Correction: I’ve been informed that substantial change has a precise definition—it is not an ambiguous term. It means the generation or destruction of a substance.
Feser has 5 supposed proofs of the existence of god. They do not succeed, for reasons I will spell out here.
Feser begins his first proof with the following.
Change occurs. Examples are all around us. The coffee in your cup grows cooler. A leaf on the tree outside your window fells to the ground. A puddle grows larger as the rain continues. You swat a fly and it dies. These examples illustrate four kinds of change: qualitative change (the coffee cools down); change with respect to location (the leaf falls from the tree); quantitative change (the puddle increases in size); and substantial change (a living thing gives way to dead matter). That changes of these sorts occur is evident from our sensory experience of the world outside our minds.
These are not well defined. Is a substantial change any change that is substantial, or only when a living thing becomes dead. What about when a non-living thing becomes living. What about when people change their minds? What about when things change color? None of these are clear—as is true of many things said by Feser.
What change involves, then, is for Aristotle the actualization of a potential. The coffee has the potential to become cold, and after sitting out for a while that potential is made actual. This is not a case of something coming from nothing— which, Aristotle agrees, is impossible— because, again, a potential is not nothing
This then begs the question against something being uncaused. But we can go with this definition—for something to change it goes from what it is at one point to what it could become and it becomes that thing.
Now, I lean towards mereological nihilism, so I don’t think it’s coherently called the same thing. But this definition is reasonable enough.
Change requires a changer. We find examples all around us in everyday experience. The cool air in the room brings the temperature of the coffee down. A flick of your wrist brings the flyswatter down on the fly. But the thesis that change requires a changer is not merely a generalization from instances like these. It follows from what change is: the actualization of a potential. We saw that while the coffee is still hot, the coldness of the coffee is not exactly nothing, since it is there potentially in the coffee in a way other qualities are not. But it is still there merely potentially and not actually, otherwise the coffee would be cold already, even while it is hot, which of course it isn’t. Now potential coldness can hardly do anything, precisely because it is merely potential. Only what is actual can do anything. In particular, the potential coldness of the coffee cannot make itself actual. Only something already actual can do that— the coolness in the surrounding air, or perhaps some ice cubes you might drop into the coffee. In general, any mere potential can only be actualized by something that is already actual. In that sense, any change requires a changer of some sort or other
Asking whether the coldness of the coffee when the coffee is hot is nothing just seems to be confused. It’s nothing physical that currently exists, but it does exist as a potential thing. But this is agreeable enough. However, note at this point that Feser hasn’t shown that things can’t change themselves.
What makes these series hierarchical in the relevant sense, though, is not that they are simultaneous, but that there is a certain sort of dependence of the later members on the earlier ones. The cup has no capacity on its own to be three feet from the ground; it will be there only if something else, such as the desk, holds it up. But the desk in turn has no power on its own to hold the cup there.
Well then if Feser thinks that the chain of causes is hierarchical that would be begging the question against the view that the physical world has intrinsic features that can change itself.
Now, it is because o f this difference that a hierarchical series of causes has to have a first member while a linear series does not. But it is crucial to understand what “ first” means in this context. As has already been indicated, the idea o f a hierarchical series is best introduced by thinking in terms o f a sequence whose members exist all together at a single moment of time, such as the cup which is held up by the desk which is held up by the floor. So, when it is said that such a series must have a first member, the claim is not that the series has to be traced back to some beginning point in the past (at the Big Bang, say). The idea is rather this. Since the desk, the floor, and the foundation have no power o f their own to hold the cup aloft, the series could not exist in the first place unless there were something that did have the power to hold up these intermediaries, and the cup through them, without having to be held up itself. You might say that if the desk, floor, walls, and so forth are acting like instruments o f a sort, then there must, as it were, be something whose instruments they are. Or to put the point another way, if they have only derivative power to hold things up, then there must be something from which they derive it, something which does not have to derive it from anything else in turn but just has it “ built in” . The sort o f “ first” cause that a hierarchical series must have, then, is a cause that has the power to produce its effects in a nonderivative and noninstrumental way. In the case of the cup, where the desk holds it up only because it derives its power to do so from the floor, and the floor from the foundation, none of these things could hold up anything at all unless there were something which holds them up without having to be held up itself.
Feser here begs the question against an infinite regress of past causes. It could be that every change depends on a previous change which depends on a previous change, going infinitely far back.
To take an example sometimes used to illustrate the point, a paintbrush has no power to move itself, and it would remain powerless to move itself even if its handle were infinitely long. Hence, even if there could be an infinitely long brush handle, if it is actually going to move, there will still have to be something outside it which does have the “ built-in” power to cause it to move.
This is true, but if fails to prove the general point that an infinitely long causal change is impossible.
I mean, what makes it true that the coffee exists here and now, and at any particular moment that it exists? What keeps it in existence?
Existential inertia describes it being kept in existence and its causes make it exist here and now.
Now since what is being explained in this case is the actualization of a thing’s potential for existence, the sort of “ first” cause we are talking about is one which can actualize the potential for other things to exist without having to have its own existence actualized by anything.
Even if we grant this, there are lots of things that satisfy this. There is also no reason to suppose it can only be one thing, rather than multiple.
What this entails is that this cause doesn’t have any potential for existence that needs to be actualized in the first place. It just is actual, always and already actual, as it were.
This is false. All that is entailed by this, assuming we accept this very speculative line of reasoning, is that it didn’t change prior to causing other things. Nothing, however, makes it so that it couldn’t change after it caused other things.
Additionally, the word potential is ambiguous. Are we referring to logical, metaphysical, or physical possibility. Suppose the first thing was a simple law of physics that resulted in the existence of particles. This lead to a chain of causes that brought about the existence of an omnipotent being. That omnipotent being changed the original law. Nothing about this is impossible.
So all Feser has established is that if there is a first cause that causes things to change, it can’t have been changed prior to causing other things. This is obvious, it’s definitionally true given that it is the first thing that causes other things to change.
Indeed, you might say that it doesn’t merely have actuality, the way the things it actualizes do, but that it just is pure actuality itself. It doesn’t merely happen not to have a cause of its own, but could not in principle have had or needed one. For being devoid of potentiality, there is nothing in it that could have needed any actualizing, the way other things do. It is in this sense that it is an uncaused cause, or to use Aristotle’s famous expression, an Unmoved Mover. More precisely, we might call it an unactualized actualizer.
Nonsense. For one, it’s not clear what exactly pure actuality means. What does it mean for something to be pure changeness?
Additionally, Feser makes the mistake I addressed previously. Just because something didn’t change prior to changing other things does not mean that it’s incapable of changing or that it’s pure changeness. If the first thing is some basic law of physics that obeys predictable natural laws, it can be an unactualized actualizer, without being pure actuality in the relevant sense.
Notice that we reached this result by beginning with ordinary individual objects and processes, such as a coffee cup and the cooling down o f the coffee within it. We didn’t start by asking where the universe as a whole came from, and we need not start with any claim about the universe as a whole in order to get to an unactualized actualizer. But what we have said has implications for the universe as a whole. For what is true o f the water in the coffee is true of every other material thing— the leaf that fell from the tree, the fly you swatted, and so on and on. Every material thing is such that it can exist at any moment only if certain potentials are actualized. Hence, it is ultimately such that, like the water in the coffee, it can exist at any moment only insofar as it is caused to exist by an unactualized actualizer.
This is false. Feser gives no reason to think that for something to remain in existence it needs a cause. Why would we think that. If this is entailed by Feser’s definition about change being the actualization of potential, such that for something to remain in existence its potential to exist must be actualized, then I would reject Feser’s definition. Instead, a better definition would just be the counterfactual view of causation, according to which A causes B if A causally preceeds B and B happens if A happens but B doesn’t happen if A doesn’t’ happen.
So, from the fact that change occurs we are led to conclude that there is an unactualized actualizer or Unmoved Mover.
No, all we got was that if there was a first changer then that changer didn’t change prior to causing other things to change.
Informal statement of the argument:
Stage 2 In other words, the undeniable reality of change entails the existence of God. Why call the unactualized actualizer or Unmoved Mover “ God” ? For one thing, this cause is, among other things, the ultimate cause o f the existence of things, in the most intimate sense o f being that which keeps them in existence at any moment at which they exist at all. And whatever else God is supposed to be, he is the ultimate cause of things
But if the cause was a basic law of physics, then it wouldn’t properly be called god. It could also just be some particles with intrinsic potentials, or something weird like vibrating strings. Or maybe it’s some basic metaphysical principle sord’ve like modal realism.
First of all, since the cause of things is pure actuality and therefore devoid o f potentiality, it cannot go from potentiality to actuality and is thus immutable or unchanging.
This only holds prior to changing other things. My parents actualize me, so if they were the first in the causal series, they would have to be unchanged prior to causing me, but that doesn’t mean that after I exist they couldn’t cause things to change.
Since existing within time entails changeability, an immutable cause must also be eternal in the sense of existing outside of time altogether.
Nonsense! Again, it only has to be changeless prior to changing other things. For another, this also would apply to basic laws of physics. Finally, it could exist changelessly within time.
It neither comes to be nor passes away but simply is, timelessly, without beginning or end.
Why think this? Why couldn’t it begin to exist, uncaused, and then cause other things to change, actualizing time.
Since to be material entails being changeable and existing within time, an immutable and eternal cause must be immaterial and thus incorporeal or without any sort of body.
This also applies to laws of physics.
There’s no reason to think this must be true of all matter.
Given the distinction drawn above, the first thing must be changeless prior to creation. However, if it is material, it could be some basic field which interacts in ways, causing time to exist, after which it begins to change. Or it could not begin to change once it causes time.
If the B theory of time is true, then everything exists changelessly as a 4 dimensional block, so in the deeper sense, change is an illusion, related to the object considered as a whole.
Consider now what it is for a thing to be in some respect or other imperfect or flawed. An injured animal or damaged plant is imperfect insofar as it is no longer capable of realizing fully the ends its nature has set for it. For instance, a squirrel which has been hit by a car may be unable to run away from predators as swiftly as it needs to; and a tree whose roots have been damaged may be unstable or unable to take in all the water and nutrients it needs in order to remain healthy. A defect of this sort is (to use some traditional philosophical jargon) a privation, the absence of some feature a thing would naturally require so as to be complete. It involves the failure to realize some potential inherent in a thing. Something is perfect, then, to the extent that it has actualized such potentials and is without privations. But then a purely actual cause o f things, precisely since it is purely actual and thus devoid of unrealized potentiality or privation, possesses maximal perfection.
This is false for lots of reasons.
As I’ve argued previously, utilitarianism is true. However, if utilitarianism is true then to say something is imperfect is to say it causes suffering, not that it isn’t capable of realizing its ends.
Something can be good at fulfilling its purpose but not morally good. Consider the following examples.
A) Imagine a law of physics that inflicted vast amounts of suffering constantly on every sentient being. That law would be bad even though it wouldn’t be lacking anything.
B) Consider real world examples of teleological evils.
Perhaps the most obvious example of teleological evil is the evil of predation. Such evil occurs when one or more organisms are “built” to cause suffering to one or more other organisms by virtue of acting in accordance with their design plans and/or natural purposes, such that it’s part of their design plan to cause organisms to suffer in some way. And it is well known that the suffering caused by the teleological evil of predation is immense. Very, very many types of organisms are such that they aren’t able to get enough nourishment unless they cause other organisms to suffer immensely (for example, by ripping them to shreds and eating them alive). Vivid examples of predatory teleological evil include:
the cruel predatory practices of the margay:
Imagine being a pied tamarin monkey living in the Brazilian rainforest and suddenly a baby’s voice cries out in distress; the urge to go out and help would be overwhelming. But in reality it’s a lure set by a margay, a jungle-dwelling wild cat with remarkable mimicry skills.
The North American short-tailed shrew:
The North American short-tailed shrew, Blarina brevicauda, secretes venom from salivary glands in its lower jaw to paralyze prey. But the point of the paralysis is not to kill the prey, but to keep it alive for an extended period of time to allow for prolonged feeding. A tiny shrew can infect a mouse, for example, and then graze on it for days and days until it eventually succumbs to its physical injuries.
The preying mantis:
The mantis is famous because the female often eats the male during intercourse, the latter being easily overpowered by his mate, but hardwired to proceed with the mating process. The sadistic part is that mantises do not bother to kill their prey before eating them: as soon as the insect embraces the hapless lover, it begins to consume it alive.
All of these seem clearly bad, despite fulfilling their natural purposes.
C) Consider a very effective ship used to collect slaves, or a date rape drug. It would be a “good,” slavecatching ship or date rape drug, in the sense of being effective at achieving its purpose, but it would not be morally good. It would be morally horrific. Similarly, lots of torture devices are “good,” torture devices in that they are effective, but not morally good.
Two other objections present themselves.
This seems to obviously equivocate on the word good. When we say that a triangle is perfect, we’re not saying it’s morally perfect, just that it’s perfect in a non-moral sense—one which describes its triangularity. A perfect triangle is no more morally perfect than an irrational number is foolish, unreasonable, and irrational.
If a person is horrifically tortured, that is worse than mere non existence. However, if evil is merely a privation, then nothing can be worse than non-existence, when one is deprived of everything. Similarly, being in a coma is not good, but being tortured is far worse.
Could there be more than one such cause? There could not, not even in principle. For there can be two or more of a kind only if there is something to differentiate them, something that one instance has that the others lack. And there can be no such differentiating feature where something purely actual is concerned. Thus, we typically distinguish the things of our experience by their material or temporal features— by one thing being larger or smaller than another, say, or taller or shorter than another, or existing at a time before or after another. But since what is purely actual is immaterial and eternal, one purely actual thing could not be differentiated from another in terms o f such features.
Why can’t there be two different immaterial and eternal things—even if we grant the previous steps in Feser’s argument. Suppose there was one immaterial and eternal law of physics that imposed the law of gravity and another that imposed some other physical law. Why couldn’t they both exist?
More generally, two or more things of a kind are to be differentiated in terms of some perfection or privation that one has and the other lacks. We might say, for instance, that this tree’s roots are more sturdy than that one’s, or that this squirrel is lacking its tail while the other has its tail. But as we have seen, what is purely actual is completely devoid of any privation and is maximal in perfection.
But two things that are perfect can still be differentiated. The God Feser believes in is different from Allah, even though they’re both said to be perfect. Additionally, if there was a law of physics that caused other things and was timeless and immaterial, by Feser’s logic it would be perfect, yet different laws of physics could still be distinguished.
Hence, there can be no way in principle to differentiate one purely actual cause from another in terms o f their respective perfections or privations. But then such a cause possesses the attribute o f unity— that is to say, there cannot be, even in principle, more than one purely actual cause. Hence, it is the same one unactualized actualizer to which all things owe their existence
No!! It only has to be changeless prior to changing other things, if it’s the first changer. Additionally, perhaps change could emerge out of something more fundamental that is not change. Speculative Aristotelian metaphysics isn’t very successful.
Consider now that to have power is just to be able to make something happen, to actualize some potential. But then, since the cause of the existence o f all things is pure actuality itself rather than merely one actual thing among others, and it is the source of all the actualizing power anything else has, it has all possible power. It is omnipotent.
No—laws of physics can cause things and be uncaused, they would not be omnipotent. The term pure actuality is just an ambiguous motte and bailey term, used to sneak in bizarre nonsense.
Consider further that a thing is good, in a general sense, to the extent that it realizes the potentials inherent in it as the kind o f thing it is, and bad to the extent that it fails to realize them. A good painter, for example, is good to the extent that he has realized his potential for mastery of the various aspects of painting— craftsmanship, composition, and so forth— while a bad painter is bad to the extent that he has failed to acquire the relevant skills. But a purely actual cause o f the world, devoid as it is of potentiality, cannot be said to be bad or deficient in any way, but on the contrary (as we have seen) to be perfect. In that sense such a cause must be fully good.
Let’s imagine a being created a hell world. There might not be anything they couldn’t do. They might even be good at being a creator. However, they wouldn’t be a morally good creator. All this confusion stems from the linguistic fact that we often use good to describe effectiveness—a good pencil describes something that is effective at being a pencil, yet it’s not morally good.
So far, then, we have seen that the purely actual actualizer or Unmoved Mover must be one, immutable, eternal, immaterial, incorporeal, perfect, omnipotent, and fully good cause o f the existence o f things, in the sense o f being that which keeps all things in being from moment to moment. Can we attribute attributes o f a more personal nature to this cause? For instance, can we attribute to it something like intelligence? We can. But to see how, we must first say something about the nature o f intelligence, and also something more about the nature o f cause and effect. Intelligence, as traditionally understood, involves three basic capacities. First, there is the capacity to grasp abstract concepts, such as the concept man, which is what you have when you not only know this or that particular man or this or that particular subset of men, but what it is to be a man in general. To have the concept man is to have a universal idea that applies to all possible men, not only those that do exist or have existed, but also all those that could exist. Second, there is the capacity to put these ideas together into complete thoughts, as when you combine the concept man and the concept mortal in the thought that all men are mortal. Third, there is the capacity to infer one thought from others, as when you reason from the premises that all men are mortal and Socrates is a man to the conclusion that Socrates is mortal. Obviously the capacity to grasp abstract or universal concepts is the most fundamental of these three. You couldn’t form complete thoughts or reason from one thought to another if you didn’t have the concepts that are the constituents of the thoughts. Now to have such a concept is to have a kind of form or pattern in the mind, and the same form or pattern that exists in the things you might think about. There is a form or pattern that all men have that makes them all the same thing— namely, men; there is a form or pattern that all triangles have that makes them all the same thing— namely, triangles; and so forth. N ow when these forms or patterns come to exist in material things, the results are the various individual objects— individual men, individual triangles, and so forth— that we find in the world around us. When we think about men or triangles in general, though, we abstract away from all the different particular men and triangles, and focus on what is common or universal to them. And that is really the essence o f strictly intellectual activity— the capacity to have the universal or abstract form or pattern o f a thing without being that kind o f thing. A material object that has the form or pattern of a triangle just is a triangle. When you contemplate what it is to be a triangle, you have that form or pattern o f being a triangle as well, but without being a triangle.
The first category would say nominalists aren’t intelligent—because they do not grasp universals. It’s also unclear why this is a prerequisite for intelligence. Feser just blurts out bizarre definitions and conclusions as if they’re obvious. The other things may go along with intelligence, but they’re not sufficient for intelligence and are quite ill-defined.
We’ll come back to the notion o f intelligence in a moment. Let’s now say a little more about cause and effect. We’ve noted that when something is either changed or caused to exist, a potential is actualized, and that something already actual must be what actualizes it. This is sometimes called the principle of causality. A further point to make about cause and effect is that whatever is in some effect must in some way or other be in the cause, even if not always in the same way. For a cause cannot give what it does not have to give. This is sometimes called the principle of proportionate causality.
This claim is ill-defined and bizarre. Suppose someone tells me that Fermat’s last theorem has been proved. They are the cause of that knowledge. However, what does it even mean to say that they are in some way in my knowledge of Fermat’s last theorem. It’s not clear that the notion of being in an effect is even coherent.
Suppose, for example, that I give you $20. The effect in this case is your having the $20, and I am the cause of this effect. But the only way I can cause that effect is if I have the $20 to give you in the first place. N ow there are several ways in which I might have it. I might have a $20 bill in my wallet, or two $10 bills, or four $5 bills. Or I may have no money in my wallet, but do have $20 in my bank account and write you a check. Or I may not have even that, but I am able to borrow the $20 from someone else, or work for it, so that I can go on to give it to you. Or perhaps I have a friend who has a key to the U.S. Treasury printing press and I get him to run off an official $20 bill for me to give to you. Or to take an even more farfetched scenario, suppose that in order to guarantee that you get that $20 I somehow convince Congress to pass a law which permits me personally to manufacture my own $20 bills. These are all various ways in which I might in theory give you $20. But if none of these ways are available to me, then I can’t do it. Again, these are different ways in which the cause may have what is in the effect. When I myself have a $20 bill ready to hand and I cause you to have it, what is in the effect was in the cause formally, to use some traditional jargon. That is to say, I myself was an instance of the form or pattern of having a $20 bill, and I caused you to become another instance of that form or pattern. When I don’t have the $20 bill ready to hand but I do have at least $20 credit in my bank account, you might say that what was in the effect was in that case in the cause virtually. For though I didn’t actually have the $20 on hand, I did have the power to get hold o f it. And when I get Congress to grant me the power to manufacture $20 bills, you might say (once again to use some traditional jargon) that I had the $20 eminently. Because in that case, I not only have the power to acquire already existing $20 bills, but the more “eminent” power of causing them to exist in the first place. When it is said, then, that what is in an effect must in some way be in its cause, what is meant is that it must be in the cause at least “virtually” or “ eminently” even if not “ formally”
This is obvious enough. For something to cause something, it can only do so if there’s a way for it to cause that thing. But how does this prove that the effect must be in the cause. What does it even mean to say that you were the form of having a twenty dollar bill? Feser is trading in ill-defined incoherent concepts.
Now, consider once again the purely actual actualizer o f the existence of things. We have seen that the existence of anything that might exist is going to trace to this one cause. It is the cause of every possible thing that might exist. Now to cause a thing to exist is precisely to cause something of a particular sort— a stone rather than a tree, say, or a tree rather than a cat. That is to say, to cause something to exist is just to cause something having a certain form or fitting a certain pattern. But as we have just said, the purely actual cause of things is the cause of every possible thing— every possible cat, every possible tree, every possible stone. It is for that reason the cause of every possible form or pattern a thing might have. We have also noted that whatever is in an effect must in some way or other be in its cause. Put these points together and what follows is that the forms or patterns of things must exist in the purely actual cause o f things; and they must exist in it in a completely universal or abstract way, because this cause is the cause of every possible thing fitting a certain form or pattern. But to have forms or patterns in this universal or abstract way is just to have that capacity which is fundamental to intelligence. Add to this consideration the fact that this cause o f things is not just the cause of things themselves, but of their being related in any way they might be related. That is to say, it is not only the cause o f men but o f the fact that all men are mortal; not just the cause of this cat, but of this cat’s being on this mat; and so forth. So, there must be some sense in which these effects too exist in their purely actual cause, and it must be in a way that has to do with the combination of the forms or patterns that exist in that cause. That is to say, the effects must exist in the cause in something like the way thoughts exist in us.
The principle of proportional causation has, up until this point, only means that for something to cause something else, it has to have a specific way of doing so. How does anything Feser says follow from that? If I cause a murder to happen by having a child who commits a murder, in what sense is the murder inside of me?
So, what exists in the things that the purely actual cause is the cause ofpreexists in that cause in something like the way the things we make preexist as ideas or plans in our minds before we make them. These things thereby exist in that purely actual cause eminently and virtually even if not formally. For the cause of things is not itself a cat or a tree (and cannot be, given that it is immaterial), but it can cause a cat or a tree, or anything else that might exist. But it is not merely intelligence that we can therefore attribute to the cause o f things. Consider that as the intelligent cause of everything that exists or could exist, there is nothing that exists or could exist that is not in the range o f this cause’s thoughts. It is in that sense all-knowing or omniscient.
Even if we grant this—which we obviously shouldn’t—there are lots of things this doesn’t prove.
Why think that it’s consciousness is causally efficacious. It could be conscious and all knowing without having its consciousness be tied to its power.
This could also prove modal realism. The basic modally realist metaphysical law would seem to also contain in it everything.
If this is true then child torture is part of god. This seems hard to stomach if it ends up being coherent—which I suspect it’s not.
Let’s begin with a response to some further common objections, which are bound to seem to some readers obvious and even fatal, but which in fact rest on egregious misunderstandings o f the argument and have no force at all. For example, some readers are bound to think that I have been arguing that if we trace the series of causes of things back in time, we’ll get to a beginning o f the universe, and that God was the cause o f that beginning. I tried to make it clear that that is not what I am saying, but people are so used to thinking o f an argument for God’s existence in those terms that they will read this idea even into an argument that explicitly denies it. And then they are bound to go on to ask how we can be so sure that the universe really did have a beginning. But what I said, remember, is that even if a given series o f changes has no beginning in time, even if the universe or series o f universes extends forever into the past, that would be irrelevant to the argument. For the argument is rather that for things to exist here and now, and at any moment at which they exist, they must be here and now sustained in existence by God.
But why think that there can’t be an infinite regress of causes, beyond paintbrush analogies.
Hume and Kant on causation Still, the critic may insist, following the empiricist philosopher David Hume, that in theory even coffee cups, stones, and the like might exist without a cause. I have said that any potentiality that is actualized must be actualized by something already actual. But didn’t Hume show that it is at least conceivable that something could pop into existence uncaused? And in that case couldn’t something go from potential to actual without being caused to do so by something already actual? But in fact Hume showed no such thing. What Hume had in mind was the sort o f case where we imagine an empty space in which something suddenly appears— a stone, or a coffee cup, or whatever. O f course, that is imaginable. But that is hardly the same thing as conceiving o f the stone or coffee cup coming into being without a cause. At the very most it is conceiving o f it without at the same time conceiving of its cause, and that is completely unremarkable. We can conceive o f something being a trilateral— a closed plane figure with three straight sides— without at the same time thinking o f it as a triangle. But it doesn’t follow that any trilateral could ever exist in reality without being at the same time a triangle. We can conceive of some man without conceiving of how tall he is, but it doesn’t follow that any man could exist without some specific height. In general, to conceive of A without at the same time conceiving o f B is not the same thing as conceiving o f A existing without B. But then, even if I can conceive of a stone or a coffee cup suddenly appearing without at the same time conceiving of its cause, it doesn’t follow that I have conceived o f it as having no cause, and it doesn’t follow that it could exist in reality without a cause. For another thing, and as the philosopher Elizabeth Anscombe pointed out, for Hume to make his case he has to tell us why a coffee cup suddenly appearing in a previously empty space counts as an instance of coming into existence in the first place, whether with a cause or otherwise. For why shouldn’t we suppose instead that the cup has merely been transported from somewhere else? So, Hume would need to add something to his scenario in order to distinguish the cup’s coming into existence from its merely being transported. But now Hume has a problem. For the only way to distinguish a cup’s coming into existence from its being transported is by reference to the causes of these different sorts of event. A cup’s coming into existence involves one sort o f cause (molding a bit of porcelain or plastic, say), while a cup’s being transported involves another sort of cause (someone’s picking it up and moving it). Hume’s scenario was supposed to eliminate the notion o f a cause, but to spell it out in the detail he needs ends up bringing back in the notion o f a cause.3
But there’s also nothing inconceivable about something beginning from nothing, fully uncaused. Even if Hume’s coffee cup idea didn’t prove it, that doesn’t mean that it’s impossible.
It is also ironic that an empiricist would question the principle o f causality, given that it is as well supported by experience as any claim could be. For in general, we do in fact find causes when we look for them, and when we don’t find them (e.g., when investigating an unsolved murder) we have reason to think they are nevertheless there and would be found if only we had all the pertinent evidence and the time and resources for a more thorough investigation.
But we’ve only observed causality exist from within spacetime. The empiricist shouldn’t conclude that this holds outside of spacetime.
An alternative criticism might look to Immanuel Kant rather than David Hume. We learn that things have causes from our observation o f the empirical world. The surrounding air cools down the coffee, the air conditioner cools the air, you turn on the air conditioner, and so forth. But even if we acknowledge that the principle of causality applies within the world of our experience, why should we suppose that we can extend it beyond the empirical world, to a purely actual actualizer o f things— to something which, because it is immaterial, outside of time and space, is unobservable?
But this objection is not difficult to answer. It is true that we learn the principle o f causality from our experience o f the world, but it doesn’t follow that we cannot apply it beyond the world o f experience. For the reason we conclude that the things o f our experience require causes is not because we experience them, but rather because they are merely potential until made actual. And the principle that no potential can actualize itself is completely general. Once we learn it we can apply it beyond the things we have actually experienced, and there is no reason to doubt that we can apply it as well beyond what we could experience. (Compare: We learn Euclidean geometry by looking at drawings o f various geometrical figures, usually in black ink. But what we learn applies to geometrical figures o f any color and indeed o f no color at all. To think that the principle o f causality applies only to things we can experience is like thinking that Euclidean geometry applies only to figures we can see.)
There are obviously some things that we can infer would apply outside of the universe, like modal, moral, and mathematical facts. However, claiming that the same is true of causality is begging the question. There are also other things about which we can’t make such an inference. Everything that we observe is in the universe, but that doesn’t mean nothing could ever be outside of the universe.
Feser then responds to a view by Russell that I haven’t thought about too much and don’t really want to address.
Since the equations o f physics are, by themselves, mere equations, mere abstractions, we know that there must be something more to the world than what they describe. There must be something that makes it the case that the world actually operates in accordance with the equations, rather than some other equations or no equations at all. There must be what the later Russell called an “ intrinsic character” to the things related in the ways the equations describe. There must, as he put it, be something “ that changes” and something “ it changes from and to” , something about which, as Russell admitted, “physics is silent.” N ow if what the equations describe really is change, then as I have argued, this change entails the actualization o f a potential. But to actualize a potential just is to be a cause. That means that causality must be among the intrinsic features o f the things physics describes.
There can just be some basic laws that govern this. Or it can be based on the intrinsic features of particles.
It is sometimes suggested that Newton’s law of inertia— according to which a body in motion will remain in motion unless acted upon by outside forces— shows that change could occur without a cause. There’s a lot that could be said in response to this objection, and I’ve addressed it in detail elsewhere.13 But for present purposes the following points will suffice. First of all, what Newton’s law describes are events ordered in time— for example, the motion o f molecules as coffee swirls around in a cup. But as I have emphasized, the argument for the existence of God that we have been examining is ultimately concerned with the question of what actualizes a thing’s potential to exist at any particular moment of time. It is concerned, for example, with what makes it the case at any moment that the components of a water molecule actually constitute a water molecule, specifically, in the first place, rather than some other kind o f thing. Since Newton’s law presupposes the existence of things like water molecules, it can hardly explain their existence.
Newton’s description of laws of physics is obviously not sufficient to settle the metaphysical question of inertia. However, we have no good reason to suppose that things remaining in existence requires a cause. It seems bizarre to think that a table would just disappear absent a cause of its continuing existence.
Furthermore, as several philosophers have argued (and as I will argue in a later chapter), for something to follow any physical law— such as the law o f inertia— is just for it to be the kind of thing that behaves in accordance with that law. That is to say, talk o f a “ law of nature” is really just a kind of shorthand for a description o f the way a thing will tend to operate given its nature— given the form or pattern it possesses, which distinguishes it from other kinds o f thing (to make use o f some terminology introduced earlier). Thus, Newton’s law is simply a shorthand description for the way a thing will behave given the nature or form it possesses. But what makes it the case that there actually are things that have that sort of nature or form rather than another? What makes it true that things are governed by the law of inertia rather than some alternative law? What actualizes that potential, specifically? Newtonian mechanics can hardly answer these sorts of questions. Again, it makes no sense to appeal to Newton’s laws in order to explain why the things presupposed by Newton’s laws exist.
What makes it the case that god is omnipotent? Feser’s answer would be that it’s just a needed feature of god. The same can be said of the law of inertia. Asking why things continue existing seems to be as confused as asking why particular things like Santa Claus don’t exist—non existent things don’t have a non existent making property. There’s just nothing that causes them to exist! Additionally, Feser holds that god continues in existence because of his own intrinsic features, so the same can be said about material things. Or, worst case scenario, we can just posit an extra law of physics that requires this. There’s no reason to think a law of physics needs a cause—especially if it’s timeless and immaterial.
Finally, there is the point made above that physics simply does not give anything like an exhaustive description of nature in the first place, but abstracts from it everything that cannot be “ mathematicized” (to use Martin’s expression). This includes the notions of actuality and potentiality, and thus causation as the Aristotelian understands it. Newton’s laws of motion reflect this tendency, insofar as they provide a mathematical description o f motion suitable for predictive purposes without bothering about the origins o f motion or the intrinsic nature of that which moves.
But why think that there must be a cause of something persisting the way that it was. Much like we don’t need an explanation for why things don’t turn into elephants constantly, we don’t need a cause for why things don’t spontaneously disappear.
It is sometimes claimed that change has been shown to be illusory by Einstein, or at least by the construction Hermann Minkowski famously put on relativity theory. On this four-dimensional block universe model, time is analogous to space, so that just as distant places are as actual as nearby places, so too are past and future moments as actual as the present moment. Hence, there is (so the argument goes) no actualization of potential. Our conscious experience of the world presents it as if it were changing— as if the present moment receded into the past and gave way to the future— but in reality there is no change. Objectively speaking, the past and the future exist in just the same way that the present does. Now, such claims are controversial, even among physicists, but this is a controversy that need not be settled for present purposes.15 For even if we supposed for the sake of argument that change does not occur in the objective physical world, it would not follow that the principle that whatever goes from potential to actual has a cause has no application, for two reasons. First, physics, including relativity theory, rests on the empirical evidence of observation and experiment, which involves scientists having certain experiences. This is in turn a matter o f an event of formulating a prediction being followed by the event o f performing an observation to test the prediction; o f moving from a state o f ignorance to a state of knowledge; and so forth. But all o f this involves change. Hence, if there is no change, then there is no such thing as having the experiences which provide the empirical evidence for any scientific theory in the name of which someone might take the position that there is no such thing as change. Thus, as philosopher of science Richard Healey has pointed out, the view that physics shows that all change is an illusion is incoherent.16 The most that could coherently be claimed is that change exists only in the mind but not in mind-independent reality. What cannot be coherently claimed is that there is no change at all.
This is false. Things don’t change—we just observe different points from the spatiotemporal block along them. Claiming that things change on the B theory of time is like saying that cubes more, merely because we see different points along them.
Second, even if change didn’t exist in the physical world, in the mind, or anywhere else, it still wouldn’t follow that the actualization of potential didn’t exist anywhere. For as I have argued, it is not just a thing’s undergoing change that involves the actualization of potential, but its very existence at any moment that involves the actualization o f potential.
Well, it would if change is actualization of potential.