"Medieval Aristotelianism and the Case against Secondary
Causation in Nature," pp. 74-118 in Thomas V. Morris, ed., Divine and
Human Action: Essays in the Metaphysics of Theism (Ithaca, NY: Cornell
University Press, 1988).
MEDIEVAL ARISTOTELIANISM AND THE CASE
AGAINST SECONDARY CAUSATION IN NATURE
Alfred J. Freddoso
University of Notre Dame
1. Introduction
Central to the western theistic understanding of divine providence is
the conviction that God is the sovereign Lord of nature. He created the
physical universe and continually conserves it in existence. What's more,
He is always and everywhere active in it by His power. The operations of
nature, be they minute or catastrophic, commonplace or unprecedented, are
the work of His hands, and without His constant causal influence none of
them would or could occur.
The Judaic Scriptures speak frequently and eloquently of the pervasiveness
of God's causal activity. In a memorable rebuke to Job, Yahweh asks bitingly:
Who has laid out a channel for the downpour and for the
thunderstorm a path
To bring rain to no man's land, the unpeopled wilderness;
To enrich the waste and desolate ground till the desert
blooms with verdure?
Has the rain a father; or who has begotten the drops of
dew?
Out of whose womb comes the ice, and who gives the hoarfrost
its birth in the skies? (Job 38:25-29) /75/
Nor is it only inanimate nature that Yahweh incessantly guides by His invisible
hand:
Do you hunt the prey for the lioness or appease the hunger
of her cubs,
While they crouch in their dens or lie in wait in the
thicket?
Who puts wisdom in the heart, and gives the cock its
understanding?
Who provides the nourishment for the ravens when their
young ones cry out to God, and they rove abroad without food? (Job 38:39-41)
And in a cosmic hymn of praise near the end of the book of Psalms the entire
created universe is enjoined to pay homage to the almighty creator whose
decrees it obeys:
Praise Him, sun and moon; praise Him, all you shining
stars.
Praise Him, you highest heavens, and you waters above
the heavens.
Let them praise the name of the Lord, for He commanded
and they were created;
He established them forever and ever; He gave them a
duty which shall not pass away.
Praise the Lord from the earth, you sea monsters and all
depths;
Fire and hail, snow and mist, storm winds that fulfill
His word.
You mountains and all you hills, you fruit trees and
all you cedars;
You wild beasts and all tame animals, you creeping things
and you winged fowl. (Psalm 148: 3-10)
The Koran is no less insistent upon the ubiquitousness of God's causal
activity:
Allah is He Who raised up the heavens without any pillars
that you can see. Then He settled Himself on the Throne, and constrained
the sun and the moon to serve you; each planet pursues its course during
an appointed term. He regulates it all and expounds the Signs, that you
may have firm belief in the meeting with your Lord. He it is Who spread
out the earth and made therein firmly fixed mountains and rivers, and of
fruits of every kind He has made pairs. He causes the night to cover the
day. In all this, verily, are Signs for a people who /76/ reflect. In the
earth are diverse tracts adjoining one another, and vineyards, and corn-fields
and date-palms, some growing from one root and others from separate roots,
which are irrigated by the same water, and yet We make some of them excel
others in the quality of their fruits. Therein also are Signs for a people
who understand. (13:2-5)
Even though this essay is concerned only with the role God plays in the
production of effects in nature, it is also worth noting that the sacred
writers do not shy away from counting even the free actions of rational
creatures as products of God's ever-present causal influence: "O Lord,
You mete out peace to us, for it is You who have accomplished all we have
done" (Isaiah 26:12). In two passages destined to be cited often in the
medieval Christian debates over divine causation, St. Paul emphatically
reiterates this attribution of good deeds to God: "There are different
works but the same God who accomplishes all of them in everyone" (1 Corinthians
12:6); and again, "It is not that we are entitled of ourselves to credit
for anything. Our sole credit is from God" (2 Corinthians 3:5). As Paul
puts it in summation, "He is not far from any of us, since it is in Him
that we live, and move, and have our being" (Acts 17:27-28).
Given such powerful foundational sentiments, it is little wonder that
theistic philosophers have through the centuries felt impelled to address
the metaphysical questions quite inevitably prompted by the belief that
God is actively involved in the production of effects in nature.1
All
have agreed that God is the primary or first cause of every
natural phenomenon. But some have gone on, rather astonishingly, to make
the additional claim that God is the only cause of such phenomena.
In other words, they have denied that there is any such thing as genuine
secondary (i.e., creaturely) causation in nature. In keeping with
common usage I will call this position occasionalism, and, leaving
aside for now various subtle and necessary qualifications, I will take
as representative occasionalists al-Ghazali and Gabriel Biel from the middle
ages and Nicholas Malebranche and George Berkeley from the modern era.2
/77/
Occasionalism is a remarkably devout theory of divine causation that
(perhaps surprisingly, but, then again, perhaps not) managed to attract
far wider and deeper support within the increasingly secularized atmosphere
of pre-Kantian modern philosophy than it ever did within the unabashedly
religious milieu of late medieval scholasticism. Nonetheless, we cannot
fully appreciate thinkers like Malebranche and Berkeley unless we understand
the fact that their views about the extent of God's causal role in nature,
far from popping into existence ex nihilo in the 17th and 18th centuries,
emerged instead from a long, even if never dominant, tradition in theistic
philosophy--a tradition whose Christian spokesmen have always been eager
to trace back to St. Augustine, a hero whom they regard as untainted by
the corrupting influence of Aristotelian naturalism.
My aim here is to take a first small step toward determining whether
occasionalism can provide theists with a plausible and satisfying philosophy
of nature, one that passes both philosophical and theological muster. Specifically,
I explore the nature of and motivations for occasionalism, contrast it
with the Aristotelianism its advocates have perennially rebelled against,
and then confront it with what I take to be the strongest objections hurled
at it by three prominent medieval Aristotelians--to wit, St. Thomas Aquinas
and the 16th century Jesuits, Luis de Molina and Francisco Suarez. The
Aristotelians do, to be sure, join with the occasionalists in (i) asserting
that God is an immediate cause of every natural effect and in (ii) rejecting
the claim that God's causal activity in nature is exhausted by His creating
and conserving material substances and their causal powers.3
But in stark /78/ opposition to the occasionalists, they hold that each
material or corporeal substance possesses and exercises its own proper
causal powers. Such powers are not, they insist, supplanted or rendered
otiose by God's causal activity in nature. Instead, God contributes to
the ordinary course of nature only as a universal or general
cause
who cooperates with or concurs with secondary causes.4
True, as Malebranche was almost maliciously fond of pointing out in retrospect,
the medieval scholastics were never able to reach an enduring consensus
about the metaphysics of God's 'general concurrence' with secondary causes.5
But here I shall simply ignore their internal disputes and focus instead
on their shared antipathy to occasionalism.
In section 2 I formulate what I believe to be the essential thesis of
occasionalism and then I will expound this thesis further in section 3,
clarifying along the way the difference between genuine efficient or active
causation and so-called occasional causation. Next, in section 4, I identify
three conceivable versions of occasionalism (viz., the no-action, no-essence
and no-nature theories) and show how each stems from a distinctive theological
motive. I go on to argue in section 5 that while some of the Aristotelian
objections to occasionalism are dialectically impotent against all three
versions, there are other objections that succeed in pushing the occasionalist
toward the no-nature theory, a theory characterized by a "radical" Berkeleyan
metaphysics that does away utterly and completely with the Aristotelian
conception of the natures of material /79/ substances. The main conclusion
is, in fact, that anyone espousing occasionalism should accept the no-nature
theory, since this is the one form of occasionalism that seems capable
of withstanding the Aristotelian onslaught. Finally, in section 6 I briefly
indicate for future discussion what I take to be the main strengths of
the no-nature theory as well as its most serious problems.
2. The essence of occasionalism
All the thinkers to be discussed in this paper take causation in the
most basic and proper sense to be a relation between substances on the
one hand and states of affairs on the other.6 Typically,
substances (agents) act upon other substances (patients) to bring about
or actualize or produce states of affairs (effects).7
So both agents and patients may properly be said to contribute causally
to the effects produced, and both acting and being acted upon may properly
be thought of as modes of causal contribution. Moreover, since causal contributions
involve the exercise of causal powers or, more generally, the actualization
of causal tendencies and dispositions, we can also distinguish active from
passive causal powers. The active causal powers of a substance delimit
the range of effects that might be produced when that substance acts on
suitably disposed patients; the passive causal powers of a substance delimit
the range of effects that might be produced when that substance is acted
upon by suitably positioned agents. (In what follows I will presuppose
a basic understanding of this distinction between active and passive causal
contribution, though I acknowledge that the distinction stands in need
of further elaboration.)
In keeping with the above remarks, I will take as undefined the causal
locution 'Substance S causally contributes to state of affairs p's obtaining
at time t.' As I am using this primitive locution, it implies that
p
in fact obtains at t. However, taken by itself, it has nothing
to say about what kinds of substances can be causal contributors. It does
not, for example, require that causal contributors be capable of acting
freely, or that they /80/ be endowed with sentient powers, or even that
they be living. So the conceptual possibility is left open that some causal
contributors, both active and passive, are non-free, non-intelligent, non-sentient,
or non-living substances.
Similarly, this undefined locution says nothing either about the time
(if any) at which S makes its causal contribution or about the specific
nature of that contribution. So, for instance, S might make its
causal contribution to p long before t and not even exist at any time proximate
to t. Again, S's causal contribution to p may be more or
less direct, more or less closely connected with S's causal tendencies
or (in the case of rational beings) intentions, and more or less determinative
of the specific character of the effect in question.8
Finally, S's causal contribution might be either wholly active,
wholly passive, or active in one respect and passive in another. (This
last alternative occurs, for instance, when a substance brings about changes
in itself, or when a substance is employed as an instrument or tool by
some 'principal' agent.)
In what follows I will be interested mainly in active or efficient causation,
and accordingly I will now define two further notions:
The philosophers discussed all hold, first, that no substance other than
God can be a strong active cause of any state of affairs and, second, that
God is in fact a strong active cause of at least some states of affairs.
Each of these tenets is a non-negotiable element of orthodox western theism.
The first is based on sacred writings like those adduced above, /81/ writings
that underscore the radical dependence creatures have on God for their
being and causal efficacy (if any). The second is entailed by the doctrine
of creation ex nihilo as well as by the doctrine, properly understood,
that no created thing can remain in existence for any interval of time
without being directly conserved by God throughout that interval.9
Given
the rhetorical excesses of certain occasionalists (Malebranche comes immediately
to mind), one might at first be tempted to characterize occasionalism as
the thesis that for any state of affairs p and time t, if
there is any substance at all that causally contributes to p's obtaining
at t, then God is a strong active cause of p at t.
This would make God the sole efficient cause of every effect
produced in the created world, including all those involving rational creatures.
In the history of the debate over secondary causation, Aristotelians
have sometimes tried to saddle occasionalists with this alarmingly strong
thesis and then to discredit them in the eyes of religious believers by
pointing out that what follows is a manifestly unorthodox denial of human
free choice. For instance, after attributing to Gabriel Biel and Peter
D'Ailly the claim that secondary 'causes' bring about nothing at all, Molina
continues: "Now if this view is understood to apply to all causes in general,
even to the will and to free choice, as its authors seem to intend, then
... clearly it must be judged as an error from the point of view of the
faith; for it completely destroys our freedom of choice and thus robs our
works of every vestige of virtue and vice, of merit and demerit, of praise
and blame, of reward and punishment."10 Suarez inveighs
in like manner against those who reject the principle that creatures have
and exercise active causal power: "What's more, there are other truths
of the faith that cannot stand without this principle. The first and most
important of these is the truth of free choice, which cannot consist in
anything but a power and manner of acting ... Thus the Council of Trent
(session 6, canon 4) condemns those who claim that created free choice
'does not act at all, and is purely passive'."11
However, as far as I have been able to tell, no important occasionalist
has ever in fact intended to deny that there is such a thing as creaturely
/82/ free choice or that such free choice involves a genuine active causal
power to produce effects. (Just which effects is a matter I will
take up in a moment.) Al-Ghazali and Berkeley, for instance, clearly believe
that there are created spiritual substances with the active power of free
choice. Even Malebranche, who wonders aloud whether free choice can properly
be called a 'power', nonetheless recoils from the thought that our sinful
deeds might be ascribable solely to God as an active cause.12
What's more, in the text cited by Molina, Biel is comparing the causal
genesis of natural effects with the causal genesis of grace through the
sacraments, and in such a context one would not antecedently expect to
find any explicit discussion at all of free, as opposed to natural,
causation.13 So in all fairness we should, it seems,
define occasionalism in a way that prescinds from questions concerning
God's causal influence on creaturely free choice.
All the philosophers we are dealing with here are libertarians; that
is, they hold that a substance S is a free cause of p
at
t only if (i) S has a rational nature, i.e., is endowed with
higher intellective and volitional capacities, (ii) S is an active
cause of p at t, and (iii) S's causally contributing
to p's obtaining at t does not itself obtain by a necessity
of nature. This third condition must, of course, be spelled out in more
detail, and I have attempted to do this elsewhere.14
But the intuition underlying it is clear enough for our present purposes:
if an act is free, then it does not issue forth in a deterministic manner
from the causal history of the world.
Notice, by the way, that despite the tendency of many 16th century Thomists
(the Banezians) to characterize God's causal influence on human action
in very strong terms, these thinkers would nonetheless accept all three
of the conditions on free causation just laid out. Their dispute with 'strong'
libertarians (the Molinists) has to do with the intrinsic nature of God's
contemporaneous
causal contribution to free action rather than with the causal history
of the world at the relevant moment. This issue, too, I have dealt with
in more detail elsewhere.15 We are now ready to state
the essential thesis of occasionalism: /83/
(OCC) For any state of affairs p and time
t,
if (i) there is any substance that causally contributes to p's obtaining
at t and (ii) no created substance is a free cause of p at
t,
then God is a strong active cause of p at t.
So, according to occasionalism, God is the sole efficient cause of every
state of affairs that is brought about in "pure" nature, i.e., in that
segment of the universe not subject to the causal influence of creatures
who are acting freely. Interestingly, however, even this seemingly minor
limitation on the extent of God's causal influence turns out to be less
restrictive than one might at first expect. To see this clearly, and also
to get a deeper understanding of the spirit behind occasionalism, we will
have to take a brief but, I hope, illuminating excursion into the metaphysics
of efficient causation.
3. Real and occasional causes
Occasionalists have been wont to draw a sharp distinction between genuine
or
real or proper causation on the one hand and so-called
occasional
or sine qua non causation on the other.16 Molina gives this
concise summary of Biel's discussion of causation:
He is of the opinion that secondary causes bring about
nothing at all, but that God by Himself alone produces all the effects
in them and in their presence, so that fire does not produce heat and the
sun does not give light, but instead it is God who produces these effects
in them and in their presence. Hence ... he claims that secondary causes
are not properly causes in the sense of having an influence on the
effect; for it is only the First Cause which he affirms to be a cause in
this sense, whereas secondary causes, he claims, should be called causes
sine
qua non, insofar as God has decided not to produce the effect except
when they are present ... He also asserts with Peter D'Ailly that when
God produces an effect in conjunction with a secondary cause, e.g., heat
in conjunction with fire, He contributes no less than He would contribute
were He to produce the same effect by Himself--in fact, He brings about
more, since not only does He produce the heat with a concurrence just as
great as if the fire were not present, but He also brings it about that
the fire too is in its own way a cause of the heat.17 /84/
On Biel's account, occasional or sine qua non causation turns out to be
little more than the mere counterfactual dependence of the 'effect' on
the 'cause'. (In fact, to be perfectly accurate, Biel defines causation
itself wholly in terms of counterfactual dependence, and then treats
proper
causation and sine qua non causation as two species of causation
so defined--where it is only 'proper' causation that involves the actual
derivation of the effect from the cause. I will pass over in silence this
rather puzzling use of the term 'proper'.) More precisely,
x is
an occasional cause of y just in case (i) x is posited, (ii)
if x is posited, then y is posited, (iii) if
x were
not posited, then y would not be posited in the same way, and (iv)
it is not the case that y's being posited results from the exercise
of any causal power on the part of x.18
So, for instance, if this fire is an occasional cause of the
searing of this flesh, then it is not the case that the fire acts in such
a way as to sear the flesh. Rather, the fire is an occasional cause of
the searing of the flesh simply by virtue of the fact that the real
or
proper cause of the searing of the flesh, viz., God, would not have
seared the flesh in the same way had the fire not been present. In general,
then, an occasional cause is not such that the effect is derived from
it or made to occur by it; nor does it exercise power or
exert influence of any sort. Such conditions are satisfied only
by those causes that are proper or real or genuine causes.
(Notice, by the way, that classical occasionalists explicitly acknowledge
God to be a real cause of natural effects; and so, unlike Hume and
his progeny, occasionalists are not interested in reducing all causation
to some sort of mere counterfactual dependence.)
It is clear, I trust, that the primitive causal locution I introduced
above was meant to express real or proper causation rather than mere counterfactual
dependence. That is to say, S causally contributes to p's
obtaining only if p's obtaining derives (at least in part) from
S's
exercising or actualizing some causal power. Thus, S's presence
in a set of circumstances in which p is made to obtain never by
itself suffices for it to be the case that S causally contributes
to p's obtaining--even if p's obtaining is counterfactually
dependent on S's presence.
Now an occasional cause is not an instrumental cause,
at least not if the notion of instrumental causality is explicated plausibly.
An instrumental cause is a genuine causal contributor--more specifically,
a genuine efficient or active cause.19 To be sure, the pen I am using to
write /85/ this paper cannot on its own be an active cause of the
paper's being written. Nonetheless, it does have active causal powers that
are exercised under the right sort of conditions to produce an effect whose
specific characteristics derive in part from the nature of those powers.
When this particular pen is moved in the right way by the right sort of
'principal' agent, it is an instrumental cause that actively contributes
to the paper's being written, and to its being written in black (say) rather
than blue or red ink, and to its being written in ink of this consistency
rather than of some other consistency, etc. By contrast, a merely occasional
cause is such that there just is no direct natural connection between its
causal properties (if any) and the specific character of the effect.20
If God alone properly causes the flesh to be seared in the presence of
the fire, then there is no exercise of an active causal power on the part
of the fire. Thus God is in no sense using the fire as an instrument
to
produce the searing of the flesh. Indeed, He could just as easily decide
to refrigerate the flesh when it is brought close to the fire--and in that
case, according to the occasionalists, the fire would be a 'cause' of the
flesh's being cooled in exactly the same sense as that in which
it is now a 'cause' of the flesh's being seared. There is thus no natural
or intrinsic connection between the character of the effect (searing) and
the nature of the fire or its powers. Molina is not slow to seize upon
this point in order to demonstrate just how weak the notion of an occasional
cause is: "Since God is just as able to make a given thing cold in the
presence of fire and to make it hot in the presence of water as vice versa,
fire could just as easily be a cause of cooling and water of heating as
vice versa. Indeed, since God could create an angel or some other thing
in the presence of a rock, a rock could be a cause of creation--which,
even though Gabriel concedes it, is obviously as absurd as can be."21
Nor can occasional causes be either advising causes or disposing
causes,
as these notions are normally understood in Aristotelian theories of efficient
causation. An advising cause of an effect E is, roughly, a rational
agent who--by means of counsel, inducement, provocation, /86/ request,
persuasion, threat, command, prohibition, etc.-- influences another agent
to contribute freely to E. This, of course, is just the familiar
sort of causal influence we ordinarily have on one another's free actions.
As should be obvious, an advising cause is a genuine efficient or
active
cause. For instance, when I threaten to withhold my daughter Katie's
allowance, I bring about in her a change of belief regarding whether her
announced course of action is, all things considered, the most desirable.
When she then chooses to act in an alternate way, I am said to be an advising
cause of this piece of free behavior on her part. In Aristotelian jargon,
I am a perfecting cause of Katie's new belief and an advising
cause
of the free behavior that issues from that belief.22
So no occasional cause is an advising cause, nor is any advising cause
as such a mere occasional cause. In some cases this is perfectly obvious:
a fire is not a rational agent and hence cannot, as it were, 'persuade'
God to sear human flesh brought close to it. As we shall see in a moment,
however, an occasionalist might be tempted to regard the free choices of
rational creatures as, in effect, pieces of advice to God about how He
ought to act in the realm of nature.
A substance is a disposing cause with respect to an effect E
when
it produces in some patient a condition required in order for
E to
be brought about in the way that it is fact brought about. For instance,
the farmer is typically a disposing cause of the corn's growing in the
soil: by plowing, planting, fertilizing, etc., the farmer produces (i.e.,
brings to perfection or completion) in the relevant patients many of the
conditions required for healthy cornstalks to be generated in the ordinary
way. So, once again, as with the advising cause, the disposing cause of
an effect E causally contributes to E by virtue of being
a perfecting cause of certain other effects that are preliminary to E.
Hence, it cannot be a mere occasional cause of its effects.
Now let us return to (OCC) and to the question of just which states
of affairs created substances might, on the occasionalist view, be free
causes of. Suppose that Stephen freely puts a kettle of water over a gas
flame and that a few minutes later the water begins to boil. To many it
will seem evident that Stephen is an active cause of the water's boiling
at the time in question. They will reason as follows: True, /87/ Stephen
could not by himself alone, without relying in some way on the active powers
of other substances, have caused the water to boil. Nonetheless, he freely
initiated a genuine causal sequence by putting the kettle over the flame.
More specifically, by exercising his active causal powers he brought
it about that other substances (e.g., the gas flame, the metal constituting
the bottom of the kettle) exercised their active causal powers in
the relevant way. It follows that Stephen was an active cause of the water's
boiling. The only remaining question has to do with what sort of
active cause he was. Some might argue that he was merely a disposing
cause
who put other substances (e.g., the gas flame) into a position to be perfecting
causes of the water's boiling. Others might retort, less plausibly at first
glance, that he himself was a perfecting principal cause who was
using the other substances as his instruments. Yet whatever might be said
about that issue, it is beyond dispute that Stephen caused the water to
boil.23
An occasionalist, however, cannot endorse this line of reasoning. For,
according to occasionalism, the boiling of the water does not in any way
derive from the action of the fire or of any other material substance.
To the contrary, God alone is a direct active cause of the water's boiling.
An immediate consequence is that Stephen cannot be either a principal cause
or a disposing cause of the boiling of the water in the ways just suggested.
He cannot be a principal cause who uses the fire as his instrument, because
the fire is an instrumental cause of the effect only if it is an active
cause of the effect. But this is ruled out by occasionalism. Likewise,
Stephen is a disposing cause in the manner described above only if the
fire is a perfecting cause of the water's boiling. But this, once again,
is ruled out by occasionalism.
But perhaps we are being too hasty here. Perhaps we should rethink the
whole issue before us in the way that the occasionalist theory ostensibly
invites us to, viz., by substituting God for the relevant natural substances
such as the fire and the metal pot. Can Stephen in that case be reasonably
regarded as an active cause of the water's boiling?
Presumably, to begin with, everyone will agree that Stephen cannot be
a principal cause who is using God as his instrument, and so he cannot
in that sense be a perfecting cause of the water's boiling.
What's more, occasionalists still cannot grant that Stephen is even
a /88/ disposing cause of the boiling of the water. Recall that a disposing
cause of an effect E produces in some patient a condition required
in
order for E to be brought about in the way that it is fact brought
about. That is, there must be some intrinsic or natural
connection
between the disposing cause's preparatory activity and E's being
brought about in the way it is. But if occasionalism is true, then there
is no such connection between any human action and any effect brought about
in nature. Whenever God brings about E, His action in bringing about
E, i.e., His causal contribution to E, is exactly the same
whether or not there has been any antecedent activity on the part of finite
free agents, and regardless of the nature of any such activity.24
Even if God has decided to act in such a way that He ordinarily brings
about E only when finite free agents have first acted in certain
ways, this implies only that the finite agents are serving as an occasion
for
God's producing E, not that they are disposing causes of
E.
Someone might suggest at this point that Stephen's freely putting the
water over the flame renders him an advising cause who by his free action
influences God (in a non-deterministic manner) to cause the water to boil.
However, this line of reasoning is also flawed, and in at least two
distinct ways. First, all the occasionalists I know of would eschew even
the faintest hint that any creature has any sort of causal
power over God's actions. Nor is this attitude peculiar to occasionalists;
philosophical theologians have traditionally held that the divine perfection
absolutely excludes God's being acted upon as a causal patient by any creature.
Second, it seems at least mildly outrageous to claim that all of
our free actions might be signs to God of what we would like Him to do.
Our freely offered petitionary prayers undoubtedly count as such. But can
the same be said of, say, Stephen's putting a kettle of water on a stove
under ordinary circumstances? Clearly not.
Notice that these arguments are perfectly general. So even though in
setting up the example I seemed to be conceding that a finite free agent
might cause a change in some other substance (e.g., that Stephen /89/ might
move the kettle from one place to another), the same considerations will
apply to this alleged effect of Stephen's as well. In that case, however,
the occasionalist still has not found a way to accommodate the common view
that free creatures often make genuine causal contributions to states of
affairs that go beyond their own free acts of will and simple bodily movements.
In fact, the occasionalist may not even be entitled to claim that we
are proper or real causes of our own bodily movements. For in eliciting
(to use the scholastic term) acts of will we might turn out to be nothing
more than occasional causes of simple bodily movements. Malebranche enthusiastically
embraces this conclusion, since he sees in occasionalism a theoretically
satisfying account of how mind and body are interrelated. Mind and body
do not causally interact with one another, but this, he avers, is merely
a special instance of the more general truth that no creature, be it corporeal
or spiritual, causally acts upon any other creature. Instead, it is God
alone who coordinates created effects in general and who guarantees the
customary concatenation of mental and bodily events in particular.25
Berkeley, by contrast, has deep misgivings about the claim that free
creatures are active causes only of their own acts of will. In the Philosophical
Commentaries he asserts that "we move our legs our selves," and that,
contrary to what Malebranche thinks, it is not just God who moves our legs
on the occasion of our willing that our legs move.26
And in the Three Dialogues, when Hylas charges in effect that (OCC)
makes God Himself responsible for the most heinous sins, Philonous replies
in part: "I have nowhere said that God is the only agent who produces all
the motions in bodies. It is true, I have denied there are any other agents
beside spirits: but this is very consistent with allowing to thinking rational
beings, in the production of motions, the use of limited powers, ultimately
indeed derived from God, but immediately under the direction of their own
wills, which is sufficient to entitle them to all the guilt of their actions."27
But this reply immediately suggests a difficulty. Suppose that I move
my leg and that at the same time the shoe on my foot moves along with it.
Can Berkeley consistently grant that I have moved my shoe as /90/ well
as my leg? We have already seen enough to know that on the occasionalist
view my leg cannot count as an instrument by means of which I move the
shoe. The leg, after all, is a corporeal substance and hence cannot be
'put into action' by a principal agent. The close correlation between the
leg's movement and the shoe's movement is entirely God's doing. Nor, as
we have seen, can I plausibly be regarded as a disposing or advising cause
of the shoe's moving, and this by virtue of the fact that I will to
move my leg. It seems to follow from what Berkeley says that I can move
my leg and even my foot, but not my shoe!
Though this is by no means the last word, I believe that Malebranche
has the better of the argument here. Be that as it may, my purpose so far
in the paper has merely been to define occasionalism with a modicum of
rigor and to show that it must place severe limitations on the causal influence
of free creatures in order to remain faithful to its root conviction that
God is a strong active cause of effects in nature. In short, according
to occasionalism free creatures causally contribute at most to their own
basic actions, and it may even be that those basic actions include only
their own acts of will.
Another question raised by (OCC) is this: Do occasionalists mean to
exclude the exercise of passive as well as active causal
power on the part of creatures? There seems to be no unanimity on this
point. Malebranche, for instance, attributes to matter the three essential
properties of impenetrability, infinite divisibility and magnitude, each
of which seems to delimit in some (perhaps fairly minimal) way the sorts
of effects that can be produced when a material body is acted upon.28
So, for instance, if bodies A and B are essentially impenetrable,
then God cannot cause B to pass through A (though He could,
of course, bring it about that when B comes into contact with A,
instead of being deflected it immediately comes to occupy the very same
place it would have occupied had it passed through A). By contrast, Berkeley
and (in at least one place) al-Ghazali seem to look upon passive powers
with as much suspicion as active ones, since both kinds of power would
impose restrictions on the manner in which God acts in nature.29
What's more, /91/ it is arguable that a corporeal substance's having passive
causal powers entails its also having some active causal powers,
at least to the extent that its passive powers render it apt to be used
as an instrumental efficient cause. For instance, even as minimal a property
as impenetrability is such that a body which has it can be used by a suitably
situated agent (God, at least) as an instrument to deflect other bodies.
I will not press this point any further here, but will return to it below.
4. Three brands of occasionalism
Given that (OCC) captures the essence of occasionalism, there are at
least three interestingly different theories about God and nature that
share (OCC). I do not claim that any philosopher has ever actually held
either of the first two theories. Rather, I am employing them as "useful
fictions" designed to help us (i) isolate three distinct motives for occasionalism
and (ii) reconstruct in an informative way the dialectic by which the Aristotelian
arguments push all occasionalists in the direction of a Berkeleyan philosophy
of nature.
The first, which I will call the no-action theory, combines (OCC)
with a robust essentialist account of material substance. The essentialist
element of the theory (at least as I will be using the term 'essentialist'
here) is encapsulated by the following two theses:30
(E1) It is metaphysically necessary that for any
material substance x, there is a (lowest-level) natural kind K
such
that x essentially instantiates K.
(E2) For every (lowest-level) natural kind K,
there is a non-empty set P of active and passive causal powers such
that it is metaphysically necessary that a substance instantiates K
if
and only if it instantiates every member of P.
So on the no-action theory, non-free creatures never exercise any
active causal power, even though each one has such power essentially.
As we will see in section 5, something like the no-action theory serves
/92/ as the apparent target of many of the Aristotelian anti-occasionalist
arguments, despite the fact that in all likelihood no occasionalist has
ever actually held this theory. Still, I want to ask what sort of argument
a theistic philosopher might be able to give for the no-action theory.
There is an alternative and perhaps more revealing way of stating my
objective here. As will become clear in a moment, the best-known arguments
for occasionalism involve a denial of essentialism with respect to material
substances, as defined by (E1) and (E2). But it seems perfectly possible
to assert (OCC) or something very much like it without even addressing
the issue of whether essentialism is true. So even if the no-action theory
seems extremely implausible, the following question is still worth considering:
Is there any philosophically interesting argument for (OCC) that does not
involve a denial of either (E1) or (E2)?
Ironically, it is Suarez, rather than any occasionalist, who gives the
most penetrating answer to this question. After introducing the thesis
that "created things do nothing, but God brings about everything in their
presence," he goes on to comment:
I do not see a foundation for this position that carries
any weight. Yet its principal foundation seems to have been that to whatever
extent efficient causality is attributed to the creature, to that extent
the divine power of the creator is diminished; for either God does everything,
or He does not do everything; the latter detracts from the divine efficacy,
and for this reason we will show below that it is false and erroneous,
since it implies that something exists without depending on God. But if
God does everything, then I ask again whether He does it immediately and
by a power that is sufficient, or only mediately and by a power that is
not sufficient. The latter detracts from the divine perfection. But if
the former is true, then any other efficient causation is superfluous,
since one sufficient and efficacious cause is enough to produce the effect.31
What we have here is a challenge to those who, like the medieval Christian
Aristotelians, claim that there is a via media between occasionalism
and the theory on which God contributes to natural effects only mediately,
i.e., by creating and conserving material substances and their powers.
For if God is an immediate active cause of every effect brought
about in the realm of pure nature, then non-free creatures are immediate
active causes of natural effects only if some such effects /93/ come immediately
from both God and creatures. But, the argument goes, it is impossible to
give a coherent and theologically orthodox account of how an effect might
be brought about directly or immediately by both God and a creature--i.e.,
an account that does not render one of those alleged causal contributions
wholly redundant. But God's contribution is on all accounts non-redundant.
Therefore, God is the sole active cause of every effect in nature.
This argument is certainly much stronger than Suarez's introductory
remark would lead one to believe. How, after all, can God be thought to
cooperate or concur with creatures without compromising His perfection
in general or His omnipotence in particular? Despite Suarez's evident confidence
in the truth of his own position, the scholastics could reach no agreement
on this matter--a point that, as I mentioned above, Malebranche was especially
delighted to emphasize. So one reason for embracing (OCC) is the conviction
that the only philosophically respectable alternative to it is a view according
to which God is not an immediate cause of natural effects.32
4.2 The No-essence Theory
The second brand of occasionalism is what I shall call the no-essence
theory. According to this theory, even if material substances have
active and passive causal powers, they do not have such powers essentially
or by nature. More precisely, the no-essence theory accepts (OCC) but rejects
both (E1) and (E2) in favor of the anti-essentialist thesis that no material
substance has any of its causal powers essentially.33
The chief motivation for the no-essence theory is the conviction that
if material substances had their causal powers essentially, then there
would be constraints on God's power that are both philosophically repugnant
and, given the authenticity of certain miracle stories from the sacred
texts, theologically untenable. Suppose, for instance, that this human
flesh (say, the flesh of Shadrach) is essentially or by nature /94/ such
that if it is exposed to extreme heat in the absence of impediments (e.g.,
asbestos clothing), it is incinerated; and suppose further that this fire
(say, the fire of Nebuchadnezzar's furnace) is essentially or by nature
such that in the absence of impediments it automatically, as it were, incinerates
unprotected human flesh brought into suitable proximity to it. What follows,
the occasionalists claim, is that according to essentialism it is metaphysically
necessary for this flesh to be incinerated when brought into contact
with this fire in the absence of natural impediments--a claim confirmed
and, indeed, insisted upon by such contemporary essentialists as
Rom Harre and Edward Madden.34 Any alleged human flesh
not incinerated under such conditions would not be real human flesh;
by the same token, any supposedly raging fire that did not incinerate unprotected
human flesh brought near it would not be real fire. Or so, at least,
essentialists seem bound to hold. And yet, the occasionalists retort, the
sacred writings tell of God's miraculously sparing (real) human beings
thrown unprotected into (real) raging infernos.35 That
is, according to the sacred writings it is possible for real human flesh
to be exposed to real raging fire and yet not be incinerated. The Bible
and the Koran line up on one side, Aristotle and his heathen friends on
the other; one must choose between the faith and the philosophers.
This anti-essentialist argument should sound familiar, since it is epitomized
by the famous philosophical bromide that there is no necessary connection
between cause and effect. That is, roughly, there are no non-trivial conceptual
limits on what sorts of causal transformations are possible. Thus al-Ghazali:
In our view the connection between what are believed
to be the cause and the effect is not necessary. Take any two things. This
is not That; nor can That be This. The affirmation of the one does not
imply /95/ the affirmation of the other; nor does its denial imply the
denial of the other. The existence of the one is not necessitated by the
existence of the other; nor its non-existence by the non-existence of the
other. Take for instance any two things, such as the quenching of thirst
and drinking; satisfaction of hunger and eating; burning and contact with
fire; light and the rise of the Sun; death and the severance of the head
from the trunk; healing and the use of medicine; the loosening of the bowels
and the use of a purgative ... They are connected as the result of the
Decree of God (holy be His name), which preceded their existence. If one
follows the other, it is because He has created them in that fashion, not
because the connection in itself is necessary and indissoluble ...
Let us consider only one example--viz., the burning of
a piece of cotton at the time of its contact with fire. We admit the possibility
of a contact between the two which will not result in burning ... [The
philosophers] reject this possibility.36
This, of course, is similar to the billiard-ball argument which Hume found
in Malebranche and whose non-theological counterpart he proceeded to make
famous in the English-speaking philosophical world. Notice, there is no
little irony involved in the fact that Ghazali's argument should have been
taken over by such a sceptic about miracles as Hume, given that the argument
was originally prompted by the belief that God had miraculously saved His
faithful servants from being incinerated!
But what exactly is wrong with essentialism? After all, even an essentialist
can allow that God is able, say, to change the flesh of Shadrach into stone
for the duration of his sojourn in the furnace, or to put an invisible
heat-resistant shield between him and the fire.
Occasionalists are wholly unwilling to settle for this concession. God,
they will insist, does not have to act in opposition to his creatures
from
without, as it were; He does not have to vie with them in order to
exercise control over them. Rather, He controls them from within
as their sovereign creator and governor. They are beholden to His word:
He can command the fire not to burn the flesh even while it remains fire;
He can suspend the flesh's susceptibility to being incinerated without
changing it into a different substance or altering its natural kind. Only
those whose piety has been corrupted by the philosophers will disagree.
al-Ghazali puts it this way:
[The philosophers say:] Whenever we suppose fire with
all its qualities, and suppose two similar pieces of cotton which are exposed
to fire in /96/ the same way, how can we conceive that one of them should
burn, and the other should not? There is no alternative for the other piece.
(From this idea, they come to disbelieve the story that when Abraham was
thrown into fire, burning did not happen, although fire continued to be
fire. They assert that this cannot happen, unless fire should be devoid
of heat (which would put an end to its being fire), or unless Abraham's
person or body should turn into a stone or something else which might resist
the influence of fire. And, they add, neither this nor that is possible.)37
On al-Ghazali's view, then, material substances may have active (and passive)
causal powers as long as God has full control over these powers "from the
inside," i.e., as long as no creature has any such power essentially or
with metaphysical necessity. So I will take the no-essence theory to consist
of (i) (OCC), (ii) the anti-essentialist thesis that no material substance
has any causal power essentially, and (iii) the claim that every material
substance has active causal powers. According to this theory, when God
keeps the fire from burning Shadrach, He does not have to act against the
fire's natural inclination or tendency to consume Shadrach. Instead, He
can merely ensure that the fire lacks this tendency, yet without destroying
it or changing it into another kind of thing.
Interestingly, there is some debate about whether al-Ghazali himself
is an occasionalist, i.e., whether he accepts (OCC). As a matter of fact,
in problem 17 of The Incoherence of the Philosophers he sets forth
two
distinct theories. His clear intent, it seems to me, is to find a religiously
acceptable alternative to essentialism, since he is convinced that essentialism
rules out certain of the miracles recorded by the sacred writers.38
He finds two such alternatives. The first consists of (OCC) and the anti-essentialist
thesis; the second includes the anti-essentialist thesis along with the
dual claim that (i) every material substance has active and passive
causal powers and that (ii) every material substance exercises active
and passive causal powers. So it is only the first of Ghazali's theories
that counts as a version of occasionalism, and the argument against calling
him an occasionalist must ultimately be based /97/ on the fact that he
seems to retreat from the first to the second theory in the face of objections.
Now whatever position al-Ghazali himself may finally have settled upon,
the no-essence theory, as I have formulated it, is a hybrid constructed
from the two theories he actually propounded. While the no-essence theory
is once again not especially plausible, its very conceivability shows that
one can accommodate the anti-essentialist motivations for occasionalism
without thereby giving up the claim that created substances have causal
powers. As such, the no-essence theory provides a possible refuge from
the 'prevention or preemption' objection that will be directed at the no-action
theory in section 5.
Finally, the third brand of occasionalism is what I dub the no-nature
theory, and although Malebranche fudges a bit on whether material substances
have passive causal powers, he and Berkeley are the champions here, with
Biel playing the role of an extremely sympathetic fellow-traveller. In
short, this theory consists of (i) (OCC), (ii) the anti-essentialist thesis,
and (iii) the claim that no material substance has any active or passive
causal power at all.39 The motivation for this theory
is not any abstract metaphysical qualm about how one and the same effect
might be immediately produced by both God and a creature; nor is it any
relatively narrow worry about essentialism's ruling out a certain fairly
small class of miracles. It is, instead, the sweeping and startling conviction
that the attribution of any power at all (especially any active
power)
to any corporeal substance is not only unnecessary but blasphemous,
not only philosophically confused but downright idolatrous. Malebranche
puts the point as follows:
If we consider attentively our idea of cause or of power
to act, we cannot doubt that this idea represents something divine ...
We therefore admit something divine in all the bodies around us when we
posit forms, faculties, qualities, virtues, or real beings capable of producing
certain effects through the force of their nature; and thus we insensibly
adopt the opinion of the pagans because of our respect for their philosophy.
It is true that faith corrects; but perhaps it can be said in this connection
that if the heart is Christian, the mind is basically pagan.40
/98/
To render God all the respect due Him, it is not enough
to adore Him as the sovereign power and to fear Him more than His creatures;
we must also fear and adore Him in all His creatures. All our reverence
must be directed toward Him, for honor and glory are due only Him ... Thus,
the philosophy that teaches us that the efficacy of secondary causes is
a fiction of the mind, that Aristotle's, and certain other philosophers',
nature
is a chimera, that only God is strong and powerful enough not only
to act in our soul but also to give the least motion to matter, this philosophy,
I say, agrees perfectly with religion, the end of which is to join us to
God in the closest way.
We ordinarily love only things capable of doing us some
good: this philosophy therefore authorizes only the love of God, and absolutely
condemns the love of eveything else. We should fear only what can do us
some evil: this philosophy therefore sanctions only the fear of God and
absolutely condemns all others.41
And in the concluding sections of the Principles, Berkeley continues
the attack on Aristotelian natures:
If by nature is meant some being distinct from God, as
well as from the laws of nature and things perceived by sense, I must confess
that word is to me an empty sound, without any intelligible meaning annexed
to it. Nature in this acceptation is a vain chimera introduced by
those heathens, who had no just notions of the omnipresence and infinite
perfection of God. But it is more unaccountable, that it should be received
among Christians professing belief in the Holy Scriptures, which
constantly ascribe those effects to the immediate hand of God, that heathen
philosophers are wont to impute to nature ... Fain would we suppose
Him at a great distance off, and substitute some blind unthinking deputy
in his stead, though (if we may believe Saint Paul) He be not far from
every one of us.42
Such memorable passages confirm Charles McCracken's perceptive observation:
The chief goal of the philosophical labours of both Malebranche and Berkeley
was the same: to recall Christian philosophy to a recognition of the total
and immediate dependence of all things on God. To both, belief in nature,
if by that term be meant a realm of entities that produce effects by their
own power, is the hallmark of the pagan, and the antithesis of the Christian,
view of the world.43
As our discussion of the no-essence theory revealed, the Aristotelian
/99/ account of substance or individual nature has two distinguishable
elements: (i) the bare attribution of causal powers to material substances
and (ii) the further thesis that each material substance has its basic
causal powers essentially. The no-essence theory rejects one half of this
conception of nature, its essentialism. But for a no-nature theorist the
mere rejection of essentialism is not an adequate response to the danger
posed by "heathen" naturalism, a naturalism that in effect attempts to
replace the action of a provident God with that of natures conceived of
as intrinsic causal principles. One must instead eradicate every
vestige
of the natures championed by Aristotle and the other pagan philosophers,
and this entails nothing less than the complete repudiation of causal power
for corporeal substances. What we have here, then, is the most extreme
form of occasionalism and, as I will now argue, the only form of occasionalism
worth defending.
5. The Aristotelian objections
The medieval Aristotelians exhibit little patience with those who espouse
occasionalism or theories closely resembling it. (Occasionalism is often
treated along with theories that limit the active causal contribution of
material substances to the production of merely accidental, as opposed
to substantial, changes.)44 In one place St. Thomas goes
so far as to call occasionalism stupid, a breach of decorum for which he
is roundly applauded by Molina: "Everyone rejects this position, and St.
Thomas justifiably calls it stupid. For what could be more stupid than
to deny what is obvious from experience and sense perception? But it is
evident to the senses that secondary causes elicit and exercise their own
operations."45
Yet, for all their bravado, the Aristotelians were only partly successful
in constructing a reasoned case against occasionalism. Many of their philosophical
and theological objections, whatever their 'objective' merits, seem in
retrospect to be at least dialectically ineffective, especially to those
of us who have had the opportunity to read Malebranche and Berkeley.
Take, for instance, the battery of objections that appeal to sensory
evidence. Molina points out that such propositions as The sun giveslight
/100/ and Fire gives heat, which, he claims, our sensory experience
shows to be evidently true, would be false if material substances were
not active causes of anything.46 We might add other,
perhaps more complex, examples such as The wind is blowing the leaves
around or The acid is making the litmus paper turn red or The
oak tree is sprouting leaves, but the point is basically the same:
If material substances are not active causes, then much of what we ordinarily
say in making perceptual reports is literally false.
Along similar but not entirely identical lines, St. Thomas argues that,
given the truth of occasionalism, evidently true propositions about sensings
themselves, e.g., I sense the heat of this fire, would be false.
For even if in the presence of fire God produces in me a sensation of heat,
He cannot, according to occasionalists, bring it about that it is the
fire's heat (read: the heat produced by this fire) that I sense.47
In yet another vein, St. Thomas argues that if occasionalism were true,
then the diversity of effects in nature would not result from a diversity
of causes. Rather, the (real) cause in every instance would be the same,
viz., God Himself, though the effects would be diverse. But, St. Thomas
retorts, "this appears false to the senses. For it is only heating, and
not cooling, that results from putting something near a hot object; nor
does the generation of anything but a human being result from the semen
of a human being."48
So in at least three different ways occasionalism runs afoul of common
opinions that emanate from and are grounded in ordinary sense experience.
But, contends Molina, "what experience attests to should not be denied
in the absence of a compelling reason; but not only is there no compelling
reason,
there is not even a plausible reason that might recommend the claim
that created things do not truly exercise the actions which experience
teaches originate from these same causes."49
The first-stage occasionalist response to such arguments is to claim
that while we perceive the various and diverse effects that occur in nature,
we do not perceive that these effects derive from or are brought
about by created causes. At most what is obvious is that these effects
are produced in the presence of such-and-such corporeal substances.
Yet, /101/ as we saw in our discussion of occasional causation, this sort
of presence is in itself a strong enough relation to ground the counterfactual
dependencies that Aquinas' diversity argument points to. We need make no
appeal to the alleged action of material substances.
Furthermore, it is unlikely that any amount of psychological evidence
will be sufficient to settle the question of whether, as common usage suggests,
we actually perceive the wind blowing the leaves or the fire heating
the
kettle of water.50 But, the occasionalists urge, even
if it should turn out that almost all our perceptual reports are indeed
literally false, we must acknowledge that our linguistic practices have
a myriad of different functions, the overwhelming majority of which do
not require the literal truth of our perceptual statements. Of all the
occasionalists, it is Berkeley who emphasizes this point most forcefully:
"The communicating of ideas marked by words is not the chief and only end
of language, as is commonly supposed. There are other ends, as the raising
of some passion, the exciting to, or deterring from an action, the putting
the mind in some particular disposition; to which the former is in many
cases barely subservient, and sometimes entirely omitted, when these can
be obtained without it, as I think does not infrequently happen in the
familiar use of language."51
In fact, to insist on literal truth outside of strict scientific or
philosophical contexts will often impede ordinary communication. In replying
to the objection that a philosopher who denied that fire heats or that
water cools would be deservedly laughed at, Berkeley concedes the point
in these celebrated lines: "I answer, he would so; in such things we ought
to think with the learned, and speak with the vulgar. They who to
demonstration are convinced of the truth of the Copernican system,
do nevertheless say the sun rises, the sun sets, or comes to the meridian:
and if they affected a contrary style in common talk, it would without
doubt appear ridiculous. A little reflection on what is here said will
make it manifest, that the common use of language would receive no manner
of alteration or disturbance from the admission of our tenets."52
As an outspoken rationalist, Malebranche is considerably less reluctant
than Berkeley to scorn common opinion and practice. He openly /102/ acknowledges
(and laments) that, largely as an effect of original sin, naturalism has
become deeply embedded in ordinary thought and language: "We are led by
an almost natural prejudice not to think of God with respect to natural
effects, and to attribute power and efficacy to natural causes; ordinarily
only miracles make us think of God, and sensible impression initiates our
view of secondary causes. Philosophers hold this view because, they say,
their senses convince them of it; this is their strongest argument. In
the end this view is held by all those who follow the judgment of their
senses. Now, language is formed on this prejudice, and we say as commonly
that fire has the power to burn as we call gold and silver our good."53
Occasionalists, then, are not without systematic resources when countering
Aristotelian objections that appeal to the evidence of the senses. For
even if those who deny that fire heats and water cools are indeed epistemically
flawed in some objective sense, they are nonetheless able to articulate
a prima facie coherent metaphysical framework from within which arguments
of the sort in question will fail to appear compelling.
Even less convincing is the Aristotelian argument charging that occasionalism
engenders a sort of causal anarchism. Occasionalism would of course be
wholly implausible if it entailed that in any given circumstances C,
no one causal transformation is more likely or less likely to occur in
C
than any other. In that case, to cite al-Ghazali's unforgettable example,
you might have good reason to wonder whether the man standing before you
now was one of the fruits sold at the market a few hours ago. But in fact
occasionalism entails only that such bizarre causal transformations are
metaphysically possible, not that they are likely or probable:
If you could prove that in regard to things which 'can
exist' there cannot be created for man a knowledge that they 'do not exist,'
then these absurdities would be inescapable ... God has created for us
the knowledge that He would not do these things, although they are possible.
We never asserted that they are necessary. They are only possible--i.e.,
they may, or may not, happen. It is only when something possible is repeated
over and over again (so as to form the Norm), that its pursuance of a uniform
course in accordance with the Norm in the past is indelibly impressed upon
our minds.54 /103/
Indeed, it is just God's steadfast adherence to certain arbitrarily chosen
"Norms" that serves as the occasionalist surrogate for Aristotelian natures.
That is to say, constant divine intentions provide the stability and regularity
in the universe that Aristotelians attribute to the natures of corporeal
substances. So instead of invoking causal dispositions, tendencies and
inclinations rooted in the natures of corporeal substances, the occasionalist
appeals to God's abiding intention to act in certain fixed ways. Where
the Aristotelian will claim that, say, fire has an active causal disposition
to heat bodies brought near it, the occasionalist will claim instead that
in bringing about natural effects God resolutely follows the (defeasible)
rule according to which He heats bodies brought near fire. And where the
Aristotelian appeals to the regularity guaranteed by the natures of corporeal
substances in order to justify the scientific practice of making inductive
inferences about what would occur in counterfactual situations, the occasionalist
instead grounds these same inductive practices in the firmness of God's
causal intentions. (Notice in passing that this gives occasionalists a
great theoretical advantage over their positivist cousins, who generate
"the problem of induction" by their agnosticism about the existence and/or
nature of the 'real' causes of natural phenomena.) In short, every important
naturalist concept (nature, law, disposition, power, etc.) has an occasionalist
analogue. There need be no substantive disagreement between occasionalists
and Aristotelians about what will
or would occur under such-and-such
circumstances; there will be disagreement at most about what might possibly
occur. And even here theistic Aristotelians can claim no advantage.
They, too, must (or at least do) admit that God can prevent the (real)
fire from incinerating the (real) human flesh of Shadrach; they, too, must
concede that God has the power to transform (or better: transubstantiate)
a fruit into a man.55
Two types of theological argument used by the Aristotelians are also
ineffective. First, the Scriptural and Patristic testimony cited by the
Christian Aristotelians in favor of secondary causation in nature is scanty
and, more to the point, counterbalanced by other texts that /104/ seem
to support occasionalism.56 Nor does any Aristotelian
I know of make a serious effort to explain the meaning of the latter texts
or to argue on hermeneutical grounds that they should be given less weight
than texts that militate against occasionalism. Perhaps the Aristotelians
simply take it for granted that what is evident to the senses or deeply
entrenched in common opinion constitutes a nearly indefeasible constraint
on how Sacred Scripture and the Fathers are to be interpreted. At any rate,
the most imaginative and ingenious attempt to formulate a decisive argument
on this front comes not from an Aristotelian but from Malebranche, who
makes an admirable attempt to transform the counterintuitive character
of the texts supporting occasionalism into a reliable sign of its truth.57
Second, both Aquinas and Molina argue that God's almightiness is honored
more by the view that natural substances possess and exercise their own
causal powers than by occasionalism. Thus Molina: "One extols God's power
more by claiming that He can effect the operations of all things
both
by Himself and through the powers He confers on secondary causes
than by claiming that He alone can effect them.58
Aquinas
makes the same point negatively: it detracts from God's power and perfection
to deny that He communicates (or is even able to communicate) to creatures
the perfection of exercising their own causal power.59
But this objection is clearly inconclusive. Occasionalism, after all,
assigns to God a much more intensive, if not extensive, causal role in
nature than does the concurrentist view held by the Aristotelians. For
according to concurrentism, God's active causal contribution to ordinary
natural effects is 'general' and thus is not by itself sufficient to determine
the specific nature of those effects; this is instead a function of the
'particular' secondary causes involved.60 So occasionalists,
too, can lay claim to a legitimate sense in which their position celebrates
God's power to a higher degree than does that of their opponents.
In summary, then, many of the standard Aristotelian objections seem
/105/ impotent against a philosophically sophisticated occasionalist. Indeed,
it may appear at this point that the most an Aristotelian can hope for
against any version of occasionalism is a mere standoff. It may appear
that there just are no potent objections whose premises have any purchase
on convinced occasionalists. This appearance, however, is misleading.
Let's look at the situation a little more closely. The occasionalist
must hold either (i) that corporeal substances have no causal powers at
all or (ii) that, having such powers, they never in fact contribute causally
to any effects. That is, an occasionalist must espouse either the no-nature
theory or else a 'weaker' no-action or no-essence theory. Let's begin by
exploring this second option. How might an Aristotelian respond to it?
Consider the following chain of reasoning, which I will dub the prevention
or preemption objection:
Suppose for the sake of argument that the no-action theory is true.
Now imagine that an ordinary piece of wood falls into a raging fire at
a particular time T and that it is completely consumed shortly thereafter.
Assume that no creature is a free cause of this effect. (As we saw in section
3, occasionalists seem forced to grant this assumption in any case.) God,
then, is the sole active cause of the wood's being consumed. Nonetheless,
both the fire and the wood have active and passive causal powers, and these
by nature. Now assume that the fire's active causal powers are by and large
what we usually take them to be. (If they are not, then alter the example
so that the effect is one that the fire has the active power to
produce.) In that case the fire has at T a natural inclination to
consume any piece of ordinary wood thrown into it. Of course, since the
no-action theory is true, we know that this inclination is never realized.
But why not? There are just two possible answers. The first is that God
acts on the fire in such a way as to prevent it from exercising its power
to consume the wood; the second is that, without doing anything to the
fire, God preempts its action by causing the wood to be consumed before
the fire can act on it. In either case, in order to be a strong active
cause of the wood's being consumed, God has to ensure that the fire will
not exercise its proper causal power.
To put it more generally, the no-action theory entails that in order
to produce all natural effects by Himself, God must continually prevent
or preempt the causal activity of created material substances. He must,
as it were, constantly ward off his own creatures and the powers He has
given them in order to play His rightful causal role in the ordinary course
of nature--an awkward consequence, to be sure, and, embarrassingly, /106/
one that flouts the occasionalist's own deepest convictions. For, as we
saw in our discussion of the fiery furnace, occasionalists deem it blasphemous
even to suggest that God must struggle with his creatures or in any way
oppose them from without in order to govern them and exercise control over
them. Yet the no-action theory carries with it just this suggestion that
creator and creature tend toward working at crosspurposes.
At this juncture the occasionalist might fleetingly contemplate a retreat
to the no-essence theory. For if the root problem with the no-action theory
is that it attributes to corporeal substances certain essential causal
powers, tendencies and dispositions that God must actively oppose 'from
without', then perhaps this problem can be solved simply by denying that
such causal properties are essential to the substances in question.
We can see this more clearly as follows:
To prevent or preempt the action of a corporeal substance is to oppose
it or frustrate it in some way; otherwise its natural tendencies will be
actualized. But if no powers or tendencies are had essentially by any corporeal
substance, then God does not have to act against His creatures 'from without';
He can instead simply regulate their causal tendencies 'from within' to
suit His purposes. For example, if He brings it about that the fire simply
lacks a causal tendency to consume pieces of wood thrown into it, then
He need not prevent or preempt the fire's action. Accordingly, He can be
a strong active cause of the wood's being consumed in the presence of the
fire without at the same time having to act against or thwart the fire.
So, in general, if the no-essence theory is true, then God is able to arrange
things in such a way that He never has to frustrate in any way the causal
tendencies of any corporeal substance. And there will be just the sort
of harmony between creator and creature that one would antecedently expect.
Perhaps this line of reasoning provides the no-essence theorist with
an escape from the 'prevention or preemption' objection. (I am not certain
that it does, but will not linger over the point here.) Nevertheless, two
further arguments are no less damaging to the no-essence theory than to
the no-action theory. In fact, the sheer obviousness and power of these
arguments may explain why the 'prevention or preemption' objection, despite
its considerable strength, does not appear in the Aristotelian sources
I have cited.
First of all, the no-essence theory, like the no-action theory before
it, entails that each corporeal substance has causal powers and tendencies,
and yet that no such causal power or tendency is ever actualized. But this
/107/ consequence is objectionable in itself, regardless of whether God
has to oppose or resist His creatures from without. For what possible reason
could a perfectly wise and provident God have for endowing creatures with
causal powers, none of which they will ever have the opportunity
to exercise? Such powers, hidden from view, would be wholly superfluous,
utterly lacking in point, serving no conceivable purpose in the divine
providential scheme. St. Thomas expresses this point in two slightly different
ways:
Reason shows that there is nothing in natural things
which does not serve some purpose. But if natural things did not do anything,
then the forms and causal powers they are endowed with would have no purpose--just
as, if a knife did not cut anything, then it would have its sharpness to
no avail.61
It is contrary to the notion of wisdom that there should
be anything without a purpose in the works of one who is wise. But if created
things in no way acted to produce effects, but instead God alone did everything
directly, then these other things would be employed by Him to no purpose
in the production of effects. Therefore, the position in question is incompatible
with the divine wisdom.62
This objection seems to be very powerful, especially--but not only--if
we make the fairly modest assumption that God could have created a world
that appears very much like ours without endowing any corporeal creature
with active causal powers. After all, if He could have done so, why would
He choose instead to create a counterpart universe containing wholly unactualized
causal powers? It would be as if He had created many tools (recall the
knife) which He then proceeded to ignore in bringing about by Himself alone
the very effects that the tools were intended to be instrumental in producing.
One need not subscribe to a strong principle of sufficient reason in order
to appreciate the point of this argument.
The second objection is a rather subtle one that has both strategic
and tactical significance. If corporeal substances cause nothing, then
we can have no scientific knowledge. For the chief aim of natural science
is to lay bare the natures of the material substances that are the real
causes of spatiotemporal effects, and the method of science is to /108/
reason from effects to powers and from powers to natures. So if corporeal
substances do not act, then scientific reasoning will not help us come
to a knowledge of the natures of material things. In short, if occasionalism
in any of its forms is true, then natural science is impossible. Thus St.
Thomas:
If effects are not produced by the action of created
things, but only by the action of God, it is impossible for the power of
any created cause to be manifested through its effects. For an effect does
not manifest the power of the cause except by virtue of the action which,
proceeding from the power, terminates in the effect. But the nature of
a cause is not known through the effect except insofar as its power, which
flows from the nature, is known through the effect. Therefore, if created
things did not act to produce effects, it would follow that no nature of
any created thing could ever be known through an effect. And we would be
deprived of all the knowledge of natural science, since in natural science
demonstrations are derived mainly from the effect.63
This argument is strategically important because it demonstrates how the
debate between Aristotelians and occasionalists is readily transformed
into a debate over the character and aims of natural science. I will come
back to this in section 6. But here the argument can be used tactically
to show that those who accept (OCC) can have no justification for embracing
either the no-action theory or the no-essence theory. For if corporeal
substances never produce any effects, then, barring divine revelation,
none of us will ever know just which powers any given corporeal substance
has.64 Worse yet, scientific reasoning will not even
help us establish the general claim that corporeal substances have causal
power. So those who believe that material substances never act will, given
their own theory, have no justification for attributing to those substances
any active causal power at all. Even from within the occasionalist perspective,
then, both the no-action theory and the no-essence theory suffer from grave
deficiencies. The Aristotelian arguments seem to have rendered a move toward
the no-nature theory not only appropriate but mandatory.
But at this point in our dialogue there is likely to be a breakdown
in communications--one that helps explain why the most impressive of /109/
the Aristotelian objections to occasionalism seem question-begging when
directed at the no-nature theory. The problem, simply stated, is that the
no-nature theory would never occur to a medieval Aristotelian as a coherent
possibility worthy of being refuted. To Aquinas, Molina, Suarez or any
other robust Aristotelian, denying active causal power to an entity amounts
to nothing less than denying that entity the status of being a substance.
As St. Thomas says in the opening chapter of De Ente et Essentia
(and here he is simply echoing the Aristotle of Physics II), things
that exist in the most privileged sense, i.e., the primary beings or substances,
are just those things that have natures.65 And from these
natures, in turn, flow the intrinsic causal powers, tendencies and dispositions
that are definitive of the various natural kinds and that are thus possessed
by the individual instances of those natural kinds. So it is metaphysically
necessary that, say, tomato plants tend to produce tomatoes and that fire
tends to incinerate human flesh brought into close proximity to it. What's
more, it is just these natures and natural kinds, revealed to some extent
and in an imprecise way through ordinary sense experience, that are the
objects of systematic scientific inquiry. What, after all, could be more
obvious than the contention that in order to have scientific knowledge
about a tomato plant, one must acquire a systematic understanding of its
causal tendencies and dispositions--more specifically, its principles of
generation, development and degeneration, the conditions under which it
flourishes and the conditions under which its development is impeded, etc.?
Unlike the medievals, we now know that such inquiry will steer us in directions
hitherto undreamt of--toward postulational biochemistry and evolutionary
biology, for instance. But the fundamental guiding idea is the same: the
scientific enterprise is aimed at discovering the natures of material substances
and providing genuine causal explanations of spatio-temporal phenomena
in terms of those natures. To repudiate such natures and the causal powers
that flow from them is tantamount to denying that there are any material
entities at all and a fortiori to denying that scientific knowledge is
possible. To the medieval Aristotelians (and perhaps to others among us
as well) such denials seem utterly preposterous. And so they are, as long
we take it for granted that corporeal entities must be substances, i.e.,
beings with natures.
And thus of course we come to Berkeley, whose antinaturalism /110/ knows
no bounds. Since corporeal things have no active or passive causal powers,
there just are no material substances of the sort that Aristotelian (or,
for that matter, Lockean) naturalists have conceived there to be.66
Only spirits have natures that serve as intrinsic sources of causal power,
and hence only spirits are primary beings or substances. There are, to
be sure, bodies--those very bodies whose sensible characteristics we continually
perceive. But if a mark of substance is the possession of causal power,
then there simply are no material or corporeal substances.67
Notice, by the way, that Berkeley and the theistic Aristotelians do
not disagree about whether corporeal things can exist without being cognized
or 'perceived'. The Aristotelians, after all, do not claim that the ontological
independence (or per se existence) of a corporeal substance consists in
its ability to exist without being known by any mind. For, according to
their theological beliefs, there can be no substance that is not known
by the divine intellect. Rather, the disagreement is precisely about whether
corporeal things have natures, i.e., about whether they are substances
or first beings endowed with causal power.
But perhaps we have moved too quickly here. Perhaps we have overlooked
a possible alternative. Berkeley's position is what I shall call the full-fledged
no-nature theory. On this view corporeal things in no way delimit
or determine the effects they are involved in. They have neither active
nor passive causal power and hence are not independent beings or substances.
Instead, they are "ideas", i.e., mere modes or modifications of spiritual
substances. But might an occasionalist not hold, as Malebranche seems to,
that even though material substances lack all active causal powers,
they nonetheless have passive causal powers? In this way the occasionalist
would be able to affirm both (OCC) and the metaphysical independence of
corporeal things. I shall call this the modified no-nature theory.
Such a theory would in effect be putting asunder what Aristotle had
joined together, viz., structured or formed matter on the one hand and
/111/ active causal power on the other. God would supply all the active
causal power in nature, while material substances would receive and channel
God's causal influence as patients. To be sure, these substances would
be wholly inert, but they would at least be "thicker" than on the Berkeleyan
view.
Notice, by the way, that the same arguments that led us from the no-action
theory to the no-essence theory will dictate that the passive powers in
question be non-essential. al-Ghazali, for instance, insists that God could
bring it about that of two exactly similar pieces of cotton exposed to
equally intense heat in exactly similar circumstances, one is consumed
by the heat and the other is not. But if the second piece's susceptibility
to being consumed in those circumstances were essential to it, then God
would have to thwart that susceptibility in order to keep the cotton from
being consumed.68 So the friend of the modified no-nature
theory should presumably hold that any passive causal powers a corporeal
thing has are not essential to it.
How plausible is the modified no-nature theory from within the occasionalist
perspective? My suspicion is that the very notion of a substance endowed
with passive but not active causal powers is incoherent. At the very least,
as I noted above, the fundamental passive powers associated with material
substances
in particular (e.g., impenetrability) seem clearly to render the things
that have them apt to be used (at least by God) as instrumental efficient
causes. But if this is so, then no occasionalist can consistently accept
the modified no-nature theory. Since this theory seems to have been Malebranche's,
it follows that the arguments presented here support Berkeley against Malebranche,
and the full-fledged no-nature theory against the modified no-nature theory.
Any tenacious and epistemically conscientious friend of occasionalism
will, I believe, be ultimately led by the Aristotelian objections to embrace
the no-nature theory--and the full-fledged version at that. This is what
I set out to prove, and I believe that my cumulative argument is a strong
one. Yet since the Aristotelian objections examined so far do not appear
to undermine the no-nature theory itself, the next step is to evaluate
the no-nature theory on philosophical and theological grounds. I cannot
do this in any depth here, but in the concluding section I will briefly
indicate what I take the strengths and weaknesses of the no-nature theory
to be. /112/
6. Prospects for the no-nature theory
One of the no-nature theory's chief strengths is, I believe, its ability
to provide a very clear and intellectually satisfying account of how the
natural sciences are to be integrated into a theistic vision of the universe.
Theistic metaphysics seems bound to resist the quintessentially modern
dogma that the natural sciences are autonomous in the sense that (i) no
alleged source of revelation (e.g., Scripture or Tradition) can rightfully
serve in any way to correct or modify their claims, and that (ii) they
in no way point beyond themselves to a more ultimate sort of explanation
(whether in terms of efficient or final causes) for natural effects. The
no-nature theory has the resources to curb these pretensions in a much
more direct and simple (some would say simplistic) way than any 'theistic
naturalism' can.
Both Berkeley and Malebranche understand (OCC) to be a mortal enemy
of the brand of scientific realism that engenders these claims to autonomy.
This may not be apparent at first, since Malebranche clearly accepts the
existence of unobservable entities with reference to which the fundamental
laws of motion are to be formulated--and this makes him a scientific realist
in at least one standard sense. However, we must distinguish here between
between what I shall call entity realism and what might appropriately
be termed explanatory realism. For while Malebranche accepts on
scientific grounds the existence of unobservable theoretical entities,
the postulation of these entities does not on his view enable us to grasp
the causal powers or natures of material substances or to provide genuine
causal
explanations of observable effects--as opposed to "explanations" in terms
of occasional or what he sometimes calls natural causes.
Malebranche and Berkeley are both explanatory anti-realists. That is, they
hold that the purpose of natural science is not to discover the real causes
of natural phenomena or the natures of those causes, but to discover and
systematize regularities and correlations among the Real Cause's observable
effects in nature, and on this basis to make accurate predictions. First
Malebranche and then Berkeley:
The study of nature is false and vain in every way when
true causes are sought in it other than the volitions of the Almighty,
or the general laws according to which He constantly acts.69
/113/
If therefore we consider the difference there is betwixt
natural philosophers and other men, with regard to their knowledge of the
phenomena, we shall find it consists, not in an exacter knowledge of the
efficient cause that produces them, for that can be no other than the will
of a spirit, but only in a greater largeness of comprehension, whereby
analogies, harmonies, and agreements are discovered in the works of nature,
and the particular effects explained, that is, reduced to general rules,
which rules grounded on the analogy, and uniformness observed in the production
of natural effects, are most agreeable, and sought after by the mind.70
So the aim of the natural sciences is merely to give us theories that are,
to use Bas Van Fraassen's apt expression, empirically adequate. Their aim
is emphatically not to find the real (as opposed to natural or occasional)
causes of natural phenomena or to provide a true picture of the causal
mechanisms at work in the created universe. Indeed, according to the no-nature
theory, there are no such causal mechanisms waiting to be discovered--though
this is not to deny that there are extremely complicated "analogies, harmonies
and agreements" that might suggest such mechanisms to the "pagan mind".
When we reach the inevitable and perfectly legitimate questions about real
causes, natural science exhibits its inherent explanatory limitations
and points toward metaphysics and theology, to which it is subordinated
in the hierarchy of disciplines. (This is one major point at which occasionalism
breaks with Humean empiricism.) In Malebranche's words:
I grant that recourse to God or the universal cause should
not be had when the explanation of particular effects is sought ... In
a word, we must give, if we can, the natural and particular cause of the
effects in question. But since the action of these causes consists only
in the motor force activating them, and since this motor force is but the
will of God, they must not be said to have in themselves any force or power
to produce any effects. And when in our reasoning we have come at last
to a general effect whose cause is sought, we also philosophize badly if
we imagine any other cause of it than the general cause. We must not feign
a certain nature, a primum mobile, a universal soul,
or any such chimera of which we have no clear and distinct idea; this would
be to reason like a pagan philosopher. For example, when we ask how it
is that there are bodies in motion, or that agitated air communicates its
motion to water, or rather how it is that bodies push one another, then,
since motion and its communication is a general effect on which all /114/
others depend, it is necessary, I do not say in order to be a Christian
but to be a philosopher, to have recourse to God, who is the universal
cause, because His will is the motor force of bodies and also produces
the communication of their motion.71
The no-nature theory, then, deflates the pretensions of the natural sciences
to be autonomous and self-sufficient disciplines that can provide a complete
understanding of natural phenomena. If the no-nature theory is true, then
the study of nature must inevitably point beyond itself to a more inclusive
"wisdom" that investigates the Real Cause of natural phenomena--a wisdom
that willingly assigns a prominent place to the study of nature and yet
at the same time directs it from without. It is against this background
that we must understand the conclusions Berkeley draws from his discussion
of the natural sciences in the Principles:
After what has been premised, I think we may lay down
the following conclusions. First, it is plain philosophers amuse themselves
in vain, when they inquire for any natural efficient cause, distinct from
a mind or spirit. Secondly, considering the whole creation
is the workmanship of a wise and good agent, it should seem to become
philosophers, to employ their thoughts (contrary to what some hold) about
the final causes of things ... Thirdly, from what has been premised no
reason can be drawn, why the history of nature should not still be studied,
and observations and experiments made, which, that they are of use to mankind,
and enable us to draw any general conclusions, is not the result of any
immutable habitudes, or relations between things themselves, but only of
God's goodness and kindness to men in the administration of the world ...
Fourthly, by a diligent observation of the phenomena within our
view, we may discover the general laws of nature, and from them deduce
the other phenomena, I do not say demonstrate; for all deductions
of that kind depend on a supposition that the Author of Nature always operates
uniformly, and in a constant observance of those rules we take for principles:
which we cannot evidently know.72
This mix of theism with explanatory scientific anti-realism is very powerful
and in many ways very attractive, combining as it does a fitting modesty
(even humility) regarding the aims and claims of reason with an optimism
about the ability of reason guided by faith to attain wisdom. Thus are
avoided the prideful presumption of autonomy for reason on the one hand
and an equally destructive pessimism about /115/ reason's ability to attain
ultimate truth on the other--all of which is extremely desirable from a
theistic perspective. What's more, as anyone familiar with the current
philosophical scene will realize, no-nature theorists can ride piggyback,
as it were, on recent penetrating defenses of scientific anti-realism.73
This adds considerable philosophical weight to the already impressive theological
case for the no-nature theory.
Although I myself do not subscribe to the no-nature theory, I am forced
to admit that the sort of 'theistic naturalism' I favor has much to learn
from and emulate (if it can) in the way occasionalism deals with and situates
the natural sciences. The ever-present danger for attempts, like that of
the medieval scholastics, to incorporate naturalism into a theistic vision
of the world is just that, as Malebranche and Berkeley never tire of reminding
us, secondary causes tend to usurp rather than to complement the role of
the First Cause. In short, it is ever to be feared that the tail will end
up wagging the dog.
Yet while, from a theistic perspective, the no-nature theory provides
a much more impressive and satisfying philosophy of nature than most contemporary
theistic intellectuals have cared to admit, this theory is not without
apparent weaknesses, and these will have to be explored in detail before
we can make a final assessment. Three particular problem areas present
themselves.
The first is ontological. Just what is the ontology of corporeal things
on the no-nature theory? Is Berkeleyan idealism mandatory for the no-nature
theorist? If so, can it be made plausible? If it is not mandatory, what
are the alternatives? Can bodies have the sort of metaphysical independence
characteristic of substances without having any active causal power at
all? How so? Might they simply be "bundles" of independently existing sensible
qualities? And just what sort of ontology would that entail? (We might
also wonder in passing whether such a theory could give a plausible account
of the difference between living and non-living things, or of the difference
between finite spirits closely associated with bodies, e.g., human beings,
and finite spirits not so attached to bodies, e.g., angels.)74
The second problem comes from natural theology. The no-nature theory
seems to implicate God too deeply in the causation of physical /116/ evil.
Of course, every theistic metaphysics must address questions about why
God permits evil. But the no-nature theory has a special problem. Aristotelian
theists use individual natures as a causal buffer between God and evil.
For they claim that God is only a general cause of the effects of secondary
causes, and so they can argue with some plausibility that the defectiveness
of evil states of affairs (whether they be moral evils or physical evils)
is traceable solely to the causal contribution of the secondary or creaturely
causes. The no-nature theory, by contrast, does away with natures, and
holds that God is the sole active cause of every state of affairs in nature.
So if any such states of affairs are evil or defective, this defectiveness
can be traced only to God's causal contribution. But this seems to make
God the doer--and not just the permitter--of evil.
In response to this problem Berkeley develops two different lines of
argument. The first is to treat the laws of nature (i.e., the rules that
God follows) as surrogate buffers between God and evil. The argument is
that God's following these general rules is an intrinsic good that outweighs
whatever particular evils result from the process. But this clearly will
not do, since even when He is following rules, God is still the sole cause
of the resultant states of affairs. A more promising reply, though one
that stands in need of careful articulation and development, is simply
to deny that there is any such thing as natural or physical evil for corporeal
things:
Our prospects are too narrow: we take, for instance,
the idea of some one particular pain into our thoughts, and account it
evil; whereas if we enlarge our view, so as to comprehend the various ends,
connections, and dependencies of things, on what occasions and in what
proportions we are affected with pain and pleasure, the nature of human
freedom, and the design with which we are put into the world; we shall
be forced to acknowledge that those particular things, which considered
in themselves appear to be evil, have the nature of good, when considered
as linked with the whole system of beings.75
This argument may be stronger than it first appears. Since an Aristotelian
nature defines normal and/or paradigmatic existence for members of a given
natural kind, it follows that doing away with corporeal natures is tantamount
to doing away with the objective /117/ grounding for the notion of evil
(i.e., defectiveness with respect to the norm or paradigm) as applied to
bodies. So whereas on the Aristotelian view God merely permits, say, the
intrinsic evil of a tree's becoming diseased but does not Himself produce
the disease as a particular cause, on the no-nature theory the tree's being
diseased is no more an intrinsic evil and no less an intrinsic good than
its being healthy. So God can in good conscience, as it were, directly
cause the tree to be diseased. In short, given the no-nature theory, there
is no independent standard that measures physical or natural good and evil.
(Whether this line of reasoning can convincingly be extended to human pain
is a moot question, of course.) In any case, the ultimate fate of the no-nature
theory depends in large measure on whether or not this argument can be
adequately elaborated and defended.
Finally, the acceptability of the no-nature theory must be assessed
in the light of revealed doctrines, and the results of this assessment
will vary according to denominational allegiance. The 'higher' the church,
or so it seems, the less acceptable the no-nature theory. For instance,
it is fairly clear (though not beyond debate) that no account of substance
consistent with the no-nature theory can provide a satisfactory metaphysics
for the Catholic doctrine of the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist.
The no-nature theory may also be incompatible with an orthodox understanding
of the doctrine that the sacraments are causes of grace. There are undoubtedly
other such examples lurking in the wings.
I hope to discuss all these issues at length in another place. For now
I will be satisfied to have shown that occasionalism in general and the
no-nature theory in particular are eminently worthy of serious study by
today's theistic philosophers. Many contemporary religious thinkers, unduly
beholden to Kant and his successors, evidently refuse to take doctrines
concerning divine causation as metaphysical truths and seem almost embarrassed
by the thought that God might be intimately involved in the production
of natural effects--it is as if Berkeley's worst nightmare had come true.
Indeed, some even make the astonishing and astonishingly naive claim that
the natural sciences have themselves established the impossibility of any
causal contribution to natural effects on the part of a transcendent agent.
(One cannot help but wonder where this sort of information about the deliverances
of modern science comes from.) In stark contrast, traditional philosophical
theologians almost unanimously regarded as too weak even the strong-sounding
/118/ (to modern ears) claim that God's causal contribution to natural
effects consists precisely in His creating and conserving material substances
and their causal powers. In this paper I have tried to show by example
how we can learn much from an examination of this tradition and its various
elements.76
NOTES
1. On the inevitability of such metaphysical questions
being raised about revealed doctrines and in defense (contrary to much
modern theology) of the legitimacy of raising them, the best popular piece
I know of is John Courtney Murray, S.J., The Problem of God (New
Haven: Yale University Press, 1964), pp. 31-76.
2. I will be citing the following editions of the works
of these four philosophers: (a) al-Ghazali: al-Ghazali's Tahafut al-falasifah:
The Incoherence of the Philosophers, trans. Sabih Ahmad Kamali (Lahore:
Pakistan Philosophical Conference, 1963), problem 17, "Refutation of Their
Belief in the Impossibility of a Departure from the Natural Course of Events,"
pp. 185-196; (b) Biel: Collectorium circa quattuor libros sententiarum
4, pt. 1, eds. Wilfridus Urbeck and Udo Hoffman (Tuebingen: J.C.B.
Mohr, 1975), q. 1, "Utrum sacramenta legis novae sint causae effectivae
gratiae," pp. 1-36, esp. 14-18 and 27-36; (c) Malebranche: Nicolas Malebranche:
The Search After Truth and Elucidations of the Search After Truth,
trans. Thomas M. Lennon and Paul J. Olscamp (Columbus: Ohio State University
Press, 1980), esp. The Search After Truth, b. 6, p. 2, chaps. 2
and 3, pp. 440-452, and Elucidations, Elucidation 15, pp. 657-683.
(Note that page references for both The Search after Truth and the
Elucidations will be to this one volume.) (d) Berkeley: Three
Dialogues between Hylas and Philonous, ed. Robert M. Adams (Indianapolis:
Hackett Publishing Co, 1979), and A Treatise Concerning the Principles
of Human Knowledge, ed. Kenneth Winkler (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing
Co., 1982).
3. It cannot be emphasized enough that the position
being rejected here (viz., that God's action in the world is exhausted
by creation and conservation) is regarded as too weak by almost all medieval
Aristotelians as well as by the occasionalists. (Its main medieval spokesman
was William Durandus, an early 14th century Dominican bishop who, as far
as I know, is the only theologian whose name is explicitly associated with
this doctrine by 16th century writers.) In stressing the importance of
this historical point in another context, I injudiciously claimed that
the scholastics regarded the position in question "as in effect a form
of deism." Peter Van Inwagen has persuaded me that this use of the term
'deism' is not only historically and philosophically inaccurate but unfortunately
inflammatory. So I hereby recant. I would still insist, however, that the
near unanimity of the tradition on this point constrains any contemporary
theistic philosopher from simply assuming without argument that Durandus'
position is theologically orthodox.
4. Discussions of God's general or universal causation
can be found in St. Thomas Aquinas, Summa Contra Gentiles III, chaps.66-70
and De Potentia Dei, Q. 3, A. 7; Luis de Molina, Liberi Arbitrii
cum Gratiae Donis, Divina Praescientia, Providentia, Praedestinatione et
Reprobatione Concordia, [hereafter: Concordia], ed. Johann Rabeneck,
S.J. (Ona and Madrid: Soc. Edit. Sapientia, 1953), p. 2, "De concursu Dei
generali," Q.14, A.13, disp.25-35, pp. 159-222; and Francisco Suarez, Disputationes
metaphysicae, ed. C. Berton (Paris, 1866; reprinted in two volumes
at Hildesheim: Georg Olms Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1965), vol.1, disp. 22,
"De Prima Causa et alia eius actione, quae est cooperatio, seu concursus,
cum causis secundis," pp. 802-843. Since those works of Aquinas to be cited
here are generally known and widely available, I will follow the ordinary
custom of citing the relevant texts without alluding to any modern editions.
5. Malebranche, Elucidations, pp. 676-680.
6. The states of affairs in question typically involve
states of the substances that are acted upon. Whether all such states must
be thought of as involving accidents inhering in these substances is a
moot ontological question that would receive different answers from different
medieval scholastics.
7. An atypical case would be that of creation
ex
nihilo, wherein there is no patient acted upon.
8. Below I will have occasion to allude to the distinction
between general (universal) causes and particular causes. Roughly, a substance
is a general cause with respect to an effect E when its causal
influence has had to be channeled (or, better, specified) toward E by
some further cause. For instance, the sun is a general cause of this calf's
being born. For the heat of the sun is a causal factor in the generation
of the calf, but one that is channeled toward the production of a calf
(as opposed to, say, a duckling) by further causes (in this case, a cow
and bull). As can be seen, the same cause might be more general or less
general with respect to different effects.
9. Conservation must be taken as involving the conferral
of existence on the thing in question and on every proper part of it.
Only then, I believe, can one argue persuasively that conservation is God's
perogative.
10. Molina, Concordia, p. 160.
11. Suarez, Disputationes metaphysicae, disp.
18, "De causa proxima efficiente eiusque causalitate, et omnibus quae ad
causandum requirit," p. 597.
12. Malebranche, Elucidations, p. 669.
13. See Biel, Collectorium, pp. 15-18 and 31-34.
14. See my "The
Necessity of Nature," Midwest Studies in Philosophy 11 (1986),
pp. 215-242.
15. See sec. 2.9 of the introduction to Luis de Molina,
On
Divine Foreknowledge (Part IV of the Concordia), Translated, and Introduction
and Notes by Alfred J. Freddoso (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1988).
16. On this distinction, see al-Ghazali, Incoherence
of the Philosophers, pp. 185-187; Biel, Collectorium, pp. 15-18;
Malebranche, Search after Truth, pp. 448-450; and Berkeley, Principles,
pp. 51-53.
17. Molina, Concordia, pp. 159-160.
18. Biel, Collectorium, pp. 14-15.
19. For an account of the different types of efficient
causes, see Aquinas' Expositio in VIII Libros Physicorum Aristotelis,
b. 2, lec. 5 (194b16-195a27).
20. The notion of a 'direct' connection strong enough
to ground causal derivation needs further honing here. Suarez, for example,
has an objector propose the following sort of connection between fire and
heating: heat inheres in the fire and this is why, even though the fire
does not act, God heats (rather than cools) things in the presence of fire.
Obviously, any Aristotelian will find this connection still too 'indirect'
for true causal derivation. But the example suggests that articulating
necessary and sufficient conditions for such derivation might not be very
easy. See Suarez, Disputationes metaphysicae, disp. 18, p. 595.
21. Molina, Concordia, p. 161. For a reply,
see pp. 102-103 below.
22. Suppose that Katie persists in her original intention
and acts against my advice? In that case I am not a disposing cause of
her behavior--indeed, she acted as she did despite my threats. Still,
I am a perfecting cause of various psychological states in her, e.g., her
belief that I disapprove of the behavior in question.
23. I raise this second possibility, viz., that Stephen
is a principal cause who uses the fire, pot, etc, as his instruments, because
this is very much the image after which Aquinas models God's relationship
to secondary causes. Berkeley, by the way, has some sharp criticisms of
the idea that God might use instruments. See Three Dialogues, pp.
53-54.
24. This follows from the fact that according to occasionalism
God is a total particular cause of every effect in nature. The concurrentists,
by way of contrast, hold that there are two ways for God to contribute
causally to a natural effect: (a) by Himself as a particular cause,
in which case the nature of the effect is derived from God's causal contribution
alone;
or (b), more commonly, as a general cause (indeed, the most general
cause) cooperating with secondary causes, in which case the nature of the
effect is derived from the secondary causes.
25. Malebranche, Search after Truth, pp. 448-450
and Elucidations, pp. 669-671.
26. Berkeley, Philosophical Commentaries, entry
548, in The Works of George Berkeley Bishop of Cloyne, eds. A.A.
Luce and T.E. Jessop, vol.1 (Edinburgh: Thomas Nelson, 1948).
27. Berkeley, Three Dialogues, p. 70.
28. Malebranche, Search after Truth, b. 3, p.
2, chap. 8, pp. 243-247.
29. Thus Berkeley in the person of Philonous: "I only
ask whether the order and regularity observable in the series of our ideas,
or the course of nature, be not sufficiently accounted for by the wisdom
and power of God; and whether it does not derogate from those attributes,
to suppose He is influenced, directed, or put in mind, when and what He
is to act, by any unthinking substance" (Three Dialogues, p. 55).
See also al-Ghazali, Incoherence of the Philosophers, pp. 187-188.
30. For an explanation of the notion of a lowest-level
species or natural kind, see Michael J. Loux, "The Concept of a Kind,"
Philosophical
Studies 30 (1976), 53-61.
31. Suarez, Disputationes metaphysicae, disp.
18, p. 593.
32. As I pointed out in n. 3, the claim that God's
non-miraculous activity in nature is limited to creation and conservation
is almost universally found wanting in the theistic metaphysical tradition.
For a concise and engaging of just why this is so, see Molina, Concordia,
pp. 161-163. I hope to develop Molina's arguments in more detail elsewhere.
33. Strictly speaking, an anti-essentialist could deny
just one of (E1) and (E2) or even just their conjunction. However, to simplify
the argument, I will assume that both (E1) and (E2) are being denied. As
far as I can see, the differences involved have no bearing on my discussion
of occasionalism.
34. See R. Harre and E.H. Madden, Causal Powers
(Totowa, NJ: Rowman and Littlefield, 1975), pp. 44-49.
35. Specifically, the references are to chapter 3 of
the Book of Daniel and to Koran 21:69-70 and 37:98. The miracle of the
fiery furnance is not the only such miracle cited in this connection. Aquinas,
for instance, alludes to God's keeping the waters of the Jordan from flowing
downstream (Joshua 3:15-16), and the virginal conception of Christ. The
important factor is that the created substances involved in this sort of
miracle at least appear to have a natural inclination toward an effect
contrary
to the miraculous effect. Occasionalists will claim that this appearance
is mere appearance, while concurrentists will aver that God accomplishes
this sort of miracle by omission, i.e., by withholding His general
concurrence from the ordinary course of nature--even while contrary tendencies
remain in the created causes.
36. al-Ghazali, Incoherence of the Philosophers,
p. 185.
37. Ibid., p. 188.
38. The theistic Aristotelians will, of course, demur,
insisting instead that one of the prerequistes for the action of a created
cause is God's general causal influence. If God withholds this concurrence,
there will (miraculously) be no action, even though the substances themselves
retain their natures and their essential causal powers. Occasionalists
respond by asking for a detailed metaphysical account of God's general
concurrence. See my "The Necessity of Nature," 234-236.
39. This is what I will later call the full-fledged
no-nature theory. What I will dub the modified no-nature theory allows
creatures to have passive causal powers.
40. Malebranche, Search After Truth, p. 446.
41. Malebranche, Elucidations, p. 681.
42. Berkeley, Principles, p. 89.
43. Charles J. McCracken, Malebranche and British
Philosophy (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1983), p. 211.
44. See, e.g., Aquinas, Summa Contra Gentiles
III, chap. 69.
45. Molina, Concordia, p. 160.
46. Ibid., p. 161.
47. Aquinas, De Potentia Dei, Q. 3, A. 7, resp.
48. Aquinas, Summa Contra Gentiles III, chap.
69.
49. Molina, Concordia, p. 161.
50. See Harre and Madden, Causal Powers, pp.
49-67 for an interesting discussion of the perception of causation.
51. Berkeley, Principles, p. 19.
52. Ibid., pp. 44-45.
53. Malebranche, Elucidations, pp. 673-674.
54. al-Ghazali, Incoherence of the Philosophers,
p. 189.
55. The theistic Aristotelians differ from the occasionalists
in claiming that the admittedly possible bizarre transformations mentioned
here have a wholly different sort of causal progeny from normal causal
transformations and are accomplished by God despite natural tendencies
to the contrary on the part of creatures. The occasionalists rule out any
such tendencies in the creatures themselves and in effect "relocate" them
in the divine intellect and will.
56. The longest and most illuminating discussion of
this matter is found in Malebranche's Elucidations, pp. 672-685.
57. See Malebranche, Elucidations, pp. 672-685,
esp. 672. I hope to discuss this section of Elucidation 15 at some length
elsewhere.
58. Molina, Concordia, p. 161.
59. Aquinas, Summa Contra Gentiles III, chap.
69.
60. Remember that nature of the effect is derived from
its particular causes. See n. 8 above.
61. Aquinas, De Potentia Dei, Q. 3, A. 7, resp.
62. Aquinas, Summa Contra Gentiles III, chap.
69.
63. Ibid.
64. In fact, if the no-essence theory were true, we
would be in a better position to know which powers particular substances
lack,
viz., powers sufficient to bring about the effect that God has in fact
brought about. For recall that the no-essence theory is meant to rule prevention
and preemption.
65. Aquinas, De Ente et Essentia, chap. 1: "Nature
seems to mean the thing's essence as ordered to its proper activity, for
nothing is without its proper activity."
66. It is the lack of causal power that, in Berkeley's
metaphysics, is prior to and grounds the status, had by each corporeal
thing, of being an idea.
67. The connection between being and power was noticed
at least as early as Plato. Thus the Athenian stranger: "I suggest that
anything has real being that is so constituted as to possess any sort of
power either to affect anything else or to be affected, in however small
a degree, by the most insignificant agent, though it be only once. I am
proposing as a mark to distinguish real things that they are nothing but
power" (Sophist, 247d-e).
68. al-Ghazali, Incoherence of the Philosophers,
p. 190.
69. Malebranche, Elucidations, p. 662.
70. Berkeley, Principles, p. 68.
71. Malebranche, Elucidations, p. 662.
72. Berkeley, Principles, p. 69.
73. The best-known, and justly so, of these defenses
is Bas Van Fraassen's The Scientific Image (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1980).
74. The first of these questions is pressed by Suarez
in Disputationes metaphysicae, disp. 18, 595. Malebranche tries
to respond at Elucidations, pp. 661-662.
75. Berkeley, Principles, p. 91.
76. A very distant ancestor of this paper was delivered
in 1983 to a gathering of the Society for Medieval and Renaissance Philosophy,
while a version much more like the present one was given in April 1987
to the annual Notre Dame-Calvin College Philosophy Colloquium. I am especially
grateful to Calvin Normore and Philip Quinn for the penetrating questions
they posed on those occasions. |