PHIL 315: MODERN PHILOSOPHY
James Fieser
#CHAPTER 1
RENAISSANCE AND EARLY MODERN PHILOSOPHY
The Renaissance was a European intellectual movement from around the 14th through the 16th centuries, which marked the close of the middle ages and the beginning of the modern period. “Renaissance” comes from the French word for rebirth and specifically signifies a rebirth of classical Greek culture. Originally “the Renaissance” referred to a rebirth of ancient Greek artistic style but later was expanded to encompass all cultural achievement of this time, including art, literature, philosophy, navigation, and science. This revived interest was in part the result of a rediscovery of lost Greek and Roman texts; interest was further propelled by the invention of the movable type printing press in 1450, which allowed for wide distribution of affordable books, both classical and modern. Although the Renaissance produced world-class artists, theologians, essayists, and scientists, the philosophers of this period did not approach the stature of Plato, Aristotle, Augustine, or Aquinas. However, several aspects of Renaissance thought were especially influential in the early modern period of philosophy that followed. These developments are traced in the following sections of this chapter: (a) humanism, (b) the reformation, (c) fideism and skepticism, (d) astronomy, (e) the scientific method, (f) selfishness vs. benevolence.
A. HUMANISM
Renaissance humanism was the philosophical view emphasizing human worth and secular studies in contrast with religious belief. Humanists consciously rejected medieval religious authority, returned to classical ideals, and maintained that the ideal person embodies all human excellences, including music, art, poetry, science, and virtue. These secular studies became known as the “humanities.” In spite of their emphasis on secular ideals, humanists were devout religious believers and only advocated those values that they thought consistent with Christianity. Founded by the Italian poet Petrarch (1304-1374), Renaissance humanism remained an Italian phenomenon for a century.
PICO’S “ORATION”
The best remembered humanist of the Italian Renaissance was Pico della Mirandola (1463-1494), an eclectic philosopher who drew from Greek, scholastic, Kabbalistic, and Arabic philosophical traditions. In 1486 he planned to publicly defend 900 propositions drawn from these various sources and for the occasion composed his Oration on Human Dignity (1480). However, the Pope declared 13 of the propositions heretical, and the public presentation was prohibited. Pico wrote an Apology in defense of the propositions and quickly fled to France. Under the protection of Lorenzo de’ Medici, he was brought back to Italy and became influential in Florence’s Platonic Academy. He was absolved of heresy by a new Pope in 1493, and died the next year at the early age of 31.
Common Explanations of Human Uniqueness. Pico opens his “Oration,” examining what specifically makes human beings so unique and remarkable. He considers several common explanations.
Reverend Fathers: In the writings of the Arabians, I have read that Abdula the Saralen was asked what on the “world’s stage,” as they say, is the most wondrous. He replied, “There is no greater wonder than humanity.” And Mercury agrees with this opinion: “A magnificent miracle is humanity!” (Asclepius 1:6). But I am dissatisfied when considering the reasons for these assertions [such as the following]. Man intermediates between all creatures, being familiar with the gods, yet rulers of inferior creatures. We interpret nature by the sharpness of our senses, the judgment of our reason, and the light of our intelligence. We are the moment between eternity’s permanence, and the passage of time. As the Persians say, we are the binding force, no, the marriage union of the world. According to David, we are “just a little beneath the angels” (Psalms 8:5). These reasons are great, but not the principal ones. That is, they do not possess the privilege of the highest admiration. For, why should we not have more admiration for the angels and the beautiful heavenly choirs? Ultimately, it seems to me, I now understand why man is the most fortunate of creatures, and worthy of complete admiration. I understand what their allotted position is in the great chain of being, which is a role envied by the animals, and the stars, and the minds beyond the world. It is something wonderful beyond faith. And why not? It is for this reason that man is justly deemed a great miracle, and truly wonderful creature. So, with receptive ears, Fathers, listen attentively to what I say.
(1) What are some of the stock reasons given for why human beings are so wondrous?
The Place of Humans in Creation. Pico continues by giving his own explanation of human greatness, which rests on our place in creation.
By the laws of his hidden wisdom, God the father and master architect built this worldly home which we observe, a most sacred temple of his divinity. The areas above the heavens he gave minds. He gave animated souls to the celestial spheres. He filled the dregs of the lower world with a variety of animals. But when finished, the architect wished that there would be someone to appreciate the work, to love its beauty, and marvel at its size. Thus, all other things finished, as Moses and Timaeus report, he finally considered creating man. But there was nothing in his archetypes from which he could form new progeny, nor anything in his supply house which he might bequeath to a new son, nor was there an empty chair in which this new being could sit and contemplate the world. All places were filled. Everything had been assigned in the highest, middle, and lowest orders. But in this last task, it was not part of the Father’s power to give up as though exhausted. It was not part of his wisdom to waver because of a lack of a clear plan. It was not part of his living kindness that he should be praised for his generosity to others, but condemned for lack of it on himself. Finally, the master architect declared that this creature, to whom nothing unique could be given, should be a composite, and have that which belonged exclusively to all other things.
(2) What problem did God run into when assigning humanity a spot in the great chain of being?
Thus, God took humanity, creatures of indeterminate form, placed them in a middle place in the world, and said the following: “I have given you, Adam, neither a fixed place nor a fixed form of your own. You may possess any place or any form as you desire. The laws ordained by me establish a limited nature for all other creatures. In accord with your free will, your destiny is in your own hands and you are confined to no bounds. You will fix the limits of your nature yourself. I have put you in the world’s center so that you may look around and examine the world’s content. I have made you neither heavenly nor earthly, neither mortal nor immortal. You may freely and honorably mold, make, and sculpt yourself into any shape you prefer. You can degenerate into the forms of the lower animals, or climb upward by your soul’s reason, to a higher nature which is divine.” What great generosity of God the Father! What great and wonderful happiness of humanity!
(3) What is Pico’s explanation for why human beings are such extraordinary creations?
ERASMUS’S IN PRAISE OF FOLLY
By 1500 humanism spread to Western Europe and found expression in the writings of Dutch monk Desiderius Erasmus (1466-1563), the greatest Renaissance humanist of any nationality. Pressured by his guardians, Erasmus joined a Catholic Augustinian monastery and was ordained in 1492. Eager to leave – although still bound by his vows – he held a brief diplomatic post, studied theology at Paris, and became rector of a college. While in Paris, he was introduced to humanistic thought, and later composed several progressive manuals for his students, the best known of these being his Familiar Colloquies. Desiring more freedom to study and write, he became a wandering scholar, tutoring and writing for his income. While visiting fellow humanist Thomas More in 1509, he composed In Praise of Folly (Encomium Moriae), his most famous and controversial work. In 1517 Erasmus was released from some of the constraints of his monastic vows, which allowed him greater freedom for travel and scholarship. He was sympathetic to the efforts of early reformers, who, in return, admired Erasmus’s own attacks on Catholic hypocrisy. Although at times he seemed to straddle the fence between Catholic and Protestant sympathies, he remained in good Catholic standing and in his final days there was talk of making him a Cardinal. True to the humanist spirit, Erasmus believed that some pagans, such as Socrates, might be saints: “Perhaps the spirit of Christ is more widespread than we understand.” This attitude is particularly present in In Praise of Folly. Modeled after Lucian’s classic Charon, the essay is written as an oratory delivered by the personification of Folly, in which Folly ironically praises foolish activities of the day. Included are attacks on superstitious religious practices, uncritical theories held by traditional scientists, and the vanity of Church leaders. Folly opens the essay explaining his plan.
If you ask me why I appear before you in this strange dress, please lend me your ears, and I’ll tell you. Don’t listen, though, as you do in church, but, instead, listen as you would to jugglers, fools, and clowns, just as our friend Midas once gave to Pan. For I’m willing to play the sophist with you for a while. However, I’m not the sort who nowadays fills young people’s heads with empty ideas and interesting tidbits yet teaches them nothing except an old nag’s way of arguing. Instead, I’ll imitate the ancients who chose to be called “sophists” rather than go by the disreputable name of “philosopher.” Their business was to celebrate and praise the gods as well as valiant people. And similar praises you will hear from me, but neither of Hercules nor Solon. Instead, I will praise my own dear self: Folly.
(4) What was the fundamental business of the Sophists?
Superstitions. Erasmus attacks superstitious folk beliefs in ghosts and goblins as well as Christian rituals involving prayers to the saints. One such superstition involved the sale of indulgence certificates by the Catholic church. An indulgence is a remission punishment for a sin which reduces the time which a person spends in purgatory. To raise money for lavish building projects, Popes authorized the sale of indulgence certificates which could remit punishment for either living people or the souls of the dead currently in purgatory.
Undoubtedly, Folly owns those people who love to hear or talk about imagined miracles and strange lies. They never tire of repeating such tales, so long as they are about ghosts, spirits, goblins, devils, or the like. The further they are from truth, the more quickly they are listened to by an audience’s itching ears. And these serve not only to pass away time but bring profit, especially to mass priests and indulgence.
And next to these are people who foolishly though happily believe that if they merely look at a wooden or painted stature of St. Christopher, they will not die that day. Or they believe that if they salute a carved St. Barbara in the usual set form, they will safely return from battle. Or still they believe that if call to St. Erasmus on certain days with some small wax candles and the proper prayers, they will quickly get rich.... Or what should I say about people who hug themselves with their counterfeit certificates pardoning them from sin [i.e. indulgences]? They have charted the time span of purgatory and can flawlessly demonstrate its ages, years, months, days, hours, minutes, and seconds. Or what about those people who put stake in magical charms and short prayers invented by a religious fraud? Perhaps for spiritual benefit or financial gain, these frauds promise everything: wealth, honor, pleasure, affluence, health, long life, and lively old age. Further, they promise that the believer will be right next to Christ in the afterlife – which they hope doesn’t happen too soon before the pleasures of this life have run out. ...
(5) What is particularly outrageous about those who purchase indulgences?
Why do I launch out into this ocean of superstitions? If I had a hundred tongues, just as many mouths, and a strong voice, I would still not be able to cover the various kinds of fools, or all the names of folly. They are everywhere! And yet your priests have no problem receiving and cherishing them as proper instruments of profit. Suppose, though, that a person of wisdom came forward to speak about the truth of things. For example, he might say that to live well is the way to die well; the best way to get rid of sin is not simply through monetary offering, but though tears, watchings, prayers, fastings, and improving life; a particular saint will favor you if you imitate his life. If a wise person would say these things to the people, what sort of misery would he lead them to from their current state happiness?
The Scientists. Erasmus continues satirizing an array of people and occupations, including peasants, poets, rhetoricians, and layers. He then turns to the arrogance and narrow-mindedness of natural scientists.
After the layers come our natural scientists. They are revered for their furred gowns and starched beards and view themselves as the only wise people and all others are mere shadows. How pleasantly do they admire themselves while framing innumerable words in their heads. With a pair of compasses, they measure out the sun, the moon, the stars, even the heaven itself. They establish the causes of lightning, winds, eclipses, and other inexplicable matter. And they do all this without the least doubting, as if they were nature’s secretaries, or dropped down among us from the council of the gods. In the meantime, nature laughs at them and all their blind conjectures. The mere fact that they don’t agree among themselves and so are incomprehensible in every subject is a sufficient argument to show that they know nothing.
Though they don’t have the least degree of knowledge, they claim to have mastered everything. Indeed, even though they don’t know themselves, and can’t perceive a ditch or rock in front of them (perhaps most of them are half blind, or they are half wits) they still maintain that they have discovered ideas, universal truths, separated forms, first principles, the essential nature of things, formalities, and the like things. They claim to have discovered things so thin and bodiless that I believe even Lynceus himself was not able to perceive them. Mostly, though, they ridicule the unholy crowd and they cast a mist before the eyes of the ignorant. This they do with their triangles, quadrangles, circles, and the like mathematical devices, more bewildering than a labyrinth, and letters piled on each other, as if battle arrangement. You’ll even find that some of these pretend to foretell things by the stars and promise miracles beyond all wonders. They are thus fortunate to meet people who believe them.
(6) Give one example of the foolishness of scientists, as noted by Erasmus.
Monks. Erasmus turns to members of his own vocation: those who have taken monastic vows.
Next are those that commonly call themselves “the religious” or “monks.” Both titles are quite false when most of them are far from religion, they, far from monastic, they can be seen everywhere. I can’t think of any life that could be more miserable than theirs, if I didn’t support them in so many ways. All people detest them to such extremes that they consider it bad luck to meet one of them by chance. Still, they think highly of themselves. First, they think that it is essential to piety to be illiterate, and, thus, they can’t read anything. Also, they run over their daily psalms and prayers which recite by repetition rather than through understanding. In doing so, they believe God is exceptionally pleased with their whinnying. Some, in fact, make a substantial living by begging as they go door to door for their food. Indeed, there is scarcely an inn, wagon, or ship which they don’t visit, and do much better than the typical beggar. Yet, with all this vileness, ignorance, rudeness, and impudence, like pleasant fellows they represent the lives of the apostles – for so they call it.
(7) Although monks take vows of poverty and many resort to begging for subsistence, what is particularly ironic about this?
Bishops, Cardinals, and Popes. Pulling no punches, Erasmus attacks the behavior of church leaders at the highest levels.
Bishops, Cardinals, and Popes have so diligently followed the lifestyle of princes, that they’ve almost beat them at their own game. Our bishops should consider what their vestments represent: a blameless life. Their forked miters hats, each point of which is held in by the same knot, represents a perfect knowledge of the Old and New Testaments. Their gloves represent a sincere administration of the Sacraments, free from all contact with worldly business. Their shepherd’s staff represents a dedication to the care of their flock. The cross carried before them in processions represents victory over all earthly affections. If he truly thought about these, and many others, he wouldn’t live a sad and troublesome life. However, they are principally concerned with feeding themselves. As to the care of their flock, they assign this task to either Christ himself, one their subordinates (“suffragans” as they call them), or to some poor church officer. They don’t even remember their own name, or what the word “bishop” signifies, that is, to labor, care, and trouble. But when it comes to gathering money, they certainly act the part of bishops and watch over everything.
(8) What is the Bishop’s staff supposed to represent?
In like manner if cardinals thought of themselves as successors of the apostles, they would likewise imagine that the same things the apostles did are required of them too. Thus, they are not lords of spiritual matters, but dispensers of such things, to which they must shortly give an exact account. They should also reflect on their vestments and consider their meanings. The upper white garment signifies the remarkable and singular integrity of life. The inner purple signifies an earnest and fervent love of God. And consider the outward garment whose loose folds and long train fall round his Reverence’s shoes and are large enough to cover a camel. This signifies the charity that spreads to the nourishment of all people and functions to instruct, exhort, comfort, reprehend, admonish, compose wars, resist wicked princes, and willingly expend not only their wealth but their very lives for the flock of Christ. And what do needy apostles want with all the money that fills the room? If they would duly consider these things, they would not be so ambitious of to have their jobs. Or, if they were, they would willingly live a laborious, and careful life, as did the ancient apostles.
(9) What is the Cardinal’s large outer garment supposed to represent?
And for Popes who take the place of Christ, they should try to imitate Christ’s life, specifically his poverty, labor, doctrine, cross, and contempt of life. They should also consider that the name “pope” means “father, and reflect on the title “holiness.” They would then live more humble than others. Who then would purchase that chair with all his wealth? Who would defend it, so purchased, with swords, poisons, and all force imaginable? Acquiring wisdom would deprive him of this profit. Wisdom did I say? No! The least grain of that salt of which Christ speaks would have them lose it all, specifically their wealth, honor, riches, victories, offices, dispensations, tribute, and indulgences. They would lose many horses, mules, guards, and much pleasure.
(10) In which ways should the Pope imitate the life of Christ?
MORE’S UTOPIA.
A dominant theme in humanist writings was the Christianizing of Epicureanism – much the way Augustine Christianized Plato, and Aquinas Christianized Aristotle. Erasmus, for example, argued that the Christian virtues are actually Epicurean since the Christian is to have a life full of true pleasure. One of the clearest expressions of humanistic Epicureanism is given by English statesman Thomas More (1478-1535). In his famous Utopia (1516), literally “no place,” More describes an ideal island containing a society founded on reason. The work has been variously interpreted as a satire on the evils of his times, a dream world for scholars, or a forecast of communism.
The Island of Utopia. More opens Utopia with a geographical description of this perfect island and an account of their social customs.
The island of Utopia is in the middle 200 miles broad, and holds almost at the same breadth over a great part of it; but it grows narrower toward both ends. ... Utopus that conquered it (whose name it still carries, for Abraxa was its first name) brought the rude and uncivilized inhabitants into such a good government, and to that measure of politeness, that they now far excel all the rest of mankind. ... There are fifty-four cities in the island, all large and well built: the manners, customs, and laws of which are the same, and they are all contrived as near in the same manner as the ground on which they stand will allow. They have built over all the country, farmhouses for husbandmen, which are well contrived, and are furnished with all things necessary for country labor. Inhabitants are sent by turns from the cities to dwell in them. No country family has fewer than forty men and women in it, besides two slaves. There is a master and a mistress set over every family; and over thirty families there is a magistrate. ... Agriculture is that which is so universally understood among them that no person, either man or woman, is ignorant of it. They are instructed in it from their childhood, partly by what they learn at school and partly by practice... Besides agriculture, which is so common to them all, every man has some peculiar trade to which he applies himself, such as the manufacture of wool, or flax, masonry, smith’s work, or carpenter’s work; for there is no sort of trade that is not in great esteem among them. Throughout the island they wear the same sort of clothes without any other distinction, except what is necessary to distinguish the two sexes, and the married and unmarried. The fashion never alters. And as it is neither disagreeable nor uneasy, so it is suited to the climate, and calculated both for their summers and winters.
(11) What is the makeup of the “country family”?
Happiness, Pleasure, and Religion. More continues running through all the social institutions of the Utopian people. He then describes their various schools of philosophy, giving particular emphasis to the one with Epicurean elements.
As to moral philosophy, they have the same disputes among them as we have here. They examine what are properly good both for the body and the mind, and whether any outward thing can be called truly good, or if that term belong only to the endowments of the soul. They inquire likewise into the nature of virtue and pleasure. But their chief dispute is concerning the happiness of a human, and wherein it consists. Whether in some one thing, or in a great many? They seem, indeed, more inclinable to that opinion that places, if not the whole, yet the chief part of a person’s happiness in pleasure. And, what may seem more strange, they make use of arguments even from religion, notwithstanding its severity and roughness, for the support of that opinion so indulgent to pleasure. For they never dispute concerning happiness without fetching some arguments from the principles of religion, as well as from natural reason, since without the former they reckon that all our inquiries after happiness must be but conjectural and defective.
(12) For More, what constitutes the chief point of human happiness?
More briefly discusses the Utopian religious beliefs and the rational foundation of hedonism.
These are their religious principles, that the soul of man is immortal, and that God of his goodness has designed that it should be happy; and that he has therefore appointed rewards for good and virtuous actions, and punishments for vice, to be distributed after this life. Though these principles of religion are conveyed down among them by tradition, they think that even reason itself determines a man to believe and acknowledge them, and freely confess that if these were taken away no person would be so insensible as not to seek after pleasure by all possible means, lawful or unlawful. [They say this] using only this caution, that a lesser pleasure might not stand in the way of a greater, and that no pleasure ought to be pursued that should draw a great deal of pain after it. For they think it the maddest thing in the world to pursue virtue, that is a sour and difficult thing; and not only to renounce the pleasures of life, but willingly to undergo much pain and trouble, if a man has no prospect of a reward. And what reward can there be for one that has passed his whole life, not only without pleasure, but in pain, if there is nothing to be expected after death? Yet they do not place happiness in all sorts of pleasures, but only in those that in themselves are good and honest.
(13) More argues that pursuing a life without pleasure makes no sense. Suppose that we shun pleasure in this life in hopes of a future reward. More asks rhetorically “what reward can there be?” What is his point?
Advancing Pleasure for Others. According to More, the pleasure we pursue is not simply for ourselves, but for others.
There is a party among them who place happiness in bare virtue; others think that our natures are conducted by virtue to happiness, as that which is the chief good of man. They define virtue thus, that it is a living according to nature, and think that we are made by God for that end. They believe that a person then follows the dictates of nature when he pursues or avoids things according to the direction of reason. They say that the first dictate of reason is the kindling in us of a love and reverence for the Divine Majesty, to whom we owe both all that we have and all that we can ever hope for. In the next place, reason directs us to keep our minds as free from passion and as cheerful as we can, and that we should consider ourselves as bound by the ties of good-nature and humanity to use our utmost endeavors to help forward the happiness of all other persons. For there never was any person such a morose and severe pursuer of virtue (such an enemy to pleasure, that though he set hard rules for people to undergo much pain, many watchings, and other rigors) yet did not at the same time advise them to do all they could, in order to relieve and ease the miserable, and who did not represent gentleness and good-nature as amiable dispositions. And from thence they infer that if a man ought to advance the welfare and comfort of the rest of mankind, there being no virtue more proper and peculiar to our nature, than to ease the miseries of others, to free from trouble and anxiety, in furnishing them with the comforts of life, in which pleasure consists, nature much more vigorously leads them to do all this for himself.
(14) More describes one Utopian philosophical school which emphasizes “living according to nature.” What are the two “dictates of reason” concerning this?
Although we are to secure pleasure for others, we do this by beginning with ourselves.
A life of pleasure is either a real evil, and in that case we ought not to assist others in their pursuit of it, but on the contrary, to keep them from it all we can, as from that which is most hurtful and deadly; or if it is a good thing, so that we not only may, but ought to help others to it, why, then, ought not a man to begin with himself? Since no man can be more bound to look after the good of another than after his own. For nature cannot direct us to be good and kind to others, and yet at the same time to be unmerciful and cruel to ourselves. Thus, as they define virtue to be living according to nature, so they imagine that nature prompts all people on to seek after pleasure, as the end of all they do. They also observe that in order to our supporting the pleasures of life, nature inclines us to enter into society; for there is no man so much raised above the rest of mankind as to be the only favorite of nature who, on the contrary, seems to have placed on a level all those that belong to the same species. Upon this they infer that no man ought to seek his own conveniences so eagerly as to prejudice others. And therefore they think that not only all agreements between private persons ought to be observed, but likewise that all those laws ought to be kept (which either a good prince has published in due form, or to which a people that is neither oppressed with tyranny nor circumvented by fraud, has consented, for distributing those conveniences of life which afford us all our pleasures).
(15) According to this school of Utopians, why shouldn’t we seek out our conveniences at the prejudice (or expense) of others?
They think it is an evidence of true wisdom for a man to pursue his own advantages as far as the laws allow it. They account it piety to prefer the public good to one’s private concerns. But they think it unjust for a person to seek for pleasure by snatching another person’s pleasures from him. And on the contrary, they think it a sign of a gentle and good soul, for a man to dispense with his own advantage for the good of others; and that by this means a good man finds as much pleasure one way as he parts with another. For as he may expect the like from others when he may come to need it, so if that should fail him, yet the sense of a good action, and the reflections that he makes on the love and gratitude of those whom he has so obliged, gives the mind more pleasure than the body could have found in that from which it had restrained itself. They are also persuaded that God will make up the loss of those small pleasures, with a vast and endless joy, of which religion easily convinces a good soul.
(16) According to this school of Utopians, what consolations do we have when our bodily pleasures are minimal?
Types of Pleasure. More distinguishes between bodily pleasures and mental pleasures – a distinction which is central to 19th century philosopher J.S. Mill in his Utilitarianism.
Thus, upon an inquiry into the whole matter, they reckon that all our actions, and even all our virtues, terminate in pleasure as our chief end and greatest happiness. They call every motion or state a pleasure (either of body or mind) in which nature. Thus they cautiously limit pleasure to those appetites which nature leads us to. For, they say that nature leads us only to those delights to which reason as well as sense carries us, and by which we neither injure any other person nor lose the possession of greater pleasures, and of such as draw no troubles after them. But they view those delights which men by a foolish though common mistake call pleasure, as if they could change as easily the nature of things as the use of words; as things that greatly obstruct their real happiness instead of advancing it, because they so entirely possess the minds of those that are once captivated by them with a false notion of pleasure, that there is no room left for pleasures of a truer or purer kind
(17) What is More’s attitude about bodily pleasures?
More continues by satirizing those who derive an artificial pleasure from luxuries or misguided etiquette.
There are many things that in themselves have nothing that is truly delightful. On the contrary, they have a good deal of bitterness in them. And yet from our perverse appetites after forbidden objects, [these] are not only ranked among the pleasures, but are made even the greatest designs of life. Among those who pursue these sophisticated pleasures, they reckon such as I mentioned before, who think themselves really the better for having fine clothes; in which they think they are doubly mistaken, both in the opinion that they have of their clothes, and in that they have of themselves. For if you consider the use of clothes, why should a fine thread be thought better than a coarse one? And yet these men, as if they had some real advantages beyond others, and did not owe them wholly to their mistakes, look big, seem to fancy themselves to be more valuable, and imagine that a respect is due to them for the sake of a rich garment, to which they would not have pretended if they had been more meanly clothed. And [these people] even resent it as an affront, if that respect is not paid them. It is also a great folly to be taken with outward marks of respect, which signify nothing. For what true or real pleasure can one man find in another’s standing bare, or making legs to him? Will the bending another man’s knees give ease to yours? And will the head’s being bare cure the madness of yours? And yet it is wonderful to see how this false notion of pleasure bewitches many who delight themselves with the fancy of their nobility, and are pleased with this conceit, that they are descended from ancestors who have been held for some successions rich, and who have had great possessions; for this is all that makes nobility at present; yet they do not think themselves a whit the less noble, though their immediate parents have left none of this wealth to them, or though they themselves have squandered it away.
(18) What are some rules of etiquette that More finds groundless?
B. THE REFORMATION
The Protestant Reformation was born on October 31, 1517 when German priest Martin Luther (1483-1546) nailed a revolutionary document to the door of Wittenberg Castle. The situation was ripe in the surrounding German states to revolt in mass against both the religious and political domination of the Catholic church. Several factors in the centuries preceding the reformation contributed to its realization. Early less successful attempts at reform by John Wycliffe (d. 1384) and John Hus (d. 1415) provided a starting point for voicing discontent. Renaissance mystics such as Meister Eckhardt (d. 1327) and Thomas a Kempis (d. 1471) reacted against the dogmas of rationalistic scholastic theology and offered a more inward and personalized approach to religious truth. Renaissance humanism challenged the ill-gotten power of Church leaders, ridiculed superstitious religious practices, and emphasized the spiritual significance behind religious rituals. Finally, Papal interference in European politics set Germany’s political leaders against the entire institution of Catholicism.
LUTHER’S APPEAL
As a young man Luther intended to go into law, but after a frightening experience during a thunderstorm he became an Augustinian monk. Luther had inward struggles about religious hypocrisy and what was necessary to become righteous. In time he became professor of theology at the University of Wittenberg, in Saxony, where he had a religious experience in the tower room of the Augustinian Friary. Studying Romans 1:17, “The just shall live by faith” Luther was persuaded that God’s forgiveness comes through faith alone. Like Erasmus, Luther was also bothered by the sale of indulgences, which was on the rise to pay for the rebuilding of St. Peter’s Basilica. He was particularly offended by Johann Tetzel, an indulgence peddler who came to the borders of Saxony. Local churches competed by offering similar opportunities for remitting divine punishment. Wittenberg Castle Church itself contained 18,000 relics, collected by Frederic of Saxony, which, viewed for a fee, could shorten one’s stay in purgatory by as many as 2,000,000 years. Included among the relics were a baby slain by Herod’s soldiers, a twig from Moses’ burning bush, pieces of Mary’s girdle, feathers dropped by angels, and a tear shed by Jesus. In protest to all these practices, Luther nailed a document containing 95 theses to the door of Wittenberg Castle (which functioned as a public bulletin board). Among the propositions, Luther maintained that God gives full remission of punishment and guilt to all who ask; indulgences are fraudulent, and foster deceit, immorality, skepticism and irreverence; if the Pope cared for people, he would empty purgatory out of love, not for money. Luther was excommunicated by the Pope, but he quickly became a folk hero. To gain support for his proposed reforms, he published his Appeal to the German Nobility (1520) which urged the nobility to correct the abuses of the Church.
(1) Name three practices Luther objected to.
The Three Walls. In the Appeal Luther argues that the Roman Catholic Church has three walls to protect itself against criticism. The first wall is that, when pushed by temporal (or earthly) powers, they claim to have spiritual power over temporal powers. Luther contends that all people in the “spiritual estate” have equal power. That is, there is a priesthood of all believers, and there are no special spiritual rights of the clergy. Temporal powers have been ordained by God to punish the bad, even if it involves members of the spiritual estate. The second protective wall set up by the Catholic Church is that, when criticized by scripture, it claims that only the Church can interpret the scriptures. Luther argues that, as priests, we all have the power to interpret scripture.
The second wall is even more tottering and weak. It is that they alone pretend to be masters of the Scriptures. They do this even though they learn nothing of the Scriptures their entire lives. They assume authority, and juggle before us with insolent words, saying that the Pope cannot err in matters of faith, whether he is evil or good. Nevertheless, they cannot prove this by a single letter. That is why the canon law contains so many heretical and unchristian – no, unnatural – laws. But of these we need not speak now. For whereas they imagine that the Holy Ghost never leaves them, however unlearned and wicked they may be, they grow bold enough to decree whatever they like. But if this was true, what would the need be of the Holy Scriptures? Let us burn them, and content ourselves with the unlearned gentlemen at Rome, in whom the Holy Ghost dwells! However, on the contrary, the Holy Ghost can dwell only in pious souls. If I had not read their claims, I’d never have believed that the devil would put forth such follies at Rome and find a following.
(2) As understood by Luther, Catholic doctrine maintains that the Holy Ghost dwells in the Pope when he speaks unerringly on matters of faith. For Luther, in what kind of people does the Holy Ghost dwell?
The Catholic Church needs to acknowledge that there are pious Christians among us that have the true faith, spirit, understanding, word, and mind of Christ. Why, then, should we reject their word and understanding and follow a pope who has neither understanding nor spirit? Surely this is to deny our whole faith and the Christian Church. Moreover, if the article of our faith is right, “I believe in the holy Christian Church,” the Pope cannot alone be right. Otherwise, we must say, “I believe in the Pope of Rome,” and reduce the Christian Church to one person, which is a devilish and damnable heresy. Besides that, we are all priests, as I have said, and have all one faith, one Gospel, one Sacrament. How then should we not have the power of discerning and judging what is right or wrong in matters of faith?
The third wall discussed by Luther is that when the church is threatened by those who wish to call a Church council to resolve problems, the Church claims that no one can call a council but the Pope. Luther responds noting that we are permitted to punish the Pope if he goes wrong since Jesus tells us to “tell it to the Church.”
Against Aristotle. Luther continues in his appeal by listing several points of church doctrine which need reform. He then notes that further reform is needed in other areas of society, including university curriculum. In particular, he criticizes the heavy reliance on Aristotle’s teaching in universities.
The universities also require a good, sound reformation. I must say this, let it bother whom it may. The fact is that whatever the papacy has ordered or instituted is only designed for the propagation of sin and error. What is the present state of universities, but, as the book of Maccabees says, “schools of ‘Greek fashion’ and ‘heathenish manners’” (2 Macc. 4:12-13)? They are full of dissolute living, where very little is taught of the Holy Scriptures and of the Christian faith, and the blind heathen teacher, Aristotle, rules even more than Christ. My advice is that the books of Aristotle, the Physics, the Metaphysics, On the Soul, and the Ethics, which have up till the present been considered the best, be altogether abolished along with all others that claim to examine nature, though nothing can be learned from them, either of natural or spiritual things. Besides, no one has been able to understand his meaning, and much time has been wasted and many noble souls bothered with much useless labor, study, and expense. I venture to say that any potter has more knowledge of natural things than is to be found in these books. My heart is saddened to see how many of the best Christians have been fooled and led astray by the false words of this cursed, proud, and dishonest heathen. God sent him as a plague for our sins.
Doesn’t the wretched man in his best book, On the Soul, teach that the soul dies with the body, though many have tried to save him with vain words? It is as if we didn’t have the Holy Scriptures to teach us everything completely of which Aristotle had not the slightest perception. Yet this dead heathen has conquered, and has hindered and almost suppressed the books of the living God. Thus, when I see all this misery, I cannot help but think that the evil spirit has introduced this study.
(3) What problem does Luther find with Aristotle’s book, On the Soul?
Then there is the Ethics, which is accounted one of the best, though no book is more directly contrary to God’s will and the Christian virtues. Oh that such books could be kept out of the reach of all Christians! Let no one object that I say too much, or speak without knowledge. My friend, I know what I’m talking about. I know Aristotle as well as you or people like you. I have read him with more understanding than St. Thomas or Scotus, which I may say without arrogance, and can prove this if I need to. It doesn’t matter that so many great minds have exercised themselves in these topics for hundreds of years. Such objections do not affect me as they might have done once, since it is plain as day that many more errors have existed for hundreds of years in the world and the universities.
(4) What problem does Luther find with Aristotle’s book, The Ethics?
I would, however, gladly consent that Aristotle’s books on Logic, Rhetoric, and Poetics, should be retained, or they might be usefully studied in a condensed form so that young people can practice speaking and preaching. But the notes and comments should be eliminated. Just as Cicero’s Rhetoric is read without note or comment, Aristotle’s Logic should be read without such long commentaries. But now neither speaking nor preaching is taught out of them, and they are used only for argumentation and toil.
(5) What purpose should Aristotle’s Logic, Rhetoric, and Poetics serve?
CALVIN’S INSTITUTES
John Calvin (1509-1564) was a French theologian and early Protestant reformer. He was raised Catholic, studied theology and law in Paris, and in his early years followed the intellectual path of Renaissance humanism. By 1534 Calvin allied himself with the reformation movement and quickly became influential among French reformers. For safety, he left Paris, and eventually moved to Geneva, Switzerland where, after a shaky start, he established a strict, almost theocratic local government. One of his laws, for example, prohibited any labor on Sunday – including stoking one’s fireplace in winter. He soon became the leader of the Reformation in Switzerland (Presbyterianism) and in France (Huguenotism). Calvin authored several theological works, the most important of which is The Institutes of the Christian Religion. First published in 1536, the Institutes went through several revisions and by the final edition of 1559 was four times the original length. The work is in four books, following the succession of doctrines in the Apostle’s Creed: (1) God the creator, and our knowledge of him; (2) God the redeemer, through Christ’s atoning sacrifice, (3) the holy spirit who leads us to faith, and (4) the church, which is God’s instrument to assist us in our weakness. Fifty years after Calvin’s death, followers of Calvin presented his theology in five points, known as the “five points of Calvinism.” They are, (1) total depravity: humanity’s complete nature is innately corrupted; (2) unconditional election: God predestines some to salvation; (3) limited atonement: salvation is restricted to those elected; (4) irresistible grace: the elect must accept God’s favor; (5) perseverance of the saints: God sustains the elect in spite of their weakness.
Christian Philosophy. In addition to being a theological treatise, Calvin’s Institutes offer a “Christian philosophy” intended to replace both classical and scholastic philosophy.
Although the holy scriptures contain a perfect doctrine to which nothing can be added ... still every person, not intimately acquainted with them, stands in need of some guidance and direction. Such guidance informs him as to what he ought to look for in the scriptures, so that he may not wander up and down, but pursue a certain path, and attain the end to which the Holy Spirit invites him.
Hence it is the duty of those who have received from God more light than others to assist the simple in this matter, and, as it were, lend them their hand to guide and assist them in finding the sum of what God has been pleased to teach us in his word. Now, this cannot be better done in writing than by treating in succession of the principal matters which are comprised in Christian philosophy. For he who understands these will make more progress in the school of God in one day than any other person in three months. This, of course, assumes that he knows to what he should refer each sentence, and has a rule by which to test whatever is presented to him. [Institutes, Preface to French edition of 1545]
(6) In presenting his “Christian philosophy,” for whom is he writing: those who have received more light from God, or those who have received less light from God?
Sense of Divinity. Calvin argues that each person is born with a sense of divinity (sensus divinitatis), that is, an instinctive knowledge of God. This knowledge, he argues, escapes no one.
1. We hold to be beyond dispute that there exists in the human minds and indeed by natural instinct, some sense of divinity. This is so since, to prevent any person from pretending ignorance, God himself has given all people some idea of his Godhead. He constantly renews and occasionally enlarges our memory of this. Thus, being aware that there is a God, and that he is their Maker, people may be condemned by their own conscience when they neither worship him nor consecrate their lives to God’s service. Certainly, if there is any quarter where it may be supposed that God is unknown, the most likely for such an instance to exist is among the dullest tribes farthest removed from civilization. But, as a heathen writer tells us, there is no nation so barbarous, no race so brutish, as not to be endowed with the conviction that there is a God. Even those who in other respects seem to differ very little from the lower animals, constantly retain some sense of religion. This common conviction is thoroughly possessed in the mind and firmly stamped on the breasts of all people. Since, then, there never has been, from the very first, any quarter of the globe, any city, any household even, without religion, this amounts to a tacit confession, that a sense of divinity is inscribed on every heart. No, even idolatry is ample evidence of this fact. For we know how reluctant humans are to lower themselves, in order to set other creatures above them. Therefore, when he chooses to worship wood and stone rather than be thought to have no God, it is evident how very strong this impression of a Deity must be. For, it is more difficult to obliterate it from the minds of people, than to break down the feelings of his nature. These feelings are certainly being broken down, though, when, in opposition to his natural haughtiness, he spontaneously humbles himself before the meanest object as an act of reverence to God.
(7) How is the sense of divinity reflected in “heathen” religious belief?
2. It is most absurd, therefore, to maintain, as some do, that religion was devised by the cunning and craft of a few individuals. Supposedly, these cunning individuals did this as a means of keeping the body of the people in due subjection; and, while teaching others to worship God, they themselves could not have believed less in the existence of God. I readily acknowledge, that cunning people have introduced a vast number of fictions into religion, with the view of inspiring the populace with reverence or striking them with terror, and thereby rendering them more submissive. But they never could have succeeded in this, had the minds of men not been previously imbued with that uniform belief in God, from which, as from its seed, the religious propensity springs. ...
(8) Some argue that religion was invented by clever politicians. How does this theory presuppose the sense of divinity?
3. All people of sound judgment will therefore hold that a sense of divinity is permanently etched on the human heart. This belief is naturally brought out in all, and thoroughly fixed as it were in our very bones. This is strikingly attested by the insubordination of the wicked, who, though they struggle furiously, are unable to untangle themselves from the fear of God. Though Diagoras, and others of like minds, make themselves merry with whatever has been believed in all ages concerning religion, and Dionysus scoffs at the judgment of heaven, it is only a cynical grin. For, the worm of conscience, keener than burning steel, is gnawing them within. ... It follows that this is not a doctrine which is first learned at school, but one as to which every man is his own master, from birth. One which nature herself allows no individual to forget, though many, with all their might, strive to do so. Moreover, all are born and live for the express purpose of learning to know God; and if the knowledge of God fails to fulfill this purpose, then it is fleeting and vain. Thus, it is clear that all those who do not direct the whole thoughts and actions of their lives to this end fail to fulfill the law of their being. This did not escape the observation even of philosophers. For it is exactly what Plato meant in the Phaedrus and the Theatetus when he taught (as he often does) that the chief good of the soul consists in resemblance to God. That is, the soul resembles God when, by means of knowing him, it is completely transformed into God. ... [Institutes, Book I, Ch. 3, Sect. 1-3]
(9) What is the purpose of our lives?
The Soul: Consciousness of Ethics. In describing the nature of humans, Calvin examines the soul. He begins by arguing that the soul is made of an immaterial substance, and it is wrong to reduce the soul to bodily activities as some philosophers do. An important aspect of our soul is a consciousness of ethics, or righteousness.
6. It is pointless to seek a definition of the soul from philosophers, not one of whom, with the exception of Plato, distinctly maintained its immortality. Others of the school of Socrates, indeed, lean the same way, but still without teaching distinctly a doctrine of which they were not fully persuaded. Plato, however, advanced still further, and regarded the soul as an image of God. Others so attach its powers and faculties to the present life, that they leave nothing external to the body. It was already shown from Scripture that the substance of the soul is incorporeal. We must now add that, though it is not properly enclosed by space, it however occupies the body as a kind of habitation. It not only animates all its parts, and makes the organs fit and useful for their actions, but it also holds the first place in regulating the conduct. It does this not merely in regard to the function of a terrestrial life, but also in regard to the service of God. This, though not clearly seen in our corrupt state, yet the impress of its remains is seen in our very vices. From what source do humans have such a thirst for glory but from a sense of shame? And what is the source of this sense of shame but from a respect for what is honorable? Of this, the first principle and source is a consciousness that they were born to cultivate righteousness, – a consciousness akin to religion. But as people were undoubtedly created to meditate on the heavenly life, so it is certain that the knowledge of it was etched on the soul. And, indeed, people would lack the principal use of their understanding if they were not able to discern their happiness, the perfection of which consists in being united to God. Hence, the principal action of the soul is to aspire to that higher level, and, accordingly, the more a person studies to approach God, the more he proves himself to be endued with reason.
(10) One aspect of our soul is to provide us with a consciousness of ethics, or righteousness. For Calvin, what does the perfection of our happiness consist in?
The Parts of the Soul. Calvin criticizes those who say that the soul must have several parts since it is often at odds with itself.
There is some plausibility in the opinion of those who maintain that humans have more than one soul, namely, a sentient and a rational. However, if there is no soundness in their arguments, we must reject their views, unless we would torment ourselves with things frivolous and useless. They tell us, there is a great repugnance between organic movements and the rational part of the soul. They say this as if reason also were not at variance with herself, and her counsels sometimes conflicting with each other like hostile armies. But since this disorder results from the depravation of nature, it is erroneous to infer that there are two souls, because the faculties do not accord so harmoniously as they ought.
(11) According to Calvin, why can’t we infer that there are different parts of the soul, based on its internal inconsistencies?
But I leave it to philosophers to discourse more subtilely of these faculties. For the edification of the pious, a simple definition will be sufficient. I admit, indeed, that what they ingeniously teach on the subject is true, and not only pleasant, but also useful to be known. Nor do I forbid any who are inclined to pursue the study. First, I admit that there are five senses, which Plato (in Theaeteto) prefers calling organs, by which all objects are brought into a common sensorium, as into a kind of receptacle. Next comes the imagination or the fancy, (phantasia) which distinguishes between the objects brought into the sensorium. Next there is reason, to which the general power of judgment belongs. And, lastly, there is intellect, which contemplates with fixed and quiet look whatever reason discursively revolves. In like manner, to intellect, fancy, and reason, the three cognitive faculties of the soul, correspond three appetite faculties. There is the will, whose office is to choose whatever reason and intellect propound. Next are the irascible (quick-tempered) appetites which seize on what is set before it by reason and fancy. Finally there is the concupiscible (even-tempered) appetites which lay hold of the objects presented by sense and fancy.
(12) Tentatively following Plato, Calvin divides the soul into three initial divisions: the senses, the cognitive faculties, and the appetitive faculties. What are the three cognitive faculties?
(13) What are the three appetitive faculties?
Calvin recognizes, though, that there are other possible divisions of the faculties.
Though these things are true, or at least plausible, still (as I fear they are more fitted to entangle by their obscurity than to assist us) I think it best to omit them. If anyone chooses to distribute the powers of the mind in a different manner, calling one appetitive, which, though devoid of reason, yet obeys reason, if directed from a different quarter, and another intellectual, as being by itself participant of reason, I have no great objection. Nor am I disposed to quarrel with the view, that there are three principles of action, viz., sense, intellect, and appetite. But let us rather adopt a division adapted to all capacities – a thing which certainly is not to be obtained from philosophers. For they, when they would speak most plainly, divide the soul into appetite and intellect, but make both double. To the latter they sometimes give the name of contemplative, as being contented with mere knowledge and having no active powers (which circumstance makes Cicero designate it by the name of intellect, ingenii; De Fin. Book 5.) At other times they give it the name of practical, because it variously moves the will by the apprehension of good or evil. Under this class is included the art of living well and justly. The former viz., appetite, they divide into will and concupiscence, calling it “boulesis”, so whenever the appetite, which they call “horme”, obeys the reason. But when appetite, casting off the yoke of reason, runs to intemperance, they call it “pathos”. Thus they always presuppose in man a reason by which he is able to guide himself aright.
Intellect and the Will. Calvin next revises his division of the soul’s faculties. Now he sees the initial division between intellect and the will.
7. We are forced somewhat to dissent from the method of teaching of the philosophers. For philosophers, being unacquainted with the corruption of nature, which is the punishment of revolt, erroneously confound two states of human which are very different from each other. Let us therefore hold, for the purpose of the present work, that the soul consists of two parts, the intellect and the will, (Book 2 chap. 2 sec. 2, 12) - the office of the intellect being to distinguish between objects, according as they seem deserving of being approved or disapproved; and the office of the will, to choose and follow what the intellect declares to be good, to reject and shun what it declares to be bad (Plato, in the Phaedrus). We dwell not on the subtlety of Aristotle, that the mind has no motion of itself; but that the moving power is choice, which he also terms the appetite intellect. Not to lose ourselves in superfluous questions, let it be enough to know that the intellect is to us, as it were, the guide and ruler of the soul. The will always follows its beck, and waits for its decision, in matters of desire.
(14) What is the relation between the intellect and the will?
For this reason Aristotle truly taught, that in the appetite there is a pursuit and rejection corresponding in some degree to affirmation and negation in the intellect, (Aristotle, Ethics, Book 6, Sec. 2.) Moreover, it will be seen in another place, (Book 2, Chap. 2, see. 12-26,) how surely the intellect governs the will. Here we only wish to observe, that the soul only possesses those faculties which may are duly referred to one or other of these members. And in this way we comprehend sense under intellect. Others distinguish thus: They say that sense inclines to pleasure in the same way as the intellect to good; that hence the appetite of sense becomes concupiscence and lust, while the affection of the intellect becomes will. For the term appetite, which they prefer, I use that of will, as being more common.
Human Faculties Before and After the Fall. Calvin contends that we must understand our present human nature by seeing what it became after the fall of Adam, not by considering what it was like in its original and perfect state.
8. Therefore, God has provided the human soul with intellect, by which he might distinguish good from evil, just from unjust, and might know what to follow or to shun, reason going before with her lamp. For this reason, philosophers, in reference to her directing power, have called her “to hegemonikon”. To this he has joined will, to which choice belongs. People excelled in these noble endowments in his primitive condition [i.e. before the fall of Adam]. At that time, reason, intelligence, prudence, and judgment, not only sufficed for the government of his earthly life, but also enabled him to rise up to God and eternal happiness. Thereafter choice was added to direct the appetites, and temper all the organic motions. The will was thus perfectly submissive to the authority of reason. In this upright state, human nature possessed freedom of will, by which, if he chose, he was able to obtain eternal life.
(15) What was the state of the human will before the fall?
It is unreasonable to introduce here the question concerning the secret predestination of God, because we are not considering what might or might not happen, but what human nature truly was. Adam, therefore, might have stayed in this original state if he chose, since it was only by his own will that he fell. But it was because his will was pliable in either direction (and he had not received constancy to keep going) that he so easily fell. Still he had a free choice of good and evil. And not only so, but in the mind and will there was the highest integrity, and all the organic parts were duly framed to obedience, until humans corrupted its good properties, and destroyed himself. Hence we see the great darkness of philosophers who looked for a complete building within a the rubble of ruins, and fit arrangement in disorder. The principle they set out with was that people could not be rational animals unless they had a free choice of good and evil. They also imagined that the distinction between virtue and vice was destroyed, if man did not of his own counsel arrange his life. So far well, had there been no change in human nature. This being unknown to them, it is not surprising that they throw everything into confusion.
(16) Ignorant of the fall of humans, what do classical philosophers say about our present human nature with respect to reason, free will, and morality?
However, some, while they profess to be the disciples of Christ, still seek for free-will in human nature, notwithstanding that humans are lost and drowned in spiritual destruction, labor in various delusions. This approach makes for a heterogeneous mixture of inspired doctrine and philosophical opinions, and so erring as to both. But it will be better to leave these things to their own place, (see Book 2 chap. 2). At present it is necessary only to remember, that human nature, at its first creation, was very different from what it has become. It derives its origin from its later state, after it became corrupted, and received a hereditary taint. At first every part of the soul was formed to decency. There was soundness of mind and freedom of will to choose the good.
(17) What aspect of human will became tainted at the fall?
Calvin next addresses the claim that humanity fell because God didn’t give the first humans a strong enough will in the first place.
If anyone objects that it was placed, as it were, in a slippery position, because its power was weak, I answer, that the degree conferred was sufficient to take away every excuse. For surely the Deity could not be tied down to this condition, - to make humans such that they either could not or would not sin. Such a nature might have been more excellent. But to expostulate with God as if he had been bound to confer this nature on man, is more than unjust, seeing he had full right to determine how much or how little He would give. Why He did not sustain humans by the virtue of steadfastness is hidden in his own purpose. It is our purpose to keep within the bounds of composure. Humanity had received the power, if it had the will, but it had not the will which would have given the power. For this will would have been followed consistently. Still, after humans had received so much, there is no excuse for them having spontaneously brought death upon themselves. No necessity was laid upon God to give humanity more than an intermediate and even transient will, so that out of humanity’s fall God might extract materials for his own glory.
[Institutes, Book 1, Ch. 15, Sect. 6, 7, 8]
(18) For Calvin, God gave original humans faculties strong enough to resist evil if they chose. From God’s perspective, why isn’t the fall of humans so bad?
Human Reason Partly Preserved after the Fall. Although, according to Calvin, human free will became tainted with the fall of Adam, what about human reason? Calvin suggests that this remained somewhat more intact, as evidenced by the intellectual achievements of nonbelievers.
15. In reading profane authors, the admirable light of truth displayed in them should remind us, that the human mind, however much fallen and perverted from its original integrity, is still adorned and invested with admirable gifts from its Creator. If we reflect that the Spirit of God is the only fountain of truth, we will be careful, so not to insult him, to avoid rejecting or condemning truth wherever it appears. In despising the gifts, we insult the Giver. How, then, can we deny that truth must have beamed on those ancient lawgivers who arranged civil order and discipline with so much equity? Should we say that the philosophers, in their exquisite researches and skillful description of nature, were blind? Should we deny the possession of intellect to those who drew up rules for discourse, and taught us to speak in accordance with reason? Should we say that those who, by the cultivation of the medical art, expended their industry in our behalf were only raving? What should we say of the mathematical sciences? Should we deem them to be the dreams of madmen? No, we cannot read the writings of the ancients on these subjects without the highest admiration. It is an admiration which their excellence will not allow us to withhold. But should we deem anything to be noble and praiseworthy, without tracing it to the hand of God? Such ingratitude is far from us. This is an ingratitude not chargeable even on heathen poets, who acknowledged that philosophy and laws, and all useful arts were the inventions of the gods. Therefore, since it is manifest that people whom the Scriptures term carnal, are so acute and clear-sighted in the investigation of inferior things, their example should teach us how many gifts the Lord has left in possession of human nature, notwithstanding of its having been despoiled of the true good.
(19) What disciplines or areas of human reason remained relatively intact after the fall?
God Gives Particular Unique Abilities. Calvin also notes that God’s spirit works though nonbelievers so that their intellectual contributions can benefit believers.
16. Moreover, let us not forget that there are most excellent blessings which the Divine Spirit dispenses to whom he will for the common benefit of mankind. Consider the skill and knowledge required for the construction of the Tabernacle which was imparted to Bezaleel and Aholiab, [both unbelievers], by the Spirit of God, (Exod. 31: 2; 35: 30). It is not strange, then, that the knowledge of those things which are of the highest excellence in human life is said to be communicated to us by the Spirit. Nor, is there any ground for asking what path the Spirit can have with the ungodly, who are altogether alienated from God? For what is said as to the Spirit dwelling in believers only, is to be understood of the Spirit of holiness by which we are consecrated to God as temples. Notwithstanding of this, He fills, moves, and invigorates all things by the virtue of the Spirit, and that according to the peculiar nature which each class of beings has received by the Law of Creation. But if the Lord has been pleased to assist us by the work and ministry of the ungodly in physics, dialectics, mathematics, and other similar sciences, let us avail ourselves of it. Otherwise, by neglecting the gifts of God spontaneously offered to us, we would be justly punished for our sloth. However, no one should imagine a person is very happy merely because, with reference to the things of this world, he has been endowed with great talents for the investigation of truth. We should add that the whole power of intellect thus given is, in the sight of God, fleeting and vain whenever it is not based on a solid foundation of truth. Augustine ... says most correctly that as the gratuitous gifts given to people were withdrawn, so the natural gifts which remained were corrupted after the fall. Not that they can be polluted in themselves in so far as they proceed from God, but that they have ceased to be pure to polluted man, unless he should by their means obtain any praise.
(20) According of Augustine, why did our natural gifts, such as reason, become corrupt after the fall?
17. The sum of the whole is this: From a general survey of the human race, it appears that one of the essential properties of our nature is reason, which distinguishes us from the lower animals, just as these by means of sense are distinguished from inanimate objects. For although some individuals are born without reason, that defect does not impair the general kindness of God, but rather serves to remind us, that whatever we retain ought justly to be ascribed to the Divine indulgence. Had God not so spared us, our revolt would have carried along with it the entire destruction of nature. God shows his favor to us in that some excel in acuteness, and some in judgment, while others have greater readiness in learning some peculiar art. He gives such a variety to prevent anyone from presuming to usurp to himself that which flows from God’s mere liberality. From this basis it is that one is more excellent than another, but that in a common nature the grace of God is specially displayed in passing by many and thus proclaiming that it is under obligation to none. We may add, that each individual is brought under particular influences according to his calling. Many examples of this occur in the Book of Judges, in which the Spirit of the Lord is said to have come upon those whom he called to govern his people, (Judges 6: 34.) In short, in every distinguished act there is a special inspiration....
[Institutes, Book 2, Chap. 2, Sect. 15, 16, 17]
(21) What is the source of someone’s unique intellectual ability?
Predestination. One of the most controversial aspects of Calvin’s philosophy is the doctrine of predestination: God selects some people to be saved and selects others to be condemned to hell. This position is sometimes called double predestination since the fates of both the saved and unsaved are predetermined.
1. The covenant of [eternal] life is not preached equally to all, and among those to whom it is preached, it does not always meet with the same reception. This diversity reception displays the unsearchable depth of the divine judgment, and is without doubt a part of God’s purpose of eternal election. But if it is plainly owing to God’s mere pleasure that salvation is spontaneously offered to some, while others have no access to it, great and difficult questions immediately arise. These questions are inexplicable, when proper views are not entertained concerning election and predestination. To many this seems a perplexing subject, because they deem it most incompatible that, of the great totality of mankind, some should be predestined to salvation, and others to destruction. ... However, until we are made acquainted with his eternal election, we will never feel persuaded (as we ought) that our salvation flows from the free mercy of God ... It is plain how ignorance of this principle greatly detracts from the glory of God, and impairs true humility. ... To make it evident that our salvation flows entirely from the good mercy of God, we must be carried back to the origin of election. Thus, those who would extinguish it, wickedly do as much as in them lies to obscure what they ought most loudly to extol, and pluck up humility by the very roots. ...
(22) How does the doctrine of predestination highlight God’s glory?
Some theologians maintain that predestination is simply a consequence of God’s foreknowledge. That is, since God knows ahead of time whether we will accept him or reject him, then our path of acceptance or rejection is already fixed. Calvin argues that predestination is not merely an offshoot of foreknowledge in this manner. Instead, predestination involves an overt, deliberate choice on God’s part. This becomes clear when we closely define both foreknowledge and predestination.
5. No pious person could simply deny the predestination by which God adopts some to the hope of life, and pronounces others to eternal death. But it is greatly undermined especially by those who make foreknowledge its cause. We, indeed, ascribe both foreknowledge and predestination to God. But we say, that it is absurd to make the latter subordinate to the former. When we attribute foreknowledge to God, we mean that all things always were, and ever continue, under his eye. To God’s knowledge there is no past or future, but all things are present. Indeed, all things are so present, that it is not merely the idea of them that is before God (such as objects which we retain in our memories) but that he truly sees and contemplates them as actually under his immediate inspection. This foreknowledge extends to the whole circuit of the world, and to all creatures.
(23) How does Calvin define “foreknowledge”?
By predestination we mean the eternal decree of God, by which he determined with himself whatever he wished to happen with regard to every person. All are not created on equal terms, but some are preordained to eternal life, others to eternal damnation. Accordingly, as each has been created for one or other of these ends, we say that each person has been predestined to life or to death. God has testified this not only in the case of single individuals, but with communities too. This was so of all future generations of Abraham, to make it plain that the future condition of each nation lives entirely at his disposal. [Instututes, Book 3, Ch. 21, Sect. 1, 5]
(24) How does Calvin define “predestination”?
In summary, the key elements of Calvin’s understanding of human nature are these. The first created humans had pure intellects, genuinely free wills, and were not predestined to fall. After the fall, though, humans lost their freedom of choice, their intellects became compromised to at least some extent, and their salvation and condemnation became predestined by God. Both before and after the fall, humans had and continue to have an instinctive sense of God’s existence and a consciousness of morality.
C. FIDEISM AND SKEPTICISM
In the philosophy of religion, the term “fideism” (literally “faith-ism”) refers to the view that religious knowledge is initially obtained through faith alone, and not through reason. The champion of this view in early Christian theology was Augustine who maintained that “I believe in order that I may know.” During the middle ages, Augustine’s faith approach to religion was quickly overshadowed by Aquinas, Scotus, Ockham, and others who offered rational proofs for God’s existence. The dominance of this rationalistic approach continued through the Renaissance and early modern period. So strong was this tendency, that during the 18th century it was sometimes a worse offense to reject rational proofs for God than to reject the divine status of Jesus. However, beginning in the Renaissance, a vocal minority of philosophers and theologians opposed such rationalism and returned to the fideism of Augustine. These new defenders of fideism not only ridiculed the authority of reason in religious belief, but some maintained that their views were compatible with the skepticism of the ancient Greeks. As the Renaissance witnessed a new appreciation for ancient Greek classics, the skeptical writings of Sextus Empiricus – the best surviving example of the Pyrrhonian skeptical tradition – were also revived and endorsed by several philosophers. For Sextus, complete skepticism entailed doubting God’s existence – a recommendation that fideists certainly rejected. However, the point of commonality was their respective beliefs in the overall bankruptcy of reason.
MONTAIGNE’S APOLOGY
An early defense of fideist skepticism is found in Michel Montaigne’s Apology for Raymond Sebond (1580). Montaigne (1533-1592) was a French lawyer, diplomat, and creator of the literary form known as the “essay.” His collected writings, the Essay, is a chronological arrangement of 107 chapters on various topics presented in three books. The second book represents the more skeptical phase in his writings, the running theme of which is “what do I know?” (que sais-je). His skeptical approach comes to a head in his Apology (first published separately and later included in the Essay), in which he makes specific use of Sextus’s 10 modes of skepticism to explain his discontent with reason.
Sebond’s Natural Theology. Montaigne opens his “Apology” with a description of Raymond Sebond’s book titled Natural Theology. Sebond (d. 1432) was a 15th century Catholic theologian from Catalonia, Spain. Montaigne’s first published work was a translation of this text (1568-1569), done at his father’s request.
Learning is indeed a very great and considerable quality. Those who despise it invariably discover their own lack of understanding. However, I do not prize it as excessively as others do. For example, Heril the philosopher argued that only the Sovereign Good can make us wise and content. I do not believe this any more than I do the claim made by others that learning is the mother of all virtue, and all vice results from ignorance. Even if it is true, it is subject to a very long interpretation. ... Shortly before my father’s death he accidentally found this book [i.e. the Natural Theology by Raymond Sebond] under a pile of other neglected papers and commanded me to translate it into French for him.... Sebond’s purpose is strong and bold. By human and natural reasoning he undertakes to establish all the articles of Christian religion, contrary to the atheists. He is, in truth, so firm and successful, that I doubt it is possible to do better on that subject, and I doubt that he has been equaled. To me, the work seemed too beautiful and rich for such an unknown author, of whom all we know is that he was a Spanish physics professor at Thoulouse about 200 years ago. I asked Adrian Turnebus, who knows everything, what he thought of the book. He answered that he thought it was an abstract drawn from St. Thomas Aquinas since only Aquinas’s wit, learning, and subtlety could produce those thoughts. So, who ever was the author and inventor (without more argument it is not reasonable to deprive Sebond of that title), he was a person of great sufficiency and admirable abilities. The first thing they attack in his work is that Christians should not base their belief upon human reasoning, as it is only the result of faith and the particular inspiration of divine grace. This objection contains a certain zeal for piety and, thus, with courtesy and respect we should address those who offer it. This is a task more proper for a person well-read in divinity than for me who knows nothing of it. ...
(1) Assuming that Sebond’s reasoning resembled Aquinas’s, what arguments for God’s existence might he offer, and what implications do they have regarding the domain of reason in religious matters?
Faith. Against Sebond’s rationalistic approach to religious belief, Montaigne argues that our reason cannot be relied upon and religious truth is arrived at through faith.
Nevertheless, it is faith alone that grasps the deep mysteries of our religion. I do not say, though, that it is not a brave and admirable attempt to use our God-given natural and human abilities to the service of our faith. It is undoubtedly the most noble use we can put them to.... I know an important, well educated person who confessed to me that Sebond’s arguments saved him from serious error. ... Let us see, then, if man has in his power some more forcible and convincing reasons than those of Sebond – especially people who are inclined to arrive at certainty by arguments and reasons. St. Augustine, disputing against such people, justly criticizes them for maintaining that our beliefs must be false if they cannot be established by reason. He cleverly offers specific experiments to show that a great variety of known and indubitable things cannot be demonstrated by our natural reason, such as when people confess that they see nothing. Without drawing from unusual examples (as Augustine does) we must do more than this so they will see the weakness of their reason. Consider: reason is so blind that there is no faculty clear enough to distinguish the easy and the hard; nature in general challenges reason’s authority and rejects its mediation in all subjects equally; what does Truth mean when she preaches to us to reject worldly philosophy, or when she so frequently dictates to us that our wisdom is folly in the sight of God? The vainest of all vanities is humanity; the person who presumes upon his wisdom does not yet know what wisdom is; a person seduces and deceives himself if he thinks himself to be something when in fact he is nothing. These sentences of the Holy Ghost clearly and vividly express what I am saying, and I need no other proof against people who would submit to the Holy Spirit’s authority with humility and obedience. But those others will not tolerate anyone to oppose their reasoning, except by reasoning itself; thus they will be punished at their own expense.
(2) What is the message of the “Holy Ghost” concerning the use of reason?
Pyrrhonism. Montaigne continues by describing the skeptical position of Pyrrho, the ancient Greek philosopher.
Suppose that learning and knowledge actually produced the effects they speak of. That is, they could blunt and soften the sharpness of the misfortunes that follow us. Does it do this any better than what ignorance accomplishes much more clearly and simply? The philosopher Pyrrho was at sea, and because of a violent storm was in great danger of being thrown overboard. He offered no comfort to those that were with him in the ship except to follow the example of a pig that was on board. For, nothing at all dismayed the pig, who seemed to watch and outstare the storm. Philosophy, after all her principles, ultimately has us follow the examples of a wrestler or a muleteer. For in them we see less feeling of death, pain, grief, and other inconveniences. They exhibit a more courageous consistency than learning or knowledge could ever give someone, unless, through an inborn habit, he prepared for it. ...
That ignorance which knows, judges, and condemns itself is not an absolute ignorance. For to be so, it must be completely ignorant of itself. Thus, the profession of the Pyrrhonians is to waver, to doubt, to inquire, and never be assured of anything nor explain himself. Of the three functions or faculties of the soul (i.e. the imaginative, the appetite, and the consenting), they follow the first two, but the last they believe is ambiguous and hold neither one side nor the other with approval or inclination. ... This straight and inflexible attitude of their judgment, receiving all objects without adoption or consent, leads them to their tranquillity. This is the condition of a quiet and settled life, which is exempt from the agitations which we receive by the impression of the opinion and knowledge which we imagine to have of things.
(3) What is the end result of skepticism for Pyrrhonian skeptics?
From such knowledge we get fear, avarice, envy, passionate desires, ambition, pride, superstition, love of novelty, rebellion, disobedience, obstinacy, and a great number of bodily evils. Indeed, by with this attitude they exempt themselves from jealousy within their own discipline. For, they argue only mildly. The do not fear rebuttal or contradiction in their arguments. When they say that heavy things fall downward, they would hate to be believed and wish to be contradicted. This, in turn, brings about doubt and suspense of judgment, which is their purpose. They put forward their propositions only to criticize those they imagine we believe in. If you take their side, then they will try to maintain the opposite view. It is all the same to them, nor do they have a preference. If you propose that snow is black, they will argue on the other side that snow is white. If you say it is neither one nor the other, they will maintain that it is both.
(4) How do Pyrrhonians typically engage in disputes?
... I understand why the Pyrrhonian philosophers cannot by any manner of speech express their general conception. To do so, they would need a new language. Our language is completely composed of affirmative propositions, which are directly against the Pyrrhonians. Thus, when they say “I doubt” you have them by the throat to make them admit that they doubt; at least you are assured of and know this. So they have been compelled to save themselves with the following comparison from medicine, without which their attitude would be inexplicable. When they say, “I don’t know,” or “I doubt,” they say, that this proposition expels itself along with other propositions, just as rhubarb [i.e. a laxative] purges one of bad humors and is itself purged. This attitude is more clearly seen in the question “What do I know?” I bear these words as inscribed on a pair of balances.
(5) According to the Pyrrhonians’ “laxative” metaphor, what becomes of the skeptic’s very claim that everything should be doubted?
DE LA MOTHE
For Montaigne, religious belief through faith is the only option given the bankruptcy of reason, as Pyrrhonism shows. The compatibility between faith and Pyrrhonian skepticism is stated more directly by Francois de la Mothe le Vayer (1588-1669), a French disciple of Montaigne. De La Mothe argues that Pyrrhonism is an important tool of theology insofar as it undermines dogmatism. Further, 5th century mystical theologian Pseudo-Dionysius argued that our truest knowledge of God emerges by way of negation. That is, by denying specific attributes of God, we have a more true picture of him than we would if we merely asserted his traditional attributes. Skepticism reinforces this approach.
It is with some reason that we believe the system of the Skeptics, which is based on their insightful acknowledgment of human ignorance. The Skeptics’ system is less contrary to our belief than any other, and is the most fit to make one accept the supernatural light of faith. By endorsing skepticism, we only reiterate what is in accord with the best theology. In particular, St. Dionysius teaches us in more direct terms about the weakness of our minds and our ignorance, especially with respect to divine things. Thus, that great Doctor explains what God himself said by the mouth of his prophets, that he made his retreat in darkness. This being so, we cannot come near God without entering that mysterious obscurity. From this we learn the important lesson that God cannot be known but obscurely, covered with enigmas or clouds, and as the scholastics say, by being ignorant of him. However, those who have always professed humility and ignorance will be better pleased than others with that spiritual obscurity. The Dogmatists, on the other hand, who never feared anything as much as appearing to be ignorant, are presently lost in it. Being so presumptuous as to believe that they are clear-sighted enough to overcome all manner of obscurity, their blindness increases so much the more, as they imagine themselves moving forward in a darkness, into which human nature cannot penetrate. However, it is my opinion that Skepticism is of no little use to a Christian, when it works to undermine all those authoritarian doctrines which St. Paul detests so much. [selections from De la Vertu des Payens]
(6) For De la Mothe, what use does skepticism have for Christianity, and why?
BAYLE’S DICTIONARY
A final illustration of the unusual marriage between fideism and skepticism is the following from Pierre Bayle (1647-1706). Bayle was a French philosophy and history professor who is most remembered for his monumental Historical and Critical Dictionary (1692). The multi-volume work contains entries on over two and a half thousand people – from Adam and Eve to Spinoza – and nearly two hundred entries on non-person topics. Bayle sheltered himself from political repercussions by making conservative statements in the main entries of his articles, but indirectly and obliquely criticizing those views in the extended notes which were several times longer than the initial entry. This approach was adopted by the 18th century Encyclopedists. Critics of Bayle saw through this concealment and accused him of endorsing Manicheanism, Pyrrhonism, Epicureanism, and atheism. Of particular importance were his entries on Eve, David, Pyrrho, the Manicheans, the Paulicans, Zeno, Pomponazzi, Xenophanes, Spinoza, Nicole, and Pellison. The following are selections from his article on Pyrrho. He begins with a harmless description of Pyrrho’s skepticism.
... Pyrrho found reasons to both affirm and deny everything; thus he suspended his assent after he had well examined the arguments pro and con, and reduced all his conclusions to a non liquet, that is, let the matter be further inquired into. So, he sought truth as long as he lived, but he viewed the matter in such a way that he never would grant that he found it. Though he is not the creator of that method of philosophizing, yet it goes by his name. It is commonly called Pyrrhonism (or skepticism) and is the art of disputing everything, without doing anything else but suspending one’s judgment. It is justly detested in the schools of Divinity, where some try to give it a new, though an illusory, strength. However, it may be useful to compel a person out of a sense of ignorance, to call for the help of God, and to submit to the authority of faith.
Bayle elaborates on the final point above in a footnote:
When a person is able to apprehend all the ways of suspending his judgment, which have been explained by Sextus Empiricus, he may then see that logic is the greatest effort of subtlety that the human mind is capable of. But he will also see that such a subtlety will give him no satisfaction. It confuses itself; for if it were solid, it would necessarily prove that we must doubt. Therefore there would be some certainty, there would be a certain rule of truth. However, that system itself would be destroyed by it. But you need not fear that things would come to that: the reasons for doubting are doubtful themselves: one must therefore doubt whether he ought to doubt. What chaos! What torment for the mind! It seems, therefore, that this unhappy state is the fittest of all to convince us, that our reason is the way to wander, since when it displays itself with the greatest subtlety, it throws us into such emptiness. What naturally follows from this is to renounce that guide, and appeal to the cause of all things to give us a better guide. It is a great step towards the Christian religion, which requires us to expect from God the knowledge of what we are to believe and do, and that we should attach our understanding to the obedience of faith. If a person is first convinced that he can expect no satisfaction from his philosophical studies, he will be more inclined to pray to God; he will ask God for the conviction of the truths which he ought to believe, rather than flattering himself with the success of his reasoning and disputing. It is therefore a welcomed inclination to faith to know the defects of reason. Hence it is that Pascal and some others have said, that to convert Libertines, they must be made sensible of the weakness of reason, and taught to mistrust it.
(7) According to Bayle, what is the problem of circularity with the Pyrrhonian method of skepticism as advanced by Sextus Empiricus?
(8) For Bayle, how is skepticism “a great step toward the Christian religion”?
PASCAL’S WAGER
Blaise Pascal (1623-1662) is remembered for both his scientific and theological contributions to the 17th century. He devoted himself to science in the early part of his life and invented the first calculating machine, which was one of the first applied achievements of the scientific revolution. He also conducted experiments on air pressure and, contrary to the accepted views at the time, concluded that “nature has no abhorrence of a vacuum.” After a religious experience in 1654, Pascal joined the ascetic Jansenist religious order and devoted most of his writing to theology. He continued writing in the field of mathematics, though, making contributions in probability theory, number theory and geometry. After his death, an unfinished book of his titled Thoughts (Pensees) was published. Although Pascal is a harsh critic of Pyrrhonian skepticism in this work, he nevertheless denies that science can improve the human condition – presumably a conclusion based on the limits he found to his own scientific inquiries. And, even though he strongly attacks religious skepticism, he nevertheless believes that the traditional arguments for God’s existence fail: there is “too much to deny, yet too little to be sure.” Religious belief, then, is a matter of faith and not reason. The most famous part of the work is the “Wager”: when reason is neutral on the issue of God’s existence, the balance of positive and negative consequences of believing vs. disbelieving in God should psychologically compel us to believe that he exists.
Reason is Neutral Concerning God. Pascal begins his discussion of the Wager by discussing the limitations of reason in proving God’s existence.
By faith we know God’s existence. In the glorious state of heaven we will know his nature. Now, I have already shown that we may easily know the existence of a thing without knowing its nature. Let us speak now according to the light of nature. If there is a God he is infinitely incomprehensible, since, having neither parts nor limits, he has no proportion to us. We are then incapable of knowing either what he is, or whether he is. This being true, who will dare to undertake to resolve this question? It cannot be we who have no proportion to him.
Who, then, will blame those Christians who are not able to give a reason for their belief insofar as they profess a religion for which they can give no reason? In exposing it to the world, they declare that it is a folly stultitiam (1 Corinthians, 1:18). And then you complain that they do not prove it! If they proved it, they would not keep their word. It is in lacking proofs that they do not lack sense. Yes, but though this may excuse those who offer it such, and take away the blame for producing it without reason, this does not excuse those who receive it.
(9) What does the “light of nature” or reason alone tell us about God’s nature and existence?
Let us examine this point then, and say “God is, or he is not.” But to which side shall we incline? Reason cannot decide it at all. There is an infinite chaos that separates us. A game is being played at the extremity of this infinite distance in which heads or tails must come up. Which will you take? By reason you can wager on neither. By reason you can hinder neither from winning.
Do not, then, charge those with falsehood who have made a choice. For you know nothing about it. “No. But I blame them for having made, not this choice, but a choice. For although he who takes heads, and the other, are in the same fault, they are both in fault. The proper way is simply not to wager.”
(10) Given that our reason cannot prove God’s existence, what is wrong with just flipping a coin to decide what we should believe?
Stakes of the Wager. Even though we can’t just flip a coin, Pascal believes that ultimately a choice must be made. In William James’s terms, we face a “forced option” where even not choosing constitutes a choice. Not only is our choice forced, but there are tremendous differences in consequences depending on what side we choose.
Yes, but you must wager. This is not voluntary. You have set sail. Which will you take? Let’s see. Since a choice must be made, let’s see which interests you the least. You have two things to lose: the true and the good. And you have two things to stake: your reason and your will; that is, your knowledge and your complete happiness. And your nature has two things to shun: error and misery. Your reason is not more wounded, since a choice must necessarily be made in choosing one rather than the other. Here a point is eliminated. But what about your happiness? Let us weigh the gain and the loss in taking heads that God exists. Let us weigh these two cases. If you gain, you gain all. If you lose, you lose nothing. Wager without hesitation, then, that he is. “This is admirable. Yes, it is necessary to wager, but perhaps I wager too much.” Let us see. Since there is equal risk of gaining or losing, if you had to gain but two lives for one, still you might wager. But if there were three lives to gain, it would be required to play (since you are under the necessity of playing). And, when you are forced to play, you would be imprudent not to risk your life in order to gain three in a play where there is equal hazard of loss and gain. But there is an eternity of life and happiness. And this being true, even if there were an infinity of chances (only one of which might be for you) you would still be right in wagering one in order to have two. And being obliged to play, if there was an infinity of life infinitely happy to gain, you would act foolishly to refuse to play one life against three in a game where among an infinity of chances there is one for you. But there is here an infinity of life infinitely happy to gain. And there is a chance of gain against a finite number of chances of loss, and what you play is finite.
(11) How much do we stand to gain if we wager in favor of belief in God?
This [the balance of gain over loss] is quite settled. Wherever the infinite is, and where there is not an infinity of chances of loss against the chance of gain, there is nothing to weigh, and we must give all. And thus, when we are forced to play, we must renounce reason in order to keep life, rather than to risk it for the infinite gain, which is as likely to occur as the loss of nothingness.
The stakes of the wager are illustrated in the following chart:
Wager he exists Wager he doesn’t
God exists | infinite happiness nothing
God doesn’t exist | nothing nothing
The point of the wager is neither to prove that God exists, nor that belief in God is a rational belief. Instead, the wager aims to show that belief in God is a rational act. An act is rational if it achieves a reasonable end; by contrast, beliefs are rational when they meet certain standards (consistency, due consideration of the relevant evidence).
Whether Future Happiness is Infinitely Uncertain. Pascal continues voicing a potential criticism to his above reasoning. My happiness in this life is certain, but my alleged future happiness is actually infinitely uncertain. So why gamble on that which is infinitely uncertain, regardless of how great its possible gain?
For there is no use in saying that it is uncertain whether we shall gain, and that it is certain that we risk. And there is no use in saying that, [a] the infinite distance between the certainty of what we risk and, [b] the uncertainty of what we shall gain, raises the finite good which we certainly risk to a level of equality with the uncertain infinite gain. It is not so. Every player, without violating reason, risks a certainty to gain uncertainty, and nevertheless he risks a finite certainty to gain a finite uncertainty. The distance is not infinite between this certainty of what we risk, and the uncertainty of gain. This is false. There is, in truth, an infinity between the certainty of gaining and the certainty of losing. But the uncertainty of gaining is proportioned to the certainty of what we risk, according to the proportion of the chances of gain and loss. It follows from this that if there are as many chances on one side as there are on the other, the game is playing even. And then the certainty of what we risk is equal to the uncertainty of the gain. This is quite far from being infinitely distant. And thus our proposition [of infinite gain] is of infinite force when there is the finite to hazard in a play where the chances of gain and loss are equal, and the infinite to gain. This is demonstrative, and if people are capable of any truths, this is one of them.
Pascal’s response to the above criticism is to deny that our future gain is infinitely uncertain. The odds are the same as to whether we will gain happiness or we won’t.
Faith. Pascal continues by considering those who say that they are not psychologically capable of making such a belief commitment.
“I confess it, I admit it. But, still, are there no means of seeing the truth behind the game?” Yes, the scriptures and the rest.
“Yes, but my hands are tied and my mouth is dumb. I am forced to wager, and I am not free. I am chained and so constituted that I cannot believe. What will you have me do then?” It is true. But at least learn your inability to believe, since reason brings you to such belief [given the above reasoning], and yet you cannot believe. Try then to convince yourself not by the addition of proofs for the existence of God, but by the reduction of your own passions. You would have recourse to faith, but don’t know the ways. You wish to be cured of infidelity, and you ask for the remedy. Learn it from those who have been bound like yourself, and who would wager now all their goods. These know the road that you wish to follow, and are cured of a disease that you wish to be cured of. Follow their course, then, from its beginning. It consisted in doing all things as if they believed in them, in using holy water, in having masses said, etc. Naturally this will make you believe and stupefy you at the same time. “But this is what I fear.” And why? What have you to lose?
(12) Pascal’s solution to those who claim an inability to believe is to reduce one’s passions and rely on faith. What steps should we take to have such faith?
No Loss in This Life. Pascal argues that a life of belief in God is not a loss in this life, but is in fact a gain.
But to show you that this leads to it [i.e. belief], this will diminish the passions, which are your great obstacles. Now, what harm will come to you in taking this course? you would be faithful, virtuous, humble, grateful, beneficent, a sincere friend, truthful. Truly, you would not be given up to poisonous pleasures, to false glory, or false joys. But would you not have other pleasures?
I say to you that you will gain by it in this life. And, each step you take in this direction, you will see so much of the certainty of gain, and so much of the nothingness of what you hazard, that you will acknowledge in the end that you have wagered something certain, infinite for which you have given nothing.
James’s Criticisms of Pascal’s Wager. In his essay “The Will to Believe,” early 20th century American philosopher William James criticized Pascal’s Wager on two accounts. James first argues that the calculating nature of the wager is too cold and impersonal and cannot produce sincere belief:
We feel that a faith in masses and holy water adopted willfully after such a mechanical calculation – would lack the inner soul of faith’s reality; and if we were ourselves in the place of the Deity, we should probably take particular pleasure in cutting off believers of this pattern from their infinite reward. It is evident that unless there be some pre-existing tendency to believe in masses and holy water, the option offered to the will by Pascal is not a living option.
(13) If the point of the wager is to produce a rational action as opposed to a rational belief (as discussed above) is James’ criticism relevant? Explain.
James’s second criticism is that the same argument in the wager applies to belief in other deities since different religions claim to give eternal life:
As well might the Mahdi write to us, saying, “I am the Expected One whom God has created in his effulgence. You shall be infinitely happy if you confess me; otherwise you shall be cut off from the light of the sun. Weigh, then, your infinite gain if I am genuine against your finite sacrifice if I am not! “
(14) Illustrate James’s point using either a real or invented world religion.
D. ASTRONOMY
There were two distinct types of contributions in the scientific revolution: (1) particular discoveries, such as the calculus, the sun-centered view of the heavens, and the theory of gravity; and (2) methods of scientific investigation, particularly those by Francis Bacon and René Descartes. This section deals with the first of these, focusing particularly on the contributions to the field of astronomy. The connection between astronomy and philosophy during the scientific revolution may not be immediately obvious and requires an explanation. Some philosophers, such as Pascal, were instrumental in making specific scientific discoveries. More importantly, though, some scientific discoveries had profound effects on the conception of humans in the universe, which ultimately became important for philosophers. This is especially so with the overthrow of the earth-centered system for the sun-centered system.
THE EARTH-CENTERED SYSTEM OF THE UNIVERSE
The medieval earth-centered view of the universe is based on a progression of ideas in ancient Greek astronomy. The dialog began with Thales (636-546 BCE.), who believed that the earth was a flat disk floating on water. More sophisticated systems were soon proposed. Followers of Pythagoras (fl. 530 BCE.) suggested that the earth was round and encircled by several heavenly spheres, similar to the layers of an onion which surround its core. The moon was attached to the inner most sphere, and all the stars to the outer sphere. Attached to the middle spheres were Mercury, Venus, the Sun, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn. The spheres were perfectly round, and moved in a perfectly uniform shape. The faster spheres were closer to the center (Mercury being the fastest) and the slower ones further away (Saturn being the slowest). A Pythagorean named Philolaus (fl. 425 BCE.) suggested an alternative scheme. A fiery watchtower of the gods was at the center of things, and the earth, the sun, and the planets rotated around the fiery watchtower. This view never took hold. Following the earlier Pythagorean model, Eudoxus (fl. 370 BCE.) offered a system with 27 spheres rotating around the fixed earth. A similar picture of the universe emerges with Aristotle (384-322 BCE.) in “On the Heavens” and Book 8 of the Physics. Aristotle held that the spheres were perfectly shaped solids and totaled 55 in number, resulting from the 55 distinct observable motions in the sky. Each sphere is also accompanied with its own god, and the spheres move with joy in the presence of its god. The gods are eternal, so this produces circular motion, which for him is the only kind of perfect and eternal motion.
An underlying problem with the earth-centered schemes of the universe was explaining the retrograde, or apparent backward motion of the planets. This appears when observing over a period of years the movement of planets against the backdrop of the stars. A theory of perfectly circular spheres in perfectly circular motion could not account for these observations. To bring the models of the universe in line with observed phenomena, different changes were proposed. Aristarchus (fl. 240 BCE.) maintained that the sun was at the center of the universe and the planets – along with the earth – were attached to their own encircling sphere. Aristarchus also proposed that the earth rotated on its axis. Unfortunately, his views were not adopted. A second modification was a system of epicycles. Epicycles are smaller pinwheel-like spheres attached to the larger spheres. The earth remains at the center of surrounding spheres. The planets, then, move around on the smaller epicycles, while the epicycles move around on the larger spheres. This view was developed by Hipparchus (fl. 140 BCE.). A third modification was a system of eccentric circles. On this view, all of the heavenly spheres surround the earth. However, the earth is not at the exact center, but slightly off to one side. As the planetary spheres rotate, the spheres are tugged slightly off center, then on center, then off again. A combination of the rotation and the tugging presents the illusion of retrograde motion from the earth’s perspective.
The eccentric and epicycle model were combined by Ptolemy (fl. 120 CE.), a Greco-Egyptian mathematician and geographer. In his 13 volume Almagest, he presents the accumulated data from years of astronomical observations. He then shows that Hipparchus’s simple account of epicycles cannot be made to fit the data. Instead, he argues that the data is better explained when the planets are attached to epicycles and the earth is slightly off center. Ptolemy’s explanation dominated European astronomy for the next 1300 years. However, as more astronomical data was accumulated during the middle ages, refinements were made to both the pure epicycle system of Hipparchus and Ptolemy’s combination epicycle-eccentric system. Some epicycle systems proposed that there were epicycles within epicycles. The most sophisticated of these had over 200 epicycles. Developments of Ptolemy’s combination system retained a single epicycle; however, they introduced a reference point (called the “equant”) on the other side of the off centered earth. The larger planetary spheres would then speed up and slow down in relation to the area swept by this reference point.
Medieval systems of the universe retained and further developed the metaphysical aspects of the heavens. Since crystals on earth have a natural symmetry, many believed that the perfect heavenly spheres were a spherical variety of crystals. The heavens were still seen as a place of perfection where spiritual beings dwelled. The universe was finite, extending no further than the final crystalline sphere containing the stars. Following Aristotle, God is the prime mover who starts all motion which then moves down through the spheres, ultimately producing the tides, the winds, the seasons, and the generation of plants and animals. Virtually every astronomer was an astrologer, given that everything in the heavens had significance.
COPERNICUS
Piece by piece, Renaissance astronomers reject the medieval systems of the universe. Polish clergyman Nicholas Copernicus (1473-1543) proposed the sun-centered system in his On the Revolutions of the Heavenly Spheres (1543). On his view, the sun was encircled by a series of perfectly circular spheres which moved the planets. To make his theory match his actual observations of planetary motion, he still needed to postulate 45 epicycles and eccentric planetary orbits. His theory was no more accurate in prediction than either of the earth-centered systems (that is, the elaborate epicycle system or the modified epicycle-eccentric circle system). It also carried over the belief in celestial spheres and a finite universe. Copernicus died shortly after the publication of his work, and thus did not witness the official backlash to his theory from the Catholic Church which condemned his theory in 1616. Nevertheless, astronomers of the time accepted it over rival medieval systems because of its unity and harmony. Many accepted his view as simply a helpful calculating device, without making a commitment to its truth. The following selections are from his “Dedication” to the Pope in On the Revolutions of the Heavenly Spheres.
Reasons for Writing the Book. Copernicus opens explaining why he published his writings in the first place.
In this book which I have written concerning the revolutions of the heavenly bodies, I ascribe certain motions to the Earth. I can easily conceive, most Holy Father, that as soon as some people learn that, they will cry out at once that I and my theory should be rejected. For I am not so much in love with my conclusions that I will not weigh what others will think about them. I know that the meditations of a philosopher are far removed from the judgment of the laity, because his job is to seek out the truth in all things, so far as this is permitted by God to the human reason. Nevertheless, I still believe that one must avoid theories altogether foreign to orthodoxy. I consider in my own mind how absurd a performance it must seem to those who know that the judgment of many centuries has approved the view that the Earth remains fixed as center in the midst of the heavens. This has me consider if I should, to the contrary, assert that the Earth moves. I was for a long time at a loss to know whether I should publish the commentaries which I have written in proof of its motion. It may be better to follow the example of the Pythagoreans and of some others, who were accustomed to test the secrets of Philosophy not in writing but orally, and only to their relatives and friends, as the letter from Lysis to Hipparchus bears witness. They did this, it seems to me, not because of a certain selfish reluctance to give out their views to the world, as some think. Instead it was so that the noblest truths, worked out by the careful study of great people, should not be rejected by those who are disturbed at the idea of taking great pains with any forms of literature except such as would be profitable. Other people might also reject it who are driven to the study of philosophy for its own sake (by the admonitions and the example of others) but, on account of their stupidity, hold a place among philosophers similar to that of drones among bees. Therefore, when I considered this carefully, the contempt which I had to fear because of the novelty and apparent absurdity of my view, nearly induced me to abandon utterly the work I had began.
(1) According to Copernicus, why did the Pythagoreans not publish their discoveries in writing, but only communicate them orally?
My friends, however, in spite of long delay and even resistance on my part, withheld me from this decision. First among these was Nicolaus Schonberg, Cardinal of Capua, distinguished in all branches of learning. Next to him comes my very dear friend, Tidemann Giese, Bishop of Culm, a most earnest student, as he is, of sacred and, indeed, of all good learning. The latter has often urged me, at times even spurring me on with reproaches, to publish and at last bring to the light the book which had lain in my study not nine years merely, but already going on four times nine. Several other very eminent and scholarly people made the same request, urging that I should no longer through fear refuse to give out my work for the common benefit of students of mathematics. They said I should find that the more absurd most people currently thought this theory of mine concerning the motion of the earth [prior to publication], the more admiration and gratitude it would command after they saw in the publication of my commentaries the mist of absurdity cleared away by most transparent proofs. I was influenced by these advisors and this hope, and I have finally allowed my friends to publish the work, as they had long encouraged to do.
(2) Why did Copernicus decide to publish his ideas?
Problems with Traditional Theories. Copernicus continues by explaining the two existing systems of the universe and noting their respective faults.
But perhaps Your Holiness will see better why I published these studies after seeing the pains I’ve taken in elaborating them, and have not hesitated to commit my views of the motion of the Earth to writing. You may similarly be curious to hear how it occurred to me to form a conception of any terrestrial motion in the first place – contrary to both the accepted view of mathematicians and common sense. Therefore I will have it known to Your Holiness that the only thing which induced me to look for another way of reckoning the movements of the heavenly bodies was that I knew that mathematicians by no means agree in their investigations of this subject. For, in the first place, they are so much in doubt concerning the motion of the sun and the moon, that they can not even demonstrate and prove by observation the constant length of a complete year. And in the second place, in determining the motions both of these and of the five other planets, they fail to employ consistently one set of first principles and hypotheses; instead, they use methods of proof based only on the apparent revolutions and motions. For some employ concentric circles only [with many epicycles]. Others use eccentric circles and [a single] epicycles. And even by these means they do not completely attain the desired end. For, although those who have depended upon concentric circles [and many epicycles] have shown that certain diverse motions can be deduced from these. Yet they have not succeeded thereby in laying down any sure principle, corresponding indisputably to the phenomena.
(3) What is the problem with the system of concentric circles and many epicycles?
Those, on the other hand, who have devised systems of eccentric circles, seem in great part to have solved the apparent movements by calculations which by these eccentrics are made to fit. However, they have nevertheless introduced many things which seem to contradict the first principles of the uniformity of motion. Nor have they been able to discover or calculate from these the main points, which is the shape of the world and the fixed symmetry of its parts. Their procedure has been as if someone were to collect hands, feet, a head, and other members from various places, all very fine in themselves, but not proportionate to one body, and no single one corresponding in its turn to the others; from these, then, a monster rather than a man would be formed. Thus in their process of demonstration which they term a “method,” they are found to have omitted something essential, or to have included something foreign and not pertaining to the matter in hand.
(4) What is the problem with the system of eccentric circles?
This certainly would never have happened to them if they had followed fixed principles. For if the hypotheses they assumed were not false, all that resulted therefrom would be verified indubitably. Those things which I am saying now may be obscure, yet they will be made clearer in their proper place.
Advantages of the Sun-Centered System. Copernicus explains how he got the idea of a sun-centered system from ancient writers. Further, by working out the details of this new system, he explains that there is a symbiotic compatibility among all the parts of the system.
I turned over in my mind for a long time this uncertainty of the traditional mathematical methods of calculating the motions of the celestial bodies. I began to grow disgusted that no more consistent scheme of the movements of the mechanism of the universe (set up for our benefit by that best and most law abiding Architect of all things) was agreed upon by philosophers who otherwise investigate so carefully the most minute details of this world. Thus, I undertook the task of re-reading the books of all the philosophers I could get access to, to see whether anyone ever was of the opinion that the motions of the celestial bodies were other than those postulated by the people who taught mathematics in the schools. And I found first, indeed, in Cicero, that Niceta perceived that the Earth moved. After that, in Plutarch, I found that some others were of this opinion, whose words I have seen fit to quote here, that they may be accessible to all:
Some maintain that the Earth is stationary, but Philolaus the Pythagorean says that it revolves in a circle about the fire of the ecliptic, like the sun and moon. Heraklides of Pontus and Ekphantus the Pythagorean make the Earth move, not changing its position, however, confined in its falling and rising around its own center in the manner of a wheel.
(5) Which ancient writers proposed a sun-centered system?
Taking this as a starting point, I began to consider the mobility of the Earth. And although the idea seemed absurd, yet because I knew that the liberty had been granted to others before me to postulate all sorts of little circles for explaining the phenomena of the stars, I thought I also might easily be permitted to try whether by postulating some motions of the Earth, more reliable conclusions could be reached regarding the revolution of the heavenly bodies, than those of my predecessors.
So, I postulated movements which (further on in the book) I ascribe to the Earth, and though many and long observations I discovered the following. I assumed that the movements of the other planets are applied also to the circular motion of the Earth, and are also substituted for the revolution of each star. From this, not only do their phenomena follow logically, but the relative positions and magnitudes both of the stars and all their orbits, and of the heavens themselves, become closely related. So closely related are they that nothing can be changed in any of its parts without causing confusion in the other parts and in the whole universe. Therefore, in the course of the work I have followed this plan: I describe in the first book all the positions of the orbits together with the movements which I ascribe to the Earth, in order that this book might contain, as it were, the general scheme of the universe. In the remaining books, I establish the motions of the other stars and of all their orbits together with the movement of the Earth. This is done so that one may see from this to what extent the movements and appearances of the other stars and their orbits can be saved, if they are transferred to the movement of the Earth.
(6) According to Copernicus, how can some of the apparent motion of the stars be explained?
Appeal to the Pope. Copernicus concludes his “Dedication” noting that some may oppose his theory on the grounds that it is contrary to scripture. To block such attacks, he requests the Pope’s endorsement.
I do not doubt that inventive and educated mathematicians will support me, so long as they are willing to recognize and weigh those matters which have been adduced by me in this work to demonstrate these theories. They must not do this superficially, though, but with that thoroughness which Philosophy demands above everything. In order, however, that both the learned and the unlearned equally may see that I do not avoid anyone’s judgment, I have preferred to dedicate these studies of mine to your Holiness rather than to any other, because, even in this remote corner of the world where I live, you are considered to be the most eminent man in dignity of rank and in love of all learning and even of mathematics, so that by your authority and judgment you can easily suppress the bites of slanderers, albeit the proverb has it that there is no remedy for the bite of a sycophant. If perchance there shall be idle talkers, who, though they are ignorant of all mathematical sciences, nevertheless assume the right to pass judgment on these things, and if they should dare to criticize and attack this theory of mine because of some passage of scripture which they have falsely distorted for their own purpose, I care not at all; I will even despise their judgment as foolish. For it is not unknown that Lactantius, otherwise a famous writer but a poor mathematicians, speaks most childishly of the shape of the Earth when he makes fun of those who said that the Earth has the form of a sphere. It should not seem strange then to zealous students, if some such people shall ridicule us also. Mathematics are written for mathematicians, to whom, if my opinion does not deceive me, our labors will seem to contribute something to the ecclesiastical state whose chief office Your Holiness now occupies; for when not so very long ago, under Leo X, in the Lateran Council the question of revising the ecclesiastical calendar was discussed, it then remained unsettled, simply because the length of the years and months, and the motions of the sun and moon were held to have been not yet sufficiently determined. Since that time, I have given my attention to observing these more accurately, urged on by a very distinguished man, Paul, Bishop of Fossombrone, who at that time had charge of the matter. But what I may have accomplished herein I leave to the judgment of Your Holiness in particular, and to that of all other learned mathematicians; and lest I seem to Your Holiness to promise. more regarding the usefulness of the work than I can perform, I now pass to the work itself.
(7) What benefits does Copernicus think his system will have for the Church?
After Copernicus, the next key contribution to sun-centered theory was Johannes Kepler (1571-1603), a German teacher of mathematics and astronomy. Influenced by Neoplatonists who honored the sun, Kepler followed Copernicus’s sun-centered account. He also held that the solar system contained a series of enveloping “regular solids.” Regular solids are three dimensional shapes which have equal edges, equal angles, equal faces and equal corners. Each planetary orbit circled around one of these huge regular solids. The order is as follows: a sphere for Saturn, a cube, a sphere for Jupiter, a tetrahedron, a sphere for Mars, a dodecahedron, a sphere for Earth. Two additional solids rested within earth’s sphere for Venus and Mercury. Excited by this concept, he worked as an assistant to the Danish astronomer Tycho Brahe (1546-1601) in the hopes of gaining access to Brahe’s state of the art observational data. Kepler experimented with different configurations of circular planetary orbits. However, he was dissatisfied because of an observational discrepancy of 8 minutes (where 60 minutes equals one degree). In his On the Motion of Mars (1609) solved the riddle with his proposed three laws of planetary motion: (1) planets travel in elliptical orbits; (2) the radius vector connecting sun and planet sweeps over equal areas in equal times; and (3) the squares of the periods of any two planets are in the same ratio as the cubes of their mean distances from the sun (i.e. the farther away from the sun, the slower a planet moves). In spite of his advances, Kepler’s religious mysticism made him hesitant to abandon the notion of perfect crystalline spheres in the heavens.
GALILEO
The son of a musician, Galileo Galilei (1564-1642) was born near Florence and later studied medicine at the University of Pisa. Legend has it that he observed a swinging lamp in the university cathedral, and noted that it took the same amount of time for it to complete its swing cycle, regardless of how wide the swing was. This inspired him to study mathematics. Galileo took on various teaching posts, and made a name for himself by publishing scientific treatises. In 1592 he was awarded the chair of mathematics at Padua, where he remained for 18 years and did his most important work. In a letter to Kepler during this time (April 4, 1597) he notes that he had for some time been an advocate of the Copernican system, but said nothing of it for fear of ridicule.
The Telescope. Telescopes were invented by Dutch spectacle makers who brought them to sell in Venice. The invention appealed to businesspeople since it could detect cargo ships two hours before they could otherwise be observed, thus giving the businessperson an advantage in the market. Galileo heard of the invention while visiting Venice in the Spring of 1609. On his return to Padua, in one night he thought the idea out himself and made a telescope which had a power of three. In The Assayer (1623) he explains his thought process.
On the simple information of the effect obtained, I discovered the telescope, not by chance [as was the case with the original Dutch inventor], but by the way of pure reasoning. Here are the steps. The artifice of the instrument depends either on one glass or on several. It cannot depend on one, for that must be either convex, or concave, or plain. The last form neither augments nor diminishes visible objects. The concave diminishes them, and the convex increases them, but both show them blurred and indistinct. Passing then to the combination of two glasses, and knowing that glasses with plain surfaces change nothing, I concluded that the effect could not be produced by combining a plain glass with a convex or a concave one. I was thus left with the two other kinds of glasses, and after a few experiments I saw how the effect sought could be produced. Such was the march of my discovery, in which I was not assisted in any way by the knowledge that the conclusion at which I aimed was a fact.
Galileo explains how he made another telescope with a power of 30 and pointed it at the sky. His findings were published in The Starry Messenger (1610). He recounts that he saw more stars through the telescope than one could with the naked eye. He discovered the moons of Jupiter, and suggested that the earth was just another planet, like moons of the sun.
The Moon’s Surface. In The Starry Messenger, he also published the first map of the moon; its rough surfaces – seen especially on the boundaries between shadow and light – suggested that it was made of the same general stuff as the earth, and not a perfect, heavenly substance. He writes, “on earth, before the rising of the sun, are not the highest peaks of the mountains illuminated by the sun’s rays while the plains remain in shadow”? The publication of the Starry Messenger prompted numerous exchanges between Galileo and scientists of the day. In the following selection from Galileo’s letter to Giacomo Muti (Feb. 28, 1616), the implications of the moon’s rough surface are discussed, particularly as regards life on the moon.
A few days ago, when paying my respects to the illustrious Cardinal Muti, a discussion arose on the inequalities of the moon’s surface. Signor Alessandro Capoano argued to disprove the fact [of its rough surfaces]. He argued that if the lunar surfaces be unequal and mountainous, and since nature has made our earth mountainous for the benefit of plants and animals beneficial to mankind, one may say as a consequence that on the moon there must be other plants and other animals beneficial to other intellectual creatures. Since such a consequence is most false, he said, then the fact from which it is drawn must also be false; therefore lunar mountains do not exist! To this I replied as follows. As to the inequalities of the moon’s surface we have only to look through a telescope to be convinced of their existence. As to the “consequences,” I said, they are not only unnecessary, but absolutely false and impossible. For I was in a position to prove that neither mankind, nor animals, nor plants as on this earth, nor anything at all like them can exist on the moon. I said then, and I say now, that I do not believe that the body of the moon is composed of earth and water, and wanting these two elements we must necessarily conclude that it wants all the other things which without these elements cannot exist or subsist. I added further that even allowing that the matter of the moon may be like that of the earth (a most improbable supposition), still not one of those things which the earth produces can exist on the moon. For, to their production other things besides earth and water are necessary, namely, the sun – the greatest agent in Nature – and the resulting variance of heat and cold, and of day and night. Now, such variances are on the moon very different from those on the earth. In the latter case, to produce a diversity of seasons, the sun rises and falls more than 47 degrees (in passing from one tropic to the other). In the former case the variation is only 5 degrees on each side of the ecliptic. While, therefore, on the earth the sun in every 24 hours illuminates all parts of its surface, each half of the moon is alternately in sunshine and darkness for 15 continuous days of 24 hours. Now, if our plants and animals were exposed to ardent sunshine every month for 360 consecutive hours, and then for a similar time were plunged in cold and darkness, they could not possibly preserve themselves, much less produce and multiply. We must, therefore, conclude that what would be impossible on our earth under the circumstances we have supposed to exist, must be impossible on the moon where those conditions do exist.
(8) For Galileo, what are the similarities and differences between the surface of the earth and the surfaces of the moon?
Conflicts with the Bible. In 1611 Galileo went to Rome to demonstrate his telescope to Church officials. He was initially well received thereby encouraged to publish his Letters on the Sunspots (1613) which more directly advocate the Copernican system. However, traditional Aristotelian professors soon lobbied against him, contending that his Copernican views contradicted the Bible. Galileo disagreed, and composed a series of letters intended to be read by Roman officials. One such letter was to his student, Benedetto Castelli (Dec. 21, 1613), in which he argues that the domain of Scripture and religious authority does not cross over into areas of scientific study.
The Bible, although dictated by the Holy Spirit, admits ... in many passages of an interpretation other than the literal one. And, moreover, we cannot maintain with certainty that all interpreters are inspired by God. Therefore, I think it would be the part of wisdom not to allow any one to apply passages of Scripture in such a way as to force them to support as true any conclusions concerning nature, the contrary of which may afterwards be revealed by the evidence of our senses, or by actual demonstration. Who will set bounds to human understanding? Who can assure us that everything that can be known in the world is known already? ... I am inclined to think that Holy Scripture is intended to convince people of those truths which are necessary for their salvation, and which being far above human understanding cannot be made credible by any learning, or by any other means than revelation.
(9) For Galileo, what was God’s intended purpose of scripture?
But it seems to me that I am not bound to believe that the same God who has endowed us with senses, reason, and understanding, does not permit us to use them, and desires to acquaint us in another way [that is, through revelation or religious authority] with such knowledge as we are in a position to acquire for ourselves by means of those faculties. This is especially so concerning those sciences about which the Holy Scriptures contain only small fragments and varying explanations. And this is precisely the case with astronomy, of which there is so little that the planets are not all enumerated, only the sun and moon, and once or twice Venus under the name of Lucifer. This, therefore, being granted, I think that in discussing natural phenomena we ought not to begin with texts from Scripture, but with experiment and demonstration. For, from the Divine Word, both Scripture and Nature do alike proceed. And I can see that that which experience sets before our eyes concerning natural effects, or which demonstration proves to us, ought not on any account to be called in question, much less condemned, upon the testimony of Scriptural texts, which may (under their mere words) have meanings of a contrary nature....
(10) For Galileo, what should be our source of knowledge about astronomy?
To command professors of astronomy that they must themselves see to disproving their own observations and demonstrations is to ask the impossible. For it is not only to command them not to see what they do see, and not to understand what they do understand, but to seek for and to find the contrary. I would beg these wise and prudent Fathers to consider diligently the difference between opinionative and demonstrative doctrines, to the end that they may assure themselves that it is not in the power of professors of demonstrative sciences to change their opinions at pleasure, and adopt first one side and then the other. For, there is a great difference between ordering a mathematician, or a philosopher, as to what opinion to hold, and doing the same with a merchant, or a lawyer. For, demonstrated conclusions touching things of nature and of the heavens cannot be changed with the same facility as opinions touching what is lawful, or not, in a contract, bargain, or bill of exchange.
(11) What is Galileo’s distinction between opinionative and demonstrative doctrines?
Therefore, let such people apply themselves to the study of the arguments of Copernicus and others, and leave the condemning of them as erroneous and heretical to whom it belongs. Yet, as to this latter, they must not hope to find such rash and hurried determinations in the vigilant Holy Fathers, or in the absolute wisdom of him who cannot err [that is, the Pope], as those into which they permit themselves to be hurried by some particular affection or interest of their own. In these, and such like opinions which are not directly articles of faith, certainly no one doubts that his Holiness has always an absolute power of admitting or condemning them. But it is not in the power of any creature to make them to be true or false, otherwise than as, in fact, they are.
(12) What is not within the Pope’s power?
Galileo developed this line of argumentation further and published it in his Letter to the Grand Duchess Christina (1615). In this work he directly addresses the criticism that the Bible says that the sun moves and the earth stands still. He replies that this principle of literal interpretation would have us assign to God feet, hands, eyes, anger, repentance, hatred, ignorance. The Bible was written in a language which condescends to popular capacity. He writes that, “It is necessary for the Bible, in order to be accommodated to the understanding of every person, to speak many things which appear to differ from the absolute truth so far as the bare meaning of the words is concerned.” He also contends that “the Bible intentionally forbore to speak of these things.” He continues in his letter to Benedetto Castelli that Church officials should not presume to tell scientists what they are to believe. Unfortunately, his various defenses failed. In 1616 Galileo was called before Cardinal Bellarmine who ordered him neither hold nor defend the Copernican world system since it was contrary to scripture. However, he was permitted to discuss it as a mathematical hypothesis. He was also forewarned that Copernicus’s system was soon to be officially condemned by the Church. Indeed, the following year, in 1616, the Church decreed the following: “Propositions to be forbidden: that the sun is immovable at the center of the heaven; that the earth is not at the center of the heaven, and is not immovable, but moves by a double motion.”
Dialogues on the Two Chief Systems of the World. Galileo waited for an intellectual Pope to take office before publishing further defenses of the Copernican theory. He thought he found such a person in his friend Pope Urban VIII, who was a lover of the arts. Galileo visited Pope Urban six times in 1624 hoping that he would let his new ideas slowly replace the old. Galileo was permitted to noncommittally discuss both the Ptolemaic and Copernican systems. He was also required to conclude that God could have created the world in any number of ways, and we cannot know which he chose. In accordance, Galileo published his Dialogues on the Two Chief Systems of the World (1632). The work defends the sun-centered system against criticisms from defenders of the earth-centered system. Publishing the work was difficult, but it was immediately successful. In the following selections from the Introduction to the Dialogue, Galileo delicately balances the interests of the Church with his own scientific concerns. He concedes that the Church’s earlier condemnation of Copernicus was made with full knowledge of the scientific facts. In this context, he explains that he is only advancing the Copernican system as a calculating tool.
Some years ago a beneficial edict was proclaimed at Rome, which, in order to hinder the dangerous scandals of the present age, commanded a fitting silence on the Pythagorean opinion of the earth’s motion. Some were uninhibited who rashly asserted that this decree originated, not from a judicious examination, but from an ill-informed passion. Complaints were heard that counselors totally inexperienced in astronomical observations ought not by hasty prohibitions to clip the wings of speculative minds. My zeal could not keep silence when I heard these rash lamentations, and I thought it proper, as being fully informed with regard to that most prudent edict, to appear publicly as a witness of the actual truth. At that time I happened to be in Rome. I was admitted to the audiences, and enjoyed the approval of the most distinguished prelates of that Court. Nor did the publication of the aforesaid decree occur without my receiving some prior indication of it. For that reason, ... collecting together all my own speculations on the Copernican system, it is my intention in this present work to show to foreign nations that the knowledge of this preceded the Roman censures. Thus, from this country proceeded not only dogmas for the salvation of the soul, but also inventive discoveries for the gratification of the understanding. With this object I have taken up in the dialogue the Copernican side of the question, treating it as a pure mathematical hypothesis. I try in every artificial manner to represent it as having the advantage, not over the opinion of the stability of the earth absolutely, but over it as taught and defended by some who profess to be peripatetics [that is, followers of Aristotle]. For they retain only the name [“peripatetic”], and are content, without improvement, to worship shadows, not philosophizing with their own reason, but only from the recollection of four principles imperfectly understood.
(13) Galileo explains that he is not defending the Copernican system over the contention itself that the earth is stable. Instead, what is he defending the Copernican system against?
Unfortunately, Galileo’s presentation of the Copernican theory was still too direct. Pope Urban felt betrayed and Galileo was forced to appear before a tribunal of the universal inquisition. Under threat of torture, he signed a recantation of his position and in 1633 was placed under house arrest for his eight remaining years. During these years, he continued publishing, and corresponding with scientists. He died in 1642.
NEWTON
As the scientific revolution continued, medieval conceptions of the universe were buried even deeper. Such was the result of the contributions by Isaac Newton (1642-1727) who is considered to be among the greatest figures in the history of science. Newton’s childhood years were somewhat unstructured as his father died before he was born, and he was later pulled from school to work on his mother’s farm. Ultimately he continued his education and was awarded the mathematics professorship at Cambridge when he was 26. During these early years, Newton made his three chief scientific discoveries which he refined and published much later. The first was the development of calculus, a mathematical innovation which he termed “fluxions.” The second was his experiments with prisms showing how white light is composed of colored light. The third was the idea of universal gravitation which explained the orbits of the moon and planets. Newton did not publish much, but as his works appeared, he quickly achieved an almost unparalleled fame both within the scientific community and in society at large. He was briefly a member of parliament and resigned his professorship in 1701 when appointed master of the British mint. Soon after he was elected president of the Royal Society, Great Britain’s oldest scientific society, and was re-elected each year until his death in 1727.
Gravity. Newton’s definitive discussion of universal gravity appeared in Principia Mathematica (1687) in which he showed how the laws of gravity explain planetary motion. In addition to his law of universal gravitation, he also proposed three laws of mechanics (inertia; the relation between force, mass and acceleration; and the relation between action and reaction). In the preface to this work he explains his plan.
In the third book we give an example of this in the explication of the system of the world. For, by the propositions mathematically demonstrated in the first book, we there derive from the celestial phenomena the forces of gravity with which bodies tend to the sun and the several planets. Then, from these forces, by other propositions which are also mathematical, we deduce the motions of the planets, the comets, the moon, and the sea. I wish we could derive the rest of the phenomena of nature by the same kind of reasoning from mechanical principles. For I am induced by many reasons to suspect that they may all depend upon certain forces by which the particles of bodies, by some causes hitherto unknown, are either mutually impelled towards each other and cohere in regular figures, or are repelled and recede from each other. Which forces being unknown, philosophers have hitherto attempted the search of nature in vain. But I hope the principles here laid down will afford some either to that or some truer method of philosophy.
(14) Newton proposes to show how the force of gravity directs celestial phenomena. What else does he hope can be demonstrated at some future time?
God’s Role in the Physical Universe. Historians of science today debate about whether Newton believed that God created a completely self-sustaining universe, or whether God was still needed as an active regulating force. In any event, Newton argues that God went to great measures in making it as self-sustaining as it is, and this reflects intelligent design, rather than a blind natural force. For example, even though gravity alone could account for the formation of celestial bodies, God is still needed to explain why some are luminous, such as the sun and stars, and others are not luminous, such as the planets. Newton describes this in the first of a series of four letters to Richard Bentley.
But if the matter [of the universe] was [initially] evenly disposed throughout an infinite space, it could never convene into one mass. But some of it would convene into one mass and some into another, so as to make an infinite number of great masses, scattered at great distances from one to another throughout all that infinite space. And thus might the sun and fixed stars be formed, supposing the [original] matter were of a lucid nature. But how the matter should divide itself into two sorts, and the part of it which is fit to compose a shining body should fall down into one mass and make a sun and the rest which is fit to compose an opaque body should coalesce (not into one great body, like the shining matter, but into many little ones); or if the sun at first were an opaque body like the planets or the planets lucid bodies like the sun, how he alone should be changed into a shining body whilst all they continue opaque (or all they be changed into opaque ones whilst he remainst unchanged), I do not think explicable by mere natural causes, but am forced to ascribe it to the counsel and contrivance of a voluntary agent.
Newton argues further that God’s creative abilities are also seen in the precise motion of the various planets. Only a few differences here or there would throw the planets into irregular orbits. Newton makes this case in a second letter to Bentley.
Were all the planets as swift as Mercury or as slow as Saturn or his satellites [i.e. its moons]; or were the several velocities otherwise much greater or less than they are (as they might have been had they arose from any other cause than their gravities); or had the distances from the centers about which they move been greater or less than they are (as they might have been had they arose from any other cause than their gravities); or had the quantity of matter in the sun or in Saturn, Jupiter, and the earth (and by consequence their gravitating power) been greater or less than it is; [then, in any of these cases,] the primary planets could not have revolved about the sun nor the secondary ones about Saturn, Jupiter, and the earth, in concentric circles as they do, but would have moved in hyperbolas or parabolas or in ellipses very eccentric. To make this system, therefore, with all its motions, required a cause which understood and compared together the quantities of matter in the several bodies of the sun and planets and the gravitating powers resulting from thence.... And to compare and adjust all these things together in so great a variety of bodies, [such a design] argues that cause to be, not blind and fortuitous, but very well skilled in mechanics and geometry.
(15) What kind of skills does God have which enable him to make the motion of the planets so perfect?
IMPLICATIONS OF MODERN ASTRONOMY
There are several important implications of the sun-centered system as developed by Copernicus, Kepler, Galileo, and Newton. First, the conception of the size of the universe shifted from being finite to being infinite. The universe, then, has no center and theologians lose an important symbol illustrating how humans are at the center of God’s creative activity. Indeed, we seem insignificant when set against the infinite backdrop of celestial objects. Second, celestial bodies are no longer eternal, but made of the same stuff as earth. Thus, the heavens lose their other-worldly quality. Third, there are no more teleological explanations of the world: mathematical explanations have us ask how something happens, and not why. Finally, God is no longer an active participant in the daily functioning of the universe. He is the brilliant creator of everything, and evidence of his existence is seen in his creation, but he is now a passive spectator to the physical events he set in motion. The phrase “God of the gaps” is sometimes used to describe the tendency during the scientific revolution to look for divine activity in those areas which science cannot fully explain. As science filled the knowledge gaps during the scientific revolution, the role for divine activity lessened.
E. SCIENTIFIC METHOD
As noted, there were two distinct contributions to the scientific revolution: particular discoveries and the development of the scientific method. This section deals with scientific method. Scientific method is a procedure by which we gain scientific knowledge. Strictly speaking, scientific method aims at discovering new facts. However, such methods were often mixed with methods of proof, which involved demonstrating the validity of one’s conclusion. Methods of investigation and proof were so often combined that, in his Dialogue (1632), Galileo insisted that the two are distinct and the method of proof is not typically the same as the method of investigation. Today, method of investigation is what defines a science and distinguishes it from other academic disciplines such as literature and fine art, and from pseudo-sciences such as parapsychology. But today’s tools of precise scientific investigation developed slowly. Aristotle distinguished between two approaches to gaining scientific knowledge. The first is deduction, which involves a structure of demonstration akin to mathematics. For Aristotle, such demonstrations are achieved with a syllogism, the classic example of which is as follows:
(a) All men are mortal
(b) Socrates is a man
(c) Therefore, Socrates is mortal
The second approach Aristotle notes is induction, in which specific instances are used as evidence for a universal conclusion. Aristotle’s own descriptions of induction vary and are ultimately inadequate for purposes of scientific inquiry. Later philosophers describe induction as “ampliative” in the sense that the conclusion goes beyond what is contained in the premises. An example of ampliative induction is as follows:
(a) Rock 1 falls to the ground when I open my hand
(b) Rock 2 falls to the ground when I open my hand
(c) Therefore, all rocks similar to 1 and 2 will probably fall to the ground when I open my hand
Three principal features distinguish deductive arguments from ampliative inductive arguments. First, inductive arguments add new information in their conclusions, unlike deductive arguments where the conclusion is implicitly contained within the premises. Second, even good inductive arguments do not have absolute certainty, and risk some chance of having a false conclusion; with valid deductive arguments, by contrast, the truth of all premises guarantees the truth of the conclusion. Third, deductive arguments are valid or invalid, with no middle ground; inductive arguments are considered strong or weak and anything in between.
Aristotle also argued that different fields of inquiry require different methods of investigation. The more formal sciences could attain certainty with deductive syllogistic logic. The more empirical sciences could not attain this. Following Aristotle, medieval science employed a disunified collection of scientific approaches. To the extent that formal sciences needed to rise to the level of mathematical certainty, syllogistic deduction was the preferred method. Dissatisfied with the status quo, Renaissance thinkers began almost from scratch in creating methods of scientific inquiry as they streamlined the process of discovery. Many proposed methods were vague, others naive, and most turned out to be dead ends. Some were proposed as techniques exclusively for the physical sciences, and others more broadly for any rational inquiry. The Renaissance philosopher who parted company the most with the Aristotelian and medieval scientific tradition was Francis Bacon who rejected both the deductive syllogistic method and the prevailing opinion that each discipline needed its own method.
BACON AND INDUCTION
Francis Bacon (1561-1626) was born in London into an aristocratic family. Although he became a member of parliament and a counselor to the queen, he was frustrated by his failure to acquire a political position of substantial influence. During his years of political service, Bacon published his famous collection of essays and several works on reorganizing the natural sciences. The most important of the latter was the New Organon (Novum Organum, 1620). In 1621 he was accused of bribery and corruption, to which he ultimately signed a confession of guilt. Although the initial punishment included fines and imprisonment, these were later reduced. Nevertheless, he was unable to return to politics. He spent the remaining five years of his life writing histories and refining his overhaul of the sciences. He died from bronchitis which he contacted while conducting a winter experiment to see if stuffing a dead fowl with snow would inhibit the rotting process.
Bacon’s published and unpublished philosophical writings are best seen as part of his grandiose plan to organize the sciences. This involved a projected, and largely unfinished, six part work called the Instauratio. The plan involved (1) a new division of the sciences, (2) a new method of scientific inquiry, (3) a collection of scientific observations and facts, (4) examples of the new method, (5) philosophical precursors to the new philosophy, and (6) the new philosophy itself which results from applying the new method. The following selections are from Bacon’s New Organon, a work which maybe viewed as a preliminary of Division Two of the Instauratio. The title of the work is taken from Aristotle’s Organon (logical works), and, accordingly, signals a radical departure from the traditional method of scientific inquiry. The text consists of a series of aphorisms which loosely revolve around common themes.
Induction vs. Deduction. In the very first aphorism of the New Organon, Bacon grounds the human understanding in observation and experience. This leads to a harsh rejection of Aristotle’s a priori deductive method. The alternative he proposes is an a posteriori and inductive approach.
1:1. Man, who is the servant and interpreter of nature, can act and understand no further than he has observed in either the operation or the contemplation of the method and order of nature.
1:12. The [deductive] logic now in use serves rather to fix and give stability to the errors which have their foundation in commonly received notions, rather than to help the search after truth. So it does more harm than good.
1:13. The syllogism is no match for the subtlety of nature. Thus, it is not applied to the first principles of sciences, and is applied in vain to intermediate axioms. It commands assent therefore to the [concluding] proposition, but does not take hold of the thing [in nature].
1:18. The discoveries which have previously been made in the sciences are such as lie close to common notions, scarcely beneath the surfaces. In order to penetrate into the inner and further recesses of nature, it is necessary that both notions and axioms be derived from things by a more sure and guarded way. It is necessary that a better and more certain method of intellectual operation be introduced altogether.
1:19. There are and can be only two ways of searching into and discovering truth. The one flies away from the senses and particulars, and instead starts with the most general principles. It simply assumes that the truth of these is settled and immovable. From these general principles it proceeds to judgment and to the discovery of middle principles. And this way is now in fashion. The other way derives general principles from the senses and particulars, rising gradually and continually, so that it arrives at the most general principles last of all. This is the true way, but as yet untried.
(1) For Bacon, which method (inductive or deductive) goes from general to particular, and which goes from particular to general?
1:20. The understanding left to itself follows the first way, which proceeds according to logical order. For the mind longs to spring up to positions of higher generality so that it may find rest there. After a little while it wearies of experiment. But this evil is increased by [deductive] logic, because of the order and solemnity of its disputations.
1:21. The understanding left to itself in a sober, patient, and, grave mind, especially if it is not hindered by received doctrines, tries a little that other way [through induction], which is the right one. However, it has little progress since the understanding is uneven and quite unfit to contend with the obscurity of things – unless it is directed and assisted.
(2) For Bacon, why does the understanding naturally incline toward deductive reasoning?
1:22. Both ways set out from the senses and particulars, and rest in the highest generalities. But the difference between them is infinite. For, the first way just glances at experiment and particulars in passing. The second way dwells duly and orderly among them. The first way, again, begins at once by establishing certain abstract and useless generalities. The second way rises by gradual steps to that which is prior and better known in the order of nature.
The Four Idols. Bacon continues by describing four sources of bias in science. His treatment of these dominates Book One of the New Organon, and indicates the importance he placed on the subject. He refers to these sources of bias as “idols” (idola) and lists them as idols of the tribe (from human nature), idols of the cave (from individual constitution), idols of the marketplace (from words), and idols of the theater (from accepted philosophers).
1:39. There are four classes of Idols which invade people’s minds. To these for distinction’s sake I have assigned names, calling the first class Idols of the Tribe, the second, Idols of the Cave, the third, Idols of the Marketplace, the fourth, Idols of the Theater.
1:40. The formation of ideas and axioms by true induction is no doubt the proper remedy to be applied for the keeping off and clearing away of idols. To point them out, however, is of great use. For the doctrine of Idols is to the Interpretation of Nature what the doctrine of the refutation of sophisms is to common logic.
1:41. The Idols of the Tribe have their foundation in human nature itself, and in the tribe or race of people. For it is a false assertion that the sense of man is the measure of things. On the contrary, all perceptions as well of the sense is of the mind are according to the measure of the individual and not according to the measure of the universe. And the human understanding is like a false mirror which, receiving rays irregularly, distorts and discolors the nature of things by mingling its own nature with it.
(3) Regarding the idols of the tribe, how does human nature affect our perception of the world?
1:42. The Idols of the Cave are the idols of the individual person. For everyone (besides the errors common to human nature in general) has a cave or den of his own, which refracts and discolors the light of nature. This owes either to his own proper and peculiar nature, or to his education and conversation with others, or to the reading of books, and the authority of those whom he esteems and admires, or to the differences of impressions, accordingly as they take place in a mind preoccupied and predisposed or in a mind indifferent and settled, or the like. So that the spirit of humanity (according as it is limited to different individuals) is in fact a variable thing and full of perturbation, and governed as it were by chance. For this reason, it was well observed by Heraclitus that people look for sciences in their own lesser worlds, and not in the greater or common world.
(4) Regarding idols of the cave, how does an individual’s unique mental and physical makeup affect his perception of the world?
1:43. There are also Idols formed by the communication and association of people with each other. I call these Idols of the Marketplace because of the exchange and association of people there. For it is by discourse that people associate. And words are imposed according to the understanding of the common people. And therefore the ill and unfit choice of words wonderfully obstructs the understanding. The matter is not set right by the definitions or explanations of some things which educated people use to guard and defend themselves. But words plainly force and overrule the understanding, and throw all into confusion, and lead men away into numberless empty controversies and idle fancies.
(5) Why does Bacon refer to this third source of bias as idols of the “marketplace”?
1:44. Lastly, there are Idols which have immigrated into people’s minds from the various dogmas of philosophies, and also from wrong laws of demonstration. These I call Idols of the Theater, because in my judgment all the received systems are but so many stage-plays, representing worlds of their own creation after an unreal and scenic fashion. Nor is it only of the systems now in vogue, or only of the ancient sects and philosophies, that I speak. For many more plays of the same kind may yet be composed and in like artificial manner set forth; since errors which are most widely different have nevertheless causes for the most part alike. Neither again do I mean this only of entire systems, but also of many principles and axioms in science, which by tradition, credulity, and negligence have come to be received.
(6) Why does Bacon refer to this fourth source of bias as idols of the “theater”?
The Forms of Things. Aristotle contended that science involves the discovery of a phenomenon’s causes. For example, to understand the nature of heat, we must discover the causes of heat. For Aristotle, this involves uncovering all four of its causes: formal, material, efficient, and final. In spite of Bacon’s harsh rejection of Aristotle’s deductive syllogism, Bacon follows Aristotle by seeing science as the discovery of causes, and, specifically formal causes. According to Bacon, the formal causes of a thing (or, more concisely, its “forms”) are its physical properties. For example, the form of heat is the violent, irregular motion of particles. Thus, by discovering this form of heat, we reveal the scientific nature of heat itself.
2:3. If a person is acquainted with the [general] cause of any nature in certain subjects (such as whiteness or heat) his knowledge is imperfect. And if he is able to bring about an effect on certain substances only (of those susceptible of such an effect), then his power is similarly imperfect. Now, if a person’s knowledge is confined to the efficient and material causes (which are unstable causes, and merely vehicles, or causes which convey the form in certain cases) he may arrive at new discoveries in reference to substances in some degree similar to one another, and selected beforehand. But he does not touch the deeper boundaries of things. But whoever is acquainted with forms, embraces the unity of nature in the most dissimilar substances. He is able therefore to detect and bring to light things never yet done. This could not be accomplished by innovation of nature, nor industry in experimenting, nor accident itself , and would never have occurred to the thought of man. Thus, truth in speculation and freedom in operation result from the discovery of forms.
For Bacon a good set of rules of scientific method will reveal the forms of a thing. He explains what we should expect from a good set of such rules.
2:13?. The two roads to human practice and to human knowledge lie close together, and are nearly the same. Nevertheless, because of the dangerous and ingrained habit of dwelling on abstractions, it is more safe to begin with practice and raise the sciences from those foundations which have relation to practice. We should let our active part itself be the seal which prints and determines our contemplative counterpart. Suppose a person wanted to generate and impose a nature on a given object. We must consider what kind of rule or direction or guidance he would most wish for, and express this rule in the simplest and least intricate language. Suppose, for example, that a person wanted to impose the yellow color of gold upon a silver object, or an increase in weight (observing the laws of matter), or impose transparency on an opaque stone, or tenacity on glass, or vegetation on some substance that is not vegetable. We must therefore consider what kind of rule or guidance he would most desire. First, he will undoubtedly wish to be directed to something which will not deceive him in the result nor fail him in the experiment. Secondly, he will wish for a rule which will not tie him down to specific means and particular modes of operation. For it is possible that he might not have those means available, nor be able to conveniently procure them. And if there are other means and other methods for producing the required nature (besides the one recommended) these may perhaps be within his reach. And yet he will be excluded by the narrowness of the rule, and get no good from them. Thirdly, he will desire something to be shown him, which is not as difficult as the thing proposed to be done, but comes nearer to practice.
Thus a true and perfect rule of operation and direction will be that it is certain, free, and leads to action.
(7) What are the three things that a good rule of scientific method should accomplish?
And this is the same thing with the discovery of the true form. For the form of a nature is such, that given the form the nature necessarily follows. Therefore it is always present when the nature is present, and universally applies it, and is consistently inherent in it. Again, the form is such that if it is taken away, then the nature necessarily disappears. Therefore it is always absent when the nature is absent, and implies its absence, and inheres in nothing else. A final feature [of a good rule of scientific investigation] is that the true form deduces the given nature [e.g. heat] from some source of being which is inherent in more natures, and which is better known in the natural order of things than the form itself. For a true and perfect axiom of knowledge and direction will be that another nature will be discovered which is convertible with the given nature [e.g. heat], and yet is a limitation of a more general nature [e.g. violent, irregular motion] , as of a true and real genus.
In contemporary terminology, the fourth aspect of a good rule of scientific method is that it will lead to the discovery of the necessary and sufficient conditions of a given nature (such as heat). The forms, then, are those necessary and sufficient conditions (such as violent, irregular motion of particles).
Tables of Comparative Instances. Having maintained that the job of science is to uncover a thing’s forms, Bacon finally explains the inductive method by which this is done. Bacon’s specific inductive methodology is presented in what he describes as three “Tables of Comparative Instances” which involve presence, absence and degree. The “Table of Presence” (agreement) involves examining instances in which the same phenomenon is present, and noting what other circumstances are in common. For example, to understand the forms involved with heat, we examine all hot things and see what circumstance is in common (e.g. irregular motion of particles).
2:11. The investigation of forms proceeds as follows. A nature is given [e.g. heat], and we must first of all collect and present to our understanding all known instances which have this particular nature [e.g. all hot things], even in substances which are dissimilar. And such a collection must be made in the manner of a history, without premature speculation, or any great amount of subtlety. For example let the investigation be into the form of heat.
Instances agreeing in the nature of heat:
1. The rays of the sun, especially in summer and at noon.
2. The rays of the sun reflected and condensed, as between mountains, or on walls, and most of all in burning-glasses and mirrors.
3. Fiery meteors.
4. Burning thunderbolts.
5 Eruptions of flame from the cavities of mountains.
...
27. Even keen and intense cold produces a kind of sensation of burning.
28. Other instances.
This table I call the “Table of Essence and Presence.”
The second Table, the “Table of Absence,” involves examining instances in which a phenomenon is absent, and noting what circumstances are in common. Thus, to understand heat, for example, we must examine a list of cold things too, and see what features are irrelevant to the production of heat (e.g. density).
2:12. Secondly, we must present to the understanding those instances in which a given nature is wanting. This is because, as stated above, the above form should no less to be absent when the given nature is absent, than present when it is present. But to note all these would be endless.
The negatives should therefore be attached to the affirmatives, and the absence of the given nature [e.g. heat] inquired of only in those subjects that are most close to the others in which it is present and forthcoming. This I call the “Table of Deviation,” or of “Absence in Proximity.”
Instances in proximity where the nature of heat is absent:
1. To the first [on the above chart]: The rays of the moon and of stars and comets are not found to be hot to the touch; indeed the severest colds are observed to be at the full moons.
...
32. To the 27th [on the above chart]: There are many actions common both to heat and cold, though in a very different manner. For children find that snow after a while seems to burn their hands. Cold preserves meat from rotting, no less than fire. Heat contracts bodies, which cold does also. But these and similar instances may more conveniently be addressed by an inquiry concerning cold.
(8) For the Table of Absence, why does Bacon suggest that we examine only those instances which are similar to those on the Table of Presence (yet lack the property in question, such as heat)?
Finally, the “Table of Degrees” involves examining instances in which a phenomenon is present in varying degrees, noting what circumstances also vary. For example, to understand heat, we must look at things which are at different temperatures and note what circumstances are present in varying degrees (e.g. slow to rapid irregular motion of particles).
2:13. Thirdly we must present to the understanding instances in which the nature under inquiry is found in different degrees, more or less. This must be done by making a comparison either of its increase and decrease in the same subject, or of its amount in different subjects, as compared one with another. For, the form of a thing is the very thing itself. And the thing itself differs from the form no differently than as the apparent differs from the real, or the external from the internal, or the thing in reference to mankind from the thing in reference to the universe. Thus, it necessarily follows that no nature can be assumed to be the true form unless it always decreases when the nature in question decreases, and in like manner always increases when the nature in question increases. Therefore, this Table I call the “Table of Degrees” or the “Table of Comparison.”
Table of Degrees or Comparison in heat.
...
25. Some ignited bodies are found to be much hotter than some flames. Ignited iron, for instance, is much hotter and more consuming than flame of spirit of wine.
26. Of substances also which are not ignited but only heated by fire, as boiling water and air confined in furnaces, some are found to exceed in heat many flames and ignited substances.
27. Motion increases heat, as you may see in bellows, and by blowing. This is in view of the fact that harder metals are not dissolved or melted by a dead or quiet fire until it is made intense by blowing.
...
Inductive inference. By constructing all three Tables of Instances, we thereby eliminate irrelevant properties (such as density) and pinpoint the essential properties (such as irregular motion of particles). This, for Bacon, is true induction.
2:15. The work and office of these three tables I call the “Presentation of Instances to the Understanding.” Once this presentation is made, induction itself must be set at work. For, upon a review of each and every instance, the problem is to find such a nature that is always present or absent with the given nature [e.g. heat], and always increases and decreases with it, and which is (as I have said) a particular case of a more general nature. Now if the mind attempts this affirmatively from the beginning, as when left to itself as it always is inclined to do, the result will be fancies and guesses and poorly defined notions, and axioms that must be mended everyday....
2:16. ... Therefore, the first work of induction (as regards the discovery of forms) is the rejection or exclusion of the several natures which are not found in some instance where the given nature is present, or are found in some instance where the given nature is absent, or are found to increase some instance when the given nature decreases, or to decrease when the given nature increases. Then indeed after the rejection and exclusion has been duly made, there will remain at the bottom an affirmative, solid, true, and well defined form; all superficial opinions will have vanish into smoke. This is quickly said. But the way to come at it is winding and intricate.
(9) What is the first work of induction?
Bacon recognized that we cannot examine an endless number of instances for the three tables. At some point we must stop and survey the instances so far. This review he calls the “first vintage.”
MATHEMATICS AND SCIENTIFIC METHOD
Although Bacon is considered the father of scientific method, his tables of instances were not adopted by the scientific community of his day. Further, over 200 years passed before inductive reasoning was more precisely formulated by J.S. Mill in his System of Logic (1843). Meanwhile, other scientists and philosophers followed alternative methods of investigation. One broad approach to both scientific method and proof was simply to use mathematics as a means of expanding the boundaries of knowledge. Like Bacon’s method, this mathematical approach abandons Aristotle’s syllogism. However, it remains just as deductive as the syllogism. Kepler, for example, never articulated a formal method of investigation, but was driven by the Pythagorean view that mathematical relationships determined the structure of the universe. Thus, for him, knowledge of the world was gained by making deductions from a priori numerical principles. Galileo also insisted on the centrality of mathematics in understanding the physical world. In perhaps his most famous statement he asserts that the “Book of Nature is written in mathematical characters” (The Assayer, 1623). Similarly, in The Laws of Chance (1657), Christian Huygens writes,
There are very few things which we know which are not capable of being reduced to a mathematical reasoning. And when they cannot, it is a sign our knowledge of them is very small and confused. And where a mathematical reasoning can be had, it is as great folly to make use of any other as to grope for a thing in the dark when you have a candle standing by you.
Books appeared regularly which used arithmetical calculations in a variety of disciplines. William Petty applied mathematics to political science in his Political Arithmetic (1690). Francis Hutcheson adopted this method for ethics in his Inquiry Concerning Moral Good and Evil (1725). Perhaps the most absurd illustration of this kind was John Craig’s Mathematical Principles of Christian Theology (1699) in which he deduces the approximate time of the second coming of Christ:
It is necessary that Christ come before 1454 years elapse. For it is necessary the Christ come before the probability of the Gospel story vanishes; but that probability will perish when 1454 years (=3150-1696) have elapsed from our time.... And in no time less than 1454 years is it necessary for him to come, insofar as his arrival depends upon the disappearance of the probability of his history.
Other deductive methods used geometrical systems of definitions, axioms and propositions. Descartes, Spinoza and Leibniz all used this technique in discussions of traditional philosophical issues. In Descartes’ case, however, he wrote a discourse explaining his specific method.
DESCARTES’ METHODS
French philosopher and mathematician René Descartes (1596-1650) was an active participant in the scientific revolution in both scientific method and in particular discoveries. Descartes was educated at a Jesuit college which was firmly grounded in the scholastic tradition. After furthering his education in Paris, he enlisted in the Dutch and, later, the Barvarian militaries. In 1629 Descartes moved to Holland where he lived in seclusion for 20 years, changing his residence frequently to preserve his privacy. During this period he produced the writings upon which his fame rests. His studies were first restricted to science, and only later did he explore metaphysics. In 1649 Descartes moved to Stockholm at the request of Queen Christina of Sweden who employed him as a philosophy tutor. Christina scheduled the lectures at 5 A.M. The early hours and harsh climate took their toll on Descartes’ already weakened condition. He died shortly after in 1650. During his life, Descartes’ fame rose to such an extent that many Catholics believed he would be a candidate for sainthood. As his body was transported from Sweden back to France, anxious relic collectors along the path removed pieces of his body. By the time his body reached France, it was considerably reduced in size.
Descartes’ first discussion of scientific method is in an unfinished work of 1628 titled Rules for the Direction of the Mind. The first 12 of the planned 36 rules deal with the general aspects of his proposed methodology, and are considered early versions of principles which made their way into his later writings. In 1633 Descartes prepared for publication a work on physics called Le Monde which defended a heliocentric view of the universe. That same year the Catholic Church condemned Galileo’s Dialogue (1632). Descartes did not think Galileo’s views were prejudicial to religion and he worried that his own views might be censured. Thus he suspended publication of it. In 1637 Descartes published a collection of essays titled Optics, Meterology, and Geometry. Prefaced to these essays was a work titled “Discourse on the Method of Rightly Conducting the Reason and Seeking Truth in the Sciences.” Most of the “Discourse” was written before the 1633 condemnation of Galileo’s Dialogue. However, he later added a concluding section which explained that he insisted on publishing, in spite of political risks. The simple reason was that he counted on the public to help confirm his scientific theories. In the Discourse, Descartes offers a method of inquiry quite different from Bacon’s. Whereas Bacon advocated induction, Descartes insists on a more deductive approach.
Aim of the Discourse. Descartes opens by highlighting the value which his method of investigation has had in his own investigations.
... I shall not hesitate to say that I have had great good fortune from my youth up, in lighting upon and pursuing certain paths which have conducted me to considerations and maxims from which I have formed a Method. With the assistance of this method it appears to me I have the means of gradually increasing my knowledge and of little by little raising it to the highest possible point which the mediocrity of my talents and the brief duration of my life call permit me to reach. For I have already reaped from it fruits of such a nature that, even though I always try in the judgments I make on myself to lean to the side of self-depreciation rather than to that of arrogance, and though, looking with the eye of a philosopher on the diverse actions and enterprises of all mankind, I find scarcely any which do not seem to me vain and useless, I do not cease to receive extreme satisfaction in the progress which I seem to have already made in the search after truth, and to form such hopes for the future as to venture to believe that, if amongst the occupations of men, simply as men, there is some one in particular that is excellent and important, that is the one which I have selected.
It must always be recollected, however, that possibly I deceive myself, and that what I take to be gold and diamonds is perhaps no more than copper and glass. I know how subject we are to delusion in whatever touches ourselves, and also how much the judgments of our friends ought to be suspected when they are in our favor. But in this Discourse I shall be very happy to show the paths I have followed, and to set forth my life as in a picture, so that everyone may judge of it for himself; and thus in learning from the common talk what are the opinions which are held of it, a new means of obtaining self-instruction will be reached, which I shall add to those which I have been in the habit of using.
Thus my design is not here to teach the Method which everyone should follow in order to promote the good conduct of his Reason, but only to show in what manner I have endeavored to conduct my own. Those who set about giving precepts must esteem themselves more skillful than those to whom they advance them, and if they fall short in the smallest matter they must of course take the blame for it. But regarding this Treatise simply as a history, or, if you prefer it, a fable in which, amongst certain things which may be imitated, there are possibly others also which it would not be right to follow, I hope that it will be of use to some without being hurtful to any, and that all will thank me for my frankness.
(10) Descartes notes that he is not teaching a method which everyone should follow. What, instead, is he doing?
Replacing the Old with the New. Most of the Discourse is autobiographical insofar as it traces Descartes intellectual development and how his method assisted him in his investigations. Descartes realized that he needed to reject much of the teachings of his youth. This raised the question as to exactly how he should proceed in replacing old theories with new ones. He found his answer by observing how old parts of cities are replaced with the new.
I was then in Germany, to which country I had been attracted by the wars which are not yet at an end. And as I was returning from the coronation of the Emperor to join the army, the setting in of winter detained me in a quarter where, since I found no society to divert me, while fortunately I had also no cares or passions to trouble me, I remained the whole day shut up alone in a stove-heated room, where I had complete leisure to occupy myself with my own thoughts. One of the first of the considerations that occurred to me was that there is very often less perfection in works composed of several portions, and carried out by the hands of various masters, than in those on which one individual alone has worked. Thus we see that buildings planned and carried out by one architect alone are usually more beautiful and better proportioned than those which many have tried to put in order and improve, making use of old walls which were built with other ends in view. In the same way also, those ancient cities which, originally mere villages, have become in the process of time great towns, are usually badly constructed in comparison with those which are regularly laid out on a plain by a surveyor who is free to follow his own ideas. Even though, considering their buildings each one apart, there is often as much or more display of skill in the one case than in the other, the former have large buildings and small buildings indiscriminately placed together, thus rendering the streets crooked and irregular, so that it might be said that it was chance rather than the will of men guided by reason that led to such an arrangement. And if we consider that this happens despite the fact that from all time there have been certain officials who have had the special duty of looking after the buildings of private individuals in order that they may be public ornaments, we shall understand how difficult it is to bring about much that is satisfactory in operating only upon the works of others.
(11) Which kinds of cities are better and more organized than others?
Thus I imagined that those people who were once half-ravaged, and who have become civilized only by slow degrees, merely forming their laws as the disagreeable necessities of their crimes and quarrels constrained them, could not succeed in establishing so good a system of government as those who, from the time they first came together as communities, carried into effect the constitution laid down by some prudent legislator. Thus it is quite certain that the constitution of the true Religion whose ordinances are of God alone is incomparably better regulated than any other. And, to come down to human affairs, I believe that if Sparta was very flourishing in former times, this was not because of the excellence of each and every one of its laws, seeing that many were very strange and even contrary to good morals, but because, being drawn up by one individual, they all tended towards the same end.
(12) Which kinds of laws are better and more organized than others?
And similarly I thought that the sciences found in books-in those at least whose reasonings are only probable and which have no demonstrations – composed as they are of the gradually accumulated opinions of many different individuals – do not approach so near to the truth as the simple reasoning which a man of common sense can quite naturally carry out respecting the things which come immediately before him. Again I thought that since we have all been children before being men, and since it has for long fallen to us to be governed by our appetites and by our teachers (who often enough contradicted one another, and none of whom perhaps counseled us always for the best), it is almost impossible that our judgments should be so excellent or solid as they should have been had we had complete use of our reason since our birth, and had we been guided by its means alone.
(13) Which kinds of scientific theories are better and more organized than others?
It is true that we do not find that all the houses in a town are leveled to the ground for the sole reason that the town is to be rebuilt in another fashion, with streets made more beautiful; but at the same time we see that many people cause their own houses to be knocked down in order to rebuild them, and that sometimes they are forced so to do where there is danger of the houses falling of themselves, and when the foundations are not secure. From such examples I argued to myself that there was no plausibility in the claim of any private individual to reform a state by altering everything, and by overturning it throughout, in order to set it right again. Nor is it likewise probable that the whole body of the Sciences, or the order of teaching established by the Schools, should be reformed. But as regards all the opinions which up to this time I had embraced, I thought I could not do better than try once and for all to sweep them completely away, so that they might later on be replaced, either by others which were better, or by the same, when I had made them conform to the uniformity of a rational scheme. And I firmly believed that by this means I should succeed in directing my life much better than if I had only built on old foundations, and relied on principles of which I allowed myself to be in youth persuaded without having inquired into their truth.
(14) For Descartes, what is the best way to replace old teachings with new ones?
For although in so doing I recognized various difficulties, these were at the same time not insurmountable, nor comparable to those which are found in reformation of the most insignificant kind in matters which concern the public. In the case of great bodies it is too difficult a task to raise them again when they are once thrown down, or even to keep them in their places when once thoroughly shaken. And their fall cannot be otherwise than very violent. Then as to any imperfections that they may possess (and the very diversity that is found between them is sufficient to tell us that these in many cases exist) custom has doubtless greatly lightened them, while it has also helped us to avoid, or insensibly corrected a number against which mere foresight would have found it difficult to guard. And finally the imperfections are almost always more supportable than would be the process of removing them, just as the great roads which wind about amongst the mountains become, because of being frequented, little by little so well-beaten and easy that it is much better to follow them than to try to go more directly by climbing over rocks and descending to the foot of precipices.
(15) What are some of the obstacles involved with replacing the old with the new?
Four Rules of Scientific Method. Descartes explains that he had learned a variety of methodological approaches in a variety of disciplines. They all had limits, though. Syllogistic logic, he believes, only communicates what we already know. Geometry and algebra are either too abstract in nature for practical application, or too restricted to the shapes of bodies. However, he believed that a more condensed and universal list of methodological rules was better than a lengthy and varied list.
In my younger days, I had studied Logic, to a certain extent, among the different branches of Philosophy. I had also studied Mathematics, Geometrical Analysis and Algebra-three arts or sciences which seemed as though they ought to contribute something to the design I had in view. But in examining them I observed in respect to Logic that the syllogisms and the greater part of the other teaching served better in explaining to others those things that one knows (or like the art of Lully, in enabling one to speak without judgment of those things of which one is ignorant) than in learning what is new. And although in reality Logic contains many precepts which are very true and very good, there are at the same time mingled with them so many others which are hurtful or superfluous, that it is almost as difficult to separate the two as to draw a Diana or a Minerva out of a block of marble which is not yet roughly hewn. And as to the Analysis of the ancients and the Algebra of the moderns, besides the fact that they embrace only matters the most abstract, such as appear to have no actual use, the former is always so restricted to the consideration of symbols that it cannot exercise the Understanding without greatly fatiguing the imagination; and in the latter one is so subjected to certain rules and formulas that the result is the construction of an art which is confused and obscure, and which embarrasses the mind, instead of a science which contributes to its cultivation. This made me feel that some other Method must be found, which, comprising the advantages of the three, is yet exempt from their faults. And as a multiplicity of laws often furnishes excuses for evil-doing, and as a State is hence much better ruled when, having but very few laws, these are most strictly observed. So, instead of the great number of precepts of which Logic is composed, I believed that I should find the four which I shall state quite sufficient, provided that I adhered to a firm and constant resolve never on any single occasion to fail in their observance.
The first of these was to accept nothing as true which I did not clearly recognize to be so; that is to say, carefully to avoid precipitation and prejudice in judgments, and to accept in them nothing more than what was presented to my mind so clearly and distinctly that I could have no occasion to doubt it.
The second was to divide up each of the difficulties which I examined into as many parts as possible, and as seemed requisite in order that it might be resolved in the best manner possible.
The third was to carry on my reflections in due order, commencing with objects that were the most simple and easy to understand, in order to rise little by little, or by degrees, to knowledge of the most complex, assuming an order, even if a fictitious one, among those which do not follow a natural sequence relatively to one another.
The last was in all cases to make enumerations so complete and reviews so general that I should be certain of having omitted nothing.
(16) Briefly, what are the four rules Descartes offers?
Descartes’ method, as expressed in the above rules, rests on three mental operations: intuition, deduction, and enumeration. These three abilities constitute our human reason. Intuition involves directly apprehending the simplest components (or “simple natures”) of a subject matter. Deduction is not syllogistic, but a process of inferring necessary relations between simple natures. Enumeration is a process of review which we use when deductions become so long that we risk error due to a faulty memory.
Descartes continues by explaining how use of this method in science led him to the discovery of analytic geometry and a system of the cosmos similar to Galileo’s. In philosophy, he deduced God’s existence, the existence of the external world, and the distinction between the human mind and body. As noted above, Bacon parted company with medieval scientists by offering a single scientific methodology which encompassed all sciences. Descartes goes one step further than Bacon and presents a method which can be used in any rational inquiry – including metaphysics – and not just the natural sciences.
Provisional Code of Morals. In tearing down old systems and replacing them with new ones, Descartes realized that he needed a provisional set of moral guidelines to carry him through the transition. He presents four such rules.
And finally, as it is not sufficient, before commencing to rebuild the house which we inhabit, to pull it down and provide materials and an architect (or to act in this capacity ourselves, and make a careful drawing of its design), unless we have also provided ourselves with some other house where we can be comfortably lodged during the time of rebuilding, so in order that I should not remain irresolute in my actions while reason obliged me to be so in my judgments, and that I might not omit to carry on my life as happily as I could, I formed for myself a code of morals for the time being which did not consist of more than three or four maxims, which maxims I should like to enumerate to you.
The first was to obey the laws and customs of my country, adhering constantly to the religion in which by God’s grace I had been instructed since my childhood, and in all other things directing my conduct by opinions the most moderate in nature, and the farthest removed from excess in all those which are commonly received and acted on by the most judicious of those with whom I might come in contact. For since I began to count my own opinions as naught, because I desired to place all under examination, I was convinced that I could not do better than follow those held by people on whose judgment reliance could be placed. And although such persons may possibly exist amongst the Persians and Chinese as well as amongst ourselves, it seemed to me that it was most expedient to bring my conduct into harmony with the ideas of those with whom I should have to live; and that, in order to ascertain that these were their real opinions, I should observe what they did rather than what they said, not only because in the corrupt state of our manners there are few people who desire to say all that they believe, but also because many are themselves ignorant of their beliefs. For since the act of thought by which we believe a thing is different from that by which we know that we believe it, the one often exists without the other. And amongst many opinions all equally received, I chose only the most moderate, both because these are always most suited for putting into practice, and probably the best (for all excess has a tendency to be bad), and also because I should have in a less degree turned aside from the right path, supposing that I was wrong, than if, having chosen an extreme course, I found that I had chosen amiss. I also made a point of counting as excess all the engagements by means of which we limit in some degree our liberty. Not that I hold in low esteem those laws which, in order to remedy the inconstancy of feeble souls, permit, when we have a good object in our view, that certain vows be taken, or contracts made, which oblige us to carry out that object. This sanction is even given for security in commerce where designs are wholly indifferent. But because I saw nothing in all the world remaining constant, and because for my own part I promised myself gradually to get my judgments to grow better and never to grow worse, I should have thought that I had committed a serious sin against commonsense if, because I approved of something at one time, I was obliged to regard it similarly at a later time, after it had possibly ceased to meet my approval, or after I had ceased to regard it in a favorable light.
(17) What is his first moral maxim?
My second maxim was that of being as firm and resolute in my actions as I could be, and not to follow less faithfully opinions the most dubious, when my mind was once made up regarding them, than if these had been beyond doubt. In this I should be following the example of travelers, who, finding themselves lost in a forest, know that they ought not to wander first to one side and then to the other, nor, still less, to stop in one place, but understand that they should continue to walk as straight as they can in one direction, not diverging for any slight reason, even though it was possibly chance alone that first determined them in their choice. By this means if they do not go exactly where they wish, they will at least arrive somewhere at the end, where probably they will be better off than in the middle of a forest. And thus since often enough in the actions of life no delay is permissible, it is very certain that, when it is beyond our power to discern the opinions which carry most truth, we should follow the most probable; and even although we notice no greater probability in the one opinion than in the other, we at least should make up our minds to follow a particular one and afterwards consider it as no longer doubtful in its relationship to practice, but as very true and very certain, inasmuch as the reason, which caused us to determine upon it is known to be so. And henceforward this principle was sufficient to deliver me from all the penitence and remorse which usually affect the mind and agitate the conscience of those weak and vacillating creatures who allow themselves to keep changing their procedure, and practice as good, things which they afterwards judge to be evil.
(18) What is his second moral maxim?
My third maxim was to try always to conquer myself rather than fortune, and to alter my desires rather than change the order of the world, and generally to accustom myself to believe that there is nothing entirely within our power but our own thoughts: so that after we have done our best in regard to the things that are without us, our ill-success cannot possibly be failure on our part. And this alone seemed to me sufficient to prevent my desiring anything in the future beyond what I could actually obtain, hence rendering me content; for since our will does not naturally induce us to desire anything but what our understanding represents to it as in some way possible of attainment, it is certain that if we consider all good things which are outside of us as equally outside of our power, we should not have more regret in resigning those goods which appear to pertain to our birth, when we are deprived of them for no fault of our own, than we have in not possessing the kingdoms of China or Mexico. ...
(19) What is his fourth moral maxim?
And last of all, to conclude this moral code, I felt it incumbent on me to make a review of the various occupations of men in this life in order to try to choose out the best. And without wishing to say anything of the employment of others, I thought that I could not do better than continue in the one in which I found myself engaged. That is to say, I occupy my whole life in cultivating my Reason, and in advancing myself as much as possible in the knowledge of the truth in accordance with the method which I had prescribed myself. I had experienced so much satisfaction since beginning to use this method, that I did not believe that any sweeter or more innocent could in this life be found, every day discovering by its means some truths which seemed to me sufficiently important, although commonly ignored by other men. ...
(20) What is his last moral maxim?
Although Descartes’ method had its advocates, it was also criticized by his contemporaries, such as the mathematician Pierre de Fermat, and ultimately dismissed. Leibniz says that Descartes’ rules amount to saying “take what you need, and do what you should, and you will get what you want.”
NEWTON’S METHOD OF INVESTIGATION
As noted, practicing scientists of the day had intuitions and even rules of thumb about how to advance scientific knowledge. Newton, too, had such rules which he clearly articulated in two separate writings.
Rules of Reasoning in Philosophy. At the outset of Principia Mathematica, Newton proposes “Four Rules of Reasoning in Philosophy,” which are his first proposed rules of scientific method. Like Bacon, Newton appears to follow Aristotle’s contention that science is the discovery of causes, as seen specifically in the first two rules below. The first rule advocates a version of Ockham’s razor, insofar as we should not multiply explanatory causes beyond necessity. The second rule is that from the same effects we infer the same causes. This is a foundational notion in inductive arguments from analogy, and was extensively used by 18th century British philosopher David Hume (1711-1776).
Rule 1: We are to admit no more causes of natural things than such as are both true and sufficient to explain their appearances.
To this purpose the philosophers say that nature does nothing in vain, and more is in vain when less will serve. For nature is pleased with simplicity and affects not the pomp of superfluous causes.
Rule 2: Therefore to the same natural effects we must, as far as possible, assign the same causes.
As to respiration in a man and in a beast, the descent of stones in Europe and in America, the light of our culinary fire and of the sun, the reflection of light in the earth and in the planets.
Rule 3. The qualities of bodies, which admit neither intensification nor remission of degrees, and which are found to belong to all bodies within the reach of our experiments, are to be esteemed the universal qualities of all bodies whatsoever.
For since the qualities of bodies are only known to us by experiments, we are to hold for universal all such as universally agree with experiments, and such as are not liable to diminution can never be quite taken away. ...
Rule 4. In experimental philosophy we are to look upon propositions inferred by general induction from phenomena as accurately or very nearly true, notwithstanding any contrary hypotheses that may be imagined, till such time as other phenomena occur by which they may either be made more accurate or liable to exceptions.
This rule we must follow, that the argument of induction may not be evaded by hypotheses.
(21) In rule four above, what is the only thing which can reverse a conclusion which one arrives at through induction?
Method of Analysis. Newton’s second, third, and fourth rules above deal with aspects of inductive reasoning. In his Optics (1704) Newton amplified his account of induction, particularly as appears in rule four above. He describes the inductive scientific process as a method of analysis. Newton first experimented with optics in 1666. The old view of optics, since Aristotle, was that light becomes modified when passing through a prism. Newton’s explanation was that white light becomes separated into a spectrum. As a proof, he showed that once these colors were separated, they could not be further separated by passing it through other prisms. Further, he could recombine colored light into white light. He finally published his results in the Optics. For Newton, scientific reasoning of this sort underscores the importance of method for scientists. The following discussion of his method of analysis is from Optics, Book 3, Queries.
As in mathematics, so in natural philosophy the investigation of difficult things by the method of analysis ought ever to precede the method of composition. This analysis consists in making experiments and observations, and in drawing general conclusions from them by induction, and admitting of no objections against the conclusions but such as are taken from experiments or other certain truths. For, hypotheses are not to be regarded in experimental philosophy. And although the arguing from experiments and observations by induction be no demonstration of general conclusions, yet it is the best way of arguing which the nature of things admits of, and may be looked upon as so much the stronger by how much the induction is more general. And if no exception occurs from phenomena, the conclusion may be pronounced generally. But if at any time afterwards any exception shall occur from experiments, it may then begin to be pronounced with such exceptions as occur. By this way of analysis we may proceed from compounds to ingredients, and from motions to the forces producing them, and, in general, from effects to their causes, and from particular causes to more general ones, until the argument ends in the most general. This is the method of analysis, and the synthesis consists in assuming the causes discovered and established as principles, and by them explaining the phenomena proceeding from them and proving the explanations.
(22) What is Newton’s attitude about the use of hypotheses in scientific investigation?
In his essay, “A Discourse on Descartes’ Method,” Contemporary philosopher Jaakko Hintikka summarizes Newton’s method of analysis as follows: (1) the analysis of a complex phenomenon into ingredients; (2) the experimental or observational discovery of dependencies between different ingredients; (3) the inductive generalization of these dependencies to all similar cases; and, (4) the deductive application of the generalization to other cases. According to Hintikka, this method of analysis is not unique to Newton. Indeed, many modern philosophers and scientists followed this procedure, including Galileo and even Descartes. He argues further that the method of analysis was initially used in Greek mathematics, specifically by Pappus (fl. 4th cn. CE) in his work Mathematical Collections.
F. POLITICAL THOUGHT
THOMAS HOBBES: THE SOCIAL CONTRACT. In Plato’s dialogue The Republic, one of the characters argues that the laws of justice are created in a compact between people who instinctively exploit one another. Since no one likes to be exploited, each person agrees not to exploit others on the condition that others do not exploit him. This is the central idea of social contract theory – also called contractarianism. British philosopher Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679) presents the definitive statement of social contract theory in his book The Leviathan (1651). The starting point for Hobbes’s moral theory is the psychological position that humans are essentially machines that are motivated by self-interest. In the chapter on ethics earlier in this book we examined Hobbes’s argument that every action we perform, no matter how charitable or benevolent, is done for reasons that are ultimately self-serving. For example, when I donate to charity, I am actually taking delight in demonstrating my powers over other people. In its most extreme form, this view of human nature has since been termed psychological egoism. Hobbes believes that any account of human action, including morality, must be consistent with the fact that we are all self-serving. Hobbes speculates about how selfish people would behave in a state of nature, prior to the formation of any government. The following is from Leviathan Chapters 13-15.
The State of Nature: Equality, Quarrel and War. Hobbes begins by noting that humans are essentially equal, both mentally and physically, insofar as even the weakest person has the strength to kill the strongest.
Nature has made men so equal in the faculties of body and mind, as that though there be found one man sometimes manifestly stronger in body or of quicker mind than another, yet when all is reckoned together, the difference between man and man is not so considerable as that one man can thereupon claim to himself any benefit to which another may not pretend as well as he. For as to the strength of body, the weakest has strength enough to kill the strongest, either by secret machination or by confederacy with others that are in the same danger with himself.
As to the faculties of the mind . . . I find yet a greater equality among men than that of strength. For prudence is but experience, which equal time equally bestows on all men in those things they equally apply themselves to. That which may perhaps make such equality incredible, is but a vain conceit of one’s own wisdom which almost all men think they have in a greater degree than the vulgar, that is, than all men but themselves and a few others whom by fame, or for concurring with themselves, they approve. For such is the nature of men, that howsoever they may acknowledge many others to be more witty, or more eloquent, or more learned, yet they will hardly believe there be many so wise as themselves; for they see their own wit at hand, and other men’s at a distance. But this proves rather that men are in that point equal, than unequal. For there is not ordinarily a greater sign of the equal distribution of anything, than that every man is contented with his share.
(1) How is it that people are equal in body?
(2) How is it that people are equal in mind?
Hobbes continues noting by how situations in nature make us naturally prone to quarrel. There are three natural causes of quarrel: competition for limited supplies of material possessions, distrust of one another, and “glory,” insofar as people remain hostile to preserve their powerful reputation.
From this equality of ability arises equality of hope in the attaining of our ends. And therefore if any two men desire the same thing, which nevertheless they cannot both enjoy, they become enemies. And in the way to their end (which is principally their own conservation, and sometimes their own delectation only), [they] endeavor to destroy or subdue one another. And from hence it comes to pass that where an invader has no more to fear than another man’s single power, if one plants, sows, builds, or possesses a convenient seat, others may probably be expected to come prepared with forces united, to dispossess and deprive him, not only of the fruit of his labor, but also of his life or liberty. And the invader again is in the like danger of another.
And from this diffidence [or distrust] of one another, there is no way for any man to secure himself so reasonably as [through] anticipation. That is, by force or wiles, to master the persons of all men he can, so long till he sees no other power great enough to endanger him. And this is no more than his own conservation requires, and is generally allowed. Also because there be some, that taking pleasure in contemplating their own power in the acts of conquest (which they pursue farther than their security requires); if others, that otherwise would be glad to be at ease within modest bounds, should not by invasion increase their power, they would not be able [for a] long time (by standing only on their defense) to subsist. And by consequence, such augmentation of dominion over men, being necessary to a man’s conservation, it ought to be allowed him.
Again, men have no pleasure (but on the contrary a great deal of grief) in keeping company where there is no power able to over-awe them all. For every man looks that his companion should value him at the same rate he sets upon himself. And upon all signs of contempt or undervaluing, [he] naturally endeavors, as far as he dares . . . to extort a greater value from his contemners [or scorners] by damage, and from others by example.
So that in the nature of man, we find three principle causes of quarrel. First, competition; secondly, diffidence [or distrust]; thirdly, glory. The first makes men invade for gain, the second for safety, and the third for reputation. The first uses violence to make themselves masters of other men’s persons, wives, children, and cattle; the second to defend them; the third for trifles, [such] as a word, a smile, a different opinion, and any other sign of undervalue, either direct in their persons, or by reflection in their kindred, their friends, their nation, their profession, or their name.
(3) What is “glory” and how is glory a factor in perpetuating quarrel?
Because of the natural causes of quarrel, Hobbes argues, the natural condition of humans is a state of perpetual war of all against all, where no morality exists, and everyone lives in constant fear.
Hereby it is manifest, that during the time men live without a common power to keep them all in awe, they are in that condition which is called war; and such a war as is of every man against every man. For war consists not in battle only, or the act of fighting, but [also] in a tract of time, wherein the will to contend by battle is sufficiently known; and therefore the notion of time is to be considered in the nature of war, as it is in the nature of weather. For as the nature of foul weather lies not in a shower or two of rain, but in an inclination thereto of many days together; so the nature of war consists not in actual fighting, but in the known disposition thereto, during all the time there is no assurance to the contrary. All other time is peace.
Whatever therefore is consequent to a time of war, where every man is enemy to every man, the same is consequent to the time wherein men live without other security, than what their own strength and their own invention shall furnish them withal. In such condition, there is no place for industry, because the fruit thereof is uncertain; and consequently no culture of the earth, no navigation, nor use of the commodities that may be imported by sea; no commodious building, no instruments of moving and removing such things as require much force; no knowledge of the face of the earth, no account of time, no arts, no letters, no society; and which is worst of all, continual fear and danger of violent death; and the life of man, solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.
(4) Explain why in the state of nature there would be no industry, agriculture, imports, or building.
Proof of the State of Nature. Hobbes next offers proofs that the state of nature would be as brutal as he describes.
It may seem strange to some man, that has not well weighed these things, that nature should thus dissociate, and render men apt to invade and destroy one another. And he may therefore (not trusting to this inference made from the passions) desire perhaps to have the same confirmed by experience. Let him therefore consider with himself [that], when taking a journey, he arms himself and seeks to go well accompanied. When going to sleep, he locks his doors. When even in his house, he locks his chests, and this when he knows there be laws and public officers armed, to revenge all injuries [which] shall be done [to] him. [Consider] what opinion he has of his fellow subjects when he rides armed; of his fellow citizens when he locks his doors; and of his children and servants when he locks his chests. Does he not there as much accuse mankind by his actions as I do by my words? But neither of us accuse man’s nature in it. The desires, and other passions of man, are in themselves no sin. No more are the actions, that proceed from those passions, till they know a law that forbids them; which till laws be made they cannot know, nor can any law be made till they have agreed upon the person that shall make it.
(5) What are some activities in our daily lives that suggest that Hobbes is correct in his account of the state of nature?
It may perhaps be thought [that] there was never such a time nor condition of war as this, and I believe it was never generally so over all the world. But there are many places where they live so now. For the savage people in many places of America (except the government of small families the concord whereof depends on natural lust) have no government at all and live at this day in that brutish manner, as I said before. However, it may be perceived what manner of life there would be, where there were no common power to fear; [and] by what manner of life, which men that have formerly lived under a peaceful government, . . . [would] degenerate into in a civil war.
But though there had never been anytime wherein particular men were in a condition of war one against another; yet in all times, kings and persons of sovereign authority (because of their independence) are in continual jealousies and in the state and posture of gladiators, having their weapons pointing and their eyes fixed on one another. That is, their forts, garrisons, and guns [are fixed] upon the frontiers of their kingdoms, and continual spies [are fixed] upon their neighbors, which is a posture of war. But because they uphold thereby the industry of their subjects, there does not follow from it that misery which accompanies the liberty of particular men.
(6) According to Hobbes, in countries that have yet to be civilized, how do people treat each other?
To this war of every man against every man, this also is consequent, that nothing can be unjust. The notions of right and wrong, justice and injustice have there no place. Where there is no common power, there is no law; where no law, no injustice. Force and fraud are in war the two cardinal virtues. Justice and injustice are none of the [instinctive] faculties, neither of the body nor mind. If they were, they might be in a man that were alone in the world, as well as his senses and passions. They are qualities that relate to men in society, not in solitude. It is consequent also to the same condition, that there be no propriety, no dominion, no mine and thine distinct; but only that to be every man’s that he can get, and for so long as he can keep it. And thus much for the ill condition which man by mere nature is actually placed in; though with a possibility to come out of it consisting partly in the passions [and] partly in his reason.
(7) What is the status of morality in the state of nature?
Further on Hobbes notes that humans have three motivations for ending this state of war: the fear of death, the desire to have an adequate living, and the hope to attain this through one’s labor. Nevertheless, until the state of war ends, each person has a right to everything, including another person’s life.
First Law of Nature. Hobbes next explores the process by which we get out of the state of nature. The first step involves making contracts with others to secure peace. In articulating this peace-securing process, he draws on the language of the natural law tradition of his time, according to which all particular moral principles derive from immutable principles of reason. Since these moral mandates are fixed in nature, they are thus called “laws of nature.” By using the terminology of natural law theory, Hobbes is suggesting that, from human self-interest and social agreement alone, one can derive the same kinds of laws which more traditional natural law theorists believed were immutably fixed in nature. Throughout his discussion of morality, Hobbes continually re-defines traditional moral terms (such as right, liberty, contract, and justice) in ways which reflect his account of self-interest and social agreement.
The passions that incline men to peace are fear of death, desire of such things as are necessary to commodious living, and a hope by their industry to obtain them. And reason suggests convenient articles of peace, upon which men may be drawn to agreement. These articles are they which otherwise are called the laws of nature, whereof I shall speak more particularly in the two following Chapters.
The right of nature, which writers commonly call jus naturale, is the liberty each man has to use his own power as he will himself, for the preservation of his own nature (that is to say, of his own life, and consequently of doing anything which, in his own judgment and reason, he shall conceive to be the aptest means thereunto).
By liberty is understood, according to the proper signification of the word, the absence of external impediments; which impediments may often take away part of a man’s power to do what he would, but cannot hinder him from using the power left him, according as his judgment and reason shall dictate to him.
A Law of Nature (lex naturalis) is a precept, or general rule, found out by reason, by which a man is forbidden to do that which is destructive of his life, or takes away the means of preserving the same; and to omit that by which he thinks it may be best preserved. For though they that speak of this subject use to confound jus, and lex, right and law; yet they ought to be distinguished. Because, right consists in the liberty to do or to forbear, whereas law determines and binds to one of them, so that law and right differ as much as obligation and liberty, which in one and the same matter are inconsistent.
(8) For traditional natural law theorists, a law of nature is an unchangeable truth that establishes proper conduct. How does Hobbes define “law of nature”?
Hobbes continues by listing specific laws of nature, all of which aim at preserving a person’s life. He derives his laws of nature deductively, modeled after the type of reasoning used in geometry. That is, from a set of general principles, more specific principles are logically derived. Hobbes’s general principles so far are (1) that people pursue only their own self-interest, (2) the equality of people, (3) the causes of quarrel, (4) the natural condition of war, and (5) the motivations for peace. From these he derives at least 15 specific laws. The first three are the most important since they establish the overall framework for putting an end to the state of nature. Since we desire to get out of the state of nature, and thereby preserve our lives, we should therefore seek peace. This for Hobbes is the first law of nature.
And because the condition of man (as has been declared in the precedent chapter) is a condition of war of everyone against everyone, in which case everyone is governed by his own reason (and there is nothing he can make use of that may not be a help to him in preserving his life against his enemies), it follows that in such a condition, every man has a right to everything, even to one another’s body. And therefore, as long as this natural right of every man to everything endures, there can be no security to any man (how strong or wise soever he be) of living out the time which nature ordinarily allows men to live. And consequently it is a precept, or general rule of reason, That every man ought to endeavor peace as far as he has hope of obtaining it; and when he cannot obtain it, that he may seek and use all helps and advantages of war; the first branch of which rule contains the first and fundamental Law of Nature, which is, To seek peace and follow it; the second, the sum of the right of nature, which is, By all means we can, to defend ourselves.
(9) What do we have rights to in the state of nature?
Second Law of Nature. The reasonableness of seeking peace, indicated by the first law, immediately suggests a second law of nature, which is that we mutually divest ourselves of certain rights (such as the right to take another person’s life) so as to achieve peace. The mutual transferring of these rights is called a contract and is the basis of the notion of moral obligation. For example, I agree to give up my right to steal from you, if you give up your right to steal from me. We have then transferred these rights to each other and thereby become obligated to not steal from each other. From selfish reasons alone, we are both motivated to mutually transfer these and other rights, since this will end the dreaded state of war between us.
From this fundamental Law of Nature, by which men are commanded to endeavor peace, is derived this second Law, That a man be willing, when others are so too (as far-forth as for peace and defense of himself he shall think it necessary), to lay down this right to all things; and be contented with so much liberty against other men, as he would allow other men against himself. For so long as every man holds this right of doing anything he likes, [then] so long are all men in the condition of war. But if other men will not lay down their right as well as he, then there is no reason for anyone to divest himself of his. For that were to expose himself to prey (which no man is bound to) rather than to dispose himself to peace. This is that law or the gospel: Whatever you require that others should do to you, that do you to them. And that law of all men: Do not do to others what you would not want done to yourself.
To lay down a man’s right to anything, is to divest himself of the liberty of hindering another of the benefit of his own right to the same. For he that renounces or passes away his right, gives not to any other man a right which he had not before. Because, there is nothing to which every man had not [a] right by nature; but [a person] only stands out of his way, that he may enjoy his own original right, without hindrance from him, [though] not [necessarily] without hindrance from another [person]. So that the effect which redounds [or accrues] to one man by another man’s defect of right, is but so much diminution of impediments to the use of his own right original.
(10) According to Hobbes’s second law of nature, what rights do we divest ourselves of in the peace process?
The second law of nature consists of a contract between the agreeing parties. Hobbes takes this notion of contract somewhat literally, and he describes at length the validity of certain contracts. For example, contracts made in the state of nature are not generally binding, for, if I fear that you will violate your part of the bargain, then no true agreement can be reached. No contracts can be made with animals since animals cannot understand an agreement. Most significantly, I cannot contract to give up my right to self-defense since self-preservation is my sole motive for entering into any contract.
Third Law of Nature. Simply making contracts will not in and of itself secure peace. We also need to keep the contracts we make, and this is Hobbes’s third law of nature.
From that Law of Nature, by which we are obliged to transfer to another such rights as being retained hinder the peace of mankind, there follows a third, which is this: That men perform their covenants made, without which, covenants are in vain, and but empty words. And the right of all men to all things remaining, we are still in the condition of war.
And in this Law of Nature consists the fountain and original of justice. For where no covenant has preceded, there has no right been transferred, and every man has right to everything, and consequently no action can be unjust. But when a covenant is made, then to break it is unjust. And the definition of injustice is no other than the not performance of covenant. And whatever is not unjust, is just.
Hobbes notes a fundamental problem underlying all contracts: as selfish people, each of us will have an incentive to violate a contract when it serves our best interests. For example, it is in the mutual best interests of Jones and me to agree to not steal from each other. However, it is also in my best interest to break this contract and steal from Jones if I can get away with it. And, what complicates matters more, Jones is also aware of this fact. So, it seems that no contract can ever get off the ground. This problem can only be solved, according to Hobbes, by giving unlimited power to a political sovereign who will punish us if we violate our contracts. Again, it is for purely selfish reasons – that is, in order to end the state of nature – that I agree to set up a policing power that will punish me if I violate a contract.
But because covenants of mutual trust [are invalid] where there is a fear of not performance on either part . . . , though the original of justice be the making of covenants; yet injustice actually there can be none, till the cause of such fear be taken away, which while men are in the natural condition of war, cannot be done. Therefore before the names of just and unjust can have place, there must be some coercive power to compel men equally to the performance of their covenants, by the terror of some punishment greater than the benefit they expect by the breach of their covenant. And [this coercive power serves] to make good that propriety, which by mutual contract men acquire, in recompense of the universal right they abandon. And such power there is none before the erection of a commonwealth. And this is also to be gathered out of the ordinary definition of justice in the schools: for they say that Justice is the constant will of giving to every man is own. And therefore where there is no own, that is, no propriety, there is no injustice. And where there is no coercive power erected (that is, where there is no commonwealth), there nothing is unjust. So that the nature of justice consists in [the] keeping of valid covenants. But the validity of covenants begins not but with the constitution of a civil power, sufficient to compel men to keep them. And then it is also that propriety begins.
The fool has said in his heart, there is no such thing as justice... [and that] to make or not make, keep or not keep covenants [is] not against reason when it conduces to one’s benefit. ... This specious reasoning is nevertheless false. ... [H]e that breaks his covenant, and consequently declares that he thinks he may with reason do so, cannot be received into any society that unite themselves for peace and defense, but by the error of them that receive him. Nor [can he] be retained in it when he is received, without seeing the danger of the error, which errors a person cannot reasonably reckon upon as the means of his security. And therefore if he be left or cast out of society, he perishes. And if he lives in society, it is by the errors of other people which he could not foresee, nor reckon upon, and consequently against the reason of his preservation.... Justice, therefore (that is to say keeping of covenant), is a rule of reason by which we are forbidden to do anything destructive to our life, and consequently a law of nature....
(11) Suppose that I think I can still beat the system by entering into a social contract with no real intention of keeping the contracts that I make. What is Hobbes response to this tactic?
As noted, Hobbes’s first three Laws of Nature establish the overall framework for putting an end to the state of nature. The remaining laws give content to the earlier ones by describing more precisely the kinds of contracts that will preserve peace. For example, the fourth law is to show gratitude toward those who comply with contracts, otherwise people will regret that they complied when someone is ungrateful. Similarly, the fifth law is that we should be accommodating to the interests of society. For, if we quarrel over every minor issue, then this will interrupt the peace process. Briefly, here are the remaining laws: (6) cautiously pardon those who commit past offenses; (7) recognize that the purpose of punishment is to correct the offender, not “an eye for an eye” retribution; (8) avoid direct or indirect signs of hatred or contempt of another; (9) avoid pride; (10) retain only those rights which you would acknowledge in others; (11) be impartial; (12) share in common that which cannot be divided, such as rivers; (13) assign by lot those items which cannot be divided or enjoyed in common; (14) allow mediators of peace safe conduct; (15) resolve disputes through an arbitrator. Hobbes explains that there are other possible laws that are less important, such as those against drunkenness, which tends to the destruction of particular people.
Concluding Comments about the Laws of Nature. At the close of his account of the laws of nature, Hobbes states that morality consists entirely of these laws, which are arrived at though social contract.
The Laws of Nature are immutable and eternal. For injustice, ingratitude, arrogance, pride, iniquity, acception of persons, and the rest, can never be made lawful. For it can never be that war shall preserve life, and peace destroy it.
The laws, because they oblige only to a desire and [an] endeavor (I mean an unfeigned and constant endeavor) are easy to be observed. For in that they require nothing but [an] endeavor, he that endeavors their performance, fulfills them. And he that fulfills the law is just.
And the science of them is the true and only moral philosophy. For moral philosophy is nothing else but the science of what is good and evil in the conservation and society of mankind. Good and evil are names that signify our appetites and aversions, which in different tempers, customs, and doctrines of men, are different. And diverse men differ not only in their judgment on the senses of what is pleasant and unpleasant to the taste, smell, hearing, touch, and sight, but also of what is conformable or disagreeable to reason in the actions of common life. Nay, the same man in diverse times differs from himself, and one time praises (that is, calls good) what another time he dispraises and calls evil, from whence arise disputes controversies, and at last war. And therefore so long a man is in the condition of mere nature (which is a condition of war) as private appetite is the measure of good and evil.
(12) In what sense are the laws of nature “immutable”?
Contrary to Aristotle’s theory of the virtuous mean, Hobbes adds that moral virtues are relevant to ethical theory only insofar as they promote peace. Outside of this function, virtues have no moral significance.
And consequently all men agree on this, that peace is good, and therefore also the way or means of peace (which, as I have shown before, are justice, gratitude, modesty, equity, mercy, and the rest of the laws of nature) are good. That is to say, moral virtues [are good], and their contrary vices evil. Now the science of virtue and vice is moral philosophy, and therefore the true doctrine of the Laws of Nature is the true moral philosophy. But the writers of moral philosophy, though they acknowledge the same virtues and vices (yet not seeing wherein consisted their goodness, [and] not [seeing] that they come to be praised, as the means of peaceable, sociable, and comfortable living), place them in a mediocrity of passions. [Thus, they treat virtue] as if, not the cause but the degree of daring made fortitude – or, not the cause but the quantity of a gift made liberality.
BERNARD MANDEVILLE: THE FABLE OF THE BEES. Born in Rotterdam, Bernard de Mandeville (1670-1733) was a Dutch prose writer and philosopher who won European fame with The Fable of the Bees. Mandeville graduated in medicine from the University of Leiden in March 1691 and started to practice but very soon went abroad. Arriving in England to learn the language, he "found the Country and the Manners of it agreeable" and settled in London. In 1699 he married an Englishwoman, with whom he had two children. His professional reputation in London was soon established, and he attracted the friendship and patronage of important persons. Mandeville's first works in English were burlesque paraphrases from the 17th-century French poet Jean de La Fontaine and the 1
7th-century French writer Paul Scarron. The 1714 edition of Mandeville's most important work, The Fable of the Bees, was subtitled Private Vices, Publick Benefits and consisted of a preface, the text of The Grumbling Hive, an "Enquiry into the Origin of Moral Virtue," and "Remarks" on the poem. The 1723 edition included an examination of "The Nature of Society" and provoked a long controversy. The 1729 edition remodeled the entire argument to suit Mandeville's philosophical commitment but nevertheless retained something of the original purpose of diverting readers. Mandeville's argument in The Fable, a paradoxical defense of the usefulness of "vices," is based on his definition of all actions as equally vicious in that they are all motivated by self-interest. Yet while the motives must be vicious, the results of action are often socially beneficial, since they produce the wealth and comforts of civilization. [Adapted from the Encyclopedia Britannica]
The Grumbling Hive: Or, Knaves Turned Honest. Mandeville’s Fable of the Bees is an allegory about how society flourishes because of greed, deceit and other vices. The poem opens noting how the bees live in luxury and had a well-regulated government. All occupations had crooks and cheaters, but the hive thrived nonetheless.
A spacious hive well stocked with bees,
That lived in luxury and ease;
And yet as famed for laws and arms,
As yielding large and early swarms;
Was counted the great nursery
Of sciences and industry.
No bees had better government,
More fickleness, or less content:
They were not slaves to tyranny,
Nor ruled by wild democracy;
But kings, that could not wrong, because
Their power was circumscribed by laws.
These insects lived like men, and all
Our actions they performed in small:
They did whatever is done in town,
And what belongs to sword, or gown:
Though the artful works, by nimble slight
Of minute limbs, escaped human sight;
Yet we’ve no engines; laborers,
Ships, castles, arms, artificers,
Craft, science, shop, or instrument,
But they had an equivalent:
Which, since their language is unknown,
Must be called, as we do our own.
As grant, that among other things,
They wanted dice, yet they had kings;
And those had guards; from whence we may
Justly conclude, they had some play;
Unless a regiment be shown
Of soldiers, that make use of none.
Vast numbers thronged the fruitful hive;
Yet those vast numbers made them thrive;
Millions endeavoring to supply
Each other’s lust and vanity;
While other millions were employed,
To see their handy-works destroyed;
They furnished half the universe;
Yet had more work than laborers.
Some with vast stocks, and little pains
Jumped into business of great gains;
And some were damned to scythes and spades,
And all those hard laborious trades;
Where willing wretches daily sweat,
And wear out strength and limbs to eat:
While others followed mysteries,
To which few folks bind apprentices;
That want no stock, but that of brass,
And may set up without a cross [i.e., without money];
As sharpers [i.e., swindlers], parasites, pimps, players,
Pickpockets, coiners, quacks, soothsayers,
And all those, that, in enmity,
With down-right working, cunningly
Convert to their own use the labor
Of their good-natured heedless neighbor.
These were called knaves; but, bar the name,
The grave industrious were the same:
All trades and places knew some cheat,
No calling was without deceit.
Mandeville describes the corruption within several occupations, including those of lawyers, physicians, priests, soldiers, government bureaucrats,
The lawyers, of whose art the basis
Was raising feuds and splitting cases,
Opposed all registers, that cheats
Might make more work with dipt [i.e., mortgaged] estates;
As were it unlawful, that one’s own,
Without a law-suit, should be known.
They kept off hearings willfully,
To finger the retaining fee;
And to defend a wicked cause,
Examined and surveyed the laws;
As burglars shops and houses do;
To find out where they’d best break through.
Physicians valued fame and wealth
Above the drooping patient’s health,
Or their own skill: the greatest part
Studied, instead of rules of art,
Grave pensive looks, and dull behavior;
To gain the apothecary’s favor,
The praise of mid wives, priests and all
That served at birth, or funeral;
To bear with the ever-talking tribe,
And hear my lady’s aunt prescribe;
With formal smile, and kind “how do you”,
To fawn on all the family;
And, which of all the greatest curse is,
To endure the impertinence of nurses.
(13) Describe the corruption of lawyers and doctors.
Among the many priests of Jove [i.e., Jupiter],
Hired to draw blessings from above,
Some few were learned and eloquent,
But thousands hot and ignorant:
Yet all past muster, that could hide
Their sloth, lust, avarice and pride;
For which they were as famed, as tailors
For cabbage; or for brandy, sailors:
Some meager-looked, and meanly clad,
Would mystically pray for bread,
Meaning by that an ample store,
Yet literally received no more;
And, while these holy drudges starved,
Some lazy ones, for which they served,
Indulged their ease, with all the graces
Of health and plenty in their faces.
The soldiers, that were forced to fight,
If they survived, got honor by it;
Though some, that shunned the bloody fray,
Had limbs shot off, that ran away:
Some valiant generals fought the foe;
Others took bribes to let them go:
Some ventured always where it was warm,
Lost now a leg, and then an arm;
Till quite disabled, and put by,
They lived on half their salary;
While others never came in play,
And staid at home for double pay.
Their kings were served; but knavishly,
Cheated by their own ministry;
Many, that for their welfare slaved,
Robbing the very crown they saved:
Pensions were small, and they lived high,
Yet boasted of their honesty.
Calling, whenever they strained their right,
The slippery trick a perquisite [i.e., perk];
And, when folks understood their cant,
They changed that for emolument;
Unwilling to be short or plain,
In any thing concerning gain:
For there was not a bee but would
Get more, I won’t say, than he should;
But than he dared to let them know,
That paid for it; as your gamesters do,
That, though at fair play, never will own
Before the losers what they’ve won.
(14) describe the corruption of priests soldiers and kings.
Even with vice at all levels of society, the country was not only wealthy but the envy of foreigners.
But who can all their frauds repeat?
The very stuff, which in the street
They sold for dirt to enrich the ground,
Was often by the buyers found
Sophisticated with a quarter
Of good-for-nothing stones and mortar;
Though flail had little cause to mutter,
Who sold the other salt for butter.
Justice herself, famed for fair dealing,
By blindness had not lost her feeling;
Her left hand, which the scales should hold,
Had often dropt them, bribed with gold;
And, though she seemed impartial,
Where punishment was corporal,
Pretended to a regular course,
In murder, and all crimes of force;
Though some, first pilloried for cheating,
Were hanged in hemp of their own beating;
Yet, it was thought, the sword [of justice] she bore
Checked but the desperate and the poor;
That, urged by mere necessity,
Were tied up to the wretched tree
For crimes, which not deserved that fate,
But to secure the rich, and great.
Thus every part was full of vice,
Yet the whole mass a paradise;
Flattered in peace, and feared in wars,
They were the esteem of foreigners,
And lavish of their wealth and lives,
The balance of all other hives.
Such were the blessings of that state;
Their crimes conspired to make them great;
And virtue, who from politics
Had learned a thousand cunning tricks,
Was, by their happy influence,
Made friends with vice: and ever since,
The worst of all the multitude
Did something for the common good.
This was the state’s craft, that maintained
The whole of which each part complained:
This, as in music harmony,
Made jarrings [i.e., grating sounds] in the main agree;
Parties directly opposite,
Assist each other, as it were for spite;
And temperance with sobriety,
Serve drunkenness and gluttony.
The secret of the hive’s success was that “vice nursed ingenuity”.
The root of evil avarice,
That damned ill-natured baneful vice,
Was slave to prodigality,
That noble sin; while luxury
Employed a million of the poor,
And odious pride a million more:
Envy itself, and vanity,
Were ministers of industry;
Their darling folly, fickleness
In diet, furniture and dress,
That strange, ridiculous vice was made
The very wheel that turned the trade.
Their laws and clothes were equally
Objects of mutability;
For, what was well done for a time,
In half a year became a crime;
Yet while they altered thus their laws,
Still finding and correcting flaws,
They mended by inconstancy
Faults, which no prudence could foresee.
Thus vice nursed ingenuity,
Which joined with time and industry
Had carried life’s conveniences,
Its real pleasures, comforts, ease,
To such a height, the very poor
Lived better than the rich before,
And nothing could be added more:
Ashamed by society’s vices, the hive begins to grumble and call for moral change. Hearing their complaint, Jove (i.e., the god Jupiter) instantly wipes out social vice. As soon as does he do this, though, the economic vitality of the hive collapses.
How vain is mortal happiness!
Had they but known the bounds of bliss;
And, that perfection here below
Is more than gods can well bestow,
The grumbling brutes had been content
With ministers and government.
But they, at every ill success,
Like creatures lost without redress,
Cursed politicians, armies, fleets;
While every one cried, “damn the cheats,”
And would, though conscious of his own,
In others barbarously bear none.
One, that had got a princely store,
By cheating master, king, and poor,
Dared cry aloud; “the land must sink
For all its fraud;” and whom do you think
The sermonizing rascal chid [i.e., scolded]?
A glover [i.e., glove maker] that sold lamb for kid [i.e., young goat].
The least thing was not done amiss,
Or crossed the public business;
But all the rogues cried brazenly,
“Good Gods, had we but honesty!”
Mercury smiled at the impudence,
And others called it want of sense,
Always to rail at what they loved:
But Jove, with indignation moved,
At last in anger swore, he’d rid
The bawling hive of fraud, and did.
The very moment it departs,
And honesty fills all their hearts;
There shows them, like the instructive tree,
Those crimes, which they’re ashamed to see;
Which now in silence they confess,
By blushing at their ugliness:
Like children, that would hide their faults,
And by their color own their thoughts;
Imagining, when they’re looked upon,
That others see, what they have done.
But, oh you gods! What consternation,
How vast and sudden was the alteration!
In half an hour, the nation round,
Meat fell a penny in the pound.
The mask hypocrisy’s flung down,
From the great statesman to the clown:
And some, in borrowed looks well known,
Appeared like strangers in their own.
The bar was silent from that day;
For now the willing debtors pay,
Even what’s by creditors forgot;
Who quitted them, who had it not.
Those that were in the wrong stood mute,
And dropped the patched vexatious suit:
On which, since nothing less can thrive,
Than lawyers in an honest hive,
All, except those, that got enough,
With ink-horns by their sides trooped off.
Justice hanged some, set others free;
And after goal delivery [i.e., jails were emptied],
Her presence being no more required,
With all her train and pomp retired.
First marched some smiths with locks and grates,
Fetters and doors with iron plates;
Next goalers [i.e., jailers], turnkeys [i.e., jailers], and assistants:
Before the goddess, at some distance,
Her chief and faithful minister,
Esquire Catch [i.e., the executioner], the laws great finisher,
Bore not the imaginary sword [of justice],
But his own tools, an ax and cord:
Then on a cloud the hood-winked fair,
Justice herself was pushed by air:
About her chariot, and behind,
Were sergeants, bums [i.e., bumbailiffs (arresting attorneys)] of every kind,
Tip-staffs [i.e., police], and all those officers,
That squeeze a living out of tears.
(15) Why did the legal and security professions collapse?
Though physic [i.e., physicians] lived, while folks were ill,
None would prescribe, but bees of skill;
Which, through the hive dispersed so wide,
That none of them had need to ride,
Waved vain disputes; and strove to free
The patients of their misery;
Left drugs in cheating countries grown,
And used the product of their own,
Knowing the gods sent no disease
To nations without remedies.
Their clergy roused from laziness,
Laid not their charge on journey-bees [i.e., clergymen];
But served themselves, exempt from vice,
The gods with prayer and sacrifice;
All those that were unfit, or knew
Their service might be spared, withdrew;
Nor was their business for so many,
(if the honest stand in need of any)
Few only with the high-priest staid,
To whom the rest obedience paid:
Himself, employed in holy cares;
Resigned to others state affairs:
He chased no starveling [i.e., starving person] from his door,
Nor pinched the wages of the poor:
But at his house the hungry is fed,
The hireling [i.e., worker] finds unmeasured bread,
The needy traveler board and bed.
Among the king’s great ministers,
And all the inferior officers
The change was great; for frugally
They now lived on their salary.
That a poor bee should ten times come
To ask his due, a trifling sum,
And by some well-hired clerk be made
To give a crown, or never be paid,
Would now be called a down-right cheat,
Though formerly a perquisite [i.e., a perk].
All places; managed first by three,
Who watched each other’s knavery,
And often for a fellow-feeling,
Promoted, one another’s stealing,
Are happily supplied by one;
By which some thousands more are gone.
(16) What happened with physicians, priests and government bureaucrats?
No honor now could be content,
To live, and owe for what was spent.
Liveries in brokers shops are hung,
They part with coaches for a song;
Sell stately horses by whole sets;
And country houses to pay debts.
Vain cost is shunned as much as fraud;
They have no forces kept abroad;
Laugh at the esteem of foreigners,
And empty glory got by wars;
They fight but for their country’s sake,
When right or liberty’s at stake.
Now mind the glorious hive, and see
How honesty and trade agree.
The show is gone, it thins apace;
And looks with quite another face.
For it was not only that they went,
By whom vast sums were yearly spent;
But multitudes, that lived on them,
Were daily forced to do the same.
In vain to other trades they’d fly;
All were over-stocked accordingly.
The price of land and houses falls;
Miraculous palaces, whose walls,
Like those of Thebes, were raised by play [i.e., music and gambling],
Are to be let; while the once gay,
Well-seated household gods would be
More pleased to expire in flames, than see
The mean inscription on the door
Smile at the lofty ones they bore.
The building trade is quite destroyed,
Artificers are not employed;
No limner [i.e., portrait artist] for his art is famed;
Stone-cutters, carvers are not named.
Those, that remained, grown temperate, strive,
Not how to spend; but how to live,
And, when they paid the tavern score,
Resolved to enter it no more:
No vintner’s [i.e., winemakers] jilt in all the hive
Could wear now cloth of gold and thrive;
Nor Torcol such vast sums advance,
For Burgundy and Ortelans;
The courtier’s gone, that with his miss
Supped at his house on Christmas peas;
Spending as much in two hours stay,
As keeps a troop of horse a day.
The haughty Chloe; to live great,
Had made her husband rob the state:
But now she sells her furniture,
Which the Indies had been ransacked for;
Contracts the expensive bill of fare,
And wears her strong suit a whole year:
The slight and fickle age is past;
And clothes, as well as fashions last.
Weavers that joined rich silk with plate,
And all the trades subordinate,
Are gone. Still peace and plenty reign,
And every thing is cheap, though plain;
Kind nature, free from gardeners force,
Allows all fruits in her own course;
But rarities cannot be had,
Where pains to get them are not paid.
As pride and luxury decrease,
So by degrees they leave the seas,
Not merchants now; but companies
Remove whole manufactories.
All arts and crafts neglected lie;
Content the bane of industry,
Makes them admire their homely store,
And neither seek nor covet more.
(17) Give some examples of how luxury decreased.
The hive grows so weak that they become targets of attack from outsiders, and most of the bees are killed in battle.
So few in the vast hive remain;
The hundredth part they can’t maintain
Against the insults of numerous foes;
Whom yet they valiantly oppose;
Till some well-fenced retreat is found;
And here they die, or stand their ground,
No hireling in their armies known;
But bravely fighting for their own,
Their courage and integrity
At last were crowned with victory.
They triumphed not without their cost,
For many thousand bees were lost.
Hardened with toils, and exercise,
They counted ease it self a vice;
Which so improved their temperance,
That to avoid extravagance,
They flew into a hollow tree,
Blessed with content and honesty.
The Moral.
Then leave complaints: fools only strive
To make a great an honest hive.
To enjoy the world’s conveniences,
Be famed in war, yet live in ease
Without great vices, is a vain
Utopia seated in the brain.
Fraud, luxury, and pride must live,
While we the benefits receive.
Hunger is a dreadful plague no doubt,
Yet who digests or thrives without?
Do we not owe the growth of wine
To the dry, crooked, shabby vine?
Which, while its shoots neglected stood,
Choked other plants and ran to wood;
But blessed us with his noble fruit;
As soon as it was tied, and cut:
So vice is beneficial found,
When it’s by justice lopped and bound;
Nay, where the people would be great,
As necessary to the state,
As hunger is to make them eat.
Bare virtue can’t make nations live
In splendor; they, that would revive
A golden age, must be as free,
For acorns, as for honesty.
(18) What is the moral of the story?