Reply to Bonnie on the Aristotelian Soul

Dear friend and frequent interlocutor, Bonnie, posted a long comment connected with this blog at the International Political Science Association Research Committee 12 Facebook page.  I am replying here. 

Others whose scholarship has focused on Aristotle propose that the Latin version of Aristotle differs from the Greek in ways that are significant for biology. For instance the concept of soul (psyche) about which Aristotle wrote in De Anima in Greek means breath (or life). The Latin Aquinas proposed that soul is autonomous and independent of the body. Thus a shift of that kind implies dualism in Aquinas translation of Aristotle that was not included in the Greek. Ken you know far more than me so correct any misunderstanding…

John Herman Randall, a great scholar of Aristotle who taught at Columbia where another friend of mine studied philosophy, taught that the Greek version of Aristotle is a kind of process philosophy. One small example of a translational conundrum is that the concept of soul (psyche) in Greek means breath (or life). The Latin Aquinas understood soul as autonomous and independent of the body. Thus, Aquinas’ translation of Aristotle leads to a dualism that, according to Randall, does not appear in the Greek Aristotle.

I cut and pasted out of order to focus on this central point.  I am marginally competent in classical Greek.  I have no Latin.  For a number of reasons however I do not think that the translation of Aristotle’s word for the soul‑ψυχή‑into the Latin anima was responsible for a more dualistic concept of soul. 

All words for soul are grounded in the distinction between the external, visible aspects of beings and the internal, invisible dimensions of those beings.  The soul explains two basic phenomena: why some things are alive rather than dead and how human beings and animals (and perhaps even trees or fresh springs) can have an internal consciousness and intention.  That these phenomena are real in the case of human beings we know firsthand.  That they are real in animals we know from analogy.  As for plants and sacred mountains, I remain agnostic. 

As soon as a culture becomes aware of this distinction between the visible and invisible aspects of the human being, it is almost inevitable that someone will imagine that they can exist apart from one another.  What, after all, is a corpse but a body from which the soul has departed?  If the soul departs, where does it go?  Perhaps it is as the Buddha suggested with his powerful question: where does the candle flame go when it is blown out?  The Greeks and the Romans certainly imagined that there were realms where souls exist without bodies.  I seem to recall Achilles complaining about the lodging in Hades.  Moreover, ghosts are ubiquitous in all cultures that are aware of the body/soul distinction. 

Philosophical accounts of dualism are another thing.  To my knowledge, the closest one comes to dualism in classical philosophy is Lucretius’ reading of Epicurus.  Lucretius is one of the rare examples of a genuine materialist.  All aspects of real beings are the consequence of their atomic components.  The soul, he supposed, was fine, invisible cloud of particles that escapes from the body at death like air from a balloon.  I suppose you will find more in the Neoplatonists; however, whatever they were, they weren’t Platonists. 

Aristotle’s account of ψυχή is not at all dualistic.  He says that the soul is the actuality of a body with potential for life.  To unpack this, ask yourself “what is a church?”  It’s not the bricks and boards, for these could have easily been assembled into a bank or a brothel.  It’s not the completed building, for a church has to have people and the building could be just as easily used by the bankers or the working girls.  The church is a group of human beings gathering together to do something, in this case, to worship.  Likewise, an Aristotelian animal is a specific kind of matter, organized in a certain way, and actually doing certain kinds of activity: breathing, metabolizing, sensing, etc. 

Aristotle’s soul is quite complex.  It encompasses three distinct explanatory causes: the species form (it’s a cat and not a catfish), efficient causation (the form is constantly pushing it to grow, feed, etc.), and final causation (the form directs the growth and activities of the organism towards certain ends).  It is very difficult to imagine how this kind of soul could exist apart from a material body.  To deploy a simpler analogy, a bowl has to have a convex shape; that means, however, that something must exist to be shaped into a bowl.  You can’t pour milk over cereal contained in an abstract geometrical form. 

I have read enough Aquinas to be astounded at the power of his thought.  I don’t know him nearly well enough to comment on his view of this matter.  I do know the New Testament and I read in the wee books at the end that Jesus was come in the flesh.  This was the result of a long struggle between the early church and the Gnostics.  The latter believed that all material was vulgar and bad; what was spiritual and good could exist only in the spirit.  So if Christ was the son of God, then he must have existed in spiritual form alone.  To this 1^st John 4:3 says:

καὶ πᾶν πνεῦμα ὃ μὴ ὁμολογεῖ τὸν Ἰησοῦν Χριστὸν ἐν σαρκὶ ἐληλυθότα, ἐκ τοῦ Θεοῦ οὐκ ἔστιν καὶ τοῦτό ἐστιν τὸ τοῦ ἀντιχρίστου, ὃ ἀκηκόατε ὅτι ἔρχεται, καὶ νῦν ἐν τῷ κόσμῳ ἐστὶν ἤδη

And every spirit that confesseth not that Jesus Christ is come in the flesh is not of God: and this is that spirit of antichrist, whereof ye have heard that it should come; and even now already is it in the world.

I find it fascinating that the early church was fighting explicitly against the dualism of the Gnostics.  Furthermore, to my knowledge, all major Christian churches confess the resurrection of the body.  Our souls don’t float off to heaven.  When we gain resurrection, we get our bodies back.  I am hoping for two things.  One is that the standard of admission, when it comes to opinions about these things, is lax.  The other is that I will be a bit taller and that I can sing. 

I don’t know what the nature of life after death might be but I agree with Aristotle’s model of the soul and I think that it is incoherent to imagine a human being without a human body.  The notion that the soul is a vaporous self that can float away from the body after death (or maybe from time to time during life) is probably what most contemporary Christians believe; however, that owes more to Descartes and his dualism than to the history of the Church or its doctrines.  The soul as milky, transparent self is what I like to think of as the Gospel according to Walt Disney.  It is easy to imagine a dog soul with tiny wings and a halo just as it is easy to imagine a centaur.  Both are logically incoherent. 

Nor am I convinced that all dogs go to heaven.  My mother-in-law had a dog that came straight from Hell and, gracefully, went back.  I am pretty sure that most dogs go to heaven.  

Hobbes' Materialism & His Political Agenda

Thomas Hobbes begins his magnum opus with one of the most materialist accounts of mind in the history of philosophy.  The obvious question that confronts any reader of Hobbes is why this is appropriate in a work on political science.  A less obvious question is what it says about Hobbes’ view of man and God.  Here is the opening of the second chapter, “On Imagination”.  I have added additional paragraph breaks.

THAT when a thing lies still, unless somewhat else stir it, it will lie still for ever, is a truth that no man doubts of. But that when a thing is in motion, it will eternally be in motion, unless somewhat else stay it, though the reason be the same (namely, that nothing can change itself), is not so easily assented to.

For men measure, not only other men, but all other things, by themselves: and because they find themselves subject after motion to pain and lassitude, think everything else grows weary of motion, and seeks repose of its own accord; little considering whether it be not some other motion wherein that desire of rest they find in themselves consisteth.

From hence it is that the schools say, heavy bodies fall downwards out of an appetite to rest, and to conserve their nature in that place which is most proper for them; ascribing appetite, and knowledge of what is good for their conservation (which is more than man has), to things inanimate, absurdly.

The first two sentences introduce the concept of inertia and grounds it in the claim that “nothing can change itself”.  This principle is fundamental, as I think that it constitutes a deliberate rejection of Aristotelian biology.  Aristotle supposed that nature was precisely a motion that originated in the organism; for what is life, except something that can move itself, either in space or by development over time?  If nothing can move itself, then everything is moved by something else.  If that is so, then whence comes the source of all motion?  This seems to suggest a perfectly determined, mechanical Kosmos consisting of matter and motion alone. 

The second part explains why the principle of inertia seems contrary to common sense experience.  We are used to the idea that a rock will not leap up into the sky and that a rock thrown into the air will return to earth and remain there.  We base the idea that motion requires an explanation whereas rest does not on our own lethargy. 

The third part is a direct attack on Aristotelian physics.  Aristotle and the Aristotelians seem to have supposed that basic substances (earth, air, fire and water) had a natural place to which they naturally return.  Of course, Aristotle also recognized that the place of some things such as the heavenly bodies included motion, so Hobbes is being a little bit unfair here. 

What is the point of this physical reference?  The second paragraph explains. 

When a body is once in motion, it moveth (unless something else hinder it) eternally; and whatsoever hindreth it, cannot in an instant, but in time, and by degrees, quite extinguish it: and as we see in the water, though the wind cease, the waves give not over rolling for a long time after; so also it happeneth in that motion which is made in the internal parts of a man, then, when he sees, dreams, etc.

For after the object is removed, or the eye shut, we still retain an image of the thing seen, though more obscure than when we see it. And this is it the Latins call imagination, from the image made in seeing, and apply the same, though improperly, to all the other senses. But the Greeks call it fancy, which signifies appearance, and is as proper to one sense as to another. Imagination, therefore, is nothing but decaying sense; and is found in men and many other living creatures, as well sleeping as waking.

Hobbes presents us with a model of internal human experience.  All the contents of the mind originate in the external world.  External motions collide with the senses, which transfer the motion to the nerves and then to the brain.  There the internal motions result in images of external objects.  The internal motions do not maintain their original force, which is why our memories of things are less vivid than direct observations.  When new motions come in they frequently overwhelm the decaying motions that constitute the mind’s present contents.  Within the mind, such motions are constantly competing with one another.  Yet clearly, some motions received from outside keep going for long periods of time, which explains long term memories. 

What Hobbes is after is an explanation of ghosts.  He has a theory of dreaming. 

And seeing dreams are caused by the distemper of some of the inward parts of the body, diverse distempers must needs cause different dreams. And hence it is that lying cold breedeth dreams of fear, and raiseth the thought and image of some fearful object, the motion from the brain to the inner parts, and from the inner parts to the brain being reciprocal; and that as anger causeth heat in some parts of the body when we are awake, so when we sleep the overheating of the same parts causeth anger, and raiseth up in the brain the imagination of an enemy.

This gives rise to the belief in ghosts. 

We read of Marcus Brutus (one that had his life given him by Julius Caesar, and was also his favorite, and notwithstanding murdered him), how at Philippi, the night before he gave battle to Augustus Caesar, he saw a fearful apparition, which is commonly related by historians as a vision, but, considering the circumstances, one may easily judge to have been but a short dream. For sitting in his tent, pensive and troubled with the horror of his rash act, it was not hard for him, slumbering in the cold, to dream of that which most affrighted him; which fear, as by degrees it made him wake, so also it must needs make the apparition by degrees to vanish: and having no assurance that he slept, he could have no cause to think it a dream, or anything but a vision.

The confusion caused by dreaming gives rise to a false belief that the dead can reappear.  Such beliefs are important politically because unscrupulous men can exploit the fear of such things. 

And for fairies, and walking ghosts, the opinion of them has, I think, been on purpose either taught, or not confuted, to keep in credit the use of exorcism, of crosses, of holy water, and other such inventions of ghostly men. Nevertheless, there is no doubt but God can make unnatural apparitions: but that He does it so often as men need to fear such things more than they fear the stay, or change, of the course of Nature, which he also can stay, and change, is no point of Christian faith.

But evil men, under pretext that God can do anything, are so bold as to say anything when it serves their turn, though they think it untrue; it is the part of a wise man to believe them no further than right reason makes that which they say appear credible. If this superstitious fear of spirits were taken away, and with it prognostics from dreams, false prophecies, and many other things depending thereon, by which crafty ambitious persons abuse the simple people, men would be would be much more fitted than they are for civil obedience.

That last part, I think, explains the political function of Hobbes materialist science.  If men did not believe in ghosts, if they were not subject to confusion about the nature of reality, then they would be more fit for civil obedience. 

Hobbes lived at the end of a long period of terrible religious wars.  It was not, however, the belief in personal ghosts (like Hamlet’s father) that made so many men ungovernable.  It was their belief in the Holy Ghost.  Hobbes has to be careful.  He cannot explicitly the Christian faith.  He does, however, give us clues as to his inexplicit thoughts. 

Whatsoever we imagine is finite. Therefore there is no idea or conception of anything we call infinite. No man can have in his mind an image of infinite magnitude; nor conceive infinite swiftness, infinite time, or infinite force, or infinite power. When we say anything is infinite, we signify only that we are not able to conceive the ends and bounds of the thing named, having no conception of the thing, but of our own inability. And therefore the name of God is used, not to make us conceive Him (for He is incomprehensible, and His greatness and power are unconceivable), but that we may honour Him.

Also because whatsoever, as I said before, we conceive has been perceived first by sense, either all at once, or by parts, a man can have no thought representing anything not subject to sense. No man therefore can conceive anything, but he must conceive it in some place; and endued with some determinate magnitude; and which may be divided into parts; nor that anything is all in this place, and all in another place at the same time; nor that two or more things can be in one and the same place at once: for none of these things ever have or can be incident to sense, but are absurd speeches, taken upon credit, without any signification at all, from deceived philosophers and deceived, or deceiving, Schoolmen.

So Hobbes tells us that we can have no concept of God because we can have no concept of the infinite.  So far, so good; as this is nothing that Aquinas or Maimonides would not say.  Then he goes on to say that any words not grounded in sense perception are absurd speeches from deceived philosophers and deceived, or deceiving, Schoolmen.  I think we can put two and two together. 

As evil men exploit the superstitious fears of their fellows in order to encourage civil disobedience, so Hobbes intends to exploit modern science to make men more governable.  His materialistic account of the human being is introduced to wean men, by degrees, from belief in external powers and heavenly rewards.  If this life is all we have, then the best that most of us can hope for is comfortable self-preservation.  That is a person more fit for civil obedience. 

I end by noting that, while Hobbes’ physics are sound, it is sound only at the level of physics.  His materialism can account for matter alone; it cannot account for biological wholes.  Aristotle’s view that living organisms are self-moving beings is altogether viable and essential for a science of biology.  I suggest also that the notion of self-moving organisms is the metaphysical ground of human autonomy, something that is certainly diminished in Hobbes political philosophy. 

Praying Apes & Steven Pinker

Sitting at a table in a Chinese restaurant in San Francisco, I was asked how it is possible for an ape to pray?  This was a direct challenge to my interest in evolutionary explanations for human political and moral behavior. 

I responded that a wide range of animals have two sets of limbs, fore and aft, and that in one species of ape the pads of the forelimbs can be brought together in front of the chest.  I was being facetious, of course; but not altogether facetious.  Prayer often involves physical activity and such activities are both enabled and constrained by biological facts. 

I went on to suggest that the same is true of the spiritual activities involved in prayer.  Like most animals, human beings have an evolved capacity to infer what is invisible from what is visible.  When a polar bear is hunting, it does not look for anything that looks like a seal.  It looks for mist coming from a hole in the ice.  A human hunter tracking prey looks first not for the animal itself but for signs of its passing and course. 

Unlike all other animals, the human ape has a robust capacity for forming a theory of mind.  This means that I understand that other people and other animals have minds like I do and I can use this fact to predict their behavior and engage with them.  This capacity underwrites both our social lives and our animal husbandry. 

Inclined by our evolved capacities to look for signs of what is invisible and to infer intentions and will behind visible behavior, it is not difficult to understand how this ape learned to pray.  Of course, these instincts can lead to mistakes.  The erupting volcano is not really angry nor do the entrails of the bird really indicate the will of the gods.  Or so I suppose. 

However, that does not mean that prayer is always or even mostly a mistake.  All prayer is a turning of the human mind toward the divine.  In that sense it is like treasure hunting, which can be understood regardless of whether there is treasure underneath the X.  Understanding how our evolved inclinations make prayer possible and how they influence its expressions cannot tell us whether the object of that turning exists or what its character is.  Such an understanding certainly does not allow us to infer that the treasure does not exist. 

Steven Pinker has a piece in The New Republic attacking the critics of “scientism”.  This is a pejorative term meaning in general the idea that science can explain everything and (always) in particular, the idea that science can explain something the critic does not want science to explain.  The term is typically deployed against those who inquire into the evolutionary and developmental roots of human culture. 

Pinker thinks that science and the humanities are not at odds with one another.  He makes a strong case and one with which I am largely in agreement.  To add my own two cents, evolutionary science can tell you a lot about why Romeo and Juliet were attracted to one another.  It can tell you a lot about why we love such stories.  Human beings are sexually reproducing creatures.  Our mating behavior is extraordinarily rich in the psychological depth of our displays and motives.  Each of us is interested, obviously, in our own loves and lusts and (almost as obviously) in those involved in third party arrangements.  Our interest in Romeo and Juliet is intelligible. 

Pinker draws a useful distinct between intelligibility and reductionism. 

Demonizers of scientism often confuse intelligibility with a sin called reductionism. But to explain a complex happening in terms of deeper principles is not to discard its richness. No sane thinker would try to explain World War I in the language of physics, chemistry, and biology as opposed to the more perspicuous language of the perceptions and goals of leaders in 1914 Europe. At the same time, a curious person can legitimately ask why human minds are apt to have such perceptions and goals, including the tribalism, overconfidence, and sense of honor that fell into a deadly combination at that historical moment.

Yes.  The laws of physics, chemistry, and biology were in full force when a bullet pierced the shirt of the Archduke Ferdinand.  If biology has something to offer here, it is because biology has principles that are not derivable from chemistry and physics.  Likewise, historical analysis must determine factors (chance and culture) that are not derivable from biology. 

While Pinker thinks that science and the humanities are not at odds with one another, he clearly does think that science rules out certain ways of thinking about the human things. 

The moral worldview of any scientifically literate person—one who is not blinkered by fundamentalism—requires a radical break from religious conceptions of meaning and value.

To begin with, the findings of science entail that the belief systems of all the world’s traditional religions and cultures—their theories of the origins of life, humans, and societies—are factually mistaken. We know, but our ancestors did not, that humans belong to a single species of African primate that developed agriculture, government, and writing late in its history. We know that our species is a tiny twig of a genealogical tree that embraces all living things and that emerged from prebiotic chemicals almost four billion years ago. We know that we live on a planet that revolves around one of a hundred billion stars in our galaxy, which is one of a hundred billion galaxies in a 13.8-billion-year-old universe, possibly one of a vast number of universes. We know that our intuitions about space, time, matter, and causation are incommensurable with the nature of reality on scales that are very large and very small. We know that the laws governing the physical world (including accidents, disease, and other misfortunes) have no goals that pertain to human well-being. There is no such thing as fate, providence, karma, spells, curses, augury, divine retribution, or answered prayers—though the discrepancy between the laws of probability and the workings of cognition may explain why people believe there are. And we know that we did not always know these things, that the beloved convictions of every time and culture may be decisively falsified, doubtless including some we hold today.

I happen to believe most of what Pinker states in that passage, but I am pretty sure that I do not know any of it and neither does he.  I am very dubious about “spells, curses, [and] augury” but I cannot think of what science I can rely on to rule out “fate, providence, karma, divine retribution, or answered prayers”.  In fact, I know that such things cannot be ruled out because that would depend on assumptions that science requires but cannot establish.  Science assumes uniformity in physical laws both across space and time, for which reason it rules out miracles.  Such an assumption is very useful and indeed very powerful; however, it is still just an assumption.  It cannot be verified by scientific reasoning since the latter requires it.  If there were, indeed, an omnipotent God, outside of time and space (an alternative assumption) then quite literally everything goes. 

Still, it was right for Pinker to issue this challenge.  It is quite true that science is not the enemy of the humanities.  I would go further to say that it is not the enemy of religion either.  This does not mean that is rests comfortably with either.  Science should make us uncomfortable. 

Leo Strauss argued that one of the great sources of vitality in Western Civilization is the conflict between reason and revelation.  From the time of Thomas Aquinas, to be sure, intelligent persons have had to wrestle with two claims to wisdom.  While I think that Pinker is right to push the claims of science as authoritative, I am also grateful for the honorable opposition.  All science is just a special case of philosophy.  Philosophy is rooted in the knowledge of what one does not know.  Without religion, who would continue to remind those of a scientific mind that they do not know what they think they know?