Spinoza, le spinozisme et les fondements de la sécularisation est un ouvrage dédié à la mémoire d’Emmanuel Levinas, dont l’auteur a été l’élève durant plusieurs années. Il vise, à travers une analyse d’ordre philosophique, historique, épistémologique et théologique, à mettre au jour les conditions d’émergence interrelatées du spinozisme et de la sécularisation. Pour ce faire, il souligne, entre autres, l’importance des polémiques anti-maimonidiennes, des débats sur les attributs divins, la substance, l’infini, du marranisme et de la Kabbale sur la (...) formation du spinozisme, ainsi que son rapport à la pensée contemporaine. Il mène une recherche interdisciplinaire devant permettre d’éclairer l’origine des difficultés théoriques que ce système philosophique présente. (shrink)

Spinoza, le spinozisme et les fondements de la sécularisation est un ouvrage dédié à la mémoire d’Emmanuel Levinas, dont l’auteur a été l’élève durant plusieurs années. Il vise, à travers une analyse d’ordre philosophique, historique, épistémologique et théologique, à mettre au jour les conditions d’émergence interrelatées du spinozisme et de la sécularisation. Il présente une recherche interdisciplinaire devant permettre d’éclairer l’origine des difficultés théoriques que ce système philosophique présente. Ce volume est le premier d’une pentalogie consacrée à Spinoza et au (...) Spinozisme, dont les autres paraîtront dans la même collection. Spinoza, Spinozism and the Foundations of Secularization is a book dedicated to the memory of Emmanuel Levinas, whose author was a student for several years. It aims, through a philosophical, historical, epistemological and theological analysis, to bring to light the interrelated conditions of emergence of Spinozism and secularization. It presents interdisciplinary research to shed light on the origin of the theoretical difficulties that this philosophical system presents. This volume is the first of a pentalogy devoted to Spinoza and Spinozism, the others of which will appear in the same collection. (shrink)

Cet article concerne l’application de la méthode « dianoématique », ou « étude des doctrines », dans le commentaire important de Martial Gueroult aux deux premières parties de l’ Éthique de Spinoza. Gueroult met l’accent sur deux affirmations distinctes dans les deux volumes de ce commentaire. La première affirmation, tirée du premier volume, est que Spinoza adopte une version du monisme dans la première partie de l’ Éthique selon laquelle Dieu, en tant que substance infinie, consiste en une union d’une (...) infinité de substances distinctes constituées chacune d’un attribut unique. La deuxième affirmation, tirée du deuxième volume, est que Spinoza est contraint, du fait de ce qu’il écrit dans la deuxième partie de l’ Éthique, d’accepter la conclusion qu’il existe deux types de «parallélisme» différents entre les attributs divins. (shrink)

Quelle place l'infinité divine occupe-t-elle dans la philosophie cartésienne? Peut-elle éclairer la situation de Descartes dans le temps long de l'histoire de la métaphysique ou révéler une béance toujours sise au coeur de son concept? Loin d'être une innovation cartésienne, l'infinité de Dieu constitue une conquête de l'histoire de la métaphysique, qui, en prenant pour objet le concept d'ens, s'est approprié Dieu sous la figure de l'ens infinitum. Et parce que la philosophia prima des Meditationes a pour premier principe le (...) cogito, l'idea infiniti ne peut que s'ordonner à l'univocité de la cogitatio et se soumettre au régime métaphysique de la représentation, qu'elle prolonge et accomplit. Mais Descartes confère à l'infini une autre détermination, qui contredit sa portée métaphysique : car, en toute rigueur, l'infini ne se donne pas tant en une représentation, qu'il n'excède toute représentation pour la conditionner. Ainsi Descartes démontre-t-il l'existence de Dieu au moyen du nom qui énonce d'abord sa transcendance à toute démonstration ; ainsi l'idée d'infini est-elle plus "lourde" que l'ego qui la porte et qu'elle creuse d'une antériorité à jamais irrécupérable. Descartes a donc associé en un même nom - l'infini - une détermination métaphysique et une détermination non métaphysique de Dieu. Mais cette double détermination traduit l'ambiguïté même de l'infini dans l'histoire de la métaphysique, s'il est vrai que c'est aussi bien comme infini que Dieu y est entré (Duns Scot) et qu'il en est sorti (Levinas). L'infinité divine peut dès lors accomplir chez Descartes la sortie de la métaphysique depuis la métaphysique elle-même, puisqu'elle nomme l'au-delà de la représentation apparu depuis la représentation : la métaphysique se trouverait alors contemporaine de sa fin, qui toujours en sourdine la double et la défait. En la déployant sans nuances, Descartes fait accéder à sa visibilité la plus haute l'ambiguïté de l'infini : sa métaphysique en acquiert une ambivalence à laquelle nous n'avons pas voulu demeurer aveugle. D. A. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:69. A PROPOS D'UNE DIFFICULTE LOGIQUE DANS L'ARGUMENT DE CLEANTHE L'argument de Cléanthe ("the Argument from Design", c'est-à-dire la preuve de Dieu par le dessein du monde) se fonde sur le principe que "des effets semblables prouvent des causes semblables" pour montrer que la ressemblance entre le dessein du monde et le dessein des machines amène la conclusion que la cause du dessein du monde ressemble (...) à l'intelligence humaine. Dans l'attaque de Philon contre cet argument, nous trouvons deux passages dans les Parties IV et V consacrés aux difficultés qui proviennent de l'anthropomorphisme de Cléanthe. Et le raisonnement par l'absurde de Philon prend pour point de départ cette conception anthropomorphique de Dieu: Et que dites-vous des découvertes d'anatomie, de chimie, de botanique?... - Ce ne sont certes pas là des objections, répondit Cléanthe; elles découvrent seulment de nouveaux exemples d'art et d'industrie. C'est encore l'image de l'esprit que réfléchissent sur nous d'innombrables objets. - Ajoutez: un esprit pareil à l'esprit humain, dit Philon. - Je n'en connais point d'autre, répondit Cléanthe. - Et plus it est pareil, mieux cela vaut? insista Philon. - Bien sûr, dit Cléanthe. (p. 53) La première étape de son argument s'ensuit: Eh bien, Cléanthe, dit Philon, avec un air d'allégresse et de triomphe, remarquez les conséquences. Premièrement, par cette méthode de raisonnement, vous renoncez à toute prétention à l'infinité en aucun des attributs de la Divinité. Car, puisque la cause doit seulement être proportionnée à l'effet, et que l'effet, pour autant qu'il tombe sous notre connaissance, n'est pas infini, quel droit avons-nous, selon vos suppositions, de prêter cet attribut à l'Etre divin? Vous soutiendrez encore 70. qu'en l'éloignant à ce point de toute similitude avec les créatures humaines, nous donnons dans l'hypothèse la plus arbitraire, et, en même temps, affaiblissons toutes les preuves de son existence. (p. 53) On pourrait croire que l'argument de Philon est inadmissible, soit à cause de son pyrrhonisme, soit à cause de sa doctrine sur la causalité (celle de Hume lui-même) qui n'admet pas la connaissance a priori des causes. Mais en fait l'argument déployé par Philon ne représente pas sa propre position (et n'entre donc pas en conflit avec son pyrrhonisme), et en tant qu'il fait appel à la causalité, n'est point valable. Pour voir qu'il en est ainsi, on n'a qu'à regarder sa phrase préliminaire "par cette méthode du raisonnement" ainsi que la phrase "selon vos suppositions" qui montrent que cette première étape s'ensuit de la position de Cléanthe. Pourquoi Philon met-il en avant cet argument? Ou plutôt, qu'a dit Cléanthe pour amener Philon à mettre cet argument à son compte? La response se trouve dans la version de Cléanthe de la preuve de Dieu par le dessein, dans la Partie II: "Puis donc que les effets se ressemblent entre eux, nous sommes conduits à inférer, d'après toutes les règles de l'analogie, que les causes se ressemblent également, et que l'auteur de la nature est quelque peu semblable à l'esprit de l'homme, quoique doué de facultés bien plus vastes, proportionnées à la grandeur de l'oeuvre qu'il a exécutée. Par cet argument a posteriori, et par cet argument seul, nous prouvons à la fois l'existence d'une Divinité et sa similitude avec l'esprit et l'intelligence de l'homme." (p. 26 les italiques sont de moi) C'est donc Cléanthe qui peu après le début voudrait que, dans ces cas où seul l'effet se fait observer, nous devions proportionner la cause à l'effet. 71. On pourrait m'objecter que je n'ai pas encore montré que l'argument de Philon ne l'engage pas à poser un Dieu fini qui conviendrait à l'effet fini (le dessein du monde), que son propos que "la cause devrait être proportionnée à l... (shrink)

The perpetual secretary of the Berlin Academy Johann Heinrich Samuel Formey is best known as a populariser of Christian Wolff’s doctrines. As of Formey’s activity in the Berlin Academy, scholars have mostly emphasized his role in the controversy over monads with Leonhard Euler, while overlooking other interesting contributions Formey presented in the “speculative philosophy” class of the Academy. In this paper, I analyse two articles Formey published in 1747 on the Mémoires de l’Académie de Berlin, namely the Preuves de (...) l’existence de Dieu, ramenées aux notions communes and the Examen de la preuve qu’on tire des fins de la nature, pour établir l’existence de Dieu. In these texts, Formey presents some of Wolff’s methodological and metaphysical ideas, in an implicit dialogue with other members of the Academy – in particular, with the president Pierre-Louis Moreau de Maupertuis – who were also interested in metaphysics and the philosophical method. Formey reworks the Wolffian arguments as to make them more accessible, in order to promote an open confrontation over core philosophical questions. Far from adopting a controversial tone, Formey’s attitude is rather conciliatory: any disagreement, as he thinks, can be easily settled once the true method for philosophizing is made available to everybody. (shrink)

Dès l'aube de la pensée philosophique en occident, l'Ecole d'Elèe souligne le caractère absolu de l'être. Découverte des plus importante, qui ne cessera d'exercer une profonde influence sur tout le cours de la réflexion philosophique. Platon s'attache à réhabiliter l'intelligibilité du multiple : il y a « des idées » subsistantes; et Aristote dégage l'intelligibilité du multiple matériel : il y a « des catégories » obtenues au moyen de l'abstraction. L'un et l'autre s'efforce d'y découvrir un ordre : rapports (...) de participation, selon Platon ; rapports de causalité, selon Aristote. Platon se dégage de la tenaille de Parménide, — ou l'être, ou l'absurde néant, — en distinguant deux néants : l'un, qui est le contraire de l'être, est absurde ; mais l'autre, qui est l'altérité, est parfaitement intelligible, une idée, un être véritable. Ce non-être relatif, à savoir l'altéritê, est aussi universel que l'être correspondant, à savoir ceci, cela, êtres corrélatifs. Pour autant, l'unité fondamentale du monde des idées est une unité d'ordre, une multiplicité, et non plus l'unicité à la manière de Parménide. Il est vrai que de toute son âme Platon aspire à une unité suprême et unique, mais il ne réussit pas à l'intégrer techniquement dans son système. Aristote, qui pose carrément en principe que l'être a des sens multiples et irréductibles, notamment les catégories, découvre, lui aussi, un ordre qui unit les catégories entre elles, de même qu'un ordre qui unit toutes les réalités substantielles en les reliant à un Premier Moteur : il est vrai que cette dernière influence ne peut pénétrer jusqu'au fond de la réalité, puisque celle-ci est autre chose que du mouvement, et que par conséquent cette réalité, fondamentalement non unifiée, demeure fondamentalement inintelligible. Il est intéressant de rapprocher de ces deux systèmes « essentialistes » celui de Hegel, dont le mouvement dialectique part de l'être et se porte immédiatement vers le non-être correspondant, considéré comme intelligible : l'être s'en trouve radicalement « relative » . Aussi bien, c'est dans l'élaboration ultérieure de l'être qualifié, quidditatif, que Hegel cherche, mais en vain, l'idée absolue. Plotin réussit à formuler nettement le problème du relatif et de l'absolu et à s'orienter vers une solution : il souligne le caractère radicalement relatif de la réalité relative, ce qui implique le caractère radicalement indépendant de la réalité absolue. Comme il continue à entendre l'être à la manière essentialiste de Platon et d'Aristote, il va de soi qu'il ne lui est pas possible d'identifier l'être et l'absolu : la réalité suprême, l'Un, est donc au delà de l'être, de même qu'il est au delà de l'intelligence, dont l'objet propre est l'être. En distinguant la quiddité et l'existence, Avicenne introduit, à côté de la quiddité, une nouvelle dimension où pourra se mouvoir l'intelligence. Néanmoins c'est sur la quiddité qu'il met l'accent : considérée en elle-même et indépendamment de toute rapport virtuel ou actuel avec l'existence, la quiddité à un sens complet ; au contraire, l'existence ne se conçoit que se rapportant à la quiddité. C'est du côté de la quiddité que se trouve l'absolu. S. Thomas reprend la distinction avicennienne, mais en la retournant : car c'est à l'esse qu'il accorde la primauté : l'esse est acte, la quiddité est puissance ; l'esse est la perfection fondamentale de tout, à laquelle toute réalité participe. C'est dans la ligne de l'esse que se trouve l'absolu. Heidegger fait observer que depuis Platon la philosophie se trouve sur une mauvaise voie : c'est toujours de l « étant » qu'elle s'est occupée, c'est-à-dire, de l'être qualifié, tandis qu'elle a négligé l'étude de l'être lui-même. Sans doute a-t-il raison pour une bonne part, mais il ignore que S. Thomas a élaboré une philosophie authentique de Yesse, que beaucoup sont trop enclins à ne pas considérer. Comment justifier le point de départ et le point de vue d'une philosophie de l'être ? Où les trouver ? Non pas dans quelque secteur particulier où Ion rencontrerait l'être pur, mais dans tout secteur, dans toute expérience. C'est sur le fait qu'il faut s'appuyer, sur le fait dont l'homme de science déclare qu'il est plus fort que le Lord Maire de Londres. L'homme de science se borne à noter les faits et à en chercher la régularité ; le philosophe s'attache à découvrir la raison de la solidité absolue des faits et à dégager ce que cela implique. Lorsqu'on a exposé tout ce qu'est une réalité donnée, tout ce que sa quiddité comporte, on n'a nullement fini de dire ce que cette réalité contient d'intelligible, puisqu'on n'a pas encore déclaré que cette réalité est, qu'elle existe. Sans doute, Kant est-il d'avis que l'intelligibilité de cent thalers existants ne dépasse en rien celle de cent thalers possibles, mais il est pourtant certain que le jugement d'existence, qui est un jugement, est affaire d'intelligence, d'intelligibilité : il manifeste d'emblée la solidité irréfragable de l'être ; rien ne pourra plus jamais effacer ce qui a été et, désormais, absolument tout doit en tenir compte. C'est cela même qui est à la base de la connaissance vraie, à savoir de celle qui saisit « ce qui est ». Ceci ne contredit en rien la relativité des faits : c'est précisément le fait qui nous révèle l'absolu, c'est le relatif qui se montre comme étant absolument relatif. Tout comme c'est de la situation dans laquelle je me trouve que j'ai conscience et que c'est donc en elle que je domine et transcende la relativité qui est propre à cette situation. L'absolu que je saisis est celui qui me révèle le relatif. Mon point de vue, qui n'est qu'humain, n'est jamais celui de Dieu : cependant il contient une valeur d'absolu. Et la donnée qui m'est présentée n'est pas l'être divin : cependant elle manifeste une signification d'absolu, à savoir la signification d'être. Dans cette signification, tout coïncide, car ce qui ne s'y trouverait pas, serait pur néant. Tout se rencontre dans une identité fondamentale. C'est à raison de l'être qu'il contient que la réalité parle à l'intelligence, comme aussi à la vie appetitive : c'est grâce à sa signification d'être, que la réalité peut m'être « présente ». Aussi bien, pour y répondre, pour résoudre les problèmes qu'elle pose, il n'est que de s'en approcher et de se laisser guider par elle. On peut montrer que la signification absolue d'être que manifeste toute donnée exige un principe réel unique qui fonde toute réalité. Ce principe ne peut se concevoir, ni sur le mode d'une substance, ni sur celui d'une cause particulière, car l'une et l'autre sont essentiellement relatives. Il ne peut s'entendre que comme l'Absolu, dégagé de tout rapport : si toutes choses sont intégralement dépendantes de cet Absolu, lui-même ne peut dépendre de rien et il garde nécessairement son indépendance totale. Il apparaît clairement qu'il ne sert à rien de se mouvoir, « horizontalement », le long d'une série de causes dans l'espoir d'en découvrir une, par exemple la première de la série, qui permettrait davantage de se porter, « verticalement », vers l'Absolu ; car du fini à l'Infini la distance demeure partout la même et la difficulté est toujours égale : le passage du fini à l'Infini est unique et il exige d'être examiné et justifié avec soin. L'argument en question est d'une nature spéciale : il s'agit d'atteindre l'Infini à partir du fini et, de plus, au moyen d'une intelligence finie. Aussi bien, n'atteignons-nous jamais immédiatement l'Infini en lui-même, mais uniquement dans le fini et tel que le fini nous le révèle. Donc c'est tout en pensant le fini qu'il nous faut penser l'Infini, à savoir comme exigence fondamentale de ce fini. C'est en ce sens qu'on dit que de l'Infini au fini il y a relation logique. Cependant, par là-même nous comprenons que nulle relation réelle ne peut lier l'Infini au fini. Ceci ne signifie nullement que l'Absolu divin serait entièrement isolé et loin de toute réalité finie ; mais tout au contraire, que Dieu est plus près de la créature qu'aucun terme relatif ne peut jamais l'être du terme qui lui correspond : l'Absolu créateur, souverainement indépendant et transcendant, est tout aussi parfaitement immanent, c'est-à-dire toujours intimement et activement présent à ce qu'il pose dans le réel. (shrink)

Résumé — L’article examine tout d’abord les problèmes, chez Hegel, de la preuve en général et de l’existence de Dieu en général. Puis il examine les différentes formulations des preuves de l’existence de Dieu telles qu’elles sont reprises par Hegel, et notamment celles de la preuve ontologique. L’hypothèse est la suivante : pour Hegel, le Dieu de la religion se fait exister processuellement à l’encontre de ses formes d’existence déficientes. Par là cependant, il se manifeste lui-même, rendant (...) le discours des preuves superflu. Les trois versions de la preuve ontologique – « anselmienne », « kantienne » et « hégélienne » – présentent les trois modes de relation de Dieu comme sujet avec l’objectivité : une unité présupposée, puis niée, et enfin établie comme le résultat d’un processus. Les preuves de l’existence de Dieu, qui restent « représentatives », n’ont pas pour fin d’établir qu’il y a un Dieu en dehors de la pensée, mais de penser Dieu de manière autofondée et donc « vraie ».— The article first examines the problem of the proof in general and that of the existence of God in general for Hegel. It then examines the various formulations of the proofs of the existence of God as they are resumed by Hegel, in particular those of the ontological proof. The hypothesis is the following : for Hegel, the God of the religion makes himself existing in a process against his deficient forms of existence. There however, it manifests itself, making the proofs superfluous. The three versions of the ontological proof – « Anselmian », « Kantian » and « Hegelian » – represent three modes of God’s relation as subject with objectivity : a unity presupposed, then denied, and finally established as the result of a process. The proofs of the existence of God, which remain « representative », do not aim to establish that there is a God outside of thought, but to conceive God in a self-justified and thus « true » way. (shrink)

Le chapitre 4 du premier livre des Mémorables de Xénophon était quasiment un texte canonique pour la théologie des premiers stoïciens : il contient la première version de « la preuve par la providence » (the Argument from Design) et constitue un témoignage capital et négligé concernant la théologie de Socrate. Les idées qui y sont exposées ne dérivent en effet pas de Diogène d'Apollonie, dont le rôle dans l'histoire de la pensée téléologique a été largement surestimé. Je défends (...) la thèse que le texte du Contre les savants IX, 88-110 de Sextus Empiricus constitue un témoignage unique qui permet de comprendre comment les premiers stoïciens se sont efforcés d'extraire une preuve rigoureuse de l'existence de dieu du chapitre de Xénophon ainsi que du Timée de Platon (29b-30b), et comment ils ont ensuite corrigé leurs syllogismes pour les soustraire aux réfutations parodiques (parabolai) d'Alexinus. On peut ainsi observer la manière dont les stoïciens ont forgé leurs armes théologiques à partir de la tradition dont ils prétendaient être les héritiers. (shrink)

Le projet d'E. Lévinas — manifester l'intelligibilité de la transcendance — le conduit à rencontrer, comme une figure exemplaire, l'expression cartésienne de l'extérionté, le thème de l'idée de l'infini. Jusqu'où va cette similitude ? Selon Lévinas, la responsabilité — pour autrui — inscrit déjà la transcendance, comme relation avec un au-delà, dans l'immanence à soi de la conscience, en tant que son en deçà, sa condition. « Par suite, l'idée de l'infini est le mode d'être, l'infinition même de l'infini ». (...) Ici apparaît la divergence : le substantialisme cartésien ne permet pas d'affirmer avec Lévinas que : « Il n'y a pas d'idée de Dieu ou Dieu est sa propre idée ». E. Lévinas' philosophical attempt to make clear the intelligibility of transcendence leads him to Descartes' version of the concept of metaphysical exteriority, i.e. to his theme of the idea of the infinite. How far does this resemblance reach ? According to Lévinas, the responsibility — for — others already places transcendence, as a relation with a beyond, within the immanence in oneself which characterizes consciousness, as its condition. Consequently, « the idea of infinite is the mode, of existence, the infinition itself of the infinite ». Here, the difference points out : cartesian substantialism does not allow to assert, as Lévinas does, that « either there is no idea of God, or God is the idea of himself ». (shrink)

Brentano, dans son ouvrage consacré à la question de l’existence de Dieu, intitulé Vom Dasein Gottes, anticipe les thèmes principaux avec lesquels la philosophie analytique de la religion est aux prises. Non seulement l’ouvrage anticipe ces questions, mais il le fait selon des méthodes, et notamment un contrôle logique et une proximité avec les sciences qui permettent de parler d’une filiation, non seulement thématique, mais aussi méthodologique, entre Brentano et la philosophie analytique contemporaine de la religion lorsqu’elle aborde la (...) question de l’existence divine. (shrink)

This study considers Newton's views on space and time with respect to some important ontologies of substance in his period. Specifically, it deals in a philosophico-historical manner with his conception of substance, attribute, existence, to actuality and necessity. I show how Newton links these “features” of things to his conception of God's existence with respect of infinite space and time. Moreover, I argue that his ontology of space and time cannot be understood without fully appreciating how it relates to the (...) nature of Divine existence. In order to establish this, the ontology embodied in Newton's theory of predication is analysed, and shown to be different from the presuppositions of the ontological argument. From the historical point of view Gassendi's influence is stressed, via the mediation of Walter Charleton. Furthermore, Newton's thought on these matters is contrasted with Descartes's and Spinoza's. In point of fact, in his earliest notebook Newton recorded observations on Descartes's version of the ontological argument. Soon, however, he was to oppose the Cartesian conception of the actuality of Divine existence by means of arguments similar to those of Gassendi. Lastly, I suggest that the nature and extent of Henry More's influence on Newton's conception of how God relates to absolute space and time bears further examination. (shrink)

L’objectif de cet article est de proposer une analyse de deux conceptions distinctes de la causalité chez Spinoza. Selon la première la nature-dieu serait la cause directe de toute action qui a lieu au niveau des choses finies; tandis que, selon la seconde toute action finie ferait partie d’une chaîne infinie de causes qui est répandue dans la durée. Je montre que cette causalité-ci n’est ni illusoire ni simplement derivative, contre les suggestions de plusieurs travaux récents sur Spinoza. En deuxième (...) lieu nous proposons un modèle pour la causalité consécutive qui assure la possibilité que les êtres finis puissent fonctionner comme des causes adéquates au sens spinoziste dans le champ physique. Ici l’analyse s’oppose à plusieurs chercheurs qui soutiennent qu’il existe une rupture entre les attributs de la pensée et de l’étendue dans le système spinoziste.This study addresses the problem of analyzing two distinct conceptions of causality in Spinoza. According to the first god-nature is the direct cause of every action which occurs at the level of finite things; while, according to the second , every finite action would be part of an infinite chain of causes extended into duration. I show that sequential causality is neither illusory nor simply derivative, contrary to the suggestions made by several recent studies of Spinoza. Secondly, I offer a model for sequential causality which assures the possibility that finite beings may function as adequate causes within the physical field. Here my analysis is opposed to those commentators who argue for a rupture in Spinoza between the attributes of thought and extension. (shrink)

Erhard Weigel (1625-1699), mathematician from Jena, developed within the context of his efforts for a mathematically oriented universal science and for a methodologically exact natural theology also a mathematical proof of God, which should prove God’s existence irrefutably and with the highest degree of certainty. Leibniz, as is known a disciple of Weigel himself, was already acquainted with the proof ’s earliest drafts from the 1670’s on and referred to almost all of Weigel’s publications on the proof of God in (...) his writings, which shows his never ceasing interest on this topic. The article presents the rationale of Weigel’s proof of God as well as the central aspects of Leibniz’s in part assenting while also in part critical considerations to it and gives an outlook on the importance of the topic for Leibniz’s own development. (shrink)

Dans la lettre XXXII à Oldenburg, Spinoza affirme que l'esprit humain n'est que la puissance de la pensée divine, non en tant qu'elle est infinie et perçoit toute la nature, mais en tant qu'elle est finie et ne perçoit que le corps humain, ce qui fait de l'esprit humain « une partie de quelque entendement infini ». C'est à Pélucidation de ce « quelque entendement infini » qu'on travaille ici en montrant comment s'élaborent, dans l'Éthique, la doctrine de l'infinité des (...) attributs divins, puis la doctrine des modes infinis qui, au plan ontologique sinon au plan éthique, implique qu'on s'interroge sur la manière dont se comporte l'attribut de la pensée par rapport à l'infinité des autres attributs. On suggère enfin l'importance de cette enquête, tant pour la compréhension de la formule spinoziste de la connaissance que pour la compréhension de la formule spinoziste du salut. In letter XXXII to Oldenburg, Spinoza asserts that the human mind is but the power of divine thought, not as being infinite and encompassing nature, but as being finite and encompassing only the human body, which makes the human mind « a part of some infinite understanding ». We labor here for the clarification of this part of « some infinite understanding » by showing how, in Spinoza's Ethics, the doctrine of the infinity of divine attributes, then the doctrine of infinite modes are elaborated. The latter at the ontological level but not at the ethical level, implies that we question the way the attribute of thought functions with regard to the infinity of the other attributes. Lasty we underline the importance of this investigation, both for the understanding of the Spinozan formula for knowledge and for the understanding of his formula for salvation. (shrink)

Résumé — Alors que, pour Thomas d’Aquin et Gilles de Rome, Dieu peut ajouter à la création une série infinie d’espèces de perfection croissante sans compromettre sa transcendance et sans contrevenir aux lois de la logique, Henri de Gand et Godefroid de Fontaines développent des arguments puissants contre cette même idée, arguant notamment que la production d’une telle série impliquerait une infinité en acte d’idées en Dieu. L’article montre comment, dans son Quodlibet I, q. 2 où il expose et critique (...) systématiquement les arguments de Godefroid et d’Henri, Jacques de Viterbe renoue avec une position proche de celle de Thomas et Gilles.— While Thomas Aquinas and Giles of Rome believed that God could produce an infinite number of increasingly more perfect creatures without threatening his transcendence or breaching the laws of logic, Henry of Ghent and Godfrey of Fontaines argued against that belief, holding that such an ability on God’s part would entail the existence of an actual infinity of ideas in the divine intellect. One author who was to be influenced by Henry’s arguments was Godfrey of Fontaines whose views James of Viterbo refutes in Quodlibet I, q. 2. The article examines the detail of James’s arguments against Godfrey and in favor of the view, much like Thomas’ and Giles’, that God can add to the total amount of perfection in creation. (shrink)

Leibniz tries to prove God’s possibility on the basis of absolutely positive and simple perfections. I primarily want to show, how these controversial perfections can be made comprehensible by working out their foundations in Plato’s theory of ideas. After having concentrated on the Cartesian proof and Leibniz’s criticism in the first part of my paper, I now focus on his own version of the proof and its Platonic background. First, I discuss the structure, the advantages and disadvantages of the famous (...) argument in “Quod ens perfectissimum existit” [1676]. Then I investigate his reasons for assuming absolutely positive and simple perfections by tracing them back to Platonic ideas, including the paradigmatic role of the kosmos noȇtos for the compossibility of essences in the regio idearum. I also consider in which sense Plato’s theory of ideas already preforms the structure of ontological proofs, and how it tells against the assumption of a strictly univocal meaning of existence. (shrink)

Definitions Axioms Prop. I. Substance is by nature prior to its modifications Prop. II. Two substances, whose attributes are different, have nothing in common Prop III. Things, which have nothing in common, cannot be one the cause of the other Prop. IV. Two or more distinct things are distinguished one from the other either by the difference of the attributes of the substance, or by the differences of their modifications Prop. V. There cannot exist in the universe two or more (...) substances having the same nature or attribute Prop. VI. One substance cannot be produced by another substance Prop. VII. Existence belongs to the nature of substance Prop. VIII. Every substance is necessarily infinite Prop. IX. The more reality or being a thing has, the greater the number of its attributes Prop. X. Each particular attribute of the one substance must be conceived through itself Prop. XI. God, or substance consisting of infinite attributes, of which each expresses eternal and infinite essentiality, necessarily exists Prop. XII. No attribute of substance can be conceived, from which it would follow that substance can be divided Prop. XIII. Substance absolutely infinite is indivisible Prop. XIV. Besides God no substance can be granted or conceived Prop. XV. Whatsoever is, is in God, and without God nothing can be, or be conceived Prop. XVI. From the necessity of the divine nature must follow an infinite number of things in infinite ways--that is, all things which fall within the sphere of infinite intellect Prop. XVII. God acts solely by the laws of his own nature and is not constrained by anyone Prop. XVIII. God is the indwelling and not the transient cause of all things Prop. XIX. God and all the attributes of God are eternal Prop. XX. The existence of God and his essence are one and the same Prop. XXI. All things, which follow from the absolute nature of any attribute of God, must always exist and be infinite, or, in other words, are eternal and infinite through the said attribute Prop.. (shrink)

It is often thought that, although Spinoza develops a bold and distinctive conception of God (the unique substance, or Natura Naturans, in which all else inheres and which possesses infinitely many attributes, including extension), the arguments that he offers which purport to prove God’s existence contribute nothing new to natural theology. Rather, he is seen as just another participant in the seventeenth century revival of the ontological argument initiated by Descartes and taken up by Malebranche and Leibniz among (...) others. That this is the case is both puzzling and unfortunate. It is puzzling because although Spinoza does offer an ontological proof for the existence of God, he also offers three other non‐ontological proofs. It is unfortunate because these other non‐ontological proofs are both more convincing and more interesting than his ontological proof. In this paper, I offer reconstructions and assessments of all of Spinoza’s arguments and argue that Spinoza’s metaphysical rationalism and his commitment to something like a Principle of Sufficient Reason are the driving force behind Spinoza’s non‐ontological arguments. (shrink)

The aim of this paper is to clarify Spinoza’s views on some of the most fundamental issues of his metaphysics: the nature of God’s attributes, the nature of existence and eternity, and the relation between essence and existence in God. While there is an extensive literature on each of these topics, it seems that the following question was hardly raised so far: What is, for Spinoza, the relation between God’s existence and the divine attributes? Given Spinoza’s claims that there are (...) intimate connections between God’s essence and his existence – “God’s essence and his existence are one and the same”(E1p20) – and between God’s essence and the attributes – “By attribute I understand what the intellect perceives of substance, as constituting its essence” (E1d4), we would naturally expect that by transitivity, there is a significant relation between God’s existence and the attributes. Yet, as far as I know, there is little, if any, attempt in the existing literature to explicate such a relation, and it is one of my aims of this study to both raise the question and answer it. Eventually, I will argue that for Spinoza God is nothing but existence, and that the divine attributes are just fundamental kinds of existence, or, what is the same, as I will later argue, the intellect’s most fundamental and adequate conceptions of existence. In the first part of the paper I provide some background for Spinoza’s brief discussion in the TTP of God’s name and essence by studying the claims of Maimonides in the Guide of the Perplexed that God’s true essence is necessary existence, and that this essence is denoted by the ineffable Hebrew name of God, the Tetragrammaton (YHVH). In the second part of the paper I point out similar claims Spinoza presents in the TTP, and show how they respond to and echo Maimonides’ discussion in the Guide. In the third part, I examine Spinoza’s apparently conflicting claims in the Ethics about the relationship between God’s essence and existence. In some places Spinoza claims that God’s essence and existence are strictly identical (E1p10: “God’s essence his existence are one and the same”), but in other passages he makes the apparently much more modest claim that God’s essence involves existence (E1d1, E1p7d and E1p11d), which may lead one to believe that there is more to God’s essence than mere existence. I show that Spinoza’s understanding of the relation denoted by the Latin ‘involvit’ is consistent with the strict identification of essence and existence in God, and that Spinoza identifies God’s essence with self-necessitated existence, or eternity. Indeed, Spinoza’s understanding of eternity [aeternitas] as self-necessitated existence (E1d8) is one of the very few Spinozistic concepts that has no trace in Descartes. In this part I will also solve the long-standing problem of the sense in which the infinite modes can be called ‘eternal.’ In the fourth part I turn to the relation between the divine attributes and God’s existence and argue that, for Spinoza, the attributes are self-sufficient and adequate conceptions of existence. Finally, I will attempt to explain what brought Spinoza to deify existence. -/- Part I: “In that Day shall God be One, and his Name One”- Maimonides on God’s Name and Essence. -/- 1.1 Before we delve into the texts, let me suggest a few distinctions between various views on the issue of the relation between essence and existence in God. The view I suspect both Maimonides and Spinoza subscribe to can be termed the divine essence-existence Identity Thesis. -/- Identity Thesis (IT): God’s essence is existence and nothing but existence. We should distinguish the Identity Thesis from the much more common view according to which God’s essence contains existence, or (which I take to be roughly the same) that existence is one of the properties or perfections which constitute God’s essence. The latter view allows for the possibility (though it does not demand) that there is more to God’s essence than bare existence (e.g., God’s essence may include omniscience, omnipotence, etc.). I will term this view the divine essence-existence Containment Thesis. (shrink)

Moïse Maïmonide (1168-1204) a combattu avec acharnement l’idée de la corporéité divine, car elle est contraire à la proclamation de l’existence d’un Dieu unique, la croyance fondamentale du peuple d’Israël. D’autre part, bien que la religion demande que l’on admette la création dans le temps, l’éternité du monde est la seule preuve philosophique de l’existence divine. Ces convictions, acquises dans sa jeunesse sous l’influence de l’orthodoxie almohade, sont clairement exprimées dans son Mishnéh Torah. C’est en raison des critiques (...) acerbes des dirigeants rabbanites qu’elles le sont beaucoup moins dans le Guide des Égarés, comme le montrent les brouillons autographes. De plus, une note manuscrite, écrite dans sa vieillesse sur son exemplaire personnel d’un autre de ses livres, prouve que Maïmonide n’avait pas changé d’avis en ce qui concerne l’éternité du monde. (shrink)

Je m'accorde en général à la thèse de Lennon suivant laquelle Locke aurait admis certains des arguments de Gassendi sur la distinction entre espace et corps ou matière, mais rejeté l'engagement ontologique impliqué par l'existence sui generis d'un espace absolu, distinct de l'étendue corporelle. Il semble raisonnable de concéder que l'analyse de l'espace chez le Locke de la maturité se développe en parallèle à la doctrine révisée des néo-gassendistes sur certains points essentiels: l'espace s'analyse en connexions de distance et de (...) capacité entre éléments solides; le pur espace est une idée abstraite obtenue par généralisation à partir de relations observées; et, comme telle, cette idée représente des connexions potentielles ou imaginaires entre composants matériels analogues aux corps de la perception sensible. Je suis d'accord avec Lennon pour admettre comme sources possibles pour de telles révisions la répugnance de Descartes et des cartésiens à concevoir un infini positif dans tout autre cas que celui des attributs de Dieu, et corrélativement l'analyse cartésienne du lieu et de la distance comme relatifs aux coordonnées géométriques abstraites de l'observateur. Malgré cette influence, Locke n'a de cesse de condamner la doctrine cartésienne de la substance matérielle, dans la mesure où elle ramène les conjuncta des attributs matériels à la pure étendue comme substrat, parce qu'il en résulterait confusion et paralogismes dans l'usage des catégories cosmologiques. (shrink)

Loin de pouvoir être réduit à son acception contemporaine, notamment heideggérienne, le concept de finitude est un concept traditionnel. Tel est le constat qui anime cette recherche dont l'objectif est de mettre au jour certaines de ses figures dans l'histoire de la pensée. Il s'agit, en évitant toute interprétation préconçue, d'étudier, sans prétendre à l'exhaustivité, comment ce concept, d'abord présent de façon explicite dans la pensée chrétienne des premiers siècles, se renouvelle ensuite tout au long de l'histoire de la pensée. (...) Le concept de finitude apparaît inauguralement chez Grégoire de Nysse, le théologien fondamental de l'infinité divine, pour qui " le fini " - to peratoumenon - est marqué par l'imperfection radicale de ne pas être Dieu. L'essence du fini est alors pensée grâce à la liaison platonicienne entre être et non-être. Appartenant au domaine général du fini, l'homme est en effet séparé de l'être véritable, mais il possède aussi un être propre : cette double caractéristique est une constante de l'approche chrétienne du fini, que Thomas d'Aquin exprime dans le concept d'ens finitum " participant " de l'être sans restriction dans sa restriction même. Refusant la discontinuité médiévale entre l'étant fini et son créateur, encore à leurs yeux présente chez Descartes, Leibniz et Spinoza renouvellent le concept de fini par leur ambition commune d'une rationalité infinie du fini, le premier au travers de la notion de " substance finie " dérivée de l'infini, le second par celle de " mode fini ", affection de la substance infinie. C'est contre de telles approches de la finitude que la philosophie critique réagit : " l'être raisonnable fini " de Kant est un sujet originaire et ne peut donc trouver aucun appui dans une rationalité infinie. L'idéalisme allemand entreprend de dépasser cette finitude kantienne à partir de Kant lui-même, en repensant la subjectivité transcendantale. La question du statut à accorder à la finitude - Endlichkeit - est au cœur des controverses qui l'animent. Heidegger reprendra d'abord, non sans hésitation, ce concept d'Endlichkeit, ancré dans la tradition occidentale, en parlant d'une " finitude du Dasein ", puis d'une " finitude de l'Être ", mais le poids historique d'un tel concept lui apparaîtra rapidement incompatible avec la nouveauté de sa pensée. Il ressort de cette étude que la question de la finitude consiste moins à se demander si l'homme est ou non un être fini que de déterminer de quelle finitude il est fini. Cette détermination est historiquement et philosophiquement décisive car elle concerne l'essence de l'homme, qui peut et doit " se connaître lui-même ". (shrink)

Le mémoire de Master 2. Soutenu en 2012 à Paris VIII sous la direction de Ch. Ramond. A study of Spinoza's account of "singular things" in the Ethics along with the classic French literature on the subject. -/- TABLE DES MATIÈRES: INTRODUCTION GENERALE (p. 3 – 4) PREMIERE PARTIE : DE LA NATURE DE DIEU AUX CHOSES SINGULIERES (p. 5 – 97) INTRODUCTION (p. 5 – 16) : DU RAPPORT DE L’INFINIMENT INFINI ET DU FINI. Pourquoi l’Éthique commence par l’infiniment (...) infini (Dieu). De l’immanentisme spinoziste. Abrégé de la réalité des choses singulières. Que celles-ci sont « en autre chose » et que cet autre est Dieu. Rôle important de la « cause de soi » dans l’ontologie spinoziste. Description de la démarche à suivre. PREMIER PAS (p. 17 – 39) : DE LA « CAUSE DE SOI ». Sur la définition de la « cause de soi ». De la méthode géométrique, et de la raison pour laquelle l’Éthique commence avec cette définition d’un Ens causa sui. Comment la notion de la « cause de soi » fonde l’idée de Dieu. Du monisme intégral chez Spinoza. De « l’esprit » du spinozisme et du déterminisme absolu. Du dédoublement de Dieu. INTERMEDE (p. 40– 60) : DE LA PROPOSITION 16 ET DES MODES INFINIS. Derechef, du dédoublement de Dieu, et en particulier, du renversement de la situation théorique du qualitatif et du quantitatif dans le système. Rôle de la Proposition 16 dans le système. Comment celle-ci scelle le passage de l’Ens causa sui à l’Ens effectus sui. Pourquoi I 16 est controversé. Comment I 16 nous apprend que Dieu ne produit nécessairement tout qu’à condition de produire de l’intelligible. De l’intellect de Dieu. Des modes, et des modes infinis en particulier. À propos du souci néoplatonicien. SECOND PAS (p. 61 – 91) : DE L’ESSENCE ET L’EXISTENCE DES CHOSES EN ÉI. Les Propositions 24 et 25. Comment Dieu scinde les essences des existences. Que toute chose finie est par essence dans un rapport intime avec sa cause infinie et verticale. Le Scolie de la Proposition 25. Sur la démonstration de la définition des « choses particulières ». Sur la controverse de l’attribut. Les Proposition 26 et 28. Comment les choses existent. De la causalité horizontale et de l’indéfini. Analyse de la notion de l’infini. De l’impossibilité de comprendre totalement l’existence d’une chose. Ce qui veut dire « Deus quatenus ». FIN DE LA PREMIERE PARTIE (p. 92 – 97) : DE LA NATURE NATURANTE ET LA NATURE NATUREE. Analyse du Scolie de la Proposition 29. De l’asymétrie du dédoublement de la Nature. Du salut spinoziste. DEUXIEME PARTIE : DE L’UNITE DES CHOSES SINGULIERES (p. 98 – 153) INTRODUCTION (p. 98 – 102) : DU RAPPORT DE L’ESSENCE A L’EXISTENCE. Ce qui se passe lorsqu’on quitte une Partie de l’Éthique. De ce qu’on a vu dans notre Première Partie. De la causalité verticale et de la causalité horizontale. Comment les essences peuvent-elles retrouver les existences, et vice versa. Description de la démarche à suivre. PREMIER PAS (p. 103 – 127) : DE L’ESSENCE Sur la définition d’une « essence ». De sa positivité. Que ce qu’un individu est par essence n’est que ce qu’il peut comprendre. De la Proposition 8, de son Corollaire et de son Scolie. Que l’existence de l’essence d’une chose ne se confond pas avec l’existence de la chose elle-même. Contre l’idée que les essences sont des choses « possibles ». Sur la notion des « grandeurs intensives » et sur la notion du « profondeur » chez Spinoza. SECOND PAS (p. 128 – 149) : DU CONATUS A LA PHYSIQUE Sur le concept du conatus. Du fait qu’il est l’essence actuelle d’une chose. Qu’on ne peut pas distinguer entre notre puissance ou effort pour persévérer dans l’être et l’être dans lequel nous nous persévérons. Du dynamisme introduit par le biais du conatus. Du rapport du quantitatif et du qualitatif, de l’idée des instants d’éternité, et du problème des essences qui sont instantanées. De la « petite physique » dans la Deuxième Partie de l’Éthique. Sur ses enjeux théoriques. Sur le matérialisme de Spinoza. De la définition de l’Individu comme rapport fixe de mouvement et de repos. Des corps simples, et que pour toute chose existante il n’est pas donné une essence. De la définition des choses singulières, et encore de la mutabilité ontologique de celles-ci. FIN DE LA DEUXIEME PARTIE (p. 150 – 153) : DE LA FINITUDE Sur l’Axiome de la Quatrième Partie de l’Éthique. Que certains rapports de mouvement et de repos en remplacent d’autres. Sur la raison pour laquelle tout rapport ne peut pas coexister. Que la destructibilité vient du biais de l’Étendue, et en particulier, du problème de l’espace. Que la chose singulière véhicule une tension entre la partie et le tout, et encore, du salut spinoziste. CONCLUSION GENERALE (p. 154 – 157) ENGLISH SUMMARY (p. 158 – 159) BIBLIOGRAPHIE (p. 160 – 165) TABLE DES MATIERES (p. 166 – 169). (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Spinoza’s Cosmological Argument in the EthicsMogens Lærke (bio)1. IntroductionIn this paper,1 i discuss Spinoza’s version of the cosmological argument for the existence of God (hereafter CA), specifically as it can be found in EIP11D3.2 By a CA, I broadly understand an argument which infers a posteriori the existence of an independent, necessary being, usually identified as God, from the experience that there exists some other being, (...) often oneself, whose existence is dependent on this independent, necessary being.3 Generally, I will speak of the dependence [End Page 439] relation that any CA relies on in terms of “existential dependence.” Such a dependence relation can be considered as causal, conceptual, or other. Much of the following will be a discussion of what kind of existential dependence relation governs Spinoza’s CA. The CA in EIP11D3, as we shall see, explicitly turns on a relation of “being in” (i.e. the fact that all finite things are in some way in God and that God is in himself). I argue however that the context of the argument makes this “in-relation” inseparable from both Spinoza’s theory of causation and his theory of power, and that it consequently must be understood in the context of what Alexandre Matheron dubbed Spinoza’s “ontology of power.”4The study attempts to fill a lacuna in the study of Spinoza’s arguments for the existence of God. Don Garret, in his classic “Spinoza’s Ontological Arguments,” and Martin Lin, in his “Spinoza’s Arguments for the Existence of God,” discuss Spinoza’s various arguments for the existence of God.5 None of them, however, consider the passage in EIP11D3 which contains Spinoza’s CA, but focus exclusively on other proofs. There is something to be said for not attaching too much importance to the CA in EIP11D3. Spinoza himself, as we shall see, did not consider it his principal argument for the existence of God. Moreover, there is good reason to think that at least part of Spinoza’s argument in EIP11D3 is unsound. One could then reasonably argue for not giving it any consideration on the grounds that it is both unimportant and unsound.Nonetheless, studying the argument helps clarify what Spinoza thought in general about the necessary existence of God6 and about the relations between the infinite being, God, and finite beings such as ourselves. There is thus something to add to the existing accounts. Indeed, I believe that when we do include [End Page 440] considerations regarding this argument, we must considerably revise the general metaphysical framework that especially Lin argues underlies Spinoza’s other arguments for the existence of God. Lin’s approach is strongly informed by Michael Della Rocca’s reading of Spinoza, developed in a multitude of articles over the last decade and recently presented in full in Spinoza from 2008. Della Rocca’s work constitutes the broader context and motivation for this article. His book is an impressive and already hugely influential attempt to account for the systematic unity and fundamental principles of Spinoza’s metaphysics. To my mind, however, some of its basic interpretative choices are problematic. I have chosen to discuss the CA and the form it takes in the Ethics as a good point of departure for arguing this and for suggesting what I take to be a better approach. Following Della Rocca’s account, all dependence relations in Spinoza can be reduced to conceptual ones, including the sort of relations that the CA relies on. I maintain to the contrary that Spinoza’s version of the CA is inextricably linked to his theories of causation and power. Thus, the CA in EIP11D3 provides a good example of how Spinoza’s philosophy is an ontology of power grounded in a theory of causation, and not the sort of conceptualist ontology that Della Rocca attributes to him.72. The Cosmological Argument in Eip11d3Before scrutinizing in detail Spinoza’s CA in EIP11D3, it is important to note the subsidiary role of the argument in relation to Spinoza’s various other demonstrations of the existence of God. Contrary to Thomas Aquinas, for example, who denies that a... (shrink)

Ce livre ne parle pas de religion. Son but n'est pas de plaider la cause d'une quelconque confession, avec ses dogmes et ses préceptes, mais d'examiner la question de savoir s'il existe un être suprême, suffisamment distinct du monde pour qu'on puisse l'appeler "Dieu". Il s'agit donc d'une recherche purement philosophique, appuyée sur les seules ressources de l'expérience et de la logique. Pour avancer clans cette voie, l'auteur commence par réfuter les objections les plus couramment opposées à cette entreprise (freudisme, (...) matérialisme, kantisme), avant de développer cieux types d'arguments tendant à prouver qu'il existe un Dieu : les premiers partent du constat que l'univers physique ne se suffit pas à lui-même, qu'il ne saurait donc exister sans avoir une cause transcendante ; les seconds, qui se fondent sur l'analyse des idées et des aspirations humaines, arrivent à la conclusion anti-voltairienne que "si Dieu n'existait pas, nous ne pourrions pas l'inventer". Ces deux types d'arguments, qui furent d'abord élaborés par les philosophes de l'Antiquité et les théologiens du Moyen Age, font ici l'objet d'une reformulation rigoureuse, nourrie par les travaux des philosophes anglo-saxons contemporains. L'ambition de cet ouvrage, au-delà des preuves qu'il soumet à la discussion, est d'accréditer à nouveau l'idée que l'existence de Dieu n'est pas seulement l'objet d'une foi incommunicable, mais la conclusion au moins probable de raisonnements accessibles à tous. (shrink)

In Spinoza’s ontology, there are only two categories of existing items: an independent entity that is one substance, and dependent entities that are infinite modes; “nothing exists external to the intellect except substances and their affections”(Proof of 1.P.4). Nevertheless, Spinoza introduces a third notion, ‘attribute’, that is defined as “what the intellect perceives of substance as constituting its essence” (1.d.4). Spinoza’s metaphysics is known for the doctrine of substance monism that indicates that only one substance exists. Spinoza, however, explicitly states (...) that “substance consisting of infinite attributes, each of which expresses eternal and infinite essence, necessarily exists.” These remarks create a perplexing puzzle regarding the ontological status of attributes in Spinoza’s philosophy. In the literature, in general, there are two opposite interpretations: the realist view (i.e., Curley (1988)) according to which attributes are real substances; and the anti-realist interpretation (i.e., Wolfson (1934)) that holds that attributes are not metaphysically real. In this paper, I provide some textual evidence from Spinoza’s works that contradicts both mentioned the realist and the anti-realist interpretations. As an alternative, I put forward a new account according to which attributes are real and objective; nevertheless, they should not be understood as distinct things in Spinoza's metaphysics. (shrink)

L'Index scolastico-cartesien elabore par Etienne Gilson se concoit avant tout comme un instrument de travail apportant des materiaux pour l'application d'une these audacieuse qui sera plus tard developpee dans les Etudes sur le role de la pensee medievale dans la formation du systeme cartesien, et que Gilson inaugure en ces termes : On a longtemps considere que le principal titre de gloire de Bacon et Descartes avait ete de constituer une philosophie radicalement detachee de toutes les philosophies anterieures, et d'en (...) construire l'edifice entier a nouveaux frais. [...] Une pareille conception du cartesianisme peut a la limite se soutenir en ce qui concerne la physique, mais la psychologie, la doctrine de la connaissance, la morale et la metaphysique de Descartes sont remplies d'elements empruntes a la scolastique. La doctrine du temps, des elements et qualites des corps, de Dieu et de ses attributs, des preuves de son existence, de la creation et conservation du monde, de la substance et de son rapport aux accidents, des idees innees et de notre mode de connaissance, des etats actifs et passifs de l'ame, du rapport de la volonte a l'entendement, enfin les vues de Descartes sur la religion et ses rapports avec la philosophie temoignent que sa pensee n'est pas sans devoir quelque chose a la philosophie de l'Ecole. (shrink)

continent. 1.2 (2011): 78-91. This article consists of three parts. First, I will review the major themes of Quentin Meillassoux’s After Finitude . Since some of my readers will have read this book and others not, I will try to strike a balance between clear summary and fresh critique. Second, I discuss an unpublished book by Meillassoux unfamiliar to all readers of this article, except those scant few that may have gone digging in the microfilm archives of the École normale (...) supérieure. The book in question is Meillassoux’s revised doctoral dissertation L’Inexistence divine (or The Divine Inexistence ), with its seemingly bizarre vision of a God who does not yet exist but might exist in the future. Without literally accepting this view, I will claim that it is philosophically interesting in ways that even a hardened sceptic might be able to appreciate. Third and finally, I will speculate on the possible future of Meillassoux’s speculative materialism itself. And here I mean its future development not by Meillassoux, but by those readers who might be inspired by his book. Plato could never have predicted the emergence of Aristotle’s philosophy, despite the obvious debt of the latter to the former. Nor could Descartes have predicted Spinoza and Leibniz, nor Kant the German Idealists, and neither could Husserl in 1901 have foreseen the later emergence of Heidegger. How are the works of interesting philosophers transformed by later thinkers of comparable importance? While it may seem that there are countless ways to do this, I think there are only two basic ways in which this happens: you can radicalize your predecessors, or you can reverse them. I will close this article with a few words about these two methods, and try to imagine how Meillassoux might be radicalized or reversed by some future admirer. My view is that the more important thinkers are, the easier they are to radicalize or reverse. This helps explain why the great philosophers of the West have so often appeared in clusters, succeeding one another at relatively brief intervals during periods of especial ferment. 1. After Finitude After Finitude is unusually short for such an influential book of philosophy: running to just 178 pages in the original French, and an even more compact 128 pages in the English version, despite the introduction of roughly eight pages of new material for the English edition. Rather than summarizing Meillassoux’s book in the order he intended, I will focus on six points that strike me as the pillars of his debut book. Along the way, I will offer a few criticisms as well. The first pillar of the book is Meillassoux’s own term “correlationism.”1 Although he introduces this term as the name for an enemy, it is striking that Meillassoux remains impressed by correlationism much more than his fellow speculative realists are. This continued appreciation for his great enemy influences the shape of his own ontology. Is there a world outside our thinking of it, or does the world consist entirely in being thought? Traditionally, this dispute between realism and idealism has been dismissed in continental philosophy as a “pseudo-problem,” in a strategy pioneered by Husserl and extended by Heidegger. We cannot be realists, since following Kant we have no direct access to things-in-themselves. But neither are we idealists, since the human being is always already outside itself, aiming at objects in intentional experience, deeply engaged with practical implements, or stationed in some particular world-disclosing mood. The centuries-old dispute between realism and idealism is dissolved by saying that we cannot think either real or ideal in isolation from the other. There is neither human without world nor world without human, but only a primordial correlation or rapport between the two. This is what “correlationism” means: philosophy trapped in a permanent meditation on the human-world correlate, trying to find the best model of the correlate: is it language, intentionality, embodiment, or some other form of correlation between human and world? Among other problems, this generates some friction between philosophy and the literal meaning of science. When cosmologists say that the universe originated 13.5 billion years ago, they do not mean “13.5 billion years ago for us ,” but literally 13.5 billion years ago, well before conscious life existed, and thus at a time when there was no such thing as a correlate. Meillassoux also coins the term “ancestrality” (10) for the reality that predated the correlate, and later expands this term to “dia-chronicity,” (112) to refer to events occurring after the extinction of human beings no less than to those occurring before we existed. Up to this point, Meillassoux’s focus on ancestral entities existing prior to consciousness might seem like a straightforward realist who wants to unmask correlationism as just another form of idealism. Yet Meillassoux also admires the correlationist maneuver, which can obviously be traced back to Kant. Unlike a thinker such as Whitehead, Meillassoux feels no nostalgia for the pre-critical realism that came before Kant: “we cannot but be heirs of Kantianism,” he says (29). What impresses Meillassoux about correlationism is something both simple and familiar. If we attempt to think a tree outside thought, this is itself a thought . Any form of realism which thinks it can simply and directly address the world the way it is fails to escape the correlational circle, since the attempt to think something outside of thought is itself nothing other than a thought, and thereby collapses back into the very human-world correlate that it pretends to escape. For Meillassoux this step, suggested by Kant but first refined by the ensuing figures of German Idealism, marks decisive forward progress in the history of philosophy that must not be abolished. Any attempt to break free from the correlate must first acknowledge its mighty intellectual power. Realist though he may seem, Meillassoux’s works are filled with praise of such figures as Fichte and Hegel, not of so-called “naïve realists.” It is also the case that for Meillassoux, not all correlationisms are the same. The second pillar of his book is a distinction between various positions that I have termed “Meillassoux’s Spectrum,” though of course he is never so immodest as to name it after himself. He distinguishes between at least six different possible positions, and perhaps we could add even subtler variations if we wished. But in its simplest form, Meillassoux’s Spectrum allows for just four basic outlooks on the question of realism vs. anti-realism. Three of these are easy to understand, since we have already been discussing them. At one extreme is so-called “naïve realism,” which holds that a world exists outside the mind, and that we can know this world. Meillassoux rejects this naïve realism as having been overthrown by Kant’s critical philosophy. At the other extreme is subjective idealism, in which nothing exists outside the mind. For to think a dog outside thought immediately turns it into a thought, and therefore there cannot be anything outside; the very notion is meaningless. In between these two is what we have called correlationism. And here comes a crucial moment for Meillassoux, since he distinguishes between the two forms of “weak” and “strong” correlationism, and chooses the strong form as the launching pad for his own philosophy. Weak correlationism is easy to explain, since we all know it from the philosophy of Kant. The things-in-themselves can be thought but not known. They certainly must exist, since there cannot be appearances without something that appears. And we can think about them, which idealism holds to be impossible. They are simply unknowable due to the finitude of human thought. Strong correlationism is the new position introduced by Meillassoux (though he sees it at work in numerous twentieth century thinkers), midway between weak correlationism and subjective idealism. The major difference between the three positions is as follows. Weak correlationism says: “The things-in-themselves exist, but we cannot know them.” The subjective idealist says: “This is a contradiction in terms, since when we think the things-in-themselves, we already turn them into thoughts.” But the strong correlationist says: “Just because ‘things-in-themselves’ is a meaningless notion does not mean that they cannot exist. No one has ever traveled to the world-in-itself and come back to make a report on it. Thus, the fact that we cannot think things-in-themselves without contradiction does not prove that they do not exist anyway. There may be things-in-themselves, we simply are not capable of thinking them without contradiction form within the correlational circle.” This step is crucial for Meillassoux, since strong correlationism is the position he attempts to radicalize into his own new standpoint: speculative materialism. As I see it, this step of the argument fails. Strong correlationism cannot avoid collapsing into subjective idealism, since the statements of the strong correlationist are rendered meaningless from within. All three of the other positions in the Spectrum make perfectly good sense even for those who disagree with them. The naïve realist says that things-in-themselves exist and we can know them; the meaning of this statement is clear. The weak correlationist can say that things-in-themselves exist but lie forever beyond our grasp; this too makes perfect sense, even though the German Idealists try to show a contradiction at work here. We can also understand the claim of the subjective idealist that to think anything outside thought turns it into a thought, and that for this reason we cannot think the unthought. The strong correlationist, alone among the four, speaks nonsense . This person says “I cannot think the unthought without turning it into a thought, and yet the unthought might exist anyway.” But notice that the final phrase “the unthought might exist anyway” is fruitless for this purpose. For we have already heard that to think any unthought turns it into a thought. But now the strong correlationist wants to do two incompatible things simultaneously with this unthought. On the one hand, he neutralizes the unthought by showing that it instantly changes into just another thought. But on the other hand, he wants to appeal to the unthought as a haunting residue that might exist outside thought, thereby undercutting the absolute status of the human-world correlate found in idealism. But this is impossible. If you accept the argument that thinking the unthought turns it into a thought, you cannot also add “but maybe there is something outside that prevents this conversion from being absolutely true,” because this “something outside” is immediately converted into nothing but a thought for us. In short, Meillassoux here seems to be offering a kind of Zen koan: his “strong correlationism” is reminiscent of the gateless gate, or the sound of one hand clapping, or the command to punch Hegel in the jaw when meeting him on the road. We cannot at the same time both destroy the realist challenge of the things-in-themselves in order to undercut realism and reintroduce that very realist sense in order to undercut idealism. In a world where everything is instantly converted into thought, we cannot claim that there might be something extra-mental anyway, because this “might be something” is itself converted into a thought by the same rules that condemned dogs, trees, and houses to the idealist prison. This brings us to the third pillar of Meillassoux’s argument, which is the key to all the rest: the necessity of contingency. His strategy is to transform our supposed ignorance of things-in-themselves into an absolute knowledge that they exist without reason, and that the laws of nature can change at any time for no reason at all. In this way the cautious agnosticism of Kantian philosophies is avoided, but so is the collapse of reality into thought as found in German Idealism. Meillassoux does try to prove the existence of things-in-themselves existing outside thought; he simply holds that they must be proven after passing through the rigors of the correlationist challenge, not just arbitrarily decreed to exist in the manner of naïve realism. As he puts it, “Everything could actually collapse: from trees to stars, from stars to laws, from physical laws to logical laws; and this not by virtue of some superior law whereby everything is destined to perish, but by virtue of the absence of any superior law capable of preserving anything, no matter what, from perishing” (53). If idealism thinks that the human-world correlate is absolute, for Meillassoux it is the facticity of the correlate that is absolute. He tries to show this with a nice brief dialogue between five separate characters (55-59) which is covered in detail in my forthcoming book,2 but which I will simplify here for reasons of time. In this simplified version, we first imagine a dogmatic realist arguing with a dogmatic idealist. The realist says that we can know the truth about the things-in-themselves; the idealist counters that we can only the truth about thought, since all statements about reality must be turned into statements concerning our thoughts about reality. Here the correlationist enters and proclaims that both of these positions are equally dogmatic. For although we have access to nothing but thoughts, we cannot be sure that these thoughts are all that exist; there could be a reality outside thought, there is simply no way to know for sure. And this latter position is the one that Meillassoux attempts to transform from an agnostic, skeptical point into an ontological claim about the contingency of everything. Consider it this way. How does the correlationist defeat the idealist? The idealist holds that the existence of anything outside thought is impossible. The correlationist, by contrast, holds that something might exist outside the human-world correlate. But this “something might” has to be an absolute possibility. It cannot mean that “something outside thought might exist for thought ,” because that is what the idealist already says. No, the correlationist must mean that something might exist outside thought quite independently of thought. In other words, the correlationist says that idealism might be wrong, and this means it is absolutely true that idealism might be wrong. Thus, correlationism is no longer just a skeptical position. It holds that all the possibilities of the world are absolute possibilities. We have absolute knowledge that any of the possibilities about the existence or non-existence of things-in-themselves might be true, and this means that correlationism flips into Meillassoux’s own position: speculative materialism. As Meillassoux sees it, there are only two options here. Option A is to absolutize the human-world correlate, which is what the idealist does: there absolutely cannot be anything outside thought. Option B, by contrast, is to absolutize the facticity of the correlate: its character of simply being given to us, without any inherent necessity. The correlationist cannot have it both ways by saying: “there absolutely might be something outside thought, yet maybe this is absolutely impossible.” In other words, once we escape dogmatism we can only be idealists or speculative materialists, not correlationists. The human-world correlate is merely a fact, not an absolute necessity. But this facticity itself cannot be merely factical: it must be absolute. Here Meillassoux coins the French neologism factualité , which has been suitably translated into the English neologism “factiality.” (7, 122-3) Factialty means that for everything that exists, it is absolutely possible that it might be otherwise, not just that we cannot know whether or not it might be otherwise. Just as Kant transformed philosophy into a meditation on the categories governing human finitude, Meillassoux wishes to turn philosophy into a meditation on the necessary conditions of factiality, which he calls “figures”—a new technical term for him. (80) One such figure is that the law of non-contradiction must be true, and for an unusual reason. Since everything is proven to be contingent, nothing that exists can be contradictory, for whatever is contradictory has no opposite into which it might be transformed, and thus contingency would be impossible.3 Another such figure is that there must be something rather than nothing: for since contingency exists, something must exist in order to be contingent. It is a daring high-wire act, one that sacrifices realism to the correlational circle in order to rebuild it from out of its own ashes. Some might conclude that the lack of reason in things is a byproduct of the ignorance of finite humans, Meillassoux is making precisely the opposite point. For in fact, the doctrine of finitude usually leads directly to belief in a hidden reason. The fact that it lies beyond human comprehension merely increases our belief in this arbitrarily chosen concealed ground. By defending anew the concept of absolute knowledge Meillassoux evacuates the world of everything hidden. The reason for things having no reason is not that the reason is hidden, but that no reason exists. Thus, even while insisting on the necessity of non-contradiction, he rejects the other Leibnizian principle: sufficient reason. Everything simply is what it is, in purely immanent form, without deeply hidden causes. Or as Meillassoux puts it: “There is nothing beneath or beyond the manifest gratuitousness of the given—nothing but the limitless and lawless power of its destruction, emergence, or persistence” (63).The world is a “hyper-chaos”(64). But this is not the same thing as flux. For the chaos of the world is such that stability might occur just as easily as constant, turbulent change. Let’s now digress a bit, and return to the question of ancestrality, which Meillassoux transforms later in the book into “dia-chronicity.” Correlationism holds that all talk of a world outside the correlate is immediately recuperated by the correlate. The phrase “13.5 billion years ago” becomes “13.5 billion years ago for us ,” and the phrase “the universe following the extinction of humans” becomes “the universe following the extinction of humans for humans .” But notice that whether we talk about the world before or after humans, in both cases it is time that is used to challenge the correlate. Meillassoux has no interest in challenges that might be posed by space. For example, what about a vase in a lonely country house that topples to the floor and smashes when no one is there to watch it? Isn’t this also a challenge to correlationism, no less than the Big Bang or the heat death of the universe long after humans have vanished? In an eight-page supplement to the English translation of After Finitude ,4 possibly in response to my own 2007 review of the French original,5 Meillassoux bluntly denies that space is of any relevance to the question. Spatial distance is a merely harmless challenge to the human-world correlate. After all, even though no one is there in the lonely country house to witness the shattering of the vase, we can say that had there been an observer , that observer would have witnessed the toppling and destruction of the vase. For this event still occurs in a world in which the human-world correlate already exists, whereas the diachronicity of events both before and after the existence of humans makes it impossible to say that had there been an observer they would have witnessed the Big Bang occurring in such and such a fashion. However, it seems to me that Meillassoux merely asserts that the temporal simultaneity of our existence with that of the vase in the lonely country house is enough to render it harmless. It is true that the house does not exist prior to the correlate, but nonetheless it exists outside the correlate, and that is enough to make the same challenge. It is difficult to see why the “had there been an observer” maneuver succeeds in the case of a vase in the countryside in April 2011 but fails in the case of the Big Bang. This is not just a matter of nitpicking Meillassoux’s argumentative style: the fact that he bases his argument on time has at least two important consequences for his position. For in the first place, even though Meillassoux insists that the laws of nature are absolutely contingent, this turns out to be true only in a temporal sense. That is to say, it is a paradoxical feature of Meillassoux’s philosophy that he does allow for the existence of laws of nature, and simply believes that they can change at any moment without reason. Within any given moment, laws of nature do exist. He never suggests that different parts of the universe can have different laws at the same time, nor does he have any interest in the laws of part/whole composition that take place within any given instant. Could it be the case that rather than being made of gold atoms, a small chunk of gold could be made of silver atoms, cotton, horses, or that this same small piece of gold could be made of gigantic vaults filled with even more gold? These are not topics that draw Meillassoux’s attention, since he is focused solely on how the laws of nature might change or endure from one moment to the next . Another implication for Meillassoux’s system is that his concept of things-in-themselves turns out to be to be inadequate. For when he proves that things-in-themselves can exist without humans, this turns out to be true only in a temporal sense as well. Namely, things-in-themselves existed ten billion years ago, and they will continue to exist after all humans have succeeded in exterminating themselves. However, being able to exist before our births and after our deaths is just one small part of what it means to be a thing-in-itself. The more important part is that even if a thing is sitting on a table right now, in front of me, even if I stroke it lovingly or press my face up against it directly, I am still dealing only with a phenomenal version of the thing; the thing-in-itself continues to withdraw from all access. Yet no such thing is acknowledged by Meillassoux. For him finitude is a disaster, and absolute knowledge is in fact possible. Meillassoux’s thing-in-itself exists in independence only of the human lifespan , not of human knowledge. The fifth pillar of Meillassoux’s argument is his use of Cantor’s transfinite mathematics to show that even if the laws of nature are contingent, they need not be unstable, and thus we cannot use the apparent stability of nature to disprove his metaphysics of absolute contingency. What Cantor showed is that there are different sizes of infinity, and that all these infinities cannot be totalized in a single infinite number of infinities. Meillassoux sees this as crucial, since it allows him to discredit any “probabilistic” argument against his theory. The probabilistic argument (as defended quite clearly by Jean-René Vernes)6 would say this: given that the laws of nature seem so stable, it it is extremely improbable that there is no hidden reason for their remaining so stable. As Meillassoux sees it, probability is of value only when we can index an accessible total of cases. These can even be infinite: for example, there are an infinite number of points where a rope can break when stretched tight, but this does not stop us from calculating probabilities for various sections of the rope to break. By contrast, there is no way to sum up the number of possible laws of nature. For here there is no way to totalize; we cannot stand outside of nature and calculate the possible number of laws so as to determine the probabilities that any one of them might change. Therefore, although we can speak of probability when dealing with intraworldly events such as elections, horse races, and coin-flips, we cannot use the words “probable” or “improbable” when describing alterations at the level of nature as a whole. Rather than commenting on the validity of this argument and its use of Cantor, let me simply note that it once again creates a dualistic ontology. We already saw that Meillassoux treats time differently from space. In analogous fashion, he now treats the level of world differently from that of intraworldly events. The emergence of worlds is purely contingent and virtual and governed by no probability at all, while events within the world necessarily follow laws (even if these laws can change at any moment without reason), and thus their probabilities can be calculated. It is a strategy deeply reminiscent of Badiou’s (2005) own dualism between the normal “state of the situation” and the rare and intermittent “event.” The sixth and final pillar of Meillassoux’s book can be dealt with briefly, since we have already touched on it elsewhere. It comes at the very beginning of the book, when Meillassoux says that we must revive the distinction between primary and secondary qualities, and that the primary qualities are the ones that can be mathematized. He admits that he has not yet published a proof of this idea, though in fact it is already known as one of his primary doctrines. And here we encounter the familiar problem with Meillassoux’s inadequate conception of things-in-themselves. “Primary qualities” refers to those qualities that a thing has independently of its relations with us or anything else. But if the primary qualities can be mathematized, this means that they are not entirely independent of us, since our knowledge can get right to the bottom of them. The mathematized qualities of things are independent of us only in Meillassoux’s sense that they will still have those qualities even when all humans are dead. But to repeat, autonomy from the human lifespan is not the same as autonomy from human access. Here once more Meillassoux is concerned only with independence from the human-world correlate across time, not in any given instant. 2. L’Inexistence divine In 1997, the same year in which he turned thirty years old, Meillassoux earned his doctorate at the École normale supériuere with a brazen dissertation entitled L’Inexistence divine ( The Divine Inexistence ). The work was substantially revised in 2003. But even then, with typical fastidiousness, Meillassoux decided that the work was not yet ready for press. It has now been scrapped in favor of some future, multi-volume work bearing the same title. While writing my book on Meillassoux for Edinburgh University Press, I was permitted to translate excerpts from this unpublished work for use as an appendix in my own book; in total, the appendix contains approximately twenty percent of Meillassoux’s 2003 manuscript, the first time any of it will be published in any language. Nonetheless, a portion of the argument was already tested in the article “Spectral Dilemma,” published in English in the journal Collapse (2008: 261-75). There the philosophical motives for the virtual God are already made clear. What troubles us most are early deaths, brutal deaths, deaths of especial injustice– the sorts of deaths in which the brutal twentieth century was so abundant. And here, neither the atheist nor the believer can help us. The atheist can offer nothing but a sad and cynical resignation when reflecting on the victims of these terrible crimes. The believer does little better, being unable to explain how God could have allowed such things to happen, due to the famous intractability of the problem of evil. The solution offered to this dilemma by Meillassoux is bold, and all the more so given that he emerges from such a deeply Leftist, materialist, and unreligious background. His solution is that God does not yet exist, and therefore is not blameworthy for these catastrophes. Given that everything is contingent in Meillassoux’s philosophy, this God and divine justice might never exist, but they can at least exist as an object of hope. Let’s begin by jumping to the end of L’Inexistence divine , where the alternatives are laid out so nicely. There are four basic attitudes that humans can have towards God, Meillassoux says. First, we can believe in God because he exists. This is the classical theist attitude, rejected for the simple reason that it would be amoral and blasphemous to believe in a God who allows children to be eaten by dogs, to use Dostoevsky’s example. Second, we can disbelieve in God because he does not exist: the classical atheist attitude. But this leads to sadness, cynicism, and a sneering contempt for the greatness of human capacity. The third option, rather more complex, is to disbelieve in God because he does exist: in other words, to exist in rebellion against God as the one who must be blamed for the evils of the earth. The examples here might range from Lucifer himself, to the more human figure of Captain Ahab in Melville’s Moby-Dick , to Werner Herzog’s even more recent catchphrase, “Every man for himself, and God against all.” That leaves only the fourth option: believing in God because he does not exist. Meillassoux closes his book by saying that the fourth option has now been tried (namely, in the course of his own book), and that now that all four have been specified, we must choose. The first reaction to this theory of the inexistent God will be laughter. Few readers will ever be literally convinced by it, and probably none will immediately be convinced by it. But if we ask ourselves why we laugh, the answer is because it sounds so improbable that an inexistent God might suddenly emerge and resurrect the dead. It obviously sounds more like a gullible theology than a rigorous piece of philosophical work. Yet two things need to be kept in mind. First, Meillassoux’s theories are hardly more unlikely than those of great philosophers of the past such as Plato, Plotinus, Avicenna, Malebranche, Spinoza, Leibniz, Nietzsche, or Whitehead. We read the great philosophers not because their systems are plausible in commonsense terms that can be measured by the laws of probability. Instead, we read them precisely because they shatter the existing framework of common sense and open up new window on the universe. Second, and even more importantly, Meillassoux has already rejected probability as a valid measuring stick in philosophy. Or rather, he accepts probability in the intra-worldly realm (where it is linked with potentiality), and rejects it at the level of the world itself (where potentiality is replaced with what he calls virtuality). The virtual God can appear at any moment for no reason at all, just as any other new configuration of laws of nature can appear: in a manner that the laws of probability cannot calculate. Responding to those who might ridicule the idea of a sudden emergence of God and a resurrection of the dead, Meillassoux cites Pascal, who asserts that the resurrection of the dead would be far less incredible than the fact that we were born in the first place. This shifts philosophy onto new ground. Rather than concerning ourselves with what is likely to happen in the world as we know it, we focus instead on the most important things that could happen. For this reason, the expected objection that a virtual God is no more likely to appear than a virtual unicorn or a virtual flying spaghetti monster misses the point. Unicorns and spaghetti monsters could also appear, just like any other non-contradictory thing. But these would just be novel bizarre entities among others, not the heralds of completely new worlds. For Meillassoux, the emergence of matter, life, and thought have been the three truly amazing advents of the world so far, each of them dependent on the advent(s) preceding them. As he sees it, there can be no greater intraworldly entity than the human beings who already exist, since nothing in the world is better than the absolute knowledge of which humans alone are capable. This means that the next great advent must be something that perfects human beings rather than superseding them. And this can only be the world of justice, in which the dead are resurrected and their horrible deaths partially cancelled (Meillassoux never considers the possibility of a God who would literally erase the pre-divine past so that it never happened at all). The only immortality worth having is an immortality of this life, not an existence in some ill-defined afterworld. Human existence, he holds, must always be governed by a “symbol” that gives us the “immanent and comprehensible inscription of values in a world.” And just as cosmic history made the three great contingent leaps of matter, life, and thought, with a leap to justice as the only one still to come, a similar structure occurs within human culture and its symbols, which consist so far of the cosmological, naturalistic, and historical symbols, with a “factial” symbol still to come. We can review each of these symbols briefly. The cosmological symbol refers to the ancient dualism between the terrestrial and celestial spheres. Here below everything is conflict, corruption, and decay; but in the heavens nothing is perishable, all movement is circular, and everything is arranged in mutual harmony. This symbol is ended by modern physics when Galileo discovers such blemishes as sunspots and craters on the moon, and when Newton integrates both celestial and terrestrial movement into a single gravitational law. Next comes the naturalistic or romantic symbol, in which perfection comes not from the sky but from nature itself. The world is filled with pretty flowers (Meillassoux claims that the ancients never discussed the beauty of flowers until Plotinus in the third century) and with living creatures naturally moved by pity, at least until society corrupts them. This symbol collapses in the face of reality as we know it, since pity is no more common than war, corruption, and violence. This brings us to the historical symbol, which only now is passing away. Bad things may happen, but history has an inner logic of its own, such that everything works out in the end. The ultimate form of the historical symbol is the economic symbol, whether in a Marxist or neo-liberal form. Just as the Marxist holds that the inner economic logic of the capitalists will inexorably lead them to self-destruction, the neo-liberal assumes that the sum total of individual selfish actions will lead, in the long run, to the greatest possible good. We worship the economy and let it guide history for us, just as the ancients worshipped celestial bodies and held them to be free from blemish. The final remaining symbol is the factial symbol, which Meillassoux hopes will now emerge. Factiality, we recall, is his term for the absolute contingency of everything that exists. Once we have grasped this absolute contingency, we are free to expect the dramatic advent of the coming fourth World: the world of justice, inaugurated by a virtual God and even mediated by a messianic human figure. There is the added feature, however, that this messiah must abandon all claims to special status once the messianic realm of justice is achieved. The messianic figure will then be no more special than any person on the street, since a reign of human equality will have arisen. Although this focus on human being might seem like a return to standard humanism, Meillassoux holds that human pre-eminence has never truly been maintained. Previously, humans have been treated as special only because they contemplate the Good, because they resemble their omnipotent creator, or because they happen to be the temporary victors in a cruel Darwinian death-match between millions of living species. For Meillassoux, by contrast, humans have value because they know the eternal. But it is not the eternal that is important, since this merely represents the blind, anonymous contingency of each thing. What is important is not knowledge of the eternal , but knowledge of the eternal. We should not admire Prometheus for stealing fire from the gods; Prometheus is simply as bad as all the gods, no matter how much he increased our power. Feuerbach and Marx were wrong to say that God is a projection of the human essence, since for Meillassoux the usual concept of God represents the degradation of the human essence. If the traditional God was allowed to inflict plagues and tsunamis on the human race, the Promethean human of the twentieth century simply assumes the right to inflict death camps and atomic fireballs instead. In this respect, we have simply begun to imitate the degradation of humanity that was formerly invested in an omnipotent and arbitrary God. In response to charges that absolute contingency might lead to political quietism, Meillassoux counters that the World of justice would mean nothing unless we had already hoped for it beforehand. A World of justice that came along at random would merely be an improved third World of thought: indeed, a perfect one. But it would have satisfied no craving, and would therefore have no redemptive power. For this reason, we must actively hope for the fourth World of justice for such a fourth World ever to arise. Not only justice, but beauty is dependent on such hope: for Meillassoux, who is here somewhat dependent on Kant, beauty means an accord between our human symbolization and the actual world, which could never be present in a World of the blessed any more than justice could. And just as a messianic figure is needed to incarnate our hope and then abandon power once the World of justice is realized, it is the figure of the child whose fragile contingency shows us a dignity and a demand for justice beyond all power. 3. Meillassoux Radicalized or Reversed Given the promising reception of Meillassoux’s first book, it would not be groundless to engage in early speculation about what it might take to earn him a place in the history of philosophy. Maybe this will never happen—who knows?—but quite possibly it will: his lucid argumentative methods and sheer philosophical imagination at least make him a good candidate to be read well into the future, especially following further elaboration in print of his mature system. Philosophy is often practiced as thought it were nothing more than the amassing of “knockdown arguments.” But this is no more insightful than saying that good architecture is the amassing of steal beams. It is true that poorly constructed building cannot stand for long, but sound construction is merely the first, indispensable step in building. In fact, I am inclined to say that what really makes a philosopher important is not being right, but being wrong . I mean this in a very specific sense. I once heard the interesting remark about twentieth century culture that “you have to remember that the sixties really happened in the seventies.” That is to say, it was in the 1970’s rather than the more honored 1960’s that civil rights, free love, long hair, and the rock and roll drug culture really took root. With respect to the history of philosophy, we might just as easily say: “you have to remember that Plato really happened in Aristotle,” that “Kant really happened in Hegel” or “Hume really happened in Kant,” or that “Husserl’s phenomenology first achieved its truth in Heidegger.” One becomes an important philosopher not by being right, but by attracting rebellious admirers who tell you that you are wrong , even as their own careers silently orbit around your own. To recruit faithful disciples may be comforting and flattering, but the greatest thinkers have generally had to experience refutation at the hands of their most talented heirs. For this reason, I would propose that we size up the magnitude of living thinkers not by deciding how many times they are right and wrong, but by asking instead: who would take the trouble to refute this author? For this reason I do not ask: “Is Meillassoux right?”, since I do not believe in the virtual God myself, nor am I convinced by any important aspect of Meillassoux’s philosophy. Instead, I ask if there are interesting ways to overturn him. Only by being overturned, by no longer remaining a contemporary, does one become a classic. Let’s begin with a simple model of refutation, which can be refined further at a later date once the basic point is established. One kind of refutation simply consists in saying: “This author is a complete idiot.” The refuter now walks away in celebration, and no link between the present and the future is built; all is reduced to rubble. But this sort of mediocre triumphalism is generally practiced by those who achieve little of their own, and is not especially interesting. Much more interesting is the sort of refutation that does not take its target to be a complete idiot. I would like to suggest that there are just two basic ways in which this can be done: radicalization and reversal . It has not escaped my notice that this is a fairly good match for the Deleuzian distinction between irony and humor. Whereas irony critiques and adopts the opposite principle of what it attacks, humor accepts what it confronts but pushes it into highly exaggerated form. The ironist is like the worker who sows chaos by rebeling and contradicting the boss, while the humorist is like the worker who follows orders to an absurdly literal degree, with equally chaotic results. Let’s start with a few examples. In Aristotle’s treatment of Plato, and Heidegger’s of Husserl, we find reversal. Plato’s eidei are transformed by Aristotle into mere secondary substances, and the individual worldly things despised by Plato become what is primary. For Husserl what is primary is whatever is present to consciousness, while for Heidegger this is precisely what is secondary, since the primary stuff of the world withdraws from any form of presence at all. As for radicalization, it is most easily found in the transformation of Kant by German Idealism: “Kant was right to wall off the things-in-themselves from human access, and simply should have realized that the thought of the Ding an sich is also a thought, and thereby the noumena are just special cases of the phenomena,” with much following from this discovery. It would also be easy to read Spinoza as a radicalizer of Descartes, and Berkeley and Hume as radicalized versions of Locke. Perhaps the distinction is now sufficiently clear. Admiring refutations are not those that say “Professor X is an idiot,” which is merely the flip side of the eager disciple’s fruitless “Professor X got everything right.” Instead, it will be some variant of one of the following two options: “Professor X is important, but got it backwards,” or “Professor X is important, but didn’t push things far enough.” In the history of philosophy these two latter cases have often been painful in purely human terms: Aristotle expresses sadness at refuting Plato, Kant is openly annoyed at Fichte, and Husserl feels betrayed and used by Heidegger. Rude handling from later figures almost seems to be the sine qua non of being a great philosopher. Now, it has already been claimed that Meillassoux is an emerging philosopher of the first importance, and by no less a figure than Alain Badiou: “It would be no exaggeration to say that Quentin Meillassoux has opened up a new path in the history of philosophy…” (Preface, vii). But rather than taking Badiou’s word for it, or rejecting his word, we might experiment by asking how Meillassoux could be radicalized or reversed. Are there interesting ways of doing this that might launch whole new schools of philosophy, unexpected or even condemned by Meillassoux himself? While no one can see the future, the present is poor when it is not riddled with virtual futures. The relation between philosophers and their predecessors and successors is always somewhat complicated, of course. But generally there is one central divergence at stake, which might be taken as the key to all the others. On this basis we could say that new thinkers primarily radicalize or primarily reverse the main ideas of their chief philosophical forerunner. There may be specific historical conditions and perhaps even personality traits connected with these two types, but this question can be left aside for now. More important for us is that radicalizers will generally be followed by reversers, and vice versa. Consider the textbook example of a reversal in the history of philosophy: Kant’s Copernican Revolution, which inverts the so-called dogmatic tradition that addresses the world itself, and makes the world revolve instead around the conditions by which it is known. While it is not completely impossible that Kant’s successors might have re-reversed this principle back into a new and stronger dogmatic realism, conditions were premature for such a move. Anyone doing this too early would likely have been an angry anti-Kantian reactionary rather than an original thinker in command of a genuinely new realist principle. The far more likely outcome is the one that actually happened: Kant’s reversal of his predecessors was viewed as incomplete, or as retaining lamentable bits of the traditional view, which despite his admirable breakthrough he was unable to shake off. This was the view of German Idealism, anyway. In similar fashion, Spinoza could also be viewed as a radicalizer of Descartes, who is equally accused of preserving various Scholastic dogmas in an otherwise radical project of philosophical reversal. The point is this: reversals in the history of thought tend to be followed soon thereafter by radicalizations of those reversals. The same may hold true in reverse: radicalizations might generally be followed by reversals, given that it is not always possible to be more radical than the radicals have already been. Consider the case of Husserl, who radicalizes Brentano’s early vagueness about what lies beyond immanent objectivity, and Twardowski’s assertion that there must be an external object lying outside the intentional content, by collapsing everything into the intentional sphere: there is no difference between the Berlin in my consciousness and the actual Berlin that is home to millions of people. It is difficult to see how one could be even more radical than Husserl’s idealist turn here. And thus the road is paved to Heidegger’s reversal of classical phenomenology, in which the key point is what lies deeper than any presence to consciousness: the Sein whose power and obscurity cannot be made exhaustively present, but only sends itself in historical epochs. In similar fashion we might also read Leibniz as a reverser of Spinoza’s radicalization, retrieving a strong sense of individual substance and a certain validity of what the Scholastics had said. Returning to Meillassoux, we might ask which kind of philosopher he is: a radicalizer or a reverser? At present, Meillassoux looks to me like a radicalizer (though for now his future remains shrouded in mist). He takes the correlationist tradition, which allows us to speak only of the relation between human and world, and tries to raise it into an even more extreme claim about the absolute contingency of everything. But whereas German Idealism did this by trying to collapse the distinction between thought and world entirely into the “thought” side, Meillassoux does it by trying to shift the non-absolute contingency of the thought-world correlate from epistemology to ontology. It is no longer a question of the inability of human knowledge to know what lies outside the correlate, but the inability of reality itself to be rooted in any definite laws. Furthermore, if we look at the various features of Meillassoux’s philosophy identified earlier tonight, all but one are already so radical that there is no obvious way to push them further. The one exception would be his claim that the world as a whole can change for no reason at any moment, coupled with the inconsistent claim that within a given world there are laws of nature that everything must follow. If gravitational attraction between all masses is a current law in our world, then for Meillassoux there can be no exceptions to this law for as long as it remains in force. A toppled vase will fall to the floor every time for sure,unless there is a cosmic change by which the laws of nature as a whole have altered. (This is reminiscent of the late medieval distinction between the absolute and ordained power of God, according to which God has the power to set or change the laws of nature, but not to contravene those laws locally once they are set.) On this point, to radicalize Meillassoux would simply be to say: there are no laws of nature even in the local sense. Everything that happens, even in the world here and now, is purely contingent and not governed by even a trace of law. And while this would be a more consistent development of Meillassoux’s thoughts on contingency, it is difficult to see how it could lead to a new philosophy. Instead, the admiring successors of Meillassoux are more likely to reverse one of his already sufficiently radical points. At least four candidates come to mind: *First, we have seen that Meillassoux thinks correlationism is challenged by a time before or after consciousness, but not by a space lying outside it. Perhaps this could be reversed into saying that spatial exteriority is the really crucial point. The arguments on this point are perhaps the least convincing in After Finitude (and do not even occur in the original French edition), and therefore it might be a candidate for the “blind spot” of which no philosopher is ever free. *Second, Meillassoux uses Cantor to claim that the contingency of laws of nature would not entail that they are unstable. A successor of Meillassoux might claim that it does make them unstable, and celebrate this fact. This person would then have to explain why common sense seems to encounter a relatively stable world despite its truly rampant instability. Whereas Meillassoux’s problem is to show how stability might exist despite contingency, this successor’s problem would be slightly different: to show why actual, full-blown instability might have the appearance of stability. *Third, Meillassoux claims that the primary qualities of things are those that can be mathematized. He might be reversed by a successor who says the opposite: the mathematizable qualities are the secondary ones, and the primary ones are those that elude symbolic formulation. While this is a perfectly valid possible objection to Meillassoux, it is one that is made in advance by some of his predecessors and is still made by some of his peers, making it less interesting for futurology than some of his other points. *Fourth and finally, whereas Meillassoux claims that God does not exist but might exist in the future, a successor might argue even more bizarrely that God has always existed but might vanish in the future. Let’s arbitrarily select the first of these possibilities, and imagine briefly where it might lead, if pursued in the future by admiring detractors. Meillassoux comes from the circle of Badiou, and some of Badiou’s most ardent admirers are found in Latin America. So, let’s imagine that towards mid-century some ingenious reversers of Meillassoux emerge in that portion of the Spanish-speaking world. Just for fun, let’s call them Castro and Chávez. And in order to avoid any confusion with the present-day politicians of those names, we will stipulate that Meillassoux’s great successors are both women. The philosopher Castro (we will suppose she comes from Peru) reverses Meillassoux’s argument that the ancestral or diachronic are what most threaten the human-world correlate. Instead, she claims that the diachronic does not threaten the correlate at all, and that we must instead look at space as what ruins the correlate and demands a strange new realism. What would such a philosophy look like? In order to determine this, we might ask what price Meillassoux pays for doing it the opposite way. As I see it, he pays in two separate ways. One is that laws of nature for him are contingent over time . The laws of nature apply to the universe as a whole at any given moment, and would be changed globally if they are ever changed at all. The second price he pays is that Meillassoux has no mereology , or theory of parts and wholes. Everything for him is on the level of the given, or immanent in experience, with the sole proviso that the laws governing this immanence might change without notice at any given moment. In reversing Meillassoux, Castro makes the following claims in the preface to her stunning debut book of 2045, The Cosmos and its Neighborhoods , rapidly translated from Spanish into all the languages of the world: Despite his brilliant analysis of the contingency of laws of nature over time, Meillassoux gets two important assumptions wrong. First, he allows for only one set of contingent laws to govern nature as a whole. Second, he allows laws to govern only the world that is immanent in experience, and thereby fails to explore the contingency among part-whole relations. In this book I will argue, first, that the laws of nature vary in any given instant between one region of the universe and the next; and second, that the world is made up of layers of parts and wholes that are also contingent with respect to one another. Those are the words of Castro. This may sound like a hopeless free-for-all of chaos, yet the book somehow succeeds in drawing some compelling deductions about how laws must vary from one place or level in the world to the next. Trapped in the limited horizon of 2011, and not yet inspired by the heavily balkanized political and technological situation of 2050 that somehow lends additional credence to Castro’s vision, we can only vaguely grasp what such a philosophy might look like. After this reversal of Meillassoux by Castro, the usual pattern leads us to expect a radicalization by Chávez, a young Argentine student of Castro. How could the already strange theories of Castro be radicalized? Perhaps as follows, in a disturbing new book entitled The Implosion of the Neighborhoods , which argues as follows: Castro was right to shift the Meillassouxian framework of contingency from time to space. However, in this respect she retained a surprisingly traditional opposition between the two. In this book I will show that time and space collapse into one another. This may sound too much like the discredited four-dimensional block universe of twentieth century physics and philosophy. However, the four-dimensional universe is a model biased in favor of space, merely adding an extra dimension to the commonsense spatial continuum while stipulating that the serial passage of time is an illusion. In this book I will argue instead for a one-dimensional space-time modeled after our experience of time, in which there is no simultaneous co-existence at all between different parts of the universe, or ‘neighborhoods’ as my esteemed teacher Castro has called them. Instead, the various portions of the universe link to one another by succession rather than by coexistence. Buenos Aires, New York, and Amsterdam do not exist simultaneously in the same landscape, but one after the other in the mind of some observer, and this observer can only be an observer much larger than any human. Against Meillassoux’s notion of a virtual God that does not exist now but might exist in the future, I will argue for an actual God that surveys the universe in sequence, thereby generating the illusion of spatial diversity and even the illusion of individual minds located within that diversity. Once this divine observer dies, the universe as a whole must perish. Again, these ideas are so bizarre that we of 2011 can barely comprehend them, just as Aristotle would have had a difficult time grasping the theories of Descartes. We could then perhaps imagine a further reversal of this theory, emanating from the intellectually resurgent Philippines of the twenty-second century. The Filipino School might argue that the universe is already dead, given the collapse of its spatial richness into the serial observations of a flimsy and mortal God. The virtual universe does not yet exist, but might exist in fully spatial form in the future, and this would require the death of God and the resulting liberation of God’s succession of images as independent, spatially situated realities. With a bit of sharpening, we might be able to make all of these imaginary thinkers more intuitively clear. Along with the history of philosophy, there might arise a new discipline generating imaginary futures for philosophy. The richness of Meillassoux’s system comes not from the fact that he is plausibly right about so many things, but because his philosophy offers such a treasury of bold statements ripe for being radicalized or reversed. He is a rich target for many still-unborn intellectual heirs, and this is what gives him the chance to be an important figure. NOTES 1. Quentin Meillassoux, After Finitude . Trans. R Brassier. (London: Continuum, 2008.) Page 5. The word “correlationism” does not appear in his doctoral thesis. As Meillassoux informed me in an email of February 8, 2011, he first coined this term in 2003 or 2004, while editing for publication a lecture he had given at the École normale supérieure on a day devoted to the theme of “Philosophy and Mathematics,” an event including Alain Badiou as one of the participants. 2. Graham Harman, Quentin Meillassoux: Philosophy in the Making . (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, forthcoming 2011). 3. In an email of December 6, 2010, Meillassoux clarifies that in After Finitude he only deduces the impossibility of a “universal contradiction,” not of a determinate contradiction. In the same email he suggests that he can also prove the latter, though the proof is somewhat lengthier than the one found in After Finitude . 4. After Finitude (18-26), in the passage falling between the two sets of triple asterisks. These pages were sent by Meillassoux to translator Ray Brassier (in French) during the translation process, and do not appear in the original French version of the book. 5. Graham Harman, “Quentin Meillassoux: A New French Philosopher.” Philosophy Today 51.1 (2007): Pages 104-117. The passage where I raise the question of space can be found in the first column of page 107. 6. Vernes is first cited on p. 95 of After Finitude . See Jean-René Vernes, Critique de la raison aléatoire, ou Descartes contra Kant . (Paris: Aubier, 1982).  . (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 41.3 (2003) 417-418 [Access article in PDF] Heidi M. Ravven and Lenn E. Goodman, editors. Jewish Themes in Spinoza's Philosophy. Albany: The State University of New York Press, 2002. Pp. ix + 290. Cloth, $78.50. Paper, $26.95.The current anthology presents an important contribution to the study of Spinoza's relation to Jewish philosophy as well as to contemporary scholarship of Spinoza's metaphysics and political (...) theory.In the opening essay, Lenn Goodman takes upon himself the ambitious task of evaluating Spinoza's positions as to several central disputes throughout the history of philosophy. In this rich and extensive essay Goodman argues that Spinoza's radical rationalism makes him pursue syntheses between traditionally opposed poles. Lee Rice's article, "Love of God in Spinoza," carefully analyzes Spinoza's concept of love and suggests the existence of three kinds of love parallel to the three kinds of knowledge. Warren Montag addresses the unresolved issue of Spinoza's relation to the Kabbalah. Montag sides with Deleuze against the association of Spinozism with the Neo-Platonic theory of emanation, arguing that unlike the Neo-Platonists and Kabbalists, Spinoza's view of God rules out any hierarchy, and does not assume a descent from primal simplicity into complexity. Edwin Curley contributes a beautiful reading of the story of Job and of Maimonides' interpretation of the story. Curley follows Maimonides' discussion of the various positions regarding the question of divine providence and his attempt to identify the speeches of the characters of the book of Job with each of these positions. Following a sensitive consideration of various attempts to [End Page 417] recover Maimonides' own rather concealed view about providence, Curley concludes that "[W]hatever you think Maimonides' final word on Job is, our examination of him certainly supports [Spinoza's] claim that [Maimonides] reads Scripture in terms of Platonic or Aristotelian speculations" (170).Warren Zev Harvey's essay addresses Spinoza's most neglected work, the Compendium of the Grammar of the Hebrew Language. Apart from providing an outline of Spinoza's work as a Hebrew grammarian ("a noun-intoxicated grammarian") and pointing out some of Spinoza's more eccentric views about the nature of the Hebrew language, Harvey makes a compelling case for the importance of the book for the study of Spinoza's metaphysics. He points out a fascinating analogy which Spinoza draws between the parts of speech: (proper) noun, adjectives, and participles, and Spinoza's key metaphysical terms: substance, attributes, and modes. (Think about the weighty implications of this analogy for Curley's interpretation of the substance-mode relation.) According to Harvey, Spinoza's claim that all Hebrew words are derived from nouns is a linguistic parallel to Spinoza's pivotal metaphysical doctrine which makes all things be in the substance (or God). Kenneth Seeskin's article discusses the views of Maimonides and Spinoza on the question of creation and God's relation to the world. Seeskin reconstructs an interesting critical dialogue between these two philosophers. According to Seeskin, both philosophers held that an effect must be similar to its cause. Maimonides' commitment to Negative Theology and to the denial of any common measure between God and finite things forced him to deny causal or explanatory relation between God and the world. What Maimonides can suggest instead is rather to prove that the emergence of the world ex nihilo and according to the divine will, is possible, and even likely given certain astronomical facts of medieval science. Thus, Maimonides would hold that "although we have grounds for believing that creation occurred, we will never be in a position to say how" (120). For Spinoza, such a view constitutes nothing but a "sanctuary of ignorance." Thus, according to Seeskin, Spinoza affirms a clear causal relation between God and the world of finite things insofar as God is said to explain the world. While I tend to agree with most aspects of this analysis, it is important to note that Spinoza also claims that "between the finite and infinite there is no relation" (Letter 54). This... (shrink)

Leibniz admet la thèse de la création continuée. Le but de cet article est de montrer les raisons pour lesquelles, à ses yeux, les tentatives de Descartes et de Weigel pour s’en servir comme preuve de l’existence de Dieu ont échoué et ce qui, dans sa propre métaphysique, empêche l’élaboration d’une démonstration pleinement satisfaisante sur son fondement. Il n’est pas sûr en effet que Leibniz soit parvenu à concilier parfaitement la nécessité de la dépendance permanente des créatures à l’égard (...) de leur créateur – qui requiert son action continuelle – et l’exigence de l’autonomie causale des substances finies. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:706 BOOK REVIEWS struments of redemption for others. Mary is the primary exemplar of receiving her Son's redeeming love in freedom and of wholeheartedly mediating his graces to all he has redeemed. The final essay, "Mary and Modernity," is most timely for American Christians and ecumenists. It is a very worthwhile attempt to compare and contrast the secular triad of virtues, liberty, equality, and fraternity with the Christian triad (...) of theological virtues, faith, hope, and love, especially as they are exemplified in Mary. Although this approach perceives Mary more as a " sign of contradiction " to our secularistic culture, she will help us to avoid the extremes of confusing true freedom with licence, genuine equality with egalitarianism, and authentic fraternity with collectivism by helping inspire in us the really liberating values of her Son's Gospel. Everyone can benefit immensely from the intelligent reading of this book. Mt. St. Mary's Seminary Emmitsburg, Maryland FREDERICK M. JELLY, O.P. Dieu et l'etre d'apres Thomas d'Aquin et Hegel. By EMILIO BRITO. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1991. Pp. 422. 245 francs. Sprung from premature fears of post-modernity or from an ignorant nostalgia for a monoform Catholicism which never existed, universal dismissals of " modernity " still appear occasionally in Catholic j ournals. They recall,the neo-scholastic te:xitbooks prior to Vatican II in whose pages the " moderni " (among whom were numbered not only "Kantiani" but "Hegeliani ") were dismissed by authors who, having read a few pages, were incapable of grasping the basic directions of philosophy from Herder to Heidegger. Emilio Brito, S.J., however, follows in the line of the French and German Jesuits: through this century they have sustained a varied dialogue, in philosophy and theology, between Thomas Aquinas and the important figures of modern philosophy. His two works on Hegel's Christology, and a third large study of God and creation in Schelling are now followed by this comparative work. The theology of Aquinas and the philosophy of Hegel are like two galaxies. Do they move past each other at a distance, or do they move through each other guarding a proper identity with similar forces and shared motifs? Brito has chosen one theme within these two vast realms of thought: his topic (and the book's title can mislead) is God; 'being' BOOK REVIEWS 707 is present as a stimulus to our reflection about God. After an introduction on recent interpretations of Hegel, particularly by Catholics, pages which should be read by all interested in contemporary theology, there are three sections: " the knowledge and naming of God," " the divine substance and the cycle of its attributes," and " the operations of absolute spirit." The chapters in each of the three areas present Aquinas's and then Hegel's thought, and sometimes a section of further comparison. At the end of the work Brito offers a conclusion ("God's Goodness") and a postlude ("God's Beauty"). Finally there is a "Resume." According to Brito, Aquinas's thought is clear (his Aristotelian logic is readily understandable), and his emphasis lies with the divine transcendence. Despite the process-format of the Summa theologiae and the traces of history in the headship of Christ, the diversity of sacraments, and the theologies of faith and natural law, his modest description of movement in God and in God's world of beings stands in contrast to the unleashed and unresolved development penetrating Hegel's Geist. The concluding " Resume " of nine pages is particularly valuable as it brings together the author's synthetic insights into Aquinas and Hegel (one might hope that at least it would appear in translation). The following excerpt displays its balance and clarity. The God of the Summa tends to stay back from mediation, letting itself exist in a certain exteriority, while the Hegelian absolute " raises out" the determinations it posits only by also absorbing them negatively. In the same vein, the Hegelian parousia of the negative abolishes absolutely the distance maintained by the inexpressible in language. In an opposite direction, the originating positivity of the God of Thomas grounds the irreducible presence of a reality represented in discourse. If he is a stranger to this approach and more... (shrink)

L’argument ontologique de l’existence de Dieu n'est pas seulement un argument de l’existence de Dieu. C’est la réflexion de la pensée sur ses propres conditions, fondements et limites. Cet essai examine cette auto-réflexion de la pensée, en particulier en ce qui concerne la version kantienne de la preuve ontologique. Il affirme que l’argument ontologique consiste en la dépotentialisation de la pensée par elle-même.