Showing posts with label freedom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label freedom. Show all posts

Monday, May 09, 2022

Luther and Heidegger: Modeling the Destruction of Metaphysics

The International Luther Congress beckons this summer and I am thinking about doing something on Luther and Heidegger in the seminar on Luther and Philosophy. I am old enough now to remember Luther Congresses 35 years ago and more where this topic was not of deep interest. Having written a dissertation on Luther's theological semantics, I was from my first Luther Congress interested in these matters, and remember being introduced to the Finnish work in this area in Oslo in 1988. 


The following is the abstract for my paper on Luther and Heidegger this Sumer.  The seminar headed by Jennifer Hockenbery asks participants to relate Luther to the philosophical tradition through consideration of the notion of freedom. 

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Much has been written about Heidegger’s indebtedness to Luther (along with Paul and Augustine) in the development of central themes of Being and Time e.g., death, fallenness, guilt, sin, freedom, etc. Heidegger breaks here with Husserl and western philosophy’s dream to frame a consistent and coherent theory adequate and applicable to all the facts, both physical and metaphysical. In the early 1920s Heidegger was interested in the phenomenology of Christian life, what it was to-be-unto-the-Parousia. He discerned in Luther a friend in uncovering the meaning of factical Christian existence, that primordial self-understanding from, and through which, any talk of theological “facts” can emerge.  


But the parallels between Luther’s critique of late medieval Scholasticism and Heidegger’s critique of Catholic theology in his time -- both are interested in the destructionof the abstract metaphysical in favor of the phenomenology of concrete lived existence – can occlude what profoundly differentiates the two approaches: Luther’s “Christian being” cannot be conceived apart from an encounter with the Other, an encounter that cannot be interpreted either as Zuhandensein or Vorhandensein. One must not confuse the experientia of Luther’s theologian with the experience of the peasant or particle physicist. The phenomenological ontological approach “laying bare” the being-in-the-world of both occludes the “stand on being” assumed in the approach itself, an approach that itself finally must stand before God


In this paper, I review the research into Luther and Heidegger with an eye toward towards an appropriation of the start differences between them, particularly with respect to the question of freedom. What is constructive here is my employment of model theory to show the truth-conditions of the sentences used in the analysis. Clarity on the semantics of sets of sentences about Luther’s experientia, Heidegger’s phenomenological ontology of Christian life, and the enterprise of their comparison provides greater precision and accuracy in evaluating the differences in their respective projects. 

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I have for some time thought that theologians should know the basics of model theory so that they might gain greater clarity into their own theological and ontological assertions. I will endeavor to provide a brief introduction to model theory in this summer's paper, and use it to clarify the difference between Luther and the early Heidegger's project of disclosing the primordial factic life of the Christian prior to the making and evaluation of abstract theological assertions.  

Thursday, October 14, 2021

The New Viator

"I thought at that time that I was enjoying the conversation today with Darius, but I must admit now to uneasiness."  "Why is that?" asked Alisha.  Ashley responded quickly, "I thought Darius agreed with me, but maybe, in retrospect, he was making fun of me."  "I don't think Darius would do that," remonstrated Alisha; "You and Darius seem always to agree on the important issues."  So began innocently enough an important conversation between the two friends.  

Alisha wanted to know all about the fateful conversation Ashley had had with Darius.  She needed to know because there was something in Ashley's demeanor that suggested disorientation. "Ashley, please tell me what happened today when you talked to Darius. What did he say? Did he not respect you? Was he trying to make you think that his fringe thinking was not homophobic?"  

Ashley glanced at the birch tree standing at her right, "Well, it seemed innocent enough at first. I told Darius that I was on a journey of discovery." 

"A journey of discovery," repeated Alisha, "What do you mean by that?" 

Ashley was remembering it all vividly. "I was telling Darius that we today are somewhat like the people in the 15th century that found themselves on a journey either to the celestial city or to eternal damnation. Like them, we are viatores, pilgrims on the way, but our journey is not a death dealing journey out of life, but rather a momentous journey within life itself.  I am on this journey, a journey deeply momentous, a journey in which I hope to find myself, a journey after my authentic gender."  

Alisha knew of her friend's confessed gender fluidity. She understood that Ashley had early on in life understood herself as primary a little girl, but then on entering puberty had thought maybe the she was psychologically an adolescent male, and then in college had actually traveled back and forth between these poles, sometimes even identifying herself as somewhere in between. Alisha had always cared for Ashley, and had been steadfastly interested in her friend's voyage of self-discovery.  There was no reason, after all, why Ashley should have to pick one traditional gender in exclusion of the rest, as both her mother and father had.  Ashley needed to be who she really was, not some projection of an overwrought parent. 

But Ashley was visibly shaken. She wanted to tell Alisha the story of her conversation today with Darius.  Maybe, she thought, Alisha could help her, maybe she could cheer her up. Maybe, in fact, Alisha could make her forget the conversation she had had with Darius. Maybe if she explained to Alisha what had happened, she could be set free from the results of that fateful conversation. "Here is what happened today, Alisha." 

Darius was in the Wal-Mart parking lot looking at his friend's new Ford pickup, when Ashley arrived.  Seeing her, Darius said, "I love the fact that this one ton pick-up can develop so much torque."  

"I do as well, Darius. Although I prefer a Dodge Ram. My dad always loved his Dodge Charger hemi engine." 

"What brings you to the Wal-mart parking lot on this glorious day, Ashley," asked Darius. 

Because Ashley did not know exactly why she was in the parking lot, she replied, "I was thinking how fortunate I was to be in America in this third decade of the 21st century, Darius. It is wonderful to have the freedom to express oneself."  

"You speak rightly, Ashley, but about which freedoms are you most concerned about now?" 

"I enjoy the freedom to try on different gender roles. My life need not be like my mother and father's lives were, lives of quiet desperation where there was an enforced hegemony of gender roles. I don't have to be that which people once claimed I had to be, for I have freedom.  I find myself sometimes interested in living the traditional roles of an America male, but sometimes I just want to be female. I am free now to be no more (or no less) interested in plumbing than knitting. I can be male even if I have biological female parts, or vice-versa.  I can live in relationship with both men and women at the same time. I am liberated to experience the polyamorous life style that does not make me be what somebody else wants me to be!' 

"This is a wonderful thing, Ashley, but do you think that you are able to choose to be other than you are?" 

"I believe it," said Ashley, "for America protects the rights of those like me who do not find deep personal satisfaction either living forever as a male or forever as a female." 

"You speak with conviction," added Darius, "but are you able to do what you say?" 

"What do you mean by that," quipped Ashley to her interlocutor. 

"Are you able actually to choose a gender?" 

"Of course," Ashley quickly replied.

"But if you are choosing a gender, is there some definite gender you are choosing?" 

Ashley did not have to reflect on this for long.  "Of course," she said, "a gender is a definite thing." 

"But what is it for a gender to be a definite thing?  Is a gender a nature?" 

Ashley knew too much to be pulled into Darius' apparent trap.  Clearly, she did not want to suggest that there are Aristotelian natures.  "No, a gender is not a nature, for I choose it." 

Darius continued his interrogation: "Yes, I suppose you are correct. One cannot choose a nature because it is part of the nature of a nature not to be chosen. So what is the 'it' that you choose, Ashley, if it is not a nature?" 

"I choose a determinate set of dispositions to behave, dispositions that make me the one I am," replied Ashley smugly.  

"You choose your dispositions to behave, Ashley?  How does one do this?" Are your dispositions prior to, subsequent to, or are they identical with your gender?"  

"They are identical to it, Darius."  

"So you can choose your dispositions to behave, and these constitute your gender. Is this your position, Ashley." 

"It is so, Darius. Upon a little reflection, one can easily see that this is the case. My gender is constituted by how I will act given different stimulus-response conditionals." 

"But is it the case, Ashley, that you had a disposition to claim that your disposition to behave constitutes your gender identity?" 

"I don't think I understand you, Darius." 

"You claim that you can freely chose your dispositions to behave, and so is it the case that you freely chose to claim that you freely choose your dispositions to behave?" 

"No, Darius. I am free in my claim that to choose a gender identity is to chose dispositions to behave.  If my claim were simply the actualization of a disposition in a particular stimulus-response situation, then it would not be free. I am free, after all." 

"I thank you for your deeply reasoned response, Ashley.  You are indeed no easy foe with whom to dispute.  So I think your position is that you could have done other than claiming that your gender identity could be freely chosen, and your choosing of this involves the taking on of a disposition to behave. Is this right." 

"You speak with rectitude, Darius." 

"So you are saying that you could have done other than choosing the gender identity you choose, and that the a gender identity consists in certain dispositions to behave.  Is this correct."  

"As I said, Darius, this is my position." 

"And you would concur, that dispositions to behave are objective determinates of behavior.  They are that from which actual behaving emerges, right? 

"Yes, if I said that a gender were not something determinate, it would not be anything at all. It cannot be a nature, for if it were, then it could not be freely chosen. One must choose freely one's gender, for otherwise one could not be a viator.  One must be on a road filled with momentous decisions. There is no dignity in simply acting in accordance with a nature that has been determined by something other than the self." 

"I am still failing to follow you completely, Ashley.  Are you saying that the dispositions to behave that constitute your gender identity are freely chosen, or are they determined by something else?" 

"No, Darius.  There are dispositions to behave that I have, and I can identify with some of them and not others. What I identify with is my identity." 

"Let me understand this more deeply, Ashley. You are saying that you have a very complex set of dispositions to behave and that you can choose to identify with some of these dispositions and not others." 

"That is my claim, Darius." 

"Do you know how legislatures determine the districts from which representatives are elected?  They know that in districts there are regions where people tend to vote Democratic and other regions where they tend to vote Republican. If they are a Democratic legislature, they will try to gerrymander the district so that the Democratic regions are in the district and the Republican regions are excluded from it. They thus can elect a Democratic representative. One might say that the identity of the district is Democratic, and that they faithfully will elect Democratic representatives in perpetuity. Is this what you mean by a gender identity?  Are you saying that you can gerrymander dispositions to behave appropriately so that a particular gender identity is manifest?"  

"I have not thought of it in this way, Darius, but the condition you describe seems to me now to be the necessary condition of gender fluidity. We are a complicated set of dispositions to behave, and our identity is manifest by identifying with some of these dispositions and excluding others. After we accept an identity we are engaged in cultivating certain dispositions and suppressing others.  Such cultivation and suppression is the warf and woof of identity formation."  Ashley was obviously happy to be able to use "warf and woof" correctly.  

"Thank you, Ashley. It is important that we get clear on these matters, for failure to clarify may allow a contradiction to lurk in our position, and from a contradiction anything follows." 

"Upon this we agree, Darius. I don't want to argue a position with a hidden contradiction because there is no possible world in which a contradiction can hold, and I have always thought, in fact, that if a position cannot hold in a possible world, it cannot hold in the actual world." 

"Ashley, I am impressed by your modal thinking here, and you are, of course, correct. No impossible state of affairs can obtain in the actual world. But we digress from the main issue. We are trying to determine if you are describing a consistent state of affairs when you say that gender identity is constituted by either cultivating or suppressing already existing dispositions to behave. Your position is that gender identity A just is the inclusion of some set of dispositions G and exclusion of some set of dispositions H, that the original dispositions to behave are, as it were the raw data of your psychology, that these dispositions can change, and that identity is in fact freely organized.  We choose which dispositions with which to identify and with which not to identify." 

"This is my position, Darius, and I think it is self-consistent." 

"But let us reflect more deeply, Ashley. You have said previously that your organization of data is in fact a free one, emerging neither from a nature nor some set of deeper dispositions to behave." 

"I have said this, Darius." 

"So let me ask again, how is this possible?  How can one freely choose to identify and cultivate one set of dispositions over another?  What is that by virtue of which this occurs?  

"Darius, we are essentially free, that is, we have contra-casual freedom. We can do other than what we do, in fact, do.  When we choose to identify with a disposition, we are simply choosing freely." 

"But Ashley," replied Darius, "does this not mean that there are ultimately no dispositions that determine our character?  If we can choose freely to identify with set of dispositions G over H, and this is not determined by a disposition, then should we not say that the original dispositions constituting our raw psychological state is also the result of choosing to cultivate some tendencies we might have and choosing to suppress others?"

"I am not sure about this, Darius. This would mean that we really have no basic determinacy at all.  That is to say, we are just choosing all of our character. But I don't think I want to say that, Darius. I want to say that I could choose to embrace those parts of me that I already am."  

"But is that not the point, Ashley?  You are choosing to be who you are when as a viator, you explore different genders. You want to already be that which you become, right?"

"I think I can agree with that, Darius.  If I am to explore my gender identity, I need to be doing it on the basis of what I am. If I am going to identify myself as X, there must be some grounds of that identification.  But you are suggesting that what is good for the goose is good for the gander, that is to say, if it is on the basis of freedom that I choose to identify with a particular batch of dispositions, and if you further assert that this freedom allows me to cultivate dispositions that are consistent with the identity I wish to adopt and suppress other dispositions not consistent with that identity, then I am really engaged in freely constructing my gender.    But there is something about this that makes me uncomfortable." 

"What is that, Ashley?" 

She reflected a moment: "Part of the justification with exploring other gender identities and making others respect those identities is that we ought not discriminate against others."

Darius stared at Ashley for a long time before responding, "Yes, of course it has always been part of the way we have routinely regarded those having non-standard genders. We treat them as we do because we know at some level that they could not be other than how they are. It is an issue of civil rights, after all. A person can neither change the color of his skin nor change his sexual orientation. This is why we build gender neutral restrooms and enact gender neutral laws to protect minorities from prejudices of those in power. We do this because we realize that others have natural rights that we must respect.  It is not their fault, after all, that they have a non-standard gender identity." 

Ashley looked at Darius inquisitively and said, "But have we just now agreed that what is good for the goose   is good for the gander?  What I mean is that if we have freedom to gerrymander dispositions, cultivating some and suppressing others, would we not have such freedom at the level of the original dispositions themselves?  Don't we always have some identity or other and are we not trying to do those acts consistent with the identity we have?  What I realize now, is that the free choice of identity has likely always been the driving principle here, and that combing our subliminal depths for a real self is likely quite misguided.  After all, what rational support to we really have in the selection of criteria by which we adjudicate that one has a self and that, furthermore, that self posses a determinate nature?"  

Darius replied, "I see you are thinking this through carefully, Ashley. You see the problem now, don't you?  The viator's journey is supposed to be a voyage of self-discovery. Tying on gender roles is supposed to allow one to grasp one's authentic self, one's true nature, as it were, a nature that can finally order the chaos of our psychological life. The goal of the gender search is to find the identity that best fits one's experience and being. Society tolerates those differently-ordered because it respects the rights of all to be happy, and happiness entails that tensions between one's conscious and unconscious life be mitigated.  That is to say, one is a viator because one believes "to thine own self be true."  

"Yes," Ashley admitted. 

"But you know from our earlier discussions on the issue of freely choosing one's identity that, if this freedom be granted -- that is, there is no determinate nature that determinately prescribes or proscribes this choice -- then this freedom likely trickles all the way down to our most fundamental dispositions, and if this be so, then one ought not to regard gender as anything determinate in need of protection by one's civil rights."  

"Yes," replied Ashley, "and I see the problem."

But Darius would not let her finish: "The one holding that gender roles are freely chosen cannot say that gender ought to be protected by civil law. As an effect of free-will, it is not the kind of thing that people could have irrational prejudice about. Moreover, if gender roles are completely determined, then one has really no freedom in trying out other gender roles. Determinism with regards to gender pulls the rug out from underneath our modern would-be viator."

At this point, Ashley looked at Alisha and simply stopped talking. Alisha asked her to explain what happened next with Darius, but for Ashley the day had begun and ended with this conversation. Alisha told Ashley that she had done very well in her conversation with Darius, but Ashley would have none of it, for she knew that she could no longer do the things she had done before, or, if she did them again, she would hitherto have to think very differently about what she was doing. These things saddened her greatly.  

Alisha thought that a trip to the museum might cheer her friend, but Ashley wanted nothing more now than just to go home. So Alisha watched Ashley as the latter walked briskly away. Maybe tomorrow the memory of her conversation with Darius would fade and she could start to think about herself in the ways in which she was accustomed.  But Ashley knew this would likely not happen, and she remained despondent.  Things would likely not be the same ever again.    

Saturday, April 24, 2021

On Pluhar's Solution to Certain Problems of Uniting the Three Kantian Critiques: Part III

 III

Kant presupposes that both aesthetic and teleological judgments are legitimately made by reasonable men and women, and he is motivated to write the Critique of Judgment in part to justify these judgments. His claim that reflecting judgment (reflectierend Urteil) can mediate between understanding and reason is prefigured by two other mediations, one in the Critique of Pure Reason and the other in the Critique of Practical Reason. In the former, the schema mediates between the pure concepts of the understanding and the imagination and intuition. In the latter, the typus mediates between the moral law of reason and the understanding. 

In the Third Critique, Kant identifies feeling as that which mediates between the cognitive power of the understanding and the power of desire of pure practical reason. Feeling mediates by connecting pleasure with nature. It links the lower will as determined by sense and the higher will as determined by the moral law. While understanding legislates in the domain of nature and reason legislates in the domain of freedom, reflecting judgments -- legislating with respect to pleasure and displeasure -- link these two legislations.  

For Kant, the feeling of pleasure undergirds the universal subjective validity of judgments of taste. This feeling is not directed to something in particular. Instead, as Pluhar writes, it is directed toward the conditions of empirical judgment in general, i.e., to the "harmony of imagination and understanding," to conditions "presupposed to be the same for everyone" (Pluhar, Lxxxviii).  The power of judgment "with its indeterminate concept of nature's subjective purposiveness" governs or legislates to feeling" (CJ, lxxxvii).  Simply put, the power of judgment governs feeling through its employment of an indeterminate concept of the subjective purposiveness of nature.  

Pluhar, in his Introduction to the Critique of Judgment, points out that for Kant, the systematicity of the mental powers -- for instance, judgment mediating between understanding and reason -- mirrors the systematicity of the "worlds with which these mental powers deal" (Pluhar, Lxxxvii).  

Clearly, Kant supposes there are three levels of consideration in each Critique: the level of the supersensible, the realm of appearances, and the powers which legislate the realms. In the Critique of Pure Reason, the supersensible is indeterminate, application of the understanding produces lawfulness giving empirical nature, and the result is cognition.  In the Critique of Practical Reason, the supersensible is practically determined, reason uses final purpose producing freedom, and the result is the specification of the power of desire. In the Critique of Judgment, the supersensible is practically determinable, judgment employs purposiveness with respect to art, and the result is the feeling of pleasure and displeasure (CJ., 38). 

Kant seeks to give accounts of the mediation between understanding and reason at multiple levels. Since his account of aesthetic and teleological judgment involve the supersensible, he must give an account of how the supersensible in judgment, relates to the supersensibles of understanding and reason. Pluhar explains: 

Now understanding and the (theoretical) cognitive power deal with the "world" of appearance as it is but tell us nothing about the "world" underlying it, the supersensible "world" in itself, except that it is logically possible. Reason and the (higher) power of desire deal with the "world" of appearance as it ought to be and also tell us about the supersensible conditions of making it so: supersensible freedom, immortality of the soul, and God. As Kant sees it, he has not (fully) justified his claims about the supersensible, and the three Critiques cannot form a system (and thus be scientific), unless not only the mental powers but also those "worlds," especially as there are in themselves, are show to form a system.  That is why it is especially important for Kant to show not only that the power of judgment, just like understanding and reason, also points to a supersensible, viz., the supersensible basis of nature's subjective purposiveness, but also that this supersensbile mediates between the other "two" supersensibles and thus unites the "three" supersensibles in one (Pluhar, lxxxviii).  

While what Pluhar is trying to say may be clear enough, his way of expressing it could cause confusion.  Talk of "one," "two," or "three" supersensibles seems to presuppose there would be some way to individuate supersensibles, but what could this be? Just as regions of space "fall within" other regions, it would seem that supersensibles would do the same. Clearly, other than freedom, immortality and God, there are no discernible supersensible objects that might be classed into different sets. Only these three supersensible beings, the result of reason's practical postulates, give any determinacy to the supersensible. Pluhar is simply pointing out that the indeterminate supersensible underlying nature and its laws, the determinate supersensible underlying morality and its laws, and the determinable supersensible underlying beauty and its laws are one and the same. They together just are the supersensible

Pluhar believes that the key to successfully mediating the supersensibles of the understanding and reason is the "supersensible basis of nature's subjective purposiveness." What, however, warrants talk about this latter supersensible basis? The First Problem to which Pluhar attends is this: Given that the three supersensible must be united, on what basis does this unification happen? The solution, he thinks, is Kant's identification of "judgment's indeterminate concept of nature's subjective purposiveess and the indeterminate concept of the supersensible basis of that same purposiveness" (Pluhar, lxxxviii).  Specification of the solution involves solving the problem of the conflict in the Antinomy of Teleological Judgment. 

Problem I: Solving the Conflict in the Antimony of Teleological Judgment 

There is an apparent conflict in the Antinomy of Teleological Judgment between these two maxims: 

  • All material objects and their forms must be judged as possible only in terms of mechanical laws.
  • Some material objects cannot be judged possible merely on the basis of mechanical laws, but require laws appealing to the category of final cause. 
Is this conflict one of judgment between the necessity of mechanism and the contingency of purposiveness? Are we then only dealing with two kinds of regulative principles, the first which thinks X rationally in accordance with deterministic efficient causality, and the second construing X rationally in accordance with teleological final causality?  

After citing in an extended footnote Kant scholars who do understand the Antinomy of Teleological Judgment in terms of two different rational regulative principles, Pluhar assures us that Kant is not reneging on the results he established in the First Critique: "The universal laws of nature -- in particular, the principle of necessary efficient (mechanical) causality -- are legislated to nature by our understanding and hence are constitutive and determinative, not regulative" (Pluhar, xc).  The Antinomies are not merely a matter of two regulative uses of reason, but rather they point to the need to buttress mechanical explanations by appeal to another principle. The mechanism of the First Critique is insufficient for judging the totality of natural objects and natural law.  

Pluhar argues that Kant wants to reconcile mechanical and teleological explanation objectively (AK, 413).  In order to do this, the "necessity" of mechanical explanation cannot be an all-encompassing necessity, and the "contingency" of teleological explanation an all-encompassing contingency. But how is this possible? It is possible if we are not dealing with concepts here, but with the things themselves.  Pluhar explains: 
Kant says "objectively," rather than "determinatively," because for the same object or the same causal connection to be determined as both necessary and contingent would imply that they in fact are both necessary and contingent, which would indeed by contradictory and hence would not be possible (Pluhar, xci, fn. 94). 

Pluhar believes that Kant's appeal to objectivity requires an appeal to the supersensible itself.  He writes: 

Kant solves the antinomy between the necessary mechanism and the contingent teleological principle as he solves all his antinomies: by invoking the supersensible. . . Our understanding, Kant argues, has the peculiarity of being discursive, conceptual; and all concepts abstract (to some extent) from the particular: hence our understanding does not determine (legislate) the particular, but determines only the universal leaving the particular contingent.  As for our a priori intuitions, they too cannot determine all the particular that understanding leaves contingent (Pluhar, xci).

In order for the "maxims" of mechanistic and teleological judgment to be applied consistently to material objects, there must be some basis in the supersensible that would allow this. This basis in the supersensible concerns particulars. The particularity of biological organisms can neither be thought conceptually through application of the pure concepts of the understanding nor can such organisms be constituted out of intuitions conforming to the pure a priori forms of sensibility: space and time. So what is their basis? 

Pluhar believes that Kant here makes an appeal to intellectual intuition

[Implied is] the idea of a possible different understanding, an understanding that is not discursive (i.e., does not omit the particular in its legislation) but is intuitive. Such an understanding would legislate a "synthetic" universal, i.e., a undersell in the sense of a whole that includes determination of the particular in that whole.  An intuitive understanding would thus be an understanding that simply determines, and hence would be an understating "in the most general sense," for, while any understanding requires intuition (to supply the particular needed for cognition), we are not entitled to assume that any understanding must have, as ours does, an intuition which is separate from it and through which the particular is merely given (empirically) rather than legislated along with the universal. . . Such an understanding's intuition would thus not be a mere receptivity (which is passive), and hence not a sensibility as our own intuition is, but would be an intellectual intuition, a complete spontaneity (i.e., it would be completely active): it would determine objects completely (Pluhar, xcii). 

This type of intuition would not need sensible intuition and imagination for cognition, but "would determine objects in terms of the harmony within this understanding itself" (Pluhar, xcii).  Since intellectual intuition would not require that the particular be provide outside of or to the understanding, the particular could be present along with the universal. If this were the case, however, objects would be constituted as "complete, as things in themselves, no as mere appearances" (Pluhar, xcii).  What is the significance of this? 

If one grants intellectual intuition, then things in themselves would have a particularity in themselves.  Pluhar explains: 

Nature in itself would simply be the intellectual (supersensible) intuition of the intuitive understanding, just as our world of experience simply is the experience that consists of our empirical intuition as structured in harmony with our categories (Pluhar, xcii).  

Has Kant found God theoretically according to Pluhar?  Not quite: 

By the same token, such a supersensible understanding with its supersensible intuitions cannot be called God; rather, the idea of it is utterly inderminate, negative, the mere idea of an understanding that "is not discursive."

 But what Pluhar has found, he believes is enough to solve the antinomy of teleology judgment.  

With this mere idea of an "intuitive understanding," Kant can now solve the antinomy of teleological judgment.  As an intuitive understanding would necessitate even the particular, the mere idea of such an understanding permits us to think of the "contingency" of the particular as being only a seeming contingency, a "contingency for" our understanding with its peculiarity, but as in fact being a necessity.  A merely seeming contingency that is in fact a necessity does not conflict with the necessity implicit in mechanism. Hence "objectively too" it is at least possible to reconcile the mechanistic principle with the teleological, for it is at least possible that the causal connections that we have to judge in terms of purposes and hence as contingent are in fact legislated theoretically and are therefore necessary. The laws covering those necessary but yet particular causal connections would then either have the same basis as mechanism (viz., the intellectual intuition of that intuitive understating) or would perhaps even be identical with the mechanism familiar to us -- identical in the sense of forming part, along with the mechanism familiar to us, of some ideal mechanism, in which case even organisms would be possible on this (ideal) mechanism alone (Pluhar, xciii). 

The solution that Pluhar finds in Kant is that there may be mechanism within the supersensible, one to which human beings have no epistemic access, a mechanism that a "higher understanding" might nonetheless access and legislate. The antinomy of teleological judgment is thus solved because it is possible that a being with intellectual intuition could have access to this mechanism, a mechanism which objectively would allow for our judgments of purposiveness. There is some state of supersensible affairs on the basis of which the thesis and antithesis of the Antinomy of Teleological Judgment can both be asserted without contradiction. That is to say, both assertions are consistent with the supersensible, "objective" existence of such an "ideal mechanism" which would allow for purpose as it appears to us. Pluhar claims that this supersensible state of affairs would allow for both objective and subjective purposiveness. 

. . . the antinomy of "teleological" judgment and its solution apply just as much to the subjective purposiveness of nature which is claimed in the principle of reflective judgment itself, for this purposiveness too is clearly contingent in terms of mechanism and yet is a purposiveness of nature and as such is subject to nature's necessity.  Hence it too can be thought without contradiction only if we think of the "contingency" it implies as in fact being a necessity legislated by an intuitive understanding with its intellectual intuition (Pluhar, xciii). 

Prima facie, this seems consistent with this famous passage from Kant:

Since universal natural laws have their basis in our understanding . . . the particular empirical laws must . . be viewed in terms of such a unity as [they would have] if they too had been given by an understanding (even though not ours) so as to assist our cognitive powers . . ." (Ak, 180, 181, 184).  

Because the "solution" to the Antinomy of Teleological Judgment applies both to objective and subjective purposiveness of nature, it applies "to nature's subject purposiveness as judge aesthetically, i.e., to nature's purposiveness without a purpose" (Pluhar, xciv).  Since this purposiveness has both contingency and necessity, it can "be thought without contradiction only if we have recourse to the idea of a supersensible intuition as necessitating the particular" (Ibid.). It is on this basis that Kant can claim that the antinomy of aesthetic judgment and the antinomy of teleological judgment are merely manifestations of one antinomy.  

We are now in a position to understand Pluhar's statement of the "solution" to Problem I concerning the unity of the supersensible.  Pluhar writes: 

Nature's subjective purposiveness is the indeterminate form (or "lawfulness," i.e., regularity or order) that nature has in the particular; and the indeterminate concept of this purposiveness is the indeterminate concept of that form of the particular. But this concept is contradictory (because of the antinomy) unless we think of this purposive form as necessitated (a priori) by an intellectual intuition.  Moreover, just as our a priori concepts and intuitions are the forms that we give to all objects of appearance, so the purposive form that would be necessitated by this intellectual intuition would simply be that intuition. . . Hence, according to our indeterminate concept of this supersensible intuition, the world in itself would be the completely determinate form which that intellectual intuition is (Pluhar, xcv). 

Pluhar further speculates in a footnote that the "purposive form of nature's particular might be only part of the form that the intellectual intuition is." It may be that the intuitive understanding legislates through the same intuition "in terms of the mechanism familiar to us, or in terms of laws pertaining to both the purposive and the mechanistic forms in nature, in nature outside and within us" (Pluhar, xcv, fn 99). Pluhar claims that if the purposive form of nature's particulars were but part of the form of the intellectual intuition, it would "still be necessitated by, and hence would still be based on and (in that part) be, that intellectual intuition" (Ibid.).  

Pluhar is thus arguing that the notion of an intellectual intuition, long held by the majority of Kant scholars as something that the philosopher robustly dismisses, does play an important role in Kant's philosophy after all.  As it turns out, "in order to think of nature's subjective purposiveness without contradicting ourselves we must think of this form as being identical with the form that such an intellectual intuition would be" (Ibid.).  Because the intellectual intuition can be thought of as the supersensible basis of nature's subjective purposiveness, the concept of nature's subjective purposiveness is equivalent to the concept of the supersensible basis of that purposiveness. Pluhar wants to clarify: While the concepts are not synonymous, they have the same extension in that the forms to which they refer are identical.  Pluhar explains: 

In order for us to judge, without contradiction, an object as beautiful, this judgment must be taken to imply (noncognitively) that the object has the kind of form that only a supersensible understanding could have given it through its intellectual intuition (Pluhar, xcvi). 

Since the concept of nature's subjective purposiveness is indeterminate, the concept of the supersensible ground of that purposiveness must be indeterminate as well. Moreover, our concept of the form that the intellectual intuition would be and have is also indeterminate. In so far as we contemplate subjective purposiveness, the concepts must be wholly indeterminate, but objective purposiveness does demand some determinacy of concepts, and thus Pluhar believes that "determinate concepts of purposes . . . must be included as details in the otherwise indeterminate concept of [an] intellectual intuition" (Pluhar, xcvii). 

With this, Pluhar believes he has stated and solved Problem I. The question had to do with the universalizability of aesthetic judgments. In response, Kant claims that an indeterminate concept of the supersensible must underly nature's purposiveness if there is going to be any universalizability of judgment. The solution is that one can justifiably treat as equivalent the indeterminate concept of nature's purposiveness for our cognitive power with the indeterminate concept of the of the supersensible basis of that same purposiveness.  

Problem II: The Derminability of the Supersensible

Pluhar's second problem is this: "How can the concept of the supersensible basis of nature's subjective purposiveness make determinable the concept of the supersensible that is contained practically in the idea of freedom, and thus help make the supersensible cognizable practically, even though the concept of the supersensible as a basis of nature's subjective purposiveness in indeterminate?" (Pluhar, xcvii).  How can this supersensible mediate between the other two so that the "three supersensbiles turn out to be one and the same?" (Ibid.). 

Pluhar gives the following argument: 

  1. The concept of the supersensible nature of nature's subjective purposiveness is equivalent to the concept of nature's subjective purposiveness.  
  2. The concept of nature's subjective purposiveness belongs to the power of judgment. 
  3. The power of judgment is a function of the understanding. 
  4. Thus, our understanding must be able to think not only the concept of nature's subjective purposiveness, but also the concept of the supersensible basis of that purposiveness.  
But can the understanding do this?  Is it not of the very nature of the supersensible that there be no epistemic access to it?  Again an appeal to intellectual intuition is needed.  Reason can think such an supersensible, but the understanding cannot know it.  

Our understanding is discursive and thus not intuitive.  Intuitions must be given to it through the sensibility.  Because of the limitation of the structure of our understanding, we cannot conceive how an intuitive understanding would be possible. What would be the nature of such an understanding?  Unlike ours, it could legislate not merely the universal, but the particular as well.  It would be able to legislate a "synthetic" universal -- a whole that would make possible the character and combination of the parts -- something we cannot do.  While we can conceive the character and combination of the parts determining the whole mechanically, as it were, we can't understand how the whole could determine the parts.  

This is not to say that we can't have an idea of a whole making possible the character and the combination of its parts.  We have an idea of this, after all; it is called purpose.  We can think of another understanding as causing the particular and determining its form, but we can only conceive this practically.  We have no epistemic access to how it could legislate theoretically the particular.  Our understanding cannot think the particular in any other way than through the category of purpose.  In fact, when we think in terms of purpose, we do so by analogy with our own technically practical ability to produce objects through art by our understanding and reason (Pluhar, xcviii - xcvix). When our understanding thinks by means of judgment's concept of the purposiveness of nature in particular, it thinks the other understanding as an intelligent cause of the world in terms of purpose (Pluhar, xcix). The point is this: Although the concept of supersensible basis of nature's purposiveness remains indeterminate, through an analogy with our technically practical ability, it becomes determinable.  

Kant discusses all of this. By subordinating mechanism to purposive causality, our understanding can conceive of a world whose purposiveness if caused by some intelligence. "It can go on to conceive of this intelligent cause as using mechanism, just as we humans do, as the means to the purposes it pursues (Ak. 414,390), 'as an instrument, as it were' (Ak. 422)" (Pluhar, xcix).  

In subordinating mechanism to purposiveness, understanding does not resolve the antinomy. We cannot think such a subordination.  However, reason can appeal to the notion of an intellectual understanding using intellectual intuition. Understanding and its judgment cannot think the apparent purposive order in nature's particularity as involving necessity, but reason can think of an intellectual intuition that could resolve that antinomy at its supersensible basis. 

The point is that the indeterminate concept of the supersensible underlying nature in the Critique of Pure Reason is now a determinable concept of the supersensible.  How is this?  It is determinable practically, i.e., morally by reason. Pluhar explains: 

While we could not intelligibly have described a mere (utterly indeterminate) "supersensible basis of nature" in moral terms, viz., as being a "nature in itself created, in terms of the final purpose, by a God having all the divine perfections," we certainly can intelligibly describe in such terms a nature in itself created, as an intentional purpose, bu an intelligent cause.  In other words, we can now think of this cause as moral author of the world by reference to the final purpose, and hence we can almost think of nature as being forced by this moral author to cooperate with our attempt to achieve the final purpose" (Pluhar, ci).  

The solution is upon us.  As we have seen in the first problem, the antinomy of teleological (and aesthetic) judgment could only be solved by appeal to the supersensible basis of nature's subject and objective purposiveness.  But the concept of the supersensible basis for nature's purposiveness is at the same time the concept of the intuitive understanding with its intellectual intuition. But since our discursive understanding cannot think the intuitive understanding, it thinks instead the supersensible basis of nature's purposiveness as an intelligent cause of the world, a designer. This concept, now determinable, "mediates" between the indeterminate concept of the supersensible in the Critique of Pure Reason, and the determinate concept of the supersensible in the Critique of Practical Reason.  Simply put, through the mediation of judgment's concept of the supersensible basis of nature's purposiveness, the three supersensibles are united in one.  Pluhar declares, "the substrate of nature was merely made determinate enough to be nature in itself as the purpose brought about by an intelligent cause, and then to be nature in itself as cause by a moral author, a God" (Pluhar, cii). 

Problem III: Mediation and the Spontaneity in the Play of the Cognitive Powers

Kant claimed that nature's purposiveness is "suitable" for mediation because it involves a "spontaneity in the play of the cognitive powers, whose harmony with each other contains the basis of [the] pleasure [that we feel in judging the beautiful" (Ak. 197). Pluhar points out that Kant also claimed that the "essential" part of the Critique of Judgment is the Critique of Aesthetic Judgment (Pluhar, cii).  Unlike teleological judgment which appeals to reason with its determinate concepts of purposes, judgments of taste are grounded only in the power of judgment (Ibid.).  Why are judgments of taste more suitable for mediation than judgments involving reason and its determinate concepts of purpose? 

Pluhar gives a number of reasons why these judgments are more suitable. Although the mediation involves supersensibles, this mediation is paralleled by a mediation within our the higher cognitive powers, a  mediation of our legislative powers. In fact, there are three levels in which judgment mediates: 1) A mediation among our cognitive powers, 2) a mediation among the worlds of appearance, and 3) a mediation among supersensibles. The power of judgment is to mediate nature and freedom at these three different levels. Subjective purposiveness, that is a purposiveness without a purpose, constitutes the domain of the aesthetic, and this purposiveness "is 'analogous' to or 'symbolic' of the supersensible form that the moral law enjoins us to impose on nature"(Pluhar, ciii). Pluhar explains: 

What makes this purposiveness analogous to supersensible (moral) form is that, since it involves no determinate concept of a natural purpose with its objective with its objective . . . purposiveness, it is a purely formal and free purposiveness. It is formal, as the moral law is formal; it is free, as our will is free to obey or disobey the moral law . . .  Moreover, the 'play' in which our cognitive powers are when we judge subjective purposiveness aesthetically is 'spontaneous': i.e., this play is 'active' inasmuch as it sustains itself . . . and in this respect it is again similar to our will's freedom, which is active by being a special causality  (Pluhar, ciii). 

The role of aesthetic judgment is displayed in consciousness. In judgments of taste we are nonconceptually conscious "of the free harmonious play of imagination and understanding", and this nonconceptual consciousness just is that feeling of pleasure we have in judgments of taste (Pluhar, ciii).  Because there is a connection between this pleasure and the moral law and its freedom, the pleasure presented in judgments of tase our linked to moral feeling, that is, respect for the moral law and our own freedom in performing it. Because of this "spontaneity in the play of the cognitive powers, as accompanied by our awareness of it, can lead to moral feeling" (Pluhar, civ).  

A Problem Not Solved

So there are the three problems and their solutions. But are all things solved?  Pluhar points out that they are not, for the solutions of the Antinomy of Teleological Judgment in the Critique of Judgment conflicts with the solution of the Third Antinomy in the Critique of Pure Reason.  

The problem is that in "solving" the Antinomy of Teleological Judgment, Kant has "pushed" the supersensible in the direction of necessity and has seemingly abandoned freedom. If a non-discursive, intellectual intuition could understand how nature works without appealing to purpose, then the ground upon which the concepts of subjective and objective purposiveness rests, a ground indeterminate but now determinable, seems unable to allow for freedom as it is in itself with regard to the practical reasoning of the Critique of Practical Reason.  

On the other hand, if one were to take very seriously practical reason's declaration that there really is freedom, then the categories of the Critique of Pure Reason which legislate mechanistic determinism fall wholly within in the realm of appearance, and this appearance brings illusion. We human knowers will always understand every event to have a cause, but the causality involved in human action is real. Cognition involves reflection through concepts, and it is with reflection that mechanism arises. But human freedom is real, and ultimately human beings in their moral autonomy escape the fate of the natural. Thus, Kant is solidly a Romantic after all!   

So the mediation proffered by judgment may not be ultimately successful to overcome the Kantian dualism.  Either the determinability at judgment's supersensible is a higher-level mechanism, and no freedom is possible, or there is real freedom, and the mediation by judgment in the direction of such a mechanism is itself only an appearance.  

Overcoming dualism is difficult for the connection between the two domains generally falls into one domain or the other.  It seems to have happened here as well. 

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Reflections on Kant's Quest for the Unity of Reason


I first came to Kant as an undergraduate student, trying to read a text I found at the library with the interesting title, The Critique of Pure Reason.  I recall attempting to figure out what Kant meant by the analytic/synthetic distinction and why he thought it so important.  I liked metaphysics even then, I must admit, and was accordingly puzzled why Kant was so chary of it.

I also vividly remember taking in my last undergraduate semester a course entitled "Freedom and Determinism," in which I wrote a paper complaining that Kant could and ought not be a half-way determinist.  If the results of the First Critique are a thoroughgoing mechanistic determinism, then clearly there is no freedom, certainly not the freedom Kant extols in his Critique of Practical Reason.  I was an incompatibilist back then, I suppose, for I thought that if all acts are determined, then there can be no contra-causal freedom and philosophical libertarianism is false, and conversely, if some actions are contra-causally free -- philosophical libertarianism is true -- then not all acts are determined.

Compatibilism was, I thought, simply a lack of courage.  If I really could have done other than I did do -- and write 'really could not have done' instead of 'really could have done' in the earlier part of this sentence -- then not all acts are mechanistically determined and the results of Kant's First Critique are wrong.  How could the conclusions of both Critiques be true?   If mechanistic determinism, then no freedom; if freedom then no mechanistic determinism.  Tertium non datur!!  

I have read quite a bit of philosophy since those early days, but I must confess that I have not really gotten sufficient clarity on the freedom/determinism issue to make much progress.  Clearly, every event has a cause including each act that I do.  Yet if I am not really free to do other than what I did do, then I cannot be culpable for my actions.  With what propriety can I ascribe praise and blame to someone who cannot do other than what he does do?

Probably James' "Dilemma of Determinism" was most convincing to me.  I can believe in freedom of the will.  On questions that are momentous, unavoidable, and not ultimately empirically determinable, then I have a right to choose that belief which is most subjectively satisfying.  Either freedom of the will is true or it is not true.  If it is not true, then I am in the subjectively unsatisfying position of always regretting actions I do which, if determinism is true, I could not have not done.  My experience is one of regretting what is unchangeable, and even, if enlightened about determinism, regretting my regretting of what is unchangeable.  Why would one choose to believe that which makes a mockery out of one's very moral experience?

But my practical belief in libertarianism (the freedom to do other than what one did do) could not dispel my theoretical doubts. After all, it seemed to me then, and seems to me now, that everything in the universe is ultimately physical -- including us.  This means inter alter that explanation schemes for the realization of contra-causal action are difficult to frame. Assume that macro-event A causes macro-event B.  Given that physicalism is likely true -- that what there ultimately is in the universe are those entities over which the quantifiers of our fundamental theories of micro-physics quantify -- then each macro-event must have some realization at progressively lower levels of descriptions terminating in those most basic entities (or fields) over which micro-physics quantifies.

Even though 'A causes B' can perhaps not be given a reductive analysis in terms of a congeries of micro-events and entities constituting A and a congeries of micro-events and entities constituting B, it is nonetheless true that some set of entities and events realize A and some other set realize B.  Presumably, top-down causality does not hold, i.e., that actualizations at upper levels can causally influence the distribution of their realizers at the lower levels.  Accordingly, the laws effecting the distribution of lower level events and entities must be indigenous to those lower levels.  Thus, the distribution of these lower level events and entities will metaphysically determine the causal relations at the upper levels.  Simply put, macro-causality is realized by the physical micro-causal, and there is no room for the contra-causal agency of human beings.  While there is no type/type identity between macro-events and their realizers, there is token/token identity.  That is to say, every occasion of A need not be realized in the same way at the lower levels, but there must be some realization or other of A.   One might say that A and B are multiply realizable at the lower levels.

It is precisely these considerations that have made it difficult for me to get clear on any way to solve the problem of freedom and nature.  Freedom seems not to be part of nature, but profoundly part of what it is to be me.  Nature seems not to have any freedom, and indeed to give it freedom seems to make a mockery out of our science.  How could the lower level physical realizers of uncaused actions spontaneously appear?

All of this is but an extended introduction to Immanuel Kant's Third Critique.  In his 1790 Critique of Judgment -- actually it is Der Kritik der Urtielkraft, or "Critique of the Power of Judgment"-- Kant mounts a spirited defense of a position that animated earlier readers of the Kritik, but has not been much understood since.  In this Critique, Kant argues for the possibility of a rapprochement between Nature and Freedom, between the results of the First Critique and the results of the Second.  Famously, he argues for a different type of judgment than the determinative judgments of the first two Critiques.

While it is the imagination and understanding which work to form and experience the objects of the empirical world according to the laws of nature we ourselves promulgate, and while it is reason that functions to determine our moral experience according to the moral law that we autonomously legislate, there is a judgment tied to aesthetics and teleology that does not determine the particular on the basis of the universal, but which allows a universal to be thought on the basis of the particular.  In this reflective judgment, which Kant does not explicitly connect to aesthetics in the Critique of Judgment, there is granted a license to judge universally and subjectively the purposiveness of that which has no purpose.  In this judgment, one is ultimately allowed to think that there is a supersensible substratum connecting the sensibility of nature and the supersensibility of freedom, a noumenal reality that shows itself in teleological organization in nature, and in the doing, rescues nature from a position of total otherness (alienation?) from freedom.

Imagine John acting to save Mary from her drug addiction.  Presumably, John could not have acted so to save Mary, but did so act, and thus his act is freely done and praiseworthy because of it.  But where does John realize his free decision to do other than what he might have done and take Mary to the drug treatment center?

He seemingly must do this action wholly embodied in nature  -- his body is physical and his actions are physical events -- and thus the entire realization of his free decision so to act is subject to the determinism of nature.  So how could this free act be possible in a mechanical universe?  What are the transcendental conditions allowing for the realization of Freedom in Nature?

Kant's answer is that we are allowed to think that there is in nature purposive structure.  The heart exists to pump blood.  The pumping of the blood allows the heart to be conceived as cause.  The symmetries of nature allow a designer to be thought as cause.  Nature itself organizes itself, and in this organization points to a summum bonum as the limit of such organization, as the attractor towards which all things flow.  In the organization of nature can be found the manifestation of the supersensible, a manifestation that makes possible the realization of freedom precisely in the determinism of nature.  Kant is hoping to locate a unity to reason grounding both its theoretical and practical operations, a unity that does not, however, fall prey to the antinomies of Pure Reason, a unity that escapes the charge of the bare posit of another pulling of a metaphysical rabbit out of the hat.

An evaluation of the degree to which Kant is successful must await, however, a precise statement of the argument for the unity of reason found in the Critique of Judgment.  It is to this that I hope soon to return.

Tuesday, November 04, 2014

Reformation Freedom


This was released by the Institute of Lutheran Theology last Friday.   I couldn't bring the formatting through well to this blog page, but I decided the content might make it worth putting up anyway.   Hopefully, every Lutheran already knows this . . . 

October 31, 2014 (Reformation Day) points to the beginning of the Reformation in Europe.   The gospel reading from John 8, asserts this: “If you continue in My word, then you are truly disciples of Mine;  and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free” (31-32).  Reformation Day is all about freedom.   It is not, however, about freedom in the sense that most Americans think.   When we citizens of western democracies think of freedom, we are likely to think the following:  A person is free if and only if that person is able to do what the person wants to do.  This freedom from external constraint or compulsion is what is meant by political or civil freedom.   A free people are a people whom the state does not coerce, who have natural rights for the pursuit of happiness that cannot be taken away by the state and must be honored by the state.   Some read the Reformation as a movement towards individual freedom.   Each person has a free conscience, and can interpret Scripture properly on his or her own.  According to this line of interpretation, this notion developed into freedom of religion, a idea that Americans understand as a constitutional right.  The Reformation gave greater freedom to individuals over and against the powers of Church and Empire.  But this way of understanding freedom, is not what Jesus is talking about here.  This notion of freedom is not Reformation freedom.         

Teaching philosophy for so many years has made me acutely aware of a second sense of freedom:  A person is free if and only if that person could have done other than what he or she did do.  This understanding of freedom speaks to so-called "contra-causal causality":  Is a person merely moved along by the movement of the subatomic particles comprising him, or has that person real freedom with respect to those particles?  The idea is this:  We are all made up of matter (energy) that is ruled by certain fundamental laws of motion.   The decisions we make are actually determined by the neurons and synapses of our brain that, in turn, our comprised of matter (energy) obeying laws of motion.  Thus, when I choose to go through door A rather than B, I am really just being moved neurophysiologically to walk through A rather than B.  Free choice is an illusion.  If I knew all of the laws of motion at work in the system, I would be able to calculate with absolute certainity the future movement of any particles in that system - - this includes particles that make up people and thus includes the people themselves.   But this philosophical sense of freedom is not something about which John 8 is concerned.  This is notion of freedom is not Reformation freedom.

What John 8 concerns is a specifically Christian sense of freedom:  A person is free if and only if that person wants to do, and is able to do, that which that person ought to do.  The idea here can be seen easily with respect to the alcoholic.   He may not rationally want to drink, and indeed may be successful not drinking much of the time, but he always passionally wants to drink.  He is always besieged by the desire to drink, and finds himself divided: He does not want to drink at the same time as he deeply wants to drink.   It is this way with respect to sin.   St. Paul discusses this in Romans 7.  "So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand.  For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members."  The sinner, like the alcoholic, is divided.  He is a slave to sin, rationally wanting desperately not to do that which he wants passionally to do.  All of us our in bondage to sin and cannot free ourselves.    The freedom of the Reformation is a freedom that returns the sinner back to what God would have him be; it is a re-forming of a self de-formed by sin.   The freedom of the Christian is a freedom from sin that quells the divided self, allowing the believer a sense of peace through certain knowledge that that she is becoming, and in some sense already is, that which God has intended her to be.  

Christian freedom is not an absence of external compulsion like in civil freedom, nor is it an absence of internal compulsion like in philosophical freedom, it is rather a reorientation of the whole way of thinking about freedom.  Christian freedom does not measure freedom with respect to the self, but rather with respect to God. The Reformation's deepest insight is that when God looks upon us, He sees his holy, innocent, suffering Son, and thus he sees us as being who we are intended by God to be.  God justifies sinners, and in so doing gives the gift of freedom: We are who God wants us to be on account of Christ.   This is true Reformation freedom. May the freedom of the Reformation animate you and keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus! 

Dennis Bielfeldt, Ph. D
President
Institute of Lutheran Theology 

Tuesday, October 09, 2012

Getting Clear on the Nature of Law


Lutherans have always argued about the law.  Is there only a first and second use, or is there also a third use?  Does the law go away when grace arrives?  Is the law eternal?   Is there sin prior to law, or  is law only possible on the basis of sin?  Is living out "the form of the Gospel" a living according to the law or not?   Moreover, are good works necessary for salvation, and, if so, how can there doing not be legalistic?

Lutherans have tried mightily to say precisely what separates law and gospel, and what makes Christian living free, that is, what makes it not living underneath the law.  While I will not answer all the questions above, I want to offer a fairly commonsense way of looking at things that might help us address these questions.

I like sometimes to step away from the particularity of Christian language and describe situations using another vocabulary.  The reason for this is that we can sometimes can get more clear on what we are asserting when we employ a vocabulary that is not that to which we are accustomed.   I will proceed in this way in the remainder of this reflection.

Broadly conceived, the Christian story is one supposing that the way that things are simply is not the way things are supposed to be.   God created the universe good, but it is no longer so.   How this came to be is, of course, a matter that is not altogether clear.   How precisely is a wholly good creation nevertheless one in which elements of it become disoriented from the good?   But the mystery of the Fall is not my concern here.    I am interested merely in the distinction between the "is" and "ought."   The world is a particular way, but it ought to be a different way.

Theories of atonement specify how it is that the way things are, but are not supposed to be, nonetheless becomes again the way things are supposed to be.   In traditional language, God who is displeased with the world, nonetheless comes to accept the world.   That which is displeasing becomes pleasing to Him.

Law in Christian theology is tied to ought.   God intends the world to proceed X-ly, but the world does not proceed in this way.   The "is" of the world does not correspond to its "ought."  In a late medieval sense, law is that which is reasonable, promulgated by a competent authority, and capable of being enforced.   The contour of the world which is, is not that which is reasonable, promulgated by God, and capable of being enforced by Him.

When talking about law in the first and second senses, Lutheran theology clearly wants to address the "supposed to be-ness" of things.   We might use a semantics of possible worlds in discussing this.   Because we are speaking of conformity with God's will, we should probably avoid "deontologically possible worlds" (or some such jargon) in favor of speaking about worlds varying in conformity with divine intent.   A world fully in accordance with divine intent would thus be very distant from us, while one wholly not in accordance with this intent would be proximal to the actual world.

What I am thinking of is conceiving a World set S with the actual world and a set of worlds w1, w2, w3, etc., where the higher number indicates greater conformity with God's will and greater distance from w0, the actual world.   The first and second uses of the law can thus be analyzed as follows:  God demands x, is to say that there is some world w such that w is not the actual world and that w is, in fact, suitably distant from the actual world, and that x is in w, though x is not in the actual world.   To say that God wills x is simply to say that x is in every world w in S.  In other worlds, the w containing x is now actual.

What about the third use of the law?   Is it also to be analyzed in this way?

I think that we must make a distinction here between two senses of 'law'.  The sense which I have alluded to above clearly carries the weight of the "ought."   Traditional Christian natural law theory evinced this sense.   There was a "way that things are supposed to go" to things, even if things did not go that way.   The way that things were supposed to go was a simple as 'bodies ought to fall'.

But at the birth of modern science the old "way that things are supposed to go" of things, the teleological sense of things was lost and replaced by "the way things inexorably do go" of things.  Laws that once spoke of the divine ought were replaced by universal regularities that were, in some sense, necessary.  That two objects attract each other directly proportional to the product of their masses and inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them is not the way things ought to be, but merely the way that things are.   Laws of motion express how things simply are.  With respect to physical actualizations, there are no worlds other than the actual world that could be different than the actual world.

If we understand the third use of the law descriptively in this fashion, then we are simply saying that the actual world with its particular contour could not have been other than it was given certain conditions.   What I am saying is that the particular contour of the Christian life is free because it simply could not be other than it is; its freedom is found in its necessity.   We are freed by Christ and as free men and women in Christ we are what we are given the conditions that God has wrought in Christ.

When listening to Christian preaching, one must ask if the preacher is advocating that a world that is not the actual world should be the actual world.   If she or he is advocating this, the law is being preached.   On the other hand, if the preacher is describing what is the case and cannot be other than the case for the one graced by the Living Christ, then the "form of the gospel" is being described, and there is occasion for the law's "third use" - - which is not the law at all.   Law avers that a world that is not the actual one should replace the actual one.  The Gospel discomfits this way of proceeding, claiming that the actual world needs no replacement.

More needs to be said to justify the claim that the actual world is necessary when the Gospel is preached and lived.   Surely there are physically different actualizations of the preached and lived Gospel!

But what I am claiming is that the Gospel is necessary in the sense that there is no longer any set of worlds, w1, w2, w3, etc., such that there is nomological distance between these worlds and the actual one.   All of this can and should be made more clear, but the general point should be apparent.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

A Review of Searle's Freedom and Neurobiology

In this very brief book John Searle continues his project of trying to naturalize the psychological and social without doing away with either, or reducing them to the natural. Comprised of versions of two lectures he delivered at the Sorbonne in 2001, the text easily succeeds in drawing the non-specialist into the fray. The first essay, “Free Will as a Problem in Neurobiology,” addresses the putative incompatibility between the doctrine of freedom of the will and contemporary neurobiology by suggesting an account of free will that allows for an empirical, scientific solution. The second, “Social Ontology and Political Power,” argues the logical priority of language to the existence of social institutions and political power, and claims inter alia that deontic powers are ultimately grounded in social ontology. The 35 page introduction, “Philosophy and the Basic Facts,” attempts to situate the two apparently disparate lectures within Searle’s larger philosophical enterprise, though he does admit that at “the level of authorial intent, [the two original lectures] do not have any connection” (3). Common to both freedom and institutional facts is the existence of consciousness, intentionality, rationality and language.

Clearly, Searle gets the central question right: “How can we square this self-conception of ourselves as mindful, meaning-creating, free, rational, etc., agents with a universe that consists entirely of mindless, meaningless, unfree, nonrational, brute physical particles?” (5) This very old question is especially acute today because dualism no longer has plausibility in educated quarters. We simply know too much about the natural machinery of the brain to be able to ignore naturalistic explanations of mind. In our time, explanations of ourselves must be naturalistic. Accordingly, we should ask how consciousness, intentionality, language, rationality, free-will, social institutions, politics and ethics are possible in a closed, physical universe. As Searle points out, these eight notions are logically related: intentionality presupposes consciousness, language presupposes intentionality, rationality is constitutive structurally of language and intentionality, free-will is coextensive with rationality, social institutions presuppose language, and politics and ethics presuppose all the other categories.

Searle thinks one can work on some of the problems without solving all of them. Each issue must be treated naturalistically; each must be understood on the basis of the naturalistic facts, without thereby reducing to those facts. Accordingly, Searle rejects materialism and eliminativism, as well as Cartesian dualism and Popperian-Ecclesian/Fregian-Penrosian trialisms. For Searle, universals are rightfully understood as property exemplifications and numbers as properties of sets. While there is but one world, first-person accounts of it cannot be reduced to third-person accounts. While consciousness, intentionality, etc., are irreducible to the basic natural facts, their existence nonetheless does not entail the existence of a distinct ontological domain.

Why does Searle believe that the philosophical climate has changed, and that one can now escape the “Scylla of materialism and the Charybdis of dualism and trialism?” (26) He gives four reasons. Firstly, we know too much now to take seriously the skeptical claims about the material world that grounded the development of modern epistemology. Secondly, just as epistemology has been eclipsed from the center of the contemporary philosophical enterprise, so has the philosophy of language. Language is derivative upon prelinguistic, “biologically fundamental forms of intentionality.” Thirdly, with the displacement of philosophy of language from the center, there is a growing openness to do philosophy once again systematically and on a larger-scale. Finally, contemporary philosophy can no longer sharply divide conceptual and empirical issues.

In “Free-Will as a Problem in Neurobiology,” Searle attempts to resolve the traditional free will problem in such a way so that one could, in principle, open it to empirical and scientific investigation. The free-will problem is generated by claiming the following: 1) All natural events have deterministic explanations, i.e., there are sufficient causal conditions for the occurrence of each and every natural event; 2) There is some set of human behavior that is free, i.e., they do not have sufficient causal conditions; 3) This set is a subset of the set of natural events. Searle points to the experience of “volitional consciousness” where one can discern no deterministic causal chain: there is a gap between reasons and decisions, decisions and actions, and actions and their perpetuation. Searle distinguishes the event-event causality of nature (‘A causes B’) from agent-event causality (‘S performs A due to reason R’). He then offers an interesting transcendental argument (53-55) for the existence of the self on the basis of the necessity of specifying R.

Searle has now brought his readers to the point of considering a non-Humean self having consciousness and acting due to reasons. The question then arises as to the nature of consciousness. For Searle, consciousness is a higher-level, systemic property realized by the instantiation of lower-level neural properties. (He espouses naturalism, after all.) At the higher-level there is intentionality, rationality and freedom; at the lower level there are just neural firings and synapse formations. So how is higher-level freedom realized neutrally?

I greatly appreciate Searle’s clear statement of the problematic: “The thesis of determinism asserts that all actions are preceded by sufficient causal conditions that determine them. The thesis of free will asserts that some actions are not preceded by sufficient causal conditions” (47). Because Searle rightly rejects accounts of downward causation which claim causal powers at the higher levels not attributable to lower-level actualizations, he is driven to this dilemma: Either the neural events are deterministic and thus the seemingly free, non-deterministic, psychological events realized by them are deterministic and there is no real freedom, or the higher-level events really are non-deterministic and the neural events realizing them are non-deterministic as well. (Obviously, Searle has no time for compatibilism.) Since he rejects the first epiphenomenalist option because he believes it is incoherent and in violation of general evolutionary principles, he is driven to the controversial conclusion once argued by Penrose: Since the absence of causally sufficient conditions at the psychological level must be matched by the absence of such conditions at the neurophysiological level, indeterminism at the neuro-level is necessary for real first-person (psychological) freedom. The following syllogism thus holds (74-5):

1) All indeterminism in nature is quantum indeterminism.

2) Consciousness is a feature of nature that manifests indeterminism.

3) Thus, consciousness manifests quantum indeterminism.

As Searle points out, however, accepting (3) does not mean that the macro-psychological level is filled with randomness, for “randomness at the micro-level does not imply randomness at the systems level (76).” Searle acknowledges that this option is scarcely more satisfying than embracing epiphenomenalism.

The second essay asks this question: “How can there be political reality in a world of physical particles?” Searle begins by distinguishing between observer-dependent and observer-independent features. After granting that chemical bonds and gravitational attraction are observer-independent (ontologically objective), he assigns institutional features, such as property, marriage and language, to the category of the observer-dependent (ontologically subjective). He next distinguishes epistemic objectivity from epistemic subjectivity. A claim is epistemologically objective if and only if its truth or falsity is logically independent from the feelings, preferences and attitudes of the one making the claim. Given these distinctions, Searle can talk meaningfully about epistemologically objective, yet ontologically subjective features.

Searle argues that one gets from the social facts grounded in collective intentionality to institutional facts through the establishment of status functions and constitutive rules. What is needed for an institutional fact is that certain conditions are met that have this form: X counts as Y in context C. Certain features count as fact X not because of what they are intrinsically, but because there is a collective acceptance of their being properties or actions that would be an instance of X were they instantiated. Furthermore, Searle believes that it is possible that certain status functions are primitive; they do not presuppose a constitutive rule until they are regularlized. (Searle wants to escape the paradox of institutional facts presupposing constitutive rules that themselves presuppose institutional facts.) Moreover, for X to count as Y in context C presupposes that one can first represent X as being an instance of Y. But since representation presupposes language, there can be no institutional facts without language, for there can be no representation of such simple institutional facts as, ‘George Bush is President’ without language.

Searle finishes the essay with a number of claims about the logical and ontological status of political power and government. While it is not surprising to find Searle arguing that political power is linguistically constituted, some might find his final point problematic: “A monopoly on armed violence is a presupposition of government.”

Searle has succeeded in writing a very facile, succinct, and highly-readable book. What I like about Searle’s work is his dedication to thinking crucial questions through from a naturalistic perspective without simultaneously abandoning deep, widely-shared ontological intuitions. Starting with the existence of psychological states and social objects, the philosophical task is to provide an account which does not simply reduce or eliminate that which quite obviously is.

That being said, this book does not really succeed in pushing the technical discussion forward. Searle does not engage any current neuroscience. It is a straightforward philosophical text, and philosophically, there really are only so many moves to make on the chess board. Unfortunately, they have been around for quite a long time.

It is not really news to learn that nondeterminism is a necessary condition for rationality, and that since the instantiation of neurophysiological states and events is sufficient for the instantiation of psychological states and events, then since determinism at the neuro-level entails determinism at the psychological level, non-determinism at the psychological level entails non-determinism at the neuro-level. The only way out is to claim that the psychological qua psychological is capable of possessing causal power not realized at the neuro-level. But this robust emergentism comes dangerously close to dualism. (Robust downward causality reminds me now of the old vitalist/mechanist debate. One might think of “mental power” as analogous to the elan vital.) The other alternative is simply to claim that we can use the word ‘free’ meaningfully even though all of our deliberations and actions are composed of physical aggregates that themselves follow universal deterministic physical laws. But if the mental has no real causal powers, it could serve no adaptive purpose, so why did it ever evolve?

What is critically important for thinkers in the religion and science debate is to understand the very profound philosophical problems with downward causation, and thus to think deeply about what options remain. Searle’s proposal takes the possibility of quantum neural indeterminism as seriously as epiphenomenalism. This itself is of some note. (Of course, quantum indeterminacy does not a free choice make, but were God, to be involved in such indeterminacy, then the possibility of a coherent account is present.)

One can, of course, criticize Searle for not developing his arguments more or not providing full documentation on the issues, but this would be unfair. Freedom and Neurobiology is not an exhaustive tome, but a delightful read that quickly and adroitly gets to the central issue. What it perhaps most successfully teaches is this: The problem with the problem of freedom is how intractable that problem really is.