The Clinical Use of Whitehead’s Anthropology

Whitehead’s cosmology is rich with meaning and relevance to the theory and practice of psychotherapy.1 His categories bear upon some of the most fundamental issues of the field, serving to clarify and unify the debated issues in this diverse and fragmented profession. This paper tackles twelve areas relevant to psychotherapy, looking briefly at how process categories apply to these discussions. The subject areas are: I. Psyche and Soma; II. Radical Novelty and Continuity Through Time; III. Confluence (Causal Efficacy) and Boundaries; IV Presentational Immediacy and Separation; V Internal Relations; VI. Metaphors, Grounded Possibilities and Projections; VII. Dissociation; VIII. The Self; IX. Parts Work and Contrasts; X. The Role of Consciousness; XI. The Structure of Perception and the Phases of the Self; and XII. Nature and Source of Healing

I. Psyche and Soma

Traditionally, psychology and psychotherapy have begun with the psyche, both thematically and literally. While today there are some who would prefer to focus elsewhere, this still is a legitimate starting point for this current analysis. Perhaps when psyche is more fully understood from a process perspective, it will be once again the universal starting point for psychology and psycho-therapy.

Psyche is the Greek word we translate as "soul." The psyche includes, first, the totality of the person’s experience at a given instance, from full consciousness down through the deepest unconsciousness, and second, the totality of the whole succession of these experiences. The process perspective affirms that there is a new instance of the psyche at every moment. It is not a thing which endures, but is instead a continuously recreated structure. The human psyche, in other words, is constituted by a series of occasions of experience that come into being and perish. The "flow" that we experience is created out of the rapid succession of these individual instances, much as individual pictures shown in quick succession will create the sense of motion in cinema.

Prom a Whiteheadian perspective, focusing on the psyche does not imply that the interpersonal is secondary. A moment in the ongoing life of the psyche is created entirely out of relationships, including those with the person’s body, especially the brain; with previous instances of the person’s psyche; with other persons, such as family members, care-givers, and others from the larger human community; with our natural world; and with the entire universe, including God.

As the psyche comes into being, it is subjective experience.2 Each moment, one is a new subject. Once the becoming is concluded, the occasion as subject becomes occasion as object or fact. This new object is who one is, whether a mere moment ago -- or 20 years ago.3 Whitehead fully recognizes both subjectivity and objectivity in his cosmology, overcoming subject-object duality

For Whitehead, the psyche4 at any moment is a highly developed example of the basic unit of all reality, which he called an actual occasion. A star, a tree, a human being -- each is composed of actual occasions. Our bodies and central nervous systems are composed of innumerable such occasions. Obviously, there are differences between the occasions of a star, the body, the brain, and the psyche; but for Whitehead, these differences are matters of structure and complexity, not differences of a metaphysical kind. The occasion that constitutes the human psyche is richly and complexly developed, with a capacity for novelty and freedom that does not exist, for example for the occasions that constitute inorganic matter.

As the term "actual occasion" implies, these entities and only these are actual in an ontological sense. Everything else is abstracted from these occasions or derived from them. The other half of the name is occasion. Each one is an event that comes into being and then "perishes." At the micro level of a single occasion, each one of these units is made up of an integrated bundle of feelings. These feelings, called prehensions, are graspings of preceding occasions. The term "feeling" is used as a general term for what Gestalt Therapy calls "contact." Emotions, which are often called feelings by therapists, are what Whitehead calls the subjective form of feelings. The becoming occasion, as subject, prehends past occasions that have completed their becoming. These past occasions are the facts (objective data) of our experience. They are not simply inert, dead facts, however. Potentially they all have efficacy for the future, and some of them will have a great deal of influence. In a very real sense, the feelings and purposes of past occasions have the potential to come alive again in the new moment.

This perspective implies that we share a kinship with our body and, indeed, with all of creation. The destructive Cartesian mind-body dualism, which continues to distort our view of ourselves, is abolished. The view that we are somehow really only chemistry, prevalent today in medicine and much of psychology, is rejected without denying our intimate relationship with our chemistry.5

(a) Psyche As Both Physical and Mental

As with all occasions, the psyche has both a physical and a mental pole in its experience. The physical pole has to do with the experience of; and connection to, past events; and the mental pole has to do with the mental elaboration of that experience. Unlike most occasions, however, the mental pole becomes highly significant and elaborate in the human psyche. It must be stressed that both poles are important for the human psyche. The mature psyche is Increasingly a full integration of the two poles. The elaboration of the analysis of these two poles, including their interrelationship, constitutes much of the rest of this paper.

(b) Psyche and the Soma

The relationship between the psyche and the soma traditionally is a rich area of study and debate. From a Whiteheadian point of view, the human psyche is seen as exceedingly lively rich and complex, the most complex creaturely process known. Much of its complexity arises from its intimate relationship with the brain and the rest of the body. While there is little doubt in our culture about the dependence of the psyche for its adequate functioning upon a healthy body, the brain in particular, there is considerable doubt about the relevance of the psyche for the life of the body. In a related vein, there also is much debate about the relevance of the psyche for the human person in terms of freedom and consciousness.6

The entire field of biofeedback is testimony to the influence of the psyche on the soma. If one can learn to alter skin temperature, heart rate, and brain waves at will, clearly the mind has an impact on the body. The entire profession of psychotherapy turns on the notion that individuals are responsible for their decisions, actions, and even their moods, and that they can learn to change. If this is not true to any significant degree, then there is no need for this field.

Much of the confusion about the relationship between the psyche and the soma is the result of a muddled ontological understanding of the nature of these two structures. Whitehead makes it clear that there is but one kind of actuality (the actual occasion) which can take different lines of development. Some become occasions that constitute the body and some become occasions that constitute the psyche. Further, each occasion is a separate and unique event. This means that a given occasion of the psyche has the same general dynamics as all occasions, even if they are uniquely developed; but that it is separate and distinct from any occasion constituting, say, the brain.

An occasion of the psyche has important and unique functions and characteristics. It emerges in response to the activity of the body in particular the brain. It is the recipient of all of the experience of the body, including the highly refined experience of the brain. It receives this experience in a direct, unmediated fashion.

In turn, it returns the favor, influencing the body Whitehead says, with "its vivid originality: it is the organ of novelty"(Process 339). That is, the decisions made by this occasion flow back into the brain and the rest of the body altering the soma. In this sense, it is the "dominant" occasion, presiding over the occasions that constitute the soma. There is a dance between the body and the soul, each influencing the other in an on-going fashion.

II. Radical Novelty and Continuity Through Time

The psyche’s ability to introduce and handle novelty referenced at the end of the last section, is central to its functioning. This drive toward novelty is counterbalanced in the human person by the need for continuity and order.7 This tension between novelty and continuity, which is on-going, is central to understanding the development of the mature human psyche. In Whitehead’s philosophy God is the ultimate source of novelty for the world. Novelty enters the world through the initial aim of each occasion; this aim is derived from God. For most occasions, the degree of novelty realized in the final becoming is trivial. For the occasions which constitute the psyche, the degree of novelty realized in the final becoming can be significant.

This tension between novelty and continuity has psychological relevance. In a way that is not initially obvious, this drive for novelty seems to underlie a major area of psychological difficulty the struggle for personal continuity. One of the most painful experiences can be the struggle simply to make it from one moment to the next. This is a common experience for someone stuck in the borderline personality position, though anyone under extreme conditions can feel this way. People wrestling with this condition feel they are about to drop off into the great abyss, to be swallowed up by the black hole of nothingness.8

Developmentally, the infant and toddler need to have others present in order to develop a core sense of self. The mirroring other is necessary for this continuity. This is the contact-withdrawal pattern that Gestalt Therapy describes. As the child develops, the periods between contact, the length of the withdrawal in other words, gradually gets longer, and the length of the contact may grow less. Under stress, the need for contact increases. The contact with the caregiving other helps to bridge the psyche from one moment to the next, before the psyche can do it on its own. Gradually under optimal conditions, this continuity becomes a part of the personal order that is inherited from moment to moment. The sameness of the caring other is taken in whole and becomes the sameness of the psyche. At first, this does not endure many moments. The infant needs constant (loving) attention. This is taken in through touch, smell, sound and sight, as well as directly. When things go well, the continuity is extended gradually for increasing lengths of time. The toddler can run away from the care-giver, only needing to sight the care-giver from time to time, before feeling compelled to fly back and grab hold once again. Unfortunately many children do not receive the steady care that enables them to achieve a strong psyche. For them, the problem of continuity through time continues.

Why are humans faced with this extraordinarily difficult challenge? Whitehead’s cosmology suggests that we face the struggle for continuity as a result of God’s appetite for novelty Bringing novelty into creation disrupts continuity. One cannot truly and radically change and stay the same. The crucial, life-shaping tension is between reiteration from the past (where the past largely shapes the present in a causal fashion) and the freedom to make new decisions, to be different from the past. Much of creation is overwhelmingly causally determined. The psyche, in potential at least, is not. However, to be this free runs the risk of discontinuity (if the disconnection from the past is great enough). This also runs the risk of chaos, which is the opposite of order. As previously discussed, the subjective experience of discontinuity and chaos is a painful reality for many clients.

When there is this continuity, there exists what Whitehead in Process and Reality calls a "living person,"9 an uncommon and tenuous phenomenon: "It is not of the essence of life to be a living person" (107). Furthermore, "central personal dominance is only partial, and in pathological cases is apt to vanish" (109). "There are limits to such unified control, which indicate dissociation of personality; multiple personalities in successive alternations, and even multiple personalities in joint possession" (107). This "living person" is what we experience ourselves to be from moment to moment, at least when we have some sense of continuity. Whitehead’s cosmology asserts that we inherit mentality (including new possibilities) from previous instances of the psyche. On the one hand, this inheritance provides a stable structure. This is because each new instance of the psyche includes mentality that existed in previous Instances of the psyche. This similarity from moment to moment creates a relatively continuous structure that exists over time. On the other hand, this mental structure imports novelty from the one’s past as well as from God. Thus, novelty and continuity are held together.

The process perspective on these issues anticipates radically different problems than the substantialist point of view The latter is not able to account for radical, purposive novelty. That is, if everything is causally related thing-to-thing, there is no accounting for novelty. Event A causes event B, event B causes event C, and so on. How can there be any true novelty in this perspective? If true novelty arose, what would be its source? This point of view is not compatible with the underlying assumptions in psychotherapy concerning freedom of choice and individual responsibility for growth and change. In the Whiteheadian cosmology, however, radical, purposive novelty is the aim of the universe. In turn, this phenomenon gives rise to a major psychological struggle concerning continuity.

III. Confluence and Boundaries

Whitehead’s theory of perception underlies the discussion in this paper at a number of points, including this and the following section. As shown elsewhere (Roy Value, Toward), his theory of perception and his theory of concrescence are well-correlated. For example, perception in the mode of causal efficacy is correlated with first phase of concrescence, involving physical feelings and the physical pole of the occasion. Perception in the modes of presentational immediacy and symbolic reference are correlated with propositional feelings and intellectual feelings, respectively These latter are activities of the mental pole of the occasion. This section will look at the relationship between the activities of the physical pole (including causal efficacy) and the psychologically important issue of boundaries. The psychological issues related to the other modes of perception, involving the mental pole, will be taken up in subsequent sections.

If one takes Whitehead’s analysis seriously as a description of the dynamics and issues of the psyche, then one would have to conclude that a major psychological struggle would be the establishment of good boundaries. This is because the phase of physical feelings is dominated by conformal experience. Each occasion conforms to the influence which comes to it from the past, including its predecessor occasions but also from the body from other human beings, and the larger universe. This is in contrast to the substantialist point of view which finds it very difficult to account for intimacy and merger. In the substantialist perspective, one could only have superficial relations. Poor boundaries would not be a valid psychological issue from this ontological orientation. The challenge from a substantialist point of view is to explain intimacy and merger on the one hand, and why creating good boundaries is such a struggle on the other hand.

The concept of boundaries is important, both in the clinical literature and in the popular (self-help) literature. Many people have difficulty with appropriate boundaries. Either the boundaries are too loose or permeable, or they are too tight and impermeable. For example, the person stuck in the borderline personality disorder position seems to have boundaries that are too loose, both interpersonally and intrapsychically. By contrast, the person stuck in the narcissistic personality disorder position seems to have boundaries that are too rigid, both interpersonally and intrapsychically.

Whitehead’s analysis reveals the underlying dynamics of what are termed boundaries. In the extreme, there are no boundaries in the physical pole of the occasion (the phase of physical feelings).10 By contrast, there are absolutely rigid boundaries in the mental pole of the occasion (involving the higher phases of concrescence). In the extreme of the physical pole, the subject is totally receptive to what comes to it -- not just receptive, but conformal. In this extreme state, the experience is of being utterly at the mercy of forces beyond one’s control. Initially at least, these controlling forces are virtually the entire past universe, including God. By contrast, in the extreme of the mental pole the subject is totally self-caused; it decides upon its own integration of what it has received. In this mode, we are the master of our own fate, answerable to no one except ourselves. The actual experience we have most often is some variable ratio of these two extremes. For some it may be that the relationship alternates between these two extremes from moment to moment; and that for others, it is a more integrated experience each moment (though still potentially variable).

Another issue related to boundaries is the common sense understanding of "inside" and "outside." When dealing with boundaries, we tend to employ a spatial metaphor, talking about what is "inside" and what is "outside" one’s boundaries. Being clear about boundaries is considered today to be a foundation for emotional well-being, individuation, and so forth. Further, when people have something "inside" them, it is either helpful or unhelpful, but it is resistant to change. A person may have a lot of shame "inside," or a lot of good self-esteem. However, from a process point of view, these discussions often have a substantialist ring. "Inside" connotes a container which holds qualities, an understanding that process philosophy firmly rejects. This issue is resolved when we realize that one’s self-image or self-object is but an aspect of the psyche. One’s self-object includes some characteristics and excludes others, including those that are present within the larger psyche. Which characteristics are included (both consciously and unconsciously) affects the decisions that are made.

Also important from a process perspective is that the characteristics which are included can be changed from one instance of the psyche to the next. Each new moment is a new opportunity. While experience tells us that change is not easy, process thought affirms that it is possible. (This idea will be expanded in later sections.)

IV. Perception in the Mode of Presentational Immediacy and Separation

George Bernard Shaw is reputed to have said, "I don’t know who discovered water, but it certainly wasn’t a fish." By the same token, it is difficult for members of our culture to understand presentational immediacy since it is very much the "water" in which we swim. To switch metaphors, presentational immediacy is the lens through which we view reality under most circumstances. Biologically and psychologically vision is by far the dominant sensory modality, and vision is a prime example of perception in the mode of presentational immediacy.

It is in this mode that we perceive reality as it is presented in its immediacy In this sense, it is reality here and now. Certain additional features are dominant in this mode, including separateness, discrimination, organization, vividness, and distinctness. This mode of perception is an operation of the mental pole, and in keeping with the requirements of the mental pole, there are the twin emphases of separateness and of being self-caused: perceptions in this mode are, Whitehead says, "to a large extent controllable at will." (Symbolism 23)

It is out of this mode that we analyze and act upon the world around us. This mode, taken by itself; seems to support the substantialist view of reality. Also it is vital to human development. It is out of this mode that we learn to be self-contained individuals capable of autonomy self-support, and self-direction. Without the full development of these and related features, a person cannot be a mature adult in our culture.

Ideally the separateness of presentational immediacy is offset by its merger with causal efficacy. Life has balance. Often, of course, the balance is not present and we see people who are pseudo-separate. They are incapable of the back and forth dance between the two perceptual modes, and are stuck in a rigid separateness without sufficient access to connection or emotion. Persons who are captives of the schizoid personality disorder are an extreme example of this. These people are highly detached and virtually flat emotionally. They see no need for emotional attachments or intimate relationships. Less extreme and more common would be people with an obsessive-compulsive personality disorder.11 Individuals like this operate with a fairly high degree of detachment from others, forcing their agendas upon others in order to accomplish what they believe is necessary Those with this disorder may be well-meaning and even caring in their own mind, but they lack significant capacity for empathy sympathy and compassion. They find it very difficult to feel another’s feelings (or even their own). Others are objects to be controlled for the desired end.

V. Internal Relations

One of the concepts that flows from Whitehead’s cosmology is an understanding of internal relations as distinct from external relations. The "common sense" reality that most of us assume to be true is based on the sense of external relations. I am here and you are there, and we do not relate except externally. We can do things to each other (and to other features of our world), but we do not become a part of each other. This is a function of perception in the mode of presentational immediacy.

However, we are only truly external when we are contemporaries -- i.e., subjects at exactly the same moment. Otherwise, internal relations play an essential role in our constitution each moment. In the phase of physical feelings (the perceptual mode of causal efficacy), there is the influx of the entire past universe of occasions. Obviously the vast majority of what flows into the psyche is not taken up in its final integration, but the potential is there. Whitehead even goes so far as to say that the impress of what is excluded remains a part of the final synthesis. Practically speaking, however, this principle makes it clear that not only is our own past a part of us each moment, but also the influence of those around us and of our environment.

In therapy this becomes the basis of what classical analysis has called projective identification, whereby clients induce in therapists at least some of the feelings that originated in other relationships. It also means that therapists take in clients’ emotions, ideas, attitudes -- for better and for worse; and vice versa: clients inherit the therapists’ feelings as well, also for better and for worse. Properly utilized, this exchange can be useful in guiding and effecting the healing process, particularly when done with the guidance of the initial aim.12

The doctrine of internal relations illumines Murray Bowen’s notion of the "family ego mass," including why and how family members influence each other so profoundly and why it can be so difficult to differentiate from this "mass."13 Family members, even in those families that act distant, saturate each other with their influence. Bowen’s concept of differentiation, whereby people become increasingly able to be proactive instead of emotionally reactive in the context of a family also is supported by the notion of internal relations. Differentiation, that is, involves a shift from the primacy of the physical pole to the primacy of the mental pole. (This will be elaborated in the final section of this paper.)

Likewise, a process view of internal relations clarifies the nature of the struggle at the heart of all intimate relationships, namely the dance between contact and withdrawal, intimacy and separation, merger and autonomy. This shifting dance, which catches up every couple, is the dance between the primacy of the physical pole and the primacy of the mental pole for the life of the couple. Romantic love involves an intense period of merger and intimacy (as well as, often, a large dose of denial). This is the primacy of the physical pole. Yet these two people are individuals, and eventually each needs to return to a greater sense of separateness. If the couple cannot achieve greater separateness, or cannot return safely to a merged position once the separateness has been reached, the couple will have chronic difficulties. Both modes are important to the life of the individuals that are coupled, just as these same modes are important to each actual occasion.

This concept touches on the confusion surrounding where and how to assign responsibility for conflicts in marriages and other long-term, committed relationships. The nearly universal wisdom in psychotherapy today is that each member of a couple must take individual responsibility for his or her thoughts, emotions, and actions. Blame of the following type generally is not allowed: "He made me feel bad," or, "She drove me to it." Yet the truth from a process perspective is more complex than this. The process view of internal relations forces us to admit that other people really do make a difference to us because they literally become a part of who we are. Our experience of them becomes a part of us. This does not change the ultimate importance of assuming responsibility for one’s total being, however. Succumbing to cheap blame avoids growth. But the process perspective on internal relations does suggest why it can be an enormous struggle to achieve a sense of separateness, a degree of autonomy sufficient to keep one from being overwhelmed by the moods, thoughts, and emotions of one’s partner. It also explains why one person can be truly "toxic" to another person.

In addition, this concept clarifies why the quality of a person’s general environment is so critical. Our world literally becomes a part of us each moment, in a direct, non-mediated fashion. If we live in squalor, this squalor becomes a part of who we are. If we live in a place of beauty, this beauty becomes a part of who we are -- in the most intimate fashion imaginable. This perspective supports the branches of psychotherapy that are concerned about the impact of the environment on mental health.

VI. Metaphors, Grounded Possibilities, and Projections

(a) Through a Glass Darkly: Navigating in Reality, and Beyond

Whitehead analyzed in depth how we perceive both actuality and possibility and the different ways we combine the two. The results of this analysis touch on matters at the core of psychotherapy including projections and metaphors, as well as how the lure of imagination can lead to much needed change.

The entry to this discussion is through his concept of propositions and propositional feelings (literally the feelings a subject has of propositions). For Whitehead, a proposition is a unique joining of a subject and a predicate (or pattern). Instead of either the subject or the predicate being felt in their unique fullness, each is felt in partial fashion.

In the barest terms, a proposition might he, "This [subject] is a ball [predicate or pattern]." There is the subject, this, to which the pattern ball is said to apply. In the perceptions that we encounter in the consulting room, we can perform the same analysis: "This husband of mine [subject] is self-centered [predicate or pattern]." "My wife [subject] is lazy [pattern], just like my mother [another pattern]." Other important propositions might include the understanding that "I [subject] deserve to be safe, powerful, important [various patterns]" -- when none of these patterns currently are linked with the client’s psyche. One can also see that these statements, which are all propositions, are really theories, which may be true or false. For Whitehead, false propositions are as important as ones that are true, for they lead to the introduction of novelty into actuality and potentially yield intense experience.

The perception of propositions is the domain of the mental pole of the psyche. Propositions are components in consciousness, but alone they do not yield consciousness.14 Whitehead determined there are two classes of propositions, perceptive and imaginative. The difference between these two general classes is determined by the source of the data which give rise to the predicate or form of the proposition. In perceptive propositions, the data which give rise to the predicate are derived from the subject.15 In the case of imaginative propositions, the data which are the source for the predicate are derived from a different source.

While imaginative propositions are often false in a factual sense, they are central to growth and healing. This is because they can function as lures for change. The possibilities that are not now realized call to us from the future, charming us, even captivating us, with their potential. Imaginative propositions can reveal new possibilities about a given.

(b) Projections: Is It Real or Imagined?

Imaginative propositions also provide the basis for what are commonly called projections, where a here-and-now figure is seen and treated as someone from the past. The pattern from the past is tied to the subject in the present. Projections often are revealed when a person will have a response to a situation or person that may seem far too intense. While the spouse who is mistaken for a parent typically has at least some of the offending qualities, the response is disproportionate to the offense. The "pattern" of the parent, which is superimposed on the spouse, stirs the intensity of the original reactions in childhood. A few examples: a man reacts to his mother’s weekly telephone call by having an epileptic seizure; a bright, talented, personable woman is unshakably convinced she is worthless, incompetent and unlikable; a man is filled with debilitating dread when he turns to what matters most to him a woman falls into a major depression when her adult daughter moves out of town. In work with couples, this issue is apparent much of the time. Motives are misread repeatedly by both parties. A flash of disgust from her husband, and the wife reacts with rage, for this was the way her mother treated her over and over. Because of this, the wife insists he doesn’t love her, though he does deeply. However, her "mistakes" trigger in him the shaming response that he originally received from his father.

What we see much of the time in the consulting room are examples of imaginative propositions treated as though they are accurate or true perceptive propositions. What this means is that the form or predicative pattern is coupled with a different subject than the subject that originally exemplified the form. There are two goals. The first is to uncouple the form from the here and now subject; and the second is to reattach it to the there and then subject. This can be a slow difficult, and painful process.

For the first four examples above this means: (1) coming to grips with the pain from and rage at a mother who repeatedly used her son for her own emotional needs. The mother of today is seen as though she were the mother of many years ago; and the client also sees himself as the weak, vulnerable, helpless little boy that he was, not as the powerful, adult male that he is today. (2) Admitting to consciousness the experience of being raped under age five. This experience taught her that she was worthless, and when she does something of worth, that would cause herself and others to see her differently, she reacts with a violent intensity. (3) Recalling a mother’s abandonment whenever autonomy and male power were displayed. Instead of looking for someone outside himself to support and empower himself; he is working on being the parent to himself; to his fearful little boy. (4) Working through the hurt and anger at being her parents’ least favorite child. Instead of projecting her mother onto her daughter, she needs to learn to mother herself; and to let her daughter be an independent person who is not obligated to care for her mother. In the case of the couple, this means that each partner needs to work through his or her own issues around being abused by shame, and learn to support and be tender with each other, instead of continuing to give and receive the original shame.

In these cases, and many more like them, the original pain in all its fullness has been partially shunted aside. However, the unresolved issue -- as defined by unmet needs or uncontained, unsoothed pain -- continues to arise in these kinds of ways. We call these symptoms, but they are really the cries of the early self-objects seeking to be healed.

(c) The Lure of Metaphors: Soaring Possibilities

While Whitehead did not discuss more than one kind of imaginative proposition, a closer analysis reveals two kinds.16 One type is metaphors. These are luring but not truly realizable. Metaphors cannot directly be grounded. The other type is realizable or grounded possibilities. Because of this, they can function as lures for immediate action. An example of the second type is the lure to alphabetize ones bookcase. This might yield an orderly bookcase. An example of the first type is the urge to soar like angels. While no one literally soars like an angel, the form of "soaring" may indeed characterize many aspects of the outcome. These two kinds of imaginative propositions show up in different ways in therapy.

The term metaphor is popular in psychotherapy. Milton Erikson, considered by many to be a master therapist, was reputedly a wizard at working with clients’ metaphors. He healed them by reworking a problematic metaphor (usually by telling a story after having experienced the client’s metaphors for a time. Dreams and fantasies are seen as metaphors. The Oxford dictionary gives this definition: "The application of a name or descriptive term or phrase to an object or action to which it is imaginatively but not literally applicable."

Metaphors have great value for the process of psychotherapy They are unique lures for change. In addition, they do not have to contend with the massiveness of the experience of sheer actuality in its unchanging givenness. A man who lacks a sense of manhood can rather quickly go on a quest for initiation and experience a great number of the feelings that a real quest would encounter. A woman who is often outwitted by her controlling, seductive father introject can become the wildcat in the dream, and feel new power and strength that carries over into the "real" world. Metaphors can quickly create complex unities or contrasts out of otherwise incompatible material.

Further, metaphors can function at a deep level to pull us toward new, rich and complex ways of being over an extended period of time. Because they are so unrealistic in any immediate sense, they can continue to pull and shape indefinitely always pulling and shaping reality in the direction of the underlying form. In the Judeo-Christian tradition, "do unto others as you would have them do unto you," and, "love your neighbor as yourself;" are two core metaphors. While they are seldom the prevailing pattern of reality, they continue to lure and inspire humanity toward more humane relationships.

In therapy metaphors can function in the same way. First and foremost, clients frequently generate their own metaphors which produce growth and healing They do this in dreams, day-dreams, and guided imagery. The therapeutic task is to support this growth and healing. Secondly a lot of what is learned in therapy is metaphorical. For example, it is possible to see that the therapeutic relationship itself is a metaphor. Where else in life can one expect to find a relationship that is supposed to be so carefully thoughtfully, intentionally and massively geared to the needs of another human being? Not even the best parent can be expected to measure up to this supreme selflessness. Certainly no spouse or life partner can -- or should -- come close to this. Yet the outcome of the metaphor of therapy can be healing, for the person ideally will come to value his or her worth in a way that will be internalized and therefore continue long past the end of treatment.

In a related vein, the nature of the relationship that the client establishes with the therapist, traditionally called transference, can be described as a metaphor. A man, furious at his mother for molesting him, yet afraid to direct his anger at her, attempts to destroy the therapeutic relationship with the counselor by threatening suicide as he leaves the session. The counselor is forced to alert his family and the police, thereby potentially causing him to feel still more estranged. The whole exchange is governed by the pattern of his understandable rage at his mother; but it is directed at the counselor as the substitute subject. If successfully resolved (which it was in this case), this metaphor can become a lure for change, for healing the old wound.

In addition to their value as lures for change, metaphors also have value as buffers for clients between total denial and the full experience of pain. They soften the blow of harsh reality. The symbol and the meaning are only partially joined. The full force of the meaning is not added to the full force of the actuality. When the two are fully joined, one has the most intense experience. When this involves acute trauma, this can be devastating to the person. A tender, vulnerable three-year-old boy-self is disguised as a puppy. The abandonment and abuse of the puppy though painful, is not as intense as the full and accurate memory.

Metaphors also can effect healing. Rescuing and soothing the puppy which is easier to accomplish than trying to touch directly upon the white hot core of pain, overlaps with the child self which appears in the guise of the puppy. While the metaphorical soothing may not be as complete as direct healing at the time of wounding, it does help. New possibilities (of rescuing, containing and soothing) become attached to the original (though disguised and therefore incomplete) actuality. Even in this case, the metaphor of the puppy is a lure for change, for it brings together the unfinished pieces, serving as a stage in their eventual integration.

(d) Where the Rainbow Ends: Grounded Possibilities

Grounded possibilities are known first as realistic plans -- the "goals and objectives" of contemporary life. Some of them flow from metaphors, which function more like general visions for the future. A local artist is famous for making ceramic statues of a lion and a lamb lying side by side. Each one of these statues is a metaphor. Yet, this image pulls on our hearts, moving some in the community to take concrete steps to make this area a more peaceful place. To achieve this goal requires a plan with an exceedingly complex set of very concrete actions: grounded possibilities.

VII. Dissociation

To dissociate means to disconnect or become disconnected. It is from the Latin, dissociare; the root is dis- (indicating separation) and socius (companion). The Psychiatric Dictionary, by Robert Jean Campbell, defines dissociation as

Segregation of any group of mental processes from the rest of the psychic apparatus; dissociation generally means a loss of the usual interrelationships between various groups of mental processes with resultant almost independent functioning of the one group that has been separated from the rest. As so defined, dissociation and ‘splitting’ are approximately equivalent [. . .]; the mental mechanism of isolation [. . .] can also be considered a type of dissociation.

Campbell refers to multiple personalities and sub-personalities as being "‘dissociated’ from the total personality." His definition of semantic dissociation is relevant: "The distortion between symbol and meaning that is characteristic of the thought disorder of many schizophrenics."

Two general classes of dissociation are mentioned in Campbell’s definition. The first is the splitting apart of so-called mental processes (e.g., thoughts from feelings, any of the sensory modalities from each other or from feelings, as well as symbol from meaning). The second has to do with the splitting apart of personality streams, resulting in disconnected personalities (either multiple or sub-personalities). The first class will be discussed below. The second will be discussed in the section on contrasts.

Whitehead’s discussion in Symbolism is relevant to the first kind of dissociation. In this dissociative experience, it would appear that there is a breakdown in the perceptual process of symbolic reference, that is, a breakdown in the relationship between the symbol (perceived via presentational immediacy) and the meaning (perceived via causal efficacy). This accounts for two kinds of experiences. One is memory without feeling and the other is feeling without memory. More precisely, memory is better understood as predominantly visual memory, for the detached feeling is actually an affective (or somatic) memory.

An example of the first case (visual memory without feeling) is a man whose mother beat him repeatedly with wire whips. He had virtually no feelings attached to the events -- no fear, no anger, nothing. Victims of abuse frequently will minimize the importance of the abuse. We see many examples of the second (feelings without visual memories). People will have feelings steal over them for no apparent reason: dread, anxiety, fear, anger, depression. I call these affective memories. People also have somatic memories (feeling suffocated, aches in muscles, tightness in the throat, etc.).

VIII. The Self

The concept of the self is central to certain major contemporary psychological theories (e.g., Self Psychology and Object Relations). How does the concept of the self relate to the concept of the psyche from a process perspective? Often it seems that one’s self and one’s psyche are phenomenologically different. Yet the notion of the self as a subordinate agency within a dominant occasion is ontologically impossible. This apparent distinction between self and psyche arises from the sense that people have of being a part of a much larger experiential field. The self seems to journey into the depths of the soul.

An example of this emerged clearly in a therapy session: A woman was sitting in the office, terrified that a relative who molested her severely from early childhood through adolescence would hurt her for being angry at him and for telling the therapist about what this relative did to her. At the time of the session, however, the actual perpetrator was old and incapacitated, incapable of harming her in the way he once did. While doing guided imagery, she decided to surround herself with more than 100 jungle cats. To bolster the protection, she invited two human protective figures into the center. Nonetheless, she still did not feel safe. The therapist suggested she ask the two figures if the cats could protect her. They reassured her that she was safe. She still felt very uneasy. The therapist suggested she ask them what she could do to reassure herself that she was safe. They replied that she needed to learn to trust their confidence that she was safe now. She experienced the two figures as totally confident, relaxed. Yet she, her self was still terrified. She continued to work on this in different ways so that she (her self) could appropriate the needed confidence. All of the images -- the 100-plus jungle cats, the two humans -- were her creations, were experiential components of her psyche. The experiences of feeling confident and safe were aspects of her "inner" world yet, she, as her self did not feel safe.

This apparent distinction between the self and the psyche can be explained by understanding that there are two basic dimensions of the self. The first is self as agency; the second is self as identity. In process terms, the self as agency is the dominant occasion at the moment of subjectivity. The self as identity, on the other hand, is a society of past dominant occasions which bear certain characteristics in common. The self as agency is who we are in our fullness each moment. The self we feel ourselves as being is an object from the past. Ontologically, the self of the present moment cannot objectify itself. This self is subject, and subjects can only objectify objects; objects by definition are past. Therefore, any self felt or seen must be an object from the past. The self that is felt is really a se/f-object. The degree to which this self-object is included in the final becoming is the degree to which we in the present moment are reasonably identical with who we have been. The self-object provides identity (and continuity), but it also limits our potential for change. The actual self of the moment could be different. That is, one of the implications of this perspective is the potential for radical freedom in the self of the present moment. Another implication is that there could be multiple identities (multiple self-objects) competing for influence in the present moment.

The subjective experience of familiarity is another way of defining identity. The lack of familiarity as a persistent state is characteristic of depersonalization, one of the family of dissociative disorders. The sense of familiarity is the result of the self as agency comparing the present elements of experience against the self as identity (the self-object). If the elements of the current moment are similar or identical to the elements of the self as identity, there is a sense of familiarity This is experienced as, "This is me." If the elements are dissimilar, this is experienced as, "This is not me."

The self as agent can be anything at all in potential, but it is usually limited to the self as object, the historical self. The most influential member of this personal order is the preceding instance of the self.

In summary, there are four concepts that need to be defined and related to each other:

1. The Psyche: This is the totality of a person’s experience from the present moment of subjectivity on back into the history of the person. The psyche is the same as the "thread of personal order" of which Whitehead writes. Its most basic characteristic is that it is comprised of hybrid physical feelings. This is the same as the soul.

2. The Dominant Occasion: The dominant or presiding occasion is what constitutes the psyche or soul. The psyche is made up of the thread of dominant occasions.

3. The Self: This is the current becoming subject which is the successor to the thread of personal order. This is the same as the dominant occasion or the currently becoming member of the psyche. It is the agency which aims at integration of experience and at the future.

4. The Self-Object: This is a society of occasions which is a part of the thread of personal order (psyche, soul). This society is a society by virtue of having certain features in common. This commonality is what gives rise to identity. Clinical experience suggests there can be a variety of self-objects in the psyche, even in a reasonably healthy individual. The next section looks at this issue in more depth.

IX. Parts Work and Contrasts

A contrast is Whitehead’s term for the unity created out of many components. The components are held together in a harmonized whole. The greater the number and complexity of elements, the greater the depth and intensity of the experience. There are contrasts of contrasts, as well. The failure to produce a contrast results in what Whitehead terms the "inhibitions of opposites" (Process 109). This results in shallow and trivial experience.

The thesis being explored here is that one way to understand the psyche is that it is both a contrast (and a contrast of contrasts) and (as the self) an agent for creating contrasts. The rich experience that defines the psyche in its historical completeness provides most of the elements to be contrasted. The balance of the elements to be contrasted in the newly becoming self (dominant occasion) come from the brain and the rest of the body, the environment, and the initial aim from God.

The self in each instance of becoming struggles for unified, intense, meaningful, purposeful and continuous experience. In this struggle, it produces contrasts. The creation of novel contrasts is fundamental to all growth and healing. The self turns parts into partners through contrasts. This notion of parts becoming partners is particularly important for dealing with multiple and sub-personalities, but also important for the other aspects that go into making up a mature self.

(a) A Contrast of Poles and Perception

Perhaps the most fundamental contrast is between the two basic modes perception (which involves the contrast between the physical and the mental pole of the psyche). It is this contrast which gives rise to consciousness. As will be discussed in more depth in the last section of this paper, the pattern of this contrast changes as the self develops, from experience dominated by the mode causal efficacy to experience dominated by presentational immediacy. To summarize, while the mode of causal efficacy includes typically the experience of meaning, it also is dominated by loose boundaries and merging; a sense of being done to; vagueness and poor discrimination; heaviness (including emotions) and primitiveness, and the like. As one moves to the dominance of presentational immediacy there is a shift to experience which provides the symbol, along with a sense of clear boundaries and separation; a sense of doing to others (to that which is separate from self); as well as vividness, distinctness (good discrimination), yet barrenness.

In the context of the distinction between the qualities of the two pure modes of perception (including boundaries), it would be interesting to analyze both Axis I and Axis II disorders in the DSM IV17 I will look at two from Axis II. The borderline personality disorder, for example, would seem to be dominated by the experience of causal efficacy much of the time. Boundaries are loose both interpersonally and intrapsychically; their experience is confusing, disorganized, primitive. The sense of shame is often high and, correspondingly so too is the fear of falling into the black hole. The narcissistic personality disorder would seem to be dominated by presentational immediacy much of the time. Boundaries are tight to the point of being rigid (in order to deflect the shame). This rigidity of boundaries is both interpersonal and intrapsychic. People in this position can seem to be very clear, organized and high functioning.

(b) A Contrast of Selves

As stated elsewhere in this paper, the model of the psyche which seems to best fit clinical experience is one that reflects a multiplicity of dynamic aspects or self-objects. These self-objects seem to fall into two categories. In the first are the self-objects which were split off from the core self due to some kind of trauma. The trauma could be overt abuse (e.g., emotional, physical or sexual), or covert abuse (e.g., neglect). These parts carry a great deal of pain.

In the second category are potential qualities of the self which may or may not be realized to some degree in the self that presents for therapy. These tend to be experienced by the person as more imaginary or fanciful. These parts often carry the potential the person needs to realize for health, such as power, courage, tenderness, the connection to the transcendent, and so forth. Working with multiple self-objects is, in some cases, like doing intrapsychic family therapy In other cases, the distinctions are not as sharp. In fact, there may be a continuum that extends from the true multiple personality disorder to a fully integrated (though not homogenized) self.

The clue to the presence of a split-off self is some kind of symptom, which is that aspect’s inchoate cry. It may be anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts, fear of intimacy, inability to express tender emotions, rage attacks, chronic power struggles, staying in damaging relationships, physical self-damaging acts, inability to set appropriate limits, inability to enjoy life, crippling perfectionism, chronic job dissatisfaction, self-defeating passive aggressive resistance, a stunted career, chronic fatigue syndrome, lupus -- any of a multitude of symptoms. I have found that behind each one of these lies at least one wounded self-object, sometimes several. The therapeutic goal is to create a contrast between the wounded self from childhood and the adult self. The more severe the trauma, the more difficult and challenging it is to create this contrast.

X. The Role of Consciousness

Consciousness, for Whitehead, is the result of the tension (or contrast) between the "in fact" and the "might be" (proposition) about the same fact. Whitehead calls this the "affirmation-negation" contrast, in which the "affirmation" is the "fact" and the "negation" is the "possibility" (since possibility is the negation of actuality). This contrast serves to intensify the experience of the possibilities, thereby revealing more clearly their relevance for this particular moment, here and now:

The main function of these feelings is to heighten the emotional intensity accompanying the valuations in the conceptual feelings involved [ . . .] They perform this by the sharp-cut way in which they limit abstract valuation to express possibilities relevant to definite logical subjects. (Process 272-73)

This has the effect of increasing the probability of the actualization of these relevant yet novel possibilities. In this way, consciousness (or awareness) heightens the possibility of change. A time-honored goal of psychotherapy has been to lift unconscious material to consciousness. A Gestalt Therapy axiom is that awareness is curative. The assumption is that this is healing. Whitehead’s cosmology supports this. This stands in apparent contrast to some approaches to therapy which challenge the necessity to become conscious of one’s process in order to be healed of troubling symptoms.

The issue turns on the question of whether or not troubling symptoms are merely isolated, even disembodied qualities that need to he quashed, cast out, sedated or otherwise subdued -- or whether they are frequently the nonverbal, inchoate cries from disowned, hurting, even tormented, self-objects which were split off as a method of survival.18 Whitehead’s cosmology provides a clear basis for the latter view, and also sheds light on why our culture has a significant bias against this perspective, namely the dominance of presentational immediacy In the extreme, this mode tends to view the world -- including the past -- as separate from the self. Further, in this mode there can be a tendency to emphasize self-control (self-causation) and the primacy of the will. Of course there are other reasons we do not want to deal with the symptoms in their fullness, not the least of which is the pain that these old parts carry

XI. The Structure of Perception and the Phases of the Self

(a) The Phases of the Self

The development of a genuinely robust, mature self takes several years and fairly optimal conditions. Though there is no way to verify this, it would seem that these conditions, in today’s world at least, are seldom met adequately. Whether or not these conditions were met in predecessor societies any better than today is impossible to know.

Three phases can be identified in the development of the mature self. Each phase is dominated in turn by one of three different modal experiences of the self -- self-modes for short. However, these are not neatly packaged; nor are they ever fully or truly separable. The three phases19 are dominated, in succession, by the confluent mode of the self; the discernment mode of the self and the self-transcending or spiritual mode20 of the self.

The progression of confluent, discernment and spiritual phases reflects the general contours of development, not rigid and exclusive categories. It is not the case that first there is only the confluent mode, then only the discernment mode and finally only the spiritual mode. This is because all three modes are components of the psyche. All three modes are components of its process. The differences have to do with the degree to which the self is characterized by the qualities associated with each of the modes.

(b) The Confluent Mode of the Self

This is the mode of experience early in life.21 This mode includes the experience of the past flowing into the present. In the fullness of this mode, what was past is fully represented Indeed, the newly becoming psyche resonates with the past exactly as the past experienced itself. The past, technically speaking, is everything that comes before the present moment of becoming, whether a single moment ago or yesterday or last year or twenty years ago, and so on back. Whitehead uses the word conformal to describe the dominant experience in this phase. This mode is the experience of "gut" feelings (which can be intense) characterized by vagueness, heaviness, primitiveness. Exact discrimination is poor, including localization. What is perceived is experienced as unmanageable, yet the source of meaning. There is a lack of engagement, a sense of extreme relaxation, passivity, a receptive attentiveness. The sense of the body looms large. So, potentially do emotions (what Whitehead calls the subjective form of the more generic category of feelings or prehensions). This also is the experience of being other-determined or other-caused.

Our environment really does make a difference. If we grow up hated, ignored, loved, respected -- this really influences us, at the moment and in the future as well. Even a momentary blast of another’s anger will automatically stir our own anger in a conformal manner.

Whitehead makes it clear that the entire past universe is available to each new occasion of experience, not just one’s personal history. This mode provides for (though does not guarantee) an intimate connection to our brain and the rest of our body, to other persons and to our natural world. It is through this mode that we experience our connection to all of creation, as well as to the Creator: It is through this mode that we can experience mystical union with another or with God. It is the foundation for intimacy The collapse of boundaries, the sense of merging, has to do with the predominance of this mode in the final outcome of the becoming of a particular dominant occasion. When this mode is pervasively dominant, as in early childhood, we may feel we have no boundaries. The degree to which we experience any of these features, however, depends upon what happens in the mental pole of the occasion (to be discussed more later).

(c) The Discernment Mode of the Self 22

For the occasions of experience that make up most of creation, the present is almost completely conformal to the past. Life, in particular the life of the human psyche, is an exception. The seeds of novelty find some fertile soil. Here the mental pole is prominent. The two remaining self modes (discernment and spiritual) are both encompassed by the operations of the mental pole.

In the discernment mode, the self is dominated by the experiences of detachment, separateness, discrimination. Experience is organized. Perceptions are vivid and distinct. Discernment corresponds with Whitehead’s perception in the mode of presentational immediacy. The self takes the vague, chaotic welter of data, and weaves a unique, unified and harmonized creation. Perceptions in this mode are much more manageable than in the first mode; they are, Whitehead says, "to a large extent controllable at will." (Symbolism 23)

This mode includes the experience of reality as it is presented in its immediacy. Visual experience is a good example of perception dominated by this mode. This mode includes the perception of solid things out there. What flows into the psyche in the confluent mode is projected back onto the world in this mode. Between these two modes, we have the basis for both merger and separation, for oneness and for otherness.

X’hat may not be as apparent from this summary is that this mode is also the locus of all projection, both accurate and inaccurate. That is, what comes into the psyche in the confluent mode is projected back onto reality in the discernment mode, enabling us, among many other things, to maneuver physically in the world. However, it is entirely possible to receive data which arise from a different time and place and project them onto the here and now. This happens frequently in therapy. It is the foundation of transference, for example.

This mode brings with it a sense of self-determination; the sense of being self-caused belongs to this mode. This mode allows us to accomplish great things, but if our experience is continuously dominated by this mode, we also run a very real risk of creating the very problems that plague our culture and inflict at least some of the damage on the people we see in therapy. For example, when this mode dominates, we tend to emphasize our separateness and our detachment. In the extreme, this yields a cold, uncaring heart, unconcerned about our fellow humans, let alone our world. The dominance of this mode also accounts for our loss of the sense of the sacred in ourselves and in the ordinary world around us.

(d) The Spiritual Mode of the Self

The spiritual mode of the self comes into being long before the self enters the spiritual phase of development. As previously stated, it is well to keep in mind that all three modes are present to some degree all along the developmental continuum.

One of the characteristics of this mode discussed in both Process and Reality and Symbolism is that it is the experience of the relationship between the two previous modes. In some fashion, symbol (discernment) is joined with meaning (confluent). For Whitehead, the interrelationship between the two modes can also result in consciousness.

Connecting the symbol with the meaning can be a very intense, rich, powerful experience. For example, a man had had recurring images of a face contorted with rage. The image was detached, both visually and emotionally. He had sometimes wondered if it were his mother, but dismissed this idea, for his memories of her did not include this kind of rage. One day in a session, the image of the face began to look more like his mother; then it was followed by an image of a breast. He also became aware that he was salivating profusely. Despite wanting to dismiss the experience as meaningless, he continued to hold all of this in awareness. Suddenly he burst into tears, saying that his mother was screaming at him because he wanted to be fed. Though his mother was dead, he was able to learn from his father that his mother had had an extremely difficult and painful time with breast feeding, finally abandoning it in favor of bottle feeding. As he reflected on the paradigm of this memory several significant and confusing pieces of his life finally made sense (why for example, he would be in relationships where he would be attacked when he tried to meet a natural need).

On the one hand, the spiritual mode allows us to perceive the world as it is; and on the other, as it might be. Therapy often involves helping people be clear about both perceptions. As suggested by the perception of what might be, but is not yet, the introduction of novelty is an important function of this mode. It is the interplay between what is vs. what might be -- with a full, deep experience, knowledge and perception of each -- that is perhaps the core characteristic of the spiritual phase, yielding eventually the soulful self.

According to Whitehead, one of God’s chief aims is the evocation of intensities; and the way this is accomplished is through the introduction of novelty. The psyche and the self are caught up in this drama -- indeed, they are primary instruments for this drama. The psyche is the presiding or dominant occasion in each instant, presiding over and inheriting from the brain and the body. However, the psyche does not simply repeat its predecessor It is a new creation each moment, with far less allegiance to the past when compared with, say occasions that make up the body. The role of the initial aim (which introduces novelty) potentially can be quite significant for the psyche. Thus, each moment can be quite different from the previous moments. In the extreme, this is chaos. In moderation, this can be an experience of creative ecstasy.

As the mature self develops, it gradually increases in its ability to integrate change. It does this by gradually learning to transcend itself. (This process includes such concepts as the observing ego, the self-reflexive self, and the self-transcending self.) The self at the moment of subjectivity does not really look at itself (this is an ontological impossibility in Whitehead’s system).23 However, what it is doing is observing its predecessors from a different point of view. To achieve this, it must stand outside of or diminish the influence of its predecessors. The causal force of the past is weakened; the new instance of the self is not fully conformal to its predecessors. This has the effect of increasing the role of the initial aim in making changes for the future.

Clients are frequently dominated by old self-objects or parts of themselves, yet remain unaware of these parts as parts. They so identify with the part that they take it as "themselves." When they finally become aware that this is a part, they begin for the first time to have some real measure of relationship and therefore influence over the feelings and behaviors associated with this part. For example: A woman had been subjected to severe torture at approximately the age of four. As a result of this trauma, she developed a number of traits, including a very quiet, intensely watchful manner. For reasons that are peculiar to the details of the trauma, she also developed an extremely high need for precise accuracy. When she was dominated by this part, mistakes were absolutely not allowed! When she was not dominated by this part, she could be relaxed, spontaneous, playful. After considerable work with this part, she finally developed the capacity to see it and relate to it without either being taken over by it or banishing it. One day she spontaneously realized she was caught up with the mood of this part, and laughed, saying. "You’ve seen a lot of her over the years, haven’t you."

As this kind of experience becomes more and more important for how the self comes to constitute itself; it becomes both increasingly spiritual and soulful. It is increasingly spiritual because the role of God’s Spirit (via the initial aim) becomes increasingly the dominant influence in the self. It is increasingly soulful because it also gains in its capacity to include all that is present in the psyche (or soul). As the past is re-presented in the present, this means that the soulful self is increasing in its capacity to integrate the full measure of the past in a new and healing way in the present.

XII. The Nature and Source of Healing

(a) A Definition of Being Healed

Persons are healed when: (1) They can sustain conscious contact with their wounded parts (self-objects) without having to banish them and without being overwhelmed by them. (2) They can provide directly or indirectly what the wounded part originally needed at the time of the wounding. This new solution to the problem is the same as the creation of a novel contrast. (3) The parts are capable of experiencing creativity, self- and other-care, intimacy, joy, self-support, vulnerability, playfulness, purposefulness, and resilience -- some of the characteristics that are associated with the soulful self. (4) The parts can work as partners in helping to reach the overall goals of the person

(b) The Initial Aim and Healing

According to Whitehead, God is the source of all healing possibilities, including both metaphors and grounded possibilities. These possibilities come to us from God via the initial aim. This initial aim for each moment is an imaginative possibility, the one whose realization is best for that occasion and the future which will be impacted by that occasion. This initial aim is fundamental to the creation of novel contrasts.

God’s possibilities fly like angels into our souls, unbidden, luring us, coaxing us in the direction of health and wholeness. We ignore these angels often, and at our peril. When we do heed their call, we are furthered along our own healing journey -- and in turn further the healing journey for others. However, the call is not always toward bliss, at least not directly. Sometimes it is toward deep pain, pain that was buried or set aside ages ago. When this old pain is faced, and the necessary healing is accomplished, then we do move toward wholeness.

 

Notes

1. This article is a significant revision of "The View from the Chair: The Emergence of the Soulful Self;" originally presented at the conference on Whitehead and Psychotherapy, October, 1992, in Claremont, CA.

2. Subjectivity, for the human psyche, does not necessarily include the kind of experience we call consciousness; but it always includes experience. We are our experience at the present moment.

3. Under optimum circumstances, the immediate past may have the most influence upon the newly developing subject. However, there is no reason that a moment that occurred twenty years ago cannot have the same influence. Clinical experience teaches one that long-past moments of intense wounding have great sway over the present subject -- whether or not this is consciously recognized.

4. Whitehead referred to this occasion as the dominant, presiding or regnant occasion of the body.

5. A client of mine told me of reading a publication by a manufacturer of antidepressant medication which stated that psychotherapy was rarely indicated for depression. Our brain chemistry is critical, but the chemistry serves as messengers. I would submit that if a person were tied up and faced a speeding car coming at him or her five times a day for five years, that this person’s body chemistry would be radically and perhaps permanently altered. (This treatment parallels the abuse that many children face, by the way.) No one but the most ardent mind-body dualist would argue that the changes in the person’s chemistry were a random alteration and not the result of the repeated trauma. Yes, chemical intervention can be very, very important. But just because we can intervene with chemicals does not make our essence chemical.

6. See David Ray Griffin’s Unsnarling the World Knot.

7. Continuity and order require repetition, which is the antithesis of novelty.

8. The fear of falling into nothingness at this stage of the development of the self is to be distinguished from the resistance to "post-self" selflessness. One must have a strong self before the self can be transcended. Few people are at this stage of development.

9. A "person" in this case refers to a personally ordered society of occasions. A personal order has only temporal depth, no spatial depth. "Living" refers to the presence of novelty in the mental pole.

10. This correlates with the confluent mode of the psyche, as will be developed later in the paper.

11. Many people have obsessive-compulsive traits without having a true personality disorder. Someone with a personality disorder approaches all situations with the same structure. Further, they see the problem outside of themselves. Others have the problem, not them.

12. I have elaborated on this in "Spirituality and Psychotherapy: A Common Ground Across Boundaries."

13. cf. Murray Bowen, Family Therapy in Clinical Practice.

14. Consciousness arises by the combination of the feeling of a proposition (known as a propositional feeling) with the feeling of the actuality itself. The comparison of the theory (subject plus predicate or form) with actuality is done by an intellectual feeling, and this yields consciousness.

15. For perceptive propositions, the conceptual counterpart (conceptual feeling of the form, or eternal object, realized in the subject) is taken from the same physical feeling that indicates the logical subjects of the proposition. For imaginative propositions, this is not the case. The data come from two different sources.

16. I am indebted to John Cobb for this clarification.

17. The DSM IV is the fourth major edition of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual for the American Psychiatric Association. Axis I disorders include a wide number of disorders (including anxiety and depression, for example). Axis II disorders include the personality disorders.

18. This problem is being further aggravated today with the domination by managed health care. The philosophy of managed health care actively works against a psychodynamic, historical view of the psyche. The unconscious is to be avoided. Treatment is to be oriented exclusively toward symptom relief using cognitive and behavioral approaches, and is to be only short term.

19. The phases and the modes have the same names. I see no necessity to give them different names. As implied, a given phase lasts as long as a given mode is the prevailing mode. Originally, I had considered using the names for the three self-modes from Gestalt Therapy. (See Perls, et al.) These three modes are id, ego and middle. In 1951, Perls, et. al., were still working somewhat within Freud’s framework, but they were intent upon describing the mind as a process, hence the addition of "mode" to Freud’s categories.

20. The name of this phase was inspired by the work of John B. Cobb, Jr., in particular his book, The Structure of Christian Existence.

21. Whitehead approaches this mode of experience in two separate discussions. One is from his theory of perception and the other is from his theory of becoming (which he called concrescence). While I will not be using the names he gives his categories in the following discussion (as they are difficult to hold onto), I do want to mention them as a point of reference. This is perception via the mode of causal efficacy; i.e., the perception of the past as causally efficacious in the present. In his theory of becoming, he called this the phase of physical feelings, which occur in the physical pole of the occasion. There is a corresponding mental pole of the becoming occasion, which will be discussed later. This does not mean that mentality is more important than physicality; the two are polar and both are necessary for full, rich human subjective experience.

22. Discern: v.t. (1) to perceive by the sight or some other sense or by the intellect; see, recognize, or apprehend clearly. (2) to distinguish mentally; recognize as distinct or different; discriminate. v.t. (3) to distinguish or discriminate. (4) discernere to separate. Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary of the English Language. (New York: Gramercy Books, 1989).

23. Subjects can only prehend objects, not other (contemporaneous) subjects.

 

Works Cited

Bowen, Murray. Family Therapy in Clinical Practice. New York: Jason Aronson, 1985.

Cobb. John B., Jr. The Structure of Christian Existence. Philadelphia: Westminster, 1967.

Campbell, Robert Jean. Psychiatric Dictionary. Sixth Edition. Oxford UP, 1989. 211-12.

Griffin, David Ray. Unsnarling the World Knot: Consciousness, Freedom and the Mind-Body Problem. Berkeley: U of California P, 1998.

Oxford Encyclopedic English Dictionary. Eds. Joyce M. Hawkins and Robert Allen. Oxford: Clarendon, 1991.

Perls, Frederick S., Ralph Hefferline and Paul Goodman. Gestalt Therapy: Excitement and Growth in the Human Personality. New York: Delta Book, 1951.

Roy, David. "Spirituality and Psychotherapy: A Common Ground Across Boundaries." The Journal of Pastoral Care 46 (1992): 153-61.

-- Toward a Process Psychology: A Model of Integration. Fresno: Adobe Creations, 2000.

-- "The Value of the Dialogue Between Process Thought and Psychotherapy." Process Studies 14 (1985): 158-74.

Whitehead, Alfred North. Process and Reality. 1929. Corrected Edition, Eds. David Ray Griffin and Donald W. Sherburne. New York: Free Press, 1978.

-- Symbolism: Its Meaning and Effect. New York: Macmillan, 1927.

Whitehead and Locke’s Concept of “Power”

 

I. Introduction

The present paper promotes a basic thesis: Locke, as he presents his main epistemological theory in his celebrated An Essay on Human Understanding, is transformed into a metaphysician by Whitehead in his Process and Reality.

Anyone familiar with the traditions in Western philosophy, particularly with British empiricism, will find my contention somewhat curious, if not to say strange. The apparent strangeness of my thesis, however, happens to disguise one of Whitehead’s great philosophical accomplishments: transforming the prototype of British empiricism, namely Locke and his epistemological doctrines, into an original and useful ontological position carving out of this very transformation a mature philosophical cosmology, namely the "philosophy of organism. It was Locke who turned out to be the most important philosopher for Whitehead in his mature philosophical stages. Initially it was Berkeley’s acute analyses of perception which captured the early Whitehead’s attention. The Whitehead of Science and the Modern World is still very much engaged with Berkeley’s basic positions; however, by the time of Process and Reality Whitehead felt that he solved basic Berkeleyan problems pertaining to the nature of perception and moved on to Locke’s assessment of the "inner constitution of things" with a special emphasis on the notion of "power."1 In fact, the novel notion of "prehension" in Whitehead’s mature epistemology can be traced directly to Whitehead’s critique of Berkeley, who in turn opened the door for Whitehead’s own critique of the "Century of Genius."

The direct link between Whitehead and Locke was the latter’s entertainment of the concept of "power." This, however, can also be said of Leibniz’s relation to Locke and Whitehead.2 In order to come to terms with the concept of "power," establishing the missing link between Locke and Whitehead, we must forward the following questions:

(a) What relevance had the notion of "power" to Locke and Whitehead?

(b) What is the exact status of "power" in Locke’s Essay?

(c) How did Whitehead transform Locke’s notion of "power"?

(d) What is the relationship between "power" and the idea entertained, by both philosophers in question, of the "real internal constitution of things"? and finally,

(e) How important is Locke’s concept of "power" to the development of Whitehead’s mature philosophy of organism as worked out in his Process and Reality?

These are closely related questions I have tried to come to terms with in the present paper and the respective sections. I think we can say this in a preliminary fashion: the reason why Whitehead turned to Locke, again in his mature state of philosophical development, was the very fact that Locke’s Essay embodied all those doctrines and ideas which were so dear to the followers of the "mechanistic Weltanschauung" in the English-speaking camp. Locke was somewhat influenced by Pierre Gassendi, yet he was probably not such a rigorous atomist as was the case with Gassendi. There was far more "speculation" in Locke’s Essay than his staunch admirers would like to admit. It was Whitehead’s shrewd assessment of Locke which made him see that there were, in fact, "speculative moments" in Locke which had not been hitherto explored. Ultimately, it was Whitehead’s philosophical doctrines of "prehension" and "organic atomism" which "up-rooted" the mechanistic view, replacing it with a more congenial "organic Weltanschauung." For it was the "speculative moments" in Locke’s Essay, such as the concept of "power," which helped Whitehead to supplant (aufheben) the original problem of the "bifurcation of nature." This was the quintessential problem Whitehead had in his mind since the very early Twenties and which he, by a strange detour via Berkeley and ultimately Locke, intended to come to terms with in Process and Reality. Whether he succeeded will show itself at the final stage of our century. Whitehead has drawn up the blueprint for a possible future metaphysics; whether it will carry the day in the long run has not yet been decided.

II. The Status of "Power" In the Essay

Locke gives us a significant definition in the chapter on power in the Essay, ‘The power of Perception is that which we call the Understanding’ (Essay, II, XXI, V, 236). This means, in effect, that the Essay inquires into the origin and extent of the power of human perception, and can be understood as a critique of that power of perception or understanding. Unfortunately, Locke’s method of description did not suffice to undertake such a proposed critique.3

Whitehead’s interest focused on the nature of the very constitution of the power of perception. For surveying the phenomenon of power leads us directly in a realm beyond immediate sense-data. If we remained on the level of mere description, we would not have a leverage to treat the problem adequately. Hume was quite aware of that fact and dealt with the problem of power on the level of cause and effect; however, instead of seeing the problem as an ontological one, he too practiced epistemology, perhaps somewhat more sophisticated, but still descriptively. It was Whitehead who transformed the problem of the effects of power, from an epistemological to an ontological problem, into the form of the origin of the constitution of the power of perception.

Locke’s understanding of power was in terms of thinking, and volition, or will. These powers turn out to be the great principles of actions of the mind, or the abilities of the mind.4 However, we should remind ourselves that thinking as well as perceiving are powers of understanding (Essay II, VI, II, 128, and II, XXI, V, 236). It seems that Locke, at this point, was close to one of Whitehead’s ideas: that perception turns out to be a mode of thinking. Whitehead’s analysis is in terms of contrasting, differentiating, and discerning of the very act of perception. This act of perception, again, is the exemplification of a mode of process occurring in the higher organism.

Another statement of Locke is of interest to the philosophy of organism. "For observing in our selves, that we can, at pleasure, move several parts of our Bodies, which were at rest; the effects also, that natural Bodies are able to produce in one another, occurring every moment to our Senses, we both these ways get the Idea of Power" (Essay II, VII, VIII, 131f.). The very idea that we can inspect ourselves, through the organs of our body, say pleasure and pain, and thereby receive an idea of ‘power in the body’ seems quite congenial to a philosophy of organism. However, a small adjustment has to be made -- in Whitehead’s terms we do not ‘receive’ pleasure or pain, i.e., register in a way, as though our reception of these sensations is any different from the very feeling felt; on the contrary, the feeling of pleasure or pain is the very act of power, making its way onto a level of another mode of sensation in terms of volition, denial, or enduring.

Basically Locke holds that power resides within the body. For instance, ". . . the Power to produce any Idea in our Mind, I call Quality of the Subject wherein that power is . . ." (Essay II, VIII, VIII, 134). For Whitehead, there is no distinction, on an ontological level, between subject, power, and quality. Nothing resides ‘within’ something. The very notion of power, produces, to create the very sensation of the simple idea of power -- to use Lockean language. Thus, the production of power itself, gives power, in the last analysis, the very idea thereof. In other words – "power" comprehends its own power in multitudinous forms.

Locke thinks in terms of ‘. . . the power we can consider is in reference to the changes of perceivable Ideas (Essay II, XXI, I, 233)’. This is seen from the vantage point of a subject in the act of perception. Yet, the so-called ‘changes’, in Whitehead’s terms, are to be found within the relations of the powers themselves and not in ‘perceivable ideas’. For these ‘changes of perceivable ideas’ belong to the department of cause and effect, i.e., they are to be treated as the logic of relations.

Locke holds power to be of a twofold nature: passive and active. For instance, the sun has the active power to blanch wax, and wax, the passive power to be blanched -- the change of color, from yellow to white, is a significant proof of some sort of changes taking place. Locke describes the effects of power and reminds us very much of Descartes’ description of his wax example while sitting near his fireplace meditating. The inquiry, however, as to the origin of this very power effecting such a change as to be able to destroy yellowness of the wax is not Locke’s business, as he puts it (Essay II, XXI, II, 234).5 Again, Whitehead’s ontology starts exactly at the point where Locke draws the limits of his inquiry.

Locke is aware that power includes the idea of relation. Yet he seems, as is the case in the following statement, strangely apprehensive as to the nature of these relations. "For our Ideas of Extension, Duration, and Number, do they not all contain in them a secret relation of the Parts ?" (Essay II, XXI, III, 234). The very ‘secret relation of the parts’ is exactly what interests Whitehead.6 The philosophy of organism is conceived in order to come to terms with just such a Lockean problem remaining to be solved -- i.e., this is another example where Locke seems almost afraid to tackle the problem entertained by him.

Another question occurs in the Essay. "For who is it that sees not, that Powers belong only to Agents, and are Attributes only of Substances, and not Powers themselves?" (Essay II, XXI, XVI, 241). Here we have an example of a Whitehead critique of Locke as still presupposing a subject-predicate ontological base of his theory of knowledge. Whitehead’s reply to this question is clear: Why not consider Powers themselves? And this is exactly what we find, particularly, in his Theory of Prehension where the powers are analyzed in terms of prehensions.

At another point Locke almost gave himself a Whiteheadian answer, considering the following statement. "But it is the Mind that operates, and exerts these Powers (e.g. actual singing, actual dancing, actual thinking); it is the Man that does the Action, it is the Agent that has power, or is able to do. For Powers are Relations, not Agents" (Essay II, XXI, XIX, 243). This statement seems quite contradictory:

on the one hand, Locke identifies power with substance (e.g., mind, man, or agent); on the other hand, he defines powers in terms of relations. In Whitehead’s terms, the actual singing, the actual dancing, and the actual thinking are real as exemplifications of modes of the ways of power. The modes of singing, dancing, or thinking are relations expressed in specific forms of energy.

Whitehead once pointed out, in the opening paragraph of this Preface to Process and Reality (PR xi), that Locke’s Essay "most fully anticipated the main position of the philosophy of organism." We can change this to a statement saying: Locke almost always, in dealing particularly with the problem of power, anticipates Whitehead -- yet Locke does not see the consequences of his own insights. A typical example is the following statement. "What moves the mind, in every particular instance, to determine its general power of directing, to this or that particular Motion or Rest? And to this I answer. The motive, for continuing in the same State or Action, is only the present satisfaction in it; The motive to change, is always some uneasiness: nothing setting us upon the change of State, or upon any new Action, but some uneasiness" (Essay II, XXI, XXIX, 249).

Anyone reading this passage with Whitehead in the back of his mind is forced to smile. The passages ‘only the present satisfaction in it’ and ‘some uneasiness seem to fit exactly the Whiteheadian concept ‘lure of feeling’ and its satisfaction in a determinate subjective form. Feeling as a vector-character does not know of any ‘uneasiness’ -- direction and intensity in the form of power take on a definite form of feeling awaiting fulfillment in terms of satisfaction. From a descriptive view, Locke, in the reply to his question gives us a Whiteheadian answer, but in the second part, as to the motive of change, he fails. It is here, from a Whiteheadian point of view, a leverage is found and applied in terms of vector-characteristic of feeling.7

It seems clear that for Locke power inheres in material things which, in turn, have the capacity and ability to produce ideas of primary qualities in us, such as shape, size, extension, or solidity as well as ideas of secondary qualities, such as colors, sounds, smells. In short: power causes changes in material things. Yet, in Locke’s descriptive epistemology, matter and motion, space and time, remain separate entities embedded in a mechanistic universe. The inquiry into the origin of the power would have been metaphysics. This step was taken by Whitehead. The investigation of the specific relationship between power and substance served as an initial step taken by Whitehead to transform Lockean problems on that matter.

III. The Transformation of Locke’s Notion of "Power"

A highly interesting aspect of one form of functioning of Whitehead’s ontological principle is the transformation of Locke’s idea of "power" into a relevant context of the organic doctrine.8 The following quotations should give the reader an adequate account as to how the ontological principle integrates Locke s important concept into the philosophy of organism:

The ‘ontological principle’ broadens and extends a general principle laid down by John Locke in his Essay (Bk. II, Ch. XXIII, Sect. 7), when he asserts that "power" is "a great part of our complex ideas of substances." The notion of ‘substance’ is transformed into that of ‘actual entity’; and the notion of ‘power’ is transformed into the principle that the reasons for things are always to be found in the composite nature of definite actual entities. (PR I, II, I, 18f.)

This quotation can be supplemented by the following:

the notion of ‘power’ is making a principal ingredient in that of actual entity (substance). In this latter notion, Locke adumbrates both the ontological principle, and also the principle that the power’ of one actual entity on the other is simply how the former is objectified in the constitution of the other. Thus the problem of perception and the problem of power are one and the same, at least so far as perception is reduced to mere prehension of actual entities.(PR II. I, VII, 58)

In order to gain a proper perspective as to the motive why Whitehead focuses our attention to the relevant passage in the Essay, we can offer another quotation from the Essay which gives us a fuller description of the notion of "power" within the context of the corpus-cularian theory:9

Nor are we to wonder, that Powers make a great part of our complex Ideas of Substances; since their secondary Qualities are those, which in most of them serve principally to distinguish Substances one from another, and commonly make a considerable part of the complex Idea of the several sorts of them. For our Senses failing us, in the discovery of the Bulk, Texture, and Figure of the minute parts of Bodies, on which their real Constitution and Differences depend, we are fain to make use of their secondary Qualities, as the characteristical Notes and Marks, whereby to frame Ideas of them in our Minds, and distinguish them one from another. All which secondary Qualities, as has been shown, are nothing but bare Powers. For the Color and Taste of Opium, are, as well as its soporific or anodyne Virtues, mere Powers depending on its primary Qualities, whereby it is fitted to produce different Operations, on different parts of our Bodies. (Essay II, XXIII, VIII, 300)

Locke’s interest in ‘power’ is clearly exhibited in the longest chapter of the Essay, namely Chapter XXI of Book II, "OF POWER" (Nidditch edition, pp. 233-87).10 It is a curious fact that, although the aspects of ‘power’ are described by Locke, a careful reading, still, does not yield a clear idea of what ‘power’ really is. We are given examples as to ‘how’ power demonstrates its activity and how we, as human beings, are affected by it. The direct question, what exactly power means, elicits the reply by Locke, as was the case in reference to the notion of ‘substratum’: ‘I know not what’. These unresolved problems were clearly appreciated by Whitehead, who tried to resolve them in his own scheme of thought.

In order to gain a full appreciation of Whitehead’s attempt at resolving Lockean problems it is necessary to see the matter in the proper context. An important aspect, which we find stated in the introduction to the Essay, is Locke’s insistence that he describes things as products of sense-experience and not to pretend to do metaphysics.11 This is the very reason why Locke does not pretend, and at this point he is coherent, to say anything about power, which he cannot, in good conscience, subscribe to -- description must suffice. Whitehead goes beyond this point. He admires Locke’s description of ‘power’, but intends to transform the very concept and elevate it onto an ontological platform. ‘Power’ is treated as a medium, as the process and source of vital nature. Whitehead thinks, of course, in terms of thermodynamics, metabolism, and vectors. ‘Power’ is thus translated and transformed into terms of modern physics and modern biology.

The Introduction to the Essay gives us clues as to Locke’s intention and in what sense Whitehead could agree or disagree with Locke. Interestingly enough, Locke states and defines, in a positive manner, his purpose, and gives the reader reasons as to what the Essay does not propose to do, or inquire into. Thus, we read, ‘This, therefore, being my Purpose to inquire into the Original, Certainty, and Extent of humane knowledge; together, with the Grounds and Degrees of Belief, Opinion, and Assent’ (Essay I, I, II, 43).

Locke’s intention was to find out the origin, certainty, and limits of human knowledge. This program coheres with the method of mere description of things. However, the Essay remains a descriptive epistemology, or, we could also say, the descriptive epistemology of Locke is conceived within a context of "middle-range knowledge." This "middle-range knowledge" (as I term it), ascertains to find the limits of certain knowledge, based on our senses, but does not claim certain knowledge beyond sense-experience. Certain knowledge here means, not absolute or ontological knowledge, but description limited within sense-perception.12 Hence, Locke’s "middle-range knowledge" is descriptive epistemology embedded within a corpuscularian ontology, which is based on sense-experience and the science of mechanics. However, the application of the descriptive method upon areas beyond sense-experience caught the attentive eye of Whitehead. No doubt, there are areas touched upon in the Essay which transgress the limits of the Lockean method -- power, space and time, mathematical objects, causality, the substratum as the internal constitution of things, or divine revelation; Whitehead reiterates these facts in a telling passage: ‘Locke explicitly discards metaphysics. His enquiry has a limited scope’ (PR II, VI, II, 145): In the same chapter, however, Whitehead states, ‘. . . his Essay, however, does contain a line of thought which can be developed into a metaphysics (PR II, VI, II, 146). Here we can register a kind of ambivalence towards Locke. The basic idea which Whitehead follows is that, although Locke’s clear articulation in explaining facts in the world does not satisfy an ontological commitment to work out a metaphysics, yet, if we look closely in the matter, we will find a niche from where we can, in fact, initiate a metaphysical train of thought. Whitehead’s keen sense of what is relevant and what is not, for constructing a coherent and systematic metaphysics, helped to find that niche -- namely the concept "power." Locke’s descriptive epistemology does not suffice in order to work out an ontological perspective of the world. But his efforts gave Whitehead hints and new ideas so as to make a reassessment in terms of an inventory into the ‘storehouse of knowledge’ surveying the claims of an apparently strict empiricism.

The following passage from the Essay gives us a clue to the nature of the hints and ideas which Whitehead found in order to set the stage for transformation:

I shall not at present meddle with the Physical Consideration of the Mind; or trouble myself to examine, wherein its Essence consists, or by what Motions of our spirits, or Alterations of our Bodies, we come to have any Sensation by our Organs, or any Ideas in our Understanding; and whether those Ideas do in their Formulation, any, or all of them, depend on Matter, or no. (Essay I, I, II, 43)

Whitehead felt that, in order to transform Locke’s descriptive epistomology into a full-fledged metaphysics, its shortcomings had to be turned onto a positive platform. Thus, a different method had to be devised and a new categoreal scheme constructed in order to come to terms with the negative issues of the Essay. Whitehead’s response to that challenge was clear cut: introduce the speculative method, as formulated in "The Speculative Scheme" (PR I, I, 1-VI, 3-17) and apply it to Locke’s concept of ‘power’. In short, it was the ‘method of imaginative rationalization’ and a formal analysis of the role and function of the concept of ‘power’, that gave Whitehead the leverage necessary to initiate his enterprise.13 Whitehead saw clearly that Locke came close to some aspects entertained by the philosophy of organism, but, the latter did not see the consequences of his own inquiry. The following passage in PR makes this clear again.

In the first place, he (Locke) distinctly holds that ideas of particular existents -- for example, the child’s idea of its mother -- constitute the fundamental data which the mental functioning welds into a unity by a determinate process of absorption, including comparison, emphasis, and abstraction. He (Locke) also holds the ‘powers’ are to be ascribed to particular existents whereby the constitutions of other particulars are conditioned. Correlatively, he (Locke) holds that the constitutions of particular existents must be described so as to exhibit their ‘capacities’ for being conditioned by such ‘powers’ in other particulars. He also holds that all qualities have in some sense a relational element in them. (PR II, VI, II, 146f.)

This is sufficient evidence that Whitehead worked at translating Locke’s conceptions into the language of the philosophy of organism. For instance, ‘the child’s idea of its mother’ 14 as ‘a unity by a determinate process of absorption’ is typical ‘Whiteheadian language’. Then, the possibility of ‘power’ is introduced: Whitehead correlates ‘power’, ‘particular existences’, ‘constitution’, and ‘condition’. The relations between ‘powers’, ‘the constitution of particular existents and the ‘conditions’ under which this constitution develops, while the various elements constitute the formal framework of the respective constitution, exhibit qualities which, in turn, demonstrate the makeup of their source -- actual entities.

Locke, writing about ‘powers’, seems quite modest and content with his undertaking; thus, we read in the introduction to the Essay:

If by this Enquiry into the Nature of Understanding, I can discover the Powers thereof; how far they reach; to what things they are in any Degree proportionate; and where they fail us, I suppose it may be of use, to prevail with the busy Mind of Man, to be more cautious in meddling with things exceeding its Comprehension; to stop, when it is at the utmost Extent of its Tether; and to sit down in a quiet Ignorance of those Things, which, upon Examination, are found to be beyond the reach of our Capacities. (Essay I, I, IV-V, 44f.)

Clearly, Whitehead is not that modest and develops the respective line of thought by transforming it into his own conceptual scheme. Being ignorant of things beyond sense-experience, as a fundamental ingredient of human limitation, was accepted by Locke and called common sense. The examination of our intellectual capacities turns out to be the analysis of "middle-range knowledge." Whitehead, however, examines our capacities and formulates the results in terms of "far-range knowledge," (as I termed it). "Far-range knowledge" can be defined as knowledge that yields results beyond sense-experience or immediate appearance, namely metaphysics. He aims at ‘the vast extent of things’, while Locke settles ‘for that Portion and Degree of Knowledge, he (the bountiful Author of our Being) has bestowed on us’ (Essay I, I, V, 45). Hence, we can say that "middle-range knowledge" is limited within a Lockean context, which reserves "far-range knowledge" for the domain of ‘the bountiful author’. This is the reason why Locke has to discriminate between different forms of revelation, e.g., divine, natural, and traditional.15 Whitehead, on the other hand, is forced into developing a theory of deity which includes Locke’s theological context.

At the very point where Locke turns theological, Whitehead starts to initiate a cosmological theory in which theological matters appear as derivative products having their source in nature. Locke remains within the traditional language of the Cambridge Platonists such as Cudworth or Culverwell,16 when he says, ‘The Candle, that is set up in us, shines bright enough for all our Purpose’ (Essay, Introduction, 46). Locke seems content with merely surveying ‘the Powers of our own Minds’ (Essay, Introduction, 47), while Whitehead’s interest lies in the very constitution of those powers and how they constitute mind. Power and Mind seem to be separate categories, but somehow connected in Locke’s understanding of matter -- in Whitehead’s metaphysics they correlate each other. Locke thinks in terms of the powers to ‘see to what Things they were adapted’ (Essay, Introduction, 47f.), i.e., power, minds, and events are for the author of the Essay separate items -- for Whitehead, again, the correlate -- each term connoting a phase of the process of concrescence. For to separate the items at hand means to separate them only for analytical purposes, but in reality they condition one another. Yet, in the last analysis, Locke’s intention is clearly put, and he does not promise anything he could not deliver – ‘Our Business here is not to know all things, but those which concern our Conduct’ (Essay, Introduction, 46f.).

So far we have seen the general shortcomings of Locke’s method, inquiry, and scope. On the epistemological level, Locke dealt with a "middle-range knowledge" platform encompassing the empirical basis of his theory of knowledge. However, his concept of ‘power’ reaches far beyond his point of reference.17 Locke did not have an adequate explanation for his original concept: Whitehead was quite aware of this fact. Thus, Whitehead was forced to integrate the concept of power into a "far-range level of knowledge," which includes his categoreal scheme of thoughts.

IV. The Real Internal Constitution of Things and their Real Essence

Whitehead’s initial approach, tackling the problem of how an actual entity is constituted and what its real essence could be, starts with a Lockean critique of ‘internal relations’.

The basic critique of Locke can be formulated thus: How is change possible? The suggestion that internal relations of parts make up a whole does not give us a satisfactory stepping stone in order to introduce the idea of change. Thus, Whitehead makes this explicit: ‘Every actual entity is what it is, and is with its definite status in the universe, determined by its internal objects in the evolving universe of actual things’ (PR II, I, VII, 59).

Two points are of importance in this statement: the philosophy of organism speaks in terms of ‘internal relations to other actual entities’and assigns ‘change’ to ‘the evolving universe of actual things’, which includes eternal objects. What is of interest in these aspects of Whitehead’s formulation is that where Whitehead speaks of ‘internal relations’ Locke usually describes ‘external relations’. Thus, the philosophy of organism consists of patterns of internal relations making-up varieties of constitutions forming a thing or entity. ‘Change’ turns out to be an ingredient element in actual entities: actual entities evolve while eternal objects participate in the universe of actualities, yet, they remain within the state of continuity. The internal relations within the world of actual entities are settled by eternal objects participating or ingressing into actual entities. This is the reason why the philosophy of organism does not need to make a distinction between internal and external relation. The world is not divided into two separate parts -- the world is viewed as a whole. Locke, accepting a twofold world of things and minds, needed the difference between ‘internal’ and ‘external’; Whitehead does not.

The real, actual, or relevant problem which evolves from this discussion on relations -- internal and external -- is the problem of ‘the real internal constitution of things’ and ‘real essence’. This is metaphysics in the making -- at this point Locke is transformed into a metaphysician by Whitehead. Descriptive epistemology turns into the philosophy of organism.18

The notion ‘real internal constitution’ Whitehead discovered in Locke’s Essay. The real importance of Locke’s inquiry, in so far as it deals with entities and substances, lies in Locke’s conviction that entities and substances in the world have a constitution. That is to say, in order to come to an adequate understanding of the world, we must study their constitution.19 Thus, Locke presents us with a constitutional theory of matter. However, how he presented his doctrine is exactly where Whitehead’s critique sets in; nevertheless, the Lockean emphasis upon the fact that we must take a close look at things at hand, i.e., their constitutional framework in terms of structure and function, was an achievement in itself. Locke always seems to stop short of going beyond his own masterful analysis in the descriptive sense. Locke remains stuck in the descriptive phase and is thus unable to handle the ontological stage in terms of such questions as, What is the real nature of the internal constitution of a substance or entity? This is the kind of question which interests Whitehead. Locke, on this point, either speaks of the ‘secret relation of the Parts’ (Essay II, XXI, III, 234f.), or of ‘particular internal Constitution, or unknown Essence of that Substance’ (Essay II, XXIII, III, 296f.). For, to find the constitution of a thing means to discover the essence of that thing. However, this intention goes beyond descriptive epistemology. This kind of program belongs to the realm of "far-range knowledge." Perception, on a sense-data platform, does not give us sufficient spectrum in order to handle the question at hand from an ontological position. Now we must think in terms of relations and their specific structures, functions, and patterns. We must now search for a pattern or matrix which provides for us a frame of reference within which the internal constitution originates and makes sense.

Locke tells us in direct language that essence is merely an abstract idea entertained in mind; moreover, abstract ideas are merely collections of simple ideas; therefore, essence, for which an abstract idea stands, is ‘the workmanship of Understanding’ (Essay III, III, XII, 414f., and Essay III, III, XIII-XIV, 415f). However, on the question as to the origin of ‘real essence’ of things Locke remains silent. Each distinct idea stands for a distinct essence; yet, what is the difference between the distinct essence and the real essence? This question shows clearly the limitation of Locke’s descriptive method -- the real essence cannot be discovered by mere description. This is the point of Whitehead’s critique and departure of entering the very question as to the real essence or constitution of an entity.20

We have to follow Locke a bit more in order to see how this apparent problem turns into a real problem for Locke, and before we merge into the essence of the philosophy of organism. We will focus our attention particularly on the paragraphs of "Real and Nominal Essence" (Essay III, III, XV, 417ff.), since these are quoted by Whitehead almost in their entirety in PR (see Note 18).

What does Locke exactly say on essence?21

. . . the real internal, but generally in Substances, unknown Constitution of Things, whereon their discoverable Qualities depend, may be called their Essence.

This true, there is ordinarily supposed a real Constitution of the sorts of Things; and ‘tis past doubt, there must be some real Constitution, on which any Collection of simple Ideas coexisting, must depend.

The classification of natural things, by the scholastics, in genus and species, Locke holds to be just ‘nominal’, i.e., an artificial, but not real constitution. It is a constitution assigned by words and language to natural things, i.e., a mere designation. Here we can also speak of a meta-constitution’, i.e., the linguistic construction of the grammar of a language designed to construct a nominal essence of natural things. Locke hints at the idea that there must be some ‘real constitution’; this speculation goes, of course, beyond sense-experience. However, Locke cannot be interpreted, on this point, as turning metaphysical. Quite on the contrary, he merely tells us that our means and ways of knowing the world as real are insufficient -- i.e., sense-experience is not enough. Thus, he cannot state anything that does not conform to the realm of "middle-range knowledge" spectrum.

Whitehead picks up Locke’s idea of the real internal constitution of natural things and turns this whole problem into an ontological question: How is this internal constitution really constructed? Whitehead seeks the essence making up the construction. Another hint for Whitehead is Locke’s statement as to the collection of simple ideas co-existing -- they must have a real constitution, or pattern, in order to exhibit themselves.22 The particular relevance to the philosophy of organism should be apparent.

Locke continues on the following line: ‘For it is the real Constitution of its insensible Parts, on which depend all those Properties of Color, Weight, Fusibility, Fixedness, etc., which are to be found in it. Which Constitution we know not; and so having no particular Idea of, have no Name that is the Sign of it’ (Essay III, III, XVIII, 419). Locke points out that what we call ‘essence’ is usually the attaching of names upon abstract ideas and

that they are all ingenerable, and incorruptible Which cannot be true of the real Constitution of Things, which begin and perish with them. All Things, that exist, besides their Author, are all liable to change; especially those Things we are acquainted with, and have ranked into Bands, under distinct Names or Ensigns. Thus that, which was Grass to Day, is to Morrow the Flesh of a Sheep; and within few day after, becomes part of a Man: In all which, and the like Changes, ‘tis evident, their real essence, i.e. that Constitution, whereon the Properties of these several things depended, is destroyed, and perishes with them. But Essences being taken for Ideas, established in the Mind, with Names annexed to them, they are supposed to remain steadily the same, whatever mutations the particular Substances are liable to. (Essay III, III, XIX, 419f.)23

Thus, abstract ideas as immutable essences entertain only relations with sounds of signs and remain true. They are ingenerable, incorruptible, and immutable. Not so the simple ideas or natural substances. In Locke’s own words, ‘The Names of simple Ideas and Substances, with the abstract Ideas in the Mind, which they immediately signify, intimate also some real Existence, from which was derived their original pattern’ (Essay III, IV, II, 421).

It should be quite clear now that it was the ‘original pattern’24 of ‘real existent things’, having ‘real internal constitution’, in terms of a ‘collection of co-existing simple ideas’, which was the original object of curiosity and interest for Whitehead to tackle. In this sense we can say, that Locke served as a blueprint for Whitehead, yet, once the house was built, the original blueprint was almost totally transformed in such a way, as to maintain that there remained only an historical connection between the original blueprint of Locke and the house that Whitehead constructed. And this is one of the basic reasons why we had to go into the detail of the present subject matter.

At this point the function of the status of ‘real essence’ of the real constitution has to be elaborated.25

Whitehead ‘translated’ Locke on essence as follows:

The ‘organic doctrine’ demands a ‘real essence’ in the sense of a complete analysis of the relations, and interrelations of the actual entities which are formative of the actual entity in question; furthermore, ‘Thus the real essence involves, real objectification of specified actual entities’; Contrary to that idea which continues in the same paragraph, ‘and an ‘abstract essence’ in which the specified actual entities are replaced by the notions of unspecified actual entity. Thus, the real essence involves real objectifications of specified actual entities; the abstract essence is a complex eternal object. There is nothing self-contradictory in the thought of many actual entities with the same abstract essence; but there can only be one actual entity with the same real essence. For the real essence indicates ‘where’ the entity is, that is to say, its status in the real world; the abstract essence omits the particularity of the status’. (PR II, I, VII, 60)

This is Whitehead’s solution to Locke’s distinction between ‘real’ and ‘nominal’ essence. If we say that nominal essence depends on real essence, we must also ask, but how? Locke tried to clear the matter in terms of the linguistic usage of simple and complex ideas; Whitehead, however, confronts the problem head on: ontologically. The phrase ‘in such combination’ seems somewhat loosely formulated, but means that there is room for the process of patterns of combination, i.e., the process from the ‘unspecified’ to the ‘specified’ entities.

Whitehead intends to solve the problem thereby, in transforming Locke’s ‘real essence’ into ‘real relations’, yielding an exhaustive analysis of actual entities or simple ideas (to use Locke’s language); on the other hand, Whitehead transforms ‘nominal essence’, or complex ideas into abstract essence or eternal objects; thus a transformation from a linguistic-epistemological level into an ontological level of analysis has been performed. Understood in this sense, the transformation enlightens the important passage from Locke’s Essay:

The measure and boundary of each sort, or species, whereby it is constituted that particular sort, and distinguished from others is that we call its Essence, which is nothing but that abstract Idea to which the Name is annexed: So that every thing contained in that Idea, is essential to that Sort. This, though it be all the Essence of natural Substances, that we know, or by which we distinguish them into Sorts; yet I call it by a peculiar name, the nominal Essence, to distinguish it from the real Constitution of Substances, upon which depends this nominal Essence, and all the Properties of the Sort; which therefore, as has been said, may be called the real Essence: e.g., the nominal Essence of Gold, is that complex Idea the word Gold stands for, let it be, for instance, a Body yellow, of a certain weight, malleable, fusible, and fixed. But the real Essence is the constitution of the insensible parts of that Body, on which those Qualities, and all the other Properties of Gold depend. How far these two are different, though they are both called Essence, is obvious, at first sight, to discover! (Essay III, VI, II, 439)

It need hardly to be said that this whole matter was not as ‘obvious to discover’ as Locke would have it. For Whitehead tried to solve this specific problem inherent in both ‘real’ and ‘nominal’ beings called ‘Essence’. Basically, Locke introduced the problem of the relationship between sensible-objects, i.e., the realm beyond immediate sense-experience, prehended by the intellect. How difficult the problem would turn out to be and what consequences ensued was demonstrated by Hume, and not the least, by Whitehead.

 

Notes

1The direct link between the early Whitehead and Berkeley was presented by this author at the Whitehead-Conference at Bad Homburg, October 3-5, 1983, entitled, "Whitehead und Berkeley -- Zur wahren Natur der Wahrnehmung," to be published in: Beitraege zum Symposion "Metaphysik der Natur" in Bezug auf Whitehead, (eds.) F. Rapp and R. Wiehl (Alber Verlag, forthcoming, 1986).

2 The present author dealt with this question at the Leibniz-Kongress in Hannover, Nov. 14-19, 1983, entitled, "The Concept of Power as a Guiding Principle -- On the Linkage Between Whitehead, Locke, and Leibniz," in: Beitraege des IV. Leibniz-Kongresses, (ed.) Leibniz-Gesellschaft, Hannover, 1983, pp. 842-48.

3A. C. Fraser makes an interesting comment: Why does Locke separate the treatment of ‘power’ and that of ‘cause and effect’? Locke may have considered the idea of cause to be a complex one in nature; thus, he entertains the idea of cause ‘as an idea of relation between substances, while power is conceived as a simple idea occasioned by change’ (see Fraser’s Essay Edition, Dover Publ., New York, 1959, p.309, Vol. I). This is exactly what Whitehead had in mind -- power is to be understood, or better, analyzed as a phenomenon of change, repetition, development, and process. As such, the Lockean simple ideas turn into prehensions and relations. (Cf. Essay II, VII, VIII, 131.) I have used the critical edition of P. Nidditch.

4Leibniz writes to Isaac Jaquelot (February 9, 1704) that he has carefully read Locke’s Essay. Here he refers to P. Caste’s French translation. Leibniz was able to read English on an adequate level. But apparently he had problems speaking it -- compared to French and Italian, which he spoke in a masterful way. His inadequacy in his active command of English is certainly the reason why Leibniz wrote his letters in French to Clarke instead of English. Nevertheless Leibniz read carefully the chapter on Power in the Essay, in the original as well as Coste’s French translation. See K. Müller/G. Krönert: Leben und Werk von C. W Leibniz, Frankfurt: Lostermann VIg., 1969, 46, 109, and 189. Particularly see Leibniz’s own copies of the Essay (English and French) in which he underlined explicitly the passages relating to the concept of ‘Power’ in: A. Robinet/H. Schepers: (ed.) Nouvaux Essais. Berlin: Akademie Vlg., 1962, 3-9; 12-13.

See R. I. Aaron: Locke, Oxford: Univ. Press, 1955, 9-12, on Locke’s relation to Descartes.

6 This is also true of Leibniz meditating on Locke’s concept of power.

7Vector characteristics’ of feelings, or prehension are emotions having a certain direction and energy in terms of purpose, valuation, or causation. (Cf. PR I, II, I, 19.)

8 Cf. Rainer Specht, in his excellent work, Innovation und Folgelast, Frommann-Holzboog, Stuttgart, 1972. He makes an interesting comment on Locke: ‘Deno die angeborenen faculties oder powers werden zwar von Locke ins Spiel gebracht, aber nicht charakterisiert, obgleich sie nach der Vermutung des heutigen Lesers das eigentliche Interessante sein müsste’, 190. This is exactly what Whitehead noticed in Locke’s concept of ‘power’, and he took advantage of this very useful notion. Specht points out, and rightly so, that Locke’s ‘experience’ turns out to be the new criteria for judging reality. Thus, contrasting Whitehead and Locke on the concept of ‘power’ should not only be of interest to the reader of Process and Reality, but also to the study of the Essay. Also see Specht’s article, Ùber empiristische Ansiitze bei Locke," in: Allgemeine Zeitschrift für Philosophie, Bd. 3, 1977, 1-35.

9The paragraphs 8-14, 23, and 26 of Book II, Chapter XXIII in the Essay should he particularly interesting to the student of the history of science in which Locke describes his understanding of the corpuscularian theory entertained in the latter part of the 17th century. In this connection see Maurice Mandelbaum, Philosophy, Science, and Sense Perception, Johns Hopkins U.P., 1964, 1-60, and M. R. Ayers, "The Ideas of Power and Substance in Locke’s Philosophy," in: Locke and Human Understanding, ed. I. C. Tipton, OUP., 1976, 77-104. Also see Rainer Specht, "Erfahrung nod Hypothesen -- Meinungen im Umkreis Lockes’," in: Phil.Jahrbuch, 88. Jhrg., 1981, 20-49: Specht speaks of the Essay ‘als eine an Gassendi; orientierte Natural History aus der Umgebung Sydenham und Boyles’, 43f.

10 I would suggest that Leibniz, upon reading what Locke had to say about ‘Power, felt that his emphasis upon ‘Force as the central concept in his Dynamics, was duly justified. We may even go so far as to say that, whereas Whitehead transforms Locke’s ‘Power’ on the basis of ‘Process’ and the philosophy of organism, Leibniz does likewise -- transforming ‘Power’ into ‘Force’ on the basis of Dynamics. See A. Robinet/H. Schepers: op. cit., 169f However, if power was to be the source of action, Leibniz appropriated the term ‘entelechy’ to stand for ‘power’. Cf. Robinet/Schepers, op. cit. 216f.

11Again, we must emphasize that the young Locke of the Essays on the Low of Nature (ed.) W. von Leyden, Oxf. Univ. Press, 1954, had a closer affinity to metaphysical speculation than in his later writings. The methods of Hooke and Boyle may have had a decisive influence on Locke’s turning away from metaphysical speculations. See the highly interesting entry in Locke’s Journal of 26 August 1676 on "Transubstantiation" (W. von Leyden edition, 278).

12 Cf. John Dewey, The Quest for Certainty (Gifford Lectures 1929) Putnam’s Sons, New York, 1960. Dewey’s comments on the matter seem instructive: ‘. . . the quest for certainty has always been an effort to transcend belief (p. 26), and ‘As far as empiricism is concerned the case of John Locke is instructive. His Essay on Human Understanding is one continued effort to test all reflective beliefs and ideas whatever by reduction to original "simple ideas" that are infallibly known in isolation from any inferential undertaking -- a point in which many of the new realisms are still Lockean’ (p. 184).

13 Aside from the ‘method of imaginative rationalization’ understood as the most general method of inquiry, Whitehead also developed the more technical method of ‘Extensive Abstraction’ which is based on mathematical logic and set theory. The latter method is employed, particularly, in order to work out the ‘structural’ basis of the philosophy of organism. The ‘method of imaginative rationalization’ is employed in order to ‘translate’ concepts and categories entertained by the 17th and 18th century, i.e., the scientific language at that time, into the modern language of quantum theory, relativity theory, and evolutionary theory.

14 Locke was one of the first philosophers to introduce the child-mother paradigm into epistemological theory. Whitehead’s translation reveals that he comes closer to contemporary developmental psychology as expressed in the works of Jean Piaget and John Bowlby. Cf. J. Piaget, Biologie et Connaissance, Gallimard, Paris, 1967; J. Bowlby ,Attachment and Loss, Vol. I, Attachment, The Hogarth Press, London, 1969; also relevant and highly readable: James K. Feibleman, The Stages of Human Life, Martinus Nijhoff, The Hague, 1975.

15 See the highly interesting treatment of ‘revelation’ in the Essay, Book IV, Chapter XVIII, "Of Faith and Reason" (688-96). The introduction of science in theological discussion made it difficult for Locke to account for miracles and revelation in a Biblical sense. Thus, he distinguishes, in good Deistic tradition, between revelation as understood in the traditional sense or Biblical sense, and the revelation of God’s divine nature in terms of ‘the Book of Nature’, also well-known through Galileo. Inquiry into the nature of things meant, henceforth, the uncovering or unraveling of God’s beautiful nature. This discovery of parts of God’s nature was a matter of grace bestowed by God upon mankind. Contrary to Hobbes, Locke was a believer. Whitehead tried to solve the deistic dilemma of working with the scientific method while trying to come to terms with the Christian doctrine of divine nature. Leibniz also was very much interested in Locke’s comments on revelation. He underlined passages in Bk. IV, Ch. VII, Sect. XI, of the Essay. See Robinet/Scheper, op. cit., 3-9.

16 Still worthwhile reading, Georg F. von Hertling, Locke und die Schule von Cambridge, Herder Verlag, Freiburg, i.Br. 1892, highly relevant 275-316. Also see Grenville Wall, "Locke’s Attack on Innate Knowledge," in: Tipton, op. cit., 19-24.

17 Leibniz grasped this point very well by suggesting that the concept of ‘power’ should be attributed to corporeal substance as a primary quality, among extension, solidity, figure, and number, instead, as Locke suggested, ‘power’ being part of the ‘secondary qualities’ producing sensations in us. Cf. Robinet/Schepers, op. cit., 130f.

18 Whitehead’s extensive discussion of the doctrine of ‘real internal constitution of things’ can be found in the following passages in PR: (a) PR 1,11,11, 25f.; (b) PR 11,1, VI, 53f.; (c) PR II, I, VII, 59f.; (d) PR II, X, I, 21f.; (e) PR 111,1,1,219; and particularly the paradigmatic foundation of the developmental stages of ‘the real internal constitution of things’ in (I) PR II, X, III, 212f. A comparison of Locke’s Essay III, IX, XII, 482, and Essay III, III, particularly sections XIII to XIX, 415-420, should make clear to every reader to what extent Whitehead leans on and transforms Locke’s notions and scheme. In passages (a), (b), and (c) of PR, Whitehead quotes explicitly section XV, Ch. III, Bk. III, 417.

19 The problem of the constitution of things actually belongs within the history of chemistry. Thus, it is no surprise that Robert Boyle, who influenced Locke on this point, was a chemist. See the version from the view of the history of science in Marie Boas: Robert Boyle and Seventeenth-Century Chemistry, Cambridge University Press, 1958; and Robert P. Multhauf, The Origins of Chemistry, Oldbourne Book Co., London, 1966.

20 For useful Locke scholarship on that point see the following: John W. Yolton, "The Nature of Things Themselves," in: Locke and the Compass of Human Understanding, 1643, Cambridge, 1970; J. L. Mackie, "Substance and Essence, in: Problems from Locke, 72-106, Oxford U.P., 1976; R. I. Aaron’s useful commentary on Chapters V and VI, pp. 155-219, in John Locke (1937), 2nd. Ed., Oxford UP., 1955, and M. R. Ayers, "The Ideas of Power and Substance in Locke’s Philosophy," in: Locke, ed. I. C. Tipton, 77-104, Oxford UP., 1977.

21 Cf. Essay III, III, XV, 417; another instance of how Locke’s language is incorporated into the style of Whitehead’s expression can be nicely seen in the following passages compared: Whitehead, ‘Every actual entity is what it is’ (PR II, I, VII, 59) -- Locke, ‘Essence maybe taken for the very being of anything, whereby it is, what it is (Essay III, III, XV, 417).

22Cf. Essay IV, VI, IV, 580: ‘But in Substances, wherein a real Essence, distinct from the nominal, is supposed to constitute, determine, and bound the Species, the extent of the general Word is very uncertain: because not knowing this real Essence, we cannot know what is, or is not of that Species’.

23 This section discusses the difficult relationship between language and reality and gives much support to J. W. Yolton’s thesis, which holds that Locke’s Essay is best understood from the vantage point of the final chapter, wherein Locke sketches a threefold division of the sciences: the science of nature, ethics, and logic as semiotics. See Yolton’s Introduction, 1-15, in Compass, op. cit. Also cf. Essay IV, XXI, 720f.

24 See Locke on ‘Pattern’; cf. M. Mandelbaum: Philosophy, Science, and Sense Perception, Johns Hopkins U.P., 17ff., 1964.

25 Cf. J. L. Mackie, Ch. 3, "Substance and Essence": Problems from Locke. op. cit., 1976; Mackie, 72-75 (op. cit.) and J. Bennett, 59-63 (op. cit.) agree in holding that Locke did not hold a theory of material substance, i.e., Berkeley’s critique of that supposed doctrine was unfounded. We should add that ‘ontologically’ that is true, but epistemologically Locke did hold an hypothesis as to the material nature of substance, yet, within the realm of "middle-range knowledge" and the method of descriptive epistemology. See Essay III, VI, II, 439. It should be noticed that Locke himself laid the fuse to blow up his own idea of substance by introducing the doctrine of the real internal constitution in terms of real essence. Historically this is of interest, as J. W. Yolton showed in his Locke and the Way of Ideas, O.U.P., 1956, 126ff, in that Bishop Stillingfleet criticized Locke that he wanted to do away with the idea of substance. The Bishop perhaps felt, intuitively, that Locke’s critique of the idea of substance would result, ultimately, in the dissolution of the substance doctrine. Note what Yolton says on the matter (p. 127) and to what extent it agrees with Whitehead’s ideas on that particular problem.

Alfred North Whitehead’s Basic Philosophical Problem: The Development of a Relativistic Cosmology

 Note: this essay was translated by Eric von der Luft and Frank Eberhardt

1. The Theoretical Program: an Essay in Cosmology

Without a doubt, Whitehead offers the best developed solution to his basic philosophical problem in his major work, Process and Reality. If we want to determine the direction and goal of Whitehead’s theoretical development as well as this development’s definitive contributions to systematic philosophy and to the history of philosophy, then we cannot avoid dealing with this text, in spite of its density and the difficulties connected with its reception. However, though it is beyond doubt that the "mature" solution to the problem can only be taken from Process and Reality, the persuasive power of this work’s introductory formulation of the program is questionable -- at least as concerns the present attitude toward what is expected of a cosmology.

Whitehead himself introduces his project as the third great cosmological conception in the history of philosophy:

The history of philosophy discloses two cosmologies which at different periods have dominated European thought, Plato’s Timaeus, and the cosmology of the seventeenth century, whose chief authors were Galileo, Descartes, Newton, Locke. In attempting an enterprise of the same kind, it is wise to follow the clue that perhaps the true solution consists in a fusion of the two previous schemes, with modifications demanded by self-consistency and the advance of knowledge. (PR xiv/ix)

It is difficult for this proclamation of the fusion of two theories of the world which are considered "out of date" to awaken the expectation of an important gain in knowledge, and it is difficult to read the indication of required "modifications" as the promise of an appropriate consideration of our century’s theoretical development in the natural sciences. The impression of being confronted with a stale program becomes so much the greater for the reader of the present day, who is otherwise open to intellectually demanding projects, when Whitehead designates Process and Reality as "an essay in Speculative Philosophy" (PR 3/4) and explains his cosmology as aiming at a "system of general ideas" (ibid.). His own advertisement of his project makes it easy for his critics to insinuate that it is a highfalutin, idle, and moreover, from the standpoint of history, even an avowedly obsolete undertaking.

In view of this reciprocal intensification, provoked by Whitehead himself, of significant negative prejudices which could very easily be further elaborated by means of more quotations, assertions to the contrary in the exposition of Process and Reality seem unintelligible. In the case of a "speculative system" which fuses historically obsolete cosmologies, Whitehead’s repeated and in fact passionate emphasis that the "elucidation of immediate experience is the sole justification for any thought" (PR 4/6) seems not at all able to be brought into some coherent association, Whitehead’s reflection that we could ask ourselves "whether the type of thought involved [in his cosmology] be not a transformation of some main doctrines of Absolute Idealism onto a realistic basis" (PR xiii/viii) may hit not only upon the widespread skepticism with regard to the "main doctrines of Absolute Idealism" in general, but also, in particular, upon doubts concerning their ability to be transformed "onto a realistic basis." Looking at such a beginning, one wonders how Whitehead can believe that he can consider anything like a "realistic basis" at all.

While an unprepared reading of Process and Reality can only with difficulty remove the prejudices which Whitehead himself conditioned with his unfortunate exposition, there is another way to demonstrate very well that Whitehead’s cosmology in fact proposes a new determination of the "realistic basis," and even that this new determination has already put behind it a fundamental discussion with culturally well-seasoned "realisms," in whose name the consistency of Whitehead’s relativistic cosmology has been called into doubt.

In the first instance, Whitehead himself had thoroughly considered other, more ad hoc plausible starting points for his program. Indeed, he had developed the program in a series of beginnings toward a conception of a theory of the world. Thereby evolved Whitehead’s basic philosophical problem -- at first as a dark motor of his intellectual development, then, increasingly and more clearly, as the discernible, formulated center of his theory. We can certainly apply to Whitehead Hegel’s ironic remark about Schelling, that he carried on his philosophical development in public. The following mediation of the knowledge of this philosophical development enables us to understand why Whitehead, in a series of theoretical starting points, their rejections, and theoretical improvements, reluctantly abandons both hitherto plausible starting points from commonsensical thought and the dominant conventional forms of thought in philosophy. A knowledge of the aporias in which Whitehead finds himself on the individual levels of the development of his cosmology allows us further to comprehend why many leading philosophers of his time stopped taking an interest in his theory and quit discussing his writings. Thus it can be seen how the respected coauthor of Principia Mathematica became until recently an erratic phenomenon in the philosophical community.

The reconstruction of the starting points for the essay in cosmology, which were tested and overhauled by Whitehead, allows its final form to be understood in what is, in the first instance, its alienating association of a speculative synthesis of cosmologies which have become historical with the claim to consistent relatedness to experience under the conditions of the twentieth century.

As Whitehead’s formulation of his program becomes plausible, his basic philosophical problem will become clear: Only a relativistic cosmology, in Whitehead’s view, "brings the aesthetic, moral, and religious interests into relation with those concepts of the world which have their origin in natural science" (PR xii/vi).

2. The Development of Whitehead’s Basic Philosophical Problem

2.1 Softening the Claims to Effectiveness of Cosmology

Based on Mathematically Formulated Natural Science

We may infer even from a work as early as "On Mathematical Concepts of the Material World" (written in 1905, published in 1906) that Whitehead’s intellectual development tends toward drafting a theory of the world. In this article, whose significance as regards Whitehead’s development can scarcely be overestimated (cf. DWP, WTA, PW WRML), he reaches a level in the formulation of the. problem which already pushes toward abolishing the unquestioned privilege of "concepts of the material world" formulated in mathematical language, in order to pave the way for a more adequate and at the same time more comprehensive conception of the world.

At first glance, the formulation of the problem from which Whitehead proceeds in MC -- he still clings to the presupposition of the cosmological adequacy and precision of the theoretical language of mathematics -- must seem to be itself an aporia: Whitehead wants to investigate various ways -- in the first instance internal to mathematics (but cf. MC 465, 524) -- of considering the "nature of the material world"; at the same time, however, he wants to understand this world as a unity which, even though conceived as in motion, consists of only one kind of entity (MC 468, 479, 482, 525).

But, given the presupposition of the unity and simple basic character of the world in general, how can the various mathematically formulated ways of considering the world occur and, beyond that, tolerate each other? Does not the association of this claimed adequacy and precision with the presupposition of the unity and simple basic character of the world demand that we consider the "nature of the material world" in just one way and reject the others as erroneous or force them to be assimilated through insight into their own incompleteness and thus to correct themselves?

But if we want to hold fast to a legitimate plurality of successful intellectual apprehensions of the world, then must not at least either the theory’s claims to adequacy, precision, and universality be varied or the presuppositions of the unity and simple basic character of the world be given up?

Whitehead’s writings after 1906 present a series of suggestions for resolving the formulated version of the problem. In spite of the acknowledged difficulties, he continues to try for a few years to preserve the claims to effectiveness and the privilege of the theory of the world formulated only in mathematical language. Until 1911 -- in An Introduction to Mathematics -- he defends his conviction that only mathematics provides a language which guarantees what may be called a highly exact and, in a strict sense, scientific description of the world (cf. IM 5, 17). Indeed, even as early as this writing, he acknowledges his uncertainty about the answer to the question of whether the events grasped by the theoretical language of mathematics can be sufficient "to ‘explain our sensations" (IM 33), or whether the mathematically formulated theory is even in a position to make an adequate reconstruction of other, unrelinquishable references to the world (such as sense perception).

Whitehead does not yet want to call into question the common sense assumption that the world is an actual unity: "we . . . endeavor to imagine the world as one connected set of things which underlies all the perceptions of other, unrelinquishable references to the world (such as sense perception").

Whitehead does not yet want to call into question the common sense assumption that the world is an actual unity: "we . . . endeavor to imagine the world as one connected set of things which underlies all the perceptions of all people. There is not one world of things for my sensations and another for yours, but one world in which we both exist" (IM 4). Yet, given this option, whether this abstract mathematical world -- which is supposed to explain our particular, individual, personal "feelings, thoughts and emotions," but which is not supposed to be dependent upon such feelings -- whether "such a world [is] merely but one huge fairy tale" (TM 33, cf. 32ff.).

Still without a discernible consciousness of the growing corollary problems, Whitehead now softens the claims to effectiveness of a theory based on mathematically formulated natural science: Such a theory is not capable of either sufficiently explaining or even replacing individual sense perceptions and their relation to the world. But it is quite capable of giving -- and here Whitehead falls back upon a skillfully chosen compromise formula -- a "hypothetical substructure of the universe" (ESP 285). This formula, whose instability is very quickly discernible, unites the claims to privilege -- nothing less than a substructure of the universe is offered -- with a relativization which permits concessions to other conceptions of the world: The substructure of the world is only "hypothetical." Yet, instead of now consolidating this solution adopted as a way out of the dilemma, instead of easing the position of the mathematically formulated theory of the world -- a position which has become precarious -- by introducing conventional conceptions of development and perfection (e.g.: the relation of a cosmology based on mathematics and natural science towards other theories of the world is one of learning, thereby perfecting its substructure of the universe and thus gradually making alternatives superfluous), Whitehead increases the pressure on the privileged position of a mathematically formulated cosmology.

The -- in the first instance meant somewhat disparagingly -- concession that every theory of the world also has to deal with the "imaginations" and conclusions" of the poets, philosophers, and theologians, gives way to a systematically consistent, matter-of-fact view. Whitehead discerns that any first or second order arrangement in the set of different theoretical grasps of the world needs to be justified -- as long as the adequacy and competence of a specific approach is not denied in principle. The self-privilege of mathematically formulated natural sciences is a vain and void enterprise as long as these sciences are unable to contribute to the solution of this problem. At the same time this problem becomes very difficult to survey, since even the object, the insinuated "world," changes with the relativization of the position of mathematics within cosmology. No longer can the world be regarded and defined only as the "material world" to be comprehended in "mathematical concepts," or even only as the totality of the "properties of the universe" or the "course of events" (cf. TM 5). But what is "the world" which mathematized theories and the imaginations of poets and theologians refer to with, in principle, equal right? The covariation of the theoretical beginning and the object makes more clearly discernible the blurredness of the object and the lack of determinacy, which retroactively make the theoretical beginning so difficult.

Of course, for so-called common sense, Whitehead now seems to have his eye on a highly plausible conception of the world, a conception capable of integration, when in 1912 he asserts that "the idea of the World now means to us the whole round world of human affairs" (ESP 176) and when he defines "world" as the "concrete universe" or as the "course of nature conceived in its widest sense as including human society" (ESP 180). Yet this impression of common sense, which by the way also leads the objections to Whitehead’s mature cosmology, is erroneous.

2.2 The Pluralism of Theories and the Fiction of the One Concrete World

Whitehead’s biographers, as a rule, have distinguished three phases in his intellectual development and, using as their criterion the professor’s change of location, have spoken of the mathematician at Cambridge (1884-1910), the philosopher of nature in London (1910-1924), and the metaphysician at Harvard (1924-1947) (cf. DWP). This rubrication is not false in its basic elements, but it diverts us from considering the continuity of Whitehead’s theoretical development. Moreover, within the framework of these rubrics, it does not really make sense why Whitehead from 1912 on wrote and published -- in addition to studies in natural philosophy and natural science -- a series of what may be called contributions to popular philosophy, a genre which the secondary literature usually passes by In our reconstruction of the development of Whitehead’s basic philosophical problem the significance of this phase of his activity becomes obvious.

Judging from the outside, we can assert that Whitehead’s general cosmological theory in this phase of its development, on the one hand, reaches its lowest qualitative level and exhibits its least degree of consistency, but, on the other hand, arrives at its closest point to common sense and to those correlation theories from the Continental philosophical tradition which center on the observer and consciousness.

In this phase Whitehead proceeds from the fact that, opposed to the "concrete universe," or to the world which embraces -- howsoever -- both nature and the "whole round world of human affairs," there stands a multiplicity of theories of the world, which reciprocally influence each other and the world or are coined in these relations. He now reclaims the privileged position of mathematics in this ensemble simply by appealing to the success of the modern development of technology and natural science. Nevertheless, it remains unclear to what extent mathematics is able to justify its assigned position by means of its ordering or even its orientation in the coordination of other references to the world. Whitehead experiments for a while with deliberations about the various theories of the world with regard to the degree to which they abstract from the world, and about adjusting a sequence of more or less abstract perspectives on the world, oriented at the level of abstraction attainable in the mathematized natural sciences. But he still does not have command of any intellectual means of clearly defining processes of abstraction and concretion. Since he is uncertain, he has to admit that, for example, even religious contemplation must be regarded as a type of abstract thought (OT 97f.), and that he does not have at his disposal any systematically cogent reasons why we should train children in the "abstract thought" of mathematics -- which he recommends -- rather than in the ability "to contemplate directly the beauty of abstract moral ideas, in the hope of making them religious mystics" (OT 98) -- which he obviously still dislikes.

Whitehead not only discerns that it is necessary to specify different types of abstraction over against one another, but also sees that the popular opposition of the "concrete world" and "abstract theory" is unfruitful and, in its forms up to that time, indefensible. He introduces a change of direction in his theoretical development, which distances him from the dualistic modes of thought of the Continental tradition and from the conventional common sense feeling of plausibility. This fundamental change in the basic structure of his theory occurs from 1914 to 1916 and is documented above all in the important essays "Space, Time, and Relativity" (OT 191-228) and "The Organization of Thought" (OT 105-33). Whitehead discerns the fictional character of the one (single) concrete world and the necessity to dissolve the conglomerate of the unity, experiencability, concreteness, and objectivity of the world, and to reexamine these specifications as well as their relationships.

The most important theses for the new beginning are as follows: We do not live in ‘‘ ‘an infinite given whole’, but in a set of fragmentary experiences." Living in this set of fragmentary experiences -- which alone deserve to be called "concrete" -- we form conceptions of unity, order, wholeness, etc. "It is not true that we are directly aware of a smooth running world." Only in our thoughts do we live in a "connected infinite world" (OT 214, 217, 218). This does not mean that the world is a "fairy tale" (OT 213). We are concerned with an intellectual achievement, a construct which integrates our experiences and allows them to be objectified and bindingly communicated.

2.3 The Symbolic World and the Fragmenticity of Real Experience

The regrettable standard manifestations of philosophical designs in the twentieth century are such that they optimize techniques for overcoming problems intellectually, problems which proceed on the basis of no longer convincing assumptions about reality. The generally declining trust in the effectiveness of philosophy is thus not to be traced back to deficient versatility in handling available elements of theory, but to the more or less dull consciousness that philosophy works with insinuations of "actuality," which -- although they are not confronted with a plainly superior, clear alternative -- are no longer able to be convincing.

The type of theory which Whitehead now begins to develop attempts to lead the way out of this situation of stagnation and illusory progress. This undertaking is risky in a twofold regard: It requires the development and introduction of new insinuations about reality, which have not yet to any extent been made plausible by the uneasiness about the obsolete symbolizations of actuality; and unfathomable problems in theoretical technique arise, so that, in addition to the impression that the "foundations" to be reintroduced and the new cognitions to be introduced are misleading, one becomes conscious of dilettantism in the intellectual treatment of such problems.

Whitehead risks this double crisis in scientific study by presuming from this point on that our experience of reality issues concretely in a flow of "perceptions, sensations, and emotions," and that we are induced only by the forms of order in our thought to fancy that we have an immediate experience of a "neat, trim, tidy, exact world" (OT 109, 110). Naturally, Whitehead does not straightforwardly denounce the conception of a "world of perfectly defined objects implicated in perfectly defined events which . . . happen at exact instants of time, in a space formed by exact points . . ." (OT 110). But this world, its texture, and the senses of unity which we ascribe to it, are surely intellectual achievements, and as such they are to be contemplated and examined. On the other hand, natural science -- and the recognition of this fundamental truth would be the first step toward wisdom in the philosophy of nature -- would have to proceed from a "radically untidy, ill-adjusted character of the fields of actual experience" (OT 110; cf. SMW, chapter 1). In this vague field, more precisely, in these fields of experience, a highly organized, but as such scarcely reflected, not to mention questioned, thought mediates for common sense the image of an "exact world" which is certainly a symbolic world. However, the decisive aspect of the field of actual experience is "its disorderly character. It is for each person a continuum, fragmentary, and with elements not clearly differentiated" (OT 110).

Whitehead’s goal is now to elucidate how the vague flow of the feeling of actual experience is connected with the symbolic, exact world. "How does exact thought apply to the fragmentary, vague continua of experience?" (OT 111) reads the question, which is flatly programmatic for this phase of Whitehead’s thought.

Nevertheless, we cannot say that Whitehead succeeded immediately in finding an answer to this question. He therefore sets up first of all two extreme positions: on the one hand the level of mathematical constructs which eliminate all intersubjective as well as innersubjective particular experiences which hinder understanding, on the other hand the limiting position of diffuse, radically individual -- not just anthropologically "subjective" -- feeling. Moving back and forth between these two extremes, our ways of making the world accessible would have to develop (cf. OT 213ff). Whitehead experiments further, mostly in vain, with the great conventional concepts of the arts and humanities, in order to characterize those kinds of transition between conceived and perceived reality (life, culture, and activity of the spirit, style; cf. OT 13, 17-24). But above all he seeks to develop a typology for forms of order, a typology which allows a hierarchy between the presumed extremes to be laid out and a differentiated comprehension and presentation of the spectrum of our experiences and presentations of reality to be given.

Even though these attempts at typification do not yet lead to consolidated results -- Whitehead tries above all to define common sense as a "middle" level between the mathematized natural scientific and the individual emotional grasps of reality -- he acquires in this phase several fruitful insights which will also leave their mark on his mature cosmology. He describes the elementary cognitive processes as "abstractive processes of simplification" which, according to the principle of "convergence to simplicity" (OT 146ff.), make the world approachable and communicable. This simplicity is to be thought neither through recourse to unmediated experiences which are as "original" as possible nor in an orientation toward the conventional image of a thing which lacks definition. For, "if science be right, nobody ever perceived a thing, but only an event" (OT 179). The objects of perception from which common sense "proceeds" and which conventional theories assume to be such that we come into contact with them in an utterly elementary way, are results of complicated operations or, in other words, the concretion of complicated constellations which are to be thoroughly studied and explained.

Since Whitehead abandons the artless presupposition of "unmediatedly and elementarily perceived simple things," the thought of simplicity and the conventional use of this thought again become problematic. Generalizing in a rather daring manner over the more recent tendencies in natural science, Whitehead declares: "In physics, as elsewhere, the hopeless endeavor to derive complexity from simplicity has been tacitly abandoned. What is aimed at is not simplicity, but persistence and regularity" (OT 183). If now "regularity" is defined in the sense of the "simplicity of stable mutual relations" (OT 183), then the concept of "simple thought-object of the sciences" can also be grasped more accurately.

We are dealing with an optimized persistence and regularity in the incalculably complex networks of relations in which an experience not behaving according to the principle of "convergence to simplicity" would be lost. This optimized persistence and regularity is not given through individual entities which are somehow fixed and at rest, as unaffected sense perception supposes. Certainly the traveler sits down on the stone, certainly the tip of the steeple "captivates" the eye. But it is precisely not "this stone" which, as a simple event" or a "simple object," makes possible this individual sense certainty and the communication of truth which is built upon this certainty; rather, it is the structure of the world "embodied" by the stone which performs this task. The impression that every human being, the "whole world," could sit on "this stone" and could use the stone to test and confirm the soundness and fundamental character of sense certainty, is therefore not an absolute illusion, because the sensuous contact between traveler and stone, or the traveler’s visual contact with the steeple, corresponds to a typical constellation of events which occur in a variety of ways. While common sense develops only a dull, vague, but solid feeling of the infinite reproducibility of this elementary experience, say, feeling the stone under the butt and the butt on the stone, natural science consciously aims at optimization and at an optimized grasp of the persistence and regularity of constellations of events, which satisfy the requirements for stability that things have. Thus we are not concerned with requirements which have arisen only from contemplation; hence we are not concerned only with "structures of the world" which occur in the experiential contact between consciousness and object. Rather, sense experience participates in the constitution of reality as such. This experience arrives at certainty and at the "perception of the thing" because there is present a typical constellation of the world which "is" the occurrence of things and sense perception. Only because this constellation is present can the stone behave like other stones, e.g., lie on the earth, and only on that account can the traveler judge that this experience of certainty could be reproduced at another time and that others could reproduce it at any convenient time.

But with these reflections Whitehead takes a stand against a great philosophical tradition. Formulated with regard to Hume, but directed against the main currents of modern philosophy, Whitehead criticizes the naive presupposition of a "simple occurrence" of mere data. "I have elsewhere called it the assumption of ‘simple location’, by way of applying it to space as well as to time. I directly deny this doctrine of ‘simple occurrence’. There is nothing which ‘simply happens’ " (S 38). Formulated positively, this means: "Universality of truth arises from the universality of relativity, whereby every particular actual thing lays upon the universe the obligation of conforming to it" (S 39). Or, as Whitehead will declare more precisely later, each determinate actual thing is this assimilation of the universe, without which it would not be. Therefore Whitehead can assert about the structures of the world, about the centralized networks of relations which maintain a stability sufficient for natural laws, about the "things" to which the rigorous natural sciences direct themselves: "The modern thought-object of science . . . has the complexity of the whole material universe" (OT 183; cf. 185ff.).

Thus the thesis from which we proceeded (cf. 2.1), that the world is to be thought as a unity and as being of a "simple" basic character, is reformulated in such a way that is has become compatible with experiences of complex associations of happenings: The world concretizes itself in events which for their own part are to be thought as a stabilization of a network of relations. At the same time we may not say that thus there is more under consideration than the task and the problems of a cosmology. It is still completely unclear how this world, as a world, is to be comprehended, not only in the event which concretizes it. On this new basis, how can we state anything more than a unity of the world relative to an event? How are a transindividual world and the establishing of a stable network of relations in the event to be comprehended so that the comparability and differentiation of the processes of concretion are possible?

2.4 The Concrete Unity and the Objective Unity of the World

From about 1920 on, Whitehead tries to distinguish, and to relate to each other, two processes which usually are confused by so-called common sense.

On the one hand, he wants to comprehend the concretion of the world in occasions which create their perspective on the world in a unique and transitory way and which -- indeed – "are" actually this world itself as an interpretable perspective or as a configuration of the world. With regard to such concreteness and individuality of "actual occasions or actual entities" (as Whitehead will call these "events" later on), it seems that no definite statements can be made about the transindividual world, its order, and its unity. A radical pluralism and an intellectually unobtainable concretion make the association of the worlds of actual occasions appear as chaos from the standpoint of external consideration. Whitehead’s thesis that the world is "a complex of passing events" in which every occasion is essentially unique and incomparable (cf. CN 166, 125) already appears, on this basis, to be intellectually unobtainable. For how can this external perspective on the world be acquired and defended?

Thus we require the knowledge of another process which makes possible for us comparison, recognition, and the cultivation of an orientation. Whitehead describes this procedure for disclosing the world as a process of objectification and abstraction. "The discrimination of nature is the recognition of objects amid passing events" (CN 144).

It is important for Whitehead in this connection not to undertake the discrimination between the concretized world and the objective world merely with a recourse to the duality of consciousness and object. In his opinion the concretized and the objective worlds are two ways of configuring reality, which cannot be referred to as two strictly separated realms. As early as 1919 he formulates this position of distance from conventional theories of correlation: ". . . none of our perplexities as to Nature will be solved by having recourse to the consideration that there is a mind knowing it [Nature]. Our theme is the coherence of the known. . ." (PNK vii).

This procedure has often been regarded as epistemologically unreflective, naive, and premodern. Yet, the fact is that Whitehead is concerned with the comprehension of the relatedness to reality and the particular concretizability of the objectification which is achieved in the reflective, abstracting external perspective on events. Therefore he wants to analyze the processes of objectification and concretion on one and the same level. The transindividual disclosability of the world is not an illusion. The objective unity of the world, even though the experience of it may be difficult to reconstruct, is not of a character more lacking in evidence than the concretion of the world in actual, perishing occasions. Whitehead’s definition of objectification as "abstraction" then seems to contradict this only if we apprehend abstraction merely as a mental activity, a distancing from the concrete which is simply identified with reality.

On the other hand, Whitehead is of the momentous conviction that thought, in the abstraction, directly adapts itself to nature: "Thus ‘objectification’ itself is abstraction; since no actual thing is ‘objectified’ in its ‘formal’ completeness. Abstraction expresses nature’s mode of interaction and is not merely mental. When it abstracts, thought is merely conforming to nature -- or rather, it is exhibiting itself as an element in nature" (S 25-26).

Whitehead concedes that this conception is difficult to reconcile with any conventional philosophical tendency of thought or with the usual conceptions of the world cultivated by common sense:

Such a conception is paradoxical if you will persist in thinking of the actual world as a collection of passive actual substances with their private characters or qualities. -.But the conception of the world here adopted is that of functional activity. By this I mean that every actual thing is something by reason of its activity; whereby its nature consists in its relevance to other things, and its individuality consists in its synthesis of other things so far as they are relevant to it. (S 26)

Before we rehearse the development of this beginning in Whitehead’s mature cosmology, we must consider a complication which he has worked out in a particularly clear way in connection with his theoretical reflections about religion. At the same time, plausibility can thus be provided for this cosmological theory on the explicitly anthropological level of experience.

2.5 The Individual World, the Problem of the Universal World, and the Function of Religion

If we consider the state of Whitehead’s theoretical development during the first half of the 1920s, the question arises of whether or not a cosmological perspective has slipped away from him, whether or not he uses the term ‘world’ in a way which no longer can be justified. To what extent is the individual, unique, vanishing actual occasion still to be understood as a concretion of an actual world, or to what extent is the multiplicity of other occasions, which are concretized in an actual occasion and which exhibit its environment, to be understood as a world? Even if it made sense to speak, as Whitehead does, of a "world" as the "relative actual world" of a unique event -- then how do such "worlds" stand in relation to that real level of abstraction (cf. 2.4) on which actual worlds and actual experiences interact and interpenetrate one another, the level which Whitehead sometimes defines as "nature"? Is it not exactly this abstract level which is sooner and more appropriately to be defined as the "world" -- as does even common sense thinking, which frequently confuses "nature" and "world" in a precarious way? Does not the conception of a relative actual world of actual occasions raise the question of whether or not a transindividual world is a fiction? Moreover, does not the assertion that the transindividual world is a fiction contradict -- in the name of the common "relating to the world" -- our accomplished, thoroughly successful, complex experiences of mutual communication and understanding? If, however, we accept Whitehead’s conception of the relative actual world -- then how can we explain even just the genesis of the symbolism of a universal, fully accessible world, and furthermore, how can we presuppose a nonsymbolic transindividual unity of the world?

Whitehead is convinced that it is precisely religion which works at the complex problems expressed in these questions.

Religion radicalizes the experience of the individuality of the world, of the incommunicability of the concrete experience of the world. "Religion is what the individual does with his own solitariness" (RM 16, 47, 58). At the same time, religious individuation aims at a more and more adequate, inclusive, and complex relation to the world, and at the formation of world-consciousness: "Religion is world-loyalty" (RM 59; cf. 38ff.). But how can these two features of religion be brought together? Are not these two key propositions of Whitehead’s theory of religion -- "Religion is what the individual does with his own solitariness" and "Religion is world-loyalty" -- rather irreconcilable?

Whitehead is indeed convinced that he is able to formulate and interpret, both cosmologically and in a way appropriate to the theory of religion, that which early wisdom has already expressed in paradoxes or in a way which is still intellectually opaque: The enhancement of self-experience and world-experience happens, in a strict sense, at the same time; the path to the self leads to the disclosure of the world; those who really comprehend the world find themselves . . .

According to Whitehead’s conviction, the function of religion is not comprehended if religion is defined in principle and primarily as a social fact. Only in its underdeveloped forms and its stages of decay is religion found to be essentially tied into social communication, i.e., as a "tribal religion" or as, in Whitehead’s formulation, a phenomenon of "sociability" (RM 20ff.). A careful observation of even the archaic forms of religion clearly discloses the function which Whitehead attributes to them. Even at the level of tribal religious rituals, which Whitehead compares with the co-actions in animal herd behavior, a process of abstraction can be discerned which augments solitariness and world-consciousness. In rituals, human beings abstract from the immediate physical needs of the body, and they detach themselves from their immediate physical environment. In the first instance such detachment may ensue for the sake of the social community, its real and symbolic presentation and perception: The ties to the individual body are loosened for the sake of participation in the "social body." Yet the development of higher religiosity discloses a systematics which reaches deeper by dissolving even one’s embeddedness in the "immediate social routine" (RM 38, cf. 38ff.). This dissolution issues for the sake of a more inclusive relation to the world; we are dealing with the formation of a world-consciousness which goes beyond the horizons of both the familiar and the more remote human social environment. A dogmatization and rationalization of faith, which in Whitehead’s view is essential to cultivated piety, makes possible this development, which increases the ability to connect faith with other experiences, thus protecting the consistency of faith and making it more independent of actual, real communication. This more complex and further disclosure of the world, however, would be lost in a potentially ever more abstract metaphysics if the actual individual had not at the same time brought itself to an ever more nearly complete expression within this disclosure. Precisely because the processes of abstraction and generalization remain at the same time processes of individuation, they do not cultivate a purely intellectual system of reference, but a world-consciousness. And precisely because the processes of individuation aim at an augmentation of the ability to integrate and at an extension of the horizons of experience, this process does not drive toward the "peculiar" or the "self-willed" in the sense of the whimsical, the bizarre, or the world-fleeing "noble soul."

This cointensification of world-consciousness and the experience of solitariness, which Whitehead identifies as religiosity and which he sees as consistently pursued by advanced religions, shows the way to the mediation of the individual world and the universal world. Since, prompted by the advanced religions, directed by their selected typical and principal basic experiences and by the metaphysics they nurture (cf. RM 31ff.), many human beings intensify world-consciousness and individuation, their shared possessions and freedoms grow at the same time. The augmentation of world-consciousness discloses more and more regions of what is held in common among more and more human beings, or, more generally, among other occasions and series of occasions. The fiction of the universal, fully accessible world, in this sense common and single, gains in reality and in realism. The prospect of finding individual experiences of the world which are highly similar in intensity and concreteness to one’s own disappears at the same time as the domain of world-consciousness increases. The solitariness of the individual, the limitation of the communicability of one’s own, full, concrete experience grows.

The knowledge of the improbability of the universal unity of the world and the knowledge of the relativity of the actual world of the individual or, understood more generally, of individual occasions, are the challenges which Whitehead’s mature cosmology addresses.

This relativistic cosmology has clarified the claims to effectiveness of cosmology based on mathematically formulated natural science and has allowed a pluralism of perspectives on and theories of the world (cf. 2.1). It is in the position to specify in which respect the single concrete world is a fiction and in which respect it is not fictitious (cf. 2.2). It can systematically reconstruct the process in which world-consciousness emerges but of our real, fragmentary experience, and can distinguish between the symbolic and nonsymbolic communications of the experience of the world, or between real and symbolic participation in the world (cf. 2.3). It can reflect the problems of the concretion and individuation of the world, i.e., the dangers of forming types of world unity, which only shatter understanding and the capacity for association, and the difficulties involved in objectifying world unity without just promoting the fictionalization of the world (cf. 2.4 and 2.5). It can make these partly difficult associations capable of standing against the philosophical tradition’s inconsistent suggestions for a solution and against the common sense of the present day (whereby it incidentally makes intelligible why philosophy has given up the effort to develop a cosmology). Whitehead’s relativistic cosmology is thus not only in the position to summarize the complex -- and in many respects apparently disparate -- demands made on a consistent cosmology: In the integration of limited, even restricted, beginning-points, which he himself tested (cf. 2.1-2.4); in the acceptance and intellectual penetration of religious disclosures of the world -- which unite solutions capable of being popularized and intensively concerned to be plausible with grand, although often opaque, conceptual effectiveness -- Whitehead not only expounds his basic problem, but he also offers a contribution to its solution.

3. Whitehead’s Contribution to the Solution of His Basic Philosophical Problem

3.1 Speculative Systematics and "Humility Before Fact"

The major objection to the speculative procedure of Whitehead’s cosmology is stated often and in many ways. He himself clearly anticipated and clearly formulated it: "The position taken by this objection is that we ought to describe detailed matter of fact, and elicit the laws with a generality strictly limited to the systematization of these described details" (PR 14/21). His laconic rejection of this objection is: "Unfortunately for this objection, there are no brute, self-contained matters of fact, capable of being understood apart from interpretation as an element in a system" (PR 14/21. italics added). Moreover, Whitehead substantiates this rejection as well as his option for a cosmology which works consciously with speculative systematization and metaphysical interpretation:

Whenever we attempt to express the matter of immediate experience, we find that its understanding leads us beyond itself, to its contemporaries, to its past, to its future, and to the universals in terms of which its definiteness is exhibited. But such universals, by their very character of universality, embody the potentiality of other facts with variant types of definiteness. Thus the understanding of the immediate brute fact requires its metaphysical interpretation as an item in a world with some systematic relation to it. (PR 14/21f, italics added)

The selection, the supposedly unmediated "discovery" of "pure" facts is already, in a scarcely obvious way, dependent upon context and determined by context. Cosmology wants to reconstruct this context in general. This, of course, occurs in the constructive scheme of a "speculative system" -- which, however, is subject to perpetual correction by immediate experience. "Speculative boldness must be balanced by complete humility before logic, and before fact" (PR 17/25). Since this "humility before fact" in the framework of a speculative system is distorted and endangered by the selectivity of the system, since that which is regarded as a fact varies with the systematic context, there is to add, in view of the correction of the speculative system: "The ultimate test is always widespread, recurrent experience; and the more general the rationalistic scheme [namely, and thus precisely, not only more effective, but also more forcefully endangered by ‘professional blindness’], the more important is this final appeal" (PR 17/25).

Only in humility before the facts as they present themselves in "widespread, recurrent experience" does cosmology control the inevitable risks involved in its systematization and abstraction. Yet, even such a "synoptic view" of facts in diverse associations of experience is inevitably directed by theory and endangered not only by the particular theorist’s requirements for concretion -- by that person’s perspective on the world -- but also by a lack of coherence within the systematics. With these dangers under consideration, Whitehead’s cosmology sees its goal in the elucidation of heterogeneous experiences and in the enabling of a general experience, in the elucidation and understanding in more complex associations of experience. "Our datum is the actual world, including ourselves; and this actual world spreads itself for observation in the guise of the topic of our immediate experience. The elucidation of immediate experience is the sole justification for any thought. . ."(PR 4/6).

The difficulty of the task of making the "actual world" a datum can be judged if we bear in mind that precisely the immediate and deeply reaching experiences are usually dull and nonspecific. Precisely the so-called basic and background experiences are, as a rule, either not grasped at all or only cryptically. The experiences which attain the level of consciousness are, on the other hand, already marked by a high degree of selectivity. Whitehead even considered consciousness as the "last and greatest" of the "elements by which the selective character of the individual obscures the external totality from which it originates and which it embodies" (PR 15/22). In the face of this obscuring activity of the actual consciousness -- with whose help the higher beings achieve "individual depth of being by a selective emphasis" -- in the face of this objectively distorted concreteness and realism Whitehead defines the task of philosophy: It must "recover the totality obscured by the selection" (PR 15/22).

The reconstruction of the context which is screened out in conscious experience, the interpretation of the world in terms of unity, the attention paid to the coherence and solidarity of the world (cf. PR 7/10, 11/17, 15f./22-24, etc.), which at the same time takes into account the infinite variety of concrete perceptions of the world and of facts, is only possible through a speculative systematization which at the same time is empirically controlled in a multiplicity of ways.

This systematization develops an association of "generic notions inevitably presupposed in our reflective experience -- presupposed, but rarely expressed in explicit distinction" (PR 18/27). In spite of this beginning, Whitehead’s cosmology is very difficult to approach because of the intellectually circumspect, multiple adjustment or readjustment of these notions, which ensues with reference to the concretion and the perspective in which occurs the experiential background grasped by these notions or in which the foundations of experience articulated by them are actualized. We will now present the main features of this systematization, which has been introduced both in an historical genetic way and in a methodical way, oriented toward systematic problems.

3.2 Actual Occasions in a Relative Actual World

Whitehead’s cosmology works with simple "ultimate" presuppositions and describes a simple set of changes -- even though from many perspectives and with many possibilities for application. As is well known, it presupposes that the background of experience, the fundamental reality, consists of "actual entities or "actual occasions" (the terms are used synonymously). They are "the final real things of which the world is made up. There is no going behind actual entities to find anything more real. . . . The final facts are, all alike, actual entities. . ." (PR 18/27f., cf. SMW 103: "We must start with the event as the ultimate unit of natural occurrence."). The "actual entities" or "actual occasions" are complexities which "have a grasp on each other," which objectify each other, and which partially integrate and interpenetrate each other. Their "communication" and "interaction," conventionally formulated, are at the center of the cosmology offered in Whitehead’s major work. More precisely, this cosmology describes the process of the emergence of new actual occasions through specific syntheses of many separate actual occasions. These separate actual occasions undergo a process in which they combine with each other, or, in other words, in which they are synthesized into a new actual occasion. "The many become one, and are increased by one" (PR 21/32).

This process of the synthesis of actual occasions -- Whitehead speaks more appropriately of the "concrescence" of many actual occasions into one new occasion -- is the central theme of Whitehead’s relativistic cosmology. He is concerned with what is, in principle, a simple set of changes:

The ultimate metaphysical principle is the advance from disjunction to conjunction, creating a novel entity other than the entities given in disjunction. The novel entity is at once the togetherness of the "many" which it finds, and also it is one among the disjunctive "many" which it leaves; it is a novel entity, disjunctively among the many entities which it synthesizes. (PR 21/32)

We understand this process of concrescence best when we start with a multiplicity of actual occasions which are just about to concretize into an actual occasion, or be concretized by it. Both of these perspectives are equally adequate. Actual occasions are to be determined as a product of their environment just as much as this environment is to be understood as constituted by the occasion. It is important to conceive and present this process not only as a one-on-one relationship in which one occasion objectifies another. Whitehead sometimes formulates it in this way in order to simplify the presentation. Moreover, the secondary literature has above all held fast to this simplifying presentation, which makes it possible both to bring the linearized "process" under intellectual control relatively easily and to make use of the ordinary model of subject-object correlation. Yet, with such simplification applied in an uncontrolled way, the basic structure of Whitehead’s theory is disguised so that nearly all important points of his cosmology are easily missed.

Rather, we must proceed from a process of concrescence in which many occasions become one or are objectified by one occasion and synthesized within it. This occasion, which is this synthesis, itself further enters into many processes of concrescence, processes of other occasions. It becomes objectified for its own part, but as their constituent, their "datum."

The various occasions constituting the environment of an occasion which finds itself in the process of concrescence form with regard to this occasion its relative actual world. Expressed in Whitehead’s theoretical language: A multiplicity of occasions forms a "nexus" with regard to a process in which this multiplicity is concretized into a new occasion which unifies it. The same state of affairs, formulated from the perspective of the occasion which is in this process of concrescence, is as follows: "Each actual occasion defines its own actual world from which it originates. No two occasions can have identical actual worlds" (PR 210/321).

Although the occasions in the environment of a self-concretizing occasion do not form exclusively its relative actual world and are not objectified only by this occasion -- although every occasion, standing in many different nexus with other occasions, enters as their datum into many processes of concrescence -- we must still adhere to this relativity of the actual world. Whitehead repeatedly emphasizes that "no two actual entities originate from an identical universe; though the difference between the two universes only consists in some actual entities, included in one and not in the other . . ." (PR 22f./33f.). The expression ‘actual world’ is therefore comparable to the expressions ‘here’, ‘yesterday’, or ‘tomorrow’; such an expression is defined relative to a location, and its meaning changes with the location determined by an actual occasion (cf. PR 65/101f.).

The relativity of the actual world is, however, not comprehended sufficiently with the knowledge of its concreteness and individuality. This knowledge considers a relative world only in regard to the occasion which comes to be in the process of concrescence and which thereby objectifies the other occasions which constitute its world, and comprehends them as the data of its own process of concrescence. This is the comparatively simpler of the two requisite elementary perspectives on an actual occasion and its actual world in the universal process. The other perspective, also required for a sufficient description of the occasion (cf. PR 23/34), comprehends the occasion as an element of other processes of concrescence, as a datum of other relative actual worlds, or as objectified by other actual occasions in their coming to be. In this perspective the actual occasion is analyzed in terms of "its potentiality for ‘objectification’ in the becoming of other actual entities [or actual occasions]" (PR 22/34; cf. PR 22/33).

The universal process is thus to be considered not only as the transformation of an actual occasion from a potential to a real unity, or as the concretion of a relative actual world within an occasion. The universal process is also to be regarded as a transformation from a potential transindividual unity of the world to a real objective unity of the world, which however is mediated only by the concretion of relative actual worlds in actual occasions. Actuality is, as Whitehead formulates it, incurably atomistic (cf. PR 235/359; also 35ff./52ff, 227ff./347ff.). Only through processes of concrescence are constellations of order maintained, reproduced, and communicated. The occasions which compose the relative actual world of an occasion are -- even though in more or less altered form -- certainly concretized not only in this occasion, but also in others. Thus they compose a great number of structurally similar nexus which indeed are actualized only in ever individual concretions but which at the same time are allied to a high degree through the measures in which these same occasions are objectified in them. Since in this way every occasion is a potential for every occasion which is in process, and since the mutual penetration of relative actual worlds can in principle assume any "density," neither the atomicity of the actual nor the relativity of the actual world preclude a "solidarity of the world" (cf. PR 7/10).

Both aspects of the process of concrescence (cf. PR 23/34) -- the particular becoming of actual occasions and their objectification in other occasions -- are further analyzable in fruitful ways: in a completely new theory of subjectivity and in a beginning, worthy of discussion, of the formation of a polycontextual and multiperspectival (consequently a so-called "post-modern") theory of the construction of a complex dynamic order.

3.3 The Transformation of Indeterminacy into Determinacy: The New Theory of Subjectivity

The analysis of the process of an actual occasion, which constitutes its own becoming, leads into a theory of subjectivity which is among the most important new achievements of Whitehead’s cosmology. But to be sure, the reception of Whitehead’s theory on the Continent has been particularly disturbed and intimidated by precisely this achievement.

In the first place, we must notice that Whitehead does not equate subjectivity with conscious individuality or even ascribe it only to "human beings." This does not mean that he has no interest in a level of theory which may in the wisest sense be called "anthropologically determined." On the contrary (cf. especially AI). He also does not want to deny that human beings cultivate a richer, more differentiated subjectivity than do other organisms or that -- although many other creatures in their experience cross the threshold into consciousness -- human consciousness is particularly elaborate and efficient. Nevertheless, he wants to cut off the unquestioned, thoughtless, and naively absolute privilege of the anthropological level in a general cosmology. This can also by all means be regarded as ensuing in the interest of a more inclusive analysis of the human being, as an opportunity for the theoretical comprehension of the so-called "primitive" experiences which even human beings have -- and indeed to a large extent in every case -- experiences which, as a rule, reach the level of consciousness only, for example, in a dull bodily sensation, in the feeling of various degrees of general psychophysical "presence," etc.

Still more incisive than either the abolition of individualistic anthropocentrism or the abolition of the fixation on consciousness-centered and observer-centered theoretical beginnings, and still more offensive to a style of thinking marked by Continental philosophical traditions, is the second alteration of the conception of subjectivity in Whitehead’s book.

All theories which place "a subject," as a fixed point of reference and a well determined entity, ahead of the process of experience have, in Whitehead’s view, not clearly understood subjectivity. They indulge in the opinion that they have comprehended individual privacy, but in fact presuppose an already "objectified individual" (cf. PR 151/229). On the other hand, in Whitehead’s cosmology we must discern the emergence of subjectivity in the first instance amid a multitude of occasions which aim at their synthesis and concretion. Not an entity which is somehow fundamental, but an entity which, rather, is absent from its determinacy and its achieved concretion, stands at the beginning in the center of a process which is analyzed with respect to its "subjective moment." The occasion is present just in the sense of an identified indeterminacy. It has not yet concretized itself, but, precisely through its absence, through its not-yet-being, it is active, it centralizes, it concretizes its relative actual world.

Although we can make this procedure plausible by using a familiar understanding of the future (the occasion is in the first instance only its future and it is present only in the sense of its absence, which is determinable in the mode of anticipation), this conception of subjectivity may seem to be plainly ghostlike for traditional habits of thought. Whitehead himself tried occasionally to take these difficulties of thought into account by designating subjectivity as both the "ground" and the "goal" of the process of concrescence. But wherever this auxiliary notion has been received in the sense of conventional theories of correlation. Whitehead’s decisive thesis -- that the actual occasion as subjectivity becomes what it is in the process of concrescence (cf. PR 40ff./64ff., 219/334f., 222/339, 226ff./345ff.) -- could no longer be clearly understood,

The impression of something odd in Whitehead’s conception of subjectivity disappears if we comprehend subjectivity in the first instance in view of its relative actual world, its environment. Subjectivity can thus be defined not only as the goal but also as the power behind the concrescence of a relative actual world which concretizes itself in an occasion or which is concretized by the occasion. Reiner Wiehl gives a helpful explanation:

Whitehead deliberately uses the expression ‘concrescence instead of the term ‘synthesis’. Thus he speaks of a growing together rather than a piecing together or a joining together. That which in general distinguishes a process of growing together from one of piecing together is above all the fact that all individual moments which may be differentiated within a process and which grow together into a unity come together out of themselves, through their own activity, into this unity. (E 27)

Of course, from this perspective, we do not yet clearly comprehend the power which induces the various occasions and the relative actual world formed by them to "grow together," concretize themselves, exactly in this determinate way. But this power is given with regard to the transition from a relatively indeterminate to a determinate unity of self-concretizing occasions or of the relative actual world. Precisely this transition from selected indeterminacy to determinacy is the subjectivity of the process of concrescence. If we have made this procedure clear to ourselves, then the most important fundamental theses of Whitehead’s major work -- that "the actual world is a process, and that the process is the becoming of actual entities" (PR 22/33), that in this process "the potential unity of many entities . . . acquires the real unity of the one actual entity" (PR 22/33) -- no longer create any great intellectual difficulties for us.

A reconstruction of the "internal" course of the process of concrescence, however, allows us to understand above all why Whitehead sees the achievement of the real unity of an actual entity (or of an actual occasion), the entity’s completed concrescence, and its acquired determinacy coinciding with the perishing of the entity. With the final completion of its transition from relative indeterminacy to determinacy, in which the actual occasion has achieved its "subjective aim," it perishes as subjectivity. The supreme concretion of the relative actual world or the consummated formation of an actual occasion signifies at the same time its perishing (cf. PR 25ff./37ff., 87ff./133ff., 244ff./ 373ff.). Also, however, with its achieved concretion, the relative actual world ceases to exist as only its relative world (cf. 3.4).

We can analyze this -- in the first instance with regard to subjectivity -- bearing in mind that the completed occasion has exhausted its room for development, its world; while it has transformed all potentiality and indeterminacy into actuality and determinacy, it has, however, at the same time spent its subjectivity or, as it were, consumed it. It has become that which conventional theories of subjectivity usually put at the beginning of their thought, namely, a determinate entity which, according to Whitehead’s theory, now functions as a datum for other processes of concrescence.

The "perishing" of the completed actual occasion does not therefore mean that it has vanished without a trace. It perishes -- in other occasions, into whose relative worlds it now enters as an element. To understand this phase of the process requires that we change our perspective on the occasion. In the first instance it was to be apprehended as an increasingly determinate unity of a multiplicity of occasions which were objectified through it and which formed its relative actual world. After its world, its subjectivity, this room for development, has been exhausted, after the achievement of its subjective aim, which is its supreme concretion and unity, it is now to be regarded as occurring in various other processes of concrescence as objectified, as a datum. In this -- plural -- occurrence, in other relative actual worlds it contributes not only its individuality, the concretion of the world achieved within it, but it also contributes, by means of its multiple occurrence, to the transindividual unity of the world, without the comprehension of which Whitehead’s basic philosophical problem would not be solved.

But to elucidate this "contribution" of actual occasions to the construction of more complex states of order in the world, we need an even more profound presentation of the way in which actual occasions relate to each other.

3.4 The Theory of Feeling and the Polytextual, Multiperspectivally Adjusted Theory of the World

"Process," the centerpiece of Whitehead’s theory, is described in summary passages (e.g., PR 149ff./227ff.; cf. 40ff/64ff., 83ff./127ff, etc), as well as in the secondary literature, in a straightforward, simplifying presentation, as a succession of four phases or stages. (In the following summary emphasis is laid on the fact that the "process" focuses on one-to-many and many-to-many relations.)

In the first phase issues the constitution of the relative actual world of an occasion in the act of becoming. Such an occasion finds an association of objective, past occasions, the data which constitute the initial conditions of its process of concrescence. We can also say that with these initial conditions the subject of the process comes forth as a potential subject, insofar as its complete actualization has not yet occurred.

The second phase, which in a narrower sense can be defined as "process," is the phase of the transformation of data by the subject which is in the act of becoming. Again, there are several possible perspectives on this phase of the process "in which the many become one" (cf. 3.2). We can analyze this phase as the subject’s becoming what it "is" in its completed concretion, but also as the subject’s activity in appropriating -- or "prehending" and "feeling," in Whitehead’s terminology -- and combining data into a new unity.

By "prehension" and "feeling" Whitehead wants to characterize all instances of contact between actual occasions, and by no means only forms of communication used by living beings or even beings with consciousness. "Actual entities involve each other by reason of their prehensions of each other" (PR 20/29). Whitehead calls the positive prehension "feeling" (PR 23/35, 220ff./337ff.). "With the purpose of obtaining a one-substance cosmology, ‘prehensions’ are a generalization from Descartes’ mental ‘cogitations’, and from Locke’s ‘ideas’, to express the most concrete mode of analysis applicable to every grade of individual actuality" (PR 19/29). Superficial consideration has taken this terminological decision as the opportunity to accuse Whitehead of "panpsychism." But the fact is that Whitehead wants with this starting point to comprehend the common elements of, for example, the most elementary physical events and instances of contact whose investigation is otherwise reserved for physics alone (cf. PR 238/364f.), simple processes of interchange among living organisms, and operations of human and nonhuman consciousness. With regard to his theory of feeling he has compared his philosophy -- which he also calls "organistic" -- with those of Kant and Hegel. "The philosophy of organism aspires to construct a critique of pure feeling, in the philosophical position in which Kant put his Critique of Pure Reason" (PR 113/172f.). "In the place of the Hegelian hierarchy of categories of thought, the philosophy of organism finds a hierarchy of categories of feeling" (PR 166/252).

In feeling, in positive prehension, an actual occasion reproduces its characteristics; it produces itself by its act of feeling -- as a determinate aspect of what it has felt. In negative prehension it prevents data from having an influence on the process of concrescence from which the unity of subjectivity emerges (cf. PR 19/28f., 23ff./35ff., 219ff./334ff., 231ff./353ff.). The basic ideas of this theory may best be explained with regard to the objectified occasions which constitute the data of the feeling occasion in the process of concrescence. Objectified occasions, before they become data in the process of concrescence under consideration, are themselves always functioning as subjectivity in their own process. They bring what is always their own openness and abundance of possibility with them into the process of concretion which makes them data. They bring this abundance of their own actually possible complexity of subjectivity in with them as -- in Whitehead’s formulation -- "perspective." Stated more vividly, they invite the occasion in whose process of concrescence they function as data to exhaust their perspectives in feeling and to prehend their subjectivity as adequately as possible. Because of the singularity of actual occasions in the process of concretion, this exhausting of the perspectives of the preceding occasions never becomes a complete reproduction in the sense of a renewed occurrence of the subjectivity of these objectified occasions.

Rather, the new subject brings itself in by not exhausting the perspectives of the preceding occasions, by bringing the concretion of these preceding occasions to a relative conclusion, i.e., by "negatively prehending." It dismisses possibilities and -- insofar as processes of decay are not involved, as they are with "simple physical feelings" -- compensates this reduction by the integration of this reductive feeling with other feelings. This synthesis of feelings, the synthesis which augments its complexity, issues when the occasion feels and objectifies its own reaction to the preceding occasions, to its relative actual world. Thus it is in the process of concrescence that, strictly speaking, the manifestation of subjectivity occurs -- a reaction, in a still unintegrated sense, to its own reacting. The subject comes to be with this identification of this reacting as "its" reaction. It now makes sense to say that the subject produces a self-referential relation, produces itself, its continuity. Thus at the same time it introduces novelty into the world, the condition for its creative coconfiguration of the world.

Whitehead considers this single procedure from different perspectives and in different types of relations, and the difficulty which the reading of his major work entails is -- as already emphasized -- to be traced back to the problems of gaining intellectual control over this shift of perspectives. If we consider the self-referential character of the actual occasion and the fact that it realizes its own abundance of possibility in the feeling integration of other objectified occasions, then we can say that its feeling relates to the "subjective form" which directs the process of feeling. On the other hand, if we abstract from that which feels, if we consider this process in view of the unification of objectified occasions, then we can confirm that feeling relates to the "concept of the actual world," that is to that nexus which achieves concrete unity in the feeling occasion, etc.

However, according to one of Whitehead’s opinions which, to be sure. has aroused quite the greatest commotion in the reception of his work, we can also concentrate on the determination which sustains itself in the feelings of diverse objectified occasions or on the common element which sustains itself in these objectified occasions, and we speak about the act of feeling a more or less complex "eternal object" (cf. PR 233/356 with regard to the shift of perspectives presented here). But precisely, with this talk of "eternal objects," as Whitehead clearly sees, we abstract completely from the process, from the unalterable uniqueness of felt occasions, and from the singularity of the occasion in the act of feeling. We will not here discuss whether or not Whitehead, by introducing "eternal objects" (revised, but not given up, in the wake of SMW), these "pure potentials" (PR 23/34), has unnecessarily burdened his cosmology with a problematic two-worlds theory. Let it suffice to say that the same state of affairs in the case of self-referential feeling can also be analyzed without recourse to eternal objects, namely, in view of the "subjective form" and the "concept of the actual world."

The third phase of the process is described, in the simple consideration which pursues only the concretion of a single actual occasion, as the phase of "satisfaction," with which the process attains its "subjective aim." If we abstract from the course of the process and ask only after the determinacy of the actual occasion, then we can assert that now the actual occasion has become "what it is." As Whitehead formulates it in his theory of feeling, that is:

Each actual entity is conceived as an act of experience arising out of data. It is a process of "feeling" the many data, so as to absorb them into the unity of one individual "satisfaction." Here "feeling" is the term used for the basic generic operation of passing from the objectivity of the data to the subjectivity of the actual entity in question. Feelings are variously specialized operations, effecting a transition into subjectivity. (PR 40f./65)

In the phase of satisfaction occasions perish subjectively, but enter objectively into other processes of concrescence. Subjectively, these occasions have exhausted their relative actual world, their room for development, and thus have attained their subjective aim. This subjective end, or this termination of their subjectivity, however, is neither their final disappearance nor their utter annihilation.

In a fourth phase, the phase of "transition," the completed occasion, which has subjectively perished, enters as a datum into many other processes of concrescence. Whitehead has summarized the rhythm of the "creative process" as follows: ". . . it swings from the publicity of many things to the individual privacy; and it swings back from the private individual to the publicity of the objectified individual" (PR 151/229).

The conception of the "perishing" of the objectified occasion in other processes of concretion has been so important for Whitehead that he declared it to be the key to Process and Reality (cf. ESP 117). Without such a key idea the mediation of the relative actual world concretized in actual occasions would be inconceivable. The cosmology would have to seek its imagined aim in an optimized dissociation.

Whitehead is aware of the fact that a cosmology which neglects the subjectivity which is effective precisely in its subjective perishing would not think beyond the real decay of the universe and would be in principle cheerless. On the other hand, he does not want to cultivate any illusions. "What looks like stability is a relatively slow process of atrophied decay. The stable universe is slipping away from under us." But to that he adds: "Our aim is upwards" (FR 82. Cf. RM 153: "The universe shows us two aspects: on one side it is physically wasting, on the other side it is spiritually ascending.").

As opposed to all theories which are not able to overcome conceptually the egoism of finitude, Whitehead’s cosmology -- without calling the concreteness, perspectivity, and transitory character of actual occasions into question -- can disclose a broader horizon. Occasions which have perished subjectively become public, i.e., they acquire a multiple presence in the relative actual worlds of other occasions. With their situations varying in every case, objectified in differing ways by other occasions, they enter into a multitude of contexts, and in so doing they pass along to other processes the complexity which they have achieved and formed in their subjectivity as a "lure for feeling."

This ongoing activity of occasions -- which have subjectively perished -- in other occasions is designated by Whitehead as the actual occasions’ acquisition of "objective immortality" (PR xiii/ix, 32/47, 347ff./527ff., etc). This expression, which Whitehead uses also as a connecting thought toward integrating religious conceptions into his cosmology (cf. esp. PR, last chapter, 342-51/519-33), may in the first instance seem overdrawn. Focusing on the anthropology of the individual, we might perhaps concede that something like "objective immortality" may possibly be granted to Plato, Caesar, and Shakespeare, but that this is scarcely valid for every human being and even less valid for lower forms of life.

Yet this objection overlooks the significance of the objective integration of the transindividual world, to which every occasion contributes. That is to say, each occasion not only concretizes its relative actual world, but also passes the structure of order achieved within it along to the worlds of other occasions which are polycontextually concretizing themselves. In this way the structure of the world concretized by this occasion may be of such a high level that the occasion is felt as a lure for enhanced, more nearly perfect development. Other occasions, in their attempt to exhaust the highly developed subjectivity of this occasion, may, for their part, push forward toward higher development. Whitehead, quite oriented toward development and progress, pays particular attention to these lures for the development of more nearly perfect states of order. Yet, no less important is this essentially plainer but more difficult to understand aspect: Even the occasion which most lacks complexity contributes to the unity and "solidarity" of the world through its polycontextually transmitted presence.

Only when we consider this aspect does the cosmological conception of an "upward development" in the process of the world even become plausible. Because of their higher integration of a more complex world, the more highly developed occasions intensify the lure for feeling them. In other words -- considered from the perspective of the feeling occasion -- in the interest of expanding its own room for development, its relative actual world, and its capacity for feeling, the occasion which is in the process of concretion will give privilege to those occasions in its environment which embody a high integration of the world and thus an order as complex as possible.

The objective unity of the world is mediated by nothing except concrete individual occasions. But these mediate the unity only since, in their perishing as a datum, they pass along to other occasions, as a lure for the development of the latter, the complexity achieved with them (i.e., within the concrete individual occasions) and the integration of their relative actual world. Since they carry the individually achieved concrete unity of the world into many contexts of new concretion, the world "comes to itself" in a variety of ways, even though it does not obtain objectively the concreteness of an actual occasion. Apart from its concretion in individual actual occasions, the world remains polycontextual and thinkable only in this "network" which is to be multiperspectivally adjusted. Yet Whitehead’s cosmology lets us comprehend the "dynamic effort of the World passing into everlasting unity" (PR 349/530).

We can dispute whether we should follow Whitehead in calling this procedure an aiming at the "apotheosis of the world" and whether we should work at all in cosmology with religious ciphers (cf. WP 249ff.). We can ask why Whitehead did not reformulate his basic philosophical problem in the context of an anthropology which takes into account the processes balancing the concrete individual with its own publicity, which it can only simulate -- (in connection with which Whitehead’s theory of propositions would offer a still completely unexhausted source for such a development).

The main points in the reception of Whitehead hitherto have been determined by such inquiries, interests, doubts, and the attempts to dissipate them. On the other hand, it is important to notice that Whitehead’s theory, consciously developed as a cosmology, is helpful precisely toward establishing perspectives which until now have been strange -- as well as perspectives on supposedly familiar states of affairs which, however, are now to be made newly "visible." Meanwhile, the style of thought which Whitehead’s relativistic cosmology has developed and which "Whiteheadians" call post-modem encounters us, more or less well-formed, even in the works of other renowned thinkers in the arts and humanities (e.g., Talcott Parsons, Niklas Luhmann, Nelson Goodman, Hans Blumenberg, Reinhart Koselleck). Today we can surely say that it proves itself particularly in situations involving transition between anthropology and cosmology. Precisely with regard to these transitional situations which, in view of the present deficits in ecological and social-technological theory, particularly become the center of cultural attention, Whitehead has set new tasks.

The problems of how the public, plural form of objectified subjectivity is to be thought, of how reconciliation occurs between the uniform inner perspective and the outer perspective which is only intelligible in relativistic terms, and of how the connection between the privateness and publicness of the world is to be comprehended, are all to be regarded as such tasks. Yet not only in its setting of tasks, but also in the solutions it suggests to these problems, Whitehead’s relativistic cosmology establishes new standards.

 

References

DWP -- Victor Lowe. "The Development of Whitehead’s Philosophy," in PANW 15-124.

E -- Reiner Wiehl. "Einleitung in die Philosophie A. N. Whiteheads," in Alfred North Whitehead, Abenteuer der Ideen, translated by E. Bubser. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp, 1971. pp. 7-71.

IM -- Alfred North Whitehead. An Introduction to Mathematics. London and New York: Oxford, 1969.

MC -- Alfred North Whitehead. "On Mathematical Concepts of the Material World." Philosophical Transactions, Royal Society of London, A, 205 (1906), 465-525.

PANW -- Paul Arthur Schilpp, editor. The Philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead. (The Library of Living Philosophers; 3). 2nd edition. LaSalle, Illinois: Open Court, 1971.

PW -- Wolfe Mays. The Philosophy of Whitehead. London: George Allen & Unwin, 1959.

UGRW -- Michael Welker. Universalität Gottes und Relativität der Welt: Theologische Kosmologie im Dialog mit dem amerikanischen Prozessdenkeu nach Whitehead. 2nd edition. Neukirchen-Vluyn: Neukirchen Verlag, 1986.

WP -- Harald Holz and Ernest Wolf-Gazo, editors. Whitehead und der Prozessbegriff Beiträge zur Philosophie Alfred North Whiteheads auf dem Ersten Internationalen Whitehead Symposion, 1981. Freiburg: Alber, 1984.

WRML -- Willard Van Orman Quine. "Whitehead and the Rise of Modern Logic," in PANW 125-63.

WTA -- Wolfe Mays. "Whitehead’s Theory of Abstraction." Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 52 (1951), 95-118.

 

Note:

* This contribution is identical for the most part with a German version that was published in Josef Speck (ed.), Grundprobleme der grosses Philosophes (Philosophie der Gegenwart: I), 3rd ed., (Göttinger: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1985), pp. 269-312. The expositions in section 2.1 follow in part the presentation given in UGRW 35-71.

Mystical Consciousness in a Process Perspective

If you like to phrase it so, philosophy is mystical. For mysticism is direct insight into depths as yet unspoken. (MT 174)

The words "mystical," "mystic," and "mysticism" have had such a very colorful and diverse history of usage in both the East and the West that it is not an easy matter to determine precisely what their experiential referents are intended to be. "Mystic" is derived from the Greek mysterion, which was, of course, associated with the secret cults of Greek religion and thus entailed a sense of mystery. Mystery is derived from an associated Creek word mysterion, which is akin to mystos, meaning one who was initiated into mysteries, ultimately being derived from mycin, meaning to close, be shut (WNCD 761f.). While there have been many different usages, there has been a growing consensus in recent years among scholars as to what mystical experience is and its varieties. In the classic work Mysticism, Evelyn Underhill says that "mysticism in its pure form, is the science of ultimates, the science of union with the Absolute, and nothing else, and the mystic is the person who attains to this union, not the person who talks about it. Not to know about but to Be is the mark of the real initiate" (M 72).

W. T. Stace offers a definition of mysicism which more precisely focuses it. He indicates, following William James’s observation of the possibility of other forms of consciousness, that the most important characteristic of mystical experience is "the apprehension of an ultimate nonsensuous unity in all things, a oneness or a One to which neither the sense nor the reason can penetrate. In other words, it entirely transcends our sensory-intellectual consciousness" (TM 14f.; italics not mine). Stace makes the point that most of our intellectual processes are tied to sensations and images but that in mystical consciousness there are no external sensations at all, for one has gone beyond the level of the consciousness which relies upon such sensory input and of the intellectual processes which demarcate and integrate this sensory input. Thus one cannot communicate the experience in such a consciousness. It is "ineffable" because all our language is tied to sensory intellectual consciousness.

One distinction which Stace makes will be crucially important for our task in this essay. He distinguishes between what he calls a "mystical idea" and "mystical experience." He concludes: "The point is that a mystical idea is a product of the conceptual intellect, whereas a mystical experience is a nonintellectual mode of consciousness" (TM 5). This distinction is an advance upon Underhill’s understanding, for it clarifies what is said about mystical experience from the experience itself. All too often mystical ideas have been confused with the experiences and then integrated into philosophical systems as if they were the product of reasoning. What can be communicated are mystical ideas, that is, intellectual formulations which mystics take to be appropriate to their experience and as accurate as it is possible to be within the limits of the sensory-intellectual consciousness. The writings of the Vedantic mystic Sri Aurobindo form such a system of mystical ideas.

For the purposes of this essay, we shall focus briefly on the mystical experience of Sri Aurobindo as a test example of mysticism itself. After summarizing several of the main mystical insights of Aurobindo we shall focus primarily on the "Nirvana Experience" and then address what would be necessary from a Whiteheadian perspective to affirm this experience as possible and real. We shall propose that from a Whiteheadian perspective yogic meditation involves the silencing of symbolic reference, so that the two pure modes of perception are experienced directly. In the perceptual mode of presentational immediacy this process leads to the experience of the objective world as illusory. In the mode of causal efficacy it results in the unified but indistinct experience of the unqualified "That." In Whiteheadian terms this "That" is understood to be the nonspecific experience of the ultimate process of reality, creativity understood as universal subjectivity. It is the experience of creativity that will then be found to parallel Aurobindo’s understanding of transcendental consciousness. It is not contended that this analysis would fit all mystical experience but rather that this particular type of experience can be affirmed within a Whiteheadian framework. As to its general application, that must wait for further tests with other mystical articulations.

I

By his own evaluation Aurobindo considered himself to have had four major realizations during his lengthy sadhana (spiritual discipline leading to self-realization), and these experiences not only become informative of his yoga but also provide the experiential undergirding for his philosophy as well. In response to the comments of one of his biographers, Aurobindo concisely summarizes these realizations. Writing of himself in the third person he remarks:

Sri Aurobindo had already realized in full two of the four great realizations on which his Yoga and his spiritual philosophy are founded. The first he had gained while meditating with the Maharashtrian Yogi Vishnu Bhaskar Lele at Baroda in January 1908; it was the realization of the silent, spaceless and timeless Brahman gained after a complete and abiding stillness of the whole consciousness and attended at first by an overwhelming feeling and perception of the total unreality of the world, though this feeling disappeared after his second realization which was that of the cosmic consciousness and of the Divine as all beings and all that is, which happened in the Alipore jail and of which he has spoken in his speech at Uttarpara. To the other two realizations, that of the supreme Reality with the static and dynamic Brahman as its two aspects and that of the higher planes of consciousness leading to the Supermind, he was already on his way in his meditations at the Alipore jail. Moreover, he had accepted from Lele as the principle of his Sadhana to rely wholly on the divine and his guidance alone both for his Sadhana and for his outward actions. (OH 64)

For purposes of time, we shall center our summary of Aurobindo’s mystical experience only on the first of these realizations.

As Aurobindo became more active in the Indian independence movement, he also had been practicing pranayama (breath control) for up to six hours a day, three hours each morning and evening, but aside from some psychophysical phenomena such as luminous patterns and figures and a great outpouring of poetry, he had no other results (OH 78f.). It was at this point that he was induced to meet with Vishnu Bhaskar Lele. The meeting took place in January, 1908, while he was in Baroda to deliver several political speeches. After listening to an account of his yogic practice and experiments, Lele advised him to make a supreme effort to empty his mind completely. To accomplish this task they both went into a closed room and meditated constantly for three days. The result was not one that either Lele or Aurobindo expected or had desired.

The first result was a series of tremendously powerful experiences and radical changes of consciousness which he (Lele) had never intended -- for they were Adwaitic and Vedantic and he was against Adwaita Vedanta -- and which was quite contrary to my own ideas, for they made me sec with a stupendous intensity the world as a cinematographic play of vacant forms in the impersonal universality of the Absolute Brahman. (OH 79)

One can imagine the shock of such an experience upon one who was actively involved in the world seeking political and social liberation for his country. This was not a desired experience but was nevertheless an undeniable one.

In a letter to a disciple many years later, Aurobindo refers to this experience of the silent, spaceless, and timeless Brahman as a Nirvana experience.1 He recalled:

Now to reach Nirvana was the first radical result ofmy own Yoga. It threw me suddenly into a condition above and without thought, unstained by any mental or vital movement; there was no ego, no real world -- only when one looked through the immobile senses, something perceived or bore upon its sheer silence a world of empty forms, materialized shadows without true substance. There was no One or many --even, only just absolutely That, featureless, relationless, sheer, indescribable, unthinkable, absolute, yet supremely real and solely real. This was no mental realization -- it was positive, the only positive reality -- although not a spatial physical world, pervading, occupying or rather flooding and drowning this semblance of a physical world, leaving no room or space for any reality but itself, allowing nothing else to seem at all actual, positive or substantial. I cannot say there was anything exhilarating or rapturous in the experience as it then came to me -- (the ineffable Ananda I had years afterwards) -- but what it brought was an inexpressible Peace, a stupendous silence, an infinite of release and freedom. (OH 101)

The experience was to stay with Aurobindo for many months afterward before he began to experience other realizations, and even with them this peace remained. He remarked that,

. . . in the end it began to disappear into a greater Superconciousness from above. But meanwhile, realization added itself to realization and fused itself with this original experience. At any early stage the aspect of an illusory world gave place to one in which illusion is only a small surface phenomenon with an immense Divine Reality behind it in the heart of everything that had seemed at first only a cinematic shape or shadow. Amid this was no reimprisonment in the senses, no diminution or fall from supreme experience, it came rather as a constant heightening and widening of the Truth; it was the spirit that saw objects, not the senses, and the Peace, the Silence, the freedom in Infinity remained always with the world or all worlds only as a continuous incident in the timeless eternity of the Divine. (OH 102)

Thus the qualityless Brahman, while radical and overpowering at the time, did not remain as the final and ultimate realization for Aurobindo. This experience continued as a basis for tranquility and peace within but the illusoriness of the world which had arisen at the time of its initial realization became supplanted by other more inclusive ones. It is because of these later experiences that Aurobindo could not embrace the Mayavada doctrine of Advaita Vedanta.

Aurobindo does not deny the experience of the qualityless Brahman nor that in this experience the world appears as illusion. His own experience validated that. What he rejects is the Advaita Vedantist contention that this is the only experience and indeed the highest.

II

For Whitehead, "consciousness presupposes experience, and not experience consciousness so that experience is the primary reality; it includes relatedness to the entire universe (PR 53/ 83). Consciousness is a later emergent phenomenon of experience which highlights certain aspects of it but cannot in any way be exhaustive of it. How then can such a position be related to that of Aurobindo? The key is in the nature of the experience of concrescence, which for Whitehead is pure subjective immediacy. In the first part of this section, we will undertake a Whiteheadian analysis of yogic method followed by an understanding of the experience of Nirvana from a process perspective. It will be shown in the second part of this section that Whitehead’s understanding of creativity defined as universal subjectivity parallels very closely what Aurobindo intends to describe by the category of transcendental consciousness.

Whitehead on Yoga and Nirvana

Whitehead in his empirical theory of knowledge has two pure modes of perception, causal efficacy and presentational immediacy, which in ordinary perception are combined in the mixed mode of symbolic reference. In Symbolism; Its Meaning and Effect he defines presentational immediacy as "our immediate perception of the contemporary external world, appearing as an element constitutive of our own experience" (S21). Presentational immediacy is clear and distinct and presents to our awareness the immediate "buzzing" confusion of the world around us. It is the "there" and "now" element in human perception. Causal efficacy, on the other hand, while being more massive as the conformation of our experience to the reality of the past as it impinges upon the present, is also vague and a fairly undiscriminating mode of perception. Causal efficacy is the more fundamental mode, however, for it is the perception through which the interconnectedness and causal influence of one actuality upon another is experienced. Causal efficacy is also the basis for "the yet vaguer relata ‘oneself’ and ‘another’ in the undiscriminated background" (S 43). In ordinary perception these two pure modes are connected through symbolic reference where the experienced influence of a past occasion is referred to a particular vivid sense in the immediately presented duration. It is with symbolic reference that thoughts enter into the perceptual process and also error (PR 168/ 255). Most of what we experience in conscious perception is a product of interpretation and referential judgment, so that the possibility of error is introduced. But what would happen if the processes of symbolic reference could be silenced and the two pure modes were experienced directly? Would this allow for focusing upon the concrescent process itself? This is where yogic practice enters in.

The most important first step in meditation for Aurobindo is to achieve the quieting of the mind, the stilling of thought. In Whiteheads conceptuality this could involve the stopping of the process of symbolic reference. Aurobindo indicates that this silencing can come through the practice of pranayama and other forms of concentration which focus on a repetitive process such as breathing or the sound of a mantra. This would be an attempt to focus more precisely upon the causal influence of the organs of the body. By this concentration the process of connecting the felt influence of the world upon oneself to a specific locus projected in the world is reduced until, as yogic experience bears out, the process of reference is stopped completely. With the stopping of symbolic reference the connection between oneself as experienced through the causal influence of the world and the world of the ever fleeting present moment is lost. The two are perceived as functioning independently and one s connection to the present world may take on a certain artificiality because presentational immediacy lacks the intensity and connectedness of causal efficacy. Perceiving the present world as only so much continual change, without sensing any of this change as applying or connected to oneself, would perhaps be to perceive the present world as less real, more of a passing show of forms or shadows.

Yogic discipline would also seem to concentrate upon the sheer unified presentedness of concrescence by separating presentational immediacy from causal efficacy. The activity of concrescence, the very process of becoming in distinction from any specific case of concrescence tied to a referential particular, is devoid of qualities. It is that aspect of creativity which is the "many becoming one" but separated from the other aspect of creativity as being "increased by one." To "still the mind" would then be to have no thoughts or referential connections but nevertheless still to be involved in the actuality of the concrescent process itself, particularly as this concerns the unified impact of the past actual world. The separation of the two pure modes would then allow for focusing upon the actuality of this experience in the pure mode of causal efficacy rather than on the projected referents as we do in the normal thought processes of symbolic reference. This would open the individual to the sheer presentness of the unqualifiable unity of actuality in one’s own existence as a participant in the universal character of creativity. One is opened up to the character of concrescence as pure unified subjective immediacy rather than referring it to some objective referent in the immediately presented duration. This unqualifiable experience of unity would then also have the character of the pure "That" of existence, real and yet indescribable.

Whitehead on Consciousness

What Aurobindo had realized in the Nirvana experience was the cessation of the ego-consciousness in the all-pervading peace of the silent Brahman. The sudden disappearance of the ego is what gives the sense of the unreality of the external world, but for Aurobindo this experience lasted only a short while, being replaced by more integral experiences of an "immense Divine Reality" behind, above, and within everything that had at first appeared to be illusory (OH 102). Through these experiences the "That" was realized as pure, transcendent, unqualified Consciousness, such that Aurobindo could conclude that, "Consciousness is a fundamental thing, the fundamental thing in existence -- it is the energy, the motion, the movement of consciousness that creates the universe and all that is in it -- not only the macrocosm but the microcosm is nothing but consciousness arranging itself" (LY 236). Consciousness is then the fundamental reality in the universe of which all existence is a manifestation yet which itself is beyond any final qualification. "Consciousness" for Whitehead has a more restricted use applying to the subjective form of particular types of intellectual feelings; thus something much broader in Whitehead’s conceptuality must be found. Is there anything in Whitehead’s system which would compare to this experience of the qualityless reality? The answer is yes. It is creativity experienced as universal subjectivity. The closest parallel to the experience of the silent Brahman as pure consciousness is the experience of creativity as the pure subjectivity of the universe. Consciousness is absolutely fundamental for Aurobindo, and creativity is for Whitehead, so it is the purpose of this subsection to compare the experience of these two fundamental realities.

In a letter to a disciple Aurobindo clarifies what he means by consciousness in the Brahman state. He writes:

When Yajnavalkya says there is no consciousness in the Brahman state, he is speaking of consciousness as the human being knows it. The Brahman state is that of a supreme existence supremely aware of itself, svayamprakasa, -- it is Sachchidananda, Existence-Consciousness-Bliss. Even if it be spoken of as beyond That, paratparam, it does not mean that it is a state of Non-existence or Non-consciousness, but beyond even the highest spiritual substratum (the ‘foundation above’ in the luminous paradox of the Rig Veda) of cosmic existence and consciousness. (LY 234)

For Aurobindo the "highest experience" of Reality is as Sachchidananda, and yet even this does not exhaust the Reality (LD 32). So the Nirvana experience of Nothingness indicates not the unreality of Brahman or Brahman consciousness but rather "something beyond the last term to which we can reduce our purest conception and our most abstract or subtle experience of actual being as we know or conceive it while in this universe. This Nothing then is merely a something beyond positive conception" (LD 28). The experience of the pure consciousness then is experience of the Chit of Sachchidananda, and, while ultimately unqualifiable, it is nevertheless real.

What then might the experience of this consciousness be like? It is most often described as a "white existence" or a "golden light" which begins to descend as soon as the mind is stilled of all thought. According to Arabinda Basu this experience is undeniable.2 He states that "the deepest insight is the autonomy and independence of the Chit."3 The actual experience in the meditative consciousness is the sheer self-dependence of that "white existence" of consciousness. This consciousness is experienced as self-causing, requiring nothing else and indeed underlying all existence (the Sat), but it is also experienced as in dynamic self-reflective movement which gives rise to self-awareness (the Sat). There is thus an experience of both a static and a dynamic consciousness which is at the base of all existence and consciousness even in the other levels of awareness. Aurobindo relates:

In the state of pure consciousness and pure being we are aware of that only, simple, immutable, self-existent, without form or object, and we feel that to be alone true and real. In the other or dynamic state we feel its dynamism, to be perfectly true and natural and are even capable of thinking that no such experience as that of pure consciousness is possible. Yet it is now evident that to the Infinite Consciousness both the static and the dynamic are possible; these are two of its statuses and both can be present simultaneously in the universal awareness. . . . (LD 345)

This is the realization of what Aurobindo calls the "integral Brahman," of Brahman as both silent and active. For Aurobindo, then, Consciousness is the fundamental reality for the manifested universe and is understood as the energetic force present in all physical existence. It is, if you will, the ultimate ontological category and is the material cause of all that exists.

For Whitehead the only existents are subjects, "apart from the experience of subjects, there is nothing, nothing, nothing, bare nothingness" (PR 167/ 254). Everything that exists is an experiencing subject as this subjectivity becomes in the process of the movement from disjunction to conjunction. The over-all flow of this movement – "of the many become one and are increased by one" -- is creativity. Every existent is an instantiation of creativity, or, to put it another way, creativity is the category descriptive of the universal subjectivity of reality. As such, creativity is the material cause of the universe. For Aurobindo consciousness ms much broader than the ego-consciousness, whereas Whitehead uses consciousness" to refer only to that type of consciousness. The term "consciousness" is restricted in Whitehead’s philosophy to the description of the subjective form of particular types of intellectual feelings, namely those that experience the affirmation-negation contrast. Thus, a conception which is much broader than "consciousness" is needed to compare with Aurobindo’s use, but one which also categorizes individual experience. Creativity understood as universal subjectivity is such a category. Creativity, however, cannot be found through analysis, for analysis abstracts from the concreteness of the occasion and creativity is the concreteness. Thus, for Whitehead, "the sole appeal is to intuition (PR 22/32). It is only through the faculty of intuition that this universal subjectivity can be grasped, and it is this faculty which is heightened through yogic meditation. With the removal of symbolic reference and its concomitant abstract analysis, there may be a direct experiencing or envisioning through heightened intuition. Through intuitive perception in the pure modes of presentational immediacy and causal efficacy this universal subjectivity could be experienced, the very heart of reality itself. It could be experienced as the inherent dynamism, the "energy" or "motion" of the universe, and yet it is also unified, for it is the process of this diversity in unity. The direct realization of creativity would be possible because one’s true actuality in each moment is creativity or universal subjectivity. The realization of’ oneself as universal subjectivity might very well be an experience of light, because it could possibly be the realization of the pure energy of becoming. This would not be an outward physical light but could be the inner light of awareness as such constituting one sown subjectivity.

This subjectivity could also be understood as the awareness of pure subjective immediacy as the universal character of concrescence. This subjective immediacy is realized not as an external reality but as the very depth interiority of the process of creativity itself. Thus in Whitehead’s system this universal subjective immediacy of concrescence would perform an analogous function to that of consciousness in Aurobindo. It is the motion of creativity as the subjective immediacy of concrescence that is productive of the universe and is the process which is inherent in every moment of becoming. This would not constitute an ego-consciousness, for it is the awareness of the root process formative of all reality by which everything exists and is not seen as external or objectifiable. It would be the awareness of the pure energy of reality as it is constituted by subjective becoming. It is the movement of creativity as subjective immediacy that is productive of the universe not only as the individual moment of the actual occasion but of all macrocosmic processes as well. Here then the momentary immediacy of the occasion would mirror the universe not only through its universal relatedness but also because it is an instance of that which constitutes all instances in the cosmos. It is omnirelated as well as omnideterminative. Most importantly it is a participant in the universal character of creativity for it is creativity in its immediate instantiation.

The individual can realize the universal precisely because it is the universal in momentary immediacy. To achieve this awareness the momentary occasion focuses upon its sheer immediacy and does not project this upon some external object. By so doing, it is aware that this immediacy is all that there is and that it is self-existent or as Whitehead said, causa sui. The awareness of intuitive realization of the subjective immediacy of concrescence then is the awareness of the energetic force present in all existents and as such serves the same ontological function as consciousness in Aurobindo. It is the material cause of all existence. As the subjective instantiation of creativity, it could also perceive creativity as divine precisely because creativity is experienced as ultimate. The ultimate character of the universe itself as pure subjectivity could then also be experienced as the pure, transcendent, unqualified "That" of existence.

III

What then has been shown? First of all, not only that Whitehead’s conceptuality can be used to analyze the processes of yogic meditation but that also it can make sense of Aurobindo’s experiences of Nirvana and transcendent consciousness. It was shown that through the separation of the two pure modes of perception by the stilling of symbolic reference, Aurobindo’s experience of Nirvana could be explained. The pure perception in the mode of presentational immediacy without reference to causal efficacy could result in the experience of the objective world as illusion. Perception in the mode of causal efficacy understood as the interrelatedness of the universe as it impinges upon the individual without the specificity and clarity of presentational immediacy could yield an experience of an unqualifiable unity at the base of all existence as one perceived the actuality of concrescence. Secondly, it was indicated that the experience of an all-pervading consciousness could be understood in Whiteheadian terms as the self-awareness of every becoming moment as an instance of creativity understood as universal subjectivity. In each case consciousness and subjectivity is manifested in the individual and is the pure awareness of the individual’s existence. Creativity could be experienced through the individual’s own instantiation of it, but it can also be realized through the primordial instantiation in God. In the latter case, creativity could be experienced as qualified by the divine existence, consciousness, and satisfaction in an analogous way to Sachchidananda. This indicates that reflection founded in exoteric experience can be useful in illuminating at least certain forms of esoteric experience. This may not be a "meeting of the twain," but at least it may be an acknowledgement that the twain exists.

 

References

LD – Sr. Aurobindo Ghose. The Life Divine. Two volumes. Pondicherry: Sri Aurobindo Ashram, 1973.

LY -- Aurobindo Ghose. Letters on Yoga. Three volumes. Pondicherry: Sri Aurobindo Ashram, 1971.

M -- Evelyn Underhill. Mysticism: A Study in the Nature and Development of Man’s Spiritual Consciousness. Twelfth edition. New York: New American Library, 1955.

OH -- Sri Aurobindo Ghose. On Himself. Pondicherry: Sri Aurobindo Ashram, 1972.

TM -- Walter T. Stace. The Teachings of the Mystics. New York: New American Library, 1960.

WNCD – A Merriam Webster. Webster’s New Collegiate Dictionary. Eighth edition. Springfield: C. & C. Merriam Co., 1977.

 

Notes

1Aurobindo understands Nirvana, in the literal Sanskrit meaning as nir-va-na, meaning extinction, "blowing out," the blowing out of the vital flame. He does not, however, equate this with the total annihilation of being. In The Life Divine he defines Nirvana as "Extinction, not necessarily of all being, but of being as we know it; extinction of ego, desire and egoistic action and mentality" (LD Glossary 22). He thus differs in some respects from the Buddhist use of this word, particularly as it was developed by Nagarjuna. See Frederick J. Streng, Emptiness, Study in Religious Meaning (New York: Abingdon Press, 1967), especially Chapter 5. See also Arthur Anthony Macdonell, A Practical Sanskrit Dictionary (London: Oxford University Press, 1974), p. 143.

2 Arabinda Basu is Director of the Sri Aurobindo Research Academy and Professor of Philosophy at the Sri Aurobindo, International Centre of Education in Pondicherry, India. He is one of the leading expositors of Aurobindo’s thought to the West.

3 This statement was conveyed in personal conversation in Claremont, California, in January 1978.

Hartshorne and Creel on Impassibility

In Divine Impassibility: An Essay in Philosophical Theology, Richard E. Creel has authored a systematic and sustained discussion of the time-honored issue of the impassibility of God. As James Keller has observed in a review for Process Studies (PS 15/4), not only is the work an important investigation of the topic as such, it is a highly original treatise in philosophical theology in its own right, which develops virtually an entire doctrine of God around the focus of a single issue. The work should be of special interest to close students of White-head and Hartshorne, for Creel is pointedly concerned throughout with contemporary process philosophy. Most importantly for my own particular interests, Creel’s work represents an important exchange between the perspectives of contemporary analytical theism and contemporary process theism. Indeed, I think that the future of the "process movement," at least in the English-speaking world, depends in some measure on its ability to engage the interests of analytical philosophers and natural theologians. Creel’s attempt at dialogue between the two traditions is thus worth careful consideration.

In this essay I will be specifically concerned with the topic of Professor Creel’s treatment of Charles Hartshorne’s view that God is passible in concrete acts of knowledge, will, and feeling. I will proceed by first presenting a general account of Creel’s concept of impassibility and his basic position. I will then go on in a second section to examine his crucial defense of the doctrine of God’s eternal knowledge of all possibility with a particular view toward the important Creel-Keller debate on that doctrine published in Process Studies (PS 12/4, 15/1). In a third and final section, I will examine Creel’s critique of Hartshorne s version of emotional passibilism. The net result will be a defense of the view that, while Creel’s critique of Hartshorne is certainly well-informed, thoughtful, and deeply searching, and while the issues at hand are some of the most difficult and tangled in the whole field of philosophical theology, I am not yet readily convinced that he has provided a satisfactory critique of or alternative to Hartshornean passibilism/impassibilism.

I

The topic of divine impassibility has a long history in Christian thought and culture. As Creel notes (DI I), the Post-Apostolic theologians employed the Greek term apathes in some of their assertions about God, taking this to mean, as for instance in Origen’s De Principiis, that God’s bliss cannot be altered and that God lacks all emotion other than bliss. Augustine once suggested that no one could be judged sane yet hold that God is affected by misery. However, many modem Christian theologians have pointed out that biblical theism, with its pervasive notions of God as loving and personal, stands in tension with such claims, for a loving person is not ordinarily conceived as a person unaffected or unmoved by that which is loved. This is not merely the view of modern process theologians. For instance, the British thinker A. M. Fairbairn once wrote that "theology has no falser idea than that of the impassibility of God," and theologian Douglas White denounced impassibility in strong language as "the greatest heresy that ever smirched Christianity" (cited at DI 2).

One of Creel’s seminal insights into this issue is that the long and vexed debate over impassibility has been unduly complicated by the fact that there are many senses of impassibility which are unconsciously conflated in the discourse of theologians. He discerns no less than eight semantically distinct usages of the term "impassible." This means that the question of impassibility is not the simple question, Is God passible or impassible?," as is sometimes presumed, but rather involves an affirmation or denial of impassibility with respect to each of its eight distinctive senses, making for the formal possibility of sixteen theological positions regarding the doctrine of impassibility. Fortunately, according to Creel, these eight senses can be grouped into four genera of senses. Consequently, God can be conceived as passible or impassible in (a) nature, (b) will, (c) knowledge, and (d) feeling. In what is to follow immediately, I will attempt to summarize Creel’s position with respect to each of these generic senses of impassibility in turn.

(a) The question of divine impassibility in nature is the least controversial of the four. Most thinkers who are usually considered passibilists, including Hartshorne, agree with those who are usually considered impassibilists that the divine nature or essence cannot be altered. Creel cites Hartshorne approvingly as writing in A Natural Theology for Our lime (DI 13, NTT 44):

If we abstract from God’s contingent qualities, with respect to the rest of his reality we can view classical theism as largely correct. Here indeed is the uncaused cause, impassible, immutable, and all the rest of it.

Of course, there may be and certainly are a number of disputes about precisely which attributes or predicates God possesses essentially or non-contingently rather than non-essentially or contingently. For example, some philosophical theologians regard God as essentially timeless while others regard God as essentially temporal. But few are willing to hold the view that once one has correctly fixed the notion of divine nature or essence, then God or anything external to God could alter that nature or essence.

(b) With respect to impassibility of will, Creel acknowledges the position of Hartshorne and Nelson Pike (in his God and Timelessness) that an impassible being who is timeless and immutable simpliciter cannot be impassible in will. For an impassible being in this sense cannot be said to have a will in any meaningful sense. The core of Hartshorne’s and Pike’s reasoning here is that to have a will or purpose or intention is to bring about something in time in which there is continual adaptation to a "continually changing present in order to bring about the achievement aimed at" (DI 15). Since, by definition, this cannot be said of an impassible being who is timeless and immutable simpliciter, then an impassible being cannot have a will or purpose or intention.

Creel’s own position is that, while he concurs that God is not timeless and immutable simpliciter, he also holds that the denial of timeless immutability simpliciter does not entail that God is passible in will. To see how he could claim this to be so, his position on divine knowledge needs to be introduced.

(c) Creel has been convinced by Hartshorne’s writings that God cannot know the future as actual until it becomes actual (DI 46, 62). In fact, he submits an interesting counterargument against the "neo-Molinist" position of Alvin Plantinga and Alfred Freddoso, who maintain that at any moment God knows all future contingent events in their full detail (DI 89-92)1 According to Creel, Molinism begs the question by assuming that God could know in advance of creaturely decisions which possible world the actual world is. That is to say, Molinism holds that, since God knows all possible worlds and thus all free responses to conditions in all possible worlds, and since the actual world is a member of the set of possible worlds, God knows creaturely decisions in advance. However, argues Creel, since free creatures are co-determinants with God in bringing about exactly which possible world is actualized, God logically cannot know which possible world the actual world is in advance of free creaturely decisions.

Yet, Creel is not convinced that Hartshorne is correct in his view of divine knowledge of possibility. Contrary to Hartshorne’s position that divine knowledge of possibility grows (in some sense) with the creative advance of actuality, Creel maintains that God eternally knows all possibilities. This claim is a crucial part of his argument and he devotes a key chapter entitled "Continuity, possibility, and omniscience" to vigorous defense of it (also see PS 15/1). On the assumption that God does not know in advance whether a given creature will decide to do X, God’s will with respect to X is nonetheless already decided, so that God will respond accordingly if X should become actual. This is possible because God can predecide responses to the possibles that God eternally knows. In this sense, then, God’s will is impassible; it could never be altered by any circumstances which might actually occur.

(d) The fourth and last sense of impassibility concerns feeling. Creel argues that God is impassible in feeling, yet it is coherent to hold that God is a loving person. In defense of this view, he argues that, if God has eternal knowledge of possibility (abbreviated by Creel as EKP) and is impassible in will, then God could and certainly would (given that the divine nature is love) predecide loving responses -- responses promoting the good of creatures -- to all possible circumstances and actions of free creatures. Furthermore, Creel argues that there are embarrassing and uneasy tensions in Hartshorne’s passibilist view that the aesthetic quality of the divine life -- God’s happiness -- depends on us, and yet, as Hartshorne insists (MVG 240), God has an infinite wealth of happiness. A more coherent picture of divine feeling, Creel holds, would be to maintain with classical theism that God is always and impassibly blissful, always has full knowledge of the creative advance of actuality and all possibility, but does not in any way physically prehend the feelings of creatures or have the feelings of creatures as if they were God’s very own. This is consistent with the notion that "God is love, because, Creel maintains, a person can coherently be said to love another without having the feelings of another as one’s own. In fact, Creel argues that profound loving is inhibited by dependence on emotion (see, e.g., DI 117-21).

In sum, according to Creel’s account, he holds with Hartshorne that God is impassible in nature and passible in knowledge of actuality (and immediate possibilities relevant to the becoming of actualities), but, contrary to Hartshorne, that God is impassible in will, knowledge of possibility, and feeling. In point of clarification, however, it ought to be said that, in light of Hartshorne’s concept of dipolarity, his position vis-à-vis Creel could be best phrased as follows: God is strictly impassible in nature and thus perfect adequacy of will, perfect adequacy of knowledge of actuality and possibility, and perfect adequacy of feeling, but is passible in the concrete or particular states of will, knowledge of actuality and possibility, and feeling, which instantiate God’s impassible transcendental

Finally, as a point of terminological clarification of Creel’s basic position, note that he sometimes speaks of divine volition in terms of responses to creaturely decision, but he also asserts that it is "perhaps more accurate" to speak of God’s eternal presponses, or if one is inclined to Boethian eternalism, indesponses of will (DI 23, 209). This means (on taking Creel’s own temporalistic position contra Boethius) that his deity in fact engages in two kinds of volitional acts -- eternal and impassible presponses to all possibles and secondary volitions in which God wills the already decided presponse as the proper response to an actual temporal occurrence.2

II

The key to Creel’s position is clearly the doctrine of EKP.3 For only if EKP is sound is Creel’s view of impassibility of divine will sound, as we have seen in the preceding exposition. But is EKP sound?

This is not an easy matter to decide. Indeed, Creel and Hartshorne both confess that their own positions on divine knowledge of possibility are in some ways "obscure and difficult" (DI 52f, CSPM 59). Despite this, I will here venture a response to Creel which maintains the following: (1) Hartshorne is in fact committed to the view that God has EKP in a very qualified sense, (2) this qualified EKP does not imply that God could eternally predecide responses to all possibles, (3) Creel’s position faces the horns of a dilemma -- either God predecides responses to all possibles by virtue of a formula or algorithm (which I argue is conceptually ill-formed on two counts) or God could exhaust a continuum (contrary to Creel’s acceptance of the Peirce-Hartshorne continuity thesis), and (4) Hartshorne’s position does not suffer from five defects alleged by Creel. In the proceeding I am indebted to the careful examination of Creel’s position given by Professor James A. Keller, but I will submit some qualifications and new points of contention, and I will attempt to help Keller do a better job by fleshing out suggestions and providing analogies and phenomenological or intuitive support.

Perhaps the best way to begin a discussion of the issue at hand is to examine Creel’s and Hartshorne’s view of the basic nature of possibility. Creel agrees that Hartshorne’s Peircean doctrine of possibility is correct (DI 36). The exact qualities achieved in the becoming of any two actualities produce a continuum of qualitative difference between them. But, as C. S. Peirce points out, a continuum is intrinsically infinite, meaning that a continuum is "something every part of which can be divided into any multitude whatsoever" (Collected Papers 3.569, cf. also 6.170). As such, a continuum is a determinable and contains no determinate points if we think of a determinate point as a well-ordered, unique, atomic individual distinct from all others. Because a continuum is such that any given part of it can be divided into any multitude whatsoever, a continuum cannot be actualized exhaustively in principle, i.e., in such a way that all the atomizations of quality inherent in the continuum could be exhaustively displayed as atomized units of quality. It follows from this that not even God could exhaust a continuum, for it is simply logically impossible to exhaust a continuum.

While Creel agrees fully with Hartshorne’s continuity thesis derived from Peirce, he denies that this entails that God cannot have eternal knowledge of all possibles apart from divine knowledge of actualities. The chief reason for this denial, according to Creel, is that by knowing a continuum of possibles God knows the possibility of each individual inherent in the continuum without knowing any possible individuals" (which he holds are unintelligible in light of Peirce’s analysis of continuity). The reason that God can know this about continuity is because we can know this about the continua of which we are aware. Creel writes (DI 43):

We are all familiar with the fact that we can take two sticks of equal length that are hinged at one end only and rotate them from a fully closed position to a fully open position, i.e., from an angle of 0o to an angle of 180o. If we close the sticks again, add an elastic band to the unhinged ends of the sticks, and then open them again from 0o to 180o, we will in the process have circumscribed the angularity of every possible isosceles triangle. I submit that when we realize this we will have understood what a Euclidean isosceles triangle is because we will have comprehended it as a continuum of possibilities.

The significance of this, according to Creel, is that by understanding a continuum of isosceles triangles, "we know all there is to be known about the possible relations among the angles of isosceles triangles" (DI 44). ‘Thus, by indexing a response to each possible situation that might arise, God is not indexing responses to each and every one of an infinite set of discrete individuals, but rather to the set of such individuals constituting a continuum. By knowing a continuum, God knows the kind of thing which could be atomized from a continuum.

We have been discussing continua in the plural, but Creel suggests that all possibles reside on a single continuum or "one grand range of potentiality" (DI 204). In fact, he devotes a very interesting chapter of his book to a defense of what he calls "the plenum," which is the entire domain of passive potentiality out of which God creates contingent actualities. I take it that the plenum is a single continuum of possibles, since Creel speaks of it as a unity, as "the dwelling-place of all possibilities" and as "something which passively contains the full range of logical possibilities" (DI 68, my italics). Indeed, as Keller rightly argues (PS 15/1: 291-92), Creel is compelled to place all possibles on a single continuum if he is to avoid the problem of nondenumerable groupings of things into eternal kinds of possibles, i.e., if the set of possibles is eternally divided into specific groups of possibles, then any arbitrary level of grouping specificity would be permissible and this tacitly affirms that the inexhaustible can be exhausted.

Keller also notes that, for Creel, God’s predecision for the whole continuum of possibles would be accomplished by fixing upon a "super-formula" as is modeled in the way that, say, the formula X=3y can specify an output for a nondenumerable set of inputs. But if this is what Creel’s view amounts to, namely, that God employs a super-formula or algorithm to predecide responses to all possibles, then I think he is rather clearly mistaken. At best I think it is unhelpful to suggest this notion as a way of making it clear how God could predecide responses to all possibles. One reason I say this is because algorithmic procedure will not hold even for the entire scope of mathematics. Recently, this point has been made rather nicely in Roger Penrose’s discussion of mathematical problems which are not "algorithm resolvable."4 Consider the Diophantine equations of classical Greek mathematics. For instance, how could an algorithm be produced which gives integer solutions for the following Diophantine set?:

[z3-y-1 = 0, yz2-2x-2 = 0,y2 2xz+z+l = 0]

In this case, we certainly can give a solution, namely, x=13, y=7. and z=2, but there is no generalizable way of getting the solution to this or any other arbitrary set of Diophantines. The Diophantines are "case by case," non-recursive,5 and irreducibly set specific. Of course, Creel could respond to this with an argument from ignorance: perhaps God, being an unattenuatedly omniscient mathematician (an assumption that Hartshorne would not reject), is somehow aware of an algorithm which generalizes the Diophantines and any other non-recursive domain of mathematical entities. But surely this would amount to special pleading, since we have no positive reason even to suggest that the Diophantines are anything other than non-recursive.

Another line of argument against Creel’s algorithm or super-formula view has been suggested by Keller. He writes, "I do not think that most process thinkers will find this [Creel’s algorithm] satisfactory, for they understand creaturely situations to be basically aesthetic constellations . . . and I suspect that the idea of a formula for giving aesthetic responses to every possible situation is impossible" (PS 15/1: 291). Keller does not develop this line of argument, but I think it could be done so (at least in outline) as follows: An important theme in Hartshorne’s metaphysical work is the problem of quality-structure duality. In a brief essay on Roy and Wilfrid Sellars, for instance, Hartshorne observes that Wilfrid Sellars6 has argued formidably for the position that mental states have a qualitative content (and it is phenomenologically ineluctable to say otherwise), which simply cannot be reduced to the structural-quantitative terms of neurophysical explanations of mental states (CAP 240). In fact, Hartshorne notes, structural notions such as geometrical figure have the logical status of abstract determinables, not concrete determinates. Any actual geometrical representation is never a mere geometrical object, say, a mere octagon, but rather, a white or green or blue octagon, etc. And it is naive to object that the color spectrum is reducible to mathematical form, since a color is "nothing more" than a quantifiable frequency of photon emission. For it can be quickly countered that a color is (or is not separable from) a color-sensation -- a psychophysiological event (somehow) with phenomenological content. To talk about a "quantifiable frequency of photon emission" is not to talk about a color, but to talk about that which gives rise to color-sensation.

Indeed, on this point of there being an irreducible phenomenological distinction between structure and quality, there is wide agreement among philosophers as disparate as the Sellarses, Russell, Whitehead, DeWitt Parker, and more recently R. M. Adams and R. G. Swinburne.7 The question which arises acutely for Creel’s position here is obviously: How could a divine algorithm or super-formula ever bridge the logical gap between structure and quality? In proffering such a suggestion I think Creel is tacitly committing the fallacy of misplaced concreteness. To borrow a phrase from F. H. Bradley, no "bloodless dance" of number or mathematical formulae could ever yield a quality (although the converse seems to be true -- number and geometry can be abstracted from a quality).

Now, Keller also attempts to argue against Creel’s position as follows: Creel himself admits that a nondenumerable continuum cannot be exhausted in principle and that even God cannot know as discrete all the potentia inherent in a continuum. But Keller holds that, if God cannot know as discrete all the potentia inherent in a continuum, then God cannot have predecided a response for each possible and therefore cannot have an impassible will. "For if something has not been brought to full conscious awareness [namely, a discrete possible], would not a decision about it be a decision about one knows not what?" (PS 15/1: 2).

I do not think the point of Keller’s rhetorical question follows or at least not exactly. I want to revise his question in this fashion: "If something has not been brought to full conscious awareness, would not a decision about it be a decision about one knows not somewhat?" This revision indicates the way in which I think Hartshorne’s view of divine knowledge of possibility ought to be interpreted. The extent to which God lacks full conscious awareness of possibles is the extent to which God cannot predecide responses to possibles. However, Hartshorne’s God has knowledge of all possibles in some way or another, because if such God did not this would be tantamount to saying that some possibles were not inherent in the abstract continua -- the cosmic variables -- that, according to Hartshorne’s explicit statements, God eternally knows (cf. BH, Ch. XIII). Thus, the situation of Hartshorne’s theory is more subtle than either Creel or Keller envisions: In one qualified manner of speaking, for Hartshorne, God has EKP and thus God’s knowledge of possibility is comprehensive. However, it does not follow that God’s possession of comprehensive EKP in this qualified sense entails that God could eternally predecide responses to all possibles. For despite this qualified EKP, God’s knowledge of possibility is ever increasingly fine-grained.

I wish to develop this interpretation of Hartshorne by way of first considering an aspect of his view that Creel finds particularly puzzling. In an often cited passage, Hartshorne complains against Whitehead’s theory of eternal objects that: "I do not believe that a determinate color is something haunting reality from all eternity, as it were, begging for instantiation" (CSPM 59). I might spell out what is troubling Creel here by noting that the following cosmological scenario is acceptable to Hartshorne in principle: Exactly eight cosmic epochs ago, or, say, some 350 billion years ago or what have you, the actual conditions for the color spectrum came into being and only then did God or any other entity have the foggiest notion of the imminent possibility of color. Does not the point of emergence here seem arbitrary and odd?

One Hartshornean response to this will no doubt be that the color continuum has category specificity and is thereby contingent and therefore ought not to be regarded as non-emergent in principle, whatever our subjective expectations. After all, one can conceive a possible world without color sensa, for such a world would not differ in this respect from historical states of this actual world in which presumably evolutionary process had not reached the stage of organisms with sensory organs capable of color sensation.8

What is more, if we accept Whitehead’s position on eternal objects, or any view which maintains or implies that discrete possibles are once and for all complete, then we have the following difficulty, which I find more intractable than any paradox incurred by the Peirce-Hartshorne continuity thesis and its rejection of eternal species of quality: The set of discrete possibles is absolutely, infinitely complete -- for Whitehead, they are forms of definiteness there for the prehension or envisagement even if they cannot all be consciously envisaged -- and this commits us to the view that there is a highest infinity in extra-mental reality. Cantor’s Big Omega is thus codified in the Whiteheadian domain of eternal objects, since such objects are definite, and thus countable, yet they admit of no additions. But most transfinite mathematicians reject the conceptual existence of Big Omega on grounds of a number of severe paradoxes,9 and any proponent of the theory of eternal objects must face such paradoxes. Hartshorne has been particularly concerned to reject Whitehead’s view of eternal objects, not only because of the powerful case for nominalism made by Quine, Goodman and others (CSPM 59), and Everett Hall’s arguments to the effect that the theory entails all the difficulties of extreme Platonism without gaining any benefits for Whitehead’s system,10 but because it is a self-referentially incoherent position for process theists. One cannot consistently accept the notion of a highest infinity (as implied in the doctrine of discrete eternal objects), while simultaneously rejecting (as do process theists) the Thomistic notion of God as esse ipsum subsistens, which in effect defines God as the realization of a highest infinity.11A thoroughly consistent process theism which understands itself ought thereby to reject any notion of an eternally complete set of discrete possibles.

But it would not follow from Hartshornean principles that, given any arbitrary color-empty possible world or world-state, God would have absolutely no awareness whatsoever of the possibility of the color continuum. God could have awareness of the possibility of the color continuum in a rough or approximate way because God, according to Hartshorne, would always have knowledge of the affective continuum -- the continuum of feeling -- under which the color continuum is subsumed. In his early essay on cosmic variables in Beyond Humanism (111-24), Hartshorne argues that the variables applicable to all possible situations are those whose concepts admit, not just an infinite range of instances, but an infinite scope, i.e., exemplification in every actual entity. The concept of feeling, he holds, is one of these variables. Thus, God always has knowledge of the affective continuum and some actual instances of it. Granted, to be sure, God could not know in advance of any actualizations of color sensa exactly what a color sensation would be, but God could always know it approximately and analogously, because God would always know some actual sensation or other which has an intrinsic connection to color sensation on Hartshorne’s theory of the affective continuum. Indeed, part of the significance of a continuum is that any instance of it shares something in common with every other instance. For example, coolness is analogous to blue as warmness is to red. In The Philosophy and Psychology of Sensation, Hartshorne makes this notion of intrinsic connection between sensory modes quite explicit as follows (PPS 6, my italics):

The type of relation existing between colors, whereby one is connected with or shades into another through intermediaries can be generalized so as to connect qualities from different senses...or from different elementary classes (e.g., secondary and tertiary qualities).

In a manner of speaking, then, for Hartshorne, the possibility of the color continuum has always existed, since it is an intrinsic part of the affective continuum which is always somehow actualized. Thus, according to my reading of Hartshorne’s theory, God does have some eternal knowledge of all possibility. The important qualification here is that just to the extent that possibles for future actualization are distant, ill-defined, and non-imminent, they are known vaguely and only through analogy with the creative advance of actuality.

But none of this entails that Creel is correct in holding that God’s knowledge of dense continua of possibles enables God to predecide responses to all possible circumstances. For I present him with the following dilemma:

(1) Either God knows all possibles through an algorithm for possibles or God knows all possibles as discrete. 12

(2) The arguments already submitted against the algorithm approach appear to exclude that alternative.

(3) The remaining alternative contradicts Creel’s own understanding of possibility as a continuum.

Thus, unless Hartshorne’s theory of divine cognition of possibility itself incurs obvious and irresolvable difficulties, it should then be asserted that Hartshorne’s position seems correct: if possibility is of the nature of a dense nondenumberable continuum, God cannot eternally know all possibles as discrete and God cannot predecide responses to all possibles as discrete.

Professor Creel will surely respond that Hartshorne’s theory does incur some rather obvious and apparently irresolvable difficulties. I discern at least five lines of argument (see DI 50-63):

(i) Hartshorne’s God has brought about an infinite past and has learned an infinite number of things. Consequently, Hartshorne’s God "has learned all that could be significantly learned" (DI 53). This "learned" knowledge is no different from EKP.

(ii) If God lacks EKP, then God’s action on the world must be conceived as experimental, partially ignorant, and based on trial and error. This is an unpalatable consequence for divine omnipotence.

(iii) God’s omnipotence implies that God has EKP.

(iv) Hartshorne’s view implies that God is eternally "recessively ignorant."

(v) Hartshorne’s view of the unrepeatability of actual instances of quality implies that the divine memory becomes increasingly distorted as tune advances.

I will respond to each of these objections in turn.

(i) Creel is correct to point out that, for Hartshorne, at any arbitrary point in the divine history, no matter how far we recede, God has already accumulated an infinite knowledge of actuality and possibility "grounded" by the creative advance of actuality. This is an inherently weird, but I do not think absurd, consequence of holding that God’s creative activity has no beginning. (Anyone who holds that God is essentially temporal, whether or not one also holds the process conviction that God is essentially creative, faces the same inherently weird consequence. For an essentially temporal God would always know, by definition, an infinitude of divine states [or a divine state] through an eternity of time.) But it simply does not follow from this that such a God at any point could not learn anything of significance about possibility. The reason is that, again, according to a widely shared intuition of mathematicians, any given transfinite is less than the absolute infinite (Cantor’s so-called Big Omega). Now, for Hartshorne, at any point at which a new actual occasion X completes its concrescence, a (partially) new kind of thing comes into being and into divine cognition. It is the kind of thing whose instances lie between the parameters set by the exact qualia of X and the exact qualia of all past actual occasions forming the set complement of X, and not just a new particular thing. So, even though God knows an infinite number of things, there is yet an infinite number of kinds of things which God at any arbitrary time will come to know, if any arbitrary transfinite is less than the absolute infinite. And surely "partially new kinds of things" are things of significance for God to know. Thus, I see Creel’s objection here as a non sequitur.

(ii) Creel is correct to suggest that Hartshorne’s God does not know entirely what will be the outcome of any given concrescence of an actual occasion, whether divine or non-divine. For Creel, this raises a serious puzzle

There is here, it seems to me, a serious question as to how God knows what he can bring about and how to bring about anything that has not yet existed. Does he use trial and error? Does he thrash about and accidentally discover what is possible and how to cause it?

As Keller points out, however, this is misleading (PS 15/1:11). For Hartshorne’s God has knowledge of the range of final outcomes of actual occasions, and consequently it is mistaken to assert of such God that it "lures into existence something he knows not what" (DI 55).

Perhaps an example will more clearly illustrate the force of Keller’s complaint. For the purposes of illustration, think of the process God’s agency as partly or weakly analogous to an artful archer aiming an arrow at a target. The archer has definite knowledge of parameters deemed "the bull’s eye zone." The archer definitely knows the parameters of string pressure, bow positioning and aim within which the arrow will strike the bull’s eye. (This aspect of the analogy is grounded in the process God’s absolutely perfect knowledge of the past.) But the actual outcome of the process, the exact location of the arrow’s strike, is not known by the archer. What is known by the archer prior to the outcome is that a bull’s eye strike will be achieved. Supposing all these conditions, should we then think of the archer, or by analogy God, as not knowing what she or he is doing or as "luring into existence what one knows not what"? Of course, the analogy here is only a weak one, since, on the process view, the target and the arrow are all partially self-moving, but it effectively makes its point, I think, about the inappropriateness of describing Hartshorne’s God as utterly out of control of things or as requiring experiment to achieve certain general yet specifically bounded aims.

(iii) Creel maintains that divine omnipotence entails divine EKP. God’s omnipotence, according to Creel, entails that God has "unlimited powers of thought" (DI 59). Now, Hume is celebrated for his thought-experiment in which he claims that human beings can imagine a shade of blue between two shades of blue given to perception, although they might never have actually perceived such an intermediate shade before attempting to imagine it. If this holds in the human case then should not God, unlimited in powers of imagination, be able to discriminate any shade of blue whatsoever? If this is so, then God has EKP.

Keller correctly argues, I think, that this proposal begs the question (PS 15/1: 9-10). His point is made in the context of discussion of a somewhat different variation on Creel’s theme that omnipotence entails EKP: Creel also holds that since God has the power to create any shade of blue and since God knows that this is within the divine power, God thereby knows the possibility of any shade of blue whatsoever at any arbitrary time. The problem here is that if God can create any shade of blue at any arbitrary time, what would preclude God’s cutting all points of a continuum? Indeed, in asserting that God knows any shade of blue whatsoever by imagining it as in the case of Hume’s missing blue, this just seems to be a verbally distinct way of asserting that an inexhaustible continuum could be exhausted, which Creel admits is logically impossible. Given Creel’s commitment to the continuity thesis, the reasoning here is internally inconsistent.

(iv) Creel correctly observes that Hartshorne’s position implies that God learns about possibility as time advances. But, if that is the case, then as we recede into the past God has less and less knowledge of possibility. Thus, at one point or another in divine history, Hartshorne’s God was as ignorant as a present day "clam" (PS 12/4: 224).

Now surely Hartshorne does not wish to hold that God could ever be as ignorant as a present day clam. Fortunately, this view does not follow from his position for three reasons. First of all, if my interpretation of Hartshorne is correct, his God does have qualified EKP. God eternally has some knowledge, always partly vague and analogue-dependent knowledge, of all potentiality. Presumably no clam or any other finite being could have such knowledge. Second, as Keller suggests (PS 15/1: 12), a clam or any other finite being is capable of only finite subranges of possibility, while Hartshorne’s God at any time always has knowledge of infinite actuality and infinite sub-ranges of possibility. Thirdly, Hartshorne’s God purportedly has all the knowledge of possibility that logically could be possessed by any being whatsoever at any arbitrary juncture. It is no fault of omniscience that there are logical limitations to what can be known inherent in the concepts of time and possibility as continuum. (In all fairness, Creel is quite cognizant of this point [DI 55], but he wants to try to make the case for the intelligibility of what he sees as a more "exalted" notion of divine knowledge.)

(v) Creel’s fifth line of argument is surely the weakest, for it is predicated on a clearly faulty interpretation of Hartshorne’s view.13 He begins with Hartshorne’s statement at CSPM 64 that "particular qualities in their absolute definiteness are irreducibly relational and historical." This means that each divine and non-divine actual occasion is unrepeatable in its absolute definiteness. But, if no actual occasion is unrepeatable, then Creel reasons that the actual occasions of divine memory are constantly changing and thus distorting the divine cognition of the past as time advances (PS 12/4: 228).

As Keller again rightly points out (PS 15/1: 13), this argument fails to distinguish between Hartshorne’s and Whitehead’s notion of the uniqueness of the subjective form of concrescence and the data of concrescence. In other words, for Hartshorne and Whitehead, each actual occasion reacts to its data in a unique way (Whitehead’s "subjective form" of occasions), but it does not follow from this (indeed it is explicitly rejected by both philosophers) that the data prehended by each actual occasion in its process of concrescence are as data subject to alteration in any way. This is the meaning of the process doctrine of the perishing of actual occasions. Once the actual occasion has completed its process of feeling and thus defined itself, it becomes being and will remain so eternally for both subsequent divine and non-divine prehension.

I conclude provisionally that, if my and Keller’s counterarguments are correct, Creel has not clearly established that Hartshorne’s position on divine knowledge of possibility suffers from the defects that he claims it suffers from. For all Creel has shown, Hartshorne’s view of divine knowledge of possibility is at least viable and not obviously incoherent or obviously religiously pernicious.

III

In agreement with the classical theistic tradition of Augustine, Anselm, and Aquinas, Professor Creel maintains that God should be regarded as an emotionally impassible being. To be sure God knows of our suffering, according to Creel. But this does not entail that God must feel our suffering such that God thereby suffers. God is eternally blissful and is completely emotionally unaffected by what goes on in the domain of creaturely actuality. In a chapter of DI entitled "Divine Impassibility in Feeling," Creel responds resourcefully and in detail to the arguments of theistic emotional passibilists. In this section, I will be concerned with only one of these arguments, namely, the argument of Charles Hartshorne that divine omniscience entails that God must be emotionally passible. I point out, however, that if Hartshorne’s position can be vindicated here, it would be sufficient for rejecting emotional impassibilism.

Hartshorne has maintained the view that to know fully and concretely is to feel fully and concretely. In fact, the great distance between God and creatures can be measured by the great difference between divine and creaturely feeling (MVG 163). Creel agrees with process philosophy that, it seems axiomatic that to know, intuit, or feel someone else’s feeling is to have that feeling oneself in some sense" (DI 129, my italics). If this is not admitted, it seems a "mystery" how one could know a feeling at all (DI 129). (Apparently then, Creel, like process philosophers, must reject Anthony Kenny’s account of omniscience and experience in which God can know "the information content of our perceptions without the hedonistic content." 14) However, Creel contends that God can have a feeling in some sense without being in the state of the feeling. This is because there is a certain "epistemic distance" in divine cognition of feeling in which there would be realization "that the feeling was not direct but indirect, not original but derivative, not primary but secondary" (DI 129). Indeed, Creel, I think quite rightly, regards the view that knowledge of a feeling is to be in the state of that feeling as "disastrous" for theology, for it would mean that God could feel stupid, nauseated, drunk, sexually excited, jealous, depressed, etc. This would obliterate any intelligible distinction between God and creature.

Hartshorne surely agrees with Creel that to feel is not to have the feelings of others as one’s very own. For example, he asks pointedly, "How can God feel the sadistic joy of a malicious man without being sadistic?" (CSPM 241). He answers in terms of Whitehead’s distinction between "subjective" and "objective form" of feeling (CSPM 241). God indeed feels the sadistic joy of the man (the "objective form"), but appropriates those feelings into a synthesis of feelings involving evaluation ("intellectual prehension"), resulting in a unique, partially reactive, subjective form of divine feeling.

The conclusion that Creel draws from the view that God can have feelings without being in the state of those feelings is, however, that "there is nothing in the nature of omniscience which requires that God be caused suffering or joy in his own life by virtue of knowing the sufferings and joys of others" (DI 131). I think this conclusion is much too strong as it stands. For it seems to me to suggest that God is simply not affected by creaturely feeling, and I want to argue that one can be affected by the feelings of others while still not having those feelings as one’s very own.

The point of Hartshorne’s talk about "participation in feeling" is that there can be experience whose fabric is shaped, influenced, affected by the feelings of others, yet is not identical to the feelings of others. I grant Creel, as surely would Hartshorne, that God is not affected in the same manner in which creatures are affected by knowing creaturely feeling, because this would be incompatible with certain features of the divinity of God. To use Hartshorne’s own example, in knowing the human experience of threat of death, God is not thereby put in a state of fear, because God is everlasting and thus cannot die and God knows this because God is omniscient (CSPM 263). But it does not follow from this that God is sheerly unaffected by or blissfully indifferent to human experiences of the threat of death.

Indeed, affective states seem to me to be highly complex, nuanced, and multi-layered. Their actual tertiary texture is composite yet identifiable as unified, as "mine." In fact, it is quite possible for precise qualities of feeling to be altered, while the gestalt, the essential or predominant character of the unity of feeling, is not altered. For example, as I write this paragraph, I feel at T "some itchiness on my skin and a slight stiffness of muscle, but basically absorbed in thought," and at T1 I feel, "decreased itchiness and increasing stiffness, but basically absorbed in thought." If this is a correct phenomenology of feeling, I see no reason why it could not serve as a model for understanding how God’s quality of feeling can be altered in precise elements of affect by knowing creaturely feeling, while there remains a gestalt of feeling which is constant and predominant.

Notwithstanding, it is important to notice that Hartshorne also adheres to the view that God is impassible in the categorically superior mode of happiness which attends the inner life of deity. Hartshorne writes (MVG 239f-40):

. . . since at all times God enjoys an infinite past, the wealth of happiness which he possesses is never less than infinite. Though not completely beyond tragedy or the possibility of increase in happiness (nor the risk of falling short of the maximal possible increase), yet is he superior to us in happiness, with a unique incomparable superiority, as the gap between the finite and infinite is unique.

There seem to be several reasons why Hartshorne would want to hold this position: (i) God’s happiness is always superior to creaturely happiness, because, according to Hartshorne’s metaphysical theory, God has always been creating some world or other and every world has some beauty as a whole (CSPM 289-90), and thus God has an infinite accumulation of experience of beauty. Creaturely happiness can only be constituted by a finite accumulation of aesthetic value, by definition of "creaturely." (ii) The divinity of God excludes a number of negative emotions such as fear of death, hatred and envy as the subjective form of divine feeling. For, on Hartshorne’s theory of divinity, God cannot die, the divine all-inclusiveness entails that God’s self-interest coincides with God’s interest in all others (precluding any "I against others" which is a necessary condition for hate), and God is categorically supreme and knowledgeable of this status and thus cannot be envious. (iii) God’s contemplation of the abstract essence of divinity is a unique source of happiness which God forever enjoys (PSG 162). Finally, as a significant corollary of (iii), (iv) the intention to enhance future experiences of creatures is itself an element of present harmony in the divine life (CSPM 308).

Creel is sensitive to this position and he finds it "more consistent" than other versions of theistic emotional passibilism (since Hartshorne admits that items of suffering are really items of suffering ingredient in divine feeling and are not to be "transformed away") (DI 139), but he is hardly satisfied with it. In particular, he points out (DI 136):

Hartshorne’s position is sensible as far as it goes, but there is an important omission. There seems to be no ascertainment of the weight that God’s enjoyment of his essence contributes to the total package of the quality of his experience at any moment. Does God’s essential happiness constitute 50% of his happiness at any given time, so that free creatures can affect only the other 50%? Or is the ratio somewhat different? 1% happiness from his essence and 99% happiness/unhappiness from others? Or vice versa? In short just how passible is God with respect to his happiness?

I surely grant Creel that I do not see how anyone could make a specific determination about the ratio between God’s essential happiness and creaturely contributions to that happiness. Moreover, I think it fair to say that, because of this, Hartshorne’s view is not entirely free of obscurity. I do not think, however, that it is by any means hopelessly obscure. The reason I say this is because of my just suggested phenomenology of feeling as complex and multi-layered. As I reflect on the aesthetic quality of my own life, I find that there have been relatively long stretches of time in which I could honestly say that I was happy, even intensely so, although during those times I was episodically physically ill, reacting to certain stresses, rather excessively cold, rather excessively warm, crying at movies, embarrassed, angry, hungry, thirsty, etc. The overall gestalt of happiness persisted despite this variety of episodic affective states. I do not at all know how to quantify the factors contributing to my overall sense of happiness, but I do know that, as a matter of phenomenological fact I have been in complex states of profound-happiness-cum-vicissitudes-of-living. Since I can make some sense out of this in my own case, I submit that some sense can be made out of Hartshorne’s God who is everlastingly, essentially happy, yet emotionally passible in the strict sense, a fortiori given the mentioned freedom from sources of unhappiness which Hartshorne’s God enjoys by virtue of divinity.

In conclusion, I find no insurmountable difficulty presented by Creel sufficient to prescind the neoclassical theistic position that divine omniscience entails that God is emotionally passible in precise elements of affect, yet impassible in the categorically superior mode of divine happiness. Notwithstanding this and the earlier verdict, process thinkers should be indebted to Creel for a penetrating and challenging examination of some of Hartshorne’s central doctrines.

 

References

BH -- Charles Hartshorne. Beyond Humanism: Essays in the Philosophy of Nature. Gloucester, MA: Peter Smith, 1975.

CAP -- Charles Hartshorne. Creativity in American Philosophy. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1984.

CSPM -- Charles Hartshorne. Creative Synthesis and Philosophic Method. LaSalle, IL: Open Court, 1970.

DI -- Richard E. Creel. Divine Impassibility: An Essay in Philosophical Theology. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986.

MVG -- Charles Hartshorne. Man’s Vision of God and the Logic of Theism. Hamden, CT: Archon Books, 1964.

NTT -- Charles Hartshorne. A Natural Theology for Our Time. LaSalle, IL: Open Court, 1970.

PPS -- Charles Hartshorne. The Philosophy and Psychology of Sensation. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1934.

PS 12/4 -- Richard E. Creel, "Continuity, Possibility, and Omniscience," Process Studies 12/4 (Fall 1983): 209-231.

PS 15/1 -- James A. Keller, "Continuity, Possibility, and Omniscience: A Contrasting View," Process Studies 15/1 (Spring 1986): 1-18.

PS 15/4 -- James A. Keller, "Critical Studies and Reviews: Richard E. Creel’s Divine Impassibility," Process Studies 15/4 (Winter 1986): 290-296.

PSG -- Charles Hartshorne with William L. Reese. Philosophers Speak of God. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1953.

Notes

1Process philosophers and theologians have been slow to respond to the now longstanding development of the middle knowledge perspective in contemporary analytical philosophy of religion. The only direct "process" response of which I am aware is Eugene Peters, "Divine Foreknowledge," Encounter 40 (Winter 1979): 31-34. For a quite thorough and I think essentially correct critique of middle knowledge see William Hasker, God, Time, and Knowledge (Cornell University Press, 1989), Ch. 2. Hasker recognizes the clear affinity between his position on divine knowledge and that of process theology, but he opts for Creel’s view of God’s knowledge of possibility (Hasker, 188-189). Also see Donald Wayne Viney’s well-written piece, "God Only Knows? Hartshorne and the Mechanics of Omniscience" in Hartshorne, Process Philosophy and Theology, ed. by R. Kane and S. Phillips (State University of New York Press, 1989), and my "Some Recent Philosophers and the Medieval-Renaissance Problem of Future Contingents" forthcoming in The Midwest Quarterly.

2 In a footnote at DI 209, Creel remarks that, "Leibniz objected correctly to the implication of occasionalism, and by anticipation modern process philosophy, that God is incessantly making billions of decisions every millisecond in response to what is happening in the world. Such a concept of God seems unnecessarily complex." However, since Creel’s God has two sets of volitions, namely, eternal presponses to an infinitude of possibles and efficiently causal volitions which match the presponse to actualities, I hardly see simplicity of volitional acts as a virtue of Creel’s model of deity! (I owe this point to David Griffin who was respondent to an earlier version of this article presented at the Center for Process Studies at Claremont. California.)

3EKP abbreviates "eternal knowledge of possibility."

4Roger Penrose, The Emperor’s New Mind: Concerning Computers, Minds and the Laws of Physics (Oxford University Press, 1989), p. 129.

5A set is recursively innumerable only in case the set can be generated by an algorithm.

6Wilfrid Sellars, "The Double-Knowledge Approach to the Mind-Body Problem," The New Scholasticism 45 (Spring 1972): 269-89.

7See Hartshorne’s references at CAP 240 and 243. Also see R. M. Adams, The Virtue of Faith (Oxford University Press, 1987), Ch. 15, and R. G. Swinburne’s "Arguments From Consciousness and Morality" in his The Existence of God (Oxford University Press, 1979), pp. 160-75.

8This assumes Hartshorne’s point against Whitehead, or rather an interpretation of Whitehead, that, say, molecules do not literally enjoy color sensa. Granted, there is some controversy as to whether Whitehead actually held that low-grade entities enjoy color sensa. For discussions of this issue see Hartshorne’s ‘The Interpretation of Whitehead (Reply to John W. Blyth)," The Philosophical Review 48 (July 1939): 415-23, and David Ray Griffin, "Hartshorne’s Differences from Whitehead" in Two Process Philosophers: Hartshorne’s Encounter With Whitehead, ed. by Lewis S. Ford (American Academy of Religion, 1973), pp. 40-45.

9Prof. Rudolf Rucker presents an Argument from Reflection for the inconceivability of the Absolute Infinite as the set of all ordinals and maintains a moderate form, of set-theoretic realism most amenable to Hartshorne’s view of general eternal objects. Infinite sets less than the Absolute Infinite share definite mathematical properties with the finite integers (e.g., regularity) and are subject to clear criteria for set-generation (unlike the Absolute). Thus, Cantor’s actual infinites can be accepted while rejecting the existence of the Absolute Infinite. See R. v. B. Rucker, Infinity and the Mind: The Science and Philosophy of the Infinite (Birkhauser Boston, 1982), pp. 206-11, 276-80.

10E W. Hall, "Of What Use Are Whitehead’s Eternal Objects?," in Alfred North Whitehead: Essays on His Philosophy (Prentice-Hall, 1963), pp. 102-16. Whiteheadians who support the doctrine of eternal objects disagree sharply. Although Professor Ford has more recently changed his mind on this issue, a good statement of reasons favoring Whitehead’s view can be found in Lewis S. Ford, "Whitehead’s Differences From Hartshorne" in Two Process Philosophers, pp. 58-65.

11 I take this view to be implied in the following passage: "Consider the phrase ‘greatest possible number.’ It, too, can be smoothly uttered; but does it say anything? It might be used to define infinity; but I am not aware of any mathematician who has thought this a good definition. There are in standard mathematics many infinities unequal to one another, but no highest infinity." Hartshorne, Omnipotence and Other Theological Mistakes (SUNY Ness, 1984), p. 7.

12Even if Creel is not compelled to place all possibles on a single continuum, the algorithm approach will fail for all non-recursive formal mathematical possibles and all possible aesthetic constellations, for the reasons already stated.

13This misunderstanding carries over into Creel’s discussion of Hartshorne’s emotional passibilism as I argue in Sec. III. But he also misunderstands the process position on the efficacy of actual occasions (DI 182). The concrescence of new actual occasions is initiated by past occasions, which are effective precisely because their subjective immediacy, their career of concrescence, has perished. Yet on something like Creel’s view that God sustains each individual (see DI 183-87), Hartshorne holds that God provides each actual occasion its total or essential object of prehension, thus constituting as well as altering each actual occasion (see his The Divine Relativity [Yale University Press, 1948], pp. 134-42, esp. 139.)

14Anthony Kenny, The God of the Philosophers (Oxford University Press, 1979), p. 32. Interestingly, Kenny defends this position with the notion that God’s knowledge is comparable to the knowledge that an architect has of a house by virtue of knowing its design. Kenny’s view is therefore much like Creel’s algorithm approach, which I have rejected.

Is the Past Finite? On Craig’s Kalam Argument

William Lane Craig has authored a well-informed historical account and sophisticated modern defense of the cosmological argument for God’s existence which has its origin in the medieval Arabic practitioners of kalam (sometimes translated ‘scholastic theology’). The work (K) should be of special interest to process thinkers since the kalam cosmological argument challenges an important tenet of process metaphysics, namely, that the class of finite actualities has infinite members -- the infinitude of past events. In other words, Craig’s defense of the kalam argument upholds the position that the past of finite events had an absolute beginning a finite time ago.

In this essay I shall examine some of Craig’s arguments for this position, concurring with him that they have cogency; yet I shall also uncover a process theist’s rebuttal which appears to have equal cogency. I conclude that Craig and the process theist are at an impasse so that if a decision is to be made concerning the cognitive superiority of either the kalam or process theistic models, this must be made by appeal to issues in philosophical theology other than the question of the extension of the past.

I

Before I get into the body of my commentary and reflections, a few remarks on the programmatic structure of Craig’s book are necessary. Part I, "Historical Statements of the Kalam Cosmological Argument," presents various formulations of the argument found in al-Kindi, the Jewish thinker Saadia ben Joseph, and al-Ghazali. Part II, "A Modern Defense of the Kalam Cosmological Argument, is organized around Craig’s valid syllogistic formulation of the argument (K 63):

First Premise: Everything that begins to exist has a cause of its existence.

Second Premise: The universe began to exist.

Conclusion: Therefore the universe has a cause of its existence.

Since it is the Second and not the First Premise which is controversial, Craig devotes the larger portion of Part II to a discussion of it. The central chapter on the Second Premise (K 65-140) contains: (i) a refutation of the attempted application of Cantor’s transfinite mathematics to the domain of extramental reality, (ii) two philosophical arguments which attempt to show the conceptual absurdity of the notion of an infinite past of finite actualities, and (iii) two arguments from physics (concerning Big Bang and Thermodynamic theory, respectively) which attempt to show that probably the natural universe had an absolute beginning a finite time ago. Craig then briefly defends the First Premise (K 141-48), largely with respect to the classic objection of David Hume. (Hume’s objection is shown to commit a non sequitur.) He then concludes that the universe has a cause of its existence, which by definition transcends the whole realm of finite reality, and which must be a personal or psychic being. (In this latter respect he follows an old, but I think largely cogent, argument of al-Chazali’s.) In effect, for Craig, the existence of a personal Creator ex nihilo, and only that, is established by the argument.

In what is to follow I will examine those strands of Craig’s philosophical argument for the view that the universe began to exist which seem to be the strongest. I will not discuss his two arguments from physics for three reasons. (i) These arguments can at best establish some probability that the natural universe had an absolute beginning. They cannot remove the possibility of an uncompromised process theism. (ii) Craig’s argument from thermodynamics depends upon assuming that the natural universe is a closed system, and so it will have force only for those who make that assumption. But we need not make that assumption, especially if we have antecedent and independent grounds for theistic belief. That is to say, if theism is true, the natural universe might well be open to divine ordering and restoring influences which alter thermodynamic conditions. (iii) Most importantly, Craig has apparently overstated the extent to which cosmological physicists are agreed upon a finite Big Bang cosmology,1 so I am skeptical of his claims concerning the strength of the scientific evidence.

II

Craig validly schematizes the basic philosophical argument to be discussed as follows (translation into strict categorical and syllogistic form produces a valid EAE, figure 1 syllogism, K 103):

1. A temporal series of events is a collection formed by successive synthesis.

2. A collection formed by successive synthesis cannot be an actual infinite.

3. Therefore the temporal series of events cannot be an actual infinite.

First of all, unless one is to deny that there is a temporal series of events, premise (1) above is true. The temporal series of past events is not a collection of events which coexist simultaneously. For, some past events had not occurred when others did in fact occur, e.g., when the death of George Washington took place, the birth of Charles Hartshorne, twentieth century philosopher-theologian, had not taken place. Thus, the temporal series of past events is clearly "instantiated sequentially or successively" (K 103).

Yet the process theist is clearly committed to a denial of premise (2). For both Whitehead and Hartshorne (PR 345-51/ 523-33; CSPM l00f., 125f.), the divine consequent nature is everlasting or infinitely temporal, entailing that God has been interacting with the domain of finite actualities for an infinitely past time, and that God will continue to interact with finite actualities infinitely in the future. In turn this entails that, for Whitehead and Hartshorne, there is, at any arbitrarily designated present, a completed infinite collection of events which has been formed successively or in temporal sequence.

Premise (2) must be upheld, Craig argues, since (i) it is logically impossible to count or successively synthesize an infinite quantity, and (ii) the assumption of an infinite past destroys the contrast between actuality and potentiality.

The issue of ‘counting to infinity’ is relevant here, since it is a continuously repeatable, publicly accessible datum that each new event in the temporal series can be counted as it occurs. There is a real, not just imagined, correspondence between quality and definite event. Indeed, counting has just the asymmetrical character that the ocurrence of temporal events has. Counting "maps" the occurrence of events. Yet one could never reach a complete infinite set of events that is assumed to exist by infinitistic process theists prior to any given Present. This is the case since "for every element one adds, one can always add one more. Therefore one could never arrive at infinity. What one constructs is a potential infinite only, an indefinite collection that grows and grows as each new element is added" (K 104).

Process philosophers have a ready response to this. Charles Hartshorne has objected to this very same reasoning as we find it embodied in the thesis of Kant’s First Antinomy: "Counting to infinity is an incompletable process. Of course this is true if the process has a beginning. But that is the question at issue. Must it have a beginning?" (CSPM 126, my italics). In other words, a past process which ex hypothesi is infinite cannot have a beginning by definition. So nothing is really proven by appealing to the impossibility of counting to infinity, since any such count must have a beginning.

Craig, while not addressing Hartshorne explicitly, does offer a strong counter-argument to this kind of objection. An examination of it will take us to the heart of his case. The counter-argument resides in his citation and defense of G. J. Whitrow’s argument2 to the effect that an infinitist is committed to the idea of an infinite number of intermediary past events which ex hypothesi ought to be able to be counted or successively synthesized (but which everyone agrees cannot be), and that this very situation of infinite intermediaries obliterates the intuitively sound distinction between actual past and potential future.

The Whitrow argument can be reconstructed as follows (see K 200f). Assume that there are an infinite number of past events. Let E be the present event in some infinite, arbitrarily selected chain of temporal events. Now, on the infinitist assumption, E has both an finite past and infinite future, but with a difference. The infinite past of E is actual; the infinite future of E is potential. A potential future infinite has two defining characteristics: (i) for any event in the future of E there will be further future events, and (ii) any event in the future of E which becomes actualized is separated from B by a finite number of intermediary events in the temporal chain to which E belongs. We have already assumed that the infinite past is actual. But if that is so, then the chain of events antecedent of E is actually infinite, and there must be some actual event 0 that is separated from E by an infinite number of intermediaries. For to deny that there really is an infinitely distant actual event O is to give up either the actuality of the infinite past or the infinitude of the actual past. (On either alternative the infinitist assumption is undermined.)

But when in the temporal chain does O occur; when does there come an event, not finitely, but infinitely distanced from E? Of course this is impossible to answer in principle. No matter how far we mentally trace the events ensuing between E and O, we could never arrive at O since O is an infinite distance from E. The infinite distance of O requires that we never halt the regress in order to specify O. This establishes that the logical impossibility of specifying some infinitely remote past event O is equivalent to the logical impossibility of specifying some infinitely remote future event B’ (infinitely remote from E). Moreover, if ever we halt the regress of past events in order to specify O, then O functions in every way like a "future" or "potentially related" event of E, for: (i) there will always be events in the past of O, and (ii) there will be a finite number of intermediaries between O and E (and this satisfies the two formal criteria for O’s being in a "potential, future relation" to E). Thus the infinitist assumption obliterates the distinction between actual past and potential future by giving the past characteristics definitive of potentiality or futurity.

We can connect Whitrow’s argument with Craig’s intuitions about counting to infinity, but this time, we will run the sequence from the past to the present (indeed, the past is symmetrical). Since the infinitist must hold that there is an actual event O which is infinitely distant from any arbitrarily designated present B, we may take the existence of O as logically positing an infinite number of intermediaries between O and E, and we can then ask how an infinite series of’ intermediary events, one after another, could be instantiated and exhaustively enumerated so that we finally reach E.

It appears to me that the above argument concerning specifically the obliteration of the past and future is not effective, at least against counter-arguments of process philosophers. By holding that "there will always be events in the past of 0" and "there will be a finite number of intermediaries between O and E" is definitive of O’s being in a "potential" relation to E, one commits a subtle "fallacy of misplaced concreteness." For it can be argued plausibly that the real difference between the categoreal contrasts "past actuality" and "future potentiality" is not seen in abstract relations having to do with mere location in the extensive continuum, but is seen in the definiteness of the description (including inherited history) which can be discerned (at least in principle) for the event in question.

Thus, an actual and past sea battle is distinct from a potential and future sea battle in that the events constituting the actual sea battle can be specified (in principal or for an ideal knower) to any level of definiteness (including subatomic details), while the potential sea battle has no such definite particulars; it is the more or less general sea battle which, if actualized, will be particularized somehow.

If this is denied, then it seems that, as Bergson once put it, "potentialities" are just actualities taken over again; they are definite particulars somehow waiting to be actualized. The intuitive decision as to whether an event belongs to the past or future does not depend upon any aspect of quantity (i.e., whether the event belongs to a sequence having infinite or finite members), but does depend upon an aspect of quality (i.e., whether the content of the said event is sufficiently rich or particularized). Indeed, if the past is infinite, it must share certain abstract characteristics, such as are embodied in Whitrow’s two criteria, by virtue of its infinitude, with any other infinite sequence.

Nonetheless, Craig’s argument concerning specifically the logical impossibility of counting to infinity does have force, and it does so granting any principles of process philosophy. For consider: all that Craig requires his opponent to assume is that there is at least one actual or definite event which is infinitely past relative to some designated present event E. But any process philosopher who upholds the hypothesis of an infinite past actuality is committed to that much. For, if the past contains nothing but actual or definite events, as process philosophers assume, then any and every past event referred to is actual or definite. And, if the sequence of past events is infinite in extension and is always so relative to any designated present, as process philosophers assume, then, in conjunction with the above, there must be at least one actual event O which is infinitely past relative to some designated present event E.3

Note that the argument involves no circular "sneaking in" of the notion of a beginning of the past. It involves only the beginning of a sequence, O to E, which the hypothesis of an infinite past commits one to. In other words, the argument states simply that, if there is at least one actual event O infinitely in the past of a designated present event E, then we can legitimately ask how it is possible for there to be an enumeration, one event counted after another, of the sequence starting with O and ending with E.

Craig’s reasoning here leads to the recognition that an infinite collection is something which, to be thought of at all, must be thought of as given all-at-once or given in totality. In other words, such a collection must be simply posited, for it cannot be conceived as something which is formed item by item. There is only one way we can legitimately conceive a set which is actually infinite to which items are being successively added. That would be to conceive it as having "an infinite ‘core’ to which additions are made" (K 105). But this would not be a set formed by successive addition, since in this case there would always exist an unformed, surd infinite, namely, the infinite core to which additions are being made. And of course the temporal series of events cannot be depicted in this way, since every part of the series is formed by successive addition.

All of these arguments are quite compatible with Cantor’s transfinite mathematics, despite what some might erroneously think (see K 63-95). Cantor’s aleph-null, the first of the transfinite cardinals, has no immediate predecessor and thus cannot be arrived at by counting or successive synthesis. Aleph-null must be merely assumed to exist as a given totality. This means that Cantor’s "mathematical paradise" should be understood as follows: Let there be a mathematical universe such that sets constitutive of it have the defining feature that a part of the set is equal to the whole of the set. Given such sets, what would their formal relations be like? The response to this question is Cantor’s arithmetical operations. Indeed, the overwhelming consensus among mathematicians who work with transfinites is that transfinite mathematics entails no ontological commitment.4 In fact, when Platonic realism or Russellian logicism (which holds to the extra-mental reality of infinite sets) are employed as interpretations of infinite sets, we open the door to the very antinomies and problematics, such as the Burali-Forti antinomy and Russell’s difficulty with sets and impredicative definitions, which have led mathematicians and philosophers of mathematics to new interpretations of set theory such as the axiomatic. As Craig observes in concurrence with Pamela Huby (K 201),5 far from establishing the real possibility of actual infinite sets, the very existence of antinomies attaching to Cantorian type sets looms large as a mark against the view that an actual infinite set could be instantiated extra-mentally.

III

I think that Craig has submitted some formidable arguments. At present I see no fatal defects (other than where noted) in the reasoning examined here. In spite of this, it is my view that this does not mean that process theism must be considered either defeated or in need of drastic revision. The metaphysical-theological issue of infinity is a very special, queer one. For there may be considerations of equal cogency which show that a finite past is absurd. Indeed, I see one strategy open to the process theist which would force Craig to admit, on the basis of his own case, that a successive actual infinite could be instantiated.

At one juncture Craig admits that, "Some persons might be prone to reject the argument if they thought it involved a beginning to time, which they regard as an impossibility (K 106). His response to such persons is that the kalam proof is neutral as to the two competing theories of time, the absolute and the relational theory. That is to say, the proposition that ‘the universe of finite events had an absolute beginning a finite time ago’ is compatible with (a) an absolutist point of view in which the universe arose in an "undifferentiated" time which existed prior to the universe, and with (b) a relationist point of view in which time itself arose with the first finite event. For Craig, there is no obvious absurdity involved in either of these points of view, nor any obvious absurdity in combining either point of view with the kalam argument. The difficulty I see resides in Craig’s assumption that the absolute theory of time and the kalam argument are compatible. Indeed, this difficulty becomes fatal when compounded with the impressive case that can be made for an absolute theory of time, to which I now turn attention.

It seems that the absolute theory of time, in so far as it involves the proposition that ‘temporal duration cannot have a limit’ is sound. Inspired by Richard Swinburne’s Space and Time,6 the following argument for this proposition is compelling.

Grant that some unit interval of temporal duration has occurred, say, the first Planck time (10-43 second) of the physicist’s Big Bang event. (Anyone who chooses not to grant this -- that is, that unit intervals of time occur -- will pay the cognitive price of violating one of our most basic conceptual intuitions for the sake of an exotically speculative philosophical position.) For convenience, let us call this interval P. Now, since P is a unit interval of time, this logically entails that time can have no beginning. For suppose ex hypothesi that P is the "first" unit interval of time, contrary to the hypothesis that time has no beginning. We see at once that it would be an absurdity to say that P is (1) a unit interval of time, while also (2) a first unit interval having no predecessor. For, if P is a unit interval, then P is, by the meaning of "unit interval," bounded by an antecedent interval prior to P and an interval posterior to P. And since the interval prior to P is a unit interval (or a moment of eternal duration, which automatically grants our case), then it too has its antecedent unit interval, and so on ad infinitum. Thus, if P has occurred, time has no beginning. But P did occur, and so time has no beginning.

One might object that prior to the physicist’s first Planck time, there was an initial absolutely stationary state of the universe or (inclusive disjunction) of God, and that since time can only exist where there is change, time does not exist always, i.e., in case of a stationary state of affairs descriptive of the universe class. However, this objection not only depends upon the controversial thesis that there really could be an absolutely stationary state, but also upon the assumption that "time can only exist where there is change." Such a criterion for the existence of time can be shown to be very problematic. Thus, J. R. Lucas points out that such a criterion for time involves not only technical tense-logical difficulties,7 but also involves a denial of the basic intuition that time is a concomitant of consciousness -- we are aware of time even in the most tranquil of environments (TTS 13). (This is an intuition of such universal acknowledgement that it is granted even by the "skeptics" who deny that time is a feature of the external world, e.g., Grünbaum, Weyl, Costa de Beauregarde.) What is more, those who hold this criterion seem to be mistaking the "measure" for the "meaning." Simply because we measure time by the motion of clocks does not mean that time is not there to be measured if the motion of clocks is absent. "Time is not what the clocks say, but what they are trying to tell, are there to tell" (TTS 10).

A second objection might be that, however plausible our philosophical argument above, absolute time "went out with Newton" after the Einsteinian revolution. But this wide-spread assumption is at best a gross overstatement:

The relativity that Newton here rejected is not the relativity that Einstein propounded; and although the Special Theory of Relativity has shown Newton to be wrong in some respects, and in particular has shown that we should not think of time by itself in complete independence of everything external, time is related to space, and also to velocity, contrary to Newton’s opinion, it has not shown that time is relative in Newton’s sense, and merely some numerical measure of process. (TTS 90)

Newton’s position that time is "objective" and "rules" our measurement of time (not vice versa) is vindicated by the fact that we have a rational theory of clocks, i.e., we presuppose that all our clocks can and ought to be corrected, wherever we note irregularities.

Indeed, if Craig is to admit, as he does, that the kalam argument shows that a personal Creator exists, then this seems to amount to an argument that the Creator cannot on any condition be timeless. For, it cannot be true of a personal deity that it is timeless, since time is concomitant of consciousness whatever else it is, and a personal God is conscious, intelligent, etc.

Suppose then that time is a limitless constant. Further suppose for the sake of argument that the kalam argument is correct: no finite events exist prior to creation, although the Creator exists prior to creation. This means that the Creator has existed throughout an infinite duration of time.

Now Craig quickly sees the paradox arising here as suggested in a paper by Julian Wolfe,8 namely, that this very eternity of time prior to creation represents the instantiation of an actual infinite series. Craig attempts to purge the paradox by pointing out that the kalam argument contends only "that an infinite number of events cannot elapse, not that an infinite time cannot elapse" (K 172). However, clearly this will not do, because Craig leaves out of account the existence of a Creator who is, on his own admission, a personal spirit which by definition has experiences. Are the personal Creator’s thoughts, feelings, enjoyments to be excluded from the class of events in time, once we have admitted the reality of time prior to special creation? There is absolutely no reason I can conjure to think that they should be.

Will someone reply that prior to creation there is only a single divine event, not a number of divine events which might elapse? But surely a single, undifferentiated-yet-temporal, divine event would have the characteristic of asymmetry. For if the time of the precreation divine experience did not share the successive nature of postcreation divine experience (which entails asymmetry), how could we characterize it as time at all? How could it be said to differ from timelessness? This query seems to lead inescapably to the conclusion that, in this case, there would be a successive actual infinite, namely, the actual asymmetrical infinitude of divine experience -- not mere time -- prior to the hypothesized act of special creation.

But now we have shown the instantiation of an actual infinite process, and this undermines any confidence that the infinitistic process theist must be wrong.

IV

At the present, my concluding estimation of the whole matter is this. The process theist’s best strategy with respect to Craig is to argue for the necessity of time, as I have done and as does Hartshorne (MVG 233f., PSG 60), and to go on to show the severe conundrums and paradoxes this necessity involves for the kalam proof with its claim that there can be no actual infinite process. We are then, it seems to me, faced with a choice between two paradoxical positions on the infinitude of God. God is either a unilateral or a processive infinite being, both views involving their respective paradoxes. However, a decision to adopt the process theistic model over the classical type kalam model could be supported by demonstrating process theism’s relative absence of paradox when other matters in philosophical theology are considered, such as the problem of evil, theory of omniscience, theory of omnipotence, etc. In other words, process theism might be judged cognitively superior, not because it involves no paradox, but because it involves least paradox in comparison with the formally possible theological alternatives, when all issues are considered.

I should add that I do not suppose that the "antinomy" of models of divine infinitude is real in the final analysis. For in that case, reality is inherently contradictory or irrational. I hold such a position to be itself irrational, since it collapses in order to be maintained as a consistent non-self-contradictory truth. Somehow one model or the other is fully consistent, even if I cannot presently see how this is so. Perhaps, as one suggested way out, Cantorian or Dedekindian proofs are applicable to the problem after all, as indeed J. R. Lucas thinks they are applicable to making sense out of the "destiny" of infinitesimal instants in his absolute theory of time (TTS 29-34).

Of course, the efficacy of the above strategy also depends upon showing that process theism forms an exclusive contrast with any theistic model which is a logical implicant of a special act of creation. In other words, the cognitive superiority of an uncompromised process theism could be maintained as long as there is no philosophically tenable via media model, such that God creates ex nihilo, but possesses the attributes of a dipolar, temporalistic God once there is something finite to be in relation to. For, in the case of a tenable via media, the theoretical advantages of process theism would not be its exclusive property. The investigation of such models, such as the one recently proposed by William P. Alston,9 is, I suggest, the next frontier for research in process philosophical theology.

 

References

CSPM -- Charles Hartshorne. Creative Synthesis and Philosophic Method. LaSalle: Open Court, 1970.

K -- William Lane Craig. The Kalam Cosmological Argument. Library of Philosophy and Religion Series, edited by John Hick. New York: Barnes and Noble, 1979.

LP -- Charles Hartshorne. The Logic of Perfection. LaSalle: Open Court, 1962.

MVG -- Charles Hartshorne. Man’s Vision of God and the Logic of Theism.

PSG -- Charles Hartshorne and William L. Reese. Philosophers Speak of God. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1953.

TTS -- J. H. Lucas. A Treatise on Time and Space. London: Metheun, 1976.

Notes

1Cosmologist Joseph Silk holds that Big Bang cosmology "cannot answer.. at all," the question, Did the universe exist prior to this moment [the moment of the initial Big Bang singularity]?" See his The Big Bang: The Creation and Evolution of the Universe (San Francisco: W. H. Freeman, 1980), p.61. Apparently the interpretations of currently available cosmological data are more controverted than one would surmise on the basis of Craig’s account of recent cosmology. Craig also claims that process theology requires a steady state universe (K 170), even though Hartshorne explicitly denies steady state theory on philosophical grounds (LP 214). The idea of ‘cosmic epochs’ seems to fit nicely with an oscillating model having repeated ‘hangs’ and contractions’.

2 C. J. Whitrow, "Time and the Universe," in The Voices of Time (London: Penguin, 1968), pp. 567-68, and "On the Impossibility of an Infinite Past," British Journal for the Philosophy of Science 29 (1978), 39-45. In this same journal issue see Sir Karl Popper’s rejoinder, "On the Possibility of an Infinite Past: A Reply to Whitrow, 47f. Popper’s reasoning against Whitrow seems to me quite feeble. He argues that the set of past events is actually infinite, while the series of past events is potentially infinite. As Craig remarks, this is nonsense, because if the series of past events were potentially infinite, the past would have to be finite and growing in a backwards direction (K 204).

3 I should point out that apparently not all philosophers who could be reasonably interpreted as "process philosophers" have held the infinitist hypothesis regarding the past. Henri Bergson is a case in point. As Milic Capek has argued, "taking into account all Bergson’s utterances relevant to this problem, it is clear that he, indeed, did accept the finitistic thesis." See Capek, "Appendix III: Bergson’s Thoughts on Entropy and Cosmogony," in his Bergson and Modern Physics (Dordrecht: D. Reidl, 1971), p. 37sf.

4 Cf. A. A. Fraenkel, Abstract Set Theory (Amsterdam: North-Holland, 1961), especially p. 240, and B. Rotman and C. T. Kneebone, The Theory of Sets and Transfinite Numbers (London: Oldbourne, 1966), especially p. 60f.

5 Pamela M. Huby, "Kant or Cantor? That the Universe, if Real, Must be Finite in Both Space and Time," Philosophy 46 (1971), 121-23.

6 R. C. Swinburne, Space and Time (London: Macmillan, 1968).

7 TTS 10-11. Also see A. N. Prior, Papers on Time and Tense (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1948), p. 111.

8 Julian Wolfe, "Infinite Regress and the Cosmological Argument, International Journal for Philosophy of Religion 2 (1971), 246-49.

9 William P. Alston, "Hartshorne and Aquinas: A Via Media," presented November 4, 1981, at The University of Chicago’s conference in honor of Charles Hartshorne.

The Process Perspective as Context for Educational Evaluation

(Originally presented at the meeting of the Association for Process Philosophy of Education in Chicago, April 1989)

This symposium, like its title, has two parts. That title is: "Educational Evaluation in Process Perspective." It is my task to focus on the second half of the title, on the character of that process perspective which our other panelists will then work away from as they bear down on the issue of educational evaluation. I have been asked to highlight the theory of value that emerges from the process perspective, and while I will certainly do that, I will begin my paper by standing back from the specific topic of the nature of value and speaking to the prior question, why Whitehead? Why is his process philosophy so important that a group would organize as we have here to explore the implications of the Whiteheadian orientation for educational evaluation? It will turn out that this introductory reflection will also serve to direct our steps as we enter into the process perspective in order to grasp the understanding of value which it embodies.

As I entertain it, the process perspective involves a certain reading of the high points in the history of philosophy. In spite of Whitehead’s well-known quip in Process and Reality that "The safest general characterization of the European philosophical tradition is that it consists of a series of footnotes to Plato," my Whiteheadian reading of the history of thought begins with Aristotle. The achievement of Aristotle which bears essentially upon my understanding of the importance of Whitehead is the incredibly subtle and suggestive manner in which Aristotle succeeds in doing justice to human being as a part of nature. In Aristotle’s magnificent system, the same categories that organize nature for our understanding also serve to provide our understanding of human nature. Now there are a number of important footnotes to Aristotle, but I simply wish to draw attention to the point of culmination of the tradition, that period bridging the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries that saw the production of the grand synthesis of the Angelic Doctor, Saint Thomas Aquinas, as well as its poetic embodiment in The Divine Comedy of Dante. Here human nature was at home in the world for one last glorious moment, and then it was all over -- the point of culmination was the eve of disintegration.

The Copernican Revolution, the new science, wiped away the old science, and in wiping it away took with it the conceptuality which had bound together the account of nature and the account of human nature. The Aristotelian categories had simultaneously achieved three things: they had done justice to nature, they had done justice to human nature, and most importantly they had done justice to human being as a part of nature. The brilliant work of Copernicus, Galileo, Kepler, Newton, and many others radically transformed the Aristotelian outlook in such a way that the earlier synthesis of human nature within nature totally broke down. Galileo’s rethinking of the idea of motion, his idea that motion was a natural state for matter, did wonders for the attempt to understand acceleration and the behavior of projectiles, but it certainly raised hob with the Aristotelian account of events in the heavens. If motion is viewed as a natural state, then there is no need for an Unmoved Mover to keep the whole heavenly system turning, and no need for spirits or intelligences to strive after the perfection of the Unmoved Mover. If telescopes make it clear that heavenly bodies are not perfectly spherical and furthermore reveal moons rotating around a planet, then the old notion of the æther, a refined fifth element admitting only the potentiality for perfect circular motion on the part of perfectly spherical bodies, no longer has a role to play. Heavenly bodies suddenly seem remarkably like lumps of clay, and the laws of motion and gravitation articulated to make intelligible the motion of matter here on earth are found to apply most suitably to the motion of matter in the heavens. Gone with the Unmoved Mover and the intelligences is the need for final causation as a scientific concept, and with the departure of all these Aristotelian notions, gone, too, is the ability to grasp human being as a part of nature -- gone is the ability to do justice to human being in terms of those concepts used to explain the world about us.

The challenge to the human intellect from the seventeenth century onward has been the challenge of completing the Copernican Revolution. What would it be to complete the Copernican Revolution? It would be to do for the modern era what Aristotle succeeded in doing for an earlier age -- it would be to find a way, given the modern world’s understanding of nature, to do justice to human being as a part of nature so understood. Thomas Hobbes was a seventeenth-century thinker who saw the problem clearly. During his several long enforced vacations on the continent, Hobbes the political refugee learned a great deal about the emerging new science. Right at the beginning, Hobbes made a valiant effort to complete the Copernican Revolution. He understood the notions about the world which the new science gave him to work with, and he understood that to complete the revolution he would have to paint a picture of human being using the notions about the world available to him from within the vocabulary of the new science. The first hundred and fifty or so pages of his Leviathan show forth his attempt to paint that portrait of human being, but by almost universal agreement, he failed -- that is, he could not both present human being as a part of the new nature and at the same time do justice to our direct experience of what it is to be human. Throughout the centuries, others have attempted to carry out Hobbes’s project; the attempt to understand the human mind in terms of the structure and functions of computers is but one of the more recent strategies for completing the Copernican Revolution along the lines charted by Hobbes.

Blaise Pascal, brilliant French mathematician, philosopher, and contemporary of Hobbes, saw the modern problem as clearly as did the Englishman. Pascal the scientist experienced a profound disquiet when he encountered from inside science the unmistakably precarious status that the new science thrust upon the human beings clustered inside nature’s blind, mechanical workings. Pascal sounds like the original homeless person when he poignantly says: "The eternal silence of these infinite spaces terrifies me. I tremble." Pascal longed to build a home for human beings in the world he inherited, he burned "with desire to find solid ground and an ultimate sure foundation whereon to build a tower reaching to the Infinite" -- that is, to construct a poem like that of Dante which would locate human being in the new scheme of things. But when he tries, his "whole groundwork cracks, and the earth opens to abysses." Pascal is left split between l’esprit de geometrie and l‘esprit de finesse, between the scientific mind and the intuitive mind, and they remain in an absolute disjunction. In our century existentialist thinkers like Camus and Sartre loudly, shockingly, and dramatically remind us that, as Pascal experienced with such anguish, human kind is not at home in the nature of Galileo, Kepler, and Newton. With a certain glee the existentialists turn their back on science, on l‘esprit de geometrie, and letting the chips fall where they may as far as the scientific enterprise is concerned, they work to articulate the structures of human being, to do justice to human being. But with them there is no question of doing justice to human being as a part of nature -- as Heidegger articulates the point, from their perspective human beings are "thrown" into an alien world. They do a profoundly important job of exploring human being, but they do not complete the Copernican Revolution by showing how human being so revealed is as one with that world that begets and nourishes it.

The third and final seventeenth-century figure whom we need to mention as we set up our understanding of the Whiteheadian enterprise is, of course, Descartes. Descartes, saddled with a conception of nature that he perceived as inadequate for the inclusion of mind, opted for the dualistic doctrine that has set the agenda for most subsequent philosophizing. His doctrine of two separate substances, extended matter and thinking mind, each sort of substance requiring, with God bracketed out of the picture, nothing other than itself in order to exist, rather unceremoniously threw mind, that is, distinctively human being, out of nature and left philosophy with the hopeless task of trying to figure out how a mind outside of nature, a mind not of nature, could ever really come to know nature. The image which is currently popular as a way of expressing this excluded-from-the-world-of-nature status of mind is the image of a mirror; as something outside nature mind could only be related externally to nature as a mirror is related to the objects which it reflects. As a consequence, epistemology, theory of knowledge, the attempt to show how an excluded mind is related to the nature from which it is excluded, has dominated philosophy since the time of Descartes. It is a popular stance in some quarters of the philosophical community right now to identify philosophy with this epistemological quest, to then opine that the last three hundred years of epistemological puzzlement has finally shown that the philosophical task so conceived can never be completed, and to conclude that we have consequently arrived at the end of philosophy.

The very first sentence of Whitehead’s major philosophical work, Process and Reality, shows clearly that Whitehead presupposed a situation such as I have just described. He there writes: "These lectures are based upon a recurrence to that phase of philosophic thought which began with Descartes and ended with Hume." Whether one thinks that this particular phase of thought ended with Hume, with Santayana, or with Sellars, Quine, and Davidson is of little matter. The main point is that Whitehead sees himself as writing at the end, not of philosophy, but, as he says, of a phase of philosophy. His strategy, which he refers to as a "recurrence" to this phase of philosophic thought, is to back up to the point where he is sitting there cheek to jowl with Descartes, and then to start all over again, this time avoiding the hopeless dualism which has kept Descartes, and the whole tradition which constitutes the phase of thought in question, from completing the Copernican Revolution.

Whitehead can start over, not because he is smarter than Descartes, but because the notion of nature we now have in the twentieth century is very different from the notion of nature which confronted Descartes. In Descartes’ day, nature was held to be composed of inert stuff with force viewed as something external to that stuff, something mechanically applied to dead bits of matter from the outside. The scientific revolution of the twentieth century has totally revamped the notion of the matter which constitutes nature -- matter is now viewed as internally dynamic, suffused with energy, this being the relation between matter and energy so vividly apparent when an atom bomb goes off. The overarching strategy of Whitehead’s most popular book, Science and the Modern World, is first to argue that modern philosophy has been based on a conceptuality derived from seventeenth-century science, oblivious to the fact that the subtle shifts in science over the last three centuries have gradually undermined the foundations of that conceptuality, and then to demonstrate that since our modern scientific notions will no longer support the seventeenth-century philosophical conceptions, we need a new philosophical conceptuality.

Science and the Modern World showed that the developments in science require corresponding developments in philosophy; Process and Reality is Whitehead’s effort to provide us with such a reconstruction in philosophy, which is what he means when he says he must start with a "recurrence to that phase of philosophic thought which began with Descartes" -- he means that that mode of philosophic thought must be replaced!

Now we have before us the background which will let us grasp the significance of the way that Whitehead approaches the notion of value. Whitehead is trying to complete the Copernican Revolution; he is trying to construct a conceptuality which is firmly rooted in the developments of modern science, which at the same time will enable him to do justice to human beings, and yet will enable him to exhibit that human being as rooted in nature.

There are two conditions that any such conceptual scheme must meet if it is going to be adequate to the task of doing justice to human being as a part of nature. Whitehead himself spells out the first condition very clearly: he writes, "One task of a sound metaphysics is to exhibit final and efficient causes in their proper relation to each other" (PR 84). A contemporary philosophy cannot, of course, deal with final causation in the same way Aristotle did. But deal with it we must. Somewhere Whitehead comments wryly on thinkers motivated by the purpose of showing that there is no purpose! Such an approach is absurd; all of us who came to this symposium with the end in mind of learning something about Whitehead and something about educational evaluation are proof of that. The second condition is equally fundamental. Any adequate metaphysics must overcome the fact/value bifurcation. If value is once separated from fact, the two will never again be joined. Whitehead emphasizes this point in a frequently quoted sentence: " ‘Value’ is the word I use for the intrinsic reality of an event" (SMW 93). If we pursue the significance of these two conditions, i.e., the marriage of final and efficient causation and the marriage of fact and value, we will learn a good bit about Whitehead’s theory of value at the same time that we acquire some sense of just how Whitehead goes about the task of completing the Copernican Revolution.

The vehicle in terms of which Whitehead reconciles both final and efficient causation and fact and value is the concept of an actual entity, or actual occasion. Whitehead’s metaphysics is atomistic and it is monistic. "Actual entity" is the name he gives to his atoms, and actual entities are all that there is -- everything that is is either an actual entity, a component of actual entities, or a collection of actual entities, called a nexus, or a society. An actual entity is very small, microcosmic; the things we encounter in the world about us, and indeed we ourselves as human beings, are societies of actual entities, and indeed societies of societies of societies of actual entities.

Aristotle described human being as a layered hierarchy of informed matter, the elements fusing together under the impress of a higher-level form to compose tissues, tissues serving as the proximate matter for a yet more complex organizing form at the level of organs, and organs bound into the active, dynamic organism by the yet higher form of soul. Whitehead’s vision of human being possesses certain similarities to that of Aristotle. The building block electronic and protonic actual occasions are, in the case of human beings, swept into vastly more complex, Chinese box-like sets of containing societies within which there are social levels that can be identified with cells, others which answer to Aristotle’s levels of tissues and organs, and which finally are presided over by what Whitehead refers to as the regnant nexus, a social thread of complex temporal inheritance which, Whitehead suggests, wanders from part to part of the brain, is the seat of conscious direction of the organism as a whole, and answers to what in Plato and Aristotle is called the soul. But this is no dualism -- the regnant nexus is made up of actual entities just like every other nexus or society. A fundamental difference from Aristotle, though, is that each actual entity is very short as well as very small; each actual entity is a process of becoming whose completion is its perishing. Aristotle’s philosophy is built upon substances which endure through time; Whitehead’s philosophy is built upon perishing, nonenduring actual entities so that it is only societies which have temporal stretch, not actual entities.

Do we ever encounter single, particular actual entities in our experience? Certainly not in our experience of the world around us. But it is central to the plausibility of Whitehead’s philosophy that we do have one unfailing source of direct contact with individual actual entities. That source is memory. As the memory of my immediate past bears in on me, I encounter it as given and face the necessity of absorbing it into the unit of experience, that is, the actual occasion, which is my immediate subjective awareness. That past bearing in upon me is my direct, immediate, unmediated encounter with a unique individual actual entity, namely, myself as I was an instant ago. This is the sort of experience Whitehead is referring to when he writes: "In describing the capacities, realized or unrealized, of an actual occasion, we have, with Locke, tacitly taken human experience as an example upon which to found the generalized description required for metaphysics" (PR 112).

Founding the generalized description upon human experience requires that we make an imaginative descent of the scale of organic being. Starting with full rich human experience, imagine what it is that is lost when we descend to the level of apes, then rabbits, then beetles, then amoebae, then viruses. Descending the scale of organic being is an exercise during which we peel off layer after layer of human "capacities," during which we watch the distinctively human fade from realization into irrelevance. What seems doggedly to persist is a taking into account of factors in the environment -- the amoeba has pseudopodia constantly reaching out to, constantly testing, the environment. Whitehead’s strategy is a classic example of philosophizing in the shadow of the theory of evolution. Darwinian evolution, augmented by contemporary biochemical dating of genetic development, assures us that the organic domain arose out of the primordial ooze that constituted the state of the inorganic billions of years ago. Whitehead is giving an account of the most primitive type of "taking account of," the kind exemplified in iron filings and the movement of the tides. The trick is to describe the simplest actual entities, the generic actual occasions, so that (a) the laws of physics are an exemplification of their primitive form of "taking into account," and yet (b) in their stark simplicity they contain the potentiality of the sort of progressive complexification which corresponds to the increasingly sophisticated forms of "taking into account" which we find as we ascend back up the scale of organic being, as we trace the upward path of evolution. This is the strategy which puts "mind" back into nature, which leads to a metaphysics which does justice to human being as a part of nature!

But now to the generic structures of all actual entities. Every actual entity has a conformal phase and a responsive, or supplemental phase. Its conformal phase is its moment of appropriating the past, its moment of taking the past into account -- in Whitehead’s language, its moment of prehending its past. This conformal phase is the moment of efficient causation. The past is given; it is a brute fact that cannot be ignored, but must be taken into account. The past impinges on the present. The responsive, or supplemental, phase is the phase of subjective reaction to that which is given, it is the manner in which the past is appropriated. In primitive actual entities this response is absolutely minimal -- in Whitehead’s words, "So far as we can see, inorganic entities are vehicles for receiving, for storing in a napkin, and for restoring without loss or gain" (PR 177). But in more sophisticated actual entities, in entities higher up the scale of organic being which inherit positively a richer and more variegated set of data from the past, the responsive, supplemental phase is a process of sorting out the data, modifying and reorganizing it to arrive at a complex unity of subjective feeling. This sorting, modifying, and reorganizing is goal-directed activity carried out under the aegis of an aim of arriving at an intensity and quality of feeling which will be maximal given that past and the real potentialities available to that particular actual entity. This reactive moment of response is the moment of final causation. The conformal phase and efficient causation plus the responsive phase and final causation -- in working out the account of how these phases are integrated in the process of becoming, called concrescence, of each actual occasion, Whitehead is carrying out what he designated as a task for a sound metaphysics, namely, exhibiting "final and efficient causes in their proper relation to each other" (PR 84).

And here we are, finally, face to face with Whitehead’s account of value. Value, as the intrinsic reality of an event, as the intrinsic reality of an actual entity, is just the character of that feeling which wraps up the actual entity in what Whitehead calls its satisfaction, or completion. In its very nature an actual entity strives, in its responsive phase, toward that integration of the elements present in its experience which will result in the richest, that is, most valuable, feeling of satisfaction. The value is the character of that particular feeling.

I may bring together the elements of a particular experience so that I feel them in anger. The anger is a form of definiteness which I allow to characterize my experience; it is what Whitehead calls an eternal object. I can be angry in many different circumstances, you can be angry, a mob can be angry -- anger is a potentiality for making experience definite and occurs in many different contexts. Anger as an eternal object is not a value; it is this particular instance of anger as characterizing this particular unit of feeling which is a value. For Whitehead value is not something which exists off in a Platonic heaven, off in a realm of form. Rather, in a more Aristotelian mode, value is something right here in this world of becoming -- it is, as he says, the intrinsic reality of an event, which is how that event or entity concretely feels or experiences.

Every actual entity is a struggle toward value, a process of concrescence that culminates in the satisfaction of feeling felt as a value. As Whitehead says, "An intense experience is an aesthetic fact, and its categoreal conditions are to be generalized from aesthetic laws in particular arts" (PR 279). An experience, like a painting, strives after a perfection that Whitehead characterizes as a perfection of harmony, which he further describes as the due coordination of chaos, vagueness, narrowness, width, and depth (PR 112). In Adventures of Ideas Whitehead offers another description of harmony: perfection of harmony is defined in terms of perfection of the subjective form of the satisfaction of an actual entity; and perfection of subjective form is defined in terms of strength, which has two components, massiveness and intensity (AI 253). In Adventures of Ideas Whitehead tends to refer to harmony as Beauty, the "mutual adaptation of the several factors in an occasion of experience" (AI 252). In summary, the universe in its very essence, at the heart of the actual entities which compose it, is a striving after harmony, after Beauty, after value.

A corollary of all this that is crucial for Whitehead’s reflections on education is the idea that a life led on the level of human existence that is mere dull repetition of value realized in earlier experience is less than fully human. His two favorite words in this context are "zest" and "adventure." Apart from creative novelty and its associated zest, risk, adventure, and beauty, life sinks into hopelessly boring monotony. The very nature of being, present in each and every actual entity, is the struggle after value – "Aesthetic attainment is interwoven in the texture of realization" (SMW 94). Or again: ". . . while the harmony of logic lies upon the universe as an iron necessity, the aesthetic harmony stands before it as a living ideal molding the general flux in its broken progress toward finer, subtler issues" (SMW 18).

There is a sentence in The Aims of Education which deposits these ideas directly on the doorstep of education. Whitehead writes: "The justification for a university is that it preserves the connection between knowledge and the zest of life, by uniting the young and the old in the imaginative consideration of learning" (AE 93). Without the generation of value in the mode of zest and adventure, education will fail. And it will fail because of what we are, it will fail because the deepest structures of our being demand, as an integral part of their satisfaction, the realization of the intensity and harmony of feeling which is realized value. Whitehead’s well-known notion of the Stage of Romance in education gets its power from the fundamental aesthetic need of the human organism for novelty and zest in experience. Each of the "minor cycles which form eddies in the great romance" (AE 22) must begin with wonder, with curiosity, with the vision of exciting possibilities for new syntheses of feeling.

But each Stage of Romance must give way to the appropriate Stage of Precision precisely because the range of value feeling open to each actual entity is a function of the way that its past experience is ordered and structured. Without order in the background from which it inherits, an actual entity cannot, in its responsive, supplemental phase, hope to attain to that depth and richness of value to which it aspires. So the Stage of Romance gives way to the Precision necessary to create the generalized understanding (Whitehead’s Stage of Generalization) that will permit the satisfaction of the prior romantic longing to tame the new, the unexplored, the inviting.

When Whitehead looks at education as it in fact occurs, he sees far too much dull precision in domains that are isolated from one another, domains that are not brought together in that sort of unity that would produce a satisfying vision of the harmonious connectedness of things. Each actual entity that is a component in the history of a human being has a conformal phase and a responsive phase. Education must insure that the drive for richness of attainment in the responsive phase never dies out, and that the order and structure of the inheritance in the conformal phase is solid enough to reward and renew the zest for ever expanding adventures.

These considerations led Whitehead to suggest that a fundamental weakness in modern education is its failure to exploit the value for education of exposure to the arts. I think he is dead right; this insight is as valid for the 1980s as it was for the 1920s.

I will complete my remarks by reading an extended passage from Whitehead which presupposes the technical matters I have tried to clarify and which gives something of the flavor of what Whitehead himself might have wanted to contribute to a symposium on evaluating education.

The ultimate motive power, alike in science, in morality, and in religion, is the sense of value, the sense of importance. It takes the various forms of wonder, of curiosity, of reverence, or worship, of tumultuous desire for merging personality in something beyond itself. This sense of value imposes on life incredible labors, and apart from it life sinks back into the passivity of its lower types. The most penetrating exhibition of this force is the sense of beauty, the aesthetic sense of realized perfection. This thought leads me to ask, whether in our modern education we emphasize sufficiently the functions of art. . . . You cannot, without loss, ignore in the life of the spirit so great a factor as art. Our aesthetic emotions provide us with vivid apprehensions of value. If you maim these, you weaken the force of the whole system of spiritual apprehensions. (AE 40.)

Decentering Whitehead

The subtitle of this special issue of Process Studies, "Process Thought in a New Key," derived as it was from Susanne Langer’s elegant title Philosophy in a New Key, turned out to have a commemorative significance that was not originally in the minds of those who heartily applauded George Lucas’ selection, in 1984, of that way of expressing the raison d’être for this collection of essays. It was in the summer of 1985, when most of us I suspect were putting our contributions in order, that Professor Langer passed away. Her crowning achievement, Mind: An Essay on Human Feeling, is paradigmatic of the "Post-Whiteheadian" philosophizing this volume celebrates, and it is most appropriate that her spirit, as well as her title, hover over these explorations of "Philosophy After Whitehead."

Each of us will be suggesting a new direction or orientation for process philosophy. The musical metaphor behind Langer’s expression "New Key" is a perfect vehicle for me to use in giving an orienting account of my own relationship to Whitehead’s thought. One can use the expressions "Philosophy After Whitehead" or "Post-Whiteheadian philosophizing" to characterize the relationship of the work of some philosophers to the categoreal insights presented in Process and Reality, but in my own case I feel that these expressions connote a looser relationship than that which characterizes my own orientation. My sense of my own place in the Post-Whiteheadian landscape is that I am closer in many respects to Whitehead’s own categories than are many contemporary process thinkers. But just as in music relatively few modifications can transform a scale in a major mode to the same scale in a minor mode, so in my case one substantial modulation produces a process metaphysics in quite a new key. Perhaps the most graphic way of describing the key shift I have made is to say that I have moved from a centered process perspective to a decentered process perspective.

In Whitehead’s vision of process metaphysics there is an overarching center, a center of value, meaning, and order in the universe -- God. In my vision of process metaphysics there is no one overarching center, no overarching center of value, meaning, and order. Rather, there is a vast plurality of entities each of which is a center of value, meaning, and order. In Whitehead’s vision there is one overarching entity that prehends every other entity that has concresced; in my vision there is only the plurality of actual occasions, each with a limited perspective. My process orientation is toward a Whitehead decentered, toward a Whitehead without God, toward a neo-Whiteheadian naturalism -- a process thought in quite a new key.

Interestingly, I think, my decentered process metaphysics nevertheless has a strong religious thrust to it, in precisely Whitehead’s sense of "religious." In Whitehead’s view there is a sharp conceptual distinction between being religious and being atheist. As Whitehead says in Religion in the Making, the basic religious intuition is the insight that there is a "character of permanent rightness" that permeates the nature of things; as he notes, however, "There is a large concurrence in the negative doctrine that this religious experience does not include any direct intuition of a definite person, or individual" (Ch. II, Sect. II). The challenge is to ground the intuition of a character of permanent rightness in the general categories one uses for an understanding of reality, i.e., so to relate the intuition to the structures of the real that its integration into those structures validates the intuition while giving it specific content.

Whitehead’s own personal answer to this challenge is to postulate the existence of a very special entity, a nontemporal actual entity, which he calls God and which he provides with a number of very special cosmological roles, such as prehending every other actual entity and being the source of subjective aim for every other actual entity. These roles have the effect of making Whitehead’s God the center of meaning, order, and value in the Whiteheadian universe. In contrast, my answer to the challenge is to point to the categoreal conditions governing the concrescence of each and every ordinary actual entity. Each and every actual entity is a concrescence of given elements under the aegis of an aesthetic impulse toward order, meaning, and value, i.e., toward the emergence of Beauty. This aesthetic impulse is the very heart of the becoming which is each temporal actual entity; emphasizing this characteristic of Whitehead’s conceptual scheme is not to introduce anything new. In my vision, the fact that each actual entity, in its very nature, embodies an aesthetic impulse toward order, meaning, and value is sufficient in itself to ground the religious intuition of a character of permanent rightness permeating the nature of things. But my vision is of a decentered process philosophy -- order, value, and meaning permeate the whole of reality, but often at only minimal, trivial levels. There emerge, however, from the "periphery" (so to speak) rather than from the center, pockets of order, meaning, and value which grow, spread, and die -- that order, those values, and those meanings which gradually grew and spread until they constituted the various Kingdoms of Ancient Egypt would be an example of how order, value, and meaning emerge from the "bottom" and spread "upward" and "outwards" into dynamic pockets or aggregates of order, meaning, and value which prosper-overcoming and absorbing other pockets of order -- until they no longer embody the imagination, vigor, and zest required for continued vitality and find themselves absorbed into other competing orders or gradually disintegrating into the silence of a Dark Age. But even though particular orders falter and decay, the primordial, all-pervasive thrust toward aesthetic achievement which permeates reality is never lost; beauty, as well as hope, "springs eternal in the universal breast" (to paraphrase a line from Alexander Pope), giving the religious intuition its permanent grounding in the very nature of things.

The question I wish to raise in this paper is whether there are good reasons for preferring my decentered version of process philosophy over Whitehead’s centered version. Such reasons could be of two types. In the first instance there could be reasons of a rational logical sort, reasons which challenge the coherence of the concept of God as that concept lies among the other concepts central to Whitehead’s speculative scheme. I have already raised the issue of the coherence of the concept God in process metaphysics in a number of articles, so I shall not go over that ground again here. I will turn, rather, to the second sort of reasons, reasons which rest on an empirical examination of experience and the world, reasons which test the adequacy of the implications of each of the two versions of process metaphysics -- the centered and the decentered -- to our world as we experience it. This sort of empirical testing is very tricky indeed, which undoubtedly explains why so little work has been done in just this area. Even the classic essay by Daniel Day Williams, titled "How Does God Act?: An Essay in Whitehead’s Metaphysics," does not bring the Whiteheadian account of deity into direct contact with particular, concrete historical or individual experience.1 Williams affirms that the specific metaphysical functions ascribed to God by Whitehead "involve the assertion that God makes a specific and observable difference in the behavior of things" (page 178) and goes on to remark that "Verification [of God’s specific causality] must take the form of observable results in cosmic history, in human history, and in personal experience" (page 179). But Williams does not give us examples, he merely ends his essay by cautioning (quite rightly) that "to assign any particular historical event to God’s specific action in the world" is a very risky business, though "Faith leads us to take that risk" (page 180). In this essay I want to begin the empirical examination toward which Williams’ essay points.

* * * * * * *

In this comparison of Whitehead’s centered vision (with God) and my own decentered vision (without God), I will start with a brief recapitulation of Whitehead’s account of how God functions in the world. In Whitehead’s centered universe, God affects the world by providing each emerging actual occasion with its subjective aim. What exactly is a subjective aim? As we learn in the last chapter of Process and Reality, God prehends a given generation of actual entities, absorbs those entities into his consequent nature, "weaves" the resulting consequent nature "upon his primordial concepts," and from the resulting contrast discovers those possibilities for the next generation of actual entities which, were they to be actualized in that next generation, would be the best in the sense that when God came to absorb that generation into his consequent nature his experience would be the richest possible. God then proceeds to offer each emerging actual entity of that next generation that program for its own becoming which, if accepted and realized, would lead it to make the maximal contribution to the best new generation of actual entities possible given the limitations of the actual world from which it arises. That proffered program is the emerging occasion s subjective aim.

With this rather abstract description before us, we will consider a concrete example of how the divine subjective aim might be thought of as working in particular circumstances. God is conceived of as omnipotent in the sense that he knows everything that can be known. That means that he prehends all finished facts as they become finished. Certain structures of finished fact will determine aspects of the future, so God will know certain things about the future; if a grand piano has just fallen off the top of the Empire State Building, God -- along with any person who has seen the piano slide over the railing -- knows that in just a very few seconds the piano will smash into the sidewalk below. But when we speak of the future, we, as Whiteheadians, are convinced that there are aspects of the future that even God cannot know, for in addition to finished features of the future, there are also as yet unfinished features of the future which we can refer to as finishable fact. So as the piano teeters over the edge, a young woman taking a stroll on lunch break approaches the spot where the piano will strike the pavement. Will she be hit? We do not know yet, nor does God. She is window shopping. Something she does not see clearly at first glance in a window catches her eye as she passes. Will she decide to stop and step back, or will she decide to go on? Will the man right behind her, who has just glanced up and seen the piano hurtling down, have the collected presence of mind and the courage to grab the woman and shove her out of danger, or will he choose just to save himself, avoiding some extra risk? And where does God and subjective aim fit into all this?

God certainly cannot be neutral in terms of how he would like to have events in this situation work themselves out. The woman has two small children at home, a doting husband, and aged parents for whom she lights up the world. As God prehends the universe at the instant the piano teeters, he sees the various possible ways this little drama could be played out, sees all the ramifications of the possible scenarios, and realizes that some ways the action might unfold are better than others, that is, some outcomes would produce a future which when he, God, prehended it would make his experience more rich, more harmonious, more beautiful than his experience would be were alternative outcomes to produce quite different futures. Now it is exactly in situations like this -- according to the standard account of orthodox Whiteheadians -- that God is supposed to lure the world, by means of what he proffers to actual occasions via subjective aims, toward that falling out of events which will make his future experience most positive. In this situation how could we give meaningful content to the idea that God extends subjective aims to the various actors in the little drama we have constructed, that is, provides subjective aims which have the potential, at least, to affect the outcome of events, and have, therefore, the potential to affect the character of God’s future experience?

My answer to this question is that I find it impossible to give meaningful content to the idea of a subjective aim derived from God which will function in the specified way. Let us ask ourselves how God could become an actor in this situation in such a way as to affect the outcome. If we turn our attention to the piano, I think we get nowhere. The idea of a swerve in the downward path of the piano makes no sense in the context of Whitehead’s metaphysics. It makes no sense because the very primitive actual occasions constitutive of the piano and of its immediate physical environment have a capacity for novel adjustment of feeling which is virtually nil, which is, for all practical purposes, nil.

In order to explicate this last point it is necessary to interrupt the unfolding drama and introduce a general principle. The principle is that in regard to the presentation of subjective aims, God has to "speak" to each actual occasion in its own "language," that is, at its own level, in a manner harmonious with the character of the sort of data which are in general operative in the aesthetic synthesis which is the concrescence of the actual occasion in question. It makes no sense in a Whiteheadian context to suggest that God could proffer subjective aims such that, were they heeded, the piano would swerve out of its path in order to avoid pedestrians below. The contrasts that would have to be positively prehended in order to bring about such macro adjustments are far, far beyond the ken of piano occasions. Those Whiteheadians who, like Charles Hartshorne, give God a role in the unfolding of the universe, see God’s role at this level as the role of holding in check a tendency toward miniscule deviations from past order, a tendency which crops up in primitive occasions. By holding this tendency toward miniscule deviations in check, God is, Hartshorne would maintain, preserving the uniformity of the laws of nature. (But, it is worth noting, this is a role for God that would seem to conflict with Whitehead’s claim that the laws of nature evolve, for if God were really effective in checking such miniscule deviations, then it is difficult to see how the laws of nature could ever evolve.)

I would just point out in passing that the analysis so far would suggest that the ordinary, garden-variety notion of a miracle does not seem to have any meaning in the context of a theological version of process thought. Such a miracle would involve the suspension of the laws of nature at the level of primitive actual occasions, but if we accept the principle that God "speaks" to a given actual occasion in its own "language," and if the "language" of primitive actual occasions in nature is such that the character of the data available for aesthetic synthesis in the concrescence of such occasions admits only of absolutely miniscule contrasts with the givenness of the character of the past, then God has no leverage via subjective aims to introduce shifts in the social structures conditioning the possibilities available for aesthetic synthesis in the concrescences of such primitive actual occasions. Such actual occasions are, as Whitehead says at PR 269/ 177, "vehicles for receiving, for storing in a napkin, and for restoring without loss or gain." We can safely conclude that if God is going to affect our unfolding drama at the foot of the Empire State Building by means of proffered subjective aims, he will not do so as a result of subjective aims extended to occasions in the falling piano.

Let us move now to consider options for understanding how God might exert influence at the other end of the spectrum of actual occasions, namely, by proffering subject aims to those actual occasions that constitute moments in the regnant nexus of the human beings involved. My conclusion here will be that if there were a God and if he were viewed as having the power to influence events at this level at all, then we would have to conclude that the world ought to be a very different place than it in fact is. I will try to show how this is so.

What is the cash value of the claim that God provides subjective aims to the initial phases of actual entities of the sophisticated sort found in the regnant nexus of human beings? Here we are dealing with actual entities that synthesize a vast range of materials in their concrescences, that entertain data that have gone through the transforming synthesis brought about by transmutations introduced along the routes of inheritance flowing through the complex bodily systems which support these sophisticated regnant occasions. If God is going to "speak" to such occasions, our general principle about God’s "speaking" suggests that he must address them in the "language" of their experiences. How, given the Whiteheadian account of subjective aims adumbrated above, would God operate in the context of our little drama playing itself out at the foot of the Empire State Building?

God is conceived of as having prehended all the past occasions in the universe at the time the piano is sliding over the railing. He weaves that complex portrait of matters of fact onto his primordial conceptual grasp of pure possibility. The resulting contrasts reveal to him the various real possibilities for this unfolding situation. In all those possible worlds which might result, the piano will fall to the sidewalk -- there is no possibility of a swerve, as we have seen, and there is no awning or abutment on the building strong enough or wide enough to impede its fall. But what about the young woman on her lunch break? Human beings are free agents. Human beings constantly face choices between two or more genuine possibilities in the Whiteheadian universe -- William James may walk home by way of Divinity Avenue or by way of Oxford Street. The Whiteheadian universe is not a block universe; there is free play at those joints in the universe where higher level organisms make choices as between or among alternatives. Were the young woman warned of the hurtling projectile above her, there would be no violation of natural laws were she to step back rather than forward. The question is, how can we make it intelligible to say that the young woman is warned of the hurtling projectile, and warned by God? If the man behind her sees the falling piano and shouts to warn her, we understand that. His shout is part of her experience of her past world, and her action of jumping back is her free, calculated way of responding to her prehension of her past. The hybrid physical feeling of God, which is (on the traditional Whiteheadian account) the subjective aim for any particular occasion of the young woman s experience, is also a prehension of the past from which she inherits -- it is, after all, a physical feeling. What is the character of the content of this hybrid physical feeling of God?

In the first instance one could suggest that God is the agent who passes on to the woman dimensions of her past, relevant to her future, of which she is not aware from any other source. In this case one would be saying that God acts in the world by revealing to an agent things about the past world of the agent of which he or she is unaware, but which may have an impact on the agent’s future. This is an interpretation of the Whiteheadian scheme which has quite unacceptable consequences, but it may also turn out to be the only meaningful interpretation of the scheme in the sense that it is the only interpretation in any way distinguishable from the situation that would obtain if there were no God. This is in fact the dilemma I wish to push upon theistic Whiteheadians.

If God does reveal "new" information via subjective aims, then one can clearly see how God could orchestrate the unfolding process of the universe so that there would be an enhanced chance that his own experience in the future would be at, or near, the maximum achievable. If the young woman on lunch break is not killed by the falling piano, then she will continue to provide joy to her children, husband, and parents, with the further result that that joy will also be experienced by God in his unfolding consequent nature. Fine. But here is the rub. Is a God who acts on the world in this way compatible with a world that runs in the way our world runs? I think not, and will lay out some considerations that move me to this conclusion.

If our world were a centered universe, a universe with an all-seeing (i.e., all-prehending) God with the ability to introduce, on his own, new information pertaining to the past into the experience of emerging actual occasions by means of their subjective aims, then our world would be a much more harmoniously ordered world than it in fact is. People driving cars around corners at high speeds only to find locomotives bearing down on unguarded railroad crossings would be warned of how events were unfolding and be saved. Captains piloting vessels like the Titanic would be warned when icebergs invaded sea lanes. Women about to walk under falling pianos would jump back. Jean Paul Sartre’s character Pablo Ibbieta, in the short story "The Wall," would have no dramatic impact, and the story would never have been written, because persons in Ibbieta’s position would invariably have learned from God that the Ramon Grises of this world had moved back to whatever was the analogue for them of the gravedigger s shack. But this is ridiculous. Sartre’s "The Wall" was written, and it was written precisely because our world is filled with the "absurdity" which Sartre and Camus trumpet to the rooftops, with the result that we find our world, and our experience in it, reflected back to us in such existentialist literature. No, the suggestion that God works in the world by introducing through subjective aims new information about the past world not otherwise available to temporal beings just will not wash -- all of us know of too many counterexamples to this way of conceiving of God’s way of acting in the world. Is there, then, any plausible alternative account?

There is one initial move that might be made in an effort to save the view that God introduces information to a subject which is not available from any other source. One could point out, quite accurately, that Whitehead talks about God and the world in such a way that it is very clear that while God proffers a subjective aim which, if accepted, would result in the greatest good possible under the circumstances, actual entities sophisticated enough to entertain complex contrasts of feeling also thereby have genuine freedom of choice with the result that they are free to reject the aim proffered by God, free to turn their backs on God’s lure toward the best possible tomorrow. This point about freedom is a standard ingredient in Whiteheadian discussions of the problem of evil. Does this point bear at all upon the issue at hand?

I think not. Pianos fall on people, and locomotives crush cars at railroad crossings. To comment on such happenings by saying that God always provides the information needed to make the better outcome possible, but finite occasions willfully and freely ignore that information -- to make this claim is ridiculous. Yes, there are what we might characterize as the Willy Loman-type situations, situations where for one reason or another persons willingly and freely court disaster for what seem, to most of us, bad reasons. And, of course, there are also, most certainly, what we could characterize as the lago-type situations, where persons of evil, malicious intent, knowing fully the potential for evil, disorder, and unhappiness which a given course of action involves, still deliberately choose that course for themselves or others. But the newspapers are full of strolling women/falling piano-type incidents that just would not come to pass were God to operate in the world by providing information about the world, information not otherwise available, through the subjective aims he offers to finite actual occasions. If God did operate by providing new information, then we would indeed have a centered universe, a universe with a central purpose, with a conductor orchestrating the total flow of events, a universe with an overarching meaning.

If we abandon the thesis that God provides new information about the past of the world by means of subjective aims, is there any other possible way we could conceive of the Whiteheadian God serving as a meaningful center of the universe? My response to this question is that however we try to articulate such a conception, God turns out to be redundant, a fifth wheel, an entity without a function precisely because ordinary actual occasions are not only capable of performing the function in question, they actually do perform it. What is it, then, that God might proffer via subjective aims if it does not seem plausible that he offers otherwise unavailable information about the past of any given presently concrescing actual entity? And is this something else he might offer such that, because he offers it, we could reasonably regard God as a center of meaning and of value, a center directing, to some meaningful extent and in some meaningful manner, the unfolding of the universe?

If God cannot introduce data about the world not already available to actual entities, then there would seem to be only two sorts of things he could introduce: a sense of the possibilities relevant to the factual state of affairs known by each actual occasion, plus a feeling of the valuation he would prefer to have attached to each of the possibilities. Let us look briefly at each of these two sorts of factors.

In the case of the woman strolling beside the Empire State Building on lunch break, one might say that whereas God does not convey to her the information that there is in fact a piano falling her way, he could shoot into her consciousness via subjective aim an awareness of the possibility that a piano just might be falling her way. That sort of suggestion is preposterous and totally at odds with our lived experience. Assume that our woman on lunch break is a long-time New Yorker very savvy about the ways of the big city. At crossings she always entertains the possibility that a cab could be running the light; she is constantly aware that her high heels could get caught in a sidewalk grate; she carries her purse in a defensive mode, being quite aware of the possibility of finding herself jostled in a robbery attempt; etc., etc. Our past experience, direct and indirect, introduces us to the myriad possibilities relevant to our normal habitat -- for this we do not need God. It is precisely when we leave our normal habitat and enter a world where we are unfamiliar, directly or indirectly, with the possibilities relevant to the context that we get in trouble -- the farm boy in the big city or the city slicker who visits the farm. The farm boy gets rolled on Fifth Avenue. God does not educate him about the possibilities; he gets educated in the school of hard knocks, by experience, by the world. If God were in the business of revealing possibilities that run ahead of direct or indirect experience, the world would be a very different, more harmonious, much more manageable place than it in fact is.

But, it might be said, I have been looking at the wrong sorts of possibilities if I want to get into the arena of novelty, of creativity, the source of the genuinely new. God affects the world, not by impinging upon, not by leading worldly actors to impinge upon, unfolding chains of events as they roll out of the past. Rather, he affects the world by getting actual entities to look down the road to the future, by introducing ideals, by introducing the lure of beauty and novelty into what would otherwise be the gray, dead level, boring, uneventful, monotonous unfolding of the same, and more of the same.

Again, I think this way of trying to salvage a role in the world for the Whiteheadian God does not work. I will bring forward one example which seems to me to make my point in a very powerful way. My example is the ongoing speculation about who really did write the plays and poetry attributed to William Shakespeare. The debate lunges along taking two sorts of directions, but each direction exhibits the point I wish to make. For centuries it has been argued on the one side that someone else -- Sir X or the Earl of Y -- was the author, not just because of a possible anagram here or there, but basically because it is beyond belief that a simple country boy, relatively unschooled, would be capable of producing the Shakespeare corpus. On the other side of the fence, those who are the champions of Shakespeare make their case by arguing that Shakespeare was not so simple as had been made out, and this because his schooling, and general experience, was far more sophisticated than had been generally allowed, with the consequence that it is not at all laughable to think of the real Shakespeare as author of the corpus. Both sides in this debate argue away from the assumption that a rather rich education, and a pretty fair amount of experience in the world, would be required of anyone who might plausibly be designated author of the Shakespeare corpus. This assumption is surely sound. And this assumption points dramatically to our real-world conviction that great art, beautiful poetry, and inspiring ideals are all made right here on earth, not in heaven. No reference to God is necessary to account for the magnificence of "King Lear" -- Plato’s account of divine inspiration does not speak to our age, not only because nothing in our experience resonates to the vibration set up by Plato’s account, but also because our experience finds the Platonic account demeaning, destructive of a sense of both human responsibility and the openendedness of human achievement.

* * * * * *

If one decenters Whitehead, then one replaces a cosmos with one overarching center of direction, God, with a cluttered cosmos exhibiting a vast number of centers. In Whitehead’s own centered account, there is a unified vision of order and value directing the unfolding process. If that account were accurate, even given all sorts of willful intransigence and rebellion on the part of the multitude of particular occasions, there still ought to be a discernable thread of central direction in the unfolding of historical events. Ours, however, is an epoch that has enormous difficulty in discerning such threads -- the age of Hegel and Marx, at least on this score, is past. A decentered Whiteheadian vision suggests a world where larger and larger patterns of meaning and order emerge gradually, fitfully, and unevenly from the churning multiplicity of value centers constituted by the sophisticated occasions regnant in living organisms. I can recall reading, a long time ago, Ralph Barton Perry’s account of the emergence of more and more widely integrated networks of "interest" (in his General Theory of Value) -- a decentered process metaphysics has a good bit in common with Perry’s account, and both seem to me to be quite compatible with the actual flow of events we observe in the world around us. Order, meaning, larger values do not emanate from the top down, from THE Center, in my view; rather, they gradually emerge from the bottom up, in waves of order, meaning, and value that build in power and fan out in wider and wider circles of influence with the passing of time.

The shift in perspective I have made by decentering Whitehead forces our attention back upon the character of concrescence. From this decentered perspective there is still a thrust toward order, harmony, and intensity of experience in the world except that all this occurs as a result of the very nature of temporal concrescence. Concrescence is described by Whitehead in such a way that the passage toward satisfaction is guided by aesthetic sensitivities. The world, in its very nature, is a struggle toward aesthetic achievement, but the struggle advances with measured step and slow, from the bottom up.

It is my perception that the events unfolding in the world around us unfold in the way that one would expect were ours a decentered Whiteheadian universe. Leaving for a moment the imaginative experiment we have been considering -- the case of the plunging piano -- let us look at some actual events in our real world. I think it is clear, as a matter of fact, that there are many plunging piano scenarios in the real world. For example, the year 1985 was a terrible year for airplane disasters. In several of the worst crashes, either wind shear or metal fatigue in engines has been identified as responsible for regrettable human tragedies. If there were a Whiteheadian God, would he not have acted to save us from these tragedies? Would not God have been aware of the shear and been able to reflect that content of his consequent nature in the subjective aim he offered to the pilot? Would God not have been aware of the metal fatigue in the various engines and made that knowledge available to maintenance personnel? These suggestions strike us as ridiculous -- to view God as the cosmic air controller or cosmic metallurgist is to offer a position which is religiously repugnant. And that is the point of my argument; the standard theological version of process philosophy -- Whitehead with God -- leads me to ask such questions, leads me to wonder why such senseless, absurd disasters have plagued us at every step of our history, and this counts strongly against the centered version of process metaphysics. One would have thought that the famous, but failed, doctor’s plot against Hitler would have been the sort of thing that a Whiteheadian God would have had enormous interest in promoting, for example. One wonders with Richard Rubenstein, in his 1966 book After Auschwitz, how it is possible ever again for persons to believe in a God who is supposed to have efficacy in the way events unfold in the world.

* * * * * *

A God who is supposed to have efficacy in the way events unfold in the world -- that is the sort of deity Whitehead attempted to describe. Daniel Day Williams was clearly writing in the context of Whitehead’s intention when he titled his article "How Does God Act?" But although Williams, like other commentators with a theological orientation, does a fine job of describing the nature of the Whiteheadian God, he -- again like those other theological commentators -- does a poor job, does no job at all, in facing up to the question of whether or not our experience of the world around us provides any evidence whatsoever for the Whiteheadian account of God’s nature and God’s relationship to the world. For my part, when I look at the way events unfold in the world, I do not see any evidence there of the kind of divine activity called for by the Whiteheadian notion of God’s consequent nature weaving itself across his primordial nature and then returning the "superjective" vision back to the world in an operative, effective manner through the shaping of subjective aims.

Consequently, I am moved to modulate my process orientation into a new key, into a naturalistic key. When one begins to hum the Whiteheadian melodies in this new key, one is freed from the theological distractions which have had the effect of cluttering the process landscape and alienating many philosophers who need Whitehead’s metaphysics but have not come close enough to his system to discover what is there for them because they are put off by its theological dimension and by the way its theological dimension has been so central to the work of such a large majority of the commentators on Whiteheadiana. Today philosophy has backed away from the arrogant self-assuredness of positivistic dogmatism and is struggling to find a standpoint from which it can fend off a new attack on its very nature, an attack mounted by the new subjectivism spun off from the deconstructionist camp. Process metaphysics provides the ideal perspective from which philosophy can defend itself from this new attack. If enough of us can begin whistling our Whiteheadian tunes in the new naturalistic key, I think there is a chance that the wider philosophical community will begin to open itself to the full power of the Whiteheadian muse, naturalistically conceived.

 

Notes

1 Daniel Day Williams, "How Does Cod Act?: An Essay in Whitehead’s Metaphysics," pages 161-80 in Process and Divinity: The Hartshorne Festschrift (LaSalle: The Open Court Publishing Co., 1964), William L. Reese and Eugene Freeman, editors.

A Query Concerning the Plenum

I wish to draw attention to an important passage in Process and Reality that seems to have escaped the careful sleuthing of the editors of the Corrected Edition of Process and Reality. I refer to a discussion of the plenum summing up the extensive continuum in the ‘organic theory’ (PR 77). The much revised expanded index has a single reference under ‘plenum’ to a passing comment on Descartes (PR 238). The index under ‘extensiveness’ does not refer to the important aspect of the plenum. I do not think this passage has received due commentary. Some interesting questions can be raised.

I quote the passage in full.

In the ‘organic’ theory, (i) there is only one type of temporal actual entity; (ii) each such actual entity is extensive; (iii) from the standpoint of any one actual entity, the ‘given’ actual world is a nexus of actual entities, transforming the potentiality of the extensive scheme into a plenum of actual occasions; (iv) in this plenum, motion cannot be significantly attributed to any actual occasion; (v) the plenum is continuous in respect to the potentiality from which it arises, but each actual entity is atomic; (vi) the term ‘actual occasion’ is used synonymously with ‘actual entity’; but chiefly when its character of extensiveness has some direct relevance to the discussion, either extensiveness in the form of temporal extensiveness, that is to say ‘duration’, or extensiveness in the form of spatial extension, or in the more complete signification of spatio-temporal extensiveness. (PR 77)

First I do not think sufficient attention has been given to the unusual kind of ‘atomism’ of Whitehead’s cosmology. The entire cosmic epoch is a plenum, which means that it is absolutely chock-ful of actual entities, not a nook or cranny of ‘vacuous actuality’. In most atomic theories from Democritus on there is space (void) between the atoms. Second, any actual entity in the plenum doesn’t move while most atomic theories have atoms in motion. Physics since Galileo has been dominated by this model of atoms (particles) in motion in space. In Process and Reality, however, is a novel and strange atomic model. You have to ask yourself how all that vast apparent space, billions of light-years between galaxies, is fill up, is a plenum. Full up of what in Whitehead’s cosmology? Of actual entities, yes, but what sort of actual entities? Clearly, they are the most simple type of actual entities limited to conformal feeling that merely passes on the most general characteristics of extensiveness. Or can one imagine that insofar as our universe is flooded with light from stars (suns), it is, for Whitehead, a plenum of actual entities whose subjective form is a complex eternal object of appropriate optical properties?

If the actual entities do not move, "thus an actual entity never moves (PR 73), what, then, is motion? Whitehead tells us that "the fundamental meaning of the notion of change" is "the difference between actual occasions comprised in some determinate event" (PR 73; see also PR 80), an event being a particular kind of nexus (PR 73). Further index references on ‘motion’ and ‘change’ do not alter this initial statement. The changes in the actual occasions making up the historic route of some enduring object occur in the concrescence of those actual occasions according to their distinctive subjective aims. Hence motion turns out to be a derivative from these changes in concrescences in which a characteristic is passed’ on in the historic routes by successive objectifications but nothing moves in space. We must remember that each concrescence by itself takes no time, is not a temporal sequence. In Whitehead’s cosmology we have to say that nothing really moves as we ordinarily understand this term from the usual atomic theories. Motion is only apparent, and is derivative from shifts in character of actual occasions in the historic route, no one of which really moves. This is really quite odd when you sit back and think about it. When I walk to my office I do not move; actual occasions in an historic route alter characters. My experience is illusory, but Whitehead often appeals to experience as justification.

We later learn that "Life lurks in the interstices of each living cell, and in the interstices of the brain" (PR 105f); and "life is a characteristic of ‘empty space’ and not of space ‘occupied’ by any corpuscular society" (PR 105). But there is no empty space, rather a plenum, yet Whitehead’s use of interstices strongly suggests something like empty space; so strongly that he chooses that very phrase but puts it in single quotes. Why? The ordinary dictionary meaning of ‘interstices’ is of a small or narrow space between things or pads’. Herein ‘space’ strongly suggests ‘empty space, but in Whitehead’s cosmology there is no empty space. Life is in a very special nexus of actual occasions that resides in such an "interstitial ‘empty’ space" (PR 106). More accurately, life is a complex eternal object belonging to the objectifications of successive actual occasions in a special nexus in the interstitial ‘empty’ space of a personal society. Why does ‘life’ reside in these merely spatial occasions? It may or may not be conscious. ‘Interstices’ I think has dangerous connotations for Whitehead in this discussion. We have to understand interstices as part of the plenum, not empty, but full, perhaps in between corpuscular societies. It would be helpful in a corrected ‘Corrected Index’ to enter ‘interstices.

A last query in my reflections on these passages about plenum and no motion relates to God. In a crucial passage Whitehead uses both actual entity and actual occasion drawing his usual distinction and confines the plenum to actual occasions (PR 77). God is the nontemporal actual entity with its upside-down nature of primordial conceptual prehensions first and consequent physical prehensions second, like no other actual entity. I always puzzle over this exceptional status. God physically prehends all the other actual entities none of which moves. Are we to assume that God also does not move? It would seem so. Is God a member of any nexus? If God has physical prehensions in its consequent nature, then does not God have a position in the plenum? Where is God? Or is God outside of extensiveness? If life involves a nexus in the interstitial space of a corpuscular society, then is God without life? If God is without life, then whence its ‘compassion’ for the world of actual occasions?

Here are my queries. I hope someone will take time to throw enlightenment on these points.

Logic and the Metaphysics of Hegel and Whitehead

The aim of this essay is to raise some questions concerning the relation between logic and metaphysics in the philosophies of Hegel and Whitehead. Of paramount importance to the Hegelian perspective on this relation is the well-known distinction between understanding and reason as two levels of thinking, for involved in this distinction is the view that logic, as it has been traditionally conceived, is merely a logic of the understanding, and that reason, or speculative thinking, employs a higher, more inclusive logic, one that is "dialectical" in nature. For obvious reasons "logic of the understanding" means for Hegel the logic of the Aristotelian and Medieval traditions, and does not include logic in its modern mathematical development. But we may, I think, conclude with Errol Harris (AT 74) that from the Hegelian perspective, the philosophical shortcomings of classical logic extend to mathematical logic as well, and that as logic of the understanding, both deal with the "abstract concept of class or aggregate," and are both inextricably connected with a metaphysics of externally related particulars that lose themselves in a "spurious infinite," and with a concomitant mechanical cosmology. Mathematical logic is, consequently, according to this view, an inadequate instrument for the expression of a metaphysics of organically related particulars.

I will argue in what follows that these metaphysical characters do not necessarily follow upon the adoption of a logic that is not dialectical, i.e., modern mathematical logic. I will also try to establish, or at least render plausible, the view that while the distinction between a logic of reason and a logic of the understanding may have been one that was necessary and legitimate for Hegel to maintain, it has, given developments in modern logic, as well as changes in the modern view of the nature of metaphysical thinking, become obsolescent. I will further try to show that Whitehead the metaphysician displays interests in important respects not unlike those of Hegel, but that in his solutions to certain metaphysical problems, Whitehead not only evidences a conception of metaphysics quite different, and considerably more modest than that of Hegel, but also (and this will be my main point) develops his position in terms of a logic that is entirely non-dialectical. This is, however, not at all to say that "dialectic" finds no place whatever in Whitehead’s system. As we shall see, this is not the case. It is only to say that such dialectic as there is no dialectical logic.

To assure ourselves of this, if only in a preliminary way, we need look no further than the first page of Chapter One in Process and Reality, where Whitehead states quite clearly that in the metaphysical system to be presented "the term ‘logical’ has its ordinary meaning, including ‘logical’ consistency, or lack of contradiction, the definition of constructs in logical terms, the exemplification of general logical notions in specific instances, and the principles of inference" (emphasis added). In addition, it may be useful to point out that in his valuable book Understanding Whitehead, Victor Lowe states (UW50) that Whitehead’s "conception of growth has points of similarity with Hegel’s, but differs in having no use for ‘contradiction,’ and in presenting a hierarchy of categories of feeling rather than a hierarchy of categories of thought." We should emphasize that Lowe is here referring to Whitehead’s categoreal scheme, not to the system of eternal objects which, as I shall argue, is a hierarchy of thought, or, more accurately, a logical hierarchy.

Let us begin by looking at certain aspects of Hegel’s dialectical logic and attempting to make some determinations as to its nature and genesis. Specifically let us ask with regard to this logic two questions, viz.: (I) What is its purpose, and what problems did Hegel hope to solve by means of it? (II) What is the nature of the solution arrived at?

The answer to our first question can be seen to be twofold. That is, Hegel’s purposes (among others) may well have been: (A) to provide an alternative scheme to Aristotelian logical abstraction; and (B) to provide an alternative to the concomitant mechanism and the psychological atomism of his own day, and to the concomitant logical scheme and the Newtonian mathematical model of externally related particulars, as well as to the dogmatic insistence upon the subject-predicate form of this logic and to the substance-attribute ontology that was its metaphysical correlate. Let us say something about each of these in turn.

(A) While it is evident that Hegel was greatly inspired by Aristotle, perhaps more so than by any other philosopher, it is equally evident that he believed Aristotle’s philosophy to be in need of reform in the light of intervening developments. One major reform that Hegel seems to have taken upon himself to effect is the production of a logical hierarchy of being that in a sense reverses the direction of abstraction of the Aristotelian logical hierarchy, i.e., that becomes more differentiated and "concrete" as it rises in generality and inclusiveness, rather than more empty and abstract. That is, Hegel seems to have wished to achieve an articulation of the levels, or "moments," of that hierarchy such that the less general is explicitly shown by means of logical structure to be contained in the more general, rather than being enclosed there merely implicitly, as in the Aristotelian method of definition by genus and differentia. "Each new stage of forthgoing, that is, of further determination," Hegel says (SL 840f.), "is also a withdrawal inwards, and the greater extension is equally a higher intensity. The richest is therefore the most concrete and most subjective, and that which withdraws itself into the simplest depth is the mightiest and most all embracing,"

Aristotelian abstraction is, on the other hand, "where the false path branches off and abstraction strays from the highway of the Notion [Begriff] and forsakes the truth. Its higher and highest universal to which it raises itself is only the surface, which becomes ever more destitute of content (SL 619). While the less inclusive is logically a part of, and contained in, the more inclusive, the definition, or formula, presents the more inclusive as part of and dependent upon the less inclusive. According to this logical structure, the less general or inclusive an element, the more fully articulated it is. This is very much in accord with Aristotle’s view that species is to genus as form is to matter.

But why did Hegel think such a reversal of abstraction so important? Sympathetic as he obviously was to Aristotle’s conception of system, there are within this system certain troublesome anomalies and inconsistencies. Among these would, I think, be found the following. (1) There are certain difficulties with Aristotle’s primary ousia. If it is the sensed individual, then, since only form is knowable, that which is ontologically most basic is not knowable. If, on the other hand, primary ousia is, as Father Owens suggests, neither the sensed individual nor the universal but the individual form, the formal cause or the act within the thing which is prior to both the sensed individual and the universal, we must ask, as Hegel may have done, is any meaningful distinction between "individual form" and universal possible within Aristotelian logic? To this Hegel may well have answered no.

(2) The formal cause of a thing is for Aristotle its essence as expressed by its formula or definition. But the definition, expressed as genus and last differentia, traces the individual thing to an abstract universal that obviously contains less in it, and is in a sense less "real" or fullblooded. How can such a cause be truly productive?

(3) God, or the prime mover, the crown of the hierarchy of being, moves all else in the way a desired object moves, by inspiring everything to realize its proper end as defined by its formal cause. For Aristotle formal cause is prior to final cause because act precedes potency; potency involves incompleteness. Therefore God as prime mover, object of desire, and ultimate final cause must include within himself the system of formal causes, the logical structure of the cosmos, particularly if he is to be "thought thinking itself."

But again there is no adequate way to express this via Aristotelian logical classifications. If God is to be definite at all, he must be defined as the sole member of an infima species. Yet this hardly captures his essence as the universal source of all movement, the most highly formed being, indeed as that being which is pure form itself. As pure form God is, from the perspective of the metaphysical matter-form hierarchy, cut off from the universe as from any "matter" (NMMS 110f.). This should alert us, as it most likely alerted Hegel, to the possibility that something is seriously amiss, and that there is a radical inconsistency between the logical and metaphysical aspects of the system. Indeed logical universality and metaphysical comprehensiveness appear to be working at cross purposes.

(B) For Aristotle, causal efficacy in the cosmos, and the structure of the syllogism are related. The connection, by means of a middle term, between elements of the major and minor premises, gives a reason why something is what it is; the syllogism expresses a cause or ground. But with the rejection, in the post-Renaissance development, of formal and final causality, and with the increasing importance of efficient causation, moreover an efficient causation that bore little resemblance to Aristotle’s efficient causation, the relationship between logic (which was still largely syllogistic) and the world had to break down. The logical connection between concepts was interpreted as connection between subjective "ideas" in the mind.

John Dewey makes this point succinctly when he suggests (EN 229) that "Locke’s simple idea is the classic Idea, Form, or Species dislodged from nature and compelled to take refuge in mind." Not only are these ideas subjective, but as "simple," they are conceived according to the analytic method of Descartes and Galileo, i.e., as atomic constituents externally related. Mathematics, then exclusively the science of quantity and externally related particulars, became the formal tool for the investigation of nature. Both mind and matter have become mere aggregates, heaps of atomic constituents which can be separated and examined in isolation.

The logical model in terms of which the mind with its ideas, and substance with its attributes were conceived as unified wholes was that of the subject with predicates, which also had become something quite other than what it had been for Aristotle, since universals were no longer thought of as "forms." But Aristotelian logic allowed itself to be detached from Aristotelian metaphysics and reinterpreted in the way already indicated. A suitable reformation of logic involving a rejection of the subject-predicate paradigm could, Hegel seems to have thought, overcome the problem of externally related aggregates, while at the same time retrieving logic from the subjectivity into which it had fallen, and restoring it to its rightful place as the formal science of being.

This brings us to our second main question (II): In what way does Hegel’s dialectical logic provide an alternative scheme, and enable him to carry out the twofold project (A, B) which we have just sketched? With regard to the first project (A) of dealing with the logical anomalies in the Aristotelian metaphysics the following observations are, I think, relevant. If we see Hegel’s philosophy, at least in part, as an attempt to rethink the Aristotelian metaphysics in the light of the Kantian "Copernican Revolution," the way in which the Kantian development enabled Hegel to resolve the Aristotelian difficulties emerges.

A clue to this solution can be found in Aristotle’s contention that the particular is known actually, the universal potentially. Aristotle means that in perception the individual form is actualized in the mind of the perceiver and in the object as perceived, and that the universal is then potentially reachable by application of the actualized form to other similar particulars. Hegel reinterprets the potential universal as implicit in the particular an sich. But rather than reaching the universal by a kind of inductive procedure, the implicit becomes explicit as a mental or spiritual component required for intelligibility of the individual and implicitly included within it. Once this implicit component has become explicit and then reintegrated with the individual previously an sich, the new synthesis becomes a concrete universal or Begriff (Concept), a genuine, though limited existent. Why is this now a universal? If Hegel has reinterpreted Aristotle’s potential universal as the an sich, he has supplied a criterion of "actualized" universality that is derived from Kant: universality is determined by the necessary being-for-mind of the individual, such necessity arising out of the structure of the mind itself. The way a given individual must be for mind is its universality, its public nature.

We see this process very clearly exemplified in the development from "Sense-Certainty" to "Perception, and thence to "Force and the Understanding" in the large section entitled "Consciousness" in the Phenomenology of Spirit. In "Sense-Certainty" the mental component emerges when that which is implicitly "meant" (das Meinen), but not said in such designations as this,’ ‘here,’ ‘now,’ becomes explicitly recognized. In "Perception" mind is called upon to make good by taking upon itself (as deception, Täuschung) the onus of inconsistencies inherent in the thing and its properties. Finally, in the justly famous, but very obscure section of "Force and the Understanding" known as the "Inverted World," the metaphysical distinction inherent in all designations such as inner-outer, intelligible-sensible, noumenal-phenomenal collapses, and with it the attempt of substance or "essence" metaphysics to evade contradiction by locating "contradictories" (or contraries) in ontologically disparate realms. Indeed the metaphysical opposition of mind and inert, inanimate thing-as-object itself thereby collapses.

No longer is it assumed out of hand that inconsistency signals the "deception," the inadequacy of mind to the object, its incapacity to apprehend the object as it "truly" is in itself. Rather an "inversion" has taken place: the contradictory object is that which is inadequate; it is only a partial determination of spirit, which is the "true something," das wahrhafte Etwas (SL 118). As the true something spirit is the whole (the universal) as well as the properly "grasped" individual, the moment or determination of spirit. But the universal, if it is to be more than an empty abstraction, is no more intelligible without the individual than is the individual without the universal. (I pass over here the distinction between individual and particular.)

This universal-individual, or individual-universal is the Hegelian "concrete universal." The Kantian heritage in this conception can be discerned in the following, obviously approving, account Hegel gives of the nature of the Kantian object of experience:

In point of fact, the comprehension of an object consists in nothing else than that the ego makes it its own, pervades it and brings it into its own form, that is, into the universality that is immediately a determinateness, or a determinateness that is immediately universality. As intuited or even in ordinary conception, the object is still something external and alien. (SL 584f.)

In the Science of Logic, the process that gives rise to the concrete universal is somewhat different, and it is here that Hegel’s solution most clearly shows its Aristotelian, as well as its Kantian characters. Rather than explicitly invoking consciousness to effect the reconciliation of opposites as he does in the Phenomenology, Hegel here interprets Aufhebung (sublation) as a purely logical movement, in which the "contradiction," or opposed or "dirempted" elements, are as "matter" to the "form" of the resolution on a higher level. As inconsistency is then uncovered in this "form," it in turn becomes "matter" to a yet higher reconciliation. Hegel explicitly describes the process in these terms in at least one place (SL 838). In this way he achieves a form-matter hierarchy reminiscent of Aristotle. It is, however, one not founded on the Aristotelian doctrine of definition and substantial form, but on the dialectical process of "diremption" and "sublation" which has become the "source of all activity, of all animate and spiritual self-movement" (SL 835).

But despite the fact that in the Science of Logic consciousness is not explicitly invoked until the "Doctrine of the Notion" (Be griff), or the "Subjective Logic," and perhaps not even until the "Idea," the Logic is nonetheless an account of the development of consciousness, and for Hegel, as for Kant, logic means rules governing the activity of thought. For one thing, Hegel says as much: "As science, truth is pure self-consciousness in its self-development and has the shape of the self, so that the absolute truth of being is the known Notion and the Notion as such is the absolute truth of being (das an und für sich seiende). This objective thinking, then, is the content of pure science" (SL 49). For another, he equates the "unity which constitutes the nature of the Notion" with Kant’s "original synthetic unity of apperception" (SL 584). Only the activity of thought involves not, as in Kant, the discursive synthetic connection of particulars (representations), but the gradual evolution of the Idea into its full articulation and determinateness, the stipulation within itself of its levels and divisions through a process that is logically necessary. In a crucial shift, Hegel interprets the "transcendental unity of apperception," the "unity of consciousness as "the unity of the ego with itself" (SL 584). This means that, boldly walking where Kant feared to tread, Hegel has identified the content of consciousness with consciousness itself, with self-consciousness, and is well on his way to giving the Kantian transcendental ego, as spirit, the "true something," an ontological significance that Kant did not intend.

But be this as it may, Hegel believes himself to have improved considerably on Kant. On the one hand, he claims to have deduced all the categories of thought, rather than merely accepting them uncritically as paralleling the "judgments" of the "traditional" logic. On the other hand, he appears to have resolved the enigma of the Kantian given sensuous content of experience with its inexplicable provenance. Spirit is content to itself, from the perspective of a more formed, or more fully determinate level. The intent here is Aristotelian, but the execution thoroughly Kantian.

If one accepts Hegel’s moves one can see that he has provided a solution to the three Aristotelian problems. (1) The concrete universal as the individual seen in conjunction with the thought structure implied in it, that which makes it an intelligible unity, is neither a naively conceived sense-object, nor an abstract logical universal. (2) As the Concept (Begriff) of the "object," as its ground of definiteness and intelligibility, it is its formal cause, but now including more explicitly within itself than did the original thing an sich. Formal cause, following Kant, is reinterpreted as necessary "formal" structure of consciousness. (3) As the same process is repeated over and over again, a more and more inclusive structure is uncovered, a structure that, as it appears, shows itself to have been present in the process from the start, and at the same time to have been complete prior to the process, and to include the whole process within itself. In other words a divine principle appears that is both immanent and transcendent, rather than merely transcendent, as Aristotle’s prime mover had finally shown itself to be.

In order to deal with the second project (B) of overcoming the mathematical and aggregative model of the science and metaphysics of his day, of providing an alternative to the subject-predicate paradigm, and of retrieving logic from mere subjective or mental abstraction from "ideas," Hegel developed what has been termed "determinate negation." This doctrine arose out of Hegel’s rethinking of two axioms of traditional logic, the principle of identity, and the principle of noncontradiction.

In a way consistent with these axioms, Hegel’s predecessors regarded any definite thing as identical with itself, and as determined as what it was by being other than, by not being something else. But for Hegel, such identity, and such otherness are self-defeating, since two disparate things, in order to be successfully compared, must have something in common, must be held together by some third thing. For Hegel, as for Kant, this third thing is conceived as mind, or spirit. It is significant, I think, that Hegel characterizes Kant’s "notion of synthetic a priori judgments" as the "notion of something differentiated which equally is inseparable, of an identity which is in its own self an inseparable difference" (SL 209). He also terms the first negation of the triadic movement characteristic of the Logic "analytic," and the second negation (the "negation of the negation") "synthetic." This second "immediate" (i.e., the reintegration of the element "analyzed" out) he calls the "third term" (SL 836).

The apparent diversity of disparate things is really identity, i.e., mind with itself; but in order for such identity, or any expression of identity to have sense, i.e., not to collapse into undifferentiated oneness, it must be articulated into diversity. Thus we have the celebrated "identity in diversity," as a necessary combination of the two. Now since the mathematical and mechanical cosmological model of Hegel’s day contains parts which are diverse, but is incapable of holding itself in a unity or identity, its very diversity is inconceivable. The conception is self-defeating.

The classical expression, e.g., in Aristotle (PA 77a10) and Kant (CPR A151=B190), of the principle of noncontradiction is that a logical subject cannot contain contradictory predicates together. But for Hegel such a subject can and must contain such contradictory predicates; indeed the subject-predicate paradigm is nothing other than an attempt to ignore such contradiction which affords mind its motion, and to rigidify, calcify, and compartmentalize a reality that is fluid and interconnected. The recurring image of the caput mortuum, the death’s head, that, for example, appears with such sarcasm and irony in the treatment of phrenology in the Phenomenology of Spirit, is Hegel’s metaphor for the lifeless rigidity of subject-predicate thinking.

For Hegel, the appearance of contradiction must not be evaded by means of more and more sophisticated theories of "essence," of inner and outer, substratum and manifestation, but should be recognized for what it is: the means by which the dialectical process carries itself forward, thereby showing the inadequacy in itself of each partial determination of the whole. Along with the logical subject-predicate paradigm, the related metaphysical doctrine of enduring substratum with changing attributes is also to be rejected in favor of a conception of process evolving towards more and more interconnection between apparently separate existents.

Let us pause here for a moment in order to get our bearings. We have succeeded in outlining two possible aims that may have spurred Hegel to initiate his radical rethinking of the traditional logic, and to develop his dialectical scheme. We have also indicated the nature of the solutions arrived at by Hegel in terms of that scheme. Our purpose in what follows will be to ask ourselves three questions with regard to the dialectical scheme, viz.: (1) What are its presuppositions? (2) Can these presuppositions be called into question? (3) To what extent is Hegel’s reform of logic really revolutionary?

Although it is, as we have already observed, Hegel’s aim to question the subject-predicate paradigm of traditional logic, the way in which he questions subject-predicate thinking is conceived within the ambit of subject-predicate thinking itself: his dialectical method consists in discovering contradiction between predicates that break down the apparent self-sufficiency, the stable "whatness" of the element under consideration. But he does not question (as did no one else at his time) the foundations of the logic of predication itself.

Let us look first at the project of reversing the abstraction of the Aristotelian logical hierarchy. If such a reversal is one s aim but if at the same time one accepts the traditional estimation of apophantic statements, or propositions, as essentially of the subject-predicate form, one will be driven to a dialectical logic like Hegel’s. Why? The level of greater generality is to have more explicit in it than does the level of less generality. But as we saw, the Aristotelian categorization by abstract concepts produces a higher level of abstraction with less explicit in it. Now if one is to remain with the notion of division as to "whatness,’ i.e., remain within a strictly intentional standpoint, a standpoint which Hegel, despite his revolutionary tendencies, seems to have accepted from classical logic, then one will be led, if one’s aim is like Hegel’s, to emphasize the negative of the ‘what,’ that against which the ‘what’ defines itself, as internalized within the higher level of generality, thereby including the ‘what’ and its negation.

Similarly, if one accepts the view current at Hegel’s time that mathematical abstraction, and axiomatic method in general, is limited to the quantitative, one will be driven, as was Hegel, and Kant before him, to posit a mental element to hold such disparate units together in a unity. As Hegel says in Science of Logic, "As absolute negativity the negative movement of absolute mediation is the unity which is subjectivity and soul [Seele]" (SL 836). Kant’s transcendental unity of apperception and Hegel’s identity in diversity are, I think, both engendered in this way. But for both Kant and Hegel, as highly evolved as their respective versions of idealism are, mind serves as a substitute for the rejected traditional substratum, linking elements otherwise disparate. The substance-attribute conception, although greatly modified, continues in some sense to hold sway.

In terms of logic, the subject-predicate paradigm is stronger yet, and is not even seriously questioned by Kant. It had not yet been seen that the subject-predicate form can be viewed as a special case of a more general account of logical terms, functions, and relations: a true "logic of manifolds," as Cassirer calls it (SF 72), eschewing any psychological elements, was yet to emerge. That is to say, the subject-predicate form is symbolized in mathematical logic as monadic relation, consisting of a functional term and an "argument," either a name or a variable. The traditional formulation of subject and predicate as connected by means of a copula has been entirely eliminated. (The importance of this will emerge in the sequel when negation is discussed.) A dyadic, or any polyadic function, differs from a monadic (predicational) function only in the number of arguments terms present.

This rethinking of logical forms in terms of mathematical functionality involves an important emphasis of extensionality over the traditional intentional view. In the place of the concept abstracted from a group of particulars, the function defines a group or class of individuals, each of which, when substituted as a value of the variable in a function satisfies, or renders the propositional function true, and so generates a proposition. The class so defined extensionally is more basic than is a concept subsequently applied to it, which defines it in an intentional sense (Russell, PM 80f.). Functionality, and the extensional view of classes, afford modern logic a greatly increased flexibility not available to traditional logic, and throw a whole new light on both the problems we have isolated, and against which Hegel directed his dialectical logic.

Let us, again, look first at the problem of Aristotelian abstraction. At this point it is my intention to bring Whitehead into the discussion, for his system of eternal objects involves a reversal of abstraction of the requisite kind, but is expressed in the language of a logic which is not dialectical. At the same time, the system of eternal objects is a conception of a logical hierarchy which could never have arisen before the revolution in logic initiated by Boole, Peano, Frege, Russell, and Whitehead himself. As Lowe puts it, "It is in the highest degree doubtful if the Whiteheadian type of nationalistic method in the field of metaphysics would have developed at all, had not the traditional conception of the scope of mathematics first been transcended" (UW 130f.).

Eternal objects are, in Whitehead’s terminology, what had been called universals, but as he himself is quick to point out (SMW 169), the conception is quite different. He means that these objects are not intentional types or essences, but are class concepts expressed by means of mathematical functions. According to Whitehead’s obviously simplified, but still recondite description of the system of eternal objects in the chapter "Abstraction" in Science and the Modern World, one eternal object contains a lower grade object extensionally as a member of a class or series rather than being contained intentionally in a subject-concept from which it can be abstracted in the traditional way. This means that any object can be treated both as a logical individual and as a function delimiting a class of other objects. The "relational essence of an eternal object, Whitehead tells us,

is determinable by reference to that object alone, and does not require reference to any other objects, except those which are specifically involved in its individual essence when that essence is complex. . . . The meaning of the words ‘any’ and ‘some’ springs from this principle -- that is to say, the meaning of the variable’ in logic. (SMW 164)

Now how does all this bear on reversal of abstraction and Hegel’s concrete universal? The fact that an eternal object can be treated as a logical individual and included as a term in another higher grade object means that the latter includes it in its "essence." But the lower grade object also, unless it is simple, and so at the bottom of the logical hierarchy, includes yet lower grade objects in its essence. Hence we have a hierarchy of increasing complexity, higher levels of which include, in an explicit and articulated way, lower levels in their "essences." The complete system of eternal objects is included within what Whitehead calls the "primordial nature" of God.

We have here a reversal of Aristotelian abstraction not unlike that sought by Hegel, but one accomplished by means of a different, nondialectical reformulation of logic. Increasing abstraction produces increasing complexity and "richness" or articulation. Such abstraction Whitehead terms "abstraction from possibility," as opposed to "abstraction from actuality," with which he says it should not be confused (SMW 170). In Atheism and Theism Errol Harris points to the expression of curves in terms of algebraic formulas in analytic geometry as an example of the Hegelian concrete universal, or at least as an illustration of this conception. But this kind of mathematical abstraction, in Whitehead’s terms an abstraction from possibility, is an equally suitable example of the Whiteheadian eternal object. "The algebraic function," as Harris quite rightly says, "is expressed by and immanent in a spatial figure" and is "universal to its particular manifestations" (AT 74). The algebraic function defines a class of "points" that are mutually disposed in a certain way, and classes of these classes. What is most significant is that greater generality and abstraction does not entail greater vacuity and loss of articulation.

Cassirer makes this point very nicely as follows:

Here the more universal concept shows itself also the more rich in content; whoever has it can deduce from it all the mathematical relations which concern the special problems, while on the other hand, he takes these problems not as isolated but as in continuous connection with each other, thus in their deeper systematic connections. The individual case is not excluded from consideration, but is fixed and retained as a perfectly determinate step in a general process of change. . . . Modern expositions of logic have attempted to take account of this circumstance by opposing, -- in accordance with a well-known distinction of Hegel’s -- the abstract universality of the concept to the concrete universality of the mathematical formula. (SF 20, emphasis added)

Furthermore, algebraic form itself can be made an object of study on an even higher level of abstraction, and given various nonquantitative interpretations. That algebra can be given a logical interpretation was Boole’s insight, and Boole’s Laws of Thought in turn inspired Whitehead’s first major work, the Universal Algebra, which was an attempt to treat algebraic patterns at the highest possible level of generality, and "deals with abstract ideas in hierarchical patterns" (UW 139). The connection between the conception of hierarchy in the Universal Algebra and the metaphysical doctrine of eternal objects developed thirty years later is unmistakable, and is remarked upon by Lowe (UW 139).

Let us now pass over to the second Hegelian project of dealing with the problems of externally related particulars in the mathematical cosmology of his day, and of the inadequacy of the subject-predicate paradigm. An extremely important aspect of the system of eternal objects is that they are internally related. As Whitehead says in Science and the Modern World (p. 160), "Since the relationships of A [an eternal object] to other eternal objects stand determinately in the essence of A, it follows that they are internal relations."

But what does this assertion of internal relatedness mean, particularly in light of the fact that Whitehead tells us in Adventures of Ideas (p. 157) that the traditional doctrine of "internal relations is distorted by reason of its description in terms of language adapted to presuppositions of the Newtonian type"? Certainly the "particulars" in a class are not internally related. But these are particulars of the same grade of complexity. However, the class, and the eternal object defining it, are, as we saw, included within a higher grade object as a term, and as part of its "essence. For example, a simple eternal object, say a "particular shade of green," can be incorporated in "another eternal object of the lowest complex grade," say "three definite colors with the spatio-temporal relatedness to each other of three faces of a regular tetrahedron, anywhere at any time" (SMW 166). Although the simple eternal object defines a class of particulars that as values of the variable are that definite shade of green, and although these individuals are externally related, the simple eternal object itself is internally related to the higher grade object, in that it partially constitutes its essence.

But it is far from evident that this solves the problem of external and internal relatedness and that it really produces a viable model of internal relatedness via mathematical logic. Yes, eternal objects as definitive of classes, and classes of classes, can be interpreted as interconnected and internally related in this way, but what about the simple objects, the final result of analysis? They must be externally related; and if they are, the whole system is ultimately a mere aggregate. And then there is the problem of individual existent "things," actualities as opposed to the formal abstract possibilities which are the eternal objects. How are they individual, yet internally related? The answers to these questions will be seen to be connected.

The Whiteheadian actuality, the occasion, represents a complete and thoroughgoing rejection of the substance-attribute conception, and is entirely relational in its essence. But what does this mean? If we think for a moment of the Leibnizian monad, with which the occasion has much in common, we can recall that each monad represents the entire universe from a particular perspective. But as conceived by Leibniz as a qualified substance, such perspectives are attributed to each monad internally, so that the interconnection between monads is only apparent; they are in actuality "windowless" and externally related, and in concord only by virtue of pre-established harmony. Although Leibniz did, in a most modern way, conceive of space as inherently relational, as an "order of co-existence," rather than as a self-subsistent "container," his prejudice in favor of the subject-predicate form for propositions led him to interpret relational forms as ultimately reducible to predicational forms, and to assume that the latter had primary metaphysical significance. According to Leibniz’s conception, it is by means of the particular perspective "built in" to the monad that its individuality is established according to the identity of the indiscernible. The monads are not individuated in space, but space is constructed out of their implied logical relations: they are not in space and time, but space and time are in them.

The Whiteheadian actual occasion is conceived along similar lines, but instead of being a substance persisting through time in apparent relation with other substances, the occasion is a process of actualization of a set of real relations. It is constituted by a selection from the scheme of general relatedness, i.e., from the system of eternal objects. Like the Leibnizian monad, the occasion is individuated by its individual essence, its particular perspective; but unlike the Leibnizian monad this essence is not predicated of the occasion as a substantial substratum, but enters into the inner constitution of the occasion as "a vector transmission of emotional feeling" or, in the language of physics, "the transmission of a form of energy" from past occasions via the eternal objects that communicate the emotional form and make possible the subsequent reenactment by the prehending occasion (PR 315/ 479f.). "The actual entity, in virtue of being what it is, is also where it is" (PR 59/ 93).

We have here an updated version of Kant’s criticism of the Leibnizian monad in the "Amphiboly" in the Critique of Pure Reason: the spatially situated existent is indeed made up of relations rather than being a substance containing its "inhering" attributes internally as predicates which are part of its concept; only the relations are no longer those of the synthetically connected manifold, but the relational connections between the particulars of modern functional or mathematical logic, expanded to include within itself the spatial and temporal relations which Kant could only account for by means of the synthetic a priori. In Whitehead’s view "the extensiveness of space is really the spatialization of extension; and the extensiveness of time is really the temporalization of extension (PR 289/ 442). And as the Kneales have it, "when ‘space’ and words of similar origin occur in pure mathematics, they refer to abstract patterns of ordering which may conceivably be exemplified by widely differing systems of objects" (DL 386). In this way logic resumes its place as the formal science of being, but not as a theory of mental activity, or as a morphology of mind.

We are now in a position to begin to solve the problem of the nature of internal relations between actual occasions, and also to make manifest the affinities between the actual occasion and the Hegelian concrete universal, a goal towards which we have been moving all along. We have already recognized the sense in which eternal objects are internally related: the more general or abstract function includes the less general as a constituent or term. This sense of internality in mathematical functions is not particularly strange or unusual, and something like it is recognized by so different a mathematical philosopher as Wittgenstein: "The internal relation by which a series is ordered is equivalent to the operation that produces one term from another" (TLP 5.232). Now this conception of internal relatedness of forms is on the one hand the means by which Whitehead makes intelligible causal relatedness between prehending and prehended occasions via his theory of propositions. But on the other hand, the concatenation of functional forms, or eternal objects, affords him the means to establish relations, indirect, but nevertheless internal, between contemporary occasions, where causal relations proper are not in question at all. Let us now see how this is achieved.

In the language of mathematical logic, at least as it was current in Whitehead’s day, a proposition is produced from a propositional function by substituting a name as value for the variable in the argument position of the function, or by quantifying over a range of such values. Now for Whitehead, a proposition is "a hybrid between pure possibilities and actualities" (PR 185f./ 282). In a proposition, "The definite set of actual entities involved are called the ‘logical subjects of the proposition’; and the definite set of eternal objects involved are called the ‘predicates of the proposition.’ The predicates define a potentiality of relatedness for the subjects" (PR 186/ 283).

This all seems rather straightforward. The concrescing occasion entertains a "proposal": can the prehended occasions as logical subjects be integrated with certain universals or eternal objects thereby producing that hybrid entity termed by Whitehead a ‘proposition’? In this way "a proposition is an element in the objective lure proposed for feeling" (PR 187/ 284). One can see here the connection between the internal relation between eternal objects, and the fact that from the standpoint of the prehending occasion, its datum, as a logical subject placed within a functional context, is internally related to it. As it is a term in a proposition, so is it an element in the constitution of the prehending occasion entertaining the proposal. This is the relation that Whitehead terms ‘efficient causation,’ and there is an asymmetry about it: from the standpoint of the prehended occasion, or the datum, the relation is an external one. In this strictly causal sense, contemporary occasions are externally related as well.

But perhaps more interesting, and certainly more relevant to our Hegelian themes, is the question of internal relations between contemporary occasions that are not directly related via efficient causation. The possibility of such indirect relatedness appears to be indicated by Whitehead in the following passage:

. . . the objectifications of the presented duration represent a recovery by its contemporaries of a very real efficacy in the determination of M [an actual occasion]. It is true that the eternal objects which effect this objectification belong to the feeling-tones which M derives from the past. But it is a past which is largely common to M and to the presented duration. Thus by the intermediacy of the past, the presented duration has its efficacy in the production of M. (PR 3211 489)

This sharing of a common past is, I suggest, very significant. For it means that all neighboring contemporary actual occasions share to some extent the same content, though with different degrees of comprehensiveness, different valuative emphases, different "perspectives. But especially significant is the fact that this sharing of the same content cannot mean that they "represent" in a similar way the same past world: this is sheer Leibnizianism. It means that the past is literally present in them. As Whitehead says:

The principle of universal relativity directly traverses Aristotle’s dictum, ‘A substance is not present in a subject.’ On the contrary, according to this principle an actual entity is present in other actual entities. In fact if we allow for degrees of relevance, and for negligible relevance, we must say that every actual entity is present in every other actual entity. (PR 50/ 79)

This is also the burden of Whitehead’s "reformed subjectivist principle": all togetherness is experiential togetherness, or an abstraction from experiential togetherness. There is no "objective" togetherness to which experiential togetherness must "correspond" (PR 189f./ 288). But on the other hand, occasions are not, like monads, self-enclosed substances. Again, their perspectives are not representations: concrescence is "the cumulation of the universe and not a stage-play about it" (PR 237/ 363).

Now to say that the past is present in actual occasions is to say that they prehend the forms bequeathed them by past occasions. It is the form that is transmitted, not the original creativity, for the latter has perished. As Whitehead says, "‘Change’ is the description of the adventures of eternal objects in the evolving universe of actual things" (PR 59/ 92). While the occasions are indeed individual "creatures," their distinct individuality depends upon eternal objects as forms of definiteness. But since these forms are not predicated of the occasion as of a substratum, contemporary occasions are genuinely intersecting perspectives on a concatenated past order, and so indirectly contain something of each other. This seems to me to be the most natural construction to place upon Whitehead’s statement just quoted, that "every actual entity is present in every other actual entity." To be sure, future entities are not present in present entities, nor are present entities present in past entities. But neither future entities nor past entities are actual. With this stipulation, I would urge that the view for which I have argued is one that takes Whitehead at his word.

This is not to deny that the final outcome of the concrescing activity of contemporaries is not available to one another. Yet by means of "presentational immediacy" occasions project the concrescence of contemporaries as possible "atomizations of the potential extensive continuum according to available knowledge of their past. Admittedly presentational immediacy does not constitute symmetrical prehensions between contemporary occasions. But some internal relatedness between contemporary occasions seems indicated by Whitehead when he says:

The Cartesian subjectivism in its application to physical science became Newton’s assumption of individually existent physical bodies, with merely external relationships. We diverge from Descartes by holding that what he has described as primary attributes of physical bodies are really the forms of internal relationship between actual occasions, and within actual occasions. (PR 309/ 471).

The terms in which Whitehead describes his divergence from Descartes are extremely suggestive: for it is his mathematical or functional conception of form that enables him to effect his "reform" of the Cartesian subjectivism. Unlike the logic of subject-predicate, mathematics is entirely unconcerned with what something is "in itself," or in isolation. What something is is determined by its function or role. As Cassirer tells us, "We have in pure mathematics a field of knowledge, in which things or their properties are disregarded in principle" (SF 18). Since what something is is determined by its function, the same datum can be implicated by different prehending occasions with different eternal objects. The same datum can come to serve different functions in different concrescences. Yet the datum, though not the original creativity, is literally "present in" both concrescences, though it is (or may be) functioning in different ways. It is in virtue of sharing this common datum, a state of affairs that is only possible given the tendency of mathematical organization simultaneously to place different interpretations on the "same" element, vis-avis its relations, that the concrescing occasions are internally related. This is the central point to be driven home.

We can now deal with the question, earlier deferred, of how it is possible to insist upon internal relations between occasions while at the same time recognizing that from a logical point of view the members of a class of particulars defined by a function would have to be externally related. Since each actual occasion prehends a multiplicity of data, moreover a multiplicity which persists on various levels of logical abstractness and generality, each occasion is ex hypothesi a complex entity. Because every occasion must include some very general and abstract eternal objects as forms of definiteness (i.e., spatial, temporal, "epochal" ones) as well as less pervasive forms, no occasion is constituted as a heap of unileveled components, one as important or unimportant as another. The forms that provide definiteness can be analyzed to logical simples; but this is a mere abstraction, an "abstraction from actuality," to be exact. To assume, as many seem to have done, that the logically simple is per se the metaphysically primary is to fall prey in a particularly egregious way to the fallacy of misplaced concreteness.

At this point the Hegelian parallel begins to emerge. The definiteness of the actual occasion is due to its form, its perspective of pattern, that aspect of the whole included within it. It is individual; but its distinct individuality arises out of the universal manifested in it. On the other hand, the universal as such is merely pure possibility, completely indefinite and unrealized apart from the concrescence of actual occasions and implications with prehended data. But this is the same polarity that we found operative in the concrete universal, though the conception of logical form, and thus the logical basis upon which the rejection of separately persisting externally related individuals rests, is entirely different. We also have in Whitehead, as we do in Hegel, a graded hierarchy of existents, from God to "the most trivial puff of existence in far off empty space" (PR 18/ 28). As the reservoir of possibility, the source of the subjective aim of every occasion, God in his primordial nature is the ultimate formal and final cause of the universe, analogous to Aristotle’s prime mover. Yet God in his consequent nature is fully actual, and is just one, albeit a supreme existent amongst all others. It is in terms of this dual nature, the mental and physical poles, a dual nature shared by all existents, that Whitehead provides his own solution to the Aristotelian transcendence-immanence problem.

Also important for the character of the occasion are those objects not included in its choice of pattern, and this question of negative "prehensions" bears interestingly upon Hegelian determinate negation. If we look at the table of judgments in the Critique of Pure Reason (A70=B95), we find under the heading of judgments as to quality the threefold division: affirmative, negative, infinite. That is, Kant, following Aristotle (DI 19b19), distinguishes between propositions like ‘A is not just’ and ‘A is not-just,’ these being respectively negative and infinite. Taking account of the fact that according to Kant the third category of each of the four groups arises somehow from a combination of the first two (CPR B110), there can be little doubt that we have here in Kant’s divisions a proximate source of Hegelian determinate negation.

Now it is of great interest that the distinction between negative and infinite propositions has not been preserved in symbolic logic. Both propositions referred to above would be symbolized as J(a). As we observed earlier, the conception of subject and predicate as connected by means of a copula has been eliminated. Because of this there is no way to distinguish symbolically ‘A is not just from ‘A is not-just’ as Aristotle does in De Interpretatione. This is not the result of clumsiness or oversight; there is a reason for it, namely the truth-functional stance of modern logic: 1 (a) simply means that the individual named ‘A’ does not satisfy the propositional function in question, i.e., 1 (x), or a true proposition does not emerge when that name is substituted in the argument position. This is important because until the work of Frege the relation between Aristotelian syllogistic of class inclusion and the Stoic propositional calculus developed by Chrysippus and others remained shrouded in darkness. Before the advent of quantification theory it was not realized that the logic of classes presupposed the propositional calculus, and so the notion of truth functionality. As Russell has said (IMP 166), the propositions thought to be the most basic in traditional logic are not the most basic at all.

But once classes are defined by satisfaction or non-satisfaction of a function, the infinite judgment and determinate negation are no longer tenable constructions in logic. Thus when Whitehead says that every occasion is a synthesis of being and not-being" (SMW 163), this sounds like Hegel, and indeed it is similar in intent to determinate negation. But from a logical point of view it is essentially quite different. For what Whitehead means by this is that an "eternal object in all its determinate relationships is excluded from that occasion." But eternal objects, we have established, are mathematical or functional forms. As one final bit of evidence for this let us note that Whitehead, in Science and the Modern World (p. 172), says that in his "account of an actual occasion in terms of its connection, with the realm of eternal objects, we have gone back to the train of thought . . . where mathematics was discussed," and to "the ideas ascribed to Pythagoras. . . .

The exclusion of an eternal object from an occasion simply means that no aspect of the constitution of that occasion satisfies that function, or that the class defined by that function does not enter into the constitution of that occasion. But the important point is that the negation of a function (predicate) does not produce a "negative function," for there can be none such. It merely indicates that no value, or no value from a restricted range can satisfy that function, or that a particular value does not satisfy it. As we have seen, predication is one kind of functional expression. The functional form has thus undercut the basis for determinate negation, i.e., the presence in one substantial thing of contradictory predicates. As the Kneales have it, "the ambiguous and confusing terminology of ‘subject’ and ‘predicate’ will now give place in logic to a more satisfactory distinction of propositional forms according to the doctrine of functions" (DL 436). A thing either satisfies a function or it does not.

But we should realize that a "thing," the value of a variable, can be anything conceivable, simple or complex, and can simultaneously satisfy many different functions. It can be a member of many different classes, and can then enter into many different relations. Furthermore, anything is the sole member of some class (PM 63). In this way modern logic, if judiciously employed, has the flexibility to express something not unlike the Hegelian fluid and multileveled connection between things, and in its own way is able to "destroy," in the manner of Hegel’s "speculative proposition" (PS 38), the rigid subject-predicate paradigm.

This is, however, not at all to say that there is not a dialectical element to be found in Whitehead’s philosophy. There very definitely is such an element, only it is not logical, but emotional, or having to do with feeling. By identifying the dialectical element that he recognizes in the process of concrescence with feeling rather than with logic, Whitehead is able to preserve the integrity of logic, and to avoid what I take to be the Hegelian dual fallacy of both overestimating the power of so-called "reason," and at the same time encumbering logic with psychological, epistemological, and metaphysical elements that have no proper place in it. Whitehead’s dialectic emerges in his striking separation of propositions and judgments, for the most part identified by both Kant and Hegel, and his rather daring recognition of the applicability of both correspondence and coherence criteria in his epistemology. Propositions are for Whitehead either true or false; judgments can be correct, incorrect, or suspended. To the former, he says, applies the correspondence criterion; to the latter, the coherence criterion (PR 1911 291).

This means that whereas a proposition must properly conform to the nexus to which it refers independently of the experience of any particular occasion, and is a logical type, a judgment is concerned with the conformity of components within one particular occasion, and is an emotional type. The judging subject feels the appropriateness, or inappropriateness, vis-a-vis its subjective aim, of a proposed qualification of its datum. For this reason the negative judgment, not the false proposition, is the "peak of mentality" (PR 5/7), the "triumph of consciousness" (PR 273/ 417): the ability to judge negatively, to withhold assent, to develop this way or that, is greater in the higher grade entity. It is the source of error and evil; but as the source of freedom it makes novelty possible. It is in this sense that the occasion is a synthesis of being and not-being. There is a dialectical opposition, but one that is not at all logical, but emotional, having to do with feeling.

Let us now try to recapitulate. We began by isolating two problems in the logic and mathematics of Hegel’s day which he attempted to deal with by means of his dialectical logic. These two problems were: (1) the empty abstraction of the Aristotelian logical hierarchy; (2) the interconnected problems of a mathematical cosmology of externally related particulars, the subjective significance accorded the subject matter of logic, and the inadequacy of the subject-predicate paradigm along with the concomitant substance-attribute dogma of metaphysics. We found in Hegel’s dialectical logic an imaginative attempt at a solution, but one still very much mired in the presuppositions of the logic he wished to replace. We then tried to suggest that mathematical logic involved a more thoroughgoing critique of these presuppositions, and adduced the metaphysics of Whitehead as an example of a proposed solution conceived in terms of mathematical, rather than dialectical logic.

But in addition to the thoroughgoing logical differences between Hegel and Whitehead to which we have largely directed our attention, there is an important difference in their respective conceptions of the nature of the metaphysical argument itself that should at least be touched upon here. Despite Hegel’s rejection of pre-Kantian dogmatic metaphysics, there is reason to see in the Hegelian method a new dogmatism, to see it as perhaps the final attempt to produce a metaphysics in the traditional style, namely the last attempt to directly establish a metaphysical position. Since then, this conception of metaphysics has given way to one of metaphysics as the study of most basic or general presuppositions, and of the metaphysical argument as hypothetical in the manner of a scientific theory, but on a level of higher generality. This certainly seems to be the sense of Whitehead s conception of "imaginative rationalization" or "generalization" (PR 5/ 7).

This point can perhaps be made clearer by noting that Hegel’s metaphysical enterprise can be seen as a highly sophisticated reworking of the cosmological-ontological argument for the existence of God. (I follow Kant here in regarding the former as presupposing the latter.) The Absolute as fully determinate both contains within itself all possible determinations, and is the original ground of these determinations. While recognizing the manifest unsatisfactoriness of the traditional versions of these proofs, Hegel attributes their lack of success to the fact that they move on the level of understanding rather than on that of reason. "A reason-derived knowledge of God," the "highest problem of philosophy" (EL Sec. 36, Zusatz) does indeed set the understanding an impossible task; but for reason such knowledge is not only possible, it is necessary. In order to achieve self-consistency, reason must uncover the divine principle within itself and in the world. It can rest satisfied only when it has, as spirit, appropriated as its own, indeed as itself, the whole which alone is truly infinite and so self-sufficient, which is the true one substance of Spinoza, which is God. It is towards this goal that the dialectical process ineluctably drives thought; immediately it begins truly to think, rather than merely to calculate.

For Whitehead, given his implicit rejection of the Hegelian distinction between a logic of the understanding and a logic of reason, and given his conception of the nature of the metaphysical argument, God is not, and cannot be the inevitable culmination of such a logical progression. In Whitehead’s system God is a necessary metaphysical presupposition. By the "ontological principle," the system of eternal objects, or possibles, must be grounded in some actual existent, in this case God’s mental pole, or God’s primordial nature.

But beyond the requirements of Whitehead’s ontological principle, we can, even if we doubt the legitimacy of dialectical logic, be sympathetic to the Hegelian view that God is in some sense a necessity for rational thought. We may hold that the existence of God cannot be directly established by any logical argument, dialectical or otherwise; but we can insist that some objective principle of order and value is immanent in rational thought in particular, and in the cosmos as a whole. The fact that such is not easily proved means little. One judges a metaphysical scheme by coherence and illuminative power, and such a scheme does not gain adherents in a way a victor carries off the trophies in a debating contest. For as Whitehead has said, "proof," in the strict sense of the term, is "a feeble second-rate procedure" (quoted in UW 367).

 

References

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CPR -- Kant, Immanuel. Critique of Pure Reason, tr. Kemp Smith. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1965.

DI -- Aristotle. De Interpretatione, tr. Ackrill. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1979.

DL -- Kneale, William and Martha. The Development of Logic. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1978.

EL -- Hegel, G. W. F. Encyclopedia Logic.tr. Wallace. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1968.

EN -- Dewey, John. Experience and Nature. New York: Dover, 1958.

IMP -- Russell, Bertrand. Introduction to Mathematical Philosophy. London: Allen and Unwin, Ltd.

NMMS -- Harris, Errol E. Nature, Mind, and Modern Science. New York: Humanities Press, Inc. 1968.

PA -- Aristotle. Posterior Analytics, tr. Mure. The Basic Works of Aristotle, ed. McKeon. New York: Random House, 1941.

PM -- Russell, Bertrand. Principles of Mathematics. New York: Norton & Co.

POS -- Hegel, G. W. F. Phenomenology of Spirit, tr. Miller, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1981.

SF -- Cassirer, Ernst. Substance and Function, tr. Swabey. Chicago:

Open Court, 1953.

SL -- Hegel, G. W. F. Science of Logic, tr. Miller. New York: Humanities Press, 1976.

TLP -- Wittgenstein, Ludwig. Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, tr. Pears and McGuinness. New York: Humanities Press, 1969.

UW -- Lowe, Victor. Understanding Whitehead. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1966.