Metaphysics, Philosophy

A Very Short Introduction To Aristotelian-Thomist Metaphysics: Act and Potency, Part. 2

by Dave Seng

Although Aquinas applies the concepts of act and potency to almost every facet of existence, from natural science to the features of the intellect, and even to the characteristics of the soul and angels, the best starting point to understand the important categories of act and potency is the relationship these ideas have with Being. A large part of Aquinas’s philosophical methodology is to distinguish and apply the categories of act and potency to all of reality. (Sometimes Aquinas uses the word “powers” to mean innate potencies or abilities.) Aquinas himself tells us that all reality, or Being, can be divided between act and potency. “Potency and act divide being and every kind of being” (400). At another point Aquinas explains, “Since Being properly signifies that something is, in act, and act is properly ordered to potentiality, a thing is, in consequence, called Being absolutely according as it is primarily distinguished from that which is only in potency; and this is each thing’s substantial Being” (23). Furthermore, Aquinas expands upon the nature of Being, “Being is the actuality of every form or nature; for goodness or humanity are spoken of as actual only because they are spoken of as being. Therefore, being must be compared to essence, if the latter is distinct from the former, as act to potency” (17). Something is “in act” or in the state of actuality when it is existing in physical reality or knowable through the intellect. Echoing Aristotle, Aquinas tells us “everything is knowable only in so far as it is in act” (24). The concept of Being which is the most general concept we have of reality, can nevertheless be delineated between act and potency.

Being, however, has two senses — one sense refers to physical objects of reality and, in the second, intellectual objects of the mind such as statements, ideas or concepts such as goodness or humanity, and mathematics. Again Aquinas explains, “’To be’ can mean either of two things. It may mean the act of being, or it may mean the composition of a proposition effected by the mind in joining a predicate to a subject” (17). In sum, all of reality exists in one way or another in act — either in acts of perception or acts of the intellect. It is important to keep in mind, also, that Aquinas does not hold to a separate realm of ideas as Plato does, or the idea that the mind itself determines reality. As will be explained later, Aquinas holds that form and matter are always united together. In his epistemology, however, Aquinas holds that the natural physical things of this world (things existing “in act”) have their own intractable reality and they are known by way of the five senses. It is through abstraction that one realizes essences and universals that exist in the intellect. For example, “redness” is realized by viewing several red objects. Aquinas, following Aristotle, is grounded in nature and believes that the physical objects of this world have their own inherent and intrinsic characteristics and that these characteristics can be known through abstraction. In other words, reality is the determinate of order. According to Aquinas, “Our intellect cannot know the singular in material things directly and primarily. The reason of this is that the principle of singularity in material things is individual matter, while our intellect… understands by abstracting the intelligible species from such matter. Now what is abstracted from universal matter is the universal” (461). Aquinas indicates that it is possible for the intellect to know the particular through reflecting on the universal. All Being, nonetheless, exists in the universals and particulars that make up the being and becoming of this world.

For Aquinas, Being includes act and potency, but how does change actually take place in the realm of becoming? More specifically, what is the cause of change? With the exception of universals, virtually all things of the physical world are subject to change or movement. As noted earlier, both living and non-living things experience change. Change is the actualization of a thing’s potential. Aquinas provides this definition of change, “A thing requires to be moved by something in so far as it is in potency to several things; for that which is in potency must be reduced to act by something actual, and to do this is to move” (658). Change, then, is potency reduced to act. However, an outside and additional element is necessary to bring about change. Potency is needed for change, but it is only a necessary condition, not a sufficient condition to bring about change. Aquinas explains, “Now it is impossible for a thing’s being to be caused by its essential principles, for nothing can be the sufficient cause of its own being, if its being is caused” (17). In other words, for an acorn to change into a beautiful oak tree, more than potential is needed. In order for an oak tree to develop from an acorn, the acorn must be nurtured by sunshine, rain, nutrients in the soil, and time. Something else, always itself in “act,” is needed to actualize a potential. “For whatever is in potency can be reduced to act only by some being in act” (14). Potency itself cannot bring about act — just as non-being cannot bring about being.

That which reduces a potential to act is called a cause and a quick overview of Aristotle’s famous four causes is, therefore, necessary. Aquinas is fully committed to the Aristotelian four causes. The first cause is the material cause — that out of which something is actualized. The second cause is the efficient cause — that by which something is actualized. The third cause is the formal cause — that into which something is actualized. The fourth cause is the final cause — that for the sake of which something is actualized. A biological example will help explain how these four causes work in the physical world. To understand the basics of the human heart, it is important to know what it is made of — its material cause. In this case, the material cause of a heart is muscle. The efficient cause rests in the DNA that structures and orders cells in such a way as to create a muscular heart and not a kidney or spleen. The formal cause is that which the heart muscle is fashioned into — ventricles, arteries, aorta, etc. The final cause serves the purpose of pumping blood. For both Aristotle and Aquinas, final causes are significant and found whenever cause and effect relationships are seen. The totality of the three previous causes all serve a goal or ultimate end, culminating in the final cause. Focusing on act and potency, the efficient cause is that which actualizes a potency. That is why Aquinas says, “Now everything which is in any way changed is in some way in potency” (38). In other words, there is always an external component to a change which reduces potency to act, and that external component is the efficient cause. The builder of a ship is the efficient cause of the ship, and the DNA in the acorn is the efficient cause of the oak tree.

All things in act, therefore, are the subject or cause of change. That which is in act is always a composition of act and potency. According to Aquinas, all things are made up of a composition. “Thus, in everything which is moved, there is some kind of composition” (39). One of the metaphysical aspects of reality is that the normal everyday things of this world are composed of act and potency. For Aquinas, another significant aspect of all of reality is the composition of form and matter. Aquinas explains, “matter is that which is in potency” (15). And this relates to change as well, according to Aquinas, “For just as matter, as such, is in potency, an agent, as such, is in act” (21). The twofold composition of form and matter is simply a restatement of the Aristotelian understanding of formal and material cause. It is also important to understand that things which change according to a final cause must also be composed of form and matter. Without form there would not be an essence to something and an inherent or final nature could not be realized. Aquinas explains how this final end is related to act and form, “upon the form follows an inclination to the end… for everything, in so far as it is in act, acts and tends towards that which is in accordance with its form” (27). For Aquinas then, the immaterial aspects of causation are always connected to act and potency, and form and matter.

In addition, that which is in act is combined with form and matter, “being is the actuality of every form or nature” (17). Just as everything is composed of act and potency, all things are composed of form and matter. “Hence, being itself is the actuality of all things, even of forms themselves” (21). As we have seen already, being is that which is in act. We can therefore understand, that which is in act is also combined of form and matter. Aquinas explains that universals and essences can be infinite, but form is bound and contracted to matter, “Just as immaterial things are in a way infinite as compared to material things, since a form is, after a fashion, contracted and bounded by matter, so that form which is independent of matter is, in a way, infinite” (620). In other words, apart from universals, essences, or abstractions, forms are always in combination with matter and that which informs, or participates in the transformation of matter when it changes, and matter is that which participates in the potential of receiving the form. “Forms which can be received in matter are individualized by matter” (16). Echoing Aristotle, Aquinas holds that in physical objects, forms are inherent or immanent in the things themselves.

As it turns out, the concept of potency is powerful and helps to provide a foundation for understanding the metaphysical structure of things that undergo change in this world. Therefore, wider implications of the act/potency distinction warrants exploration. From physical nature to human beings, everything that is in act is also in potency. Potency, therefore, precedes and supersedes actuality and provides continuity when things change because that which is in act will change according to its nature, or essence, through potency. Potency is not something that can be measured by the tools of the physicist, but its effects can be. Science, after all, is not interested in matter in and of itself, but rather in the properties, capacities, and possibilities that the matter contains by virtue of its potency. Whenever a drug manufacturer gives a list of possible side effects (such as bleeding, restlessness, bloating, blindness, etc.) it is explaining the potentialities that might occur if certain conditions are met. In information science, we know that computers only perform as they do because electrons have certain properties and not others. Finally, we do not yet know the capacity and limitations of the human mind and intellect. The capacity for the mind to grow, develop, and learn speaks to the potential of what it means to be human. Human beings are amazing and have the ability to adapt, appropriate knowledge, and develop greater and greater abstraction. Pure potentiality can never be measured empirically, but to deny its reality would be intuitively and conceptually absurd. Aquinas’ act/potency and his correlative form/matter distinctions make the most sense out of reality and provide a significant foundation for understanding the metaphysical structure of change and the world we live in.

Works Cited

Aquinas, Thomas. The Summa Theologica, Volume 1. Great Books of the Western World. Vol. 17. Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 1999

Metaphysics, Philosophy

A Very Short Introduction To Aristotelian-Thomist Metaphysics: Act and Potency, Part. 1

by Dave Seng

Although Aristotle and Aquinas define the term “metaphysics” in various ways, one common rendering both use is “first principles.” For these thinkers, metaphysics is the study of the first principles of reality and how one views the world. One of the guiding first principles for Aquinas, especially in his metaphysics or understanding of reality, is his distinction between “act” and “potency.” Act and potency are not unique to Aquinas; these categories are first developed by Aristotle who uses these categories to describe how causation and change work in the physical world. Nonetheless, Aquinas, following Aristotle, applies the categories of act and potency to virtually every aspect of reality. In addition to act and potency, Aquinas also uses the categories of form and matter to make sense out of reality as Being. With the categories of act and potency and form and matter, Aquinas describes the immaterial structure and nature of all of reality and explains how potency accounts for change. He uses the categories of act and potency to such a degree, and so broadly, that they are among the most important principles for understanding Aquinas’s metaphysics and have broad implications to how one understands nature, science, and human potential.

For Aquinas, and many philosophers in the Aristotelian-Thomist tradition, the proper object of study for metaphysicians is the concept of Being1. In the simplest terms, Being is the study of all that exists, including concrete physical phenomena such as humans, tables, quadrupeds, things that can be discerned from the senses, and abstract mental concepts such as mathematics, goodness, and other ideas. Being, therefore, is the study of the nature and framework of all reality. It is important to note that Being is not a particular genus or species, but rather that in which all genera and species participate. That which exists and all that which stands out of non-being, participates in Being, but Being itself is not a genus or species. “Being itself is considered as formal, and as something received, and not as that to which Being belongs” (21). As Aquinas reminds us in the most general terms, “Being is common to all” (22). It is important to note that for Aquinas, the physical and metaphysical are not separated. The physical things that exist in act or being also participate in the metaphysical notion of potency. Through act and potency, Aquinas provides an important conceptual scheme for things which participate in being and also undergo change.

Much of philosophical history is an attempt to understand the mystery of change. Although Aquinas uses Aristotle’s categories of act and potency to reveal important insights about reality and to explain how change is possible, the discussion begins with Plato. Plato, following Parmenides, insisted that true Being implies permanence. Parmenides teaches that Being and Non-Being are the only genuine realities of existence, and change, therefore, is impossible because Non-Being cannot be the cause of Being. Change, although obvious to the senses, is an illusion. Plato, influenced by Parmenides, holds that the changing and mutable things of this world are not real Being or existence in the highest sense — only the Forms existing in a transcendent realm, participate in true Being. Aristotle, however, being firmly grounded in nature and the physical world, knows that change and motion are real and must be accounted for. In Aristotelian and Thomist terms, motion means change in the broad sense and not just movement from one place to another. Drawing on Aristotle, Aquinas explains, “For because ‘motion from place to place is naturally the first of movements,’ as is proved in the Physics, we use terms belonging to local motion in speaking of alteration and movement of all kinds” (351). For Aristotle and Aquinas, physical things, existing in reality actually change. Change is part of Becoming. Influenced by Aristotle, Aquinas knows that things change according to their nature and he uses the concept of potency to explain how change is possible. Things do not change at random or whimsically, but according to their nature. For example, an acorn has the natural potential or capacity (if nothing hinders it) to become a mighty oak tree. In the case of natural or biological generation (a type of change) Aquinas states, “It ought, then, rather to be said that in the natural generation of all animals that are generated from seed, the active principle lies in the formative power of the seed…” (367). Just as biological matter has inherent tendencies towards life, Aquinas also explains that human beings have intrinsic potencies. Relating human potential to the “intellectual soul” (395) as that property humans have to comprehend universals and to use their reason to understand and create things, Aquinas explains, “Aristotle does not say that the soul is the act of the body only, but ‘the act of a physical organic body which has life potentially’; and that this potency does not reject the soul’ … In like manner, the soul is said to be ‘the act of the body,’ etc., because by the soul it is a body and is organic, and has life potentially” (394). In other words, a student has the potential to become a doctor if she studies and applies her intellectual abilities. Potency, then, contains the possibilities that something can change into according to its nature.

1 Many philosophers in the Aristotelian and Thomist traditions prefer the term “ontology” in describing their approach to the study of Being.

Works Cited

Aquinas, Thomas. The Summa Theologica, Volume 1. Great Books of the Western World. Vol. 17. Encyclopedia Britannica, Inc., 1999

Book Reviews, Education, Liberal Arts, Philosophy

Review: Mark Edmundson’s Self and Soul: A Defense of Ideals

by Dave Seng

Mark Edmundson. Self and Soul: A Defense of Ideals. Harvard University Press 2015. 283 pp. (Hardcover ISBN: 9780674088207).

Mark Edmundson has taken philosophic approaches in his writings on education, literature, and culture and in Self and Soul: A Defense of Ideals, Edmundson looks rationally and critically at the state of contemporary culture, and evaluates it in the context of ideas that have had a profound impact on the Western intellectual tradition. As Aristotle reminds us, philosophy begins with wonder. When one attempts to understand contemporary culture, one cannot help but wonder at what influenced the ideas, attitudes, and characteristics of our own age. Through this sense of wonder, Edmundson examines three essential values that he believes had an important impact on the development of modern liberal societies – courage, contemplation, and compassion and relates these central ideas to the modern understanding of “Self” and “Soul.” In Self and Soul, Edmundson blends literary criticism with intellectual history and philosophical reflection.

The central concern for Edmundson is that the West has become progressively more practical, materially oriented, and skeptical (1). Absent of real virtues such as courage, contemplation, and compassion, contemporary culture demonstrates a state of affairs where, “unfettered capitalism runs amok; Nature is ravaged; the rich gorge; prisons are full to bursting; the poor cry out in their misery and no one seems to hear. Lust of Self rules the day” (1). Using the categories of “Self” and “Soul” Edmundson presents a thoughtful dialogue between two different metaphysical world views.

The book’s central thesis is both simple and profound – “without ideals, life lacks significant meaning” (102). Edmundson admits that he could be wrong. Those who have embraced genuine ideals, or values, have often been persecuted, killed, or marginalized. Perhaps Freud, Nietzsche, and Derrida are right – values might actually be tools the powerful use to oppress others. And yet, Edmundson wonders, what if Freud and Nietzsche, geniuses though they were, were actually wrong about human nature and the role of ideals in society? What if Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle were right about the place of ideals and intellectual virtue in one’s life? Self and Soul provides an intellectual history that seeks to provide a dialogue and exchange of ideas between these positions. Edmundson also has another reason for exploring these questions. Many young people are not even given the option to explore them. For that matter, many adults have given up on these questions altogether. “Every man and woman should have the chance to ponder the question of the ideal” (2). Edmundson argues that everyone today should be able to discover if these values are true or not and determine whether they want to implement them in their lives. The intellectual process of inquiry, free exchange of ideas, and discussion should be available to all. Yet, the concept of enduring, timeless, and essential values seems to be fading from our cultural heritage. The concern is, if we say there are no transcendent values, we cut ourselves off from the educational process of discovery and have no way of deciding whether or not we want to integrate ideals and values into our lives. Deciding whether or not ideals exist and how to implement them in life and society should at least be a living option. Edmundson is not simply concerned about describing a world or society in which values or ideals do not exist, he is well aware that false and counterfeit ideals do exist, and he believes that in various ways Freud and Nietzsche are the great intellectual proponents of anti-idealist ideals.

For Edmundson, the Self is a cultural condition of radical individualism, presentism, and greed. Society is increasingly driven and obsessed with consumer capitalism, mediated through technology and entertainment with no other significant purpose or end. “We live for our personal desires; we want food and sex, money and power and prestige” (14). For many, the mindless pursuit of appetite serves no greater purpose than providing inane distractions for their brief lives. The Soul, on the other hand, as Edmundson conceives it, is a unity of being that fully embodies the ideals of courage, compassion, and contemplation. The Soul is “unified, joy bringing, and fully present to experience” (1). Edmundson’s conception of the soul is similar to Aristotle’s “great souled man,” a soul centered on magnanimity and intellectual and moral virtue. The idealist hopes for joy and presence and unity, not only for himself but for others. Edmundson argues that a generous impulse lies behind the aspiration to the ideal and can be seen in the lives of Socrates, Jesus, the Buddha, and even Hector and Achilles (97). In contrast, however, “Lives without courage, contemplation, compassion, and imagination are lives sapped of significant meaning. In such lives, the Self cannot transcend itself. But the Self seems to hunger for such transcendence” (50).

The central values Edmundson seeks to explicate are courage, contemplation, and compassion. He uses Homer’s Iliad to develop the ideal of courage, although contemplation and compassion can also be found in the epic poem. Plato is examined for the role of contemplation and the quest for eternal Truth and Jesus, the Buddha, and the Hindu sacred texts are used to describe the life of compassion. Homer’s heroes (he focuses on Achilles and Hector) illustrate the unity of purpose between mind and heart as they experience a unity of being that centers them in this world. Edmundson explains, “The warrior senses himself to be an integral part of all he sees around him … The warrior is at home in the world, though there is little that is kindly, generous or sweet about the world in which he dwells” (27). Given a just and honorable cause, the true warrior takes appropriate action. He understands that one’s words and ideas must correspond to one’s actions. The Homeric hero experiences a metaphysical realism that centers him in this world. In contrast, contemporary man is not at home; he is restless and seeks the Self above everything else.

The idea of contemplation is found in Plato. Plato seeks a Truth that will be true for all time. He is not looking for truth that applies exclusively to Greeks, or to men and women who live in city-states, or to those who exist at the same point in time that he does. Plato seeks Truth that will apply to all men and women at all times. As Edmundson explains, “If Plato’s account cannot illuminate the human condition in America in 2020 as well as it did the human condition in Greece when he was teaching and writing, Plato fails” (5). If the true thinker, following Plato, succeeds he will understand the permanence of human nature and the Good that transcends time and space. He “can tell you not only what men and women are like now, and what the world is, but how those things will be for all time” (134). The thinker will understand human nature and understand what kinds of governments will succeed or fail and what kind of education is best. Edmundson then turns to the great ideal of compassion and focuses on the life of Jesus although similar teachings can be found in the Buddha or the wisdom of the Upanishads. “With compassion, every man is my neighbor. Every woman is my neighbor. … No longer is one a thrashing Self, fighting the war of each against all. Now one is part of everything and everyone: one merges with the spirit of all that lives” (8).

Is Edmundson right about our current social and intellectual climate? He is certainly not the first to point out the differences between contemporary culture and the classical worldview. Whether or not one holds to the declension model of Western civilization or one sees both continuities and discontinuities in previous or current societies, it can certainly be said that there is much in today’s culture that magnifies the Self above any and all ideals. Whether it be affective capitalism, ecotourism, or a simple online search (which is based on popularity and may or may not contain that which corresponds to reality), postmodern consumer capitalism exists to provide the ever new experience for the Self. Corporations invest large sums to give customers what they want and build their loyalty free from burdens of thinking too carefully or rationally about the most important concerns of life. The Self does seem to rule supreme. When it comes to education, having information does not mean one has understanding or wisdom. In a larger picture, Self and Soul speaks to the metaphysical tension of being and becoming. Are we now living entirely in a state of becoming? If so, how do we find the eternal moral and intellectual values of being – those that do not change according to time or one’s Self or political identities? Are there really no unchanging ideals? Perhaps it is due to the rationalism of Descartes, the idealism of Kant, or just disengaged global capitalism (simple self-centered greed), the culture of the Self does demonstrate a radical skepticism regarding knowledge of the external world or real values that might shape it for the better. In some ways, Edmundson echoes the philosopher F.H. Bradley as he explains that the Self is a consequence of the failure to seek and integrate the great ideals that were foundational to Western civilization. Many students do not get the opportunity to explore these questions. Edmundson’s Self and Soul argues that our students deserve such a chance.

Metaphysics, Philosophy

Final Thoughts on Intuition

by Dave Seng

Hopefully, this will wrap up some ideas from my last three posts. As always, this feels unfinished but that is the nature of philosophy.

The proper understanding of intuition speaks to how we understand reality. Many philosophers (and non-philosophers for that matter) have a deep distrust of intuition. There is good reason for this skepticism, but not if intuition is properly understood and the totality of person-hood is considered. Intuition, rightly understood, is the idea that we all have ultimate presuppositions, basic assertions, and self-evident truths which are known with certainty as the foundations of all other ideas but which themselves cannot be proved. This position is known as foundationalism. From a strictly logical standpoint, not everything can be argued or there would never be an end to arguing. Aristotle still provides the best presentation and defense of foundationalism and is correct to point out that every argument finally rests on something that cannot be proved, and that it is the mark of an uneducated person not to realize that. How strict should we then be when thinking about intuition as foundational? Philosophers are divided over this point. I would argue that we can learn the truth about ourselves and the world around us not only from science but from imaginative literature and the great works of art, music, and history. Ideas are communicated non-rationally as well as rationally. Intuition and the non-rational make a contribution to what we know. To be healthy human beings we need to integrate the non-rational with the rational. (To become unhealthy, all we need to do is embrace the irrational.) As rational beings, and that which distinguishes human beings from animals, we are able to weigh evidence through careful examination and make evaluations either empirically or through intellectual demonstration by way of argument. Intuition, reason, abstraction, and empiricism must be seen holistically in such a way that they work together—not against each other as Bergson and other philosophers of the twentieth century believe.

We develop ontological constancy and perceive self-evident truths (the law of non-contradiction, for example) at a very young age, even when we can not articulate them. Any parent of a young child knows this to be true. Most individuals achieve psychological permanency by the time they are three years old. This means Aristotle is correct when he describes intuition as the inherent human capacity to grasp self-evident truths. Both cognitively and physically we are all part of and directed toward understanding the external physical world. Intuition is part of that human capacity. In various ways, philosophers like Descartes, Berkeley, and Kant have tried to prove the existence of external reality. This is because they made consciousness epistemically autonomous and discarded common sense intuition. The question of external reality, however, is not a philosophical problem at all. It is impossible to say one is having a sense perception and deny that the external object exists. Perception cannot be separated from reality. If that were not the case, there would be no difference between hallucinating and perception. As Aristotle explains, intuition and perception work together to grasp this foundational truth of reality.

As I indicated in my last post and from the comments above, it should be clear that I lean toward a broad intuitive foundationalism. There are many places in human interactions and the world around us that can not be simply reduced to strictly rational premises. Not everything is rationally analyzable. Human love, true friendship, great aesthetic experiences from works of art, literature, music, and various forms of religious illumination, simply cannot be condensed and downgraded to analytic propositions. Reason, however, plays a part in bringing these things together. Finally, it is important to realize that epistemology (how we know reality) and metaphysics (the nature of reality itself) are two different questions. Epistemology should never drive metaphysics—but that will be the topic of another post.