Mon, 02 Dec 2024 01:56:03 -0600WeeblySun, 28 Aug 2022 20:46:03 GMThttp://robkoons.net/the-rigorous-thomist/august-28th-2022I am moving my blog to a new site: analyticthomist.com I will keep my old posts here, at least for the time being. But please visit my new site, hosted by WordPress. You can subscribe there.]]>Sun, 14 Aug 2022 19:58:19 GMThttp://robkoons.net/the-rigorous-thomist/the-fifth-way-why-a-first-cause-is-intelligentHere are some of the difficulties in making sense of the Fifth Way:
 
1. The gap problem seems especially severe. The only conclusion that seems to follow is that every unintelligent natural substance has an intelligent cause. This could be a large number of finite intelligences.

2. No good reason is given for the crucial inference from natural teleology to intelligence. What’s the middle term supposed to be? Given the relatively deflationary understanding of final causation that Aristotle and Aquinas share, there doesn’t seem to be any definitional connection between something’s acting for an end and its being directed by an intelligence to that end.

3. What’s the relationship supposed to be between the Fifth Way and the other four? Are we supposed to be relying on the conclusions of the other ways? If so, how? Is it intended to add intelligence only to the characteristics of a first cause, or is it also supposed to provide some reason to suppose that there is just one first cause?
 
Starting with 3, my guess is that the Fifth Way is supposed to provide us with information about the first cause (or causes) whose existence has been established in the first four ways. This is suggested by the Reply to the second objection in this article (STh I.q2.a3). If so, this helps with the gap problem. The Fifth Way is not intended to stand on its own but to extend the arguments of the preceding Ways.
 
In SCG I.44, in which Aquinas argues for God’s intelligence, there is a passage that closely parallels the fifth way (paragraph 7). In paragraphs 4 and 6 of that article, Thomas infers God’s intelligence from the intelligence of some of His creatures. In particular, in paragraph 6, Thomas appeals to the same thesis that is the conclusion of the Fourth Way, namely, that God possesses all perfections possessed by any existing thing. He asserts that intelligence is a perfection, and consequently God must be intelligent, given the existence of intelligent creatures. We could think of the Fifth Way as simply plugging a loophole. Suppose that a critic objects to the claim that intelligence is truly a perfection, as opposed to a mere by-product of the interaction of natural bodies). The Fifth Way could provide independent support for the intelligence of any First Cause.
 
Alternatively, we could interpret the Fifth Way as an a fortiori argument: if even unintelligent finite substances need an intelligent cause, how much more so must the cause of an intelligent finite substance be intelligent? The Reply to the second objection does allude to the fact that human intelligences need an intelligent cause, since they are changeable, finite, and contingent.
 
Let’s turn to the middle term problem (problem #2 above). The parallel passage in SCG I.44, paragraph 7 provides the key. “Again, that which tends determinately to some end either has set (praestituit) itself that end or the end has been set for it by another.” This is a kind of PSR or principle of causality, and it doesn’t mention intelligence at all (whether absent in the effect or present in the cause). Applying this principle in the way modeled by the first four ways yields the conclusion that there must be some agent that sets its own end. This interpretation has the advantage of bringing the Fifth Way in line with the first three Ways.
 
How is it possible for a substance to set its own end? Prima facie this is impossible, since anything a substance does (including ‘setting’ or ‘preastituting’ something) is explainable as directed to that substance’s end. The only solution to this problem would involve something’s having the Good itself as its end, ‘setting’ itself toward that end simply by grasping the good as good. Only this could eliminate the element of arbitrariness in the constitution of the First Cause’s end. Moreover, this good that is grasped must be identical to the substance itself, or else it would be being moved by something else and so wouldn’t be a first cause in the order of final causation. Thus, a First Cause must be Goodness itself, grasping itself as good in an act of self-understanding.
 
The Fifth Way, therefore, explains why the First Cause couldn’t be an unintelligent thing, possessing some end “by nature.” Why couldn’t a First Cause be its own end, acting for the sake of itself naturally but unintelligently? How could such an unintelligent first cause cause something else? It would have to be naturally directed toward causing such an effect, and the fact that it is so directed would be arbitrary and beg for a further explanation. Such unintelligent direction toward an end would be a brute fact and therefore incompatible with the First Cause’s being necessary in and through itself. There would be an element of contingency or in-principle explainability about the First Cause’s so acting. Such a First Cause wouldn’t be in principle uncausable, since we could imagine something else causing it to be directed toward creating the actual creature.
 
In contrast, if the First Cause is intelligent, then it can create things simply because they are good (by way of participating in God’s goodness). No unexplained contingency enters into the process, except for the contingency of rational free choice. The contingency of rational free choice is compatible with a strong principle of causality or PSR, since each rational choice can be adequately explained in terms of necessary facts (i.e., the intrinsic value of the action taken).
 
We can appeal to a principle stated in Thomas’s Commentary on Physics II.8. “But because they [unintelligent creatures] always act in the same way it is clear that they do not act by intellect but by nature. The artisan judges the form of the thing built and can vary it.” Both intelligent and unintelligent agents are determined to act as they do by their ends, but unintelligent agents always purse these ends in the same way, while intelligent agents can purse the same end in different ways, since an intelligent agent can grasp intellectually which actions are and which are not effective means for the end, and the intelligent agent can choose any of the many effective means (if there are many such).
 
A first cause that causes other things to exist (i.e., a first cause that acts as a creator) must be intelligent, since it must act in more than one way in pursuit of its end. Every such first cause effectively pursues its end simply be existing in a state of perfection. To create is to pursue that end in at least one additional way. To create multiple creatures because each of them is good in some way is to exercise intelligent choice in still further way.
 
One might question whether it is true that each unintelligent agent must pursue its end in a single way. Why couldn’t it have many ways of doing so, with the actual way or ways being selected not by intelligent choice but by random chance? If that were to be the case, then there would have to be some objective probability of the first cause’s causing any particular creature. We could then ask why the objective probability has the value it does. This would require some further cause to “set” this objective probability to its actual value. Only a rational and perfectly free agent can be a genuinely uncaused agent, since it can choose its own actions in light of its knowledge of the value of the chosen actions, where both the knowledge and the value are necessary in themselves.
 
]]>Mon, 06 Jun 2022 00:33:49 GMThttp://robkoons.net/the-rigorous-thomist/using-aristotles-physics-ii8-to-elucidate-the-fifth-waySt. Thomas’s Fifth Way remains something of a mystery to me. Clearly it begins with the fact that unintelligent natural bodies act for determinate ends, and it reaches the conclusion that the first cause of these bodies is intelligent. But what is the basis for introducing the concept of intelligence? What for Thomas is the essence of being intelligent?
 
We may get some help on this question by looking at Thomas’s commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, in particular, Physics II.8, where Aristotle defends the application of teleology to the world of nature. It is clear, I think, that both Aristotle and Thomas have a somewhat deflationary understanding of ‘acting for a purpose’ (telos or finis). Any entity that, by virtue of its nature, has a set of causal powers and potentialities can be said to be acting ‘for the sake of’ manifesting those powers in the appropriate circumstances. See, for example, Summa Theologiae I.II Q1, a2:
 
“But an agent does not move except from intention of an end; for if an agent were not determined to some effect it would not do this rather than that. Therefore, to produce a determinate effect it must be determined to something certain which has the nature of an end.”
 
So, why think that when some natural thing is ordered to an end that intelligence is somehow involved? In Physics II.8, Aristotle notes that natural things pursue their ends “without deliberation.” This is how Aquinas analyzes the point in Lecture 13, paragraph 259: “But because they [natural bodies] always act in the same way it is clear that they do not act by intellect but by nature [non ex intellectu sed per naturam]. The artisan [in contrast] judges the form of the thing built and can vary it.” So, the key idea is the variability of the products of an intelligent agent. An unintelligent agent always pursues its end in the same way, regardless of circumstances. An intelligent agent, in contrast, can pursue the same end in many different ways, selecting a satisfactory way in light of varying circumstances.
 
So, in order to infer the existence of an intelligent cause behind the phenomena of nature, we need two things: (i) some evidence of constant ends or goals across some range of natural species, and (ii) extreme variability in the way that these differing species attain these common goals.
 
As Thomas points out in the Fifth Way, natural bodies do not just seek their proper end—they achieve that end very frequently (frequentius). Achieving this end requires the cooperation of the body’s environment. For a natural substance to exercise its natural powers, there must be mutual manifestation partners (as C. B. Martin labeled them). For each of a substance’s natural active powers, there must be substances with complementary passive potentialities. To exercise a power to heat, there must be something with the potential of being heated. And, conversely, for each natural passive power, there must be substances in the environment with the corresponding active power. Each domain of mutual manifestation partners exhibits a single, common end: the end of mutual cooperation in the realization of the constituent partners’ natural ends. This common end is achieved in a variety of ways, one way for each species of substance in the domain.
 
Consequently, the fine-tuning of each domain requires an intelligent cause. Since the observable universe constitutes a system of harmonious, mutually tolerant domains, we can reasonably infer that there is a single intelligence at the root of the universe.
]]>Sun, 01 May 2022 21:44:37 GMThttp://robkoons.net/the-rigorous-thomist/why-aristotle-couldnt-avoid-metaphysics-in-the-nicomachean-ethics-part-iAristotle’s vast corpus covers nearly every topic in philosophy and much of what we would know count as social or human sciences (political theory, economics, rhetoric and communication, literary criticism, linguistics). The extent of his productivity inevitably raises questions of an architectonic sort: how does the whole edifice fit together? I’d like to address briefly one question of this sort: in particular, how do Aristotle ethical works (the Nicomachean and Eudemian Ethics, and the Politics) relate to his work on metaphysics and natural philosophy? For our purposes today, I will focus exclusively on The Nicomachean Ethics. In particular, I will examine the first seven chapters of Book I.
 
I take it that for Aristotle ‘ethics’ and ‘politics’ are essentially synonyms, differing only in connotation. Since human beings are by nature political animals, the study of the human good (i.e., ethics) must coincide with the study of the common good (politics). For this talk, I will simply refer to this science as ‘ethics’.
 
In chapter 1, Aristotle makes clear that ethics is the science which studies the greatest human good. This immediately raises the question of whether ethics is a theoretical or practical science. In chapter 1, Aristotle doesn’t yet commit himself, calling the study an ‘episteme or dynamis’, where ‘dynamis’ (a power or faculty) would seem to suggest a practical science.
 
Practical and theoretical sciences differ in their ultimate ends. A theoretical science aims ultimately for the truth about some subject matter. It contributes to human happiness by providing us such truths as objects of our understanding and contemplation. So, theoretical sciences do contribute to the human good, but their definition is that of the pursuit of certain truths for their own sake.
 
In contrast, a practical science is one whose ultimate end is the human good itself. Does this mean that a practical science is indifferent to the truth as such? Would a practical science embrace a fiction or a falsehood if accepting it would make the greatest possible contribution to the human good? I take it that Aristotle is confident that this question is merely hypothetical, relying on an impossible antecedent. The most effective practical science is one that reliably uncovers the truth about the human good. In chapter 1, Aristotle affirms that our knowledge (gnosis) of the good is of great practical importance, since through our knowledge of the good we “have a target” to aim at, like the archer. So, both practical sciences and theoretical sciences aim at the truth.
 
The difference consists in the ultimate purpose of the science. For a practical science, truth is pursued for the sake of the good, while in a theoretical science, truth is pursued for its own sake. Any significant truth is something whose contemplation is good for human beings, but this fact is incidental to the purpose of a theoretical science. For a practical science, in contrast, truths are pursued only to the extent that they contribute to the guidance of our actions toward our good.
 
Metaphysics and natural philosophy (the subjects of the Metaphysics and the Physics) are paradigmatically theoretical sciences. Consequently, the distinction between ethics and metaphysics is a deep one. Neither science can be subordinated to another. For one science to be subordinated to another, either both are theoretical or both are practical. For example, the science of harmonics is subordinate to arithmetic, since harmonics draws its first principle from arithmetic. In this case, both are theoretical sciences. In the practical sphere, the science of horsemanship is subordinate to military strategy, since the use of horses is governed by the more ultimate end of military victory.
 
We would expect to see metaphysics and ethics differing both in their starting points and in their ultimate destinations, and this expectation is largely borne out by comparing the Nicomachean Ethics with Aristotle’s Metaphysics. In particular, we can see in Book I consistent effort on Aristotle’s part not to rely on specifically metaphysical principles or conclusions. There are, however, two prominent exceptions, to be found in chapters 6 and 7 of the first book. In these chapters, we see Aristotle compelled, albeit reluctantly, to bring to bear his specifically metaphysical knowledge.
 
There is, undoubtedly, in chapter 2 some overlap between ethics and metaphysics. I have in mind Aristotle’s rejection of the possibility of an infinite regress of means for further means: “We do not choose everything for the sake of something else, for at that rate the process would go on to infinity, so that our desire would be empty and vain.” Clearly, this parallels Aristotle’s rejection of infinite regresses of efficient and final causation in both the Physics and the Metaphysics. However, he does not in chapter 2 reject the possibility of an infinite regress in final causation on metaphysical grounds, but rather on the grounds that our desire in that case would be “empty and vain,” a specifically ethical or axiological consideration.
 
In chapter 6, Aristotle turns a critical eye on Plato’s theory of the Forms. This is undoubtedly a metaphysical theory, but it is relevant here because of Plato’s conception of the Form of the Good, which plays a central role both in Plato’s metaphysics and in his ethical theory. In fact, if there were such a thing as the Form of the Good, the distinction between metaphysics and ethics would utterly collapse. Understanding the Form of the Good for its own sake would be the central and definitive task of both ethics and metaphysics.
 
Consequently, Aristotle is forced at this point to consider a metaphysical question: is there such a Form of the Good? Nonetheless, in this chapter Aristotle provides several specifically ethical objections to the theory of the Form of the Good, objections that we do not find in the Metaphysics. For one, Aristotle argues that if there were a Form of the Good, there would be only one practical science (i.e., the metaphysics of goodness), but in fact there are many such science, including agriculture, medicine, and military strategy.  All these practical sciences are subordinate to ethics, but the fact of their existence supports Aristotle’s metaphysical thesis that goodness is attributed analogously and not univocally of different kinds of things. Just as ‘being is said in many ways,’ so is ‘goodness said in many ways.’ The diversity of practical science points to a diversity of goods that is inconsistent with Plato’s theory.
 
Aristotle also gives a more direct argument for the diversity of goods, pointing to the many different things that we can reasonably seek for their own sake, including honor, wisdom, and pleasure. If goodness were one and simple, then each of these kinds of goodness would have a common definition or account. And yet clearly pleasure and wisdom are good in different ways. Their goodness cannot be reduced to a common denominator.
 
However, in addition to these specifically ethical arguments, Aristotle feels compelled to appeal to metaphysical objections to the Form of the Good, objections that do have parallels in the Metaphysics and other texts. I count three such arguments:
 
1.The good transcends the categories of things, as Aristotle enumerates them. There are good people and other substances, good quantities, good qualities, good places, good times, good relationships, and so on. One Form cannot be present in the same way in things belonging to such fundamentally different ontological categories.

2.The form of the good cannot be a paradigm of goodness, since this would require the good to be both (i) eternal and world-transcending, and (ii) just like all other good things, albeit to a greater degree. However, being eternal and other-worldly would not make the Form of the Good better than all other goods—it would just make it radically incommensurable with them.
​
3.The ‘third man’ problem. If The Man Itself (the Form of Man) and particular men agree with each other precisely in being men, then we are left with no explanation of how the Form of Humanity can be human, unless we posit a further Form of Humanity shared by this first Form of Humanity and all particular men, resulting in an infinite regress.
 
Aristotle tries to cut short his discussion of these objections on the grounds that “perfect precision about them would be more appropriate to another branch of philosophy” (i.e., metaphysics). Nonetheless, a certain quantity of metaphysical knowledge is needed in our ethical investigations, if only to preserve ethics from contamination by bad metaphysics.

]]>Sun, 13 Feb 2022 23:24:50 GMThttp://robkoons.net/the-rigorous-thomist/defending-the-grim-reaperI've received some criticisms lately directed toward my version of the Grim Reaper argument for causal finitism. The criticism comes from Alex Malpass and Joe Schmid, My argument depends heavily on a version of David Lewis's Patchwork Principle.

Malpass and Schmid argue (on Schmid's Majesty of Reason web site) that theists must reject the Patchwork Principle, since it seems to entail the existence of a world in which nothing occurs except pointless suffering. It might be supposed that theists hold such a world to be metaphysically impossible. (I'm not so sure--a spacetime world could be filled with suffering, while that suffering might find its point and purpose in a separate spacetime continuum, as in a multiverse. However, I'll concede the point here for the sake of argument.)

Malpass and Schmid are right to point out that the Patchwork Principle needs to be qualified. Here is a plausible version:

Patchwork Principle
If (a) there is a world w1 containing a scenario S, (b) a world w2 containing enough non-overlapping regions of spacetime to accommodate an infinite regress of S-scenarios, (c) an infinite regress of S-scenarios would not violate the principle of causality (i.e., it wouldn’t involve any absolutely uncaused events), and (d) there is no necessary being with necessarily both the causal power and the inclination to prevent the existence of infinite regresses of S-scenarios, then: there is a world w3 in which there is an infinite regress of S-scenarios.

This doesn’t “beg the question” because including clause (d) does not entail that there is any necessary being at all. In fact, it presumes that, if there were such a being, it wouldn’t be necessarily disposed to prevent infinite regresses,

The Grim Reaper does not involve any violations of causality, so condition (c) is irrelevant. So, the correct conclusion should be the disjunction: either (i) infinite causal regresses are impossible (because they cannot be fit into a possible spacetime structure), or (ii) there is a necessary being with the power and inclination to prevent infinite causal regresses.

So, neither disjunct will be acceptable to the atheist,]]>Sun, 06 Feb 2022 20:05:05 GMThttp://robkoons.net/the-rigorous-thomist/the-fifth-way-and-john-of-damascusThe text of the Fifth Way in the Summa Theologiae (I Q2 a3) is quite elliptical. It's not easy to extract an argument from it. The first part of the Fifth Way seems to give us the sub-conclusion that there is, for each unintelligent natural body, a directing intelligence. The argument then concludes with the statement: "Therefore, some intelligent being (intelligens) exists by whom all natural things are directed to their end." How does Thomas bridge the gap from an intelligent being for each natural body to the conclusion that there is some intelligence that directs all natural things to an end? 

I find it helpful to look at parallel passages in other Thomistic texts. Here, for example, is a passage from the Summa Contra Gentiles, Book 1, chapter 13:

[35] Damascene proposes another argument for the same conclusion taken from the government of the world (rerum) [ De fide orthodoxa I, 3]. Averroes likewise hints at it [In II Physicorum ]. The argument runs thus. Contrary and discordant things cannot, always or for the most part (pluries), be parts of (concordare) one order except under someone’s government, which enables all and each to tend to a definite end. But in the world (mundo) we find that things of diverse natures come together (concordare) under one order, and this not rarely or by chance, but always or for the most part (maiori parte). There must therefore be some being by whose providence the world (mundus) is governed. This we call God.

This argument explicitly appeals to the coherent order of the universe as a whole. Thomas explicitly cites an earlier argument in John of Damascus's work, On the Orthodox Faith. Here is my translation of the crucial paragraphs there (Chapter 3):

"But the very permanence and conservation and governance of creation teaches us that it is God who makes that universe exist continually and be conserved, and who always provides for it. For how do the contraries of nature (I mean fire, water, air, and earth) come together in the consummation of the world and remain indestructible, unless some omnipotent power brings them together and conserves them in their indestructibility?"

​"And what is it that establishes the heavenly and terrestrial things, and whatever is throughout (per/because of?) the air, and whatever attends (secundam/results from) the water, and, even more so, the things of water that are before those—the heaven and the earth and the air, the nature of fire and water? What is it that drives them with a restless and uninterrupted motion?"

"Isn’t it a craftsman of these things, who imposes a rational order on all of them, by whose design this cosmic device or machine is produced and conducted? Isn’t this same craftsman the one who makes these things and brings them into existence? Therefore, we will not attribute such power to chance. Suppose, however, that the elements were generated by chance: who so orders them that they go on existing? And even supposing that it did seem that the elements arose chance, we would have to ask: whose calculations are responsible for these things' being preserved and cared for, that is, the things that came to being in place of the original elements? An intelligent being, and not chance. Who could this be if not God?"

John's argument seems to be an early version of the fine-tuning argument for design. He is suggesting that rational design is needed to explain why the various elements of the world can coexist peacefully, resulting in a relatively stable and long-lasting cosmos. Recent work in cosmology has vindicated John's intuitions. Unless the universe's initial conditions and the fundamental constants governing the various forces were precisely adjusted to one another, one force or another would come to dominate, resulting in a world consisting entirely of black holes or entirely of a uniform gas cloud.

That Thomas accepts and uses this sort of argument is also confirmed by the following passage from De Veritate:

De Veritate Q5 a2 (Is the world governed by providence?):
"Material and efficient causes, as such, cause only the existence of their effects. They are not sufficient to produce goodness in them so that they be aptly disposed in themselves, so that they could continue to exist, and toward others so that they could help them. Heat, for example, of its very nature and of itself can break down other things, but this breaking down is good and helpful only if it happens up to a certain point and in a certain way. Consequently, if we do not admit that there exist in nature causes other than heat and similar agents, we cannot give any reason why things happen in a good and orderly way."






]]>Sun, 23 Jan 2022 22:09:24 GMThttp://robkoons.net/the-rigorous-thomist/a-further-reconstruction-of-the-fourth-way1.There are, among things that can exist, degrees of value (goodness, nobility).
2.The assignment of degrees of value consists in comparing things as more or less similar to a possible thing of maximum value.
3.Therefore, there is a possible being of maximum value. (From 1, 2)
4.A being has maximum value if and only if it has maximum existence. (Convertibility of goodness and being)
5.Therefore, there is a possible being M of maximum existence. (Conclusion of the first part)
6.There is a necessary being (or plurality of necessary beings) N that is, in every possible world, possibly the cause of all existing things in that world. (From the Second and Third Ways)
7.Necessarily, if x is possibly the cause of the existence of y, then x has existence to the same or greater degree than y does. (Aristotle’s Alpha the Lesser principle)
8.Therefore, in every possible world w, N has the greatest degree of existence of anything that exists in w. (From 6, 7)
9.A being of maximum existence exists in some world w. (From 5)
10.Therefore, N has maximum existence in w. (From 8, 9)
11.A necessary being has the same degree of existence in every world.
12.Therefore, N has maximum existence in every world. (From 10, 11)
13.Therefore, N has maximum value in every world. (From 4, 12)
 
There is a potential problem with this reconstruction: step 5 (conclusion of the first half) isn’t strictly necessary. If N didn’t have existence to the maximum possible degree, then there would be a world w containing something with existence to a higher degree. But, then, N could not be the cause of that thing.

Perhaps we could take 1-5 as merely establishing the possible existence of a being of maximum value, which provides some independent support to the conclusion 13. But it would be nice to find some way to make 1-5 directly relevant to 6-13.
]]>Sun, 16 Jan 2022 20:49:39 GMThttp://robkoons.net/the-rigorous-thomist/a-new-argument-from-motionThe following is not an exposition or explanation of any argument found in the texts of Aristotle or Thomas Aquinas, but it is inspired by their work, and located within the tradition.

​Let's begin by assuming that all change must have a cause. Another word for ‘change’ in this context is ‘passion’. Let’s assume, then, that every passion has a corresponding action. On this picture, the action of the agent is the cause; the passion of the patient is the effect. Causation always involves two or more substances. Here we will also introduce a principle of proportionate causality. It is obvious, for example, that actual change or passion can only result from actual action, involving an actually existing agent and an actually possessed active power. A merely potential event cannot be the actual cause of any actual change. A merely potential agent cannot act.
 
If we were to abandon this principle of ontologically proportionate causality, we would have no explanation for the asymmetry and irreflexivity of causation. That is, we couldn’t explain why a given passion couldn’t be its own cause, promoting itself from mere potentiality to actuality. This would be tantamount to rejecting the causal principle altogether.
 
Every passion must be located in time, since time is the measure of change. What is the temporal relation (if any) between an action and its corresponding passion? There are four logical possibilities: (i) the action is earlier than the passion, (ii) the action and passion are simultaneous, (iii) the action is later than the passion, or (iv) the action is unlocated in time. I will argue that only cases (ii) and (iv) are metaphysically possible.
 
Let’s say that an entity is temporal when it has a state that is located in time. In cases (i) through (iii), the agent has a state (namely, the action) that is located in time, so the agent must be temporal. Only in case (iv) can we have an atemporal or timeless agent.
 
If an agent is temporal, then all its states are actual or potential only relative to the various moments of time (see Koons 2020, Koons forthcoming). Therefore, we cannot say that the agent’s action is actual simpliciter but only that it is actual or potential at this or that time. We must also adapt our principle of causality to incorporate this relativity: for each passion, its corresponding action must be actual at the time at which the passion occurs. Actions occurring in the past or future are, at the time of the passion, merely potential. Hence, we can rule out cases (i) and (iii).
 
Every change must have a cause. If a temporal agent A acts at time t to produce a passion in some patient, then agent A must have undergone some change that eventuated in this particular action at time t. The agent has changed from not being the agent of a particular change to being the actual agent of that change. Hence, the change in the state of the agent requires a cause.
 
If all agents were temporal, this would lead to at least one infinite causal regress at each moment of time. We could then consider the whole plurality of things undergoing change at that time and ask, What causes them to change? Since these changes are all simultaneous, nothing prevents us from aggregating them together into a single, massive event. Given the principle of causation, this simultaneous plurality of events must have a cause that is both separate from itself and actual (at t). Since the plurality includes all changes occurring at this time t, the only possible cause of the plurality of changes would be the action of an atemporal agent. An atemporal action can act at any or all times without undergoing any change itself, and so without requiring a cause.
 

]]>Sun, 09 Jan 2022 18:33:22 GMThttp://robkoons.net/the-rigorous-thomist/classical-theism-backgroundGood metaphysical arguments don’t operate in a vacuum. They occur within a theoretical framework provided by a successful, time-tested research program. The oldest and most successful research program in metaphysics is that of the so-called perennial philosophy, beginning with Plato and Aristotle, extended by the Neo-Platonists, and developed in Western scholastic philosophy. At the core of this program is the distinction between two modes of being, potential and actual, along with a commitment to a strong principle of proportionate causation, that is, the principle that the greater the effect, the greater the cause must be. Many contemporary philosophers have defended this program (myself included).
 
Another important assumption of the perennial philosophy concerns the dependent nature of time. Time is not merely a static dimension within which events and states can be located. Such a Block Universe picture of time would leave us with many inexplicable data, including the irreversible direction of time and causation, the fixity of the past and the openness of the future, the basis of the Second Law of Thermodynamics and other irreversible laws, and our universal experience of the passage of time. Aristotle provides a much more satisfying account of time in Book III of his Physics: time is simply the measure of change. Change is the more fundamental phenomenon, and the distinctive characteristics of time are derivable from the nature of change.
 
This hypothesis requires that change itself not be given a real definition in terms of time. That is, we must reject Bertrand Russell’s At-At theory of change (Russell 1922, Lecture VI), according to which a thing x undergoes change just in case it has one feature at some time t1 and a contrary feature at some later time t2. Instead, we must define change as Aristotle does. A thing x is undergoing change just in case there is some feature F of such a kind that x has a potentiality for F-ness that is in some degree of partial actualization. This definition does not make any reference to moments of time or their temporal relations of earlier and later. However, it does entail that if some entity x is undergoing change with respect to F-ness, there must be earlier and later times of such a kind that x is progressively closer to F at the successively later moments of time. Partial actualization requires at least two distinct modes of being (i.e., instants of time), one in which x is (still) only potentially F, and another in which it is actually F. In fact, there must be an infinite number of such instances, each with a different degree of actuality of x’s F-ness, with the full actualization of x’s potential for F-ness occurring in exactly one of these. The direction of time is determined by the prior direction of change: if x’s potentiality for F-ness is partially actualized, and this partial actualization corresponds to a set of moments, then the later moments in that set must be ones in which x is closer to being F.
 
Now let’s add to this picture the assumption that all change must have a cause. Another word for ‘change’ in this context is ‘passion’. Let’s assume, then, that every passion has a corresponding action. On this picture, the action of the agent is the cause; the passion of the patient is the effect. Causation always involves two or more substances. Here we will also introduce a principle of proportionate causality. It is obvious, for example, that actual change or passion can only result from actual action, involving an actually existing agent and an actually possessed active power. A merely potential event cannot be the actual cause of any actual change. A merely potential agent cannot act.
 
If we were to abandon this principle of ontologically proportionate causality, we would have no explanation for the asymmetry and irreflexivity of causation. That is, we couldn’t explain why a given passion couldn’t be its own cause, promoting itself from mere potentiality to actuality. This would be tantamount to rejecting the causal principle altogether.

It is important to recognize that accepting this Aristotelian framework does not depend on deciding the A Theory/B Theory issue. In particular, it does not depend in any way on so radical a thesis as Presentism—the view that everything that is actual is actual at the present time. It is compatible with Aristotelianism that there be infinitely many different modes of actuality, one for each moment of time, past, present and future. All that is required  is the assumption that to effect a change that is actual in mode t, the agent must have a power that is actual in that same mode, i.e., at that same time.
 
This viewpoint would not be consistent with a non-Aristotelian version of the B Theory—one in which every event at every moment of time is actual in exactly the same way. On such a Block Universe model, there is no room for defining change as the actualization of a specific potential. Such a model, as J. M. E. McTaggart long ago noted, fails to take seriously the reality of change.
 


]]>Mon, 03 Jan 2022 00:44:03 GMThttp://robkoons.net/the-rigorous-thomist/what-is-classical-theismDoes the God of classical theism exist? The principal reason for thinking that God fits the profile defined by classical theism is this: we have good metaphysical grounds for believing both that some entity that fits this profile exist, and we have good theological grounds for believing that, if such an entity exists, it must be identical to God, that is, to the God of the Bible, the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. 
 
So, what is the profile of the God of classical theism? There are four crucial characteristics:
 
1.God is absolutely the first cause of all causable things.
2.God is atemporal.
3.God lacks any intrinsic, passive potentiality.
4.God has no distinct nature and no distinct act of existence: He is identical to His own act of existence, which is also His nature or essence.
 
It is noteworthy that this list does not contain any of the traditional omnis: omniscience, omnipotence, or omnibenevolence. I haven’t included personality on the list, nor such properties as having knowledge or will. I haven’t included God’s infinity or perfection or uniqueness. This is not because classical theism is silent on any of these points, but because, in the classical-theist tradition, all these divine characteristics follow from the four that I have listed. They are, from an epistemological point of view (that is, in the order of human understanding), secondary characteristics of the God of classical theism. These secondary characteristics are not points of controversy between classical and non-classical theists; in contrast, all of the primary characteristics on the list are quite controversial.
 
There are, therefore, two tasks which the classical theologian must complete: first, to argue successfully that some entity satisfies the four primary characteristics, and, second, to demonstrate that any being with the primary characteristics must also have the familiar secondary characteristics.
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