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Jan 9 26

Self-Control

by Bill Meacham

A recent research paper on self-control by Dr. Angela Duckworth, professor of psychology, illustrates the importance of second-order thinking in our ability to make good decisions. Although she doesn’t use the term, her work addresses the ancient philosophical problem of akrasia, a Greek word that literally means “lacking command.”[1] It is sometimes rendered as “weakness of will” and refers to acting against your better judgment or knowingly choosing what you judge to be an inferior option.[2] It is often couched in terms of succumbing to temptation.

If you know, for instance, that drinking alcohol is bad for you and leads to embarrassment and painful hangovers, why do you do it? Why do you eat way too many donuts or chocolates when you know they make you fat and prone to heart disease? Why, if you know better, do you keep getting into toxic romantic relationships or succumbing to the blandishments of false gurus or buying needless junk?

Historically there have been many answers. Socrates thought it was due to ignorance of what is truly good for you. Saint Augustine thought it was due to lack of will-power. The latter view is more prevalent today. Duckworth says,

Ordinarily, when we think of exercising self-control, we think about how hard it is. Perhaps we smoke and wish we didn’t. Perhaps we spend hours watching TV and wish we went to the gym more often. Perhaps we stay up late and wish we got more sleep. Whatever it is that makes us feel better now but worse in the long-run, struggling—and often failing—to exercise self-control is familiar territory for all of us.[3]

When you succumb to temptation you are in a state of akrasia; you lack command of yourself, you lack self-control. Duckworth defines self-control as

… the self-initiated regulation of conflicting impulses in the service of enduringly valued goals. … self-control is called for when we are torn between two mutually exclusive options, one expected to bring immediate gratification and the other expected to further more enduring and important goals.[4]

Implicit in this view of conflicting impulses is the idea that each of us contains more than one level or aspect of selfhood. Duckworth says “An individual can be of two minds about what to do, think, or feel.”[5] She doesn’t mean that we are schizophrenic, only that in addition to being able to act, often successfully, in the world, we also have the ability to observe and think about ourselves acting. In so doing we can improve how we act in the world. We humans have gained quite a lot of mastery over the physical world by observation, experimentation, thinking and planning. When we turn that same capacity for cognition toward ourselves, we are in a position to exercise self-control.

The two levels of selfhood have been called various things: First-order vs. second-order desires; hot vs. cold cognition; impulsive vs. reflective action; automatic vs. controlled mental functioning.[6] I call them first-order and second-order thinking. Our second-order thinking gives us the ability to control our first-order desires and impulses. How this plays out can be seen in the phases of the process that typically leads to an occasion of akrasia.

Duckworth identifies four phases, which she calls Situation, Attention, Appraisal and Response. She pictures them like this:[7]

The cycle starts at the bottom. You find yourself in a situation, for instance entering a room with a plate of donuts in it. Despite knowing that donuts are bad for you, your attention is drawn to the donuts; you implicitly appraise them as tasty and desirable; and finally, you respond by eating them. Your knowledge of their ill effects fades into the background as your attention fixes on the salient characteristic of the situation, the donuts. And the next time a similar situation arises, the cycle starts again.[8]

This model not only describes the cycle cogently; it also suggests ways to break it. You can intervene at any point. When you see the donuts (Attention), you can look at something else instead. Having looked at the donuts, you can remember that they are bad for you despite their delicious flavor (Appraisal) and turn away. When you are about to put one in your mouth (Response), you can stop yourself by sheer force of will. Each of these is progressively harder to achieve. It’s easier just to look away than to gaze on the donuts and appraise them as no good. It’s easier to appraise them as no good and turn away than to stop yourself in the act of eating, when you are in the throes of restimulation and rational thought is out the window. But easiest of all is addressing the situation in the first place.

Duckworth says,

… enacting self-control isn’t always difficult, particularly when it takes the form of proactively choosing or changing situations in ways that weaken undesirable impulses or potentiate desirable ones. Examples of situational self-control include the partygoer who chooses a seat far from where drinks are being poured, the dieter who asks the waiter not to bring around the dessert cart, and the student who goes to the library without a cell phone.[9] … As a rule, earlier intervention is best.[10]

To intervene in the later stages requires enough presence of mind to notice that something needs to change and enough gumption—aka will power—to change it. But to intervene on the situation before it arises requires something else. It requires having enough self-awareness to notice under what circumstances such situations arise and to think about them when you are not in the midst of desire. Then you can devise strategies to deal with them. You don’t do it in the heat of restimulation; you make plans to deal with the situation exactly when you are not in it. That’s when you are more likely to come up with successful strategies to reduce your exposure to the triggering situation, strategies that allow you to avoid exerting a lot of painful effort in the Attention, Appraisal and Response phases. Self-awareness is the key to success.

Philosophical Implications

Beyond providing good advice for dealing with akrasia, the research done by Duckworth and her colleagues sheds light on two important philosophical issues: whether we have free will and how to live well. Her research supports the assertion that we do have free will. It also supports the idea that there is something unique about human beings that, if cultivated, can lead to a more fulfilling life than if not.

Free Will

In his influential essay “Freedom of the will and the concept of a person,” philosopher Harry Frankfurt distinguishes between two levels or orders of desire and will. Along with every other living being, humans have desires for various things: food, shelter, entertainment, companions, sex and many others. Even the smallest single-cell organism has desires for nutritious things, which presumably taste good, and aversions to harmful things, which presumably taste bad. These Frankfurt calls “first-order” desires; the organism just wants something and goes after it.

Humans also have second-order desires, which he describes as follows:

Besides wanting and choosing and being moved to do this or that, [humans] may also want to have (or not to have) certain desires and motives. They are capable of wanting to be different, in their preferences and purposes, from what they are.[11]

A drug addict, for instance, wants a drug. But some addicts might also want to avoid that drug because they know its ill effects. Here we have conflicts among first-order desires. If the addict further wants to avoid the drug to the point of wanting to not even have the desire for it in the first place, they have a second-order desire, one that refers to their first-order desire. Then the conflict is between first and second-order desires.

Frankfurt distinguishes between second-order desires and second-order volitions, the latter being desires that the person wants to move him (or her or them) to do something to get what they want. By “will” or “volition” he means a desire that “moves … the person all the way to action.”[12] Presumably a person might want to experience a desire but not want to actually do the desired action or get the desired object. That’s an unusual edge case, but Frankfurt, being carefully analytic, considers it. His focus, however is on second-order volition.

Now consider two cases, both of which involve an addict that wants to quit being addicted. Addict A wants to quit, but can’t. When the opportunity arises, addict A, in a full-blown episode of akrasia, goes ahead and takes the drug. Addict B wants to quit and does in fact refuse the drug. The refusal could happen at any of the inflection points that Duckworth identifies; what’s salient is that the addict is successful in avoiding the drug. Addict B’s will is free; addict A’s is not. Frankfurt says,

It is in securing the conformity of his will to his second-order volitions … that a person exercises freedom of the will. … The unwilling addict’s will is not free.[13]

I expect that we are all addicted to something to a greater or lesser degree, be it heroin or sugar or something in between. We’ve probably all had occasions of not wanting the addiction. We know the experience of wanting to not want something, but going after it anyway. In such a case, the second-order will is thwarted. We are constrained, just as surely as if we were imprisoned and forced to ingest the drug. But if we succeed in actuating our second-order will and curbing the first-order one, we feel a sense of freedom, of power and accomplishment. Second-order thinking, aka self-awareness, is what makes freedom of the will possible.

Human Excellence

Inscribed on a wall at the Oracle of Delphi were the words “Know thyself.” According to the ancient Greeks the nature of a thing—what a thing is, essentially—determines or at least gives us very good clues to what it is good for or good at, and what is good for it. When a thing is doing what it is good at and getting what is good for it, then it is functioning well. The internal experience of functioning well is—in human terms—fulfillment, a fulfilling life. And the thing humans are best at is second-order thinking.

Our capacity for second-order thinking—also called self-awareness, self-knowledge and metacognition—is what makes us distinctively human. Most other animals don’t have it. Think of a dog who suddenly notices a squirrel and takes off after it. There’s not much cool self-reflection going on in that case, nor when the squirrel is gone and the dog gets distracted by something else. Perhaps some animals, the so-called higher ones like octopuses, whales, chimpanzees and elephants, have that capacity in rudimentary form, but absent intelligent beings from another planet it’s clear that humans can do it more and better than any other species.

That fact suggests that if we cultivate our capacity for second-order thinking, our ability to consider ourselves as well as all the things we busy ourselves with, we’ll better be able to figure out how to live in a fulfilling way.

We can do this in two ways. The first is that we can think about ourselves and how we typically behave, react and function. Such thinking is retrospective and prospective. We remember how we comported ourselves in the past and think about how we might do better in the future. The original meaning of “know thyself” was “know your limits” in the sense of knowing the extent of your abilities.[14] That’s the kind of self-knowledge that pervades much of human social and intellectual life. It involves taking an objective stance and considering yourself as if from a public point of view. From there you can figure out what works and what doesn’t. Friends, coaches and mentors help us do this.

The other way is to observe ourselves in action, in the present moment as we experience and do things. To do this you take a personal, private stance and view yourself from your own subjective point of view. How do you feel? What thoughts go through your mind? What does the world look like? These are sorts of questions asked by therapists and spiritual teachers.

Both these forms of self-reflection enable self-transcendence. By this I mean that in “seeing” ourselves as an object, we take a position, as it were, outside of ourselves, and doing so enables us to alter the self that is “seen.” (“See” and its variants are in quotes because the experience is not just visual. We experience ourselves in many modalities.) Of course the self that is “seen” is not different from the self that “sees,” in that both are the interior of the same physical body. But in another sense, the self that “sees” is different. It has a larger vantage point and is not entirely caught up in the life of the self that is “seen.” By taking a position outside yourself, you can change yourself for the better.

Socrates said that the unexamined life is not worth living.[15] That’s a bit harsh, but the point is clear. The more we examine and understand ourselves, the more we can figure out how live in a good way for us and for others. We can learn how to achieve our goals and even which goals are worth pursuing. Second-order thinking gives us mastery because it enables us to tune the instrument, so to speak, by means of which we exert first-order influence on the world. That’s worth cultivating whether you are an addict or not.

NOTE —

###

References

Duckworth, Angela, et. al. “Situational Strategies for Self-Control.” Online publication https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC4736542/pdf/nihms741973.pdf as of 2 January 2026.

Frankfurt, Harry. “Freedom of the will and the concept of a person.” In The Importance of What We Care About. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1998, pp. 11-25.

Plato. Apology. Online publication https://chs.harvard.edu/primary-source/plato-the-apology-of-socrates-sb/ as of 7 January 2026.

Wikipedia (2019). “Akrasia.” Online publication https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akrasia as of 30 March 2019.

Wikipedia (2026). “Akrasia.” Online publication https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akrasia as of 4 January 2026.

Wikipedia. “Know thyself.” Online publication https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Know_thyself as of 7 January 2026.

Notes


[1] Wikipedia (2019), “Akrasia.”

[2] Wikipedia (2026), “Akrasia.”

[3] Duckworth et. al., p. 1.

[4] Duckworth et. al., p. 3.

[5] Duckworth et. al., p. 5.

[6] Duckworth et. al., p. 33, Table 1.

[7] Duckworth et. al., p. 30, Figure 1.

[8] Duckworth et. al., p. 30.

[9] Duckworth et. al., p. 1.

[10] Duckworth et. al., p. 7.

[11] Frankfurt, p. 12.

[12] Frankfurt, p. 14.

[13] Frankfurt, pp. 20–21.

[14] Wikipedia, “Know thyself.”

[15] Plato, Apology, 38a5–6.

Dec 2 25

Is Truth Mutable?

by Bill Meacham
Wm. James

The American Pragmatist William James says a curious thing about truth: that it can change.

Truth is a property of statements about reality. If I say “The cat is on the mat” and the cat is indeed on the mat, then my statement is true. If the cat moves off the mat, as cats do, then the statement becomes false. So of course the truth of a statement changes if the reality that it’s about changes. But James means something more. He says that even if the reality doesn’t change, the truth of statements about it can and do change. His view implies that it was once true that the earth is flat and now it has become true that it’s not. That’s not as ridiculous as it sounds. The key to understanding his assertion is to recognize the point of view from which he makes it.

From an objective, third-person point of view remarks such as these make no sense.

… ideas … become true just in so far as they help us to get into satisfactory relation with other parts of our experience ….[1]

Truth happens to an idea. It becomes true, is made true by events.[2]

How can an idea become true? Surely it is either true or not. People used to think that the earth was flat. Now we know that it’s round (technically, it’s an oblate spheroid). James seems to be saying that the proposition “The earth is flat” used to be true but now it’s false. Does that mean that the earth itself has changed shape? Surely not.[3] Was the idea that the earth is flat true many years ago but now false? Or has the idea always been false, and now we have finally recognized its falsehood? Most people would affirm the latter. In fact, the founder of Pragmatism, C.S. Peirce, so disliked the idea of truth as mutable that he called it one of the “seeds of death” by which James allowed his pragmatism to become “infected.”[4]

James says

[An idea] makes itself true, gets itself classed as true, by the way it works.[5]

Here he seems to attribute agency to ideas. But ideas are not agents; they are mental objects. They are thoughts, which can be entirely private or shared among others, but don’t act on their own. Presumably James speaks figuratively, not literally, but the point remains: how can an idea become true?

The answer is two-fold. The first is that James is less precise than we might like. By “truth” James means truth as we experience it. He says,

[By] the word ‘true’ … the pragmatist always means ‘true for him who experiences the workings [of a chain of reasoning].’[6]

He means by “truth” what we take to be true. If he had said that ideas become more or less believable as we accumulate evidence instead of more or less true, we would have no trouble with his words.

The second part of the answer has to do with why James uses such language. He speaks of truth from a first-person phenomenological point of view, an approach he used throughout his life. From his monumental Principles of Psychology (1890) through his famous Varieties of Religious Experience (1902) to his Pragmatism (1906), in which he speaks favorably of “inner personal experiences,”[7] he always had an appreciation for how things appear to us subjectively.

Think of walking toward a tree or a building or any other physical object. As you approach it, it seems to get bigger, and as you walk away, it seems to get smaller. In reality it stays the same size, of course, and it’s only your perspective on it that changes. (By “reality” I mean the taken-for-granted world that we all inhabit together.) Even though the object’s physical size doesn’t change, its perceived size certainly does. From a first-person point of view, it’s quite reasonable to say that it gets bigger as we get nearer to it.

Just so, an idea—say, that the earth revolves around the sun instead of the other way around—first appears ridiculous and fallacious, then appears more plausible and finally appears to be true. From a third-person, objective standpoint we say that the idea finally appears to us as true or that we finally believe it. From a first-person perspective, we can say that the idea has become true. The statements mean the same thing; they are just expressed differently.

###

References

Peirce, C.S. Collected Papers, Electronic Edition. Online publication https://colorysemiotica.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/peirce-collectedpapers.pdf as of 30 November 2025.

Putnam, Hilary. Reason, Truth and History. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1981.

James, William. Pragmatism: A New Name for Some Old Ways of Thinking. New York: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1907. Available online at https://www.google.com/books/edition/Pragmatism_a_new_name_for_some_old_ways/UGBRAAAAYAAJ as of 9 July 2020.

James, William. The Meaning of Truth: A Sequel to ‘Pragmatism’. London: Longman, Green, and Co., 1909. Available online at https://dn790006.ca.archive.org/0/items/in.ernet.dli.2015.264519/2015.264519.The-Meaning.pdf as of 26 July 2024.

Notes


[1] James, Pragmatism, p. 58.

[2] James, Pragmatism, p. 201.

[3] Putnam, Reason, Truth and History, p. 55.

[4] Peirce, Collected Papers, section 6.485.

[5] James, Pragmatism, pp. 64.

[6] James, The Meaning of Truth, p. 177

[7] James, Pragmatism, p. 109.

Oct 31 25

Whitehead on Selfhood

by Bill Meacham

(This essay originally appeared in the online journal Drops & Buds, Autumnal Equinox 2025 edition.)

Displayed prominently on a website devoted to transpersonal psychologist Stan Grof’s teaching is an ancient Greek proverb: “Know Thyself.”[1] Clearly, the nature of the self is of extreme importance for Grof. He says,

Spiritual intelligence is the capacity to conduct our life in such a way that it reflects deep philosophical and metaphysical understanding of reality and of ourselves discovered through personal experience during systematic spiritual pursuit.[2]

The admonition to know and understand ourselves can be taken in two ways. First, we can learn things peculiar to each of us such as our talents and limits, the events that formed our personality, our deep fears and aspirations and the like. But we can also take it in a more general sense. What are structures of the self common to all people? How do those structures fit into a broad account of the whole of reality? Seeking the philosophical and metaphysical understanding of reality that Grof advocates, Alfred North Whitehead addresses these questions.

Whitehead’s goal is “to frame a coherent, logical, necessary system of general ideas in terms of which every element of our experience can be interpreted.”[3] One of those elements is ourself, that is, the self that each one of us is. Whitehead needs to account for our sense that we are both a central vantage point to which our world appears and an agent making decisions and taking action in that world. The self is that which provides “central direction” to the whole psycho-physical organism that we are. He says,

in the case of the higher animals there is central direction, which suggests that in their case each animal body harbours a living person …. Our own self-consciousness is direct awareness of ourselves as such persons.[4]

Whitehead’s terminology is unfortunate. He calls the self of animals, including humans, a “living person,” but most people would not consider non-human animals as persons (although some might make an exception for a favorite pet). The term “person” in everyday usage means a human being. In a legal context, a person is any entity that can possess rights and obligations, and can be a party to legal proceedings.[5] Whitehead uses the term differently. To understand it we need to put it in the context of his ontology, that is, his classification of the kinds of things that exist. In increasing order of specificity, they are the following:

  • Actual occasion
  • Nexus
  • Society
  • Society with personal order (also called an enduring object)
  • Corpuscular society
  • Structured society, which contains
    • One or more subservient societies or nexuses
    • One or more regnant societies or nexuses
  • Living society, a variety of structured society
  • Living person, a variety of living society

That’s quite a list. Let’s consider each one in turn.

In Whitehead’s view, the most fundamental unit of reality is the actual occasion, also termed “actual entity.” Each actual occasion is momentary, coming into being, going through various phases and then passing away; and each one experiences, in a primitive way, its past and its present surroundings, a process that Whitehead calls “prehension.” (Please see my earlier essay “The Least Units of Reality” for a fuller exposition.)

A group of actual occasions that prehend each other Whitehead calls a “nexus,” a Latin word meaning a binding together. A nexus is any group of occasions that are related to each other by mutual prehension. It’s a very broad term. A nexus is any “particular fact of togetherness among actual entities.”[6] In other words, a nexus is just a bunch of actual entities that are related to each other, if only because they are nearby. (In Latin the plural of “nexus” is “nexūs,” pronounced as “nexoos.” Whitehead uses the Latin, but I use the more English-friendly “nexuses.”)

A more restricted form of nexus is the society, another unfortunate term that doesn’t mean what it ordinarily does. Rather than a community of people, Whitehead uses the term “society” to mean a nexus in which the member actual occasions have a common form prehended from each other. They are related such that some of them inherit characteristics of other ones.[7] Each member prehends not just the existence of the others as in a nexus, but something they all have in common. They share this characteristic by virtue of their prehensions of antecedent members of the same society.[8] A pile of sand is a nexus, but not a society. Each grain of sand, however, composed of molecules which are in turn composed of atoms, is a society.

The protons, neutrons and electrons within an atom are composed of actual occasions that occur in temporal sequence, one after another. Whitehead calls such a sequence “personal order.”[9] As mentioned above, this is an unfortunate use of the term “person,” but it’s what Whitehead gives us. A society with personal order is one that contains only one member at a time. An example is an electron in a carbon atom, which is composed of a temporal sequence of carbon-atom-electron occasions, each of which inherits from its predecessor a common character.[10] Whitehead calls such a personally-ordered society an enduring object.[11] However, he also uses “enduring object” and “enduring entity” more loosely to mean anything that is composed of one or more temporal series of actual occasions, from electrons to people, trees and houses, to stars and galaxies.[12]

The next most specific type of entity is the corpuscular society, which is a society composed of more than one personally-ordered society. Ordinary physical objects are corpuscular societies. For example, a stone comprises many molecules, each of which comprises one or more atoms, each of which comprises personally-ordered societies that we call protons, electrons, neutrons and other subatomic so-called particles. Whitehead says “a nexus which (i) enjoys social order, and (ii) is analysable into strands of enduring objects [in his strict sense] may be termed a ‘corpuscular society.’”[13]

A structured society is a corpuscular society in which different components have different functions. Some are what he calls” regnant” and others, subservient.” A regnant society, as the name implies, is one that gives direction to or at least influences the behavior of the whole society of which it is a part. A subservient society or nexus follows the direction of the regnant society.[14]

Even more restricted is the living society, a type of structured society. The salient characteristic of life is that it can come up with novel behaviors instead of merely repeating what has gone on before. Non-living bodies exhibit “no originality in conceptual prehension.”[15] A stone just does what it does over and over again. It has no ability to envision anything else; it is all physical prehension, not conceptual. In contrast, “an organism is ‘alive’ when in some measure its reactions are inexplicable by any tradition of pure physical inheritance.”[16]

In each concrescent occasion [contained in a living society] its subjective aim originates novelty to match the novelty of the environment. … Structured societies [of this type] are termed ‘living.’ It is obvious that a structured society may have more or less ‘life,’ and that there is no absolute gap between ‘living’ and ‘non-living’ societies. … The primary meaning of ‘life’ is the origination of conceptual novelty—novelty of appetition.[17]

And finally, we come to the living person.

A living nexus … may support a thread of personal order along some historical route of its members. Such an enduring entity is a ‘living person.’ … The defining characteristic of a living person is some definite type of hybrid prehensions transmitted from occasion to occasion of its existence.[18]

And that’s what the self is for Whitehead, an enduring entity that is a component of a living society. Each of us is a psycho-physical being that persists through time, changing throughout but recognizably the same person because of our self’s persistence. In Process and Reality Whitehead calls this enduring object a “living person.” In a later work, Adventures of Ideas, he uses the more traditional term “soul” instead.[19]

Whitehead apparently hadn’t quite finalized his thoughts on this matter while writing Process and Reality. Originally thinking that inheritance via physical prehension alone precluded any introduction of novelty, he needed a way to account for the obvious capacity of living beings to respond to their environment in new and different ways as it changed. His solution was to posit a soul composed of conceptual prehensions, which do allow for novelty, that inhabits the physical body. He says it “lurks in the interstices of each living cell, and in the interstices of the brain”[20] and “wanders from part to part of the brain, dissociated from the physical material atoms.”[21] This notion certainly seems to imply that the soul and body are two distinct types of being, an idea antithetical to his desire for a metaphysical system applicable to every element of our experience. Later he came to a different solution, one that could alleviate the novelty issue. Without changing what he had already written, he incorporated into his discussion the notion of hybrid prehension.[22]

A hybrid prehension is “the prehension by one subject of a conceptual prehension … belonging to the mentality of another subject.”[23] It contains both physical and conceptual feelings. If an organism is composed of streams of actual occasions constituted by hybrid prehensions, we do not need to conceive it as requiring a separate soul floating around in its brain, and indeed Whitehead says as much. Continuing the thought, he says that “The defining characteristic of a living person is some definite type of hybrid prehensions transmitted from occasion to occasion of its existence.”[24]

This soul is not disembodied and ontologically separate from the body. It is not a res cogitans (thinking thing) as opposed to a res extensa (extended, or material, thing) as Descartes asserted. Just as each actual occasion is dipolar, having a physical and a mental aspect, so is everything composed of actual occasions. The soul, or self, is the mental aspect of an animal body (and of course humans are a type of animal).

That said, it is also something we can perceive. Recall that Whitehead says that “each animal body harbours a living person …. Our own self-consciousness is direct awareness of ourselves as such persons.”[25] Presumably, then, we can come to know ourselves through introspection. But there is a problem with such an approach. What exactly is it that we come to know?

18th century philosopher David Hume has an answer: there is no such thing! In a famous passage from his A Treatise of Human Nature he says,

For my part, when I enter most intimately into what I call myself, I always stumble on some particular perception or other, of heat or cold, light or shade, love or hatred, pain or pleasure. I never can catch myself at any time without a perception, and never can observe anything but the perception.[26]

When Hume introspectively looks for his soul, he finds only things which appear to him—thoughts, feelings, perceptions, emotions and the like—but not the self to which they appear. The self, he says, is “nothing but a bundle or collection of different perceptions, which succeed each other with an inconceivable rapidity, and are in a perpetual flux and movement.”[27]

Hume recognizes the transient and shifting nature of reality, as does Whitehead. But he takes for granted the materialistic view of nature that interprets the components of reality as inert substances to which things happen rather than dynamically self-creating experiential events. Hume can be faulted for having an inadequate metaphysics, but the issue remains. Within the state of constant change that constitutes our experience is there a thing-like “living person” or soul, or is there not?

The answer is not to be found in argumentation, but in observation. Both Whitehead and Grof insist on the primacy of actual experience in our attempt to make sense of ourselves and our world. Each one of us is faced with the question “Who or what are you?” And each of us must answer for ourself.

###

References

Cobb, John B. Jr. Whitehead Word Book. Claremont, CA: P&F Press, 2008. Online publication https://www.informationphilosopher.com/solutions/philosophers/whitehead/WordBookWeb.pdf as of 8 August 2021.

Hume, David. A Treatise of Human Nature. Originally published in 1739. Online publication https://oll.libertyfund.org/titles/bigge-a-treatise-of-human-nature as of 23 June 2025.

Whitehead, Alfred North. Adventures of Ideas. New York: The Free Press, 1967.

Whitehead, Alfred North. Process And Reality: An Essay in Cosmology, Corrected Edition ed. David Ray Griffin and Donald W. Sherburne. New York: The Free Press, 1978. Abbreviated in the notes as PR. (Original edition New York: Macmillan, 1929.)

Notes


[1] https://www.stangrof.com as of 18 July 2025.

[2] https://www.azquotes.com/author/5951-Stanislav_Grof as of 18 July 2025.

[3] Whitehead, PR, p. 3.

[4] Whitehead, PR, p. 107.

[5] https://www.law.cornell.edu/wex/legal_person as of 21 July 2025.

[6] Whitehead, PR, p. 20.

[7] Whitehead, PR, p. 34.

[8] Cobb, Whitehead Word Book, p. 28.

[9] Whitehead, PR, p. 34.

[10] Cobb, Whitehead Word Book, p. 44; Whitehead, PR, p. 34.

[11] Whitehead, PR, p. 34.

[12] Cobb, Whitehead Word Book, p. 29.

[13] Whitehead, PR, p. 35.

[14] Whitehead, PR, p. 103.

[15] Whitehead, PR, p. 101.

[16] Whitehead, PR, p. 104.

[17] Whitehead, PR, p. 102. 

[18] Whitehead, PR, p. 107.

[19] Whitehead, Adventures of Ideas, pp. 208, 211 and 215.

[20] Whitehead, PR, pp. 105-106.

[21] Whitehead, PR, p. 109.

[22] Cobb, Whitehead Word Book, pp. 30-31, 45.

[23] Whitehead, PR, p. 107.

[24] Whitehead, PR, p. 107.

[25] Whitehead, PR, p. 107.

[26] Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature. Part IV, Section VI, “Of Personal Identity,” p. 173.

[27] Hume, A Treatise of Human Nature. Part IV, Section VI, “Of Personal Identity,” p. 174.

Sep 26 25

Knowing

by Bill Meacham
Daedalus flying

In ancient Greek mythology Daedalus was quite an accomplished craftsman, inventor, artist, and architect.[1] He is said to have designed and built the labyrinth on Crete and is best known for constructing wings made of beeswax and feathers that allowed him and his son Icarus to escape imprisonment from that very labyrinth by flying away. Unfortunately, Icarus ignored his father’s advice, flew too close to the sun thereby melting the wax that held his wings together, and fell to his death. The story cautions us to take the advice of people who know more than we do.

Daedalus was also famous for creating statues that were so lifelike that they could move. Plato uses the idea of these statues to make a point about what knowledge is. His Meno contains a brief discussion of how knowledge differs from beliefs that happen to be true. Both knowledge and true beliefs can be equally useful. If you live in Austin and have been to San Antonio you can tell someone how to get there, and so can someone who has never been there. Both will tell you to head south on I-35, and both pieces of advice will work. But there is a crucial difference between them, and it has to do with knowledge. Only the first person really knows; the other one merely has true belief. Meno asks Socrates why knowledge is valued more than true belief and what makes them different. Socrates replies by referring to the statues of Daedalus:

They too run away and escape if one does not tie them down but remain in place if tied down. … To acquire an untied work of Daedalus is not worth much, like acquiring a runaway slave, for it does not remain, but it is worth much if tied down, for his works are very beautiful. What am I thinking of when I say this? True opinions. For true opinions, as long as they remain, are a fine thing and all they do is good, but they are not willing to remain long, and they escape from a man’s mind, so that they are not worth much until one ties them down by (giving) an account of the reason why. … After they are tied down, in the first place they become knowledge, and then they remain in place. That is why knowledge is prized higher than correct opinion, and knowledge differs from correct opinion in being tied down.[2]

The tying down of the errant statue is equivalent to having good reasons for your beliefs, reasons you can return to if in doubt. (Plato says that one good reason is remembering certain truths that you learned before birth, but that’s beside the point for present purposes.)

Here’s an example. Suppose you read on a website somewhere that intermittent fasting is good for you because it helps you lose weight. Even though you don’t practice it yourself you recommend it to your obese friends. But suppose you find another website that says it could be very dangerous for you and lead to eating disorders.[3] Then you’ll change your mind and quit recommending it. In neither case do you have any real knowledge, only beliefs that might or might not be true. And your beliefs waver; they are not settled.

But then suppose you actually try it for yourself for a while and observe the effects. You’ll find out for sure whether it is beneficial or harmful (or has no effect), at least for you yourself. No random website will make you change your mind, because when tempted to do so you can remember what happened when you tried it. You have a good reason for your belief.

Ever since then, at least until recently, philosophers have defined knowledge as justified true belief. To count as knowledge, your belief has to be true, obviously. You can’t know that the earth is flat no matter how fervently you believe that it is because it’s not. But you also need to have some justification for what you believe. Most likely you believe that the earth is not flat but round. If you believe that because everybody says so, it’s not really knowledge, according to this definition. But if you watch a ship sailing away from you on the ocean and you notice that in addition to getting smaller it seems to sink down gradually into the water until it finally disappears, then you have good reason to believe that the earth is round. You have even better reason if you are an astronaut orbiting it and you see its roundness with your own eyes.

In 1963 Edmund Gettier poked a big hole in this definition. There are cases in which a person’s belief happens to be true and the person has good reasons for their belief, but the belief is true only by chance. His examples are a bit far-fetched, as can be expected of edge cases, but sound. Here’s one:

Two people, Smith and Jones, are up for promotion. Smith has heard the boss say that Jones will get the job, and Smith knows that Jones has ten coins in his pocket because he saw Jones put them there. So, Smith has good reason to believe that the person who will get the job has ten coins in his pocket. But the boss is actually going to choose Smith. And, although he doesn’t know it, Smith also has ten coins in his pocket. In this case it’s true that the person who will get the job has ten coins in his pocket, but we would not say that Smith knows it, even though his belief is true and he has good reasons for believing it.[4]

Here’s another, from well before Gettier and halfway around the world. In 632 CE the Buddhist monk Xuanzang in China sees what looks like a body of water as he hikes through the desert, so he believes that there is water ahead. In this desert there are numerous mirages that look like water. By chance Xuanzang sees an actual body of water, not a mirage. Does he really know that there is water ahead? His belief is true, and his belief is justified because he sees the water. But it’s just a matter of luck that he sees the real body of water and not a mirage.[5]

In both these cases your belief is true only because you got lucky. But it’s no good having epistemic luck be part of how you justify your belief because if it is, your belief doesn’t count as knowledge. Each of these cases—and there are many more in the literature—shows that being true and having good reasons are not enough to ensure that a belief is knowledge. These factors are necessary but not sufficient. Something else is needed to banish epistemic luck.

There many suggestions about what that something else is.[6] The true belief must not be deduced from a false belief. Your chain of reasoning must contain no “defeaters,” propositions that, were they known, would lead you to disbelieve what you are otherwise convinced of. There must be a connection, for instance a reliable process for forming true beliefs, between some state of affairs in the world and your belief. Or there must be a causal connection between some state of affairs in the world and the belief. Such a connection might be direct perception, memory, your own agency, or inference, each step of which is warranted. There are other suggestions, and each has its proponents and opponents. As is usual in philosophical debates, there is no clear answer and certainly none that convinces everyone.

The author’s own preference is for the reliable process option, just because it seems to make the most sense. How do you ensure that your justification is sound? By adopting it according to a process that reliably produces true beliefs. C.S. Peirce, to whom we will turn shortly, has things to say about the reliability of various processes for acquiring beliefs.

And at least one of the objections to reliabilism is ridiculously implausible: that an evil demon might cause a person to think something is true. Even if that belief turns out to be in fact true and even though a reliable process would yield the same result, it would not count as justified because it’s caused by an evil demon rather than the process.[7] But in the real world we have no truck with evil demons. As Daniel Dennett says, the utility of a thought experiment is inversely proportional to the size of its departure from reality.[8] Such arguments lead us into the weeds of philosophical debates that can be great fun but have little practical effect.

Considerations such as these and the fact that the correct answer, if there is one, is so hard to find are clues that something may be amiss in the original question.

What’s amiss is that we think that knowledge must have some sort of essence that we can discover by careful inquiry, something unchanging that is found in all instances of knowledge. We reify it (from the Latin res), meaning we treat it as a real thing. But most likely there is no such essence, and we can get a better handle on the issue by following Ludwig Wittgenstein’s advice to look at it in terms of usage.

Wittgenstein says “For a large class of cases … the meaning of a word is its use in the language.”[9] Let’s look at how we use the word “knowledge” and related words such as “know” and “knowing.” Let’s look at what the concept of knowledge is used for and what role it plays in the structured social interactions that Wittgenstein calls “language games.”[10]

There are lots and lots of language games and thus lots of roles. To begin with, there are two types of knowledge, which Bertrand Russell calls “knowledge by acquaintance” and “knowledge about.”[11] (There is a third type, knowing how to do something, colloquially known as “know-how.” Since it combines aspects of them both, I discuss only the two.) The former is how we know a person or a place (or many other things). If I say “I know Alice” or “I know Pease Park,” I merely assert familiarity with the person or place. The latter is how we know a proposition or theory. If I say “I know that modus ponens is a valid form of inference,” I assert that I can explain the concept and use it correctly. If I say “I know epistemology,” I assert that I can speak with confidence about the various ideas and arguments in that field. This essay concerns only the latter, knowledge-about.

There are numerous contexts in which the words “knowledge” or “know” are used to indicate some kind of knowledge-about. If you say that you know something, you signal to others that you think they should believe you. If others think that you know something, they are likely to take your word for what you say rather than investigating further. If you think you know something, you are unlikely to seek further evidence for it. In many social arenas, if people think you have knowledge about something, you have high status, especially if what you know about is a specialized field of inquiry. In other social arenas claiming to know something might cause you to be mocked as a know-it-all. (This list is not intended to be exhaustive, just illustrative.)

Claiming knowledge about a class of people can be a way to exert social control over them, especially if your way of speaking about and defining them dominates the discussion. The field of study called Sociology of Knowledge deals with knowledge as a social production, asserting that knowledge and knowing are contextual, shaped by interaction among people. In this view, what a person believes to be true is fundamentally shaped by their social position in society—their race, class, gender, sexuality, nationality, culture, religion, etc.—and by the dominant ideologies that frame their understanding of that position.[12]

Given such disparate uses of the term “knowledge,” it seems unwise to try to find a singular essence of its referent. Instead, the various uses form what Wittgenstein calls “family resemblances.”[13] They are all similar in some ways, but different in others. You don’t know the Pythagorean theorem in the same way that you know that the sun will come up tomorrow, nor in the same way that you “know” (i.e., that you believe firmly) that certain people who are different from you are inferior and not to be trusted. But despite differences, they are all similar enough that we all know what the term means—meaning we all know how to employ it—in diverse situations. Accordingly, despite quibbles about edge cases, the definition of knowledge as justified true belief is good enough in most contexts.

In practical terms, however, the problem remains of how to justify our beliefs. If reliability of process is the add-on needed to counteract Gettier-type objections, we need to determine what counts as a reliable process.

A process is a series of actions or steps taken to achieve a goal. A reliable process is one that it is repeatable and gives consistent results. A simple cookie recipe is an example, as is the complex industrial process that converts crude oil into gasoline. In our case the goal is true belief. We want a way to make our beliefs stand firm against doubt, just as we would want a way to tie down a statue of Daedalus.

The American Pragmatist C. S. Peirce (pronounced “purse”) addresses the issue. His influential paper “The Fixation of Belief” describes four different methods to fix (i.e. to establish, not to repair) a belief. Only one of them is reliable enough to turn a belief into knowledge.

First, he defines belief. Knowledge is a form of belief, obviously, one that is true and reliably justified, so this is a good place to start. Belief, he says, is that upon which a person will act. This is Peirce’s original and influential contribution to philosophy and the foundation of Pragmatism as a philosophical movement. He says,

Our beliefs guide our desires and shape our actions. … The feeling of believing is a more or less sure indication of there being established in our nature some habit which will determine our actions. … Belief does not make us act at once, but puts us into such a condition that we shall behave in some certain way, when the occasion arises.[14]

Peirce comes to this view by observing how belief and its opposite, doubt, actually function in ourselves and in the world. He says that doubt and belief differ in three ways:[15]

  1. They feel different. The sensation of doubting is a kind of irritation. The sensation of belief is calm and satisfactory.
  2. They have different effects on our actions in the world. In a state of doubt we do not act with confidence. Doubt gives us no guidance; we do not know what to do, so we act hesitantly if at all. In a state of belief we do act with confidence. We are sure of what we believe and act on it quite readily.
  3. They have different effects on our actions toward themselves. “Doubt is an uneasy and dissatisfied state from which we struggle to free ourselves and pass into the state of belief; while the latter is a calm and satisfactory state which we do not wish to avoid, or to change to a belief in anything else.”[16]

Peirce’s method is scientific; he observes reality and learns from it. He advocates this method over three others that people use to quell doubt and settle on something to believe. The four ways to fix belief are as follows:[17]

  1. Tenacity. The tenacious person simply holds on to their belief, constantly reiterates it and refuses to entertain doubts. This method works until you encounter people who don’t believe as you do. Then you have doubt, which is exactly what you don’t want. You might just double down on your belief and refuse to listen, but eventually, because humans are social animals and can’t help but influence each other, you suspect that other ideas may have some merit. Your belief wavers.
  2. Authority. A person with excessive respect for authorities such as the state or the church or even their peer group simply believes what they are told to believe. A bumper sticker sums it up: “God said it. I believe it. That settles it.” (There is a certain amount of tenacity in this one as well.) This method works until you start to notice the atrocities committed by people with great power and consideration only for their own welfare, especially if the atrocities affect you or your loved ones. Then you start questioning authority and again need to find another way to determine what to believe.
  3. A priori method. This method consists in basing your beliefs on something that seems indubitably true. A great many philosophical systems employ this method, reasoning from a first premise to a whole system. Descartes’ famous Cogito is an example. Peirce says “Systems of this sort have not usually rested upon any observed facts…. They have been chiefly adopted because their fundamental propositions seemed ‘agreeable to reason.’ This is an apt expression; it does not mean that which agrees with experience, but that which we find ourselves inclined to believe.”[18] The issue here is that different people start with different premises without a way to choose between them, and there is no agreement on which one is proper or best.
  4. Scientific method. This method is the only one that works reliably. It assumes that a real world exists independently of what we may think about it and that by carefully examining it we can find out things about it. We come up with beliefs that are not subject to the deficiencies of the other three methods. And it is the only one that is self-correcting.

The scientific method is the only one that ensures that your beliefs will be true, that they will “coincide with the fact,” as Peirce says.[19] The others have their uses. Tenacity buys you peace of mind. Respect for authority stabilizes a community against willful disobedience. The a priori method can be quite pleasing to the intellect. But they are unreliable. Only a method that starts with and returns to careful observation of reality will do.

You don’t have to be a scientist in a laboratory to practice this method. The scientific method is just a formalized approach to everyday problem solving. Suppose your car won’t start. You hypothesize that it’s out of gas. You test your hypothesis by putting gas in it. If it starts, you know you were right (your belief is true); and if it doesn’t, you hypothesize something else. Carefully elaborate that procedure, put in stringent safeguards to isolate the variables so you are sure that you are measuring just what you want, and you have the scientific method. 

Someone might object that knowledge is supposed to be something unassailable, something final, but scientists keep changing their minds. People used to “know” that the earth is flat, but now we know that it is (approximately) round. Science used to tell us that when things burned, they released a substance called phlogiston, but now we know that burning is a process of chemical combination with oxygen. Scientists used to believe that Newtonian physics governed the whole of physical reality, but now they know (or at least believe with good evidence) that on very tiny scales quantum mechanics gives a better explanation and at very large scales the theory of relativity does. But quantum mechanics doesn’t quite jibe with relativity, so maybe we don’t really know anything.

The way out of this skepticism is to note that from an individual point of view what we call knowledge is basically the same as firm belief. One effect of knowing is that you act with confidence; you don’t hesitate. But the same is true of firmly believing. Another effect is that you think others should agree with you and perhaps you try to persuade them, but again the same is true of firmly believing. For clarity, we need to distinguish between an objective view of knowing, that we believe on good evidence something that’s true, and a subjective view, that we are firmly convinced. On the latter view it is no contradiction at all to say that people used to know that the world is flat, but now we know that it’s round.

Instead of saying we know something, we could merely say that we are convinced of it because we have good evidence. Pragmatist Richard Rorty agrees, saying that the term “knowledge” is only “a compliment paid to the beliefs we think so well justified that, for the moment, further justification is not needed.”[20] “Knowledge” and “reliably justified true belief” work equally well to denote the same thing. But of course “knowledge” is shorter and easier to say.

Regardless of what you call them, what we are really after is beliefs we can count on to help us navigate around our world and act in it successfully. The important thing is not what we call our beliefs but to know how to justify them. For that, close observation of reality is key.

###

References

AFPA (American Fitness Professionals & Associates). “Food and Nutrition Debates That You Need to Pay Attention to as a Health Professional.” Online publication https://www.afpafitness.com/blog/8-controversial-nutrition-topics#h-intermittent-fasting as of 18 September 2025.

Cole, Nicki Lisa. “Introduction to the Sociology of Knowledge.” ThoughtCo, May 7, 2025. Online publication https://www.thoughtco.com/sociology-of-knowledge-3026294 as of 22 September 2025.

Dennett, Daniel. Intuition Pumps and Other Tools for Thinking. NY: W. W. Norton and Company, 2013.

Engel, Mylan, Jr. (Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy). “Epistemic Luck.” Online publication https://iep.utm.edu/epi-luck as of 19 September 2025.

Gettier, Edmund. “Is Justified True Belief Knowledge?” Analysis, Vol. 23, No. 6 (Jun., 1963), pp. 121-123. Online publication http://www.jstor.org/stable/3326922 as of 25 August 2009.

Koka, Maya. “Xuanzang & the Gettier Problem.” Philosophy Now, Issue 169, August/September 2025. Online publication https://philosophynow.org/issues/169/Xuanzang_and_the_Gettier_Problem as of 16 September 2025.

Littlejohn, Clayton (Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy). “The New Evil Demon Problem.” Online publication https://iep.utm.edu/evil-new as of 23 September 2025.

Peirce, Charles Saunders. “The Fixation of Belief.” Popular Science Monthly, Vol. 12, pp. 1-15 (November 1877). In Charles S. Peirce: Collected Writings (Values in a Universe of Chance), pp. 91-112. Ed. Philip P. Wiener. New York: Dover Publications, 1958. Online publication http://www.bmeacham.com/whatswhat/OP/Peirce_FixationOfBelief.htm.

Plato. Meno. Tr. G.M.A. Grube. Online publication https://commons.princeton.edu/eng574-s23/wp-content/uploads/sites/348/2023/02/Plato-Meno.pdf as of 17 September 2025.

Rorty, Richard. “Solidarity or Objectivity?” In Relativism: Interpretation and Confrontation ed. Michael Krausz, pp. 167-183. Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1989. Available online at https://sites.pitt.edu/~rbrandom/Courses/Antirepresentationalism%20(2020)/Texts/Rorty%20solidarity-or-objectivity.pdf as of 22 September 2025.

Russell, Bertrand. “On Denoting.” Mind, new series, 14 (October 1905), pp. 479-493. Online publication http://www.jstor.org/stable/2248381 as of 3 July 2014.

Wikipedia. “Daedalus.” Online publication https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Daedalus as of 17 September 2025.

Wikipedia. “Language game (philosophy).” Online publication https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Language_game_(philosophy) as of 22 September 2025.

Wittgenstein, Ludwig. Philosophical Investigations. Tr. G. E. M. Anscombe, P. M. S. Hacker and Joachim Schulte, fourth edition tr. Hacker and Schulte. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing Ltd., 2009.

Notes


[1] Wikipedia, “Daedalus.”

[2] Meno, 97d-98a

[3] AFPA, “Food and Nutrition Debates.”

[4] Gettier, “Is Justified True Belief Knowledge?”, p. 122.

[5] Koka, “Xuanzang & the Gettier Problem.”

[6] Engel, “Epistemic Luck.”

[7] Littlejohn, “The New Evil Demon Problem.”

[8] Dennett, Intuition Pumps, p. 183.

[9] Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations, remark 43.

[10] Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations, remark 7. See also Wikipedia, “Language game.”

[11] Russell, “On Denoting.”

[12] Cole, “Introduction to the Sociology of Knowledge.”

[13] Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations, remark 67.

[14] Peirce, ed. Weiner, “The Fixation of Belief,” pp. 98-99.

[15] Ibid., pp. 98-99.

[16] Ibid., p. 99.

[17] Ibid., pp. 101-108.

[18] Ibid., pp. 105-106

[19] Ibid., p. 111.

[20] Rorty, “Solidarity or Objectivity?”, p.171.

Jul 26 25

The Ontology of Eternal Objects

by Bill Meacham

In his monumental Process and Reality, Alfread North Whitehead lists eight categories of existence and says that among them “actual entities and eternal objects stand out with a certain extreme finality.”[1] Last time we focused on the former and only briefly mentioned the latter. The topic this time is a deep dive into the ontology of eternal objects.

An eternal object is one that is changeless; it’s not affected by time. (Being eternal is not the same as being immortal, meaning living forever. Something could live forever and still change over time.) Bertrand Russell, Whitehead’s colleague and former student, says such objects are “eternal and not in time.”[2] They are called “eternal” because every time we encounter one, it is the same as it was before.

There are two kinds of eternal objects, those of mathematics and logic, now called “abstract objects,” and those of aesthetic and sensory experiences, known since medieval times as “universals.” The two kinds are related but not identical. An abstract object is something that is neither spatial nor temporal, such as a number.[3] A universal is something that can be instantiated by different entities, such as a quality or characteristic that multiple things share.[4] The difference will become clearer as we consider each in detail.

Abstract objects

Abstract objects can seem peculiar. An abstract object is something that, unlike the many physical objects in our world, is neither spatial nor temporal and hence has no causal power.[5] Some examples are numbers, sets, geometrical figures, forms of logical inference, mathematical and logical proofs and the like. Whenever we think of the number two, for instance, it is always the same: an integer one more than one and one less than three. Whenever we think of a circle, it too is always the same: a two-dimensional round figure whose points are equidistant from its center. But we never encounter the number two alone; we always encounter sets of two things such as two potatoes or two sides of a coin. And, as Russell notes, we never encounter an ideal geometrical figure in the physical world either:

Geometry deals with exact circles, but no sensible object is exactly circular; however carefully we may use our compasses, there will be some imperfections and irregularities.[6]

If we never encounter a pure abstract object, then where or in what circumstances does it exist? What is its ontological status?

Universals

Another kind of eternal object is what has historically been called a “universal”. A universal is something posited to explain how individual things can have qualities, features or attributes in common. It is something that can be instantiated by different entities.[7] There are three major kinds of such attributes: types or kinds (e.g. mammal), properties (e.g. short, strong, red) and relations (e.g. father of, next to).[8] Such attributes are called “universal” because each extends over, or is located in, many distinct things.[9]

Take for example a specific shade of red, say that designated by the HTML code #FF0000. The Encyclopedia Britannica entry on universals says,

If a rose and a fire truck are the same colour, … they both exemplify redness, or the property of being red. … The property shared—redness—is [said to be] a third entity, distinct from both the rose and the truck. The two things resemble each other in virtue of standing in the same relation (“exemplification”) to this third entity, which is called a “universal” ….[10]

Just as we never come across a pure abstract object, we also never come across a pure universal. We never encounter redness alone; we encounter only red things. Again, as with abstract objects, we can ask of universals where or in what circumstances they exist. What is the ontological status of a universal? Some researchers take universals to be a form of abstract object[11], but as we shall see, their manner of being differs, so I think it best to treat them separately.

Ontological status

Historically there have been roughly two schools of thought about the ontological status of these things. I say “roughly” because there are numerous permutations and variations of the two schools and even different names for them. I refer to them as “Realism” and “Anti-Realism.” Traditional names are “Platonism” and “Nominalism.”

The Realist position regarding both abstract objects and universals is that they exist in some way independently of our thoughts or perceptions of them; they are said to be mind-independent, as are, obviously, physical objects. The Anti-Realist positions (there are several) say that abstract objects and universals do not exist independently of us. These positions hold that such objects are not real mind-independent entities but either merely concepts (a position sometimes called “conceptualism”) or names (whence the term “nominalism”).[12]

In order to understand the two positions, we need to examine how we encounter the objects in question, abstract objects and universals. We need to look at how they function in our experience. Doing so will enable us to discern which school has a better take on the matter.

Manners of being

My approach is loosely phenomenological in the Continental sense. I examine everyday experience of various kinds of entities without prejudging the status of their existence in order to find out how they appear to us. Metaphorically, at the risk of attributing agency where there is none, I investigate how they make themselves known to us. From the results of that inquiry, we can make judgments about their ontology. I follow Hans Jonas in thinking of ontology as the “manner of being” characteristic of various kinds of entities.[13] The manners of being of abstract objects and universals are different from that of physical objects and from each other.

Physical objects’ manner of being

We take physical entities to exist independently of us because of how they appear to us and how they behave when we interact with them. (I speak here of physical things of middling size in the everyday world, not the very tiny things of the quantum scale, nor those that are astronomically large.) Things in our ordinary experience appear in perspective. We see one side of an object, a tree, say, but not the other side. We fully expect that if we walk around the tree, we will see its other side, and in fact when we walk around it, we do. If we try to occupy the same space as the tree by walking through it, we find that we can’t. A physical object occupies space and has a certain mass. If moving, it has a certain velocity (with respect to our frame of reference) and perhaps a certain acceleration. Physical objects appear in color, or at least in shades of dark and light. They persist. If we turn our back to the tree or close our eyes, when we turn around or open our eyes we see it again. Physical objects change over time, and we can predict the changes well enough to take advantage of them, knowing, for instance, the best time to pick fruit from the tree. Each particular physical object exists in only one place at any given time. Physical objects are knowable by more than one person. We can measure the tree’s height and the circumference of its trunk, and anyone else using the same instruments will come up with the same measurements. For all these reasons it makes abundant sense to believe that physical objects exist in their own right, independently of us. Such belief makes us Realists about physical objects.

Abstract objects’ manner of being

Abstract objects seem to exist independently of us as well, although they do so differently from physical objects. In contrast to physical objects, they have no perspective, no front and back. They have no mass, do not occupy space and have no velocity, acceleration or color. Unlike physical objects, which change over time, abstract objects do not. The number three is now, was always and always will be a prime number. But, like physical objects, abstract objects persist. Whenever we think of them, they appear to us just as they did before, somewhat as a tree does when we open our eyes after closing them. And there are established procedures for investigating them, just as there are for physical objects. If someone proves a mathematical theorem, anyone with the requisite knowledge can verify that the proof is correct.

There is quite a philosophical controversy over the exact ontological status of abstract objects. Do they exist independently of us, or do they depend on us for their existence? Do we discover them, or do we in some sense construct them? It is evident that some things certainly seem like mind-independent facts: that two plus two equals four, that true premises of a valid argument yield a true conclusion, that an equilateral triangle is also equiangular, and so forth. The reality of these things does not depend on whether we believe in them or not, nor on how we feel about them. If we somehow construct them, we do so within very rigid logical constraints; there is only one possible way for each of them to be. And where does that logical constraint come from? Do we construct it? I find it more reasonable to take a Realist position and assert that, like physical objects, abstract objects exist independently of us, although in a different manner.

Universals’ manner of being

Universals resemble abstract objects, but with some important differences. Like abstract objects, they have no perspective, no front and back. You can see the front and back of a red object, but not of the redness itself. They have no mass, and have no velocity or acceleration. Only the objects in which they inhere, not the universals themselves, have such things. But unlike abstract objects, which are not located in space, universals are, or at least the physical objects that instantiate them are. And unlike a physical object, a universal can be in more than one place, for instance in a red rose and a red truck, simultaneously.

Universals don’t have color, although some of them are colors. Many roses are red, but is the redness itself red? Arguably, it is not. Take a different universal, betweenness. A physical object can certainly lie between two others, but it makes no sense to say that betweenness itself is between anything.

Physical objects change over time. Universals, like abstract objects, do not. A particular shade of red is the same every time you see it. (I ignore the Wittgensteinian objection that you can’t know whether it is or not because you have only your memory to compare it to, and you can’t be sure your memory is correct. Whether you can know it or not, you can certainly believe it.) Like particular physical and abstract objects, universals persist, although only to the extent that the objects in which they inhere do so. The rose still appears red when you look back at it after glancing away, but that bit of redness fades when the rose withers and dies. There are established procedures for investigating some types of universals but not all. Art school teaches how to understand colors, and biology treats the classification of various species, but there are no procedures for investigating relations such as above/below, between, next-to and the like.

Importantly, universals differ from abstract entities in another way. Some abstract entities are complex and structurally related to others in a way that universals are not. Consider, for instance, the equation known as Euler’s identity,[14] which contains five different abstract objects and the derivation of which contains more. Unrecognized before Euler proved it, that object is now recognized as always having been true even though nobody knew it. The same cannot be said of universals.

Because universals resemble abstract objects in many ways, we might reasonably say that they also exist independently of us. But because they differ from abstract objects in many ways, we might also reasonably say that they don’t.

The question of how best to characterize nonphysical objects is extensive and has been going on since the time of Plato and Aristotle. (The ancients did not clearly distinguish abstract objects from universals.) There are at least two different Realist views about them, which one author characterizes as Extreme and Strong Realism.[15] The former is Plato’s theory of Forms (Greek Eidos), archetypes that exist entirely independently of physical space and time. The latter dates back to Aristotle and asserts that universals are indeed real, but exist only in particular objects, not outside of them. Depending on your definition of “real,” Aristotle’s view might be taken as Anti-Realist, but historically it is considered a form of Realism.

Anti-Realists about universals claim that there is no need to postulate such strange entities to account for our experience of properties, relations and kinds. There are numerous varieties of Anti-Realism about universals, many with clever names such as Trope Theory, Predicate Nominalism, Conceptualism, Ostrich Nominalism, Mereological Nominalism, Class Nominalism, Resemblance Nominalism and Causal Nominalism.[16] (You may be forgiven for suspecting that philosophers make up puzzles in order to have fun trying to solve them.)

Of all these, the author’s favorite is Resemblance Nominalism, a form of Conceptualism. The basic notion is that we form concepts of universals based on how they resemble each other.[17] Red things are obviously different from blue things, and we form a concept of redness based on their similarity to each other and their difference from things colored differently. In my opinion, there is no need to posit the existence of non-physical entities to account for universals. Whitehead, however, disagrees; he is a Realist about universals.

Summary

Abstract objects and universals are undeniably elements in our experience. Different as they are, they share one common characteristic: we never find them existing on their own. Regarding abstract objects, we never find a perfect circle; we only find particular images of circles. We never find an abstract logical form such as modus ponens; we only find particular instances of it with particular premises and conclusions. We never find just a number, say five; we only find collections of five things. Regarding universals, we never find just redness; we only find red things. We never find just mammalness; we only find particular mammals such as a dog or a beaver. We never find just fatherness; we only find particular fathers with their own particular offspring. This commonality leads Whitehead to lump abstract objects and universals together, calling them both “eternal objects”:

Any entity whose conceptual recognition does not involve a necessary reference to any definite actual entities of the temporal world is called an “eternal object.”[18]

Whitehead actually has no need to posit universals that subsist in isolation from actuality. Arguably, Anti-Realism about universals makes more sense than Realism. We form concepts of qualities that resemble each other and differ from other qualities. We give names to them and then take the fact that the names exist to mean that the qualities exist wholly apart from the ways we use those names. But rather than referring to unchanging essences, the names serve as tokens in various language games, as Wittgenstein would call them.[19] They enable us to talk about and deal with things that resemble each other. But that’s all. We don’t need to think that they refer to things that subsist on their own. But universals are only one kind of eternal object. The other kind is abstract objects, and they are better thought of as mind-independently real, as I argue above. Whitehead does need to account for them.

To summarize, we have two categories of things that can be said to exist independently of whether anyone is currently perceiving or thinking of them, physical objects and abstract objects, and another whose status is unclear, universals. (A fourth category, socially constructed entities, is beyond the scope of this paper.[20]) The manners of being of the mind-independent ones are different. That difference leads Bertrand Russell to say that universals, in which category he includes abstract objects, “subsist” instead of exist.[21] But that just puts a label on it; it does not explain this state of affairs. Whitehead aims to explain it. (To be continued.)

###

References

Balaguer, Mark. “Platonism in Metaphysics”. The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Spring 2016 Edition), Edward N. Zalta & Uri Nodelman (eds.). Online publication http://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2016/entries/platonism/ as of 5 January 2025.

Falguera, Jose L., Martinez-Vidal, Concha, & Rosen, Gideon. “Abstract Objects.” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2022 Edition), Edward N. Zalta & Uri Nodelman (eds.) Online publication https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2022/entries/abstract-objects/ as of 5 January 2025.

Jonas, Hans. Mortality and Morality: A Search for the Good after Auschwitz. Ed. Lawrence Vogel. Evanston, Illinois: Northwestern University Press, 1996.

MacLeod, Mary C. and Eric M. Rubenstein. “Universals.” Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Online publication https://iep.utm.edu/universa/ as of 3 November 2024.

Meacham, Bill. “Reassessing Morality”. Online publication https://bmeacham.com/whatswhat/ReassessingMorality_v3.html, Also available at https://www.academia.edu/42263176/Reassessing_Morality as of 17 May 2025.

Rodriguez-Pereyra, Gonzalo. “Nominalism in Metaphysics”. The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2019 Edition), Edward N. Zalta & Uri Nodelman (eds.) Online publication https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2019/entries/nominalism-metaphysics/ as of 5 January 2025.

Russell, Bertrand. A History of Western Philosophy. New York: Simon and Schuster, 1945.

Russell, Bertrand. The Problems of Philosophy, Project Gutenberg PDF edition. Online publication http://www.gutenberg.org/files/5827/5827-h/5827-h.htm as of 8 July 2018.

Whitehead, Alfred North. Process And Reality: An Essay in Cosmology, Corrected Edition ed. David Ray Griffin and Donald W. Sherburne. New York: The Free Press, 1978. (Original edition New York: Macmillan, 1929.)

Wikipedia. “Euler’s identity.” Online publication https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Euler%27s_identity as of 9 January 2025.

Wikipedia. “Universal (metaphysics).” Online publication https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Universal_(metaphysics) as of 2 November 2024.

Wittgenstein, Ludwig. Philosophical Investigations. Tr. G. E. M. Anscombe, P. M. S. Hacker and Joachim Schulte, fourth edition tr. Hacker and Schulte. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing Ltd., 2009.

Zimmerman, Dean W. “Universal.” Britannica Encyclopedia Online publication https://www.britannica.com/topic/universal as of 3 November 2024.

Notes


[1] Whitehead, Process and Reality, p. 22.

[2] Russell, History of Western Philosophy, p. 37.

[3] Rodriguez-Pereyra, “Nominalism in Metaphysics”, single column PDF p. 2. See also Falguera et al., “Abstract Objects.”

[4] Rodriguez-Pereyra, “Nominalism in Metaphysics”, single column PDF p. 2. See also Zimmerman, “Universal.”

[5] Rodriguez-Pereyra, “Nominalism in Metaphysics”, single column PDF p. 4.

[6] Russell, The Problems of Philosophy, Chapter IX.

[7] Rodriguez-Pereyra, “Nominalism in Metaphysics”, single column PDF p. 2.

[8] Rodriguez-Pereyra, “Nominalism in Metaphysics”, single column PDF p. 7.

[9] Zimmerman, “Universal.”

[10] Zimmerman, “Universal.”

[11] Balaguer, “Platonism in Metaphysics”, single column PDF p. 3.

[12] Wikipedia, “Universal (metaphysics).”

[13] Jonas, Mortality and Morality, p. 88.

[14] Wikipedia, “Euler’s identity.”

[15] MacLeod, et. al., “Universals.”

[16] Rodriguez-Pereyra, “Nominalism in Metaphysics”, single column PDF pp. 11-18.

[17] Rodriguez-Pereyra, “Nominalism in Metaphysics”, single column PDF pp. 16-18.

[18] Whitehead, PR, p. 44.

[19] Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations, Remark 7.

[20] See Meacham, “Reassessing Morality.”

[21] Russell, The Problems of Philosophy, pp. 37-38.

Jun 18 25

The Least Units of Reality

by Bill Meacham

(This essay originally appeared in the online journal Drops & Buds, Vernal Equinox 2025 edition.)

Last time, we saw that actual entities, also termed, with one important exception, “actual occasions,” are the fundamental building blocks of reality according to 20th century philosopher Alfred North Whitehead. We saw that they constitute themselves by incorporating aspects of the world around them, a process Whitehead calls “prehension.” This time we’ll take a look at them in more detail.

Whitehead’s view is atomistic; he takes the world to be composed of tiny entities that are not further decomposable. It is also dynamic; in contrast to classical physics, he asserts that these entities are not bits of inert stuff but rather events, and these events are inherently intertwined and related to each other.

He wrote at a time when quantum mechanics was being developed, and the mysterious behavior of reality at the subatomic level informed his thinking.[1] Entities submicroscopically small are not material as we generally think of materiality. Quantum-level entities do not bounce around at the mercy of external forces like billiard balls; instead, they seem to have a quasi-existence in a field of mere potentiality until they are detected; then they become actual. The interaction between them and someone or something else that detects them is essential to their existence. Reality at that level is relational and dynamic.

Whitehead’s revolutionary insight was to add panpsychism to quantum mechanics. He asserts that these tiny entities are in a rudimentary way aware of their surroundings. Panpsychism is the idea that everything material has also an aspect of psyche, or mind. It asserts that both matter and experience are equally fundamental. Everything, in addition to its material aspect, has an aspect of psyche or mind to it. This theory is rather obviously anthropomorphic, but that’s a feature, not a bug.

Whitehead seeks categories of explanation that can apply to both the quantum level of reality and the world revealed by our unaided senses. In our everyday world it is undeniable that, unless we are asleep or sedated, we are aware of our surroundings and remember our past. And, of course, others can be aware of us. So, Whitehead posits that subatomic actual occasions also are, in a way, aware of their surroundings and of their own past. Whitehead calls them “drops of experience, complex and interdependent”[2] and “occasions of experience.”[3] The tiniest actual occasion is structurally similar to a moment of rich human experience, albeit in a rudimentary, attenuated form. Whitehead speaks of actual occasion as being “dipolar,” having both a physical and a mental pole. He says that “No actual entity is devoid of either pole.”[4]

The process whereby an actual occasion comes into being is called “concrescence.” Concrescence is a term from biology that means the growing together of parts that were originally separate. Whitehead uses it to refer to the process of an actual occasion’s coming into being. That process consists of several phases, the details of which we will get to shortly, and the end result is a fully actual submicroscopic quantum entity.

Occasions and objects

These actual occasions, the least units of reality, are a bit like subatomic particles, with some important differences:

  • Each is momentary, coming into being, going through various phases and then passing away.
  • The final phase of an actual occasion is not fully determined by the beginning. There is room for novelty, for the possibility of something new coming into being.
  • Each actual occasion experiences, in a primitive way, its past and its present surroundings.[5] Metaphorically, it has an inside, an aspect experienceable only by itself.
  • Each actual occasion is experienced by other actual occasions. Metaphorically, it has an outside, an aspect experienceable by others.
  • What we think of as a particle is actually a series of these actual occasions. A single electron is a series of momentary electron-occasions that form an enduring object much like the momentary frames of a movie form a continuous picture.
  • What Whitehead calls “God” has a crucial role to play in the process that an actual occasion goes through as it comes into being.

Whitehead’s metaphysics is comprehensive and immense, and each element depends for its meaning on all the others, much like reality itself. To fully explicate the idea of actual occasions, I need to introduce two additional concepts, that of eternal objects and that of God.

Eternal Objects

Whitehead’s term “eternal object” includes both what philosophers call “abstract objects” and “universals”. An abstract object is something that, unlike the many physical objects in our world, is neither spatial nor temporal and hence has no causal power.[6] Some examples are numbers, sets, geometrical figures, forms of logical inference, mathematical and logical proofs and the like. A universal is something posited to explain how individual things can have qualities, features or attributes in common. It is something that can be instantiated by different entities.[7] There are three major kinds of such attributes: types or kinds (e.g. mammal), properties (e.g. short, strong, red) and relations (e.g. father of, next to).[8] Such attributes are called “universal” because each extends over, or is located in, many distinct things.[9]

Abstract objects and universals share one common characteristic: we never find them existing on their own. We never find a perfect circle; we find only particular images of circles. We never find just redness; we find only red things. This commonality leads Whitehead to lump abstract objects and universals together, calling them both “eternal objects”:

Any entity whose conceptual recognition does not involve a necessary reference to any definite actual entities of the temporal world is called an “eternal object.”[10]

They are called “eternal” because they do not change. Every time we encounter one, it is the same as it was before. Whitehead’s concern is how to account for such objects in his metaphysics. His solution is to invoke what he calls “God.”

God

God is a unique part of Whitehead’s scheme. God is an actual entity of a most peculiar sort. God is the one actual entity that is not an actual occasion.[11] Unlike all other actual entities, God is not submicroscopic. All actual entities except God are temporal, meaning that first they don’t exist, then they do, and then they fade and become part of the past. But God is non-temporal (but not eternal).[12] That means that God always exists. God is present in the world of every actual occasion, and is thus available to be prehended, that is, to be incorporated into, every occasion.

Like other actual entities, God is dipolar, having two aspects.[13] The first Whitehead calls the “primordial nature” of God, and the second, the “consequent nature.” The primordial aspect acts as a repository for eternal objects. The consequent aspect is how God interacts with the world.[14] In combination, the effect is that God prehends, or feels, every actual entity and enduring object in the world and offers eternal objects to new concrescing occasions. God’s goal in this offering is “harmony of … universal feeling,” resulting in “truth, beauty and goodness.”[15]

Much more can be said about God, and perhaps that will be a topic for another time. For now, we focus on the role of God in the process of concrescence.

The process of concrescence

As an occasion concresces into something definite and actual, it goes through several phases. Whitehead’s account of this process is extremely complicated. He describes phases and subphases of the process and several varieties of prehensions, the number of which can vary from occasion to occasion.

Even though he speaks of them as occurring in sequence, these phases are not in objective time. They are entirely internal to the actual occasion. Time in Whitehead’s view is not a universal and infinitely divisible Newtonian container. Instead, time is a function of interrelationships of actual occasions. It comes in chunks, a view he calls the “epochal theory of time.”[16] Citing William James, he says,

Either your experience is of no content, of no change, or it is of a perceptible amount of content or change. Your acquaintance with reality grows literally by buds or drops of perception. Intellectually and on reflection you can divide these into components, but as immediately given, they come totally or not at all.[17]

Each actual occasion is one of these buds or drops. The time-like sequence of phases internal to each actual occasion is completely private and is incommensurable with the time that arises from the interaction among actual occasions. Viewed from the outside, a quantum object is either detected or it’s not. In Whitehead’s terms, it is either actual or it’s not. Considered from its own point of view, however, it goes through phases.

In this paper I can provide only a simplified description of the internal process of an occasion of experience becoming actual.[18]

  1. The occasion comes into being desiring to be something definite. Whitehead calls that desire its “initial aim.” Initially it might aim at being just a copy of the actual occasion immediately preceding it, or it might aim at being a variation of the preceding occasion. According to his ontological principle—that the only reason for something existing is the existence of something else—, that aim has to come from some actual entity.[19] Whitehead says that entity is God:

God is the principle of concretion; namely, he is that actual entity from which each temporal concrescence receives that initial aim from which its self-causation starts.[20]

  1. Having begun to be, it prehends the physical feeling of its immediate predecessor. Whitehead often uses the term “feeling” as a synonym for prehension.[21] The concrescing actual occasion feels how it was to be the one just prior to it, including how its surrounding actual occasions and enduring objects appeared to it.
  2. It then adds conceptual prehensions, sometimes termed “conceptual feelings,” which are ideas of or about the physical feelings. These become the mental pole of the occasion. These nascent concepts enable the emerging actual occasion to recognize what is around it. The concepts thus prehended are eternal objects, which Whitehead says “ingress” into the occasion.

The conceptual prehensions of the physical feelings are valuational. On the basis of the initial aim, some of the actual entities and enduring objects are selected to be incorporated into the occasion and many more are rejected. Those rejected are called “negative prehensions.” Whitehead says that an actual entity’s entire world is prehended into it, but most of that world is via negative prehensions.

The mental pole of the emerging actual occasion comprises numerous eternal objects. The conceptual prehensions of eternal objects are also valuational. God envisions or contains within Itself all possible eternal objects. Only some become relevant to the concrescing occasion. God provides not only a plethora of eternal objects but a preference for some of them over others. Whitehead calls God in this aspect a “lure for feeling.”

He is the lure for feeling, the eternal urge of desire. His particular relevance to each creative act, as it arises from its own conditioned standpoint in the world, constitutes him [as] the initial ‘object of desire’ establishing the initial phase of each subjective aim.[22]

  1. The occasion in process of becoming integrates these many prehensions, these many physical feelings, conceptual feelings and hybrids of them, into one final feeling that incorporates them all. Whitehead calls this final feeling the occasion’s “satisfaction.” He says,

The problem which the concrescence solves is, how the many components of the objective content are to be unified in one felt content with its complex subjective form. This one felt content is the ‘satisfaction,’ whereby the actual entity is its particular individual self ….[23]

The notion of ‘satisfaction’ is the notion of the ‘entity as concrete’ abstracted from the ‘process of concrescence’; it is the outcome separated from the process ….[24]

… the ‘satisfaction’ of an entity can only be discussed in terms of the usefulness of that entity. … The tone of feeling embodied in this satisfaction passes into the world beyond ….[25]

In other words, an actual entity’s final feeling of satisfaction is what becomes the initial feeling of its successor. Whitehead says,

In its self-creation the actual entity is guided by its ideal of itself as individual satisfaction and as transcendent creator. The enjoyment of this ideal is the ‘subjective aim,’ by reason of which the actual entity is a determinate process.[26]

Notably, this integration may or may not agree with God’s preference. For Whitehead God does not determine what the occasion is when it finally becomes fully actual. God suggests but does not command.

A view from the inside

To understand this a different way, let’s imagine being an actual occasion. Imagine how things would appear from that point of view.

Occasion 1

A world appears. You take it in. You scan it, assess it, evaluate it. Vague feelings of colors and shapes are there. They seem familiar. You recognize them. Now many things are there. There are directions, feelings of upness and downness. Upness feels more attractive. You decide to proceed up, and you do so.

You take all these things in until you have certain degree of satisfaction with what you are taking in, a certain feeling of having made sense of it. Then the world is gone, and you don’t know it because you are gone. There’s no you who can know.

Occasion 2

A world appears. You take it in. You scan it, assess it, evaluate it. Vague feelings of colors and shapes are there. They seem familiar. You recognize them. Now many things are there. You remember having proceeded up. That’s familiar. You feel a certain momentum of going up, and it feels good to do that. You decide to continue to proceed up, and you do so.

You take all this in until you have certain degree of satisfaction with what you are taking in, a certain feeling of having made sense of it. Then the world is gone, and you don’t know it because you are gone. There’s no you who can know.

Occasion 3

A world appears. You take it in. You scan it, assess it, evaluate it. Vague feelings of colors and shapes are there. They seem familiar. You recognize them. Now many things are there. You feel a certain momentum of going up and find that you are proceeding up. You feel like going down; the idea of going down is attractive. But you decide to keep going up, and you do so.

You take all this in until you have certain degree of satisfaction with what you are taking in, a certain feeling of having made sense of it. Then the world is gone, and you don’t know it because you are gone. There’s no you who can know.

Occasion 4

A world appears. You take it in. You scan it, assess it, evaluate it. Vague feelings of colors and shapes are there. They don’t seem familiar. You don’t recognize them. Now many things are there. You remember a certain momentum of going up, but now you find that you are stationary. You feel like continuing, but you can’t. You have a sense that others around you can sense you, that you’ve been detected.

You feel a certain contentment at having been detected at just that spot, a spot that is perfect for you. It’s as if you have fulfilled a mission that you hadn’t quite known was yours. You decide to stay where you are, and you do so.

You take all this in until you have certain degree of satisfaction with what you are taking in, a certain feeling of having made sense of it. Then the world is gone, and you don’t know it because you are gone. There’s no you who can know.

These scenarios represent a single electron’s path through a magnetic field in a Stern-Gerlach experiment.[27] (Remember, the electron is composed of numerous actual occasions in sequence.) Named after the scientists who first performed it, the experiment consists of sending a series of electrons through a magnetic field, which deflects them. The magnetic field is stronger at one end than at the other, a condition that causes the electron to swerve a bit, toward one pole of the field or the other, as it passes through. On the other side of the field from the emitter is a recording medium, which registers where the electron hits the medium. Each electron is detected at one of two places on the medium, depending on a property of the electron called “spin.” The experiment corroborates the quantized nature of reality at this very tiny level; the electron is detected in one of only two places rather than in a range between them. It also corroborates quantum indeterminacy: you cannot predict in advance where the electron will be detected.

These scenarios may seem quite fanciful. They are guesswork, of course, but they are informed guesswork. The experience of an actual occasion, although quite primitive compared to our everyday wakeful experience, is nevertheless structurally similar. (This comparison is imaginative, of course, as we can’t really experience the world from another point of view, but the alternative is to avoid talking about subjectivity altogether. That won’t do, as subjectivity is an essential element of Whitehead’s philosophy.)

The world’s appearing, the subject’s initial taking it in and the sense of familiarity are intended to portray the early phases of concrescence in which physical prehensions are paramount. The vague feelings represent purely physical prehensions. Familiarity is the prehended feeling of the satisfaction of the prior occasion.

The recognition and the appearance of discrete things are intended to portray the ingression of eternal objects, which give form to the physical prehensions. The feelings of attraction are their valuational aspects.

The decision is intended to portray what Whitehead refers to by the same term. “The word is used in its root sense of a ‘cutting off’,” he says.[28] The entity makes actual only one possibility, for instance going up rather than down, and thereby discards all the others.

The satisfaction is intended to represent the final phase of concrescence. Satisfaction is a state of completeness. When a meal leaves you satisfied, you quit eating; you are done with it. Just so, when an occasion’s concrescence reaches satisfaction, the process ceases and the occasion becomes actual.

Final Thoughts

Whitehead was a mathematician and philosopher, not a healing professional. Nevertheless, the process of concrescence that an occasion of experience goes through in becoming actual may be likened to the process of personal and transpersonal growth that a person goes through in healing from trauma and becoming, as Stanislav Grof might say, more whole.[29] An occasion of experience integrates into one unified whole many physical and mental prehensions of actuality and many ingressions of eternal objects. Similarly, a process of personal growth involves integrating and understanding many different components of personhood, including past experiences; present bodily feelings; present, past and hoped-for future relationships with others; emotional feelings and their somatic release; and one’s own ideal of what sort of person one would like to be. To this list Whitehead would add the ideal of unique personhood that one receives as if by grace from a reality much greater and wiser than oneself, a topic to which I hope to return. The goal of the actual occasion is to become fully itself in harmony with its world. The goal of the growth facilitated by numerous therapeutic techniques and spiritual traditions of the world is the same.

###

References

Grof, Stanislav. “The Theory and Practice of Holotropic Breathwork.” Online publication https://holotropic-association-na.org/breathwork/how-to-ensure-safety-quality-criteria-for-gtt-facilitators as of 28 February 2025.

Harrison, David M. “The Stern-Gerlach Experiment, Electron Spin, and Correlation Experiments.” On-line publication http://www.upscale.utoronto.ca/GeneralInterest/Harrison/SternGerlach/SternGerlach.html as of 29 August 2007.

James, William. Some Problems of Philosophy: A Beginning of an Introduction to Philosophy. New York: Longman, Greens and Co., 1911. Online publication https://dn720400.ca.archive.org/0/items/someproblemsofph01jame/someproblemsofph01jame.pdf as of 10 February 2025.

Lawrence, Nathaniel. Alfred North Whitehead: A Primer of his Philosophy. New York: Twain Publishers, 1974.

Rodriguez-Pereyra, Gonzalo. “Nominalism in Metaphysics”. The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Summer 2019 Edition), Edward N. Zalta & Uri Nodelman (eds.) Online publication https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/sum2019/entries/nominalism-metaphysics/ as of 5 January 2025

Whitehead, Alfred North. Adventures of Ideas. New York: The Free Press, 1967.

Whitehead, Alfred North. Process And Reality: An Essay in Cosmology, Corrected Edition ed. David Ray Griffin and Donald W. Sherburne. New York: The Free Press, 1978. Abbreviated in the notes as “PR”.

Wikipedia. “Stern-Gerlach experiment.” On-line publication https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stern–Gerlach_experiment as of 29 August 2007.

Zimmerman, Dean W. “Universal.” Britannica Encyclopedia Online publication https://www.britannica.com/topic/universal as of 3 November 2024.

Notes


[1] Whitehead, PR, p. 116. See also pp. 78 and 91.

[2] Whitehead, PR, p. 18.

[3] Whitehead, Adventures of Ideas, p. 221.

[4] Whitehead, PR, p. 239.

[5] Technically, it experiences the surroundings of its immediate past, but for our purposes the less precise formulation is sufficient. Whitehead was conversant with Einstein’s theories of relativity as well as with quantum mechanics. He says “… the general philosophical doctrine of relativity … is presupposed in the philosophy of organism…” (PR, p. 66).

[6] Rodriguez-Pereyra, “Nominalism in Metaphysics”, single column PDF p. 4

[7] Rodriguez-Pereyra, “Nominalism in Metaphysics”, single column PDF p. 2

[8] Rodriguez-Pereyra, “Nominalism in Metaphysics”, single column PDF p. 7.

[9] Zimmerman, “Universal.”

[10] Whitehead, PR, p. 44.

[11] Whitehead, PR, p. 88.

[12] Whitehead, PR, p.7.

[13] Whitehead, PR, p. 345.

[14] Whitehead, PR, pp. 87-88.

[15] Whitehead, PR, p. 346.

[16] Whitehead, PR, p. 283.

[17] Whitehead, PR. p. 63. James, Some Problems of Philosophy, p. 155.

[18] In this section I draw from numerous places in PR and from Lawrence, Alfred North Whitehead, chapter 3, pp. 68-78.

[19] Whitehead, PR. p. 24.

[20] Whitehead, PR, p. 244.

[21] Whitehead, PR, p. 220.

[22] Whitehead, PR, p. 344.

[23] Whitehead, PR, p. 154.

[24] Whitehead, PR, p. 84.

[25] Whitehead, PR, p. 85.

[26] Whitehead, PR, p. 85.

[27] Wikipedia, “Stern-Gerlach experiment”; Harrison, “The Stern-Gerlach Experiment.”

[28] Whitehead, PR, p. 43.

[29] Grof, “The Theory and Practice of Holotropic Breathwork.”

May 3 25

Alfred North Whitehead and Unitary Experience

by Bill Meacham

(This essay originally appeared in the online journal Drops & Buds, Autumnal Equinox 2024 edition.)

Many people who have undergone mystical experiences, whether induced by substances such as LSD or by practices such as Holotropic Breathwork, meditation and the like, report feeling connected with everything around them, having a sense of oneness with the entire cosmos. The process metaphysics of Alfred North Whitehead, a philosopher of the early 20th century, provides a conceptual framework within which to understand such experiences and to attest to their veracity.

Panpsychism

Although he did not use the term himself, Whitehead’s metaphysics is a form of panpsychism, the idea that everything material has also an aspect of psyche, or mind. He says that the aim of metaphysics is to frame a system of general ideas that can be used to interpret every element of our experience. By “interpret” he means that “everything of which we are conscious, as enjoyed, perceived, willed or thought, shall have the character of a particular instance of the general scheme.”[1] It is undeniable that things in our experience are material. And it is undeniable that we experience them. Hence a metaphysical scheme must have a place for both. Panpsychism asserts that both matter and experience are equally fundamental. Everything, in addition to its material aspect, has an aspect of psyche or mind to it. That is not to say that mind is somehow more fundamental than matter; it’s called “panpsychism” only because we already assume everything is physical. I suppose it should really be called “panphysicopsychism,” because it asserts everything is composed of both matter and mind, that everything has both an objective (physical) and subjective (psychical), or mental, aspect.

Process

Panpsychism has a long history going back to the ancient Greeks.[2] Whitehead’s novel elaboration of it is to ground it in the notion of process. He says that reality is best understood as composed of events rather than things. The essential character of all that exists is change, and enduring objects are persisting patterns amid change, much like the flame of a candle. This view has also been present in European thought from the time of the Greeks. The Greek word physis, from which we get our words “physics” and “physical,” comes from a root that means “to grow”, “to develop” or “to become.”[3] Heraclitus used the metaphor of a river, which remains what it is by changing what it contains.[4] Change is a necessary condition for constancy; without it we would have only lifeless uniformity and would not even know it, because knowing itself is a temporal process.

Process Panpsychism

Whitehead postulates that reality is made up of atomic or momentary events, not inert particles, each of which has two aspects, mental and physical. We could call Whitehead’s metaphysics a process panpsychism. In a primordial way each event experiences its surroundings and is experienced by other events. This is not an intuitive idea, and Whitehead’s major work, Process and Reality, is dense and highly technical, over 500 pages long. I’ll try to summarize it briefly. These events, which Whitehead calls “actual occasions” and “actual entities”[5] are a bit like subatomic particles, with some important differences:

  • Each is momentary, coming into being, going through various phases and then passing away.
  • The final phase of an actual occasion is not fully determined by the beginning. There is room for novelty, for the possibility of something new coming into being.
  • Each actual occasion experiences, in a primordial way, its past and its present surroundings. Whitehead calls it an “occasion of experience.”[6] Metaphorically, it has an inside, an aspect experienceable only by itself.
  • Each actual occasion is experienced by other actual occasions. Metaphorically, it has an outside, an aspect experienceable by others.
  • What we think of as a particle is actually a series of these occasions. A single electron is a series of momentary electron-occasions that form an enduring object much like the momentary frames of a movie form a continuous picture.
  • Nonliving things are composed of streams of actual occasions whose primordial experiences randomly cancel each other out. A rock as a whole does not have a mind.
  • The primordial experiences of the actual occasions composing living things, such as plants, animals and human beings, bind together and reinforce each other, giving birth to a higher-level experience. The richest and most intricate example we know of is our own consciousness.

This version of Panpsychism does not assert that rocks have psyches in the same way that humans do. That would be ridiculous, as rocks exhibit none of the complex behavior of humans. Instead, the most plausible version of the theory, which philosopher Galen Strawson calls “micropsychism,”[7] is that the elementary building blocks of the world take their world into account in a way analogous to but much simpler than the way we humans experience our world. Sequences of such events form what we know as quantum entities such as muons, quarks and the like, which combine to form the everyday objects, living and non-living, that we are familiar with. Some combinations, like stones, have no subjectivity of their own. Others, living beings, do.[8] But all are composed of entities that, like us, have both aspects.

This theory is rather obviously anthropomorphic, but that’s a feature, not a bug. To construct a coherent metaphysics Whitehead starts with what we know most intimately, our own experience. Instead of assuming that the world is fundamentally full of unliving particles and then trying to figure out how our ability to be conscious arises from them, he starts with the undeniable fact that we are conscious and figures out how unliving stuff fits into the picture. Rather than assuming that consciousness mysteriously emerges when brute matter becomes organized in sufficient complexity, we can assume that a primitive form of experience is present at every level of reality. Then we need make no unverifiable suppositions about which animals are conscious and which are not, nor do we have to puzzle over how mere complexity of matter gives rise to consciousness. Reality is a continuum, all aspects of which have some degree of mentality as well as physicality.

Prehension

The key to understanding extraordinary experiences of cosmic unity lies in what Whitehead calls prehension, a technical term in his system.[9] In zoology and biology that term means the ability to grasp or seize something. Think of getting a drink of water; you reach out and pick up the glass in order to bring it to your mouth. It’s an active process. Similarly with vision. Most of the time we don’t just passively absorb what is before our eyes. Instead, we pay attention to certain features of what surrounds us and let the rest recede into the background. We can think of paying attention as a visual form of reaching out and grasping.

Whitehead extends the term to encompass actual occasions, which do something similar. Each one comes into being by prehending the qualities of its predecessors and its surroundings and binding them together into a new occasion of experience.[10] It’s not a passive process. It’s not a matter of an entity coming into being and then merely absorbing impressions of its surroundings. The impressions—the prehensions, as Whitehead says—actually constitute the new occasion.[11] There’s nothing to the new occasion other than what is prehended.

And what is prehended is both physical and mental. Each actual occasion prehends all the aspects, both interior and exterior, of its prior actual occasion and of the actual occasions and enduring objects in its surroundings. Not only does it prehend the physical aspects of what surrounds it, it prehends the mental aspects as well. Whitehead speaks of “the transmission of mental feeling.”[12] The actual occasion does more than detect and incorporate the outward appearance of its neighbors. It also, as the hippies used to say, picks up their vibes.

To the best of my knowledge, Whitehead does not spell out the situation in precisely these terms, but the upshot is that actual occasions and the enduring objects that they make up are not shut in their own windowless skins. Individuals are not as separate mentally as we think. Panpsychism says that mentality suffuses and pervades all beings. It can “leak,” as it were, from mind to mind.

Many of us have had mild psychic or telepathic experiences. A wife asks where her glasses are; her husband has a mental image of their location but does not say it out loud; and then she says “I bet they’re over here,” and so they are. One thinks of a friend, and then the friend calls or emails. Those who are talented with animals know that visualizing a desired scenario—that the animal be docile when approached, for instance—tends to make it happen. A comprehensive metaphysics needs to incorporate that aspect of full-blown human experience as well. The ability to prehend mentality is the micro-level basis of such phenomena.

Unitary Experience

According to Whitehead, each actual occasion prehends not only its immediate predecessor and those around it, but ultimately all of reality. He says,

An actual entity has a perfectly definite bond with each item in the universe. … All actual entities in the actual world, relatively to a given actual entity as ‘subject’ are necessarily ‘felt’ by that subject, though in general vaguely.[13]

“Felt” here means the same as “prehended.” As it comes into being by constituting itself, each actual occasion feels the entire universe and incorporates it into itself via prehension. Obviously, the elements closest to it in time and space are most prominent, but it feels everything. The feelings of entities far from the arising actual occasion tend to merge into a kind of background atmosphere or mood. To use an auditory metaphor, they are like a background hum. For conscious entities such as ourselves they are most often overlooked as the focal object dominates. But whether noted or not, they are present.

Anyone who has ingested so-called “mind-expanding” substances knows that one of their prominent effects is that the world appears different. Things become more vivid, more vibrant and intense. They are, as it were, amplified. Small details become vivid enough that you notice them. They become, from a first-person point of view, focal rather than peripheral. What was in the mostly-overlooked background of your experience comes to occupy the foreground. To use a metaphor from photography, you zoom in on what is before you.

In extreme cases, the background becomes overwhelmingly intense. Everyone’s experience is unique, of course, but certain similarities and themes appear in post-experience reports. In some cases. the zoomed-in details may be memories, previously occluded, of things that happened to you when you were young or even, seemingly, from a prior life. In others, the quality of the present world becomes so intense that it drowns out your thoughts and even your sense of self. The cognitive and emotional filters through which you normally perceive your world are obliterated. What remains is sheer suchness; sheer presentational immediacy as Whitehead calls it.[14] You have no verbal categories with which to understand it. The experience is ineffable. Having no words, you have no concept of self and, looking back on it later, you feel that you were merged with everything, that you and the world were continuous, even identical.

If Whitehead is correct, such experiences are not illusory. Whitehead himself, never having experienced either psychedelic substances or holotropic therapy, says nothing about them, but researcher Leonard Gibson surmises that

The deepening of experience under psychedelic influence brings a person experientially into the timelessness of the actual event that is the single, present occasion in the society [the series of actual occasions] that exhibits the person’s thread of identity.[15]

Whether you become conscious of the internals of a single actual occasion or of an enduring entity, the one that you are, composed of multiple strands of occasions is a matter for scholarly debate. In either case it is clear that such experiences should not be dismissed as mere illusion or hallucination. Apart from the pragmatic conclusion that they should be considered veridical because they can have great therapeutic value, Whitehead’s metaphysics offers a coherent and comprehensive account that makes sense of such peak experiences and lends credence to the conclusion that, yes, you are connected intimately with the whole of reality.

Whitehead calls his scheme a philosophy of organism.[16] If the whole of reality is to be understood on the model of organism, then we ourselves are not only organisms in our own right but elements in a larger organic whole. We interpenetrate each other psychically; none of us is an island; what happens to one of us affects us all. Hence, it behooves us to try to alleviate suffering and promote health and well-being for everyone. Each of us bears within him- or herself the imprint of the whole of which he or she is a part. Hence, it behooves us to learn about the nature of that whole so that we can more consciously embody and enact it. We need, in other words, what the wisdom traditions of the world have long taught: compassion and insight.


[1] Whitehead, Process and Reality, p. 4.

[2] Goff, et. al., “Panpsychism.”

[3] Wikipedia, “Physis.”

[4] Wikipedia, “Heraclitus.”

[5] Whitehead, Process and Reality, p. 32

[6] Whitehead, Adventures of Ideas, p. 221.

[7] Strawson, “Realistic Monism,” p. 25.

[8] For a fuller discussion see Meacham, “A Whiteheadian Solution to the Combination Problem.”

[9] Whitehead, Process and Reality, pp. 28-29, 32, 35.

[10] That’s a simplification. Actual occasions also incorporate into themselves what Whitehead calls “eternal objects”, but they are beyond the scope of this essay. See Process and Reality, pp. 35 and 37.

[11] Cobb, Whitehead Word Book, p. 32.

[12] Whitehead, Process and Reality, p. 469.

[13] Whitehead, Process and Reality, p. 66.

[14] Whitehead, Process and Reality, pp. 185ff.

[15] Gibson, “A Whiteheadian Perspective.”

[16] Whitehead, Process and Reality, p. 75.

Apr 25 24

Letter to Jada and Vicky

by Bill Meacham
Picture of picnic table with "Jada + Vicky" and a heart painted on it.

We found your announcement of your love in the park the other day. Cool! We love you (in a sort of abstract way, because we don’t even know you) and wish you the very best. We’re happy for your love.

Here’s a way for you to make your love even stronger. Instead of advertising it publicly, let it seep out of you throughout the day. You know that warm, scrumptious feeling you have when you are with the one you love? Remember it and hold on to it. Feel it as you meet people. View everyone as worthy of love and looking really good and evoking love in you. See everyone with the eyes of love.

We hope this doesn’t sound too preachy. We just mean it as good advice.

Thanks for sharing your love with us. Now try showing it more subtly, almost secretly. It will have more power.

Note: I came upon a picnic table in the park with some graffiti on it, which inspired me to post this to our neighborhood email group. It’s an application of pantheistic panpsychism. As I write this, two years later, the graffiti is still there.

Mar 20 24

The Existentialist and the Mystic

by Bill Meacham

Jean-Paul Sartre, wrong and incoherent as he often is about human reality,(1) occasionally provides incisive insights about it. One of them shows certain parallels with the Sufi mystic Hazrat Inayat Khan.

Jean-Paul Sartre looking serious

Sartre’s basic notion is that each human being is always able to make free choices. We are not determined by our past. We can always choose what to do, both in individual situations and in comporting ourselves in general. Our free choices determine what we make of ourselves. Sartre famously asserts that “existence precedes essence.”(2) Medieval scholastic philosophers defined “essence” as what something is and “existence” as whether something is.(3) The essence of a unicorn is a horse-like animal with a pointy horn coming out of its forehead. Whether any such animal actually exists is another question. For Sartre, the essence of an individual human being is not preordained or defined in advance. Instead, what each of us is becomes known only after we exist for a while and make choices that define us. We each make something of ourself through our choices of what to do and how to relate to others and the world. Free choice is central to Sartre’s understanding of human reality.

The principle way our choices define us is through our projects. A project for Sartre is uncontroversial; it is simply taking action to achieve an end or to accomplish something. We envision a state of affairs that does not currently exist (Sartre calls this a type of nothingness) and do something to bring it about. A project can be as simple as getting a drink of water or as complex as writing a several-hundred-page tome on phenomenological ontology. It can be accomplished very quickly or take years and years. Through our projects we define ourselves, and the way to understand others is by discerning what their projects are.

But we are more than just a collection of projects. We are each in some way a unified being, not just a bundle of impulses or predilections or undertakings. Sartre gives the example of his friend Pierre, who enjoys boating.(4) What explains why Pierre likes boating? Not just that he likes sports in general and not just because he likes being outdoors and so on. You can think of these as types of projects, but they have “a secondary and derivative quality.”(5) What Sartre is after is a something more foundational.

Unwilling to explain human reality as a causal result of external forces such as, for instance, childhood trauma or social influences or economic status and the like, Sartre wants to explain a person in terms of their freely chosen projects. What gives unity to us over time is our fundamental choice of how to approach the world in which we find ourself. He calls this choice our “fundamental project” or “original project” or sometimes “essential” or “initial” project.

He speaks of

… the fundamental project that I am ….(6)

and says that

In rejecting with equal force both the theory of compliant clay and the theory of the bundle of tendencies, we will encounter the person in his constitutive initial project.(7)

So this project constitutes who we are. Referring to things that have already happened, he says that

… the set of these layers of being-past is organized by the unity of [one’s] project.(8)

The original or essential project is the basis for our unity over time. And it seems to have some defining power over us:

Changes [in my surroundings] cannot bring me to abandon my original project.(9)

… to the extent that our past appears within the framework of our essential project, we are constrained to act in these ways.”(10)

But what is this essential project? To ascertain it, he says, we need a special method:

By means of a comparison of a subject’s various empirical tendencies … we may attempt to discover and isolate the fundamental project that they have in common …. In these investigations we will … stop only when we encounter something whose irreducibility is evident ….(11)

“… it is a matter of finding, beneath some partial and incomplete aspects of the subject, … the totality of his impulse toward being, his original relation to himself, to the world and to the other, within the unity of … a fundamental project.”(12)

This sounds like an observational method; each person might have a different fundamental project, and to find out what it is we must examine their individual projects to find out what is common to all of them. But in fact, we don’t have to do that, because Sartre claims to know what everyone’s original project is. It is our impulse to survive, to continue to exist:

a [person]’s original project can aim only at its being … the project of being, or desire to be, or tendency toward being …. Man is fundamentally the desire to be ….(13)

The original project that is expressed in each of our empirically observable tendencies is therefore the project of being, or alternatively, each empirical tendency relates to the original project of being as its expression and symbolic fulfillment….(14)

On the face of it, this sounds plausible but vacuous. After all, the goal of every living organism is first to survive, then to thrive and reproduce.(15) Many people have noted the same thing. One of Sigmund Freud’s two basic drives is Eros, which is not just a sexual drive but “interest in one’s own survival.”(16) The master of speculative metaphysics Alfred North Whitehead says “the art of life is first to be alive ….”(17) The desire to be is obviously not unique to human beings. The ancient oracle exhorted “know thyself,”(18) but just knowing that you, like every other living being, want to stay alive is not particularly helpful. We need something more.

Sartre gives us a clue to what that could be, our initial project (or projects). Although at one point he seems to equate a fundamental project with an initial project, at another point he speaks as if an initial project is something different:

… for example, if my initial project aims to choose myself as inferior in the midst of others (the so-called inferiority complex) ….(19)

This example is clearly different from the fundamental project of being. (It’s also a bit strange. Why would anyone choose to feel inferior? But that’s Sartre for you.) Now that you are here, being in your world and in your situation or perhaps several situations, the question is how best to keep on being. What is critical to understanding any particular person, including yourself, is not just that they strive to stay alive, but how they do so. Everybody does it differently.

There is not first one desire to be, and then a thousand particular feelings; rather the desire to be only exists, and is only manifested, in and through … the thousand empirical and contingent expressions … manifested by … a particular person.(20)

At issue is what we might call your strategies for being in the world or for exercising your freedom. Do you have a sort of general or global approach to life? Is it working for you? Even though you might have chosen it some time ago, do you still want to keep on choosing it? These are crucial issues, which Sartre alludes to but does not treat in any detail.

+++

Hazrat Inayat Khan

The Sufi mystic Hazrat Inayat Khan, in some ways diametrically opposed to Sartre, has an analogous view of human nature. Where Sartre is an atheist, Inayat Khan (“Hazrat” is an honorific meaning, roughly, “honorable”) is fully convinced of the reality of God. Where Sartre thinks that human beings have no defining essence before existing and creating one, Inayat Khan thinks that we are each born with a purpose to be accomplished. But Inayat Khan’s purpose and Sartre’s fundamental project are quite similar. In both cases there is something common to all people and something unique to each individual, and each has a great deal to do with how we comport ourselves in life.

Inayat Khan’s view of reality can be called pantheistic panpsychism, although he himself never used those terms. In this view, everything we can see, touch or feel or be conscious of in any way is an expression or manifestation of one being, which is variously known as God, Allah, Buddha Nature, Brahman, the Dao and many other names. This includes both objective things, those that many people can be conscious of such as trees and rocks and stars and other people, and subjective things, those that only one person can be directly conscious of such as private thoughts, feelings, impulsions to action and the like. That’s the pantheism part; all (pan) is theos, God. Panpsychism is the doctrine that everything has a mental as well as a physical aspect; all contains psyche, mind. Panpsychism holds that everything has an aspect that can be directly discerned only by the individual entity that it is—that’s its inside, the subjective aspect—and an aspect that can be discerned by more than one person—that’s its outside, the objective aspect.

Although we are all manifestations of the One Being, most of us don’t know it. The point of Sufism, along with many other mystical traditions, is to train us to realize, to actually experience, immediately and directly, our unity with the Divine and with all beings. Such experience is said to have a great many benefits: it gives us insight into how the world works; it leads us to feel compassion for all beings; it gives us wisdom to lead our lives well; and it feels really, really good, blissful even.

Inayat Khan says the purpose of our life is to attain just such a realization. Here are some representative passages from his works. (Note that he wrote and spoke before there was any effort to remove gender discrimination from common usage. By “man” he means both men and women as well as those who identify as neither or both.)

Man is here on earth for this one purpose, that he may bring forth that spirit of God in him and thus discover his own perfection.(21)

If man does not realize the kingdom of God within himself …, he does not accomplish the purpose of life.(22)

All these different scriptures and ways of worship and of contemplating God are given for one purpose: the realization of unity.(23)

The more you reach such a realization, the more you enable Divine Wisdom to work through you:

That which is most precious, that which is the purpose of man’s life is to arrive at that state of perfection when he can be the perfect instrument of God.(24)

Man’s greatest privilege is to become a suitable instrument of God, and until he knows this he has not realized his true purpose in life.(25)

These passages parallel Sartre’s insight that the fundamental project is to be, except that Inayat Khan goes farther and gives us a reason to be. And just as Sartre speaks of what we might call subsidiary projects, Inayat Khan recognizes that we have many individual purposes which are underpinned by our ultimate purpose:

In all different purposes which we see working through each individual, there seems to be one purpose which is behind them all, and that is the unfoldment of the soul.(26)

Unlike Sartre, who says little about how to accomplish our project of being, Inayat Khan gives us some practical advice about how to achieve our ultimate purpose.

The ultimate freedom of the soul is gained by concentration, by meditation, by contemplation, and realization.(27)

What you are seeking for is within yourself. Instead of looking outside, you must look within. The way to proceed to accomplish this is for some moments to suspend all your senses such as sight, hearing, smell, touch, in order to put a screen before the outside life. And by concentration and by developing that meditative quality you will sooner or later get in touch with the inner Self. … And this gives joy, creates peace, and produces in you a self-sufficient spirit, a spirit of independence, of true liberty. The moment you get in touch with your Self you are in communion with God.(28)

This passage identifies the inner Self with the Self of God, but explaining that level of theological detail would take us too far afield. See my book How To Be An Excellent Human for specifics.(29) The point is that there are methods of attaining the desired goal. In his public talks and writings Inayat Khan gave only a broad overview of them. The esoteric school that he founded offers a plethora of practices that are tailored for each seeker by an experienced guide.

+++

Both Sartre, the Western atheist existentialist, and Inayat Khan, the Eastern spiritual mystic, recognize that there is something deeper to human existence than the many details of our busy lives. In both cases it behooves us to find out what it is and deliberately choose to embrace it. That’s not something you do from the comfort of a philosophical arm chair. It’s something to be pursued with passion. Achieving it can result in a great sense of satisfaction and fulfillment. So if you haven’t done so already, get started.


Notes

(1) See my essays “The Anguish of Freedom“, “Sartre, Positionally” and “Sartre’s Bad Logic“.

(2) Sartre, “Existentialism Is a Humanism.”

(3) Catalano, A Commentary, p. 9.

(4) Sartre, Being and Nothingness tr. Richmond, pp. 729-731.

(5) Idem, p. 729.

(6) Idem, p. 649.

(7) Idem, p. 731.

(8) Idem, p. 651.

(9) Idem, p. 658.

(10) Idem, p. 655.

(11) Idem, p. 732.

(12) Idem, p. 731.

(13) Idem, p. 733.

(14) Idem, pp. 733-734.

(15) Goodenough, “Life and Purpose.”

(16) Gerber, “Eros and Thanatos.”

(17) Whitehead, The Function of Reason, p.8.

(18) Wikipedia, “Know Thyself.”

(19) Sartre, Being and Nothingness tr. Richmond, p. 616.

(20) Idem, p. 734.

(21) Inayat Khan, The Sufi Message Vol. VI, The Alchemy of Happiness, p. 214, http://wahiduddin.net/mv2/VI/VI_30.htm.

(22) Idem, p. 200, http://wahiduddin.net/mv2/VI/VI_28.htm.

(23) Inayat Khan, The Sufi Message Vol. IX, The Unity of Religious Ideals, p. 12, http://wahiduddin.net/mv2/IX/IX_1.htm.

(24) Inayat Khan, The Sufi Message Vol. XIV, The Smiling Forehead, https://wahiduddin.net/mv2/XIV/XIV_2_21.htm.

(25) Inayat Khan, The Sufi Message Vol. VIII, Sufi Teachings, p. 116, https://wahiduddin.net/mv2/VIIIa/VIIIa_2_5.htm.

(26) Inayat Khan, The Sufi Message Vol. XIV, The Smiling Forehead, http://wahiduddin.net/mv2/XIV/XIV_2_20.htm.

(27) Inayat Khan, The Sufi Message Vol. VII, In an Eastern Rose Garden, p. 197, http://wahiduddin.net/mv2/VII/VII_28.htm.

(28) Inayat Khan, The Sufi Message Vol. VI, The Alchemy of Happiness, pp. 42-43, http://wahiduddin.net/mv2/VI/VI_4.htm.

(29) Meacham, How To Be An Excellent Human, pp. 63-66.

References

Catalano, Joseph S. A Commentary on Jean-Paul Sartre’s Being and Nothingness. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1971.

Gerber, Timofei. “Eros and Thanatos: Freud’s two fundamental drives.” Epoché Philosophy Monthly, No. 20, February 2019. Online publication https://epochemagazine.org/20/eros-and-thanatos-freuds-two-fundamental-drives/ as of 17 March 2024.

Goodenough, Ursula (Khan Academy). “Life and Purpose: A Biologist Reflects on the Qualities that Define Life.” Online publication https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/big-history-project/life/life-and-big-history/a/life-and-purpose as of 17 March 2024.

Khan, Inayat. The Sufi Message Vol. VI, The Alchemy of Happiness. London: Barrie and Jenkins, 1973. Online publication http://wahiduddin.net/mv2/VI/VI_30.htm, http://wahiduddin.net/mv2/VI/VI_28.htm, http://wahiduddin.net/mv2/VI/VI_4.htm as of 18 March 2024.

Khan, Inayat. The Sufi Message Vol. VII, In an Eastern Rose Garden. London: Barrie and Jenkins, 1973. Online publication http://wahiduddin.net/mv2/VII/VII_28.htm as of 18 March 2024.

Khan, Inayat. The Sufi Message Vol. VIII, Sufi Teachings. London: Barrie and Jenkins, 1963. Online publication https://wahiduddin.net/mv2/VIIIa/VIIIa_2_5.htm as of 18 March 2024.

Khan, Inayat. The Sufi Message Vol. IX, The Unity of Religious Ideals. London: Barrie and Jenkins, 1963. Online publication http://wahiduddin.net/mv2/IX/IX_1.htm as of 18 March 2024.

Khan, Inayat. The Sufi Message Vol. XIV, The Smiling Forehead. Online publication https://wahiduddin.net/mv2/XIV/XIV_2_21.htm, http://wahiduddin.net/mv2/XIV/XIV_2_20.htm as of 18 March 2024.

Meacham, Bill. How To Be An Excellent Human: Mysticism, Evolutionary Psychology and the Good Life. Austin, Texas: Earth Harmony, 2013. Available at https://www.bmeacham.com/ExcellentHumanDownload.htm.

Sartre, Jean-Paul. Being and Nothingness. Tr. Sarah Richmond. New York: Washington Square Press/Atria, 2018.

Sartre, Jean-Paul. “Existentialism Is a Humanism.” In Existentialism from Dostoyevsky to Sartre, ed. Walter Kaufman. London: Meridian Publishing Company, 1989.
Online publication https://www.marxists.org/reference/archive/sartre/works/exist/sartre.htm as of 20 October 2018.

Whitehead, Alfred North. The Function of Reason. Boston: Beacon Press, 1958 (Princeton University Press, 1929).

Wikipedia. “Know Thyself.” Online publication https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Know_thyself as of 17 March 2024.

Oct 7 23

The Frege-Geach Problem (wonkish)

by Bill Meacham

Back in 1965 British analytic philosopher Peter Geach published an insightful and engaging paper titled “Assertion,” which has been the source of a certain amount of controversy ever since. Geach, a professor of Logic, maintains that the same proposition has the same meaning whether or not it is asserted as true, a view he attributes to Frege. He goes into quite a lot of detail about the context, sometimes explicit and sometimes implicit, in which certain statements are made and how to represent them in logical form. If you like that sort of thing, as I do, it’s quite entertaining.

The controversy comes from a short section near the end:

The theory that to call a kind of act “bad” is not to describe but to condemn it is open to similar objections. Let us consider this piece of moral reasoning:

If doing a thing is bad, getting your little brother to do it is bad.
Tormenting the cat is bad.
Ergo, getting your little brother to torment the cat is bad.

The whole nerve of the reasoning is that “bad” should mean exactly the same at all four occurrences—should not, for example, shift from an evaluative to a descriptive or conventional or inverted-commas use. But in the major premise the speaker (a father, let us suppose) is certainly not uttering acts of condemnation: one could hardly take him to be condemning just doing a thing.(1)

By “not to describe but to condemn” he refers to the meta-ethical view called “non-cognitivism,” that moral statements do not express propositions and thus cannot be true or false. They don’t express propositions because they don’t refer to objective moral facts; there are no such things say the non-cognitivists. Instead they express the speaker’s attitude and are equivalent to statements that are either merely emotional (“Boo to killing!”) or prescriptive (“Don’t kill!”).(2)

Ever since, Geach’s argument has been known as the “Frege-Geach Problem” even though Frege himself knew nothing of it. In a recent issue of Philosophy Now magazine, Justin Bartlett explores the issue in some detail.(3) I’m pleased that the magazine has published letters in response from both me and my colleague, Mark Gold.(4) Here they are, Mark’s first.

 
Letter from Mark Gold

Justin Bartlett questions non-cognitivism in ethics by referring to the Frege-Geach Problem. (“The Cognitive Gap” Philosophy Now Issue 156, July/July 2023) If “Killing is wrong” amounts to no more than “Boo to killing” then a seemingly valid argument turns out to be nonsense, he says. The valid argument, taken in a cognitivist interpretation, is this:

P1: Killing is wrong.

P2: If killing is wrong, then getting your little brother to kill is wrong.

C: Therefore, getting your little brother to kill is wrong.

Substituting equivalent phrases, he says, we get this:

P1: Boo to killing!

P2: If ‘Boo to killing!’, then getting your little brother to kill is wrong.

C: Therefore, getting your little brother to kill is wrong.

Proposition 2 makes no sense, so therefore non-cognitivism must be false.

But Bartlett doesn’t take the substitution far enough. To be consistent he ought to equate “Getting your little brother to kill is wrong” with “Boo to getting your little brother to kill.” Doing so yields this argument:

P1: Boo to killing!

P2: If ‘Boo to killing!’, then ‘Boo to getting your little brother to kill.’

C: Therefore, ‘Boo to getting your little brother to kill.’

On the face of it, this seems valid. One might object that “Boo to killing” is not a truth-apt proposition and hence cannot play a role in logical inference. Very well, we can replace “Boo to killing” with the proposition “I strongly disapprove of killing” and “Getting your little brother to kill is wrong” with “I strongly disapprove of getting my little brother to kill.” The argument then becomes this:

P1: I strongly disapprove of killing.

P2: If I strongly disapprove of killing, then I strongly disapprove of getting my little brother to kill.

C: Therefore, I strongly disapprove of getting my little brother to kill.

The latter is a valid argument and poses no problem for the non-cognitivist.

Regards,

Mark Gold

 
Letter from Bill Meacham

The epistemological argument between moral cognitivism and non-cognitivism (“The Cognitive Gap,” Philosophy Now issue 156) parallels the ontological argument between moral realism and anti-realism. The realists say that moral properties such as rightness and wrongness are mind-independent parts of objective reality. Hence, propositions about them can be true or false because they refer to things that actually exist. Anti-realists say that moral properties have no objective reality; they are mere human constructs or at best mistaken ideas and have no objective referent. Hence propositions about them can be neither true nor false, so they must be mere expressions of our emotions or at best admonitions to behave in a certain way.

The arguments for moral anti-realism are strong. One of them, the Argument from Queerness cited by the late J.L. Mackie (Ethics: Inventing Right and Wrong, 1997) asserts that if there were objective values they would be entities of a very strange sort, utterly different from anything else in the universe. Moral entities such as the wrongness of murder or the obligation to tell the truth are neither physical nor mathematical/logical, but have characteristics of both. Like mathematical/logical entities but unlike physical objects, they lack perspective, mass, extension in space, velocity, acceleration and color. Like both mathematical and physical objects, they persist in time. If someone thinks murder is wrong today, that person will most likely think it wrong tomorrow. Like physical objects but unlike mathematical/logical entities, moral entities seem to change over time. Slavery was common and accepted in ancient Greece and Rome; today we find it morally wrong. Unlike both, moral properties intrinsically motivate us to act. We may wish to pick a nice, ripe apple, but it is our hunger that motivates us, not anything intrinsic to the apple.

So moral entities do indeed appear to be queer in Mackie’s sense. They are not real in the familiar way that physical objects are, nor in the way that mathematical/logical entities seem to be. They have some characteristics of both and one characteristic, that they inherently motivate us, shared by neither. If moral realism means to be real in the manner of physical objects or of mathematical/logical entities, then moral realism is false and moral anti-realism, true.

But that’s not the whole story. There is another way to be real.

Following John Searle (The Construction of Social Reality, 1995) I assert that moral properties and entities are socially constructed institutional facts. There are quite a number of such facts. Searle mentions money, property, marriages, governments, tools, restaurants, schools and many others. They exist only because we believe them to exist. Take money for instance. Bits of paper with certain markings on them are money—that is, media of exchange and stores of value—not because of their physical characteristics but only because human beings use them as money and have rules that govern their use as money.

Ontologically, the manner of being of moral entities is to be socially constructed. They exist independently of any particular person, but they are not independent of conscious agents altogether as physical and (arguably) mathematical/logical entities are. Moral entities are socially constructed within a community of practice, a social group, a culture or a society. Within such a community or society, everybody agrees (more or less) on what they are, everybody treats them the same way and everybody acts as if they are real. Just as there are consequences for the way we deal with physical objects, there are real consequences for the way we abide by moral rules or not, namely the reactions of others in the community. So, for members of such a community they are real. The ontological status of morality is that it is a socially constructed reality.

Recognition of this fact cuts through the debate about moral realism. As with many conceptual issues, this one depends on definitions of terms. If “real” means to be real as physical entities are, then moral anti-realism and non-cognitivism are true. If “real” means to be real in any fashion at all, then they are false and their opposites, realism and cognitivism, are true.

The issue has practical as well as theoretical implications, which space does not permit me to pursue here. Please see my “Reassessing Morality” at https://bmeacham.com/whatswhat/ReassessingMorality_v3.html.

Regards,

Bill Meacham


Notes
(1) Geach, pp. 463-464.

(2) Wikipedia, “Non-cognitivism.”

(3) Bartlett, “The Cognitive Gap.”

(4) Philosophy Now, Issue 157, August/September 2023, p. 47. Online publication https://philosophynow.org/issues/157/Letters as of 7 October 2023.

 
References

Bartlett, Justin. “The Cognitive Gap.” Philosophy Now Issue 156. Online publication
https://philosophynow.org/issues/156/The_Cognitive_Gap as of 1 September 2023.

Geach, P.T. “Assertion.” The Philosophical Review, Oct., 1965, Vol. 74, No. 4 (Oct., 1965), pp. 449-465. Online publication https://philpapers.org/archive/GEAA-2.pdf as of 6 October 2023.

Mackie, J.L. Ethics: Inventing Right and Wrong. London and New York: Penguin Books, 1977.

Searle, John R. The Construction of Social Reality. New York: The Free Press, 1995.

Wikipedia. “Non-cognitivism.” Online publication https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-cognitivism as of 7 October 2023.