Aquinas: A New Introduction

AQUINAS

A New Introduction

JOHN PE TERSON

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ISBN-13: 978-0-7618-4104-3ISBN-10: 0-7618-4104-0

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PETERSON

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Aquinas provides an in-depth analysis of basic philosophical concepts in the thought of Aquinas. These concepts include: being, essence, existence, form, matter, truth, goodness, freedom and necessity, knowledge, willing and choosing, and right action. These ideas are approached from an analytical point of view but the analysis is not exceedingly technical, which allows beginners to follow the discussion.

Many other works consider only one aspect of Aquinas’s thought such as his treatment of persons, his arguments for God’s existence, or his theory of truth, but Peterson’s Aquinas combines readability with both depth and close analysis to give a comprehensive overview of Aquinas’s work without sacrifi cing either accuracy or depth.

John Peterson (Ph.D.) is Professor of Philosophy in the University of Rhode Island. He is the author of Realism and Logical Atomism (1976), Introduction to Scholastic Realism (1999), and critical papers in a dozen philosophical journals.

AquinasPODPBK.indd 1AquinasPODPBK.indd 1 8/6/08 2:16:08 PM8/6/08 2:16:08 PM

Aquinas

A New Introduction

John Peterson

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To Gary, Mary Hope, Margaret, Sam and Sarah

v

Acknowledgments vii

Introduction ix

1 Change and Its Causes 1

2 Being 31

3 Truth 89

4 Universals 114

5 Persons 131

6 Ethics 207

Select Bibliography 239

Index 241

Contents

vii

I should like gratefully to acknowledge the support of the Center for the Humanities in the University of Rhode Island and its director, Prof. GalenJohnson, in the publication of this book. I wish also to thank the Universityof Rhode Island Alumni Association and M. Beverly Swann, Vice-Presidentfor Academic Affairs and Provost of the University of Rhode Island, fortheir help in this project. Last but not least, my gratitude goes out to the Phi-losophy Department of the University of Rhode Island and its Chair, Prof.Donald Zeyl, for their support and encouragement.

Acknowledgments

ix

Metaphysics is the core of philosophy in Aquinas. It is first philosophy. ‘First’here does not mean temporally first. The science of metaphysics is not first inthe order of our knowledge. On the contrary it is the last, or nearly the last,science in the order of learning. But while it is last or nearly last temporallyspeaking, metaphysics is absolutely first logically speaking. Metaphysics isfirst philosophy because, while all the other sciences include the principles ofmetaphysics, metaphysics does not include the principles of any one of theother sciences. It is thus the independent science, the science that studies be-ing just as being. The causes or elements of being as being enter into mobilebeings, immobile beings, living beings and non-living beings. But the causesor elements of mobile beings, immobile beings, living beings and non-livingbeings do not enter into the principles of being as being. So all the other sci-ences depend on metaphysics as the logically posterior depends on the logi-cally prior. That just means that something can be a being without being a liv-ing being. For it might be a non-living being. Or something can be a beingwithout being a non-living being. For it might be a living being. Or somethingcan be a being without being an immobile being. For it might be a mobile be-ing. And so on. But something cannot be living or non-living being or mobileor immobile being without being a being.

As for epistemology, Aquinas devotes no separate treatise to that subject. Hedoes not question whether it can be known that there is an external world,whether it can be known for what it is, and whether, in fact, anything at all canbe known for certain. Aquinas is a direct realist in epistemology. He does notask whether there can be knowledge of basic principles or whether knowledgehas the independently real as its object. He focuses instead on the ontologicalstatus and structure of knowledge. His concern in knowledge is always with

Introduction

what might be called the ontology of knowledge. He asks what knowledge is,what the conditions of knowledge are, how knowledge takes place, what theeffects of knowledge are, and what implications the fact of knowledge has forunderstanding what knowers are. In fact, except when he speaks of divine orangelic knowledge, Aquinas deals with knowledge only in the larger contextof the nature of human beings. A correct account of knowledge is importantnot just or even primarily for its own sake but for the sake of understandingwhat persons are. This is in turn important for the wider metaphysical questionof whether the created world consists of matter alone. For if it turns out thatknowledge implies that persons are in some way independent of both theirown bodies and bodily states as well as the bodies or bodily states of otherthings, then the world has a non-material dimension.

As for Aquinas’s ethics, it is once again clear that metaphysics is itsground. The fundamental notion in his ethics is that of good. But ‘good’ inAquinas has the nature of an end or final cause. And the end, good or finalcause that is relevant in ethics is the objective end, good, or final cause of per-sons taken just as persons. Aquinas is thus far from being a mechanist likeHobbes or Spinoza. But it is not just that his ethics presupposes a general tele-ological view of nature. It is that the very standard by which acts are calledright or wrong in Aquinas is a certain objective end in nature, the natural endor good of human beings. If you want to know what acts of a human beingare right you first have to know what a human being is and that requiresknowing what a human being is “for”. This knowledge is the basis of what hecalls the natural law. Thus, Aquinas’s ethics is metaphysical just because it isbuilt on the idea of a natural end. And it is the concept of natural end that isbehind the idea of natural law. Conformity to the natural law for human be-ings is the proximate criterion of right action. But the concept of natural lawitself implies a teleological view of the world. Every natural thing is “for”something which is the end or good of that thing and that end or good deter-mines the law of its nature. A more thoroughgoing teleological ethics than thisit would be difficult to imagine.

But the metaphysics of Aquinas’s ethics runs even deeper. Human beingshave a distinctive operation or function which is identified with their naturalend or good. This function or operation consists in rational activity. But all ra-tional activity or thought is directed beyond itself. It has an extrinsic object.And the higher or more intelligible that object is, the more the rational activ-ity or thought of a person is perfected. So a person’s natural end finds its per-fection in a person’s knowing or contemplating the most intelligible object,i.e. God. A human being, then, is not just “for” rational activity. To the extentthat rational activity reaches its natural end, good, or perfection in andthrough acquaintance with the most intelligible object, a person is “for”

x Introduction

knowing or contemplating God. To the extent, then, that ethics has to do withthe final natural end of persons just as persons and not as teachers, physicians,builders, etc., the idea of God is central to ethics. But since God alone is Hisown being and the cause of all other being, metaphysics, the science of being,is directed above all things to God, the highest being. So in the philosophy ofAquinas ethics is linked to metaphysics in and through the concept of Godwhich is central to both.

To turn to metaphysics per se, it is useful to say what, metaphysicallyspeaking, Aquinas is not. He is not a materialist either in the sense of beingone who believes that persons are identified with their bodies or bodily statesor in the wider sense of being one who believes that to be is to be in space.As for the latter, Aquinas believed in God and in angels. He called them sep-arated substances. These substances are called “separated” just because, be-ing purely spiritual, they are separated from matter. God and angels do nothave spatial dimensions. And as for the former, he holds that each person hasan immaterial soul and that that soul survives death. From this, the temptationis to conclude that Aquinas was a Cartesian before Descartes. For bothphilosophers avoid the extremes of materialism on the one hand and idealismon the other. They both deny either that all is matter or that all is mind.

Yet there are important differences between the two philosophers. That ispartly due to the fact that Aquinas was less of a Platonist than was Descarteson the matter of persons. For Descartes, a person’s soul or mind is a completesubstance, just as it is for Plato. But for Aquinas, who is here closer to Aris-totle, a person’s soul is not a complete substance in its own right but ratherthe form of his or her body. For wider philosophical reasons, Descartes re-jected outright the analysis of natural things into form and matter. For thatreason, he could not and would not have applied the form-matter schema tothe analysis of persons. So even though they are together in denying what isnow called identity materialism (as well as, for that matter, epiphenomenal-ism), the two philosophers part company as regards the sort of thing the spir-itual human soul is, i.e. whether it is a complete substance or the (incomplete)form of a substance.

But while he is no materialist, Aquinas is no idealist either. He would haveopposed both the subjective idealism of Berkeley as well as the objective Ide-alism of Hegel. To be is not either to perceive, experience, think or to be per-ceived, experienced or thought. Though he is one with Berkeley in holdingthat ordinary things like trees and toads exist independently of finite minds,Aquinas would have rejected Berkeley’s view that, when they are unper-ceived by finite minds, these same things are nothing but ideas in God’s mind.For he held that ordinary things like trees are material exemplifications oftheir respective immaterial Ideas or Archtypes in the mind of God. They have

Introduction xi

a material as well as a noetic mode of existence. Thus, so far from beingthemselves ideas in the Mind of God or anyone else, individual trees andtoads are physical exemplifications of the divine Ideas of treeness and toad-ness. This represents the influence of neo-Platonism on the thought ofAquinas, as modified by St Augustine. And as for Hegel, Aquinas would haverejected the latter’s rationalism. By ‘rationalism’ here it is not meant ration-alism as opposed to empiricism but rationalism in the sense of the identifica-tion of the real with the rational. For it was the view of Aquinas that to the ex-tent that ordinary things are individual, they are unknown by intellect alone.That is because the principle of their individuality is matter and it is a condi-tion of intellect’s knowing what things are that it abstracts from matter. Whatmakes a thing knowable to us is its universal form. But a thing’s individual-ity, which is real and not just phenomenal, and which Aquinas attributes tomatter, is something that escapes pure intellect. We have no purely intellec-tual intuition of individuals. Here, it is easy to put Aquinas on a slippery slopeto Kantianism. But the temptation must be resisted. Aquinas, no less thanHegel and the post-Kantian Idealists, would reject Kantian skepticism or theview that what is ultimately real is unknown. But that is quite consistent withholding that there is nonetheless something in or about the ultimately real,namely, its radical individuality, that evades intellect or at least pure intellector intellect acting on its own. Aquinas, then, is to be seen as occupying a po-sition mid-way between Kant and Hegel on the matter of the rationality of thereal. Individual things are neither totally rational nor totally non-rational.What makes for their individuality, for their being this as opposed to that, isnot something conceptual. It cannot be grasped by intellect alone. It is onlygrasped by intellect on the condition that intellect turns to sense. This is onestrand in what may be called Aquinas’s existentialism, if by ‘existentialism’it is meant that the real is unidentical with the rational or universal, be it theabstract universal of Plato or the concrete universal of Hegel. But at the sametime, individual things can be known by us for their species, for what they areor for what they have in common with other individuals.

But it is not just the identification of the real with the rational that Aquinaswould have opposed in Hegel. He would have opposed the latter’s absolutis-tic monism as well as his idealism. By ‘monism’ here it is meant the view thatreality, despite its diversity, is ultimately one Subject. Hegel’s monism is theview that Reality is one, all-pervasive Subject struggling through history inorder to become fully self-conscious. This monism Aquinas would have op-posed on both philosophical and theological grounds. On the theological side,it conflicts with Christianity. Under the latter, the infinite God is separatefrom the finite world which He creates out of nothing. But this dualism of thefinite and the infinite, like every other hard and fast dualism, is incompatible

xii Introduction

with Hegelianism. And on the philosophical side, Aquinas would have won-dered how, in the philosophy of the Absolute, it is possible to keep the dis-tinction between a person and his or her experiences. If I am but a moment ina larger Self or Subject, somewhat like a wave is part of the ocean, how am Ia discrete self or person in my own right? And if I am not, how does the dis-tinction between myself and my experiences make sense? For underHegelianism, it is difficult to see how this ‘I’ or ‘me’ is itself anything morethan an experience, namely, an experience of the Absolute. And then, sinceboth myself and my experiences are nothing but experiences that belong tothe Absolute, how the difference between myself and my experiences is re-tained becomes problematic. Further, like Russell and Moore in the earlyyears of the last century, Aquinas would have objected to the doctrine of in-ternal relations which is implied by Hegelianism. For one thing, he wouldhave objected that that doctrine implies skepticism. If something is madewhat it is only in and through its relations to everything else in the one Sys-tem or Absolute, then the consequence seems to be that in order to know any-thing I must know everything. But since I am evidently not omniscient, it fol-lows that I do not know anything. Doubtless, an Hegelian would reply that allthe doctrine of internal relations implies is that I do not know what somethingis in any adequate or complete way unless I know how it interrelates witheverything else. It does not imply that I do not know it at all. But with Rus-sell and Moore, Aquinas would have insisted that knowing what at least somethings are is not a matter of degree. You either know them or you do not. Ei-ther I know what color, sound, and being hot or cold are or I do not. But I doknow what these things are even though I am ignorant of all the relations inwhich they stand to other things.

Finally, Aquinas would find any monism troublesome, be it the monism ofHegel, Spinoza, Parmenides or of any other philosopher. Unless the manyare completely swallowed up by the one (as Hegel complained was the casein the philosophy of Schelling), difference must be accounted for in anymetaphysical monism. But it is not so easy to see how this is done. In anyunity-in-difference that is a true and not just an aggregate unity, the one livesin the many making them what they are, somewhat the way in which a vinelives in its branches. The individual differences among the many must thenbe accounted for by something other than the one. For what explains thesameness of the many (i.e. the one) cannot simultaneously explain the indi-vidual differences that obtain among the many. By analogy, what accountsfor the sameness of myself and a hedgehog, namely, animal, evidently doesnot also account for the difference of rationality that separates me from thehedgehog. The difference falls outside the genus. But since in any monismthere is nothing outside the one, those same individual differences in the one

Introduction xiii

go unaccounted for. Either, therefore, all differences in the one are only ap-parent, making for a monism which, in Hegel’s words, is “a night in whichall cows are black”, or else, the self-identity of the many being retained inthe one, the individual differences that preserve that self-identity go unex-plained.

But besides being neither a materialist nor an idealist nor even a Cartesianbefore Descartes, Aquinas was also neither a Platonic realist nor a nominal-ist. On the issue of universals, he bypassed both these extreme views as wellas the more moderate position of conceptualism. Platonism, he says, confusesthe way something is with the way it is known while nominalism confuses theway something is known with the way it is. By carefully distinguishing know-ing and the known, conceptualism skirts these two opposed errors. That is itsstrength. But in their eagerness not to confuse the two orders, conceptualistsovershoot the mark. They so separate mind from reality that nothing in theone answers to anything in the other. And then knowledge of reality by mindbecomes impossible. Aquinas would have pointed to the philosophy of Kantas a case in point of this skeptical consequence of conceptualism. And so,leaving these three views behind, Aquinas adopts instead what has come to beknown as moderate realism on the question of universals. And in this he fol-lows Aristotle.

But to this Aristotelian realism he gives an Augustinian twist. Mention wasmade of the influence on Aquinas of Neo-Platonism as modified by St. Au-gustine. But Neo-Platonism is not Platonism. One difference between themcenters on the issue of universals. While Plato’s Ideas are self-subsistent en-tities, the Ideas of the Neo-Platonist Plotinus exist only in Mind or Nouswhich is the first emanation from ultimate Reality or the One. Taking his cuefrom Plotinus and giving it a Christian twist, St Augustine placed the Ideas inGod’s Mind. And in this, Aquinas follows Augustine. Plato was right thatthere are timeless Ideas but wrong in assuming that they enjoy independentexistence. They depend on God’s Mind and in that status Aquinas calls anyone of them universale ante rem.

Holding that universals have ontological status as divine Ideas is sufficientto exclude Aquinas from the camp of nominalism. For the latter deny onto-logical status of any sort to universals. But it is not sufficient to keep himfrom conceptualism. For under the latter universals exist only in minds. Whatkeeps Aquinas from conceptualism is his Aristotelian realism. This is his in-sistence that universal concepts in minds have a foundation in re in terms ofthe real similarity among spatial-temporal particulars as regards their essen-tial or accidental properties. But conceptualists deny that universals have anyfoundation whatsoever in reality. In their view mental universals answer tonothing in reality. And so it is that, like Aristotle, Aquinas gets between Pla-

xiv Introduction

tonism, nominalism and conceptualism on the issue of universals. But at thesame time and following St. Augustine, he departs from Aristotle by accord-ing ante rem status to universals in the Mind of God.

Aquinas, of course, was opposed to both atheism and agnosticism. He wasa theist who thought that theism could be proved by metaphysical argu-ments. These include but are not confined to the celebrated “five ways”.Moreover, he thought that the God that is proved by these arguments can beshown to be necessarily one, eternal, immaterial, simple and changeless.That means that Aquinas stands opposed not only to materialism but also tonaturalism, scientism, logical positivism and evolutionism. Naturalism is theview that nature or the world of space and time is a self-enclosed, self-ex-planatory system. As a result, it is unnecessary to posit anything transcen-dent, such as a God, a soul or a Platonic Form, in order to explain either na-ture itself or any thing, state or event in nature. From naturalism followsscientism or the view that there are no events, states or entities in space-timethat cannot in principle be fully explained by empirical science. As for evo-lutionism, it is defined as the view that all there is has been generated out ofpreviously existing things. Everything has been evolved from other thingsand is even now in the process of evolving into still other things, says theevolutionist. And as for logical positivism, since Aquinas allowed meaning-ful statements that were neither analytic nor empirically verifiable, he partscompany with logical positivists. Naturalism, scientism, logical positivism,evolutionism, and even Hegelianism are all falsified, Aquinas would argue,by the fact that it can be meaningfully and truly said that a transcendent, im-mutable God is both the creator and sustainer of all things. These philoso-phies are also falsified in his view by the existence of individual humansouls. Though immaterial in nature, the latter nonetheless explain some ob-servable human actions. Not just that, but they have not come to be by evo-lution. Instead, they are directly created by God. This he believed for philo-sophical as well as religious reasons. For he argues that only what is acomposite of matter and form can come to be by generation or evolution andthat the human soul is not such a composite but form alone. What is essen-tially simple is neither generated out of some previous thing nor corruptedinto some further thing. It can come to be only by creation and it can ceaseto be only by annihilation. This may sound more like Leibniz speaking aboutmonads than Aquinas talking about the human soul. But though no onewould foist on Aquinas either the theory of monads or a theory of mind-bodyparallelism (such as the pre-established harmony theory), nevertheless, onthe soul’s ingenerability and incorruptibility the two philosophers agree.Neither Aquinas nor Leibniz is a pan-evolutionist just because both believedin simple entities.

Introduction xv

From the foregoing, a general, if woefully negative and inadequate, pictureof Aquinas’s philosophy emerges. It is a philosophy that rejects one and all ofthe following positions: both identity and global materialism, mechanism,Cartesian dualism, epiphenomenalism, panpsychism, parallelism, rationalism(as opposed to existentialism in the sense specified), fatalism, atheism, ag-nosticism, both subjective and objective idealism, monism, Platonism, nomi-nalism, conceptualism, Kantianism, naturalism, scientism, logical positivism,evolutionism, and most forms of existentialism. Just how and why Aquinasends up in opposition to these as well as other views is seen only when, in apositive way, the details of his system are spelled out. Toward that end I be-gin with what Aquinas himself would consider an appropriate starting point,namely, change and its causes.

xvi Introduction

1

CHANGE, FLUX, AND SUCCESSION

Change is always change of something from something to something. It is ei-ther the generation of some form in a subject or the corruption of some formin a subject. Thus a leaf changes from green to brown in autumn. Since the‘of’ here signifies a substrate or thing-that-changes i.e. the leaf, change is notflux. The latter, if it exists, has been compared to a fast flowing stream. Here,it is alleged that nothing is the same from one moment to the next. There isno enduring substrate. From this comes the adage that one cannot step in thesame river twice. But unlike flux, change implies an enduring substrate.Change also differs in this respect from succession. One drop of water suc-ceeds another in a dripping faucet. That is evidently different from saying ei-ther that a stream of water flows continuously or that the water in the faucetbecomes warmer or cooler. Again, one flashing light succeeds another on apanel. That is not the same as saying either that a stream of colors occurs con-tinuously without interruption on the panel or that the panel itself changesfrom one color to another. In each case the first is succession, the second flux,and the third change.

Philosophers differ on which one, if any, of these is ultimately real. Is the realidentified with pure flux? If so, then change and succession are appearances ofthis flux. Are both flux and change appearances of succession? Are successionand flux both appearances of change? Are all three of them appearances ofsome deeper, changeless reality? Or are all three of them equally real?

Defenders of universal flux must explain the appearance of breaks in theflow. If all there is is a uniform flow, why does the flow appear to us to bestatic and chopped up both spatially and temporally? Either these breaks or

Chapter One

Change and Its Causes

stops in the flow belong to the flow or not. If they do, then reality is not a uni-form flux or flow after all. If they do not and the breaks or stops are intro-duced into the flow from without, then once again it follows that reality is notidentified with a uniform flow. For then something outside the flow interactswith the flow. And that means that reality is a dualism of flow and non-flowand not a monism of pure flow.

It might be countered that breaks in the flow are just the way the flow ap-pears to mind which, says Bergson, stops the flux through forming abstractideas for the sake of analysis.1 From this, though, it follows that mind or in-tellect does not know reality. And a flux philosopher like Bergson consis-tently draws that consequence. To the extent that it uses mind or intellect toknow the world, then, natural science is in principle defeated. For the ‘knowl-edge’ it achieves is not knowledge of the world at all but a distortion of theworld.

Yet one might question a philosopher like Bergson as regards the place ofintellect in the ubiquitous flow. For intellect, which stops the flow that char-acterizes reality, either belongs to that flow or not. Either it is part of realityor part of appearance. But either way spells trouble for the flux philosopher.If intellect, which distorts reality, is itself part of reality, then intellect distortsitself. And then the flux philosopher scarcely says without distortion that in-tellect stops or breaks up the uniform flow. But if intellect belongs to appear-ance, then it is something static or frozen. As such, it is the product of anotherintellect which, if it belongs to appearance, is the product of still another in-tellect and so on, ad infinitum. Along the same lines, the proposition that re-ality is a flux is a true proposition according to flux philosophers. But thatvery truth is either part of the flow or it is not. If so, then it is not really trueat all but forever passing into falsehood. If not, then truth belongs to appear-ance and not to reality. And then no flux philosopher makes true propositionsabout reality, including the proposition that reality is a flux.

CHANGE VERSUS CREATION AND ANNIHILATION

Besides being irreducible to either pure flux or mere succession, change alsoexcludes creation and annihilation. ‘Change’ means either generation or cor-ruption. All change or becoming is the coming to be of some new form (ac-cidental or essential) out of pre-existing matter. Since in any change theremust be a thing that changes, no change is pure flux. Moreover, the verymeaning of ‘change’ excludes creation.2 For change implies a pre-existingsubstance that was once one way and is now another. Prior to change there isa substance. But in creation there is no preexisting substance. Prior to creation

2 Chapter One

is nothing. Change, then, is evolution as opposed to creation or mere succes-sion, so long as it is understood that the new form that is evolved out of mat-ter is not necessarily higher or more perfect than its predecessor. For exam-ple, death is an example of a substantial change. It is also a case of a corpseevolving out of living matter, just as the living person herself at one timeevolved out of a fertilized egg. By contrast, creation is the production ofsomething all at once in its entirety i.e. out of no preexisting material. Thatoccurs when, in the view of Aquinas and others, God makes the world or anindividual human soul. And mere succession occurs when one event simplyfollows another without having been generated out of the latter. Thus, we saythat one marching band succeeds another in a parade or that one knock on adoor succeeds another. In both creation and succession there is no enduringsubstrate or thing-that-changes as there is in change or becoming.

Moreover, that change in the sense of generation or corruption occurs notonly in us but also in the external world philosophers like Aristotle andAquinas do not doubt. They do not employ anything like Cartesian doubtabout the external world. They take change as a datum and then ask what theconditions are under which alone it is possible. These conditions are broughtout by reviewing Aquinas’s account of how Aristotle answers the Par-menidean dilemma of change.3

THE DILEMMA OF CHANGE

Aquinas summarizes the celebrated Parmenidean dilemma as follows: if be-ing comes to be it comes to be either from being or from non-being. But be-ing does not come to be from being or else being already is and hence doesnot come to be. And being does not come to be from non-being since beingcannot come from nothing.4 So being does not come to be at all and allchange is illusory. When Socrates becomes musical, musical comes to be ei-ther from musical or from unmusical. But once again neither one is allowed.Musical does not come to be from musical or else it already is and hence doesnot come to be. And musical evidently does not come to be from unmusical,at least from the unmusical as such. So Socrates’ friends are wrong in believ-ing that Socrates has become musical. Aristotle’s celebrated way out takes offfrom the foregoing phrase, ‘just as such.’ Of course musical does not come tobe from unmusical as such or per se. Nothing comes to be from its privationper se. Otherwise Parmenides is right and we are saddled with saying thatsomething comes to be from nothing. But from this it does not follow thatmusical does not come to be from unmusical in any sense. Musical comes tobe from unmusical per accidens. What this means is that musical comes to be

Change and Its Causes 3

from unmusical in the sense that, that from which musical does come to beper se, i.e. Socrates, happens to be unmusical. Thus, change is made possibleonly by presupposing a substrate that perdures throughout. It is not that mu-sical comes to be from unmusical but that unmusical Socrates becomes mu-sical Socrates. And this substrate is a principle of potentiality with respect tothe new actuality (in this case being musical) that comes to characterize it.Thus, when Socrates becomes musical being does not come to be from non-being as such. And that is because being comes from something in which notall being is removed. This avoids the contradiction of saying that being comesto be from non-being since it is from non-being per accidens and not fromnon-being per se that being comes to be.5 Thus does one avoid the secondhorn of Parmenides’ fork.

Moreover, just as in any change being comes to be from non-being per ac-cidens and not per se (otherwise being comes from non-being), so too is ittrue that in all change being comes to be from being per accidens and notfrom being per se. Otherwise the first horn of Parmenides’ fork takes hold andbeing already is before it comes to be. When Socrates becomes musical, be-ing comes to be from being. Otherwise something comes from nothing. Butbeing here does not come to be from being as such but from being as havingin it some non-being or privation. When Socrates becomes musical beingdoes not come to be from being as such just because being here comes fromsomething in which not all non-being is removed. So being comes to be frombeing per accidens and not from being per se just as we saw that being comesto be from non-being per accidens and not from non-being per se.6 The mat-ter is conveniently summarized by saying that when Socrates becomes musi-cal it is not that musical comes to be from either musical or unmusical as suchbut that the composite thing, unmusical Socrates becomes the compositething, musical Socrates. Generally stated, when being comes to be it comesto be neither from being as such nor from non-being as such but from beingwith a privation and from non-being in a subject, respectively.7

Aquinas observes in this context that the same reply to Parmenides’ fork isexplained by the distinction between potency and act, as Aristotle indicates inthe Metaphysics.8 What he has in mind is this. We can deny both that actualbeing comes from actual being and that it comes from simple non-being bydistinguishing actual from potential being. For it can be said that actual beingcomes to be from potential being, which is neither actual being nor simplenon-being.9 We thus get between the horns of the dilemma. When Socratesbecomes musical, being comes to be from being in the sense that musicalSocrates comes to be from Socrates as potentially musical. Of course, noteverything is potentially musical. The potentialities a thing has evidently varywith the sort of thing it is. Potentialities are relative to actualities. A rock is

4 Chapter One

neither actually nor potentially musical. Being musical is not in a rock and thesense of ‘is not’ here is non-being pure and simple. That shows the differencebetween potential being and simple non-being. But when Socrates, who is notmusical, becomes musical, the sense of ‘is not’ here is non-actual or potentialbeing and not simple non-being.

The actuation of potentiality is a case of being coming to be from being peraccidens and not from being per se. For the being from which musical comesto be, Socrates, includes non-being. In Socrates is found the absence or pri-vation of musical. Further, that from which being musical comes to be, i.e.unmusical Socrates, does not remain after the change. But, says Aquinas, thatfrom which a being comes to be per se does remain after the change.10 Thus,Socrates and the form musical are that from which musical Socrates comes tobe per se since these two things, the matter and the form, remain after thechange.

THE SUBSTRATE OF CHANGE

Under this solution to the dilemma of change, change requires three princi-ples in the changeable object. These are matter or substrate, form, and priva-tion. In our example the matter is Socrates, the form is musical and the pri-vation is the lack of being musical in Socrates. But it is evident that Socrates,though substrate in this context, is not ultimate substrate. For Socrates him-self passes away as well as Socrates’ being unmusical, pale, seated, clothed,and so on. And when that happens, it is once again not a case of some newbeing coming to be from either being as such or simple non-being. It is a caseof being coming to be from being per accidens and from non-being per acci-dens. It is a case of some deeper substrate T behind Socrates losing the formof humanity and assuming the form of a corpse. It is a case of a more funda-mental principle of potentiality acquiring a new actuality. Otherwise we areon the horns of Parmenides’ fork again and change is excluded.

Let it be assumed, then, that all change requires an enduring substrate.Then if, like our first substrate, Socrates, the deeper substrate T is itself sus-ceptible of corruption, then a still deeper substrate U is required. And if forits part U is corruptible then an even more basic substrate V is required, andso on. If this goes on to infinity, then there is no ultimate substrate, i.e. no sub-strate that has not itself been generated out of a further substrate. Is that pos-sible? Aristotle and Aquinas say that it is not possible.11 Given that the notionof a substrate or matter enters into the definition of a changeable thing, it fol-lows that if there is no ultimate substrate then any one substrate, say, Socrates,is made up of an infinite number of logically prior substrates as conditions. If


Socrates came to be out of T and T came to be out of U and U came to be outof V and V came to be out of W, and so on, then Socrates contains T,U,V,Wand an infinite number of other substrates. But any whole that requires an in-finite number of parts cannot be. For the internal conditions necessary for itsexistence are never completed. All explanation goes back to primitive thingsor truths for which the quest for further explanation is senseless. Besides,what has an infinite number of principles is unknown.12 But if natural thingsare unknown then there is no natural science. Therefore, to explain the exis-tence of any one substrate like Socrates and to make science possible, an ul-timate substrate must be posited. This, of course, is a substrate which is notitself either generable or corruptible. With what is this ultimate substrate iden-tified?

PRIMAL MATTER AS ULTIMATE SUBSTRATE

As opposed to pre-Socratic natural philosophers, Aristotle denies that this ul-timate substrate is some actual physical thing like water, earth, air or fire. Andthis for at least two reasons. First, the view implies that everything in theworld is of the same sort. If Thales is right and the ultimate substrate is wa-ter, then all is water. That not only flouts our experience but it means thatwhat appears to be substantial change is really only alteration. It implies theoddity that when, for example, a tree burns into ashes only an accidentalchange occurs. Arboreal water becomes ashen water. Second, the view failsto explain difference. If all is water, what accounts for the different states thatwater takes on? The fact that something is arboreal water rather than ashenwater is evidently due to something besides water. But if there is nothing butwater, how is this difference possible? Nor does it help to relegate all differ-ences to appearance as opposed to reality. For something in reality must ac-count for the apparent differences. Unless they are illusory, these differencesmust be well-founded appearances. But that means that differences in realityaccount for differences in appearance. Otherwise the appearances are notwell-founded. But the trouble is, there cannot possibly be such differences inreality if reality is simply water.

It might be countered that while this tells against identifying the ultimatesubstrate with water, air, fire, etc., it does not exclude identifying it withthings about which both ancient and medieval philosophers were ignorant,namely, atoms (in the modern sense) or energy. Here again, since all changeis nothing but re-configuration of atomic (or of subatomic) particles or thetransition from one state of energy to another, it follows that all change is al-teration. But the difference makes no difference. For once again the problem

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is that no account is given of difference. At least this holds in the case of en-ergy. For suppose that all is energy. Then it is evidently not energy that ex-plains the different states of energy. That energy is in one state or of one typeinstead of being in another state or of another type is due to some differentiathat is outside the genus energy. By comparison, rationality, which separateshumans from brutes, is outside the genus animal. But if all is energy or en-ergy is the ultimate substrate, then there is nothing outside energy from whichany difference can come. So either the different states of energy are illusoryor else it is not the case that all is energy and hence that energy is the ultimatesubstrate.

The argument might be generalized such that it excludes identifying the ul-timate substrate with any actual thing whatsoever and not just with energy.Thus,

1. Suppose that the ultimate substrate behind all change is some actual thing, A.2. Then A is the widest genus.3. But since difference is outside genus, then all difference within A is due to

something other than A.4. So, either the ultimate substrate is not identified with some actual thing A,

or else there is another actual thing, B, that causes the differences in A.5. But if the latter is true, then, in causing differences to come to be in A, B must

move from potentially causing those differences to actually causing them.6. In this latter change, B is not only itself a substrate, but it is also a substrate

that does not include, and hence is independent of, the supposed ultimatesubstrate. Otherwise B is not something other than A as is stated in 2.

7. But no substrate is independent of the supposed ultimate substrate. For bydefinition, the ultimate substrate is behind all substrata and all change.

8. Therefore, 1 above is false and the supposed ultimate substrate is not iden-tified with some actual thing.

But an even broader reason bars any actual thing, be it energy, atoms, etc.from serving as the ultimate substrate or substrata in change. It is based onthe logical relations of genus, difference and species. Genus is the abstractionfrom difference which is related to genus as act to potentiality. Thus, animalis the abstraction from the difference rational with respect to the species hu-man. But any genus is wider or narrower according as it is abstracted frommore or less difference. Thus, organism is wider than animal since it abstractsnot only from the difference rational but also from the difference sentient. Itfollows that the widest genus, substance, is the abstraction from all differ-ence. It is potentiality to all difference. Otherwise the widest genus is notgenus alone but a composite of genus and difference. And then, since the


composite of genus and difference is species and species falls under genus, itfollows that some genus is wider than the supposed widest genus. But genusis taken from matter (potentiality) while difference is taken from form (actu-ality). Therefore, the widest genus, substance, signifies ultimate matter orsubstrate. It is matter as abstracted from all specificity or form. This is primalmatter or substrate which, because it must be potential to all form (act), is inand of itself bereft of any form (act). So unless the logic of genus, differenceand species is abandoned, the ultimate substrate is identified with no actualthing like water, air, atoms or even energy, but with the pure potentiality of athing to be the kind of thing it is or to become a different kind of thing. Thus,

1. Suppose that there is no widest genus but that for any genus g, there is awider genus, g + 1.

2. Then any one genus is composed of an infinite number of genera as logi-cal conditions.

3. But an infinite number of logical conditions cannot be met.4. So if 1 is true, then no genus has determinate sense and so is indefinable.5. But some genera are definable.6. Therefore, 1 is false and there is a widest genus.7. This highest genus is genus alone without difference; otherwise it is a

species of a wider genus and so is not the widest genus.8. But genus is taken from matter and difference from form.9. Therefore, corresponding to the widest genus, substance, is matter without

form, i.e. primary matter.

A DIFFICULTY WITH SUBSTANCE

But right here a difficulty surfaces about substance. If genus is taken frommatter, then the widest genus signifies ultimate or primary matter. But thewidest genus is substance. Therefore substance is ultimate or primary matter.But in the Categories, Aristotle identifies substance not with matter but withthe composite of matter and form, say, a particular tree. True, in one respectthe two are similar. For neither one is predicable of a subject. In that respectthey both differ from form which is predicable. But they differ as the com-posite differs from the simple. This particular tree is not present in somethingelse the way in which primal matter is present in it. And so the question is oneof consistency. How can substance be identified both with matter and with thecomposite of matter and form?

The answer is that in Aristotle and Aquinas, as in Descartes and Locke fourcenturies later, ‘substance’ is not an univocal term. In the view of Aquinas,

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‘substance’ refers either to God or to creatures. Here, ’substance’ has the gen-eral sense of being essentially independent, i.e of being neither present in norpredicable of something. But even here substance as predicated of God andsubstance as predicated of creatures is not the same. For since God is his ownact of existence while creatures are not, essential independence in God incor-porates but goes beyond essential independence in creatures. Second, amongcreated things, substance sometimes refers to form, sometimes to matter, andsometimes to the composite of form and matter both. Here, ‘substance’ hasthe sense of being susceptible of form, of being subject. Matter, for example,is by definition the potentiality for form in the sense of species. As for formin the sense of species, it is for its part something that is susceptible of fur-ther (accidental) form. Thus, it can be said of a human being that it is the sortof thing that is risible. Further, in accidental change it is form as species thatis the enduring subject of the change. And finally, as regards the composite ofmatter and form, it is once again something that is susceptible of further (ac-cidental) form. Thus, Socrates who is now standing may later be seated. In allthree cases the common element is the idea of being subject with respect tospecificity or form. But of these three entities, matter alone is susceptible ofall specificity or form. For in and of itself it has no form. It follows that ‘sub-stance’ in this second sense belongs most properly to ultimate or primary mat-ter. And it is substance in this sense of ultimate matter or substrate that is sig-nified by the highest genus.

Care must be taken not to identify this primary matter or substrate ofAquinas and Aristotle with Locke’s celebrated idea of substance in general.True, both of them are ultimate substrata. And Locke’s characterization ofsubstance in general as “something I know not what” invites the conclusionthat it is one with primary matter in being formless. After all, what Berkeleyseizes upon in his criticism of Locke is true, namely, that what the latter callsthe general idea of substance does not have attributes of its own. For it standsbeneath all attributes. Locke’s substance, then, is bare or characterless justlike primary matter.

But despite these similarities, at least two differences separate the two no-tions. First, Locke’s substance is evidently substance in the first of the twosenses mentioned above. It is independent in that it is neither present in norpredicable of something else. By contrast, we saw that primary matter is,along with form, always present in some physical thing as one of its princi-ples. So in the sense in which Locke’s substance is independent, Aristotle’sprimary matter is dependent. Second, while it is bereft of attributes of its own,Locke’s substance is none the less (and curiously) an actual thing. But pri-mary matter is no actual thing at all but just the potentiality in a thing to bewhat it is or to become something else.


MATTER AS INGENERABLE AND INCORRUPTIBLE

Finally, as to the question of the origin of primary matter, the answer is thatit has no origin, if by ‘having an origin’ it is meant being generated out ofsomething. For primary matter is ingenerable and incorruptible13 As theground of all generation and corruption, primary matter is not itself eithergenerated or corrupted. Otherwise primal matter exists both before it is gen-erated and after it is corrupted. For it is clear from the foregoing analysis ofchange that all generation is generation out of matter and that all corruptionis corruption into matter. Yet that leaves open the possibility that primary mat-ter is created, since creation is not generation. Thus, while Aquinas is onewith Aristotle in denying that matter is generated, he refuses to follow Aris-totle’s view that matter is eternal. For the other possibility is that it is created.And while Aquinas denies that the creation of matter in or with time can beproved, he none the less believes that it is true as an article of faith.

THE FOUR CAUSES

From the preceding assay of change in terms of matter, form, and privationthe celebrated theory of the four causes emerges. Aristotle views each one ofthe four causes as being necessary but not sufficient conditions of change.Two of these four causes, the formal and material causes, are identified withform and matter respectively, the two per se principles of change. They arecalled pe se principles because they remain after any given change whereasthe privation does not. In any case, ‘matter’ here has the sense of substrate orthat which changes from one thing to another. This as opposed to three othersenses of ‘matter’ which Aquinas, for one, distinguishes. These are a) that ofwhich something is made (as a chair is made of wood), b) that from whichsomething comes (as an oak comes from an acorn) or c), that into whichthings dissolve, as living bodies dissolve into dust.14

In any case, it is easy to see how the other two causes, i.e. the efficient andfinal causes, are also extracted from change. As for the efficient cause, some-thing x is reduced from a state of being potentially F to a state of being actu-ally F only by something else which acts on x. Stone goes from potentiallybeing Athene to actually being Athene by the action Phidias. Hume’s billiardball goes from potentially moving to actually moving by the stroke of the bil-liard-player. These activities of Phidias and the billiard-player are examplesof efficient causality. And in ordinary discourse it is with activities like thisthat causes are usually identified. Moreover, when they are either agents orthe instruments of agents, these moving or efficient causes are themselves

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spoken of as being either potential or actual. Thus, Phidias and the billiard-player are the potential efficient causes while Phidias-qua-sculpturing and theplayer-qua-striking-the-ball are the actual efficient causes of the coming to beof Athene and the ball’s movement, respectively. Thus, when they are eitheragents or instruments of agents, actual efficient causes are always simultane-ous with their effects while potential efficient causes are not. Phidias existslong before the coming to be of Athene but the actual efficient cause, i.e.Phidias-qua-sculpturing Athene both begins with the coming to be of Atheneand ceases with the completion of Athene.

EFFICIENT CAUSE

For their part, acting efficient causes may be either primary or secondary.Secondary efficient causes are instrumental efficient causes when the primaryefficient cause is a person. The stick’s impact on the ball is the secondary orinstrumental efficient cause of the ball’s moving down the table while the bil-liard-player who directs the stick’s motion against the ball is evidently the pri-mary efficient cause of the movement. Such an hierarchical causal series inwhich instrumental causes are subordinated to a primary efficient cause ex-emplifies what Aquinas calls a causal series per se. That is because it is es-sential to the causal action of the instrumental efficient cause in the series thatit be caused by something else. Thus, since the stick moves the ball only be-cause it is itself moved by the player, it is essential and not accidental to thecausal action of the stick that it is moved by the player. And Aquinas deniesthat there can be an infinite regress of efficient causes that are per se requiredfor any effect or change. Otherwise the change does not occur. In causalchains of this sort, the absence of a first mover implies the absence of anyother mover and hence of the effect.

Aquinas also admits non-hierarchical series or what he calls causal seriesper accidens. These are temporal or historical chains of efficient causes. Thereis no subordination of secondary causes to a primary cause. Instead, the causesline up horizontally, so to speak. Thus, a paramecium, P, generates an off-spring, R, which in time generates another offspring, T, and so on. Here it isaccidental and not essential to T qua generating that T was previously gener-ated by R. True, T must have been itself generated in order for it now to gen-erate. But it is not essential but accidental to T’s now generating that it wasgenerated by R. It is not like the case of the stick that moves only because it isbeing moved. Otherwise one must say that P is more properly the cause of Tthan R is, and that is counterintuitive. And when it comes to this kind of causalseries, a causal series per accidens, Aquinas does not rule out the possibility


of an infinite regress of efficient causes.15 For here, unlike the case of a per secausal series, no member of the series depends for its causal action on its be-ing caused by another agent’s action. It does not move only because it is si-multaneously being moved by another. Each one is a mover in its own right.And just because of that, each one’s action is sufficient for its effect in thesense that it does not require a further action working simultaneously behindit. But it was stated that according to Aquinas the only reason why in a per seseries a first efficient cause must be posited is that otherwise there is no suffi-cient reason for the effect. For a sufficient efficient cause is then lacking. Butsince any arbitrarily selected cause in a per accidens causal series is a suffi-cient efficient cause of its effect, it follows that in such a series it is not neces-sary to arrive at a first efficient cause.

In fact, it seems that positing an absolutely first efficient cause in such a se-ries is impossible. For suppose that there is such a cause, F. Then somethingmust move F from being a potential efficient cause to being an actual one. Forsince the members of a per accidens causal series are not always causing theireffects, they are moved to do so by another. And under the Aristotelian-Thomistic account of change, that can only be another efficient cause. But inthat case F is not an absolutely first efficient cause after all.

Nor can there be in a per accidens causal series any such thing as an ab-solutely first change or an absolutely last change. For suppose that there is anabsolutely first change, G, in some subject, S. Then under the Aristotelian ac-count of change, G requires an efficient cause or mover, M. But in causing Gin S, M itself goes from potentially moving S to actually moving S, and thischange is evidently prior to G. Hence, if there is an absolutely first change Gin a subject S, then there is a change before the supposed first change and thatis contradictory. Therefore, there is no absolutely first change in any string ofcauses in which the causation of one member is only incidentally or acciden-tally the cause of the causation of another member.

A similar argument excludes there being in such a series an absolutely lastchange. For suppose that there is an absolutely last change L in some subjectS. Then either some further change L+1occurs in S or not. If so, then L is ev-idently not the absolutely last change. If not, then L is still not the absolutelylast change. For S’s ceasing to change after the supposed last change L is it-self a change. For up to and including the occurrence of L, S is a mobile be-ing. But if L is the absolutely last change, then after the occurrence of L S isno longer a mobile being. And this change from S’s being a mobile being toS’s not being a mobile being is evidently a change after the supposed lastchange L. It follows that there can no more be an absolutely last change in acausal series per accidens than there can be an absolutely first change.Change always occurs in the material universe. But from that it does not fol-

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low that the latter is eternal. For it is possible that the world along with itscontinuous change is created and creation, as was said, is not change.

FINAL CAUSE

But what about the final cause? Is it true that any change requires a final causewhich is the end or purpose for which the change occurs? While this mightnot be disputed in cases where the efficient cause is a person, it might and hasbeen disputed in so-called natural changes i.e. in changes in nature that occurindependently of us human beings. I act for an end in walking, i.e. for the sakeof health, but do the activities in animals and plants occur for the sake of anend, not to mention the events that take place in non-living things? In short,is there purpose in nature, quite apart from human purpose?

Explicit and direct arguments in behalf of natural purpose appear inAquinas’s Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics. There, Aquinas recounts withapproval five arguments of Aristotle in Physics Book II (198b 34–199a 33).None of these arguments appear to be conclusive and none of them are asstrong as one which is implicit in Aristotle’s account of efficient causality.This latter argument will be considered subsequently.

In any case, the first argument proceeds as follows. All natural changes oc-cur either in all or in most instances. But nothing that occurs by chance oc-curs either in all or in most instances. Thus, we do not say that it happens bychance that heat occurs during the dog days. But everything that happens hap-pens either by chance or for the sake of an end. Therefore, all natural changesoccur for the sake of an end. Here, one might challenge the last premise of theargument. Why should it be assumed that the disjunct exhausts all possibili-ties? For it seems that something might occur by physical necessity instead ofby chance or by design.

The second argument is this. As something is done naturally, so is it dis-posed to be done and vice versa. But things that happen naturally happen insuch a way as to lead to an end in the sense of an a final result. Therefore, as-suming that there are no impediments, things that happen naturally happen insuch a way that they are disposed to be done. But to be disposed to be doneis to be done for the sake of an end. Therefore, change in nature occurs forthe sake of an end.

As to the second premise, Aquinas gives an example. In the growth oftrees, first comes the roots, then the trunk, and finally the branches on top. Artfollows nature in this temporal priority. In house-building, first comes thefoundation, then the walls, and finally the roof. In each case one stage followsanother until a final result is reached.


One might here challenge the first premise. Why should it be true that be-cause things in fact occur in nature in a certain order, that they are disposedto occur in that order? Aquinas might answer that the fact that they regularlydo occur in a certain order excludes their occurring by chance. Even so, itdoes not follow from this that they are a priori disposed to occur the way theydo, i.e. that they occur by design. Once again, the assumption behind the ar-gument seems to be that things occur in nature either by chance or by designand that there is no third alternative.

Third, some things are produced by art but not by nature and vice versa.Thus, a house is produced by art but not by nature while a tree is produced bynature but not by art. However, in those things that are produced both by artand by nature (e.g. health) art imitates nature. As nature heals by heating ancooling, so too does art. But things made by art are made for the sake of anend. Therefore, things made by nature are made for the sake of an end.

Even if one assumes that some things are made both by art and by natureand that in such cases art imitates nature, the question still remains as towhether, in such cases, art in all respects imitates nature. Only if that as-sumption is made does the argument succeed.

The fourth argument runs as follows. Since some animals always act in thesame way, it is clear that they do not act either through art, inquiry, or delib-eration. For what acts through art, inquiry, or deliberation acts through intel-ligence. But what acts through intelligence does not always act in the sameway. Thus, not every builder builds a house in the same way. But spiders,ants, bees, birds, etc. always make things in the same way. That is whatprompts some to believe that they do act through intelligence. Therefore,since the actions of such animals are evidently for the sake of an end but arenot due to intelligence, they are due to nature. But in that case it follows thatnature acts for the sake of an end.

To this it might be objected that the supposed fact that some animals al-ways act in the same way excludes their acting from intelligence does not im-ply that nature acts for the sake of an end. For it is possible that these animalsalways act in the same way because they act out of natural necessity and notbecause they act for an end.

The fifth and last argument turns on the definition of nature. Nature signi-fies either the matter or the form. But the form is the end of generation andthe nature of an end is that other things come to be for the sake of it. There-fore, to be and to come to be for the sake of something is found in naturalthings.

It is difficult to see how this argument escapes begging the question. If theform that is generated out of matter in any change is simply defined as the endof that generation, then it must be true that things in nature occur for the sake

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of an end. But by what warrant is the end-result of a natural change identifiedwith an end in the sense of a goal or target?

But as was mentioned, a more promising argument for natural purposemight be culled from examining the interrelation of the four causes. To seehow it goes, I begin with purpose in us and then consider purpose in nature.

Philosophers and scientists generally deny natural purpose. They say thatthe latter was previously used to explain what was later found to be entirelycovered by efficient causes. That suggests that present and future natural phe-nomena will be likewise explained, again making final causes unnecessary.Besides, “explanation” by final cause is empirically unverifiable and henceunscientific. It is therefore metaphysical explanation and this has long sincebeen abandoned. So joining induction, Ockham’s Razor and the principle ofverifiability, contemporary scientists and philosophers can only shun naturalpurpose.

Yet classical pragmatists like James and Dewey were right that at least inus, purpose is central. It links or stands between our choices and actions. Thisinvolves a reciprocity whereby ends are both causes and effects. They arecauses of action though effects of choice. They thus get between and connectthe two. If I am bent on building a skiff, I scan various models before choos-ing one of them. Then I start to replicate it in wood. Choosing that model overits rivals makes it an end or goal. Before my choice, the other patterns as wellas the chosen one are possible ends only. Since it is my choice of the latterthat makes it an actual end, that choice is the efficient cause of the selectedmodel’s becoming an end. So the efficient cause is the cause of some pattern’sbecoming a final cause. Yet the chosen model or pattern is clearly the finalcause of the subsequent efficient cause of my building the skiff. It is that forthe sake of which I build. So while a prior efficient cause makes some forma final cause, the latter instigates a subsequent efficient cause, thus making fora reciprocity between efficient and final causes.

The subsequent efficient cause temporally follows and depends on its pred-ecessor. After all, I choose to build before I build. Moreover, the choice con-ditions the action and might even exist without it. I might choose to build butlater face unseen obstacles. But there is no action without the choice. Since Ibuild because I choose and not vice versa, the choice is the first and the ac-tion the second efficient cause of the end, in this case, the skiff. And the twoare tied by a final cause, in this case, my chosen model or pattern.

In this mutual causal activity the end or final cause is necessary for boththe being and connection of the two efficient causes. It is nonsense to say thatI choose a model to build unless that model is by that choice made the end ofmy building. And since all action is for the end, if no model is end then nobuilding begins. As for the linkage, how does my choosing a model to build


instigate my building it unless that model pre-exists my action as target?Here, as in all cases of human operations, two successive efficient causes,choice and action, are linked only by a final cause.

Moreover, that choice and action are tied via a cause of a different kindavoids a regress. As soon as I choose one of the plans, my building becomesa live possibility. I now become bent on building. What ties my choice tomy building, actualizing the bent, is not a third event or efficient causestanding between the other two, i.e. the choice and the action. Otherwise afourth event is needed to join the third to the events it ties, and so on. Tobypass this regress and actuate my tendency to build, therefore, two condi-tions must be met. First, the tie must be something actual like the events itties. For only the actual realizes the possible. Second, though actual, the tiemust be a different kind of cause than the events it ties if the regress is tobe blocked. Both conditions are satisfied when the tie is identified with mychosen ideal pattern which, as end, elicits my building. Thus, reason andcommon sense both require final causes to link the efficient causes ofchoice and action in all our activities. Choice, action and end thus comprisean interrelated causal triad.

TELEOLOGY IN NATURE

Nevertheless, bracketing human choices and actions, does this causal triadappear in nature?16 True, modern philosophers either deny natural purposeoutright or else they doubt that we can know whether or not nature is telic.But is it really true that this triad is never found in nature? Can it be said thatclaims to the contrary only amount to anthropomorphism, i.e. to foisting ontonature our own human ways and means of organizing our world? If so, thenAristotle is guilty of putting the cart before the horse. It is not art and craftwhich copy nature; it is nature which we falsely construe as copying art andcraft.

Even so, reflection shows that Aristotle and his medieval follower Aquinashad a case. That nature can plausibly be said to exemplify our triad is indicatedby reproduction. Consider a paramecium (call it m) which as the result ofgrowth changes reaches full maturity. The maturation of m inclines it towardreproductive changes just as my choosing a skiff-model inclines me towardskiff-building. What happens is that m develops a new mouth and gullet andthese break off from the old ones. In what is called the anastage, its micronu-cleus develops two sets of chromosomes at its two ends. The two offspring mi-cronuclei in the telophase become separated and move toward m’s two poles.In addition, m’s macronucleus grows along m’s length and then splits into two

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offspring macronuclei. These then move away from each other. Next m beginsto narrow around the middle, eventually splitting in two and spawning a newparamecium, p.17 So two paramecia, m and p, are produced in the end, eachone having its own mouth, gullet, micronucleus and macronucleus.

In all of this, it is as if m’s reproductive changes happen in order to repli-cate m’s very form. And yet from Galileo to modern biology this prima faciepurpose has been denied, and philosophers and scientists have assayed m’ssplitting in terms of efficient causes alone. In any mature paramecium regu-lar changes precede and occasion its splitting. m’s growth changes mechani-cally explain its reproductive changes and the latter also mechanically occa-sion the appearance of p by binary fission or by m’s splitting. It is, they say,unjustified to claim that m aims at its own form, or in other words that the ma-ture form of paramecium in m elicits m’s reproductive changes as an end elic-its the means to that end. This alleged design in nature is a relic of outdatedmetaphysics. Instead, m’s reproductive changes are due in their entirety to aseries of antecedent efficient causes which act from behind to produce p.

And yet, does not this one-sided mechanism spawn a vicious regress? Thematuration of m makes it liable to reproduce just as my choice of a skiff-model sets me to building it. Yet what joins the growth to the reproductivechanges, thus actualizing the latter, is no third event or events, standing be-tween the other two. For then a fourth is needed to link the third to the eventsit ties, and so on. Once again, this regress is dodged only by linking thegrowth and reproductive changes with a link of a different ontological kind.That is no event or efficient cause like the growth and reproductive changesit joins but the mature form or nature of paramecium which, as end, elicits m’sreproductive changes as means.

It might be countered that nothing to begin with is needed to tie the growthchanges in m to its reproductive changes. For the former suffice for the latter.The supposed regress being blocked at its source, therefore, the argument forfinal causes unravels. And with this, Ockham’s Razor is served too sincetypes of causes in nature are not unnecessarily multiplied.

This objection contains a nugget of truth. While no third event or efficientcause ties m’s growth changes to its reproductive changes, still, to say thatnothing whatsoever ties the two implies that the reproductive changes, whichlie dormant in the maturation of m, actuate themselves. But that is unaccept-able. Events like m’s growing a second mouth and gullet, its micronucleimoving to either one of its poles, the elongation of its macronucleus, etc., re-side in m as live options once m attains maturity via its successive growthchanges. By analogy, my building the skiff exists in me as a live option onceI choose its model as over against others. But in each case the live option re-mains just a possibility unless and until it is actualized. But it is in each case


actualized only by what is behind and common to the sets of events in ques-tion, i.e. the growth and reproductive changes in the one case and my choos-ing and building in the other. This link or mediator is no event or efficientcause but an intelligible form or pattern taken as final cause from which thesets of events in each case issue.

In both cases, the connection works like this. The effect in question is anevent, i.e. the skiff’s coming-to-be and p’s coming-to-be. The two efficientcauses in the first are my choosing the skiff as model and my replicating it inwood. The two efficient causes in the second case are m’s maturation and itsensuing reproductive activities. In the first case what ties the two is the idealmodel of the skiff in me which, by my choosing it, becomes the target of mybuilding. This serves as a go-between, joining my choice and my building.This it can do because it is behind them both and internal to the agent. BeforeI choose the skiff, the latter is just one among other models, none of whichhave yet become my goal. But no sooner do I choose the model of the skiffthan the latter becomes attractive, instigating my building-process. It is thesame form that is behind both my choice and my building. One only choosesand builds what one knows. In this way, three causes occur successively,forming a triad of unity amid diversity. The ideal model of the skiff conditionsmy choosing it. For I choose only what I know. That choice in turn gives thatideal model the status of a goal or end. Finally, that same ideal pattern as endelicits my building as means. Thus are two moving or efficient causes con-nected by a final cause, making a systematic or integrated causal triad.

The same holds for m’s birthing p. The form or essence of m is the condi-tion of the growth changes that occur in m before m’s reproductive changes.The former are what make the form or nature of paramecium in m the end orgoal of the latter. Thus do formal and efficient causes jointly exemplify a thor-oughgoing reciprocity. No sooner does m mature than the form of parame-cium in m takes on attractiveness, drawing out of m the reproductive changesthat were mentioned. The latter, then, occur for the sake of reproducing thatform. Similarly, no sooner do I choose the model of the skiff than the latterbecomes a magnet, drawing out of me the process of building. And onceagain, the latter occurs for the sake of reproducing that form or model. Thedifference is that in the former case the pre-existing form is in re whereas inthe latter it is in mente. But in each case does the first efficient cause causethe pre-existing form to become an end or final cause. Just as, once chosen,the form of the skiff in me becomes the goal of my building, so too does thenature of paramecium in m become the goal of m’s reproductive changes oncem’s the growth changes occur. When in each case the one efficient cause oc-curs, the nature or form, which already pre-exists in the agent, becomes agoal, drawing out of the agent the other efficient cause or activity which is

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means to that goal. These are my building and m’s reproductive changes, re-spectively. Thus is that nature or form a final cause, bridging the two othercauses. And in each case, the result of this systematic causal triad is the repli-cation of that same pre-existing nature or form.

To sum up the foregoing account, while in each case the first efficient causeconverts a form into an end to start with, it is the second efficient cause thatrealizes that end in matter. And while the second efficient cause realizes thefinal cause in matter, the final cause for its part initiates that causality. Exer-cising makes for fitness, observes Aristotle, and fitness makes for exercis-ing.18 He might have said instead that in human carpentry building makes fora skiff but that a skiff makes for building. And in nature as opposed to humanaffairs, he might have said instead that splitting makes for paramecium andthat paramecium makes for splitting. Only by positing this causal triad inwhich a final cause stands between two efficient causes do we explain theself-same phenomenon in art and nature both, namely, that pre-existing formsor patterns of all sorts are reproduced in new particulars.

OBJECTION: FINAL CAUSE AS SELF-CONTRADICTORY

Opponents of this analysis might object that the idea of a final cause is contra-dictory. A final cause both conditions the activity of the efficient cause and isthe result of that activity. It is thus at the same time both logically prior to thatactivity and consequent upon it. It is both the condition of the agent’s activityand conditioned by that activity. Thus, as the target of his sculpturing, Athenein Phidias’ mind directs his sculpturing as a model directs the thing modeled. Itthus logically (as well as temporally) precedes his action. In this way does thefinal cause cause the efficient cause, as was said. But since in another sense theend or goal of Phidias’ sculpturing is evidently the completed Athene and notPhidias’ preconception of it, Phidias’ sculpturing logically (and temporally)precedes the final cause. The efficient cause thus causes the final cause.

The clash is no less apparent in supposed non-human final causes. Theform of a paramecium in the budding paramecium determines as an end thereproductive activities that produce a new paramecium. As final cause, thatform logically (and temporally) precedes those activities. Once again, the fi-nal cause is the cause of the efficient cause. But since the natural end or goalof those activities is the production of a new paramecium it can be said thatthose same activities logically (and temporally) precede the supposed finalcause and not the other way around.

The objection, therefore, is that invoking final causality to solve the forego-ing dilemma of efficient causes is implausible. The cure, so it seems, is worse


than the illness. Only if this prima facie contradiction in the idea of a finalcause is resolved is the solution viable. But the question is, how is it resolved?How can final causes both condition and be conditioned by efficient causes?

THE OBJECTION ANSWERED

The answer to this goes back to the dual status of a final cause. Any finalcause is both first and last in different respects. It is both form as plan andform as realization of a plan. As the former it is first while as the latter it islast. Form as plan always exists in the agent and explains as an end the agent’sactivities. Thus, the model of Athene exists intelligibly in Phidias, directinghis activities as an end toward which he works. Form as realization of a plan,however, always exists in the end-result or product and is explained by theagent’s activities instead of explaining them. Thus, the form of the completedAthene exists in stone and is explained by the sculpturing of Phidias. As planin the agent, a final cause is the cause of the efficient cause; as realization ofa plan in the product, a final cause is the effect of the efficient cause. Since itis not the same respect in which ‘final cause’ is taken each time, no contra-diction accrues.

The same is true in non-human causes. As plan, the form of a parameciumexists in the budding paramecium, directing its activities as an end to the re-alization of that same form in something else. The latter is this time not stone,of course, but primal matter. But as realization of a plan, the form of a para-mecium exists in the offspring paramecium and is explained by the activitiesof the budding or agent-paramecium. The point is that since it is not the verysame thing that conditions the agent’s activities and that is conditioned bythose activities, the alleged contradiction evaporates. What conditions thoseactivities is the form as such taken apart form either real or psychological ex-istence. Thus, what conditions Phidias’ sculpturing as end or final cause isneither the actual Athene nor an idea (in the sense of a mental entity) ofAthene in Phidias’ mind. For the former does not yet exist and the latter is notthat for the sake of which Phidias sculptures. Phidias evidently does not workin order to produce a mental entity. What conditions Phidias’ activities is in-stead a certain form of Athene taken just as such apart from any real or men-tal being it has. But what is conditioned or made by Phidias’ activities is thereal Athene, i.e. not the form of Athene as such but the form of Athene as re-alized in stone.

The same applies to our agent-paramecium, m. What conditions m’s activ-ities as end or final cause is neither the new paramecium p nor an idea in thesense of a mental entity in m’s mind. For the former does not yet exist and the

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latter, even if it did exist, is not that for the sake of which m generates. Evenif the latter had a mind in which the idea of a paramecium existed as a model,it is evidently not for the sake of reproducing that mental entity that m gener-ates. What conditions m’s activities is instead the form of paramecium takenas such apart from any real or psychological being it has. But what is condi-tioned or made by m’s activities is not the form or species of paramecium assuch but a real or existent paramecium, i.e. its offspring, p. Since, therefore,it is not the same thing that conditions and that is conditioned in each case,the supposed contradiction vanishes and the objection is answered.

Thus, the relation between efficient and final causes is one of reciprocity.The efficient cause is cause of the final cause and the final cause is the causeof the efficient cause, though in different respects. Concurring with Aristotle,Aquinas states,

. . . The efficient cause is the cause of the final cause inasmuch as it makes thefinal cause be, because by causing motion the efficient cause brings about the fi-nal cause. But the final cause is the cause of the efficient cause, not in the sensethat it makes it be, but inasmuch as it is the reason for the causality of the effi-cient cause. For an efficient cause is a cause inasmuch as it acts, and it acts onlybecause of the final cause. Hence, the efficient cause derives its causality fromthe final cause. . .19

Aquinas goes on to say that the final cause is not only the cause of thecausality of the efficient cause but that it is also the cause of the causality ofall the causes. For the efficient cause is the cause of the causality of the mat-ter and the form. It is the agent that makes a certain form exist in matter. Thus,Phidias makes the form of Athene exist in stone. In so doing he causes thatform as well as matter (the stone) to be causes of the statue. Assuming, then,the transitivity of the causal relation, if the final cause is the cause of thecausality of the efficient cause and the efficient cause is the cause of thecausality of the matter and form, then it follows that the final cause is thecause of all the causes.20 Hence the priority and centrality of final causationin the metaphysics of Aristotle and Aquinas.

TWO FURTHER OBJECTIONS

Nevertheless, dissolving the foregoing alleged contradiction in this way oc-casions two more objections to the foregoing notion of final causation. First,it might be alleged that the belief that in nature effects pre-exist in their effi-cient causes is simply wrong. But that shows that the idea that final causationis required for efficient causation is false. For the idea of the pre-existence of


the effect in the efficient cause comes from making the latter subserve the fi-nal cause. True, the form of our generated paramecium p pre-exists in thegenerating paramecium m where it functions as plan. But this is far from be-ing generally true.

Thus, take the case of the fertilizing of a hen’s egg. Here, the actual effi-cient cause is the chicken sperm qua penetrating the egg. The effect, achicken zygote, is, in the view of Aquinas, that for the sake of which the ac-tivity of the sperm occurs. The development of the zygote in turn has a fur-ther end, i.e. the mature chicken. Yet, that seems to compromise the Aris-totelian account of the relation of final and efficient cause. For that assaystipulates that the likeness of the form of the effect pre-exists in the agent orefficient cause. But that is evidently untrue in this case. The form of the ef-fect is that of a chicken zygote while the form of the agent is that of a chickensperm. True, the zygote is potentially in the egg prior to the sperm’s activity.But the zygote does not pre-exist in the sperm. Or again, consider an acornfrom which an oak sprouts. Here the final cause is the oak-shoot and the im-mediate moving or efficient cause is some change in the acorn. Yet the like-ness of the form of oak, which is the form of the thing made, once again failsto pre-exist in the efficient cause or agent. Yet it would have to do so if, un-der the doctrine of the four causes, an efficient cause in nature is always di-rected by a final cause. How would Aristotle or Aquinas answer these primafacie counterexamples to the principle that, in nature as well as in art, the like-ness of the effect pre-exists in the efficient cause?

Second, one might challenge final causation with the following dilemma.Either a supposed final cause pre-exists the efficient cause or not. If it does,then it already exists and hence is not something toward the realization ofwhich the efficient cause acts. If it does not, then it can hardly direct the ac-tivity of the efficient cause as end or goal. How would Aquinas answer thesetwo objections?

REPLY TO THESE OBJECTIONS

As to the first objection, Aquinas has an answer. It is that the principle must beinterpreted more broadly. In nature as in art, a likeness of the thing to be madedoes always pre-exist in the agent. But it need not be a simple likeness ofspecies. Instead, it might be a likeness of genus or, even more remotely, a like-ness of analogy.21 It might also be a likeness of species inclusively speaking,i.e. in that the same species enters into the definition of both agent and effect.

In the case of a paramecium, it is a simple likeness of species. By splittingm produces p. By a simple likeness, the species of p pre-exists in m. In the

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case of the chicken zygote, the likeness is one of genus. But it is also indi-rectly one of species. The likeness of the genus of chicken zygote, organism,does pre-exist in the chicken sperm. But the likeness is more than justgeneric. It is specific in an indirect, inclusive sense. For when you go to de-fine what a chicken sperm is and what a chicken zygote is, you in each casebring in the idea of the species chicken as formal cause. It is like defining anecessary property of a species. You cannot do so without including thatspecies in the definition.22 Thus, you cannot define acting morally responsi-bly without including in the definition the idea of a human being. Therefore,since it is the very same species i.e. the species chicken, that enters into thedefinition of the effect, chicken zygote, that also enters into the definition ofthe agent, chicken sperm, it follows that the likeness of effect to agent here isindirectly or inclusively specific. The form of the effect does pre-exist in theagent in the same way i.e. indirectly or by specific inclusion.

A similar, but not exactly the same analysis holds for the acorn and the oak-shoot. The specific form of the effect is the form of an oak. But since you can-not define what an acorn is without bringing in the idea of an oak, it followsthat the specific form of the effect, i.e. oak, does pre-exist in the agent for-mally, i.e. by dint of entering into the latter’s definition. Therefore, the prin-ciple that the likeness of the effect pre-exists in the agent in nature as well asin art is not compromised by the supposed counter-examples. And since ac-cording to Aquinas that principle is required to preserve the primacy of finalcauses over efficient causes, it follows too that those same examples do noth-ing to challenge the latter.

Yet this reply occasions an evident counter-reply. It is that this broaderstatement of the principle that effects pre-exist in their efficient causes is tooanemic to satisfy the requirements of teleology. In terms of or example, let itbe granted that the species chicken, which enters into the definition of the ef-fect i.e. chicken zygote, also enters into the definition of the cause, i.e.chicken sperm. Loosely interpreted, the dictum that the likeness of the effectis found in the cause is then satisfied. But that likeness is too vague and indi-rect to satisfy the requirement of teleology. For the immediate end here is nota chicken but a chicken zygote. What is more, neither the form of chicken northe form of chicken zygote pre-exists in the sperm. What, if anything, natureaims at here is a chicken zygote. So the form of chicken zygote must pre-ex-ist in the sperm as goal or target if the priority of final to efficient causes innature is to be defended. By analogy, since what Phidias aims at is the formof Athene, it is that very form and no other that pre-exists in Phidias.

This objection is right on the mark. In fact, the only to answer it is to fall backon that distinction between actual efficient causes and their effects and poten-tial efficient causes and their effects. For it seems that counterexamples to the


principle in question crop up only when it is the latter and not the former thatis concerned. But in that case the objection in question misses the mark.

To explain, instead of a chicken sperm and a chicken zygote, consider achicken sperm qua fertilizing an egg and the egg qua being fertilized by thechicken sperm. This is a case of an actual efficient cause and its effect. Butnote that it is also a case in which the form of the effect, i.e. the fertilizing ofthe egg, straightforwardly pre-exists in the cause. Hence, it is possible thatthat form is the end or target of the cause just as the form of the completedAthene is Phidias’ end. True, the form of the effect pre-exists in the cause herein a logical and not in a temporal sense. For actual efficient causes are simul-taneous with their effects. Still, the point is that a straightforwardly commonelement exists between the two. That, to repeat, is the fertilizing of the egg.That activity is found both in the effect and in the cause, just as the form ofAthene is found both in the completed statue and in Phidias. It is just that it iswhat Aquinas calls “second form” i.e. activity and not “first form” or species.For Aquinas says that the thing in the effect that pre-exists in the efficientcause is not always a form by which he means a first form or species.23 In anycase, the activity here, i.e. the fertilizing of the egg, is in the cause (the sperm)as that from which while it is in the effect (the egg) as that in which. Follow-ing Aristotle, Aquinas holds that this is true of all transient activity. Actionand passion are always one motion or activity and not two. It is just that thatone motion is in the cause in one way and in the effect in another.24 Teaching,for example, is in the teacher as in that from whom. But that very same actionis also simultaneously in the student as in that in whom, i.e. as something re-ceived and not given. Thus, teaching and learning are but two names for thesame thing. The different names just reflect the active and passive ways, re-spectively, in which it exists. That being the case, one can then say that, atleast in the case of actual efficient causes and their effects in nature, the re-quirement of teleology is met. The effect does straightforwardly pre-exist inthe efficient cause. Agreeing with Aristotle, Aquinas says,

. . . For since action is the act of the agent . . . then if action and passion are onemotion, it follows that the act of the agent is in some way in the patient, and thusthe act of one thing will be in another . . . .

He (Aristotle) says, therefore, first that it is not inconsistent for the act of onething to be in another. For teaching is the act of the teacher, tending, neverthe-less, from him to someone else continuously and without interruption. Hence,the same act is his, i.e. the agent’s, as ‘from whom,’ and also in the patient as re-ceived in him. However, it would be inconsistent if the act of one thing were inanother in the way in which it is the act of the former.25

As for the second objection, Aristotle and Aquinas might answer it the sameway they answer the foregoing objection that the notion of final causation is

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self-contradictory. They would distinguish final cause as a plan and final causeas completion or realization of a plan. The final cause does pre-exist the effi-cient cause. But that does not imply that, since it then already exists, it cannotbe realized by the efficient cause. For it is before the efficient cause in onesense of ‘is’ and after the efficient cause in another sense of ‘is.’ As was said,while it is before the efficient cause as plan or possibility, it is after the effi-cient cause as realized plan or actuality. In the first case the ‘is’ is the ‘is’ ofessence. But in the second case the ‘is’ is the ‘is’ of existence. When finalcause is form as possibility or essence, it conditions the efficient cause; butwhen it is form as actuality or as existing, the efficient cause conditions it.

From the fact that the efficient cause always depends on the final causewhich is prior to it, it follows that every efficient cause taken as such resemblesits effect. Thus, defenders of the doctrine of the four causes would contend thatthe idea, common to many philosophers, that effects resemble their causes, isbased on the notion of final cause and more particularly on the priority of finalto efficient causes. In any case, one might summarize the argument as follows.As an agent is so it acts. The activity that is proper to a thing, in other words,follows on its form. But the proper activity of a thing is its good or perfection.Thus, the good or perfection of a physician qua physician is healing. Hence,that activity of an agent or efficient cause that conforms to its being or form isthat thing’s proper good or perfection. Thus, rational activity is the good or per-fection of human beings. Moreover, the good or perfection of a thing is its end.For something is end to the extent that it is desirable and a thing is desirable tothe extent that it is good. But the end of an efficient cause pre-exists in it. Oth-erwise it does not direct the efficient cause to the effect. But if y pre-exists (ei-ther naturally or intelligibly) in x as end, then x resembles y. Moreover, the endof any efficient cause is its effect. Thus, the end of a builder qua building, i.e.a house, is the effect of a builder qua building. It follows that every efficientcause taken as such resembles its effect.

A FINAL OBJECTION ANSWERED

Shifting their ground, opponents of natural teleology would now fire their fi-nal salvo against invoking final causality to escape the dilemma of efficientcausality. Ends, they will say, exist only in minds. Purpose is mind-depen-dent. Where something is aimed at there is some mind that aims at it. If, there-fore, the forms of non-human agent-causes are ends to which the generatingactivities of those agents are oriented, then it must be those same agents thatare aiming at those ends. But to think that they are is to succumb to anthro-pomorphism, to read human purpose into the behavior of non-cognitiveagents. So while forms are ends for human agents, determining in advance the


actions of those agents, they are not ends for non-human agents and hence donot exist in those agents as final causes. Otherwise it should have to be coun-tenanced that an agent-cause like our paramecium is endowed with a mind inwhich forms function as final causes of that agent’s behavior just as they doin human minds.

In answer, Aquinas, for one, would agree that where a form is aimed atthere is some mind behind the purpose. But he would deny that it followsfrom this that the behavior of non-human agents is purposeless. True, there isno mind in our agent-paramecium m that is conscious of the form of parame-cium that exists in it as final cause of its activities. Generating paramecia arenot human artists. Still, though there are surely exceptions, the generating orbudding operations in paramecia regularly occur and new paramecia regu-larly follow those reproductive operations. That means that paramecia are in-clined by their very natures to engage in activities of this sort which are con-ducive to their species.

But that things in the physical world are naturally prone to generate theirlikenesses in things, Aquinas holds, can only be explained teleologically. Itcan only be traced to some directing mind which ordains each thing to itsend.26 For the regularity with which natural things generate their likenessescannot be explained either by chance or by efficient causation.

To spell it out, the fact that new paramecia generally follow the budding ac-tivities of agent-paramecia is not due to chance. Otherwise it does not regu-larly happen. Nor are the two connected as efficient cause to its effect. For wesaw that Aquinas views an acting efficient cause and its effect not as separatethings but as the active and passive sides of the same thing. That being thecase, where the one is so must be the other. Where Phidias is cutting Athene,Athene is being cut. Efficient causes and their effects are thus necessarily con-nected. But though new paramecia generally follow the reproducing activitiesof agent-paramecia, they evidently need not and in fact do not always do so.Here, Hume and the empiricists are correct. Surprises, intrusions, and inter-ruptions can and do occur in nature.

It seems that Aristotle and Aquinas would contend, then, that there is butone other alternative. The fact that new paramecia regularly follow the bud-ding activities of existing ones is due to purpose. A new paramecium, takenas paramecium, is the natural end or goal of the budding of an existing para-mecium. Quite generally, in and through their activities, individual membersof a given species aim at their own species. The inclinations of species to en-gage in patterns of reproductive and other activity both spring from thosespecies as formal causes and are oriented to those same species as finalcauses. In this way does causation in nature form a circle, though Aquinaswould insist that it is a benign and not a vicious circle.

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No less than with human purpose, this natural purpose implies a mind thatorders the actitvities to their ends. Ends are made to be ends, according toAquinas, by mind. But the mind in this case is evidently not human. Phidiashas Athene as his end and decides what activities will realize that end. Butneither Phidias nor any other person makes a new paramecium qua parame-cium the end of the budding activities of an agent-paramecium. We discoverand do not make that relationship. And one way we discover it is by seeingthat the fact that new paramecia regularly follow reproductive activities inagent-paramecia is unexplained by either chance or by efficient causationalone.

The mind behind this natural purpose, Aquinas thinks, is God’s. Just as en-gineers program robots to make automobiles on an assembly line, so God pro-grams living things to act for their own species. In both cases the regularitywith which the results follow on the activities of the agents in question is un-explained by either blind chance or efficient causation. That either an auto-mobile or some stage of its production regularly follows the repetitious ac-tivities of agent-robots is not due to chance. Nor is it due to mechanicalcausation. Where robots make, something is being made. Efficient cause andeffect must accompany each other as two sides of a single process. Yet thereis no guarantee that the automobile or some stage of its completion will fol-low those robotic activities. Unexpected events can break the cycle. So wesay in this case that the robotic activity is due to design. But it is not activedesign but passive or imposed design. It is secondary, received, unconsciouspurpose and not that primary, unmeasured, conscious purpose that character-izes human actions.

The analogy, of course, is inexact. Organisms like paramecia act for theirown species while robots act not for that but for finished or unfinished prod-ucts on an assembly line. Further, the end of an agent-organism’s activitiespre-exists in the agent-organism while the form of the product does not pre-exist in the agent-robot. To improve the analogy, we might imagine a case inwhich robots are used to make other robots and not automobiles. Be that as itmay, the point is that Aquinas would argue that natural events like the repro-duction of paramecia can only be ascribed to purpose even though that pur-pose is, in the agents involved, imposed or unconscious purpose.

This natural or secondary purpose is measured purpose as opposed to pur-pose that measures. Aquinas identifies the latter with eternal law in God’smind and the former with the embodiment or instantiation of that law in things.Law, for Aquinas, is always a rule of activity by which things are directed toan end.27 It is primarily in mind and secondarily in things.28 Thus, the law of aState is primarily in the mind of the governor and secondarily in the conform-ing actions of citizens. Analogously, the rule or pattern of activity by which


new paramecia emerge out of existing paramecia is primarily in God as eter-nal law and secondarily in the conforming activities of existing paramecia. Aseternal, the law of activity for paramecia has an end. That end exists intelligi-bly in God’s mind analogously to the way in which human ends exist intelli-gibly in human minds. As embodied, the same rule of activity for parameciaexists in individual paramecia. And there too it has an end. That end, as wassaid, is the very species of the acting paramecia. All living things act for theirown species.

The law of nature for a given organism, then, is just the sum-total of thoseactivities to which that organism is naturally prone and which has the natureor species of that organism as its end. But since all law aims at an end andsince end is properly speaking in mind, then all law is primarily in mind.What we call the law of a thing’s nature, then, is imposed, measured, and sec-ondary law. It necessarily reflects the eternal law of that nature in God’s mind.The former is the law of a thing’s nature taken in re and the latter is the lawof a thing’s nature taken ante rem. The reason why paramecia are naturallyinclined to engage in operations that have their own species as their end is thatthat law is imposed on their natures by the eternal law in God’s mind. The lawof nature for paramecia i.e. the pattern of activity whereby any parameciumis directed to its end, is first in God’s mind as measure and derivatively in cre-ated paramecia as something measured. The end toward which agent-para-mecia are inclined, i.e. their own species, pre-exists in them naturally. Thatsame end, together with the rule or law of activity that tends toward it, pre-exists in God’s mind intelligibly. It is, says Aquinas, the exemplar of God’swisdom taken as law.

The activities of non-rational things, therefore, tend toward an end that isunknown to them. They act, says Aquinas, “without knowing the causes, inas-much as they are directed to their proper ends by a superior intellect.”29 Theyknow neither their own ends nor the rules of activity or laws of their natureswhich serve that end. Even so, it can hardly be denied that they act for an end.True, activity that is oriented to an end implies knowledge of that end. Pur-pose, as was said, implies mind. But it does not imply knowledge of the endon the part of the agent. By analogy, young children in a large family oftenblindly follow the rules of the family. In so doing they tend toward their ownend, happiness, in promoting, by their obedience, the end or good of the fam-ily as a whole. What the end of the family as a whole is, what their own endsare in relation to that larger end, and what patterns of action realize these endsare things about which these children are ignorant. Yet it cannot be deniedthat they act for an end i.e. the end of the head or lawmaker of the family,even though that end is both unknown to them and imposed on them.

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Once again, it is not just by chance that the good of the family as a whole fol-lows their law-like action. Nor does that end follow their actions by mechani-cal necessity. Unexpected outside events might intervene to preempt the end.That the end of the family as a whole as well as that of the children normallyfollow the latter’s law-like actions is therefore due to purpose, the purpose of awise head and lawmaker of the family. The obvious difference is that while theactions of the children flow from habit, the activities of brute animals and plantssuch as paramecia flow from nature.30 But habit and nature are alike in that theyare each prone to a definite end, i.e. a certain kind of activity.

NOTES

1. Henri Bergson, An Introduction to Metaphysics, trans. T.E. Hulme, (Indi-anapolis: Bobbs-Merrill,1955), 28–30.

2. Aquinas, Summa contra gentiles, Book Two:Creation, trans. J.F. Anderson,(Garden City, NY.: Doubleday, 1955), 17 [4], 54.

3. Aquinas, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, trans. Blackwell, Spath andThirlkel, (New Haven:Yale Univ. Press,1963), I.L.14:120–28, 57–61.

4. Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, trans. J.P. Rowan,(Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1961), I. L.9: C.138–40, 58–59.

5. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L.10: 78, 39; I.L. 12:101, 49.6. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L.14: 124, 59.7. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L.14: 124–25, 59–60.8. Aristotle, Metaphysics, trans. W.D. Ross, in The Basic Works of Aristotle, ed.

R. McKeon, (New York: Random House, 1941), 1045b 28–36, 818–19.9. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L.14: 127, 60.

10. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L.14: 127, 60.11. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, II, L.3: C. 305, 126.12. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L.9: 64, 33.13. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, I.L. 15: 139, 65–66.14. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, I. L.4: C.74, 31–2.15. ———, Summa theologica, in Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas, trans. A. Pegis,

(New York: The Modern Library, 1948), I q46 a2: reply obj.7, 256.16. The following paragraphs use arguments which also appear in my “Is There

Natural Purpose”? See International Philosophical Quarterly, June, 2008.17. J.R. Preer, Jr., “Surface Antigens of Paramecium” in J.G. Gall, ed, The Mole-

cular Biology of Ciliated Protozoa, (Orlando, Fla: The Academic Press, 1986), 303–4;I. B. Raikov, “The Macronucleus of Ciliates” in T. Chen, ed., Research in Protozool-ogy, (New York: Pergamon Press, 1969), 32–44; Ralph Wichterman, The Biology ofParamicium, (New York: Blakiston, 1953), 254–58.

18. Aristotle, Physics, trans. R.P.Hardie and R.K.Gaye in R. McKeon, ed. The Ba-sic Works of Aristotle (New York: Random House, 1941), 195a 9–11, 241.


19. Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, V.L.2: C. 775, 308.20. ———,Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, V. L.3: C. 782, 311.21. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writings of Saint Thomas

AquinasI (New York: Random House, 1945), I q4 a3, 40–1; ———,Commentary onAristotle’s Physics, II.L.11: 242, 111–12; ———,Commentary on the Metaphysics ofAristotle, VII. L.6: C 1393, 531.

22. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, V. L.19: C.1055, 397.23. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, II.L. 11: 242, 111.24. ———,Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, III.L. 5: 315–16, 148.25. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, III.L. 5: 315–16, 148.26. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, I. L.15: C. 233, 96.27. ———, Summa theologica, in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to Saint Thomas

Aquinas (New York: Random House, 1948), I-II q93 a3, 632–33.28. ———, Summa theologica I-II q90 a1: reply obj.1, 610.29. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, I.L.1: C.28, 14.30. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, I.L.1: C.28, 14.

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THE SUBJECT-MATTER OF METAPHYSICS

What is metaphysics? Aquinas’s answer is the same as Aristotle’s. It is the sci-ence of being as being. Since they evidently do not deal with non-being ornothing, all other sciences study being too. But unlike metaphysics they do sofrom some limited point of view. Thus, biology studies being insofar as it isliving being and anthropology studies being insofar as it is human being.Every specialized science cuts off a certain area of being and studies that areaand no other. By contrast, metaphysics does not cut off or focus on any onearea of being as over against another. It deals with any and all being. That isbecause it makes no difference to metaphysics whether being is living or notliving, human or not human. For its concern is with being just as being.

This characterization of metaphysics as over against the other sciences in-vites two objections. First, it is objected that it assumes to begin with thatmetaphysics is a science along with biology and anthropology. But how canthis be when metaphysics neither conducts experiments nor frames or testshypotheses? Second, it is objected that the characterization implies that meta-physics studies everything in general and nothing in particular. But how issomething a legitimate science that studies nothing in particular and every-thing in general? That sounds nonsensical. It is like saying that a zoologiststudies animals but never any particular animal, neither horse, nor cow, nordog, nor chicken, nor any other type of animal.

Both objections are captious. In classifying metaphysics as a scienceAquinas does not and could not have meant by ‘science’ what was later meantby it. Nor could he have meant by ‘science’ what is meant by it today. Aquinaslived three centuries before the birth of modern science in the Renaissance. By

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‘science’ he just means a body of knowledge that employs first principles.Thus, arithmetic and geometry are sciences in his view even though they in-volve neither experimentation nor the framing or testing of empirical hy-potheses. As for the second objection, it feeds on the misconception that par-ticular sciences study types or species of being, while metaphysics studies thegenus being under which these species fall. But Aquinas denies in the first in-stance that being is a genus. Sciences other than metaphysics do not studytypes or species of being for the simple reason that being is not to begin witha genus. And because it is not, it is untrue to say that metaphysics is an empty(and hence pseudo) science since it studies nothing in particular and every-thing in general. True, there is a sense in which everything comes under thepurview of metaphysics. But from this it follows that metaphysics studieseverything in general and nothing in particular only if it is assumed that its ob-ject, being, is the widest genus.

Aquinas points out the consequence of that assumption for metaphysics.1 Itis the same consequence that was drawn by Parmenides. If there are many typesor species of being, then, since difference is outside genus, something outsidebeing is added to being to account for this diversity. But nothing can be under-stood as being added to being by which it is so diversified. Therefore, there arenot many types or species of being but being is one. This argument feeds on theassumption that being is a genus. If it is, then of course no difference can beadded to diversify being since outside of the genus being is nothing. It is thenconcluded that being is one and that all observed multiplicity is illusory.

From this counterintuitive conclusion Parmenides would have been saved,says Aquinas, had he only realized that ‘being’ is a pros hen equivocal and notan univocal concept. With Aristotle it must be said that ‘being’ is said in many,though related, senses. But if that is so, being is no genus since any genus isunivocal. Not being a genus to begin with, being is not the widest genus. Soeven though it is true that difference falls outside genus, we are not forced onthat account to conclude that difference is illusory. That follows only if beingis a genus and this it cannot be since it lacks univocity of sense. It cannot besaid, then, that stones, apples, horses, human beings, God, etc. are types orspecies of being, as if all of them fall coordinately under the genus ‘being.’ Itis not like the case of foxes, horses, dogs, wolves, etc. falling under the genus‘animal.’ For ‘animal’ and all other genera have one sense and ‘being’ doesnot. Otherwise Parmenides is right and the differences among stones, apples,horses, human beings, God and other supposed types of being are eliminated.

HIERARCHY OF SPECULATIVE SCIENCES

Metaphysics is the highest speculative science according to Aquinas. Whyspeculative and why highest? It is a speculative science because it aims at

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knowledge for its own sake and not at knowledge for the sake of action. Inthis it is like mathematics and unlike medicine. The latter is a practical sci-ence since its end is healing. Knowledge of medicine is for the sake of thespecific activity of healing while knowledge of metaphysics or of mathemat-ics is not for the sake of any activity above and beyond the knowledge itself.Thus, the distinction between a speculative and a practical science is that theformer is knowledge for the sake of knowledge and the latter is knowledgefor the sake of action. Moreover, metaphysics is the highest speculative sci-ence. That is because its principles are included in the objects of the two otherspeculative sciences, i.e. mathematics and physics (in Aristotle’s sense of‘physics’). But the principles of the latter are not included in the objects ofmetaphysics. That means that metaphysics is logically prior to mathematicsand physics. And according to Aquinas, if one thing is logically prior to an-other the former is higher or more fundamental than the other.

To spell it out, physics studies mobile being. But since any mobile thing isboth quantified and being, it includes not only those principles by which it is mo-bile but also those principles by which it is quantified and those principles bywhich it is being. For its part, mathematics studies quantified being. But sincequantified being is being, it includes not only those principles by which it isquantified but also those principles by which it is being. Finally, metaphysicsstudies being period or being just as being. But since with Aristotle Aquinasholds there are beings that are neither mobile nor quantified, any being taken justas being does not include the principles of either mobile or of quantified being.

So among the three speculative sciences there is a hierarchy. The highest ismetaphysics since its objects depend on the fewest principles. To be beingsomething need not be quantified or include matter. Next comes mathematicsthe objects of which include quantity together with the principles of being assuch. To be a number something need not and does not include sensible mat-ter. But it must include quantity as well as the principles of being as such. Fi-nally, there is physics whose object is being as changeable. Since a changingthing is a fortiori both quantified and a being, it on that account includes notonly primal matter, the principle of change, but also quantity, the principle bywhich it is numerically one thing, as well as essence and existence, by whichit is being. Therefore, physics assumes the most principles. For that reason itis the least exact and elegant of the three speculative sciences. The more ex-act and elegant a science the fewer are its principles. That is why, in mathe-matics, arithmetic is more exact and elegant than geometry. The latter includethe principles of the former but not vice versa. The idea of a point includesthe idea of a unit but not the other way around.

But the three speculative sciences are hierarchically ordered not only onthe basis of their relative simplicity. They are also so ordered, says Aquinas,according to the order of the abstraction from matter.2 But the two aspects,relative simplicity and relative abstraction from matter, go hand in hand. The

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simpler a speculative science is (i.e. simpler in the sense of its employing thefewest principles), the less dependent are its objects on matter. And the lesssimple a speculative science is, the more dependent it is on matter. Thatmeans that metaphysics is the most independent of matter and physics is theleast independent of matter. In between is mathematics whose objects areconceptually dependent on matter in the sense of quantity (either discrete orcontinuous) but conceptually independent of matter in the sense of sensiblematter.

The objects of the lowest speculative science, physics, can neither exist norbe defined without matter. A stone or a tree is evidently can neither exist norbe defined without matter. A notch above these changing objects are the ob-jects of mathematics. Like stones and trees, numbers and geometrical figuressuch as triangles and circles cannot really exist without matter. In this,Aquinas follows Aristotle who denied Plato’s separation of mathematical en-tities. But unlike stones and trees, numbers and geometrical figures can be de-fined without matter. When you define a stone you must include sensible mat-ter in the definition. Not so when you define a triangle. Finally, the objects ofthe highest speculative science, metaphysics, do not necessarily depend onmatter either for their existence or for their definition. Either they are neverfound in matter, says Aquinas (he mentions God and angels as examples), orelse they are sometimes found in matter and sometimes not. Among the latternotions are being, substance, actuality and potentiality.

SENSES OF ‘BEING’

St. Thomas follows Aristotle in holding that ‘being’ is said in many senses.Even though he is no essentialist, Aquinas insists that in one sense ‘being’means essence. Essence primarily signifies being in the sense of what some-thing is. What something is is called by different names depending on thepoint of view from which it is considered. What something is is calledessence (essentia) from the standpoint of its relation to existence (esse) bywhich it is actualized. For that reason, essence conveys something potential,i.e. potential to existence. What something is is also called quiddity byAquinas when it is viewed as the basis of a thing’s definition. Third, whatsomething is is called nature when it is considered as being the source of athing’s operations and activities. When it is said that the proper operationsand activities of honey-bees spring from what they are, ‘what they are’ herehas the sense of ‘nature.’ Fourth, what something is is called form when it isviewed as determining or specifying matter. Fifth, what something is is calledspecies when it is viewed as being the ground of a concept of it in the mind.Just as matter is the ground of the logical intention of genus and form is the

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ground of the logical intention of difference, so the composite of matter andform is the ground of the logical intention of species.3

Aquinas contrasts what something is (essence) with at least three othersenses of ‘being.’ These are, whether something is (existence), how some-thing is modified by attributes and affections (accident) and the subject ofsuch modification (substance). Being in the sense of essence is properly sig-nified by predication by species, as when it is said that Socrates is human. Be-ing in the same sense of essence, says Aquinas, is taken from being in thesense of a thing, i.e. being as a composite of both essence and existence.4 Bythis he does not mean that the composite is logically prior to essence but thatit is prior to essence in the order of knowledge. It is a cardinal tenet ofAquinas’s epistemology that what we first know are conglomerate wholes,the elements of which we later discern by analysis. In this, he again followsAristotle. These wholes are composites of essence and existence both andthey are identified with primary substances. The word ‘primary’ is used herein order to distinguish these concrete composites of essence and existencefrom secondary substances. The latter are identified by Aquinas, as they areby Aristotle, with essences in the strict sense, namely, what is signified byspecies.

Being, then, now signifies essence, now existence, and now the compositeof essence and existence both. Of these three senses, which one is logicallyprior as opposed to being prior in the order of our knowledge? To this,Aquinas does not hesitate to answer that it is being in the sense of existence.Since the simple is logically or metaphysically prior to the composite, beingin the sense of the composite of essence and existence cannot be the primarysense of ‘being’ even though it is first in the order of our knowledge. Nor isessence the primary sense of ‘being.’ For essence is related to existence as po-tentiality to actuality and actuality is always prior to potentiality. Aquinassays that any determinate form or essence is known to exist actually only bythe fact that it is held to be.5 Esse, he there says, is the actuality of all acts andtherefore the perfection of all perfections.

AN OBJECTION ANSWERED

But here a problem surfaces. For Aquinas affirms Aristotle’s view that ‘being’is primarily said only of substance.6 Everything else is called being only byreference to substance. But by ‘substance’ here it is meant primary substanceand this is always a composite of essence and existence both. And so thequestion becomes one of consistency. How does St. Thomas consistently bothaffirm this Aristotelian thesis and also say that ‘being’ is primarily existenceand not either essence or the composite of essence and existence?

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The answer to this turns on distinguishing the sense and referent of ‘being.’For when Aquinas agrees with Aristotle that ‘being’ primarily applies to sub-stance and that all else is called being only by reference to substance, it is thereferent of ‘being’ that is concerned. But this is quite compatible with sayingthat the primary sense of ‘being’ is existence and not either essence or thecomposite of essence and existence. ‘Being’ primarily means existence butthe primary referent of ‘being’ is substance. That is because to be or to existhas its fullest and most perfect expression in substance as opposed to acci-dent. And this, in turn, is due to the independence of substance as over againstthe dependence of accident. For substance is not present in another the wayin which accident is present in substance. The apple in my hand is, of course,present in something. It is present in my hand. But it is not in my hand in thesame sense of ‘in’ that the redness of the apple is in the apple. Thus, the ap-ple is said to be or exist in a more complete and independent sense than itsredness is said to be or exist.

St. Thomas would carry this further. For even among substances, some ex-ist more independently than others. Because matter enters into their defini-tions, some substances depend on matter to be while others do not. So the lat-ter are more simple and hence more independent than the former. For what iscomposite depends on that of which it is composed. To the extent that imma-terial substances are more independent than material substances, therefore,the former have a higher mode of being (esse) than the latter. Since matter isthe principle of individuation within a species, all and only immaterial sub-stances are identical with their own essences.

Further, even among material substances which are unidentical with theiressences, a hierarchy of esse obtains. For esse in some of these actualizeshigher potentialities than it does in others. A dog, for example, is capable offeeling and sensation while a stone is not. So the esse that actualizes a dog ishigher than that which actualizes a stone. Finally, there is a hierarchy of esseamong immaterial substances too. For while all of these are identified withtheir own essences, some of them are not their own esse while another one is.And since the one that is its own esse, i.e. God, is to that extent simpler thanthose that are not their own esse, the former is substance in an even more in-dependent sense than the latter. So esse in God is higher than esse in all othersubstances, even those that, because they are immaterial, are identified withtheir own essences.

In sum and broadly speaking, even among substances there is a hierarchyof esse. On the lowest rung of the ladder of being are those substances thatare neither their own essence nor their own being (esse). These are all of themmaterial substances and they comprise the overwhelming majority of sub-stances. A notch above these are substances which, while they are not their

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own being (esse) are nonetheless their own essence. And finally, at the top ofthis ladder of being is substance that is both its own essence and its own be-ing (esse). All of this means that among various substances esse is found anal-ogously and not univocally. Esse in a stone is not the same as nor is it totallydifferent from esse in a human being. For its part, esse in a human being isnot the same as nor is it totally different from esse in an angel or in God.

DIVISIONS OF BEING

When ‘being’ encompasses both essence and existence, five divisions of be-ing are found in Aquinas. First, when the principle of division is whether be-ing is in one category or two, being divides into essential being (ens per se)and accidental being (ens per accidens).7 Second, when the principle of divi-sion is whether being is mind-dependent or not, being divides into real beingand being of reason.8 Third, when the principle of division is whether real be-ing is dependent or independent, being divides into accident and substance.9

Fourth, when the principle of division is whether being is categorial or propo-sitional, being divides into being as either substance or accident and being inthe sense of the true.10 And fifth, when the principle of division is whethersomething is form or the possibility of form, being divides into actual and po-tential being.11

These divisions overlap and are not intended by Aquinas to be mutually ex-clusive. For example, the division between substance and accident is a subsetof real being. So too is the division between essential and accidental being.And categorial being and being as actuality and potentiality are both of themsubsets of essential being. Of these five divisions the one between real beingand being of reason is the broadest or most basic. Real beings are those thatare independent of minds while beings of reason are beings that are mind-de-pendent. Under real being are included three subdivisions: essential and acci-dental being, actual and potential being and generation and corruption. In-cluded under being of reason are: chimeras, logical intentions, privations, andnegations.

In the first chapter of On Being and Essence Aquinas states that one senseof ‘being’ is being as divided into the ten categories of Aristotle. And from hisCommentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, it is clear that he does notequate being in this sense with essential being (ens per se).12 For essential be-ing is wider than categorial being since it divides into the ten categories andinto actual and potential being. The ten categories to which he refers, ofcourse, are those of Aristotle. These categories are: substance, quantity, qual-ity, relation, activity, passivity, position, time, place and dress. He contrasts

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being in the sense of the ten categories (categorial being) with being in thesense of the true. As logical being, the latter falls under the heading of beingof reason. Being in the sense of the true is propositional being. It is the beingthat is expressed by the copula ‘is’ in any true judgment.

While all essential being is real being, not all real being is essential being.For Aquinas counts change, whether it is generation or corruption, as real be-ing even though it does not fall under essential being. As for potential and ac-tual being, to the extent that they transcend the categories they may be calledtrans-categorial or transcendental being. For any one of the ten categoriesmay be said to be either actually or potentially. Thus, being in the sense of ac-tuality and potentiality is more common than categorial being. Take, for ex-ample, the category of quality. The oak leaf I now see has the quality of ac-tually being green. But it is at the same time potentially brown. Further, theoak leaf itself is actually an oak leaf but it is potentially nothing but dust. Itwill actually become dust when it drops from the tree and disintegrates.Moreover, Aquinas states that beings of reason as well as real beings can beeither actual or potential.13 In particular, he mentions privations and knowl-edge. As for the former, an example is blindness. One person might be actu-ally sighted but potentially blind while another person might be actually blindbut potentially sighted. As for knowledge, a person might potentially have aconcept that is later actualized in the person. Thus, a toddler potentially hasthe concept of right and wrong but later on, upon reaching the age of reason,comes to have that concept actually.

In the first chapter of On Being and Essence Aquinas states that being inthe sense of the true is wider than categorial being. Being taken in the lattersense is included in being taken in the former sense but not vice versa. Thereason is that anything that belongs to one of the ten categories might be thesubject of a true proposition. Thus, I can say that Socrates is wise or thatgreen is a color. But not everything that is or can be the subject of a trueproposition is real being. Hence not everything that is or can be the subject ofa true proposition belongs to one of the ten categories. Aquinas’s example isthe true proposition, “Blindness is.” Blindness, says Aquinas, is not some-thing real but the lack of something real. It is the lack of something real in asubject in which it naturally ought to be. This is what he calls a privation andprivations are in his view beings of reason and not real beings. Nonetheless,though blindness has no real being, it does have propositional being or beingin the sense of the true. For it is truly said that blindness is in the eye. In otherwords, because blindness can be a term in the relation of combining and sep-arating that the mind makes when it judges, blindness has propositional be-ing. Other privations include falsity, evil, lameness, and deafness. They de-

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pend on our minds to be. Other beings of reason are chimeras (imaginary be-ings) and negations. Thus, a centaur is an imaginary being and non-being is anegation. With respect to the latter, Aquinas says that the fact that we can saythat non-being is non-being implies that non-being in some sense is.14 A nega-tion like non-being has being in the sense that the mind conjures it up as itmakes a true affirmative proposition about it. Non-being is only in the sensethat it is something about which a true proposition is made.

Here it may be objected that in counting non-being as being, i.e. as mentalbeing, St. Thomas goes too far. True, we have concepts of chimeras such ascentaurs and mermaids. But do we also have a concept of non-being? Aquinassays that we do since we can judge that non-being is non-being and all judg-ments have a subject-concept. It may be countered that just because ‘non-be-ing’ is the grammatical subject of ‘Non-being is non-being,’ it does not fol-low that behind the grammatical subject is a logical subject, namely, theconcept non-being. Some would deny there is any concept corresponding tothe word. But Aquinas would insist that there is. In addition to accidents andprivations, which are beings in an extended sense, non-being too is being inan extended sense. Accidents are called being only because they are presentin and hence dependent on being (substance) and privations are called beingonly because they are the lack of something that naturally ought to be in a be-ing or substance. By the same token, non-being is called being only becauseit is the absence of being or substance. Hence, though the word ‘non-being’evidently lacks reference, it nonetheless has sense. And the sense it has is theone we give to it and which is in our minds, namely, the idea of the lack ofsubstance. But this implies that there is a concept behind the word ‘non-be-ing’ after all, that behind the grammatical subject in ‘Non-being is non-being’is a logical subject. At least, so Aquinas would argue.

A PROBLEM OF CONSISTENCY

If propositional being is anything about which a true proposition can be made,it is easy to see how Aquinas holds that being in this sense is wider than cat-egorial being. For we can make negations, privations, chimeras and logicalintentions the subjects of true propositions just as we can make the ten cate-gories the subjects of true propositions. But right here a problem surfaces. ForAquinas states that being in the sense of the true depends on the mind’s com-bining and separating concepts in a judgment.15 But how, if being in this senseis psychological, can it include categorial being? For the ten categories arereal and not psychological being. But it must include categorial being if, as

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Aquinas says, being in the sense of the true is wider than categorial being.Succinctly, these two Thomist theses seem to be prima facie inconsistent:

1 Being in the sense of the true is anything about which a true proposition ismade.

2 Being in the sense of the true depends on the mind’s combining and sepa-rating.

How is 1 consistent with 2 when 1 is a genus under which fall both real be-ing and beings of reason? For 2 states that being in the sense of the true ispsychological and not real. And then, unacceptably, something psychologicalincludes as a subset something real.

To block this objection, Aquinas would answer that it feeds on imprecisionin the statement of 1. No contradiction results when 1 is (correctly) rewritten as,

1’ Being in the sense of the true is anything that is subject of a true propo-sition.

For Aquinas, subjects and predicates are logical as opposed to real beings.As such they are beings of reason. 1’ is therefore perfectly consistent with 2.For in 1’ ‘subject’ is a genus which includes two species. Subjects may referto beings of reason (as in ‘Blindness is in the eye’) or essential (real) being(as in ‘This tree is an oak’). In 1’ and 2, therefore, it is not the case that some-thing psychological is said to include something real as a subset. For subjectsthat refer to real beings are not themselves real beings. They are beings ofreason.

BEING AS THE TRUE GROUNDED ON REAL BEING

St. Thomas states that being in the sense of the true is related to real being aseffect to cause. For it is because something is in reality that a proposition istrue.16 ‘Grass is green’ is true only because grass is green. There is a real com-bination or separation on which the logical combination or separation in judg-ment is based. For example, the logical combination in a predication byspecies such as ‘Socrates is human’ is caused by the real combination of mat-ter and the form or essence humanity. Again, the logical combination in apredication by accident such as ‘Socrates is seated’ is based on the real com-bination of substance and accident.

While this dependence of logical combination and separation on real com-bination and separation is evidently true for the most part, it is difficult to seehow it is true in the case of propositions about privations and negations. If pri-vations and negations (not to mention imaginary things) are not to begin with

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real beings, how is a true proposition about them the effect of any real beingor state of affairs?

In answer, it might be argued that Aquinas consistently has it both ways byboth identifying the bearers of ‘true’ with sentences used assertively and us-ing ‘real being’ to cover both non-mental and mental facts. The truth of thestatement, ‘Grass is green’ is then the effect of the non-mental fact that grassis green and the truth of the statement, ‘Unicorns have a single horn on theirforeheads’ is then also the effect of something real (i.e. non-linguistic),namely, the mental or fictional fact that unicorns have a single horn on theirforeheads.

But this way out conflicts not only with Aquinas’s repeated contrast of thereal with the psychological but also with his identification of truth-bearerswith (mental) judgments as opposed to sentences. For Aquinas, as for Lockefour centuries later, a sentence or statement is true only because it is the signof a true judgment. Thus, Aquinas states that it is the judgment behind thesentence or statement and not the sentence or statement itself that is primarilytrue.17

Whether he has an answer to this problem or not, it is clear that the differ-ence between real being and being of reason is that the latter does while theformer does not depend on minds. That is why Aquinas states that only beingin the former sense belongs to metaphysics.18 For metaphysics deals with thereal as opposed to the psychological. Since the cause of the latter is mind orsome state of mind, being in this sense, i.e. being in the sense of being of rea-son, belongs to that science that studies mind or intellect. Presumably,Aquinas has psychology in mind though he also includes logic. For he saysthat logic deals with second intentions such as genus, species, syllogisms, etc.and second intentions are beings of reason in his view.19

PRIMARY AND SECONDARY BEING

However, within real being some things are called being in a primary senseand others are called being in a secondary sense. Only actual being that issubstance is being in the primary sense of ‘being.’Anything else that is calledbeing is so called in a qualified sense. In this Aquinas is one with Aristotle.By ‘substance’ here Aquinas means a concrete individual thing such as thistree. It is that which is neither present in nor predicable of anything but thatof which other things are predicable and in which other things are present. Allpotential being and all actual being that is not substance is being in an ex-tended sense of ‘being.’ The latter includes all actual accidents as well as allactual change, be it generation or corruption. Thus a quality is called being

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only because it is the modification of a substance and generation is called be-ing only because it is on its way to a substance, and so on. Aquinas says thatthis priority of substance to accident is reflected in language.20 When a thingcomes to be white we do not say that it comes to be in an unqualified sense.Rather do we say that it begins to be white. By contrast, when Socrates be-gins to be human he is said to begin to be in an unqualified sense. This lin-guistic difference mirrors the real order in which a substance like a human be-ing has being in an unqualified sense while an accident like white has beingonly in a qualified sense.

ESSENTIAL VERSUS ACCIDENTAL BEING

It was stated that Aquinas includes being that is either substance or accidentunder essential being. Essential being (ens per se) he contrasts with acciden-tal being (ens per accidens). This is different from the distinction betweensubstance and accident. This is evident from the fact that Aquinas includes thenine accidents under essential being. The division of being into essential andaccidental being refers, respectively, to being in one category only and beingas combined of elements from different categories. The former is substanceor some accident considered just in themselves. The latter has three species:1) the combination of two accidents. For example, such a combination is re-ferred to by the statement, ‘The just is musical’; 2) the combination of sub-stance and accident. This combination is referred to by the statement, ‘Theman is musical’; 3) the combination of accident and substance. This is re-ferred to by the statement, ‘The musician is a man.’

BEING AS A SUBSTANTIAL OR ACCIDENTAL PREDICATE

To recur to categorial as opposed to propositional being, Aquinas says fur-ther that being taken in the first sense is a substantial predicate and pertainsto the question of what a thing is.21 But taken in the second sense being isan accidental predicate and pertains to the question of whether a thing is.Part of what he means by saying that being in the second sense is an acci-dental predicate is that it is accidental to any real being that some propertyis truly affirmed of it in thought or in speech. For example, supposeSocrates is wise. Then it is accidental to Socrates that someone judges orsays that he is wise. But Aquinas means more than this by saying that beingin the second sense is accidental. He thinks that propositional being signi-fies existence or the fact that something is the case. Since it is facticity or

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existence that makes a proposition true, being in the sense of the true signi-fies existence. But since existence is outside the essence of a thing and sinceanything that is outside the essence of a thing might in a broad sense of ‘ac-cidental’ be said to be accidental to it (since, narrowly speaking, being anaccident applies only within essence or essential being), it follows that ex-istence is accidental to the essence of any creature. It is neither genus nordifference. Since it is participated in by any creature but is not from the lat-ter’s essence, existence is external to any creature’s essence. It also followsthat the question of whether a thing is must be distinguished from the ques-tion of what it is.

TWO KINDS OF PARTICIPATION

Speaking of the relation of participation, St. Thomas distinguished two kinds,neither one of which is the same as the Platonic notion of participation.22 Thefirst is the one just mentioned. All creatures participate in being in the senseof esse. Here, what is participated in, being, is to what participates in it, crea-tures, as act is to potentiality. But what is participated in, being, does not en-ter into the definition of what participates in it. All creatures are contingentbeings and existence is accidental to such beings. The second is the partici-pation of something in what does belong to its definition. Thus, the specieshuman participates in the genus animal. Here, what is participated in, beingin the sense of essence, is to what participates in it either as act is to poten-tiality or as potentiality is to act. As for the former, individual humans partic-ipate in the difference rational. As for the latter, the species human partici-pates in the genus animal. But in both cases what is participated in is not adifferent kind of thing that is altogether separated from what participates in it.And that is why Aquinas’s notion of participation is Aristotelian and not Pla-tonic.

CATEGORIAL BEING AS A SUBSTANTIAL PREDICATE

What Aquinas means by saying that categorial being is a substantial predicateis that being in that sense signifies not a subject’s act of existence (esse) butrather its essence. Thus, suppose that it is said that x is a substance or that yis a quality or that z is a relation. Here, ‘is a substance,’ ‘is a quality’ and ‘isa relation’ signify the what or essence of the subject in each case. Being a sub-stance is what x (substantially) is, being a quality is what y (substantially) isand being a relation is what z (substantially) is. None of these predications are

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accidental. Being in this sense divides into the ten categories and expressesessence as opposed to existence. Moreover, essence is not predicated univo-cally of substance and accident. That is because (1) ‘being’ is not predicatedunivocally of substance and accident and (2) ‘essence’ is taken from ‘being’in this same first sense of ‘being.’ The latter is true because, otherwise, thingslike negations and chimeras have an essence. Substance is being and hasessence in an unqualified sense but an accident is being and has essence onlyin a qualified sense. That means that in the two preceding statements, ‘x is asubstance’ and ‘y is a quality’ the copula ‘is’ is not used univocally. It ex-presses unqualified being and essence in the first case but qualified being andessence in the second case.

From this it comes as no surprise that by the essence of a thing a Aquinasmeans the proper answer that is given to the question of what a is where a isthe name of some individual substance. But since the proper answer to ask-ing what a thing is is a definition and definition comprises both genus and dif-ference, it follows that species alone signifies essence. For only species is de-fined since only species comprises both genus and difference. In other words,for something to have an essence is for it to be some specific thing, say ahorse or a toad or a tree. So those things that do not signify a specific thingdo not have an essence, at least in the strict sense of the word. But to be somespecific or definite thing belongs to substance alone. For accidents are notsome specific or definite thing but how some specific or definite thing is.Thus, white is not a specific thing but how some specific thing is. Thus, wesay how some specific thing such as a horse is when we say that it is white.But we do not say how a specific thing is when we say that it is a horse. Weonly say that it is some specific or definite thing. So, while a thing like a horsehas an essence, an accident like white does not. Stated differently, any acci-dent is said to have essence only in a derived sense, i.e. only because it is re-lated to something that properly speaking has essence, namely, a substance.And that relation is one of dependence since, to be, an accident must be in asubstance.

AN APPARENT INCONSISTENCY REMOVED

But here an apparent inconsistency surfaces. If essence is being some specificthing as opposed to how some specific thing is disposed or characterized, itseems that ‘being a mermaid’ or ‘being a centaur’ signifies an essence. For tosay that something is a mermaid or a centaur is to say what something specif-ically is. It is not to say how some specific thing is, as, for example, we say

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how a mermaid is when we say a mermaid is seated. But on the other hand,Aquinas denies that entia rationis such as chimeras, negations, and privationseither are or have an essence.23 For that reason, he there says, essence is nottaken from being in the sense of propositional being but from being in thesense of categorial being. For negations, privations, chimeras and the like arebeing in the sense of the true (propositional being). So it looks as if Aquinassays both that chimeras such as mermaids and centaurs have essence sincethey are specific things and do not have essence since they are beings of rea-son only and not real beings.

This contradiction is apparent and not real. Moreover, to resolve it bringsout the priority in Aquinas of existence to essence. True, in ‘d is a mermaid’or ‘c is a centaur’ the predicate in each case signifies that the subject is a spe-cific thing. It does not signify how some specific thing is further character-ized as in, say, ‘This mermaid is seated.’ But that is quite compatible withdenying that ‘being a mermaid’ or ‘being a centaur’ signifies an essence. Forwhen Aquinas states that for something to have an essence is for it to be somespecific or definite thing, the word ‘something’ here refers to a real substanceand not to some imaginary or psychological being. ‘Something’ here refers towhat in Aristotle is called first or primary substance. Thus, since real exis-tence is a precondition of something’s having an essence in Aquinas’s view—at least of its having essence in the strict sense—it follows that existence isprior to essence. When he says at the start of chapter one of On Being andEssence that essence in taken from being, ‘being’ here refers to existing sub-stances like this tree or that stone.

As for the difference between categorial and propositional being, much ofwhat Aquinas says can be put this way. In expressions such as ‘being human,’‘being wise,’ ‘being six feet tall,’ ‘being asleep,’ etc., ‘being’ expresses cate-gorial being. For the fact that there is no subject-term here (since there is nojudgment) signifies that it is only the predicate that is concerned. But predi-cates signify what something is or how something that has a what or speciesis further determined. All this is in the order of essence, either ‘essence’ in thestrict sense or ‘essence’ in a derived sense. But by contrast, in expressionssuch as, ‘Socrates is human,’ ‘Socrates is wise,’ etc., being, expressed by thecopula ‘is,’ takes on an additional function. For here it is facticity or existencethat is concerned and not just essence. The ‘is’ signifies the fact that there isan individual that satisfies the properties of being human and wise. Here, thepredicate is separated off from the subject only for the purpose of beingjoined to it by the copula. And it is just here as copula in a judgment that ‘is’signifies being in the sense of existence. Judgment is the mind’s way of sig-nifying facticity or existence.

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IMPLICATIONS FOR LOGIC

All this has implications for the question of existential import in logic. If truejudgments and the statements that express them signify being in the sense ofexistence, then every true judgment and statement has existential import. Sounlike what is the case in modern logic, true universal statements have exis-tential import according to St. Thomas. That means that all the relations onAristotle’s celebrated “square of opposition” remain intact. Since the univer-sal affirmative, ‘All men are mortal’ has existential import then it implies theparticular statement, ‘Some men are mortal.’ By the same token, since theuniversal negative statement, ‘No crows are white’ has existential import thenit implies the particular negative statement, ‘Some crows are not white.’

As for true statements whose grammatical subjects do not refer to realthings such as, ‘Some mermaids are females’ and ‘All mermaids are females,’Aquinas would say that even they have existential import. It is just that themode of existence to which they refer is psychological and not real. In the do-main of entia rationis there are such things as mermaids. It is just that ‘are’here signifies existence in an extended sense. Mermaids are only because theyare made up of things that are, namely, women and fish. And centaurs areonly because we make them up of things that are, namely, horses and men.Finally, as regards a sentence that has a contradictory subject-term such as‘Round-squares are round,’ Aquinas would deny that there is either a judg-ment or statement corresponding to the sentence. For since one cannot in thefirst instance form a concept of a round square, then a fortiori one cannotmake a judgment that has as its subject the concept of round square. But sincetruth belongs primarily to judgments in his view, it follows that the sentence,‘Round-squares are round’ cannot be said to be either true or false. Wherethere is no judgment behind a sentence there is no truth or falsity in the sen-tence. For sentences are called true only because the judgments they expressare true.

THE THREAT OF PSYCHOLOGISM

But right here it might be objected that Aquinas succumbs to what sinceHusserl has been called the error of psychologism. If the primary bearers of‘true’ are neither sentences, statements nor timeless propositions but rathermental judgments, then is not St. Thomas guilty of predicating ‘true’ of men-tal acts of a kind? And to do this is surely to fall into psychologism.

In reply, Aquinas would point out that it is not the act of judging that is truein his view but rather the result of that act. And the latter is identified with the

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relation of predicate to subject that the mind makes when it judges that some-thing is the case. Still, the objection of psychologism might persist. For thisrelation of predicate to subject is no real relation but a mental relation, a re-lation of reason. And this Aquinas himself underscores when he says that,though they have a foundation in reality when they are true, the combiningand separating in which judgment consists is the work of mind. So are all log-ical entities which, as second intentions, fall under beings of reason.

Nevertheless, to silence the objection finally, Aquinas would answer that itis not just the relation of predicate to subject that is true but the complex ofthat relation together with the state of affairs it signifies that is true. When Ijudge that grass is green I relate two concepts, a predicate to a subject, andthis is surely a mental relation. But at the same time, something is intendedby that mental relation. And that is the objective state of affairs of grass be-ing green. So it is not the bare mental relating of subject and predicate that istrue but rather the complex of that relating and what is related by it. To usean Aristotelian analogy, the relating is the form and the objective state of af-fairs that is related by it is the matter or content of the relation. And it is nei-ther the one nor the other that is the bearer of ‘true’ but rather the compositeof both. But psychologism consists in predicating ‘true’ solely of the form, i.e.of the mental side of this complex. One commits the error of psychologismwhen one predicates ‘true’ of the act of judging taken apart from what isjudged or the content or matter of judgment.

THE ESSENCE-EXISTENCE DISTINCTION AND EPISTEMOLOGY

The distinction between essence and existence is not only shown by the dis-tinction between categorial and propositional being. It is also required,Aquinas would say, by epistemology. In particular, St. Thomas sees the dis-tinction as necessary to avoid skepticism. Here, Aquinas reminds one of Kant.It is not just that Kant and he both fault the ontological argument for God’sexistence for blurring the distinction between essence and existence. In addi-tion, they both view the obliteration of the distinction as implying skepticism.Along these lines, one of Kant’s arguments in the Critique of Pure Reason fordistinguishing essence and existence is close to Aquinas’s argument to thatsame effect.24 In the latter Aquinas argues that one adequately knows what aphoenix is even though one does not know whether there are phoenixes. Amore modern example might be that of an endangered species, say, the con-dor. An ornithologist knows what a condor is even though he does not knowwhether there are condors. But this would be false if existence is counted as

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a property of condors. Besides, suppose that as a matter of fact the last fewcondors ceased to be just when they were being thought about by the or-nithologist. Then, if existence is a property of condors, then his idea (not im-age) of a condor is not the same now as it was a moment ago when the con-dors were still living. But as evidenced by the fact that our ornithologistwould define the bird the same way each time, this is simply false.

Not only that, but if existence is a property of phoenixes or condors, thenneither the knowledge of what a phoenix is in Aquinas’s example nor the or-nithologist’s knowledge of what a condor is in our own example would reallybe knowledge of phoenixes and condors after all. For the concept of aphoenix or condor would then fail to correspond to its object. Kant makes asimilar point. If existence is a property of a thing, he says, then we must ac-cept a universal skepticism as regards all our concepts.25 For our concept ofanything whatsoever would then always lack a property, i.e. existence, that isfound in the object. If existence is to be counted among a thing’s properties,then, says Kant, . . .” it would not be exactly the same thing that exists, butsomething more than we had thought in the concept; and we could not, there-fore, say that the exact object of my concept exists.”26 Either, therefore, exis-tence must be distinguished from essence or a universal skepticism as regardsour concepts must be countenanced. With this argument of Kant’s Aquinaswould concur.

Alternatively, the independence of knowing what a thing is and knowingthat it is may be linked to the notions of essence, species and definition inAquinas. And when it is, the following argument can be framed. Essence iswhat the definition signifies. But since definition is equivalent to species,essence is what the species signifies. But to be or exist is not what the speciessignifies. Otherwise, since species signifies what something is, to know whatsomething is is to know that it is. But as was shown in the foregoing exam-ple of the ornithologist, that is patently false. It follows that essence is not ex-istence.

METAPHYSICAL ARGUMENTS

More frequently, though, Aquinas’s arguments for the real distinction ofessence and existence are drawn from metaphysics itself rather than from ei-ther logic or epistemology. In particular, they often rest on the distinction be-tween potentiality and actuality. Thus, in Summa contra gentiles27 he arguesas follows. Every participator is related to that in which it participates as po-tentiality to actuality. But every kind of thing that shares existence with otherthings is a participator with respect to existence which is participated in by

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those various kinds of things. Thus, since horses, trees and toads share exis-tence with other kinds of thing, they are participators in existence. And exis-tence, for its part, is participated in by them. Therefore, any kind of thing thatshares existence with other things is related to existence as potentiality to ac-tuality. But since this implies that existence is actuality and essence is poten-tiality and further, since actuality is not potentiality, it follows that existenceis not essence.

Using this same distinction of actuality and potentiality in the context ofgeneration, Aquinas would also argue as follows. When a substance comes tobe, some species or kind of thing is actualized. But the species of a substanceis its essence. Therefore, when a substance comes to be some essence is ac-tualized. But anything that is actualized stands to what actualizes it as poten-tiality to actuality. Therefore, essence stands to existence as potentiality to ac-tuality. But then, a fortiori, essence and existence are distinct in anysubstance.

ESSENTIAL AND ACCIDENTAL PREDICATES

To recur to categorial being, it was stated that this divides into substance andaccident. But accidents are divided by Aquinas in a twofold way. Accordingto what they are just in themselves, accidents divide into the nine kinds thatwere previously specified. But according to how they are related to substance,accidents divide into two kinds, necessary and contingent. Aquinas some-times calls the former properties, reserving the name ‘accident’ just for thelatter.

As regards the latter division and as is indicated by the words ‘necessary’and ‘contingent,’ the difference is that a necessary accident or property is onethat must belong to the subject while a contingent accident is one that neednot belong to it. For example, risibility necessarily belongs to a human beingbut whiteness does not. All humans are capable of laughing but not all hu-mans are white.

Since all accidental predicates, whether necessary or contingent, are out-side the essence of the subject, no accidental predicate is an essential predi-cate. Thus, even though it necessarily belongs to the subject, a necessary ac-cident does not enter into the definition of the subject. With respect to thesubject it is neither genus, difference nor species. In the language of Kant, itdoes not, when joined to its subject, result in an analytic judgment. It wouldbe correct to say that such a judgment is a synthetic a priori judgment only if‘a priori’ here means ‘necessary.’ But if ‘a priori’ means ‘does not arise fromexperience’Aquinas would deny that judgments such as “Humans are risible’

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is an a priori judgment. For on the question of the origin of our knowledgeAquinas sides with empiricism as over against rationalism.

Finally in this connection, St. Thomas contrasts essential predicates, acci-dental necessary predicates and accidental contingent predicates in this way.First, as regards essential predicates, they are either identified with or in-cluded in the definitions of their subjects. However, their subjects are not in-cluded in them. In ‘Man is an animal,’ for example, ‘animal’ is included in‘man’ but not vice versa. Second, as regards accidental necessary predicates,it is just the other way around. Such predicates are not included in their sub-jects, says Aquinas, but their subjects are included in them.28 In ‘Every hu-man is risible,’ for example, ‘risible’ is not included in ‘human’ but ‘human’is included in the definition of ‘risible.’ ‘Risible’ means ‘having the ability tolaugh.’ But since something laughs only if it is a rational animal, the conceptof having the ability to laugh includes the concept of being human. So ‘risi-ble’ includes in its notion the idea of being human. Finally, as regards acci-dental contingent predicates, they are not included in their subjects nor aretheir subjects included in them. Thus, in ‘Some human is white’ it is not thecase either that ‘white’ is included in ‘human’ or that ‘human’ included in‘white.’

TYPES OF JUDGMENTS

From this it appears that, from the viewpoint of the relation of their subjectand predicate terms, subject-predicate judgments divide into three types forAquinas. First, there are those self-evident judgments that cannot be deniedwithout self-contradiction. And because these judgments have essential pred-icates they might be called essential judgments. Thus, it cannot be deniedwithout direct contradiction that an animal is an organism. Second, there arethose judgments which, while they can be denied without direct contradic-tion, nonetheless cannot be denied without indirect or virtual contradiction.Thus, it can be denied without direct self-contradiction that a human being isrisible. For the predicate here is not related to the subject either as its genus,its species or its difference. Hence, the predicate is not included in the sub-ject. But it cannot be denied without indirect or virtual self-contradiction thata human being is risible. For as was stated, though the predicate is not in-cluded in the subject, the subject is included in the predicate. But wheneverthis is so, to deny the predicate is necessarily connected to the subject is todeny that the subject is included in the predicate. But here it cannot be deniedwithout direct contradiction that the subject is included in the predicate. Forthe concept of being human is included in the concept of risible. Therefore, it

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cannot be denied that being risible necessarily (though not by definition) be-longs to a human being. To make such a denial amounts to a virtual contra-diction just because it implies denying that being human is included in thedefinition of being risible and this denial is a direct contradiction. This sec-ond type of judgment in Aquinas might be called a necessary but non-essen-tial judgment.

Third and last, there are those judgments, such as ‘some human is white,’that can be denied without either direct or virtual contradiction. These judg-ments comprise the overwhelming majority of judgments. The fact that theycan be denied without either direct or virtual contradiction means that theirsubject and predicate terms are logically independent of each other. The sub-ject terms of such judgments are not included in their predicate terms nor,vice versa, are the predicate terms of such judgments included in their subjectterms. For that reason they are contingent judgments. And when they are true,they signify and are caused by contingent facts, according to Aquinas. Theyare necessary neither in the sense that their subjects include their predicatesnor in the sense that their predicates include their subjects.

To ask here whether this tripartite division of judgments in Aquinas corre-sponds to Kant’s later division of judgments into analytic, synthetic a prioriand synthetic a posteriori is almost unavoidable. The answer is both yes andno. Aquinas’s essential judgments are like Kant’s analytic judgments in thattheir predicates are either identified with or included in their subjects. For thatreason, both essential judgments and analytic judgments cannot be deniedwithout direct contradiction. But the difference is that while Aquinas’s essen-tial judgments signify real relations, Kant’s analytic judgments are only aboutthe relations between ideas or concepts. To take Kant’s own example, to say‘All bodies are extended’ is not to signify a fact in the real world. It is merelyto say that the concept ‘extended’ is included in the concept ‘body.’ But forAquinas, the same judgment does signify a necessary fact in the world. Hewould say that the necessary tie between the two concepts both mirrors andis the effect of a necessary connection in the real world between being a bodyand being extended. As for Kant’s synthetic a posteriori judgments andAquinas’s contingent judgments, there is a closer parallel. In each case thesubject and predicate terms are logically independent of each other and ineach case the judgment, when true, goes beyond the concepts involved andsignifies a fact in the world. Still, there is a difference. For Kant’s synthetic aposteriori judgments signify how things are in the world as it appears to usand not how things are in the world as it is in itself. But when they are true,Aquinas’s contingent judgments tell us how things are in themselves.

Finally, as for Kant’s synthetic a priori judgments and Aquinas’s necessarybut non-essential judgments, once again there is both similarity and difference.

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In each case the judgment is necessary even though the predicate falls outsideof the subject. And just because of that, the judgment is more than simply a re-lation of ideas. But there are differences. First, as its name indicates, Kant’sjudgment is a priori. It is not drawn from sense experience but is rather thecondition of sense experience. Not so with Aquinas’s necessary but non-es-sential judgment. Second and following on this, Kant’s judgment does not re-veal how things are in themselves but only how things appear to us. ButAquinas’s judgment reveals how things are in themselves. Third, Aquinas’snecessary but non-essential judgment is one in which the subject is includedin the predicate. That explains why the judgment is necessary even though thepredicate is neither the definition nor part of the definition of the subject. Thus,the explanation Aquinas gives of the necessity of such judgments is logical.But as is well known, the necessity of Kant’s corresponding synthetic a priorijudgment is explained epistemologically rather than logically. The necessity ofsuch judgments is not explained by the fact that their denials are virtually (ifnot directly) contradictory. That is Aquinas’s logical explanation. They are ex-plained by the fact that without them experience would not be possible. Inshort, they are explained by Kant’s taking his celebrated transcendental turn inepistemology.

THE TRANSCENDENTAL TURN AS UNWARRANTED

But from Aquinas’s point of view this transcendental turn of Kant’s, so influ-ential to the course of modern philosophy, is entirely unnecessary. The nec-essary but non-analytic judgments that Kant is at such pains to explain can beotherwise explained. For all such judgments, according to St. Thomas, areclassified as necessary but non-essential judgments. And then their necessitycan be justified logically just as is the necessity of essential judgments. Theonly difference is that while the necessity of the latter is justified by the factthat their predicates are included in their subjects, the necessity of the formerreceive a logical justification that is just the converse of this. Their necessityis grounded in the fact that their subjects are included in their predicates. Butthis is a logical justification nonetheless. And if it is successful, then everyone of Kant’s synthetic a priori judgments may be grounded in this way asopposed to grounding them, as does Kant, in what he calls his Copernicanrevolution in epistemology.

But Aquinas would go further. He would say that the transcendental turn ofKant’s is not only unnecessary but disastrous as well. To understand why hisjudgment in this regard would be so negative, we must return to the cate-gories. For Aquinas, the ten categories of Aristotle characterize how things

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are in themselves. But Kant’s twelve categories are not descriptive of howthings are in themselves. Instead, they characterize how things are as knownby us. For these twelve categories are nothing but twelve ways in which weconceptually combine sense data in knowledge. They constitute the form asover against the content of our knowledge. And as knowledge for Kant al-ways comprises form and content both, the object of knowledge is in partmade by us. What is known, then, is reality as it appears to us and not as it isin itself.

But St. Thomas would have rejected this idealist turn as regards the cate-gories. For he would have shunned the consequences this turn has for judg-mental knowledge or the truth of judgment. For Aquinas, this always consistsin the conformity of mind to object. But if categories are nothing but the waysin which we organize and combine sense data, then that same knowledge andtruth is not the conformity of mind to object but the conformity of object tomind. And so far as Aquinas is concerned, this puts the cart before the horse.

The confusion also invites skepticism. If judgmental knowledge is the con-formity of object to mind instead of the other way around, then such knowl-edge is always knowledge of appearance and not of reality. How things reallyare in themselves is cut off from our view. Moreover, if such knowledge isthus severed from reality it is also severed from truth. For if judgmentalknowledge is the conformity of object to mind and the truth of judgment isthe conformity of mind to object then knowledge and truth run in opposite di-rections. And then it can no longer be said that judgmental knowledge impliesthe truth of judgment.

To heal this split and bring knowledge and truth back together again, ide-alists after Kant make the transcendental turn with respect to truth just asKant had made it with knowledge. To make idealism consistent on the matterof knowledge and truth, truth as well as knowledge is made to consist in theconformity of object to mind. Among the absolute idealists, truth is no longerthe conformity of judgment to isolated, extra-mental fact. It is the logical co-herence of a judgment to other judgments. Truth thus becomes a conformityto mind in the sense of rationality. Thus, along with judgmental knowledge,true judgment is construed as the conformity to mind or reason. Since knowl-edge and truth now run in the same direction, Kant’s transcendental turn ismade complete.

This might be a more consistent and full-fledged idealism than Kant’s ideal-ism. But St. Thomas would urge that reuniting knowledge and truth in this wayonly invites skepticism once again. If a true judgment is one that squares withother judgments to make a unified system, then, says the idealist, it is this wholesystem with which truth is primarily identified. Judgments that enter into the sys-tem are only partial truths. They are made true only by their relations of reason

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to all the others. “Die Wahrheit ist das ganze,” says Hegel. But under this holismof absolute idealism to know anything we must know everything. But since thatis impossible, it follows that nothing at all is known by us. And so, however con-trary it is to their intended correction of Kant, the price absolute idealists pay formaking truth run parallel to knowledge is universal skepticism.

St. Thomas would have had another objection to making the categoriesforms of understanding only. It is that it ushers in a theory of truth that in hisjudgment is mistaken. That is the celebrated coherence theory of truth. To seehow the latter is implied by a transcendental gloss of the categories, recall thatunder that gloss knowledge is the conformity of object to mind, where ‘mind’means rational connectedness. And lest knowledge and truth run in differentdirections, truth too must be the conformity of object to mind and not theother way around. But to construe the truth of judgment as the conformity ofobject to mind is to embrace the coherence theory of truth. For no other viewof truth does justice to the idea that truth is the conformity of object to mindwhere ‘mind’ means rational connectedness. Hence, to follow Kant and takethe transcendental turn as regards the categories is to invite the coherence the-ory of truth. It is no accident that coherentism as regards the definition oftruth first appears in the shadow of Kant. In embracing it, Hegel and his fol-lowers thought they were fulfilling, and not undermining, the Kantian philos-ophy.

But from the coherence theory Aquinas would have recoiled. And he wouldhave done so partly for the same reasons as did Moore and Russell in the lastcentury. That is because he both believed that the law of contradiction is trueand that it is the ground of all coherence. But he would have seen that thesetwo propositions exclude the possibility that truth of judgment is defined interms of coherence.

To explain, suppose truth is defined in terms of coherence. Then, since tosay P and Q cohere is to say P cannot be affirmed and Q denied or vice versawithout contradiction, then the law of contradiction is the ground of coher-ence. But the law of contradiction is not itself true because it coheres. Other-wise it is not the ground of all coherence and a new ground of coherence isrequired. It follows that the supposition is false and propositional truth is notdefined as coherence. True, as explicitly stated, this is a Russellian argumentagainst coherence. But the argument is implicit in any philosopher who bothsees the law of contradiction as the logical ground of coherence and countsthat law as true. And Aquinas is one such philosopher. But to continue, truthwould be defined as coherence if the transcendental turn is taken as regardsthe categories. For to repeat, no other plausible theory of propositional truthis available when such truth is defined as the conformity to mind in the senseof rational connectedness. Therefore, Aquinas would conclude that, since it

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leads to the untenable coherence theory of truth, to take the transcendentalturn as regards the categories is to take a wrong turn in philosophy.

THE CONCEPT OF FORM

Besides the notions of being, essence, existence, substance and accident, thenotion of form is prominent in Aquinas’s metaphysics. Part of the reason forthis is that form is a wider notion in Aquinas than it is in Aristotle. And thewider a notion is the more apt it is to belong to metaphysics. In Aristotle formis always form of matter. For that reason form in Aristotle is glued to thephysical world. Along with matter, it is the highest concept in the philosophyof nature or what Aristotle called physics.

But in Aquinas form is not necessarily in or of matter. The human soul is aform and yet exists independently of matter, according to Aquinas. It survivesthe death of the body. And essence as found in separated substances such asangels is form without matter. Angels are identified with their own forms oressences. That is why, says Aquinas, there is with angels no multiplication ofindividuals within a species. For within any given species it is matter, says St.Thomas, that is the principle of individuation.

Aquinas states that essence sometimes has the sense of form.29 It does sowhen essence signifies the determination of a thing. For form is the determi-nation of matter. What Aquinas has in mind here is that essence might be con-sidered either in relation to existence, in relation to accident or in relation tothat in which essence is found, i.e. supposit. Looked at in the latter way,essence specifies matter and so is said to be the determination of matter. Butthis is exactly the definition of form. Form is the specification of matter. Sofrom this point of view essence is correctly said to be form.

Further, when essence signifies form, form is taken in the sense of form ofthe whole as opposed to form of the part. Aquinas states that the form of thewhole signifies the whole essence which, when it informs or specifies pri-mary matter, results in an individual substance.30 Thus, humanity is a form ofthe whole. It signifies the whole essence of a person which, when it informsor specifies matter, results in an individual person, say, Socrates. But the formof the part signifies the formal part of a complete essence which, togetherwith the material part, makes up the complete essence. Thus, rationality sig-nifies a form of the part. It does not signify the whole essence of a human be-ing but only the formal part of that essence from which the difference is de-rived. The material part is, of course, animality from which the genus isderived. Rationality and animality make up the complete essence of a person.This is reflected in the definition, i.e. “A person is a rational animal” which,

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like any definition, includes both difference (derived from the form of thepart) and genus (derived from the material part). As for the material part of anessence, this is evidently not the form of the whole. But Aquinas does notcount it as being the form of the part either, even though it signifies part of acomplete essence, i.e. the material part. That is because any material part ofan essence is by definition not the formal part of an essence and hence notform of the part.

But right here one must be guarded against misinterpretation. The form ofthe part is not difference, the form of the whole is not species and the mate-rial part which is potential with respect to the form of the part is not genus.For strictly speaking, difference, species and genus are logical beings forAquinas. As such they are beings of reason. But the form of the part, the formof the whole and the material part which is specified by the form of the partare real being. For they signify either an essence or a part of an essence. Butexcept in an extended sense of the term, beings of reason do not have essence.Recall Aquinas’s statement that essence is taken from categorial being (whichis real being) and not from being in the sense of true judgment.31 And the rea-son for this is that since the latter is mind-dependent it does not strictly speak-ing have essence.

But while the form of the part, the form of the whole, and the material partare not identified with difference, species and genus respectively, they arenonetheless the ground of these notions. For Aquinas, logical entities are theeffects and signs of real entities. Difference is taken from the form of the partas signifying what is formal (actual) in the essence. Genus is taken from thematerial part as signifying what is material (potential) in the essence. Andspecies is taken from the form of the whole as signifying the completeessence, i.e. both form and matter together.

A sign of the difference between these two sets of entities, logical and real,is this. The latter are present in a subject but never predicable of a subject.Neither the form of the part nor the form of the whole nor the material partare predicable of a subject. We cannot say that Socrates is rationality or thathe is humanity or that he is animality. For no part is ever predicated of awhole and each one of these things signifies a real part of Socrates. By con-trast, these same three elements in the real person Socrates might be consid-ered logically as well as really. They might be taken as difference, species andgenus, respectively. And when they are, they are predicable of Socrates. Thatis because, as difference, species and genus, they signify the whole and notjust part of what Socrates is. Thus, while we cannot say that Socrates is ra-tionality or humanity or animality, we can and do say that Socrates is rational,human and an animal.

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But considering essence as form of the whole and as form of the part canbe misleading. It can invite the error of thinking that for Aquinas essence isin every respect formal or actual. For the form of the whole is the form of pri-mary matter. But matter is pure potentiality with respect to form. So the formof the whole is evidently act with respect to matter or potentiality. And as forthe form of the part, it too is form or act with respect to what the genus sig-nifies. And this is the material or potential part of an essence. Thus, the for-mal and material parts of the essence humanity are rationality and animalityrespectively. And here, the relationship is one of actuality to potentiality. Forrationality specifies or determines animality to make a certain kind of animal,namely, a human being. But animality is in potency to being specified byother forms too. For example, it can be specified by a form that results in thekind of animal we call a fox. So, since the material part of an essence is re-lated to the formal part as potentiality to actuality, it follows that the form ofthe part is also a principle of actuality, just as is the form of the whole. Thedifference is that they are principles of actuality with respect to two differentthings. The form of the whole actualizes primary matter while the form of thepart actualizes the material part of an essence.

However, that essence is not in every respect formal or actual is shownwhen it is taken in relation to existence. Here, it is existence that is actual andessence that is potential. For whether essence is form of the whole or form ofthe part, it has being only in and through esse. It is the act of existence thatmakes any essence actually be. Otherwise it is a mere possibility. But unlikeessence, existence is in no respect potential. It is not actual with respect toessence but potential with respect to some deeper, more fundamental princi-ple of actuality. For that reason, it is the deepest and most fundamental actu-ality. But in the view of Aquinas, the actual is prior to the possible or the po-tential. In this, he once again follows Aristotle. He must therefore conclude,as he does, that existence is prior to essence. If the actual is prior to the po-tential and existence is in all respects actual while essence is potential withrespect to existence, then existence is prior to essence. It is, says Aquinas,“the actuality of all actualities and for that reason the perfection of all per-fections.”32 It is in this sense that St. Thomas is correctly called an existen-tialist.

But over and above its being potential with respect to esse, essence has itsown positive role to play in the composite of essence and existence. And thisis predicated on its actual as opposed to its potential side. True, essence is sec-ondary to esse to the extent that it is by esse that it is made to be. But thoughesse makes any essence actual, it is essence that makes how one esse is higherthan how another one is. And this essence could not do if, like primal matter,

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it were mere potentiality. One way of putting this is to say that existence isadverbially incomplete. It requires essence to complete it. If we say that x ex-ists, the natural question is, “exists how”? Does x exist as stone, as tree, ashorse, as human or as what? And depending on how this is answered, a higheror lower mode of esse results. If x exists as a stone and y exists as a humanbeing, then the latter mode of being or esse is evidently higher than the for-mer. So it is essence that makes any one esse higher or lower than another. Insum, while it is esse that makes essence be, it is essence that makes esse howit is.

DEGREES OF BEING

From what has been said, it is evident that Aquinas recognizes degrees of be-ing. At the bottom of the ontological ladder are negations and privations.These have propositional being only. They are only because they are subjectsof true judgment. Next come chimeras which, like negations and privations,are beings of reason and not real beings. But unlike negations and privations,chimeras are comprised of elements that are taken from real being. Thus, theidea of a centaur is taken from two real things, i.e. a horse and a man. A notchabove these is the lowest form of real being. This is generation and corrup-tion. Generation is said to be only because it is on its way to what is and cor-ruption is said to be only because it is falling away from what is. Thus, theprocess of an acorn’s becoming an oak sapling is said to be only because it ison its way to what is in the primary sense of ‘what is,’ namely, a substance.Or the process of an acorn’s becoming warm as the earth heats up in thespring is said to be only because it is on its way to what is in a more primarysense of ‘what is’ than the process, namely, warmth. True, as an accident ofsome substance (in this case the acorn), warmth is not itself being in the pri-mary sense. For this belongs to substance alone. But warmth is being in amore primary sense than is the process of becoming warm. For process of anykind is a mixture of the actual and the non-actual (potential) in a way an ac-cident is not. A process toward form, for example, whether the form is acci-dental or essential, has the character of being “not-yet.” But though an acci-dent like warmth is not being in the primary sense, it is, as it were, fullyarrived. It does not have the character of being “not-yet.” And just to that ex-tent is it no mixture of the actual and the non-actual the way a process is. So,not being a mixture of being and non-being in that sense, accidents are a rungabove generation and corruption on the ladder of being. Finally comes sub-stance which is said to be in a higher sense than accident. For unlike accident,substance is not said to be only because it is the modification of something

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else that is said to be. Rather, substance is the something else of which otherthings are modifications and on account of which the latter are said to be.

But the ladder of being continues. For even among substances some aresaid to be in a higher sense than others. Broadly speaking, there are three di-visions. In last place are substances (the overwhelming majority) that areunidentical with either their being or their essence. They both are and arewhat they are per accidens. However different they are among themselves(and they range from being dust and dirt to being humans) they are all of thempeas in the same pod. For they have dependent being and dependent essence.Their being and essence, like the light of the moon, is not their own. Theyhave both being and essence participatively and not originally. True, theseprecarious beings are substances and not either accidents, processes,chimeras, negations or privations. So ontologically speaking, things could beworse for them. But among substances they are the lowest. Though they arebeings, they are beings with a mixture of non-being. For they are not just actbut a composite of act and potentiality. And the worst of it is that they are thismix both on the side of being and on the side of essence. As for the latter, theyare not just essence but essence in matter. And as for the former, they are notjust being but the being of a distinct essence. In first place, of course, is God.God is substance that is the polar opposite of all these material substances. Sofar from His being neither His own being nor His own essence, God is bothHis own being and His own essence. That means that in God being andessence are one. Since God’s essence is His being and being as such is purelyactual, there is in God no mix of act and potency either on the side of essenceor on the side of being. As a result, God is ontologically simple.

There is one more logical possibility and that is substance that falls in be-tween these two. Such a substance would not be its own being but would beits own essence. The converse, by the way, is not possible. It is impossible forsomething to be its own being but not its own essence. For it was previouslyshown that whatever is its own being is also its own essence. In any case, thislogical possibility Aquinas believed to be actual. And this he held on faith.For it is part of Christian (as well as some non-Christian) belief that there areseparate substances in between God and material substances. These are an-gels. Moreover, Aquinas thought that belief in angels was not unreasonable,even though it could not be strictly proved. It made sense under a hierarchyof being, he thought, that there should be something to fill the gap betweenhuman beings and God. On the one hand you have a separated substance thatis its own being and essence (God). On the other hand you have a non-sepa-rated substance (a human being) which, though it has a spiritual form, isnonetheless neither its own being nor its own essence. So given a hierarchyof being, it is fitting that in between is a separated substance which, while not

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its own being is nonetheless its own essence. An angel is not its own being.Otherwise an angel is God. Like human beings, then, angels are creatures.But unlike human nature, the angelic essence is not received in matter. Oth-erwise angels are not separated substances. It follows that, like God, any an-gel is its own essence. Every angel, therefore, is a species unto itself.

BEINGS AS DEPENDENT ON GOD

At the core of Aquinas’s metaphysics are two theses which today are widelydoubted. They are 1) that nothing is unless God is and 2) that something’shaving the property F implies that the exemplar of F exists in God’s mind.The first is the conclusion of his celebrated argument for God’s existencebased on the contingency. The second is the doctrine of divine ideas. Ofcourse, if nothing is unless God is, then nothing has the property F unless Godis. For a thing must be to have properties. But going beyond 1), 2) states thatto the extent that a thing a is F, a is modeled after the Idea of F-ness in God’smind. This relation of things to their models in God’s mind Aquinas calls thetruth of things as opposed to the truth of propositions. It is a view that can betraced to Augustine.

History aside and to focus first on 1), Aquinas holds that just as a certainlength exists only because some body exists of which it is the length, so tooany body for its part exists only because God exists. Each case involves totaldependency though in different ways. Length is an accident and accidents in-ternally depend on the substance of which they are the accident. By this it ismeant that the idea of substance enters into the definition of accident. Youcannot define length or for that matter any other accident taken as accidentwithout bringing into the definition something else on which it depends i.e.substance. A body, on the other and, is a substance in its own right and not anaccident. It does not, therefore, qua substance, depend on substance inter-nally, i.e. in that substance enters into its definition. Apart from anything else,that would issue in a circular definition. Nonetheless, a body does depend onsubstance externally, if not internally, according to Aquinas. By this it ismeant that any body depends on another substance, God, as the cause of itsbeing or existence. Unless God exists, therefore, no body exists.

Aquinas thinks that this follows from the fact that bodies are contingent be-ings and that contingent beings depend on a non-contingent being to be. Acontingent being is one that is not identified with its own existence. Other-wise its essence would be to be and thus it would not be a contingent beingafter all but a necessary one. In any case, it is evident that in this three thingsmust be shown. First, that bodies are contingent beings, second, that contin-

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gent beings depend on a non-contingent being to be and third, that this non-contingent being is identified with God.

That bodies are contingent beings follows from the fact that they are notidentified with their own essences. To explain, if something x is identifiedwith its own existence so that x’s essence is one with its existence, then x isipso facto identified with its essence. Otherwise, there being more to x thanits essence, there is more to x than its existence. And then it is untrue to sayin the first instance that x is identified with its existence. But bodies are evi-dently not identified with their own essences. It follows that bodies are notidentified with their acts of existence and so are contingent beings. In behalfof the second premise, take, for example, Fido. Fido is not identified withdogness. Otherwise to be dog is to be Fido. And then Fido and Rex are nottwo dogs but one. Fido, then, is more than his essence dogness. If, though,Fido were one with his act of existence so that his essence and existence wereone, then Fido would not be more than his essence dogness. It follows thatFido is more than his act of existence and so is a contingent and not a neces-sary being.

Second, for the proposition that contingent beings like bodies depend on anon-contingent being Aquinas argues as follows. Whatever is, say A, but isnot identical with its own act of existence, is evidently composed of existenceand some essence of which it is the existence. Thus, if Fido is not identifiedwith his act of existence, then Fido is evidently composed of that existenceplus the essence dogness which is actualized by it. But if A’s existence is dis-tinct from A’s essence, then the former is accidental to the latter. But if some-thing is accidental to an essence, then its presence with or in that essence isdue to some external thing. Thus, if heat is accidental to water then that somewater is hot is due to something external to water, say, fire. Therefore, if A isnot identified with its own act of existence but is a composite of existence andessence both, then A’s existing, like the heat of the water, is due to somethingelse external to A, say, B.

Now as it is with A so is it with B. If B’s existence is distinct from B’sessence, then the former is outside of or accidental to the latter. And then onceagain, B’s existence is due to some external thing C, and so on. But if thischain of existential dependency proceeds to infinity, then none of the mem-bers of that chain in the first instance exist. B’s existence is not a sufficientreason of A’s when B’s existence is itself simultaneously caused by C’s. Byanalogy, the movement of a cane is not a sufficient reason of the movementof a rock on the ground if the cane moves the rock only because it, the cane,is simultaneously being moved by me. Unless, then, there is a being theessence of which is to be, there is no being like A, B, or Fido whose essenceis not to be. If there are things that exist per accidens then there must be

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something that exists per se. Otherwise something that is not its own suffi-cient reason exists without sufficient reason.

Third, even if the foregoing shows that something exists per se or is a non-continent being, how does Aquinas move from “x is a non-contingent being”to “x is God or the highest being”? For with Kant philosophers might objectthat this inference is licensed only by the simple converse of “x is a necessarybeing implies that x is the highest being,” namely, “x is the highest being im-plies that x is a necessary being.” But the trouble is, the latter proposition, onwhich the ontological proof turns, falsely construes existence as a property ofthe highest being. For to say that the highest being is a necessary being is tosay that the concept of the highest being includes the concept of existence.So, since the proof of God from the contingency of things in the long run re-verts to the error of the ontological proof, i.e. counting existence as a prop-erty, then the former proof falls along with the latter.

Aquinas would reply that his own proof makes no such inference fromsomething’s being a necessary being to its being the highest being. It is there-fore untouched by Kant’s objection. Thus would Aquinas deny Kant’s blan-ket assertion that any proof from contingency turns on that inference. ForAquinas, necessary being is opposed to possible being and non-contingentbeing is opposed to contingent being. Any non-contingent being is a neces-sary being and any merely possible being is a contingent being. But it is notnecessary nor is it the case that a necessary being is a non-contingent being.Some necessary beings, i.e. angels, are not necessary in themselves but re-ceive their necessary being from the non-continent necessary being, God.Since, then, some necessary beings are contingent beings (i.e. beings whichare not one with their acts of existence), and no contingent being is the high-est being, it follows that the move from a necessary being to God or the high-est or most perfect being is illicit.

Aquinas, then, concurs with Kant that you cannot move from something’sbeing a necessary being to its being the highest being. What you can do, saysAquinas, is to move from something’s being a being whose essence is onewith its existence to its being the highest being or God. Here, ‘being whoseessence is one with its existence’ is not synonymous with ‘necessary being.’It is a species of the latter. So, since it is not in the first instance a case of de-ducing the highest being from a necessary being, Aquinas’s own proof fromcontingency (call it ACP) falls outside the circle of such proofs at whichKant’s criticism is aimed. Aquinas’s proof proceeds as follows:

ACP

1. If there is a being whose essence is not one with its existence, then thereis a being whose essence is one with its existence.

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2. But there is a being whose essence is not one with its existence.3. Therefore, there is a being whose essence is one with is existence.4. But a being whose essence is one with its existence is the highest being or

God.5. Therefore, God or the highest being exists.

Here, Aquinas moves in 4. from “x is a being whose essence is one with itsexistence” (E) to “x is God or the highest being” (H). But this succeeds onlyif, assuming that E is true, there is at most one being whose essence is one withits existence (O) and being a being whose essence is one with its existence isequivalent to the highest being (B). For his part, though, St. Thomas would de-fend both O and B. And in so doing would he justify the move in 4. from some-thing’s being a non-contingent being to its being the highest being or God.

As for O, Aquinas would proffer the following reductio: suppose there aretwo beings, x and y, in each one of which essence and existence are one.Then, since they are two and not one, neither one of them is identical with itsessence. Otherwise to be such a being is to be x, in which case y does not ex-ist, or to be such a being is to be y, in which case x does not exist. But thenin each one of them, in x and in y, essence and existence are distinct. And so,the supposition that there are two (or more) beings in which essence and ex-istence are one is contradictory. It implies that in these same beings essenceand existence are distinct. By analogy, suppose that essence and existence areone in Socrates. Then Socrates is his essence, in which case, to be human isto be Socrates. But since Socrates and Plato are two humans, to be human isnot to be Socrates. Hence, essence and existence are not one in Socrates. Ac-cordingly, to say that there are two beings, x and y, in which essence and ex-istence are one is at the same time to say that in these same beings, x and y,essence and existence are not one.

As for B, Aquinas would again turn a reductio. For suppose that to be theone being whose essence is one with its existence is not equivalent to beingthe highest being. Then since this being is identified with its esse which is act,then this same being is just act without any potentiality. And then a beingwhich is purely actual is not the highest being. But that is contradictory. Forthe highest being is ipso facto the most perfect being and something is mostperfect to the extent that it is act without mixture of potentiality.

GOD AS EXEMPLAR

To move toward Aquinas’s defense of 2), we begin with his belief that no bodyis its own essence or form. It is always a combination of form and matter both.

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Thus, Socrates is not his own essence humanity. Otherwise to be human is tobe Socrates. Whenever form or act is found in matter or potentiality the re-sulting composite is unidentical with that form or act. Otherwise a whole isidentified with its part. Since, therefore, sensible things such as Socrates arenot form or essence alone but form or essence in matter, form or essence is saidto be in sensible things participatively. To say that Socrates participates in hu-manity is to say that in Socrates matter is actualized by the form humanity. Onthe side of essence, the relation of participation is thus a relation of matter toform. What participates is to what is participated in as matter is to form. Inother words, sensible things are not their own essence or form F but rather dothey participate in F. For, says Aquinas, if some whole x has the form F butalso has something else y added to it then x is properly said to participate inF.33 Thus, humanity in Socrates exists by participation just because Socrates isnot the essence humanity but is humanity together with individuating matter.Stated differently, Socrates is not just humanity but in Socrates humanity isjoined to another thing matter of which it is the form. But a form F is in someindividual x by participation just when x is not just F but F plus another thing,matter, of which F is the form. Therefore, humanity exists participatively inSocrates.

As was noted previously, this same relation of participation holds for beingas well as for being F. Socrates is not his own esse any more than he is hisown essence. Otherwise it is of Socrates’ very essence to be. In Socrates, esseis act with respect to potentiality. But this time the potential principle is theessence humanity. Therefore, since in Socrates esse is act with respect to theessence humanity, Socrates is unidentical with his esse. A person is no morehis own being than he is his own essence. Otherwise, once again, a whole issaid to be one of its parts. Therefore, instead of identity, the relation betweenSocrates and his esse is once again one of participation. Socrates exists onlyparticipatively just as he is human only participatively. He participates in essejust because he is not his own esse just as he participates in essence just be-cause he is not his own essence. And in each case Socrates is to that in whichhe participates as potentiality is to actuality.

In any case and as to being F participatively, one is reminded of Plato’s du-alism of particulars and Forms. That which is participated in, the timelessForms, are both separated from the temporal particulars that participate inthem and self-subsistent. So the question is, does Aquinas claim for essencesor forms this same separate, self-subsistent status? From the fact that essencesare in particulars participatively does it follow in his view that those sameessences exist non-participatively and separately?

Aquinas spells out what he takes to be the Platonist’s argument for an-swering this question affirmatively. The premises of the argument St. Thomas

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accepts. But he denies that the conclusion follows. He raises the argument, G,as an objection to his own view that the only exemplary cause is God. Thus,

G

Whatever is by participation is reduced to something self-existing. . . . But what-ever exists in sensible things exists by participation of some species . . . Therefore,it is necessary to admit self-existing species, as, for instance, a per se man, and aper se horse, and the like, which are called the exemplars. . .34

Aquinas holds that G is invalid. When the premises of G are true, all thatfollows, says he, is that something exists non-participatively if things existparticipatively. It does not follow that this self-existing thing is a self-existingspecies, i.e. a Platonic Form. G feeds on an ambiguity. The first premise con-cerns participation of being in the sense of existence. It is, in fact, the princi-ple of his own proof of God from contingent things. What is, but is not by itsown essence (i.e. what is participatively), depends on what is self-existing orwhat is by its own essence (i.e. what is non-participatively). But the secondpremise concerns participation of being in the sense of essence or species. Itconcerns what is F participatively and not what is participatively. So eventhough the premises of G are true in their own right, G fails due to equivoca-tion. The Platonic conclusion that there is a self-existing or per se man, horse,etc. does not follow. Just because the non-participative being that is impliedby participative being is self-existing when ‘being’ means ‘existence,’ it doesnot follow that the non-participative being that is implied by participative be-ing is self-existing when ‘being’ means ‘essence.’ True, Plato is right as overagainst Aristotle that form in matter implies form that is separate from mat-ter. But from the fact that form is separate from matter, it does not follow thatform is separate altogether. It might be the case that the forms or essencesthat are separate from matter are not separate from God.

But Aquinas goes further. Not only does the Platonic conclusion of G notfollow but it is in his view false. If it is true, then real stone, i.e. stone that ex-ists independently of minds, is immaterial. And as it is with stone so is it withevery other natural thing. To the extent that any natural thing is real it doesnot exist in matter. But Aquinas thinks that it is plainly impossible for realstone to exist immaterially. True, our concept of a stone exists immaterially.For when we form a concept of a stone our intellect forms the universal stone-ness which abstracts from particular material existence. Also, the Idea ofstone in God’s Mind exists immaterially. But this is far from saying that realstone i.e. stone that is independent of mind exists immaterially. This unac-ceptable conclusion Aquinas thinks comes from confusing how natural things

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are with how they are known.35 Just because such things are and must beknown immaterially it does not follow nor is it the case that their real (mind-independent) being is also immaterial. Thus, like Aristotle and unlike Plato,Aquinas denies that universals or forms exist self-subsistently. But like Platoand unlike Aristotle, Aquinas affirms that these same forms or universals ex-ist separately from matter. Striking a synthesis, he holds with Augustine thatthey exist ante rem in God’s Mind.

Yet an Aristotelian would persist in the following question. From the factthat F exists participatively in a, how does it follow that F exists non-partici-patively? This inference must be shown and not just stated. And even if thatinference does hold, how does Aquinas show that the non-participative exis-tence of F takes the form of an eternal Idea in God’s Mind?

To answer, it is convenient to begin with Aquinas’s distinction between ob-ject and condition in predication. Blurring that distinction invites what recentphilosophers call confusing use and mention. St. Thomas provides an exam-ple of this error in the following pseudo-syllogism: “Socrates is human, hu-man is a species; and so Socrates is a species.”36 Human is used and not men-tioned in the first statement but it is mentioned and not used in the secondstatement. Removing the ambiguity means rewriting the second statement,correctly, as “Human is a species,” thereby exposing the four-term fallacy.

Alternatively, one can say that in the second statement ‘human’ signifiesthe device of predication whereas in the first statement it signifies the form orproperty that is predicated in and through that device. Recall the scholasticdistinction between id quod and id a quo. Thus, in “Humans are animals” and“Socrates is human” the genus animals and the species human are each oneof them the id a quo (that by which) we judge that humans are animals andthat Socrates is human, respectively. And in using these predicables for thatend, we are the efficient or agent causes of those judgments. But animals andhumans are in each case the id quod or that which is predicated of humansand of Socrates in and through those same predicables. Just because you useanimals and human to predicate animals and human of humans and Socrates,respectively, it does not follow nor is it the case that animals and human arewhat are predicated, again respectively, of humans and of Socrates.

Now the point of all this is that blurring object and condition is not con-fined to logic. It surfaces in metaphysics in the issue of universals. What itmeans to say that two things share or participate in some form F is that nei-ther one of them is identical with F. Instead, each one is a composite of F andwhat participates in F. With Aristotle we can call the latter matter or poten-tiality. By contrast, something is or has form non-participatively just when itis identified with its form. Recall Plato’s Forms. They are each one of themform alone and do not have this other thing, matter, joined and related to themas potentiality to its actuation.

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If something x has form participatively (i.e. if it is a composite of form andmatter) then the form in question, though it might be internal to x, is externalto the matter in x that participates in it. Thus, suppose that Fritz is a fox. Then,though the form of being a fox is essential to Fritz, it is not essential but ac-cidental to the matter in Fritz which participates in the form of being a fox.Otherwise matter is essentially form and in particular the form of a fox. How-ever, if form of any kind is accidental to matter, then it is caused to be in mat-ter by something else. This cause is an efficient cause which actuates matterto assume the form in question. By analogy, since being 100 degrees Fahren-heit is accidental to water, then water’s being that temperature is due to someexternal efficient cause, say, fire.

This cause of the matter in x assuming some form F evidently cannot beidentified with some other individual F-thing y which, like x, participates inF. For the question is, what causes the matter in any individual at all to takeon or assume some form that is accidental to it? To this the answer cannot besome other individual that is also participatively F. For the matter of this sec-ond individual, no less than that of the first, takes on or assumes F which, ina manner of speaking, is accidental to it. For it is added onto it, as it were,from the outside. But since it is just this that must be explained, any such “ex-planation” begs the question. A is not explained in terms of B when B is ei-ther the same as or includes A. No explanatio is or includes the explanatumwithout circularity. By analogy, if existence is something added to and hence,in a manner of speaking, accidental to essence in some individual y (i.e. if yis a contingent being) then existence in y is caused by something else. Yet thelatter cannot be said to be something else z in which existence is also addedor “accidental” to essence. Otherwise one explains something in terms of it-self. Be that as it may, our question here concerns essence and not existence.If what causes matter in x to assume the form F, which is added to that mat-ter, is not another thing y that is also participatively F, then with what is thatcause identified?

Some say that this question is moot. For ‘matter’ here refers not to the mat-ter of modern physics but to Aristotle’s primal matter. But that individuals arecomposed of matter in this sense is allegedly of historical interest only. Aris-totle’s primal matter, so the objection runs, has long since been replaced bysucceeding notions of matter in modern science, beginning with Galileo’satoms and extending to Newton’s, Einstein’s, and even to contemporary con-cepts of matter.

Yet the answer to this is that Aristotle’s primal matter remains untouchedby scientific notions of matter, old or new. That is because its rationale is notscience but the philosophy of nature and logic. To focus just on the latter, pri-mal matter is implied by classification into genera. Genus is essentially ab-straction from form. I abstract from the form or difference rational in humans

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to form the genus animal; and I further abstract from the form or differencesentient in animals to form the wider genus organism. That implies that thereis a widest possible genus which is bereft of all form. One genus is sensiblysaid to be wider than another only in relation to a widest genus. Besides, un-less there is a widest genus, then, since any species includes the genera aboveit, it follows that any species includes an infinite number of genera. Amongother things, that excludes definition. For one thing, the definition of a speciesis in terms of its proximate genus. But specifying a genus as proximate im-plies that some genera are wider than others, and saying this, as was said, re-quires a widest genus. For another, definition presupposes that the definien-dum has determinate sense. This is excluded, though, if a species includes aninfinite number of genera.

All this implies that if there are real definitions, then something in materialthings answers to genus and something to difference. These are matter andform, respectively.37 Moreover, any such thing includes its species as well asall the genera above it, the widest genus included. It follows that any materialthing includes primal matter or the pure potentiality for form. Wittgensteinonce asserted that simple signs (and hence, in his view, simple objects) are re-quired for determinate sense.38 Aristotle might be interpreted as having prof-fered a similar argument. There must be simple (primal) matter if there is realdefinition, i.e. if the species of things are to have determinate sense.

Nevertheless, that genus and difference reflect constituents in real thingshas been challenged. In the place of this realism in logic, some favor a con-ceptualism. Under it, classification answers to nothing in reality but is thework of minds. Accordingly, genus, difference, and species signify appear-ance and not reality, i.e. how we construe things and not how things are. Inthe scientific revolution at the time of Galileo a quantitative view of the worldreplaced Aristotle’s qualitative one. Under this change, only those features arereal which are measurable. All others are based on the measurable and belongto appearance. Based on quality and not quantity, then, genus, difference, andspecies just reflect the way we human beings view or organize reality and notreality itself. But if so, then from the genus-difference dichotomy in logic onefalsely infers the matter-form complex in reality. And in that case no one suc-cessfully deduces simple or primal matter from the idea of the widest genus.

This objection does contain a kernel of truth. And that is that classification,along with the predicables of genus, difference and species that figure in it,are the work of minds. Like syllogisms and judgments, they are not real be-ings but that type of entia rationis which some scholastics called second in-tentions. However, the objection also harbors a glaring irony. For the idea thatscience reveals the real world is one which science itself has long since aban-doned. Consistent with Kant’s “Copernican revolution” in epistemology, sci-

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entists have insisted for the past century or so that science does not reveal theworld as it is in itself but the world only insofar as it can be made intelligibleto us at a given stage of scientific opinion. So science too, it seems, is aboutappearance and not about reality. But in that case, the foregoing objection toa realist construal of the genus-difference schema is compromised. For thenthe option looms large that it is our genus-difference schema that mirrors re-ality and science that mirrors appearance and not the other way around.

Be that as it may and assuming for the sake of argument that genus, differ-ence and species in mind reflect something in reality, let us recall the ques-tion. If what explains why primal matter in x assumes the form F is not someother thing y that is also participatively F, then what explains it? The answercan only be in terms of what is both efficient cause and non-participatively F.Something is required to make matter take on form and that can only be anefficient cause. By analogy, something is required to make marble take theshape of Athene and that can only be an efficient cause, in this case Phidias.That excludes a Platonic form as the cause of matter’s being F in a. For toidentify the required non-participative F here with a Platonic Form falselysubstitutes a formal for an efficient cause. Recall that Plato installed theDemiurge to explain matter’s being F in a. He saw that what is required hereis an efficient cause.39 Yet what the Demiurge has on the one side it lacks onthe other. For in addition to being efficient cause, the cause of matter’s beingF in a must be non-participatively F and the Demiurge is not. Plato’s formsare separated not just from their copies but also from the Demiurge whomakes the copies. What meets both criteria is something that is both agent-cause and non-participatively F. As both agent-cause and non-participativelyF, such a being might be called a divine being or a god.

However, a plurality of such gods is ruled out. For suppose that there is onesuch agent-cause that is non-participatively F, another that is non-participa-tively G, a third that is non-participatively H, etc., each one being the agent-cause, respectively, of F-things, G-things, H-things, and so on. Then, sharingthe form of being both agent cause of Φ-things and non-participatively Φ,each one is participatively divine. Each one is both participatively agent-cause of Φ-things and participatively non-participatively Φ. For all of themshare the properties of being agent-cause and of being non-participatively Φ.As such, they are not identified with their own forms of divinity but are eachone of them a composite of that form and some matter or potentiality. Other-wise they are one and not many.

Yet right here our previous logic takes hold. In any composite of form andmatter or of the actual and the potential the former is added to the latter as some-thing external or “accidental” to it. Hence, under the assumption of two or moregods, the form of divinity in each god is added to the matter or potentiality which

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it specifies. And then to explain the fact that matter or potentiality in each onetakes on the form of divinity, i.e. the form of being both agent-cause of Φ-thingsand non-participatively Φ, one must invoke what is non-participatively divine,i.e. what is both non-participatively agent-cause and non-participatively non-participatively Φ. Thus, if the idea of god includes being ultimate and uncaused,then the supposed many caused gods in the end imply a single uncaused God.Finally, to explain how this one divine being or God can be both non-participa-tively Φ and also maker of all Φ-things, this same God is said to have the Ideaof Φ in His Mind from all eternity. Otherwise this God is ignorant of what Hemakes. Whence the doctrine of divine Ideas.

So it is that logic and reality correspond. Just as in judgment the conditionunder which alone one attributes P to S is different from what, under that con-dition, one does attribute to S, so too in reality the condition under whichalone a exemplifies F is different from the F which, under that condition, adoes exemplify. The condition of predication, to repeat, is one of the predica-bles, say, a genus or a species. As opposed to an hypostasized Platonic Form,genera and species are what scholastics call second intentions, i.e. forms asexisting in our minds. They are thus mind-dependent. They are not essencesas such but essences as known by us, i.e. universalia post rem. And what bymeans of these predicables is assigned to a subject is some form taken just assuch, apart from existing in minds or in things. By the same token, the con-dition under which alone particulars exemplify forms is different from theforms they exemplify. The latter is again identified with some form or prop-erty taken just as such while the former is identified with that form or prop-erty taken as existing ante rem in the mind of God. So once again the condi-tion is mind-dependent, though here the mind in question is God’s and notours.

Thus, the condition of my judging that Fritz is a fox is the species fox,whereas the object predicated is the form of fox taken as such, apart from ex-istence either in minds or in things. By the same token, from what was saidabove, the ultimate condition of Fritz’ exemplifying fox is the divine Idea offoxhood, while the object exemplified in and through that condition is onceagain the form of fox taken as such, apart from existing either in minds or inthings. For we saw that the fact that makes my judgment, “Fritz is a fox” truecomes from matter’s taking on what is accidental to it, i.e. the form of fox-hood. That requires something that is both the efficient cause of matter’s be-ing fox in Fritz and non-participatively F, in this case, non-participatively fox.That can only be God taken as participable by creatures, and this is the divineIdea of Fox. But the object as opposed to the condition of this exemplifica-tion is once again the form of fox taken as such, apart from existing either inminds or in things.

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Accordingly, in logic and reality both one distinguishes the dimensions ofessence and existence. To the former belong the existentially neutral objectsthat are predicated of subjects in logic and that are exemplified by particularsin reality. These are identified with universals or essences taken absolutely,apart from any mode of existence. To the latter belong the mental or idealconditions under which alone judgment in logic and exemplification in real-ity are possible. And these are identified with universals post rem in ourminds (i.e. the second intentions of genus, species, etc.) and with universalsante rem in God’s mind, respectively.

It remains to answer a stock objection. For it will be alleged that no oneconsistently posits many Ideas in the divine Mind and retains divine simplic-ity. Either our transcendent agent has many Ideas but is not God or there areno such Ideas in God. To skirt this, one might again invoke, with Aquinas, thedistinction between the id quod and the id a quo in knowledge. If God’s mindcontains many ideas in the sense of mental likenesses by which (id a quo) Heunderstands, then it is not consistent with God’s simplicity to say that manyideas are in God. But if the many ideas in God refer to that which (id quod)is understood by God and not to mental likenesses by which He understands,then it is not inconsistent with God’s simplicity to say that many Ideas are inGod. For it is hardly inconsistent with God’s simplicity to say that God un-derstands many things. Aquinas puts it this way:

. . . Now it is not repugnant to the simplicity of the divine mind that it under-stand many things; though it would be repugnant to its simplicity to be informedby a plurality of likenesses. Hence many ideas exist in the divine mind as thatwhich is understood by it; . . .40

Yet it might be countered that this reply falls short of the mark. True, theforegoing distinction excludes a plurality of ideas in God in the sense of a plu-rality of likenesses. To that extent is divine simplicity preserved. Still, evengranted that ‘idea’ refers to what is understood and not to likenesses by whichsomething is understood, to say that these objects of understanding exist inGod still seems to contradict divine simplicity. How is it any more consistentwith divine simplicity to say that many distinct objects of thought are in anabsolutely simple being than it is to say that many distinct mental likenessesof objects are in such a being?

To this Aquinas responds,

. . . Inasmuch as God knows his own essence perfectly, He knows it accordingto every mode in which it can be known. Now it can be known not only as it isin itself, but as it can be participated in by creatures according to some kind oflikeness. But every species has its own proper species, according to which it

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participates in some way in the likeness of the divine essence. Therefore, asGod knows his essence as so imitable by such a creature, He knows it as theparticular model and idea of that creature: and in like manner as regards othercreatures. So it is clear that God understands many models proper to manythings; and these are many ideas.41

Stated in terms of our line of argument, this counter-reply of Aquinas isglossed as follows. One distinguishes God as He is in Himself and God ascause of creatures. Accordingly, God is knowable in both ways. Since, then,God knows Himself perfectly, then He knows Himself in all the ways inwhich he is knowable, including knowing Himself as cause of creatures. Butbeing the cause of creatures includes being the cause of matter’s being F inthese creatures. But since matter’s being F in a creature is the same as the lat-ter’s being participatively F, it follows that being the cause of a creature in-cludes being the cause of its being participatively F. However, we saw that thecause of something’s being participatively F can only be some agent that isnon-participatively F, and that this is identified with a single God. Therefore,in knowing Himself as cause of some creature God knows Himself as beingnon-participatively F. But every creature has its own proper form Φ. There-fore, to the extent that God knows Himself as cause of creatures of variouskinds, it follows that God knows the Ideas of these creatures as objects ofthought. In this sense only is it consistently said that many Ideas are in God.

The answer can be put differently. To that end, it is useful to compare ‘a isF participatively’ with ‘a is participatively.’

As to the latter, to say that a is or exits participatively is to say that, insteadof being identified with a, existence in a is combined with some distinct thingin a, essence, to which it stands as actuality to potentiality. Existence beingthus distinct from essence in a, it follows that, not being due to its essence,a’s existence is due to something else. This is only as it should be since theactual is accidental to the potential. Thus S, if a composite x has a potentialside and an actual side, then x is neither identified with either side nor is ei-ther side of x due to the other. But in that case each side of x is due to some-thing external to x.

So it is in this case. Since a’s existence (its actual side) is not due to a’sessence (its potential side), then a’s existence is due to some other act of ex-istence that is external to a. And we saw that since this existential dependencycannot proceed to infinity (otherwise that a exists goes unexplained), theremust be something according to Aquinas that is or exists non-participatively,i.e. something which is its own act of existence as opposed to its having orpossessing some act of existing.

As it is with a is participatively, so is it with a is F participatively. To saythat a is F participatively is to say that, instead of being identified with a,

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form in a is combined with some distinct thing in a, matter, to which it standsas actuality to potentiality. Essence or form thus being distinct from matter ina, it follows that, not being due to its matter, a’s form is due to something else.And once again, this is only as it should be since, the actual is accidental tothe potential. Invoking S once again, then, it must be said that since a’s form(its actual side) is not due to a’s matter (its potential side) and since a is notidentified with its form F, then it follows that a’s being F is due to some otherF that is external to a. And once again, this essential (as opposed to the pre-vious existential) dependency cannot proceed to infinity. Otherwise a’s beingF goes unexplained. There must therefore be something that is F non-partici-patively, i.e.something which is its own form or essence, as opposed to hav-ing or possessing some form or essence.

Now either this non-participative F—this form that is separated frommatter—is separated from Mind too or not. It is either a Platonic or an Au-gustinian Idea. For several reasons, some of which he takes from Aristotle,Aquinas rejects the former. The concepts of dirt and stone, say, evidently in-clude matter in their definitions. Otherwise there is no difference betweenphysical and mathematical definitions, says Aquinas. Moreover, a defini-tion signifies the real essence of a thing. If, then, there is a self-subsistentStoneness and Dirtness and if, as Plato holds, real stone and dirtness areidentified with these and not with sensible stones and dirt, then it followsthat real stone and dirt are both immaterial and changeless. It follows toothat the difference between physical and mathematical definitions is oblit-erated.

THE “THIRD MAN”

Second, Aquinas accepts Aristotle’s celebrated objection that Plato’s view in-vites a “third man.” The phrase ‘third man,’ though, might be understood inthree ways. First, says Aquinas, it might refer to the ideal man who is a thirdman as distinct from two perceived men, say, Socrates and Callias. Second, itmight refer to the man that is common to the ideal man and some perceivedman. Third, it might refer to an intermediate man that falls between the idealman and some perceived man. Such a third man would thus belong to thesame level in Plato as do individual numbers, lines and other mathematicalobjects.

So the first question is, which one of these three meanings does Aristotlehave in mind when he accuses Plato’s view as inviting a third man? And thesecond question is twofold: how does Plato’s view imply a third man in thatsense and why does that implication unravel that view?

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As for the first question, Aquinas rightly eliminates the first sense of ‘thirdman.’ This sense simply states the position against which Aristotle is arguing,i.e. the dualism of self-subsistent forms and particulars. It does not point to anabsurdity that issues from that position. Unlike the first meaning, the secondone does produce an absurdity, i.e. the indefinite regress of the same Form, inthis case the Form man. This is the celebrated objection to the Forms that israised in the Parmenides. Yet Aquinas denies that by ‘third man’ in Meta-physics Book One, chapter nine Aristotle has in mind this second meaning.For he correctly notes that Aristotle raises this objection immediately afterraising the absurdity of the third man, counting the former as a distinct ob-jection to Platonic Forms. And that would be pointless and repetitious if thethird man absurdity is here taken by Aristotle in the second sense. So he takesAristotle to mean by ‘third man’ here the third meaning, i.e. a man that fallsbetween the Form Man and perceived men. This is a plausible interpretationespecially since Aristotle clearly and explicitly uses the expression ‘thirdman’ in this same third sense elsewhere.42 In fact, in the view of A. E. Taylor,Aristotle always uses ‘third man’ in this sense when he broaches the problemof the third man in Plato.43

In any case, assuming that Aquinas is right about what Aristotle means by‘third man’ here, how does the theory of Forms imply a third man in thatsense? And further, how does that implication undermine the theory ofForms?

To answer, agreeing with Aristotle, Aquinas states that if in addition to theForm line and sensible lines there are intermediate lines according to Plato,then consistency demands that there is an intermediate man (a third man) inaddition to the Form Man and perceived men. But Plato denies that there aresuch intermediates in the case of things like man and horse. There are just theForms of man and of Horse on the one hand and sensible men and horses onthe other with nothing in between. Intermediate entities are limited by Platoto mathematical entities such as particular lines, circles, and numbers.

With Aristotle, Aquinas agrees with Plato’s denial of intermediate men andhorses, i.e. men and horses that, like Plato’s lines and numbers, are immate-rial. But he thinks that it is to just such mathematicized men and horses thatone is committed if one posits self-subsistent Forms. For if the Forms of manand horse are one with the Forms of Line and Number in being immaterial,why should not immaterial men and horses be admitted along with immate-rial lines and numbers? So, to the extent that the theory of Forms admits im-material Forms such as the Form of Man and Horse and yet excludes partic-ular immaterial men and horses corresponding to particular immaterial linesand numbers, it is an arbitrary theory.

To this the Platonist might answer that particular lines and numbers mustbe treated differently from particular men and horses. And as a result, one

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need not admit an intermediary or third man, given the Form Man, just be-cause one admits intermediary lines and numbers, given the Form Line andNumber. And they must be treated differently because whereas matter entersinto individual men and horses, matter does not enter into individual lines andnumbers. Therefore there is nothing arbitrary about admitting intermediarylines and numbers, given the Forms of Line and Number, while excluding in-termediary men and horses, given the Forms of Man and Horse.

But Aquinas and Aristotle both would counter that this just begs the ques-tion. Even if matter enters into perceived men and horses but does not enterinto the unperceived lines and numbers of mathematics, why should not Platoalso admit unperceivable and immaterial men and horses? If the forms ofMan and Horse are one with the forms of Line and Number in being imma-terial, why admit immaterial lines and numbers but exclude immaterial menand horses? Says Aristotle,

. . . . But it is hard to say, even if one suppose them (the Forms) to exist, why inthe world the same is not true of the other things of which there are Forms, asof the objects of mathematics. I mean that these thinkers place the objects ofmathematics between the Forms and perceptible things, as a kind of third set ofthings apart both from the forms and and from the things in this world; but thereis not a third man or horse besides the ideal and the individuals. . . .44

Aquinas, then, would urge the following dilemma against Plato’s theory offorms. Either it recognizes a third man and horse as between the form of Manand Horse and perceived men and horses or not. If it does, the absurdity fol-lows that there are immaterial men and horses like the immaterial lines andnumbers of mathematics. If it does not, then the Platonist is inconsistent inexcluding individual men and horses while admitting immaterial lines andnumbers. And like Aristotle, Aquinas thinks that this dilemma is avoided onlyby denying its source, the Platonic theory of separated Forms.

What Aquinas calls the second sense of ‘third man’ also unravels the theoryof forms in his view. As was said, this is similar to though not identical withthe third man objection of the Parmenides. Here again, the problem can be castin the form of a dilemma. Either the form of Twoness is one in definition withtwoness as found in both sensible and mathematical twos or it is not. If it is,then there is something in common as between them. But then, just as Platosays that there must be a separate form of Twoness because there is somethingin common between the many sensible twos and the many mathematical twos,so must he say that there is another form of Twoness for the same reason, i.e.because there is something in common between the sensible and mathematicaltwos on the one hand and the form of Twoness on the other. For no reason canbe given why the former form should exist but not the latter.45 But this invites

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the absurdity of an indefinite multiplication of forms of Twoness. Nor can Pla-tonists answer this objection, says Aquinas, by saying that forms do not requireany higher forms since they are immaterial and incorporeal whereas sensibletwos are not. Otherwise the objects of mathematics in Plato, which are also im-material and incorporeal, do not stand in need of higher forms. And accordingto Plato they do.46

But if the form of Twoness is not identical in definition with twoness asfound in both sensible and mathematical twos, then the latter twos cannot besaid to participate in the form of Twoness. It would be like saying that manycranes (in the sense of birds) can be said to participate in the form of Crane(in the sense of a of machine). Plato’s theory of forms, therefore, either im-plies an indefinite regress of forms or denies that sensible and/or mathemati-cal F-things ever do participate in the form F.47

Aquinas anticipates a Platonic reply. It is that the form Twoness andtwoness as found in sensible and/or mathematical twos are neither the samenor totally different in definition. The definitions are equivocal not by chancebut by reference. In this are they like ‘healthy’ as predicated of organisms andfood. Under this reply, therefore, the form of Twoness is twoness strictlyspeaking while the twoness found in both sensible and mathematical twos istwoness only by reference to the form of Twoness. But then it follows thattwo perceived twigs, say, and the twos I add and subtract are no more reallytwo, (or for that matter twigs or numbers) than food is really healthy. And inthat case it is as difficult to understand how they are said to participate in theforms of Twigness and Twoness as it is to understand how food is said to par-ticipate in the form of health.

The Platonist will finally protest that the problem of the third man (when‘third man’ is taken in what Aquinas calls the third sense) feeds on a nonsen-sical objection. To get started, it must assume that F is predicated of F-ness justas it is predicated of particular F-things. But that is nonsense. You cannot saythat Twoness is two but only that Socrates and Callias are two, that Fido andRex are two, and so on. For the expression ‘x is F’ signifies that F exists par-ticipatively in x. But we saw that even in the view of Aquinas this implies thatx is not form alone but a composite of form and matter. But the form of F bydefinition exists non-participatively and so cannot be a composite of form andmatter but form alone. It is F-ness itself and not something that is F. It followsthat to say that F-ness is F is neither true nor false but unmeaningful.

If it is a premise of this third man argument that F-ness is F, then Aquinaswould agree that the objection is senseless. For Aquinas would be the first tosay that F-ness is F falsely assimilates what is simple and form alone to acomposite of form and matter. If saying that x is F presupposes that x is acomposite of form and matter and implies that x is caused by F-ness, then you

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cannot say that F-ness is F without implying another form of F-ness in virtueof which the first F-ness is F, and so on, ad infinitum. Aquinas agrees with thePlatonist that the regress here is capped by denying to begin with that ‘F-nessis F’ is meaningful. ‘F-ness is F’ is meaningless because it is contradictory.And it is contradictory because any subject is taken as a composite of matterand form. It is taken as a whole with respect to the predicate which picks outsome part of that whole. But the “subject” here is F-ness itself and not thething that is F. It is form alone and not a composite or whole of form and mat-ter. The contradiction, then, is that F-ness here made to be a subject when itcannot possibly be a subject.

Nevertheless, Aquinas disagrees that this third man argument requires thepremise that F-ness is F. It can be stated without that premise. It does not, infact, assume that premise as it appears in Aristotle.48 To raise this third manobjection, one need not argue that if Twoness is two and sensible things aretwo then there is another form of Twoness by virtue of which they are two.That is the third man argument of the Parmenides. Alternatively, one could(and Aquinas thinks Aristotle does) instead argue this way. If the form ofTwoness is one in definition with twoness as found in sensible and mathe-matical twos, then, since there is something in common as between them,then there must be another separate form of Twoness.

This argument clearly admits the problem of the third man even though itmakes no use of the senseless premise, “F-ness is F.” Moreover, it is an argu-ment which Plato cannot consistently reject. For according to Aristotle andAquinas, Plato himself uses the argument to prove that forms exist. Plato ar-gues that because there is something common as between sensible and math-ematical twos (since the twoness found in sensible and mathematical twos isone in definition) it follows that there must be a separate form of Twoness.49

OTHER OBJECTIONS TO SEPARATED FORMS

Besides the two third man arguments against Platonic Forms, Aquinas acceptsand comments on Aristotle’s argument that if forms are substances, then noparticular sensible thing is a substance.50 But since the latter is evidently false,forms are not substances and the theory of forms is collapses.

To explain, suppose that it is assumed with Platonists that forms are sub-stances. Then forms are not predicable of a subject. Otherwise, forms exist ina subject and it is proper to a substance not to exist in a subject. But if sensi-ble particulars are substances, they must be such by participating in the forms.For substance in the primary sense belongs to the forms. But in that case theforms do exist in a subject after all and hence are not substances. Therefore,

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since in Plato the forms are substances in the strict sense it follows that sensi-ble particulars cannot be substances. But it is evident that sensible particularsare substances. Therefore, the theory of separated forms goes down to defeat.

Platonists would answer that the alleged absurdity here, i.e. that sensibleparticulars are not substances, is not absurd at all but true. For appearancemust be distinguished from reality. Sensible things do appear to be substancesso far as common sense is concerned. But philosophically speaking they areno more really substances than the image of a tree in a pool is really a tree.They are, like images, relational. As the image is nothing but a reflection ofthe real tree, so sensible particulars are only reflections of real substances.And these are the forms.

But Aristotle and Aquinas would counter that if a sensible particular is nota substance in its own right, then it must belong to something else that is sub-stance. But what it belongs to cannot be a form. Otherwise immaterial, time-less forms have material, temporal parts which is absurd. Therefore, if underPlatonism sensible particulars must not be construed as being substances,then they must belong to something else that is substance. The latter, though,can only be matter. But if matter is substance, then it is substance only be-cause it participates in or is the subject of the forms which are properly speak-ing substances. And then it follows once again that the forms do inhere in asubject (i.e. matter) and hence that they are not substances after all.

As in the case of sensible particulars, the Platonist might retort that matteris only substance in an extended sense, i.e. only because it is the subject ofsubstance, i.e. the forms. But this will not do. If matter is not really substancethen it must belong to something else that is substance. But since the latter isnot either matter, a Platonic form, or a sensible particular, it must be somefourth thing. And since that fourth thing is evidently not really substance ei-ther (otherwise, once again, the forms are not separated substances), it mustbelong to some further substance, and so on, ad infinitum. In the end, there-fore, it follows that there is no alternative to surrendering Plato’s theory ofForms.

Platonists might more effectively reply that the fact that sensible particu-lars are not in their view substances does not imply that they exist in some-thing else that is substance, i.e. that they are accidents. As was previouslysuggested, they might insist that sensible particulars are relations. But withthe early Russell they might say that relations are neither substances nor ac-cidents. The relation ‘north of’ is neither a substance nor, like any accident orattribute, is it predicable of a substance. But in that case the objection that ifthe forms are substances then sensible things are not substances stands dis-armed. For Platonists would answer that the consequent here is simply true.Sensible particulars are not substances but relations. But as relations, they are

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impredicable of a substance. Since, then, there is no substance to begin within which sensible particulars inhere, it is pointless to say that that phantomsubstance is substance only by participating in the forms. But then the objec-tion that saying the latter implies that forms do inhere in a subject and so arenot separated forms after all cannot even be raised.

And yet one can anticipate how Aristotle and Aquinas would answer. True,relations like ‘north of’ are neither substances nor do they inhere in a sub-stance. When A is north of B ‘north of’ is neither present in nor predicableof either A or B. Instead, it stands between A and B without being a propertyof either one. But that sensible particulars are not plausibly construed as re-lations is evident from their status as universals. ‘North of’ holds not onlybetween A and B but also between many other pairs. It is one with respect tomany and so is universal and not particular. But no one can say that a sensi-ble particular like this tree or that person is one as over against many. Beingunique and unrepeatable, this tree or that person is particular and not uni-versal.

Agreeing with this, Platonists might reply that sensible particulars are notrelations but relational entities. And unlike relations relational entities areparticular and not universal. An image in a pool is unique and unrepeatable.It is not something common to many as are relations like ‘north of.’

But this rejoinder only serves to re-invite the main objection. Suppose thatthe image of Socrates in a pool is neither a substance nor a relation but a re-lational entity. Does it not then follow that such an image is an accident? Forthe image in question is necessarily present in something, i.e. a pool. If, then,sensible particulars are relational entities like images in a pool, then they toomust be present in a subject and hence be accidents. But then whatever it isthat sensible things inhere in is a substance. But according to Platonists, thissubstance, be it identified with matter or anything else, is substance only be-cause it participates in the forms to which ‘substance’ properly applies. Andthen it follows once again that the supposed separated forms are instantiatedin a subject and so are not separate forms or substances after all.

I consider one more Aristotelian objection to the forms with which Aquinasagrees.51 St. Thomas once again frames the objection as a dilemma. Supposethat some organism B comes to be. B’s character is due either to the fact thatsome agent looks to a separated exemplar in making or not. If not and the spe-cific likeness of B to A, another organism of the same type, is just due to A,then it is superfluous and pointless to posit separate exemplars of any kind.The latter would not be the exemplar of B. But the fact is that in Plato exem-plars are formal causes of things like A and B. But if the likeness of B to A isdue to some agent’s looking to a separate exemplar in making B (and A), thenthe absurdity accrues that B’s being and nature is not due to A. B would no

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more owe its being and character to A than one automobile in a productionline owes its being and character to its predecessor. B will come to be whetherA exists or not. Thus, would it be pointless and superfluous to posit either oneof Socrates’ parents as having anything to do with Socrates’ being and nature.And that is unacceptable. Under the Platonic theory of forms, therefore, ei-ther those forms are pointless and superfluous (or as Aristotle says, “have nowork”) in the generation of Socrates (or anything else) or Socrates’ parentshave nothing to do with Socrates’ coming into being as a new human being.52

In short, as regards Socrates coming to be, either the form of humanity iscausally superfluous or Socrates’ parents are causally superfluous. But theformer contradicts Plato’s own view and the latter is unbelievable. It followsthat the theory of separated Forms must be abandoned.

Here, Aquinas notes that even though this dilemma defeats the Platonictheory of separated exemplars, it does not disprove exemplars in the sense ofIdeas in God’s mind.53 That organisms are naturally inclined to produce theirlikenesses in the things that are generated might be due to some intellect thatknows and wills the end to which these inclinations are directed as well as therelationship of things to that end. That organisms naturally and regularly pro-duce their likenesses in the things generated might be due to an exemplar inthe sense of a plan or purpose directing all things to their due ends. AndAquinas holds that an exemplar in this sense of a divine plan directing thingsto their ends bears the character of law.54

OBJECTIONS TO DIVINE IDEAS ANSWERED

To recur to divine Ideas, it was mentioned that Aquinas was not unaware ofobjections to the thesis. The most obvious difficulty is reconciling the plural-ity of these Ideas with the absolute oneness and simplicity of God. God, wesaw, is identified with his own being and hence with his own essence. Thereis in God, therefore, no division either of being and essence or of essence andsupposit. God simply is his own act of existence. Yet, Aquinas also holds thatthe Ideas are both many and unseparated from God. How, then, are these twoviews to be made compatible? If God’s essence is not only one but even onewith his own act of being, how are many essences or Ideas included in God?To this it cannot be answered that the many Ideas are included in his mind butnot in his essence, just as the many ideas I have are included in my mind butnot in my essence. For God’s mind is not distinct from his essence.

Aquinas’s answer is that it does not infringe on God’s simplicity to say thatGod knows many Ideas as objects of knowledge. It would only infringe on hissimplicity if, in knowing Ideas, his mind were informed by a plurality of like-

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nesses. In other words, since the many Ideas are what God knows and not thatby which he knows, God’s simplicity is not sacrificed by saying God knowsmany Ideas. At first this seems to save God’s simplicity at the cost of placingthe Ideas outside God, thus giving them the separate, Platonic status Aquinashimself denies they have. For saying that Ideas are what God knows insteadof the internal acts by which God knows them seems to make the Ideas as sep-arate from God as the tree in my yard is separate from me when I say that it,the tree, is what I know or perceive. But Aquinas’s answer is that, in know-ing Ideas, what God knows is Himself and no external thing. It is just that heknows Himself not in Himself but as participable by creatures. Being perfectin his knowledge, God knows Himself in all the ways He is knowable, in-cluding as participable by creatures. But to know Himself as participable bycreatures is to know many Ideas. For though the Ideas are not distinct fromthe divine essence, they are multiplied according to the relation of thatessence to creatures. The reason for this is that, unlike the divine essence, theessence of every creature is distinct from its being. In creatures essence fallsaway from being while in God it does not. That is why they are only crea-tures. And this division of essence and being in creatures (as opposed to theirunion in God) implies that being in creatures participates in divine being onlyanalogously and imperfectly. For instead of being being pure and simple, thebeing of creatures is always the being of some essence, as of something otheror external. And so the being of creatures is always being that is limited or re-stricted by something other than itself, namely, essence. And the differentways in which the being of creatures thus comes to be limited or restricted bysomething other (i.e. essence) is just the multiplicity of species among crea-tures. Since, then, every creature participates in the being that is the divineessence only as it is the being of this or that particular species, it follows thatto know the divine essence as participable by creatures is necessarily to knowmany species or Ideas.

The distinction between the divine essence in itself and the divine essenceas participable affords an answer to a second objection to divine Ideas. It isthe objection of ontologism. If I know Ideas and the latter are identified withGod’s essence, does it not follow that in knowing Ideas I have direct knowl-edge of God in this life? But it is part of Christian doctrine that no person di-rectly knows God in this life. In fact, Aquinas himself affirms this when hesays that God is known directly only in the Beatific Vision after death. But aswas just indicated, St. Thomas would answer that in knowing Ideas I knowonly the divine essence as participable by creatures and not the divine essencein itself, apart from its being participated in by creatures. That is to say, Iknow the divine essence relatively to creatures and not absolutely. So thesame distinction that serves to answer to the first objection that the plurality

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of Ideas is incompatible with God’s simplicity serves to answer the secondobjection of ontologism.

THE CONCEPT OF GOOD

This chapter is incomplete without recurring to the idea of teleology inAquinas, especially as it is linked to the act of existence. This calls for ex-amining the idea of good in Aquinas and showing how it is related to esse.

Aquinas’s account of ‘good’ in several respects parallels his treatment of‘true.’ ‘Good,’ like ‘true,’ is a categorial property. Any real thing, no matterwhat category it falls under, is good, just as any real thing, no matter whichcategory it belongs to, is true. Moreover, like ‘true,’ ‘good’ does not add any-thing real to being but only something conceptual. Aquinas states that some-thing, A, can be added to another thing, B, in three ways. First, A is an acci-dent of B and so is outside the essence of B. Second, A delimits or restrictsB, as human delimits or restricts animal by the difference rational. Third, A isadded to B according to reason. Thus, being blind, which is outside theessence of human, is predicated of some human. Nonetheless, being blind sig-nifies nothing in reality but is a privation in a human being, namely, the ab-sence of sight. And privations are beings of reason only.

Like true, ‘good’ does not add to being in either the first or the secondsense. For accident is outside of essence and difference is outside of genus.But since outside of being is nothing, good does not add to being as an acci-dent or a difference. Nor does ‘good’ add to being by limiting or contractingbeing. This is the way a category adds to being. Each one of the ten categoriesadds to being by limiting, contracting or restricting being. But a category doesnot do this like a difference. Otherwise being would be a genus and outsidebeing taken as a genus is nothing. Instead, a category limits, contracts or re-stricts being by being a determinate mode of existence.55 Thus, since being isnot in the first place univocally predicated of substance, quality, quantity, etc.,it cannot be said that, in adding something to being, a category adds some-thing to the genus being. In other words, the objection cannot be made that acategory cannot add something real to being (since outside being is nothing).For this objection assumes that being is a genus and it is not.

Nonetheless, ‘good’ does not add to being the way a category does. Andthis, says Aquinas, for the simple reason that good divides into the ten cate-gories just as being does.56 For ‘good,’ just like ‘true,’ is a transcendental. Andthat means that ‘good’ is found in all the categories. If good is not a categorybut is found in all the categories, then ‘good’ does not add to being in themanner of a category.

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‘Good’ is like ‘true’ not only in adding to being something conceptual andnot real but also in adding to being some relation.57 But the relation is differ-ent in each case. Being is called true because it is related to intellect. But be-ing is called good because something else that is oriented to it.58 But that towhich something is oriented is an end. So something is good to the extent thatit is end. But something is end to the extent that it perfects that of which it isthe end. Thus, health, which is the end of a physician’s activities, is the per-fection of those activities. Hence, good is a perfection toward which some-thing tends or is oriented. But further, something perfects that of which it isend to the extent that it is act with respect to potentiality. Thus, a state ofhealth in a patient is the actualization of the potentiality in the physician’s ac-tivities to produce health in that patient. Therefore, something is good to theextent that it is act.

Being is end with respect to something oriented to it either as essence or asexistence. As regards the former, all material beings are composed of primalmatter. But primal matter is nothing but orientation to form. And form here isessence or nature. So any material being such as a tree or a toad is called goodjust because, as essence or form, it is end with respect to its own matter. Butit is important to point out here that the matter of anything is oriented to itsform or essence only because that form or essence exists. Goodness is conse-quent upon essence or form only to the extent that the latter is existentially re-alized in some thing. In this, goodness differs from truth. Truth is consequentupon essence or intelligible specificity alone, regardless of whether or not thelatter really exists. Some essence or form is called true because it is con-formable to by intellect, even though that essence or form is a mere possible,having no real existence. For example, suppose some endangered species,say, the whale, ceases to exist. Still, the form or essence whale is called truebecause, in knowing what a whale is, our intellects are conformable to whale-hood. But according to Aquinas, that same essence whalehood could not becalled good when whales have ceased to be. It can only be called good whenit is existentially realized in whales. Socrates would gain no good or perfec-tion from the form wisdom unless Socrates were wise. That is what Aquinasmeans when, contrasting truth and goodness, he says that while truth belongsto intellect, goodness belongs to things.59 He approvingly refers to Boethius’statement to the effect that a thing is said to be good in virtue of its own actof existing.60

This link between goodness and existence explains why Aquinas followsAristotle in denying that goodness is found in mathematics. For mathematicsdeals with purely conceptual entities, i.e. entities that are abstracted from realbeing. Where there is abstraction from being in the sense of existence there isno goodness. Thus, though abstract notions like line and number are true

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(since, in being known, they are conformed to by intellect), they are not good.Final causality has no place in mathematics. Nothing in mathematics isproved by final cause, says Aristotle.61

This gives rise to an objection. If being is found in mathematics but notgoodness, then being and good are not perfectly convertible. But it isAquinas’s view that being and good are perfectly convertible. To this St.Thomas replies by making a distinction.62 The objects with which mathemat-ics deal are good when they are considered as existing in things. Numbers asexisting in things such as five apples or seven pears are good as are lines thatindicate yards on a football field. For it is real and not conceptual being thatis here concerned. But numbers and lines as considered by mathematicianshave conceptual and not real being. But when it is said that being and good-ness are convertible, ‘being’ refers only to real being and not to conceptualbeing.

But the paradox is that, though good is in things and truth is in intellect,truth is prior to goodness. Since both true and good follow on and include be-ing, being is prior to them both. But truth is closer to being than goodness.Therefore, truth is prior to goodness.63 In behalf of the first premise, Aquinaswould say that truth by definition is the conformity of intellect and being andgoodness is by definition being in the sense of end or fulfillment. So beingenters into the definitions of both truth and goodness. As for the second prem-ise, Aquinas says first that if there is some mode of being in which there istruth but not goodness then truth is closer to being than goodness. But this isin fact the case. Mathematical essences such as line and number are true be-cause they are knowable. But they are not good since, as was said, they lackreal being. Second and what is really behind the first reason, true is closer tobeing than goodness because true follows on being in any sense of beingwhile good follows on being as in some way perfected. Thus, true follows im-mediately on being while good does not. This comes down to saying that truefollows even on possible being or essence while good follows only on actualbeing or existence. For even possible being is knowable while, since no merepossible being is perfect (since it is not fulfilled or actualized), no mere pos-sible being is good.

If something is good to the extent that it is end, then to know what end isis to know what good is. End, of course, is a relational notion. End is not onlyrelated to means but it is also related to the subject of which it is the end. Anacorn is the subject that has an oak as its end. At the same time, activities thattake place in the acorn are means to the end in question. Looked at in relationto its subject, any end is the actualization or fulfillment of that subject. It is toits subject as the actualization of an orientation is to that orientation. Stateddifferently, end is act with respect to potentiality. And since act perfects and

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fulfills potentiality, it follows that end perfects and fulfills the subject whoseend it is. If, therefore, good has the nature of an end, it follows that to the ex-tent that any being is good it perfects and is act with respect to some poten-tiality. After noting that whatever has the nature of an end also has the natureof goodness, Aquinas says,

. . . Two things, however, pertain to the nature of an end: 1) that it be sought af-ter or desired by those things that have not yet attained it, and 2) that it be lovedby, and as it were lovable to, those things which share in its possession; for itpertains to the same nature to tend toward its end, and in some way to rest in it.. . . Now these two things belong to the very act of existing. For those thingswhich do not yet have this act tend toward it by a certain natural appetite. Thusmatter, as the Philosopher says, desires form. All things that presently have ex-istence, however, naturally love that existence, and preserve it with all theirpower. . . .64

But to continue, if good is act with respect to potentiality which it perfects,then the higher a thing is act the higher the sense in which it is good. Andsince good has the nature of an end, the higher the sense in which somethingis act, the higher the sense in which it is end. But it was stated that existenceis act in a higher sense than essence. For though it is act with respect to mat-ter, essence is potentiality with respect to the act of existence. But since exis-tence is not potentiality with respect to some further act, it is the act of allacts.65 But since in the view of Aquinas God’s essence is to be, God is actalone without potentiality. It follows that God is in the highest sense end andgood. Thus,

1. Something is good to the extent that it is end.2. Something is end to the extent that it perfects that of which it is the end.3. But something perfects that of which it is the end to the extent that it is

form or act.4. So, something is good to the extent that it is form or act.5. But existence is the act of all acts.6. So a thing is most properly good to the extent that it exists.7. But only God is His own being or act of existence.8. Therefore, only God is ultimately good or goodness itself.

Coming to a similar conclusion differently, one can say:

A. The being (esse) of any contingent thing is the fulfillment or perfection ofits essence.

B. But the fulfillment or perfection of a contingent being is its good.

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C. So the being of any contingent being is its good.D. But in God, the non-contingent being, there is no division of what fulfills

or perfects and what is fulfilled or perfected. That is because God’s essenceis His being.

E. So in God there is no division of good and what is perfected by good.There is just good.

F. Therefore, God is the highest good or goodness without any mixture ofnon-good.

NOTES

1. Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, trans. J.P. Rowan(Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1961), I.L.9:C 138.

2. ———, Commentary on the Trinity of Boethius, q5 a1 in J.F.Anderson, ed., AnIntroduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas (Chicago: Henry Regnery,1953), 7–8.

3. ———, On Being and Essence, trans. A. Maurer (Toronto: Pontifical Instituteof Medieval Studies, 1949). 2, 35.

4. ———, On Being and Essence 1, 26.5. ———, On Being and Essence 1, 28.6. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, IV, L.1: C 539, 218–19.7. ———, Commentary, V.L9:C 885–7, 344–5.8. ———, Commentary, IV.L.4: C 574.9. ———, Commentary, V.L.9:C 885, 344; ———,On Being and Essence, 1, 26.

10. ———, On Being and Essence, 1, 26–7.11. ———, Commentary, V.L.9: C 897, 347.12. ———, Commentary, VII.L1:C 1245, 488.13. ———, Commentary, V.L.9: C 897, 347.14. ———, Commentary, IV.L1:C 539–40, 218–19.15. ———, Commentary, VI.L.4: C 1241, 483.16. ———, Commentary, V.L.9:C 895,346–7;———, Commentary, IX.L.11:C

1898, 700.17. ———, Commentary, VI.L.4:C 1227, 480.18. ———, Commentary, VI.L.4:C 1242, 483.19. ———, Commentary, IV.L4: C 574, 232.20. ———, Commentary, VII.L1: C 1256, 491.21. ———, Commentary, V.L.9: C 896, 347.22. ———, Quodlibetal Questions in J.F.Anderson, ed. An Introduction to the

Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas (Chicago:Henry Regnery, 1953), II q2 a3, 26.23. ———, On Being and Essence, 1, 27.24. ———, On Being and Essence, 4, 45–6.

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25. Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, trans. Norman Kemp Smith, (Lon-don: Macmillan, 1958), B628, 505–6.

26. ———, Critique, A600; B628, 505–6.27. Aquinas, Summa contra gentiles, Book Two: Creation, trans. J.F. Anderson,

(Garden City, NY.: Doubleday, 1955), 53 [4], 156.28. ———, Commentary, VII.L.3: C 1313, 506–7.29. ———, On Being and Essence, 1, 28.30. ———, Commentary, VII. L.9: C 1467–69, 556.31. ———, On Being and Essence, 1, 26–7.32. ———, Disputed Questions on the Power of God, q7 a2: reply obj.9. in J.F.An-

derson, ed. An Introduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas, 22.33. ———,Commentary, I. L.10: C 154, 64.34. ———, Summa theologica, trans. A. Pegis, (New York:The Modern Library,

1948), I q44 a3 obj.2, 238.35. ———, Commentary, I.L.10: C 158, 65–6; ———, Summa theologica, I q84 a2,

380–83.36. ———, On Being and Essence, 4, 42.37. ———,On Being and Essence, 2, 35–36.38. Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, trans. Pears andMcGuinness (London:Routledge & Kegan Paul,1961), 3.23, 23; 2.021–2.0211, 11.39. Plato, Timaeus, in B. Jowett, trans. The Dialogues of Plato (Oxford: The

Clarendon Press, 1953), vol. III, 28a-29a, 716.40. ———, Summa theologica, ed. Pegis, I q15 a2, 164.41. ———, Summa theologica I q15 a2, 164.42. Aristotle, Metaphysics, trans. W.D.Ross, in Richard McKeon, ed.The Basic

Works of Aristotle, (New York: Random House, 1941), 1059b8, 851.43. A. E. Taylor, Plato: the Man and his Work, (New York: Meridian, 1958), 356.44. Aristotle, Metaphysics, 1059b1–9, 851.45. Aquinas, Commentary, I.L.14: C 222, 91–2.46. ———, Commentary, I.L.14: C 222, 91–2.47. ———, Commentary, I.L.14: C 223, 9248. Aristotle, Metaphysics, 990b 6–7, 706.49. Aquinas, Commentary, I.L.14: C 221–222, 91–2.50. ———, Commentary, VII. L5: C 1370,524.51. Aristotle, Metaphysics, 991a, 707–08.52. ———, Metaphysics, 991a 9–26, 707–08.53. Aquinas, Commentary, I. L.14: C 223, 92.54. ———, Summa theologiae I-II q93, a1, 629.55. Aquinas, Disputed Questions on Truth, in J.F. Anderson, ed. An Introduction to

the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas, q21 a1, 75.56. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, q21 a1, 75–6.57. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, q21 a1, 77.58. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, q21 a1, 77–859. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, q21 a1, 77.

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60. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, q21 a2 reply obj.8, 85.61. Aristotle, Metaphysics, 996a 29.62. Aquinas, Disputed Questions on Truth, in J.F. Anderson, ed. An introduction to

the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas, q21 a2 reply obj.4, 82.63. ———, Summa theologica, I q16 a4, 174–175.64. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, q21 a2, 83.65. ———, Disputed Questions On the Power of God, in J. F. Anderson, ed., An In-

troduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas, q7 a2 reply obj.9, 22.

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TWO DEFINITIONS OF CORRESPONDENCE

Truth in Aquinas is either the conformity of mind to thing or the conformityof thing to mind. That is why, following Isaac Israeli, Aquinas defines truthas the adequation of thought and thing and not either as the conformity ofthought to thing or of thing to thought. Placing the connective ‘and’ in thedefinition makes the definition applicable to truth under either aspect.1 It al-lows the relation of conformity to run in either direction. But inserting thepreposition ‘to’ between ‘thought’ and ‘thing’ disallows that reciprocity. Thedefinition is then too narrow to catch truth under both aspects.

Truth as the conformity of thought to thing might be called the realist as-pect of truth. For under it truth is the conformity of our judgments to what isindependent of our minds. If the latter is called the independently real, it canbe said that for Aquinas whenever there is conformity of our judgments to theindependently real there is truth. Under this aspect, truth resides in mind andnot in things. It is our judgments that are true when and only when they mir-ror the world. My judgment that grass is green is true just because it corre-sponds to a fact, i.e. the fact that grass is green. My statement to the effect thatgrass is green, where by ‘statement’ it is meant the assertive use of a sentence,is called true in the view of Aquinas only secondarily speaking, i.e. only be-cause it expresses the true judgment that grass is green.2

Truth as the conformity of thing to thought might be called the idealist as-pect of truth. For here the measure of truth is thought and not thing. This isnot to be understood along Kantian lines. Aquinas would not have endorsedKant’s Copernican revolution. Nor is it to be construed as being idealist in thesense of being an Hegelian or coherentist theory of truth. Instead, by saying

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that truth is sometimes the conformity of thing to thought Aquinas means ei-ther one of three things: i) that artifacts are called true because they conformto ideal models in the minds of artists or crafts-persons or ii) that naturalthings are called true because they conform to the Ideas of those things inGod’s mind and iii) that words are called true because they conform to the be-liefs of the speaker or writer. As to the latter, suppose that I say what is truewhile believing it to be false. Then what I say is propositionally true butmorally false. In any case, i) is practical truth, ii) is ontological truth and iii)is moral truth. These three truths consist in the conformity of the outer to theinner or of thing to mind, whereas the truth of judgment consists in the con-formity of the inner to the outer or of mind to thing. Ontological truth or thetheory of divine Ideas is a dominant theme in St. Augustine, St. Anselm, andSt. Bonaventure. It is ultimately traced to Plotinus for whom natural thingsare modeled after their eternal ideas in Nous, the first emanation from theOne. History aside, the point is that for Aquinas truth is in mind either a) asconformed to the real or b) as that to which the real conforms. The former isthe truth of judgments while the latter is either the truth of things, natural orartifactual, or moral truth.

A NOMINALIST OBJECTION

Nominalist defenders of the correspondence theory would object thatAquinas’s account of correspondence is too broad. The relation of correspon-dence does not run in both directions but only in one. Following Aristotle,they say that of the various referents of ‘true,’ only one of them, i.e. a state-ment or a judgment, is called true in a straightforward sense. Artifacts andnatural things are called true only in a derived sense i.e. only because truestatements can be made about them. ‘True’ is thus what Aristotle calls equiv-ocal pros hen. Gold is called true because it is the ground of the true state-ment or judgment, “That is gold.” An artifact is called true only because, onceagain, it is the ground of a true statement or judgment that either is or can bemade about it. When an art-expert picks out the real Mona Lisa from variousreproductions, he might refer to it as “the true one.” It is so called by him onlybecause it is the ground of the true statement, “That is the Mona Lisa.”

Which one of these definitions of correspondence is correct, the broaderone of Aquinas or the narrower one of Aristotle? Is something called falsegold only because it elicits the false judgment, “That is gold” or is somethingcalled false gold simply because it fails to conform to the idea of gold?3 Fromwhat was said, this comes down to asking whether ‘false’ in expressions like‘false gold,’ ‘false teeth’ ‘false bottom’ etc. is equivocal pros hen or not.

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The narrower definition is consistent with nominalism while the broaderone is not. To say that something is called false gold only because it tends tocause the false judgment, “That is gold” carries no commitment to universalseither in re or in mente. But to say that something is called false gold becauseit fails to conform to the standard of goldness implies that universals exist atleast in minds. That is why Aristotle’s device of pros hen equivocity might beviewed as a minimalist tactic under the strategy of Ockham’s Razor. The rulethat defines the device might be called the rule of derivative predication (DP).Thus,

DP

For any predicate G, G is attributed to x derivatively or pros hen in some con-text c just when the sense of G in c includes some relation in which x stands tothe primary referent of G

In the expressions ‘false gold and ‘true diamond’ ‘false’ and ‘true’ are un-der the narrower definition construed as exemplifying DP. Something iscalled false gold only because it elicits the false judgment, “That is gold” andsomething is called a true diamond only because it elicits the true judgment,“That is a diamond.”

THE OBJECTION ANSWERED

To return, then, to the question, is the narrower or the broader definition ofcorrespondence correct? Is something called false gold because it elicits thefalse judgment “That is gold” or is it called false gold simply because it failsto conform to the idea of gold?

A clue to the answer comes from noting the restrictiveness of DP. UnderDP ‘true’ cannot be attributed to any non-judgment y whatsoever without in-cluding in its sense some relation in which y stands to a true judgment. Coun-terexamples to this, though, are easily cited. Not all non-judgments are calledfalse only because, masquerading as something else, they elicit a false judg-ment about that non-judgment. Suppose Phidias makes a false start on theway to making the Athene. When he tells friends that the botched attempt theysee is a false start on the way to the true Athene, everyone understands whatis meant. The start is called false simply because it fails to conform toPhidias’ ideal model. Otherwise he should not have abandoned it. It is notcalled false because it elicits the false judgment or statement, “This is theAthene.” For no one but Phidias is in a position to make that judgment since

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no one but Phidias is acquainted with Phidias’s ideal model. Nor wouldPhidias himself make that judgment since he evidently is acquainted with hisown model. Clearly, the start is called false simply and straightforwardly be-cause it fails to match Phidias’s ideal pattern.

But if that is so, then as against DP, it cannot be said that, when called false,any non-statement whatsoever includes in its sense the idea of a false state-ment. But since DP would hold if ‘false’ (and ‘true’) were equivocal pros henwhich apply strictly to statements alone, it follows that ‘true’ and ‘false’ arenot equivocal pros hen terms which apply primarily to statements or judg-ments and derivatively to everything else. DP is just too narrow to catch allcases in which ‘false’ (and hence ‘true’) are attributed to non-statements ornon-judgments. But in that case Aquinas’s broader definition of correspon-dence is defended.

TRUTH AND KNOWLEDGE

If on its realist side truth is the conformity of mind to thing, how doesAquinas distinguish truth from knowledge? For knowledge too, according tohim, is the conformity of mind to thing.

As might be expected, his answer is that while knowing that something isthe case entails truth, it does not work the other way around. One can evi-dently truly believe that something is the case without knowing that it is thecase. And this belief is true in the straightforward sense of the term. In thissense is truth independent of knowledge. However, one’s knowing that some-thing is the case does entail one’s truly judging it to be the case. Yet truth isnot entirely independent of knowledge, in the view of Aquinas. For it is a con-dition of true belief which is not knowledge that the believer is acquaintedwith, and in that sense knows, the subject of the belief. My true belief thatJones is a millionaire presupposes that I am acquainted with Jones, and mytrue belief that dogs have a keener sense of smell than humans presupposesthat I know, however inchoately, what dogs are. In each case this knowledgeis not knowledge that but knowledge what, i.e. simple apprehension or ac-quaintance. Aquinas characterizes these cases of true belief which fall shortof being knowledge that as cases of true knowledge. Here, ‘true’ refers to thetruth of the belief or judgment while ‘knowledge’ refers not to knowledge thatbut to the simple apprehension or acquaintance which the believer has withthe subject of the belief or judgment.

To true knowledge Aquinas opposes false knowledge. This is no contra-diction in terms. Like true knowledge, false knowledge also occurs only injudgment. It occurs only when I have some non-judgmental knowledge of

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what a thing is but make a mistake about one of its properties.4 All judgmentspresuppose and include this non-judgmental knowledge on the part of thejudger. This is the apprehension of simple essences. In this function intellectis never false. We either apprehend a simple essence or we are entirely igno-rant of it.5 Simple apprehension is thus like what Russell called knowledge byacquaintance.6 You are either acquainted with green or, like a blind person,you are altogether ignorant of it. There can no more be false simple appre-hension than there can be false acquaintance. Falsity enters in only when, injudgment, mind moves from the sphere of essence to that of existence. Here,mind does not deal just with essence, but with the composite of essence andexistence. For unlike simple apprehension which intends essence, judgmentintends existence. And when it does do this in judgment, mind can be wrongabout the contingent accidents of a thing, i.e. those accidents that arise out ofa thing’s relations to other things in actual existence. And since the latter areother than its proper object, essence, mind can be mistaken about them.

In any case, an example of how what Aquinas calls false knowledge oc-curs is as follows. Suppose I have seen many swans over a period of yearsand on that basis judge (falsely) that all swans are white. Aquinas would saythat it is a condition of my even falsely judging that all swans are white thatI know or am acquainted with the simple essence of a swan. It is just that itis not on that essence that I focus. Unlike the simple apprehension of swan,the false judgment, “All swans are white” has as its object not the essenceswan per se but that essence as mixed with the accidental property of beingwhite. It focuses not on swan simply but on the composite of white swan. Ithas as its object not just swan but swan as mixed with existence or facticity.For a swan’s being white is evidently not due to the simple essence of swan(otherwise there are no black swans) but to existential factors that are acci-dental to essence. It is similar to the case of sight that sees not just whitewhen it sees the submerged oar but white as mixed with a certain bent shapeon which it focuses and which is accidental to white. In any event, focusingon swan as white instead of on some white thing as swan, I go beyond mysimple apprehension of swan. In so doing I set up the possibility of falselyjudging that all swans are white. Due to my focus on the accidental com-posite as opposed to the essential simple, I run the risk of taking the acci-dental for the essential. And I do actually confuse the two when I judge thatall swans are white. By analogy, due to its focus on the shape of the coloredoar as opposed to its color, sight induces the false judgment that the oar isbent. All the same, the irony is that this false judgment “All swans are white”(as well as every other false judgment) presupposes and includes knowledgeof simple essences. And that is why Aquinas consistently speaks of falsejudgment as being false knowledge.7 Just as every evil is founded in some

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good since evil is a privation in something that is good, so too is every fal-sity founded in some truth. For false judgment is a privation in some mindthat truly apprehends those simple essences that figure in every false (andtrue) judgment.8

Thus, suppose that I judge that condors nest in valleys. Here the logicalcombination of subject and predicate fails to conform to any real combinationof substance and accident. As a result, the judgment is false. But even thisfalse judgment presupposes knowledge on my part. It presupposes knowledgeof condors by simple apprehension. All false judgment presupposes someknowledge of the thing about which the judgment is made. With RoyceAquinas insists that one can be wrong only about what one is acquainted with,however imprecise that acquaintance might be.9

By the same token, whenever one judges that S is not P one removes fromthe thing signified by the subject some form that is signified by the predi-cate.10 In so doing one judges that the thing signified by the subject fails toconform to the form that is signified by the predicate. When the judgment istrue, then the thing signified by the subject really does fail to conform to theform signified by the predicate. And then one not only knows somethingabout S when one judges that S is not P but one also knows the likeness ofthe thing signified by S to the idea one has of it, i.e. the idea of its not beingP. But when the judgment is false, then the thing signified by the subject doesnot fail to conform to the form signified by the predicate as the judgmentspecifies. And then one not only fails to know something about S when onejudges that S is not P but one also fails to know the likeness of the thing sig-nified by S to the idea one has of it, i.e. the idea of its not being P. For thejudgment being false, there is no such likeness to begin with. Even so, one isconscious of the apparent conformity of the thing to one’s concept of it in thefalse negative judgment S is not P just as one is in the case of the false posi-tive judgment S is P.

In the sense of the conformity of mind to thing, then, truth is strictly speak-ing found only in judgment.11 And it is this judgmental or propositional truththat fails to entail knowledge-that, as was said. It is only in a secondary sensethat truth is found in the first apprehension we have of a thing or in the senseperception we have of a thing. We can in a manner of speaking call conceptsor percepts true when they conform to a thing, but strictly speaking it is onlyjudgments or propositions that are called true. Thus, suppose that for the firsttime I am acquainted with condors. This is not truth in the strict sense, eventhough it is a kind of knowledge, i.e. knowledge by acquaintance. For in themere acquaintance or simple apprehension of a thing I make no claim abouthow a thing really is and it is only when I make such claims that the question

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of truth or falsity strictly speaking arises. And making claims about howthings really are occurs only in judgments.

At the outset, my knowledge of things, say of condors, is vague and im-precise. It is knowledge by acquaintance or simple apprehension. This is thefirst act of the mind. But suppose that my knowledge of condors increases sothat I come to know more about them. This new knowledge might include,say, the knowledge that condors nest on high cliffs. This added knowledge ofcondors is had only in my judgment to that effect. Thus, in addition to andlater than our first apprehension of a thing is our knowledge about that thing.This second act of the mind is achieved in and through judgments or propo-sitions. And it is in these judgments, as was said, that truth in the sense of theconformity of mind to thing is strictly speaking found.12 Not that it is the actof judging itself that is true but rather the complex of that act together withthe state of affairs that is judged. When I judge that condors nest on highcliffs, what is true is neither the state of affairs of condors nesting on highcliffs taken as such nor the mental act of judging taken as such. It is the com-posite of the two. Otherwise truth is falsely predicated of the real and of themerely psychological, respectively.

In any case, when through the logical combination of subject and predicatein judgment I affirm some combination in reality, then for the first time issomething (i.e. the judgment) properly speaking true when truth means theconformity of mind to thing. All other cases of such conformity, be they theconformity of idea to essence or of sense to object sensed, are true in a sec-ondary sense of the term. Moreover, the real combination that true judgmentreflects might be one of form and matter, as, say, the composite of condor-hood in this matter. Or it might be, as in “Condors nest on high cliffs,” thecomposite of accident and substance.13 In either case, truth is present onlywhen I mirror these real combinations in and through the judgments, “This isa condor” and “Condors nest on high cliffs,” respectively.

KNOWLEDGE OF TRUTH AS PERFECTING INTELLECT

Now as with anything else, intellect is perfected when it actually knowssomething as over against only potentially knowing it. For the actual is priorto the potential. At the same time, Aquinas states that truth is the end of theintellect and the end of a thing is its good or perfection. It follows that the in-tellect is perfected when it has truth and that its having truth is simultaneouslya state of knowledge. Truth, then, is always knowledge of some sort, thoughnot, to be sure, always knowledge-that. For as was said, Aquinas recognizes

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the difference between mere true belief that P and knowledge that P. Truth inany sense of the term implies knowledge in some sense of the term (i.e.knowledge-what or knowledge-that) and truth in some specific sense of theterm, say, a true judgment or a true idea, implies knowledge in some sense ofthe term. By the same token, knowledge in any sense of the term, be it knowl-edge-what or knowledge-that, implies truth in some sense of the term. Thus,knowledge-what and knowledge-that imply the truth of ideas and the truth ofjudgment, respectively. And knowledge in some sense of the term impliestruth in some specific sense of the term. Thus knowledge of essence or ofwhat something is implies the truth of ideas and knowledge of fact or knowl-edge-that implies the truth of judgment.

From all this it follows that the end or perfection of the intellect is not justtruth but truth as known. And that is just what Aquinas states.14 For the intel-lect is true in a straightforward sense of ‘true’ when it has true belief. Yetsince this mere true belief falls short of being knowledge and it is better forthe intellect to know than merely to believe, then it is not just truth that is theend and good of the intellect but truth as known.

This knowledge of truth is achieved, says Aquinas, only in judgment andonly in those judgments in which the judger knows that the object of judg-ment conforms to his own idea of it. I have knowledge of truth and not justtruth when in judging that S is P I know that what S signifies conforms tomy idea of it in the predicate P. Thus, in truth as known, the mind knows itsown conformity to the thing known. This occurs only in knowledge-that andnot either in sense perception or in simple apprehension.15 Thus, supposethat I judge that a whole is greater than any one of its parts. Then, saysAquinas, I not only know this but in knowing it I know the conformity of thething known, i.e. a whole, to my own idea of it. In short, I have knowledgeof truth. By contrast, suppose that I judge truly but without knowledge thatJones has left town. Though my judgment is straightforwardly and strictlyspeaking true, I fail to apprehend the conformity between Jones and my ideaabout him. Thus, while truth is in my intellect knowledge of truth or truth asknown is not.

Mind is perfected in another way too in judgment. For in the view ofAquinas true judgment has the function of amplifying the knowledge of athing that is gained by simple apprehension. In so doing it is perfective ofsimple apprehension. To spell it out, it belongs to the nature of a materialthing, says Aquinas, to exist in some individual.16 Thus, it belongs to the na-ture of a stone to exist in an individual stone. But in simple apprehension thenature of a material thing is known as abstracted from existence in an indi-vidual thing. In simply apprehending the nature of stone, I abstract from theexistence it has in this or that individual stone. Since, then, it belongs to the

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nature of material things to be in individual things and since that is not howthose natures are known in simple apprehension, it follows that the mindneeds to return to the phantasms or images of such things in order to havemore complete and accurate knowledge of material natures. But this return tothe phantasm is accomplished by judgment.17 In judging that this object is astone the mind overcomes the abstractness of the simple apprehension ofstone and predicates that nature of an individual. In so doing it knows stoneaccording to its nature since it now knows stone as existing in a particularstone.18

TRUTH AND MIND

Since, then, truth in the sense of conformity to thing is always for Aquinas aconformity of mind to thing, it follows that truth in that sense is in mind.Moreover, since for him truth in that same sense is strictly speaking predica-ble of judgments and judgments, as beings of reason, are in minds, it followsthat truth is in minds. Finally, that truth is in mind and not in things is shownby falsity.19 Being contraries, truth and falsity are found in the same thing.But since falsity is in mind and not in things, so too is truth. That falsity is inminds is shown by its being a privation. Aquinas holds that like evil, blind-ness, or deafness, falsity is not either a thing in its own right or even somereal accident of a thing. It is instead the absence of some character or relationin a thing which, if present, would make it better than it is. Intellect is falsejust when its judgment fails to conform to the facts, i.e. when it lacks that con-formity which, if present, would bring it more in line with its end. For its endis truth as known and truth as known includes truth and excludes falsehood.Thus, falsity is the privation in mind of something which mind naturallyought to have.

Whenever one judges that S is P one claims that the thing signified by thesubject conforms to the predicate. And since a predicate signifies a form of thething as apprehended by the mind, then in judging that S is P one affirms thatthe thing signified by the subject conforms to one’s idea of it in mente. Whenthe judgment is true, then the thing signified by the subject really does con-form to the predicate, though one knows that conformity only in those judg-ments that convey knowledge of truth or truth as known. But when the judg-ment is false the thing signified by the subject does not, of course, conform toour idea of it in the predicate. In false judgment, therefore, there is no second-order knowledge of the likeness of the thing known to the idea of it in the mindsince there is no such likeness to begin with. Nonetheless, even in falsely judg-ing that S is P I not only assert something about S but I also allege that the

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thing signified by S conforms to how I understand it in and through the pred-icate P. I claim not only that S has the property P but also (and because of that)that the thing signified by S conforms to the way I understand it.20 Thus, evenin false judgment, says Aquinas, the difference between judging and sensing isclear. A particular sense perception may be illusory. But the sense power inquestion is neither conscious of nor does it affirm that the thing sensed con-forms to the way it senses it. But even when one falsely judges that S is P oneis simultaneously conscious of one’s own false knowledge i.e. of the allegedconformity of the thing to one’s own idea of it.21 Thus, false judgment claimssecond-order or reflective knowing just as true judgment does.

In any event, the following passages indicate the views of Aquinas i) thattruth in us is not just first-order knowledge of the thing known but also sec-ond-order knowledge of the likeness of the thing known to our concept of itand ii) that judgment is the bearer of this truth. Contrasting simple apprehen-sion and judgment Aquinas says,

And although the intellect has within itself a likeness of the things known ac-cording as it forms concepts of incomplex things, it does not for that reasonmake a judgment about this likeness. This occurs only when it combines or sep-arates. For when the intellect forms a concept of mortal rational animal, it haswithin itself a likeness of man; but it does not for that reason know that it hasthis likeness, since it does not judge that “Man is a mortal rational animal.”There is truth and falsity, then, only in this second operation of intellect, ac-cording to which it not only possesses a likeness of the thing known but also re-flects on this likeness by knowing it and by making a judgment about it. Henceit is evident from this that truth is not found in things but only in the mind, andthat depends upon combination and separation.22

And once again,

. . . For although sight has the likeness of a visible thing, yet it does not know thecomparison which exists between the thing seen and that which it itself is appre-hending concerning it. But the intellect can know its own conformity with the in-telligible thing; yet it does not apprehend it by knowing of a thing what a thingis. When, however, it judges that a thing corresponds to the form which it appre-hends about the thing, then it knows and expresses truth. This it does by com-posing and dividing: for in every proposition it either applies to, or removes from,the thing signified by the subject some form signified by the predicate. . . .23

JUDGMENT AND REASON VERSUS INTUITIVE KNOWLEDGE

Moreover, Aquinas thinks that we require both judgment and reasoning ascompensation for and as aids to our inadequate intuitive or apprehensive

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power. It is due to the weakness of the intellectual light of our understandingin apprehending the essences of things that our intellects need to functionjudgmentally and discursively.24 True, we know something of the essence ofa material thing in simple apprehension. But our intellectual intuition is lim-ited. Unlike God or angels, we cannot grasp all at once everything that is vir-tually contained in those essences.25 We can only do this in stages and by actsother than intuition or simple apprehension. In and through these follow-upacts, i.e. the composing and dividing of judgment and the deduction of rea-son, we gradually advance and perfect the imperfect knowledge that is firsthad in simple apprehension.26 Thus, knowledge acquired by apprehension isperfected by knowledge gained by composing and dividing in true judg-ment.27 And the knowledge gained by true judgment is in turn perfected bythe knowledge achieved when from these same true judgments true conclu-sions are drawn by reason. Thus,

. . . the human intellect does not acquire perfect knowledge of a thing by first ap-prehension; but it first apprehends something of the thing, such as its quiddity,which is the first and proper object of the intellect; and then it understands the prop-erties, accidents, and various dispositions affecting the essence. Thus it necessarilyrelates one thing to another by composition and division; and from one composi-tion and division it necessarily proceeds to another, and this is reasoning.28

SIMPLE APPREHENSION, JUDGMENT AND REASON COMPARED

Finally, since for Aquinas the perfection of a thing is its good and the good ofanything is its end, it can be said that true judgment is the end and good ofsimple apprehension even as reason is the end and good of true judgment. Asapprehension is for the sake of true judgment, and true judgment is for thesake of sound reasoning, it follows that the crowning perfection of the humanmind consists in its discursive function, in its correctly drawing conclusionsfrom true premises.

This is reflected in Aquinas’s definition of a human being. In any defini-tion the difference is taken from form where ‘form’ has the sense of the end,good or perfection of the definiendum. Thus, animal is defined as the sentientorganism because sentience is form in the sense of the entelechy or perfectionof animal. Going by this view of definition, Aquinas defines a human beingas the rational animal. But by ‘rational’ here Aquinas has something ratherspecific in mind. He does not mean by it simply having the power of abstractthought. ‘Rational’ for him is taken from ‘reason’ and reason in Aquinas al-ways refers to the discursive power, i.e. the power of deducing conclusionsfrom principles. To define a human being as the rational animal is therefore

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to say that the power of reasoning, i.e. of advancing from principles to theconclusions that are implied by those principles, is the end and perfection ofpersons taken just as persons.29

JUDGMENT AND EXISTENCE

From the fact that it belongs to the nature of material things to exist in indi-viduals and from the fact that this proper existential knowledge of materialnatures is achieved only when mind returns to the phantasm in judgment, itfollows in the view of Aquinas that all true judgments affirm existence. Thisalso follows from the status of judgment as second-order knowledge of theconformity of a thing taken as subject to our concept of it in the predicate.When I judge that Washington defeated the British at Yorktown, I claim thatWashington conforms to the idea I have of him as being the one who won thatbattle. And when I judge that Washington did not sign the Declaration of In-dependence I affirm that our First President conforms to the idea I have ofhim as being a non-signer of that document. What we always do in judgmentis to say that some particular thing (or things) accords with the way we un-derstand that thing in and through our abstract concept of it. Thus, all judg-ment is a comparison whereby we affirm that some thing conforms to ourconcept of it. When we do this, the thing we compare to our concept of it be-comes subject and the concept to which we compare it becomes predicate.Thus, a subject is not the thing itself but the thing taken as related to our con-cept of it. And a predicate is not the mere abstract concept itself but the con-cept to which some particular thing (or things) is said to conform. By thiscomparison of subject to predicate we overcome the abstractness that the lat-ter has as a mere concept by affirming that some particular thing (or things)exemplifies that concept. Concepts thus cease to be the merely abstract ideasof simple apprehension when they are put to use and become predicates ofsubjects. For then we affirm that some particular thing (or things) conformsto those concepts. That is why scholastic philosophers say that judgments af-firm existence whereas concepts do not.

Even when Smith judges that the crow is black where the subject-name is anoun and not a proper name, the object of Smith’s judgment is still not someseparated universal crow but any and all particular crows. Otherwise it is nota function of judgment to overcome the abstraction of simple apprehension byreturning to the phantasm, thereby knowing material natures as they truly are,i.e. as existing in individuals. Otherwise too, it is not the function of judgmentto select some particular thing (or things) and compare it to our concept of it,thereby once again overcoming the abstractness of simple apprehension.30

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REAL AND LOGICAL COMPOSITION

This reference to existence is in fact reflected, Aquinas thinks, in the contrastbetween the real composition of a thing and one of its properties and the log-ical composition of subject and predicate in a judgment. The former is a re-lation of a whole to one of its parts. And since no whole is its part, the twoare diverse. That is why it is senseless to say that the crow is blackness. Forblackness signifies a part and no whole is said to be one of its parts. But thelatter signifies the identity of those components in the existing thing. That iswhy we can sensibly say that the crow is black. For in saying that the crow isblack we do not predicate a part of a whole as we nonsensically do when wesay that the crow is blackness. We mean to assert instead that the crow issomething having blackness. Here the copula signifies identity and not diver-sity. In so doing it has existential import since it asserts that there is some-thing in which crow and blackness are united. Says Aquinas,

. . . Now in a material thing there is a twofold composition. First, there is the com-position of form with matter. To this corresponds that composition of the intellectwhereby the universal whole is predicated of its part: for the genus is derivedfrom common matter, while the difference that completes the species is derivedfrom the form, and the particular from individual matter. The second compositionis of accident with subject; and to this composition corresponds that compositionof the intellect whereby accident is predicated of subject, as when we say the manis white. Nevertheless, the composition of the intellect differs from the composi-tion of things; for the components in the thing are diverse, whereas the composi-tion of the intellect is a sign of the identity of the components. For the above com-position of the intellect was not such as to assert that man is whiteness; but theassertion, the man is white, means that the man is something having whiteness.In other words, man is identical in subject with the being having whiteness. It isthe same with the composition of form and matter. For animal signifies thatwhich has a sensitive nature; rational, that which has an intellectual nature; man,that which has both; and Socrates, that which has all these things together withindividual matter. And so, according to this kind of identity our intellect com-poses one thing with another by means of predication.31

OPEN AND CLOSED CONCEPTS

Speaking of predicates and predication in Aquinas, one can say that a predi-cate might be either a genus or a species. You can say that humans are ani-mals or that Plato is human. But you evidently cannot say that humans are theset of animals or that Plato is the set of humans. From this some might con-clude that a predicate is not just another name for a set.

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Spelled out, the argument is this: 1) ‘Animals’ and ‘human’ are predicatedof humans and Plato, respectively. 2) But ‘animals’ and ‘human’ are a genusand a species, respectively. 3) So what is predicated of humans and Plato re-spectively here are a genus and a species. 4) But the set of animals and the setof humans are not, respectively, predicated of humans and Plato. Therefore,5) the genus ‘animals’ and the species ‘human’ are not, respectively, just othernames for the set of animals and the set of humans.

The mistake here is in 1). 1) is false because it confuses the vehicle of pred-ication with the object predicated. ‘Animals’ and ‘human’ are admittedly agenus and a species, respectively. But it is not ‘animals’ or ‘human’ in that or-der that are predicated of humans and Plato. It is animals and human. Just be-cause you use ‘animals’ and ‘human’ to predicate animals and human of hu-mans and Plato, respectively, it does not follow nor is it the case that‘animals’ and ‘human’ are what are predicated, again respectively, of humansand Plato. ‘Animals’ and ‘human’ are the vehicles of predication while ani-mals and human are the objects of predication. Recall the scholastic distinc-tion between id quod and id quo. ‘Animals’ and ‘human’ are the id quo (thatby which) animal and human are predicated of humans and of Plato. But an-imals and humans are id quod (that which) are predicated of humans andPlato, respectively.

Yet despite the failure of this argument for 5), 5) is nonetheless true. Apredicate is not just another name for a set. A predicate is necessarily of some-thing as its signatum. The predicate ‘human’ is of or about the property hu-man. In this a predicate is like an idea which is always of some ideatum. Bycontrast, a set is not of something as its signatum. True, a set is necessarilythe set of something. But the ‘of’ here is genitive and not intentional. Whatfollows the ‘of’ in ‘set of’ belongs to a set as geese belong to a flock. Thus,‘set of animals’ is like ‘flock of geese.’ But what predicates are of or aboutdoes not belong to predicates. They are not to predicates as geese are to aflock but as external signata are to their signs. That is why predicates but notsets can be said to have sense and reference. For only signs have sense andreference. True, sets can be signified by signs. But unlike predicates they arenot themselves signs.

Exactly how predicates signify comes out only by understanding the natureof the subject-predicate tie. The latter becomes clear when two puzzles ofpredication are raised and solved. The puzzles and their solutions come fromAquinas.32 The answers to both define the copula or subject-predicate tie. Inso doing they shed light on what figures in that relation, including the notionof a predicate.

The first puzzle is a dilemma. One might name it the dilemma of predi-cates. The lion that is predicated of Leo is either particular or universal. In ei-

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ther case predication is pre-empted. No particular is predicated of a subject.And if it is the universal lion that is predicated of Leo, then the particularthing Leo is said to be a universal. If Leo is a lion and lion is a universal thenthe absurdity follows that Leo is a universal.33 Yet we do truly say that Leo isa lion. How is that possible?

Aquinas escapes the dilemma by recourse to the idea of an essence takenabsolutely, i.e. taken apart from any mode of existence. To spell it out, the‘lion’ that is here predicated of Leo is neither particular nor universal.34 True,any thing is either particular or universal but what the predicate ‘lion’ signi-fies is not a thing. It is lion taken in abstraction from how it is either in par-ticular things like Leo or in universal things like concepts. By analogy, sup-pose that the same person Jones both jogs in the morning and golfs in theafternoon. Just as the jogging-mode and the golfing-mode are accidental toJones who is susceptible of taking on either one, so too are the particular anduniversal modes accidental to lion which can take on either one, dependingon whether it exists in re or in mente. It is therefore something neutral be-tween the two just as Jones is something neutral between his two modes. Thisneutral core is a possible of which Leo and the concept lion are two actua-tions. It is what Aquinas calls essence.

One might approach the second problem by noting the formality of math-ematical concepts. Concepts like threeness and triangularity signify thoseproperties to the exclusion of anything that happens to be three or triangular,such as three swans or a triangular kite. That is why they are closed concepts,signifying form alone apart from matter. And just because they are closed(formal) and not open (material) concepts. Taken as cut off from any thingsthat exemplify them, these mathematical concepts denote but do not connote.Triangularity denotes that by which something is a triangle to the exclusionof anything that happens to be triangular. Moreover, they are not just formalbut purely formal concepts. That is because matter is not included in their def-initions.

Suppose, then, that ‘lion,’ by means of which lion is predicated of Leo, sig-nifies lion to the exclusion of those things that are lions. Then, like ‘three-ness’ and ‘triangularity,’ ‘lion’ signifies form alone apart from matter. It sig-nifies the property of being a lion as severed from individual lions. To keepthe parallelism with threeness and triangularity, call it the concept lionhood.Because it is taken in precision from the things that exemplify it, lionhood de-notes without connoting, just as do ‘threeness’ and ‘triangularity.’ The differ-ence is that, unlike ‘threeness’ and ‘triangularity,’ ‘lionhood’ is not a purelyformal concept. Matter evidently enters into its definition.

What follows from this is that all formal concepts, mathematical or other-wise, are impredicable. They are decent enough concepts. It is just that they

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are closed and not open concepts. And just for that reason do they fail to belogical concepts. You can no more say that these swans are threeness or thatthat object is circularity than you can say that Leo is lionhood. The reason isthat, having denotation only, these closed concepts signify a part and not thewhole of their subjects. That is because they signify the form of the subjectas cut off from its matter. So predicating lionhood of Leo is non-sensical be-cause it says that a whole is one of its parts.

The solution is perhaps evident. It is to identify predicates with open andnot with closed concepts. Open concepts are the five predicables of classicallogic. I refer to genus, species, difference, property and accident. We can say“Leo is a lion” but not “Leo is lionhood.” That is because ‘lion’ is a predica-ble, in this case a species. Like ‘lionhood,’ the predicate ‘lion’ signifies theform or definition of a lion. But it does so differently. The former signifies itas a part while the latter signifies it as a whole.35 In “Leo is a lion” the pred-icate ‘lion’ is not severed from the subject that exemplifies it. It inchoately in-cludes it. That is what is meant by saying that predicates connote their sub-jects. Even as it denotes the form or definition of a lion (which is the same forall lions) the predicate ‘lion’ in “Leo is a lion” connotes the individual Leo.Therefore, ‘lion’ is predicated of Leo without predicating a part of a whole.Just because ‘lion’ includes the whole of what Leo is and ‘lionhood’ does not,‘lion’ but not ‘lionhood’ is predicable of Leo.

What do these solutions tell us about the copula or subject-predicate tie?To answer, note first that these solutions hang on distinguishing sense and ref-erence in predicate terms. In ‘Leo is a lion’ the predicate ‘lion’ denotes a cer-tain objective sense or essence which is found in Leo as well as in Larry,Lester, and every other lion. At the same time it refers by connotation to thewhole individual Leo of which the sense or essence lion is a part.

That predicates have sense and reference, though, is not primitive but fol-lows the dual function of judgment. Judgment, says Locke, not only keepstwo ideas apart but also brings them together.36 In judging that S is P I bothdistinguish P from S and unite P with S. It is this diversity-in-unity that de-mands that predicates have sense and reference, respectively. Insofar as I dis-tinguish P from S, P denotes a character which I pull out of the subject for thesake of analysis. The subject from which I extract that sense is, like the pred-icate, a logical and not a real entity. It is from my idea of some substance andnot from the substance itself that I cull the sense or character that is signifiedby the predicate. Otherwise false judgments go unaccounted for. Thus thecopula signifies the relation of a complex idea to some feature that enters intoit. Viewed from this standpoint, predicates are separated from their subjectsby the device of abstraction. They are extracted from their subjects by mindin its effort understand those subjects. The ‘is’ here is therefore the ‘is’ of

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analysis. To use the terminology of the tradition, it is the ‘is’ of essence as op-posed to the ‘is’ of existence.

But insofar as I unite P with S, P refers to the same individual to which thesubject refers. The same real individual that is named by the subject is re-ferred to by the predicate. This device of referential identity overcomes andcounterbalances the device of abstraction. It reflects mind’s intent to say thatthe character signified by the predicate is in reality united to and never sepa-rated from the individual that is named by the subject. So here the copula isthe ‘is’ of synthesis or what the tradition calls the ‘is’ of existence as opposedto the ‘is’ of essence. Taking both functions of judgment together—the ana-lytic and the synthetic—is equivalent to taking both devices together, ab-straction and referential identity. Under that consideration it is then true to saythat the copula-relation in any subject-predicate judgment is a logical iden-tity-in-difference of subject and predicate reflecting, in case the judgment istrue, the real identity-in-difference of substance and property.

MIND, JUDGMENT AND GOODNESS

One final point about the relation of true judgment, mind and goodness inAquinas. As judgment is the end of simple apprehension so too is truth theend of mind. From what has been just said, it is more precise to say that mindaims at truth in the sense of true conclusions. And since end for him has thenature of good, it follows that truth in the sense of true conclusions is thegood of mind. Mind is to truth as appetite or tendency is to that which fulfills,satisfies or completes that appetite or tendency. For always in Aquinas is itthe case that good is the terminus of a natural tendency or appetite. For ex-ample, since matter naturally tends to form, form is the good of matter; andsince potentiality naturally tends to act, act is the good of potentiality. Since,then, good is what fulfills a natural tendency, any such tendency is calledgood not because it is itself good but because it is related to good as thatwhich tends toward good. In other words, since good is in the object, ten-dency toward that object is called good only because the object is good. Thus,a person’s desire is called good in the moral sense only because what he orshe desires is good. Good thus passes on from the object to the tendency. Ourintellect, then, is called good only because it tends toward its good or objectwhich is truth. But with truth it works the other way. Truth does not pass onfrom objects to something else but from something else to objects. Since truthis in the mind and not in the object, objects are called true not because theyare in themselves true but because they are related to a mind that is true. Re-call that natural objects are called true only because they either measure our

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minds or are measured by God’s mind. Truth thus passes on from mind to ob-jects.37

ONTOLOGICAL TRUTH AND PRACTICAL TRUTH

As was said at the outset, mind as conformed to things in judgment is the re-alist aspect of truth. It is truth in mind taken as conformed to things. ButAquinas holds that truth in mind is also something to which things conformor are conformable. Under this idealist aspect of truth, it is thing or being thatis said to be conformed or to be conformable to mind and not the other wayaround. Here, the point of reference and measure of truth is mind and notthing.38

Viewed from this angle, ‘true’ applies to things in reference to or as or-dained to mind in two ways. First, things are looked on as being conformableto our minds. One thing that means is that they can be known by us. And thatis because the same structure that exists really in them can also exist inten-tionally in our minds. In that way are things said to be conformable to ourminds. Thus, Fido is conformable to my mind in that the same dogness thatexists particularly in Fido can exist universally in mind when I come to knowwhat Fido is. In that way can it be said that Fido is conformable to my mind.Or again, the real composite or fact of Fido’s sleeping on his mat is con-formable to my mind in that the same complex or state of affairs of Fido’ssleeping on his mat can exist intentionally in the judgment I make to that ef-fect. Second, things are considered as being conformed to God’s mind in thatthey exemplify divine Ideas. Thus, any particular creature exemplifies thepattern or Idea of it that exists eternally and ante rem in the mind of God. Tothe extent that dogness in Fido is modeled after the timeless Idea of Dognessin God, Fido is conformed to God’s infinite mind even as he is conformableto our own finite minds. Third, artifacts are considered as conformed to theminds of artists when they exemplify the mental models that are present in theminds of those artists.

These three ways in which things are true by dint of being ordained tomind, be it ours or God’s, are both the same and different. They are the samebecause the things in question are in each case called true in an improper andsecondary sense of the term. For properly speaking truth is only in mind andnot in things. They are (improperly) called true only because they are relatedto something that properly is true, i.e mind. It is analogous to the case of foodor environment which are called healthy only because they are related to whatis really healthy, i.e. animals. And they are in a secondary sense called truebecause they are exemplifications of something else as exemplar or model.

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But they are different in that when things are called true because they are con-formable to our minds, the relation of things to mind is one of measure tomeasured, exemplar to exemplatum. For as was said, the real composition ofmatter and form or of substance and accident is the exemplary cause of thelogical composition in judgment of subject and predicate. But when things arecalled true because they conform to the Ideas of them in God’s mind, then therelation of things to intellect is one of measured to measure, of modeled tomodel. But whether things are called true because they are conformable tomind or because they are conformed to either a human mind or God’s mind,they are called true only because they are related to something else in whichalone truth is properly found, namely, mind.

CATEGORIES OF TRUTH AND THEIR RELATIONS

The relations between proper and improper truth on the one hand and primaryand secondary truth on the other are as follows.39 All that is primarily true isproperly true but not all that is properly true is primarily true. Our judgmentsare properly speaking true but, since their truth is caused by things, they arenot true in the primary sense. But truth in God’s mind is found both properlyand primarily. For here the subject of truth is mind and not thing. What ismore, truth in God’s mind is cause or measure without in any sense beingcaused or measured. Analogously, this practical or productive truth in God isalso found in human beings. It is found in them in their capacity as artists orcrafts-persons. The ideas or archetypes of artists, after which they model theirartifacts, correspond to the divine Ideas, after which God creates naturalthings. Such models are true in the proper sense since they are found in mind.But they are not true in the primary sense. True, the creative ideas of artistsare not modeled after some real exemplar. Otherwise they are not creative inthe human sense but mere copies of other things. But this practical truth in themind of a human artist falls short of truth in the mind of the Creator. That isbecause it shares the status of the mind on which it depends and from whichit issues. And that mind, the human mind, is dependent and secondary. For itis caused by and modeled after the Idea of the human mind in the mind ofGod. It follows that the humanly creative ideas of artists and crafts-personsare true in a secondary and not in the primary sense.

Finally, while all that is improperly true is secondarily true, not all that is sec-ondarily true is improperly true. As for the former, all that is improperly true iseither a natural thing or an artifact. But both are secondarily true since they arecaused or measured by mind, divine or human. Therefore, all that is improperlytrue is secondarily true. As for the latter, our judgments are secondarily true

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since they are measured by things. But they are nonetheless properly speakingtrue since they are found in mind.

Aquinas also distinguishes logical (propositional) and ontological truth.40

This is the truth of judgment as opposed to the truth of things. The distinctionturns on whether mind is called true because it is measured by a thing orwhether a thing is called true because it is measured by a mind.41 The formeris logical truth while the latter is ontological truth. Since in either case it is amatter of measured truth and not truth that is measure, whatever is logicallyor ontologically true is true in a secondary sense. The converse also holds.What is true in a secondary sense is either logically or ontologically true.

‘Logical truth’ in this context does not characterize those truths or judg-ments which it is self-contradictory to deny. It refers to propositional or judg-mental truth. Thus, if some apples are green then the judgment “Some applesare green” is true in the logical sense no less than is “All apples are apples.”As for ontological truth, Aquinas calls natural things true in this sense be-cause they are modeled after mind. Thus, things like tulips and tigers are truein this sense because they exemplify the Ideas of Tulip and Tigerhood inGod’s mind. This is not truth that depends on human minds. However, thereis a kind of human ontological truth. An artifact such as the Mona Lisa is on-tologically true in that it measures up to the model of it in DaVinci’s the mind.All things whatsoever, judgments included, are ontologically true, but judg-ments alone are logically true.

In this connection, Aquinas says that judgments have truth both in the on-tological and in the logical sense.42 Besides being true because they measureup to the Idea of a Judgment in God’s mind, some judgments are also true be-cause they jibe with and are measured by the real. To the extent that any judg-ment conforms to the Idea of it in God’s mind, it is ontologically true. No gen-uine judgment is false in this sense of ‘true.’ But a judgment might alsoconform to things and hence be logically true. But in this same propositionalsense of ‘true’ a judgment might contradict the facts and hence be false.

Now what is intriguing is that what makes our intellect qua knowing logi-cally true is the same thing that makes it ontologically true.43 Like anythingelse, our mind is ontologically true in knowing something just when it exem-plifies the form proper to its nature. In knowing intellectually, mind conformsto the divine Exemplar of human nature taken as source of distinctly humanactivity.44 Moreover, in the case of mind alone, the form proper to it quaknowing is the form of another. Paradoxically, intellect acts as mind (i.e. itknows) just when it takes on the form of something else. That is what Aristo-tle meant by saying that in its act of knowing mind is in a sense all things.45

Mind in act is ontologically true just when the form it exemplifies is the formof another. But for mind to have in it the form of another so that there is a

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likeness between it and that other is just what is meant by calling mind logi-cally true. For by this likeness mind conforms to things and is hence true inthat same sense. Therefore, only of mind in act is it truly said that its beinglogically true is equivalent to its being ontologically true.

St. Thomas also distinguishes essential and accidental truth.46 This is againa division of secondary truth. Whatever is secondarily true is either essen-tially or accidentally true and vice versa. And since all secondary truth is mea-sured truth, then all that is either essentially or accidentally true is measuredtruth. Something y is essentially speaking true if and only if (i) y is known bysome mind m which is distinct from y and (ii) m is the measure of y. Thus,because they are both known and measured by God’s mind, all natural thingsare essentially true. Something z is accidentally true if and only if (i) z isknown by some mind m from which it is distinct and (ii) z is not measured bym. For example, a tree is accidentally true just because it is known but notmeasured by our minds. It follows that in the view of Aquinas the same thing,i.e. the tree, is both essentially and accidentally true depending on whether itis taken in relation to the divine mind or to the human mind.

Joined with two Aristotelian axioms, the notions of essential and acciden-tal truth imply that truth is strictly speaking found in mind. And assumingthese same axioms, it also works the other way around. The axioms in ques-tion are these: (1) that a thing is judged by what it is essentially and not bywhat it is accidentally, and (2) that when a thing y is called G only because itis the effect of another thing, x, of which G is predicated, then G is strictly orproperly found properly in x and not y. To bring out (1), since it is accidentalto a tree that it is known by some person R, we do not define what a tree isby adverting to R or to R’s knowledge of a tree. However, it is not accidentalto the notion of an artifact that it is made by an artist. Therefore, we do ad-vert to an artist in saying what an artifact is. To explain (2), since we callevents sad only because they make people sad, sadness is found properly inpersons and not in events. So if something is called true in the essential senseonly because it is both known and measured by some mind m and if (2) istrue, then it follows that truth is strictly or properly found in minds. Thingsother than minds are then improperly called true. From all of this, then, thefollowing definitions emerge:

T1 y is properly speaking true =df (i) y is in mind and (ii) y either measuressomething x in reality or y is measured by x

T2 y is in improperly speaking true =df (i) y is some real thing and (ii) ei-ther y measures some mind z or y is measured by z

T3 y is primarily speaking true =df (i) y is properly speaking true, (ii) ymeasures some contingent thing x and (iii) y is an unmeasured measure

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T4 y is secondarily speaking true =df (i) y is either properly or improperlyspeaking true and (ii) y is in some sense measured either by some mind z orby some thing x

T5 y is logically (judgmentally) true =df (i) y is properly speaking true, (ii)y is secondarily speaking true and (iii) y is measured by some thing x

T6 y is ontologically true =df (i) y is either properly or improperly speak-ing true, (ii) y is secondarily speaking true and (iii) y is measured by somemind z

T7 y is essentially speaking true =df (i) y is secondarily speaking true, (ii)y is known by some mind z and (iii) y depends on and is measured by z

T8 y is accidentally speaking true =df (i) y is secondarily speaking true, (ii)y is known by some mind z and (iii) y neither depends on nor is measured by z

SOME IMPLICATIONS

By these definitions only God’s mind is primarily and properly true. If ourminds were destroyed then truth would remain in the divine mind. But if thedivine mind were destroyed (which is impossible) so too would all truth bedestroyed.47 As for our minds, they are properly but secondarily true whilenatural and artificial things are both improperly and secondarily true.48 Thisechoes Aquinas’s idea that a thing has truth the same way it has being.49 Ourminds as well as all contingent things are caused and what is caused is beingin a secondary sense. So our minds and things have secondary truth. Our truejudgments too are caused or measured by things. It is because snow is whitethat my judgment, “Snow is white” is true.50 So both our minds and the truejudgments they deliver are secondarily true. The former are measured by theIdea of the human mind in the divine mind whereas the latter are measuredboth by the Idea of a human judgment in the divine mind as well as by facts.

All eight definitions include the idea of one thing measuring another.Aquinas accepts the Augustinian idea that if one thing measures another, thenthe former is to that extent superior to the latter.51 Recall St. Augustine’s state-ment that though our minds measure our senses, judging how they work, ourminds are themselves measured by truth.52 But truth is unmeasured measuresince nothing measures truth. St. Augustine then identifies truth or the un-measured measure with God. For both philosophers, nothing that measuresanother thing is its effect but sometimes its cause. Both hold that the divineIdeas are the exemplary causes of created things as well as their measure. Butthough they measures our senses, judging over them, our minds no morecause our senses than thermometers, which measure heat, cause heat.

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The relation of measure to measured in T1 through T8 refers to a particu-lar cause-effect relation. It is the relation of exemplary cause. Exemplarycauses for Aquinas are a type of formal cause. Like Plato’s Forms, they areformal causes that are separate from their effects instead of being those for-mal causes (such as the humanity of Socrates) that are constitutive of their ef-fects. The measure is exemplary cause whereas what is measured is its exem-platum or effect. Exemplary causes are patterns after which exemplata aremade. The latter are similar to their respective patterns. These patterns mightbe true either in the proper sense or in an improper sense of ‘true.’ As forpropositional or logical truth, the patterns are improperly speaking true. Thatis because they are things or facts and not minds. The real combination of theaccident musical and the substance Plato is the real model or pattern of thelogical combination of subject and predicate in my judgment that Plato is mu-sical. Since the subject-predicate combination is patterned after and is causedby the former real combination of substance and accident, the former is themeasure or exemplary cause of the latter.

Moreover, the model is either primarily or secondarily true. It is the lat-ter when natural things measure our minds but the former when the divineIdeas measure natural things. In addition, the model or exemplary form iseither essentially or accidentally true. Natural things that measure ourmind are essentially true in relation to the divine intellect but accidentallytrue in relation to our mind. For they are made after God’s ideas and notours.

Finally, the relation of model to modeled implies an agent cause. In on-tological truth the agent measures but in the case of judgmental or logicaltruth the agent is measured. In the former, the measure is in the mind of theagent, human or divine, who measures according to it. But in the case ofthe latter the measure is separate from the agent whose mind is measuredby it. Thus, God fashions creatures after His Ideas and artists create arti-facts after their artistic models. But in and through the true judgmentswhich we make about things, it is our minds that are measured by thosethings. But the difference between the things measured in ontological andjudgmental truth, respectively, is this. In the former, what is measured ispurely passive. Natural things have no more say or active role in their cre-ation than does clay in the hands of a potter. But though our minds aremeasured by things in propositional or logical truth and so are passive,they nonetheless make the judgments that are so measured. It is we whocombine and separate subjects and predicates, thereby making the veryjudgments the truth of which is measured by facts or things. So it is thatwhile judgments depend on facts for their truth, they none the less dependon minds for their being.

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NOTES

1. Aquinas, Summa theologica , trans. A. Pegis (New York: The Modern Library,1948), I q16 a1, 168–71.

2. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, trans. J.P. Rowan(Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1961), VI.L.4: C1227, 480.

3. The answer to ths question in what follows is more fully developed in my“Subjectivity and Objectivity in Truth.” See Acta Philosophica II, 14, 2005, 299–312.See also my “Conceptualism and Truth,” Ratio vol. XIII no. 3. Sept. 2000, 234–38.

4. ———, Summa theologica I q85 a6, 416–17.5. ———, Summa theologica I q17 a3, 187–88.6. Bertrand Russell, The Problems of Philosophy (London: Oxford University

Press, 1970),46–52.7. Aquinas, Summa theologica I q17 a3, 188.8. ———, Summa theologica I q17, a4, 174–75.9. Josiah Royce, “The Possibility of Error” in The Religious Aspect of Philoso-

phy (Boston: Houghton, Mifflin, 1885), 385–433.10. Aquinas, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72.11. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72.12. ———, Summa theologica I q85 a5, 414–16.13. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle IX. L.11: C 1898, 700.14. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72.15. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72.16. ———, Summa theologica I q84 a7, 397.17. Aquinas links the return to the phantasm with the proposition which is the

work of judgment. See ———, Summa theologica I q86 a1, 423–24; I q85 a5 2,414–16.

18. ———, Summa theologica I q84 a7, 396–97.19. ———, Summa theologica I q17 a1, 183–84.20. ———, Summa theologica I q17 a3, 177–78.21. ———, Summa theologica I q17 a3, 187–88.22. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics VI.L.4: C1236, 482.23. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72.24. ———, Summa theologica I q58 a4; See also, I q85 a5.25. ———, Summa theologica I q85 a5, 414–15. See also, ———, Summa theologica

in Pegis, ed. The Basic Writings of St. Thomas Aquinas (New York: Random House,1945), vol. I, I q58 a4, 543.

26. ———, Summa theologica I q85 a5, 414–15.27. Aquinas states that understanding pertains to apprehension but that wisdom

(which is higher than understanding) pertains to judgment. See Aquinas, Commentaryon Aristotle’s De Anima, trans. K. Foster and S. Humphries (New Haven: Yale Univ.Press, 1965), III.3 #629, 381–82; III.4 #672,402–03.

28. ———, Summa theologica in Introduction to St. Thoms Aquinas, trans. Pegis(New York:1948), I q85 a5, 414–15; See also ———, Summa theologica I q17 a3,188–89.

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29. This is the final natural and not the final supernatural perfection of persons.The latter for Aquinas consists in acquaintance with God in the next life or what hecalls the Beatific Vision.

30. For a lucid, modern account of this relation between apprehension and judgmentsee H.B. Veatch, Intentional Logic (New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1952), 164–169.

31. Aquinas, Summa theologica I q85 a5 reply obj.3, 415–16.32. ———, On Being and Essence, trans.A. Maurer (Toronto: Pontifical Institute of

Medieval Studies, 1949), ch.2–3, 30–42.33. ———, On Being and Essence, ch.3, 42.34. ———, On Being and Essence, ch. 3, 40–41.35. ———, On Being and Essence, ch. 2, 37–38.36. John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, ed. A. S. Pringle-

Pattison (Oxford: Oxford Univ. Press, 1960), 9337. Summa theologica I q16 a1,169–70.38. Summa theologica I q16 a1; See also ———, Disputed Questions on Truth in

J.F. Anderson trans. An Introduction to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas(Chicago:Henry Regnery, 1953), q I a2, 67–8.

39. In this section I use material and the line of argument taken from my “Truthand Judgment in Aquinas,” in The Modern Schoolman, LXXVI, Nov. 1998.

40. Summa theologica I q16 a8, 180–82; I q16a1, 168–71; I q16 a5, 175–6.41. Summa theologica I q16 a5.42. Summa theologica I q16 a8 reply obj. 3, 182.43. Summa theologica I q16 a. 2, 171–2.44. Aquinas says that taken as the source of the activities of creatures the exem-

plar of divine wisdom has the character of law. See Summa theologica I-II q93, a1,628–30.

45. Aristotle, De Anima, III, 8 (431b, 21).46. Aquinas, Summa theologica I q16, a1, 168–71.47. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth in Pegis, trans. An Introduction to the

Metaphsics of St. Thomas Aquinas, qI a2, 68.48. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth, qI a4, 69–70.49. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, II. L2: C 298,122.50. ———, Summa Theologiae I q16 a8; See also ———, Commentary on the Meta-

physics of Aristotle, V. L9: C896,346–347.51. St. Augustine, “On the Free Choice of the Will,” in Medieval Philosophy, eds.

Baird and Kaufmann (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 2003) book II, 5–6, 78–80.52. ———, “On the Free Choice of the Will,” Book II, 12, 13, 89–91.

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VARIOUS VIEWS ON UNIVERSALS

The doctrine of divine Ideas to which reference was previously made sug-gests the fundamental issue of universals. And from what has been said, it isclear that on this issue too, Aquinas falls between Plato and Aristotle. The is-sue is sometimes put in the form of the question, “Do universals or essencesexist independently of minds?” But this begs the question about universalssince it assumes that universals exist at least in minds. And this is denied bynominalists. More accurately, the issue is put as follows: “Do universals haveontological status of any sort?”1

The negative reply to this question is nominalism. Realism and conceptu-alism are the positive answers. Aquinas sides with the realists. He holds thatuniversals have being when the word ‘universal’ has the sense of essence. Buthe shuns both conceptualism and nominalism. Against the former, he deniesthat universals are in minds only when ‘universal’ has that same sense ofessence. Yet he is hardly a Platonic realist. With Aristotle, he denies that uni-versals are ever separated from particulars. These particulars are either natu-ral substances, human minds, or God.2 This thesis that universals can existseparately from minds but not separately from both individual minds (humanor divine) and individual bodies is moderate realism. As regards the latter, itsides with conceptualism and departs from Platonic realism. As regards theformer, it joins Platonic realism and shuns conceptualism. Finally, it agreeswith nominalism only in denying Platonic or separated universals.

Moderate realism might easily be confused with conceptualism. Under thelatter, universals exist only as abstract general ideas. Thus do conceptualistspart company with nominalists like Berkeley and Hume who deny abstract

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ideas. But conceptualists are one with nominalists and stand against moder-ate realists in denying anything common among real individuals. In any case,all this yields the following definitions :

A person r is an Platonic realist = df r believes that universals exist transcen-dently i.e. independently of matter and minds.

A person r is a nominalist =df (i) r denies that universals exist either tran-scendently or otherwise.

A person r is a conceptualist =df (i) r affirms that universals exist only in hu-man minds and (ii) r denies that universals have a foundation in things.

A person r is a moderate realist =df r denies that universals exist transcen-dently and (ii) r affirms that universals exist in matter and in human minds.

A person r is an Aristotelian realist =df (i) r is a moderate realist and (ii) r doesnot affirm that universals exist in God’s mind.

A person r is a Thomistic realist =df (i) r is a moderate realist and (ii) r af-firms that universals exist in God’s mind.

‘UNIVERSAL’ AS AMBIGUOUS

Nevertheless, the word ‘universal’ is not always synonymous with ‘essence.’In the thought of Aquinas, the word ‘universal’ strictly speaking refers not toessence but to concept.3 For Aquinas universals are concepts and not the ob-jects of concepts. Further, since concepts are not real beings but beings of rea-son, it follows that universals exist only in minds, according to Aquinas. Thisdoes not mean that Aquinas is a conceptualist, however. When the latter saysthat universals exist only in minds, the word ‘universals’ is synonymous withthe word ‘essences.’ In this sense of the word ‘universals,’ Aquinas deniesthat universals exist only in minds. When, therefore, universals are identifiedwith concepts and not with the objects of concepts, a different set of defini-tions emerges. But this set is entirely compatible with the previous one. Thus,

A person r is a Platonic realist =df (i) r believes that there are universals and(ii) r believes that universals signify transcendent essences.

A person r is a nominalist =df r denies that there are either universals oressences.

A person r is a conceptualist =df (i) r believes that there are universals and (ii)r denies that universals signify essences, transcendent or otherwise.

A person r is a moderate realist =df (i) r believes that there are universals, (ii)r believes that universals signify essences and (iii) r affirms that suchessences do not exist transcendently but rather in matter and human minds.

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A person r is an Aristotelian realist =df (i) r is a moderate realist and (ii) r doesnot affirm that the essences signified by universals exist in the mind ofGod.

A person r is a Thomist realist =df (i) r is a moderate realist and (ii) r affirmsthat the essences signified by universals exist in the mind of God.

It can be said that for Aquinas, then, being universal is a way of being whichessence takes on as a result of being known. By us, essence is known univer-sally although that is not the way it really is. As for conceptualists, they toohold that things are known by us universally even though they exist particu-larly. The difference is that for conceptualists no essence or nature in the realworld corresponds to any universal concept which we form in our minds. Theythus join nominalists in holding that physical things are purely particular.

AQUINAS’S VIEW

From this Aquinas dissents. Otherwise, he would insist, Socrates and Plato,say, would not have the very same definition and they evidently do. Being arational animal is what Socrates and Plato are and this definition is commonboth to them and to all other humans. But this is the case only if being a ra-tional animal is not particular.4 The implication is that a particular likeSocrates is not purely particular but includes something non-particular. Thepurely particular in the view of Aquinas is a false abstraction. And as it is withSocrates, so is it with all other particulars. Though they are particular, theynonetheless include in them something non-particular. Each and every one ofthem includes some essence or species. Besides, if an essence like humanitywere intrinsically particular, it could never be universal. Yet it is universal inthought. When I understand the essence humanity, I do so by means of the ab-stract idea of humanity.

And yet, these same forms or essences that every particular includes are notintrinsically universal either. For in that case they could never be found inparticulars. Instead, they would always be found in an abstracted, generalizedway. But as evidenced by the fact that humanity is concrete and particular in,say, Plato, this is false. Therefore, concludes Aquinas,5 humanity or any otheressence or form G is neither particular nor universal. Being particular and be-ing universal are only accidental to G. The same is true of the characters ofbeing one and of being many. If humanity is by definition one, it could not bemany. And if it is by definition many, then it could not be one. But humanityis evidently many in Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. It is also evidently one inPlato. Therefore, humanity taken in and of itself is neither one nor many anymore than it is in and of itself either particular or universal.6

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This is conveniently expressed in terms of predication. If the human that ispredicated of Plato is by definition universal, then it follows that Plato is uni-versal. For if Plato is human and human is universal then Plato is universal.But if the human predicated of Plato is particular, i.e. includes the individu-ality of Plato, then human is impredicable of Aristotle or of any other person.Aquinas’s answer is that the human that is predicated of Plato is in itself nei-ther universal nor particular. This does not mean that humanity is ever foundin this neutral state, any more than a rose, say, is ever found without color.But just as any color a rose has, i.e. red, yellow, white, etc. is accidental to be-ing a rose, so too, any mode of existence an essence has, i.e. universal or par-ticular, is accidental to that essence. So it can be said that behind Aquinas’sescape from this dilemma of predication in logic is his distinction of essenceand existence in metaphysics.

PLATONIC REALISM

In the light of this, the errors of Platonic realism, nominalism and conceptu-alism can be distinguished. Each one harbors a nugget of truth. take Platonicrealism. In chapter xix of the Republic, Plato distinguishes knowledge andopinion. He says that knowledge answers to the real and has the real as its ob-ject. By contrast, appearance is the object of opinion.7 Further, since defini-tion is the device or vehicle of knowledge for Plato, then definition must cor-respond to the real or the thing defined. And since definition must always doso, immutability is required on the part of the definiendum. But since no sen-sible thing is immutable, it follows that knowing through definition is notknowing individual sensible things but separated universals. There is thus aone-to-one correspondence between the universality of definitions and theuniversality of their respective definienda. In the Parmenides, Plato fields theobjection that these Forms or universals exist only in mente.8 Partly to answerthe celebrated “third-man” objection to the Forms, Socrates proffers the hy-pothesis that the Forms are really only ideas in the mind. Speaking for Plato,Parmenides counters that thoughts must be thoughts of something other thanthemselves. In that case real Forms or universals are admitted after all. Be-sides, if Forms are nothing but ideas or thoughts, then to say that things par-take of Forms is to say either that all things think or that there are thoughtsthat do not think. By this dilemma, at least according to Plato, conceptualismis defeated.

Aquinas agrees that definitions are basic to knowledge. But he denies thatit follows that the objects of these universal definitions are real universals.Plato goes too far in his realism. This is shown by the fruits of that extremerealism. If like the definitions by which they are known the real is universal

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and separated from material conditions, then the oddity follows that thingslike real dirt and real stone are both universal and immaterial.

This shows the crux of Plato’s error. It is to confuse how something is withhow it is known.9 It is the mistake of reducing the real to the rational, of ra-tionalizing the real. And this is done to the detriment of the real. For the realis then construed as being abstract and universal instead of being (as it is)concrete and particular. The task for epistemology, as Aquinas sees it, is toavoid confusing the real with the rational without sacrificing the correspon-dence to reality required by knowledge. This is accomplished, says St.Thomas, by negotiating a unity-in-difference between knowledge and reality.Between a known object and the knowing of it is an essential (formal) iden-tity but an existential diversity. Intellect knows things only according to itsown way, which is abstract and universal. But that is not the way of thingswhich are concrete and particular.

Preserving this diversity of knowing and being blocks the absurdity thatreal dirt and stone are immaterial. But it does so without sacrificing the cor-respondence to reality that knowledge requires. For the diversity that has justbeen struck is all on the side of existence. How knowledge is is not how theknown is. In the case of the former, you have some form F that exists ab-stractly and universally. In the case of the latter, the form F exists concretelyand particularly. But it is all along the very same form F.10 So whereas thereis diversity on the side of existence there is identity on the side of essence. Inother words, between concept and object there is a formal identity despite theexistential diversity. And this identity is sufficient to account for the corre-spondence that must obtain between knowledge and reality.

NOMINALISM

The error of nominalism is just the reverse. If extreme realists pattern realityafter knowledge to the detriment of reality, nominalists model knowledge af-ter reality to the detriment of knowledge. Instead of confusing how somethingis with how it is known, nominalists confuse how something is known withhow it is. Classical nominalists concede that knowledge is a one-to-one cor-respondence of ideas to reality. But denying separated essences on the real-ity-side of that relation, they then reject abstract concepts on the idea-side ofthe relation. Nominalists do not start with abstract ideas as requirements ofknowledge and then deduce abstract real entities from those ideas. They firstdeny that reality is abstract and then deny the doctrine of abstract ideas. Forlike Platonic realists, they think that the latter implies the former. In theirview, the mistake of extreme realists is not that of moving from abstract ideas

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to abstract things. It is the mistake of positing abstract ideas in the first in-stance. It is the mistake of thinking that abstract ideas are behind nouns andadjectives. Once this assumption is surrendered, it is no longer necessary toposit real universals to satisfy the correspondence of ideas to reality in whichknowledge consists. Still, nominalists agree that knowledge does require thissame one-to-one correspondence of ideas to reality. It is just that the ideas thatthus correspond to reality are not universal concepts but sense impressions orsense images.

Aquinas would object that nominalism compensates by committing the op-posite error. It models knowledge after reality to the detriment of knowl-edge.11 To avoid Platonic universals, one need not go to the extreme of turn-ing the rational into the real. The culprit is not abstract ideas but somethingthat, ironically enough, is assumed by nominalists and extreme realists alike.

Before naming that assumption, let us see what happens when, in order tosidestep Platonic universals, nominalists replace abstract ideas with sense im-ages. True, like the reality some of them represent, sense images are concrete.That is their strength. For viewing knowledge as exact correspondence ofthought to reality, nominalists must make thought match reality. But armed withsense images only, one is at a loss to say what some real, concrete thing is. Tosay that Plato is human is to use the predicate word, ‘human.’ Suppose that in-stead of signifying a universal concept, ‘human’ signifies an image of a partic-ular human. Either it is the image of Plato or the image of someone else. If theformer, then to say that Plato is human is to say Plato is Plato; if the latter, thento say that Plato is human is to say that Plato is some other person. Apart fromthe dilemma of either tautology or contradiction, you fail in either case to saywhat Plato is, to make a predication by species. And it is not just predication byspecies that is eliminated but any predication at all. You cannot predicate P ofS unless ‘P’ is universal. It makes no difference whether ‘P’ is species, genus,difference, property, or accident with respect to S. Kant, who was no advocateof moderate realism, would applaud Aquinas on this point. Judgment, in hisview, either subsumes intuitions under universal concepts or lower concepts un-der higher concepts.12 And without judgment there is no knowledge.

Moreover, nominalists have trouble being consistent too. If the denial ofabstract ideas excludes judgment, then no nominalist consistently makesjudgments, including the judgments that nominalism is true and that he is anominalist. For ‘being true’ and ‘being a nominalist’ are predicable of theirrespective subjects and nothing particular is predicable. Besides, no nominal-ist consistently urges nominalism on others. For this implies that they canshare his idea. But persons cannot have the very same idea if nominalism istrue. In addition, if persons cannot have the same idea then they cannot holdcontradictory views either. If one person affirms and another denies that S is

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P, their ideas of S and P must be the same if the one judgment is to contradictthe other.

Things can be carried even further. If there are no universal ideas, thenthere are no judgments. But if there are no judgments there are no arguments.For arguments are composed of premises and conclusions all of which arejudgments. So not just judgments but arguments too feed off abstract ideas.Nominalism excludes argument in another way too. If no two persons havethe very same idea then two or more persons always go past each other in de-bate. Being about different things, their “arguments” are futile.

All this is what is to be expected once how things are known is confusedwith how they are. When you equate the way things are known with the waythey are you eliminate knowledge. The irony is that by trying so much tomake the rational conform to the real, you end up turning the rational into thereal. And then the rational is stripped of its very function, i.e. to know the real.The fact is that the real or extra-mental does not know anything. That is why,strangely, the error of nominalism parallels that of its opposite, i.e. Platonicrealistm. The latter is so intent on making the real conform to the rational thatit turnss the real into the rational. Acquiring abstractness, the real is then de-stroyed. Abstractions of reason are nothing real.

Aquinas would say that it is a case of exaggerating the correspondence inboth directions. And the result is a prodigy on both ends. In nominalism thereal swallows up the rational and in extreme or Platonic realism the rationalswallows up the real. But the same error is behind both. And that is the as-sumption that knowing is an exact one-to-one correspondence between the ra-tional and the real. When this correspondence is carried too far then the pos-sibility of any correspondence between the two is lost. For there needs to betwo orders, rational and real, between which the correspondence holds.

CONCEPTUALISM

Conceptualism saves the dualism that nominalism and Platonism collapse.That is its strength. Conceptualists avoid confusing the real with the rationalor vice versa. The mind has its own way of dealing with real individuals. Andthat is through abstract ideas. But neither is the real a copy of the rational. Onthis score conceptualists go further than Aquinas and Aristotle. Socrates re-sembles Plato in being human but this similarity is ultimate and irreducible.It needs no universal to ground it. Socrates and Plato are not similar by virtueof some common humanity that informs the matter of each one. They sharenothing in common despite their evident similarity. The logic of similarity re-quires no universal. All that is needed is a selected individual that is used asa model or paradigm. In this case let it be Adam. What it then means to say

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that Socrates and Plato are human is that they resemble Adam. So conceptu-alists join nominalists in denying that particulars incorporate a common form.

Yet so far from collapsing the real and the rational as do realists and nom-inalists, conceptualists forge an nonnegotiable gap between them. Withoutmaking St. Thomas an Hegelian before Hegel, the saint does see that what isneeded here is a unity-in-difference. True, the real is not the rational. But thatdoes not mean that they are the total foreigners that conceptualists construethem as being. As conceptualists would have it, you have on the one side pureuniversality and on the other pure particularity. Just look at Kant, the mostcelebrated conceptualist. Between mind and reality-in-itself the criticalphilosopher forges an unbridgable gap.

The trouble with such a gap between the real and the rational is that it pre-vents knowledge of the former by the latter. It excludes knowledge of the real.One cause of this skepticism is dismantling the tool of knowledge. That iswhat nominalists do when they pattern the rational exactly after the real. Thenthere is no knowledge of the real because there are no concepts by which thereal can be known. Another cause of the skepticism is to save the tools ofknowledge, abstract ideas but render them useless. That is what conceptualistsdo. They have the tools but the tools are in their hands quite useless. Saws cutnothing when nothing is cuttable. Similarly, concepts know nothing real whennothing real is knowable or intelligible. And of things which philosophers callreal, none lack intelligibility more than the pure particulars of nominalism andconceptualism. To be intelligible means to be knowable by mind. But sincemind knows only through abstract ideas, particulars are knowable by mind,and hence intelligible, only to the extent that they are not particular. For whilethe particular as such is sensible, it is not intelligible. But what is purely par-ticular is from no standpoint non-particular. It is something real without hav-ing a trace of the rational. It is a bare particular, harboring no form or essencewhatsoever. But then, Aquinas would say, it is unknown by mind. Conceptu-alism so divides the real from the rational as to prevent any tie between them.To be related, things cannot be totally different any more than they can be to-tally the same. If ideas are universal and reality purely particular then to knowthe latter by the former is to know it totally otherwise than it is. But to knowsomething totally otherwise than it is is not to know it. It follows that underconceptualism intellectual knowledge of the real is impossible.

Conceptualists are not blind to the gap they open between concepts and re-ality. Nor do they miss the implication of skepticism. To save knowledge andthe correspondence of idea and object in which knowledge consists, they re-verse the direction of that correspondence. This is Kant’s celebrated “Coper-nican revolution.” Under this move, instead of being the conformity of ideasto objects, knowledge is the conformity of objects to ideas. To be an object ofknowledge in the first place, something must be colored by our a priori ideas.

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The gap between idea and object is thus spanned. True, ideas are universalstructures of mind. But since, to be known, every object must bear the stampof these a priori ideal categories, it follows that ideas and objects necessarilycorrespond. By definition, then, objects of knowledge are rational just like theideas by which they are known. For it is these very ideas that are the form ofevery object. Just because they are, idea and object are not split. And as a re-sult of this a priori correspondence of the two, knowledge of objects is saved.

AQUINAS AND THE COPERNICAN REVOLUTION

This “Copernican revolution,” of course, post-dated Aquinas. But it is clearthat he would respond to it as follows. You cannot both alienate the real andthe rational and then try and save knowledge by taking the transcendentalturn. For the knowledge you save thereby is knowledge of appearance and notof reality. When knowledge is the conformity of object to concept instead ofconcept to object, the object of knowledge is partly made by mind. And thenwhat is known is not reality itself but reality as colored by mind. But it mightbe objected that knowledge that is not knowledge of reality is not knowledgeat all. This is because knowledge implies truth and the measure of truth is notappearance but reality. Things may appear to us one way. But unless that isalso the way they are, any claim to that effect is untrue. When conceptualistscut all ties between the real and the rational, therefore, they also cut the stringthat ties knowledge and truth to reality.

To escape this, conceptualists must deny either that knowledge impliestruth or that truth is the conformity of mind to reality. This is not an enviablechoice. Few challenge the dictum that ‘P is known implies P is true.’ So theonly course open to them is to take the transcendental turn with truth as wellas with knowledge. Truth is not the conformity of mind to object any morethan knowledge is. Instead, it is the conformity of object to mind. That at leastrenders their view consistent. For if you believe that knowledge implies truth,you cannot consistently say both that knowledge is the conformity of objectto mind and that truth is the conformity of mind to object. If you go by theidea that knowledge implies truth you must hold that knowledge and truth runin the same direction.

THE THEORY OF COHERENCE

Making truth and knowledge both a matter of conformity of object to mind isconsistent conceptualism. Yet it is counterintuitive. The reason is that what is

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meant by saying ‘There are lions’ is true is not that that statement conformsto the fact that there are lions. Instead, what is meant is that it conforms tomind or reason. This can only mean that the statement in question cohereswith the whole body of other accepted statements. Here, ‘coheres with’ is de-fined either in terms of consistency or in terms of mutual implication. In ei-ther case, it seems that ‘true’ is defined in terms of ‘true,’ making the defini-tion circular. To say that P is consistent with Q, R, S, etc. is to say that whenQ,R,S, etc. are true, it is possible that P is also true. And to say P implies andis implied by Q,R,S, etc. is to say it is impossible that P is true and Q,R,S, etc.false and that it is impossible that Q,R, S, etc. are true and P false.

Further, whether ‘coherence’ means consistency or implication, the groundof coherence is the law of non-contradiction. Aside, then, from the oddity ofsaying that it is not the fact that there are lions that makes the statement‘There are lions’ true, this coherence view of truth implies that the basis ofcoherence, the law of non-contradiction, is itself true because it coheres.13

Therefore, to the extent that conceptualists embrace the coherence view oftruth to make their own transcendental turn as regards knowledge consistent,they either ground coherence in coherence or else concede that the law ofnon-contradiction is true in some sense other than coherence. Otherwise, theyrender coherence groundless. It follows that unless they accept that conse-quence, conceptualists cut the string that ties both knowledge and truth to re-ality at the cost of either circularity or inconsistency.

But even aside from that dilemma, cutting the tie between knowledge andtruth on the one side and reality on the other is unacceptable. Otherwise, it is notthe case that some state of affairs in the world that both makes ‘There are lions’true and is necessary for knowing that there are lions. In sum, the conceptualists’total alienation of the real and the rational opens another gap, namely, a gap be-tween knowledge and truth on the one side and reality on the other.

Finally, as regards the stronger sense of ‘coherence,’ the gap betweenknowledge and reality breaks out in another way. If truth consists in the mu-tual implication of judgments, it follows that if a person knows somethingthen he or she knows everything. This follows from the doctrine of internalrelations to which defenders of the stronger coherentist view are committed.For under the latter, facts and truths form an unbroken web, an integrated sys-tem. There are no isolated, independent facts or truths. But Aquinas wouldpoint out that no person knows everything. But then it follows, if the strongercoherentist view is assumed, that no person knows anything. Thus, thestronger view of coherence implies absolute skepticism.

Coherentists might counter that the doctrine of internal relations impliesonly that if one thing is known then all things are known indistinctly. Then, itcannot be objected that under that doctrine no one knows anything on the

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grounds that no one knows everything. For the skepticism takes hold only if‘knows everything’ here means ‘knows everything distinctly.’ True, no oneknows all things distinctly but might it not be the case that we know or at leastare able to know all things indistinctly?

But this reply is ineffective. For we no more know all things indistinctly thanwe know all things distinctly. A person who has been blind since birth does notknow what color is indistinctly or inchoately. Such a person does not know atall what color is. Again, none of us can claim to know, even indistinctly, soundsthat are heard by animals that have a keener sense of hearing than we do. Wenot know those sounds at all. And so on with many other things. So if it is acondition of my knowing any arbitrarily selected thing x that I know all otherthings indistinctly, then it follows that I cannot know x. The defender of coher-ence hardly avoids the objection of skepticism by substituting indistinct knowl-edge of everything for distinct knowledge of everything.

THE REAL AND THE RATIONAL: AQUINAS’S SYNTHESIS

Aquinas sidesteps these troubles with coherentism by denying their source,namely, the hard and fast separation of the real and the rational. But this doesnot mean that we should fuse the real and the rational. Behind this reduction-ism is the false assumption, common to Platonic realists and nominalistsalike, that knowledge is an exact, one-to-one correspondence between the ra-tional and the real. The only difference is that Platonic realists model the realexactly after the rational while nominalists model the rational exactly afterthe real. But it is basically the same mistake. For in both cases there is noidentity-in-difference but rather a relation of mapping or copying. In Plato,intellectual concepts are abstract and universal and so are the Forms that areknown by those concepts. The two are a perfect match. Otherwise, says Plato,something is known otherwise than it is and hence not known. And in a nom-inalist like Hume the same thing holds. All simple ideas, says Hume, are “ex-act representations” of impressions.14 All knowledge is derived from impres-sions, and to determine the truth of any simple idea is to trace its origin to theimpression from which it has been derived. All empirical knowledge consists,for Hume, in the conformity of ideas to impressions. Here, because Hume isa phenomenalist, ideas are the rational and impressions the real. But the pointis that this conformity-relation is once again one of mapping or exact copy-ing and not one of identity-in-difference.

The solution is to get between the non-negotiable dualism of conceptual-ism and the reductionist ontologies of Platonic realism and nominalism. Andthat is what St. Thomas does. Under this synthesis, which is known as mod-

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erate realism, all three pitfalls are bypassed. First, the dualism of real and ra-tional is saved without having to take the transcendental turn to cover the con-formity of concept and object. That makes it unnecessary to turn knowledgeupside down and say that it is the conformity of object to concept instead ofthe other way around. Knowledge thus has reality and not appearance as itsobject. Since it is implied by knowledge, truth here runs the same way asknowledge. That means that the statement, ‘There are lions’ is true because itconforms to fact and not because it conforms to reason. Second, the unity ofrational and real in knowledge is retained without reducing the real to the ra-tional, without confusing how things are with how they are known. And thenone need not say that real dirt and stone are neither particular nor material.And third, the unity of the rational and the real in knowledge is once againsaved without reducing the rational to the real, without confusing how thingsare known with how they are. And then one need not witness the death ofmind, thereby excluding knowledge of the real by the rational.

RELEVANCE OF THE ESSENCE-EXISTENCE DISTINCTION

All this is accomplished on the shoulders of the distinction of essence and ex-istence. On the side of existence, how things are is the very opposite of howthey are known. That is why the extremes of nominalism and Platonism arefalse. For Hume ideas must be particular just like their real source, impres-sions. To be known, the real for Plato must be just like ideas, i.e. abstract anduniversal. It is as if, reducing knowing reality to reality, Hume reducesessence to existence. And it is as if, reducing reality to knowing reality, Platoreduces existence to essence. More circumspect on this score than eitherHume or Plato, Aquinas would have said, is the conceptualist Kant. Insistingwith Aquinas on the importance of keeping essence and existence distinct,Kant no more confuses the orders of being and knowing than does Aquinas.

But though concept and object stand existentially opposed, they are essen-tially one. Though I know lion universally even though it exists particularly,what I know universally and what exists particularly is the same “what” oressence. They are one in species or definition. That is why, despite the fact thathow something is known is always (existentially) otherwise than it is, it is par-adoxically still knowledge and not deception. For the word ‘otherwise’ here isadverbial and not accusative. It refers to the difference between the manner inwhich something is known and the manner in which it is. It does not refer to adifference between what is known and what is. Just because he tended to blurthe manner of existence and essence (the “how” and the “what”) Plato did notview the relation of concept and object as one of identity-in-difference. To

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save knowledge, then, he could not admit any sense in which how somethingis known is otherwise than it is. He had to insist on an exact correspondencebetween concept and object. Seeing, then, that universality is the condition ofknowledge (as opposed to opinion) he concluded that it is also a condition ofthe real. Otherwise, definienda fail to correspond to definitions and things areotherwise than they are known.

Moreover, this same relation of identity-in-difference that holds betweenconcept and object is missed by nominalists and conceptualists too. In thecase of nominalists, it is once again rooted in the failure to distinguish andpreserve both essence and existence. That is because, denying Platonic real-ism with a vengeance, nominalists throw out essence and universality alto-gether. If all is purely particular and nothing is common, then there is noth-ing common between concept and object. Hence, how something is knowncannot be otherwise than it is without being totally otherwise than it is. Tosave the conformity in which knowledge consists, therefore, nominalists joinPlatonists in denying that how something is known is otherwise than how itis. But since there is nothing common between the two, there must be an ex-act one-to-one correspondence, an isomorphism, between concept and object.But because they are nominalists and not Platonic realists, the correspon-dence must be one of particular to particular and not (as in Plato) of univer-sal to universal. Finally, with conceptualists too, no identity-in-difference ob-tains between the real and the rational. That is because, along withnominalists, conceptualists hold that all there really is is particular. Retaininguniversals in mind, conceptualists must then find some way to save knowl-edge. For concepts being universal and reality being purely particular, a gap-ing hole opens between the two. Nor can they fill the hole and save knowl-edge the way Aquinas does. That is because, believing that all there really isis purely particular, they recognize in real things no distinction betweenessence and existence.15 But then it is not open to conceptualists to counter-balance the existential diversity of concept and object with essential unity. Tobridge the gap and save knowledge, then, their only recourse is taking thetranscendental turn. By so doing, they restore the identity-in-difference be-tween concepts and objects. Under that move, objects are still different fromconcepts. But instead of being purely particular, they incorporate the univer-sal patterns of concepts. The gap is thus bridged and knowledge is made pos-sible. The trouble is, since the unity-in-difference that is thus achieved be-tween concept and object is all within appearance and not betweenappearance and reality, the “knowledge” that issues from it is knowledge ofappearance and not knowledge of reality. And what (among other things)spoils this Kantian twist is that we must think that ‘Two and two are four’ istrue not because two and two really are four but ‘Two and two are four’ is truebecause we are so constituted as to think it true. As Russell once observed,

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this transcendental twist on truth will scarcely guarantee the certainty of thatarithmetical truth, Kantian intentions to the contrary. For tomorrow, undergo-ing a mind-change, we might be so constituted as to think otherwise.16

Aquinas agrees with conceptualists that knowledge is achieved only by uni-versal concepts. He also agrees that reality is particular and not universal. Butfrom this he does not draw the conceptualist’s conclusion that reality is un-known. The gap between universal concepts and particular things is bridgedonce, among those real particulars (and not just within appearance) the dis-tinction between essence and existence is retained. For it can then be said thatthe gap between rational and real is all on the side of existence, i.e. all adver-bial. How things are known is otherwise than how they are. But in addition toexistence, says Aquinas, there is that whole other dimension of essence. Andin essence, concept and object are one. It is formally speaking one and thesame essence that has universal being in concepts and particular being in ob-jects. And this essential identity satisfies the conformity of concept and objectin which knowledge consists. And so a condition of there being knowledge ofreality is that the real and the rational, concept and object, are existentially di-verse but essentially one, a unity-in-difference. Without the real distinction ofessence and existence, therefore, knowledge of reality collapses.

To sum it up, then, Aquinas would charge that each one of these three com-peting views on universals issues out of its own misrepresentation of theessence-existence distinction. Contending that how something is is not otherthan how it is known, Plato reifies and hypostatizes essences, separating themfrom material particulars. With Plato and against conceptualists like Kant,Aquinas agrees that reality and not appearance is the object of knowledge. Heeven agrees that how something is is not other than how it is known. Even so,says he, it does not follow that the objects of knowledge are separatedessences. That follows only if, fusing essence and existence, you make howsomething is part of its essence, part of what it is. And that was Plato’s error.In the dictum, “how something is is not other than how it is known” the “notother” refers just to the identity of what is and what is known (i.e. just toessence), says Aquinas. That he thought that the “not other” also refers to theidentity of the way something is and the way it is known means that Plato con-strues the way as part of the what, existence as part of essence. To saveknowledge, then, Plato consistently concludes that there must really be sepa-rated essences corresponding to universal definitions. From thus reducing thereal to the rational, existence to essence, Plato would have been saved had heappreciated the ogre of saying that real dirt and stone are immaterial.

Agreeing with extreme or Platonic realists that how something is is not otherthan it is known, nominalists prefer to put it the other way around. How some-thing is known is not other than it is. For with them, the real is the measure ofthe rational and not vice versa. Therefore, instead of reifying and hypostasizing

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universal concepts, they eliminate them. If the real is particular and is the mea-sure of ideas, then the latter are particular too. Aquinas agrees that the real isparticular and that how something is known is not other than it is. But, says he,it does not follow that universal concepts are eliminated. That follows only if,reducing essence to existence, you identify a thing with how it differs fromother things. And then instead of hypostatizing essence, you hypostatize exis-tence. It follows only if, turning what a thing is into its own unique way of be-ing, you make it purely particular. These pure particulars are just as much falseabstractions as are Plato’s hypostasized essences. They are just what you getwhen, shunning making a prodigy of essence or universality, you make aprodigy of existence or particularity, usurping the rights of essence.

Finally, imbalance in the essence-existence distinction is also behind con-ceptualism. Like extreme realists and nominalists, conceptualists construeknowledge as the conformity of idea and object. But, say conceptualists, it iswrong either to model the real after the rational or the rational after the realas do extreme realists and nominalists, respectively. So knowledge must bethe conformity of idea and phenomenal object. Aquinas agrees that knowl-edge is the conformity of idea and object. He also agrees that the real is notto be patterned after the rational or vice versa. Things as known take on amode of being they do not otherwise have. But he would insist that it does notfollow that knowledge is knowledge of appearance and not of reality. Thatfollows only if it is once again assumed that the real is purely particular. Butwe just saw that that assumption feeds on identifying a thing with how it dif-fers from other things, thus creating the prodigy of a pure or bare particular.And this mistake is the very opposite mistake to Plato’s. You skew the real byidentifying it with its existential side just as Plato skews it by reducing it toits essential side. If the latter is the false hypostatization of essence to thedetriment of existence, the former is the false aggrandizement of existence atthe expense of essence.

CONCLUSION: DIVINE IDEAS ONCE AGAIN

Aquinas could have made the foregoing criticisms of Platonism, nominalism,and conceptualism just as an Aristotelian. But as the previous definition of‘Thomistic realism’ shows, Aquinas went beyond Aristotle on universals.Universals in the sense of essences exist not only post rem and in re but alsoante rem in the divine mind. And this doctrine of divine Ideas Aquinas tooknot from Aristotle but from St. Augustine. So it may next be asked whyAquinas went beyond the moderate realism of Aristotle and posited univer-sals ante rem.

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The answer goes back to his belief that all creatures have being (esse) par-ticipatively. A thing, x, has being participatively just when x is not identifiedwith its being. Instead, being in x is the act of some distinct potentiality,namely, x’s essence.17 For Aquinas says that every participator is related tothat in which it participates as the potential is related to the actual.18 And sincex’s being is distinct from its essence, x’s being is caused by another thing y.But unlike x, y, at least in the last analysis, is God or the self-existing being.For Aquinas holds, P1, that whatever is participatively is caused by someself-existing thing.19 And this self-existing thing has being non-participa-tively. Otherwise, it is caused by something and so is not self-existing. Athing, y, then, has being non-participatively just when y is identified with itsown being and does not have this distinct thing, essence, joined to it and towhich it is related as act to potentiality.

Now by the same token, for something x to have essence participativelymeans just that x is not identified with its essence but that essence in x has thisother thing, matter, joined to it. This matter shares or participates in that essenceor, put literally rather than figuratively, is related to that essence as potentialityto actuality. By contrast, something, x, has essence non-participatively justwhen x is identified with its essence. It is essence alone and does not have thisdistinct thing, matter, joined to it and related to it as potentiality to actuality.

It follows from this that if a thing x has essence participatively ( i.e. if it is acomposite of essence and the matter which shares in that essence) then theessence in question is accidental to the matter that participates in it. For sincematter considered as matter can take on or assume any form or essence what-soever, then no form or essence is essential or necessary to it. Instead, it is ac-cidental to it. But if one thing is accidental to another, then it is caused to be inthe latter by something else. Thus, since heat is accidental to water, then heat iscaused to be in water by something else, say, fire. This cause evidently cannotbe another thing y which, like x, participates in the same essence. For then y,like x, is a composite of that essence and the matter that participates in it. Butthen, the essence in question being once again accidental to the matter that par-ticipates in it, something else is again required to cause that matter to take onor assume that form or essence. As this cannot proceed to infinity, it follows thatsomething has the essence in question non-participatively and that this is thecause of whatever has that same essence participatively. Therefore, just as, byP1, something that has being participatively (per accidens) is reduced to some-thing that exists non-participatively (per se) so too, by what we might now callP2, whatever has essence participatively is caused by what has essence non-participatively. The logic cuts both ways.

But to conclude and to come to the point, what has essence non-participa-tively is identified with either a self-subsisting Platonic Form or a divine Idea.

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And that the latter is the case or that there are divine Ideas has already beenshown by invoking the scholastic distinction between object and condition,between id quod and id a quo.20

NOTES

1. To answer this question in what follows, I incorporate material taken from mypaper, “The Real and the Rational:Aquinas’s Synthesis” which appeared in Interna-tional Philosophical Quarterly Vol. XXXVII, No. 2 Issue No. 146 (June 1997).

2. Aquinas, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, translated by J. P.Rowan (Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1961), I.L.10:C 158, 65–6.

3. Aquinas, On Being and Essence, trans. A. Maurer (Toronto: Pontifical Instituteof Medieval Studies, 1949), 3, 41.

4. ———, On Being and Essence, 3, 40.5. ———, On Being and Essence, 3, 40.6. ———, On Being and Essence, 3, 40.7. Plato, Republic, in The Dialogues of Plato ed. B. Jowett (Oxford: The Claren-

don Press, 1953), vol.2 474B-480, 333–41.8. Plato, Parmenides, in B. Jowett, ed. The Dialogues of Plato vol.2 132 b-c, 675–6.9. Aquinas, Commentary ,I.L.10: C 158, 65; ———, Summa theologica, ed. A.

Pegis (New York: The Modern Library, 1948), I q84 a1, 377–8.10. ———, On Being and Essence, 3, 40–1.11. To the extent that nominalists deny universal abstract concepts Aquinas would

say they rule out intellectual knowledge of reality. For universality is a condition ofsuch knowledge. See Aquinas, On Being and Essence, 3, 40–1.

12. Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, trans. Norman Kemp Smith, (Lon-don: Macmillan, 1958) B93,105–6.

13. See Bertrand Russell, The Problems of Philosophy, (London: Oxford Univer-sity Press, 1970), 122–3.

14. David Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature, ed. L. A. Selby-Bigge, (Oxford:Oxford Univ. Press, 1967), 3.

15. Kant insists that existence is not to be included among the properties of a con-cept. (See Critique of Pure Reason, B625–628). But for Kant this distinction betweenproperty and existence holds in appearance and not in reality. Recall that existence isin his view an a priori category of the understanding.

16. Bertrand Russell, The Problems of Philosophy, 89.17. Aquinas, Summa contra gentiles, Book Two: Creation, trans. J.F. Anderson

(Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1956), 53 [4], 156.18. ———, Summa contra gentiles, 53 [4]; ———, Commentary, I.L.10: C 154, 64.19. ———, Summa theologica, I q44, a3: reply obj.2; ———, On Being and Essence,

4, 46–7.20. See chapter two, 66–71.

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A PROBLEM OF CONSISTENCY

Some construe Aquinas’s view of persons as a case of defending two in-compatible theses at once. A more sympathetic assessment is that it skirtsextreme, one-sided accounts of what persons are and achieves the balancedtruth. These impressions come out of Aquinas’s attempt to get betweenPlato and Aristotle on the issue of persons. With Plato St. Thomas holdsthat the human soul is immaterial and subsistent. But with Aristotle heholds that the soul is so closely related to the body as to be its very form.Can he have it both ways? Can he say that a person is composed of formand matter and yet not be identified with his or her body? Can he be, as heis, an Aristotelian on the matter of the soul’s relation to the body and yetdeny, as he does, that the soul depends on the body to exist? This seemingcontradiction is the outstanding problem in Aquinas’s philosophy of theperson.

A second and corresponding paradox greets Aquinas’s account of the will.Here again Aquinas is read either as both affirming and denying the freedomof the will or as striking a balance between freedom and determinism.Aquinas insists that human beings have free choice. Yet he affirms that thewill is moved by the intellect as regards its object and is moved by God as re-gards its end. Once again, can it be both ways? Aquinas’s position here is notunlike that of today’s soft determinists. They too are seen by some as eithertrying to have it both ways on the issue of freedom or as achieving a mediat-ing synthesis. In this chapter I consider these two paradoxes together with re-lated matters in Aquinas’s philosophy of the person.

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Persons

APPROACHING A SOLUTION

An answer to the first paradox comes from reviewing the theory of hylomor-phism and Aquinas’s account of the nature and operations of the human soul.As to the former, what is true of other bodies is true of human bodies. Andthat is that they are both generated and corrupted. As such, our bodies arecomposed of form and matter. Form and matter are thus logically prior to ourbodies just as they are to any other body. Further, we human beings fall un-der a genus and have a difference just like every other natural thing. A personis a rational animal where rational is difference and animal is genus. Butgenus signifies what is material in a thing while difference signifies what isformal. So persons are composed of matter and form as are all other naturalthings.

But though persons are living bodies, the form of a person is not a body.That is because no form is possibly a body. For any body is composed of formtogether with matter and no part is the whole. Besides, no body is in some-thing as in a subject. But form is in something as a subject. So, if the soul isdefined as the form of the body, it follows that no soul is a body.1 Further, itis not by being body that something is living, says Aquinas. Otherwise allbodies are alive. Instead, something is living by virtue of being such a body,just as something is human by being such an animal. But that a thing is sucha thing is due to its form. Thus, that Socrates is such an animal, i.e., a humananimal, is due to the form rational. It follows that something is a living bodyby virtue of some form.2 But this form by virtue of which some body is liv-ing is not an accidental form, like green is accidental to apple. Otherwise,since the two are only accidentally different, a living thing has the same def-inition as a non-living thing. Therefore, the form by virtue of which somebody is living is its essential or substantial form. It is, in other words, its firstact or form, and not a secondary or accidental form.3 By analogy, the natureof being apple is the first form of an apple while its being green and crisp aresecondary or accidental forms. In any case, this same first act or form byvirtue of which some body is living is what Aquinas means by ‘soul.’ By‘soul’ it is just meant the principle of life in what is living.

From this broad definition of ‘soul’ it follows that plants and brute animalshave souls too. But since difference is outside genus and is related to the lat-ter as form to matter, plants and animals are living as opposed to non-livingbodies by virtue of some form that is not itself a body. And all that is meant by‘soul’ here is that very form. This must be borne in mind in order not to readinto Aquinas the more narrow Cartesian sense of ‘soul.’ When ‘soul’ is theCartesian res cogitans, it is evident that neither plants nor animals have souls.

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FUNCTIONS OF THE SOUL AND THEIR RELATIONSHIPS

Aquinas follows Aristotle not just in his definition of ‘soul’ but also in thematter of the soul’s functions. The nutritive soul has the functions of nutri-tion, growth, and reproduction, the animal soul has the additional function ofsensation, and the human soul has all these functions plus the distinct func-tion of reason.4 But there are not three souls in a person but only one. Other-wise, since soul is defined as first and not secondary or accidental act, any oneperson is three things and not one.5 Further, if a person is living by one soul,sentient by another, and rational by a third, then “Man is an animal” and “An-imals are living things” are accidental predications. For things derived fromvarious forms are predicated of one another accidentally. For example, sweetis accidentally predicated of white.6 But the foregoing are evidently essentialand not accidental predications.

One might object that it does not follow that these predications are acci-dental when the three souls are diverse. For the souls are subordinated to eachother. Thus, the sense soul is subordinated to the intellectual soul and the nu-tritive soul is subordinated to the sensitive soul. But Aquinas counters that thesense soul is subordinated to the intellectual soul and the nutritive soul to thesensitive soul as the potential is subordinated to the actual. Therefore, if thisorder makes the foregoing predications essential and not accidental predica-tions, it makes them that sort of essential predication in which subject is re-lated to predicate as potentiality to actuality.7 This Aquinas calls the second-ary type of essential predication. Examples of this are “The surface is white”and “The number is even.” Here subject is to predicate as the potential is tothe actual. Here too, the subject is in each case included in the predicate andnot the other way around. (By contrast, in totally accidental predication nei-ther the subject nor the predicate are included in each other). But in “Man isan animal” and “Animals are living things,” it is just the other way around.Not only is subject related to predicate as the actual to the potential but alsothe predicate is included in the subject and not vice versa. And that is whatAquinas calls the first type of essential predication.

Therefore, one cannot object that, due to the order of their subordination toeach other, the diversity of the souls is compatible with the fact that the pred-ications in question are essential predications. For the type of essential pred-ication that follows from that subordination is secondary and not first essen-tial predication, whereas “Man is an animal” and “Animals are living things”are evidently first essential predications. In sum, if it is by one soul that a per-son is man, by another that she is animal, and by a third that she is a livingthing, then one of two falsehoods accrues. Either none of these things are

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predicated of each other except accidentally or else one is predicated of theother according to the secondary type of essential predication.

Further, if a person is living by one form, an animal by another form, andrational by a third form, then to avoid saying that a person is three things andnot one, one of these forms must be essential and the other two accidental.For whatever comes to a thing after or in addition to its substantial formcomes to it accidentally.8 Suppose, then, that it is said that the nutritive formor soul is the one that is essential since being alive is essentially predicated ofboth man and animal. In that case, it follows that a person is accidentally an-imal and rational. Just as unacceptably does it follow that neither animal norman signify a genus or species in the category of substance but instead denotesomething in one of the categories of accident.

THE PLATONIC VIEW REJECTED

To the Platonic view that a person is a soul using a body, Aquinas respondsthat this means one of three things. First, that the intellectual soul uses a body;second, that all three souls use a body; and third, that two of the three soulsuse a body. If either the second or third alternative is true, then a person is notone being but two or three beings, and that is evidently false. Further, if ei-ther the second or the third option is true, then something must unite theseseparate souls in order for them to form one person. But this “something”cannot be the body since it is the body that is united together by the soul. Thisis shown by the fact that the body disintegrates after death. So that whichunites the two or three souls must be still another formal principle or soul. Butsome further soul is then needed to unite this latter soul with the souls itunites, and so on, ad infinitum. Therefore, one must conclude that the secondand third alternatives above are false and that a person is neither two souls us-ing a body not three souls using a body.9

That leaves the first alternative. But even this view, which seems to havebeen Plato’s actual position on the question, is false. If one is identified withone’s immaterial, rational soul, then “Man is an animal” and “Man is corpo-real” are accidental and not essential predications. And this, says Aquinas, ispatently false.10 Besides, suppose that Socrates is simply identified with hisrational soul. Then it follows that Socrates understands by his whole self andnot by some part of himself. But this cannot be true since it is one and thesame person, Socrates, who both understands and senses and who is con-scious of doing both. But since one cannot sense without a body, the body isa part of what Socrates is. It follows that Socrates does not understand by hiswhole self but by something that belongs to Socrates, i.e. his intellect. But

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then the Platonic thesis that persons are simply identified with their rationalsouls is false.11

SUBORDINATION OF FUNCTIONS

For these as well as for other reasons, Aquinas concludes that a person is liv-ing, animal, and rational by one and the same soul or first act of the body.True, the human soul is distinctively rational. But that does not exclude its be-ing virtually both sentient and living. And that is in fact the case. Just by be-ing rational, the human soul automatically includes in it the powers of thesense and nutritive souls, just as a bishop automatically has the powers of apriest. In this same connection, Aquinas cites with approval Aristotle’s com-parison of the various souls to types of geometrical figures one of which con-tains others. To expand Aristotle’s comparison, just as a hexagon virtually in-cludes both a pentagon and a tetragon, so too the intellectual soul virtuallyincludes whatever powers that belong to the sensitive and nutritive souls. Andjust as a hexagonal surface is not hexagonal by one shape, pentagonal by an-other and tetragonal by a third, so too a person is not rational by one form,animal by another and living by a third.12

All this is straightforward Aristotelianism. Soul in any living thing is theform of matter. From this Aristotle concludes that no soul exists without mat-ter any more than can any other form can exist without matter. As a result, nosoul survives the death of the body and there is no personal immortality. ButSt. Thomas disagrees. He argues that the human soul, at least, can exist with-out matter and hence that persons can survive death. True, anything corporealis composed of matter and form and, vice versa, anything that is composed ofmatter and form is corporeal. But that does not imply that composites of mat-ter and form are nothing but corporeal. Nor can that identification be made inthe case of a human being. That is because the human form or soul has an actof existence that is independent of the body. The easiest way to show this,Aquinas thinks, is from the fact of intellectual knowledge. That fact impliesthat the soul’s activity, and hence its esse, is independent of matter.

IMMATERIALITY OF THE SOUL

One line of argument for this in Aquinas runs as follows. Intellectual knowl-edge by definition extends to various things outside the mind. For such knowl-edge is knowledge of some essence or universal F which is or can be found inmany particulars. Thus my concept of horse extends to many individuals. But

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if such knowledge were the reception of F in matter, then F would not extendto various things but would be restricted to some one particular thing. For mat-ter is the principle of individuation. But in that case intellectual knowledgewould not extend to many things and so would not be intellectual knowledgeafter all. Hence, in intellectual knowledge the form that is received in intellectis not received in matter. The receptive or passive intellect is therefore an im-material potentiality.13 Stated differently, properties as received in intellect arepredicable of many. In fact, the character of being predicable of many belongsto a property only as a result of its being received in intellect. But propertiesas existing in material things are not predicable of many. For matter is the prin-ciple of individuation and what is individual is impredicable. It follows thatproperties as received in intellect are not received in matter.

Alternatively, since anything is what it is by virtue of its form, then any-thing is known for what it is only through knowledge of its form. But supposethings are known for what they are. Then, it is the very forms or determinatenatures of such things that are known. But then, in coming to know things forwhat they are, it must be the identical forms of those things that a personcomes to know and not forms other than or even like those forms. But thatimplies that coming to know a form F is a change in which a person goes fromnot knowing F to knowing F. The informed person goes from not having F inher mind to having F in her mind. Yet, in being actualized by the form F, themind does not become an F-thing. By contrast, when matter is actualized bythe form feline, it becomes a cat and when matter is actualized by the formround it becomes round. But the intellect does not become a cat or round inknowing what a cat or roundness is nor does something know what a cat orroundness is in becoming feline or round. Since in each case some potential-ity for having a certain form is actualized by that form, what accounts for thedifference?

Aquinas answers that the potentiality that is actualized by form in knowl-edge is immaterial potentiality. Intellect does not physically become a cat incoming to know what a cat is because here form is not received in matter. Tocome to know forms, then, the passive intellect must be an immaterial or spir-itual potentiality. Otherwise the difference between coming to know the formF and physically becoming the form F goes unexplained. Thus,

Now, immutation is of two kinds, one natural, the other spiritual. Natural im-mutation takes place when the form of that which causes the immutation is re-ceived, according to its natural being, into the thing immuted, as heat is receivedinto the thing heated. But spiritual immutation takes place when the form ofwhat causes the immutation is received, according to a spiritual mode of being,into the thing immuted, as the form of color is received into the pupil which doesnot thereby become colored.14

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This difference between the two types of change is behind another argu-ment to show that the intellectual soul, though immaterial, is nonetheless sointimately tied to the body as to be its substantial form. Implicit in chaptertwo of On Being and Essence, the argument runs as follows. The nature of athing is shown by its proper operation. As a being is, so it acts. But theproper operation of a human being is to understand. Hence, the principle ofunderstanding, the intellect, either is or belongs to the nature of a human be-ing. But the intellect is no body. Otherwise no account is given of the dif-ference between coming to know F and physically becoming F, as was saidabove. Yet corporeity is essential to being human. Otherwise being an ani-mal is accidentally and not essentially predicated of persons. Hence, the in-tellect is not identified with a person but, along with animality, belongs tothe nature of a person. But as regards being human, animal is evidently thegenus and understanding the difference. Moreover, genus is derived frommatter and difference from form. For example, organism is open to, but notconfined to, being animal. Otherwise to be an organism is to be an animal.Organism is therefore genus since it is open or potential to some differenceor form that makes it animal. And that difference or form is sentience. There-fore, since in persons the genus is animal and the difference rational, theprinciple of understanding in persons, the rational soul, is related to the hu-man body as its form.

Another Thomist argument for the intellect’s immateriality turns on the in-tellect’s ability to know all bodies. Intellect is not restricted but can know anyand all bodies. The irony is that this universality in range or scope on the partof the intellect—the fact that it is can know any and all bodies—excludes theintellect’s being itself a body. For suppose that the intellect is a certain body.To make the case plausible, suppose that it is identified with the brain. Then,since nothing is actually what it is potentially, it follows that the brain is notsomething which the intellect can come to know. If the intellect is the brain,then, so long as it is intellect, it always actually has the form of the brain. Butif the intellect’s coming to know the brain is a case of its coming to receivethe form of the brain, then the contradiction ensues that the intellect is bothactually and potentially the brain at the same time. But it is a fact that not justthe brain but any other body can come to be known by the intellect. It followsthat the intellect is identified with no body whatsoever, not even the brain.

Further, if the intellect is the brain or any other part of the body, then it iscomposed of form and matter just as is any other material thing. Otherwisehylomorphism is false. But matter does not exist apart from this matter anymore than man exists apart from this man. So, if the intellect is the brain orany other bodily part, then it is composed of individual matter and form. Butthe intellect cannot be composed of individual matter and form. The reason

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for this is that the species of things understood, which are potentially intelli-gible as they exist in individual matter, are made actually intelligible only bybeing abstracted from individual matter.15 But for a species to be made actu-ally intelligible by this abstracting activity of the intellect is just what itmeans for a species to be known. But when species are known they becomeone with the intellect. Otherwise it is not the species or forms of real thingsthat the intellect knows but rather appearances only. Therefore, the intellectmust also be without individual matter.

Alternatively, the species of things are known only by being abstractedfrom individual matter, i.e. only by being actually intelligible. But since theactually intelligible and the intellect in act are one,16 the intellect too must bedevoid of individual matter. In short, either the intellect does not know thespecies of things or else it is not composed of individual matter. Otherwise ei-ther the intellect is not one with the object known or species are not made ac-tually intelligible by being abstracted from individual matter. But neither oneof these alternatives is true.

The same point can be made from the standpoint of the nature of the ob-jects of intellect. If the intellect is some body like the brain, then it is com-posed of matter and form. But then, matter being the principle of individua-tion, the forms of things received in intellect are received as individuals. Andthen, to the extent that such reception results in knowledge, intellectualknowledge is knowledge of individuals only. But the reverse is true. The in-tellect’s objects are universals and not individuals. Therefore, the intellect isnot composed of matter and form and so is no body.

Yet, since the intellect moves from potentially knowing forms to actuallyknowing them, it might be countered that, though it is not a body, the intel-lect is nothing but the material potentiality within a person’s body to knowforms, even though it is not itself a body. But this possibility must be rejected.Just because it is in potentiality to knowing many things, it does not followthat that potentiality is material potentiality or primal matter. Otherwise any-thing at all that is composed of primal matter is cognizant of the forms thatspecify it. And since all bodies are composed of primal matter and form, itfollows that all bodies, even sticks and stones, know the forms by which theyare characterized. Says Aquinas,

Then, too, prime matter is not cognizant of the forms which it receives. If, then,the receptivity of the possible intellect were the same as that of prime matter, thepossible intellect would not be cognizant of the forms received. And this is false.17

Still another argument for the soul’s immateriality is based on the activityof the intellect. The activity of understanding, says Aquinas, does not need abodily organ. In this, understanding differs from sense. As regards the latter,

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seeing takes place only through the eye, hearing only through the ear,smelling only through the nose, and so on. That means that the power of theseactivities also depends on the body. These sense activities, then, have as theirsubject the composite of body and soul and not soul alone.18 The reason forthis is that as an act is, so is its power, a dictum that reflects the general prin-ciple that actuality determines potentiality.

To spell it out, because sense operations take place only through an organ,then the power of the soul that is the principle of those operations is the act orform of the organ through which those operations are performed. Thus, sightis the act of the eye, sound the act of the ear, smell the act of the nose, and soon. By contrast, understanding does not take place through a bodily organ.Otherwise that organ would restrict and limit intellect to knowing just some in-telligible things, as the eye restricts and limits sense to knowing just some sen-sible things, i.e. colors. The fact that sight knows colors and not sounds, tastes,or smells is not due to the sensitive power. For that power is of itself open toall sensible things, i.e. to colors, sounds, tastes, smells, and so on. Rather is therestriction of sight to colors (as its proper object) due to the fact that the powerof sight is the act of the eye. And it is this matter, the eye, that restricts sight tocolors. The same goes for the other sense powers. Their objects are restrictedto certain sensible things because in their case too, the sense power in questionis the act of a bodily organ. Because hearing is the act of the ear, the objects ofhearing are limited to sounds. Because the power of smell is the act of thenose, the objects of that power are limited to odors, and so on.

But while the sense powers are limited to certain sensible objects, the powerof understanding is not limited to certain intelligible objects. By the under-standing, any and all intelligible things are known. Nor is understanding lim-ited to intelligible things only. Understanding knows not only any intelligibleobject but it also knows (though cannot sense) any proper sensible. Intellectnot only knows what a toad, a tree, a triangle, and the number three is, but italso knows what a sound, a taste, or a smell is. Therefore, since its objects arenot restricted and such restriction is due to a bodily organ, Aquinas concludesthat understanding does not take place through a bodily organ. It is not the actof a bodily organ.19 It is to that extent independent of the body. But if so, thengoing once again by the dictum that power follows act, it follows that thepower of understanding in the soul is independent of the body and thereforehas as its subject not the composite of body and soul but the soul alone.20


The obvious reply here is that the intellect exercises its function only throughthe brain, even if it is not identified with the brain. And then intellect is like

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sense after all. As sight needs the eye to see, so too does intellect need thebrain to understand. The brain is then the organ of thought as the eye is theorgan of sight or the ear is the organ of hearing. One could even push the anal-ogy further and say that as sight is the act of the eye so too is thought the actor function of the brain.

Aquinas would reply by distinguishing intrinsic and extrinsic dependence.When it concerns the latter, it is consistent with St. Thomas’s view to say thatthe intellect needs the brain to exercise its function. But the brain is not thecause or ground of the former, but a necessary extrinsic condition of the for-mer. If the intellect needs the brain to think as sight needs light to see, then itfollows that one cannot think without a brain any more than one can see with-out light. But because one cannot think without a brain it does not follow ei-ther that the brain enters into the definition of thought or that thought is thebrain’s function. By analogy, from the fact that one cannot see without lightit does not follow either that light is part of the definition of sight or that see-ing is the function of light. True, since he holds that all knowledge is derivedfrom sense experience and the latter requires matter, Aquinas believes thateven intellectual knowledge needs matter as an extrinsic condition. But fromthat it cannot be inferred that the intellect intrinsically depends on the brainfor its activity. The brain is not the matter of which the intellect is the form oract. It is not the organ whose function is thought as the eye is the organ whosefunction is sight or ear is the organ whose function is hearing.

Some might object that this extrinsic dependence of thought on brain ac-tivity does not go far enough. They would opt for a closer tie between them.Under this more intimate tie, thought is simply a function of the brain as sightis the function of the eye. But Aquinas would invite those who favor that viewto consider its consequences. If thought and brain are intrinsically linked inthis way, then, being matter, brain would restrict or limit the intellect to know-ing only some intelligible things just as the ear limits sensing to sounds. Be-sides, as matter, the brain would restrict or limit the intellect in another way.The reason why the object of sight is this or that color and not just color assuch is that matter is the principle of individuation. It is because sight is theact of matter (the eye) that the object of sight is this or that color and not justcolor. It is because hearing is the act of matter (the ear) that the object of hear-ing is this or that sound and not just sound. And so is it with all the other sensepowers. So, if the intellect too is the act or function of matter, i.e. the brain,then its objects would be particular and not universal.

But in fact it is just the opposite. What the intellect knows are universalsand not particulars. Even sensible universals like color as such or sound assuch are known by intellect and not by sense. To even the score, this color orthat sound is known by sense and not by intellect. As Kant was to emphasize

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centuries later, sense and understanding cannot exchange their functions orobjects. In any case, since matter is the cause of individuation and the objectsof the intellect are universals and not particulars, it follows that the intellectis not the act or form of the brain, or for that matter, the act or form of anyother bodily organ.21

INTELLECT: NEITHER SUBSTANCE NOR ACT OF THE BRAIN

That understanding as opposed to sensing is not intrinsically dependent on anorgan, even the brain, seems to imply that the intellect is a separate substance.But this Platonism as regards the intellectual soul Aquinas also denies. Justbecause it is not the act or form of an organ it does not follow that the intel-lect is an independent substance in its own right. Otherwise a person is notone substance but two. If Socrates’ intellect is one substance and his body an-other, then Socrates is not unqualifiedly one. Insisting that the soul is a sepa-rate substance, Plato answers this difficulty of unity by identifying Socrateswith his soul. Thus, Socrates is a soul using a body rather than being a com-posite of two substances, soul and body, just as Peter is not composed of manand clothes but is a man using clothes.22 But as was pointed out previously,this solution simply exchanges one error for another.23 If Socrates is identi-fied with his immaterial intellectual soul, then Socrates’ body is accidental toSocrates. And from that it follows that, since animal includes body, being ananimal is accidentally predicated of Socrates. But from this it follows that an-imal is not the genus of human. Since that is intolerable, it cannot be said thatSocrates is identified with his immaterial soul. Plato is caught in the dilemmaof either denying the unity of humans or denying that animal is the genus ofhuman. Even so, Plato correctly holds that the human soul is immaterial. Forits characteristic function, understanding, is only extrinsically and not also in-trinsically dependent on matter.

The intellectual soul, then, is both intrinsically independent of matter for itsactivity and also the form of the body. Prima facie these two assertions con-flict. But deny either one and you come to grief. If you say that the soul is aseparate, self-subsistent substance, then you ruin a person’s unity. If soul andbody in Socrates are two things, then Socrates is two things and not one. ButSocrates is evidently one substance. Besides, if Socrates is two substances ac-cidentally united, then what coordinates these substances? If it is said that athird substance does this, then a fourth substance is necessary to coordinate thethree, and so on, ad infinitum. Plato’s answer to this is that the soul is the con-trolling substance and that the body is the controlled or directed substance.And as regards the question of unity, Plato’s answer is that a person like

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Socrates is identified with his soul. But the effect of this move is to deny thatanimal is the genus of Socrates, since being a body is essential to animal. Soanyone who makes the soul a separated substance saves personal unity at thecost of denying that being human includes being an animal.

At the other extreme, if the intellectual power is a function of the brain orsome part of it, then the objects of the intellect are restricted in two ways.First, as regards their range or scope. Certain intelligible things are known byintellect and not others, just as the power of sight knows colors but notsounds. Second, those objects are restricted as regards their status. They arelimited to this or that thing, as sight senses this or that color. But the intellec-tual power of the soul is restricted in neither one of these ways. Intellect notonly can know any arbitrarily selected intelligible object but it is not re-stricted to knowing just instantiations of intelligible objects, to knowing onlythis or that object. For the intellect’s objects are universals. Therefore, the in-tellectual power is not a function of the brain or any part of the brain.

Nor is the intellectual power the very form of the brain or any part of it, aswas said. For in that case the forms received by the intellect in knowledge arereceived in matter. And then, since matter is the principle of individuation, in-tellectual knowledge does not extend to various things. But intellectual knowl-edge does extend to many things since the objects of that knowledge are uni-versals and universals by definition extend to or are predicable of many.

IMMATERIALITY ONCE AGAIN

This occasions another argument for the soul’s immateriality. It turns on link-ing three things, i.e. object, act, and source or subject. Things are understoodaccording to the intellect’s own mode, i.e. according as they are abstractedfrom or taken apart from matter. That is because the forms existing in matterare individual forms and the intellect does not know individuals as such. Sothe objects of intellect are universal, i.e. objects that are taken apart from mat-ter. But the status of its object is a sign of the status of the act or operationwhose object it is. Hence, intellectual activity is activity that is also indepen-dent of matter. But the act or operation of anything is in accordance with thebeing of the subject or principle of the operation. For mode of action followsmode of being. Therefore, the intellectual soul in a person is also apart frommatter or immaterial.24 Thus,

1. The status of an act is known by its objects.2. But the objects of understanding, universals, are immaterial.3. Hence, the acts of understanding are immaterial.

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4. But the mode of an act reflects the mode of being of its subject.5. Therefore, the human intellectual soul is immaterial.

One knows the status of a cognitive power from the status of its objects.But in the order of being (as opposed to that of knowing) the status of thepower determines the status of the object. Since there are three grades of pow-ers i.e. sense, intellectual, and intuitive, it follows that there are three gradesof objects. These are, respectively, individuals, material essences, and imma-terial essences. Thus, because the sense powers are the very forms of bodilyorgans (as for example, sight is the form or act of the eye) it follows that theobjects of sense are individual and concrete. Moreover, from knowing thatthese same objects are individual and concrete instead of being universal andabstract, we can infer that the corresponding powers are so many forms oracts of matter. By the same token, because the intellectual power is not theform of an organ, it follows that the objects of that power are not particularand concrete but rather universal and abstract. Furthermore, from knowingthat these same objects are universal and abstract we can infer that the corre-sponding intellectual power is not the form or act of an organ.

POWER OF THE SOUL VERSUS ITS ESSENCE

Yet one must distinguish the power of the soul from its essence. And whenone does, the paradox is this: that while the soul’s intellectual power is not theact or form of matter the soul’s essence is. For the soul is the form of the body.That explains why the intellect’s proper objects are material and not immate-rial essences. Though they are admittedly universal, the intellect’s proper ob-jects include common matter in their concepts. Thus flesh and bone (as op-posed to this flesh and these bones) enter into the idea of a horse. Suppose,then, that there is a cognitive power which is like our intellectual power inthat it is not the act of any organ but which is unlike our intellectual power inthat its essence is not the form or act of matter. Then, says Aquinas, the properobject of such a power would exclude both individual and common matter. Inshort, the proper objects of this intuitive power would be non-material or spir-itual essences. Such an intuitive cognitive power, Aquinas holds, is found inangels. Says Aquinas,

I answer that, as stated above, the object of knowledge is proportionate to the powerof knowledge. Now there are three grades of the cognitive powers. For one cogni-tive power, namely, the sense, is the act of a corporeal organ. And therefore the ob-ject of every sensitive power is a form as existing in corporeal matter; and as such

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matter is the principle of individuation, therefore every power of the sensitive partcan have knowledge only of particulars. There is another grade of cognitive powerwhich is neither the act of a corporeal organ, nor in any way connected with cor-poreal matter. Such is the angelic intellect, the object of whose cognitive power istherefore a form existing apart from matter; for though angels know materialthings, they do not know them save in something immaterial, namely, either inthemselves or in God. But the human intellect holds a middle place; for it is not theact of an organ, and yet it is a power of the soul, which is the form of the body, asis clear from what we have said above. And therefore it is proper to it to know aform existing individually in corporeal matter, but not existing in this individualmatter. But to know what is in individual matter, yet not as existing in such matter,is to abstract the form from individual matter which is represented by the phan-tasms. Therefore we must needs say that our intellect understands material thingsby abstracting from phantasms; and that through material things thus considered weacquire some knowledge of immaterial things, just as, on the contrary, angels knowmaterial things through the immaterial.25

Aquinas would therefore counter the seeming contradiction that the soul isboth independent of the body and the body’s form by distinguishing thepower of the soul from its essence or substance. The essence of the soul is notits power. Power is correlated to activity and power and act must be referredto the same genus or category. But activity is not in the genus of substance oressence but in the category of accident. But soul is in the genus of substanceor essence. Therefore, the essence of the soul is not its power.26 Further, assubstantial form of the body, the soul is first act of the body and not secondact or act that is ordained to further act. Therefore, for the soul to be in po-tentiality to another act (which it is when, for example, it senses or under-stands) does not belong to it according to its essence as a form but accordingto its power.27

In any case, given this distinction between essence and power, one can saythe following: that while it is by its power that the soul performs its charac-teristic activities, it is through its essence that the soul gives existence to thebody. If, then, the activity of the soul is carried out through a bodily organ,then the power of the soul that is the principle of that activity is the act ofsome bodily organ. However, if that activity is not effected by means of abodily organ, then the corresponding power of the soul is not the act of anyorgan. But since, for the reasons given, intellectual activity is not carried outthrough a bodily organ, then the intellectual power in humans is separate froma bodily organ. But this separateness from matter as regards its intellectualpower is consistent with the soul’s being, so far as its essence is concerned,the very form of the body.28 The two assertions are both entirely compatibleand indispensable to understanding the nature of a human being.

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Behind this distinction of essence and power is the wider distinction be-tween essence and existence. Activity is to power as act is to potentiality. Butactivity is secondary act, act that follows on what is act in a prior sense. Butact in the primal sense is existence and not essence. Therefore, because intel-lectual activities are separate from matter for the reasons given, it follows thatthe primal act from which those activities proceed, the soul’s existence, isalso separate from matter. For as always with Aquinas, activity follows beingwhere by ‘being’ it is meant existence as well as essence. This is best put ad-verbially and not adjectivally. Through its intellectual power, the soul acts im-materially. So the soul must be immaterially.

Even so, a whole other dimension of the soul is its essence. And when thesoul is viewed from this angle, it is seen as that through which being is givento a human body. For essence or substantial form in Aquinas is always that inand through which something exists. What the soul (i.e. its essence) is is theform of a human body. Thus, essence being what the definition signifies,body enters into the definition of the soul. But this is quite compatible withsaying that the soul’s act of existence is independent of the body or any bod-ily organ. Hence the importance of the essence-existence distinction for un-derstanding Aquinas’s philosophy of the person.

AQUINAS’S MODIFICATION OF ARISTOTLE

But right here a final objection emerges. And that is that under hylomorphism,form cannot exist without matter any more than matter can exist withoutform. Therefore, Aquinas must choose between denying that the soul is formof the body and denying that the soul can exist apart from the body. He can-not have it both ways and cling to the Aristotelian theory of hylomorphism.

Aquinas would concede that he cannot have it both ways and keep the Aris-totelian view of hylomorphism. But he would add that his own view of hylo-morphism differs from Aristotle’s on the notion of form. Though he affirmsthat matter exists only through form, he denies that form exists only in andthrough matter. If something loses being then it loses its form and, vice versa,if it loses its form then it loses being. Yet, in each case the matter remains. Thatshows that being is more closely tied to form than it is to matter. When a horseloses being it ipso facto loses the form of being a horse and when a horse losesthe form of being a horse it ipso facto loses being. It is no longer the act of ex-istence of a horse. But in each case the matter remains throughout as enduringsubstrate. That shows a tie between esse and form that is absent between esseand matter. It is just this: that though a thing’s being is not included in its form(otherwise, no being is contingent), it nonetheless belongs to it through its

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form and not through its matter.29 So form is directly tied to existence in a waythat matter is not. Since, then, matter has being only through form but form forits part does not have being only through matter, then while matter cannot bewithout form, form can be without matter. In short, if form is equivalent to(though not identical with) being and matter is not, then form is inequivalentto matter. That inequivalence means that either matter can be without form orform can be without matter. But since it is form that makes matter be and notvice versa,30 then matter evidently cannot be without form. Therefore, formcan be without matter. But if so, then one compatibly holds both that the hu-man soul is form of the body and that it can exist without the body. It dependson the body for the completion of its essence but is independent of the bodyfor its act of existence.

POWERS OF THE SOUL

The distinction between the soul’s essence and its power to which referencewas previously made leads to the subject of the various powers of the soul.Here, St. Thomas distinguishes five genera of powers in the soul. They are thevegetative, the sensitive, the appetitive, the locomotive, and the intellectual.In this division he follows Aristotle. These powers are divided by their ob-jects. That is because powers are divided by their acts and acts are divided bytheir objects.31 In any case, the higher a power is, says Aquinas, the more uni-versal is the object to which it extends.32 In this relation there is a triple or-der. The vegetative power is on the lowest level. That is because, acting onlyon the body itself to which soul is united, the vegetative power has as its ob-ject the body itself. This is shown in each one of the three powers into whichthe vegetative power subdivides, i.e. the augmentative, the nutritive, and thegenerative powers. The first of these is the power whereby the organism ac-quires its size or quantity. The operation of this power, growing, evidently hasthe body itself as its object. The same is true of the nutritive power. Whenfood is assimilated to form new tissue, this operation again has only the bodyitself as its object. So, since power follows act, the nutritive power has onlythe body as its object. Finally, by the activity of reproduction or generation,new matter, i.e. seeds or eggs, are produced in the organism. Since this oper-ation again directly has the body itself as its object (seeds and eggs being pro-duced in the generating body), the generative power directly has the body asits object. But Aquinas notes that since seeds or eggs may be transferred fromthe generating body to some extrinsic body (and so extends to an object be-yond its own body), it follows that the generative power approaches the levelof universality of the next highest power, the sensitive power.33 For the object

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of the operation of sensing, and hence of the power of sense, is not just thebody of the sensing agent but all extrinsic bodies. Sensing agents see, hear,touch, etc. not just their own bodies but, more universally, all or many sensi-ble bodies. Aquinas thinks that this is just one instance of the general rule ofhierarchy according to which the highest notch on any lower level of thechain of being approaches the lowest notch on the immediately higher level.

Above the vegetative powers is the sensitive power. The priority is due tothe fact, just stated, that the object of sensing is more universal than the ob-ject of vegetative activity. Sensing, and hence the power of sense, extends toextrinsic sensible objects. Unlike vegetative activity and power, its object isnot just the body of the composite whose subject it is. Even more universal inthis respect is the object of understanding and hence of the intellectual power.Understanding extends not only to all extrinsic sensible beings but to any andall extrinsic beings, whether they are sensible or not. Intellect has universalbeing as its object. Therefore, the intellectual power is the highest power ofthe soul.

The relative priority of a power in the soul is shown not only by the scopeof its object but also by the extent to which it is end or final cause of otherpowers. The priority here is logical and not temporal. Sense is the good orperfection of life and not vice versa. And understanding is the good or per-fection of sense and not the other way around. Therefore, the sense power ishigher than the nutritive power and the intellectual power is higher than thesense power.34 And in this sense of final cause, the higher power is the sourceof the lower power.

But in another sense of ‘source,’ the lower power is the source of thehigher. This is the case when ‘source’ means not final or efficient cause butmaterial cause. From this standpoint of material development, the nutritivepower is prior to the sense power and the sense power is prior to the intellec-tual power. But here, the priority is temporal and not logical. Temporallyspeaking, non-sensitive life came first. Out of this life came sentient life.Then, finally, out of sentient life, came intelligent life. Plants preceded ani-mals and animals preceded humans.35

As regards activities or operations of the soul, Aquinas says something else.And that is that whatever operates must in some way be united to its object.36

In the case of vegetative operations this is clear. The vegetative powers evi-dently all have acts that bear upon the body that is united to them. The objectof growing and assimilating food is the very body of the composite of bodyand soul which is the subject of those operations. But Aquinas thinks that thisprinciple holds for sensitive, intellectual, and appetitive operations as well.From this same principle it follows, he says, that the extrinsic object of theselatter operations must be related to the soul in either one of two unifying ways.

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First, the extrinsic object has a natural aptitude to be united to the soul. Thus,both a sensible object such as a color or sound and an intelligible object suchas the form or essence of a thing, can be by its likeness in the soul. And ac-cording to this kind of unity of soul as operating and object two powers aredistinguished, i.e. the sensitive and intellectual powers. Second, the soul itself(as opposed to its object) has a natural tendency or inclination towards the ob-ject. And according to this way of unity, there are again two powers, namely,appetitive and locomotive. As regards the first, the soul is referred to its ex-trinsic object as an end. For just by being first in the order of intention an endis in the soul as something sought. As for the second, the soul is here referredto an extrinsic object as the term of movement in the sense of natural desire.Thus, to the extent that animals are moved by natural desire to travel to thesource of food and water, they are through this inclination of their souls unitedto the objects of their desire.37

IMMANENT AND TRANSIENT ACTIVITY

But whether it is growing, assimilating food, reproducing, sensing, under-standing, or willing, these activities of the various powers in the soul are clas-sified by Aquinas as being immanent and not transient activity. To bring outthe difference, consider first transient activity. As the name implies, transientactivity carries over to something over and above the activity itself. This isthe end or goal of the activity. But for Aquinas, the end of any activity is thegood of both that activity and of the agent engaged in it. For the end of any-thing is its good. And since the good of anything is its perfection, it followsthat in transient activity the end of the activity is the perfection of both the ac-tivity in question and the agent engaged in it. Typically, transient activity be-gins in agents but ends in the production of some thing or state of a thing insomething else. Thus, building begins in the carpenter and ends in a house.From what has just been said, the house in this example is the end, good, orperfection both of the activity of building and of the carpenter qua building.Atypically, transient activity begins in an agent and ends in the same agent.Suppose a physician treats his own wound. Here, action begins in the agentand ends in the production of a change in a bodily part of the agent himself.Yet even here there is transitivity. The action is means to an end that is dis-tinct from the action itself. The physician’s act begins in his psyche and endsin quite a different part of himself. In any case, since it is always good forsomething else beyond itself, transient action derives value from the end itserves, as surgery derives its value from the health it produces.

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Further, transient action is always accidental and never essential to theagent whose action it is. Thus building is not essential but accidental to per-sons because it is not as persons that they build. This implies that in transientaction agents act in some specialized and incidental capacity. Thus, in build-ing, persons act as builders and not as persons. This is the case in all crafts.That is why in building as in other crafts means and end-result, cause and ef-fect, exclude each other. The means or cause in building, the transient activ-ity of builders, neither is nor is included in the end or effect, the house. Andthat is true in all transient activity. It can be said, then, that something is atransient action of an agent if and only if it is the action of an agent in somespecialized or incidental capacity and is neither identical with nor part of theeffect it produces. From this it follows that if a person acts just as a personand not as in some incidental capacity, then his or her action is neither tran-sient action nor is it the means or cause of some end or effect that is aboveand beyond itself. Such is the case with immanent activity.

Immanent activity is always the activity of a thing just as that kind of thing.It is not the activity of a thing as in some incidental capacity. For as the nameimplies, immanent activity does not pass over to some end or effect that is be-yond and distinct from the activity itself. Instead, the activity is itself end oreffect. Growing and the assimilation of food are examples of immanent activ-ity. They are activities that belong to an organism just as organism. They donot pass over into some external thing or state as end or effect but rather bothbegin and end in the organism itself. Moreover, since it is itself end and the ac-tivity of an organism as organism, growing or assimilating food is the good ofthe organism as organism. So immanent activity not only begins and ends inan agent but it also perfects the agent. This runs parallel to what is the case intransient activity. The end of a person as builder, building, is the good of a per-son as builder (but not as person) and hence perfects the person as builder(though again, not as person). Correspondingly, growing or maturing, which isthe good of an organism as organism, perfects the organism. Or take the sen-tient activities of animals. Since these belong to animals as animals, they areimmanent activities and hence constitute the end and good of animals as ani-mals. Thus, seeing and hearing begin and end in the animal and also perfectthe animal. The important difference is that in immanent activity, it is the ac-tivity itself that is end, good, and perfection of the subject rather than being, asit is in transient activity, simply a means to some further extrinsic end or good.

In sum, the following both imply and are implied by each other: a) being animmanent activity, b) being the end, good, and perfection of the agent just asagent, c) being the kind of activity of a thing just as that kind of thing, d) beingan activity that is not simply a means to some end beyond itself and e) being an

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activity that does not find its perfection in something else to which it is directedas end but is itself the perfection of the agent qua kind of thing it is. By the sametoken, the following also both imply and are implied by each other and so areequivalent notions: a’) being a transient activity, b’) being the end, good, andperfection of the agent qua acting in some specialized capacity, c’) being the ac-tivity of a thing in some incidental capacity, d’) being an activity that is alwaysa means to some extrinsic end, and e’) being an activity that finds its perfectionin something else to which it is directed as end and not an activity that perfectsthe agent qua kind of thing it is.

ACTIVE VERSUS PASSIVE INTELLECTUAL POWER

To recur to the intellectual power, included under this heading are both pas-sive and active intellectual powers. About the passive intellect enough hasbeen said. But one element in the previous account of the receptive or pas-sive intellect introduces the active intellect. And that is the function of ab-stracting from individual matter. Aquinas goes by the general dictum thatwhatever receives anything receives it according to its own manner.38 But asopposed to prime matter, the intellect receives form immaterially and uni-versally. Otherwise, for intellect to know a certain form F that exists in mat-ter is for it physically to become another instance of that form. From this itfollows not only that the passivity of the receptive intellect is immaterial butalso that, to make it conform to the universal way in which the passive in-tellect receives form, some intellectual power strips the form of its individ-uality. And since individuality is due to matter, it has a power the function ofwhich is to de-materialize things.39

That power is what Aquinas calls the active intellect. It is the active as op-posed to the passive side of the understanding. And its sole function is ab-straction. Now in abstraction, something is taken into consideration andsomething is left out. In one type of abstraction, what may be called imagi-native abstraction, one part of a concrete whole is considered apart from theother parts. Thus, I imagine the head of a horse without its body. This, though,is not the kind of abstraction that Aquinas attributes to the active intellect. Forthough what is left out of consideration in this abstraction is individual, whatis taken into consideration is also individual. The head of the horse is thishead of this horse. But what is taken into consideration by the abstraction ofthe active intellect is universal. Thus, by the active intellect horseness itself isabstracted from individual horses. Here, what in sense images or phantasmsis abstracted from is the individuality of particular horses and what remainsis universal and not individual. Aquinas agrees with Aristotle’s comparison of

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the active or agent intellect to light.40 The active intellect is required for un-derstanding as light is required for seeing. What in phantasms the active in-tellect illumines or makes knowable to the passive intellect are the forms ornatures of individual things in the world. This it does by focusing on thoseforms or natures in abstraction from the individual conditions in which theyare found, just as one focuses a flashlight on the keyhole of a door in ab-straction from other parts of the door. This evidently presupposes that theforms or essences of things must first be in the phantasms of sense. Nothingcan be abstracted from sense perception unless it is in the first place given insense perception. And to answer the objection that this implies that the uni-versal forms or natures of things are known by sense Aquinas would add thatnot everything that is given in sense perception is recognized by sense per-ception. The senses do not know the contents of all the baggage they receive.

TYPES OF ABSTRACTION

Moreover, corresponding to different types of real relations in things are dif-ferent types of abstraction. To the real relation of an accidental, quantitativeform to matter corresponds the abstraction of such a form from its matter.Thus, ovalness is abstracted from a stone. This Aquinas calls abstractio for-mae a materia sensibili.41 To the real relation of essential form taken as a log-ical whole to its parts corresponds the abstraction of that whole from its parts.Thus we have either the abstraction of species from indivduals (i.e. humanfrom Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, etc.) or the abstraction of genus from species(i.e.animal form horse, lion, bear, etc.). This Aquinas calls abstractio totius.42

The two types of abstraction have been called, respectively, formal and to-tal abstraction. Despite the foregoing examples, the difference between themis not that the former is the abstraction of an accidental, mathematical formfrom individual matter while the latter is the abstraction of an essential, non-mathematical form from individual matter. The difference instead turns onwhether what is abstracted is cut off by the mind from matter or not. A formmay be abstracted from a material individual in such a way that it is impred-icable of that individual. Thus, ovalness is impredicable of a stone and hu-manity is impredicable of Socrates. Here, ovalness and humanity are ab-stracted from things in precision from matter. We cannot say either that thisstone is ovalness or that Socrates is humanity. Otherwise we should say thata whole is one of its parts. But by contrast, a form might be abstracted froma material individual in such a way that it is predicable of that individual.Thus, oval is predicated of a stone and human is predicated of Socrates. Wecan say that the stone is oval or that Socrates is human. In any case, when they

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talk of formal abstraction, Thomists refer to the former and when they speakof total abstraction, they refer to the latter.

Use of the analogy of light in connection with the active intellect inevitablyrecalls St. Augustine’s doctrine of divine illumination. But the influence onAquinas here is not St. Augustine but Aristotle. For one thing, the illumina-tion Augustine refers to is due directly to God and not to a power in each oneof us. For another, the function of divine illumination in Augustine is not toabstract forms or essences from their individual conditions but to reveal to usthe character of necessity in a priori truths. Nevertheless, Aquinas does notdoubt that the power of the active intellect in each person to illumine phan-tasms in us is derived from a higher intellect which he identifies with God.43

In this connection, he quotes Psalm 4,6: “The light of your countenance, OLord, is stamped upon us.” And so, to the extent that he holds that we knownothing without the power of our active intellect and that the latter is derivedfrom God, Aquinas is one with Augustine in believing that our knowledge de-pends on God. But the kind of knowledge for which we need God’s help isdifferent for each philosopher. While in Augustine we depend on God’s lightto see the necessity in a priori truths, in Aquinas we ultimately depend onGod’s light even for our empirical knowledge of things, i.e. for our abstract-ing the forms of things from sense images or phantasms.

In any case, the reason why our intellectual power is derived from thehigher intellect of God is that the human soul is intellectual only by partici-pation. This is shown by the fact that the human soul is not wholly intellec-tual but only partly so. For unlike separate substances, it has this other thing,matter (the body), joined to it. But whatever is not some form F by itself buthas another thing joined to it is F by participation and not F pure and simple.For example, since any contingent being is not just being but has this otherthing, essence, joined to it, then any contingent being has being participa-tively. And that means that its being is derived from something that has beingnon-participatively. It follows that the human soul is intellectual by virtue ofsome higher intellect that is intellectual per se or by its whole nature ratherthan by part of its nature.

INTELLECT AS LIMITED

Moreover, that our intellect is limited and imperfect is shown by the fact thatit passes in knowledge from potentiality to act. It does not know everythingit knows all at once or intuitively. Instead, most of its knowledge is non-intu-itive and discursive, either by way of composing and dividing (judging) or byway of reasoning. Since in both judging and reasoning our intellect moves

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from potentially knowing to actually knowing, it is susceptible of being per-fected in its knowledge. But only what is imperfect can be perfected. Thus,

. . . For since the intellect passes from potentiality to act, it has a likeness to gen-erable things, which do not attain to perfection all at once but acquire it by de-grees. In the same way, the human intellect does not acquire perfect knowledgeof a thing by the first apprehension; but it first apprehends something of thething, such as its quiddity, which is the first and proper object of the intellect;and then it understands the properties, accidents, and various dispositions af-fecting the essence. Thus it necessarily relates one thing with another by com-position or division; and from one composition and division it necessarily pro-ceeds to another, and this is reasoning.44

Further, from the fact that our intellect moves from potentiality to act inthis way it follows not only that it is imperfect but also that it is derived froma higher intellect. For since it passes from potentiality to act in knowing, ourintellect must rely on some efficient cause outside of itself to do so. It doesnot move itself to understand but must be helped to understand by a higherintellect.45

Finally, what intellect first conceives, says Aquinas, is being. That it doesby its first operation which is apprehension. But no fact or principle is un-derstood by the second operation of intellect, i.e. composing and dividing(judging), says Aquinas, unless the principle of non-contradiction is under-stood, i.e. that a thing or being cannot both be and not be at the same time inthe same way. But further, no conclusion is understood by reasoning unlesssomething is understood by judgment. For all reasoning to conclusions isfrom judgments. Furthermore, the law of non-contradiction is understoodonly if the concept of being is understood since the former includes the latter.From all this it follows that nothing is understood by either apprehension,judgment, or reasoning unless being is understood. From this it also followsthat since reasoning depends on judging and judging depends on simple ap-prehension then all our intellectual operations depend on simple apprehensionand more particularly on the simple apprehension of being.46

TRUE AND GOOD COMPARED

Persons both know and want things. They do the former by the power of in-tellect and the latter by the power of will. Moreover, since one only wantswhat one knows, knowing things is a condition of wanting them. Since willaims at the understood good, the intellect moves the will as an end.47 In thatsense does the intellect logically precede the will. Moreover, since knowing

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something precedes wanting it and truth relates to knowing while good relatesto wanting, the object of the intellect, true, is by nature prior to the object ofthe will, good.48 Included in and hence prior to both true and good is the ideaof being.

Truth adds to being the idea of good or perfectiveness in relation to intel-lect.49 This relation can run either way. Truth is being either as perfective of,or as perfected by, intellect. The first is being in intellect as the end of intel-lect. This is judgmental truth in which being specifies or informs the (passive)intellect as the actual informs or fulfills the potential. And as the actual per-fects or is the end and good of the potential, being as it is in intellect, i.e. truth,perfects or is the act, end, and good of the intellect. Thus, I truly judge that Sis P because what I judge or what specifies or actualizes my intellect in sojudging is the very likeness of being or fact. In this way can it be said that be-ing is perfective of intellect in judgmental truth. The second is once again be-ing in intellect. But it is being in intellect not as the end of intellect but as theend of being. This is ontological truth in which the very likeness of some Ideaor model in intellect is in being or reality as the actual is in the potential. Andonce again, as the actual perfects and is the end and good of the potential, thisIdea or model in intellect, i.e. truth, perfects or is the end and good of being.Thus, an artisan’s product is called true because the form that actualizes it isthe very likeness of the artisan’s ideal model. And natural things are calledtrue because their forms are the very likenesses of the Ideas of them in God’sintellect. In this way can it be said that intellect is perfective of being in on-tological truth. But in either case, truth is a relation of conformity of intellectand being. And that relation is either one of being’s conforming to intellect orof intellect’s conforming to being.50 Under this view of truth, therefore, truthis in intellect and not in things, except in relation to intellect.51

On the other hand, good adds to being the idea of perfectiveness or end ab-solutely speaking. It does not add the idea of an end to being in relation to in-tellect or any other particular thing. Good adds to being the idea of being anend to any potentiality whatsoever, i.e. the idea of being an end period.52 Inthis way is good the genus of true, the latter being a type or species of good,i.e. the good of the intellect.53 Moreover, since what perfects potentiality isact and act is the end of potentiality, good adds to being the idea of being anend with respect to that of which it is the end. Further, something is not calledgood because it is perfected but because it perfects. Good is what perfects orfulfills any potentiality, cognitive or real. But since what perfects potentialityis actuality and the actual is the end of the potential, then good has the natureof act and end. Thus, form is the good of matter, and existence, the act of allacts, is the good of essence. So good is being as desirable, as the term, goal,or end of some activity, tendency, or appetite. It is actual fulfillment with re-

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spect to what has potentiality for, or is bent toward, that fulfillment. Whatgood is is seen by contrasting it with its opposite, evil. As evil consists in athing’s being defective in some way, i.e. in its lacking a form it ought to have,so good consists in a thing’s having the form it ought to have.

Good and true, as well as their respective powers, will and intellect, mutu-ally include each other as genus includes species. “The intellect understandsthe will and the will wills the intellect to understand.”54 As to their objects, tothe extent that truth is a kind of good, i.e. that toward which intellect tends,good is universal and truth particular. In this way is good prior to truth asgenus is prior to species. One can say that truth and falsehood are the goodand evil, respectively, of intellect.55 Like any other thing, intellect is goodwhen it has the form it ought to have and evil when it lacks that form.56 Butas a knowing power, the form it ought to have is the form of another.57 So in-tellect is good when it is true, i.e. when it has in it the likeness of the real orfactual, and intellect is evil when it is false, i.e. when it lacks or falls short ofthat likeness. On the other hand, to the extent that good is a kind of being andhence intelligible or true, true or being is universal and good particular. Since,as knowable, good is one among a myriad of things that is a possible objectof intellect, it follows that good is a species of the true. In this way is truthprior to good, once again as genus is logically prior to species.58

Yet as was mentioned, behind both true and good is the idea of being,which is the absolutely first thing the intellect conceives. No concept in thefirst act of the intellect, simple apprehension, is understood unless being isunderstood. Behind the concepts of tree, animal, stone, atom, etc. is the ideaof being. Moreover, nothing is understood in the second act of the mind, i.e.judgment, unless the law of non-contradiction is understood in judgment. Be-hind my understanding “Humans are animals,” “Stones are composed ofatoms,” “These trees are oaks,” etc. is “Nothing can simultaneously both beF and not be F” or “No judgment is both true and false.” Further, accordingto Aquinas, nothing is understood by the third act of the mind, reason, unlesssomething is understood by judgment. For knowledge of the conclusions ofreason depend on knowledge of the premises, and this is knowledge by judg-ment. But now, the law of non-contradiction in judgment is understood onlyif the idea of being is understood in simple apprehension. Therefore, nothingat all is understood by simple apprehension, judgment, or reason unless beingis understood by simple apprehension.59

In any case, besides these powers of the intellect, i.e., apprehending, judg-ing, and reasoning, there are two powers of the will, i.e. willing ends andchoosing means. But the functioning of a power is related to that power as actto potentiality, and act always perfects potentiality.60 As a power, then, intel-lect is perfected when it actually apprehends, actually judges, and actually

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reasons, and will is perfected when it actually wills and chooses. All these op-erations are done either well or not well. One apprehends the essence or na-ture of a thing either adequately or inadequately. One judges either truly orfalsely, and one reasons either validly or invalidly. Just so, one chooses eithervirtuously or viciously.

Moreover, in knowing we move by reason from what is directly and moreeasily known to what is indirectly and less easily known, and this is to movefrom what is only potentially known in premises to what is actually known inconclusions. But since the actual perfects the potential, this movement of rea-son from what is more directly known in premises to what is less directlyknown in conclusions perfects reason and hence the intellect itself. Thus,since the good or perfection of a thing is its end, it follows that the end of theintellect is truth and in particular the reasoned truth of conclusions.

Further, the functioning of a rational power is perfected according to theperfection of its object.61 Hence, the power of will is perfected to the extentthat what is wanted or attained is end or what is desirable in itself as opposedto what is desired for another. The latter is a mix of the desirable and the non-desirable since it is desired only as means and not as end.62 But since a thingis good to the extent that it is desirable for itself, the power of will is perfectedto the extent that what is wanted or attained is the good itself as opposed tomeans which is a mix of good and non-good. Similarly, the power of intellectis perfected to the extent that what is known is the intelligible itself as op-posed to a mix of the intelligible and the non-intelligible. And since a thing isintelligible, as it is appetible, to the extent that it is form or act, the power ofintellect is perfected to the extent that what is known is act or form itself asopposed to a mix of form and matter or of the actual and the potential.

And yet the difference between knowing and wanting and hence betweenintellect and will is this: whereas knowledge is according as the thing knownis in the knower, desire is according as the desirer tends toward the thing de-sired as to something outside. Thus Aquinas notes that Aristotle places a kindof circle in the acts of the soul. The thing outside moves the intellect, the thingas apprehended in intellect instigates desire, and the desire then tends to theattainment of the thing outside whence the movement first began.63 So whiletruth is in the intellect goodness is not in the intellect but in things. Thus theaspect of good passes from the thing desired to the desire, whereas the aspectof the true passes from knowing to the thing known. Desires are called goodbecause the things desired are good, whereas things are called true becausethe intellect which knows them is true. It is mind that is true and reality iscalled true only in relation to mind. By contrast, it is the real that is good andmind or desire is called good only by reference to the real. Says Aquinas,

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. . . Now as good exists in a thing so far as that thing is related to the appetite—and hence the aspect of goodness passes on from the desirable thing to the ap-petite, in so far as the appetite is called good if its object is good; so, since thetrue is in the intellect in so far as the intellect is conformed to the thing under-stood, the aspect of the true must needs pass from the intellect to the thing un-derstood , so that the thing understood is said to be true in so far as it has somerelation to the intellect.64

TRUTH AND JUDGMENT

If Aristotle and Aquinas are right that truth is in mind while good is in things,then the bearer of ‘true’ is strictly speaking mental being while the bearer of‘good’ is real being. But it is not any mental being at all, according toAquinas, that is true, even when they give us knowledge. For example, nei-ther sense images nor the concepts we have in simple apprehension are true,even though those images and concepts do, when they conform to their ob-jects, provide knowledge of those objects. We can say that sense images thatconform to their objects are in a sense true and that concepts that conform totheir objects are likewise in a sense true. But strictly speaking, they are nottrue, says Aquinas.65 The reason for this is that it is not by either one of themthat we make a claim about how things are in fact or in reality. I might see agreen patch on a wall, but so long as I confine myself to my experience ofseeing green and do not refer the green I see to the real wall, I make no claimabout how the external world is. And just for that reason the question of truthor falsity fails to arise. Likewise in the case of concepts. I might have the ab-stract concept of a condor, but so long as I confine myself to the concept it-self I once again make no claim about the external world. But once I use theconcept of condor as the predicate and judge that the bird I see is a condor,then for the first time I make a claim about how things are. And just becauseof that does the question of truth or falsity in the strict sense come into play.And it comes into play not with respect to the concept condor but with respectto the whole judgment in which that concept figures. To scholastic philoso-phers, that showed a link between judgments and existence. Whereas con-cepts bear upon essence only, judgments purport to signify existence.

Nevertheless, persons evidently judge that S is P without knowing that Sis P. But if truth is in intellect and not in things, how is that possible? Thefunction of intellect being to know, how can truth be in intellect without in-tellect’s knowing truth? To answer, this seeming contradiction comes fromequating intellect’s function with knowing. But persons believe things as

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well as knowing them and belief involves intellect too since believing that Sis P implies judging that S is P and judging is combining or separating ideasin intellect. So given that intellect believes as well as knows, no one is forcedto choose between affirming that judging implies knowing and denying thattruth is in intellect.

Still, if truth does not imply knowledge and yet is in intellect, how can onesay, as does Aquinas, that truth is the end of the intellect? For Aquinas holdsthat the end of a thing is its good or perfection and that intellect is perfectedby knowledge. How, then, does he compatibly say that truth perfects intellectwhen intellect truly believes but does not know that S is P? Holding that truthis in intellect and that truth does not imply knowledge, Aquinas would thenseem to be on the horns of a dilemma. Either (A) he affirms that knowledgeperfects intellect and denies that truth is the end of intellect or else (B) he af-firms that truth is the end of intellect and denies that knowledge perfects theintellect. And yet it seems that St. Thomas shuns both (A) and (B).

Stated baldly in this way, these two propositions, i.e. “Truth is the end (andhence the perfection) of intellect” and “Knowledge perfects the intellect” areincompatible for any philosopher to hold who also both affirms that truth is inthe intellect and denies that truth implies knowledge. Yet a closer look at whatAquinas says about truth shows that it is not truth as such in his view that is theend or perfection of the intellect but truth as known.66 Truth as known occursnot just when one’s judgment conforms to reality but when one is acquaintedwith that conformity.67 Truth as known is thus reflective knowledge. If only thefirst condition is met truth is in the intellect since the latter conforms to being.But it does not know or apprehend its own conformity to being. This might becalled first-order truth. It is how truth is in intellect in its simple apprehensionof essences. But when the second condition is met, this ignorance is overcome.Intellect not only conforms to being or is true, but it is acquainted with its ownlikeness to being. This might be called second-order truth or truth as known. Itis how truth is in intellect in judgment or what Aquinas often calls “composingand dividing.” In and through the copula in judgment, one affirms that the ref-erent of the subject conforms to one’s idea of it in the predicate.68 In so doing,one not only has a likeness of the thing known in one’s intellect but one also“reflects on that likeness by knowing it and by making a judgment about it.”69

Thus, suppose I truly judge that Jones is in his office. Then, not only istruth in my intellect but also, in making that judgment, I know reflectively thecomposition I make of subject and predicate, of Jones and the idea of his be-ing in his office. And since that composition conforms to reality or is true, Iknow the conformity of Jones to my own idea of him. In other words, I knowor am acquainted with truth. And it is in this second-order, reflective truth—

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in this condition of knowing truth in judgment—that intellect reaches its endor is perfected.70

As it is with truth, so is it with falsity. Suppose I falsely judge that Jones isin the classroom. Here again, not only is falsity in my intellect but also I amacquainted with that falsity.71 For in making that judgment I am acquaintedwith the composition I make of the subject and the predicate, of Jones and theidea of his being in the classroom. But since that composition is false, what Iam acquainted with this time is falsity or a composition in mind that fails tomatch reality.

Yet the paradox is that from the fact that I am acquainted with truth and fal-sity in and through making true and false judgments, respectively, it does notfollow that I know that those judgments are true and false. Except in the caseof lies, when I falsely judge that S is P I neither believe nor know that it isfalse that S is P. Even so, since I am evidently acquainted with my own com-position of S and P and the latter fails to conform to reality, I am none the lessacquainted with falsity. The same goes for truth. Suppose that I truly judgefrom afar that Jones is in his office. In and through that judgment I am surelyacquainted with my own composition of S and P. Just to that extent am I ac-quainted with truth since that composition conforms to reality. Yet from thefact that I am so acquainted it does not follow that I know that the composi-tion or judgment with which I am acquainted is true.

No doubt the latter is sometimes the case. And like many other philosophers,Aquinas holds that it is better for intellect to know than not to know, i.e. thatknowledge is better than either belief or ignorance. So in his view intellect isperfected when it is not only acquainted with its own true compositions or judg-ments (which is always the case) but when it also knows that those same com-positions or judgments are true. For example, suppose I judge that I exist. Then,not only is it the case that my judgment is true and that therefore, in being ac-quainted with my judgment, I am ipso facto acquainted with truth. It is also thecase that I know that I am acquainted with truth, i.e. I know that the (true) judg-ment with which I am acquainted is true. By contrast, suppose I judge truly thata person with whom I have had no contact for many years exists. Then onceagain, in being acquainted with my own judgment, I am necessarily acquaintedwith truth. But the difference is that in this case I do not know that what I amacquainted with is truth or in other words I do not know that the (true) judg-ment with which I am acquainted is true. By analogy, in being acquainted withJones who happens to be chair of the curriculum committee, I am ipso facto ac-quainted with the chair of the curriculum committee. But from that it does notfollow that I know that I am acquainted with the chair of the curriculum com-mittee or in other words that I know that Jones is chair of that committee.

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THE ORDER OF KNOWLEDGE

Further, intellect is perfected in its knowledge of truth by knowing true con-clusions as opposed to knowing true premises in sound arguments. For rea-soning is not an end in itself in the view of Aquinas but has its term in trueconclusions and the term or end of something perfects it.72 Besides, except inmathematics where the better known absolutely and the better known to usare perhaps the same, argument proceeds from what is better known to us butnot better known absolutely to what is better known absolutely but not betterknown to us.73 That is simply to say that, whether we argue from cause to ef-fect or from effect to cause, the premises must be more obvious to us thantheir conclusions. Otherwise we should never use the premises to prove theconclusions but instead would end up trying to prove the more evident interms of the less evident. A case in point is arguing from first principles inmetaphysics, philosophy of nature, and ethics. These he regards as knowledgethat is common to all persons and as the starting point in the quest for knowl-edge. Knowledge of first principles is the beginning and not the end or apexof known truth. Armed with the knowledge of these first principles which aredirectly and most easily known by us, we proceed to use those principles togain knowledge of truths in those sciences that are not either directly or eas-ily known by us. Thus, we move in these areas from the obvious to the morehidden and recondite. This is a movement from knowing the latter potentiallyin the principles to knowing them actually as conclusions drawn from thoseprinciples by reason. These conclusions, to repeat, are less knowable to uswhereas the principles from which they are drawn are more knowable to us.At the same time, since (i) the conclusions are more specific than the prem-ises or principles from which they are inferred, and since (ii) increased speci-ficity follows upon form, and since finally, (iii) something is intelligible in it-self to the extent that it is or has form, it follows that conclusions are moreknowable or intelligible in themselves than are the principles from which theyare drawn, even though they are less knowable or intelligible to us.

This sounds esoteric until we see what is behind it. And what is behind itare two things. First (1), in the order of being, something is knowable to theextent that it is form or act. Thus God, who is pure form or act without anypotentiality is supremely knowable in Himself, though not, of course, firstknown to us. Second (2), in the order of knowledge, what we first know is farfrom being form or act alone or anything close to that. For what we first knoware certain wholes or mixes of the actual and the potential. And they are dou-bly composite in this way, i.e. they are composite both in the order of essenceand in the order of existence. Ordinary things like trees and toads are notidentified with their own forms but are instead a composite of form and mat-

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ter. And being contingent beings, they are not identified with their own actsof existence either but are rather a composite of existence and essence. Andin both orders the relationship of the two elements is one of the actual to thepotential.

As to (1), since Aquinas construes knowledge as the reception of form asabstracted from matter, then any being at all is knowable to the extent and de-gree that it is form as opposed to matter, act as opposed to potentiality. Thatis why, as was said, God is supremely knowable in his view. As to (2), just asI first sense physical wholes or substances the parts of which I only later senseby closer scrutiny, so too I first understand logical wholes and only later dis-cern their parts. Among concepts, I know genus before species. For to knowthe species I must needs know the difference and this takes time. Thus,though I know that a condor is a bird, it takes some time and effort on my partto uncover the differentia which marks off condors from other birds. Butgenus is taken from matter and difference from form. Thus, in the matter ofconcepts and in the temporal order I first know the more general or what isthe more potential before knowing the more specific or what is less potentialand more actual. The paradox is that even though a thing is knowable on ac-count of its form—so that a formless entity is not strictly speaking known tous—nevertheless, the more something approaches pure form or the less it ismixed with potentiality the less knowable it is to us.

As it is with concepts so is it with propositions. I know the more generallogical principles before acquiring specific knowledge in botany, geology, an-thropology, and so on. And in fields like mathematics and ethics, I use basicprinciples to come to understand more recondite truths in those sciences.Through knowledge of axioms and definitions in mathematics I come to dis-cover hitherto unknown theorems. For example, reasoning from the axiomsand definitions of Euclidean geometry, I come to know the theorem that theexterior angle formed by extending the lines of the base and hypotenuse of aright triangle is equal to its adjacent interior angle. And though it is untrue tosay that ethics is a purely deductive science, nevertheless, through knowingethical principles I come to know that more specific ethical propositions aretrue. Thus I justify the latter in terms of the former. All persons know that theyought to do good and avoid evil, that kindness is better than cruelty, that jus-tice is better than injustice, etc. And in the light of these principles we judgethat certain specific actions are to be taken or eschewed. Whether mathemat-ical or ethical, the general principle is behind the more specific truths in thoseareas the way in which, in concepts, knowledge of genus is behind knowledgeof species. It is behind it or first not in the order of being but in the order ofdiscovery or knowledge. Putting (1) and (2) together, then, we then under-stand the previously mentioned view of Aquinas that principles or premises

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are more knowable to us but less knowable in themselves while conclusionsare less knowable to us but more knowable in themselves.

SOME OBJECTIONS

Be that as it may and recurring to truth, for at least two reasons philosophersbalk at the idea that truth is in mind and not in things. First, to say this sug-gests a hiatus between mind and reality, between mind and matter. This in-vites a recalcitrant dualism. If mind is one thing and world another—the twostanding over against each other as two self-enclosed systems—then you endup with an unnegotiable dualism. And in that case it is difficult to see how itmakes sense to say that mind corresponds to or is true of reality. That impliesa unity behind the difference which the stark Cartesian dualism excludes.This is just one dimension of the mind-body mystery. Or suppose that sayingthat truth is in minds and not in things implies a hard and fast division ofthought and world. Then is that very claim i.e. that thought and world are ab-solutely different really consistent? To say either that thought is absolutelydifferent from world or that world is absolutely different from thought is todefine each one of them in terms of the other, thus spiking the supposed ab-solute distinction between them. Second, saying that truth is in minds seemsto invite psychologism under which truth-bearers are wrongly identified withcertain mental acts or entities.

Nevertheless, these concerns about the claim that truth is in mind and notin things feed on misconceptions about how intellect and judgments are con-strued in Aristotle and Aquinas. For one thing, neither Aristotle nor Aquinasare Cartesian dualists and for another, neither one of them predicates ‘true’ ofbare psychological acts. Intellect in Aristotle and Aquinas is far from beingthe separated substance that res cogitans is in Descartes. And if it is not, thenthe threatened gap between mind and matter fails in the first instance to sur-face. And when Aquinas says that truth is found in the intellect as “compos-ing and dividing,” i.e. in intellect as judging, he refers not to the psychologi-cal act of composing and dividing but to what is formed in and through thoseacts. The latter are judgments or propositions and they fall not in the categoryof activity, mental or otherwise, but in the category of relation. When I trulyjudge that Jones is seated that judgment consists in the relation of a predicateto a subject. True, that relation is a relation of reason and not a real relation.That is to say, intellect makes it just as it makes universal concepts. But fromthe fact that intellect makes judgments and concepts through its own acts ithardly follows that what we predicate of those judgments and concepts ispredicated of those acts. As it is the concept, and not the act that makes it, that

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has the properties of being universal, of being a genus, of having extension,etc., so it is the proposition or judgment, and not the mental act which makesit, that bears the property of being true or of being false.

THE BEARER OF ‘TRUE’

Yet even if this answers the charge of psychologism, identifying truth-bearerswith beings of reason like judgments faces another challenge. For we some-times call statements true or false when no judgment is behind them. Liarsdisbelieve the lies they tell and yet no one hesitates to call their statementsfalse. Likewise, no one balks at calling them true even when, like Pablo inSartre’s The Wall, the liar disbelieves what he says even though what he sayshappens to be true. But since no one judges that S is P without believing thatS is P, it follows that Aquinas is wrong and truth is not predicated of judg-ments in the sense of entia rationis.

To answer this, defenders of Aquinas might counter that the objection feedson falsely assuming that judging that S is P implies believing that S is P.Though no one believes that S is P without judging that S is P, one can judgethat S is P without believing that S is P. Judging is simply combining twoideas and we can do this without assenting to the combination. Thus the ob-jection fails.

It seems, though, that this defense fails. True, one can judge that S is P with-out either knowing or stating that S is P. Thus, I might judge that Jones is inhis office without either knowing or stating that he is. But what would it belike for a person to judge that S is P without believing that S is P? When be-lief is removed, it seems that judging too is removed. What would it be like forme to judge that Jones is in his office without my believing that he is in his of-fice? The combination of my judging that he is in his office and my not be-lieving that he is in his office is plainly inconceivable. The reason is that tojudge that S is P is not, as the would-be defense proposes, simply to combinetwo ideas. I combine two ideas when I wonder or wish that S is P. Yet won-dering or wishing that S is P falls short of judging that S is P. Judging that S isP is combining two ideas plus accepting it and that is belief. Therefore, judg-ing implies believing no less than believing implies judging. They are, in fact,two names for the same thing, as ordinary language confirms. But if so, thenthe objection still stands. Since, as in the case of lies, we call statements false(or, as the case might be, true) even when there is no belief and hence no judg-ment behind them, and since the same analysis is given of truth as is given offalsehood, it follows that truth does not reside in the “composing and dividing”of two concepts in intellect. In short, if you can have straightforward truth

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without judgment and if among mental entities none but judgments are strictlyspeaking true, then truth is not primarily predicated of judgments and hence isnot strictly speaking in intellect.

And yet it seems that Aquinas would have a counter-reply to this objection.For the latter feeds on the assumption that statements are straightforwardlytrue when there is no judgment or belief behind them, and this Aquinas wouldchallenge. Sentences must be contrasted with the uses to which they are put.Thus, I might use one and the same sentence-type S is P to illustrate a pointin grammar, to elicit an emotion, or more typically, to assert that S is P. Onemight say that these are three different sentence-tokens of the same sentence-type. In any case, it is evidently not of sentences used in the first two ways orin other non-assertive ways that the question of truth and falsity arises. In-stead, as P. F. Strawson showed, we call sentences either true or false onlywhen they are used to make an assertion.74 But to say this is to say that whatis added to a sentence to make it an assertion (and hence susceptible of truthor falsity) is the judgment or belief on the part of the speaker or writer that Sis P. In other words, since what makes any given sentence-token an assertionis nothing else but the accompanying judgment or belief which the sentenceexpresses, then it follows that there is no truth without judgment and hencethat statements are not straightforwardly true when there is no belief or judg-ment behind them. And since the same assay is given of falsehood as is givenof truth, it follows that, since liars disbelieve the lies they tell, their lies areneither true nor false in the strict sense but are called false (or true, as in thecase may be) because the belief or judgment which would accompany themis false (or true).

To this it might be replied that liars do in fact use their lies to make a state-ment and not to express an emotion, to illustrate a point in grammar, or forany other purpose. The very success of their lies depends on their using themin this way. No one is ever deceived by lies, nor are they in fact lies, unlessthe sentences used by liars are used in this way. But then in that case lies arestraightforwardly false (or true) after all, since they are used to make state-ments. Otherwise there would be no lies and hence no one would or could bedeceived by lies. But if lies are straightforwardly false (or true) then it followsthat saying that truth is primarily predicated of beliefs or judgments and pred-icated of statements secondarily or only by reference to the truth of beliefs orjudgments is wrong. Under this analysis, Aquinas is one of many philoso-phers who simply underestimated the role of language in truth.

Nevertheless, in true medieval fashion, Aquinas could reply to this bydrawing a distinction. True, liars use sentences to make statements and boththeir lies and the success of them depend squarely on that use. Statements,though, are not the same as assertions. Moreover, even if they were, what at

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best follows from this is that they are secondarily and not straightforwardlytrue. To spell it out, liars use sentences to make statements because otherwisethey do not even begin to achieve their goal of deception. In other words, theirgoal in making statements is to hide and not to mirror their inner beliefs orjudgments. That is the essence of a lie. But just because of that do their state-ments masquerade as assertions. They are dummy-assertions. Liars do not as-sert that S is P but pretend to do so by using sentences in a statement-makingway. Thus, while all assertions are statements, not all statements are asser-tions. While both are units of language, the difference between them is thatwhereas beliefs or judgments always accompany assertions, they do not al-ways accompany statements, as is evidenced by lies. In any case, all state-ments, whether they are assertions or not, are called true only by reference tobeliefs or judgments. All assertions are secondarily true or false because theyexpress what really is true or false, namely, the beliefs or judgments behindthem. However, dummy-assertions or lies are in a tertiary sense called true orfalse because the assertions for which they masquerade are secondarily trueor false. At least this is what it seems Aquinas’s answer would be.

Yet some would deny either that truth-bearers are identified with beliefs orjudgments in Aquinas’s sense or with statements in the sense of the assertiveuse of sentences. These are proposition-theorists. As the name suggests, thesephilosophers identify truth-bearers with propositions, and the latter are nei-ther mind-dependent nor linguistic entities. Instead, they are what might becalled the objective senses of beliefs or statements. Anyone who makes an as-sertion asserts something and anyone who believes believes something, and itis this “something” or the object of belief that is properly speaking true andnot either i) the believing or the asserting of it or ii) the complex of the be-lieving or asserting together with the object believed or asserted.

This view admits of two possibilities. Either propositions have independentbeing or dependent being. Under the first, propositions are timeless, or, as issometimes said, subsistent (as opposed to existent) entities. They are also in-dependent or self-subsistent entities. If this view is correct, then truth is nei-ther in mind nor in things but in a Platonic heaven along with the propositionsof which it is predicated. Thus, suppose I believe that John loves Mary. Thenwhat I believe, i.e. the proposition that John loves Mary, has objective beingin a transcendent realm. Moreover, just when that same object or propositionis a simple proposition and true, there is a fact in the world which it mirrorsor pictures. Under the second, propositions are not self-subsistent entities buthave being only in and through some complex. That complex is one of a be-lieving or asserting plus the object believed or asserted, and that believed orasserted object is exactly what is meant by a proposition. Under this view,when I believe that John loves Mary, then once again what I believe is a

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proposition, i.e. the proposition that John loves Mary. This time, though, theproposition has no independent being but exists only in and through the be-lief. It is the object-side as opposed to the subject-side of the belief where by‘belief’ it is meant the whole or complex which comprises these two sides, i.e.the complex of the believing-plus-the-thing-believed. Common to both ver-sions of the proposition-theory, though, is the idea that truth-bearers arepropositions and that the latter are neither mental nor linguistic entities butrather objective entities, be they independent or dependent. Under the propo-sition-theory, therefore, truth and falsehood are not tout court mental entitieseven though, under the second version of that theory, they are the objectivecontent of mental entities, i.e. beliefs or judgments.

DIFFICULTIES WITH THE PROPOSITION-THEORY

Since the proposition-theory was in large part adopted by philosophers wholived long after Aquinas, one can only surmise how he would have reacted toit. His general criticism of the theory would doubtless be that it confuses awhole with one of its parts or constituents. For we have seen that the bearerof ‘true’ in the propositional sense is in his view identified with the complexof a judgment together with what is judged in and through that judgment andnot either the former or the latter alone. But aside from what Aquinas wouldhave said about the theory, one can raise several objections to the first or full-fledged version of the theory, not the least of which is that it countenances ob-jective falsehoods.

Under this robust proposition-theory, objective falsehoods are the objectsof false beliefs. When I believe falsely that John loves Mary, I must believesomething. Moreover, as against Russell, proposition-theorists affirm that this“something” is a kind of unitary thing and not a mere aggregate of things.75

What I believe is not a loose concatenation of things taken severally, i.e. John,loves, and Mary, but the unified complex, that-John-loves-Mary. And this unitis nothing less than an objective falsehood. Belief, after all, is a dyadic exter-nal relation and as such requires two terms, in this case, myself and the ob-jective falsehood that John loves Mary. Moreover, to deny the real status offalsehood by placing falsehood in minds makes the bearers of truth and false-hood mental entities and this invites the error of psychologism. It is not actsof believing or judging that are true or false but the objects of those acts. Atleast, this is how these proposition-theorists would argue.

Yet if it is not contradictory, this combination of being both real and falsedefies common sense. Falsehood is not a thing but signifies the lack of some-thing. False judgments are those to which no fact corresponds. When it is notraining and I judge that it is, what I judge to be the case is absent or missing

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in reality. Since, then, falsehood is not real being and yet is a property of judg-ments, it must be in the sense of being in mind as a being of reason. This ac-cords with our commonsense belief that it is what we think or judge to be realthat is false and not the real itself. And since the same assay is given of truthas is given of falsehood, it follows that truth too is in minds and not in things.

Moreover, positing objective falsehoods as the objects of false beliefs com-promises the difference between true and false beliefs.76 If something realcorresponds to mind in false as well as in true belief, it then becomes difficultto see, as Russell says, how the difference between true and false beliefs ispreserved.77 To answer this, proposition-theorists distinguish two kinds ofreal or mind-independent objects. There are existent things such as the eventsor facts to which our true judgments correspond and there are subsistentthings such as objective truths and falsehoods. The difference, then, betweenour true and false judgments is this. Each one of our true judgments has anobjective sense which is a subsistent true proposition and in addition refers tosome corresponding existent fact or event. By contrast, each one of our falsejudgments has an objective sense which is a subsistent false proposition butdoes not in addition refer to some corresponding existent fact or event. Thus,the difference between our true and false beliefs or judgments is preservedwithout assigning truth and falsity to minds.

Nevertheless, other things being equal, it is better not to multiply entities be-yond necessity. Therefore, if by assigning truth to minds one can explain thetruth-relation without falling victim to psychologism, then why admit in additionto existent minds and things a separate realm of subsistent truths and falsehoods?

Besides, it seems that the full-fledged proposition-theory spells skepti-cism.78 For suppose that knowledge entails truth. Thus,

T

If a person R knows that something is the case then it is the case or is true.

If we go by the proposition-theory, then .’ . . is true’ in T is said of a propo-sition. But then T is intelligible only if in T the object of R’s knowledge isalso a proposition. For the pronoun ‘it’ of which ‘true’ is predicated evidentlyrefers to what is known. So, if propositions are truth-bearers and if T is as-sumed, then it follows that propositions are the objects of knowledge-that.But then, when it is known that something is the case what is known is alwaysa proposition and not a fact. Hence, if T is true, then making propositionstruth-bearers implies that facts are unknown. Thus,

1. If a person R knows that grass is green then it is true that grass is green.2. However, no fact is true.

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3. Hence, in knowing that grass is green, R does not know a fact.4. But if R’s knowing that grass is green is not a case of knowing a fact then

nothing is and facts are unknown.

To answer, proposition-theorists could simply identify true propositionswith facts. The former conform to the latter in that they are the latter. Sayingthat a proposition is true is not saying that some other thing, a fact, is mirroredby it but that it, the proposition, is a fact. Therefore, for any person R to knowthat P is true is ipso facto for R to know a fact, in which case the threat ofskepticism dissolves.

Still, identifying true propositions and facts implies that beliefs have dif-ferent objects depending on whether they are true or false and that is coun-terintuitive. If what I believe is a true proposition when I truly believe some-thing, then if true propositions are facts, then it is a fact that I believe when Itruly believe something. But facts are evidently not what are falsely believed.It follows that what I believe or the object of my belief varies with the truth-value of the belief. And that is unacceptable.

Second, equating true propositions and facts installs a category mistake. Iftwo or more species fall under a genus then they have the same type or modeof being. It can be said that dogs and cats fall under the genus animal but itis crossing categories to say that dogs and mermaids fall under the genus an-imal. In the first case the species have real being while in the second there isan illogical mix. Instead, one has real being and the other has imaginary be-ing. This clash of categories comes from ambiguity on the genus animal. Inthe second case but not in the first ‘animal’ simultaneously means two differ-ent things, i.e. real animal and fictional animal. Not surprisingly, therefore,the species in the second division are incoordinate.

When true propositions are only other names for facts, the same mistakeoccurs. The two species that come under the genus proposition are facts andfalse propositions. Yet because facts and false propositions (objective false-hoods) have different modes of being, this division too is crossed. When onesays that facts are and that objective falsehoods are, it is not the same senseof ‘are’ that one uses. Otherwise, either falsehoods are ontologically on a parwith facts or else facts lose their ontological advantage over falsehoods. Butonce again, this conflict among the species signifies ambiguity in the genus.The incoordinate mix of species comes from ambiguity on the genus proposi-tion just as previously it came from ambiguity on the genus animal. Whenfacts are included in the genus proposition then the latter must refer to realbeing. A species that has real being cannot include a genus that has only ob-jective being. Otherwise, since any species includes a genus, the contradic-tion follows that the species in question has simultaneously both real and ob-

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jective being. Yet when objective falsehoods are made a sub-set of the genusproposition then the latter must have only objective and not real being. Andthis is for the same reason. To avoid contradiction, species like objectivefalsehoods that have only objective being cannot be said to include a genusthat has real being.

In short, the proposition-theory is untenable whether one construes the cor-respondence-relation as similarity or as identity. And there is no other way inwhich one can plausibly construe that relation. Assaying that relation in termsof similarity implies skepticism as regards facts. The identity account doesavoid this consequence. But it does so at the price of implying both a cate-gory mistake and the repugnancy that what a person believes varies with thetruth-value of her belief. Proposition-theorists, therefore, must either give upthe correspondence theory or else abandon their proposition-theory alto-gether.

INTENTIONALITY OF THE TRUTH-PREDICATE

That truth is not predicated of some timeless proposition but rather dependson minds is shown by the intentionality of the truth-predicate. Though heidentifies truth-bearers with sentences and not with judgments in Aquinas’ssense, W.V. Quine draws our attention to this fundamental intentionality ofthe truth-predicate. The expression ‘is true’ he says, has the express purposeof reconciling our technical need for sentences with our interest in the objec-tive world.79 Identifying truth-bearers with mind-independent entities like ob-jective propositions, then, comes from not appreciating that fact.80 Though in-terested in the world and not in language (or thought), we nonetheless needto frame sentences or judgments.81 This tends to block or divert our interest.We therefore need the truth predicate to overcome and bridge this obstacle ofsentences or judgments. This it does by referring them beyond themselves tothe world. In that way is the truth predicate a bridge or fundamentally inten-tional. Says Quine,

Truth hinges on reality; but to object, on this score, to calling sentences true, isa confusion. Where the truth predicate has its utility is in just those places where,though still concerned with reality, we are compelled by certain technical con-siderations to mention sentences. Here, the truth predicate serves, as it were, topoint through the sentence to the reality; it serves as a reminder that though sen-tences are mentioned, reality is still the whole point.82

Our purpose in calling something x true objectively speaking is to move orspring us beyond x to another thing y, where y is the real or what is independent

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of mind. That implies that x is not itself reality but mind or at least somethingthat is mind-dependent. Otherwise x or a truth-bearer would be itself real. Butthen it would be nonsense to say that the truth-predicate conveys us beyondtruth-bearers to the real. The English Channel Tunnel does not carry us beyondEngland to France if it is already in France when we enter it. Accordingly, beingby definition intentional and having the property of getting us beyond truth-bear-ers to reality, the truth-predicate is placed among mind-dependent things likesentences or judgments and not among objective entities like objective proposi-tions. But that implies that truth is in minds and not in things.

WILL AS INTELLECTUAL APPETITE

From the power of intellect in the soul one is naturally led to the power ofwill. For besides the power of knowing in us there is also the power of want-ing or desiring. And Aquinas links intellect to will so closely as to define thewill as the intellectual appetite. If for no other reason than that he includes in-tellect in the definition of will but not vice versa, Aquinas makes intellect log-ically prior to will. Further, the intellect is higher than the will when they aretaken in themselves and not in relation to anything else. That is because theobject of the intellect is simpler than the object of the will and a power isranked by its object. But the simpler a thing is the higher it is. An appetitivegood is the object of the will but the objective sense or meaning of an ap-petible good is an object of the intellect. But the meaning of an appetible goodenters into that good as the simpler enters into the more complex.83 Further,when the intellect is taken in relation to the universality of its object and thewill is taken as a determinate power, then the intellect is higher than the will.For the will, its act, and its object all fall under universal being which is theintellect’s object.84 The voluntarism of a Scotus or an Ockham, therefore, notto mention that of a Nietzsche or a Schopenhauer, Aquinas would reject.

APPETITE IN GENERAL

What is behind this definition of the will as the intellectual appetite? As to thegenus, St. Thomas takes up the question of appetite in general at Summa the-ologiae I, question eighty, article one. Here, appetitus is used in a broad senseto cover not just what we call animal appetites like hunger, thirst, and the sex-ual impulse but also any kind of inner tendency or inclination even when itexists in non-living things. The latter might seem odd to us since we do notstraightforwardly predicate tendencies or inclinations of inanimate things.

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But recall that Aquinas follows Aristotle in holding that final causality is op-erative throughout nature and is not confined to the operations of livingthings. Any tendency or inclination is by definition the tendency or inclina-tion toward something, and that toward which something tends is an end.Heavy things like boulders have an inner tendency to descend, while fire hasan inner inclination to spread and rise. Both fall under the category of non-animal appetites which for Aquinas is a sub-category of natural appetites. Hecontrasts these natural activities with violent activities which always workagainst a thing’s natural movement or tendency. The falling rock is a naturalmotion but its propulsion skyward by a rock-thrower is a violent motion. Nat-ural movement is to violent movement in nature what voluntary action is tocoerced action in human affairs.85

As for animal appetites, some, like hunger and thirst, fall under the genus ofnatural appetites while others fall under the category of elicited appetites. Theformer roughly correspond to what some call basic or natural needs. The latteroccur only in animals that have either sense or intellectual knowledge sincethey are defined as appetites that follow on the knowledge of something. Theyare called, respectively, the sense appetite and the intellectual appetite. Thesense appetite divides into the concupiscible and the irascible appetites. Theformer is the appetite through which animals seek what is overall suitable tothem and shun what is hurtful to them. The latter is the appetite through whichanimals resist anything that hinders what is overall suitable to them.86 The iras-cible appetite is thus the champion and defender of the concupiscible.87Animalsact immediately from concupiscible and irascible appetites, says Aquinas, butthose same appetites in humans await the command of the higher appetite of thewill.88 The judgment by which animals know what is overall suitable or hurtfulto them Aquinas calls the natural judgment as opposed to the free judgment ofreason which is behind choice. By natural judgment he means what we call in-stinct. As for the intellectual appetite or will, it belongs to humans alone.

APPETITE AND FORM

The message of Question Eighty, Article One is that behind every appetite isform. Every appetite or tendency in a thing x, be it natural or elicited, issuesfrom some form that is both present in x and the cause of x’s inclination.Thus, the inclination of a fire to spread and rise is due to the form of firewhich is present in any particular fire. Or the inclination of cats to pursuefleeing mice is due to their feline form.

Besides having natural appetites that follow automatically or necessarilyfrom their own natural forms, humans and brute animals have other appetites

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that follow on apprehended forms. These we normally call desires or aver-sions. So humans and brutes are higher than non-knowing beings not just be-cause they can take on the forms of other things while all along retaining theirown forms, but also because, due to that very fact, they have a whole new di-mension of appetite, i.e. elicited appetite. These we normally call desires oraversions. Thus, if it were not for knowledge, no appetite would be a specialpower of the soul. For no power is to be assigned to the soul in particular forthose things that are common to animate and inanimate beings. These elicitedappetites are one with the natural appetites in that they follow on some formwhich is both present in the subjects of these appetites and the cause of them.

Thus, suppose that a cat sees a mouse. The latter’s form which is receivedin the cat’s sensibility elicits in the cat an inclination toward the mouse. It isthus the end or final cause of the inclination. In this way does sensation movethe sense appetite in the cat. It moves it as to the determination of its act. Forobjects detemine or specify their acts and sense presents the sense appetitewith its object. Cognitive powers (be they sensitive or intellectual) move theircorresponding appetites not as efficient causes or as regards the exercise oftheir acts but as final causes, i.e. as regards presenting targets for those acts.Or again, suppose that a sheep sees a wolf. As received in the sheep’s sense,that form causes an inclination in the sheep to flee the wolf. By instinct or whatAquinas calls natural judgment, the cat and the sheep perceive the mouse andthe wolf, respectively, as being a particular good or a particular evil.

TWO OBJECTIONS ANSWERED

Aquinas raises and answers two objections to distinguishing the appetitivepower from the apprehensive power. The first is that they are not different be-cause powers are differentiated by their objects and what we desire is thesame as what we know. The second is that since each power of the soul de-sires, by natural appetite, its own particular object (e.g. colors for sight andsound for hearing) it is unnecessary to assign a particular power, called theappetitive power, as something distinct from these. For the common is not di-vided from the proper.

The first objection feeds on fusing the formal and material objects of thetwo powers. True, when it is the material object that is concerned, what wedesire is the same as what we know. But what is apprehended and what is de-sired differ in aspect or in their formal objects. Something is apprehended assensible or as intelligible while something is desired as suitable or good. Andit is diversity of aspect and not material diversity which demands diversity ofpowers.

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The second objection blurs the difference between natural and apprehendedforms and hence between natural and animal appetites. True, each power of thesoul (such as seeing and hearing) is a form or nature. As such, it does have anatural inclination to its own particular or proper object. But over and abovethese natural appetites, a distinct animal appetite must be posited in the soulby which something is desired as overall suitable to the animal as opposed tobeing suitable to this or that power. The reason is that in knowledge the soulcontains the forms of other things besides its own natural form or powers.Given the general principle that appetite follows form, then, it follows that weshould posit an appetitive power of the soul as distinct from these others.

NATURAL VERSUS ELICITED APPETITE

Two differences in the relation of form and appetite set off these elicited ap-petites from the natural ones. The first was just mentioned. Instead of beingthe natural form of the subject in question, the form is this time the form ofanother which is cognitively present in that subject. For something is desiredonly if it is known. Second, while natural forms automatically or necessarilygive rise to natural appetites, apprehended forms do not automatically or nec-essarily give rise to elicited appetites. Humans and animals evidently do noteither want or shun everything they know.

The first difference gives rise to a third. The apprehended forms that induceelicited appetites are not received in matter as are the forms that are behindnatural appetites. Otherwise cognitive beings physically become the formsthey apprehend in either sense or intellect. But just because these same formsare not received in matter, the inclinations that follow them surpass those thatfollow natural forms. They are immaterial and not material appetites just be-cause the forms in the soul from which they spring are not in matter. Yet, thesense and intellectual appetites differ in their degree of immateriality. The lat-ter but not the former is a spiritual appetite. Since the sense power is the formof a bodily organ while the intellectual power is not, the former depends onmatter for its operation while the latter does not. But as operation is conse-quent upon being, the sense and intellectual appetitive powers that followthese respective knowing powers reflect that difference.89

FORM AS BEHIND APPETITE

If appetite is behind will and if form is behind appetite then form is behindwill. This comes out when we focus on the difference instead of the genus in

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the definition of the will. To do this is to see what is behind the definition ofthe will as the intellectual appetite.

As to that differentia, human beings understand as well as sense. These twopowers are different because their objects are different. We understand uni-versals and sense particulars, even though the universals we understand existonly in particulars. It follows both that the intellectual power is different fromthe sense power and that the intellectual appetite is different from the senseappetite.90 For powers vary with objects and appetites with powers.

But to understand particulars is to receive their intelligible forms in intel-lect just as to sense particulars is to receive their sensible forms in sense.What I understand (as opposed to sense) is dog, cat, and human and not Fido,Felix and Frank. Moreover, any inclination is by definition the inclination to-ward something as end and the end of anything is its good. Something is de-sired to the extent that it is good or perceived to be good. Therefore, the in-clination or appetite in us which follows understanding (as opposed tosensing) particulars is an inclination toward those particulars just so far asthey exemplify universal good, i.e. the good as common to all particulars.

Aquinas’s point might be put this way. The object sensed moves the senseappetite toward it as particular good just because that object is the form thatis a particular or sensible form. By the same token, the object understoodmoves the will toward it as universal good just because that object is a uni-versal or intelligible form. Since the form that is grasped by the intellect isuniversal, then what the will desires in the thing known is something uni-versal i.e. universal good. Alternatively, since the intellect knows a particu-lar thing universally and the will tends toward that thing only as it is graspedby intellect, then the will desires that thing universally, i.e. qua good and notqua this good.

The principle behind this is that the moved must follow or be proportion-ate to the mover.91 This refers to final causation. Phidias has the potentialityto make a statue. How it is actualized or what shape the marble takes is de-termined by and proportionate to its mover, i.e. the form or model of it inPhidias’s mind. Similarly, cognitive beings have the potentiality to wantsomething, say, x. What sort of want this is and whether x is desired as par-ticular or as universal good is once again determined by and proportionate toits mover. And once again that mover is some apprehended form or represen-tation in the soul of the agent. If that form exists there particularly as it doesin sense, then the agent desires x as this good. Thus the dog desires this bonenot as bone but as this bone. But if the form exists there universally as it doesin the human intellect, then the agent desires x only so far as it exemplifiesgood itself or universal good.

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The matter might be put this way: since inclination follows form and theapprehended form in the intellect is necessarily universal, then two things fol-low. First, the appetite in question must be different from that which followsacquaintance with a particular form; and second, the appetite that is elicitedby that form must tend to the object just as good and not as this good. Butanything that is inclined to is inclined to as end and good has the nature of anend. It follows that the object of the intellectual appetite or will is the good assuch or universal good. Succinctly, the object of the will must be universalgood because the object of the intellect is universal being and the intellectmoves the will through the form apprehended.

This is confirmed by experience. What a physician desires in his patientJones is health as such or health taken universally. Though that desire is sat-isfied when health is instantiated in Jones, it is not this health rather than thatthat the physician desires.92 He cannot be disappointed that this health comesto be in Jones instead of that one. For what he desires for Jones, Smith, andeach one of his other patients is health as such, health period. True, he mightdesire different means to that end for Jones and for, say, Smith. But they areevidently different means to the same end, i.e. health itself. Or suppose that athirsty sick person sees several equal glasses of water. Though any particularglass will slake her thirst, what she desires is water and not the particular wa-ter in any one glass. It is because she desires water as such and not this wateras opposed to another just like it that she is not dissatisfied when her nursebrings her one glass and not another.

That does not mean that we will a separated goodness any more than say-ing that we understand universals means that we understand separated uni-versals. Aquinas is an Aristotelian and not a Platonist. Though the objects ofunderstanding are universals, they are not separated, Platonic universals. Justso, though the object of the will is universal good, it is not the separated Pla-tonic Form of Goodness.

THE RELATION OF INTELLECT AND WILL

Of the two powers, intellect and will, the former is on balance prior to the latterin an absolute sense according to Aquinas. One reason for this is that the intel-lect moves the will as final cause while will moves intellect as efficient cause,and Aquinas follows Aristotle in according priority to final causes.93 In all casesis the final cause the cause of the causality of the efficient cause and not vice versa. Besides, while no function of the will is independent of the intellect,some functions of the intellect are independent of the will.94 Willing ends is

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presupposed in choosing means in practical affairs just as understanding princi-ples is presupposed in reasoning to conclusions in speculative matters. As we as-sent to conclusions only because we understand principles, so do we want meansonly because we want ends.95 Strictly speaking, we do not understand conclu-sions. We reason to them. We are said to understand conclusions only becausewe understand the principles they include. Similarly, we do not strictly speakingwill means to ends. We choose them. We are said to will means only because wewill the ends they include. These ends, in turn, we might move ourselves tochoose and hence freely choose. But if we do, we must do so under a further ormore ultimate end. We might again move ourselves to choose the latter under astill further end. But since this cannot proceed to infinity, says Aquinas, then inits first movement the will is not free but moved by something external.96

In the light of the relation of intellect and will, I turn to the question of free-dom. Freedom in Aquinas makes no sense outside a framework of natural ne-cessity. Persons are naturally and necessarily inclined to a final end or good.97

That is true whether they will it just as persons or as persons in some inci-dental capacity. Moreover, in choosing means to ends, again whether as per-sons or as physicians, teachers, farmers, etc., persons necessarily choosethose means which, following deliberation, they judge to be the best means tothose ends. No one who seeks end E and who after deliberation judges that Mis the best means to E fails to choose M.98 Says Aquinas,

Judgment, as it were, concludes and terminates counsel. Now counsel is termi-nated, first, by the judgment of reason; secondly, by the acceptation of the ap-petite. Hence the Philosopher says that, having formed a judgment by counsel,we desire in accordance with that counsel.99

Yet despite this necessity persons are none the less free in his view. Theyare free in the sense that their actions can be and sometimes are voluntary andnot violent, the latter being actions that are pushed from behind by externalefficient causes.100 Voluntary acts are ones that originate in the subjects ofthose actions and not in another. They are actions of which those subjectsthemselves and not other things are the efficient causes. This freedom of ac-tion, Aquinas thinks, humans share with animals. When sheep flee wolves,their actions spring from instinct which is no external efficient cause butwhich originates in the sheep themselves.101 Yet unlike animals, persons arefree in the sense of having freedom of judgment. And it is due to this that, un-like animals, persons have free choice.102 How this freedom of choice is rec-onciled with the necessity of choosing what, after deliberating, we judge tobe the best means to an end turns on distinguishing conditional and absolutenecessity in human action. And this in turn hangs on the difference betweenfinal and intermediate ends and the capacities in which persons act. All this is

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addressed in more detail in the following section. For the moment, though, Ifocus on the relation of intellect and will and begin with an assay of choice.

Choice follows the judgment that one thing is preferred to another. This inturn follows the comparison and deliberation of reason. So choice presup-poses prior comparison and deliberation of alternatives by reason.103 Thus dowe move from reason to choice. We do not, however, move from reason toends. That is because ends are first in things practical just as principles arefirst in things theoretical.104 As we advance from principles to conclusions inthings intelligible, so do we advance from ends to means in things appetible.Thus, so far from reasoning to ends, we first incline to ends by natural ne-cessity and then reason from ends to means. As we understand first principlesby natural necessity, so do we incline to final ends by natural necessity. It fol-lows that all that are chosen are means and not ends.105 Thus,

1. We advance to objects of choice from reason.2. We do not advance to ends from reason.3. The objects of choice are evidently either ends or means.4. Therefore, anything chosen is a means.

Take Smith, who acts just as physician and not as wife, mother, or as in anyother capacity. With respect to her patient Jones and qua physician, Smithdoes not advance from reason to the end, i.e. health. She does not deliberateas to whether or not to aim at Jones’ health. As physician, she aims at that endimmediately and necessarily. Otherwise ends are not first in practical knowl-edge. To the extent that she does not aim at Jones’ health immediately andnecessarily—aiming instead at Jones’ continued or even aggravated illness—Smith acts not as physician but as a vicious person. Yet, Smith evidently doesmove from reason to choice of means, showing that means are second and notfirst in things practical. She deliberates, for example, about the type andamount of food, exercise, or medicine to be prescribed. Or consider Smith notas physician but just as a human being. She does not in that capacity comparevarious ends and deliberate about them, finally choosing happiness. She doesnot, in other words, move from reason to the end of happiness. Instead, endsbeing first and not last, she immediately and necessarily aims at happiness,just as we all do as human beings. But again like all of us, she does deliber-ate as to the best means to happiness, moving from reason to the choice ofthose means.

Since all that are chosen are means and means fall under an end as conclu-sions fall under principles, it follows that ends are objects of an act of the willthat is distinct from choosing, just as principles are objects of an act of the in-tellect that is distinct from reasoning, i.e. understanding.106 This act of the will

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which has ends as its objects is willing as opposed to choosing. Willing endsno more follows reasoning than understanding principles follows reasoning.Otherwise ends are confused with means and willing is falsely assimilated tochoosing, just as, in the case of the latter, principles are confused with con-clusions and understanding is falsely assimilated to reasoning. So in practicalknowledge there is always this dualism of willing ends on the one hand andchoosing means on the other, the former being prior to the latter. These canno more exchange functions or be reduced to each other than understandingfirst principles and reasoning to conclusions can exchange functions or be as-similated to each other in theoretical knowledge.

Nonetheless, though willing does not depend on reasoning as does choos-ing, willing does depend on another act of intellect, i.e. simple apprehension.One wills only what one knows or apprehends. It is the apprehended end thatis willed, just as it is the reasoned-to means that is chosen. Intellect moveswill in the sense of providing or presenting the will with its object.107 Put dif-ferently, the will’s object is being considered as end or good whereas the in-tellect’s object is simply being, and it is evident that the latter is logicallyprior to the former. Therefore, since powers are measured by their objects, itfollows that intellect is logically prior to will. It moves will as to its object.

However, in another sense of ‘moves,’ will moves and so is prior to intel-lect. It moves intellect not as to the determination of its object but as to theexercise of its acts.108 Here, will moves intellect as efficient cause. Specifi-cally, will moves intellect in the latter’s reasoning to conclusions and weigh-ing and measuring means to an end. The reason for this is that even thoughintellect is prior to will as to their respective objects, will is prior to intellectas regards their respective ends. The end of will, i.e. good itself is logicallyprior to the end of intellect, i.e. truth. As specific good, the good of intellect,truth, includes good in its definition and not vice versa.109 For example, be-cause the end of a general is wider than the end of a captain, the former movesthe latter as efficient cause to the exercise of his acts. Even so, since in itsfunctions of apprehending essences and understanding first principles intel-lect in no sense depends on will—whereas for its part, no function of will isindependent of the intellect—it follows that in an absolute sense intellect isprior to will.110

Since choice consists in preferring one means to another under an end,things are chosen under the aspect of what is good in itself. For an end is whatis desirable for its own sake and not for another’s and what is desirable for itsown sake is good in itself. In a different sense, all specific ends too are willedunder the aspect of good. They are willed only because they exemplify goodin itself. For example, it is a condition of Smith’s willing health as end thatshe knows what health is. But the aspect under which it is known is evidently

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different from that under which it is willed. It is known insofar as it is intel-ligible while it is willed insofar as it is appetible. But being appetible orwanted for its own sake is just what it is meant by calling health good in it-self. So specific ends like health as well as the means to those ends are de-sired under the aspect of good itself.

To bring this out, when Smith prescribes penicillin for Jones it is becauseshe judges that it is the best way in this case to achieve her end as physician,i.e. health. In order to make that judgment, Smith must understand the moregeneral concept of utility or instrumental good. But since the latter is itself in-telligible only through the idea of good itself, it follows that choosing oneparticular means or instrumental good over another is always made in thelight of the idea of good itself. Cognitively speaking, therefore, universalgood or good itself is behind every particular choice we make. If choice is ofmeans, if end is behind means, and if good has the nature of an end, thenevery choice is made in and through knowledge of good itself.

But it is not just the idea of good itself that is behind all our choices. It isthe want of it as well. In terms of the example, since means are chosen onlybecause the end is willed, what moves Smith to choose penicillin is her de-sire for health. Otherwise she would have no interest in penicillin. We wantthe means only because we want the end. Nor can the latter be anything buta final end. If S wants A for the sake of B, B for the sake of C, C for the sakeof D, and so on, there must be in this chain a final end that S wants for itselfalone.111 Otherwise S does not want A, B, C, D, etc. For S wants these onlybecause S wants something else. Now what is final end or end itself is equiv-alent to what is good itself. Further, qua acting in any capacity at all, we allof us want what is end itself. Thus, physicians as physicians want health, gen-erals as generals want victory, teachers as teachers want learning, and so on.Though they are very different things, these objects have something in com-mon. From the perspective in which they are sought, they are one and all ofthem wanted for themselves alone. Thus do they all share the character of be-ing end or good itself. It is this character on account of which they are soughtand on account of which the means by which they are realized are sought.From this it follows that what moves a person R to act in any specific capac-ity C is the character that some object O has, when viewed from the perspec-tive of C, of being end or good itself.

Granted that good itself is behind all our choices when we act as physi-cians, generals, teachers, etc., is good itself behind all our choices when weact just as human beings? If so and that good is evidently not identified withhealth, victory, or learning, with what is it identified?

The first question is answered by underscoring what has been said. Since (i)action follows choice, (ii) choice is of means, (iii) choosing a means occurs

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only under the aegis of willing an end that is not means to a further end but fi-nal end, (iv) final end or end itself is just another name for good itself, it fol-lows (v) that good itself is just as much behind our choices and actions as hu-man beings as it is behind our actions and choices as physicians, generals,teachers, and so on. Whether one chooses and acts in some capacity that is in-cidental to being human (i.e. as physician, general, etc.) or whether one actsand chooses just as human makes no difference so far as what ultimatelymoves our choices is concerned. And that is what in that capacity is end orgood itself.

As to the second question, when we choose and act just as persons as op-posed to choosing and acting in some incidental capacity, what we ultimatelywant is happiness.112 One might possibly want health, money, power, fame,friendship, security, peace, knowledge, etc. for the sake of happiness but onecannot possibly want happiness for the sake of any one of these things or forthat matter for the sake of anything else. Happiness alone cannot possibly bemeans but can only be end.

So it is that whenever we make choices—whether just as persons or as per-sons in some capacity that is accidental to a person—we do so only becausewe naturally and necessarily will what in that capacity is good in itself. Asphysician, Smith naturally and necessarily wills health and as teacher, Jonesnaturally and necessarily wills learning. Taken qua physician and qua teacherrespectively, it is not in their power to will otherwise. That is only possible ifthey will in some capacity other than as physician or teacher. And as humanbeings, all three of them join all of us in naturally and necessarily willing hap-piness. Here there is no freedom but only necessity.

FREEDOM AND NECESSITY IN THE WILL

Suppose, then, that we necessarily will final ends whether we will just as per-sons or as persons in some incidental capacity. Is it also true that we neces-sarily choose the means to those ends in the sense that we are unable tochoose otherwise than we do? Or are we free in choosing means even thoughwe are unfree in willing final ends?

It might seem that it is the same with means as it is with ends. Believingthat penicillin and using audio-visual aids are the best means to the ends ofhealth and learning respectively in any particular case, is it in the power of ei-ther Smith or Jones taken respectively as physician and as teacher not tochoose those means to the ends in question? Quite generally, choosing andacting in some specialized capacity, can a person both believe that M is over-all the best means to achieve her end E in that capacity and yet choose some

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means other than M? Following Aristotle, Aquinas answers that she cannot.Otherwise he should not have quoted with approval Aristotle’s affirmationthat “having formed a judgment by counsel, we desire in accordance with thatcounsel.”113 Convinced upon deliberation that dropping the atomic bomb onHiroshima was the best means to military victory, and wanting that end asCommander-in-Chief, President Truman must in that same capacity decide todrop the bomb.

Yet, that does not mean that President Truman was absolutely compelled tocome to that decision in Aquinas’s view. Nor, in the case of our previous ex-amples, does it mean that Smith was absolutely compelled to prescribe peni-cillin or that Jones was absolutely compelled to use audio-visual aids. The ne-cessity in these cases is conditional and not absolute. For recall that Aquinasheld that happiness is the absolute last end of persons as persons, i.e. that allpersons naturally and necessarily seek happiness. It is always possible, there-fore, that Truman disbelieves that immediate victory is compatible with thatend. For example, he might have thought that the heavy cost of immediatevictory would cause more general unhappiness than happiness and hence di-minish his own happiness. Or he might have thought that public outrage overthe carnage of an immediate victory would preclude his re-election. If so,then his immediate end might have been a negotiated, conditional surrenderinstead of military victory. In other words, he might have acted not as Com-mander-in-Chief of United States forces but in some other capacity, say, asdiplomatic leader of the free world or as politician.

The point is that Truman’s acting for victory is only conditionally neces-sary. He is determined to act for immediate victory only if he sees the latteras the best means to the final end of happiness. Therefore, because he is con-ditionally and not absolutely determined to will immediate victory as end,Truman is likewise only conditionally and not absolutely necessitated to givethe order to drop the bomb even if he deliberatively judges this to be the bestmeans to that end. So Aquinas’s view here is that while Truman is like all ofus absolutely necessitated as regards his last end, he is never absolutely ne-cessitated as regards mixed or intermediary ends, i.e. ends (like military vic-tory or a negotiated conditional surrender) that can serve as means to the fi-nal end of happiness. With respect to these he can only be conditionallynecessitated. The reason for this is that, the will being in his view the intel-lectual appetite, its object is what is end or good in itself or universal goodand not mixed good or good or end that can also be means to a further end.And since only the former determines the will, the will is open or free withrespect to the latter. In any case, if the will can be only conditionally andnever absolutely necessitated as regards these mixed or intermediate ends orgoods, then it can only be conditionally and never absolutely necessitated as

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regards the means to these ends, even what are judged to be the best meansto those ends.

The same goes for Smith or Jones. To take the former, necessarily willinghappiness as her last end, Smith might have believed that Jones’s health wasincompatible with that end. For example, Jones might have believed that herhappiness consisted in accumulating as much wealth as possible and that thislast end was incompatible in this case with her end as physician, i.e. Jones’shealth. For suppose that Smith happens to be heiress to Jones’s fortune. If so,then her immediate end might have been the latter’s demise and not herhealth. And then with respect to Jones, Smith would not have acted as physi-cian but as immoral person. In other words, since, unlike happiness, the endof health is not end or good in itself, it does not compel the will. So insteadof being absolutely necessary, Smith’s acting for Jones’s health is contin-gently necessary, i.e. necessary only if she acts as physician. Therefore, be-cause she is in the first instance conditionally and not absolutely necessitatedto will Jones’s health, Smith is likewise only conditionally and not absolutelynecessitated to prescribe penicillin for Jones even if she deliberatively judgesthis to be the best means to the end of Jones’s health. In sum, we must choosewhat we take to be the best means to our ends provided that we will thoseends. But with the exception of happiness, we need not in the first instancewill those ends and hence the best means to those ends. In sum, when it con-cerns mixed ends, then, rejecting any absolute necessity of choice under thoseends, Aquinas would reject the stronger statement 1 below and accept theweaker statements 2 and 3. Under 1, Truman is absolutely necessitated tochoose to drop the atomic bomb when he judges that that action is the bestmeans to his immediate end of military victory. Aquinas would reply thatsince the end here is not end or good in itself but rather a mix of good andnon-good, then Truman need not will it in the first place and so is not ab-solutely necessitated to take any means to that end, including dropping thebomb. If choice is always of means and if means includes but is not identi-fied with the idea of end, then any means is a mix of end and non-end, of goodand non-good. But as only what is pure good or end compels the will, we arealways free as regards means. Besides, choice includes both desire and delib-eration, says Aquinas114 and so is correctly characterized either as intellect in-fluenced by appetite or as appetite influenced by intellect. But since deliber-ating implies that what we deliberate about is up to us, it follows that choiceimplies freedom. In any case, 1 on the one side and 2, 3 and 4 on the otherexpress the difference between the necessity of the consequent and the ne-cessity of consequence, respectively. And it is only 1 that excludes freedomof choice. Thus,

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1. If a person S wills an end E, then it is necessary that S chooses somemeans M to E.

2. Necessarily, if a person S wills an end E, then S chooses some means Mto E.

3. Necessarily, if a person S wills an end E and S is cognizant of severalmeans to E, then S chooses what S believes is the best means to E.

4. Necessarily, if a person S wills an end E and S believes that M is the onlymeans to E, then S chooses M.

For Aquinas, therefore, persons have free choice. But this freedom is con-ditional in that it is always in a context of natural necessity. For all of us nat-urally and necessarily want happiness as our end. Not just that but, acting insome incidental capacity, say, as physician, we must act for what in that samecapacity is the end, in this case, health. Yet, since the various ends in these in-cidental capacities are always mixed ends or goods, they none of them nec-essarily compel our wills. So while he thinks that we are free in our choices,Aquinas would shun that radical freedom of choice, cut off from all necessity,which some existentialists propound. This would he regard as a prodigy, afalse abstraction. To get at the truth about freedom we must avoid cutting itoff from necessity, thereby installing a stark, irresolvable dualism. We needinstead to strive for a unity-in-difference in which both necessity and freedomplay a role in the appetitive life of persons.

To show this, Aquinas adverts to that parallelism between theoretical andpractical reason to which reference was previously made. In theoretical rea-son we start with self-evident general principles which we do not reason tobut to which we naturally and necessarily adhere. In knowing these widestprinciples, the understanding is moved by them as by something external.Yet the irony is that it is only through first being moved by these generalprinciples that the intellect can then move itself to know less general truthsin the light of them. Thus is determined intellect the condition of free intel-lect.

To spell it out, intellect moves itself from knowing the less general propo-sitions inchoately or potentially in the principle to knowing them expressly oractually in drawn conclusions. This it does through reasoning. Reasoning isthus the intellectual mediator between understanding a principle and affirm-ing a conclusion. Unlike the understanding intellect, this reasoning intellect isfree in the sense of being self-moved. From being passively moved by firstprinciples, intellect actively draws conclusions. It is discursive as well as in-tuitive. It is both mover and moved in different respects. It is moved in its un-derstanding of a principle while it moves itself qua in that state by its act of

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reasoning. And just to the extent that it moves itself by its very own internalact of reasoning, intellect is free. Here, ‘free’ means not “possibly acting oth-erwise” but “self-moved” as opposed to “moved by another,” or, in the wordsof Aquinas, “naturally moved” as opposed to “violently moved.”115

Now as it is in the theoretical sphere with intellect, so is it in the practicalsphere with will. Here we start with ends which play the role in practicalthought that principles play in theoretical thought. We no more choose the fi-nal end than we reason to first principles. The will is as passive as regards theformer as understanding is with respect to the latter. Yet it is only through thatpassivity as to the final end that the will moves itself as to means. Thus is de-termined will the condition of free will. Just as intellect springs to action inreasoning to conclusions from being moved by principles, so too does willspring to action in commanding consideration of means from being moved bythe end. Through that command, the will is the efficient cause of moving it-self, qua moved by the end, from a state of potentially choosing a means toone of actually choosing it. As reasoning mediates understanding principlesand forming conclusions in things intelligible, so does this commanding me-diate willing an end and choosing a means in things appetible. To that extentis there a complete parallel between intellect and will. In each one two func-tions are linked by a third. In one, understanding and concluding are linkedby reasoning; in the other willing and choosing are linked by commanding.

Nevertheless, to the extent that the issuing of that command has no exter-nal efficient cause but springs from the will itself, the will is free. Will incommanding consideration of means under an end, and intellect in drawing aparticular instance under a first principle are thus both of them free in thesense of being self-initiated. Though they are evidently caused, in neithercase is the commanding or the reasoning caused in the sense of being pushedfrom behind by some efficient cause that lies outside the commanding or rea-soning agent. The movement is in each case natural and not violent, volun-tary and not forced.

As it is with commanding so is it with choosing. In choosing a means un-der an end the will is once again free in the sense of being the efficient causeof its own act. True, intellect moves will as to its object. Qua willing an end,one cannot help choosing that means which the intellect judges to be the best.Yet this conditional necessity of the will in choice is all on the side of thewill’s object. It does not determine the will as regards the exercise of its act.In its passive state of being moved by what its object is qua willing, i.e. anend, the will actively commands consideration of means. Then, once again ina second passive state of being moved by intellect by what its object is quachoosing, i.e. a means, the will actively chooses a specific means. In eachcase does the will move in commanding and in choosing only because it is

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moved by an object, namely, by an end and by a means, respectively. All itsfreedom it thus owes to necessity. And its freedom, both in commanding andin choosing, consists in the lack of any external efficient cause. My choicesare no more pushed from behind by another than are my reasonings or mycommands. Otherwise the choosing is that other’s and not mine and it issenseless to say that I choose, just as under the same assumption it is sense-less to say that I reason or that I command.

Yet freedom in Aquinas is more than this. I am not only free in that I, andnot another, am the efficient cause of my own choices. I am also free in be-ing able to “take one thing while refusing another.”116 True, I am condition-ally determined once I judge that the one thing is preferable to the other toachieve some mixed or intermediate end. In a word, in this case I am condi-tionally determined in my consequent will. Here, as was said, intellect deter-mines will. But that does not imply nor is it the case that I am conditionallydetermined in my antecedent will. That is to say, before I judge that onemeans is preferred to another in order to attain some mixed end, I retain thepower of being inclined to either one, says Aquinas.117 And just to that extentdo I have free choice.

To recur to the foregoing example, Smith as physician is conditionally de-termined to prescribe penicillin for Jones once she judges that that drug is thebest means to Jones’s health. Yet there is no necessity, Aquinas would say,that Smith act as physician any more than there is necessity, in our other ex-ample, that President Truman act as Commander-in-Chief. Besides, beforeshe makes that judgment and in the process of deliberating about what meansto take to the end, Smith’s will is free in the sense of being capable of beinginclined to various means to that end. In fact, it is because it follows this free-dom of the antecedent will that the judgment in question is suitably calledfree judgment even though it is that same free judgment that determines theconsequent will. This as contrasted with the judgments of animals which, be-cause they spring from instinct and not from deliberating reason are unable toincline to various things. For that reason, says Aquinas, are they natural andnot free judgments.118 So the paradox is that it is only by free judgment inchoice that the will is determined in choice. It is only through antecedent free-dom of choice that there is consequent, necessity of choice. Even so and forthe reasons given, this necessity of choosing what appears to be the bestmeans to our various mixed ends is in Aquinas’s view conditional and neverabsolute.

Stated differently, free judgment is so called because it follows delibera-tion. For deliberating implies the ability to be inclined to various things.Moreover, since deliberation is a function of the practical reason, freedom inAquinas has its root in reason. When a sheep judges that wolves are to be

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shunned, that judgment springs from instinct and not from deliberative rea-son. As a result, it does not presuppose the ability to be inclined to variousthings. Instead, it implies being inclined to one thing only, i.e. fleeing.Aquinas therefore calls the sheep’s judgment natural as opposed to free. Butwhen Smith judges that prescribing penicillin is the best way to cure Jones,Smith’s judgment does follow deliberative reason and so does presuppose theantecedent ability of being inclined to various things. That is why it is calledfree and not natural judgment.

In sum, the difference between pure and mixed good lay behind the idea offreedom of choice in the thought of Aquinas. Our choices are always of meansor of what is a mixed good. But not being a final end, these means are not justgood but a mix of good and non-good. They are good to the extent that theyinclude good in their notions, since the concept of means includes the conceptof end in its definition. But they are not good to the extent that they are not endbut only means. Since, then, it is a mix of good and non-good, any means mcan be considered by reason either as being something good or as being some-thing non-good. And since choice follows reason, m can therefore either bechosen or avoided depending on the point of view from which it is considered.When considered from the viewpoint of economy, taking a bus to New Yorkmight be attractive. But it might be something to be avoided from the stand-point of comfort. Not being just good, then, taking the bus to New York mightbe either preferred or not preferred. Besides, even if there is a way to NewYork that is from every aspect desirable, it is still only a means and not an end.Hence, unlike happiness or what is end only, that way to New York would beavoidable since it is a mix of good and not good. Not being just good but a mixof good and non-good, no means m absolutely compels the will.119

In any case, though the will depends on the intellect both in choosingmeans and in willing ends, the intellect is independent of both willing andchoosing. At least it is so in apprehending essences and grasping first princi-ples. It can be said, then, that will always depends on intellect as to the de-termination of its objects. Further, it can also be said that both in reasoning toconclusions and in weighing various means to an end, intellect depends onwill as to the exercise of these acts. Even so, since in its functions of appre-hending essences and understanding first principles intellect is independent ofwill—whereas for its part, no function of will is independent of the intellect—it follows that in an absolute sense intellect is prior to will.

SEVEN BASIC QUESTIONS

All this can be spelled out in more detail. To do so albeit at the risk of somerepetition, I consider seven closely related questions which Aquinas raises

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about the will. His answers are subtle and penetrating, showing the causalreciprocity of intellect and will as well as the relation of the will to God. Thequestions run as follows. 1) whether the will moves the intellect?120 (2)whether the will is moved by the intellect?121 3) whether the will desires any-thing of necessity?122 4) whether the will desires everything of necessity?123

5) whether the will moves itself?124 6) whether the will is moved by an exte-rior principle?125 and finally, 7), whether the will is moved by God alone asexterior principle?126 His answers to these questions overlap. So I summarizethem to avoid redundancy in spelling out all the details of each one.

QUESTIONS ONE AND TWO: RECIPROCITY OF INTELLECT AND WILL

The answers to the first two questions are affirmative. That means that Aquinasdistinguishes different respects in which the will and the intellect move eachother. What are these respects? The will moves the intellect as well as everyother power of the soul as agent or efficient cause. Aquinas sometimes ex-presses this by saying that the will moves the intellect as regards the exercise ofits act.127 The reason is that in any order among active powers, the power withthe universal end moves the power with the particular end. Suppose I wantmoney not as a final end but as a proximate end. I want it to buy a house. Thathigher end evidently moves the proximate end. I want the means only becauseI want the end. What is desired in the means is the end. Therefore, since thegood that is the means subserves the good that is the end, the former comes un-der the latter. But just because of that, the power of willing, which concerns theend, moves the power of choosing, which concerns the means. But the will’send is more universal than the intellect’s. It is universal good while the intel-lect’s end is the particular good, truth. In fact, the specific ends of all the pow-ers fall under the object of the will as particular goods. And so, since the par-ticular is explained by the universal and not vice versa (as horse is explained byanimal), it follows that, when things are considered as desirable, the will movesas an efficient cause all the other powers of the soul, including the intellect. Insum, the will moves other powers as the more general end moves the less gen-eral ends. Hence, since good has the nature of an end, the will moves the otherpowers as the more general good moves the more particular goods. But the endof the intellect, truth, is a particular end or good while the end of will is generalgood or goodness as such. Therefore, the will moves the intellect as the goodor the end as such moves a particular good or end that falls under it.

Aquinas offers these examples. A king, whose end is the common good,moves the governors of cities whose ends are the more restrictive goods oftheir respective cities. Or a general, who acts for the good of the entire army,

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moves a captain, who acts for the more restricted good of his own regiment.And he moves them as agent or efficient cause.

But though the will moves the intellect as regards the exercise of its act, theintellect moves the will as regards “the determination of its act.” That justmeans that the intellect moves the will as something aimed at moves an agent.For the object of the will is the good as known. Moreover, the object of apower is its end. So to the extent that the intellect, through the object, movesthe will as something aimed at, it is prior and superior to the will.

Thus does the intellect move the will as final and not as efficient cause. Itpresents the will with its object or target. For the end of will, good, evidentlymoves the will only by being first apprehended by the intellect. One willsonly what one knows. What the physician desires as end, i.e. health, must bein his intellect in order to be desired. The intellect moves the will, then, asknown end moves the agent.

Further, to the extent that anything is apprehended by the intellect it fallsunder being or the true. For being or the true is the object of the intellect.Hence, to the extent that any end or good is apprehended by the intellect, it isa particular being that falls under universal being or the true. But particularbeing is explained by universal being and not vice versa. But universal beingor the true is the object of the intellect and not the will. Therefore, when theend is in intellect as something intelligible as opposed to something desirable,then the intellect has the more universal object than the will. And just to thatextent is the intellect prior to the will.128


Aquinas uses the occasion of an objection to bring out this paradox of the inter-dependence of the intellect and the will. The objection is that the will cannotmove the intellect because what moves is not moved by what it moves and theintellect evidently moves the will since the apprehended good moves the will.129

The objection is disarmed by drawing the distinctions that were just made.If the intellect and the will are compared according to the universality of theirrespective objects, then the intellect is higher than the will. For the object ofthe former is being and the object of the latter is good. But being is more uni-versal than good in the sense of being the more universal cause. For being isincluded in good as the simple is included in the composite. But the simplera thing is, the higher it is. So, since the object of the intellect, being, is widerand hence simpler than the object of the will, good, it follows that the intel-lect is simpler and hence prior to the will. For powers vary with their objects.

Further, suppose that the intellect is taken in relation to the universality of itsobject, being, and the will is taken as some specific thing, i.e. as a determinate

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power. Suppose, in other words, that the will, its act, and its object are taken asjust some among the many things (animals, stones, wood, etc.,) that are under-stood by the intellect. Then once again, the intellect is higher than will since will,its act, and its object all fall under the wider notion of being. For as cause of theparticular, the universal is higher than the particular. Succinctly, x moves y as tothe determination of its act (i.e. as final cause) when x’s object contains under itthe object of y. But the object of the intellect, being, contains under it the objectof the will, good. As particular being, good falls under the general notion of be-ing. It follows that the intellect moves the will as to the determination of its act.

On the other hand, suppose that the will is considered in relation to thecommon nature of its object, universal good, and the intellect is taken as somespecific good. Then the intellect, its act, and its object (i.e. truth) are ends orthings desired. They are then so many species of good. Because the intellect,its act, and its object then all fall under the common notion of good, they areto that extent caused by good. From that perspective, therefore, the will ishigher than the intellect and can move it. To sum it up, x moves y as to theexercise of its act (i.e. as efficient cause) when the end of x is more universalthan the end of y. But the end of the will, i.e. goodness, is more universal thanthe end of the intellect, i.e. truth. As a particular good, truth falls under good-ness. Therefore, the will moves the intellect as to the exercise of its act.

From all this Aquinas concludes that it is easy to understand how the pow-ers of intellect and will come under each other in their acts. For the intellect“understands that the will wills and the will wills the intellect to under-stand.”130 So it is that in different respects the good is contained under the trueand the true under the good. To the extent that the former is true, the intellectis higher than the will; but to the extent that the latter is true, the will is higherthan the intellect. It all depends on the point of view that is taken.

Finally, when viewed not in itself but in relation to something else, the willcan be higher than the intellect in a kind of incidental sense. This occurs justin case the object of the will really exists in a higher way than it exists inmente. The reason is that the object of the will, good, is in things while theobject of the intellect, truth, is in mind. Thus, love of God is better thanknowledge of God in this life. For the real existence of God is higher than theway God is here present to us in our intellects. By contrast, knowledge ofphysical things is better than love of them. For that in which knowledge ofsuch things exists, the mind, is higher than physical things.131

QUESTIONS THREE AND FOUR

Next come questions 3) and 4) above. Aquinas answers 3) affirmatively and4) negatively. The will desires the good itself necessarily but it desires good

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things contingently. The will is therefore free as regards good things (partic-ipative goods) but determined as regards goodness itself (non-participativegood). It is free as regards means or mixed ends but determined as regardspure ends or ends in themselves. All this needs to be spelled out.

As to 3), Aquinas again compares the will to the intellect. Just as the intel-lect necessarily adheres to first principles, so the will necessarily adheres tothe final end. Moreover, just as we proceed discursively from principles toconclusions in speculative matters, so do we proceed from end to choice ofmeans in practical matters. The end is to choice of means in the practical rea-son what first principles are to conclusions in the speculative reason. SaysAquinas.

. . . Now in appetitive matters, the end is related to the means, which is desiredfor the end, in the same way as, in knowledge, principles are related to the con-clusion to which we assent because of the principles.132

Thus, a physician as physician of necessity desires health as her end. Thisend is the practical principle from which her actions as physician issue. Op-erating under that end, her will moves her intellect to the truth about themeans. Once the latter delivers that knowledge, the physician then choosesthat means. That choice is equivalent to the conclusion of a practical syllo-gism. The physician’s first premise is the practical principle that health is theend. The second is her judgment that a certain action is the right means to theend. And her conclusion is that she ought to choose that means. That is equiv-alent to her choice of that means. That is why choice is described either as ap-petitive intellect or as intellectual appetite.133

. . . Now as we have stated above, the end is in the order of appetibles what aprinciple is in the order of intelligibles. But it is evident that the intellect,through its knowledge of a principle, reduces itself from potentiality to act as toknowledge of its conclusions; and thus it moves itself. And, in like manner, will,through its volition of the end, moves itself to will the means.134

Here, Aquinas again compares willing with knowing. In knowledge, theintellect is externally moved by a principle about which it makes a judg-ment. This grasping of principles on the part of intellect Aquinas calls un-derstanding. Through knowing the principle, the intellect then moves itselfto knowledge of the conclusion. That does not compromise the dictum thatwhatever is moved is moved by another and not by itself. For the respectin which the intellect moves here is different from the respect in which itis moved. The intellect moves insofar as it actually knows something, i.e.a principle. But it is moved insofar as it does not actually but only poten-

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tially knows something, i.e. the conclusion. Since it moves qua knowingone thing and is moved qua not knowing another, the intellect is mover andmoved in different respects.

The intellect moves itself to know a conclusion by a) placing a case underthe known principle or rule and b) drawing the conclusion from the rule andthe case. This follow-up function of intellect is reason. Thus, reason presup-poses understanding but not vice versa. The starting point of reasoning is notreasoning or else an infinite regress breaks out. The starting point of reason-ing is the more basic function of understanding.

As it is with the intellect, so is it with the will. Thus does Aquinas answerquestion 4) negatively. Will does not desire everything of necessity as froman external principle. For will moves itself to a means as intellect moves it-self to a conclusion. Willing is to choosing in things appetible what under-standing is to reason in things intelligible. As understanding a principle is pre-supposed in reasoning to a conclusion, so willing an end is presupposed inchoosing a means. Just as we accept a conclusion because we assent to a prin-ciple, so do we choose a means because we will an end. As reasoning is un-der the aegis of understanding so choosing is under the aegis of willing.

Aquinas presses this comparison of will to intellect further. In things in-telligible, we are first moved of necessity by a principle as from somethingextrinsic. From there we proceed to move ourselves to the conclusionthrough theoretical reasoning. Just so, in things appetible, we are first movedof necessity by an end as from something external. From there we proceedto move ourselves to a conclusion about the means through practical rea-soning. Since that conclusion is equivalent to the choice of that means andsince we have moved ourselves with respect to it, it is necessarily freechoice. Thus does he answer 5) above affirmatively. The will moves itself inchoosing means to an end.

Another example of such a practical syllogism is the following: I am nec-essarily moved to the end of happiness. But I judge that doing x is more con-ducive to happiness than not doing x or than doing y instead of x. I thereforeconclude that I ought to do x to attain happiness. In any case, Aquinas’s ar-gument that choice concerns means might be summarized as follows:

1. Means are chosen because of an end.2. So in things appetible the end is in the position of a principle and the

means in the position of a conclusion.3. But in things intelligible, conclusions are reasoned to because principles

are understood.4. So in things appetible means are chosen because ends are willed.5. Hence, what is willed is the end and what is chosen is the means.

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Alternatively,

1. All choice follows comparison of two or more alternatives.2. Hence, all choice has a reason.3. But the reason for choosing is to gain some end through what is chosen.4. Moreover, that by the choice of which some end is gained is a means.5. Therefore, all choice is of means.

Aquinas’s argument that this choice of means is free choice might be sum-marized as follows:

1. Means are chosen only because some end is willed.2. So the willed end is to the chosen means as a principle is to a conclusion.3. But principles are adhered to of necessity.4. So we will the end of necessity.5. But in things intelligible, we move ourselves to a conclusion through

knowing a principle.6. So in things appetible we move ourselves to choose a means through will-

ing an end.7. But what moves itself moves from no external cause but from within.8. But what moves from within moves freely.9. Therefore, we are free as regards choosing the means to an end.

Alternatively,

1. All choice is choice of means.2. But all choice of means to an end issues from deliberation.3. Hence, all choice issues from deliberation.4. But what issues from deliberation is up to the deliberator and hence free.5. Therefore, all choice is up to us or free choice.

The will moves itself to choose the means in the same way in which itmoves all the other powers to the exercise of their acts. Just as we saw thatthe will moves the other powers to their particular ends due to the universal-ity of its own end (i.e. the good as such) so too does it move itself in its actof choosing due to that same universality of its end. For since choosing con-cerns means which are particular, participative goods and willing concernsthe good as such under which those particular goods fall, it follows that will-ing moves choosing and not the other way around. One act of the will movesanother to the exercise of its act due to the universality of the end in the one,i.e. willing, and the particularity of the end in the other, i.e. choosing. Under

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the aegis of an end, then, the will moves itself to the means. This it does bydeliberating about various means to the end. This involves comparing, weigh-ing, and measuring those means so far as it concerns their suitability to theend. The result of this deliberation and comparison is what Aquinas calls free(as opposed to natural) judgment. In fact, free choice is nothing but this freejudgment of reason.135 It is the judgment that a means to the end ought orought not to be taken and if so, that this and not that means ought to be taken.

Here in this practical syllogism, end is in the position of rule or principle, truejudgment about the means is in the position of case, and the free judgment ofreason that that means ought to be taken is in the position of conclusion. Choiceis just this same conclusion viewed on the side of appetite. Thus, through beingmoved by the end of being healed, the will of a sick person moves itself underthat end to choose the means to that end. This it does by deliberating about thevarious means. This involves comparing those means. The result of this issuesin the free judgment or choice that consulting a physician is what is to be done.So in the practical syllogism, the will in different respects both moves itself andis moved by another, just as in the theoretical syllogism the intellect in differ-ent respects both moves itself and is moved by another.136 Qua willing the end,the will moves itself to choose the means. But qua determinable as regards theend, the will is specified or moved to its end by an exterior cause. Thus, sinceit moves itself in a different respect from that in which it is moved, the will isconsistently said to both move itself and be moved by another. The dictum thatwhatever is moved is moved by another is therefore not flouted.

Another alternative is this:

1. All choice follows deliberation.2. What follows deliberation has a reason. Otherwise it is not the result of de-

liberation but is automatic.3. Therefore, all choice has a reason.4. Moreover, what follows deliberation is up to the deliberator and hence free.5. But the end is a principle in things appetible.6. Principles, though, do not have a reason.7. Hence, the end does not have a reason.8. But since all choice has a reason, the end is not chosen.9. Therefore all that is chosen is both a means and up to us or free.

As regards determinism in willing ends, one might state Aquinas’s argumentthis way:

1. What in any order is end is in the position of a principle.2. We adhere to principles of necessity.

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3. Hence, what in any order is end is something to which we adhere of ne-cessity.

4. We are not free in anything to which we adhere of necessity.5. Hence, what in any order is end is not something to which we freely ad-

here.6. But we adhere to what is end in any order by willing it.7. Therefore, what in any order is end is not something which we will freely.

Depending on whether it moves itself as regards means or is moved bysomething exterior as regards pure ends, then, the will is free or unfree. Weare free as regards the means but not as regards the end. This is true both ofpersons in some specialized capacity and of persons just as persons. Thephysician as physician does not choose health as her end but necessarily willshealth as her end. Though the verb ‘wills’ suggests action, this is misleading.Here, all is passivity. The will is specified and determined by an external endjust as the intellect is specified and determined by an external principle. Andin each case the latter determines the former as object, end, or final cause.Even so, the intellect and the will are free to the extent that they are active.And they are active in reasoning from principles to conclusions and in choos-ing means. The former is the exercise of free reason toward a conclusionwhile the latter is the exercise of free judgment about the means. Thus, in thesame capacity as physician, our physician chooses the means to the end ofhealth. Here, the verb ‘chooses’ does presuppose action on the part of thephysician. Through passively willing the end of health, the will of the physi-cian moves her intellect to conclude that this particular means ought to betaken to that end. Equivalent to that conclusion is the choice of that means.

In the same way, taken as a person and not as a physician, our physiciandoes not choose happiness as her end but necessarily wills it as her end. Sheis completely determined with respect to it. A person cannot but will to behappy. Through being specified by that end, she then moves her intellect toits particular end of truth as regards the means to that end. Having as its enduniversal good, the will here moves the intellect to its specific good, truth. So,while willing concerns only the end and is necessary, choosing concerns onlythe means and is not necessary but free. It is free because it presupposes theaction on the part of the will of moving the intellect to compare means to theend. It is free also because choice at this point is open to various means. Andhere once again, choice follows the judgment of the intellect’s comparison. Itis free choice both because it presupposes that the will, under the end of hap-piness, moves the intellect to the means to that end and because at that pointwill is open to choosing various means. As regards the latter and incidentally,Aquinas uses this same idea of variety to show that God creates all things

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freely and not by the necessity of His nature. He says that if God createdthings by a necessity of His nature (as for example, does Spinoza’s God) thenthere would be no diversity in the kinds of thing that are created.137 In anycase, persons must have free choice, he says, or else “counsels, deliberations,commands, prohibitions, rewards, and punishments would be in vain.”138

Yet freedom of choice requires determinism. Externalism or determinismas regards the end is the condition of internalism or active freedom as regardsthe means. St. Thomas is thus no extreme libertarian or existentialist in histreatment of choice. True, to mark off choosing from willing, Aquinas oftenstresses the freedom of choice. But when it comes to the proper object of will,all is necessitated and nothing is free. That is because willing concerns endand not means and ends are willed of necessity. So to balance things off,Aquinas sometimes emphasizes freedom of choice as regards the means. Yetwithin this free choice of means there is determinism. Since in choice the in-tellect moves the will as known means, the will is moved as well as mover inchoosing the means.

Yet choice is always free choice. Through willing health of necessity, aphysician as physician deliberates concerning the means to that end. In thisrational process of comparison in which the pros and cons of various meansto the end are weighed, all is freedom and nothing is necessitated. Here, thewill retains the power of being inclined to various means. That is so becausenone of those means is goodness itself. Instead, each one of them is a finiteor limited good. That is because each one of them is only a limited or proxi-mate end. To the extent that it is wanted, a means is an end. But to the extentthat it is wanted for another and not for itself, a means is a mixed and not apure end.139 And since good has the nature of an end, any and every means isonly a mixed good.140 But since the will’s object is goodness or endness it-self, the fact that these means are only mixed goods or ends means that no oneof them completely fulfills the will’s appetite for good.141 That is why the willis free to refuse any one of them in favor of another. Because each one ofthem is good only by participation, it does not completely satisfy the will’sorientation to goodness. The will is for that reason not captivated, as it were,by any one of them. It retains the power of being attracted to another meansor instrumental good. That is why, too, the will can deliberate over thosemeans, directing intellect to compare them.

Thus, the very act of weighing and comparing various means to an end im-plies both that these means are finite goods and that the will at that point re-mains undetermined by any one of those goods. And just to that extent is thewill free. Deliberation implies that the will is not confined to or determinedby any one particular good as over against another. And that in turn is becausethe object of the will is the good itself instead of some particular good. And

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that in turn is because the object of the will is good as apprehended by the in-tellect and what is apprehended by intellect is universal and not particular.

So freedom is ultimately rooted in rationality. As contrasted with a physi-cian who weighs and compares means to restoring health, a sheep (to useAquinas’s example) flees the wolf not by judging or comparing things but byinstinct. This instinct Aquinas calls natural judgment as contrasted with thefree judgment of the physician. The sheep does not deliberate or retain thepower of being inclined to various things. By natural judgment or instinct, itnecessarily flees. Its action is confined to one thing because, its appetite be-ing sensitive and not rational, the sheep does not have universal good as theobject of its appetite. It is not like the case of the physician, who, having a ra-tional appetite for universal good, retains the power of being inclined to var-ious means to his end and hence retains the power of deliberation.

Aquinas makes this connection between the will and the intellect on thepoint of freedom.142 Human beings are free because they are rational. Theyare free because the object of the will is good as apprehended by intellect andthe latter is always universal and not particular. By contrast, brute animals areunfree just because, lacking reason, the object of their sense cognition, andhence of their appetite, is always confined to some one particular good. Thus,

. . . It must be born in mind that the appetitive power is in all things proportionalto the apprehensive power, whereby it is moved as the movable by its mover.For the sensitive appetite seeks a particular good, while the will seeks the uni-versal good, as was said above; just as the sense apprehends particulars whilethe intellect apprehends universals.143

This necessity of reason for freedom is brought out by the following sum-mary of Aquinas’s argument:

1. The object of the will is good as apprehended by the intellect.2. But good as apprehended by intellect is universal good. For in all things,

what intellect apprehends is universal and not particular.3. Therefore, the object of the will is universal good and not good as con-

fined to this or that particular good.4. So the will of a rational being is not determined by nature to anything ex-

cept good as common to all things.5. That being the case, it is possible that the will is inclined to any particular

thing that is presented to it under the aspect of being good. No one partic-ular good, as it were, attracts it to the exclusion of others and that explainsthe possibility of deliberation.

6. Therefore, all rational beings, just to the extent that they are rational, havefree will resulting from the judgment of intellect.

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To return to the example of the physician, it might seem that the tables areturned once she judges that a certain action is the best means to the end. Atthat point, when rational deliberation or comparison ceases, some mightclaim that the choice of that means is no longer free. She must choose whatnow seems to her to be the best means to the end. Thus, through willing theend, health, our physician in different respects both has and does not have thepower of free choice. She has that power just because she deliberates aboutand compares various means. This implies that those means are limited, par-ticular goods and hence that her will is not determined by any one of them.But she lacks that power, it will be urged, just so soon as, following deliber-ation and comparison, she judges that one of those means is the best meansto the end in question.

But even here, after the intellect presents the will with what it judges to bethe best means to the end, Aquinas holds that the will can refrain from choos-ing that means. This might seem to be counterintuitive. But Aquinas’s pointis that though the will at that point cannot choose another means, it can re-frain from choosing any means at all. For recall that his view is that if some-thing is means and not end, then it is a mix of good and non-good. It is onlyparticipatively good because it is only participatively end. Only what is endbut in no sense means is non-participatively good or good per se. But so longas something is a mix of good and non-good, end and non-end, the intellectcan consider it under the aspect of non-good or non-end. And then the will isnot compelled to choose it.

In any case, choice always follows upon deliberation through willing anend. That is why choice stands in the position of conclusion and end in theposition of principle. But as conclusion in a practical syllogism, choice doesnot follow directly from the end. In between, connecting the two, is rationaldeliberation, functioning in the position of mediator. In terms of the exampleof the physician, the rule or principle is the statement of his end, i.e. “Physi-cians as physicians aim at health as their end.” The case or minor premise is,“This physician, following deliberation, judges that doing x is the best meansto health in his patient.” And the result or conclusion is, “This physicianought to choose to do x.”

Still, the paradox is that since x is a means to an end and not the end, thephysician need not choose it. Going by the judgement of her intellect that xis the best means to the end, she can choose to do x. But since x is means andnot end, x is not good alone but a mix of good and non-good. But if so, thenit is always possible that the intellect focuses on what in x is non-good. Andif it does, inclination of the will toward x need not follow.

The paradox, then, is that the will is made both free and unfree by reason,though in different ways. Reason signifies in different respects both freedom

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and determinism. The will is free in the process of deliberating and this (asopposed to the instinctive behavior of sheep) is a rational act. This is free asopposed to natural judgement. The will is also free with respect to the resultof that process. For the result of deliberating is the judgment of reason thatsomething is the best means to the end. But what the intellect sees as beingthe best means is still means and not end. Just because of that is it non-goodas well as being good. That is why it fails to compel the will. But the will isunfree with respect to something when reason sees it only as end and not pos-sibly as means. And this Aquinas identifies with the final good or happiness.

But the parallel between knowing and willing goes even further. Strictlyspeaking it is not conclusions that are understood by the intellect. Instead, itis principles that are understood and conclusions that are reasoned to. In thesame way, strictly speaking, it is not means that are willed by the will. In-stead, it is the end that is willed and the means that are chosen. Means arechosen and not willed just as conclusions are reasoned to and not understood.Thus, understanding is to reasoning what willing is to choosing.144 Moreover,the end of understanding, a principle, is to the end of reasoning, a true con-clusion, as the end of willing, itself some end, is to the end of choosing, somemeans. And since the end of a thing is its good, this same analogy can be putthis way: as a principle is the good of understanding and a true conclusion thegood of reasoning on the side of intellect, so too some end is the good of will-ing and some means the good of choosing on the side of will.145

Finally, just as conclusions are said to be understood only because the princi-ples in them are understood, so too, means are said to be willed only because theend to which they are directed is willed. We assent to a conclusion only becausewe assent to a principle. Similarly, we desire the means only because we desirethe end.146 And since good has the nature of an end, it follows further that meansare said to be good only because the end to which they are directed is good.147

In any case, the end is first in practical matters just as principles are first inspeculative matters. A person’s intellect necessarily has being as its object andhence necessarily clings to those speculative principles that follow on beingjust as being. The latter include the principles of contradiction and identity.Similarly, the will of a person as person necessarily has the final end or goodas its object and therefore clings of necessity to those practical principles thatfollow on the notion of good just as good. In neither case can intellect or willdo otherwise. Finally, as between understanding and reasoning on the side ofcognition and willing and choosing on the side of volition there is a furtherparallelism. The first member of each pair is superior to the second. As onereasons only because one understands first principles from which all reason-ing proceeds, so too one chooses only because one wills an end to which allchoice is directed as means.148

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With Aristotle, Aquinas identifies the final end of persons as persons withhappiness. Happiness alone is both desired for its own sake and not possiblyfor the sake of something else. Since that is so and since good has the natureof an end, it follows that happiness is the highest good. All other things arewanted either for the sake of something else only or else both for their ownsake and for the sake of something else. The former are pure instrumentalgoods and the latter are mixed instrumental goods. Since we want hammersonly for the sake of pounding something, they are purely instrumental goods.But health we want as an end in itself. Yet it is something that we can alsowant for the sake of happiness. So health is a mixed instrumental good.

That there must be things that are desired for themselves is shown by thelogic of ends. If S desires A for the sake of B and desires B for the sake of Cand desires C for the sake of D and so on without end, then at no point doesS’s desire have an object. For the only reason that things that are desired forthe sake of something else are desired in the first place is that they are meansto something that is desired for itself. So if nothing is desired for itself noth-ing is desired at all and desire has no object. But since all desire has an ob-ject, desire is then impossible if nothing is desired for itself. But desire evi-dently exists and has an object. Therefore, in any chain of desire, there issomething that is desired for its own sake and not for the sake of another.

Thus, S diets for the sake of losing weight and looses weight for the sakeof lowering blood pressure and lowers blood pressure for the sake of avoid-ing cardio-vascular problems and avoids cardio-vascular problems for thesake of extending life. If extending life is not the final end in this chain andif there is no other final end in the chain, then S desires nothing. For the ob-ject of S’s desire at any level in the chain is supplied and explained only byS’s desiring a final end, such as, in this case, the extension of life. If S doesnot desire to extend his life and does not desire this for its own sake, then Sdoes not desire to diet or lose weight or lower blood pressure or avoid cardio-vascular problems.

This argument at best shows that pure instrumental goods imply a mixed in-strumental good. It does not show that pure instrumental goods imply an ab-solute or highest good. Thus, in the example given, extension of life is finalend in the chain in question but it is not an absolute final end. For it is alwayspossible that extension of life is desired for the sake of something else. Nev-ertheless, that there is in fact a highest good and that the latter is identified withhappiness is shown by the fact that human beings want other things for happi-ness but do not and cannot want happiness for the sake of other things. Butnothing else satisfies this description. We can want health, wealth, security,friendship, fame, honor, power, justice, knowledge, etc., for the sake of happi-ness but not vice versa. Therefore, happiness alone is the highest or final good.

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But though happiness is necessarily willed by all of us, we do not wanteverything of necessity. And here again Aquinas compares willing with know-ing. In intelligible matters some contingent propositions have no necessaryconnection with first principles. This is shown by the fact that the denial ofthem does not imply the denial of the first principles. To these contingentpropositions, therefore, the intellect does not assent of necessity. But otherpropositions do have a necessary connection with first principles. They cannotbe denied without denying those principles. And to these necessary proposi-tions, the intellect necessarily adheres only when it sees that they strictly fol-low from first principles.

As it is with intellect so again is it with will. Certain goods have no neces-sary connection with happiness. For happiness is achieved without them.Since shunning them and willing happiness is not contradictory, they are con-tingent and not necessary goods. But other things are necessarily connectedwith happiness. These are the things by means of which a person attains thefinal end of seeing God. (Here Aquinas evidently has virtuous action inmind). For it is in this Beatific Vision, says Aquinas, that true happiness con-sists. And it goes without saying that these are necessary and not contingentgoods. Even so, until the intellect sees the necessary connection betweenthese goods and seeing God, the will does not adhere of necessity to thesegoods. And so far as Aquinas is concerned, this necessary connection is notseen until one actually sees God in the Beatific Vision. It follows that the willdoes not in this life adhere of necessity either to God or to the things that areof God. And this is quite compatible with saying that the will always and nec-essarily adheres to happiness. A person might adhere of necessity to a firstprinciple and fail to adhere to what follows from that principle because shefails to see the strict connection between the principle and the conclusion. Justso, a person might adhere of necessity to happiness and fail to choose the nec-essary means to that end because she fails to see the strict connection betweenthe end and the means. The crucial difference is that in the second case thatconnection is never seen by us in this life since God is never seen in this life.Therefore, though in this life the will is necessitated to will happiness as fi-nal end, it is not here necessitated to will God as final end. For intellect mightmiss seeing that happiness consists in attaining the vision of God. Not justthat, but even if the intellect does make that identification, the will need notchoose the necessary means to achieving that end. For it is compelled tochoose those means only if intellect sees the necessary connection of meansand end. And this it does not see until the end in question is actually achievedand the Beatific Vision is realized.149 By contrast, beatified angels and saints,says Aquinas, who see God in heaven, cannot turn away from God and thethings that are of God.

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From this it might be thought that our freedom on earth is more perfect thanthat of the angels in heaven. For in this life we can choose either good or evilwhile angels, who see God directly, can only choose good. For, seeing Goddirectly, they are unable to make choices that are inconsistent with that vision.Aquinas answers by once again comparing reasoning and choosing.150 Draw-ing conclusions from or according to principles is due to the perfection of theintellect. But drawing a conclusion in violation of the order of principlescomes from a defect in the intellect. By the same token, being able to choosevarious means under the end is due to the perfection of the will’s liberty. Butelecting anything that conflicts with the end comes from a defect of the lib-erty of choice. For example, it belongs to the perfection of the liberty of hisfree choice that a physician is able to choose various means to the end of thehealth of his patient. But the physician’s electing to do what is inconsistentwith that end comes from a defect in that liberty. Therefore, that we can inthis life choose either good or evil while beatified angels can only choosegood does not imply that our liberty is greater than the liberty of angels. Whatfollows is just the converse. The liberty of angels is greater than ours.151

QUESTIONS SIX AND SEVEN

We come finally to questions 6) and 7) above. As for 6), even though the willis free in its choices, it is determined in its volition of its first end by an ex-terior principle. For this Aquinas argues in Summa theologica I-II, q9 a4. Itmight be summarized as follows. Suppose a physician S wills as an end E thehealth of a patient R and then deliberates about the means to E. Since S doesnot always will E but begins to do so, there must be some exterior efficientcause of the exercise of S’s act of willing.

Now it cannot be argued that S moves herself to will the health of Rthrough willing some further end, E-1. For for one thing, S wills E here asphysician and E (health) is the final end of a physician acting as physician.But if S wills E here only through willing some further end E-1, then E wouldnot be S’s final end as physician after all. Instead, E would be but a means toanother end, i.e. E-1. For another, even supposing that S moves herself to willE as means through willing some more remote end E-1, it is clear that S doesnot always will E-1. Some further efficient cause is then required to move Sfrom potentially willing E-1 to actually willing E-1. And if S moves herselfto will E-1 as means through willing some still more remote end, E-2, thenthere must be a further exterior cause of her willing E-2, and so on, ad infini-tum. The only way to skirt the regress is to affirm that S’s will does not al-ways move itself but that it advances to its first movement by dint of being

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moved by some exterior mover or efficient cause. In sum, there must besomething that is willed as an end and not as a means since anything that iswilled as a means is willed under an end. The latter is the will’s first move-ment in the means-end chain. But since what is willed in this movement is notalways willed, it follows that the will adheres to this first movement throughthe agency of an exterior cause. And just to that extent is the will determinedand not free in that first movement.

Finally, as for 7), in Summa theologica I-II q9 a6 Aquinas identifies the ex-terior efficient cause of this first movement of the will with God. The argu-ment divides into two parts. The first shows that only the cause of the will isthe cause of the will’s voluntary movement. And the second shows that onlyGod is the cause of the will. I summarize the arguments in reverse order.

The will is by definition the inclination to universal good. Nothing, though,that is only participatively good can cause an inclination to universal good. (Byanalogy, since primary matter is the potentiality to all forms, no mere participa-tive form can cause primary matter). It follows that nothing that is only partici-patively good can cause the will. Therefore, the will is caused as to its efficientcause by universal good or by goodness itself. But since the latter is identifiedwith God, it follows that the will is only caused by God as exterior principle.

Now all movement of a power is movement from within. Thus, seeing,which is the movement of the power of sight, is from within and not fromwithout the agent. But all movement from within a thing is caused by thecause of that thing. Thus, while I might be the cause of the upward, violentmovement of a stone, the movement of the stone that comes from within i.e.its downward, natural (as opposed to violent) movement is not caused by mebut by the cause of the stone. Therefore, the movement of a power is causedby the cause of that power. But voluntary movement is the movement of apower, i.e. the will. Therefore, voluntary movement is caused by the cause ofthe will. But it was just shown that God is the cause of the will. Therefore,God is the cause of the voluntary movement of the will.

NOTES

1. Aquinas, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation, trans. J.F. Anderson, (Gar-den City, NY: Doubleday, 1956) 65 [2], 199–200.

2. ———, Summa theologica, in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas(New York: The Modern Library, 1948), I q75 a1, 281–2.

3. ———, Summa theologica I q75 a1, 281–2.4. ———, Summa theologica I q78 a1–2, 321–27.5. ———, Summa theologica I q76 a3, 302–06.6. ———, Summa theologica I q76 a3, 302–06; ———, Summa contra gentiles

Book Two: Creation 58 [3], 173.

202 Chapter Five

7. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation 58 [4],173–74.; ———,Summa theologica I q76 a3, 302–06.

8. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 58[6], 174–75.9. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 58[8], 175–76.

10. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two, 58[3], 173.11. ———, Summa theologica I q76 a1, 293–96.12. ———, Summa theologica I q76 a3, 303–06.13. ———, Summa theologica I q84 a2, 381—82.14. ———, Summa theologica I q78 a3, 328–29.15. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation 50[3], 149–50.16. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation 59[13], 180.17. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation 59[5], 178.18. ———, Summa theologica I q77 a5, 319–20.19. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two:Creation 82 [12]-[13], 270. ———,

Summa Theologica I q75 a2, 284.20. ———, Summa theologica I q77 a5, 320.21. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 82[12], 270.22. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 57[3], 169.23. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 57, 168–72.24. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writings of Saint Thomas

Aquinas (New York: Random House, 1945), vol.1. I q50 a2, 482–83.25. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas

I q85 a1, 401–02. (italics mine)26. ———, Summa theologica I q77 a1, 312–13.27. ———, Summa theologica I q77, a1, 312–13.28. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two 69[5], 208.29. ———, Summa Theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writings vol.1, I q50 a5,

488–90; ———, On Being and Essence, trans by A. Maurer (Toronto: The PontificalInstitute of Medieval Studies,1949), 4, 44.

30. ———,On Being and Essence, 4, 44.31. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas,

I q77 a3, 317–18.32. ———, Summa theologica I q78 a1, 322–23.33. ———, Summa theologica I q78, a2, 325–26.34. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writings vol.1, I q77 a7,

729–30.35. ———, Summa theologica I, Q. 77, art.7, 729–30.36. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas

I q78 a1, 322–23.37. ———, Summa theologica I q78 a1, 322–23.38. ———, Summa theologica I q84 a1, 377–79.39. ———, Summa theologica I q79 a4: reply obj. 4, 335.40. ———, Summa theologica I q79 a3: reply obj.2, 342.41. ———, Commentary on the Trinity of Boethius, in J. Maritain, Philosophy of

Nature (New York: Philosophical Library, 1951) q5 a1; q5 a3, 191–92.42. ———, Commentary on the Trinity of Boethius, q5 a3.

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43. ———, Summa theologica I q79, a4, 344–45.44. ———, Summa theologica I q85 a5, 415–16.45. ———, Summa theologica I q79 a4, 344–45.46. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle translated by J.P. Rowan

(Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1961), IV. L.6: C605, 243.47. ———, Summa theologica I q82, a4, 365–66.48. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a4, 174–5.49. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth q21 a1 in J.F. Anderson, trans. Introduc-

tion to the Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas (Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1953), 77.50. ———, Summa theologica I q16, a5, 175–76.51. ———, Summa theologica I q17 a1, 183–85.52. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth in J.F. Anderson, trans. Introduction to the

Metaphysics of St. Thomas Aquinas q21 a2, 83.53. ———, Summa theologica I q82, a4, 365–66; ———, Summa theologica I q16

a4.1, 175.54. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a4.1, 175.55. ———, Commentary on the Nicomachean Ethics, trans. C. I. Litzinger (Chicago:

Henry Regnery, 1964) VI.L.III: C 1143, 553.56. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, VII. L4: C1234, 482.57. ———, Summa theologica I q16a 2, 171–72.58. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a4.1, 175.59. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, IV. L6: C605, 243.60. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a4, 365–66.61. ———, Summa theologica I q85 a1, 401–02.62. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writingss vol.2 I-II q13 a6,

284–85.63. ———, Disputed Questions on Truth in J.F. Anderson, trans. An Introduction to

the Metaphysics of St.Thomas Aquinas qI a2, 67.64. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a1, 169–70.65. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72.66. ———, Summa theologica I q16, a2, 171–72; I q82 a4, 174–75.67. ———, Summa theologica I q16, a4 reply 2, 175.68. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72.69. ———, Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, VI. L.4: C1236, 482.70. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a2, 171–72.71. ———, Summa theologica I q17 a3, 187–88.72. ———, Summa theologica I-II q57 a2, 569.73. ———Summa theologica I q2, a1, 21–2; I-II q57 a2, 569; ———, Commentary

on the Nicomachean Ethics, I.L.IV:C 52, 24; see also.Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics,1095b 1–4.

74. P.F. Strawson, “On Referring” in Essays in Conceptual Analysis, ed. A. Flew(London: Macmillan, 1963), 27–8.

75. B. Russell, The Problems of Philosophy (London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1970), 125.76. In this and succeeding paragraphs, I borrow material and arguments that orig-

inally appeared in my paper, “Subjectivity and Objectivity in Truth.” See Acta Philo-sophica II, 14, 2005, 299–312.

204 Chapter Five

77. B. Russell, The Problems of Philosophy (London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1970),124.

78. The following paragraphs use arguments which appear in my “Subjectivityand Objectivity in Truth”in Acta Philosphica II 14, 2005, 304–05.

79. W.V. Quine, Philosophy of Logic, (Englewood Cliffs, N.J: Prentice Hall,1970), 14.

80. ———, Philosophy of Logic, 14.81. ———, Philosophy of Logic, 14.82. ———, Philosophy of Logic, 11.83. Aquinas, Summa theologica I q83 a3, 373.84. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a4.1, 366.85. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a1, 361–62.86. ———, Summa theologica I q81 a2, 356–57.87. ———, Summa theologica I q81 a2, 356–57.88. ———, Summa theologica I q81 a3, 358–59.89. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a5, 505–06.90. ———, Summa theologica I q80, a2, 352–53.91. ———, Summa contra gentiles, Book Two 48[6], 146.92. See Anthony Kenny, Aquinas On Mind (London: Routledge, 1993), 62.93. Aquinas, Summa theologica I, q5 a2 reply obj.1, 37; I q5 a4, 40.94. The intellect is not moved by the will, for example, in its simple apprehen-

sion of essences.95. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a4, 375; I-II q8 a2, 496.96. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a4, 503–04.97. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a1–2, 363–64.98. See Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, book III, ch.3, 1113a 10–13.99. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a3 reply to obj. 2.

100. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a4; I q82 a1, 361–63; I-II q6 a4, 485–86.101. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a1, 368–70; ———, Summa contra gentiles

Book Two: Creation 48 [2] and [6], 144, 146.102. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a3, reply obj.3, 374; ———, Summa contra

gentiles Book Two:Creation 48 [2], 144.103. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a1and a3, 368–70; 372–73.104. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a.3, 502–03; I-II q13 a3, 515; I q83 a4,

374–75.105. See Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 1112b 13—1113a 5.106. ———, Summa theologica I-II q8 a2, 496–97; I q83 a4, 375.107. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a1, 498–99.108. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a.1, 498–99.109. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a1 reply obj.3, 500; I q16 a4 reply obj 1, 175.110. ———, Summa theologica I q16 a4, 174–75.111. From the impossibility of an infinite regress here Aquinas concludes that the

will’s first movement is from an exterior mover. See ———, Summa theologica I-II q9a4, 503–04.

112. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 1095a 13–20.113. Aquinas, Summa theologica I q 83 a3 reply obj. 2, 374.

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114. ———, Summa theologica I-II q13 a1, 514.115. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a1, 361–63.116. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a3, 373–74.117. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a1, 369–70.118. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a1; Summa contra gentiles Book II, ch.48, # 3.119. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writings vol.2 I-II q13 a6, 285.120. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas

I q82 a4, 365–66.121. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a1, 498–99.122. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a4, 365–66.123. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a2, 363–64.124. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a3, 502–03.125. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a4, 503–04.126. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a6, 507–08.127. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a1 reply 3, 500; I q82 a4, 365–67.128. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a4 reply 1, 366.129. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a4, reply 2, 367.130. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a4, reply 1, 366.131. ———, Summa theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Basic Writings vol.1 I q82 a3,

780–81.132. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a4, 374–75.133. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a3, 373–74.134. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a3, 502–03.135. ———, Summa contra gentiles, Book Two: Creation 48 [6], 146.136. ———, Summa theologica I-II q9 a3 and 4, 502–04.137. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 23 [2], 68.138. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a1, 368–69.139. ———, Summa theologica in Pegis, ed. Basic Writings, vol. 2 I-II q13 a6,

284–85.140. ———, Summa theologica I-II q13 a6, 284–85.141. ———, Summa theologica I-II q13 a6, 284–85142. ———, Summa contra gentiles Book Two: Creation 48 [6], 146.143. ———, Summa theologica in Pegis, ed. Basic Writings vol.1 I q64 a2, 604.144. ———, Summa theologica in Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas, I

q83 a4, 374–75.145. ———, Summa theologica I-II q8 a2, 496–97; I q83 a4, 374–75.146. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a4, 374–75.147. ———, Summa theologica I-II q8 a2, 496–97.148. ———, Summa theologica I q83 a4, 374–75.149. ———, Summa theologica I q82 a2, 363–64.150. ———, Summa theologica in Pegis, ed, Basic Writings vol. 1 I q62, a8, reply

3, 582.151. ———, Summa theologica I q62 a 8, reply 3, 582.

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207

IN DEFENSE OF ETHICS

Since value and moral relativism and subjectivism are prevalent views aboutconcepts like value, right, wrong, good, bad, evil, etc., any discussion ofAquinas’s ethics must be prefaced by a defense of value and moral absolutismand value and moral objectivism. Like Plato and Aristotle, Aquinas holds thatthere is objective good and evil in the world independently of what personsthink is good and evil and that some actions of persons are objectively speak-ing right and wrong independently of whether persons think they are right orwrong. Following Aristotle, Aquinas distinguishes the theoretical from thepractical sciences. The object of the former is knowledge for its own sakewhile the object of the latter is knowledge for the sake of doing or making. Inthe light of this distinction, almost the first question in ethics is whether it isa theoretical or a practical science. But it is not the very first question. Thelatter is whether ethics is a science at all. ‘Science’ comes form the Latinword ‘scio’ which means to know. In its root and basic meaning, therefore, ascience is a body of knowledge using first principles. But since knowledgeentails truth, it follows that if ethics is the science of values, then ethics con-tains a number of objectively true value statements to the effect that such andsuch things are good or bad and that such and such actions are right or wrong.

However, ethical relativists deny that such statements are objectively trueof false. If they are right about this then ethics is not a science. And then thequestion of whether ethics is a theoretical or a practical science is moot. Un-less there is such a thing as right action apart from what persons believe isright action, the question of what constitutes objectively right action is point-less. And unless there is such a thing as good apart from what persons believe

Chapter Six

Ethics

is good, the question as to what constitutes objective good is also pointless.And it is the view of moral relativism that saying that an action is right is thesame as saying that some person or persons believe that the action is right andit is the view of value relativism that saying that something or other is goodis the same as saying that some person or persons believe that it is good.

Several stock objections to moral and value relativism defeat those views.First, there is Moore’s objection that both views deprive belief of an object.1

If “A is right” means “S believes that A is right,” then, since “A is right” ap-pears in the definiens, it follows that the definiens reads, “S believes S be-lieves that A is right.” But since “A is right” once again appears in the latter,then the latter is rendered, “S believes that S believes that S believes that A isright.” Still again, since “A is right” appears in this third phrase, then thisthird phrase becomes in turn, “S believes that S believes that S believes thatS believes that A is right,” and so on ad infinitum. Since the result of this isthat the object of belief is forever postponed and belief must have an object,it follows that A is right” is not defined as “S believes that A is right” andmoral relativism is wrong. And since it is evident that the same criticism ap-plies, mutatis mutandis, to defining “X is good” as “S believes that X isgood,” it follows that value relativism is also wrong.

A second objection to moral and value relativism invokes the celebrated“open-question” test. If “A is right” means “S believes that A is right” then itis not an open question to ask if an action is right when some person or per-sons believe it is right. But that is an open question. Therefore “A is right” isnot defined as “S believes that A is right.” And the same objection applies,mutatis mutandis to defining “X is good” as “S believes that X is good.”

A third objection is that moral and value relativism imply that, just so longas it is believed to be right or good, respectively, any action or thing is just asright or good as is any other action or thing. If “A is right” means “S believesthat A is right” then just in case someone believes that murdering the sick isright and someone else believes that helping the sick live is right, it cannot besaid that, morally speaking, there is anything to choose between murderingthe sick and helping them live. And if “X is good” means “S believes that Xis good,” then just in case someone believes equality under the law is goodand someone else believes inequality under the law is good, it cannot be saidthat, value-wise, there is anything to choose between equality under the lawand inequality under the law. But since neither one of these consequences canbe countenanced, it follows that both moral and value relativism are false.

As for value and moral subjectivism, it seems that these positions stand orfall with value and moral relativism. If it is shown that value and moral sub-jectivism imply value and moral relativism, respectively, then since the for-mer are false so are the latter. It also works the other way around. If it is in-

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dependently shown that both value and moral subjectivism are false and theseviews imply value and moral relativism, respectively, then value and moralrelativism are also false.

To show that it does work both ways, consider the definitions of value andmoral subjectivism. A person S is a value subjectivist just when S believesthat saying “X is good” is true means nothing but X is desired by some per-son or persons. And a person S is a moral subjectivist just when S believesthat saying “A is right” is true means nothing but A is approved of by someperson or persons. So value subjectivism (hereafter, VS), is the view that “Xis good” means “X is desired by some person or persons” and moral subjec-tivism (hereafter, MS) is the view that “A is right” is true means “A is ap-proved of by some person or persons.”

It can now be argued that, as defined, value and moral subjectivism bothimply and are implied by value and moral relativism (hereafter, VR and MR),respectively. For suppose that it is true that X is desired by some person orpersons if and only if that person or persons believe “X is good.” Call this G.G and VS imply that “X is good” is true if and only if some person or personsbelieves “X is good” is true (VR). In other words, VS and G imply VR. Butif it is admitted that VR is unacceptable, then, if G is true, it follows that VSis also unacceptable. A false conclusion in any valid argument means that atleast one of its premises is false. Moreover, assuming MS and assuming, (A),A is approved of by some person or persons if and only if that person or per-sons believe “A is right” is true, it follows that “A is right” is true if and onlyif some person or persons believe “A is right” is true (MR). In other words,MS and (A) imply MR. But if it is once admitted that MR is unacceptable,then, if (A) is true, it follows that MS is also unacceptable.

And as was said, it also works the other way around. VR and G imply VSand MR and (A) imply MS. But it is important to note here that it does notfollow that VS is false just because VR is, assuming G is true. For in any validargument a false premise does not imply a false conclusion. And by this samerule, it does not follow that MS is false just because MR is, assuming (A) istrue. None the less, as before, if independently of the truth-value of either VRor MR it is shown that that VS and MS are false, then it is also shown thatVR and MR, respectively, are also false. In any case, given the validity of theforegoing four arguments, if either VR or MR are true (false) while G and (A)are true, then VS and RS, respectively, are also true (false). And if either VSor MS are true (false) while G and (A) are true, then VR and MR, respec-tively, are also true (false).

Thus, relativism and subjectivism in ethics are equivalent if not identicalviews. If the one is true the other is true and vice versa and if the one is falsethe other is false and vice versa. But since, previously, it was shown that both

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value and moral relativism are false, it follows that both value and moral sub-jectivism are also false.

Moreover, both value and moral subjectivism can be shown to be false in-dependently of the fact that they are implied by what is false, namely, valueand moral relativism, respectively. The arguments against them parallel thearguments that we previously saw defeat value and moral relativism. First, if“X is good” means some person or persons desire X, then just in case someperson or persons desire lawlessness and disorder while some other person orpersons desire law and order it cannot be said that, value-wise, there is any-thing to choose between these two states. And on the side of moral subjec-tivism, if “A is right” means some person or persons approve of A, then justin case some person or persons approve of murdering the homeless and an-other person or persons approve of helping them, it cannot be said that,morally speaking, there is anything to choose between the two actions. But asthis is intolerable, it follows that value and moral subjectivism are wrong.

Second, if “X is good” means some person or persons desire X, then it isnever an open question to ask if lawlessness and disorder are good after it isshown that some person or persons desire them. But this is an open question.And on the side of moral subjectivism, if “A is right” means some person orpersons approve of A, then it is never an open question to ask if murderingthe homeless is right after it is discovered that some person or persons ap-prove of it. But once again, this is an open question. Therefore, both value andmoral subjectivism are untenable.

Third, if “A is right” means “some person or persons approve of A” then,counterintuitively, when a person S says A is right and another person R saysA is wrong, S and R are not having a moral disagreement.2 For all S means isthat some person or persons approve of A and all R means is that some per-son or persons disapprove of A. But these latter two statements either refer tothe very same person or persons or they do not. If they do, then S and R arehaving a factual and not a moral disagreement. They disagree only aboutwhether the same person or persons approve of A or not. But if they do notrefer to the same person or persons, then S and R are having neither a factualnor a moral disagreement. Since in either case the possibility of moral dis-agreement is eliminated and persons do at times have moral disagreements, itfollows that “A is right” does not mean “some person or persons approve ofA” and moral subjectivism is wrong.

A celebrated second type of moral subjectivism is emotivism. It is the childof logical positivism. According to logical positivists, since ethical questionslike “Is x right?” cannot be answered by empirical means they are not evengenuine questions to begin with. They are pseudo-questions masquerading asreal questions. In the view of the positivist, even the question, “Is moral rel-

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ativism true or is moral absolutism true?” is a question which is in principleunanswerable since it is not a question that can be settled by direct or indirectappeal to sense perception. But a question that is in principle unanswerable isa senseless question and hence is one which ought not to be raised in the firstplace. But if a question is nonsensical then any attempted answer to that ques-tion in the form of a statement is also nonsensical. So if a person states that xis right or that there are objective moral values or that there are objectivemoral obligations, that person, the positivist would say, makes statementswhich, because they are empirically unverifiable, are neither true nor false.Instead they are cognitively meaningless. If the positivists are right about thisthen there is no such thing as a science of ethics. For as was said, it is a con-dition of any body of knowledge whatever that the statements that belong tothat body of knowledge are or can be objectively true.

But are positivists right in saying that, outside of tautological statements, theonly cognitively meaningful statements are those which are empirically veri-fiable or falsifiable? A hint that this criterion of meaningfulness is too narrowshould have occurred to positivists when they saw the consequences of theircriterion both for philosophy as a whole and for ethics in particular. As regardsthe former, if non-tautological statements are meaningful only if they are em-pirically verifiable, then every philosophical question turns out to be mean-ingless. The result is that philosophy is eliminated. Age-old philosophicalquestions like, “Does God exist?”, “Does man have free will?” “Are mindsdistinct from bodies?”, etc. are no longer legitimately asked just because theway we go about answering these questions is by what philosophers call rea-son as opposed to experience and experimentation. As regards the latter, state-ments containing moral predicates such as “Genocide is wrong” become non-sensical just because the wrongness of genocide is empirically unverifiable. Ifthe strangeness of these consequences is not enough to trigger in the posi-tivist’s mind some suspicion that his definition of meaningfulness is too nar-row, his own identification of moral judgments like “Genocide is wrong” withan emotive outburst of the order, “Down with genocide”! should have beenenough to arouse that suspicion. For the obvious effect of this reduction of eth-ical discourse to the mere venting of emotion is that it deprives the expressedemotion of any point. If the grammatical predicates “right” and “wrong” neversignify any objective property which is being predicated of a subject it followsthat there is nothing objectively wrong with, say, the Nazi holocaust. Wrong-ness comes in (to the extent that it comes in at all) only when someone expresses a negative emotion toward the holocaust. But then, how can the ex-pression of that emotion have any point? Why, instead of expressing a nega-tive emotion toward the holocaust, would it not be equally fitting and properto express a positive emotion toward it? The answer of common sense here is

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that the negative emotion is fitting and the positive emotion is unfitting be-cause the holocaust was wrong. But as the positivist holds that it can never betrue and in fact is always senseless to say this, he cannot avail himself of thatanswer. But in that case is he not forced to say that the expression of any oneemotion is as fitting and appropriate as the expression of any other emotion inthe face of the holocaust or for that matter any action at all? But in that casethe notion of the fittingness of an emotion loses all point.3 So unless we careto abandon our belief that the expression of some emotions in some situationsis fitting while the expression of other emotions in those same situations is un-fitting, the positivist’s criterion of cognitive meaningfulness is too narrow. Butthen, the positivist’s particular threat to ethics as a science or body of knowl-edge is eliminated.

But trouble for positivists runs deeper. For not only does it appear that theircriterion of meaning is too narrow but it seems to be self-refuting as well.Critics of logical positivism have been quick to point out to the positivist thatif it is true that all meaningful non-tautological statements are empiricallyverifiable then that very statement, “All meaningful non-tautological state-ments are empirically verifiable” is meaningless because it is unverifiable.Thus, the positivist’s very own criterion of meaningfulness cannot itself bemeaningfully stated. To escape this, positivists sometimes fall back on Rus-sell’s celebrated theory of types. According to that theory, a predicate on anylevel L can be meaningfully applied only to a subject on level L-1. For ex-ample, it makes sense on this theory to say “Smith is a man” or “Man is ananimal” or “An animal is an organism,” but it is neither true nor false butrather nonsensical to say, “Smith is an animal” or “Man is an organism.” Fur-ther, the theory holds that not only predicates but also whole statements aremeaningful only if they refer to things on the level just below them. In thatcase, no statement refers to itself. But if so, then it is meaningless to ask thequestion, “Is the statement ‘All meaningful non-tautological statements areempirically verifiable’ itself empirically verifiable?” For to ask this questionis to assume, falsely, that the statement in question can sensibly refer to itselfand not just to statements on the level below it. And so, positivists would re-ply, if Russell’s theory of types is correct, then it is a mistake of a logical kind,a kind of category mistake, even to ask whether their stated criterion of mean-ingfulness applies to itself or not. For no statement at all applies to itself.

But quite apart from whether the kinds of problems and paradoxes whichRussell used his theory of types to solve can be solved in some other way in-stead, can positivists consistently invoke the theory of types to escape thecharge that, by their own criterion of meaningful statements, their statementof that criterion is meaningless? For to fall back on the theory of types in or-der to answer this objection positivists must accept the consequence of that

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theory, namely, that no statement refers to itself. Otherwise they cannot usethe theory to escape the charge that their principle that only empirically veri-fiable non-analytic statements are meaningful is itself meaningless since it isneither analytic nor empirically verifiable. But if the statement, “No state-ment refers to itself” is true, then that very statement, i.e. “No statement refersto itself” is one that does not refer to itself. But then that statement is an ex-ception to the rule that no statement refers to itself and so is a statement thatdoes refer to itself. Therefore, positivists cannot consistently fall back on thetheory of types to escape the objection that their own criterion of a meaning-ful statement is by that same criterion made meaningless. For to do so theymust adopt the rule that no statement refers to itself and if this is true then itis false. In other words, recourse to the theory of types to answer the objec-tion in question only serves to resurrect the very same problem that that the-ory was designed to solve in the first place.

But to return to moral relativism, the main argument that has always beenoffered in its behalf is the widespread disagreement among whole societiesand individuals of the same society on any given moral issue. Americans aregenerally outraged by bribery among public officials but many non-Ameri-cans are almost indifferent to it. Polygamy is considered a vice in some soci-eties but a virtue in others. Capital punishment is considered right by manyAmericans but wrong by many other Americans. If, therefore, both individu-als and whole societies differ on what they judge to be right or wrong, goodor bad, valuable or valueless, does it not follow that there is nothing reallyright or wrong, good or bad, valuable or valueless in and of itself or objec-tively speaking? In other words, is it not the case that sociological relativismor the datum that different societies as a matter of fact disagree in their moralbeliefs, implies ethical relativism or the view that no moral judgments are ob-jectively true? Succinctly,

No ethical judgments are universally agreed on.Therefore, no ethical judgments are objectively true.

Before answering this question, caution must be exercised from the start asregards this issue between ethical relativism and ethical absolutism. For whatsometimes appears to be ethical disagreement among either whole societies orindividuals in the same society is on closer look not disagreement on funda-mental ethical principles at all It is only disagreement about how those princi-ples are best realized. For example, two societies, A and B, may disagree onthe question of whether abortion is right or wrong but agree that only thoseacts are right which tend to promote the most amount of good for the societyas a whole. It is just that in society A it is believed that abortion on demand

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does promote the most good for the society whereas in society B it is believedthat abortion does not. To the extent that the members of these societies be-lieve that there is even one over-all objectively true ethical principle, they arenot ethical relativists at all but ethical absolutists. In other words, an ethicalrelativist is defined as one who denies that there are any objectively true moraljudgments or values, either judgments as to the rightness or wrongness of spe-cific actions such as abortion, capital punishment, mercy-killing, etc., or judg-ments which express general moral principles such as “All and only those actsare right which promote the general happiness.”

But to return to the question, does the fact of universal disagreement on ei-ther the level of specific moral issues or on the level of general moral princi-ples imply that there are no objectively true moral judgments on either one ofthese two levels? Does it follow from the fact that no ethical judgments areuniversally agreed on that no ethical judgments are objectively true? The an-swer is that it follows only if it is assumed that only what everyone agrees tois objectively true. But this assumption no one can believe. Otherwise, just incase it was universally agreed in 500 B.C. that the Earth was flat then it wasobjectively true in 500 B.C. that the Earth was flat. Besides, resting the casefor ethical relativism on the fact of moral disagreement forces the ethical rel-ativist to abandon the very moral relativism which he espouses. For if the suc-cess of the argument from disagreement trades on the premise that only whateveryone agrees to is objectively true, then the relativist is forced to deny thateven ethical relativism is objectively true. For it is evident that ethical rela-tivism is not universally agreed on. The argument from disagreement thuscuts both ways. Just to the extent that he invokes that argument to show thatethical judgments are not objectively true, the moral relativist also shows thathis own position of moral relativism is not objectively true.

Moreover, so far from showing that ethical relativism is true, the fact ofmoral dispute among individuals and whole societies, even on the level of ba-sic moral principles, presupposes the truth of the very opposite position frommoral relativism, namely, moral absolutism. This is a point which is not oftenappreciated but which, on reflection, becomes clear. If in morals there is nosuch thing as right or wrong objectively speaking but only right to me orwrong to me or right to us or wrong to us ( just as in the matter of taste thereis indisputably no such thing as something which tastes good period but onlysomething which tastes good to me)—then the very concept of a moral disputeis as pointless as a dispute as to whether, say, coffee tastes better than tea. Alldispute or debate on any issue whatever in which one side affirms some propo-sition P and the other side denies P presupposes both that either P or not-P isobjectively true and that the parties to the debate believe that one of these twopropositions is objectively true. Otherwise, every dispute ends up like the “dis-

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pute” as to whether coffee really tastes better than tea. Therefore, some reasonother than that of widespread disagreement on ethical issues must be used bythe relativist to make his case. But what could this other reason possibly be?

To answer this question, some unreflective relativists shift the ground oftheir argument from the fact of disagreement on moral issues to the truth ofdemocracy. No person, they say, has the right to impose his moral opinionson others. Typically, their argument takes the form of the question, “Who isto say what is right or wrong?”, the implication being that no person has theright to dictate to others what they ought to do in moral situations. The veryidea of an absolute dictator prescribing how his subjects should act boils theblood of every democrat.

The irrelevance of this argument, though, hardly needs to be pointed out.Those who support moral relativism on the basis of it assume that moral ab-solutism implies political absolutism. They assume that the fact that moralvalues and judgments are objectively true implies that some person or groupof persons has the right to impose those objective values and judgments onothers. But nothing of the sort follows and no enlightened moral absolutist be-lieves that it follows.

The question, then, may be reasserted. If the fact of moral disagreement can-not be used to establish moral relativism then why should anyone hold thatsuch a relativism is true? True, there may be non-rational reasons why it is heldto be true. A person may convince himself of the truth of relativism in ethicsonly in order to justify his own wrongful acts or in order to please or curry thefavor of some other person or group of persons. But these are not rational orlogical reasons for becoming a relativist in the sense that they can be offeredas evidence for a defense of relativism in ethics. How, then, does the relativistrationally support the claim that there is no objective truth in ethics?

The answer to this question seems to be that there just is no rational or log-ical defense of ethical relativism. And this despite the fact that many individ-uals believe that this relativism is true. There is no more general truth fromwhich ethical relativism follows and it is not an empirical generalization.Some relativists in ethics say that they refuse to be “hemmed in” by the rulesof society and that they want to be free of all fetters in order to express them-selves fully and creatively. And somehow or other this is supposed to implythat there is no objective moral order. But this is not only a startling non-se-quitur but it is also a remarkable concession to the view which relativists os-tensibly oppose. For the possibility of full and creative expression of self ishere elevated by the relativist to the status of objective value.

But even if subjectivism and relativism in ethics are refuted, it does not fol-low that ethics is established as a science. For with the moral skeptic, it is pos-sible to affirm the objective truth of moral statements but deny that these

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truths are known. And since a science is a body of knowledge, there is no sci-ence of ethics if there is no knowledge of ethical truths. As much as meetingthe challenge of relativism and subjectivism, therefore, answering the moralskeptic is also a condition of showing that ethics is a science.

Because moral skeptics are limited as opposed to absolute skeptics, theirview is not susceptible of the difficulties of the latter. Absolute skeptics whohold that no true statement is known must hold that this statement is etherknown or believed by them. If the former, their view is evidently self-contra-dictory. If the latter, their view is either self-contradictory or implies an infi-nite regress. If they claim that their view that no true statement is known is be-lieved but not known by them, then they assume that they either believe orknow they are believing and not knowing the statement in question. If the lat-ter, they admit to knowledge after all. But if their assumption is that they arebelieving and not knowing that they are believing and not knowing that theyare believing and not knowing the statement in question, then once again theyassume that either they believe that they are believing and not knowing thatthey are believing and not knowing the statement in question or that they knowthis. And to avoid knowledge once again, they must choose the former as-sumption. But if their assumption is that they are believing and not knowingthat they are believing and not knowing that they are believing and not know-ing that they are believing and not knowing the statement in question, thenonce again they assume that either they believe this or know this. And so it isclear that somewhere along the line they either admit knowledge and hencecontradict themselves or else invite an infinite regress of acts of believing.

But for their part, moral skeptics hold not that no truth is known but thatno ethical truth is known. And this limited skepticism saves them from theforgoing dilemma. But this only exchanges one dilemma for another. To beconsistent with their own view, moral skeptics must hold that even generalethical principles such as “One ought to do good and avoid evil” are un-known. But it is difficult to see how it is practically consistent to hold that thisis not known but that non-ethical principles such as “All events are caused”are known. To avoid being arbitrary, it seems that moral skeptics must dis-claim knowledge of the latter if they disclaim knowledge of the former. Butif they do, then moral skeptics are more than just moral skeptics. They areskeptics about natural principles as well. Their moral skepticism is thus a slip-pery slope. Succinctly, moral skeptics are caught in this dilemma: either theyhold that ethical principles are known and other ethical truths are unknown orelse they hold that no ethical statements at all are known. If the former, thenmoral skeptics are arbitrary in their treatment of ethical truths. For why saythat some ethical truths are known while others are not? But if the latter, thenthey exchange arbitrariness in their treatment of ethical statements for arbi-

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trariness in their treatment of ethical principles vis-à-vis natural principles.With the acceptance of moral skepticism they are practically forced to acceptskepticism about natural principles too. And then they abandon the possibil-ity of knowing anything for sure about the world.

This consequence, of course, moral skeptics might countenance. But to theextent that they do, they at least claim to know that neither ethical nor natu-ral principles are known by us. But then it becomes difficult to see how, onceagain, they avoid arbitrariness in affirming the truth of this general, episte-mological proposition while espousing skepticism about general ethical andnatural principles. To put to rest all such objections of arbitrariness, moralskeptics might end with denying that any principles at all are known for sureby us, be they ethical, natural, epistemological or otherwise. But even thatwill not save them from the objection of arbitrariness. For then our skeptic atleast claims to know that that statement is true. But then it is arbitrary, if notoutright contradictory, to accept that statement while all the while denyingthat any principles at all are known for sure by us.

Granted, therefore, that there is such a thing as objective good and bad andobjectively speaking right and wrong actions, the crucial question is, in whatdo they consist? To this very many answers have been proffered in the longhistory of philosophy, but here in this final chapter I consider only the answerof Aquinas. To do so I recur to the idea of natural purpose, contrasting it withthe mere pragmatic purpose of recent philosophy.

PRAGMATIC VERSUS NATURAL PURPOSE

William James characterized pragmatism as a method and not as a doctrine.It is compatible with any and all metaphysics and so is not itself a meta-physics. It lies amidst our theories “like a corridor in a hotel.”4 It thus feedsmany rooms. In one room is a metaphysical idealist, in another is an atheist,in a third a theist, in a fourth a realist, in a fifth a nominalist, and so on. Yetall the guests in all these rooms may be pragmatists. It all depends on howthey determine the truth of their beliefs. James’s view is shared even today.Otherwise we would not classify both Peirce and James as pragmatists. Ifthere is a distinctly pragmatic answer to the problem of universals (as overagainst a realist and nominalist answer) it could not be said that both Peirceand James are pragmatists. For Peirce is a realist and James a nominalist.

With James as with Dewey this method of fixating the truth of beliefs is in-strumentalism. Instrumentalism in truth is the idea that to say that a proposi-tion is true is to say that belief in it helps us accomplish our goals, therebysatisfying us practically. The true is thus equated with the instrumentally

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good.5 Thus, to the extent alone that one justifies one’s belief in either athe-ism or theism in terms of the practical utility of either belief, one is a prag-matist. Similarly, pragmatists may be idealists or materialists, nominalists orrealists, monists or pluralists, and so on. If pragmatism is only a method, theinstrumental method of deciding truth, then any stance on any issue in phi-losophy is pragmatic just so long as it measures the truth of its propositionsinstrumentally. And those who know James and Dewey know that this is op-posed by them to establishing the truth intellectually, i.e. by appeal to a pri-ori absolutes or fixed first principles.6

From this instrumentalism in truth C.S. Peirce dissents. That is one reasonwhy he renames his own version of pragmatism “pragmaticism.” Peirce is nota pragmatist about truth but a pragmatist about meaning. But he does notabandon the idea that pragmatism is a method only or that the method of prag-matism is instrumentalism. It is just that with him instrumentalism applies tomeaning. The meaning of a predicate, he says, is the way you go about test-ing whether or not a subject bears that predicate. His celebrated example isthat you know the meaning of ‘hard’ when you know what sensible effectswould be produced if you were to rub a hard thing against other things.7 Thus,meaning is identified with a rule of verification expressed as a contrary-to-fact conditional. This is instrumentalism in meaning because it consists intaking means to an end. And as far back as Aristotle, means taken to an endis identified with the useful or instrumental. Meaning is fundamentally a testand the test is a means to the end of making our ideas clear. Just as in Jamesthe truth of a belief consists in its being a means to our ends, so in Peirce themeaning of a predicate consists in the means by which we show that predi-cate’s sensible effects.

Any means that satisfies us, i.e. that seems to realize our practical goals,says James, is true And the means we use to verify whether something has aproperty, says Peirce, is what is meant by that property. As we know that astatement is true when we know that it is useful to our ends to believe it, sowe know the meaning of an abstract predicate when we find a rule of verifi-cation that is useful to tracing that predicate’s sensible effects. Instrumental-ism, whether in truth or in meaning, confines purpose to human doings andmakings. Any end is necessarily our end and the means is something devisedand chosen by us.

Contemporary pragmatists have different agendas and techniques thantheir predecessors. Yet they share James’ view that pragmatism is a methodand not a doctrine. They still believe that pragmatism is more a way of doingphilosophy than a philosophy, more an approach to issues than a stance takenon issues. It is crossing categories to say that answers to the body-mind issueinclude epiphenomenalism, identity materialism and pragmatism. And the

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same goes for other issues. Pragmatism is still considered an approach to orattitude in philosophy rather than a type of philosophy.

This instrumentalism opposes the idea of natural purpose in philosopherslike Aristotle and Aquinas. The latter hold that purpose characterizes realityitself and not just how we deal or cope with either reality or appearance. Soif Aristotle and Aquinas are right, then James and his followers are wrong inthinking that purpose is confined to method. This issue about the ontologicalstatus of purpose occasions two questions. First (1), why did pragmatic pur-pose replace natural purpose? And second (2), which one is true?

As for (1), the remote cause of the change from the old to the new teleol-ogy is traced to Kant’s “Copernican revolution.” With that came skepticismabout God and divine purpose. With that too came skepticism about the worldand natural purpose. Whether or not reality in itself is characterized by pur-pose no one can say. The only kind of purpose we know about is human pur-pose, not divine or natural purpose.

More proximately, the cause of the change is traced to two things. The firstis the idea of natural selection. Under this idea, changes and features in liv-ing things which were hitherto ascribed to purpose are instead ascribed mech-anistically in terms of chance mutations. This is too familiar as to requirecomment. The second is the inclusion of human purpose in the hitherto meta-physical ideas of meaning and truth. So far from being in and issuing fromAbsolute Mind, meaning and truth are made by our minds. This anti-Hegelianism on the matter of meaning and truth is the pragmatic revolutionof Peirce, James, and Dewey. Behind it is the application of the scientificmethod into the formerly metaphysical arena of meaning and truth. WithPeirce meaning comes down to a rule of verification. If you want to know themeaning of an abstract predicate you do such and such in order to see if youget such and such sensible results. Since this requires testability and testabil-ity involves human purpose, it follows that meaning involves human purpose.With James and Dewey it is truth that comes down to verification. When lostin a wood you try what looks like an old cow path in order to see if it leadsanywhere. If it seems to do so then the hypothesis that it is the way out forthe first time becomes true.8 It is made to be true or to have “warranted as-sertibility” by the very testing of it. To the extent that it here consists in ver-ifying, truth is instrumentally or humanistically purposive.

It is no surprise, then, that nineteenth and twentieth century philosophyburied with a vengeance the old teleology and took up the new. If truth andmeaning both require human purpose because they include testability and if,since Kant, human purpose is the only purpose we know about, then how isthe old teleology of Aristotle and Aquinas either relevant or possible? In otherwords, the temptation is to answer (2) above in favor of ideal teleology. Real

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teleology, following this line of thought, is just that kind of naive teleologyone might expect to find before Galileo and the rise of modern science. Byanalogy, it is to the new teleology what Kant said his own philosophy was topre-critical dogmatism.

History aside, let us turn to (2). In this connection, imagine a philosophy inwhich purpose characterizes reality itself as opposed to how we construe,manage, or organize reality. In it, purpose is fundamental, just as it is in prag-matism. But to the extent that purpose here characterizes reality itself, thisphilosophy is far from being pragmatism, be it James,’ Dewey’s, Lewis,’Quine’s, or Rorty’s. But neither is it pre-Kantian rationalism or empiricism.Descartes followed Galileo in banishing purpose from nature. Skeptical ofknowledge-claims about the external world, empiricists acquiesced in its de-parture. And to this day it, especially in the wake of the theory of natural se-lection, it remains ostracized. So the philosophy of which I speak swimsagainst not just American pragmatism but the whole current of modern phi-losophy.

Be that as it may, I shall not here repeat the argument for natural endswhich was developed in chapter one. There, it will be recalled, the phenome-non of binary fission in paramecia was cited as requiring natural purpose.9 In-stead, I here proffer arguments for final causes based on i) the comparison ofethics with other practical sciences and ii) the nature of virtue.

THE NATURAL HUMAN END

In chapter one, final causes were construed as forms or patterns to whichevents or actions are oriented as means. The model of a skiff in my mind isthat for the sake of which I make cuts in wood. Likewise, the mature form ofparamecium in m elicits binary fission the end of which is the replication ofthat same form in the new paramecium, p. In each case, some form in anagent is aimed at via some operation or activity in that same agent. Thus theform of the skiff in my mind has itself as end through and by means of mybuilding. Similarly, the form of paramecium in m has itself as end through andby means of its reproductive changes. In each case the end pre-exists in theagent and in each case events or changes which take place in that agent aremeans to that ends. I build for the sake of the skiff and the reproductivechanges in m occur for the sake of m’s form.

However, operations are not always means to some pre-existing form asend. They are themselves sometimes ends. This happens when agents are con-sidered not as active but as having the capacity for activity. That is becauseactivity completes or fulfills a thing’s basic capacity and that is what is meant

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by a final cause. Thus, the end of a carpenter as having the capacity of build-ing is building and the end of a physician as having the capacity of healing ishealing. By contrast, when an agent is taken not as having the capacity for butas being engaged in some activity, then the agent’s end is a form to which thatactivity is oriented. Thus, the end of a carpenter as building is a house and theend of a paramecium as reproducing is the form of paramecium as reproducedin another individual.

Given that ends can be activities that fulfill potentialities in addition to be-ing forms to which activities are inclined, one can ask what the end of per-sons is as persons as opposed to carpenters, physicians, etc.10 The answer isthat it is that very activity which is the distinctive activity of persons, just asbuilding and healing are the distinctive activities of carpenters and physi-cians, respectively. Yet the question presupposes that persons do have an endas persons. However, this perhaps is not evident and must be shown. More-over, a well-known Aristotelian defense of this thesis is suspect. It is that aperson has an end because each and every part of a person has an end.11 Sinceeyes, ears, nose, heart, etc. each one has its own end, it cannot be denied, sayshe, that a person as a whole has an end. Otherwise nature has given the partsan end but not the whole. But that would be unjust and unfitting since theparts exist only for the sake of the whole.12 But since nature does not do whatis unjust and unfitting, it follows that persons have an end just as persons.

Opponents of this deny Aristotle’s premise that each and every part of aperson has an end. Though eyes, ears, heart, etc. might conceivably be con-strued as having ends, how is it plausible to say that the appendix, beard, oreyebrows have an end? And if they do not, then the argument is like sayingthat a cake is excellent because some but not all of its ingredients are excel-lent. Moreover, even if it is true that each and every part of a person has anend, it does not follow that the person as a whole has an end. Otherwise, be-cause each and every element in a cake is excellent it follows that the cake it-self is excellent. Therefore, even if it is true that each and every part of a per-son has an end, how does this argument avoid committing the error ofcomposition in concluding from this true premise that persons themselveshave ends?

Aristotle might have replied that the objection thrives on a false analogy.True, from the fact that some of its parts are excellent, it cannot be inferredthat the cake itself is excellent. But that is only because the ingredients of thecake exist independently of the cake. Flour, salt, etc. exist and are what theyare independently of the cake of which they are part. By contrast, no part ofa person exists or is what it is without the person whose part it is. Persons, un-like cakes or loaves of bread, are organic and not aggregate wholes. Suchwholes explain and are not explained by their parts. You cannot define what

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a human eye, ear, heart, etc. is without including in the definition the idea ofa person. Moreover, these parts cannot exist as parts without a person anymore than a branch of a tree exists or is what it is apart from the tree. Butthese parts are not necessarily included in the concept of a person. On theother hand, no mere aggregate part includes the aggregate in its concept. It isand is what it is independently of that aggregate. No pebble in a pile includesin its definition the pile of which it is a member.

Relying on this difference, Aristotle might answer that any part of a wholehas an end only because the whole itself has an end. For any part of a wholetakes on and follows the life and character of the whole. A branch takes onand reflects the life and character of the tree. This in contrast with an aggre-gate which is nothing over and above the sum of its parts. But that means thatin the case of wholes, the nature of the whole can be gleaned from the natureof the part. From a diseased branch one infers a diseased tree. Because in theorder of being wholes determine their parts, the character of wholes can in theorder of knowing be inferred from the character of their parts. As you knowa tree by its fruit, so do you know a whole by its parts.

Still, even granting the difference between organic wholes on the one handand piles or heaps on the other, and even interpreting the whole-to-part rela-tion in Aristotle’s argument as a relation of an organic whole to its parts, hisargument still fails. Even in the case of organic wholes, one wrongly infers thatwhat is true of each part of the whole is true of the whole. Otherwise it followsthat I weigh under forty pounds because each one of my bodily parts does.

Apart from all of this, though, a more convincing Augustinian argument fornatural purpose turns on our judgments about defections or privations. St. Au-gustine observes that to say that blindness is a defect of the eye and that deaf-ness is a defect of the ear implies that it is the very nature of the eye to seeand of the ear to hear.13 Otherwise, when we say that eyes see and ears hear,what we say about them is accidental or incidental to their natures, like beingbrown or being large. And then, instead of it being the case that blindness isa flaw or privation in eyes as eyes and that deafness is a flaw or lack in earsas ears, blindness and deafness are flaws in eyes and ears taken in some inci-dental or accidental sense. And that is patently false. Blindness is a flaw orprivation in eyes as eyes and not in eyes as brown, large, etc., and deafness isa flaw or privation in ears as ears and not in ears as large, pointed, etc. Thatbeing the case, since defective eyes and ears are opposed to good ones andgood has the nature of an end, it follows that if eyes and ears are defective be-cause they lack sight and hearing, then having sight and hearing is the natu-ral good and hence the natural end of eyes and ears taken just as eyes and ears.Thus do judgments about defects or privations in natural parts imply thatthose parts have their very own natural ends or functions.

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But besides judging that parts of persons are defective, we also say thatpersons themselves are defective. We say that something was gravely miss-ing in Hitler and Attila the Hun. By the previous logic, then, to say that act-ing irrationally is a privation in persons implies that it belongs to persons toact rationally. Otherwise when we say that persons act rationally what we sayabout them is accidental to their natures, like being white or tall. And then,acting against reason is a flaw not in persons as such but in persons taken insome incidental capacity. And that is false. So if defective persons are op-posed to good ones and once again good has the nature of an end, it followsthat if persons are defective because they act irrationally, then acting ration-ally is the good and hence the end of persons as persons. It follows that justas judgments about defective parts of persons imply that those parts haveends, so too do judgments about defective persons imply that persons as per-sons have an end. But the end of an agent as having a distinctive capacity isthat activity that fulfills that capacity, as the end of carpenters is building. Fur-ther, the special activity of a thing comes from its difference and a person’sdifference is being rational. It follows that the end of a person as person is ra-tional activity.

Finally, despite appearing to be a non-sequitur, the inference in questionfrom “persons in incidental capacities have ends” to “persons as persons havean end” is sound. For the conclusion follows by the rule of genus. Under thisrule, what belongs to a genus belongs to its species. Ethics is a practical sci-ence as is medicine, carpentry, shipbuilding, and so on. So by the rule ofgenus, what belongs to the latter just as practical sciences also belongs toethics. Now agents in medicine, carpentry, shipbuilding, etc. all have a spe-cial activity in those sciences, just insofar as they are practical sciences. Car-penters have a special activity as practitioners in carpentry, namely building.And so is it with all productive practical science. That is because the end ofpractical science is action and not knowledge. Under the rule of genus, there-fore, agents in ethics, just insofar as they are practitioners in ethics, have aspecialized activity.

As was stated, however, the activity of an agent in any practical science isthe end of that agent in that science. That is because these activities fulfill theability in those agents to build, to heal, etc. and the fulfillment of an ability byits corresponding act is the end and good of that ability or capacity.14 It followsthat the special activity of ethical agents is identified with the end of thosesame agents. But it is acting well as persons and not as physicians, carpenters,etc. that ethical agents have as their special activity. That is why ethics mightbe called the first practical science. For the ideas of physician, carpenter, etc.include the idea of a person but not vice versa. That means that the science thatdeals with activities of persons as persons precedes any science that deals with

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the activities of persons in incidental capacities. As ethical as opposed to med-ical, legal, or governmental agents, etc., they do not have as their special op-eration acting well in healing, law, public service, etc. Therefore, ethical agentshave as their end acting well as persons. Hence, persons have an end as per-sons which is the same as the end of a person as practitioner in ethics. But thedistinct or special activity of a thing comes from its difference and it is evidentthat rationality is the difference in persons. Consequently, the end of personstaken as persons is rational activity. Thus,

1. Ethics is a practical science.2. Agents in any practical science have a special activity in those sciences.3. That activity is their end.4. Agents in ethics have acting well as persons as their special activity.5. So agents in ethics, i.e. persons as persons, have acting well as person as

their end.6. Therefore, persons as persons have a natural end.7. The distinctive activity of a thing comes from its difference.8. But rationality is the difference in persons.9. Therefore, persons as persons have an end and that end is rational activity.

THE CASE OF VIRTUE

Finally, natural purpose is implied not just by the relation between ethics andother practical sciences. It is also implied by virtue. To see this, take a childwho sees a saw for the first time and asks what the saw is for. Suppose shealso sees a pile of planks in a boatyard and asks what the planks are for. Thesequestions are answered in terms of two different kinds of means. The saw isa purely instrumental means but the planks are not. The saw is not part of theend for which it is used. It remains external to the wood it is used to cut. Butthe planks are part of the end for which they exist. They do not remain ex-ternal to the skiff after they are used to make it but become part of it. The sawand the planks are evidently means to some end. Both are for something be-yond themselves. It is just that in the second case but not in the first the meansbecome part of the end. Mill, to answer the objection that utilitarianism re-duces virtue to an expediency, to a mere means, invokes this same distinction.Virtue is no external device by which happiness is reached, says he. It is ameans to the end of happiness that is also an integral part of happiness.15

Yet real as opposed to pragmatic purpose is more than this. It is purpose inwhich things are means apart from our making them so. And right here theanalogy of the planks ceases. To see this, look again at Mill’s account of

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virtue. It owes much to Aristotle. True, virtue is part of happiness and not justan external tool by which happiness is reached. It is both constitutive of anda means to the end of happiness just as planks are both constitutive of and ameans to a skiff. And yet, virtue is not internal to happiness the way planksare internal to the skiff. Having no inner tendency to become parts of a skiff,the planks might just as well have become parts of a shed. Something exter-nal to the planks is therefore required to push them toward a skiff. That some-thing is us. But no outside force is needed to push the virtues toward happi-ness. They deliver up the end automatically. They have, as it were, a nose forhappiness. That is because, says Aristotle, virtues are habits and habits by def-inition are oriented to their respective acts.16 But it is just in these virtuousacts or in virtuous living that happiness consists.

The point is that because virtue naturally and not forcibly becomes part ofthe end, it follows that virtue is, in the view of Aristotle, no mere instrumen-tal means. Virtue’s being a means to and part of the end is not something thatis conferred on it by us. It is something it has in its own right. It is real andnot mind-dependent means. While virtue is for happiness as the planks are forthe skiff, virtue is by definition for happiness while the planks are not by def-inition for the skiff. It is we who decide that the planks are for the skiff. Butvirtue is for happiness whether we say so or not. That is why virtue is real andthe planks instrumental means to their respective ends. Sharing with pragma-tism the idea of the centrality of purpose, this assay of virtue breaks withpragmatism in denying that all means and ends are made by us.

To spell it out further, consider the virtue of courage. If the habit of couragehas acting courageously as its natural end then it is arbitrary to deny that allthe other virtues have their own corresponding acts as their natural ends. Andfrom this it follows that real as over against pragmatic teleology looms largein ethics or at least in what is nowadays called virtue ethics. All depends,then, on whether it can be said that acts of courage are in fact real ends.

Suppose, though, that they are not real ends. Then acts of courage are ei-ther not ends at all, or else, like the skiff with respect to the planks, they arehuman-made ends. This is to say that acts of courage are ends because we saythey are and not vice versa. But neither alternative is possible. If on the onehand acts of courage are not ends at all then they are evidently not the real orhuman-made ends of courage. But then either something else is the end ofcourage or courage is not to begin with a habit or natural bent. But in this sub-ordinate dilemma neither alternative is possible. Nothing else is the end of thehabit of courage but courageous action. Habits by definition are directed toactions that exemplify the habit. Nothing else is the end of the habit of gram-mar but grammatical speaking and nothing else is the end of the habit of cour-tesy but courteous acts. And if courage is not to begin with a habit or bent,

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then no account is given of the fact that persons with courage are naturallyprone to act courageously. But if on the other hand acts of courage are human-made ends only then so too is courage or that of which they are the ends. Hu-man ends have human means. Courage, then, would on this option be tocourageous acts what planks are to a skiff. It would be instrumental meansonly. But then courage would no more be a natural bent to acting coura-geously than planks would have a natural bent to become a skiff. And thenonce again it follows, counter-intuitively, that no person with courage is nat-urally inclined to act courageously any more than planks are naturally in-clined to make a skiff. So it follows that acts of courage are the real ends ofcourage. By extension, therefore, real acts of any and all the virtues, be theyintellectual or moral, are the real ends of those virtues. But then, a fortiori,there are real means and real ends in the world independently of human in-vention.

REASON IN ETHICS

On the strength of these arguments, then, let it be granted that persons have anatural end which is identified with rational activity. Suppose too that sincehappiness is our final end, it can be said that happiness consists in rational ac-tivity. Then the question is, is it in any kind of rational activity that happinessconsists?

When ‘rational activity’ is taken in the broad sense to mean any kind ofthinking, then Aristotle and Aquinas answer negatively. Otherwise, sinceeven bad reasoning is a kind of rational activity in this sense, happiness or thehighest good includes reasoning badly. But end is the same as good since theend of anything perfects it. So this rational activity or happiness consists notjust in any rational activity but in good or excellent rational activity. But vir-tuous activity consists just in this. If the rational activity in question is rationalin itself, then its excellent or virtuous functioning is thinking well. But if itconcerns activity that is rational by participation, then its excellent or virtu-ous functioning is acting well. The virtues in speculative thinking are under-standing, science, and wisdom.17 These aid and perfect the intellect’s searchfor truth. By the first, ultimate principles are grasped in judgments. By thesecond, true conclusions are deduced from these principles in reasoning. Bythe third, ultimate causes in the sciences are apprehended especially in thefirst science of metaphysics. However, ethics concerns only how we ought toact and not how we ought to think. So it is the moral virtues with which ethicsis concerned. The latter include the regulation of appetite by reason. They ex-emplify excellent functioning in action and not thought and include temper-

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ance, courage, and justice.18 These perfect the will and not the intellect. Herevirtue is making right choices or choices that accord with reason. What ismeant by this is evident from examining excellent choices in the specializedpractical sciences. What are these choices and why are they excellent or “vir-tuous?”

MORAL VIRTUE: RIGHT REASON AS MEAN

To answer, the choices and actions of physicians, shipbuilders, carpenters,etc. are made right choices and actions when they skirt both excess and de-fect. It is because they strike this mean that these actions accord with reason.Successful physicians gear the kind and dosage of medication to the age andcondition of patients. It must be neither too much nor too little, too strong nortoo weak. Skilled shipbuilders choose just the right kind and condition ofwood. And they trim or bend boards to the right angle, neither too obtuse nortoo acute. Good dentists drill teeth neither too much nor too little and at cor-rect angles. Successful carpenters fit doors into frames neither too tightly nortoo loosely. Experienced lawyers question witnesses with enough boldness tobring out the facts but not with so much boldness as to badger them. So it isin all other specialized sciences. This know-how in striking the mean or mid-dle is just what is meant by action that follows reason.

So too is it the case in ethics. For all secondary practical sciences include theprinciple of the first practical science which is ethics. And that principle is act-ing in accord with reason. As mathematics and the philosophy of nature includethe principles of metaphysics but not vice versa, so do the specialized practicalsciences include this central idea of ethics but again not vice versa. That is whyethics is the first practical science just as and for the same reason that meta-physics is first speculative science. To the extent that persons act rationally aspersons they are virtuous persons. To the extent that they act according to rea-son in medicine, carpentry, etc., they are “virtuous” physicians, carpenters, etc.For the idea of acting according to reason in medicine, carpentry, etc. includesthe idea of acting according to reason but not vice versa. Moreover, the idea ofa physician, carpenter, etc. includes the idea of a person but again not viceversa. Therefore, all the specialized practical sciences logically depend onethics as the composite depends on the simple. Hence, though in the order ofknowing the principle of the golden mean in the specialized practical sciencescues us that the same principle holds in ethics, still, in the order of logic, thatsame principle holds in those specialized science because it holds in ethics. Forphysicians, carpenters, etc. are persons; but persons are not necessarily physi-cians or carpenters, etc. To the extent that persons as persons habitually aim at

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and hit the mean in their choices and actions in everyday life they are virtuouspersons. The difference is that in ethics the action that is a mean between ex-cess and defect is not a means to some product or state that is external to theagent. It is an end in itself and not merely a means to a further end. For ethicsaims just at acting well as persons and not at health, ships, houses, good teeth,winning cases, or any other extrinsic product.

Consider temperance, courage and justice. In each case the virtue in ques-tion consists in being prone to choose a rational mean between irrational ex-tremes. Temperate persons steer the passions between profligacy and insensi-tivity. Courageous persons guide the irascible appetite between rashness andcowardice. And just persons follow reason in shunning either excess or defectin dealing with others. Distributive justice gets between extravagance and in-sufficiency in bestowing rewards and between harshness and softness in pun-ishment. It gives persons their due, neither more nor less. And commutativejustice strikes the mean of fairness.

As was implied, virtue is not only the perfection of a power. It is also thehabit of functioning well in a rational power. And the habit perfects thatpower. By contrast, all non-rational, physical powers are directly determinedby nature to act only in one way. They therefore need no mediating habit tobend their functions in the right direction.19 The power of sight is automati-cally oriented to seeing. It does not require a habit to make it see well insteadof poorly. It is not made to function well or virtuously only by a habit thatstands between it and its activity. It just naturally operates well. The samegoes for all other bodily powers. If the genus of virtue is habit and there areno habits in powers that are exercised only in one way, then there are novirtues in these powers. But the rational powers can be exercised in more thanone way.20 The intellect can reason either correctly or incorrectly, and the willcan choose rightly or wrongly. They therefore need a habit which, acting asmediator, bends them in the right direction. As the function of reasoning islinked to conclusions via first principles, so too are rational powers linked totheir characteristic activities via habits. The habit which inclines a rationalpower to act correctly is virtue, while the habit which bends the same powerto act incorrectly is vice. Thus, virtues are good habits and vices are badhabits. If, then, (i) virtue is a habit, (ii) habits are only in those powers thatcan be exercised in more than one way, and (iii) the latter are only the rationalpowers, then it follows that virtue strictly speaking is only in persons.

VIRTUE AND WILL

The subject of virtue can be further specified. The rational power to whichhabits and hence virtues primarily belong is the will. Habits might give us a

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mere aptness for a good work. And then they are virtues in a relative sense.In this sense of ‘habit’ artisans who have the ability to produce a good workhave the good habit or “virtue” of art. In this same sense of having the abil-ity to produce a good work, those who know how to reason well have thevirtue of science. But habits may give us not only the ability to make a goodwork but also the tendency to actuate that ability. Craftspersons who have theability to produce a good work might spitefully make a bad work. They thenhave a virtue in the first, loose sense of the term but not in the second, strictsense. Physicians who can produce health might deliberately underminehealth. Once again, they can be said to be virtuous in the loose sense but notin the strict sense. Even though such persons have virtue in an extendedsense, they lack virtue in the primary sense. For they lack the good use oftheir ability.21 They are good craftspersons or physicians, etc. but not goodpersons. To make a good work actually and not just have the ability to do sorequires rectitude in the will.

Moral virtues like justice, temperance and courage that actually make aperson prone to act justly, temperately and courageously in addition to con-ferring the ability to act in these ways.22 That is why they are virtues in theabsolute sense. One reason for this is that a thing is not said to be good un-less it is actual as over against potential. For good by definition is end and endis the full actuation of potentiality. Therefore, it is by having a habit in thissecond sense—in the sense of the good use of ability—that persons are saidabsolutely to do good and to be good.23 Such habits are therefore virtues inthe absolute sense. But it is the will that moves the other powers to act. There-fore, since having a habit of doing or being good in this second sense dependson the will’s command, habits and hence virtues in this same sense resideonly in the will.24 Alternatively, the idea of a habit (and hence of virtue) im-plies a relation to our nature. For habits are either suitable or unsuitable to ournature. But a thing’s nature, which is its end, is further ordained to anotherend. This is an operation of some kind. Therefore, it is essential to habit, andhence to virtue, to have a relation to an operation or act.25 But all the rationalpowers are moved to their operations or acts by a command of the will. It fol-lows that virtue is primarily in the will.

Finally, since habits that confer a mere aptness for a good work (such asthe “virtues” of art and science) concern the potential while those that conferthe good use of that ability concern the actual, the latter are better than theformer. For as always in Aquinas good is actuality as over against potential-ity. It follows that it is in having a habit in the latter sense that a person isproperly said to do and to be good. Therefore, virtues that are habits in thissame sense are virtues strictly so called. For virtue is what makes us and ourwork to be actually good.26 It is that which one uses if one wills.27 But thegood use of an ability depends on the will. For it is the will that moves all the

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other rational powers to their acts.28 It follows once again that virtues strictlyspeaking reside either in the will or in the intellect as in some way moved bythe will.29

Aquinas joins Aristotle in denying that virtue is either a power or a pas-sion.30 Persons act out of anger, fear or pity and these are passive emotions.So passion is a source of action. But we are called good according to virtuesand not according as we are angry, fearful, or have pity. So virtue is not a pas-sion. Alternatively, persons are not called bad because they are angry or fear-ful; they are so called because these emotions are uncalled for or had to a de-gree that is inappropriate. Also, we are praised for virtue and blamed for vice.But we are neither praised nor blamed for anger, fear or pity, etc. We areblamed not because we are angry or fearful but because our anger or fear, orthe degree of them, is unfitting given the circumstances. Therefore, it is thepresence or absence of reason that makes these passions praiseworthy orblameworthy.

Moreover virtue is preceded by deliberation and hence by choice. Prior toacting virtuously we deliberate as to the course of action that will strike themean at which virtuous action aims. Our actions are thus means to an end. Butthis implies choice since all choice is of means. Moreover, all choice forAquinas is free since it involves deliberative reason which implies the abilityto prefer either this or that. Therefore acting virtuously is the good use of freechoice.31 Since choice is of the means and not of the end, virtue concernschoosing the right means to the end. So for Aquinas prudence is involved inall the virtues since it is defined as the habit of taking the right means to agood end. This is what is meant by the unity of the moral virtues.

Besides passions, powers too are sources of action. By our power of delib-erative reason we take means to ends. However, virtues are not powers. We arecalled good and we are praised because of our virtues. But we are not calledgood or praised because we have the power of taking means to ends or evenbecause we have the power of being virtuous. Besides, powers are in us by na-ture but not so virtues and vices. Therefore it can be said that virtue is no morea power than it is a passion. By process of elimination, then, it follows thatvirtue is a habit. And a habit is defined as as a disposition whereby that whichis disposed is disposed either well or ill to its nature or operation.32

As was said, Aquinas holds that the idea of a habit implies a relation to thenature of the subject of the habit. Any habit is either suitable or unsuitable tothat nature, i.e. either a good or a bad habit. A good habit is one that disposesus to act suitably to our nature while a bad habit is one that disposes us to actunsuitably to our nature.33 And since we have a rational nature, good habitsdispose us to act in conformity to reason while bad habits do not. But since athing’s nature is ordained to some distinctive operation, habit implies a rela-

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tion to a subject’s operation as well as to its nature. For operation is the endof some nature as, for instance, thinking is the end of a rational nature.34 ThusAquinas shares Aristotle’s view that every nature has its own distinct opera-tion which is its end or good. Moreover, a good habit perfects the power ofwhich it is the habit as act perfects potentiality. But a good habit or virtue, isitself perfected by the operation or action to which it is prone. That is becausehabits are for the sake of actions and the end of anything is its good, fulfill-ment or perfection.35 Action perfects habit as habit perfects power. Thus doeshabit stand between power and act, specifying the former but being specifiedby the latter.

The ability of rational powers and only these to be determined in more thanone way implies freedom. Thus persons are free just because they are rationalaccording to Aquinas. The price of reason and the freedom that is consequentupon it is that the free power requires a habit if it is to be exercised in the rightway, i.e. in a way that is suitable to the nature from which the power issues.As was said, neither non-living things nor brutes need habits to steer theirpowers in the right direction. The powers of inanimate things and brutes au-tomatically exercise themselves correctly or in ways that accord with their na-tures. Freedom or indifference to several options is therefore a condition of apower’s having a habit (and hence a virtue) and the power of reason is a nec-essary and sufficient condition of freedom. Having the power of reason isthus a necessary and sufficient condition of having a habit. ‘Habit,’ ‘reason’and ‘freedom’ thus seem to be equivalent notions in the ethics of Aquinas.Habits imply powers that can be exercised in more than one way and viceversa. For a habit is just that by which we are well or ill disposed to our op-eration or end. Powers that can be exercised in more than one way imply free-dom and vice versa. Finally, being rational implies having a power that canbe exercised in more than one way and vice versa.

As habits, intellectual virtues and moral virtues are sources of intellectualand moral activities, respectively. Like any habit, virtue is made and strength-ened by the very actions it causes. We are trained to say “please” and “thankyou,” to hold doors for others, to greet and treat guests hospitably, and so on.After repetition, the habit of doing them is formed.36 Then the same actionsthat caused the habits are the effects of them. Actions are in the strict sensevirtuous for Aquinas only when they come from virtuous habits. In that casethey are not only actions that accord with virtue but they are also actions thatare done out of virtue i.e. actions that issue from a virtuous disposition. Ac-tions that accord with virtue but which are done out of imitation (as for ex-ample, with children) and not out of a habit of virtue are hardly called virtu-ous. Yet performing actions that accord with virtue even though they are notdone out of virtue is important. Without actions that imitate virtuous action

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even though there is no habit of virtue behind them, there would be no truevirtuous action. For then the habit of virtue would not have been established.

Aquinas specifies three conditions of virtuous action. Persons who act vir-tuously must not act in ignorance or by chance but should know what they areabout. Further, the virtuous action must not be done out of passion as whensomeone acts virtuously out of fear. Nor can the virtuous act be done for thesake of something else, i.e. for the sake of money or praise. It must instead bedone for itself. Finally, the virtuous act must issue from a fixed proneness tochoose virtuously so that the person is not moved by something external.37

To sum it up, virtue, end, happiness and reason come together in the ethicsof Aquinas in the following way. A thing is naturally prone to activity that ac-cords with its form. Since activity follows form, it might be called a thing’s“second form” whereas the form itself might be called a thing’s “first form.”In any case, the form of a person being rational, each person is inclined bynature to act rationally or according to reason, be it rational activity in itselfor rational activity by participation. This is virtuous activity, either intellec-tual or moral. But since the natural end or good of a thing is exactly that towhich it is naturally inclined, it follows that the end or good of persons con-sists in rational activity. But to act according to reason is to act virtuously. Forvirtue is nothing else but a habit in the rational powers which inclines thosepowers, intellect and will, to activities that conform to our nature as rationalagents. Each person, then, is naturally inclined to act virtuously. That is ourcalling. But to the natural law belongs those things to which a person is bynature inclined. Therefore, virtuous acts are prescribed by what Aquinas callsthe natural law. To the extent, then, that one acts contrary to right reason ei-ther by excess or by defect, one fails to act virtuously. Instead, one actsagainst one’s own happiness and contrary to one’s nature or essence as a ra-tional being.

Accordingly, in Aquinas’s natural law ethics the idea of good is funda-mental since end has the nature of good in his view. It is even behind the no-tions of “ought” and “right.” This is shown by analogies. Suppose that A isusing a saw and says that it is not doing what it ought to do. When B askswhy, A responds that it is not accomplishing its purpose as a saw. Here,‘ought’ is defined in terms of end. Again, we say of physicians whose treat-ment of a patient makes her worse off that they are not doing what they oughtto do. When asked why, we reply that their actions flout their end as physi-cians which is to heal. Now as it is with the operations of saws and physi-cians, so is it with the actions of persons. For suppose that persons are not do-ing what they ought to do or not acting how they ought to act. If asked why,Aquinas would answer that their actions fly in the face of their very own nat-ural end as persons.

232 Chapter Six

A DILEMMA AND AQUINAS’S SOLUTION

The foregoing summary of Aquinas’s ethics shows his indebtedness to Aris-totle. But Aristotelian and hence Thomistic ethics seems to be susceptible ofthe charge of intellectualism. This error falsely identifies the best personswith the best thinkers. If (i) the ethical end is happiness, (ii) the latter is ex-cellent rational activity, and (iii) acting includes thinking but not vice versa,then excellent rational activity consists primarily in excellent thinking and notin excellent acting. It is identified with what rational in itself and not withwhat is participatively rational. But then the ethical end of happiness is iden-tified with intellectual virtue. And then the problem is that Aristotle succumbsto intellectualism, which is identifying good persons with those who thinkwell instead of with those who act well.

To answer this, Aristotle might identify happiness with excellent rationalaction instead of with excellent rational activity. Then the summum bonumbecomes moral virtue and not intellectual virtue. And with this the objectionis disarmed.

Yet this reply only substitutes practicalism for intellectualism. If happinessis a kind of acting and not in a kind of thinking and is also the natural end ofpersons, then acting and not thinking is the end and good of persons. In thisway, therefore, thought, which figures in action, subserves the final end of ac-tion. However, this instrumentalism opposes Aristotle’s own elevation ofthought over action, of what is rational in itself to what is only participativelyrational. Since rational action includes rationality, the latter is simpler thanthe former. And the simple, for Aristotle, logically precedes the compositewhich is explained in terms of it. Moreover, thought directs action and whatdirects is prior and superior to what it directs, at least in the view of Aristo-tle. So to answer the charge of intellectualism, Aristotle could not fall back onthis practicalist alternative.

Even so, it seems that Aristotle bypasses this fork of either intellectualismor practicalism when he seemingly identifies the human end with both think-ing well and acting well and not just with one of them. Thus,

Now this [part has two parts, which have reason in different ways], one as obey-ing reason [in the other part], the other as itself having reason and thinking [Weintend both.]38

And further,

We have found, then, that the human function is the soul’s activity that expressesreason [as itself having reason] or requires reason [as obeying reason].39

Ethics 233

Assuming, then that the human end is both reason and action in accord withreason, it follows that the extremes of intellectualism and practicalism are by-passed. Good persons are those who both think rationally and act rationallyand not ones who do the one but not the other.

With this Aquinas largely, but not entirely, agrees. For Aquinas identifiesthe final end of persons with the Beatific Vision. And in this he evidently de-parts from and goes beyond Aristotle. But it would be a mistake to think ei-ther that Aquinas simply adds a totally new and different end onto the naturalend of Aristotle, i.e. thinking and acting well in this life, or that he abandonsthe latter as end. The first views Aquinas as simply tacking on something toAristotle just to satisfy Christian beliefs. The second sees Aquinas as denyingoutright Aristotle’s identification of the human end with thinking and actingwell in this life.

The fact of the matter is that Aquinas gets between these two extremes andstrikes a synthesis. This mix of Aristotle and Christianity is neither Aris-totelian nor Augustinian ethics. It is uniquely Thomistic. It consists in mak-ing one element in the natural end, namely, acting well in this life, a neces-sary means to the last end, the Vision, and in identifying the Vision itself withthe apex of the other element in the natural end, i.e. thinking well. By thisAquinas skirts the dilemma of either intellectualism or practicalism in a dif-ferent way than does Aristotle. Neither philosopher could countenance eitherreducing good persons to good thinkers or subordinating thought to action.For in the view of both philosophers the former precedes, because it is in-cluded in, the latter.

Aquinas concurs that the natural human end is intellectual and moralvirtue. But though it is end, this natural human end is not the last end as it isin Aristotle. This Aquinas reserves for a type of intellectual virtue alone. Butthis fails to imply that the best thinkers in the world are the best persons inthe world just because the intellectual virtue with which Aquinas identifiesthe final end is not to begin with in the world. For it consists in the BeatificVision in the next world.

Therefore, Aristotle and Aquinas both agree and differ. Both say that it ismoral virtue that is the end of ethics. But they differ as to the final end of per-sons. For Aristotle the final human end is thinking and acting well in this life.But for Aquinas it consists in what he considers to be the apex of humanthought. And this occurs only in the next life. This is the Beatific Vision.Since intellectual virtue figures in both, these ends overlap though notstraightforwardly so. For there is in his view no comparison between the Be-atific Vision and the earthly intellectual virtues of understanding, science,wisdom and prudence.

234 Chapter Six

Aquinas would hold that the Beatific Vision can be shown to be our lastend by the following. The activity proper to a thing is that thing’s perfection.For any activity is to the form from which it issues as the actual is to the po-tential. In addition, actuality is the good or perfection of potentiality. Sothings which engage in their respective proper activities are to that extent fitand good. But the proper activity of anything is its end. Hence, when thingsperform their distinctive activities most excellently, they are most perfect andhave reached their last end. But understanding is our distinctive or special ac-tivity since our differentia is being rational. Therefore, understanding mostexcellently is our last end and perfection. But one understands best and in thehighest way when one grasps or is acquainted with the most intelligible ob-ject. That is because immanent operations such as understanding and willingtake their perfection from their objects. But God who is the ultimate cause ofall being is the highest intelligible object. It follows that our last end or per-fection is acquaintance with God. But our last end or perfection is evidentlyhappiness. It follows that knowing God in the Vision is that in which our ul-timate happiness consists.

So it is that by making the Beatific Vision our last end as opposed to someearthly intellectual act or accomplishment, Aquinas avoids intellectualismwithout either succumbing to practicalism or abandoning the priority ofthought to action. When it concerns intellectual virtue, therefore, Aquinasforges a synthesis of Aristotle and Christianity. He also does this as regardsmoral virtue. The latter is a mean between excessive and defective feeling andaction. But to this Aristotelian idea of the “golden mean” he once again givesa Christian twist. Aquinas denies that moral virtue is an end without being ameans to a further end. Though it is end in itself and not solely a means orpurely instrumental, moral virtue is nonetheless means to the Beatific Visionwhich is our final and complete end.

Accordingly and ironically, when it concerns our summum bonum Aquinasespouses ethical intellectualism after all. But it is ethical intellectualism of adifferent color. It does not consist in subordinating moral virtue to intellectualvirtue on earth but in subordinating the former to intellectual virtue in heaven.For since the Beatific Vision is knowing and not acting, it is intellectual andnot moral virtue. It is also perfect intellectual virtue since the object knownin the Vision is not just cause but the highest cause, not just act but the high-est act. Just because this same Vision is the final end of moral virtue, it ishigher than the latter. So, while the Vision, the highest of all intellectual ex-periences, depends on moral virtue for its cause, moral virtue in turn dependson the Vision for its concept. For any means includes the idea of the end inits concept.

Ethics 235

NOTES

1. G. E. Moore, Ethics (London: Williams and Norgate,1912), 122–124.2. ———, Ethics, 63.3. Brand Blanchard, “The New Subjectivism in Ethics.” Philosophy and Phe-

nomenological Research 9 (1949): 507–08.4. William James, “What Pragmatism Means” in Essays in Pragmatism, ed. A.

Castell (New York: Hafner, 1964), 146.5. ———, “What Pragmatism Means,” 146, 155. See also ———, “Pragmatism’s

Conception of Truth” in Essays in Pragmatism, 162.6. ———, “What Pragmatism Means” in Essays in Pragmatism,146.7. C.S.Peirce, “How To Make Our Ideas Clear,” in Pragmatic Philosophy, ed. A.

Rorty (Garden City: NY, Doubleday, 1966), 15–16.8. William James, “Pragmatism’s Conception of Truth” in Essays in Pragma-

tism,161–162.9. See Chapter One, 16ff.

10. The following paragraphs use arguments which also appear in my “Is ThereNatural Purpose?” See International Philosophical Quarterly, June, 2008.

11. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics in R. McKeon, ed. The Basic Works of Aristo-tle (New York: Random House, 1941), (1097b, l. 23ff), 941–2.

12. Aquinas, Commentary on the Nicomachean Ethics, trans. C.I. Litzinger (Chicago:Henry Regnery, 1964) I. L.X: C121, 53.

13. St. Augustine, The City of God in Baird and Kaufmann, ed. Medieval Philoso-phy (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Prentice Hall, 2003), 126.

14. Aquinas, Summa Theologica in A. Pegis, ed. Introduction to St. ThomasAquinas (New York: The Modern Library, 1948), I q5 a1, reply obj.1, 35.

15. J.S. Mill, Utilitarianism ed. George Sher (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2001) ch. IV,37–8.

16. Aristotle, Metaphysics 1022b 10–12; see also, Aquinas, Summa contra gen-tiles, in Pegis, ed. Introduction to Saint Thomas Aquinas Book III ch. XLVIII, 465.

17. Aquinas, Summa theologica I-II q57 a2, 568–69.18. ———, Summa theologica I-II q61 a1–2, 587–89.19. ———, Summa theologica I-II q49 a4, 545–46. See also I-II q55 a1, 561–62.20. ———, Summa theologica I-II q55 a1, 56121. ———, Summa theologica I-II q57 a3 and 4, 571–74. See also ———, Summa

theologica in A. Pegis, trans. Basic Writings of Saint Thomas Aquinas (New York:Random House, 1945), vol. 2 I-II q56, a3, 421–23.

22. ———, Summa theologica in Pegis, trans. Basic Writings vol.2 I-II q56a3,421–23.

23. ———, Summa theologica I-II q56 a3, 421–23.24. ———, Summa theologica I-II q56, a3, 421–23.25. ———, Summa theologica I-II q49 a3, 371–72.26. ———, Summa theologica I-II q56, a3, 421–23.27. ———, Summa theologica I-II q50, a5, 382–83. See also I-II q49 a3, 371–72.28. ———, Summa theologica I-II q56, a3, 421–23.

236 Chapter Six

29. ———, Summa theologica I-II q56 a3, 421–23.30. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics 1105b 19—1106a 12.31. Aquinas, Summa Theologica, in Pegis, trans., Basic Writings vol.2 I-II q55 a1

reply obj. 2, 413.32. ———, Summa theologica, I-II q49 a1, 366–67.33. ———, Summa theologica, I-II q54 a3, 409–10.34. ———, Summa theologica, I-II q49 a3, 371–72; I-II q50 a2, 377–78.35. ———, Summa contra gentiles, in Pegis, trans., Basic Writings vol.2. Book III,

ch. XLVIII, 84–5.36. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. II. L.IV:C 285, 131.37. ———, Commentary on Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. II. L.IV:C 283, 130.38. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, trans. T. Irwin (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1985),

1098a 3–8, 16.39. ———, Nicomachean Ethics, trans. T. Irwin 1098a 5–10, 17.

Ethics 237

239

Anderson, J.F., ed.and trans., An Introduction to the Metaphysics of St. ThomasAquinas. Chicago: Henry Regnery, 1953.

Aristotle, Metaphysics. in The Basic Works of Aristotle. Ed. Richard McKeon. NewYork: Random House,1941.

———. Nicomachean Ethics. Trans. Terence Irwin. Indianapolis: Hackett, 1985.———. Physics. In The Basic Works of Aristotle, Ed. Richard McKeon. NewYork:

Random House, 1941.Baird and Kaufmann, eds., Medieval Philosophy. Upper Saddle River, N.J: Prentice

Hall, 2003.Bergson, Henri, An Introduction to Metaphysics. Trans. T. E. Hulme. Indianapolis:

Bobbs Merrill, 1955.Castel, A., ed. Essays in Pragmatism. New York: Hafner, 1964.Chen, T., ed., Research in Protozoology. New York: Pergammon Press, 1969.Craig, William Lane, and J.P. Moreland, eds. Naturalism: A Critical Analysis. New

York: Routledge, 2000.Flew, Anthony, ed., Essays in Conceptual Analysis. London: MacMillan, 1963.Foster and Humphries, trans., Aristotle’s De Anima with the Commentary of St.

Thomas Aquinas. New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1965.Gall, J.G., ed., The Molecular Biology of Ciliated Protozoa. Orlando, Fla: The Acad-

emic Press, 1986.Geach, Peter, Truth and Hope. Notre Dame: Univ. of Notre Dame Press, 2001.Hume, David, A Treatise of Human Nature, Ed. L.A. Selby-Bigge. Oxford: Oxford

Univ. Press, 1967.Jowett, B., trans., The Dialogues of Plato. Oxford: The Clarendon Press, 1953.Kant, Immanuel, Critique of Pure Reason. Trans. Norman Kemp Smith. London:

MacMillan, 1958.Kenny, Anthony, Aquinas on Mind. London: Routledge, 1993.Lynch, Michael P., ed. The Nature of Truth: Classic and Contemporary Perspectives.

Cambridge: MIT Press [Bradford], 2001.

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Maritain, Jacques, Philosophy of Nature. New York: Philosophical Library, 1951.McInerny, Ralph, Aquinas. Malden: Polity Press, 2004.Mill, J.S., Utilitarianism. Ed.George Sher. Indianapolis: Hackett, 2000.Miller, Barry, The Fullness of Being. Notre Dame, IN: Univ. of Notre Dame Press, 2002.Moore, G.E., Ethics. London: Williams and Norgate, 1912.Pasnau, Robert and Christopher Shields, The Philosophy of Aquinas. Boulder: West-

view Press, 2004.Pegis, Anton, ed. and trans., Basic Writings of Saint Thomas Aquinas. New York: Ran-

dom House, 1945.———, ed. and trans., Introduction to St. Thomas Aquinas. New York: The Modern Li-

brary, 1948.Pozzo, Riccardo, ed. The Impact of Aristotelianism on Modern Philosophy. Washing-

ton, D.C. The Catholic Univ. of America Press, 2004.Quine, W.V., Philosophy of Logic. Englewood Cliffs, N.J: Prentice Hall, 1970.Rorty, A., ed., Pragmatic Philosophy. Garden City, N.J.: Doubleday, 1966.Royce, J. The Religious Aspect of Philosophy. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1885.Russell, Bertrand, The Problems of Philosophy. London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1970.St. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics. Trans. Blackwell, Spath,

and Thirlkel. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1963.———. Commentary on the Metaphysics of Aristotle. Trans. John P. Rowan. Chicago:

Henry Regnery, 1961.———. Commentary on the Nicomachean Ethics. Trans. C.I. Litzinger. Chicago: Henry

Regnery, 1964.———. On Being and Essence. Trans. A. Maurer. Toronto: Pontifical Institute of Me-

dieval Studies, 1949.Toulmin, Stephen. Return to Reason. Cambridge: Harvard Univ. Press, 2001.Veatch, Henry B., Intentional Logic. New Haven: Yale Univ. Press, 1952.———. Rational Man. Bloomington, IN: Indiana Univ. Press, 1962.Wild, John, Introduction to Realistic Philosophy. New York: Harper & Brothers, 1948.Wittgenstein, L. Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. Trans. Pears and McGuiness. Lon-

don: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1961.

240 Selected Bibliography

241

abstraction, 151–52appetite, 170–75; and form, 171–72,

173–75; natural vs. elicited, 173Aristotle: and arguments for a human

end, 221–22; on cause, 10–15; onchange, 4–5; on final cause, 13–14;objections to Platonic forms, 73–80;on substance, 5–10

beatific vision, 234–35being: actual and potential, 4–5, 37;

caused by God, 60–63; degrees of,58–60; divisions of, 37–43; negativeand privative, 38–39; propositional,38; science of, 31–34; senses of,58–60

belief, 163–65Bergson, H., 2 Boethius, 83, 86n2

causal reciprocity, 15–19, 21change, 1–5; causes of, 10–16; and

creation, 2–3; dilemma of, 3–5;substrate of, 5–8

choice, 178; freedom of, 176–80,180–86, 191–93, 231; object of,189–93

concepts, 157, 161; closed and open,101–5

demiurge, 69determinism, 194–95Descartes, xi, 3, 132Dewey, John, 15, 217–18divine Ideas, 63–73; 128–29

essence, 34–35, 44–45; distinct fromexistence, 48–49

ethical intellectualism, 233–34; vs.practicalism, 233–34

ethical mean, 227–28evil, 38, 155exemplarism, 70–71existence, 34–35, 43, 45, 47–48, 57; as

end, 85existential import, 46existentialism, xvi, 195

final cause, 13–29; Aristotle’sarguments for, 13–15; as cause ofcauses, 21; as mind-dependent,15–16, 25–29; in nature, 16–19;reciprocity with efficient cause, 19,21; as self-contradictory, 19–20

flux: opposed to change, 1–2;philosophy of, 1–2

form, 55–58; in change, 10–19; as end, 13–19; Platonic concept of,73–80

Index

genus, 7–8; rule of, 223good, x, 82–86, 195–201, 217–24;

contrasted with truth, 83;fundamental to Aquinas’s ethics,232; and mathematics, 83–84;similarity to truth, 82–83

Hegel, 54,121; criticisms of, xii–xiv,123–24

immanent activity, 148; vs. transientactivity, 48–50

intellect, 137, 141, 144, 147, 150, 153;and abstraction, 151–52; active andpassive power of, 150–51; as holdinga middle place, 144; as limited,152–53; neither substance nor act ofthe brain, 141–42; and the order ofknowledge; relation to will, 175–80,187–201

intentionality, 135–36; of truthpredicate, 169–70

James, William, 15, 217–18judgment, 157, 99–101; as bearer of

truth, 163–65; and existence, 100; asterminating counsel, 176; and truth,157–59

Kant, xii, 47–48, 51–53, 62, 121–22

law, 27–29; natural, x, 232Leibniz, xvLocke, John, 9logical positivism, 210–13

matter, 9, 55; and genus, 67–68; andinfinite regress, 5–6; as ingenerableand incorruptible, 10; primary, 6–8

metaphysics, 31–32; as behind ethics,x–xi; as first science, ix–x;objections to, 31, 211–12; andspeculative sciences, 32–34

Moore, G. E., xiii, 208moral relativism, 207–8

moral skepticism, 216–17moral subjectivism, 208–10

objective falsehoods, 166–67

Parmenides, 3–4participation, 64–65, 69–71, 129–30;

two kinds of, 43Peirce, C.S., 218Plato, 34, 43, 64–66, 69, 73–80, 117,

134, 141, 207Plotinus, 90practical reason, 190practical syllogism, 190psychologism, 46–47, 162–63

Quine, W.V., 169

reason, 98–99, 190, 191; in ethics, 226right reason, 227–28Royce, J., 94Russell, B., 54, 93; and coherence

theory, 130n13

Sartre, J. P., 163simple apprehension, 99soul, 132–33; Aquinas’s difference with

Aristotle, 145–46; consistency ofAquinas’s view of, 131;immateriality of, 135–43; Platonicview of, 134–35; power vs. essenceof, 143–45; powers of, 146–48

St. Augustine, xii, xiv, 90,128, 152, 234;and the human end, 222–23

substrate, 5–6

teleology. See final causetranscendental turn, 52truth: bearer of, 97–99; categories of,

107-11; coherence theory of, 122–24;correspondence theory of, 122–24; asthe good of mind, 95–97, 105–6;knowledge of, 95–97; ontologicaland practical, 106–7; andpredication, 101–5; prior to

242 Index

goodness, 84; senses of, 109–10; andsimple apprehension, 92–93; strictlyin judgment, 94–95

universals: Aquinas’s view of, 124–30;and conceptualism, 120–24;definitions of views on, 115–16; andnominalism, 118–20; and Platonicrealism, 117–18

virtue, 224–226, 227–32

will: and choice, 177–80, 180–86; asintellectual appetite, 170–75;necessity in, 180–86, 189–202;reciprocity with intellect, 187–88; relation to intellect,175–80

Wittgenstein, L, 68

Index 243

Documents

Aquinas: A New Introduction