Outlined Version of the Design Argument

Here is an outlined version of Aquinas’s Argument from Design, or his Fifth Way. This is just an outline. The full series of articles can be found here, here, and here. Refer to those for the whole, in depth explanations and defenses of the various premises.

  1. In our universe we experience regular cause-effect relationships, where causes have specific, determinate effects
  2. The only sufficient metaphysical explanation of these cause-effect relationships is the principle of finality, which states that causes are intrinsically directed/ordered to determinate effects as ends
  3. In order for a cause to be intrinsically ordered/directed to a determinate effect as to an end, that effect/end must in some sense exist prior to the action of the cause
  4. But an effect cannot exist in real being prior to the action of the cause, because then the effect would be prior to its cause, which is absurd
  5. So the effect/end must exist in the order of mental being, as an idea, prior to the causal action
  6. Hence the ends of all causal actions must exist in some Supreme Intelligence which directs those causes to their ends.
  7. These ends are intrinsic to the nature/essence of the beings which act causally, so what directs the beings to their ends must be likewise the cause of the existence of those essences/natures, which (per the Second Way) must be a Being of Pure Act, or Being Itself
  8. This is what we call God

Aquinas’s Argument from Design Part 3: The End

In the previous post in this series on Aquinas’s Fifth Way, we introduced and briefly defended the reality of final causation as the only possible sufficient metaphysical explanation for the natural order and regularity of cause-effect relationships. We noted that when some being, even a non-rational being, acts, it must have some effect. If it has no effect, then it has not really acted at all. And the effect must be a specific, determinate effect: this effect rather than any other of the infinite number of possible effects. And in order to explain why the action has this specific, determinate effect rather than any other, it is necessary to posit that there is some reason/end towards which the action itself is intrinsically directed.

We must be clear, however, what we mean by an “end”, “goal”, or “purpose” for which natural things act. In ordinary human language, an end/goal/purpose is something we are consciously aware of, something we choose and seek of our own volition. In this sense, one might object, it is just abundantly obvious that non-rational beings such as a rock or an atom or a star do not act for an end/goal/purpose, precisely because they are non-rational and hence not able to have any conscious desires or intentions. But this objection misunderstands Aquinas’ use of language. Aquinas is not suggesting that the moon, in orbiting the earth, is consciously choosing to do so, or even consciously aware in any way at all. That would be preposterous. Rather, he is just insisting that “orbiting the earth” is something the moon is naturally and intrinsically directed towards by its very nature. (Of course, we know the moon actually orbits the earth because it is affected by gravitational forces. But 1) the moon first must be the type of thing susceptible of being affected by gravitational forces in such a way, and 2) those gravitational forces themselves arise from the activity of subatomic particles, so our analysis of action, which we are here applying to a larger, more macroscopic scale, can just be pushed back to the smaller scale).

So when Aquinas (and Aristotelians generally) claim that natural things are acting for an end/goal/purpose, they are using this language to refer to general “directedness” in those things. Human final causality is just one specific instance of final causality broadly. All agent causes act for ends. Rational creatures such as humans, however, are consciously aware of those ends, and can choose or will which ends they seek. Non-rational creatures are inclined towards their ends automatically, naturally, and determinedly. Aquinas notes this distinction:

“Although every agent, both natural and voluntary, intends an end, still it does not follow that every agent knows the end or deliberates about the end . . . in natural agents the actions are determined, hence it is not necessary to choose those things which are for the end . . . Therefore it is possible for the natural agent to intend the end without deliberation; and to intend this is nothing else than to have a natural inclination to something” [1].

Aquinas also points out that even rational creatures, for whom “deliberation is proper”, sometimes act without deliberation. The clearest example of this is in the distinction biologists make between voluntary and involuntary human actions. Breathing, for instance, is something that is mostly done completely outside of our conscious decision and control. Aquinas makes an analogy between such actions and the actions of non-rational beings. Non-rational beings are not consciously aware of the ends they are pursuing. They do not “think” about it, or deliberate, or decide. To say natural agents act for an end is just to say that it has “a natural inclination to something”, to some determinate effect, as we defended in the previous post.

Aquinas gives a fuller explanation of his view of final causality:

“Every agent, of necessity, acts for an end. For if, in a number of causes ordained to one another, the first be removed, the others must, of necessity, be removed also. Now the first of all causes is the final cause. The reason of which is that matter does not receive form, save in so far as it is moved by an agent; for nothing reduces itself from potentiality to act. But an agent does not move except out of intention for an end. For if the agent were not determinate to some particular effect, it would not do one thing rather than another: consequently in order that it produce a determinate effect, it must, of necessity, be determined to some certain one, which has the nature of an end. And just as this determination is effected, in the rational nature, but the ‘rational appetite,’ which is called the will; so, in other things, it is caused by their natural inclination, which is called the ‘natural appetite'” [2].

Here Aquinas actually designates the final cause as the “first of all causes”, meaning that it is causally prior to and more fundamental than the other types of causes (this will be a significant point which we will return to). How so? Recall (harkening back to my very first series of posts on Aquinas’ First Way) that Aquinas, following Aristotle, posited four causes: material, efficient, formal, and final. The “matter” and “form” of a cause can also be considered in terms of “potency” and “act”, respectively. Indeed, in the passage just quoted, Aquinas uses them almost interchangeably. When something is caused to happen, all four of these causes are needed to fully explain it. For something to “happen” is for a potency to be “reduced to act”, or actualized. The efficient cause is the agent which actualizes the potency. The final cause is that for the sake of which the efficient cause acts. As was argued in the previous post, and as is summarized in Aquinas’ quote here, without a final cause, an efficient cause just could not act. If the agent is not directed towards some determinate effect, then there will be no effect, and hence no action. As Edward Feser puts it, “Unless a cause were inherently directed towards a certain effect or range of effects . . . there would be no reason why it should bring about just that effect or effects. In other words, we cannot make sense of efficient causality without final causality” [3]. And so, he writes, “Final causes are prior to or more fundamental than efficient causes, insofar as they make efficient causes intelligible . . . [The final cause is] that which determines all of the other causes. For something to be directed towards a certain end entails that it has a form appropriate to the realization of that end, and thus a material composition suitable for instantiating that form” [4]. Without a final cause, an efficient cause could not act. And without an efficient cause, a potency could never be reduced to act; and hence nothing at all could ever happen. There could be no cause-effect relations whatsoever.

Aquinas continues:

“Nevertheless it must be observed that a thing tends to an end, by its action or movement, in two ways: first, as a thing, moving itself to the end, as man; secondly, as a thing moved by another to the end, as an arrow tends to a determinate end through being moved by the archer who directs his action to the end. Therefore those things that are possessed of reason, move themselves to an end; because they have dominion over their actions through their free-will, which is the ‘faculty of will and reason.’ But those things that lack reason tend to an end, by natural inclination, as being moved by another and not by themselves; since they do not know the nature of an end as such, and consequently cannot ordain anything to an end, but can be ordained to an end only by another . . . Consequently it is proper to the rational nature to tend to an end, as directing (agens) and leading itself to the end: whereas it is proper to the irrational nature to tend to an end, as directed or led by another, whether it apprehends the end, as do irrational animals, or do not apprehend it, as is the case of those things which are altogether void of knowledge” [5].

Here we have reinforced the distinction between tending towards an end in rational as opposed to non-rational beings. But, Aquinas asserts, those natural, non-ratioanl beings cannot tend themselves towards a certain determinate end; they must be directed by another. This is implicit in our descriptions of finality: we say that a final cause is that end towards which a thin is naturally inclined or ordered or directed, all of these verbs being passive in voice, implying that the subject is acted upon. To say that something is “directed towards” is different from saying that it “directs” or “is directing”. Thus our very use of language points towards the reality of this fact. A non-rational thing cannot direct itself towards its proper end, it must be directed by another.

The principle of finality itself was presented as the only sufficient metaphysical explanation of regular cause-effect relationships. If we do not posit that an agent is naturally inclined or directed towards its effect as to an end, then there is no explanation for why the cause would have that particular effect at all. But this just brings us to another problem in need of explanation. Final causality explains cause-effect relationships, but final causality itself is in need of explanation. We can say that the combination of two hydrogen atoms with a single oxygen atom will result in the production of a water molecule because the atoms are inherently directed towards that effect; but then we must ask how or why they are inherently directed towards that effect. When I walk into a buffet, I know which foods I might desire, and choose which foods I eat based on specific reasons I have for wanting those foods. But an acorn planted in the earth has no knowledge at all of an oak tree. It cannot choose to grow into an oak tree. It cannot direct itself towards becoming an oak tree. Aquinas’s frequent use of the example of an arrow being shot is revealing. An arrow is shot from a bow by an archer. The arrow is aimed towards a specific target. The arrow could hardly have aimed itself; it had to have been aimed at the target by the archer.

So from all of this we have established this much of Aquinas’ Fifth Way:

“The fifth way is taken from the governance of the world. We see that things which lack intelligence, such as natural bodies, act for an end, and this is evident from their acting always, or nearly always, in the same way, so as to obtain the best result. Hence it is plain that not fortuitously, but designedly, do they achieve their end” [6].

What comes next is more complicated. For next Aquinas states:

“Now whatever lacks intelligence cannot move towards an end, unless it be directed by some being endowed with knowledge and intelligence; as the arrow is shot to its mark by the archer. Therefore some intelligent being exists by whom all natural things are directed to their end; and this being we call God” [7].

Before, we indicated the analogy of the arrow as just showing that a cause must be directed to its end by something other than itself. But here Aquinas goes further. The archer, in order to direct and aim the arrow, must know the target, and hence must be “intelligent” or rational. Philosopher Garrigou-Lagrange writes:

“Now, irrational beings cannot tend towards an end, unless they are directed by an intelligence . . . In fact, one thing cannot be directed to another, unless there by a directing cause, which must, of necessity, be intelligent . . . Why? Because an intelligent being alone perceives the raison d’etre of things, and the end is the raison d’etre of the means . . . If, therefore, there were no intelligent designer directing the world, the order and intelligibility existing in things, which science reveals to us, would be the effect of an unintelligibly cause . . . which is absurd. There is, therefore, a supreme intelligent Being, who directs all things to their proper respective ends” [8].

This, however, might seem like quite a leap. To explain and defend it a bit more in depth, we ought to briefly take a step back. We established that it simply must be the case that agent causes are inherently directed towards a determine end. But notice the strangeness of such a statement: the effect of a cause cannot actually exist before the cause itself acts, by definition; for then the effect would be prior to the cause, which is absurd. If an effect were prior to its cause, it would just make no sense to say that it is an effect at all. The cause-effect relationship would be unintelligible. So before the agent acts, its effect cannot actually exist. But the agent must be directed towards the end before it acts, otherwise it could not act at all. But how can something be directed towards something else if the latter does not actually exist? How can an agent cause point towards an end, if that which it points towards is non-existent? It cannot. So we are left with the startling conclusion that the end, as an effect, must somehow, in some sense, exist prior to the action of the cause. If it did not, the cause could not be directed towards it, and thus could not be able to act at all. So in what sense can the effect be said to exist? It cannot actually exist (in the order of “real being), as we said; but it must exist in some sense. The only other option, however, is that it exists in the order of “mental being”, i.e. as an idea in a mind. So philosopher W. Norris Clarke writes:

“The final cause, as determining the action of the efficient cause to produce this effect rather than some other, must be somehow present in the agent, guiding its action, before the effect is actually produced in its own real being. But it cannot be present in the mode of real being, since the effect does not yet exist in its real being until it is actually produced by the agent, at the term of the action. The final cause, therefore, must exist in the agent as a present orientation or dynamic relation to a not-yet-existent-future. Such a presence, as the term of a relation to a not-yet-existent future, cannot itself be that of a real being. Hence it must be present in some mode of mental being, or idea, even though it is not necessarily recognized as such by the immediate agent in which it resides, i.e., in all non-conscious agents . . . Now the only adequate sufficient reason for the presence of this not yet existent future in the form of a mental being within the agent must be that power which alone can make the future present, in the mode of mental being, and that is precisely intelligence, which can make a future effect in its consciousness as a goal to-be-produced and think up appropriate means to achieve this end. The ordering of means to achieve a not-yet-existent end is in fact one of the defining characteristics of intelligence itself” [9].

To go back to my example of the buffet: when I choose to eat, say, the salad, the salad becomes the end/goal of my action, that which causes me to walk up to the buffet, put salad on my plate, and begin to eat it. But as a rational agent, my choice to eat the salad acts as a conscious end because the salad can “exist” as a concept or idea in my mind, which guides my will to choose to eat it. This is how ends work. Edward Feser writes:

“One of the common objections to the very idea of final causation is that it seems to entail that a thing can produce an effect even before that thing exists. Hence to say that an oak tree is the final cause of an acorn seems to entail that the oak tree — which doesn’t exist yet — in some sense causes the acorn to pass through every stage it must reach on the way to becoming an oak, since the oak is the ‘goal’ or natural end of the acorn. But how can this be? Consider those cases were goal-directedness is associated with consciousness, as it is in us. A builder builds a house, and he is able to do so because the effect, the house, exists as an idea in his intellect before it exists in reality. That is the way in which the house serves as the final cause of the actions of the builder as those actions are the efficient cause of the house. Indeed, that is the only way the house can do so. For a cause, to have any efficacy, to must in some sense exist; and if it doesn’t exist in reality, then the only place left for it to exist . . . is in the intellect” [10].

In short, “it is impossible for anything to be directed towards an end unless that end exists in an intellect which directs the thing in question towards it” [11]. What are the implications of this? The only explanation is Aquinas’s conclusion that “some intelligent being exists by whom all natural things are directed to their end”. Or, as Feser puts it, “It follows that the system of ends or final causes that make up the physical universe can only exist at all because there is a Supreme Intelligence or intellect outside that universe which directs things towards their ends” [12].

Several things must be immediately made clear before misunderstanding arises. One instant objection might be: “Well, what directs that agent towards its ends?” But remember that Aquinas’s whole argument only refers to non-rational beings, or “things which lack intelligence.” He is not saying that rational agents require some external cause to determine their ends, because rational agents, qua rational agents, are just by definition things which determine their own ends. Indeed, that was the very distinction he pointed out in the passage quoted earlier, between agents which “move themselves to an end” and agents which “are moved by another to an end”. This Supreme Intelligence, then, is not something which requires a further intellect to determine its ends, since, as an intelligent agent itself, it can determine its own ends, and likewise the ends of all natural things. In short, this argument contends that any action at all requires the principle of finality, but the principle of finality itself is only explicable if there is some Supreme Intelligence in whose Intellect exists all the ends of all natural beings, and who accordingly guides and directs those beings towards those ends, as an archer aiming an arrow. So Clarke concludes:

“This requirement of a planning intelligence, however, can be filled in two ways: (1) if the agent itself is intelligent and can determine itself to its own goals of action; or (2) if the immediate agent itself is not intelligent, then somewhere along the line an intelligent planning cause has constructed the nature of this agent so that it has an innate natural tendency toward the production of this end, even though quite unconscious of why it is doing what it does, since this dynamic orientation is infused deep into its very nature before it can perform the actions leading to this end. These innate goal-oriented tendencies are like incarnate ideas, thought up by another and projected into natures which cannot think their own natural drives — ideas put to work in matter, so to speak, by their intelligent causes, in a way analogously similar to the way a human maker of a machine imbeds the idea of its purpose into the very internal order and ‘being’ of the machine, so that it can carry on its work even if the maker of the machine ceases to exist. Thus every dynamic natural property of a non-conscious agent is an innate ontological ‘intentionality’ toward a determinate type of effect, which it will carry out whenever the conditions of the surrounding environment permit . . . The whole of nature can now be seen in much greater depth as ideas at work in matter, woven into it by a Master Planner” [13].

How astoundingly profound, to come to understand that all of nature, the entirety of the universe, is essentially, in its very being, meaningful, designedintendedintelligible, because, ultimately, idea is more fundamental than physical matter.

But why think this “Supreme Intelligence” is God in the classical sense? Firstly, it just seems obvious that if there is indeed a Supreme Intelligence outside of the universe which is directing all things within the universe towards their particular ends, and is the ultimate guiding cause of all effects, then this Agent could hardly fail to warrant the title “God”.

To move more fully to the God of Classical Theism, however, one would have to already accept the conclusions to the previous four of Aquinas’s Five Ways. Recall what we said earlier about the relation of the four causes, and how the final cause is the most fundamental thereof. The other causes all depend for their operation on the final cause. And so if the other causes point ultimately to a First Cause (as the first and second Ways establish), that First Cause itself would have to be identical to the Supreme Intelligence which directs all final causes. Final causes, as we’ve said, are inherent within the nature/essence of things. A thing, by its essence, is naturally directed towards its determinate ends/effects. But an essence can only be really existent if it has been actualized in existence, if its essence has been joined to an act of existing, by that First Cause whose essence and existence are identical, who is Existence Itself. So it must be that this First Cause, which is Existence Itself, which brings all beings and their essences into existence, is the same Being which is the Supreme Intelligence that imbues those essences with their intrinsic teleology. To actualize an essence is to cause it to exist; and, as we’ve seen, such causal action would require an end. And as Feser points out, “In that case there would have to be a higher intelligence directing that potency to its end, and we would be off on exactly the sort of regress that, for reasons we have already seen, must in Aquinas’s view terminate in a first member” [14]. So the Supreme Intelligence must be identical to the First Cause, Being Itself, Pure Act, who is God. And the Fifth Way alone successfully establishes that this Being is truly personal, in the sense of being intelligent, rational. Indeed, since all beings derive from Him, and derive their action and ends from Him, we can say that this Being is the most truly and fully rational Being in existence. And so Garrigou-Lagrange states that “He must be Thought itself, self-subsisting Intellection” [15]. And this Being we can rightly call God.

But note the significance of this conclusion. It is somewhat common to hear a narrative such as: “People only believed in gods because in ancient times they didn’t understand nature, so they explained everything by way of divine agency.” The idea is that everything now can be explained entirely in natural terms, and hence there is no reason to appeal to divine agency. Take, for example, evolution. Popular atheist writer Richard Dawkins misunderstands the Fifth Way, and takes it as claiming that since life looks designed, there must be a designer. He then responds that life may look designed, but it is explained by way of natural selection and evolution, so we have no need to appeal to a designer. Aquinas actually summarizes this type of objection:

“It is superfluous to suppose that what can be accounted for by a few principles has been produced by many. But it seems that everything we see in the world can be accounted for by other principles, supposing God did not exist. For all natural things can be reduced to one principle which is nature; and all voluntary things can be reduced to one principle which is human reason, or will. Therefore there is no need to suppose God’s existence” [16].

So the question becomes, can we explain everything by naturalistic means only? Is everything ultimately reducible to the one explanatory principle of “nature”? There is a sense in which the answer is possibly yes. For natural sciences work, especially now, on somewhat of a horizontal plane. And on that horizontal plane itself, everything may be ultimately explicable in terms of purely natural means. A biologist, for example, studying the life of trees may not have any need whatsoever to appeal to final causation to explain the growth of an acorn into an oak tree. “God did it” is not only a very shallow scientific explanation, it’s also detrimental to the natural science itself, which studies the realm of secondary causes and their processes. But just because a biologist, for her purposes, can explain the growth of the tree in a completely mechanistic way that is sufficient for her scientific inquiry, does not mean that such a mechanistic description will be the entirety of the explanation. In other words, the biologist has not given a fully complete explanation, at all. As we argued in the previous post, the scientist, for one thing, just assumes the regularity and causal structure of nature and works from there. But a metaphysician is seeking a somewhat deeper, underlying explanation, and so the scientist’s description will not be sufficient. The natural scientist is working on the horizontal realm of secondary causes, but the metaphysician is seeking first causes, which themselves explain those secondary causes. And the metaphysician will discover, as the Five Ways show, that, at bottom, there simply cannot be a purely natural explanation. Nature cannot be the ultimate explanation, for “since nature works for a determinate end under the direction of a higher agent [as the Fifth Way proves], whatever is done by nature must needs be traced back to God, as to its first cause” [17]. But also note that this answer preserves the dignity of secondary causes. The Thomist can fully agree with and support the biologist who concludes that the diversity of life is the result of natural selection and evolutionary processes, because the Thomist agrees that nature really is a principle of things that can be appealed to as explanation. It is just not the ultimate explanation.

And to reiterate, the Fifth Way (contra Dawkins’ interpretation) is just not saying anything at all about the apparent “design” in living things. That, as we explained in the first post, would be an instance of extrinsic teleology whereas the Fifth Way is working with intrinsic teleology, and as a result is far stronger and more certain. The Fifth Way is not claiming “life looks designed so it must have a designer!” Rather, the Fifth Way is arguing that actually, in order for nature to work at all, in order for there to be any sort of cause-effect relationships and hence any sort of causal action whatsoever, there has to be an Ultimate Intelligence guiding all natural things to their proper ends. And this Ultimate Intelligence is what we call God.

And so we have reached the End, having concluded, after over a year, our series introducing and defending Aquinas’s Five Ways.

 

Notes

[1]. Thomas Aquinas. De Principiis Naturae. Translated as THE PRINCIPLES OF NATURE TO BROTHER SYLVESTER by R. A. Kocourek. Html-edited by Joseph Kenny, O.P. <http://dhspriory.org/thomas/DePrincNaturae.htm&gt;. 3.19.

[2]. Aquinas, Thomas. Summa Theologica. 1265-1274. Trans. Fathers of the English Dominican Province. Coyote Canyon Press, 2010. ebook. I-II, Q. 1, Art. 2.

[3].  Feser, Edward. Aquinas. London: Oneworld Publications, 2009. Print, 18.

[4]. Ibid.

[5]. Aquinas. Summa. I-II, Q. 1, Art. 2.

[6]. Aquinas. Summa. I, Q. 2, Art. 3.

[7]. Ibid.

[8]. Garrigou-Lagrange, R. God, His Existence and His Nature, Volume I: A Thomistic Solution of Certain Agnostic Antinomies. Translated from the Fifth French Edition by Dom Bede Rose, O.S.B., D.D. St. Louis: B. Herder Book Co., 1939. ebook.

[9]. Clarke, W. Norris. The One and the Many: A Contemporary Thomistic Metaphysics. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 2001. Print, 204.

[10]. Feser. Aquinas. 116-117.

[11]. Ibid. 117.

[12]. Feser, Edward. The Last Superstition: A Refutation of the New Atheism. South Bend: St. Augustine’s Press, 2008. ebook.

[13]. Clarke. The One and the Many. 205.

[14]. Feser. Aquinas. 118.

[15]. Garrigou-Lagrange. God, His Existence and His Nature. ebook.

[16]. Aquinas. Summa. I, Q. 2, Art. 3.

[17]. Ibid.

First Conference Paper Presentation: The Metaphysical Possibility of Creation Ex Nihilo

This past weekend I had the opportunity to present a paper at the undergraduate Mid-Atlantic Philosophy Conference, hosted by Prometheus Journal (an undergraduate philosophy journal) at Johns Hopkins University. It was an incredible experience, and I am extremely grateful to have been able to attend and present. In addition to getting the valuable experience of presenting a paper, I was also able to listen to some great and thought provoking papers from fellow students.

My paper should be published on Prometheus’ online journal at some point in the near future. When it is, I’ll provide a link. Until then, I’ll post the abstract of my paper below, as well as an (admittedly low quality) video of my presentation and the commentary and question and answer session afterwards. The title of my paper was “The Metaphysical Possibility of Creation Ex Nihilo.” Here’s the abstract:

This paper seeks to examine two seemingly contradictory concepts, one a metaphysical principle, the other a theological doctrine, as well as their historio-philosophical backgrounds and contexts, and attempts to discover whether or not they are reconcilable, i.e. whether they can be held together. The concepts in question are that of ex nihilo nihil fit, and that of creatio ex nihilo, respectively. The former was a principle deeply embedded in the process of Greek natural philosophy, and it led nearly all Greek philosophers to conclude that matter could never have come into being from nothing. On the basis of this Greek understanding of the principle, the first half of this paper will formulate an argument that summarizes the metaphysical problem of creatio ex nihilo. The paper will then argue that Aquinas’ analysis of creation, set within his metaphysical framework, offers one possible solution to that problem. In particular, this paper will emphasize that Aquinas’ distinction between the causal powers of finite beings as opposed to that of infinite being is the key to defending the metaphysical possibility of creatio ex nihilo.

As some readers may notice, the thrust of my paper was very much directed against certain arguments for naturalism which I’ve written about briefly before on this blog (see the Epicurean Cosmological Argument or the argument for naturalism from Material Causation and Creation Ex Nihilo), but treat in much more depth in the paper.

Here’s the video (Commentary/Q&A begins at around 39:41):

I was extremely grateful for the commentator from Prometheus who was exceptionally kind and engaging with my paper, as well as the others who asked questions afterwards. I’d like to provide a few more responses here, after having had some time to think about the questions more in depth:

The commentator’s first point was to bring up Heraclitus as a possible counter example to a pretty strong claim I make at the beginning of my paper: that until the birth of the modern period, the “ex nihilo nihil fit” principle was unchallenged and universally accepted. The commentator admitted that this was a relatively minor issue, but I think he was right to bring it up, since my claim was pretty strong, so strong, in fact, that even just one example would suffice to falsify it. The commentator referenced a discussion between Heraclitus and Cratylus in Book 4 of Aristotle’s Metaphysics. He says that this discussion seems to indicate a “tension” between their view and the view which I take as firmly established in the Greek tradition, namely that something cannot come from nothing. Here’s the full passage from Aristotle:

“Because they [earlier Greek philosophers} saw that all this world of nature is in movement, and that about that which changes no true statement can be made, they said that of course, regarding that which everywhere in every respect is changing, nothing could be truly affirmed. It was this belief that blossomed into the most extreme views above mentioned, that of the professed Heracliteans, such as was held by Cratylus, who finally did not think it right to say anything but only moved his finger, and criticized Heraclitus for saying that it is impossible to step twice into the same river; for he thought one could not do it even once” [1].

I do not take this as an explicit denial of the ex nihilo nihil fit principle, nor do any commentators that I can find; nor, indeed, does Aristotle himself seem to. The broad context of the passage is in Aristotle’s extended defense of the principle of non-contradiction, which he associates with a refutation of the belief that all things are perpetually in motion. He understands Heraclitus to hold this latter view, and says that such a position forces Heraclitus to hold that something both is and is not at the same time, which is a denial of the principle of non contradiction. One might argue that Heraclitus’ position implies or requires an ultimate denial of ex nihilo nihil fit, but Heraclitus himself never asserts this–indeed we have writings from him in which he claims that the universe is eternal and uncreated (which I quote in my paper). Here the issue is not ex nihilo nihil fit, but rather the principle of non contradiction.

Next is a question about the relation between essence and form in Aquinas. The commentator understood essence as being “strictly form” within the context of Aquinas’s hylomorphic (matter-form composition) view of reality. From this, I think he derives two distinct questions. The first question is about my use of the phrase “limited essence”, which he asks me to clarify. I could be mistaken, but from what I can tell, I think his question is directed towards why an essence would be “limited” if what is actually limiting is matter. In other words, if a thing is composed of matter and form, then matter is what limits the form, not the other way around. Since he understood essence and form to be identical, I think his question was why I would call the essence limited, rather than the matter. As I’ll explain below (and touched on a bit in the video), Aquinas does not take form and essence to be identical. But even if he did, I think the phrase “limited essence” would still be appropriate, in the sense that the essence would be limited by matter, not that the essence itself “limits”.

But Aquinas distinguishes form and essence, which was the point of the last question. In my paper, I explain that Aquinas has a sort of dichotomy between act potency relationships. On the one hand is the form/matter composition, and on the other is the essence/existence composition. In my paper, I state that in the latter composition, form is the actuality to the potency of matter; and in the latter composition, existence is the actuality to the potency of essence. Since the commentator took essence and form to be interchangeable terms for the same thing, he rightly saw a tension arise: if essence and form are the same, how could it be potency in one sense and actuality in another?

Now, for Aquinas, form and essence are certainly related, but not exactly identical. The essence of a thing includes both its form and matter–since to know what a man is (and hence know its essence) involves knowing that man is a material being, and hence knowing that man has a form instantiated in matter. Aristotle does not quite make this distinction, but Aquinas, drawing from some earlier Islamic thinkers, extrapolates it. This is seen especially in the question of angels. Aquinas held angels to be pure forms, not instantiated in any matter. Since he takes matter to be potency, the question is how angels can actually exist not instantiated in matter. If form is actuality, and angels are pure form, would this not imply that angels are pure act? But only God is pure act. So Aquinas posits that the potency of angels comes not from matter, but from their essence, which is actualized by an act of existing.

The first audience question was how God, being Pure Act, could possibly cause change in the world. This is a substantial objection to the First Way, and I’ve actually written a post devoted exclusively to it, so I’ll just link to that here.

The final question was about interpretation of substance in Aristotelian substantial change. In particular, the question was about an example I used to illustrate substantial change. I think this is a relatively minor issue, however, since the questioner acknowledged that another example I used for substantial change does work, and hence my point on substantial change in general stands.

In all, it was a fantastic experience. Thanks to Prometheus and the philosophy department at Johns Hopkins for making it possible!

Notes

[1]. McKeon, Richard, editor. The Basic Works of Aristotle. New York: Random House, Inc, 1941. Print. Metaphysics 4.5, 1010a6-14.

Aquinas’s Argument from Design Part 2: Final Causality

In the first post in this series on Aquinas’s Fifth Way, I introduced and explored several historical examples of different “teleological arguments,” of which the Fifth Way is one. In this post, I will make some final distinctions between the Fifth Way and other teleological arguments, and then begin laying out, explaining, and defending Aquinas’s argument.

For the most part, the majority of teleological arguments make use of what we might call “extrinsic” teleology, whereas the Fifth Way is based upon intrinsic teleology; it is largely for this reason that I think the latter is much stronger and more successful than the former. To grasp this, we might consider an example: Suppose you’re walking along a beach and come across some sticks arranged into a word. The word, qua word, is teleological; it conveys meaning, “points to” some meaning beyond itself. The sticks, on the other hand, in themselves are not teleological, at least in relation to the word. A stick, in itself, does not signify anything beyond itself (what it is), unless such further signification is imposed upon it externally, as in the case when the sticks are arranged to depict a word. So, when you walk on the beach and come across the sticks arranged into a specific word which conveys a meaning, you most likely conclude that some rational agent, some intelligence, some human person, was causally responsible for arranging the sticks. Because sticks in themselves do not convey a meaning beyond themselves, and yet because they have been externally arranged to convey a meaning beyond themselves, you conclude that some intentional and purposeful agent has imposed the meaning.

This is a simplistic example of what many teleological arguments are essentially. Continue reading

An Augustinian Argument from Desire

What follows is, I believe, a novel argument for the existence of God. It is drawn almost entirely from the writings of St. Augustine, but though the line of thought is his, he does not seem to use it as a positive instance of natural theology. It is in this sense that the argument, as I’m using it here, is somewhat new.

Naturally theology is often divided into distinctive branches or types of arguments. These include families such as cosmological arguments, moral arguments, or teleological arguments, along with some other, less common ones as well. Of this latter sort, I’d suggest, there is the branch of “arguments from desire”. I consider these as less common just in relation to professional philosophical work; but, among popular apologetics, they are seen more frequently. Furthermore, they are quite common just in terms of their natural appeal and emotional effectiveness. It seems plausible that a good number of people believe in God and subscribe to some religious tradition on the basis of a kind of implicit, perhaps even subconscious argument from desire within them. Continue reading

Aquinas’s Argument from Design for the Existence of God: Introduction

At long last, we begin the first post on the fifth and final of Aquinas’s Five Ways, or arguments for the existence of God. Outlines of the previous four Ways can be found here, here, here, and here, respectively. The first three, as I’ve explained multiple times previously, are considered Thomistic cosmological arguments. The Fourth Way is really a unique type of argument in its own right, although it certainly has precedent in earlier arguments, including one from Augustine. It also has certain features in common with axiological (moral) arguments, although contains very important differences.

The Fifth Way is commonly categorized as a “Teleological Argument”, or an Argument from Design. Design Arguments have quite a long and impressive history going all the way back to Ancient Greece, to Socrates and perhaps even earlier. The general concept received treatment, at least implicitly, from Plato, Aristotle, some Stoics, and medieval Islamic, Jewish, and Christian philosophers. Modern philosophers such as Newton and Leibniz likewise proposed design arguments. But modern forms of the argument, while perhaps maintaining the same spirit as the classical and medieval versions, underwent somewhat drastic development, particularly in relation to the natural sciences. In fact, contemporary incarnations of the argument are, for the most part, almost entirely dependent upon, and hence most susceptible of criticism by way of, certain interpretations of findings from biology or cosmology. Unfortunately, many who are only familiar with these contemporary design arguments unjustifiably assume that all design arguments are essentially the same and hence guilty of the same or at least similar faults. In this post we will give a brief overview of some different design arguments before introducing Aquinas’s version, which, I think, is not only significantly unique, but also the best of all design arguments, precisely because, in its uniqueness, it does not commit some of the same mistakes as others. Continue reading

Beginning Metaphysics III: Introduction to Essence and Existence

Suppose you walk outside one day and suddenly come across some strange object you’ve never encountered before. You’re first thought will most likely be, “what in the world is that?” This question of what something is, as simple as it may seem, is extremely profound. For as soon as we ask what something is, as soon as we pose the question “what is it?” or “what is X”, we have embarked upon a metaphysical journey.

So what’s so special about the question of “what is it”? Suppose that, after asking the question about the strange object in front of you, a friend who’s with you responds “That is a giraffe”. Disregarding the justified curiosity concerning what in the world a giraffe is doing outside your home, we must admit that the answer given us is intelligible. Continue reading