is loving, who is supposed to care for His people, who has commanded prayer and promised to answer? Where is this God?
But they are met only with silence. Continue reading
In chapter 5 of his Physics, Aristotle established that the fundamental, underlying principles of natures must be “contraries”. In 1.6, he asks how many are the underlying principles.
“The next question is whether the principles are two or three or more in number. One they cannot be, for there cannot be one contrary. Nor can they be innumerable, because, if so, Being will not be knowable: and in any one genus there is only one contrariety, and substance is one genus: also a finite number is sufficient, and a finite number, such as the principles of Empedocles, is better than an infinite multitude; for Empedocles professes to obtain from his principles all that Anaxagoras obtains from his innumerable principles. Lastly, some contraries are more primary than others, and some arise from others–for example sweet and bitter, white and black–whereas the principles must always remain principles. This will suffice to show that the principles are neither one nor innumerable” (Physics 1.6, 189a11-21) .
So the Philosopher rules out from the start the possibility of the principles of nature being only one in number. This is because he has already shown that the principles must be contraries, but “there cannot be one contrary”. Obviously, a “contrary” must be of something. Hot and cold are contraries, but if just cold existed, then it could not be called a “contrary”, since it would not be contrary to anything. As Aquinas succinctly puts it in his commentary, “nothing is the contrary of itself” (Lectio 11.83) . Aristotle also rules out the possibility of the principles being “innumerable” or infinite in number, giving four brief reasons for this conclusion: First “Because, if so, Being will not be knowable.” If the principles are innumerable, then by definition they cannot be known, and this would render being intelligible. Continue reading