Hartshorne and the Problem of Personal Identity

by Albert Shalom and John Robertson

Albert Shalom (philosophy) and John C. Robertson, Jr. (religious studies) both teach at McMaster University, Hamilton, Ontario, Canada.

The following article appeared in Process Studies, pp. 169-179, Vol. 8, Number 3, Fall, 1978. Process Studies is published quarterly by the Center for Process Studies, 1325 N. College Ave., Claremont, CA 91711. Used by permission. This material was prepared for Religion Online by Ted and Winnie Brock.


Shalom and Robertson discuss Hartshorne and his ideas about “personal identity”, about the idea that “to be” is “to create,” about “soul-substance,” about immortality, about the “person” and the “self.”



According to Hartshorne, "to be" is "to create" (CSPM 1). Upon this basis he formulates an entire metaphysics which characterizes the person (not the word "person") as "a kind of low-level universal" (CSPM 73). Thus the personal identity of Peter or Joan is an abstraction relatively to "the momentary states or events in which alone the individual is fully concrete or actual" (CSPM 73). Spatiotemporal events, themselves invested with a "psychical" attribute, are therefore taken as ultimate, and whatever else specifies human beings must be subordinated to these event-realities, themselves expressed in event-language.

This argument presupposes a false dilemma, as I see it, that either one accepts the notion of a separate soul-substance enduring through time or else one must accept the thesis of process philosophy. Hartshorne expresses this implied identification of individual immortality with a "soul-substance" when he writes that the notion of an "immortal soul" has "muddled and confused many problems" (CSPM 45). My inability to accept Hartshorne’s view does not entail acceptance of any "soul-substance" as conceived by Hartshorne. "Soul" may still refer to the most fundamental level of the person and may be immortal. In other words, "soul" and "immortality" do not necessarily entail the Cartesian notion of a "soul-substance."

Hartshorne’s sense of "creativity" points to processes of sentient cells, experiences, or monads which appear to constitute the ultimate foundations of reality. Thus, for instance, sensations are analyzed in terms of body cells furnishing "their little experiences or feelings," each one of which contributes to a pool of "more comprehensive experience" constituting "what we call our sensations" (CSPM 7). From which it follows, ultimately, that the self must be regarded as a series of momentary selves the unity of each of which can only be regarded as the unity of a complex set of what I will refer to as "interrelated event-cells," while the unity of the more general sense of "person" or "self’ can only be regarded as the unity of a sequence or succession. An analogy would be that of a symphony. A symphony can be regarded as a unity constituted by a series of groups of notes, the symphonic unity itself becoming increasingly more specific as one approaches the end of the unit, symphony. In the same way, the unity of a particular person could be regarded as the over-all unity of a temporal series of structured, momentary selves concretized in a particular sequence of such "momentary selves."

However, no single spatiotemporally organized group of notes could intelligently be referred to as being itself the symphony. Since "to be" is "to create," any single group of notes can only be regarded as an evanescent contribution to the completed symphony, itself evanescent. Since "persons" are regarded by Hartshorne as "low-level universals" expressed by the total temporary state of whatever it is that constitutes a "momentary self" at any particular point in time, it follows that the word "person," quite unlike the word "symphony," does not simply refer to the completed totality of this or that particular series of the total life-span of that particular series of "momentary selves." Thus the word "person" plays the same role, in the analogy, as a particular complex of notes at a particular time in the course of the symphony. But here the analogy simply breaks down.

I am aware that I am "this person" now, and now, and now. I do not refer to myself as a section of a person now, and another and different section at each successing microsecond. This, of course, is quite unlike the successive series of groups of notes constituting the symphony. As groups of notes they can be radically different at each succeeding moment, whereas persons are not, as persons, radically different at each succeeding moment. Thus one can say of someone, "that is just the kind of thing I would have expected him to do," whereas there is little inherent and quasi-inevitable connection between certain parts of Beethoven’s symphonies.

If, despite the inappropriateness indicated above, one wishes to maintain that the analogy is between "person" and "symphony," and not between "person" and successive "groups of notes," it makes little sense to say that I am more of a person in the half-hour preceding my death than I am now, whereas the series of complex notes which constitute the symphony are closer to being the symphony the nearer the end of the symphony is approached. But this, of course, is no more than an analogy. Perhaps in order to avoid the dangerous consequences of such an analogy Hartshorne prefers using the more abstract Buddhist concept of the self as a series of constantly passing selves (CSPM 9) instead of formulating his "process" view of the person in terms of an ordered series of interrelated event-cells constituting this or that specific temporal sequence.

In chapter 9, which I shall concentrate upon, Hartshorne reaffirms his basic general position: events are more determinate than the individual (CSPM 173). In other words, the totality of actual events which constitute my psychophysical history are more determinate than any unitary "I" to which these psychophysical events may be referred. Thus if "I" do something like "deciding upon a course of action," that "deciding" is not’ to be attributed to an "I" which is to be regarded as in some way distinct relatively to the actual spatiotemporal events comprising the occurrences of my life-history: it is to be attributed to those occurrences themselves. In this sense, "deciding" is not to be understood as it ordinarily, if obscurely, is understood: it is to be understood as the cumulative result of a myriad of subdecisions undertaken by the psychically-infused spatiotemporal events constituting the event-history which is "me." If so, all intentional terms are deprived of their specific meanings by being attributed, in the interests of an arbitrary philosophical thesis, to domains to which they do not in fact belong. Thus, for instance, deciding ceases to be understandable except as a reduction to these microscopic subdecisions compensated by what I believe to be Hartshorne’s general view of the entire process as a collection of particular processes which are part of a general telos manifesting God in process. ‘I" can "decide," so to speak, because God is "in the making," to use Whitehead’s phrase. Then the psychophysical problem of "deciding" is shifted to a combination or interpenetration of physics and religion, both of which may certainly be involved in the whole activity of deciding, but neither of which has much to say as regards its specific activity.

This kind of argument seems to me to manifest what might be called the fallacy of misplaced location. If I have a disposition to act in a certain way, it is of course quite obvious that this disposition will manifest itself in and through "events." But it does not follow from this that the disposition can, itself, be simply reduced to the events in and through which it manifests itself. This would be to simplify outrageously the complex problems involved in the structure of the person. The disposition is also the events in which it manifests itself, but it is not necessarily identical with these events. A man who, for some reason, feels the need perpetually to humiliate people will not find any explanation for that need in the actual attempts to humiliate others: he will only find it in the inferences which might be derived from the motives which lead him to behave in that way. The present motive which leads him to behave in that way now, assuming by the word "now" Hartshorne’s 1/10th of a second as defining "present" (CSPM 175), is likely to be identical with the motive which will lead him, to behave in the same sort of way tomorrow. Deep-seated motives, dispositions and intentions do not appear to have the same kind of temporality as the clocked events of the physical world or the events of a supposed "stream of consciousness.

Hartshorne characterizes events in terms of increasing asymmetrical specificity: "the earlier members of an event-sequence" relatively to "the successors" are less definitely specified. Temporal direction is certainly a fact of existence. If existence is identified with process, which is the questionable move in all "process philosophies," all existents can only be analyzed in terms of the consequences of this temporal direction as applied to each particular kind of existent. Given this univocal conception of time, personal identity does tend to be regarded as something like a completed symphony: "If the child is only potentially, i.e., somewhat indefinitely, destined to become an adult, but the adult has perfectly definitely been such and such a child, then to call the child and the adult the identical concrete entity is erroneous. Identity is directionless, symmetrical" (CSPM 178-80). Again, "the genuinely concrete or inclusive unity, the determinate subject, is a new creation each moment." Or, "if I change my beliefs -- and in subtle ways they are ever-changing -- this means that there are really successive believers" (CSPM 181).

A human destiny clearly does imply a certain direction taken in life. It is also quite obviously true that the multiple possibilities open to a child or a young man or woman cease to exist as possibilities for a middle-aged man or woman who has already opted for, or been led into, this or that career, job, or other mode of life. These are simply biographical facts of life. But Hartshorne identifies such biographical facts with the ontological constitution of the person. This leads him to the paradoxical consequence of dissolving the problem of the person by transferring those activities which are, in fact, specific to such biographies, to events as such and to a God who is supposedly "in process." The particular direction actually taken by a child, which results in his becoming this man or woman as distinct from that man or woman, is explained in terms of the becoming itself. But since this particular becoming as distinct from that particular becoming (i.e., the child’s taking this as distinct from that direction) itself needs explaining, Hartshorne can only deal with the problem by shifting it elsewhere.

The whole complex or "cluster" of concepts referring to intentions, attitudes, and tendencies are attributed by Hartshorne to "momentary selves" manifesting a God in process. The reason for this appears to be quite clear. If these intentional concepts are simply integrated into a univocal time-sequence, then they simply become descriptions of behavior, and we are either on the road to behaviorism and determinism or on the road to the hazardous analogy of the symphony to which I have referred. In order to avoid these consequences while at the same time maintaining "process" as the ultimate key-concept, process philosophers are obligated to invest this process itself with a generalized psyche. So we have the double "solution" manifested not only in the writings of Hartshorne, but also, partially at least, in some of Whitehead’s views: the solution explicitly held by Hartshorne of the self as a series of "momentary selves" or the solution implied by quotations such as those referring to body cells as contributing "their little experiences" to a more comprehensive experience." In other words, either the abstract notion of "momentary selves" or the more concrete notion of what I have called a series of interrelated psychophysical "event-cells."

Both these supposed "solutions" (they are two sides of the same coin) are the direct consequence of the reduction of "the person" to "process." If "process" is the ultimate "reality," then I am by definition a series of successive selves. I can either express this directly by using an expression like "momentary selves," supplemented by a speculative device designed to give some sort of unity to the otherwise unacceptable implication of a crumbling of each "momentary self’ into a dust of pure momentary "events," or I can go the way of many neurologists who see the "momentary self’ as the result of successive integrations of the nervous system in its constant reactions to internal and external stimuli. It is this latter view which I have referred to as the series of interrelated event-cells.

If I follow the first direction, which is the one favored by Hartshorne, I must suppose that each successive "total temporary state," to use Grice’s expression, is also the "total temporary state" of a "subject." Whether I use the expression "momentary self " or the word "monad," what I am in fact doing is setting a limit, on no validly argued grounds, to the dissolution of the "total temporary states" into a purely ad hoc combination of inexplicable and inexplicably organized collections of bodily cells, sensations, intentions, thoughts, nervous processes, desires, and the like. In a word, I’m not explaining the self: I’m simply positing it, which is not a very convincing mode of doing philosophy, The introduction of the divine may well be the necessary next step to give a more coherent and universal view to this very arbitrarily posited "self." So, as with Hegel, "God" or the "Spirit" becomes the ultimate real "subject" of this entire process. Particular individuals are then relegated to the status of "low-level universals" which, by virtue of this introduction of the divine as permeating all things, now possess the desired quality of "subjectivity." What this really means is that this arbitrarily introduced general "psychicalism" has become the means of avoiding the difficult and complex problems associated with "the person."

If I follow the second direction, which is the one favored by many neurologists and by a number of "identity theorists," I must suppose that each "total temporary state" is both a physical and a psychical "total temporary state." Since no neurologist has, so far as I know, been able to derive even the simplest of sensations from the electrochemical processes of the nervous system, I must, in some way, posit that the physical is also the psychical. Hence there have been many attempts to describe the process in a language which will cover both the inorganic and the organic-sensory. But whether I use the term "psychicalism," favored by the process philosophers, or such terms as Russell’s "neutral stuff" or Feigl’s distinction between the physical as the "reference" and the psychical as the "sense," I am merely positing a name, not arguing philosophically for a conceptual scheme designed to overcome the body/mind dualism. Here again, the method seems to me entirely unconvincing. If the divine is now used to give the view a supposedly greater philosophical coherence, then I inevitably reach the sort of conclusion implied by Hartshorne’s bodily cells with their "little experiences or feelings." Thus we reach the general idea of a God animating psychophysical event-cells.

Quite apart from the sheer arbitrariness of the "process" solution favored by Hartshorne, to suppose that the problem of human freedom and conditioning can be solved by investing the whole of existence with "free creativity" is quite simply to beg the whole question. It transfers to the merely posited real "subject" of the "free creativity," namely God, the problem of freedom and human responsibility. It does this by investing a behavioral problem with an ontological foundation which has not itself been justified. It appears to me to be little more than a category mistake to tie the whole cluster of intentional concepts either to a God constantly creating "new occasions" or to the pseudo-freedom of psychicalized bodily cells somehow related to a Leibnizian spiritual monad without Leibniz’s philosophical foundations for that monad This transfers the immediate import of moral concepts from their proper domain to a domain where their use becomes little more than metaphorical. To attempt to justify this by transforming the epistemological problem of "uncertainty" into an ontological fact is simply a way of mobilizing the present limits of scientific knowledge in order to assert an arbitrary philosophical thesis. Does not the proposed solution give rise to more difficulties than we would have if we simply abandoned the conceptual framework of process philosophy entirely?

As indicated in the quotations above, Hartshorne holds that the "identity" of a "person" is no more than the identity of a series of "momentary selves." His example of "my changing beliefs" is more accurately translatable as "there are really successive believers" Does it really make sense at all to talk of my changing beliefs? Hartshorne is aware of this problem, since he refers to "the old Hindu argument" that some kind of permanent "I" is needed to understand the very notion of change in beliefs. If the "I" is simply identified with a succession of "momentary I’s," I do not think that it is even accurate to retranslate this as "successive believers." By using the words "I" and "believer" Hartshorne is, I think, simply introducing by the back door the complex and obscure notion of a quasi-permanent "self," allowing it to carry at least part of the weight of his proposed retranslation. If "I" is to be construed as a series of "momentary selves" and if the "self" of "momentary self" has not been adequately grounded, then in fact there are not "successive believers" at all: the most that can be said is that there are successive modes of belief-behavior.

If the reality at work is the inner creativity of God expressing himself as, among other things, the "low-level universals" of a multiplicity of "I’s" or as expressing himself in the supposed subjectivity of psychicalized cells, how exactly does my present self-awareness derive from this? How exactly does God’s "internal creativity" give rise to my present self-awareness? I see no ground for deriving the second from the first, nor even for positing the first at all. To simply refer to God’s free creativity, implying that God can of course do just this, is to explain nothing. It is no more than the assertion of what has to be demonstrated, based, of course, on the plain empirical fact that I am aware of myself. Conversely, if God is seen primarily as the expressed psychicalization in process of a multiplicity of event-cells, how can there be anything more than just that: psychicalized event-cells? It is only by a leap of science-fiction (the kind exemplified by Teilhard de Chardin’s "psychical dust" and subsequent "complexification" theory) that psychicalized cells can be transformed into my awareness of myself. The only circumstance able to lend theories of this sort even the remotest appearance of plausibility lies in the ambiguity and vagueness of the word "psychical."

Hartshorne agrees, of course, that "from birth to death I am I and not any other human person" (CSPM 183). But there is an inherent ambiguity in this use of the word "I." One must suppose that the I to which Hartshorne is referring is both the "momentary I," lasting, presumably, 1/10th of a second, and the total series of these assumed momentary selves." But this immediately raises the question of the relationship between these two uses, necessary uses, as I see it, of the word "I." It certainly does not seem to me that I have any empirical evidence whatsoever for holding that the "I" writing these words now, at this precise 1/10th of a second, is in any sense a different "I" from the "I" which started writing this paper some time ago. The ambiguity lies in this: Hartshorne has superimposed a theoretical structure creating an insoluble problem upon the unanalyzed many-sidedness of experience.

I know that I am "the same person" now as the person who started writing this paper; and I also know that I have undergone a complex variety of changes in sensation, feeling, emotion, ideas, bodily processes and so on between then and now. This is certainly the problem. Harts-home’s proposed solution erects a theoretical construct called a momentary self" and then suggests the link of "memory" as the tie binding these "momentary selves" into a unitary sheaf. Hence Hartshorne responds to "the old Hindu argument" by referring to memory. Now memory is an old Occidental argument for bolstering personal identity, and it has never been very successful. Within the framework of process philosophy, it seems to me even less likely to succeed: it must suffer the same sort of fate as belief. Suppose that A represents "me" as a "momentary self" at time T1 and B represents "me" as a "momentary self" at time T2. I can by fiat simply assert that what occurs in A also "inheres" in B. But if I do this, then "me" at A and "me" at B are not, strictly speaking, "momentary selves." For "me" at B comprehends, partially or entirely, "me" at A under the form of "memory." In this sense memory" ceases to be a link between two ontological entities called "momentary selves," for it becomes part of the description of B. Then the "self" at B and at A is a necessary condition for being able to refer to memory at all. Thus personal identity is the condition for "memory." This reverses Hartshorne’s contention that memory is the condition for personal identity.

If I do not assert by fiat that A inheres in B under the form of memory, but try to establish memory as a real link between A and B considered as distinct entities or momentary selves," then I must analyze the manner in which memory does, supposedly, constitute such a link. From this point of view I must start off with the 1/10th second A and the 1/10th second B as the basic realities. Each constitutes a different "total temporary state." But each total temporary state is a present total temporary state. The problem becomes that of transforming some of that "presentness" into "pastness," i.e., memory. I cannot simply refer to the ordinary meaning of the word "memory" because that is precisely the problem: lam trying to elucidate how what is ordinarily called "memory" in fact functions as a bridge between two "present" total temporary states. Yet precisely, within this supposed basic framework of two "present" total temporary states, what is called memory necessarily ceases to possess the property of "pastness" which is associated with memory. What I erstwhile called "memory" simply becomes a present element in two "present" total temporary states. The bridge dissolves, and I am left with a series of present "momentary selves" inexplicably linked so as to constitute that obscure reality which we generally refer to as "personal identity."

Thus on both counts the framework of "process philosophy" seems to me utterly unable to deal with the problem of personal identity. Contrary to the view necessarily implied by this framework, it is not because I remember certain events yesterday that I am "the same person" today: rather, it is because in some way I am "the same person then and now that I can remember such events. Memory cannot, within this framework (nor, so far as I can see, within any other framework) form the basis for personal identity. It would seem that the old Hindu argument" still requires an answer.

I will end by stating quite dogmatically -- dogmatically because a justification requires the full working out of such a theory -- that for an "I" to be able to remember, to believe, to intend, to think, and to know seems to require a theory of a many-leveled self, each level being specified by the systematic equivocity of time.2 Such a theory seems to me to be impossible within the framework of process philosophy.


Shalom’s argument against Hartshorne’s account of the self has three main parts: what goes by the name of self or person (1) washes out into a (dubious) psychicalistic account of nature, (2) dissolves horizontally into a series of episodes, and (3) is vitiated all along by a "God in process." I wish to speak briefly to these charges.

Regarding the first: I do not care to defend here Hartshorne’s psychicalism against the criticism that it commits the pathetic fallacy (or "fallacy of mislocation," as Shalom contends) by attributing to nature human-like feelings, actions, etc.3 But I do wish to argue that he is innocent of trying to move from (a human-like) nature ("event-cells," etc.) to human beings and characteristically human activities.

Hartshorne has for years accepted something like Whitehead’s "reformed subjectivist principle" as the point of departure for philosophical thinking. For example, fifteen years ago he described his method as follows:

The speculative argument is that some analogies must be universal, for otherwise we could not explicate such general terms as "actuality". To do this we start with a specimen of actuality; and our own experiences as actual are the clearest, most indubitable instances (Descartes’ great discovery, as Whitehead points out). From this beginning we can conceive more and more general variables of experience. (PI 349; emphasis mine)

Recently he has reaffirmed this methodological decision: "bodily experience, not vision of environmental objects [should be] our initial sample of perception" (CSPM 80). Nor does the reference to "bodily" experience warrant thinking that Hartshorne is referring to subhuman external realities. This would be to reject rather than to reform Descartes’ subjectivist principle. The point rather is to overcome Descartes’ excessive intellectualism (and latent solipsism) in favor of our experience of psychosomatic social-relatedness.

From the self Hartshorne moves by way of analogical thinking and category stretching to describe other entities in the great chain of being (e.g., CSPM 53-56). Whether he escapes all the well-known logical blunders in so doing is arguable. But what seems clear is that the movement of his reasoning is from self-consciousness to nature rather than vice versa. If he talks about the event character (1/10th of a second in length and all that) of the self, it is because he thinks that is what analysis of self-consciousness itself discloses and not because he means to construct the self out of subhuman individuals or organisms (Shalom’s "event-cells").

Regarding the second point: This has to do with making sense out of characteristically human experiences of change and self-identity. Shalom questions the adequacy of Hartshorne’s Buddhist-like alternative to the doctrine of a soul-substance. The theory of a self as a series of events linked by memory cannot, he argues, explain why, for example, "a man . . . feels the need perpetually to humiliate people":

If I have a disposition to act in a certain way, it is of course quite obvious that this disposition will manifest itself in and through "events," But it does not follow from this that the disposition can itself be simply reduced to the events in and through which it manifests itself.

But why not, assuming the events are sentient organisms? Does one need to posit a sixth reality to explain why, say, all five generations of the Campbell family are as they are? If one can do without such a transtemporal reality in a family biography and still account for inherited traits, why not also in an individual biography, where one "event-self" inherits from its predecessors?

The real difference between Hartshorne and Shalom boils down to whether (a) it is memory that accounts for personal identity or (b) vice versa. Shalom’s argument against the former relies on Grice’s notion of "present total temporary states," Shalom totally includes memory as an element in a "present total temporary state" and within this context charges that "what is called ‘memory’ necessarily ceases to possess the property of ‘pastness’ which is associated with memory" and required by Hartshorne’s theory.

But is this dissolving of the mnemonic bridge not counter-experiential? How does one explain the phenomenon of a tradition -- a tradition which nourishes and limits its constituents -- on this hypothesis? Whence a tradition’s continuity if not in memory? Can one deny that past episodes in a tradition can exert a powerful influence on the present?

Further, I question the adequacy of thinking of any present state as only present, for the present moment is never a mere mathematical point but (as the radical empiricists and phenomenologists have argued) is rather "thick" with past and future. The past grounds and constrains us, and the future lures us on as the present’s potential. This potentiality is experienced in the psyche as anticipation; the past is experienced as memory.

I gladly admit that the past and present exist in different ways, but unless the past somehow exists now as an ingredient in the present, we end up in a solipsism of the present moment -- which seems contrary to experience.

While I do not deny that memory fails as a bridge if it is transposed into Grice’s and Shalom’s concept of the present, it is not clear that the reasons for that transposition are compelling.

Regarding the third point: Shalom’s objection here is, if I understand him, that Hartshorne invokes God to give "individuals... the desired quality of subjectivity." If so, this smacks of Deus ex machina. But is this Hartshorne? I should think Hartshorne’s is almost the exact opposite position. The creature’s subjectivity is its power of self-creation. God has nothing to do with it, directly anyhow. Indeed, Hartshorne risks the coherence of his scheme by denying that God and creature can, as contemporaries, even be related in the moment of the creature’s self-creating act. This is to protect the autonomy of the creaturely agent. God as ground of the finite order as a whole makes such an act possible. As lover of the world, God treasures the outcome of each creative act. But God is not invoked by Hartshorne to do for the creature what only the creature can do for itself.

This points to the relevance of Hartshorne’s conceiving of God as "God in the making," a conception Shalom seems to find comical at best and absurd at worst. God is "in the making" in the sense that there is potentiality in God, and it is only because there is potentiality in God that the contingent decisions of the creatures have ontological "space" to occur and can be thought to have any final significance. Whatever one makes of Hartshorne’s neoclassical theism, it seems to be far from usurping human freedom, subjectivity, or creativity and also far from being a Deus ex machina.

In conclusion, I submit that Shalom’s most substantial point is the second one. The first and third are not central, I believe, because, even though Hartshorne is a psychicalist and a (neoclassical) theist, his Buddhist-like account of the self is logically independent of both psychicalism and theism. Shalom’s second objection boils down to whether memory grounds personal identity or vice versa. I personally find his argument fresh, trenchant, and interesting, and I look forward to hearing more about his "many-layered self." Yet, while I am not altogether convinced that Hartshorne and the Buddhists are right about the self, I have not found Shalom’s argument against them decisive.



CSPM -- Charles Hartshorne, Creative Synthesis and Philosophic Method. London: SCM, 1970. (See particularly chapter 9, "Events, Individuals and Predication," pp. 173-204.)

PI -- Sydney and Beatrice Rome, eds., Philosophical Interrogations. New York: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston, 1964.



1 Shalom: I have tried to analyze the inadequacy of "memory" as a basis for personal identity in "Identité Personnelle et la Temporalité du Moi," (in Analecta Husserliana, 1976). The same kind of difficulty is raised by Sydney Shoemaker towards the end of his book Self-Knowledge and Self-Identity (New York: Cornell University Press, 1963).

2 Shalom: For the beginnings of such a theory, see my essays "On the Structure of the Person: Time and Consciousness" (in Dialectics and Humanism, Journal of the Polish Academy of Science, 1975) and, more particularly, "The Problem of the Person: Philosophy and the Neurologists" (to appear in Dialectics and Humanism, 1979).

3 Robertson: Indeed, I find Hartshorne’s reasoning on this confusing and perhaps confused. He seems to me to argue that (1) human love involves relativity to its object and (2) all organisms are relative to other individuals and (3) therefore, all organisms can be said to love (see, e.g., CSPM 53-56). Of course, Hartshorne is a deft and subtle reasoner, and perhaps I have overlooked something in accusing him of erring in this obvious manner. Nevertheless, it seems to me that he is more successful in showing that loving is an internal relation than that all cases of internal relatedness are cases of loving (or knowing or feeling).