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John on Parts, Wholes, and Hylomorphism

Investigating Medieval

Managing Editor

John Marenbon

Editorial Board

Margaret Cameron Simo Knuuttila Martin Lenz Christopher J. Martin

VOLUME 7

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John Duns Scotus on Parts, Wholes, and Hylomorphism

By

Thomas M. Ward

LEIDEN | BOSTON

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Ward, Thomas M. John Duns Scotus on parts, wholes, and hylomorphism / by Thomas M. Ward. pages cm. -- (Investigating , ISSN 1879-9787 ; VOLUME 7) Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-90-04-27831-8 (hardback : alk. paper) -- ISBN 978-90-04-27897-4 (e-book) 1. Duns Scotus, John, approximately 1266-1308. 2. Hylomorphism. I. Title.

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2014018273

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For Katie

It all seemed too good to be true. Hither and thither through the meadows he rambled busily, along the hedgerows, across the copses, finding every- where birds building, flowers budding, leaves thrusting—everything happy, and progressive, and occupied. ~Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows …

Contents

Acknowledgements ix Abbreviations x

Introduction 1

1 The Purpose of Prime 6 i Distinguishing Matter from Form 6 ii Motivating Matter: The Argument from Change 8 iii Why Must Matter Persist through Change? 12 iv Matter as Passive Power 18 v Obediential Potency and the Subject of Passive Power 23

2 The of Prime Matter 27 i Matter as Subjective Potency 27 ii A Shifting Opinion about Matter’s Separability from Form 30 iii Particular and Total Separability 34

3 How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part I 41 i Forms as Parts 43 ii Matter and Form as Essential Parts 47 iii Degrees of Unity 48 iv Existence is not Enough 51 v Making a Difference 52

4 How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part II 60 i Producing Substance from Matter and Form 60 ii Causal and Co-Causal Relations 62 iii Innovating ’s Principle about Relational Change 66 iv The Identification of Parthood Relations with Causal Relations 68 v The Causality of Matter and Form 70 vi Dispensing with Total Separability? 72 vii Conclusions: Composing, and Composing 73

5 Scotistic about —Part I 76 i Unitarianism and Pluralism about Substantial Form 78 ii Scotus against Unitarianism 81 iii Scotus against Standard Pluralism 84 iv An Inconsistent Position about the Form of Corporeity? 90

viii

6 Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—Part II 94 i The Special Potency Question 97 ii Essential Orders 98 iii Essentially Ordered Unity 103 iv The Role of in Scotus and Two Unitarians 106

7 Contingent Supposits and Contingent Substances 110 i Three Modes of per se 112 ii Ockham on the Distinction between Substance and Supposit 115 iii What’s Special about Supposits? 118 iv Arbitrary Part-Substances? 121

8 The Mereological Status of the Elements in a Mixture 125 i Mixed Opinions about Mixtures 127 ii The Argument from Quantitative Forms 132 iii The Generation and Corruption Argument 137 iv The Violence Argument 139 v Generation from the Elements 140 vi Mixtures and Organic Parts 142

9 Why the World is not a Substance 145 i Motivating Monism 148 ii The Argument from the Distinguishing of Forms 151 iii The World/Organism Analogy 158 iv Properties of the Whole that are not Properties of the Parts 161

10 Scotistic Hylomorphism and the Problem of Homonymy 165 i Scotistic Hylomorphism Among Other Varieties 165 ii Ackrill’s Problem 169 iii Aquinas’s Response 171 iv The Standard Pluralistic Response 173 v Scotus’s Response 177 vi Scotus, Aquinas, and the Ultimate Subject of Substantial Change 178 vii Faulty or Faulty Chemistry? Scotistic Hylomorphism and the Four Elements 179

Bibliography 183 General Index 189

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank the midwives of this project, Calvin Normore and Marilyn McCord Adams. Normore supervised my dissertation at ucla, on which this book is based; Adams supervised my M.Phil thesis at Oxford and then offered supererogatory support as a member of my dissertation committee. They are primarily responsible for forming me into the kind of philosopher I have become—deficiencies in the product are the fault of the material rather than the efficient causes! Thanks also go to the other members of my dissertation committee, John Carriero, Brian Copenhaver, and Debora Shuger. Richard Cross deserves special mention, both for his personal encouragement of some aspects of the project and for his scholarly work on Scotus, which has been indispensible for developing my own ideas about Scotus, as all readers of this book could easily discover for themselves. I have had helpful feedback from Joshua Blander, Sean Kelsey, Gavin Lawrence, jt Paasch, Robert Pasnau, Martin Tweedale, Scott Williams, and from my colleagues here at lmu, in particular Jim Hanink, Christopher Kaczor, and Eric Perl. John Marenbon invited me to consider revising my doctoral thesis for publication in Brill’s Investigating Medieval Philosophy Series, of which he is the general editor; I thank him for suggesting the idea and for his uplifting feedback. I am grateful to audiences at the Metaphysics: Aristotelian, Scholastic, Analytic conference in Prague, the Ontology of Relations: the Medieval Contribution workshop in Lausanne, the Unum, Verum, Bonum conference in Lisbon, the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul, mn, and in my own department, for feedback on different portions of the book. Thanks also go to Terence Sweeney for help with the index. For dif- ferent I am grateful to The Johns Hopkins University Press for permis- sion to use my “Animals, Animal Parts, and Hylomorphism: John Duns Scotus’s Pluralism about Substantial Form,” Journal of the History of Philosophy 50:4 (2012), pp. 531–558, which is almost totally reprinted here as Chapters 5 and 6. For the privilege of having philosophy as my labor I am grateful to the Mustard Seed Foundation, the ucla Department of Philosophy, the ucla Graduate Division, and the lmu Bellarmine College of Liberal Arts, which have funded the research for this project at different times over the years. I am grateful to the librarians of the Pontifical Gregorian University in Rome for permission to use the Library for last-minute corrections to the proofs. Finally, and closer to home, I want to thank my grandparents and parents for their support, patience and constant encouragement; and Katie, Edith, and Sophia, for love and distraction.

T. M. Ward Los Angeles June, 2013

Abbreviations

Reportatio Duns Scotus, Reportatio Parisiensis QMet Duns Scotus, Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis OTh William Ockham, Opera Theologica OPh William Ockham, Opera Philosophica Vatican Duns Scotus, Opera Omnia, published by Typis Vaticanis Wadding Duns Scotus, Opera Omnia, edited by Luke Wadding Bonaventure n Volume n of Duns Scotus, Opera Philosophica, published by The Franciscan Institute, St. Bonaventure University Barnes n Volume n of Aristotle, Complete Works, edited by Jonathan Barnes Wolter Duns Scotus, De Primo Principio, edited and translated by Allan B. Wolter, O.F.M.

Introduction

Let me introduce you to Mr. Mole, or Mole, for short. He is an animal, an individual member of some species of talpid. He is therefore a material object. He has material parts: paws, heart, liver, eyes, fur, snout, and so on. According to Duns Scotus, if you add all these material parts together you have not tallied the sum of Mole’s parts. In addition to these he has another part, a soul, and this part has a special role to play. It endows all Mole’s material parts with a certain kind of unity—substantial unity—that they would not have were it not for that soul. In short, Mole’s soul makes the difference between there being, on the one hand, some talpid parts and, on the other, the living, breathing Mole. Call all of Mole’s material parts his matter, or , and his soul his form, or morphé. Mole is therefore a hylomorphic composite, a composite of matter and form. Medieval philosophers would have classified hylomorphism as part of a theory of , since physics, according to them, is the discipline which studies things undergoing change and only things undergoing change are hylo­ morphic composites. Nowadays we would classify hylomorphism as a meta­ physical theory. What exactly we would mean by calling it a metaphysical theory is not clear, because we contemporary folks do not have a consensus about what metaphysics is. Part of what we would mean, however, is that hylo­ morphism, if true, is a theory about material objects that could be neither con­ firmed nor denied by any empirical science. We could say that hylomorphism is consistent with, and even presupposed by, all or some of the empirical sci­ ences; but we would not hold our breath for any empirical science to deliver a final verdict on its truth. That comes, if at all, through a different sort of inves­ tigation, one which takes as data the deliverances of commonsense as ­ ably chastened by scientific knowledge but which does not restrict the range of what is knowable to what empirical science can discover and which makes free use of the techniques of a priori investigation: logic, and analysis or distinction-making. Anyone who is sympathetic to the ideas that (a) at least some complex, structured wholes—paradigmatically living things—cannot be reduced to their simpler material parts, and that (b) structures or organizations or pat­ terns are or might be real features of the sensible world but themselves are not or would not be physical objects, should be sympathetic to hylomorphism. Thus, while this is a book about John Duns Scotus’s hylomorphism and will therefore be of interest primarily to scholars of the and in particu­ lar to scholars of medieval philosophy, the topic should have (relatively)

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2014 | doi 10.1163/9789004278974_002

2 Introduction broader appeal. Hylomorphism’s history and Duns Scotus’s place in it should matter to those who are interested in hylomorphism for purely philosophical reasons. During the Middle Ages hylomorphism was debated at a high level of refinement. The Aristotelian consensus among medieval intellectuals from the thirteenth century onward fostered a focused and collaborative “research proj­ ect” on various problems arising from Aristotle’s hylomorphism, and none con­ tributed to the debates with as much sophistication as Duns Scotus. So we should be optimistic that medieval hylomorphisms in general and Scotus’s in particular can provide insights to contemporary debates. I remain optimistic about hylomorphisms, but in this book I do not defend Scotus’s version—or any version—of hylomorphism. I have for the most part shied from endorsing metaphysical theses in this book, Scotistic or otherwise, because on the philosophical topics the book addresses I simply have not set­ tled on a position of my own. It is enough to let Scotus do the talking. Here I am content, primarily, to develop interpretations that make some sense out of dif­ ficult but suggestive texts, and, secondarily, to suggest some ways in which Scotus’s philosophical achievements (and failures) can be useful to us in our own philosophical endeavors. That said, the final chapter is a modest endorse­ ment of one aspect of Scotus’s hylomorphism as compared with other versions of hylomorphism. If hylomorphism is true, then I would think a roughly Scotistic version is true. Some of Scotus’s arguments and assumptions are bound to seem quite strange to readers not already immersed in medieval metaphysics, physics, chemistry, , and . I have tried my best simultaneously to do justice to Scotus, by not bowdlerizing the bits that we now find weird or clearly wrong, and to be considerate to readers, by motivating Scotus’s arguments and assumptions as well as I can. I do not take for granted that all readers will be interested in, e.g., medieval theories of mixture for their own sakes; but since we’ve got to know something about theories of mixture in order to understand Scotus’s version of hylomorphism, I have tried to keep this and similar curiosi­ ties as philosophically focused as possible. Scotus’s version of hylomorphism is hylomorphism from the ground up. By this I mean to emphasize Scotus’s consistent doctrine that parts are prior to their wholes: essential parts—prime matter and substantial form—are prior to and can exist independent of material substances; integral parts like organs are prior to substances like organisms; elements are prior to the substances mixed from them; and things in the world are prior to the world they compose. A ground up approach to parts and wholes theorizing requires some principle of unity for each kind of composite whole, composed of things capable (if only by divine power) of existing independent of the whole of which they are parts.

Introduction 3

Somewhat surprisingly, when Scotus seeks to offer principles that explain why some things do or do not, can or cannot, compose another thing, the meta­ physical apparatus he most often reaches for is not form but essential order. By no means does Scotus give up on form, and he still thinks that form ultimately explains how the parts of a substance compose one substance. But Scotus turns to essential order to explain how matter and form themselves unite to compose substance, how several substances can be together in potency to receive a substantial form, why the elements are not able to exist in a mixture, and in what sense the world itself is a cosmos. Most chapters of the book, therefore, draw on Scotus’s understanding of essential order. The first two chapters consider Scotus’s understanding of prime matter. The first asks what theoretical role or function prime matter performs in Scotus’s natural philosophy. Unsurprisingly, its role is broadly Aristotelian, and when arguing that prime matter is something real and really distinct from form, Scotus explicitly acknowledges the Philosopher’s influence. None of this is worth writing a chapter about. What is, however, is the way in which Scotus subtly distinguishes two theoretical roles for prime matter to play, which many would be tempted to conflate. On the one hand, Scotus argues, matter is a pas­ sive power in virtue of which a substance can undergo change. On the other hand, matter is a subject that persists through change. For Scotus, to show that matter is one is not thereby to show that it is the other. I examine Scotus’s rea­ soning for both claims. The second chapter considers the development of Scotus’s understanding of prime matter’s ontology. It is well known that Scotus holds that prime mat­ ter is, at least by divine power, totally separable from form, such that it could exist without being informed by any form. Less well known, however, is that Scotus did not always think this and at one time denied it. I trace the develop­ ment of Scotus’s mature view, and closely examine a few of Scotus’s arguments for total separability, defending a couple against recent criticism. The third and fourth chapters consider Scotus’s understanding of how mat­ ter and form compose a composite substance. Scotus assumes that there is some difference in things between matter and form’s merely existing and mat­ ter and form’s existing and composing a substance. So Scotus develops an account of what happens when matter and form do compose a substance. He argues that some change must occur for matter and form to compose a sub­ stance, that the only sort of change that fits the bill is the production of a new entity, and goes on to argue that this new entity is and can only be a substance. Scotus therefore holds that the real distinction of a whole (substance) from its (essential) parts is necessary for an adequate account of how matter and form compose.

4 Introduction

The fifth and sixth chapters first appeared together as “Animals, Animal Parts, and Hylomorphism: John Duns Scotus’s Pluralism about Substantial Form,” Journal of the History of Philosophy 50:4 (2012), pp.531–558. They are the first philosophical exploration of a little-known feature of Scotus’s hylomorphism: Scotus held that the extended parts of some material sub­ stance, paradigmatically the organs of organisms, are themselves substances— part-substances, as I will call them—with their own specific substantial forms. Most scholars assume that Scotus thought that the extended parts of a body are unified by a form of corporeity, and that the compound of material parts with the form of corporeity constitutes a subject in potency to some higher- order form, such as a soul. I argue against this opinion, showing that Scotus thinks that the form of corporeity is nothing over and above the forms of the plurality of extended parts. I develop an alternate account according to which a plurality of substances potentially compose a substance when they are essen­ tially ordered to one another in the orders of final- and efficient-causality. Chapter 7 explores some implications of the view of I attribute to Scotus in the fifth and sixth chapters. Scotus distinguishes between substances and sup- posits and says that a supposit is a substance that (a) is not a part of another substance and (b) belongs to a complete determinate natural kind. I argue that Scotus’s doctrine of part-substances, together with some other philosophical and theological commitments, entails that any created supposit is only contin­ gently a supposit since any created supposit could become a part-substance and thereby cease to be a supposit. More radically, Scotus thinks that at least some substances are only contingently substances in the non-trivial sense that they can cease to be substances without ceasing to exist. Chapter 8 considers Scotus’s reasons for denying that the four chemical ele­ ments actually exist in the bodies of which they are the basic ingredients, in light of the fact that he admits in principle that substances can compose sub­ stances. The chemistry of Scotus’s day identified the basic elements of physical reality as four different kinds of material substance: earth, air, fire, and water; medieval thinkers described material substances as mixtures of these ele­ ments. Scotus and most medieval philosophers in the thirteenth century and beyond were agreed that the elements cease to exist when they are mixed. Since Scotus holds in general that substances can be parts of more complex substances, it is initially surprising that he holds with the majority view about the ontological status of the elements in mixtures. I argue that Scotus’s funda­ mental reason for holding the majority view is that elemental bodies cannot compose a unity of order: they are neither efficient- and final-causally related to one another, since elements act for the sake of reaching their proper sublu­ nary region, and they naturally corrupt elemental bodies of other kinds if they

Introduction 5 are able. Any combination of elemental bodies therefore lacks the unity requi­ site for a plurality of substances potentially to compose a complex substance. Whereas the eighth chapter considers Scotus’s reasons for thinking that the composition of substances by substances does not extend all the way down to the four elements, Chapter 9 considers his reasons for denying that such com­ position extends all the way up, to the world as a whole. I argue that, for Scotus, there is no significant metaphysical difference between the sort of substance that naturally composes a substance, such as a heart, and the sort of substance that does not, such as Mole. Or, to be more precise, there is no difference between these sorts of substances that is relevant to questions about composi­ tion. This means that there is no logical or metaphysical impossibility that all the substances in the world should in fact compose a substance, or that several substances which do not ordinarily compose a substance should in fact com­ pose a substance. Moreover, Scotus thinks that every substance in the world is essentially ordered to every other substance. In spite of this, Scotus denies that there is one world-substance. This chapter examines Scotus’s reasons for this denial. The final chapter applies the results of the preceding chapters to show how Scotus would respond to a problem with the application of hylomorphism to living things. First, hylomorphism seems to entail that matter is contingently formed by its form. Second, the principle of homonymy, endorsed by Aristotle and Aquinas, holds that some substance, s, is a member of a kind, K, if and only if it is able to perform the characteristic function or functions of the Ks. By the first thesis, Socrates’s corpse is numerically identical with Socrates’s body, since Aristotle identifies Socrates’s body as the matter of Socrates. By the sec­ ond thesis, Socrates’s corpse is not numerically identical with Socrates’s body, since the corpse cannot perform the characteristic functions of a human body. This contradiction has been called “the fundamental problem about hylomor­ phism.” I argue that Scotus’s pluralism about substantial forms entails rejec­ tion of the homonymy principle, since at least some organic parts, such as hands, eyes, and kidneys, are distinct kinds of substances, which depend on an organism only for their natural operations and not for their existence. Therefore Scotus’s hylomorphism solves the fundamental problem.

Chapter 1 The Purpose of Prime Matter i Distinguishing Matter from Form

Experience acquaints us with bodily things in wide variety: earth, air, fire, and water; rocks, flowers, and trees; worms, birds, and lizards; cats and mice, lions and lambs; sun, moon, and stars; and, of course, human . Two things cry out for explanation: difference and change.1

For hylomorphists, that in reality which corresponds to our experience of the difference of things is form. The form of the lion is different in kind from the form of the lamb, and the presence in matter of lion form is that which explains why this chunk of matter exhibits all of the essential characteristics and char- acteristic activities of a lion, while the presence in matter of lamb form is that which explains why that chunk of matter exhibits all of the essential character- istics and characteristic activities of a lamb. Remove the form, remove that feature that makes this chunk different in kind from that chunk. That in reality which corresponds to our experience of change is, for the hylomorphist, matter. A lion comes into existence and goes out of existence. Under normal conditions it does not simply pop into existence from nothing; it comes into existence from something else, and when it goes out of existence something else comes to be from it. Matter is simply that which is capable of receiving different forms. The matter, at one time under sperm form and egg form, becomes, when follows its course, matter under lion form (or lion embryo form). Most hylomorphists recognize two related senses of matter, however. In the first sense, matter, or proximate matter, is simply whatever fits as an answer to the question, “What is it made of?” The table is made of wood and is under the form of table; the statue is made of bronze and is under the form of statue; the lion is made of organic parts and is under the form of lion. In contemporary terminology, matter is simply that which constitutes a material object, while a form (of some kind, K) is that which structures matter in such a way that what the matter constitutes is a K.

1 Marilyn McCord Adams, Some Later Medieval Theories of the Eucharist: , Giles of Rome, Duns Scotus, and William Ockham (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), p. 4.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2014 | doi 10.1163/9789004278974_003

The Purpose Of Prime Matter 7

In the second sense, matter, or prime matter, is an unobservable theoretical entity that partially constitutes every material object but itself is not consti- tuted by anything. It is the last possible answer to the question, “What is it made of?” The statue is made of bronze; the bronze is made of copper and tin (or arsenic); these are made of some mixture of elements (earth, air, fire, water); the elements are made of prime matter, and there is nothing of which prime matter is made. By its nature it is not composed of form, though it can compose with form every possible kind of material object. The intuitive basis for positing a fundamental level of matter, something that is itself not made of anything but which can become anything through reception of forms, is the same that undergirds cosmological arguments for an ; it is the apparent need to avoid an infinite regress of ingredient entities. The answers to “What is it made of?” questions must stop somewhere, the thinking goes, and medieval hylomorphists all agreed that these questions, for any material sub- stance, all stop at the same answer: prime matter.2 Precisely because any proxi- mate matter is itself a composite of at least one form and (proximate or prime) matter, it is numbered among the things that come into existence from some- thing else and from whose going out of existence something else comes to be. And precisely because prime matter is not so composed, it is not numbered among these; God alone can produce prime matter. Scotus makes free use of both senses of matter, part and parcel as they were of his philosophical milieu. This chapter analyzes Scotus’s argument for the existence of prime matter and its persistence through substantial change. To identify Scotus’s motivation for positing this theoretical entity is a fortiori to identify his motivation for hylomorphism: fundamentally, Scotus thinks, we analyze material substances as composites of form and matter in order to explain how certain kinds of change are possible. After analyzing Scotus’s argument, I move on to consider in some detail Scotus’s account of how matter performs its function in change. This account involves, first, Scotus’s character- ization of matter as a passive power for receiving forms; and second, Scotus’s argument that matter persists through change, and that the persistence of mat- ter through change is somehow necessary for there to be any change at all. It is tempting to think that matter’s being a passive power simply amounts to its ability to persist through change, but I argue that for Scotus it does not amount to this. Instead, Scotus’s argument that matter is a passive power proceeds

2 This answer is consistent with the view that prime matter is itself divisible or even that it has actual parts. The point is that prime matter (if divisible) is not divisible into anything that is not prime matter, and that prime matter (if composed of parts) is not composed of anything that is not itself prime matter.

8 Chapter 1 independent of assumptions about matter’s persistence, and his argument for matter’s persistence through change involves drawing out a necessary conse- quence of matter’s role as a passive power for receiving forms. I also raise and attempt to provide a solution to a problem about the relation between prime and proximate matter. The problem concerns the role of forms in substantial and accidental change. On the one hand, matter is potency and form is act. A form strives to conserve its existence in matter whereas matter is receptive to new forms; change can therefore be characterized as the success of an efficient cause in driving out one form in matter and replacing it with a new. From this perspective, therefore, it is tempting to think that any proxi- mate matter is in potency to form only because it has prime matter as a con- stituent. On the other hand, the forms under which some prime matter currently exists determine to some extent the range of additional or alterna- tive forms to which it is in potency. For example, an embryo is in potency to the soul when its organs are suitably developed and when it is properly disposed (i.e., when it is neither too hot nor too cold). From this perspective, therefore, it is tempting to think that the whole of proximate matter—prime matter and form(s)—is in potency to form. I argue for the first hand, viz., that the passive potency of proximate matter is due to its prime matter, by considering Scotus’s notion of obediential potency, which is the sort of potency that prime matter has to be immediately informed by any form through the action of a non- natural agent such as God. ii Motivating Matter: The Argument from Change

What is prime matter supposed to do? What philosophical problem does it solve? Unlike a conviction that there are things like cows and oak trees, which we might call a pretheoretical conviction, the conviction that there is prime matter is a theoretical conviction—it is posited as part of a philosophical the- ory, and in particular a theory that tries to accommodate commonsense con- victions about how things like cows and oak trees come to be and pass away. Cows and oak trees have beginnings and endings, but they seem to come from other things and when they pass away other things seem to come to be from them. For simplicity’s sake it is tempting to move in one of two revisionist directions. On the one hand, one might deny that there really are things like cows and oak trees by denying that anything really comes to be or passes away: there is just one thing (Parmenides), or perhaps myriad atoms in the void (Democritus). On the other hand, one might deny that things like cows and oak trees really do come from other things: perhaps God zaps them into

The Purpose Of Prime Matter 9 existence at the moment it looks as if they come from another (al-Ghāzāli, Malebranche). Hylomorphism is a philosophical attempt to avoid the revisions and preserve the phenomena. In Lectura. II, d. 12, q. un, Scotus offers an Aristotelian argument for the exis- tence of prime matter based on certain convictions about the nature of change.3 The argument attempts to show that without some “patient on which an agent acts” there could be no substantial change:

[Aristotle’s] argument is formed in this way:

[A1] every natural agent requires a patient on which it acts (this is clear to the senses); [A2] the patient, on which an agent acts, is changed from opposite to opposite; [A3] this opposite does not come from that opposite in such a way that nothing common to both remains (as whiteness does not become blackness); [A4] therefore just as in the case of accidental change, in which the agent of change moves a thing from opposite to opposite, while that thing remains the same under both opposites, so also it is necessary in the case of generation that the generating agent changes something from form to form,4 which remains the same under both [forms]; that is said to be matter.5

Scotus takes [A1] to be obvious on empirical grounds. Natural agents produce their effects from existing things. A beaver builds his dam from trees; a baker

3 See for example Physics I 190a 13–21 (Barnes I, p. 324); On Generation and Corruption I 319b 6–320a 4 (Barnes I, pp. 522–523); Metaphysics XII 1069b 3–21 (Barnes II, p. 1689). 4 It is interesting that in [A4] Scotus uses a forma in formam, introducing the term “form” for the first time in this paragraph, instead of ab opposito in oppositum, as he uses twice earlier in the argument. Unless Scotus commits a blatant fallacy of four terms, he must be using the terms “opposite” and “form” in exactly the same way—in this text at least. 5 Lectura. II, d. 12, q. un (Vatican XIX, p. 72); Formatur eius ratio sic: [A1] omne agens naturale requirit passum in quod agens agit (hoc patet ad sensum); [A2] illud passum, in quod agens agit, transmutatur ab opposito in oppositum; [A3] hoc opppositum non fit illud oppositum, ita quod nihil commune remaneat utrique (sicut albedo non fit nigredo); [A4] sicut igitur in transmutatione accidentali transmutans aliquid, movet illud ab opposito in oppositum manens idem sub utroque oppositorum, ita oportet in generatione quod generans transmu- tet aliquid a forma in formam, manens idem sub utraque; illud dicitur esse materia. All trans- lations from Latin are my own unless otherwise indicated, in this and every other chapter.

10 Chapter 1 bakes his cake from eggs, flour, and water. By ‘natural agent’ Scotus apparently means ‘non-divine’ agent.6 He would likely include angels among the natural agents since, although they are immaterial, they nevertheless produce their material effects in pre-existing materials.7 A divine agent is unlimited in its causality and therefore can and does produce its effects from nothing. The idea expressed in [A2] is that the two terms of a change are opposed in the sense that they are incompossible. One and the same thing cannot be a forest and a beaver dam simultaneously; the egg must be cracked for the cake to come into being. This incompossibility may be due to either metaphysical or merely logical reasons. A man cannot be musical and non-musical simultane- ously, so the change by which a man becomes musical is the very change by which he ceases to be non-musical. But there is not something, non-musicality, that is corrupted when the man acquires musicality, so the opposition between these properties is merely logical. Nor can a man be pale all over and tan all over simultaneously. The change by which a man becomes tan is the very change by which he ceases to be pale, but in this case there is something, pale- ness, that is corrupted when the man gets his tan. The opposition between these properties is something more than logical opposition; tanness and pale- ness just cannot exist together, so we describe their opposition as metaphysi- cal. For Scotus’s purposes in [A2], either sort of opposition is salient. [A2] leaves open the possibility that the patient on which the agent acts is identical with one of a pair of opposites. For all [A2] says, for example, it may be that when a baker pulls his cake out of the oven, there is no part of the flour, water, eggs, etc. that is now a part of the cake; perhaps every part of the ingre- dients is destroyed in the process of producing the cake. And [A2] must leave open this possibility; otherwise the argument for matter from change would include as a premise that something in addition to an opposite is required for change—in other words, it would include its conclusion as a premise. [A3] rules out this possibility. The pallor of a pale thing is not the reason for or cause

6 Scotus elsewhere contrasts a natural power with a rational power, where a natural power is a power that is determined to produce its effect and a rational power is a power that is not (cf. Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, q. 15, Bonaventure IV, pp. 675–699). But Scotus does not seem to have this distinction in mind in [A1] since a non-divine agent, whether natural or rational in the sense intended in Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IV, q. 15, cannot produce something ex nihilo. 7 In Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d. 8, q. un, n. 4 (Wadding XI, p. 299), Scotus speculates that angels locally move bodies through will power (per imperium voluntatis). I have not been able to find a text where Scotus speculates on angels’ abilities to effect qualitative or substantial change.

The Purpose Of Prime Matter 11 of that thing’s ability to become tan (except insofar as being pale entails being not-tan, which of course is a necessary condition for a thing to have the ability to become tan). When pale-Socrates becomes tan-Socrates, the change in color is not due to any passive or active power in the pallor of Socrates; pallor itself cannot become what it is not, but a pale thing can; and, strictly speaking, pale- Socrates cannot cease to be pale, but Socrates can cease to be pale-Socrates. The color change is explained by divvying up pale-Socrates into Socrates him- self and his pallor. Socrates is the substance that is the subject of pallor, and pallor is simply an of that substance. The substance itself has the abil- ity to take on many different colors. [A4] draws the analogy between accidental change, such as Socrates’s color change, and substantial change, the sort of change by which one substance is corrupted and another is generated. Earth cannot become fire just insofar as it is earth. The substantial change by which earth becomes fire is explained by divvying up earth into a substantial form (of earth), and something else, prime matter, in virtue of which earth can be transformed, and which “remains the same” first under the form of earth and then under the form of fire. It is worth saying a little more about what it means for one form to be opposed to another. First, according to Scotus, a form “is not naturally corrupt- ible nor is inclined to corruption.” It “strives to preserve itself,” and there is in it no “natural aptitude of itself to not existing.” If a substance were form alone without matter, it would follow that it is “intrinsically incorruptible.”8 Form, in other words, cannot become what it is not. But a material substance can. Substances are intrinsically corruptible and apt to not existing (as we know from experience), so something besides form makes a substance to be this way. What Scotus calls matter is just that part of a substance that has these (passive) powers that form lacks. Whereas form strives to preserve itself, matter has an appetite for the corruption of the substance of which it is a part and for the generation of a new substance:

If there were not matter, remaining the same under both contraries, no passive generation would be natural, since if there were not matter,

8 Lectura II, d. 12, q. un, n. 19 (Vatican XIX, pp. 75–76), [S]i non esset materia in composito, sed tantum forma, quodlibet creatum intrinsece esset aequaliter incorruptibile. Nam actus tan- tum et simplex non est naturaliter corruptibilis nec inclinatur ad corruptionem: nam forma aëris nititur se salvare, nec est in aliqua aptitudine naturali ex se ad non essendum, ut videtur; si igitur aër esset tantum forma, sicut tu dicis, et quodlibet creatum, ita quod nullum ens habe- ret in se diversa principia (potentiale et actuale), sequitur quod quodlibet aequaliter sit incor- ruptibile instrinsece, non habens magis instrinsice aër quod sit corruptibilis quam caelum.

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then no appetite for the term generated would preexist, nor would there be something that naturally is inclined to the term generated, for the form does not desire to be corrupted, since then it would desire its own corruption.9

Since the generation of a new substance requires both an efficient cause and a patient on which that cause acts, generation is both active and passive— active generation is the action of the efficient cause which generates, and passive generation is the passion of the patient which is generated. It is natural for a substance to be generated from another substance because the latter substance includes a passive component, prime matter, the nature of which is to desire or be inclined toward a new generated term. Second, there are at least two senses in which one form is opposed to another, only one of which is relevant to the argument from change. In the first sense, any two forms, whether substantial or accidental, are opposed in the sense that one cannot become another. But this sense of opposition is not rel- evant to the argument for matter, since many forms coinhere in one and the same substance. A whiteness is opposed in this sense to Socrates’s substantial form, but both forms are compossible because both can inform one and the same subject simultaneously. In the second and relevant sense, however, some forms are opposed in such a manner that, for some individual matter, the inherence of one form in that matter is incompatible with the simultaneous inherence of the other form in that matter. For such pairs of forms, a necessary condition for a subject’s informed by one is that subject’s ceasing to be informed by the other. iii Why Must Matter Persist through Change?

The conclusion of the argument from change holds that the patient on which an agent acts “remains the same” under one form and then another. I take this to mean that matter persists through change, and Scotus understands it this way, too. But the argument from change does not actually entail that matter

9 Lectura II, d. 12, q. un, n. 17 (Vatican XIX, p. 74), Si non esset materia, manens eadem sub utroque contrariorum, nulla generatio passiva esset naturalis, quia si non esset materia, tunc nullus appetitus praecessit ad terminum generatum nec esset ibi aliquid quod naturaliter inclinaretur ad terminum generatum, nam forma corrumpenda non appetit, quia tunc appeteret sui ipsius corruptionem.

The Purpose Of Prime Matter 13 persists through change.10 Instead, it merely entails that there must be something whose nature it is to be that by which a substance is corruptible and by which something new can be generated from that substance. Scotus explic- itly reasons for matter’s persistence in a second argument in Lectura II, d. 12, q. un. This argument begins with the claim, evident from the argument from change, that an efficient cause requires matter to produce its effect, and goes on to argue that this entails that matter must persist through change. In this section I analyze this argument. The argument is an indirect proof which shows how an obviously false con- clusion follows from the assumption that both the form and matter of the patient on which an agent acts are corrupted. He begins by presenting the view he means to reject, namely that

[B1] In the instant of corruption the agent does not presuppose the patient on which it acts.11

The claim here is that while the patient of change has some role in the agent’s production of a new substance, that role does not involve one of its parts (viz., the matter) persisting through the corruption of the patient (viz., the compos- ite of matter and form). But if the agent does not presuppose the patient in this way, Scotus reasons, then

[B2] In the instant of corruption the agent generates ex nihilo,12 an activity traditionally thought to be God’s alone. But [B2] only follows from [B1] if generation ex nihilo is understood in a special sense. Scotus distinguishes two ways of understanding production ex nihilo:

[ex nihilo1] The agent’s generation of a new substance does not depend on the active or passive power of anything besides the agent, and

10 David Ebrey argues that Aristotle agrees. David Buckley Ebrey, “Aristotle’s Motivation for Matter,” unpublished doctoral dissertation (ucla, 2007). 11 Lectura II, d. 12, q. un, n. 12 (Vatican XIX, p. 73). [D]icitur a quibusdam quod agens naturale agit in passum corrumpendum, et illud passum corrumpendum praesupponit in quod agat; sed in instanti corruptionis non praesupponit, sed tunc totum vertitur in totum, ex I De generatione. 12 Lectura II, d. 12, q. un, n. 13 (Vatican XIX, p. 73).

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[ex nihilo2] There is no part of the generated thing which was first a part of something else.13

[B1] does not entail that the agent generates both ex nihilo1 and ex nihilo2, how- ever. The defender of [B1] would deny that a natural agent produces its effect ex nihilo1. But he would assert

[B2*] In the instant of corruption the agent generates ex nihilo2.

For Scotus, however, the sense in which an agent’s generation of a new sub- stance depends on a patient just is that the agent requires a part from the patient—the patient’s matter—in order to generate its effect. So if Scotus’s opponent’s position is to be salvaged, there must be some alternative way of understanding the dependence of an agent on a patient. But there is not, argues Scotus. In other words, Scotus claims that

[B3] No agent can generate ex nihilo2 without also generating ex nihilo1.

Since no one would be willing to attribute generation ex nihilo1 to a merely natural agent (and since [B2*] follows from [B1]), showing [B3] furnishes Scotus with a successful ad hominem argument against [B1]. He argues for [B3] in the following way. If, in the instant of the corruption, there is no part of the generated thing which was first a part of the patient (that is, if [B2*]), then

[B4] The agent generates every part of its effect, including both the mat- ter and form of the effect.

If an agent generates every part of its effect, what then is the patient contribut- ing to the agent’s causal activity? Scotus discerns no role for a patient, given [B4]. But he also thinks that a patient of change in some sense resists the efficient causality of the agent, and therefore thinks that an agent able to

13 Lectura II, d. 12, q. un, n. 14 (Vatican XIX, p. 73), Ad hoc dicitur quod “aliquid produci ex nihilo” potest intelligi dupliciter: vel sicut de termino et initiative, vel sicut de parte et subiective. Primo modo non est verum quod generans generat ex nihilo, sed requiritur aliquid corrumpendum; et ideo generat de aliquo initative vel in termino a quo. Sed secundo modo verum est quod generans generat ex nihilo, quia nihil corrupti manet in generato. See also Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d. 12, q. 1, nn. 2–4 (Wadding XI, pp. 315–316).

The Purpose Of Prime Matter 15 generate every part of its effect would actually be diminished in its causal efficacy while it is in proximity to such a patient:

[A]n agent which has every part of the effect in its power is no less able to produce when that which weakens rather than strengthens its power is removed; but according to you the generator has in its active power every part of the effect, since in the instant of generation it presupposes noth- ing of [that which weakens rather than strengthens an agent’s power]. Therefore the generator is able to produce the thing to be generated, when that which weakens rather than strengthens its power is removed. But [an agent’s] power is weakened rather than strengthened through action on the contrary thing to be corrupted. Therefore a natural agent, having taken away any patient, is able to produce its effect.14

Scotus supposes that if [B4] were true, then any patient on which the agent acts in bringing about all the parts of the effect will hinder rather assist the agent’s efficient causal activity. So he concludes that given a commitment to [B2*], not only is there no way for an agent to depend on a patient in producing its effect, but the agent would actually be better off without the patient! Scotus reinforces his argument by appealing to the Aristotelian efficient causal axiom

[B5] A natural15 agent necessarily produces its effect unless there is an impediment, and continues,

[A] natural agent, such as fire, has in its power a whole effect, from what was given; therefore if not impeded, it will produce the whole effect. But it is not impeded through some natural agent, nor through the

14 Lectura II, d. 12, q. un, n. 15 (Vatican XIX, pp. 73–73), Contra: agens quod habet in virtute sua totum effectum, non minus potest producere amoto quocumque quo posito magis debilitatur virtus eius quam fortificetur; sed per te generans habet in virtute sua activa totum effectum, quia nihil eius praesupponit in instanti generationis; igitur generans potest producere genitum amoto quocumque quo posito magis debilitatur virtus eius quam fortificetur. Per actionem autem in contrarium corrumpendum, debilitatur virtus eius activa et non fortificatur; igitur agens naturale amoto quocumque passo potest pro- ducere effectum. 15 The qualification “natural” in [B5] is intended to exclude rational agents, which do not produce their effects necessarily but have a power for opposites. Cf. Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, q. 15.

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absence of some contrary patient (but rather it is weakened through its presence); therefore absent water and any contrary agent, it will produce fire, and this from nothing at all.16

It is clear that the argument depends on an understanding of “impediment” in [B5] according to which impediments to an agent’s productivity come in degrees. That is, a patient may be said to impede an agent when that agent cannot produce its effect, but a patient may also be said to impede an agent when it resists but does not prevent an agent’s productivity. Scotus says that the latter sort of impediment “weakens” an agent. This broader understand- ing of impediment is rooted in Scotus’s understanding of the opposition of forms, expressed in [A3]. Scotus says that form “strives to preserve itself ”;17 it is in the nature of form to keep on existing, and in this sense form resists activity which corrupts the subject which it informs. For example, fire burns a dry log rapidly, a damp log less so, and a saturated log even less so. The water in the log is opposed to and resists the fire. Understanding [B5] in this broader sense yields

[B6] Any patient impedes or weakens an agent, even if it does not actu- ally prevent the agent from producing its effect.

Since Scotus holds that an agent not only acts on a patient but changes one of its parts (the matter) into a part of the substance it generates, Scotus can simul- taneously hold that a patient both weakens an agent’s power but is required for an agent’s production of a new substance. Remove this requirement, as Scotus’s opponent does, and what is left, by [B6], is a patient whose presence merely impedes the agent’s activity. By [B5], the agent would be better off without the patient. So in the absence of an alternative explanation of how an agent depends on a patient, and in light of [B6], Scotus, thinks [B3] holds and there- fore denies [B1]. Scotus concludes, then, that in addition to being that by which a material substance has passive power, matter also persists through

16 Lectura II, d. 12, q. un, n. 16 (Vatican XIX, p. 74), omne agens naturale, potens in aliquem totum effectum, de necessitate illum faciet non impedimentum, ex IX Metaphysicae cap. 4, sicut etiam de necessitate producit formam, si non impeditur; sed agens naturale, ut ignis, habet in virtute sua totum effectum, ex datis; igitur non impeditum, sic producet totum effectum. Sed non impeditur per aliquem agentem, nec per absentiam alicuius contrarii passi (sed magis debilitatur per eius praesentiam); igitur absente acqua et quocumque contrario agente, producet ignem—et ita de nihilo omnino. 17 Lectura II, d. 12, q. un, n. 19 (Vatican XIX, pp. 75–76).

The Purpose Of Prime Matter 17 substantial change such that for any two substances, where the first is substan- tially changed into the second, the matter of the first becomes the matter of the second. Here is the argument for matter’s persistence in summary form. Suppose for reductio that

[B1] In the instant of corruption the agent does not presuppose the patient on which it acts, where this is understood to mean that no part of the patient persists through the generation of the agent’s effect. From [B1] it follows that

[B2] In the instant of corruption the agent generates ex nihilo.

But there are two senses of generation ex nihilo, namely,

[ex nihilo1] The agent’s generation of a new substance does not depend on the active or passive power of anything besides the agent, and

[ex nihilo2] There is no part of the generated thing which was first a part of something else.

Since Scotus and his opponent would concur that no natural agent generates ex nihilo1, [B2] can be stated more precisely as

[B2*] In the instant of corruption the agent generates ex nihilo2.

From [B2*] it follows that

[B4] The agent generates every part of its effect, including both the mat- ter and form of the effect.

But given that

[B6] Any patient impedes or weakens an agent, even if it does not actu- ally prevent the agent from producing its effect; and

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[B5] A natural agent necessarily produces its effect unless there is an impediment, an agent that did not produce its effect from a part of a patient would more easily produce its effect without any relation at all to the patient, and would therefore not depend on the patient for its effect. From this it follows that

[B3] No agent can generate ex nihilo2 without also generating ex nihilo1.

No one would hold that natural generation can be ex nihilo1, however, so [B3] entails, ad hominem, that not-[B1].18 iv Matter as Passive Power

Matter is supposed to be a partial explanation of why some change occurs, but being able to persist does not explain change. It only asserts that, when some change occurs, some part of the corrupted substance is not itself destroyed and can become a part of the generated substance. For the explanation of change we need something by nature cooperative with any efficient cause, something that, as Scotus says, has an appetite for and is naturally inclined to the term of change—call this matter.19 Matter’s nature is to be the passive power of a sub- stance to undergo corruption and to be that from which something else comes to be. That this passive power persists, and must persist, is a consequence of a created agent’s dependence on preexistent materials in producing its charac- teristic effect, but being able to persist is not what it is to be a passive power. What matters for matter is not merely that it persists but that it is a special kind of power. In this section I characterize this additional feature of matter in vir- tue of which it plays the role it does in change, namely, that it is essentially a passive power for receiving forms. The text we have been examining, Lectura II, d. 12, q. un, describes matter several times as a passive power. Scotus develops his understanding of matter

18 Versions of the argument tracked in [B1] through [B6] can also be found in Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q. 5, nn. 8–12 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 132–133) and Reportatio Parisiensis II-A d. 12, q. 1, nn. 3–4 (Wadding XI, pp. 314–315). 19 Lectura II, d. 12, q. un, n. 17 (Vatican XIX, p. 74), Si non esset materia, manens eadem sub utroque contrariorum, nulla generatio passiva esset naturalis, quia si non esset materia, tunc nullus appetitus praecessit ad terminum generatum nec esset ibi aliquid quod natu- raliter inclinaretur ad terminum generatum, nam forma corrumpenda non appetit, quia tunc appeteret sui ipsius corruptionem.

The Purpose Of Prime Matter 19 as passive power in QMet IX, so in this section we will look to this text for guidance. In QMet IX, qq. 1–2, Scotus distinguishes two meanings of potentia or potency: potency as a mode of being, and potency as a principle.20 As a princi- ple, potency is power—that by which a thing can come to be. As a mode of being, potency is possible existence, such as the possible existence of a white- ness in Socrates or the possible existence of Antichrist (to borrow Scotus’s example). In this section I consider potency as a principle, and in the first sec- tion of Chapter 2 I consider it as a mode of being. Scotus divides powers into two kinds, active and passive, identifying the for- mer with the efficient cause and the latter with matter. Scotus thinks of a causal power, whether active or passive, as essentially an absolute (i.e., non- relational) , which is by nature a power for something or other, and which is the foundation of a relation to whatever it is that comes about as a result of the exercise of that power:

[…N]othing pertains to the essential notion of power except some abso- lute essence in which some relationship to the effect brought about by that power is immediately founded, such that no relation precedes in act the activity itself by which the effect is brought about; no relation is that through which a power is determined to produce its effect. Instead, the absolute effect is from something absolute, without any preceding rela- tion; once the effect is posited, an actual mutual relation of the effect to the power follows, naturally posterior to the effect, which could not exist in one if it were not posited in the other.21

20 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, qq. 1–2, n. 14 (Bonaventure IV, p. 512), Uno modo potentia dicit modum quendam entis. Alio modo specialiter importat rationem principii. Cui autem istorum fuerit nomen prius impositum, et inde ad aliud translatum, dubium est. Si tamen primo imponebatur ad significandum modum quen- dam entis, cum iste non conveniat enti tali nisi per aliquod eius principium per quod potest esse, convenienter potest nomen potentiae transferri ad principium tamquam ad illud quo possibile potest esse, non ‘quo’ formaliter, sed causaliter—Similiter, si primo imponebatur principio per quod res potest esse, potest transferri ad significandum gener- aliter modum essendi similem illi quem habet principiatum in principio. 21 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, q. 5, n. 13 (Bonaventure IV, p. 563), […N]ihil est de ratione potentiae nisi absoluta aliqua essentia, in qua immediate fundatur aliquis respectus ad principiatum, ita quod nullus respectus praecedit in actu ipsam prin- cipiationem per quam quasi determinetur ad principiandum. Sed ab absoluto, since omni respectu praecedente, est effectus absolutus; quo posito, posterius natura sequitur

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And what holds of power in general holds of passive power in particular:

[Passive power], according to its essential notion, is a part of the composite and is perfected by form (which is the other part), accord- ing to which notion it is naturally prior to its effect as such a princi- ple. But this is precisely under an absolute notion; for in this case it is immediately a part of the composite and is perfected by form, since if some relation were of the notion of passive power insofar as it is a part of the composite, that relation would also be of the notion of the composite, and thus no material thing would be essen- tially absolute.22

Scotus’s arguments that powers in general and passive powers in particular are absolute (non-relative) are aimed at Henry of Ghent’s opposing view, that powers are essentially relative. For Henry, to ascribe a power to something absolute, whether form, matter, or the composite, is to attribute to it a relation to a term.23 As Henry says,

Concerning the nature of a power (in as much as it is a power), it is spo- ken of with reference to activity, so it is not some absolute thing, but rather just this relatedness [to the activity in question] that is based on something absolute.24

relatio actualis mutua principiati ad principium, quae in neutro esse potuit, altero extremo non posito […]. 22 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, q. 5, n. 11 (Bonaventure IV, p. 562), [Potentia passiva] secundum illam rationem essentialem, est pars compositi et perficitur a forma, quae est altera pars, secundum rationem est prior naturaliter principiato ut tale principium. Hoc autem est praecise sub ratione absoluti; sic enim immediate est pars compositi et perficitur a forma. Quia si aliqua relatio esset de ratione eius in quantum est pars compositi, illa etiam relatio esset de ratione compositi, et ita nullum materiale esset essentialiter absolutum. Also, Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, qq. 1–2, n. 15 (Bonaventure IV, p. 512). 23 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, q. 5, nn. 4–6 (Bonaventure IV pp. 560–561); the editors reference several texts of Henry in the notes. See J.T. Paasch’s discussion in Divine Production in Late Medieval Trinitarian Theology: Henry of Ghent, Duns Scotus, and William Ockham (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), pp. 117–122; and see Scott Williams, “Henry of Ghent on Real Relations and the Trinity: The Case for Numerical Sameness without Identity,” Recherches de Théologie et Philosophie Médiévales 79:1 (2012), pp. 109–148. 24 Henry of Ghent, Summae Quaestionum Ordinarium a. 35, q. 2, ed. Jodicus Badius (Paris, 1520; reprinted by The Franciscan Institute, St. Bonaventure, ny, 1953). “[D]e ratione

The Purpose Of Prime Matter 21

Prima facie, Henry’s view has the ring of truth, since a power is only intelligible as a power for something or other. But Scotus objects that powers naturally precede their functioning, such that the subject of a power is powerful prior to the production of that power’s effect. To make Scotus’s argument against Henry perspicuous, let x be the subject of a power, P, and let’s say that x φs when x exercises P and produces its effect, E. (Scotus himself thinks that there are some powers that are, as it were, their own subjects, such that x and P would be identical. In such cases, as he puts it, that which (quod) is powerful is the same as that by which (quo) it is powerful. Prime matter itself is just such a power. I will revisit this point later on.) Scotus argues that if P were simply a relation (of x to E), one of three disjuncts would be true: x is related by P to E (i) simultaneous with, or (ii), posterior to, or (iii) prior to, E’s existence (and therefore simultaneous with, posterior to, or prior to, x’s φing). (iii) is false because a real (causal) relation requires the actual existence of the effect—P is a real relation of x to E only if E actually exists. If we suppose instead, trying to salvage (iii), that P is a relation to potential-E, then P itself would be merely a potential relation. But what is potential does not remain potential when it is reduced to act. Thus, if P is a potential relation of x to poten- tial-E, P ceases to be at the moment E begins to be, and therefore (since E is the effect brought about by P) P ceases to be at the moment x φs.25 This argument against (iii) should sound fishy. Why suppose that, if P is a potential relation, P ceases to be when E is actualized? Why not suppose instead that if P is a potential relation of x to potential-E, then P simply becomes actual when potential-E becomes actual E? Scotus’s answer lies in his claim,

[pr] Whatever belongs to the nature of P prior to x’s φing belongs to the nature of P when x φs.26

It follows from [pr] that if P is a potential relation prior to x’s φing then P is a potential relation when x φs. And it follows from this that x is potentially

potentiae inquantum potentia, est quod quod dicatur ad actum, ita quod nihil sit absolu- tum, sed solus respectus fundatus in re super aliquo absoluto.” The translation is from Paasch, Divine Production in Late Medieval Trinitatian Theology, p. 118. 25 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, q. 5, nn. 9–10 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 561–562). 26 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, q. 5, n. 9 (Bonaventure IV, p. 561), Manet autem in principio quando principiat quidquid est de ratione eius in quantum est prius naturaliter principiato.

22 Chapter 1

(causally) related to its actual effect E, which is infelicitous. While Scotus does not argue for [pr], it is not hard to motivate it. A power is supposed to be that because of which something comes to be. If P is a power for bringing about E, then P is supposed to explain how E becomes actual, i.e., moves from potency to act. But if both P and E are potential entities, then P cannot explain how E becomes actual. (i) and (ii) will not work for the obvious reason that powers are prior to the effects brought about by means of powers. It is evident by the meaning of the terms that if x has P for producing E, then x can produce E. But if x has P only when x is φing or has φd, then x can φ if and only if it is φing or has φd. But presumably at least some statements with the form, “x can φ but is not φing,” are true.27 For example, a generator that is turned off is not generating electricity but it can generate electricity (if it is turned on).28 But according to (i) and (ii), from statements of the form, “x can φ but is not φing,” together with the biconditional, “x can φ if and only if it is φing or has φd,” one can always derive a contradiction. Scotus therefore con- cludes that P is not a relation but something absolute. Of course, showing that powers are not relations does not entail that there are absolute powers. One might agree with Scotus’s analysis of Henry’s theory but reject powers altogether, as many philosophers have done, for example,

27 For clarity’s sake, I am not invoking Scotus’s innovative idea about synchronic possibility, that x can φ at the temporal instant at which x is not φing. Even if Scotus is wrong and x can φ only after it ceases to not-φ, “x can φ but is not φing,” can still be true. For some of the scholarship on Scotus’s metaphysics of modality see Simo Knuuttila, Modalities in Medieval Philosophy (London and New York: Routledge, 1993); Simo Knuuttila, “Interpreting Scotus’s Theory of Modality: Three Critical Remarks,” in Via Scoti: Methodologia ad mentem Joannis Duns Scoti, vol. 1, ed. Leonardo Sileo (Rome: Edizioni Antonianum, 1995), pp. 295–303; Stephen Dumont, “The Origin of Scotus’s Theory of Synchronic Contingency,” The Modern Schoolman 72 (1995), pp. 149–167; Calvin Normore, “Scotus, Modality, Instants of Nature and the Contingency of the Present,” in John Duns Scotus: Metaphysics and , ed. Ludger Honnefelder, Rega Wood, and Mechthild Dreyer (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1996), pp. 161–174; Calvin Normore, “Duns Scotus’s Modal Theory,” in The Cambridge Companion to John Duns Scotus, ed. Thomas Williams (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), pp. 129–160; Douglas Langston, “Scotus and Possible Worlds,” in Knowledge and the Sciences in Medieval Philosophy, vol. 2, ed. Simo Knuuttila, Reijo Työrinoja, and Stan Ebbesen (Helsinki: Yliopistopaino, 1990), pp. 240–247; Nicole Wyatt, “Did Duns Scotus Invent Possible Worlds Semantics?” Australasian Journal of Philosophy 83 (2000), pp. 196–212. 28 The example is from Paasch, Divine Production in Late Medieval Trinitatian Theology, p. 144.

The Purpose Of Prime Matter 23

David Hume29 and David Lewis.30 But Scotus and Henry inhabit a power- saturated world. Scotus’s powers are, then, essentially absolute entities. In a text quoted above, Scotus says:

[…N]othing pertains to the essential notion of power except some abso- lute essence in which some relationship to the effect brought about by that power is immediately founded, such that no relation precedes in act the activity itself by which the effect is brought about; no relation is that through which a power is determined to produce its effect. Instead, the absolute effect is from something absolute, without any preceding rela- tion; once the effect is posited, an actual mutual relation of the effect to the power follows, naturally posterior to the effect, which could not exist in one if it were not posited in the other.31

Here Scotus clearly distinguishes between a power, the exercise of that power, and the relation of that power to the effect brought about by that power. Neither the power nor the exercise of that power is a relation, and this should be clear from the argument against (iii), above: there are no real relations to nonexistent terms. v Obediential Potency and the Subject of Passive Power

Socrates has passive power to receive a form of whiteness. Socrates, of course, is a full-fledged substance, a composite of prime matter and several substantial

29 David Hume, An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding VII, ed. Eric Steinberg (Indianapolis, in: Hackett, 1993), p. 41, “When we look about us towards external objects, and consider the operation of causes, we are never able in a single instance, to discover any power or necessary connexion; any , which binds the effect to the cause, and renders the one an infallible consequence of the other. We only find, that the one does actually, in fact, follow the other.” 30 David Lewis, “Causation,” Journal of Philosophy, 70, pp. 556–567, and the updated theory in David Lewis, “Causation as Influence,” Journal of Philosophy, 97, pp. 182–197. Lewis’s basic idea is to analyze causal dependence counterfactually and as a relation between

events (not substances or their properties), such that an event e1 causally depends on an

event e2 (or e2 influences e1), if and only if, if e1 occurs e2 occurs and if e1 does not occur e2 does not occur. 31 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, q. 5, n. 13 (Bonaventure IV, p. 563), […N]ihil est de ratione potentiae nisi absoluta aliqua essentia, in qua immediate

24 Chapter 1 forms. And Socrates himself is the proximate matter that is in potency to a whiteness. What is it about Socrates in virtue of which he has this potency? Is it his prime matter alone, or his prime matter together with his forms? The short answer is that it is his prime matter alone. But the question is harder to answer than it first appears. On the one hand, Scotus says that in substances composed of matter and form, the substance has passive power because it has a part—prime matter—that is passive power. In Scotus’s terms, the substance is that which (quod) is passively powerful, but the matter of the substance is that by which (quo) it is passively powerful.32 Prime matter does not have, but just is, passive power.33 In QMet IX, q. 12, Scotus says of prime matter that,

[It] has of itself a natural inclination to be a part of any composite, and to be perfected by any form which can be a part and by which [prime mat- ter] can be perfected.34

On the other hand, under natural conditions, where prime matter is informed by one or more forms, prime matter is not apt to receive just any form, but only a limited range of kinds of forms. There is a “necessary order” in the succession of forms in matter, Scotus says, such that the forms, whether accidental or sub- stantial, to which a particular material substance has passive potency at one time, are determined by the accidental and substantial forms which partially compose that substance at that time.35 Although Scotus expresses doubt about

fundatur aliquis respectus ad principiatum, ita quod nullus respectus praecedit in actu ipsam principiationem per quam quasi determinetur ad principiandum. Sed ab absoluto, since omni respectu praecedente, est effectus absolutus; quo posito, posterius natura sequitur relatio actualis mutua principiati ad principium, quae in neutro esse potuit, altero extremo non posito […]. 32 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, qq. 3–4, n. 19 (Bonaventure IV, p. 542). 33 For an opposing interpretation of Scotus according to which passive power is a property of matter, see Peter King, “Duns Scotus on Possibilities, Powers, and the Possible,” in Potentialität und Possibilität: Modalaussagen in Der Geschichte Der Metaphysik, ed. T. Buchheim, K. Lorenz, and C.H. Kneepkens (Stuttgart: Frommann-Holzboog, 2001), pp. 175–199, esp. p. 189. Richard Cross, on the other hand, has rightly recognized that for Scotus matter is identical with passive power. See his “Identity, Origin, and Persistence in Duns Scotus’s Physics,” History of Philosophy Quarterly 16 (1999), pp. 1–18, esp. p. 10. 34 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, q. 12, n. 6 (Bonaventure IV, p. 612). 35 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, q. 12, n. 10 (Bonaventure IV, p. 614), Et de hoc videtur dicendum quod cum formae naturales habeant ordinem necessario in

The Purpose Of Prime Matter 25 our ability to have any deep insight into the reasons why this order is the way it is, as an example we might say that a composite of prime matter and the form of bronze is in immediate potency to the form of a statue, but not in immediate potency to an animal soul. This suggests that having passive potency is more than just having a part that is passive potency; forms seem to play some role in a substance’s passive potency. Nevertheless, Scotus takes this “necessary order” of forms to be necessary only with respect to created agents:

But because that order is not necessary except insofar as matter is changed by a natural agent to whose power that order is not subject, thus obediential potency has a place here, according to which matter can receive any form immediately after any other, through the transmutation of an agent to whose power that aforementioned order is subject. Nevertheless this potency of matter is not properly obedient to form or the composite, but to the agent from which it receives form. For ‘obedi- ence’ properly signifies a subjection to an agent able to make the obedient thing do what it wants it to do.36

With respect to God’s power, Scotus reasons, matter really is able immediately to be informed by any form, regardless of the forms it now is under. The Prince, for example, cannot immediately be transformed into a frog by any natural agent, since any natural agent would be subject to the necessary order of the succession of forms; but perhaps God could turn the Prince into a frog. The moral of the story is that prime matter of itself is in potency to any form, and that a sufficiently powerful agent can actualize this potency in matter all by itself. A natural agent’s inability to transform the bronze immediately into a liv­ ing thing is due solely to its own limitations and not to any restriction of prime matter’s potency by the form of bronze.

succedendo sibi invicem in materia (secundum quod manifestum est ad sensum […]) oportet dicere quod materia, ut sub una forma, non est nata transmutari immediate ad quamcumque, sed ad determinatam. 36 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, q. 12, n. 11 (Bonaventure IV, p. 614), Sed quia ordo iste non est necessarius nisi in quantum materia transmutatur ad agente naturali, cuius virtuti non subicitur iste ordo, ideo hic habet locum potentia oboedi- entialis, secundum quam materia cuiuscumque formae capax est immediate post quamcumque, per transmutationem ab agente, cuius virtuti subest dictus ordo. Non tamen est haec potentia materiae ad formam vel compositum proprie oboedientialis, sed ad agens a quo sic recipit formam. ‘Oboedientia’ enim proprie significat subiectionem respectu agentis potentis de oboediente facere quod vult.

26 Chapter 1

Scotus’s doctrine of the obediential potency of matter to any form should influence the way in which we interpret passages in which he describes the conditions under which a subject is in potency to a form. For example, Scotus thought that several conditions must be met before an embryo could receive a soul:

For the animation by the intellective soul there is needed a heart and liver of determinate heat, a brain of determinate frigidity, and so on for individual organic parts. But such a disposition ceasing, there can still remain some species or quality which stays with the form of corporeity, although not that which is required for the existence and operation of the intellective soul in matter.37

If the embryo’s prime matter is always in obediential potency to receive any form, then it can receive the intellective soul without these conditions being met. When merely natural agents are involved and these conditions are met, therefore, these additional forms in matter do not limit or modify the potency of prime matter; instead they enable a natural agent to actualize the potency of matter. What God could do all by himself under any conditions, a natural agent can do only under special conditions. I conclude, then, that the passive potency of proximate matter to receive form is just the passive potency of one its parts—prime matter. The apparent determinations of prime matter’s potency by forms are ultimately explained as limitations on natural agents’ abilities to produce form in prime matter.

37 Ordinatio IV, d. 11, p. 1, a. 2, q. 1, n. 284 (Vatican XII, p. 267), Istud patet exemplo, quia ad animationem ab intellectiva requiruntur cor et hepar determinate calida, cerebrum ceterminate frigidum, et sic de singulis partibus organicis; tali autem dispositione ces- sante, potest adhuc manere aliquas species vel qualitas, quae stat cum forma mixtionis, licet non illa quae requiritur ad esse et operationem intellectivae in materia.

Chapter 2 The Ontology of Prime Matter

Scotus said that we can think of matter either as a power or as a possible being.1 In the previous chapter I examined Scotus’s characterization of prime matter as a cer- tain kind of power, the passive power of a substance to undergo accidental and sub- stantial change. This chapter focuses on the sense in which matter is a possible being and analyzes Scotus’s arguments that prime matter can exist by divine power all on its own, without any form, or, put another way, that there can be free-floating pow- ers, powers that are not the powers of anything. This is a strange thought, and it is all the stranger given that for Scotus matter as such is not corporeal or extended; these features are due to forms, substantial form and the form of quantity, respectively. Matter as such does not have parts outside of parts, although it is able to have parts (habet partibilitatem).2 Like Scotus, William Ockham holds that potentia is not a rela- tion founded on matter, but is instead matter itself.3 Unlike Scotus, however, Ockham denies that there are distinct quantitative forms, holding that matter de se has parts outside of parts.4 For Ockham then the basic power for undergoing change is identi- fied with a fundamental extended substratum which is determined or shaped by substantial and qualitative forms. Traditional analogues of prime matter, such as bronze or clay, are therefore useful for getting a grip on Ockham’s conception of mat- ter. But for Scotus passive power is essentially independent from and prior to being extended; the traditional metaphors are therefore misleading for understanding Scotus’s theory of matter. Transitioning here to Scotus’s ontology of matter, it will be useful to keep in mind that Scotus’s investigation concerns whether or not a certain kind of power, passive power, can exist and not be the power of any subject. An Ockhamist enquiry into matter’s ontology on the other hand would investigate whether there can be an extended thing that did not have determinate dimensions. i Matter as Subjective Potency

Aristotelians say that prime matter is a being in potency. Aquinas took this to mean that matter was not of itself an actual being; it depends for its actuality

1 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, qq.1–2, n.14 (Bonaventure IV, p.512). 2 Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d.12, q.2, n.7 (Wadding XI, p.322). 3 Ockham, Summula philosophiae naturalis I, c.10, ll.62–63 (OPh VI, p.183), potentia non est relatio fundata in materia, sed est ipsamet materia et non fundatur in ea. 4 Ockham, Summula philosophiae naturalis I, c.13 (OPh VI, pp.191–194).

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2014 | doi 10.1163/9789004278974_004

28 Chapter 2 on form, such that apart from form matter cannot exist, even by divine power.5 Scotus disagrees and argues that in order for matter to do all it is supposed to do, it must be an actual being off its own bat. It is a power, a cause, it persists through change, it is a part of a substance, and so on.6 So Scotus offers a differ- ent take on what it means for matter to be a being in potency. Scotus distinguishes two senses of possible existence, the possible existence of something that can be made, such as Antichrist, and the possibility for an existing subject, such as prime matter, to be perfected by form. He calls the first objective potency and the second subjective potency:

[Objective potency] is [the potentiality] of any substantial or accidental essence to its own existence, and it is founded on that essence whose proper existence it is. For thus the essence of an accident or a whiteness is in potency to its own existence, just as the essence of the soul to be cre- ated is in potency to its existence.7

[Subjective potency] is not [the potentiality] of just any being, since it does not exist except in that which, in addition to its own existence, is able to receive some being from another; and thus when it does not have that, it is in potency to it. For example, a non-white body is in potency to existing not simpliciter but existing as white, which is its existence in a qualified and extrinsic way.8,9

5 Aquinas, Quaestiones disputatae de potentia dei q.3, a.5, ad.5 (Turin, 1953); Summa theologiae Ia, q.45, a.4 (Turin, 1952); Scriptum super sententiis II, d.17, q.1, a.2, corp. (Parma, 1856). These and subsequent references to Aquinas are taken from Opera Omnia, ed. Robert Busa, S.J. Milan: Editoria Elettronica Editel, 1992. Revised edition on the internet, by Enrique Alarcón, http://www.corpusthomisticum.org /iopera.html, 2005. 6 Lectura II, s.12, q.un, n.29 (Vatican XIX, p.79). 7 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, qq.1–2, n.41 (Bonaventure IV, p.524– 525), Prima est cuiuscumque essentiae substantialis vel accidentalis ad proprium esse, et fun- datur in illa essentia cuius est illud proprium esse. Ita enim essentia accidentis vel albedinis est in potentia ad prorium esse suum, sicut essentia animae creandae est in potentia ad suum esse. 8 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, qq.1–2, n.42 (Bonaventure IV, p.525), Secunda non est cuiuslibet entis, quia non est nisi illius quod, praeter esse proprium, natum est recipere aliquod esse ab alio; et ita quando non habet illus, est in potentia ad illud. Verbi gratia, corpus non-album est in potentia ut sit, non simpliciter sed ut sit album, quod est esse eius secundum quid et extrinsecum. Et ista potest dici “subiectiva.” 9 Scotus also distinguishes between objective and subjective potencies in his commentaries on Sentences II, d.12, elaborating the idea that matter is a being in potency by saying that it has subjective instead of objective potency. See Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d.12, q.1, n.11 (Wadding XI, p.317), and Lectura II, d.12, q.un (Vatican xix, p.80).

The Ontology Of Prime Matter 29

In Lectura II, d.12, q.un, Scotus draws the distinction between subjective and objective potency to carve out a way of describing prime matter both as an actual entity and as potential entity.10 The sense in which matter is a potential entity is not that it has objective potency, since objective potency is just the sense of potency in which potency is opposed to act. But subjective potency is not itself opposed to act. Matter’s subjective potency for receiving a form, F, is of course opposed to matter’s actually being informed by F. But matter’s sub- jective potency for receiving F (or any form) is not opposed to matter’s actual existence—in fact, it presupposes it. The two kinds of potency are related in such a way that that to which some- thing has subjective potency is itself in objective potency. For example, if Socrates has subjective potency to become white, then a whiteness has objec- tive potency. But something can be in objective potency without a correlation to something in subjective potency. For example, for Scotus an angel is an immaterial form whose natural condition is to exist without informing mat- ter.11 Therefore before an angel is created it has objective potency and there is nothing which has subjective potency to it. Scotus speculates that an essence having objective potency could be ordered to a subject having subjective potency, even if the latter does not actually exist. Matter has subjective potency to be perfected by substantial form, and Scotus says that even if both matter and substantial form did not exist, matter would still have subjective potency to be perfected by substantial form.12 Ordinarily, however, we are interested in

10 Lectura II, d.12, q.un, nn.30–32 (Vatican XIX, p.80). 11 Scotus, Quodlibet IX, a.2, n.7, in Obras del Doctor Sutil Juan Duns Escoto (edicion biligue): Cuestiones Cuodlibetales, trans. (with Latin edition) by Felix Alluntis (Madrid: Biblioteca de autores cristianos, 1968), pp.344–345. 12 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, qq.1–2, nn.54–57 (Bonaventure IV, pp.529–530); in n.57 Scotus speculates that if both matter and form were in objective potency, matter would have objective and subjective potency, but the objective potency would be actualized prior to the actualization of the subjective potency. Incidentally this resolves a disagreement between Richard Cross and Simona Massobrio over whether or not matter has objective potency. Cross claims, “There is no evidence that Scotus would want to claim that matter exhibits objective potentiality as well as subjective potentiality.” Massobrio claims that matter’s privation with respect to all substantial forms “represents” objective potentiality. According to Scotus, however, matter could have objective potency and simultaneously have subjective potency, even though it (apparently) usually actually exists (and therefore does not have objective potency) and has subjective potency. Privation in matter is not, pace Massobrio, a suitable candidate for representing or being objective potency, because privation is matter’s lack of e.g., some form, F, cum power to become F, whereas objective potency is e.g., F’s lack of existence cum power to exist.

30 Chapter 2 cases in which the subject of subjective potency exists, either as prime or prox- imate matter. The term of a subjective potency is identical with the term of an objective potency. If the essence of Antichrist is in objective potency then (presuming he arrives on the scene as most men do, through biological reproduction) there is some matter in subjective potency to become Antichrist. Matter’s subjective potency is strictly speaking not to form but to the composite of matter and form, the substance which matter together with form can become, or the qual- ified substance which a substance together with accidental form can become.13 ii A Shifting Opinion about Matter’s Separability from Form

In Lectura II, d.12 Scotus is unequivocal: matter and form are res et res.14 This is unsurprising, since in substantial change, as we have seen, matter persists but form does not. Therefore some particular matter is separable from—and therefore really distinct from—some particular form.15 However, Scotus recog- nized that it is one thing to claim that matter can exist without some particular form, and quite another to claim that matter can exist without any form at all. Matter’s persistence through substantial change substantiates the first but not the second claim. Scotus’s mature position on matter’s real distinction from form, which holds both the first and second claims, has been well docu- mented;16 my own contribution here is to document what appear to be devel- opments in Scotus’s views on matter’s separability from form. Scotus thought that matter and form were really distinct throughout his teaching career and also that matter could exist apart from whatever form was

Richard Cross, The Physics of Duns Scotus (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), p.18, n.17, and Simona Massobrio, “Aristotelian Matter as Understood by St. Thomas Aquinas and John Duns Scotus” (unpublished doctoral dissertation, McGill University, 1991), p.205. 13 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, qq.1–2, n.46 (Bonaventure IV, p.526). 14 Lectura II, d.12, q.un, n.49 (Vatican XIX, p.88). 15 Separability implies real distinction, but the biconditional may not hold. Arguably, for Scotus, the three persons of the Trinity are really distinct from each other but are insepa- rable. See Ordinatio I, d.2, p.2, qq.1–4, n.421 (Vatican II, p.366), and Richard Cross, Duns Scotus on God (Burlington, vt: Ashgate, 2005), pp.153–155. 16 Etienne Gilson, Jean Duns Scot: Introduction a ses Positions Fondamentales (Paris: J. Vrin, 1952), pp.432–444; Marilyn McCord Adams, William Ockham v.2 (South Bend, in: University of Notre Dame Press, 1987), pp.633–647; Simona Massobrio, “Aristotelian Matter as Understood by St. Thomas Aquinas and John Duns Scotus,” pp.241–244; Richard Cross, The Physics of Duns Scotus, pp.13–33.

The Ontology Of Prime Matter 31 informing it at some time.17 But we do find a difference in views presented in Scotus’s various texts on the issue of whether matter could exist without being informed at all. The Vatican editions of Ordinatio II and Lectura II, d.12 suggest that Scotus did not always think that God could conserve matter denuded of form, since in these texts Scotus simply doesn’t discuss the issue (where it would be natural to do so). Luke Wadding had printed a second question in his edition of Ordinatio II d.12, under the heading, “Whether through some power matter can exist without form?” in which Scotus argues that matter can be conserved without any form,18 but the Vatican edition leaves out from its Ordinatio not only this second question but all of d.12—the text skips from d.11 to d.13. The editors claim that in those manuscripts and editions in which Ordinatio II is printed with d.12, the questions contained therein are taken either from “other works of Scotus” or from Alnwick’s Additiones Magnae II.19 At the end of Ordinatio II, d.11, the Vatican editors refer the reader to Reportatio II-A d.12—known to be among Scotus’s latest works—for questions on Book II, d.12. I will examine this text later on.20 While Lectura and Ordinatio appear to be silent on the issue of matter’s sep- arability, another early work, Quaestiones super Praedicamenta Aristotelis, indi- cates that Scotus at one point denied that matter was totally separable from form. In q.15, which asks whether the parts of substance (namely, matter and form) are substances, Scotus presents an argument for the view that they are, which he goes on to reject. The argument that Scotus rejects is this:

What is divided is predicated of the things resulting from the division; from II [412a 7–9]: ‘Substance is divided into matter and form and the composite.’ Therefore any one of these is substance.21

17 Lectura II, d.12, q.un, nn.52–81 (Vatican XIX, pp.89–101); Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d.12, q.1, nn.19–24 (Wadding XI, pp.319–320); Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.5 (Bonaventure IV, pp.131–139). 18 Wadding VI, pp.680–698. 19 Vatican VIII, p.224. 20 Vatican VIII, p.225, note 17*. Reportatio Parisiensis II-A is the current designation of what Wadding printed as Reportata Parisiensia II (Wadding XI). A second Paris Report on Book II, known as II-B, is unedited. Cf. Thomas Williams, “Introduction: The and Works of John Duns the Scot,” in The Cambridge Companion to Duns Scotus, p.11. Given the uncertainty sur- rounding Wadding’s edition of Ordinatio II, d.12, I have focused on the Lectura II and Reportatio Parisiensis II-A versions instead, along with the philosophical commentaries where helpful. 21 Quaestiones super Praedicamenta Aristotelis q.15, n.7 (Bonaventure I, pp.384–385), Item, divisum praedicatur de divientibus; II De anima: “substantia dividitur in materiam et for- mam et compositum”; igitur quodlibet istorum est substantia.

32 Chapter 2

Scotus’s refutation begins by noting that what is divided is predicated of the things resulting from the division only when the division is one of genus into its several species. But Scotus denies that the sort of division Aristotle has in mind in the text quoted from De anima is a division of genus into species, and his reason is fascinating in light of his later views about matter:

I say that that division of substance is not a division of genus into species, because then matter would have a difference distinguishing it from form, and it would be a being in act of itself, distinct from form, which is not true.22

Scotus has in mind here the traditional Aristotelian taxonomy according to which a species is distinct from other species of the same genus in virtue of a unique difference. For example, humanity is animality with the difference of rationality. If matter is a species of substance then whatever is true of sub- stance is true of matter. But a substance in its primary sense is a being per se, so if the matter and form of a substance are substances, then they too are beings per se. And this is precisely what Scotus thinks is not true of matter. A text from QMet also indicates that Scotus at one time did not think that matter could exist without form. Scotus devotes a full question to whether or not matter is a being (QMet VII, q.5), but gives no indication one way or another about its separability from form. But in QMet VII, q.6, Scotus seems to be explicitly against the view that matter can exist on its own. He writes,

But that nature of substance is to exist per se separably from others, not depending on others. But this does not pertain to matter except through form.23

The meaning of this text is not transparent but one possible reading is that only through form does matter exist per se and separably from others, and therefore matter cannot exist apart from an inhering form. The meaning is not transparent because it is not immediately clear how matter, per formam, can exist per se separably from others. Scotus could have in mind here a seman- tic distinction of which he elsewhere makes use, the distinction between

22 Quaestiones super Praedicamenta Aristotelis q.15, n.15 (Bonaventure I, p.387), Ad illud de II De anima, dico quod illa divisio substantiae non est divisio generis in species, quia tunc materia haberet differentiam distinguentem ipsam a forma, et esset ens actu de se dis- tinctum a forma, quod non est verum. 23 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.6, n.16 (Bonaventure IV, p.144), Sed illa ratio substantiae est “per se existere separabiliter, ab aliis non dependens ab aliis.” Sed istud non convenit materiae nisi per formam.

The Ontology Of Prime Matter 33 denominative and essential predication.24 Essential predication predicates some essential feature of a subject, whereas denominative does not. “Matter is a substance” is false essentially, since matter does not exist per se separably from others; but it can be true denominatively, for example when matter is a part of a material substance. Denominative predication permits predicating of a part of a substance a feature of a whole substance. “The musical man builds a house” predicates housebuilding denominatively of the musical man and not essentially, since per se a musical man is not a builder, but together with the skill of building he is nevertheless a builder. Likewise “matter exists per se sepa- rably from others” predicates per se separable existence denominatively of matter and not essentially, since only when informed by substantial form and made thereby a part of a composite does matter exist per se separably from others. This distinction provides a way of understanding what Scotus could mean when he says that matter through form exists per se separably from others. But it reinforces the reading of the passage according to which Scotus thought that matter could not exist apart from form. This QMet text taken with Quaestiones super Praedicamenta Aristotelis q.15, n.7 establish, I take it, that at some point in his career, to the extent that Scotus had a view about whether or not matter is separable from form, it was that it is not. But at which point? And for how long? Quaestiones super Praedicamenta Aristotelis is regarded as a very early work, but the editors of the critical edition of QMet have argued that QMet V–IX actually belong to a quite late period of Scotus’s career.25 There is a complication, however: QMet does not yield a consistent doctrine of matter. Whereas QMet VII, q.5 is indeterminate about the precise nature of matter’s separability from form, and QMet VII, q.6 seems to argue against matter’s separability, there is at least one text elsewhere in QMet, namely, VIII, q.4, nn.30–31, in which Scotus asserts, without argument,

24 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.5, nn.21–22 (Bonaventure IV, pp.136–137). In this text Scotus actually distinguishes two kinds of denominative predica- tion, accidental denominative predication and another kind of denominative predica- tion, where the distinction is based on what kind of part the subject of the denominative predication is. Matter is an essential part of a substance and unites with substantial form in an essential unity, whereas a categorical accident is not and does not. 25 Bonaventure III, p.xliii; see also Stephen Dumont, “The Question on Individuation in Scotus’ Quaestiones super Metaphysicam,” in Via Scoti: Methodologia ad mentem Ioannis Duns Scoti, vol. I, ed. Leonardo Sileo (Rome: Edizioni Antonianum, 1995), pp.193–227; and Timothy Noone, “Scotus’ Critique of the Thomistic Theory of Individuation and the Dating of the Quaestiones in libros Metaphysicorum VII, q.13,” in Via Scoti: Methodologia ad mentem Ioannis Duns Scoti, vol. I, ed. Leonardo Sileo (Rome: Edizioni Antonianum, 1995), pp.391–406.

34 Chapter 2 that matter can exist without any form at all.26 This inconsistency suggests to me that the composition of books V–IX of QMet was a stop-and-go affair; it is more than odd that Scotus would deliver a negative opinion on matter’s sepa- rability in VII, q.6, and then simply assert the contrary in VIII, q.4, if these books had been written as a single sustained work of philosophy. The inconsis- tency seems less odd, however, on the supposition that Scotus composed Reportatio II-A d.12, q.3—the text in which he argues at length for matter’s total separability—after writing QMet VII, q.6 but before writing QMet VIII, q.4. Whether this conjecture can ultimately be sustained or not, the doctrine of matter assumed in at least one question of QMet and argued for in Reportatio II-A d.12, q.2 clearly represents a dramatic departure from Scotus’s early views about the nature of matter. iii Particular and Total Separability

Scotus undoubtedly thought later in his career that matter could exist without being informed. The texts for this view are Reportatio II-A, d.12, q.2 and what is printed as Ordinatio II, d.12, q.2 in Wadding VI. Here I focus exclusively on the first, given the dubious status of the second. Scotus gives four arguments for the conclusion that “matter can exist without every form.”27 It is useful up front to distinguish more precisely two independent theses about matter’s separa- bility from form, what I will call for ease of reference particular separability and total separability:

[Particular separability] For any individual matter x and for any indi- vidual form y, it is possible that x exists without being informed by y.

[Total separability] For any individual matter x it is possible that x exist and there is not a form y such that y informs x.28

26 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, q.4, nn.30–31 (Bonaventure IV, p.498). I discuss this text in Chapters 3 and 4. 27 Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d.12, q.2, n.4 (Wadding XI, p.321), materia potest esse sine omni forma. 28 Particular and total separability are logically equivalent to Cross’s (6*) and (6**), respec- tively, presented on p.23 of The Physics of Duns Scotus. (6*) says, “For every individual matter m and every individual form f, it is possible that m exists without f. ” (6**) says, “For every individual matter m, it is possible that, for every individual form f, m exists without f.” Total separability and (6**) are equivalent since ~∃xφ is equivalent to ∀x~φ by quanti- fier negation. Expressed formally, where “Mn” abbreviates “n is an individual matter,”

The Ontology Of Prime Matter 35

Scotus’s expression of his view that matter can exist without every form (omni forma) is ambiguous between particular and total separability. Of the four arguments Scotus presents, the first would, if sound, establish only particular separability, while the last three would establish total separability. The first argument, [C], runs as follows:

[C1] For any absolute (i.e., non-relational) thing, x, and for any absolute (i.e., non-relational) thing, y, if x is prior to y, then x can without contradiction exist without y. [C2] Matter and form are absolute things. [C3] In a relevant sense matter is prior to form. [C4] Therefore, matter can without contradiction exist without form.29

[C] is a valid argument for particular, but not total, separability. [C2] is uncon- troversial. As for [C3], there is a sense in which form is prior to matter—accord- ing to Scotus form is prior to matter in the essential order of eminence or perfection. But the relevant sense of priority in [C3] is an essential order of dependence. In De Primo Principio II.32, Scotus says, “As for one being inde- pendent of the other, it would seem that matter is prior, for the contingent and informing cause seems to depend upon the permanent and informed, since we think of what can be formed before we think of its form.”30 But [C1] is more controversial. We can assume that the sense of priority intended in [C1] is exactly the same as that intended in [C3]—otherwise the argument would be invalid. So the sense of priority intended in [C1] is an essential order of depen- dence. Scotus distinguishes several kinds of essential orders of dependence

“Fn” abbreviates “n is an individual form,” and “Rnm” abbreviates “n informs m,” particular separability says ∀x(Mx→(∀y♢~(Fy∧Ryx))). On the same scheme of abbreviation, total separability says ∀x(Mx→(♢~∃y(Fy∧Ryx))). 29 Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d.12, q.2, n.4 (Wadding XI, p.321), Ideo dico quod compositum generabile per se habet duas partes realiter diversas, et materia potest esse sine omni forma. Quod probo. Primo sic; quia absolutum prius absoluto alio, potest sine contradic- tione esse sine illo; materia est absolutum aliud a forma, et prius; igitur sine contradic- tione potest esse sine illa. “So I say that the generable composite as such has two really distinct parts, and matter can exist without every form. Which I prove, first, in this way. An absolute thing [which is] prior to another absolute thing can without contradiction exist without that other. Matter is an absolute thing other than form, and it is prior [to form]. Therefore, without contradiction [matter] can exist without [form].” 30 De Primo Principio II.32 (Wolter, p.26), Videtur tamen materia prior secundum indepen- dentiam, quia contingens et informans videtur dependere a permanente et informato, quia informanti praeintelligitur formabile. (Wolter’s translation.).

36 Chapter 2 and, in De Primo Principio I.8, says that in at least some—and perhaps all31— that which is essentially prior cannot exist without that which is essentially posterior to it.32 This does not on the surface look consistent with [C1]. But [C1] does not say that the prior can exist without the posterior; instead it says that the prior can without contradiction exist without the posterior. The suggestion, then, is that it could turn out to be fully consistent that x cannot exist without y and that x can without contradiction exist without y. The suggestion may not at first glance have the sparkle of cogency, but the fact that Scotus thinks this is so is perfectly corroborated by another line from De Primo Principio, taken from the same paragraph from which the citation above was taken. Here Scotus says that, while the prior produces the posterior necessarily and consequently could not exist without it, nevertheless, on the assumption that the posterior does not exist, the prior will be, without the inclusion of a contradiction (prius erit sine inclusione contradictionis). The phrase, Without the inclusion of a con­ tradiction, suggests that the relevant modality here is logical possibility: it is logically possible that the prior exist without the posterior. But when Scotus also says, in the very same paragraph, that the prior cannot exist without the posterior, he must be thinking of something other than logical impossibility— otherwise the text is gibberish. I hope it is not gibberish, but it is indisputably hard to understand, and a fully satisfactory treatment of it would involve delv- ing very deep into the mines of Scotus’s modal theory. Here we can say (evad- ing the really hard work), operating on the principle of charity, that in argument [C] the sense of possibility used in the premises is exactly the same as in the conclusion, so [C] shows that it is at least logically possible for matter to exist separate from form. This argument only establishes particular separability, however—the argument would still hold if it turned out that matter could per- sist through a succession of substantial forms but always needed to be substan- tially informed.33

31 I say, “perhaps all,” because the text, quoted below, is vague about this. 32 De Primo Principio I.8 (Wolter, pp.4,5), [L]icet prius necessario causet posterius et ideo sine ipso esse non possit, hoc tamen non est quia ad esse suum egeat posteriori, sed e converso; quia si ponatur posterius non esse, nihilominus prius erit sine inclusione con- tradictionis. “Although the prior necessarily were to produce the posterior and so could not exist without it, nevertheless this is not because it requires the posterior for its exis- tence, but the converse. For if the posterior be posited not to exist, still the prior will exist without the inclusion of a contradiction.” (My translation. Wolter’s makes for nicer read- ing but it does not draw out the parallel between this text and Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d.12, q.2, n.4. on which I am here relying.). 33 Richard Cross, The Physics of Duns Scotus, pp.24–25.

The Ontology Of Prime Matter 37

The second, third, and fourth arguments aim to establish total separability. We will examine the second and third.34 Here is the second argument, [D]:

[D1] For any x, if God creates x and there is some y such that y is not part of the essence of x and y is ordinarily a secondary cause of x, then it is possible that God creates x without the secondary causality of y. [D2] God creates matter, and form is not part of the essence of matter, and form is ordinarily a secondary cause of matter. [D3] Therefore it is possible that God creates matter without the sec- ondary causality of form, that is, it is possible that God creates mat- ter informed by no form at all.35

[D] is also a valid argument and it is an argument for total separability. Whatever the secondary causality of form over matter amounts to, it involves form’s informing matter; so to show that God can create matter without form’s secondary causality is to show that God can create matter without any form at all. The three conjuncts of [D2] are uncontroversial within Scotus’s milieu. [D1] says that God can do all by himself whatever he normally does in coopera- tion with something else, and this too is uncontroversial. But one might object that [D2] is incompatible with [C3], since if ordinarily form causes matter (according to [D2]) and is therefore prior to matter, and if ordinarily matter is prior to form (according to [C3]), then Scotus seems to commit himself to a vicious circle of priority relations. Fortunately for Scotus, the senses of priority here are different. Matter is prior to form, Scotus tells us, in the sense that it is the subject in which form comes to be and without which form would not (naturally) come to be. Form cannot be a (secondary) efficient cause of matter, and so not in this way prior to matter, since (a) efficient causing is the action of an agent by which matter and form are united, so form cannot be an efficient

34 See Richard Cross, The Physics of Duns Scotus, pp.23–24 for an excellent critique of Scotus’s fourth argument, which I find persuasive. Cross’s insight is that Scotus’s argu- ment relies on an invalid inference of total separability from particular separability. 35 Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d.12, q.2, n.5 (Wadding XI, p.322), Secunda ratio ad idem, quidquid Deus creat respectu absoluti per causam secundam, quae non est essentia rei, potest Deus immediate sine causa secunda causare; sed esse in materia causat per for- mam, et ipsa non est de essentia materiae; igitur potest esse causare in materia immedi- ate sine forma. “The second reason for the same concusion: regarding absolute things, whatever God creates through a secondary cause, which is not of the essence of a thing, God can cause immediately without a secondary cause. But God causes existence in mat- ter through form, and form is not of the essence of matter; therefore God can cause exis- tence in matter immediately without form.”

38 Chapter 2 cause, and (b) Scotus thinks that matter exists prior to its receiving form. But form is prior to matter in the sense that matter depends on form for its being the matter of some kind of composite substance. So while form does not explain matter’s existence, it does explain matter’s being such. Therefore mat- ter’s priority to form and form’s priority to matter are two sorts of priority, and therefore Scotus is committed to no vicious circle of priority between form and matter. The third argument, [E], is as follows.

[E1] For any x, if God immediately creates x then God can immediately conserve x. [E2] God immediately creates matter. [E3] So God can immediately conserve matter.36

Given a proper understanding of “immediate creation,” [E] is a valid argument for total separability. The efficient causality of every natural agent presupposes matter, as we saw in Chapter 1. But this entails that no natural agent can effi- ciently cause matter. The creation of matter “is not under the power of created nature, because created nature can produce nothing except by having presup- posed something.”37 And, of course, Scotus thinks that matter is a created thing; it is not co-eternal with God. So it is something produced and only God can produce it. But if God creates matter all by himself, Scotus reasons, there is no good reason to think that he cannot continue to conserve matter all by him- self, where conservation is the activity by which something continues to exist once it has been created. Arguments [D] and [E] together entail that God could produce matter without producing form, and conserve that matter on its own. Richard Cross has analyzed Scotus’s arguments for total separability and has found them wanting.38 He rejects Scotus’s fourth argument since it involves an

36 Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d.12, q.2, n.6 (Wadding XI, p.322), Tertia ratio ad idem, quod Deus immediate creat, immediate potest conservare; sed materiam immediate creat, quia materia est quid creatum: non enim est ens omnino increatum, et non est subest virtuti naturae creatae, quia nihil potest natura creata producere, nisi aliquo praesupposito; igi- tur Deus potest immediate materiam conservare sine entitate alia absoluta. “The third argument for the same conclusion: that which God immediately creates, he is able imme- diately to conserve. But he immediately creates matter, because matter is a created thing; for it is not a totally uncreated being, and it is not under the power of created nature, because created nature can produce nothing except by having presupposed something. Therefore God can immediately conserve matter without another absolute entity.” 37 Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d.12, q.2, n.6 (Wadding XI, p.322). 38 Richard Cross, The Physics of Duns Scotus, p.26.

The Ontology Of Prime Matter 39 invalid inference from particular to total separability. He notes that the first argument only establishes particular separability. But he also rejects the sec- ond and third arguments, which rely on assumptions about God’s power (in particular, that God can create on his own whatever he can bring about through secondary causes, and that God can conserve whatever he can create), about creaturely power (in particular, that no created agent can produce matter), and about the nature of matter (in particular that its essence does not include form), to argue that God can create and conserve matter without form, and therefore that matter and form are totally separable. Cross writes of the third argument,

The argument is deceptively appealing. It is clearly the case that individ- ual matter cannot be produced by any created agent at all; this is why the claim that God creates individual matter directly looks convincing. But it overlooks the possibility that the existence of form might be (as Aquinas would reason) a necessary condition for the existence of individual mat- ter, even if form does not itself have any efficiently causal role in the pro- duction of individual matter. In this case, it would be false to claim that God creates individual matter ‘directly.’39

For Aquinas, matter is not a per se term of creation;40 strictly speaking it is concreated with form as a part of a composite substance,41 and it has actuality insofar as it is under form.42 Aquinas could accept that matter and form, to the extent that they can be defined, have distinct , and he could accept that God can bring about on his own whatever he brings about through secondary causes, and still deny that matter is totally separable from form. But this is because Aquinas denies that matter is an actual thing really distinct from form. It is no wonder, therefore, that Aquinas would object to Scotus’s second and third arguments for total separability, which presuppose Scotus’s earlier arguments that matter and form are really distinct things. Cross’s objec- tion to Scotus therefore seems just a tad unfair, insofar as it does not take into account Scotus’s and Aquinas’s broader of matter and how these relate to the arguments for total separability. A more fundamental dispute

39 Richard Cross, The Physics of Duns Scotus, pp.25–26. Cross does not discuss the second argument, but his conclusion about Scotus on the separability of matter from form is clearly intended to apply to Scotus’s whole effort to establish total separability. 40 Aquinas, Quaestiones disputatae de potentia dei q.3, a.5, ad.5 (Turin, 1953). 41 Aquinas, Summa theologiae Ia, q.45, a.4 (Turin, 1952). 42 Aquinas, Quaestiones disputatae de potentia dei q.3, a.5, ad.3 (Turin, 1953).

40 Chapter 2 about matter between Aquinas and Scotus concerns Scotus’s claim that there is a sense in which matter is both potency and act: it is an actual being whose nature it is to be in subjective potency to be perfected by any form, whereas for Aquinas matter is pure potency whose actuality is derived entirely from form.43 I conclude then that given Scotus’s understanding of the nature of matter and God’s omnipotence, the second and third arguments for the total separa- bility of matter from form are successful. To sum up: I have argued, first, that matter is an entity whose nature is to be passive power. Second, Scotus uses the distinction between objective and sub- jective potency to describe the way in which matter can be in potency to receive any form, and yet have an actuality of its own, prior to and indepen- dent of form. Third, because matter is in act it can persist through substantial change, and, fourth, because its nature is passive power in subjective potency to any form, it is the sort of persisting thing required for substantial change. I have argued that all four of these conclusions about the nature of matter were in place in Scotus’s philosophy of matter before he penned his arguments for total separability, and even that Scotus advanced these conclusions while he still denied total separability. As we will see in Chapters 3 and 4, however, the total separability of matter from form furnishes Scotus with a crucial premise in the argument that a substance is really distinct from matter and form.

43 Aquinas, Scriptum super sententiis II, d.17, q.1, a.2, corp. (Parma, 1856).

Chapter 3 How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part I

Like most hylomorphists, Scotus thinks that matter and form—e.g., Mole’s body and his sensitive soul—are parts of a substance. But he also recognizes what we would think of as ordinary parts, or spatially extended parts, things like Mole’s heart, ears, and paws. He calls the former the essential parts, and the latter the integral parts, of a substance. This chapter and the next focus on essential parts, and Chapters 5 and 6 focus on integral parts.1 In this chapter and the next I explore what it means for matter and form to compose a substance. I have two aims. First, I show that for Scotus, matter and form compose a substance by causing a substance. I examine Scotus’s reasons for thinking this and I explain what this means. Second, I show that for Scotus, the parthood relations of matter and form to substance just are causal rela­ tions—causal relations of a peculiar sort. Scotus’s basic idea is that the parts of a substance are united in some special way in which the parts of other kinds of wholes are not, and that this special unity demands that a substance be really distinct from its material part, its formal part, and from both of these taken together. Each of matter and form can exist on its own (if only by divine power), and thus satisfy the existence conditions of an aggregate—a whole that is identical with its parts—but not compose a substance.2 So, Scotus asks, what happens when matter and form do compose a substance? Parthood is a relation, and Scotus thinks that in general (with important exceptions discussed below) changes in relative properties must be explained by changes in absolute (non-relative) properties.3 So for a

1 For a careful yet entertaining introduction to these senses of part in medieval philosophy, see Calvin Normore, “Ockham’s Metaphysics of Parts,” The Journal of Philosophy 103:12 (2006), pp.737–754. Unless otherwise specified, in this chapter by part I mean essential part. 2 In this chapter by form I mean substantial form unless otherwise noted. As Scotus discusses the unity of matter and form, he seems to mean by matter, prime matter. 3 For Scotus, a relative property or relation is an accident whose nature is to be ad aliquid, toward something. An absolute entity is anything falling under the categories Substance, Quality, and Quantity, and prime matter (and God). Fregean logic gives us polyadic proper- ties whose logical form suggests that one polyadic property belongs to two (or more) sub- jects at once: for example, the property R referred to in the formula Rab is a property of or between a and b. Scotus and the medievals thought of relations quite differently. With some

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42 Chapter 3 thing to become a part—to acquire a parthood relation—some absolute change must occur. He argues that the only absolute change that can explain how matter and form acquire parthood relations is the production of a new entity, and goes on to argue that this new entity is and can only be a substance. Developing the Aristotelian idea that matter and form exercise certain kinds of causality, Scotus argues that matter and form are the causes that bring about the substance of which they (once the substance is brought about) are parts. Finally, Scotus asserts that what it is for matter and form to be related to a sub- stance as essential parts just is to be causally related to a substance—in slogan form, parthood relations are causal relations. The arguments for this view are scattered through several texts, including QMet VIII, q.4, Ordinatio III, d.2, q.2, Lectura III, d.2, q.2, and Reportatio III-A d.2, q.1. Philosophically these are consistent with one another. The three ques- tions from the Sentences commentaries have a very similar argumentative structure, which Richard Cross has admirably analyzed.4 But the QMet ques- tion is structured rather differently. Overall it is less organized but philosophi- cally richer than its counterparts in the Sentences commentaries. Taking these texts together, but letting the QMet VIII, q.4 account set the dialectical agenda, I present what I take to be the most interesting reasons for thinking that matter and form compose a substance only when they cause a substance that is really distinct from them, and that the parthood of matter and form simply consists in the causality of matter and form.5 Readers of Scotus on this topic have the benefit of Ockham’s criticisms of Scotus’s views. I have found it helpful for

exceptions, a real relation inheres in a subject and is toward its term. In cases of mutual real relations, for example similarity relations between two substances, there is one similarity relation in one substance, and another in the other substance. For further background on medieval theories of relations, see my “Relations without Forms: Some Consequences of Aquinas’s Metaphysics of Relation,” Vivarium 48:3–4 (2010), pp.279–301, and especially Mark Henninger, Relations: Medieval Theories 1250–1325 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989). 4 Richard Cross, “Duns Scotus’s Anti-Reductionistic Account of Material Substance,” Vivarium 33:2 (1995), pp.137–170. Cross briefly discusses Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, q.4 in an appendix, in which his purpose is to establish the consistency of the Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis account with that of Ordinatio, against the opinion of Mauritius de Portu (Wadding IV, p.757). For comparison of Scotus and Ockham on the sense in which matter and form compose a substance, see Richard Cross, “Ockham on Part and Whole,” Vivarium 37:2 (1999), pp.143–167. 5 Scotus thinks that most material substances actually have more than one substantial form. In this chapter I will write as though one substantial form is all it takes to make a complete substance, but this should be understood merely as shorthand, to be enriched by the subse- quent discussion of Scotus’s pluralism about substantial forms in the following chapters.

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part I 43 understanding Scotus to draw heavily on Ockham’s criticisms, and my account of Scotus here reflects that engagement with Ockham. Scotus simply takes it for granted that matter and form are parts, but it is not obvious that a hylomorphist should think of both matter and form as parts. To make straight the way of the Subtle Doctor, therefore, I start by motivating and then presenting an argument for the conclusion that forms are not parts at all, showing how Scotus would respond to it. Then I will present two ways in which it makes sense to think of matter and form as essential parts of a substance. i Forms as Parts

One way of getting a handle on the sense in which matter and form are parts of a substance is, first, to have some sense of the reasons why one might be inclined to distinguish form and matter in the first place. In addition to the argument from change analyzed in Chapter 1, there is the heuristically more useful idea that a hylomorphist draws the distinction between form and mat- ter whenever there is good reason to distinguish between a thing and what a thing is made of.6 When the brazen sphere becomes a brazen cube, for exam- ple, bronze persists but sphericity does not. The sphere is therefore not identi- cal with its bronze. A hylomorphist explains the distinction between the sphere and what it is made of by positing that the sphere has something in addition to its bronze. The hylomorphist calls what a sphere is made of its mat- ter, and the something extra the sphere’s form. Similar (but more complicated) reflections yield a division of form and matter for organisms. When Mole dies his body remains as a corpse, so Mole is not identical with his body; the body is Mole’s matter, his sensitive soul his substantial form.7 The matter and form of a substance are its essential parts. Essential parts were contrasted with what were called integral parts, which are, roughly, extended parts.8 The integral parts of Mole are his organs, blood,

6 As I will argue in Chapter 9, however, this second way of motivating hylomorphism is reduc- ible to the argument from change. 7 By the Aristotelians’ lights, Scotus’s included, a brazen sphere or cube is not a genuine sub- stance, since the forms of sphere or cube are not substantial forms; they are accidental modi- fications of the bronze. I use the example, as Aristotle and many of his commentators use it, merely heuristically. The application of this hylomorphic analysis to paradigmatic Aristotelian substances, viz., living organisms, is much more complicated than this para- graph suggests. I consider these complications in detail in Chapters 5 and 6. 8 The origin of the distinction is probably from Aristotle, Metaphysics VII 1034b 34–36 (Barnes II, p.1634) where the Philosopher contrasts quantitative with substantial parts.

44 Chapter 3 limbs, nerves, and so on. His essential parts are, on the part of matter, the body, and, on the part of form, soul, the something extra in virtue of which the body is living. In Aristotelian terminology, the form of Mole is that which actualizes the potentiality of the things that can be mole parts,9 specifically their potentiality to compose a mole. So form is one answer to the question—the Special Composition Question, as Peter Van Inwagen puts it—about how things become parts, or how things compose.10 But it can quickly be shown that, for Scotus, form cannot be the only answer to the question. He assumes that form itself is a part. If it becomes a part by (together with matter) being actualized by an additional form, then we must ask how this second form becomes a part. Applying the same answer will generate an infinite regress, so we should deny in general that forms become parts through additional forms. If not an additional form, then, in virtue of what do form and matter com- pose a material substance? One could evade the question altogether simply by denying that forms are parts—what is not a part does not compose, in the sense of compose intended in the above question. Mark Johnston does just this in his recent version of hylomorphism. Johnston uses an argument very similar to the one just given to conclude that a form is not a part of the thing whose form it is:

Of any item that has parts we may inquire as to what principle unifies those parts into the whole that is the complex item. The principle had better not be merely another part, for the question would remain: Consider that part along with the other parts; what relation is such that its holding of all these parts gives us the whole? And that would be the principle we seek.11

Notice, however, that Johnston’s argument only has teeth on the assumption that form must be invoked whenever we attribute unity to two or more things, and hence that only form can explain how things become parts of another thing. For Johnston the assumption makes sense because his forms just are

9 I am using the cumbersome expression “things that can be mole parts” rather than “mole parts” to make it clear that, despite ordinary usage, in which we would say that a detached paw is still a mole part, strictly speaking something is a part only if it is part of a whole, and a detached paw is not a part of a whole mole (even if it is still a paw, as Scotus thinks, as I argue in Chapters 5 and 6). 10 Peter Van Inwagen, Material Beings (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1990), p.21. 11 Mark Johnston, “Hylomorphism,” Journal of Philosophy 103:12 (2006), p.652.

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part I 45 unifying principles. But Scotus recognizes several different kinds of unity, and thinks that what it takes for two or more things to be unified is relative to a kind of unity.12 Moreover Scotus thinks that two or more things are parts of the same thing just insofar as they are unified in the relevant sense. As I argue below, all it takes for things to be parts of what Scotus calls an aggregate is that they exist.13 To be parts of what Scotus calls a unity of order, two or more things must have essential dependence relations. (Essential dependence is a techni- cal notion for Scotus, which I elaborate in detail in Chapter 5, but for now all we need to know is that if y essentially depends on x, then y cannot exist if x does not exist.) And, to foreshadow the claims of later chapters, to be parts of an organism, organs must be unified in two senses: they must be both essen- tially ordered and informed by a soul: essential order explains how organs compose one body and soul explains how a body is one living body. Thus Scotus recognizes several senses of unity according to which the things so unified are not unified by form, and hence several ways in which things can become parts without being unified by a form. So, while form and matter cannot be unified through an additional form, on pain of infinite regress, they may be able to be unified, and so be parts, in some other way. And, of course, Scotus thinks there is some other way: matter and form become parts of a substance by being caus- ally related to a substance. Here it is worth forestalling a likely objection to my account thus far, namely that Scotus actually makes the very mistake that Johnston avoided making: the mistake of trying to make forms do the job of uniting matter and form. In the Sentences commentaries Scotus calls the composite of matter and form the “form of the whole” (forma totius).14 On the surface it is natural to think of the forma totius as a kind of super-form, the form whose “matter” is a substan- tial form and prime matter. And this indeed would fall prey to Johnston’s infi- nite regress objection—don’t we need an additional forma totius uniting the first forma totius with its matter and substantial form? For Scotus, the answer is non, because the forma totius is not a form at all. The expression forma totius has a history, having been used by Aquinas and , apparently as a gloss on one way in which Aristotle talks about form.

12 Ordinatio I, d.2, p.2, qq.1–4, n.403 (Vatican II, pp.356–357). 13 Lectura III, d.2, q.2, n.80 (Vatican XX, pp.102–103). 14 Ordinatio III, d.2, q.2 (Vatican IX, pp.139–160); Lectura III, d.2, q.2 (Vatican XX, pp.92–110). This expression is used just once in the Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis account of the unity of matter and substantial form, but it is used to express a view which Scotus himself rejects. Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, q.4, n.17 (Bonaventure IV, p.495).

46 Chapter 3

Aristotle at times equates form with essence, and says that the essences of material things include matter.15 But Aristotle also talks about form as that which together with matter composes the essence of a material thing.16 So we have one use of form which simply means essence, and another use which means part of an essence. Since Aristotle says that the essence of material things includes matter, form in the sense of essence includes, as one of its parts, form in the sense of part of an essence. Readers of Aristotle were then as now confronted with the challenge of explaining the confusing use of terms. Form as used of the essence of a thing came to be called forma totius, while form as used of that which unites with matter to compose a substance came to be called forma partis or, more commonly, simply the substantial form. One’s view about what Aristotle meant by identifying essence with form determined how one thought about the relation between forma totius and forma partis. For example, Averroës interpreted Aristotle as holding that matter was no part of the essence of a material substance. The essence instead is form alone. Averroës seems to have held that the form of the whole is identical with the forma partis or substantial form, and given his understanding of essence this is not surpris- ing. As Aquinas presents him, Averroës thought that the expressions forma totius and forma partis denote the same thing, a substantial form. But they have different senses: the forma totius is the substantial form considered as that by which a whole composite falls under a species, e.g., humanity, whereas the expression forma partis bears the sense of the substantial form considered as that which perfects matter and makes it something actual, e.g., the soul. According to Aquinas’s Avicenna, on the other hand, matter is included in the essence of a material substance. Accordingly, the relation between forma totius and forma partis is not identity but is instead that of whole to part; forma partis is the substantial form, and forma totius is the whole composite resulting from the union of substantial form and matter.17 Aquinas himself seems to have waffled between Averroës’s and Avicenna’s views, sometimes identifying forma totius with the substantial form,18 and sometimes not.19 Ockham does not use the term to express his own view.

15 Aristotle, Metaphysics V 1013a 26 (Barnes II, p.1600); Metaphysics VI 1025b 28–32 (Barnes II, p.1620). 16 Aristotle, Metaphysics VII 1035a 32–34 (Barnes II, p.1635). 17 Aquinas, Sententia metaphysicae VII, l.9, n.8 (Turin, 1950). 18 Aquinas, Summa theologiae Ia, q.76, a.8, corp. (Turin, 1952); II, c.72, n.3 (Turin, 1961). 19 Aquinas, De ente et essentia, c.I, n.2 and c.II, n.5 (Turin, 1957).

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part I 47

Scotus is firmly on the Avicennan side in this respect: he includes matter in the essence of a composite thing.20 Moreover, since Scotus thinks that matter is really distinct from form, having its own actuality, he cannot hold that sub- stantial form makes matter actual.21 For Scotus, then, forma totius is simply the whole substance itself composed of matter and form—it is not a form at all. Thus, we need not worry that Scotus has made the mistake of using forms to unite form and matter. In this chapter I plan to avoid the medieval confusion about the term form by using expressions like “the whole substance” and “the substance itself” instead of “form of the whole.” This seems especially jus- tified given the way in which Scotus distances himself from the expression in QMet VIII, q.4. ii Matter and Form as Essential Parts

There are at least two prima facie plausible ways of understanding how essen­ tial is modifying parts in the expression essential parts. The first treats essential as a certain sense of necessary. This view is suggested by Scotus’s claim that a material substance essentially depends for its existence on the causality of mat- ter and form, where essential dependence entails that it is not possible for the substance to exist without the causality of matter and form.22 So we might think of essential parts as the sort of parts that are necessary for the existence of the whole they compose. But this is not quite right. While it is true that matter and form are necessary for the existence of a material substance, there are other parts of substances that are not called essential parts but are, nevertheless, necessary for the existence of the substance they compose (e.g., the blood, heart, brain, etc., of a human). A better understanding of essential parthood is what we might call a defini­ tional understanding. On this understanding, essential parts are parts of the essence, where the parts of the essence in some sense correspond to the parts of a real definition.23 Aristotle says, with Scotus’s endorsement, that the parts

20 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.16 (Bonaventure IV, pp.311–326). 21 Lectura II, d.12, q.un (Vatican XIX, pp.69–101); Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.5 (Bonaventure IV, pp.131–139). 22 A substance essentially depends on other things in addition to its matter and form, but I am ignoring these for now. 23 A real definition (as opposed to a merely nominal definition) is an expression that picks out a real essence.

48 Chapter 3 of a definition correspond to the parts of an essence.24 Also, Scotus argues that there is real identity between an individual essence (such as Socrates) and an essence as such (such as humanity),25 such that real definition is of the indi- vidual substance and not just the essence as such. Finally, Aristotle himself seems to say, and Scotus interprets him as saying, that a composite substance is defined with reference to both matter and form.26 For Scotus, then, the essential parts of a substance are just those entities posited to account for, in rebus, the notes of a real definition, even if there is not a strict isomorphism between the logical parts of a definition and the essential parts of a composite substance. According to Scotus, the essential parts of a human are, on the side of matter, a body composed of different kinds of organic substances such as a heart substance, brain substance, and so on, and, on the side of form, one ratio­ nal soul.27 In a full definition of a human, e.g., , where animal can be decomposed into sensitive animate corporeal substance, Scotus argues that one thing (the rational soul) is all it takes to account for—in the individual human—all that is expressed by rational, sensitive, and animate.28 iii Degrees of Unity

Motivating Scotus’s thought on how matter and form compose material sub- stance is the conviction that material substances are unified in some special way in which, for example, the parts of an aggregate are not. Scotus’s label for this special sort of unity is “unity per se.” Scotus also gives this label to things

24 Aristotle, Metaphysics VII, 1034b 20–21 (Barnes II, p.1633), “Since a definition is a formula, and every formula has parts, and as the formula is to the thing, so is the part of the for- mula to the part of the thing […].” Scotus quotes this text in Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.16, n.22 (Bonaventure IV, p.316). In Scotus’s Latin, defini­ tion is definitio (horismos in Aristotle’s Greek), formula is ratio (logos in Aristotle), and thing is res (pragma in Aristotle). 25 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.7 (Bonaventure IV, pp.147– 156). For a brief but helpful discussion of this, see p.138 ff. of Richard Cross, “Duns Scotus’s Anti-Reductionistic Account of Material Substance,” Vivarium 33:2 (1995), pp.137–170. 26 Aristotle, Metaphysics VIII, 1043a 14–19 (Barnes II, p.1646). Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.16, n.29 (Bonaventure IV, p.315). 27 My account of body should strike readers familiar with Scotus as odd. I expand and defend the claim in Chapters 5 and 6. 28 Ordinatio IV, d.44, q.1, n.4 (Wadding X, p.98); see also Richard Cross, “Philosophy of Mind,” in The Cambridge Companion to Duns Scotus, ed. Thomas Williams (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), pp.263–284.

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part I 49 that are genuinely simple, such as angelic forms, and also to bare matter and bare forms. Scotus denies that there could be a genuinely simple (i.e., indivisi- ble) material object, since every material object is extended and therefore divisible, even if by divine power alone. He thinks that simple per se unities are more unified than complex per se unities, and any per se unity is more unified than any unity per accidens, such as an aggregate or the composite of a sub- stance and an accidental form. Scotus thinks therefore that unity comes in degrees; a genuinely simple, formally identical object enjoys a high degree of unity, whereas an aggregate, which Scotus defines as an object which is identi- cal with its parts, has the lowest degree. Scotus uses several Latin words to name a whole which is identical with its parts: aggregatio, congregatio, acervus, and cumulus. These words have differ- ent (though related) meanings but I translate each of them as “aggregate” for convenience’s sake and for the following additional reasons. “Aggregate” is free of connotations of a certain sort of arrangement or structure of the things composing the aggregate, and Scotus’s uses of these four Latin terms suggests that he thinks that the spatial arrangement of the parts of an aggregate adds nothing over and above the parts themselves. “Heap” or “mound,” by contrast, do connote a certain sort of arrangement. You wouldn’t call my briefcase and the Eifel Tower a heap or a mound, for example. But an aggregate, in Scotus’s sense, is indifferent to every spatial arrangement: the same stones can form a pile and then form a wall (a dry stone wall, to keep the example simple), and the same geese can form a gaggle or not. Scotus’s arguments for his thesis that a material substance is some third thing, not identical with matter and form, require a use of “aggregate” which is indifferent to the particular spatial arrangements of parts. If Scotus used aggregatio or its semantic cousins in a way that connoted the arrangement of parts, however, then an aggregate is not identical with its parts since the parts can exist without their arrangement (disassemble the dry stone wall and you still have the stones). Scotus’s aggre- gates, therefore, seem to be what would nowadays be called mereological sums, whose existence conditions are no more stringent than that their parts exist.29 But there are kinds of wholes besides aggregates or mereological sums, and one way that Scotus describes the difference between kinds of wholes is to say that relative to each other, different kinds of wholes are more or less unified. The difference between the extremes of an aggregate and a genuine simple is clear and it seems a plausible use of the comparatives more and less to say that

29 For an introduction to twentieth century mereology, including its historical development, see the early chapters of Peter Simons, Parts: A Study in Ontology (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1987).

50 Chapter 3 the first is more unified than the second and that the second is less unified than the first. But Scotus also holds that among genuinely complex objects there are different degrees of unity; in particular, Scotus holds

[SO1] A substance is more unified than an aggregate.30

I think that there is some intuitive sense to the idea that one complex thing can be more unified than another. One might begin crudely by thinking that parts are not very unified if they compose an aggregate, such as the sum of the Eiffel Tower and my briefcase, are slightly more unified if the object they compose is non-arbitrary but ephemeral, such as the water vapors composing a cloud, or the grains of sand composing a sandcastle, and are even more unified if the object they compose is sturdy, such as the parts of an automobile or the parts of Mole. On this picture one might think that a degree of unity corresponds to the spatial proximity of parts, or to the difficulty of separating (without simply destroying) the parts. But when it comes to the greater degree of unity of a substance relative to an aggregate, Scotus’s ideas are rather different from these. For Scotus, the unity of a substance consists in its being a thing in addition to its parts, and in this sense it is more unified—more a thing that is one—than an aggregate. He writes,

But it is shown that the entity of a whole [substance] is other than the entity of the parts, matter and form, such that it is a third entity: because otherwise there would not be a difference between unities which consti- tute one per se and unities which constitute one by aggregation, which is against the Philosopher in Metaphysics VIII, where he says that that which is one like an aggregate is nothing other than its parts.31

Scotus thinks then that [SO1] implies

30 In what follows I use numbered premises to make Scotus’s reasoning clear. I also intro- duce a number of premises shared by Ockham and Scotus, and some held by Ockham and not Scotus. Shared premises begin “SO,” premises that are Ockham’s alone begin “O,” and Scotus’s own begin “S.” 31 Lectura III, d.2, q.2, n.80 (Vatican XX, pp.102–103), Quod autem entitas totius sit alia ab entitate partium materiae et formae, ita quod sit tertia entitas, ostenditur, quia aliter non esset differentia inter unita quae constituunt unum per se et inter unita quae constituunt unum aggregatione—quod est contra Philosophum VIII Metaphysicae, ubi vult quod illud quod est unum sicut cumulus, nihil aliud est quam partes […]; Aristotle, Metaphysics VIII 1045a 7–33.

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part I 51

[S] A substance is something in addition to its essential parts.

In the quoted text above, Scotus seems to think that [S] directly follows from [SO1]. This does not seem right to me and it is certainly not obvious. But there is a longer route to [S] that is more compelling, and to this I now turn. iv Existence is not Enough

Ockham is happy with [SO1] but denies [S]. He argues that

[O] A substance is identical with its essential parts.

How then does Ockham distinguish between the unity of substances and the unity of aggregates? His answer is that a material substance is composed of essential parts one of which is in potency and the other is in act, where these parts are the essential parts composing a thing falling under just one genus, i.e., the genus of substance. By contrast, wholes that have less unity than substances have parts such that each part is itself a whole under some genus, whether (a) the parts are of the same genus (e.g., an aggregate of several substances) or (b) the parts are of different genera (e.g., an accidental unity of a substance and its accident).32 So, while Scotus would agree with Ockham that

[SO2] Matter is essentially potency and form is essentially act,33 the former does not but the latter does make [SO2] the reason for the greater unity of a substance. For Ockham, no further explanation of the unity of sub- stance is needed, even though he agrees with Scotus that

[SO3] It is possible that matter exists and form exists and that they do not compose a substance.34

32 Ockham, Quaestiones Variae VI, a.2, ll.150–162 (OTh VIII, pp.213–214). 33 Ockham like Scotus thinks that matter is not pure potency; it has an act of its own, an act whose essential feature is to be in potency to form. 34 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, q.4, n.14 (Bonaventure IV, p.493), […M]ateria et forma, si intelligantur non unita, non est contradictio quod utrumque intelligatur in se esse, et compositum non erit.

52 Chapter 3

More precisely, Scotus and Ockham hold that there is nothing repugnant about matter’s existing without being informed at all, and of form’s existing without being in any matter; in other words, both think that matter and form are totally separable. Since matter and form are essentially potency and act, respectively, neither loses its essential nature when each exists totally separately. [SO2] holds, therefore, even when matter and form do not compose a substance, and Scotus takes this as sufficient evidence that [SO2] cannot be the reason why matter and form are more unified than the parts of an aggregate. Against [O] Scotus argues that if a substance were identical with its essential parts then the only way for it to be corrupted would be for either matter or form or both to be destroyed. But this is inconsistent with [SO3]: if the matter and form of some particular substance were separated from each other and each continued to exist, the substance would be corrupted but neither essential part would be, just as a bicycle would cease to exist if its parts were disassembled. Likewise, if a substance were identical with its essential parts, then the only way for a sub- stance to be generated would be for either matter or form or both to be pro- duced. But this too is inconsistent with [SO3].35 The argument is not quite fair to Ockham’s position, however. Ockham can and does hold both that a substance is identical with its essential parts and also that there is some genuine difference between matter and form’s compos- ing a substance and matter and form’s merely existing. Matter and form exer- cise their natural aptitudes when form actualizes the potency of matter; they do not exercise their natural aptitudes when form does not actualize the potency of matter. Ockham’s commitment to [O], [SO2], and [SO3] is therefore unproblematic provided he has some account of what explains why matter and form sometimes exercise their aptitudes and sometimes do not. v Making a Difference

Unlike Scotus, Ockham thinks that what needs explanation is not the unity of the essential parts, but their disunity, when it happens that matter and form

35 Ordinatio III, d.2, q.2, nn.74–75 (Vatican IX, pp.149–150); Lectura III, d.2, q.2, nn.81–82 (Vatican XX, p.103); Reportatio Parisiensis III-A, d.2, q.1, n.5 (Wadding XI, p.428). Ockham would not accept the arguments from generation and corruption, however, because he thinks that strictly speaking there is not generation or corruption unless there is the pro- duction or destruction of an essential part, de novo. See Quaestiones Variae VI, a.2, ll.192– 201 (OTh VIII, p.215).

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part I 53 exist, do not compose a substance, and are not the matter or form of any other substance. But both accept total separability and therefore both think that one needs some account of what changes when matter and form compose a sub- stance, or when matter and form cease to compose a substance (but go on existing). Scotus argues that

[S1] The sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to com- pose a substance is the production of some entity (other than mat- ter and form).

Ockham does not accept [S1], because he understands [S1] to mean that the produced entity will either be a part of a substance or the substance itself, both of which are inconsistent with [O]. (Scotus understands [S1] in this way, too.) However, Ockham does accept a modification of [S1] which [S1] entails and which Scotus therefore should also accept:

[SO4] The sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance is either the production of some entity or the destruction of some entity.

Ockham argues for [SO4] in the following way. He begins by noting that change occurs in three different ways: through temporal passage, local motion, and the production or destruction of an entity. If the first two are ruled out Ockham has [SO4]. Temporal passage is not relevant, but Ockham is attracted to the idea that local motion is sufficient for bringing about the union or disunion of matter and form, suggesting that Aristotle, following “natural reason,” would hold simply that being in the same place is sufficient for matter and form to compose a substance. But he considers two theological cases that close off this—according to him—otherwise reasonable position. The first is that dur- ing Christ’s three days in the tomb, Christ’s intellective soul was taken to be in the same place as his body, and yet (because he was dead) not inform it and so not compose a substance with it.36 The second is that, according to the Bible, the resurrected Christ passed through a closed door and was therefore in the same place as the door, but the soul of Christ neither informs the door nor composes a substance with it.37 Ockham concludes by elimination: “thus it is

36 Ockham, Quaestiones Variae VI, a.2, ll.250–253 (OTh VIII, p.217); for this view also see Ockham, Quodlibet IV, q.31, ll.48–56 (OTh IX, p.453). 37 Ockham, Quaestiones Variae VI, a.2, ll.254–257 (OTh VIII, pp.216–217); John 20:26.

54 Chapter 3 necessary that when from a non-composite a composite comes to be, or vice versa, something positive is produced or destroyed.”38 Scotus seems to agree with Ockham’s theological points.39 But he has strictly philosophical resources with which to rule out local motion as the sort of change able to bring about the composition of matter and form. In at least one text, Scotus thinks that totally separated matter and totally separated form would literally not be anywhere.40 The reason seems to be that being in a place, according to Scotus, involves having an accidental form of a certain kind. But having separable accidents belongs not to matter and form individually but to the substance they compose. So nothing is in a place unless and until it is or is in a substance or an integral part of a substance. What then is produced or destroyed when a substance comes to be or ceases to be? Scotus and Ockham agree about the truth of

[SO5] The change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance cannot be the production of a relative form, and

[SO6] The change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance cannot be the production of an absolute form.

[SO6] holds for reasons considered at the beginning of the chapter, namely that if the change were the production of an absolute form, then we would need some account of how matter and form and the additional form become parts of the same substance. If this account involves the production of yet another form, then an infinite process ensues. If this account does not involve the production of a third form, then there was no reason for positing the sec- ond form in the first place.41 The argument for [SO6] turns on the assumption that if the change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a sub- stance were the production of an absolute form, then this absolute form would be, along with matter and form, a part of the whole substance.

38 Ockham, Quaestiones Variae VI, a.2, ll.58–60 (OTh VIII, pp.217), Et ideo necesse est quod quando de non composito fit compositum vel econtra quod aliquis positivum producatur vel destruatur. 39 Lectura III, d.22, q.un, n.71 (Vatican XXI, p.94). 40 Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d.12, q.2, n.7 (Wadding XI, p.322). 41 Ordinatio III, d.2, q.2, nn.80 (Vatican IX, p.152); Lectura III, d.2, q.2, n.78 (Vatican XX, p.101).

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part I 55

The argument for [SO5] is more complicated. Since Scotus thinks that most relations are genuine entities really distinct from their relata, it would have been open to him to argue for [SO5] in exactly the same way as he argued for [SO6]. But he does not.42 Instead, in arguing for [SO5] Scotus assumes that if the change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance were the production of a relative form, then this relative form would not be a part of the whole substance but would be the whole substance. He writes,

The of all absolute things, as including matter and form, and as definable (because as they are definable, they are species of an absolute genus), are not formally merely relative entities—which, nevertheless, would be necessary if the proper entity of the whole were a relation.43

It is not obvious just why Scotus thinks that if the generation of a relation explains matter and form’s composing a substance, then that relation is “the proper entity of the whole.” Presumably Scotus does not think that the com- posite substance would just be a relation, since it does not follow that if the production of a relation explains how matter and form compose a substance, then the substance composed of matter and form just is a relation. Perhaps what Scotus has in mind is that if the difference between matter and form composing and not composing is a relation, then the relation would enter into the definition of the substance, such that a substance would be essentially relative. Scotus argues for [SO5] in a different way in QMet VIII, q.4:

A new relation cannot exist, neither in one term nor in the other, if no change was made in something absolute. [But] in neither matter nor form does [an absolute] change occur if they remain [after] having been separated. Therefore the relation of these is the same as it was before the separation.44

42 And he would not, for he elsewhere rejects Bradley’s Regress-style arguments against his realism about relations. QMet V, q.11, nn.51–55 (Bonaventure III, pp.584–585). Also, see the discussion in Marilyn McCord Adams, William Ockham vol. I, pp.215–233. 43 Ordinatio III, d.2, q.2, n.78 (Vatican IX, pp.150–151), [Q]uidditates omnium absolutorum, ut includentes materian et formam, et ut definibiles (quia ut sic, sunt species generis absoluti), non sunt tantum formaliter entia respectiva—quod tamen oporteret si entitas propria totius esset respectus. 44 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, q.4, n.23 (Bonaventure IV, p.496), […R]elatio non potest esse nova, nulla mutatione facta in aliquo absoluto, et hoc

56 Chapter 3

Here, Scotus presumes that the produced relation would be a part of the sub- stance together with matter and form. He starts from the Aristotelian thesis that a change in relation occurs only in virtue of a change in something abso- lute.45 If two things are related they are related in respect of something abso- lute, for example, Mole and Rat are similar with respect to genus,46 a white stone and a black stone are opposed with respect to color, and Badger is larger than Mole with respect to quantity. (Of course, x and y could be, say, taller than z, and therefore both would be similar with respect to being taller than z. In some sense therefore things can be related in respect of something relative, but this is not relevant to Scotus’s argument.) So if matter and form begin to compose a substance because a relative entity is produced, and likewise cease to compose a substance when the same relative entity is destroyed, then there must be some absolute change(s) in virtue of which that relation is produced or destroyed. But, according to Scotus, matter and form do not change in any absolute way when they first compose and then do not compose a substance. So if matter and form are related while composing a substance, this relation will remain after they cease to compose a substance. The absurdity would fol- low that the matter and form do not compose a substance but have exactly the same relations to each other in virtue of which they compose a substance. So the relation between matter and form cannot explain their composing a sub- stance—it cannot be the difference in things that makes matter and form into parts of a substance. Scotus does not deny that real relations are produced when matter and form compose a substance. In fact he thinks that two pairs of relations are produced: relations of matter and form to each other, and relations of matter and form to the substance they compose. But neither pair nor both together explain why matter and form compose, because each is naturally posterior to the composite. Scotus and Ockham agree about [SO5] and [SO6] but here there agreement ends. Ockham thinks that [SO5] and [SO6] cross off every relevant item on the inventory of the things there are, and therefore feels entitled to claim

[O1] (=not-[S1]) It is not the case that the sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance is the produc- tion of some entity (other than matter and form).

nec in uno extremo relationis nec in alio. Materia et forma, si manent separata, in nullo illorum fit mutatio; ergo eadem est ipsorum relatio quae fuit ante separationem. 45 Aristotle, Physics V 225b 11–13 (Barnes I, p.381). 46 They are similar with respect to genus in the Porphyrian-Tree sense, not the modern zoo- logical sense: they are both sensitive, animate, material substances.

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part I 57

But from [O1] and

[SO4] The sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance is either the production of some entity or the destruction of some entity,

Ockham can infer that

[O2] The sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to com- pose a substance is the destruction of some entity.

Ockham is not explicit about his reasons but seems to think it is obvious that

[O3] What is destroyed when matter and form begin to compose a sub- stance is a real relation of distinction.

Ockham distinguishes between two sorts of real distinction. In the first sort, two things are distinct because “this is this, and that is that.” No real relative entity is required to explain how two individuals are really distinct from each other in this first way; if it were, then something would be individual because of its real relations of distinctions to everything other than it. But according to Ockham things are individuals prior to their relations to other things. According to the second sort of real distinction, two things are really distinct if and only if they are not united but are things which naturally are united, such as form and matter, which are such that naturally the first informs and the second is informed.47 If matter and form exist but do not compose a substance, some explanation in things is required to explain their being really distinct. Ockham posits a real relation of distinction—of the informative to the informable—as just the sort of entity whose existence blocks the union of matter and form. When this relative entity is destroyed, then form and matter are united as informing and informed, with no real relations between them.48 “A whole sub- stance,” then, signifies matter and form and connotes the negation of the real relation of distinction.49

47 Whatever is really distinct in the second way is really distinct in the first, but not conversely. 48 Ockham, Quaestiones Variae VI, a.2, ll.62–84 (OTh VIII, pp.209–210). 49 Ockham, Quaestiones Variae VI, a.2, ll.87–88 (OTh VIII, pp.210), ita quod totum significat ipsas partes et connotat negationem illius distinctionis praedictae.

58 Chapter 3

Interestingly, Ockham does not consider that he need not think that the composition of every material substance involves the destruction of a real rela- tion of distinction. Naturally forms are produced simultaneously with the sub- stances of which they are forms, so only when the intellective soul is separated from the body is there a naturally occurring real relation of distinction between form and matter. It follows then that, naturally, the production of an absolute (substantial) form, without the production of a real relation of distinction, is all that is required for the production of a material substance, assuming, with Ockham, that matter is not producible or destructible by natural powers. The union of matter and form must be explained as the destruction of a real rela- tion of distinction only in miraculous cases such as resurrection. Had Scotus been able to respond to Ockham, he might have argued against [O3] on the following grounds. Following Aristotle, a real relation is only destroyed when something absolute changes. So if a real relation of distinction is destroyed for the bringing about of the composition of matter and form, something absolute changes. Ockham denies that being in the same place is sufficient for matter and form to compose a substance, so he cannot claim that the relation of distinction is destroyed through local motion. Moreover, nei- ther matter nor form has any absolute accidents the destruction of which would result in the destruction of their distinction relation. So the relation of distinction between matter and form could only be destroyed when either matter or form or both are destroyed; but then of course there could not be a substance composed of matter and form. Ockham would likely respond that God could directly destroy the relation without causing any absolute change(s) in matter and form. Whether or not he can shore up his own position on logical grounds, however, Ockham’s account of how matter and form compose a substance remains dissatisfying. Except in a few miraculous cases, Ockham denies that relations are things distinct from their foundations. As in Trinitarian metaphysics so here in the metaphysics of substance, Ockham appeals to real relations against his philosophical impulses to explain otherwise—according to him—unexplainable data. But the Scotus- defender or the Scotus-sympathizer might reasonably wonder: what is so bad about Scotus’s thesis that a substance is really distinct from its matter and form, such that an ad hoc appeal to miraculous relative entities should be intel- lectually more satisfying? We cannot appeal to Ockham’s razor, since Ockham in effect just replaces one sort of uncouth entity—a substance really distinct from its parts—with another—a relation. True, there turn out to be fewer of these uncouth relations in Ockham’s theory than there are uncouth substances in Scotus’s, since Ockham’s relations account for exceptional cases when mat- ter and form exist but do not compose, while Scotus’s substances account for

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part I 59 all non-exceptional cases when matter and form exist and do compose. So there is a greater parsimony in the number if not the kinds of entities posited in Ockham’s theory. Still, insofar as we want parsimony as part of a deeper commitment to theoretical simplicity, then it’s hard to see how Ockham’s the- ory has the advantage. And it’s especially hard to see how Ockham could find his own position rational, given how he elsewhere criticizes realism about relations.50 If [O3] is false, then [O2] is true only if there is some absolute entity the destruction of which is sufficient for bringing about the composition of matter and form. Ockham apparently did not think there was, and I cannot think of any candidates. So as [O3] falls so falls [O2]. But Ockham posited [O2] as his way of offering an account of the change necessary for matter and form to compose a substance which was consistent with [O]. Without [O2], then, Ockham cannot establish [O]. But [O2] follows from [O1] and [SO4]. So the negation of [O2] entails not- [O1], which is equivalent to Scotus’s [S1], which claims that the sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance is the produc- tion of some entity. In the following chapter we will examine Scotus reasons for thinking that the entity that matter and form produce when they compose is a substance, and analyze his rather complex account of just how matter and form produce a substance.

50 Ockham, Ordinatio I, d.30 (OTh IV, pp.281–395); see discussion in Marilyn McCord Adams, William Ockham vol.1, pp.215–276.

Chapter 4 How Matter and Form Compose a Substance— Part II

i Producing Substance from Matter and Form

The previous chapter examined Scotus’s reasons for thinking that the differ- ence between matter and form merely existing and matter and form compos- ing a substance is the result of a certain sort of change, or

[S1] The sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance is the production of some entity (other than matter and form).

To seal his case for [S], Scotus argues for the additional premise

[S2] The sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to com- pose a substance is the production of a substance.

Ockham’s attempt to demonstrate

[O2] The sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to com- pose a substance is the destruction of some entity, proceeded by trying to show that the change that brings about the composi- tion of matter and form could not be the production of any entity, or

[O1] (=not-[S1]) It is not the case that the sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance is the produc- tion of some entity (other than matter and form), and then inferring from [O1] and

[SO4] The sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance is either the production of some entity or the destruction of some entity,

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2014 | doi 10.1163/9789004278974_006

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part II 61 that this change must be the destruction of some entity. According to Scotus, however, Ockham was not entitled to assert [O1] because he failed to consider one more item on the list of the things there are—material substances them- selves. So Scotus argues for [S2] in the following way: [SO4], but not-[O2], therefore [S1]. But

[SO5] The change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance cannot be the production of a relative form, and

[SO6] The change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance cannot be the production of an absolute form, so the relevant change is not the production of any form; other things, such as prime matter, angels, or God, are not eligible candidates. So, through the elimi- nation of all other contenders, [S2]. From [S2] we cannot derive [S], however, because [S] says not just that a whole substance is really distinct from matter and form, but that it is really distinct from its essential parts. So the matter and form which compose a sub- stance when a substance is produced must themselves produce the substance they compose. For all [S2] says it could be that the substance produced by this matter and this form is composed of that matter and that form. Neither Scotus nor Ockham, nor anyone else as far as I know, discussed this bizarre option, so I will not pursue it further, except to say

[SO7] Matter and form compose a substance if and only if matter and form are the causes of the whole substance of which they (once they cause the substance) are the essential parts.

[SO7] simply makes the necessary clarifications that matter and form are the causes of the substance and that they compose what they produce, and Scotus simply assumed that to arrive at [S2] was as good as arriving at [SO7]. [SO7] does not entail [S], because [SO7] leaves it open that the substance that matter and form produce is not a thing in addition to matter and form but simply the matter and form conjunctim, taken together. And indeed, given the way in which matter and form were understood to be causes within the Aristotelian tradition, namely, as intrinsic causes, this would be the natural way to understand the causal claim made in [SO7]. But Scotus has a bold and startling understanding of intrinsic causality, which includes the claim:

62 Chapter 4

[S3] The effect of two intrinsic causes is something really distinct from those causes, taken individually or together.

[SO7] supplemented by [S3] gives Scotus what he needs to establish [S]. But it is not obvious why anyone would think that the effect of intrinsic causes is really distinct from its intrinsic causes. To motivate this idea, consider the fol- lowing. We know that matter and form do compose substance. But without [S3], Scotus would be out of options for an explanatory account of how matter and form come to compose a substance. He has argued that a change must occur; he has argued that this must be an absolute change by which a new entity is produced; he has argued that this absolute change cannot be the pro- duction of a form; he takes it for granted that other sorts of things such as prime matter, angels, or God, either cannot be produced or wouldn’t be at all relevant, if produced, to the composition of matter and form; substance is the only sort of thing left. Either a substance is produced by matter and form or it is produced by something else. If a substance is produced by something else then it’s not clear what that production would have to do with the composition of matter and form. So it must be the case that matter and form produce the substance they compose. The argument is not by itself satisfactory, however, because the conclusion it establishes, [S3], looks at first glance simply like a misunderstanding of what Aristotle meant by including material and formal as two of the four kinds of causes. Ockham himself seems to have thought this about Scotus; we will return to Ockham’s worry below. First, however, we will proceed as Scotus him- self does: not by arguing directly for the claim that the effect of intrinsic causes is really distinct from those causes, but by showing how this assumption yields a coherent (if extraordinarily complicated) account of how matter and form come to compose a substance and considering two important challenges to the coherence of this account. ii Causal and Co-causal Relations

Recall from the previous chapter that one of Scotus’s defenses of

[SO5] The change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance cannot be the production of a relative form, involved appeal to the Aristotelian principle about relational change, accord- ing to which changes in relations are caused or explained by absolute changes.

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part II 63

To hold, then, that matter and form compose a substance by gaining new rela- tions (such as parthood relations) is at best nonexplanatory—matter and form don’t just happen to gain or lose parthood relations; they gain or lose them because of some absolute change. Scotus’s own account of how matter and form compose involves identifying this absolute change. The basic solution is that the generation of the substance itself is the absolute change that explains matter and form’s new relations. Since the substance is the joint effect of matter and form, new relations in matter and form to the substance, and new relations in the substance to matter and form, necessarily arise once the sub- stance is produced. These relations are, of course, causal relations—relations of cause to effect in matter and form, and relations of effect to cause(s) in substance. So far, so good. But at this point things get complicated. Scotus holds that when matter and form cause a substance they are related to each other as causes of the same effect, and describes these “co-causal” relations as the rela- tions of union between matter and form. But matter and form are united, says Scotus, before they produce their joint effect. Therefore the generation of the substance cannot be the absolute change in virtue of which matter and form are united in their causing. Therefore either Scotus must appeal to some addi- tional, prior absolute change, or risk violating the Aristotelian principle about relational change. But he doesn’t appeal to some additional absolute change. Instead, he thinks that an efficient cause causes matter and form to cause sub- stance simply by newly relating them:

To concur and not to concur [in causing] changes nothing about the absolute nature of some cause […] Thus, [two] causes [concurrently] cause at one time and don’t at another only because of the relation of both causes to each other (though the reason for causing is in neither one nor the other of these). So here especially, concerning these two causes, namely matter and form: because they are united (that is, concurring to cause) they cause, whose concurrence comes about through the action of an agent. If they are not concurring, they do not cause.1

1 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, q. 4, nn. 31, 32 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 498–499), Concurrere autem et non concurrere nihil variant circa absolutam naturam alicuius causae […] Itaque sola relatione alia et alia causarum ad invicem, quae tamen non est eis nec alicui earum ratio causandi, causae quandoque causant quandoque non. Ita hic de duabus causis specialiter, scilicet materia et forma, quia unita, hoc est concurrentia ad cau- sandum, causant (qui concursus fit eroum per actionem agentis); non concurrentia, non causant.

64 Chapter 4

Thus, while matter and form gain causal/parthood relations to substance natu- rally posterior to the generation of the substance, matter and form gain co- causal/union relations to each other naturally prior to the generation of the substance.2 How, then, does Scotus not violate the Aristotelian principle about relational change? QMet VIII, q. 4, unfortunately, does not answer this question. However, Scotus’s own theorizing about relations developed elsewhere furnishes a plau- sible answer.3 The gist is that Scotus does not think that all relations only arise from absolute changes; only what Scotus calls intrinsic relations do. Intrinsic relations are such that given the absolute features of two or more objects, rela- tions arise necessarily; the absolute terms of the relation are the “necessary cause” of the relation.4 For example, given that is six feet tall and Socrates is five and a half feet tall, the relation taller than necessarily arises in Plato, and shorter than in Socrates. Changes in intrinsic relations require absolute changes in relata, since these relations essentially depend on the absolute makeup of their relata (at some time). Extrinsic relations, by contrast, are such that the absolute features of their relata do not necessitate the advent of the relation. Specify every absolute feature of the subject of the relation, and every absolute feature of the term of the relation, and it’s still a contingent affair whether or not that relation exists. Scotus says explicitly that Aristotle’s principle does not apply to changes of extrinsic relations,5 from which it follows that an absolute change is not required to produce or destroy external relations. In Ordinatio III, d. 1, p. 1, q. 1, n. 59, Scotus offers two examples of extrinsic relations: the rela- tions of soul to body and of a quantitative form to its subject. Both items of each pair could exist and not be related, i.e., not compose a human, and not compose an accidental unity, respectively. Says Scotus, “If they are newly united, no new absolute is in either term, but that relation exists contingently, such that it can both exist and not exist in the posited term.”6

2 In Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis IX, qq. 3–4, n. 25 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 545–546), Scotus repeats in more general terms that intrinsic causes (i.e., matter and form) are related both to each and to their effect. In this text, however, he does not specify which pair of relations is prior to the other—quae essentialius vel prius, non est modo quaestio. 3 For other ways in which Scotus violates the relational change principle, see Richard Cross, “Relations, Universals, and the Abuse of Tropes,” Aristotelian Society Supplementary Volume 79:1 (2005), pp. 53–72. 4 Ordinatio III, d. 1, p. 1, q. 1, n. 58 (Vatican IX, p. 27). 5 Ordinatio III, d. 1, p. 1, q. 1, n. 60 (Vatican IX, p. 28). 6 Ordinatio III, d. 1, p. 1, q. 1, n. 59 (Vatican IX, pp. 27–28), […] si de novo uniantur, nullum abso- lutum est in altero extremo, sed ista relatio contingenter se habet, etiam ut possit esse et non esse extremis positis.

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part II 65

Scotus therefore thinks that no absolute changes explain or cause the advent of union relations between matter and form. But he does not think that matter and form compose a substance simply in virtue of being united, and therefore he does not think that being united, that is, being related to each other as co-causes of the same effect, is that in which the parthood of matter and form consists. Parthood in general is a relation to a whole, not to other parts, and therefore parthood relations must exist naturally posterior to the existence of the whole. Once matter and form produce the substance, matter and form gain new rela- tions to the substance, and these relations are necessary in the sense that given matter and form and given that matter and form are the causes of the substance, matter and form must be causally related to their effect. Causal relations are thus intrinsic relations. Not only can causal relations not arise without some absolute change (the coming to be of the effect), they must arise, given the effect. Composing a substance is therefore a temporally simultaneous series of naturally ordered instants of nature, where two items, A and B, are naturally ordered and therefore exist at different instants of nature if and only if expla- nation of A requires reference to B (or vice versa).7 At the temporal instant at which matter and form compose substance Scotus distinguishes six naturally ordered instants, (i–vi), where (i) is naturally prior to (ii), (ii) is naturally prior to (iii), and so on:

(i) An agent efficiently causes matter and form to co-cause the substance. (ii) Matter and form are related to each other as co-causes (i.e., they have co- causal relations to each other). (iii) Matter and form co-cause the substance. (iv) The substance exists. (v) Matter and form are related to the substance as parts to whole (i.e., they have parthood/causal relations to the substance). (vi) The substance is related to matter and form as whole to parts (i.e., it has totality relations to matter and form).

(Scotus thinks that (vi) is naturally posterior to (v),8 but I myself have no intu- itions that these are naturally ordered instants at all.)

7 Here I am following Calvin Normore’s analysis of instants of nature. See Calvin Normore, “Duns Scotus’s Modal Theory,” in The Cambridge Companion to Duns Scotus, pp. 130–137 and especially p. 134. 8 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, q. 4, n. 45 (Bonaventure IV, p. 502).

66 Chapter 4 iii Innovating Aristotle’s Principle about Relational Change

Having distinguished this order Scotus sets himself a troubling objection. If the union/co-causal relations of matter and form to each other are extrinsic relations, do not depend for their existence on an absolute change (in this case the generation of the substance), and are essentially prior to the substance, then why should the corruption of the substance result in the ceasing of these relations? Shouldn’t it follow that the substance could be corrupted and matter and form cease to compose, and matter and form still be united? Non, says Scotus; but to explain just why not demands a heavy qualification to the Aristotelian principle about relational change:

[W]hen some things are related to each other and it is impossible that they are thus related unless one or both of these is related to some third thing, their mutual relation may well be corrupted without the corrup- tion of anything absolute in either of these, solely by the corruption of an absolute posited in that third thing to which either [or both] is referred. So here: it is impossible that matter and form be united unless each is a part of the composite. Therefore in the composite, something absolute [i.e., the substance] which was the foundation of the totality relation in it having been corrupted, the totality relation is corrupted; and by conse- quence the relation of part in these [i.e., matter and form]; and third the mutual relation in each of these [i.e., matter and form], which cannot remain without those [relations] to the third. And then this is false: ‘A relation is not corrupted unless something absolute in either of the relatives is corrupted,’ unless there is added, ‘or in some third, to which either of the relatives is necessarily referred,’ such that without such a relation it would not be referred.9

9 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, q. 4, nn. 45–46 (Bonaventure IV, p. 502), […Q]uando aliqua mutuo refereuntur, et incompossibile est illa sic referri nisi alterum illorum referatur ad aliquod tertium vel ambo, bene potest corrumpi relatio eorum mutuo sine corruptione alicuius absoluti in altero illorum, sola corruptione absoluti posita in illo tertio ad quod alterum illorum dicitur. Sic hic: imcompossibile est materiam et formam esse unita nisi utrumque sit pars compositi. Ergo in composito, corrupto aliquo absoluto quod erat fundamentum relationis totalitatis in ipso, corrumpitur relatio totalitatis; et ex consequenti relatio “partis” in istis; et tertio relatio mutua in utroque istorum, quae non potest stare sine illa ad tertium. Et tunc ista est false “relatio non corrumpitur nisi corrupto aliquo absoluto in altero relativorum,” nisi addatur “vel un aliquo tertio, ad quod necessario dicitur alterum relatorum,” ita quod sine hoc tali relatione non referretur.

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part II 67

Here Scotus allows that relational changes can cause relational changes, pro- vided that there is some special order between the relations (or pairs of rela- tions, in this case), such that the second cannot exist without the first. The claim is that union relations cannot exist without parthood relations, so the destruction of the parthood relation entails the destruction of the union rela- tion. He does not argue for this claim, but simply presents it as an obvious counterexample to the Aristotelian principle—new data demands modifica- tion of the theory. In offering this counterexample Scotus is likely relying on more than just intuition. The claim is backed up by deep-structure theoretical commitments. First, Scotus denies that being essentially prior to entails being able to exist without. In De Primo Principio he speculates that in some essential orders, the essentially prior produces its essentially dependent effect necessarily and therefore cannot exist without it.10 Assuming then that union/co-causal rela- tions are essentially prior to the substance (surely a safe assumption), it is open for Scotus to hold that union/co-causal relations are essentially prior to but nevertheless cannot exist without the substance. Second, and closely related to the first, Scotus thinks that, for essential causal orders, a cause is strictly speak- ing a cause only at the moment at which it is causing.11 Thus only at the (tem- poral) instant at which the effect begins to exist is the cause its cause. Remove the effect, therefore, remove the cause’s causing of the effect. Similarly, if two cause concurrently (as do matter and form), then their co-causing, and hence their co-causal relations, obtain at the (temporal) instant at which their joint effect begins to exist. Remove the effect, therefore, remove their co-causing (and hence their co-causal relations). Given this innovation of Aristotle’s principle of relational change, it’s worth questioning whether this innovation is consistent with one of Scotus’s reasons for holding [SO5]. [SO5] denies that the production of relations can explain the composition of matter and form, and one reason Scotus thinks this is that relations cannot be produced without some absolute change. Scotus’s innova- tion is consistent with this reason for holding [SO5], it seems to me. Scotus’s innovation does not really allow that relational change can occur without absolute change. Instead, he thinks that an absolute change can explain the destruction of a relation in a transitive way, through the destruction of another relation. For example, the destruction of a substance (an absolute change) entails the destruction of parthood relations, and the destruction of parthood relations entail the destruction of union/co-causal relations, but by transitivity

10 De Primo Principio I.8 (Wolter, p. 5). 11 De Primo Principio III.11 (Wolter, p. 47).

68 Chapter 4 we can infer that the absolute change entails the destruction of the union rela- tions. So Scotus does not, as it might first appear, refuse with one hand what he takes with another. On his innovative view, it remains the case that an absolute change is needed to explain relational change; but absolute changes can explain relational changes both directly (e.g., the corruption of a substance entails the destruction of parthood relations in matter and form) and transi- tively, through the destruction of different relations (e.g., the destruction of parthood relations in matter and form entail the destruction of the union rela- tions of matter and form). iv The Identification of Parthood Relations with Causal Relations

I have been assuming so far that the causal relations of matter and form to substance are the parthood relations of matter and form to substance, that being an essential part of a composite substance simply amounts to being a material or formal cause of a composite substance. Scotus does not directly argue for the identification of causal with parthood relations, but that he thinks this is clear throughout QMet VIII, q. 4. To show this we can start by examining three texts. The first is a portion of n. 45, part of the text just quoted in which Scotus modifies the Aristotelian principle about relational change:

[I]t is impossible that matter and form be united unless each is a part of the composite. Therefore in the composite, something absolute [i.e., the substance] which was the foundation of the totality relation in it having been corrupted, the totality relation is corrupted; and by consequence the relation of part in these [i.e., matter and form]; and third the mutual relation in each of these [i.e., matter and form], which cannot remain without those [relations] to the third.

The second comes from n. 41:

The entity of the composite is some third entity from matter and form, and is caused by these. In that [substance] a change of corruption comes about, because it is not after it was, and both were said to be causing it per se, although not at first. Thus a change of relation follows in these upon the corruption of the relation and the foundation in the composite.12

12 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, q. 4, n. 41 (Bonaventure IV, p. 501), Sic hic: entitas compositi est aliqua entitas tertia ab entitate materiae et formae,

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part II 69

The third comes from n. 49. Scotus writes that when a substance is corrupted,

First the foundation in the effect is corrupted, and thus its relation, and third the relation in the cause.13

All three texts express the “domino effect” of relational corruptions that result from the corruption of the substance, and all are presented to reinforce the claim that the substance itself is the absolute item whose generation explains how matter and form become parts and whose corruption explains how they cease to be parts. In n. 45 the corruption of the substance results in the corrup- tion of, first, totality relations, then, parthood relations, and finally mutual rela- tions. (Presumably the mutual relations are the co-causal/union relations of matter and form, since Scotus identifies no other mutual relations between mat- ter and form.) In n. 41, upon the corruption of the substance, causal relations in matter and form to substance are corrupted (and perhaps co-causal/union rela- tions are implied here as well). In n. 49 the corruption of the substance leads first to a corruption of its relation (presumably the totality relations, since these are the only sort of relation in the whole that Scotus identifies) and then to a corrup- tion of the relations in the causes (presumably the causal relations of matter and form to substance). I take these texts to be making philosophically the same move using different labels for the same relations. At no point does Scotus distinguish causal from parthood relations, and in n. 45 he endorses the claim of an objector, expressed in n. 44, that when matter and form compose a substance,

[I]n the two absolute essences of matter and form four relations are founded, having proper primary correlatives: namely, two mutual rela- tions and two to the composite.14

et causata ab eis. In illa fit mutatio corruptionis, quia non est postquam fuit, et ad illam dicebantur ambo causantia per se, licet non primo. Ideo sequitur mutatio relationis in eis ad corruptionem relationis et fundamenti in illo composito. 13 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, q. 4, n. 49 (Bonaventure IV, p. 503), Nam primo corrumpitur fundamentum in effectu, et ideo relatio eius, et (quasi tertio) relatio in causa. 14 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, q. 4, n. 44 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 501–502), Et ita in duabus essentiis absolutis materiae et formae fundantur quattuor relationes, habentes propria correlativa prima: diae scilicet mutuae, et duae ad compositum.

70 Chapter 4

If causal and parthood relations were distinct types of relations, we would expect Scotus not to endorse this portion of the objection, as he explicitly does: “the conclusion of this last argument can be conceded.”15 Finally, for indirect evidence, while Ockham denies that matter and form have parthood relations to the substance they compose, and denies that the substance is really distinct from matter and form (taken together), he never- theless thinks that what being a material or formal cause of a substance amounts to is simply being an essential part a substance: “the causality of [matter and form] is nothing other than to be essential parts of any compos- ite.”16 There is no reason to doubt that Scotus thought the same thing (despite his ontological additions of parthood relations and a real distinction of the whole substance from its essential parts). v The Causality of Matter and Form

I now return to the worry that Scotus has misunderstood what it is to be an intrinsic cause. As we have seen, Scotus recognizes that [S] demands a fairly radical reconstrual of the causality of matter and form, a reconstrual expressed in

[S3] The effect of an intrinsic cause is something really distinct from the intrinsic cause.

One might worry, however, that Scotus has tried to make material and formal causes do the work of efficient causes. This is exactly Ockham’s worry, and one of his many criticisms of Scotus’s view that a whole substance is something in addition to matter and form:

I say that intrinsic causes do not cause something absolute or relative in any way distinct from them, because if they did, then in respect to those things [which they cause] they would have efficient [causation] and so they would be extrinsic causes. But the causality of these is nothing other than to be essential parts of any composite. And this comes about on

15 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, q. 4, n. 45 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 502), Responsio: conclusio istius ultimae rationis posset concedi. 16 Ockham, Quaestiones Variae VI, a. 2, ll. 217–218 (OTh VIII, p. 216), Sed causalitas earum non est aliud nisi esse partes essentiales alicuius compositi.

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part II 71

account of this, that one is informing and the other is informed, one is potency and the other is act. This pertains to these from their natures, having removed any distinction from them.17

Ockham thinks that all it takes for matter and form to be parts of a substance is for any preventing real relation of distinction to be destroyed; and he thinks that all it takes for matter and form to be intrinsic causes is to be parts. Scotus would have been unmoved by Ockham’s objection, for two reasons. First, Scotus rejects Ockham’s alternative account according to which matter and form do not need to do anything to compose substance. As we have seen, Scotus thinks that causing a substance is prior to being a part of a substance, because he thinks that the production of a substance is the only absolute change that can explain the relative changes in matter and form when they acquire parthood relations. Second, he actually considers it a special strength and not a weakness of his view that it includes that the effect of intrinsic causes is something really distinct from the intrinsic causes:

If there were no other entity of the whole than the entity of the parts, there would not be a caused composite, because the parts are not caused from intrinsic causes. If therefore the composite is nothing other than the parts, it would follow that the composite would not be caused from intrinsic causes, because then there would be nothing except those two entities, which are causes.18

Scotus is quite explicit that the effect of an intrinsic cause is something really distinct from the intrinsic cause; he embraces [S3] with eyes wide open. If pressed with Ockham’s objection, Scotus could have distinguished efficient from material and formal causality in some other way than by saying that the

17 Ockham, Quaestiones Variae VI, a. 2, ll. 214–220 (OTh VIII, p. 216), […D]ico quod causae intrinsecae non causant aliquid absolutum nec respectivum quocumque modo dis- tinctum ab eis, quia si sic respectu illius haberent efficientiam et sic essent causae extrin- secae. Sed causalitas earum non est aliud nisi esse partes essentiales alicuius compositi. Et hoc fit per hic quod una est informans et alia informata, una est potentia et alia actus. Hoc convenit eis ex natura earum, circumscripto quocumque distincto ab eis. 18 Lectura III, d. 2, q. 2, n. 83 (Vatican XX, p. 103), Item, si non esset alia entitas totius quam est entitas partium, non esset compositum causatum, quia partes non sunt causatae ex causis intrinsecis; si igitur compositum nihil aliud esset quam partes, sequeretur quod compositum non esset causatum ex causis intrinsecis, quia tunc essent nonnisi illa duo entia quae sunt causae. Also, Ordinatio III, d. 2, q. 2, n. 76 (Vatican IX, p. 150); Reportatio Parisiensis III-A, d. 2, q. 1, n. 4 (Wadding XI, p. 428).

72 Chapter 4 effect of the efficient cause is really distinct from the efficient cause whereas the effect of the intrinsic causes is not really distinct from the intrinsic causes.19 For this reason, Scotus has no reason to abandon [S3]; and this yields [S], and thus [SO1] → [S]. vi Dispensing with Total Separability?

Suppose someone did not buy Scotus’s total separability thesis about matter and form—he would therefore reject

[SO3] It is possible that matter exists and form exists and that they do not compose a substance.

But [SO3] was used in QMet VIII, q. 4, n. 14 to argue that something must hap- pen to matter and form in order for them to compose a substance, which led eventually to

[S] A substance is a whole which is something in addition to its essen- tial parts.

Can [S] be held, then, if [SO3] is denied? I think Scotus’s answer would be affirmative. If [SO3] is false, then whenever matter and form exist they com- pose a substance. But this is not to say that all it is for matter and form to compose a substance is for both to exist. It could be that whenever matter and form exist they concurrently cause a substance which is a whole really dis- tinct from matter and form. Their existing and their causing would be simul- taneous but nevertheless naturally ordered—the existence would be prior to the causing, which is exactly what happens when supernatural causes do not intervene. In the language of QMet IX, the being of form and matter would still be naturally prior to their principiating or causing. And Scotus offers several additional arguments for the claim that a whole substance is really distinct from its matter and form, which do not depend on total separability.20

19 What Scotus cannot say, however, is that intrinsic causes are distinguished from extrinsic causes in that the former but not the latter become parts of their effect. He cannot say this because he has argued that all it is to be an essential part is to have an intrinsic causal relation to the whole. 20 These arguments are well analyzed by Richard Cross, “Duns Scotus’s Anti-Reductionistic Account of Material Substance,” Vivarium 33:2 (1995), pp. 137–170. See Ordinatio III,

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part II 73 vii Conclusions: Composing, and Composing

Here is a summary of the long argument for [S]. Scotus holds

[SO3] It is possible that matter exists and form exists and that they do not compose a substance.

So when matter and form do compose a substance, some change must occur, and

[SO4] The sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance is either the production of some entity or the destruction of some entity.

But

[O1] (=not-[S1]) It is not the case that the sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance is the pro- duction of some entity (other than matter and form). is false; therefore

[S1] The sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance is the production of some entity.

But

[SO5] The change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance cannot be the production of a relative form,

[SO6] The change that occurs when matter and form begin to compose a substance cannot be the production of an absolute form, and the relevant change cannot be the production of God, an angel, or matter, so

[S2] The sort of change that occurs when matter and form begin to com- pose a substance is the production of a whole substance.

d. 2, q. 2, nn. 74–77 (Vatican IX, pp. 149–150); Lectura III, d. 2, q. 2, nn. 81–83 (Vatican XX, p. 103).

74 Chapter 4

But this is almost surely not the production of a substance which is composed of some other matter and form, so

[SO7] Matter and form compose a substance if and only if matter and form are the intrinsic causes of the whole substance of which they are the essential parts.

And since

[S3] The effect of two intrinsic causes is something really distinct from those causes, taken individually or together; therefore

[S] A substance is a whole which is something in addition to its essen- tial parts.

Scotus begins from a general claim about unity and motivates his claim that a substance is more unified than an aggregate by arguing that the essential parts of a substance can meet the existence requirements of an aggregate and not be a substance. This is a negative characterization of the unity of substance, how- ever, in that it tells us what this unity cannot be. In the course of arguing for [S], Scotus limns a positive account of this unity. The heart of the positive account lies in Scotus’s idea that matter and form compose a substance by causing a substance. They are united as co-causes of a joint effect, and they are parts of their effect by being causally related to their effect. This chapter has explored part of Scotus’s answer to the familiar question about the conditions under which some things compose one thing. The sense of compose that is usually meant has to do with the special relation things are said to have when they are parts of a thing, and this is the sense of compose that has been assumed in this chapter. Another legitimate sense of com­ pose has to do with the activity of bringing something into existence, as in composing a sonnet or symphony. According to this second sense, one way in which some things compose one thing is through collaboration, for example when musicians get together to compose a song, or when poets jointly com- pose a poem. Of course, when metaphysicians ask the familiar question about composition they are asking about the parts of things. Thus, in the intended sense of the word, notes and not the musicians compose a song, words and not the poets compose a poem. The difference between these two senses is

How Matter and Form Compose a Substance—Part II 75 probably pretty clear, but the similarity is harder to get hold of. Given certain ideas about composition that were popular through most of the twentieth cen- tury, the connection between these two senses of compose is tenuous and to wonder whether parts compose by making is about as quaint and misleading as asking whether composers compose by becoming parts of their artworks.21 For Scotus, however, the connection is neither quaint nor misleading. While he would deny that composers become parts of their artworks, he does think that parts compose by making—composing in a very strong sense—the wholes of which they are parts.

21 I am thinking here of formal mereology, according to which anything is a part of some- thing just in case it exists. See Peter Simons, Parts: A Study in Ontology (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1987).

Chapter 5 Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—Part I

The last two chapters focused on essential parts—matter and substantial form—and considered Scotus’s account of how matter and form compose a substance. This chapter and the next focus on integral parts, specifically the integral parts of organisms, and develops a view about Scotus’s answer to the question, “How do organic parts—things like bones, flesh, hearts, livers, eyes, teeth, hands, and so on—compose one substance, an animal?” Scotus thinks that a substance is a composite of matter and substantial form, and he thinks that the substances include organisms like plants and animals, inorganic com- pounds such as bronze, and what he recognizes as the basic elements of such compounds: earth, water, air, and fire.1 Scotus is also a pluralist about substan- tial forms: he thinks that living composite substances are composed of matter and more than one substantial form.2 According to the common scholarly

1 Scotus also thought that there were immaterial substances, but for present purposes we can ignore these. In this chapter, therefore, by “substance” I just mean “material substance.” 2 Every medieval hylomorphist thought that there were a plurality of forms in a substance, viz., at least one substantial form and many accidental forms, where accidental forms modify a substance and a substantial form (together with matter) composes a substance. In this chap- ter I am not concerned with accidental forms except in an incidental way, so unless other- wise specified by “form” I mean “substantial form.” For some of the history of the medieval debate over the number of substantial forms in composite substances, see Roberto Zavalloni, “Étude Critique” in Richard de Mediavilla et la Controverse sur la Pluralité des Formes (Louvain: Éditions de L’institut Supérieur de Philosophie, 1951), pp. 213–504; Daniel A. Callus, “The Origins of the Problem of the Unity of Form,” in The Dignity of Science: Studies in the Philosophy of Science, ed. James A. Weisheipl (Washington, dc: Thomist, 1961), pp. 121–149; James A. Weisheipl, “ and Universal Hylomorphism: Avicebron (A Note on Thirteenth-Century Augustinianism),” in Albert the Great: Commemorative Essays, ed. F.J. Kovach and R.W. Shahan (Norman, ok: University of Oklahoma Press, 1980), pp. 239–260. For some views about Scotus’s place in this history, see Étienne Gilson, Jean Duns Scot: Introduction a ses Positions Fondamentales (Paris: Librairie Philosophique J. Vrin, 1952), pp. 490–497; Prospero Stella, L’ilemorfismo di G. Duns Scoto (Torino: Societa Editrice Internazionale, 1955), pp. 187–229; Efrem Bettoni, Duns Scotus: The Basic Principles of his Philosophy, trans. Bernardino Bonansea (Washington, dc: The Catholic University of America Press, 1961), p. 69; Marilyn McCord Adams, William Ockham, v.2 (Notre Dame, in: University of Notre Dame Press), pp. 633–670; R. Cross, The Physics of Duns Scotus: The Scientific Context of a Theological Vision (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998), pp. 47–76; Robert Pasnau, Metaphysical Themes 1274–1671 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2011) pp. 581–582.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2014 | doi 10.1163/9789004278974_007

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—Part I 77 view these substantial forms are a soul and a form of corporeity, where the form of corporeity is supposed to be the substantial form by which an animal is corporeal, and the soul is supposed to be the substantial form by which an animal is living. Fewer commentators have recognized that Scotus also thinks that what he and others call the integral parts of animals, things like livers and hearts, are themselves composites of matter and distinct kinds of substantial forms, a form of the liver, a form of the heart, and so on.3 It is not clear how this analysis of integral parts is supposed to cohere with the common view of Scotus’s analysis of essential parts, however. On these two analyses it appears that there is one form by which an animal is a body, and many other forms by which an animal has a heart, liver, bones, etc. But, intui- tively, if we have all of these integral parts, what more do we need in order to have a body? It seems redundant to suppose that the integral parts of an ani- mal have their own substantial forms, and that there is in addition to these another form by which an animal is a body. I argue that, for Scotus, it is redun- dant to suppose this. Scotus thinks that in a process of embryological develop- ment many substances are generated—a heart, blood, a brain, and all the rest of the organs—and under natural conditions these substances can be informed by a soul. The union of these substances with the soul is the last stage in the generation of a complete organism, whereby these substances become integral parts of one animal. For Scotus there is no substantial form of corporeity whose job it is to make a substance merely corporeal. In the following I develop and defend this interpretation of Scotus and offer an account of how Scotus thinks that many substances can be parts (part-substances, as I will call them4) of one substance. I start by providing some of the medieval background against which Scotus formed his position.

Avicebron’s Fons Vitae is generally recognized, both by modern scholars and by scholastics such as Albert the Great and Aquinas, as the source of the pluralist view, but the view is actu- ally much older than this, having been articulated by Alexander of Aphrodisias ca. 200 ad. See Alexander’s On the Soul 1.13, trans. A.P. Fotinis, in The De Anima of Alexander of Aphrodisias: A Translation and Commentary (Washington, dc: University Press of America, 1979), p. 9 (thanks go to Calvin Normore for pointing me towards Alexander). For Avicebron’s pluralism, see Fons Vitae II.8 and III.3.22, trans. John of Spain and Dominic Gundisalvi, ed. C. Baeumker (Munster: Aschendorff, 1895), pp. 37–39, 81. 3 Dorothea E. Sharp, Franciscan Philosophy at Oxford in the Thirteenth Century (London: Oxford University Press, 1930), pp. 311–313; Richard Cross, The Physics of Duns Scotus, pp. 68–71. 4 A part-substance is anything that is both a part of a substance and a substance. It is an admit- tedly awkward expression, but does a better job of conveying my meaning than more elegant expressions like partial substance or substantial part.

78 Chapter 5 i Unitarianism and Pluralism about Substantial Form

For most hylomorphists, including Scotus, it is standard to say that a living substance such as Mole is a composite of body and soul, where body is the mat- ter and soul is the substantial form, and where soul informs the body. But some medieval hylomorphists would quibble with this characterization of body and soul as the matter and form of an organism. Although Aquinas sometimes says that the soul unites with the body to compose an organism, he really does not think this.5 Instead, Aquinas thinks that the soul informs prime matter, an uncharacterized substratum of substantial change. He therefore thinks that soul and prime matter, rather than soul and body, are strictly speaking the essential parts of a composite substance. All of the essential properties of a substance like Mole, not just being animate but also being corporeal—are due to Mole’s sensitive soul.6 This entails that Mole’s body cannot exist indepen- dent from his soul, so when Mole dies his corpse is a substance (or substance- like object) both specifically and numerically distinct from Mole (and from any former part or parts of Mole). Like Aristotle, Aquinas affirms that Mole’s corpse is only homonymously Mole’s body, Mole’s severed paw only homonymously a paw.7 Aquinas also held that Mole’s soul does not begin to inform (prime mat- ter, the body) until his fetus has developed to a sufficiently advanced stage. He thinks therefore that there is some instant at which the substantial form of Mole’s fetus is replaced by Mole’s sensitive soul, resulting in the generation of a new substance.8 As for Mole so for any composite substance: Aquinas analyses it as a composite of prime matter and exactly one substantial form.9 We can call Aquinas’s view unitarianism about substantial form. Other medieval hylomorphists disagree with Aquinas’s unitarianism. Ockham holds, for example, that the body is itself a composite substance,

5 Aquinas, Summa theologiae Ia, q.76, a.1. 6 Aquinas, Summa theologiae Ia, q.76, a.4. 7 Aristotle, On the Soul II, c.1, 412b 10–24, (Barnes I, p. 657; Meteorology IV, c.12, 389b 30 – 390a 1 (Barnes I, p. 624); Generation of Animals II, c.1, 734b 24–35 (Barnes I, p. 1140); Aquinas, Summa theologiae III, q.50, a.5, corp. 8 Aquinas, De potentia Dei q.3, a.9, ad 9; Summa contra gentiles II, c.89, 11; Summa theologiae Ia q.119, a.2. 9 Strictly speaking a unitarian could deny that Mole has only one substantial form, for example if she denied that Mole is one substance (perhaps he is instead many substances). Traditionally, however, unitarianism as a metaphysical position was yoked with assumptions about what counted as substances, things like plants, animals, elements, and compounds of elements.

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—Part I 79 composed of prime matter and a form of corporeity. Soul informs the body, making it living, but its identity as a body is independent from the soul. On this analysis, therefore, the body persists when the organism dies; the corpse is both specifically and numerically the same body as the body of the living organism. In the case of rational animals, humans, Ockham argues that there is a total of three substantial forms: the form of corporeity, the sensitive soul, and the rational soul.10 And at least one medieval hylomorphist, , counted four substantial forms in a human: a form of corporeity together with vegetative, sensitive, and rational .11 For present purposes, we can consider Ockham’s and Richard’s views, along with others like them, a single view, standard pluralism about substantial form. Scotus rejects both unitarianism and standard pluralism. On his view the body is indeed an essential part of an organism, and in this sense he agrees with the standard pluralists against the unitarians. But Scotus denies that the body is a substance, and in this sense he agrees with the unitarians against the standard pluralists. Scotus thinks that the body is in fact composed of many different kinds of composite substances, corresponding to different integral parts, and thinks that some integral part-substances are themselves composed of integral part-substances (along with a substantial form). Following Aristotle, he thinks that heterogeneous parts—parts like faces, hands, hearts, and eyes— are partially composed of homogeneous parts—parts like bone, flesh, and blood.12 These substances compose one complete organism when they are together informed by the soul, and Scotus thinks that any organism, plant, brute, or human, has just one soul.13 We can call this version of pluralism about substantial form, Scotistic pluralism.14

10 Ockham is agnostic on the issue of whether the organic parts of animals have substantial forms of distinct kinds, but he is definitely committed to a plurality of forms. See Marilyn McCord Adams, William Ockham, v.2, pp. 633–670, and references to Ockham therein. For his agnosticism about the forms of organic parts, see Quodlibet III, q.6, (OTh IX, pp. 225–227). 11 Richard of Middleton, De Gradu Formarum, ed. R. Zavalloni, in Richard de Mediavilla et la Controverse sur la Pluralité des Formes, pp. 154–157. See also the discussion of Richard in Dorothea E. Sharp, Franciscan Philosophy at Oxford in the Thirteenth Century, pp. 235–239, and references therein. 12 Reportatio Parisiensis IV-A d.44, q.1, n.2, in (Wadding XI, p. 854); Aristotle, Parts of Animals II, c.1 646b 11–27 (Barnes I, p. 1006). 13 Ordinatio IV, d.44, q.1, n.4 (Wadding X, p. 98). 14 Scotus is not the first Scholastic to have held that individual integral parts of an organism have their own substantial forms. The editors of the Opera Philosophica point us to Peter John Olivi and Peter de Trabibus as early proponents of the view (Bonaventure IV, p. 382,

80 Chapter 5

Scotus considers several arguments for the view that integral parts are dis- tinct substances, not all of which he considers cogent. He presents several arguments that reason from distinction of functions and modal properties to distinction of substance, but finds reasonable rejoinders to each.15 He finds surer grounds for his claim in two additional arguments. First, Scotus argues that the fact that in embryological development some integral part are gener- ated temporally prior to other integral parts makes it probable that the coming to be of an integral part of an organism is a distinct substantial generation.16 Second, he argues that where two properties, F and G, cannot inhere in the same subject in exactly the same way, then the form by which a substance is F is numerically distinct from the form by which it is G. I discuss each of these arguments in greater detail below. Scotus recognizes that a major theoretical weakness of his view that the integral parts of a substance are distinct substances is that it is not clear how several substances should be able to compose one substance. For Aristotle and most Aristotelians, distinct objects can form a substantial unity only if one is potency and the other is act. As the Philosopher said, “A substance cannot con- sist of substances present in it actually (for things that are thus actually two are

fn.5). For Peter de Trabibus, see the texts printed in Hildebert Alois Huning, “The Plurality of Forms according to Petrus de Trabibus,” Franciscan Studies 28 (1968), pp. 137–196. For Olivi, see Peter John Olivi, Quaestiones in secundum librum Sententiarum, q.51, ed. Bernardus Jansen (Quarracchi, 1922). And after Scotus Henry of Harclay and Albert of Saxony held something similar to Scotus’s position. For Harclay, see Ordinary Questions VIII, ed. Mark Henninger (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), pp. 348–397. Regarding Albert, in his commentary on Aristotle’s On Generation and Corruption he holds that in the same substance there are “plures forme substantiales partiales distincte specie exis- tentes partes integrales unius forme totalis [sic],” and then refers the reader to his com- mentary on On the Soul for his view of the soul. See Duos libros de generatione et corruptione I, q.5, in Questiones et decisiones physicales insignium virorum [etc.], ed. Lokert (Paris, 1516), f.132v. Complete versions of the On the Soul commentary only exist in manu- script form; for information about the manuscripts, see Angel Muñoz Garcia, “Albert of Saxony, Bibliography,” Bulletin de Philosophie Médiévale 32 (1990), pp. 161–190. The portion of Albert’s On the Soul commentary published by Marshall does not deliver a determinate account of Albert’s pluralism (and Marshall himself is dubious about its attribution to Albert), but see Peter Marshall, “Parisian Psychology in the Mid-Fourteenth Century,” Archives d’histoire doctrinale et littéraire du moyen age 50 (1983), pp. 101–193. For other authors, see Pasnau, Metaphysical Themes: 1274–1671, pp. 630–632. 15 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, nn.11–18, in (Bonaventure IV, pp. 382–383). 16 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.38 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 389–390).

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—Part I 81 never actually one…).”17 Bronze and the form of a sphere can compose one bra- zen sphere, for example, because the bronze is in potency to that form.18 For the unitarian, prime matter and substantial form can compose one substance because prime matter is in potency to substantial form. And for the standard pluralist, body and soul can compose one substance because body is in potency to soul. On Scotistic pluralism, however, the potency-act analysis of composition is inapplicable to the sort of unity that, e.g., Mole’s heart and liver have when they (partially) compose Mole, even though Scotus wants to say that a heart and a liver can (partially) compose one substance. Whatever potency and act amount to, neither Scotus nor any Aristotelian of whom I am aware thought that one composite substance could be in potency to another composite substance.19 Scotus does think that the heart, liver, and other integral parts are together informed by Mole’s sensitive soul, and therefore thinks that the integral parts are together in potency to the soul. But this account of the substantial union of the soul with the integral parts leaves unresolved what it is for the integral parts to be together in potency. Why, for example, are this heart, this liver, these bones, and so on, in potency to Mole’s sensitive soul, and some other substances are not? Scotus thus presents himself with a theoretical challenge that unitarians and standard pluralists need not face. His response is that some substances are able to be informed by the soul if they have a special kind of unity, what Scotus calls a unity of order, which is the sort of unity that things have when one depends on another (in a technical sense of depends, which I elaborate below). ii Scotus against Unitarianism

Aquinas and Scotus shared a commitment to parsimony in theoretical matters, and both take parsimony to be a reason in favor of unitarianism.20

17 Aristotle, Metaphysics VII, c.13, 1039a 3–5 (Barnes II, p. 1640); this passage is quoted as the first objection to Scotus’s view that the integral parts of animals have distinct substantial forms. Scotus, Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.1 (Bonaventure IV, p. 381). 18 Aristotle, Metaphysics VIII, c.6, 1045a 21–36 (Barnes II, p. 1650). As for Aristotle so for Scotus, the brazen sphere is merely a heuristic tool for explaining hylomorphism: as an artifact, it is excluded from the class of genuine substances. 19 I qualify substance with composite in this sentence because Aristotle sometimes calls form and matter substances, and under this description it would be correct to say that a substance (matter) is in potency to another substance (form). Aristotle, Metaphysics VII, c.3, 1028b 33 – 1029a 7 (Barnes II, pp. 1624–1625). 20 Aquinas, Summa theologiae Ia, q.76, a.3,4, corp.; Scotus, Ordinatio IV, d.11, p.1, a.2, q.1, n.186, in (Vatican XII, p. 234). In Ordinatio IV, d.11, p.1, a.2, q.1, Scotus argues against the views of

82 Chapter 5

The unitarian thinks that a material substance, s, of some kind, K, has and can have just one substantial form, K-form, such that K-form united with the mat- ter of s gives s all of its essential perfections. But Scotus argues against Aquinas that a “contradiction in being” arises on the unitarian assumption. When Mole dies, says Scotus, the soul does not remain but the body does. He concludes that the form of the body is numerically distinct from the soul.21 The inference is unwarranted however, since, as Marilyn McCord Adams has pointed out, Scotus presumes what he is trying to prove: that the body remains.22 On the unitarian thesis a corpse is not identical with the body or any part of the body of the organism that precedes it. Mole, body and soul, has been corrupted, and a new substance with qualitative and quantitative features very similar to Mole’s has been generated—Mole’s corpse. According to Aquinas, the corrup- tion of an organism naturally tends toward dissolution to the elements,23 but there is a plurality of middle stages along the way to the elements—Aquinas identifies dead body and putrefied body as two separate stages—and each of these stages is itself a composite of matter and some imperfect or merely tran- sitional substantial form.24 The unitarian then is not committed to holding a blatant “contradiction in being,” as Scotus accuses him of holding. But in identifying Mole’s corpse as a newly generated substance, even an imperfect substance, the unitarian must confront two significant challenges: explaining how the corpse comes to be, and explaining how the corpse comes to be so very similar to Mole. If the corpse is a substance and is not identical with Mole’s body, it is something newly generated and therefore has an efficient cause. But it is not obvious what this efficient cause could be. Initially plausible is the suggestion that whatever is responsible for killing Mole is also responsible for generating the corpse, since in normal cases of generation an efficient cause brings about a new substance from some preexisting substance. But, according to Scotus, we would expect different kinds

Henry of Ghent as much as those of Aquinas. Henry of Ghent has an interesting view according to which only humans have a plurality of substantial forms. But as Aquinas’s views are better known, and as he is the most famous unitarian, I have found it conve- nient to focus on him. 21 Ordinatio IV, d.11, p.1, a.2, q.1, n.280 (Vatican XII, p. 265). Sic in proposito forma animae non manente, corpus manet; et ideo universaliter in quolibet animato, necesse est ponere illam formam, qua corpus est corpus, aliam ab illa, qua est animatum. 22 Marilyn McCord Adams, William Ockham v.2, p. 648; also in Richard Cross, The Physics of Duns Scotus, p. 56. 23 Aquinas, In de generatione et corruptione I, l.8, n.3; Summa theologiae III, q.50, a.5, corp. 24 Aquinas, In de generatione et corruptione I, l.8, n.3. Aquinas claims to derive his idea of imperfect forms from Avicenna’s Sufficienta. See Avicenna, The Metaphysics of

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—Part I 83 of killers to produce different kinds of corpses, and this is often not the case, for example, whether Mole drowns, is stabbed, or dies of illness, his corpse would appear to be of the same kind, or at least of a very similar kind.25 Francisco Suárez—a unitarian late in time—attempted to fill this explana- tory gap in the unitarian position by claiming that “heaven or the author of nature” is responsible for providing the substantial form of Mole’s corpse at the moment Mole passes away. In this Suárez was echoing a traditional way of resolving the problem of , where, e.g., maggots are generated from putrid flesh without any apparent efficient cause. The princi- ple at work seems to be this: where no sublunary efficient cause can explain a generation, a celestial efficient cause must be posited. Given the principle, Suárez’s extension of it to cases of corpse-production seems reasonable.26 Aquinas himself does not seem to have explicitly endorsed this view as a way to account for the generation of corpses, and I have not found any texts in which Aquinas posits an alternative theory. As far as I can tell, then, Aquinas tells us what corpses are (composites of matter and imperfect form) without telling us how they come about.27 Second, the unitarian must explain not only how the new substance comes to be, but also how it comes to be similar to Mole—it is black, furry, and the

The Healing VIII, c.2, n.15, trans. M.E. Marmura (Provo, ut: Brigham Young University Press, 2005), pp. 265–266. 25 Ordinatio IV, p.1, a.2, q.1, n.226 (Vatican XII, p. 246). 26 Francisco Suárez, Disputationes metaphysicae 18, 2, n.28, in Opera omnia, v.25, ed. Carlos Berton (Paris: Louis Vivès, 1861, pp. 608–609). The view that a heavenly body or God sup- plies what is lacking in the sublunary causal order has a long history. Aquinas offers a similar solution to the problem of spontaneous generation in Sententia libri Metaphysicae VII, l.8, nn.25–26. For some of the ancient context of the view, see Devin Henry, “Themistius and Spontaneous Generation in Aristotle’s Metaphysics,” Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy 24 (2003), pp. 183–208. 27 While Aquinas did not consider Suárez’s solution, Scotus certainly did (not, of course, under that description), since he invokes the same principle for the generation of all organisms whose sublunar efficient causes cause by means of seed on the grounds that the the form of seed is inferior to soul and therefore incapable of generating a living mate- rial substance. Cf. Scotus, Lectura II d.18, qq.1–2, n.37, in (Vatican XIX, p. 163); Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.12, nn.32–40 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 204–206); Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d.18, q.1, nn.11–12 (Wadding XI, pp. 354–355). Moreover, when Scotus argues for the existence of substantial forms of organs, he presents but then rejects an argument which uses exactly the same reasoning as the argument from contradiction, on the grounds that a “universal generator” could induce a new form at the moment the organ was removed from the body. Cf. Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, nn.11–12 (Bonaventure IV, p. 382).

84 Chapter 5 same size and shape as Mole. According to Aquinas accidents go down with the ship; if the substance is corrupted, so are the accidents, since accidents by nature inhere in, are individuated by, and (in non-miraculous cases) depend for their existence on not matter but substance.28 So in addition to holding that Mole’s corpse has a substantial form which was never a form of Mole, Aquinas must also hold that all of its accidents were never accidents of Mole. Suárez argued instead that quantity and some qualities do not depend on sub­ stance for their existence but on matter. Wherever the matter goes, therefore, so go those accidents. Since Mole’s matter survives Mole’s death (albeit not under the description “Mole’s matter”) and becomes the matter of a new sub- stance, Mole’s corpse, the accidents inhering in Mole’s matter survive Mole’s death, too.29 This move allows Suárez to explain the similarity of the corpse’s accidents to Mole’s—they are numerically identical—at the cost of making quantified matter play the role of substance without the title. The intuitive implausibility of the claim that Mole’s corpse is an entirely new substance with entirely new accidents, coupled with the difficulty of giv- ing an efficient causal account of the generation of this new substance with its new accidents, pushes strongly in favor of the pluralist position, Scotus’s hasty argument from “contradiction in being” notwithstanding. iii Scotus against Standard Pluralism

In his dispute with Aquinas, Scotus was concerned merely to show that living substances have at least one substantial form in addition to the soul. If this were all he was committed to, then it would be natural to think of the body as one substance informed by one substantial form of corporeity, where the form of corporeity is responsible not just for an organism’s being a body, but also for its being a body with a certain structure, with the sorts of integral parts requi- site for the life of an organism of some kind. Scotus’s view is more complicated than this, however, since he thinks that an organism’s integral parts are distinct kinds of substances, each with its own substantial form. This in itself does not

28 Aquinas, In de generatione et corruptione I, l.10, n.6. 29 Suárez, De generatione et corruptione d.1, q.4 (Padua ms. 133), f.37–39v, also in Francisco Suárez: “Der ist der Mann,” ed. S. Castellote (Valencia: Facultidad de Teología “San Vincente Ferrer,” 2004), pp. 490–492, hereafter cited using the convention: (Castellote, p.n); see the parallel discussion in Disputationes metaphysicae 15, 10, Opera Omnia, v.25, ed. C. Berton (Paris: Louis Vivès, 1861), pp. 536–557. Suárez credits the view to Diego Astudillo, De gen­ eratione et corruptione I, q.2, ed. N. Tyerri (Valladolid, 1532), f. v–ix.

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—Part I 85 entail that there is not a form of corporeity distinct from these several forms of organs, however, since it could be that the form of corporeity has some other role in composing an organism. Nor does it entail that the body is not one sub- stance. For example, Scotus considers whether the role of the form of corpore- ity might be to unify the integral parts, making them part-substances of one substance, the body, which is then ready to be informed by the soul. For rea- sons described later, however, Scotus rejects this thought. These considerations indicate that Scotus simply has no need for a form of corporeity in addition to the substantial forms of organs. It neither endows the integral parts with their respective functions, nor does it unify them. In this section I consider Scotus’s primary argument for denying that the form of corporeity endows the integral parts with their respective functions, an argument that I call the incompossibility argument. In QMet VII, q.20, Scotus asks whether the organic parts of animals have distinct substantial forms that are of different kinds.30 He argues that they do. In the course of arguing for his position Scotus presents and then criticizes an argument for the opposing positions [i] that there is just one substantial form in an animal, and [ii] that there are only two substantial forms in an animal. He identifies a principle shared by both views and attacks this principle en route to denying both [i] and [ii]. His presentation of these positions is not pellucid, but it is intelligible. Here is the text:

Another opinion, [i] that the form of corporeity31 precedes the soul (if there be another [substantial form]): it would be one for the whole, virtu- ally containing in itself many perfections on account of which [perfec- tions] it would perfect diverse parts of matter, and would constitute

30 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 381– 394). Although the explicit topic of this question is whether the integral parts of animals have distinct substantial forms, it is clear that Scotus thinks that an affirmative answer to this question entails an affirmative answer to the question about whether the integral parts of animals are distinct substances. See for example Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.38 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 389–390), and Lectura III, d.2, q.3, n.117 (Vatican XX, p. 113). 31 What I translate here as “form of corporeity” is actually “form of the mixed” (forma mixti) and “form of the mixture” (forma mixtionis). These latter two expressions are used fre- quently in Ordinatio IV, d.11, p.1, a.2, q.1, where they are interchangeable with “form of corporeity” (forma corporeitatis). Their interchangeability is evident throughout the whole question but especially in nn.285–286, (Vatican XII, pp. 267–268). Scotus does not use the expression forma corporeitatis in Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20.

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diverse incomplete organs, namely as imperfect and quasi-remote prin- ciples of diverse operations. Thus [ii] if the sensitive soul of the brute animal from its perfection includes the perfection of such a form of cor- poreity, and in addition to this its own [perfection], it will be able to be one really and many virtually. And according to diverse perfections virtu- ally contained, both properties of it and of the form of corporeity (if it includes it), it will be able to perfect diverse parts of matter and perfectly constitute diverse organs.32

[i] says that an animal has two substantial forms, one form of corporeity and one soul; it is a version of standard pluralism. [ii] is the unitarian view that an animal has just one substantial form, a soul. According to [i] a form of corpore- ity virtually contains the perfections of the different organic parts. By “virtually contains” Scotus means that while the form of corporeity itself does not have organic parts of different functions, it has the power or (in an archaic sense of the word) the virtue to compose a substance that does have such parts. By informing matter the form of corporeity makes a substance with incomplete organs, suitably disposed to be perfected by a soul. The soul then completes the organs, that is, it makes them fully functioning organs in the life of an animal. According to [ii] the soul does all the work that the form of corporeity is sup- posed to do in [i], plus its normal vivifying activity. The common assumption between these two views is:

[DP] One form virtually contains many perfections, and can give differ- ent perfections to different parts of matter.

Scotus has two objections to [dp]. First, it cannot explain how a substantial form gives one perfection to this part of matter and another perfection to that part.33 In other words it cannot explain how the parts have the particular structure they have. Why, for instance, does a substantial form give head

32 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.25 (Bonaventure IV, p. 385), Opinio alia: Quod forma mixti praecedens animam, si esset alia, ipsa esset una totius, virtualiter in se continens perfectiones multas, secundum quas perficeret diversas partes materiae, et constitueret diversa organa incompleta, scilicet principia imperfecta et quasi remota operationum diversarum. Quare si sensitiva animalis bruti ex perfectione sui includat perfectionem talis formae mixti, et praeter hoc propriam, poterit esse una realiter et multiplex virtualiter. Et secundum diversas perfectiones virtualiter contentas, tam proprias sibi quam fomae mixti—si eam includat—poterit diversas partes materiae perficere et diversa organa perfecte constitutere. 33 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.31 (Bonaventure IV, p. 387).

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—Part I 87 structure and neck structure to adjacent parts of matter rather than head structure and ankle structure? Second, [dp] cannot explain why a substantial form does not give all of the perfections that it can give to every part of mat- ter.34 Scotus thinks that the second objection is the more worrisome of the two, because he takes it to be impossible for the very same part of matter to have repugnant perfections: for example, a hand and an eye are both partially composed of matter, but plausibly the very same matter cannot have both eye structure and hand structure, since a hand needs to be stiff for grabbing and an eye needs to be soft for receiving sensory images. In light of this objection Scotus offers a refinement of [dp] on his oppo- nent’s behalf that is intended to explain how one form virtually containing many perfections can distribute its perfections to different parts of matter and can arrange the parts in the right way. Scotus suggests on his opponent’s behalf that a substantial form has both a virtual totality and a quantitative totality. As used here, virtual totality is the sum of all the perfections that a substantial form gives to matter, and quantitative totality is the structure of the distribu- tion of a form’s perfections. For example, on the unitarian view a sensitive soul makes a substance that has all the parts needed for sensing, for taking in nutri- ents and expelling waste, and for procreating, and additionally ensures that these parts are distributed and arranged in the appropriate way.35 Scotus finds two reasonable ways to interpret this modified version of [dp], and objects to both. First, it could be that in introducing the notion of quanti- tative totality the defender of [dp] is claiming that a substantial form has really distinct parts of different kinds, one part responsible for giving one perfection to one part of matter, and another part responsible for giving another perfec- tion to another part of matter. But this, says Scotus, simply amounts to the view that Scotus himself eventually defends, which is that the form of corporeity is just reducible to really distinct substantial forms that are parts of a unity of order: “What is the difference between this subtle opinion which seems to fol- low reason,” he rhetorically asks, “and the first [Scotus’s own opinion] which seems gross but consonant with sense?”36 Second, if the defender of [dp] is

34 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.32 (Bonaventure IV, p. 388). 35 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.33 (Bonaventure IV, p. 388). Scotus says in this passage that an intellective soul has only virtual totality, and therefore gives all of its perfections to every part of the matter that it informs. 36 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, nn.36–37 (Bonaventure IV, p. 389), Item, quae est differentia huius opinionis subtilis, quae videtur sequi rationem, et primae, quae videtur grossa et est sensui consona?

88 Chapter 5 not claiming that a substantial form has really distinct parts of different kinds, then a contradiction is supposed to ensue. Here is how the contradiction is supposed to ensue: Scotus holds that if two perfections are incompossible in the very same matter, then one and the same form cannot virtually contain those two perfections. The defender of [dp] agrees with Scotus that some pairs of perfections are incompossible in the same matter, but insists that the same form can virtually contain such a pair. Scotus’s task, then, is to show why the consequent is supposed to follow from the antecedent. Scotus asserts that two perfections are incompossible in some third thing if and only if they are repugnant to each other. He stipulates as a second premise that two or more things are in a third thing (insunt tertio) in exactly two ways: either when they are virtually contained by a form, or when they inform the same part of matter. (Logically speaking there could be other ways in which two or more things could be in a third, but Scotus discusses none of them here.) From these premises it follows that the reason that some pair of perfections is incompossible in the same matter—that they are repug- nant to each other—is equally the reason that those perfections cannot be virtually contained in a single form. But the defender of [dp] does hold that some pairs of perfections are incompossible in matter, and therefore is logi- cally committed to the view that one form cannot contain perfections that are incompossible in matter.37 The argument’s success depends on the truth of Scotus’s implied claim that there is at least one sense of being in that applies both to the way that perfec- tions are in matter and to the way that perfections are in a form, such that if two perfections cannot be in matter then they cannot be in form (and vice versa). An argument for this claim would have helped his cause; in its absence,

37 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.35 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 388–389), Contra ista: si perfectiones aliquae virtualiter contentae sunt incompossi- biles in materia, igitur et in forma continente. Probatio consequentiae: numquam est incompossibilitas aliquorum ut insunt tertio, nisi quia inter se sunt incompossibilia. Unde si album et nigrum non essent inter se repugnantia quin secundum proprias ratio- nes simul essent in aliqua essentia continente, ut in rubore, secundum proprias rationes possent idem perficere. “If the perfections of something virtually contained are incom- possible in matter, therefore also in the containing form. Proof of the consequence: there is never incompossibility of things as they belong to a third, unless because they are incompossible among themselves. Hence, if white and black were not repugnant to each other so that with their own distinctive natures they might be at the same time in some essence that contains them, for example, redness, they would with their own distinctive natures be able to perfect the same thing.” (Thanks go to Martin Tweedale for suggesting an improvement to the translation of the last sentence of this quotation.)

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—Part I 89 we are left to speculate. Unfortunately for Scotus there seems to be an impor- tant and relevant disanalogy between the way that perfections are in form and the way that forms are in matter. If matter is informed by some substantial form that virtually contains several perfections, say F and G, the result is a sub- stance that is F and G. But the form containing those perfections is not itself F and G, and in general forms are not characterized by the perfections that they virtually contain. Consider two repugnant perfections, being square and being circular. Obviously these cannot inhere in the very same matter, since the resulting object would simultaneously be circular and square. But if these are virtually contained in one form, it does not follow that that form is square and circular; it only follows that if that form informs matter then it makes some- thing that is square and circular. But it is exactly here that the objector’s notion of quantitative totality is supposed to do metaphysical work. The form con- taining the perfections of being square and being circular is also endowed with an abstract structure for how these perfections are arranged in matter, or so the objector claims. The form, let us say, makes one part of matter square and another part circular. Thus, on the supposition that forms have quantitative totality, the defender of [dp] can explain why a form does not give all of its perfections to every part of matter, contrary to Scotus’s second objection. Quantitative totality also furnishes the [dp]-defender with a way of explaining how a form gives structure to the parts of matter. Scotus’s incompossibility argument appears, therefore, to fail. Fortunately for Scotus, however, there is an additional reason in favor of Scotus’s rejection of [dp]. It is the thought that, if repugnant perfections can be virtually contained in one (non-complex) form, then every perfection can be vir- tually contained in one (non-complex) form. We might as well hold that the whole world is informed by one substantial form. But this spells doom for a hylo- morphic analysis of change, according to which form and matter (along with privation) are invoked as those principles of nature that explain qualitative and substantial change.38 For example, Socrates’s change from white to tan is par- tially explained as the loss of a form of whiteness and the acquisition of a form of tanness. Thus, on the view that there is simply one form of the world, or more modestly that whiteness and tanness can be virtually contained by one and the same form, we lose whatever original motivation we had to posit forms. Better to hold, then, as Scotus apparently does, that we distinguish between forms at least partially on the basis of opposed perfections. When two perfections cannot be actualized in the very same matter, we attribute them to two different forms.39

38 Aristotle, Physics I, 6–8 (Barnes I, pp. 323–328). 39 I discuss this argument in greater detail in Chapter 9.

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Fortunately for me, however, my aim here is neither to defend nor refute Scotus but merely to point out that his incompossibility argument signals his rejection of the idea that one form can account for the varied and incompati- ble perfections of an animal, whether this one form is a soul or a form of corporeity.40 iv An Inconsistent Position about the Form of Corporeity?

Despite his apparent rejection of the form of corporeity in favor of distinct substantial forms of organic parts in QMet VII, q.20, Scotus sometimes uses the expression form of corporeity and its synonyms to express his own views, so it is important to say something about how his apparent rejection of the form of corporeity in QMet VII, q.20 is consistent with passages in which he does not reject the form of corporeity. On my view, Scotus’s use of “form of corporeity” and similar expressions is shorthand for all of the substantial forms that com- pose the body, so I do not think that Scotus is inconsistent. Richard Cross

40 Scotus’s rejection of the form of corporeity in favor of many forms of integral parts pro- vides him with a nice response to one of Aquinas’s objections to pluralism—an objection that has some force against standard pluralism, and that Suárez later directed against Scotus himself. Aquinas and Suárez argued that pluralism entails that there could be a body that was not of any determinate kind, that was simply corporeal. From a pre- Cartesian, Aristotelian perspective, a body that is not of any kind is metaphysically unwel- come not just because it is difficult or impossible to conceive, but more importantly because it would tread a middle ground where a middle is excluded. On the Porphyrian Tree animate and inaminate exhaustively divide the genus body, so every body must be one or the other; moreover sensitive and nonsensitive exhaustively divide the genus ani- mate body, so every animate body must be one or the other. Against standard pluralism this seems like a good objection. Against Scotistic pluralism, however, this criticism misses the mark: according to Scotus there is no such thing as body as such. As deep as one wishes to analyze a substance’s compositional structure, one never arrives at a part that is simply a body. There is always a body of a certain kind: the heterogeneous parts (such as a heart, liver, or hand) composed of a substantial form together with homogeneous parts (such as flesh and bones), and the homogenous parts composed of prime matter and sub- stantial form. For Aquinas and Suárez’s objection, see Aquinas, Sententia libri Metaphysicae VII, l.12, n.9; Suárez, De generationes et corruptione d.1, q.2 (Castellote, p. 465), […] nam si forma constituens genus et speciem sunt distinctæ, posset separari inferior, servata supe- riori, ut posset separari anima, servata forma corporeitatis, et manere hoc corpus sub nulla specie corporis. “[…F]or if the forms constituting genus and species are distinct, the inferior can be separated, preserving the superior, as the soul can be separated, preserving the form of corporeity, and can remain this body under no species of body.”

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—Part I 91 thinks that Scotus is inconsistent, claiming that whereas QMet VII, q.20 holds that the forms of organs are really distinct parts of the form of corporeity, according to Ordinatio IV, d.11, q.3 the forms of organs are in potency to the form of corporeity.41 On my reading, while Ordinatio IV, d.11, q.3 is less explicit than QMet VII, q.20 about Scotus’s commitment to a plurality of forms of integral parts, and his rejection of a form of corporeity distinct from these, it is never- theless consistent with it. To show this, I consider three passages from Ordinatio IV, d.11, q.3, including the passage that Cross cites as proof of the inconsistency between this text and QMet VII, q.20. The first passage is Ordinatio IV, d.11, q.3, n.56. On Cross’s reading, Scotus claims that the presence of the organs is not necessary for the inherence of the form of corporeity.42 If correct, this would show that the form of corporeity is really distinct from the forms of organic parts, since the former could exist without the latter. I do not think that this is the correct reading, however. In context, Scotus is discussing some general features of what it is for a body to be properly disposed for receiving the intellective soul. A body needs to be dis- posed in a certain way if it is to be informed by the soul, but the particular grades of qualities necessary for the soul to inform the body are not necessary for the form of corporeity to inform matter. The body could have some other grades of qualities, suitable for it to go on existing, even if these make the body unsuitable for being informed by the intellective soul. Scotus writes,

For the animation by the intellective soul there is needed a heart and liver of determinate heat, a brain of determinate frigidity, and so on for individual organic parts. But such a disposition ceasing, there can still remain some species or quality which stays with the form of corporeity, although not that which is required for the existence and operation of the intellective soul in matter.43

Scotus does not say here that the organs can cease to exist while the form of corporeity remains united with matter. He says instead that the grades of the qualities of the organic parts can cease to be suitable for the intellective soul

41 Richard Cross, The Physics of Duns Scotus, p. 69. 42 Richard Cross, The Physics of Duns Scotus, pp. 69–70. 43 Ordinatio IV, d.11, p.1, a.2, q.1, n.284 (Vatican XII, p. 267), Istud patet exemplo, quia ad ani- mationem ab intellectiva requiruntur cor et hepar determinate calida, cerebrum cetermi- nate frigidum, et sic de singulis partibus organicis; tali autem dispositione cessante, potest adhuc manere aliquas species vel qualitas, quae stat cum forma mixtionis, licet non illa quae requiritur ad esse et operationem intellectivae in materia.

92 Chapter 5 even if they are suitable for the body. Presumably this is how Scotus would describe the death of an organism where the body remains intact but is no longer alive. In the second passage, Scotus argues against what he takes to be Henry of Ghent’s view that one potency in matter entails that only one substantial form can actualize that potency. Scotus agrees with Henry that the natural genera- tion of a substance is completed by exactly one substantial form, but insists that this final generation may be preceded by several generations of parts each of which has its own substantial form. Then he gives an example:

For example: if organic parts are posited as differing according to sub- stantial forms, then the generation of one precedes, not only by nature but also temporally, both the generation of other parts and that genera- tion which is simply the generation of the whole, namely [that genera- tion] by which the form of the whole is induced, the forms of all the parts already presupposed.44

Here the view is that some organic parts are generated prior to others and prior to the generation of the whole substance. Scotus’s use of “form of the whole” here could be read either as the final perfecting substantial form, or as the whole substance itself which is produced by the concurrent causality of the essential parts. On either reading, however, Scotus has in mind that change by which the whole complete substance is brought about, and not that by which a form of corporeity is brought about. In the third and final, Scotus, replying to Aquinas’s worry that a plurality of substantial forms compromises the unity of a substance, writes,

I concede that the formal existence of the whole composite is principally through one form, and that form is that by which the whole composite is this being. But that form is the last, coming to all the preceding. And in this way the whole composite is divided into two essential parts in proper act, namely the last form by which it is that which it is, and the proper potency of that act which includes prime matter with all the preceding forms […] An example of this is in a composite of integral parts; for, the

44 Ordinatio IV, d.11, p.1, a.2, q.1, n.238 (Vatican XII, p. 250), Exemplum huius est si ponantur partes organicae differre secundum formas substantiales: tunc enim generatio unius praecedit non solum natura sed etiam tempore generationem alterius partis, et etiam generationem illam quae est simpliciter generatio totius, qua scilicet inducitur forma totalis praesuppositis iam formis omnium partium.

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—Part I 93

more perfect the animate thing, the more it requires a plurality of organs, and it is probable that [they are] distinct kinds through substantial forms.45

Clearly this text is at least consistent with Cross’s view, since it could be that “all the preceding forms” refers to all of the forms of organic parts as well as a sepa- rate form of corporeity. It is suggestive however that Scotus’s example of his view makes no reference to a separate form of corporeity but only to integral parts, which “probably” have distinct substantial forms of distinct kinds. The “last form” clearly refers to the final perfecting substantial form or soul, and not a form of corporeity. Despite these textual considerations, I do not think that Ordinatio IV, d.11, q.3, taken on its own, presents a determinate view about the relation between the form of corporeity and the forms of organic parts. Scotus’s explicit conclu- sion is that in a living substance such as Christ, there is in addition to matter and soul, at least one form of corporeity.46 And the conclusion from the argu- ment from contradiction is simply, “It is necessary to posit that form, by which the body is a body, distinct from that by which it is animate.”47 Both of these texts are consistent with Cross’s view, and the use of the singular (that form) in the second reference could be taken to lean in favor of his view. Equally plau- sible, however, is that the unity of the form of corporeity—the unity by which it is one—is just the special sort of unity that the substantial forms of organic parts have, and this is the natural way to read the text in light of QMet VII, q.20. As I read the texts, what is merely adumbrated in Ordinatio IV, d.11, q.3, is crys- tallized in QMet VII, q.20. In the following chapter I offer a close reading of this question which is intended to establish that Scotus abandons the forma corpo­ reitas as it is traditionally conceived, in favor of substantial forms of many organic parts.

45 Ordinatio IV, d.11, p.1, a.2, q.1, n.252 (Vatican XII, pp. 255–256), Concedo quod totale “esse” totius compositi est principaliter per formam unam, et illa est forma, qua totum composi- tum est “hoc ens”; illa autem est ultima, adveniens omnibus praecedentibus; et hoc modo totum compositum dividitur in duas partes essentiales: in actum proprium, scilicet in ultimam formam, qua est illud quod est, et in propriam potentiam illius actus, quae includit materiam primam cum omnibus formis praecedentibus […] Exemplum huius est in composito ex partibus integralibus: quanto enim animatum est perfectius tanto requirit plura organa, (et probabile est quod distincta specie per formas substantiales. [My emphases.] 46 Ordinatio IV, d.11, p.1, a.2, q.1, n.285 (Vatican XII, pp. 267–268). 47 Ordinatio IV, d.11, p.1, a.2, q.1, n.280 (Vatican XII, p. 265).

Chapter 6 Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—Part II i The Special Potency Question

Having divided up the bodies of animals into many different substances, Scotus tries to find a way to maintain that one animal is still one substance. Scotus thinks that some substances are part-substances of Mole just in case they are informed by Mole’s sensitive soul, and in general thinks that some substances become part-substances of another substance when there is some substantial form informing those substances. Substantial form is therefore Scotus’s answer to (a suitably paraphrased version of) van Inwagen’s Special Composition Question: under what conditions do some substances compose a substance?1 But Scotus does not think that a substantial form can inform just any assortment of substances; he thinks instead that there are at least two restrictions on the composition of substances. First, if some substances p1…pn can be informed by a substantial form of a kind, K, they themselves are of the appropriate kinds. A Mole-soul cannot inform my briefcase and the Eiffel Tower, for example, since these cannot support the activities of a mole. Second, p1…pn must be unified in some way. Suppose we have two mole fetuses, one right here and another over there; the bottom half of one and the top half of the other are not able to be informed by one and the same Mole-soul, since they do not have the right sort of unity. Scotus therefore asks a second question about composition, which presupposes his answer to the Special Composition Question, and which we might call the Special Potency Question: under what conditions are some substances able to be informed by a unifying substantial form? Scotus’s answer is that some substances can be informed by a substantial form just in case they are of the appropriate kinds and are unified in what he calls a unity of order. Being of the appropriate kinds, in this context, means being the sorts of things that a complete substance requires in order to per- form its specific functions; Mole, for example, needs certain organs for his sen- sitive and vegetative functions. Unity of order (unitas ordinis) is a technical term. I will have much more to say about this kind of unity below but for now it is worth noting that Scotus thinks that if two or more things are so united then they have more unity than the parts of an aggregate (such as a pile of

1 Peter van Inwagen, Material Beings (Ithaca, ny: Cornell University Press, 1990), p. 21.

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2014 | doi 10.1163/9789004278974_008

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—part ii 95 bricks), but less unity than the parts of a unity of inherence (the unity that holds between a subject and its accident).2 In this section I motivate Scotus’s answer to the Special Potency Question. I do this, first, by analyzing an argu- ment—what I call the unity argument—that Scotus presents on his opponent’s behalf, which aims to show that an animal cannot be a substantial unity on the supposition that its parts are distinct substances; second, I present Scotus’s response to the argument. An assumed premise of the unity argument is that an animal is more unified than a mere aggregate, such that any account of the parts of animals that does not preserve this difference in degree of unity is ipso facto a bad account. This is intended to be uncontroversial: there is some intuitive appeal to the idea that, say, the heart, lungs, bone, liver, and so on of Mole compose something more unified than the assortment of bricks in a pile of bricks, or an assortment of organs in an organ bank, even if it is hard to pin down exactly what this greater unity is supposed to amount to. Scotus himself accepts the premise. The first part of the argument reads as follows:

That opinion [of Scotus’s, viz., that the organic parts of animals have distinct substantial forms of different kinds], if it posits some unity in the animal beyond aggregation (the way in which a heap of stones is one), it is necessary that one posit one of three modes: either [a] that its unity is from a final form, namely the sensitive soul, which is simply one kind in the whole, although extended per accidens through the exten- sion of the whole; or, [b] that before that there is posited one form of corporeity, which is a disposition for the sensitive soul; or, [c] the third mode, that there is not a form that is of one kind, but only forms of many kinds, from which one form is integrated, by which there is a unity of composite.3

2 For Scotus’s list of kinds of unity, see Ordinatio I, d.2, p. 2, qq.1–4, n.403 (Vatican II, pp. 356–357). 3 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.19 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 383– 384), Ista opinio si ponat aliquam unitatem in animali praeter aggregationem—quo modo unus est acervus lapidum—oportet quod uno trium modorum ponat—Vel quod eius unitas sit ab ultima forma, scilicet anima sensitiva, quae sit simpliciter una specie in toto, licet extensa per accidens ad extensionem totius—Vel quod ante istam ponatur una forma mixti, quae sit dispositio ad sensitivam—Vel tertio modo, quod nulla est ibi una forma specie, sed tantum multae specie, ex quibus integratur una forma a qua est unitas compositi. (I have profited from Martin Tweedale’s suggested translation of the part of the quotation following tertio modo.).

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[a] expresses the view that various organic parts are unified when they are informed by one soul. [b] expresses the view that there is an intermediary form—the form of corporeity—between the forms of organic parts and the soul, such that the form of corporeity unifies the organic parts and makes them capable of receiving the soul. [c] holds that the many different kinds of forms of organic parts are “integrated” such that they make up a single form, which unites with matter to compose one substance. [c] does not collapse into a version of [a] or [b] because in [c] the forms of integral parts are unified, not the integral parts themselves. The opponent continues the unity argument by showing that [a], [b], and [c] do not adequately explain the unity of the organic parts. Against [c] the opponent invokes the closing lines of Metaphysics VII, in which Aristotle argues for something in addition to the letters, A and B, that explains their jointly composing the syllable, AB.4 Here Aristotle calls this additional something substance (οὐσία) but the opponent refers to it as that which is act with respect to the parts, suggesting that he took Aristotle’s use of substance (in this passage) as synonymous with substantial form. Taking Aristotle’s cue the objector reasons by analogy that the forms of organic parts would become one form only if there could be some higher-order form that unifies them, just as the letters become one syllable only if there is a form that unifies them. But, the objector continues, a form cannot inform forms. Therefore distinct forms cannot compose one form (contrary to [c]). The sec- ond premise holds given the general scholastic thesis that a form is act and not in potency to receive the act of an additional form. Therefore [c] cannot explain how organic parts compose a substantial unity. One natural modification of [c] is that an additional substantial form uni- fies the integral parts themselves, and not their forms. [a] and [b] are two such modifications of [c]: each posits a substantial form that unifies the organic parts, making them part-substances of an animal. But according to the oppo- nent both [a] and [b] face difficulties as well:

Both are disproved though this argument: For a unity of perfection there is presupposed one proper perfectible, such that the proper unity of the perfectible is presupposed by the unity of perfection and is not from it. How will you give such a unity in that which is perfectible by the sensitive [soul], according to the first way, or in that which is perfectible by the form of the mixture, according to the second? It does not seem possible.5

4 Aristotle, Metaphysics VII, c.17, 1041b 11–33 (Barnes II, p. 1644). 5 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.21 (Bonaventure IV, p. 384), Uterque improbatur per hanc rationem: unius perfectionis est unum perfectibile proprium

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—part ii 97

The opponent reasons that something is in potency to receive a substantial form only if it is already unified in some way. “Unity of perfection” in general refers to the sort of unity that a form, whether substantial or accidental, makes with its subject. In the text it refers specifically to the unity that a substantial form and its subject have. The “perfectible” in general refers to that which is in potency to a form, and in the text it refers specifically to that which is in potency to a substantial form. “Proper unity” is used here in a vague way. At minimum it refers to whatever sort of unity several substances must have if a substantial form can perfect them. From the argument against [c] we can infer that this proper unity is something less than substantial unity, because there the opponent claims that substantial unity only comes about through substan- tial form. We can also assume that proper unity is greater than aggregative unity, since aggregates are indifferent to the precise arrangement of their parts, and also to the kinds to which their parts belong, whereas the proper unity of a perfectible is indifferent to neither. The arguments against [a] and [b] close the unity argument. Since Scotus accepts the opponent’s view that substances must be unified in some way if they are in potency to a substantial form, the unity argument leaves him with the formidable challenge of providing some sort of unity that is less than substantial but more than aggregative. Scotus’s response to the challenge is difficult and (I think) ultimately impossible to understand without recourse to texts other than QMet, but here it is:

To [the unity argument] I respond: material parts, which are called ele- ments at the end of [Metaphysics] VII [1041b 11–16], do not have as much unity before they receive form as they have from form; just as A and B in themselves [do not have as much unity] as they have from the form of the syllable. Therefore a unity of order among the parts of matter in regard to the unbounded form suffices in some way, namely that the whole matter from those [parts] may have an order to such a form as to an adequate act, in regard to which no part of matter would be adequate potency.6

praesuppositum, ita quod illa propria unitas unius perfectibilis praesupponitur unitati per- fectionis, nec est ab ea. Quam talem unitatem dabis in perfectibili sensitivae, secundum pri- mam viam; vel in perfectibili formae mixtionis, secundum secundam? Non videtur possibile. 6 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.48 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 392– 393), [P]artes materiales, quae vocantur elementa in fine VII, non habent tantam unitatem antequam recipiant formam quantam habent a forma; sicut a et b in se, quantam habent a forma syllabae. Sufficit igitur respectu formae illimitatae aliquo modo unitas ordinis in par- tibus materiae, scilicet quod tota materia ex illis ordinem habeat ad talem formam ut ad actum adaequatum, respectu cuius nulla pars materiae esset potentia adaequata.

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Scotus calls this unity, a unity of order, which is supposed to be immune to the argument against [a] and [b] insofar as the organic parts are more unified than the parts of an aggregate, and simultaneously immune to the argument against [c], since it is the integral parts and not their forms that have a unity of order. It is clear from context that by “material parts” Scotus does not have prime matter in mind, and that by “elements” he does not have earth, water, air, and fire in mind. Instead, he means those organic parts which when properly united are in potency to the soul and in this sense are material, just as A and B are the matter of the syllable, AB. The “unbounded form” is the soul or perfect- ing substantial form prior to its reception in the body. Several substances together are “perfectible” by a substantial form, then, if there is some unity of order among them.7 ii Essential Orders

So what is this unity of order? The expression unitas ordinis and its inflected variants do not occur often in Scotus’s corpus. In a brief taxonomy of kinds of

7 A slight twist to my translation of Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.48 yields a very different position, so it is worth defending my take in a little more detail. In my translation (and in Wolter and Etzkorn’s) the paragraph employs two notions of order: the unity of order that obtains among the material parts, and because they are so ordered, the order that that material parts have as to their adequate act. But the Latin could permit a reading according to which only one notion of order is employed: the unity of order of all the material parts (taken together) to the substantial form. An anonymous reader sug- gests that this is the correct way to read the passage. From context, however, it is clear that this alternate reading won’t do. The unity argument revealed a weakness in Scotus’s position that organic parts have their own substantial forms, namely, that these part-substances must be sufficiently unified before they can together be informed by a substantial form. For his view to stand up, Scotus must offer an adequate account of the unity of these part-sub- stances. n.48 presents Scotus’s solution to the problem: the part-substances are more than just an aggregate and they are less than a substance; they are instead a unity of order, and because of this order they can together be informed by a substantial form. On the reading espoused by my anonymous referee, Scotus simply asserts what his opponent denies, namely that several substances can be informed by a substantial form. On my reading Scotus is offer- ing the conditions under which several substances can be informed by a substantial form, conditions which are developed precisely to address and dispel his opponent’s objection. I therefore see no reason to adopt the alternative reading of the paragraph. For Wolter and Etzkorn’s translation see Scotus, Questions on the Metaphysics of Aristotle, v.2, translated by Girard J. Etzkorn and Allan B. Wolter (St. Bonaventure, ny: Franciscan Institute Publications, 1998), p. 339.

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—part ii 99 unity in Ordinatio I, Scotus says simply that a unity of order is a greater unity than an aggregate and a lesser unity than a relation of informing.8 But this is not very helpful to us, since we have already gathered that part-substances must be more unified than an aggregate and less unified than a unity of perfec- tion. Intuitively, the relevant sort of unity that some parts must have in order to be potentially alive is a kind of cohesion and/or organization. We will not get a mole simply by heaping together some mole parts; we need them to be properly related or ordered to one another. I suggest that we can get a richer sense of this proper order by attending to Scotus’s use of “unity of order” in his late treatise, De Primo Principio.9 When he talks of a unity of order in this work—and he discusses unity of order far more here than in other works—he has in mind the unity that obtains among the relata of the relations essentially prior and essentially posterior. Thus, x and y have a unity of order if and only if one is essentially prior to the other. For example, Scotus says that the world is a unity of order because everything in the world is essentially ordered both in terms of perfection and of dependence.10 Also, the —final, effi- cient, material, formal—are essentially ordered in the production of their joint effect, and therefore compose a unity of order.11 Plausibly then when Scotus says that part-substances are sufficiently unified for receiving substantial form if they compose a unity of order, he means that these parts are in some sense essentially ordered to one another. But Scotus identifies several different kinds of essential orders, and it is not obvious just how part-substances are supposed to be essentially ordered to one another, at least in a way that is relevant to their joint functioning as the mate- rial cause of a material substance. Scotus’s text is unfortunately silent about precisely what order he had in mind. Nevertheless, through some careful read- ing of De Primo Principio it is possible to fill out Scotus’s account of the unity of part-substances in a way that is faithful to Scotus’s deep metaphysical com- mitments, and presents Scotus in QMet VII, q.20, n.48 simply as alluding to a

8 Ordinatio I, d.2, p. 2, qq.1–4, n.403 (Vatican II, pp. 356–357). 9 The work is now generally assumed to be very late. Likely it is a compilation, done with the help of a secretary, of writings taken from the first book of Ordinatio, a relatively late work. For discussion of On the First Principle’s genesis, see Allan B. Wolter, A Treatise on God as First Principle (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1966), pp. ix–xiii; hereafter cited by the convention: (Wolter, p.n). For clear exposition of Scotus’s theory of essential orders, see Marilyn McCord Adams, “Essential Orders and Sacramental Causality,” in John Duns Scotus, Philosopher: Proceedings of “The Quadruple Congress” on John Duns Scotus, ed. Mary Beth Ingham and Oleg Bychkov (Münster: Aschendorff Verlag, 2010), pp. 191–206. 10 De Primo Principio III.49 (Wolter, pp. 25–27, 65). 11 De Primo Principio II, 30 (Wolter, pp. 25–27).

100 Chapter 6 well-developed metaphysical view rather than reaching for an ad hoc solution. To this end, in this section I elaborate the main features of essential orders, and in the following section I apply the framework of essential orders to the unity of order of organic parts, raising and then responding to an objection to this application. Scotus divides essential orders into two sorts: an order of eminence and an order of dependence.12 Only the second is relevant here. In an essential order of dependence, x’s being prior to y is a matter of y depending on x. Scotus distin- guishes six types of orders of essential dependence. Each of the four Aristotelian causes is essentially prior to its correlative: anything that is ordered to an end is essentially dependent on a final cause; any effect is essentially dependent on an efficient cause; anything made of matter is essentially dependent on a material cause; and any formed thing is essentially dependent on a formal cause.13 The remaining two essential orders of dependence—what we might call nonevident essential orders14—hold among effects of a common cause. In the following I briefly discuss, first, some general features of essential orders, next, the causal essential orders, and finally the nonevident essential orders. In the most general sense, x and y are essentially ordered if and only if either x is essentially prior to y and y is essentially posterior to x, or y is essentially prior to x and x is essentially posterior to y.15 Relations of essential priority and posteriority are transitive (if x is essentially prior to y and y is essentially prior to z then x is essentially prior to z), but noncircular (if x is essentially prior to y then y is not essentially prior to x) and irreflexive (x is not essentially prior or posterior to itself).16 It can and frequently does turn out that some x is essen- tially prior to some y in one kind of essential order, but essentially posterior to y in a different kind of essential order. For example, Scotus thinks that matter is essentially prior to form in the essential order of dependence, but essentially posterior to form in the order of eminence.17 Not every causal relation is an essential order of dependence. In the orders of final and efficient causality, Scotus distinguishes essentially from acciden­ tally ordered causal series.18 In an accidentally ordered causal series, an effect does not depend on its cause in its causing. In Scotus’s example, a son can

12 De Primo Principio I.6 (Wolter, p. 5). 13 De Primo Principio I.15 (Wolter, p. 9). 14 The label was suggested to me by Marilyn McCord Adams, riffing on Scotus’s own descrip- tion of these orders as nec in se patet. 15 De Primo Principio I.5 (Wolter, p. 3). 16 De Primo Principio II.2–7 (Wolter, p. 15). 17 De Primo Principio II.32 (Wolter, p. 27). 18 De Primo Principio III.11 (Wolter, p. 47).

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—part ii 101 procreate whether or not his parents are alive.19 In an essentially ordered causal series an effect does depend on its cause in its causing. For example, a paintbrush and a painter are efficient causes of a painting, but the paintbrush depends for its causality (i.e., its stroking the canvas with paint) on the causal- ity of the painter (i.e., her moving the brush in the appropriate way). As an example from the order of final causality, if Mole and Rat are paddling the boat up the river in order to find a quiet spot for a picnic, then their paddling is essentially ordered to finding a quiet spot for a picnic—for the sake of finding a spot for a picnic they are paddling, and they would not be paddling were it not for finding a spot for a picnic. I am not sure how to describe an accidentally ordered final causal series, however, and Scotus does not offer an example of an accidentally ordered final causal series.20 Essential orders are also distinguished from accidental orders in that all the causes of an essentially ordered causal series are simultaneous in their caus- ing.21 To see why Scotus thinks this, imagine three terms in an essentially ordered causal series, c1, c2, and c3, such that c1 causes c2 and c2 causes c3. If c2 and c3 were not simultaneous, then c2 would be either before or after its effect.

Obviously it would not be after its effect. If it were before its effect, then c1 would be causing c2 to cause c3 for some period of time during which c2 was not causing c3—a contradiction. At least some essentially ordered items are not just things but things insofar as they are causing.22 For example, an end is a (final) cause not because it causes the efficient cause, but because it causes the causality of the efficient cause, insofar as the end is desired and is therefore that for the sake of which the efficient cause (efficiently) causes. Similarly, the efficient cause produces a material substance by causing the causality of the matter and the form, the product of which is the material substance itself. In nonevident essential orders, essential dependence relations obtain among two or more effects of some common cause. According to Scotus,

19 De Primo Principio III.14 (Wolter, p. 49). 20 The problem is that I cannot conceive how the mere existence of x could be for the sake of y (that is, how y could be the final cause of x and not some activity of x). Final causality appears to me to be inextricable from action in a way that efficient causality is not. I do not have any conceptual hang-ups, for example, with the idea that Mole’s parents are simply the efficient causes of Mole. Even in the theological context in which Scotus was at home, according to which everything exists for God’s sake, is it not that what is really meant is that everything (ultimately) acts for God’s sake? But the difficulties raised here will have to wait their turn. 21 De Primo Principio III.11 (Wolter, p. 47). 22 De Primo Principio II.33 (Wolter, pp. 27–29).

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If one and the same cause [z] produces a dual effect [x and y], one of which [x] is such that by its nature it could be caused before the other [y] and therefore more immediately, whereas the second [y] can be caused only if the first [x] is already caused, then I say that the second effect [y] is posterior in the order of essential dependence whereas the more immediate effect [x] of the same cause [z] is prior.23

Notice that Scotus here leaves it open as to whether x is itself a cause of y; he says only that y essentially depends on x in such a way that z must cause x before it can cause y. Among the nonevident essential orders of dependence, Scotus distinguishes proximate from remote nonevident essential orders of dependence (I will refer to these as [pneo] and [rneo], respectively). x and y are in a [pneo] if and only if x and y are effects which are essentially ordered to their cause, z, and z could not cause y unless it first caused x. r and t are in a [rneo] if and only if r and s are effects which are essentially ordered to their cause, q, and s could not cause its effect, t, unless q first caused r.24 By distinguishing two types of nonevident essential dependence ([pneo] and [rneo]), Scotus does not provide much by way of guidance for identifying what the relata of such orders might be. He is not completely silent on this issue, however. If x essentially depends on y (for its existence, for its causing) but x is not a final, efficient, formal, or material cause of y, then x and y stand either in a [pneo] or a [rneo]. Using Scotus’s own example, suppose that a qualitative form (such as a color form) essentially depends on a form of quan- tity in the sense that something must be extended if it is to be colored. They are effects of a common cause in the sense that an efficient cause causes some- thing that is both quantified and colored. Scotus says that while quantity is an effect more immediate than quality, “It is not the cause of quality, as is evident if we go through the causes.”25 We are still inclined to say that a thing must be extended if it is to be colored, however, so we say that color non-causally (non- evidently) depends on quantity in a [pneo].26

23 De Primo Principio I.11 (Wolter, p. 7). 24 De Primo Principio I.13 (Wolter pp. 7–9); in these formulations of [pneo] and [rneo] I am assuming noncircularity and irreflexivity since these hold for all essential orders. 25 De Primo Principio II.36 (Wolter, p. 29). 26 Scotus’s denial in De Primo Principio II.36 that quantity is a cause of quality, even a mate- rial cause of quantity, seems inconsistent with aspects of his eucharistic metaphysics. For example, in Ordinatio IV, d.12, p. 1, q.2 (Vatican XII, pp. 330–348), Scotus argues that in , where the substance of bread and wine are converted to the body and blood of Christ but the accidents of bread and wine remain numerically and specifically the same and do not become accidents of the body and blood of Christ, quantity is the

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—part ii 103 iii Essentially Ordered Unity

Applying this procedure to the question about the sort of unity of order that organic parts are supposed to have, it is clear that they could not be related causally to one another as formal or material causes. One substance—a heart, for example—can be a (partial) material cause of Mole in the sense that the heart, when suitably unified with other organic parts, can receive a substantial form and become a part of Mole. But a heart cannot be a material cause of a liver or of any other part-substance, since the heart neither becomes a part of, nor becomes, a liver. Nor can a substance be the formal cause of another sub- stance, since it is of the wrong ontological kind—only forms are formal causes. But there are reasons to think that part-substances—or at least some of them—are essentially ordered to one another in both final and efficient causal series. Scotus hints that this is what he has in mind in QMet VII, q.20, n.38, where he invokes Aristotle’s authority for the view that in the generation of blooded animals the heart is formed prior to other parts:

According to the Philosopher the heart is generated first—even tempo- rally—before the other parts of an animal. And he would assign in the generation of an animal—speaking of the whole—many complete changes to many forms of parts, one before the other in time.27

In at least one important passage in which Aristotle expresses this view, he says not only that the heart is generated first but also that it is an efficient cause of the generation of the other parts, and is generated for the sake of other parts.28 Scotus’s allusion to Aristotle’s embryology strongly suggests that he would endorse Aristotle’s idea that organic parts are causally ordered to one another. In the following I limn these two ways in which Scotus might have thought that the parts of an animal are essentially ordered, starting with final causality. First, there is good reason to think the unity of order that obtains among several part-substances is the unity of an essentially ordered final causal series.

subject of quality. Within Scotus’s metaphysics and in general scholastic Aristotelian metaphysics, it is not clear how x could be the subject of y without x being a material cause of y. Whether this signals a change of mind is a question I leave for others to answer. 27 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.38 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 389–390), Secundum Philosophum cor primo generatur—etiam tempore—ante alias partes animalis. Et esset assignare in generatione animalis—loquendo de tota—multas mutationes completas ad multas formas partium, unam ante aliam tempore. 28 Aristotle, On the Generation of Animals II, c.5, 739b 32 – 740a 24; c.6, 742b 3–5 (Barnes I, pp. 1148, 1152).

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On this view, two part-substances are unified just if one is, or comes to be, or acts, for the sake of another. On Scotus’s understanding of final causality, if pro- ducing blood and blood vessels are final causes of producing the heart—if (part of) the heart’s function is to produce blood and blood vessels—then there is a causal series such that an efficient cause brings about the heart for the sake of blood and blood vessels. Some blood vessels are produced for the sake of carrying nutriments from the mother’s uterus, and some are produced for the sake of transporting blood to the region where the brain develops. The brain is produced for the sake of maintaining an optimum ratio of coldness to heat, and this ratio is supposed to be the mechanism by which the developing embryo can transform nutriments into organic parts—and therefore it is brought about for the sake of these organic parts.29 Each final causal chain terminates at some activity of the whole organism composed of many part- substances, and therefore every part-substance comes to be for the sake of the whole, even if there is some pair of part-substances such that neither is a final cause of the other. When there is such a pair of substances, say p1 and p2, p1 and p2 can still be essentially ordered to one another even if neither is a final cause of the other, for example in a nonevident essential order. Let w be a whole sub- stance for the sake of which p1 and p2 are produced. If p1 would not be final- causally ordered to w unless p2 were final-causally ordered to w first, or vice versa, and neither is final-causally ordered to the other, then p1 and p2 stand in a [pneo], since each is a proximate effect of a common final cause, w. Now suppose that three more part-substances of w, p3, p4 and p5, are essentially ordered such that p3 is a final cause of p5, p1 is a final cause of p3 and p4, but p4 is not a final cause of p5. If p5 would not be final-causally ordered to p3 unless p4 were first final-causally ordered to p1, then p4 and p5 stand in a [rneo], since each are remote effects of a common final cause, w. There is also some reason to think that the sort of unity of order that obtains among organic part-substances is a unity of an essentially ordered efficient causal series. Again taking the cue from Scotus’s endorsement of Aristotle’s embryology, the heart’s activity is supposed to initiate the efficient causal series that results in a complete organic body. It produces the blood vessels and the blood, the vessels transport the blood to the brain and the nutriments from the uterus, these effects go on to produce their effects, and so on. If there is an essential order of efficient causation among these organic part-substances, it does not obtain simply in virtue of one or more part-substances efficiently causing the existence of another. The efficient causal order by which all the parts are brought into being fails to be an essential order because the causes do

29 Aristotle, On the Generation of Animals II, c.6, 743a 1 -743b 32 (Barnes I, pp. 1153–1154).

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—part ii 105 not cause simultaneously—the heart is generated before the blood, the blood before the brain, and so on. But if we think of a more or less complete organic body at some advanced developmental stage, where roughly all the parts have been produced, then it does seem plausible to suppose that there is an essen- tial order of efficient causation among these parts, where the activity of one part, p1, is dependent on the activity of another part, p2, at the moment of p1’s activity, and where some first part—the heart according to Aristotle—is the first cause in the series. For example, according to Aristotle the brain’s cooling and heart’s heating are partial causes of all that goes on in the body. If the heart or the brain is removed it is not simply the case that the body loses a part- substance; additionally, the functioning of all the other parts cease, since these activities are dependent on the ongoing activity of the heart or brain. In an essential efficient causal order such as this, the causal line can arrive at a fork, as in an order of final causality. Two effects on different prongs can neverthe- less be nonevidently essentially ordered to one another such that every part is essentially ordered to every other part. To say that every part is essentially ordered to every other part is not to say, however, that the parts of the body are interdependent or make up an organic system in which all the parts (or at least the vital parts) are needed not only for the life of the organism but for the ongoing functioning of any one of the parts. Instead, it is just to say that every part is either essentially prior or essentially posterior to every other part. Scotus would deny that that the parts could be interdependent because he is committed to the noncircularity of essentially ordered items. So if the brain is essentially dependent on the heart (in the order of efficient causality) and the heart is essentially dependent on the brain (in the order of final causality), then the heart is not efficient-causally essentially dependent on the brain, and the brain is not final-causally essen- tially dependent on the heart. For Scotus an organic first cause is always required. One might object to my characterization of the unity of order of organic parts in terms of final and efficient essential orders along the following line. One of the major motivations for pluralism about substantial form (both stan- dard and Scotistic pluralism) is that a corpse seems like it is continuous with the living organism whose corpse it is. Standard pluralism allows us to say that Mole’s corpse is the same body as Mole’s body, because they are the same sub- stance, informed by the same substantial form. But if the unity of Mole’s fetal body consists in its parts being efficient- and final-causally ordered to one another (which unity we rightly suppose the full-grown animal retains), then Mole’s corpse cannot be the same body as Mole’s body, because whatever unity the corpse has is not the unity Mole’s body has.

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The objection forces a nice clarification. On the view I am attributing to Scotus, Mole’s corpse is not a substance, but neither was Mole’s body. The organism was a substance because it was a composite of soul and an ordered unity of organic parts. The organs of an organism do not themselves cease to exist at the moment the organism ceases to exist, but the body they composed does cease to exist, because that body was constituted not only by organs but also by the final- and efficient-causal relations that these parts bore one to another, and these relations cease to exist when the organism ceases to exist. (Or, they cease to exist when the organism ceases to exist under usual circum­ stances. There is nothing in Scotus’s theory which prevents these relations from persisting after death, since death would be a matter of the soul separat- ing from the body, and according to the theory these relations can obtain prior to ensoulment [e.g., during fetal development].) Thus, while it may be true that Mole’s corpse is not the same body as Mole’s, it is true that the (non-relative) parts of Mole’s corpse are the same as the (non-relative) parts of Mole’s body.30 To sum up Scotus’s answer to the Special Potency Question: when Scotus says that several substances must have a unity of order in order to be perfect- ible by a substantial form or soul he means that the substances must be essen- tially ordered to one another. Of the six essential orders of dependence I have focused on final causality and efficient causality as plausible candidates for the sort of unity of order that Scotus may have had in mind in QMet VII, q.20, n.48. iv The Role of Soul in Scotus and Two Unitarians

In Buridan’s commentary on Aristotle’s On Generation and Corruption, he denies that integral parts have distinct substantial forms. According to him, the soul informs matter prior to the development of organs, so if there were substantial forms of integral parts, then they would inform the composite of

30 To go a little deeper on this issue: what is supposed to be scandalous about the unitarian position with respect to corpses is not just that the corpse is not the same body as the body of the organism whose corpse it is, but also and more startlingly that no part of the corpse is the same object as an any part of the organism whose corpse it is. On some criti- cisms of Aquinas, the corpse and the organism do not even share the same prime matter. Now, while Scotus is committed in the end to the idea that the corpse is not the same body as the body of the organism whose corpse it is, he is not committed to the idea that the parts of the corpse were never parts of the organism. Indeed, all of the (non-relative) parts of the corpse (and many of its relative parts) were parts of the organism (at least within a sufficiently short period post mortem). I am grateful to Martin Tweedale for rais- ing the objection that prompted this clarification.

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—part ii 107 soul and matter. But it is unfitting (inconveniens) that there should be a sub- stantial form of an organ such as a bone (Buridan’s example) informing this composite, since the soul is more perfect than bone. Therefore there is not a substantial form of bone.31 Buridan therefore holds that organ terms such as “bone,” “flesh,” “head,” and “finger” do not pick out substances but are instead accidental and connotative terms necessarily defined with reference to specific functions of a living organism.32 On Buridan’s view the gradual process of dif- ferentiation into the sorts of parts that can support the life functions of Mole seems to be directed by Mole’s sensitive soul; some mere sequence of changes is a process on the way to the generation of a living thing because there is a single form at work, structuring matter in the appropriate ways.33 The sequence of changes is therefore a sequence of changes in one substance, Mole.34 Scotus would object to Buridan’s account on the grounds that a substantial form perfects whatever it informs, such that a composite of matter and a sub- stantial form of some kind, K, is a full-fledged K, and not in process of becom- ing a K.35 But Scotus also holds that a K-form can only inform a subject that is

31 John Buridan, Quaestiones super libros De generatione et corruptione Aristotelis I.8, ed. Michiel Streijger, Paul J.J.M. Bakker, Johannes M.M.H. Thijssen (Leiden and Boston: Brill, 2010), p. 84, ll.15–25, hereafter cited using the convention: (Streijger p.n, ll.m). 32 Ibid. (Streijger, p. 87, ll.4–7). 33 Ibid., (Streijger, p. 84, ll.8–25). According to Buridan, bones, nerves, hands, and other body parts develop after the soul begins to inform matter (Streijger, p. 84, ll.22–23, anima sub- stantialiter generatur et vivit embrio, antequam ossa fiant sive antequam sint ossa); the forms of these body parts are accidental forms (Streijger, p. 84, ll.26–27, forma qua os dici- tur os est forma accidentalis); and the dispositions for these accidental forms come after the soul (Streijger, p. 84, ll.30–31−p. 85, ll.1–2, dispositio qua os dicitur os vel qua nervus dicitur nervus […] adveniunt post adventum animae). It seems natural to interpret Buridan as holding that the dispositions for these accidental forms of body parts arise not just after but in some sense because of the soul. 34 These claims about Buridan are controversial. I make them on the basis of Buridan’s com- mentary on On Generation and Corruption, but the better known commentary on On the Soul presents what at first blush looks like a contrasting picture of the soul’s relation to organic parts. In this text, the soul apparently informs a body that is already differentiated into different kinds of organic parts. Buridan, Quaestiones in Aristotelis De Anima (de prima lectura) II, qq.4–5, ed. Benoît Patar, in Benoît Patar, Le Traité de L’âme de Jean Buridan (Louvain-la-Neuve: Éditions de L’institut Supérieur de Philosophie, 1991), pp. 249–278. I think that the On the Soul account can be read as consistent with my inter- pretation of the On Generation and Corruption account, but for the purposes of this paper I am interested in the view I attribute to Buridan only insofar as it serves as a foil to Scotus’s view, so I reserve a defense of this claim for future work. 35 For those animals and plants that generate offspring by means of seed, Scotus says that the form of the seed does have some causal role in the generation of the organism, but

108 Chapter 6 ready to support the sorts of activities that a K characteristically performs, and therefore requires a more or less fully developed body in which to perform its characteristic functions.36 As far as I can tell he does not argue for this claim; it appears to be a basic feature of Scotus’s hylomorphism about substance. This leaves Scotus in need of some explanation of how a sequence of substantial changes (a heart develops, then blood, then a brain, and so on) is also a process on the way to the generation of Mole. As we have seen, Scotus deploys a meta- physics of essential orders, and in particular an essential order of final causes, to explain how discrete generations of substances are in fact generations of things destined to be parts of an organism. Aquinas agrees with Scotus that the soul begins to inform matter not at the moment of conception but at some more advanced stage of fetal development and therefore both agree that a mole fetus is not really Mole (or any other mole) until Mole’s sensitive soul is induced. But unlike Scotus, since Aquinas is committed to unitarianism, and since the fetus is supposed to be either a sub- stance or composed of substances, it is strictly speaking false to say that the soul begins to inform the fetus; instead the fetus and all of its integral parts are corrupted at the moment at which Mole is generated.37 For Aquinas, then, it is inaccurate to say that the soul directs the development of the organs, since the organism and all of its parts begin to exist at the instant the soul begins to inform matter. For both Buridan and Aquinas, then, the soul does not simply unify organs but makes them. A striking consequence of Scotus’s metaphysics of part-substances is how little work it leaves the soul to do, relative to Buridan’s and Aquinas’s hylomor- phic accounts. According to Scotus the organs of Mole both exist and function (in some sense) prior to becoming organs of Mole. It is then the soul’s job to unify the organs, making them part-substances of one living substance. The special mark of a substantial unity by Scotus’s lights is that there is some activ- ity or activities that cannot be attributed to a part or parts of that unity. In the case of an animal sensing—seeing, tasting, etc.—is the paradigmatic activity that indicates that an animal is one substance (albeit composed of part- substances) and not some less-than-substantial unity of part-substances.38

that form is not the soul and moreover is corrupted at the moment when the first part of the animal is generated. Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.12, nn.40–44 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 206–208). 36 Ordinatio IV, d.11, p. 1, a.2, q.1, n.284 q.3 (Vatican XII, p. 267). 37 Aquinas, De potentia Dei q.3, a.9, ad 9; Summa contra gentiles II, c.89, 11; Summa theologiae Ia q.119, a.2. 38 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.51 (Bonaventure IV, p. 393). I discuss this idea in some detail in Chapter 9.

Scotistic Pluralism about Substantial Form—part ii 109

The soul and the body, then, compose the whole substance that is the proper subject of sensing and other activities (if there be any others).39 But all of the organs needed for performing these activities are already there, waiting, as it were, for the soul.

39 Scotus thinks that a substance is really distinct from its parts, and thus literally means that the whole substance and not its parts (taken singly or together) is the proper subject of some activities and properties. This aspect of Scotus’s metaphysics of parts is discussed in Richard Cross, “Duns Scotus’s Anti-Reductionistic Account of Material Substance,” Vivarium 33:2 (1995), pp. 137–170.

Chapter 7 Contingent Supposits and Contingent Substances

In the last two chapters I have argued that Scotus thinks that some integral parts of material substances—paradigmatically organs of organisms—are composites of matter and at least one substantial form. For example, Scotus thinks that the heart of Mole is a composite of matter and a substantial form of the heart. Does it follow from this that a heart is a substance? If it does, it fol- lows straightaway that a material substance can have material substances as integral parts—a view alien to a common way of interpreting the theory of substance offered in Aristotle’s Metaphysics VII.1 I think it does, and I think Scotus thinks it does, for the very simple reason that a composite of matter and substantial form just is a substance. But the issue is not quite as simple as it appears. A substance is supposed to be that which exists per se, where per se can be understood in a literal way as through oneself, by oneself, or on its own. Even if a heart can exist per se, for example if it is removed from the body and stored under the right conditions, it apparently does not so exist while it is a fully functioning part of a living organism. Not only does the heart, while it is a part, depend on the organism (or perhaps other parts of the organism) for its existence and functioning, but in a deeper sense its existence and functioning seem wholly for the sake of the organism; it is ordered to the existence of something else in a way in which the organism itself is not so ordered. Could it be, then, that a heart is contingently a substance—not a substance while a part of an organism, but a substance when it is not? The short answer is probably not, but the reason is not what you might expect. You might expect that a heart is not contingently a substance because no substance is contingently a substance. Being a substance, you might think, is a necessary feature of a thing in the sense that for any x, if x is a substance then if x ceases to be a substance x ceases to be. This is not Scotus’s reason, however. Scotus thinks—and I will argue for this claim in this chapter—that being a substance is a contingent feature of at least some substances. One and the same thing might first not be a substance, and then become a substance, or might first be a substance and then cease to be a substance. He also thinks, and I will also argue that he thinks, that any substance can be a part of another substance, if only by divine power. This implies that being a supposit—that is, being the sort of substance that is not a part of any other substance and is a

1 Aristotle, Metaphysics VII, c.13, 1039a 3–5 (Barnes II, p. 1640).

© koninklijke brill nv, leiden, 2014 | doi 10.1163/9789004278974_009

Contingent Supposits And Contingent Substances 111 member of a determinate Aristotelian kind, such as an individual human being—is also a contingent feature of at least some substances; any created supposit can cease to be a supposit but not cease to exist, and some non-sup- posits can become supposits and continue to exist. So the full story about Mole’s heart is rather more complicated than first appears. It is a substance, a composite of matter and substantial form; under certain (tragic) conditions it might cease to be a part of Mole while continuing to be the very substance it is. But because a heart is a substance by nature disposed to be a part of an organ- ism it is not a member of a determinate Aristotelian kind; it therefore fails to be a supposit even when removed from Mole’s chest, and probably cannot become a supposit. On my reading, then, Scotus’s doctrine of the substancehood of integral parts includes the claim that some substances are not supposits. In this chapter I expand this reading and defend some additional claims about substances and supposits. Not only are some substances not supposits, but being a supposit is a merely contingent feature of some substances, and being a substance is a merely contingent feature of some things. I begin by providing some further defense of my claim that Scotus thinks that some sub- stances can be parts. I then turn to Scotus’s metaphysics of the Incarnation to defend the claims that Scotus thinks that not every substance is a supposit, that any created supposit might not be a supposit but still exist, and that some non-supposits can become supposits. Finally I examine Scotus’s metaphysics of continua to support my claim that Scotus thinks that being a substance is a merely contingent feature of at least some substances. Along the way I exam- ine some relevant texts from Ockham to illuminate Scotus’s views by compari- son and contrast. First, however, it is worth pointing out that early in his career Scotus appar- ently held that a part of a substance is or can be a substance only in an equivo- cal sense. In Quaestiones super Praedicamenta Aristotelis q.15, Scotus asks whether the parts of substances are substances. He endorses the first argu- ment that they are not, according to which,

Substance in the most general sense is a being per se; [but] no part of a substance is a being per se while it is a part of a substance, because then it would be a hoc aliquid, and one substance would be from many hoc aliquid, which does not seem true.2

2 Quaestiones super Praedicamenta Aristotelis q.15, n.1 (Bonaventure I, p. 383), Quod non, vide- tur: Quia substantia ut est generalissimum est per se ens; nulla pars substantiae est per se ens dum est pars substantiae, quia tunc esset “hoc aliquid”, et una substantia esset ex multis hoc aliquid, quod non videtur verum.

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Yet Scotus qualifies. Substance is an equivocal term: it can signify either an ens per se, or a principle of an ens per se. And, of course, it is only in the second sense that parts of substances can be said to be substances.3 In this second sense parts are in the genus of substance through reduction to the per se prin- ciples of the species.4 Quaestiones super Praedicamenta Aristotelis is among Scotus’s earliest works; it is probably earlier than any except for the Quaestiones in Librum Porphyrii Isagoge.5 That Scotus offers in other works a considerably different answer to the question about whether substances can be parts of sub- stances can therefore be chalked up to doctrinal development rather than inconsistency. i Three Modes of per se Being

One of these other works is Quodlibet IX. Here Scotus asks whether an angel can inform matter. Arguing that an angel cannot, Scotus aims to show that an angel is a being per se in a special sense according to which it cannot be a part of something that is itself a per se being. He distinguishes three senses of beings per se:

First, it can designate something which exists in isolation or apart from a subject, in the third mode of per se referred to in the Posterior Analytics.6 In this sense, an accident can be a per se being when it does not inhere in a subject. Second, a per se being is contrasted with one that exists in another, and in this sense it is a thing which neither actually inheres in another nor has an aptitude to do so. Every substance, not only one that is composite, but matter and form as well, are all beings per se in this sense, for though a substantial form is in the matter it informs, it does not inhere in it like an accident, for “to inhere” says that it does not inform its subject per se. What inheres is neither an act simply, but only in a

3 Quaestiones super Praedicamenta Aristotelis q.15, n.10 (Bonaventure I, p. 386). 4 Ibid. 5 “Quaestiones super Praedicamenta Aristotelis: Introduction,” (Bonaventure I, p.xxxvii). 6 Aristotle, Posterior Analytics I.4, 73b6-10. “[…W]hat is not said of some other underlying sub- ject […] and whatever signifies some ‘this,’ is just what it is without being something else.” Scotus’s point is that even accidents (under miraculous conditions) can exist without inher- ing in a subject, and in this sense are like substance. Aristotle seems to have had only sub- stances in mind in the text quoted here.

Contingent Supposits And Contingent Substances 113

qualified sense, nor does it form one thing per se with the subject in which it inheres. What informs per se has the opposite characteristics. Third, a per se being may refer to one which has its ultimate actuality, so that it is simply unable to be ordered per se to some ulterior act beyond that which it has, where the ulterior actualization would belong to it per se, either in a primary or in a participated sense. A per se being in this sense is called a suppositum, and if it is of an intellectual nature, it is called a person. Only this third is properly said to be subsisting, in the sense the Philosopher has in mind when he says: “Matter is only poten- tially ‘a this’ and the form is that in virtue of which a thing is called ‘a this,’ but that third being compounded of both matter and form is called ‘a this.’”7 In other words, something subsisting per se has its ultimate actual- ization so that it is unable to be ordered per se to some ulterior act.8

First, anything that can exist on its own (solitarie) is a being per se. This includes not only substances, substantial forms, and matter, but also qualitative and quantitative forms, which can exist without inherence in a substance (if only by divine power). Second, anything that does not inhere, neither actually nor aptitudinally, is a being per se. The second mode rules out accidents, since even

7 Aristotle, On the Soul II.1, 412a6-10 (Barnes I, p. 656). 8 Scotus, Quodlibet IX, a.2, n.7, trans. Felix Alluntis and Allan B. Wolter (Princeton and London: Princeton University Press, 1975, p. 220. Alluntis and Wolter’s translation is based on Alluntis’ Latin edition in Obras del Doctor Sutil Juan Duns Escoto (edicion biligue): Cuestiones Cuodlibetales, trans. (with Latin edition) by Felix Alluntis (Madrid: Biblioteca de autores cris- tianos, 1968), pp. 344–345: Ens per se potest intelligi tripliciter: uno modo, intelligitur ens per se solitarie, prout accipitur I Posteriorum in tertio modo per se, et hoc modo accidens potest esse ens per se quando non est in subiecto. Secundo modo, dicitur ens per se prout distingui- tur contra ens in alio et sic per se ens est idem quod non inhaerens actualiter nec aptitudi- naliter; et hoc modo quaecumque substantia, non tantum composita sed etiam materia et forma, est ens per se, quia forma substantialis, licet insit materiae informando, non tamen inhaeret; quia inhaerere dicit non per se informare, quia inhaerens nec est actus simpliciter, sed actus secundum quid, nec cum illo cui inhaeret facit per se unum; opposita conveniunt ei quod per se informat. Tertio modo, ens per se dicitur illud quod habet actualitatem ulti- mam, ita quod non est per se ordinabile ad aliquem actum simpliciter, ultra istum quem habet, qui quidem actus ulterior possit esse actus eius per se, et hoc vel primo vel participa- tive; quod hoc modo est per se end communiter dicitur suppositum et in natura intellectuali dicitur persona. Hoc modo intelligitur maior de ente per se. Istud solum dicitur proprie sub- sistens, sicut Philosophus loquitur II De Anima, dicens: “Quod materia est potentia hoc aliq- uid, species autem secundum quam aliquid dicitur hoc aliquid; tertium, quod est ex ipsis, quod simpliciter est hoc aliquid”, scilicet per se subsistens habet actualitatem ultimam non ordinabilem per se ad aliquem actum ulteriorem.

114 Chapter 7 if they can exist without inhering, by nature they have aptitude to inhere. It rules in substances, substantial forms, and matter. Finally, anything that has ultimate actuality (actualitatem ultimam) is a being per se. A being with ulti- mate actuality is a per se being that is not per se orderable [per se ordinabile] to another per se being, where each occurrence of “per se being” can refer to any of the three modes of per se being. A separated accident is per se orderable to a substance in the sense that its natural aptitude is to inhere in a substance; prime matter and substantial form are per se orderable to a substance in the sense that their natural aptitudes are to be essential parts of a substance. But a per se being of the third mode, called a supposit or (if its nature is rational) a person, is not per se orderable in the sense that it can neither inhere in nor be an integral or essential part of a substance. A supposit has “ultimate actuality” in the sense that while it may have parts (if it is complex), there is no supposit of which it is or can be a part. It is in this third sense that an angel is a per se being and therefore an angel cannot inform matter.9 Notice that in the second mode, not just a substantial form or matter but a composite substance itself is a per se being. So at least some substances belong in the second mode and at least some substances belong in the third. Now, it is trivially true that if a composite substance is in the third mode then it is also in the second mode, since a third-mode per se being is a being that cannot inhere in something else and a second-mode per se being is a being that need not inhere in something else—necessity implies possibility. But it is not trivially true that if a substance is in the second mode then it is also in the third. In fact, this is almost certainly not true. If Scotus thinks that for all x, x is a substance if and only if x is a per se being in the third mode, then it simply would be redundant to place any substance in the second mode. Of course, Scotus does not explicitly commit himself to holding that there are any substances that are in the second mode but not in the third. But given that he bothers to list sub- stances among the kinds of things falling under the second mode, it seems highly likely that he thinks, at the very least, that it is possible that there is some y, such that y is a substance in the second mode but not in the third. In other words, it seems highly likely that Scotus thinks it is possible that there is a substance that is not a supposit. On my reading of Scotus’s pluralism about substantial form, organic sub- stances have any number of per se second mode substances as parts. To show this, it will be helpful to reconsider briefly a text already discussed. In QMet VII,

9 Quodlibet IX, a.2, n.7, in Obras del Doctor Sutil Juan Duns Escoto (edicion biligue): Cuestiones Cuodlibetales, trans. (with Latin edition) by Felix Alluntis (Madrid: Biblioteca de autores cristianos, 1968), pp. 344–345.

Contingent Supposits And Contingent Substances 115 q.20, Scotus endorses Aristotle’s hypothesis that the heart is the first organ to be generated in human embryogenesis and applies the results of his quaestio on whether organic parts have substantial forms, saying,

[Aristotle] would assign in the generation of an animal (speaking of the whole) many complete changes to many forms of parts, one before the other in time.10

We know from context that the forms mentioned here are substantial forms, the substantial forms of the various organic parts. These parts develop tempo- rally prior to the generation of the whole animal, and therefore exist in some sense independently of the animal whose parts they are waiting to become. Since these parts have substantial forms, it is safe to conclude that they are substances. It is clear also that when the whole animal comes into existence these parts remain actual. After all, Scotus deploys a classic argument for plu- ralism, namely that a corpse is not a new substance but is identical with some part(s) of the deceased animal. If Scotus claimed that these parts ceased to be actual when they composed an organism, then he would have the same explanatory gap as the unitarians—where an efficient cause reducing poten- tial beings to actual beings should be, there is none. It follows, then, that the organic parts remain actual when they begin to compose an animal. The ques- tion, then, is whether they remain substances when they begin to compose an animal. If they are substances they are obviously not per se beings in the third mode (since they are parts). But they may be per se beings in the second mode. Since they were substances before they became parts, since they continue to exist when they become parts, and since Scotus thinks that some substances (those existing per se in the second mode) can make a per se unity with another per se unity, it is highly likely that these organic parts are actual substances (in the second mode of per se being) actually composing an organism (in the third mode of per se being). They are not supposits, but they are substances, com- posing a supposit. ii Ockham on the Distinction between Substance and Supposit

Ockham holds a similar view. Although he declared agnosticism on the issue of whether organic parts have specifically different substantial

10 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.38 (Bonaventure IV, p. 390).

116 Chapter 7 forms,11 he thought that the integral parts of a composite substance were all actual, and since he thought that both matter and substantial forms (with the exception of the rational soul) were equally extended, he held that the integral parts of one extended composite substance were them- selves composites of parts of matter and parts of form. Like Scotus, he denies that these parts are supposits.12 But he thinks that they become sup- posits if they are separated from their whole, and he thinks they were sup- posits if they existed before they were parts of their whole:

The same part of air or a man first is not a supposit when it is a part, and afterward, when it is not a part, it is a supposit. And similarly numerically the same nature is first a supposit when it is not an integral part, and afterward, when it is an integral part, it is not a supposit. Example: if some part of a man or of air were separated from the whole, first it was a part and consequently not a supposit, and after it is a supposit, because it is not a part when it is separated from the whole and exists per se.13

Ockham emphasizes that what becomes a supposit when separated from the whole is the very same thing as that which was a part and not a supposit. He does not think that the new supposit is a new thing. Likewise, what ceases to be a supposit when it becomes a part is the very same thing as that which was a supposit and not a part. The new part is not a new thing. This entails that being a supposit is a contingent property.14 But of what is it a contingent prop- erty? Not of form, or of prime matter, but a composite of the two. And the composite is not a potential being but an actual.15 But an actual composite of matter and form just is a substance. For Ockham too, then, there are substances that are not supposits.

11 Ockham, Quodlibet III, q.6 (OTh IX, pp. 225–227). 12 Ockham’s definition of supposit is similar to Scotus’s third mode of per se existence. Ockham, Quodlibet IV, q.7, ll.10–12 (OTh IX, p. 328), Dico quod suppositum est ens comple- tum, incommunicabile per identitatem, nulli natum inhaerere, et a nullo sustentatum. 13 Ockham, Quodlibet IV, q.7, ll.28–32 (OTh IX, p. 329), Similiter eadem pars aeris vel hominis primo non est suppositum quando est pars, et postea quando non est pars, est supposi- tum. Et similiater eadem natura numero est primo suppositum quando non est pars inte- gralis, et postea quando est pars integralis, non est suppositum. Exemplum: si aliqua pars hominis vel aeris separaretur a toto, primo erat pars et per consequens non suppositum, et post est suppositum, quia non est pars cum sit separata a toto et existat per se. 14 Not everything that is a supposit is contingently a supposit, however. The divine persons are supposits of the divine essence and cannot not be. 15 Ockham, Quaestiones Variae III, q.1, ll.320–328 (OTh VIII, p. 78).

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Ockham gives a different analysis of the ontological status of separated essential parts, and this analysis reveals that Ockham does not think that all it takes for a substance to be a supposit is that it not be a part of one. According to his version of pluralism, a human is composed of at least three kinds of sub- stantial forms: a form of corporeity, a sensitive soul, and a rational soul. In Quodlibet II, q.10, he canvasses a natural objection to this view: if the sensitive and rational souls are really distinct and if (as is apparently the case) it is pos- sible that the composite of body and sensitive soul ceases to be informed by the rational soul, then it is possible that there be a sensitive animal that is no kind of animal.16 Ockham admits that the rational-soulless animal would be living and would be neither rational nor irrational! But it is an animal only in an equivocal sense of the term, because it is an animal not truly belonging to a specific kind. Moreover,

It is not a complete being existing per se in a genus, but is by nature an essential part of something existing per se in a genus. And no such thing is in the genus of substance or of animal per se.17

Here Ockham seems to imply that the rational-soulless animal would not be a supposit, since it is incomplete, i.e., it does not belong to a specific kind and its nature is to be an essential part of something that does. But it exists as an actual composite of body and sensitive soul. It is therefore a substance, but not a supposit. In recent work, Calvin Normore has denied that, for Ockham, integral parts of substances are substances. According to Normore, while Ockham thinks that the integral parts of a continuum (such as a piece of wood) are all actual parts, and that there are actually infinitely many such parts in any continuum,

[He] does nonetheless deny that a piece of wood is made up of infinitely many other substances. His thought here is that an integral part of a substance, while it is in act in the sense that it exists in the world, is not in act in another sense which sense requires precisely that it not be part of anything else.18

16 Ockham, Quodlibet II, q.10, ll.83–85 (OTh IX, p. 160). 17 Ockham, Quodlibet II, q.10, ll.111–114 (OTh IX, p. 161), Et tota ratio est, quia non est ens completum existens per se in genere, sed est natum esse pars essentialis alicuius existen- tis per se in genere. Et nullum tale est in genere substantiae vel animalis per se. 18 Calvin Normore, “Ockham’s Metaphysics of Parts,” p. 748, fn.29. Normore does not cite a text for this claim. From his discussion it is clear that he is examining Ockham’s

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Implied here is that a necessary condition of a thing’s being a substance is that it not be a part of anything else; the special way in which substances are in act is that they exist, but do not exist as parts of other substances. And this entails that any substance is ipso facto a supposit. But, as we have seen, Ockham does not think that every substance is a supposit. So the distinction Normore draws between being in act and being in act and not being a part of anything else is better seen as a distinction between being in act and being a supposit, rather than as a distinction between being in act and being a substance. Since being a supposit is a contingent feature of any (created) substance, the very same thing can be in act in the first sense and then be in act in the second (or vice versa). And, more to the point, the very same substance can be in act in the first sense and then be in act in the second (or vice versa). Ockham’s account of supposits yields two necessary conditions for being a supposit: 1) not being a part of something; 2) being of a complete, determinate kind. Ockham’s macabre example, the rational soulless, human-like organism, fails to be a supposit because, while it is not a part of anything, it does not belong to a complete species. Some part of a puddle of water would be a sub- stance but not a supposit and it would fail to be a supposit just because it is a part of a substance, the puddle. But remove that part and it would become a supposit since it is already a homogeneous substance of the elemental kind, water, and would not be a part of anything once separated from the puddle. While Scotus does not explicitly include condition (2) in his own account of what a supposit is, he would likely endorse it. But he parts ways with Ockham inasmuch as he would deny that a non-detached part of a homogeneous sub- stance (such as a puddle of water) is a substance—of which more, below. iii What’s Special about Supposits?

Medieval reflection on the metaphysics of the Incarnation yielded a similar distinction between supposits and mere substances. Marilyn McCord Adams asks, “What’s metaphysically special about supposits?” in light of medieval

questions de continuo from Quaestiones in Libros Physicorum Aristotelis. In these ques- tions Ockham argues, among other things, that the integral parts of a continuum are in act while they are parts (q.68), that they have their own actuality independent of the actuality of the whole of which they are parts (q.69), that there are infinitely many actual parts in any continuum (q.70), and that these parts are all really distinct from each other (q.71). But Ockham does not claim in these questions that nothing that is a part is not a substance. Cf. Ockham, Quaestiones in Libros Physicorum Aristotelis, qq.66–71 (OPh VI, 582–597).

Contingent Supposits And Contingent Substances 119 innovations of Aristotle’s theory of substance motivated by Chalcedonian Christology.19 The Chalcedonian Definition holds that in Christ there are two natures—divine and human—but only one person and this person is the Son of God.20 Medieval theologians interested in bringing Aristotle to bear on the- ology knew that in the Categories Aristotle distinguishes two kinds of sub- stances, primary and secondary, where secondary substances are substance kinds, such as humanity, and primary substances are substance individuals, such as this human.21 Which is the human nature of Christ, primary or second- ary? It is not secondary, since Christ is truly man and therefore truly is an indi- vidual man. But identifying Christ’s human nature with primary substance also has problems. If the Son of God unites himself with a man, that is, some guy already on the scene, then either the union will be a union of two persons, which violates Chalcedon, or in taking on human nature the Son of God destroys the person and takes his human nature, which is either uncouth or impossible. An unbaptized Categories-based metaphysics is therefore inade- quate for an orthodox metaphysics of the Incarnation. Summarizing some medieval approaches, Adams writes,

[The doctrine of the Incarnation requires] us to complicate Aristotle’s bipartite division between primary and secondary substances. [It forces] a further distinction between complete concrete individual substance things that are natures but not persons or supposits, and those that are persons or supposits.22

What the Son of God assumes, therefore, is not a “person or supposit” but a “complete concrete individual substance thing.” God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit—creates this individual substance thing and therefore it causally depends on God. Under natural conditions, when God creates an individual substance nature he creates it as a supposit, a primary substance that neither inheres in nor is a part of anything. In Scotus’ language a supposit is an indi- vidual substance nature that lacks both the aptitude to depend on another

19 In this paragraph I closely follow Marilyn McCord Adams’s exceptionally clear account of the role of the Incarnation in medieval innovations to Aristotle’s theory of substance in “What’s Metaphysically Special about Supposits?” 20 “The Definition of Chalcedon (451),” in Creeds of the Churches: A Reader in Christian Doctrine from the Bible to the Present, 3rd edition, ed. John H. Leith (Louisville, KY: John Knox Press, 1982), pp. 34–36. 21 Aristotle, Categories I.5, 2a11-19 (Barnes I, p. 4). 22 Adams, “What’s Metaphysically Special about Supposits?” p. 26 (italics hers).

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(since it is a substance nature), and lacks actual dependence on another. But Scotus thinks that there is nothing repugnant about God’s creating an indi- vidual substance nature as a (non-causally) dependent entity in a way analo- gous to the dependence of an accident on a substance.23 And in the case of the Incarnation, Scotus thinks, the Son’s individual human nature is created as a thing depending on the Son of God. In his language the Son’s individual human nature lacks the aptitude to depend on another (again, since under normal conditions it would be created as a supposit), but it actually depends on the Son. Since Scotus and others thought that the individual human nature of Christ could be (but in fact never is) disunited from the Son of God and, as it were, become his own man, it follows that for that very individual substance nature, whether it is a supposit or not is a contingent affair. We can neatly transpose Scotus’s distinction between the second and third modes of per se being onto his Incarnational metaphysics. Under normal con- ditions God creates an individual substance nature as a person, a per se being in the third mode. But in the special case of the Incarnation he creates an indi- vidual substance nature as dependent on the Son of God. The substance nature is a per se being in the second mode, and it depends on a per se being of the third mode, the second person of the Trinity. In the pro-Scotist conclusion of his book, The Metaphysics of the Incarnation, Richard Cross writes,

If substances are individualized natures, then it is clear that Christ’s human nature is a substance. As such it is a subject of properties and accidents—albeit not an ultimate subject of properties and accidents.24

In other words, Christ’s human nature is a part-substance in the second mode of per se being, and it is a part of Christ which is a supposit in the third mode of per se being. The previous sections of this chapter have shown that conclusions about the contingency of being a supposit were not limited to the Christological case. What I would like to emphasize here, however, is that if we grant that Scotus and Ockham allow for substances that are not supposits, e.g., substances that are parts of other substances and/or are not of some determinate species, we should also grant that they allow, or at least are committed to, Christ’s human nature being a substance that is not a supposit. In fact this is the most natural

23 Cross notes that while Scotus’s preferred “model” for articulating the relationship between the two natures of Christ is a substance-accident model, he sometimes uses a part-whole model. Richard Cross, The Metaphysics of the Incarnation, pp. 128–133. 24 Richard Cross, The Metaphysics of the Incarnation, p. 314.

Contingent Supposits And Contingent Substances 121 way to interpret Scotus’ application of the distinction between a “supposit or person” and “a complete concrete individual substance thing” to the distinc- tion between human nature as found in Socrates or Plato (persons) and human nature as found in Christ (a complete concrete individual substance thing). The claim that any created substance that is a supposit is only contingently a supposit (that is, it could cease to be a supposit without ceasing to be) is not to say, however, that every created substance can be a supposit. Ockham’s rational soulless human-like thing is a substance but fails to be a supposit because it is not of a complete species. It can become a supposit only by reduc- tion in the sense that if it begins to be informed by a rational soul it becomes an essential part of a human supposit. And Scotus’s organic part-substances really are substances, whether attached to or detached from an organism, but not even detached organic part-substances are supposits because, while they are not a part of any substance and therefore satisfy one criterion for being a supposit, they lack “ultimate actuality,” and therefore fail to be supposits. iv Arbitrary Part-Substances?

While Scotus allows for many different kinds of part-substances, he would deny that arbitrary parts are part-substances. His reasons reveal a commit- ment not just to the contingency of a substance’s being a supposit, as we have already discussed, but to the contingency of a thing’s being a substance, where this is understood in the radical sense that one and the same thing might first exist and not be a substance and then, continuing to exist, become a substance. By arbitrary parts I have in mind a variation of what Van Inwagen calls the Doctrine of Arbitrary Undetached Parts, according to which

For every material object, M, if R is the region of space occupied by M at time t, and if sub-R is any occupiable sub-region of R whatever, there exists a material object that occupies the region sub-R at t.25

For example, imagine a block of marble and then imagine a statue inside the marble, waiting to emerge. In reality there is no “joint” to carve between the statue in the block and the rest of the marble surrounding the statue. It is in this sense arbitrary, and we might well entertain doubts about whether it really exists.

25 Peter van Inwagen, “The Doctrine of Arbitrary Undetached Parts,” in Ontology, Identity, and Modality: Essays in Metaphysics (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), p. 75.

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By arbitrary part-substances I have in mind arbitrary parts that are sub- stances. I have argued that Scotus thinks that, e.g., Mole’s heart, liver, lungs, and other organs are substances, part-substances. These certainly aren’t arbi- trary part-substances, since each of these has a distinct function or role in the organism. But now consider Mole’s body and imagine a spherical region of Mole’s body in whose boundaries fall parts of several organs. Like the statue in the block of marble this is, if it exists, an arbitrary part because there is no natural joint to carve between it and its surrounding bodies. What would Scotus say? To see his answer, it’s necessary first to distinguish between hetero- and homogeneous bodies. The block of marble is marble throughout (let’s say); every part of the marble block is marble. As we will see in the following chapter, Scotus denies that the four chemical elements remain actual in a compound substance (that is, a substance compounded of two or more kinds of elements), so he holds that there can be non-elemental homo- geneous substances (that is, homogeneous substances other than earth, water, air, and fire). But Mole’s body is heterogeneous; bone is a different kind of stuff from flesh, and a heart is a different kind of thing from a liver. Scotus’s answer to the question about arbitrary part-substances would begin with a distinction between homogeneous and heterogeneous substances because he would give different answers for each. We will first examine homogeneous substances. A homogeneous substance can be a substance that is not a part of any substance, for example a block of marble or a bar of bronze (if marble and bronze are homogeneous). Or a homogeneous substance can be a part of a substance, for example Scotus thinks that bone is a homogeneous substance, and bone is part of a man. The question about whether there are arbitrary part-substances of homogeneous substances concerns both homogeneous substances that are parts of sub- stances and those that are not. So, for example, consider a bone, a femur. It is a discrete object with a distinct function in the life of a human, so it is probably a substance in its own right, at least on Scotus’s lights. What of its parts, such as its top and bottom halves? According to Scotus, a homogeneous substance has infinitely many actual parts but none of these parts (proper parts, in the language of mereology) is a substance. Each becomes a substance only if separated.26 Since each part is actual but is not actually a substance, and since

26 Ordinatio I, d.17, p.2, q.1, n.232 (Vatican V, p. 251). Also see Cross’s discussion in The Physics of Scotus, pp. 139–158 and especially pp. 146–147. By contrast, Ockham thought that the parts of a homogeneous body were not only actual but actually substances, pre- and post- detachment. See Ockham, Expositio in Libros Physicorum Aristotelis VI, c.13, §6 (OPh V, pp. 563–564), and discussion in Pasnau, Metaphysical Themes, pp. 610–613.

Contingent Supposits And Contingent Substances 123 each part can become a substance if separated, it follows that Scotus is com- mitted not just to the contingency of being a supposit—a substance can become a supposit and continue to be the very substance it is—but also to the contingency of being a substance—an actual region of a homogeneous sub- stance can become, if separated, a substance and continue to be the very thing that it is.27 Heterogeneous arbitrary parts require a different analysis. Homogeneous arbitrary parts such as a region of bone are, if not discrete things, members of some natural kind, such as bone, flesh, water, marble, and so on. So while Scotus would deny that a non-detached region of a femur is a part- substance, it seems reasonable to suppose that it is the sort of thing that can become a substance—even if we could only describe it as some bone rather than a bone. But now consider a heterogeneous region of Mole’s body, such as a spherical region in whose boundaries fall arbitrary parts of several different organs. All of the parts of the sphere are actual so the sphere is actual. But it is not a part-substance. The one criterion Scotus offers for picking out substances—for identifying some complex material object as a substance—is that it have some activity that is not reducible to the activity of its parts taken either singly or together.28 But our arbitrary sphere has no such activity. So even detached from the Mole we would have no reason to think that it becomes a substance. At best its homoge- neous parts become substances once detached—á la the analysis of homo- geneous arbitrary parts offered above. In conclusion, neither arbitrary homogeneous parts nor arbitrary heteroge- neous parts are substances while they are parts. But the former can, while the

27 Wholly mysterious here is whether undetached arbitrary homogeneous parts have their own . Scotus assigns an to any individual, and of course the class of individuals is far larger than the class of substances, including individual forms and indi- vidual matter. So the failure of such undetached parts to be substances is not itself reason to deny that they have their own haecceities. In favor of the view that such parts do have haecceities is the thought that since it’s one and the same thing that first isn’t a substance and then is, and since it indisputably has an haecceity when it is detached, it’s hard to see how it—that very thing—could exist prior to its detachment and not have its own haecceity. If it could, then why would it ever require one? Against this view is the very plausible thought that if every arbitrary homogeneous part had its own haecceity, and if any homogeneous continuum is infinitely divisible, then there should be as many hae- ceities actually in the continuum as there are potentially detached from the continuum— infinitely many. I leave this aporia for another time. 28 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.51 (Bonaventure IV, p. 393).

124 Chapter 7 latter cannot, become substances when they cease to be parts (e.g., by being detached from their wholes). And this, together with the assumption that one and the same thing first is not a substance while a part and then is a substance while not a part, entails that, for at least some kinds of substances, being a substance is a contingent property.

Chapter 8 The Mereological Status of the Elements in a Mixture

The last section of the last chapter examined the metaphysics of continuous homogeneous substances and teased out some implications of Scotus’s claim that the integral parts of such substances are not themselves substances. There I drew a distinction between elemental and non-elemental homogeneous sub- stances, where a non-elemental homogeneous substance is a homogeneous substance that is not one of the four elements, earth, water, air, and fire. That there are such substances is a commonplace of medieval natural philosophy. And this commonplace of medieval natural philosophy is one of the most dramatic differences between medieval and contemporary philosophical out- looks. Contemporary people, folk and philosophers alike, are taught early on that the material objects we perceive with our technologically unaided senses can be analyzed not only into incomprehensibly small parts, but incomprehen- sibly small parts of kinds very different from the kinds of thing we perceive with our senses. Organisms are composed of organs, organs of cells, cells of organelles, organelles of molecules, molecules of atoms, and so on, down to the elementary particles. Any macroscopic object really is composed of these smaller things; each of these smaller things is an actual part of the whole organism. Surface reflections on medieval chemistry suggest an analogous analysis of material objects into some sort of composition of two or more of the four elements—earth, air, fire, and water—which were commonly understood to be the basic ingredients of all material objects. Yet Scotus, along with most medieval philosophers after Aquinas, denied this. They believed instead that while every material substance other than the four basic elements was in some sense a mixture or compound of these four elements, the sense in which it is a mixture or compound excludes these elements being actual parts of the mate- rial substance compounded from them. Instead, the common assumption was that when these elements combine to produce a compound substance, they cease to exist and remain, if at all, only virtually, that is, they remain only in the sense that the resulting compound has some of the properties characteristic of the elements of which it is compounded. A homogeneous substance such as bone (for so they thought of bone) really and truly is bone all the way down; there is no integral part of bone that is not bone.

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Scotus tows this party line, and this by itself is not surprising. But this is surprising when considered in combination with the view about part- substances that I have been attributing to Scotus. Since Scotus holds in general that there is nothing metaphysically gauche with the position that a substance can be a part of a substance, his denials that the elements remain in a mixture, and that the quantitative parts of a homogeneous body are substances, are prima facie surprising. Having toiled to make room for part-substances in his Aristotelian ontology, one might have thought that he could let substances be composed of substances all the way down. For all that has been said so far, any part-substance of a material substance could itself be composed of part- substances, and any part-substance of that part-substance could be composed of part-substances, and so on. Since Scotus rejects , he holds that any quantified object is infinitely divisible, so it could turn out—again, for all that has been said so far—that any material substance has an infinitely branching structure of part-substances. In fact, Scotus does hold that every material sub- stance is infinitely divisible,1 but he denies (i) that there is a material substance that has an infinitely branching structure of part-substances, and that (ii) there is actually an infinite number of part-substances in any material substance. Scotus denies (i) because he holds that an analysis of a material substance into its part-substances eventually terminates at part-substances which are not themselves composed of part-substances, what he calls the homogeneous parts, things (or stuffs) like bone, flesh, blood, and nerve. He denies (ii) because, although Scotus is committed to the view that a material substance is infinitely divisible, he denies that the quantitative parts of a whole continuous homoge- neous substance are themselves substances. In what follows, I present some of Scotus’ reasons for denying that the elements are actual part-substances of the material substances compounded from them, with an eye to pinpointing the difference between the elements of a compound substance like bone and the sort of substance that is composed of part-substances, such that the latter but not the former actually exist in the sub- stances they make up. The difference lies, I argue, in the natural efficient- and final-causal activity of elemental substances and organic part-substances. Only substances whose natural functions are for the sake of the functioning of the whole and of other parts of the whole are the sort of substances that naturally are part-substances, and elemental substances have no such functions; their natural functions, if they have functions, are to move to their respective sublunary places.

1 For exceptionally clear exposition of Scotus’ arguments for infinite divisibility, see Cecilia Trifogli, “Scotus and the Medieval Debate about the Continuum,” Medioevo 29 (2004), pp. 233–266.

The Mereological Status Of The Elements In A Mixture 127

Anneliese Maier concluded that medieval attempts to combine a metaphys- ical analysis of substance into matter and form with a chemical analysis of substance as a mixture of elements were ultimately unsuccessful, and that no such attempt could be successful. As she saw it, the chemical and meta- physical analyses were fundamentally irreconcilable—a medieval version of Eddington’s Two Tables.2

Scholastic philosophy treated material substance in two ways: as a com- posite (compositum) of matter and form and as a compound (mixtum) of the four elements—earth, water, air, and fire. The first interpretation derived from scholastic-Aristotelian metaphysics, while the second, the theory of the elements, played a fundamental role in numerous medieval disciplines and was a self-contained, fully developed system. Both theo- ries deal with the question of the structure of physical substance and each offers a solution, but the two answers do not coincide. The meta- physical approach cannot be squared with the viewpoint of natural philosophy.3

I myself do not share Maier’s pessimism; I think that Scotus’s solution is suc- cessful in the sense that it is consistent and is rooted in deep-structure theo- retical commitments about composition and unity. In short, as Scotus thinks that organs potentially compose an organism because they are essentially ordered to each and in that sense unified, so he denies that elements poten- tially compose a compound substance—elements are not and cannot be essentially ordered to each other. i Mixed Opinions about Mixtures

According to the Greek chemistry utilized by scholastic philosophers, the four elements—fire, air, water, and earth—are the basic ingredients of every mate- rial substance;4 in Scotus’s words, they are “the lowest bodies and the first from

2 Arthur Eddington, The Nature of the Physical World (New York City and Cambridge, uk: The MacMillan Company and Cambridge University Press, 1929), pp. ix–xvii. 3 Anneliese Maier, “The Theory of the Elements and the Problem of the Participation in the Compound,” in On the Threshold of Exact Science: Selected Writings of Anneliese Maier on Late Medieval Natural Philosophy, ed. and trans. Steven D. Sargent (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1982), pp. 124–142, especially pp. 125–126. 4 For an introduction to medieval chemistry, see Anneliese Maier, “The Theory of the Elements and the Problem of the Participation in the Compound.”

128 Chapter 8 which others are generated.”5 Theoretically each can exist unmixed with any other, and discrete quantities of a pure element are themselves sub- stances, capable of acting on surrounding material substances, including other elemental substances.6 Like any natural substance, an elemental substance produces its characteristic effect, and occupies its characteristic place, when- ever it can, e.g., fire strives to heat and to move to the outermost region of the . According to Aristotle each element has characteristic qual- ities: fire is hot and dry, air is wet and hot, water is cold and wet, and earth is dry and cold.7 Elements can be combined to make up substances with natures distinct from the nature of any individual element. The precise nature of a mixture of the ele- ments is supposed to be in some sense determined by the proportion of the elements that make it up. Importantly, a mixture of elements is distinguished from a mere juxtaposition of elements. In a juxtaposition the elements are sim- ply next to one another, like a blend of spices. In a mixture no quantitative part, however small, is a pure elemental body; according to Aristotle, “If combination has taken place, the compound must be uniform—any part of such a com- pound being the same as the whole, just as any part of water is water.”8 The dialectical agenda of medieval discussions of the status of the elements in a mixture was set by Avicenna and Averroës.9 Avicenna held that the essences of the elements were “fixed and permanent” in a mixture, but their qualities were “changed and converted.”10 Averroës disagreed, holding that an

5 Lectura II, d.15, q.un, n.47 (Vatican XIX, p. 153), [S]unt infima corpora et sunt prima cor- pora ex quibus generantur alia. 6 The widespread medieval commitment to the idea that the elements are substances— composites of prime matter and substantial form—seems to have been the source of all of the hullabaloo about their status in the mixture. At the end of an era Suàrez was able to say that if the elements were not substances they would cause no mereological trouble: they would remain in the mixture. He himself thought they were substances, however, and adopted the Thomistic position that they remain in the mixture virtually. Francisco Suàrez, Disputationes Metaphysicae XV, sec.X, ed. Berton (Paris: Vivès, 1866), pp. 536–557. 7 Aristotle, On Generation and Corruption II.3 330b 4–5 (Barnes I, p. 540). 8 Ibid., I.10 328a 10–12 (Barnes I, p. 536). 9 For background, see Abraham Stone, “Avicenna’s Theory of Primary Mixture,” in Arabic Sciences and Philosophy 18 (2008), pp. 99–119; Rega Wood and Michael Weisberg, “Interpreting Aristotle on Mixture: Problems about Elemental Composition from Philoponus to Cooper,” Studies in the History and Philosophy of Science 35 (2004), pp. 681–706; Anneliese Maier, “The Theory of the Elements and the Problem of the Participation in the Compound.” 10 Avicenna, Sufficienta I. c.10 (Venice 1508, I, f.19rb), Et harum formae essentiales sunt fixae et permanentes, sed accidentia earum…mutantur et convertuntur. Quoted in Vatican XIX, p. 139.

The Mereological Status Of The Elements In A Mixture 129 element could not exist without its qualities. He held instead that both the ele- ments and their qualities remained in a mixture, but in a diminished way, such that the mixture itself is a medium between the elements and their qualities.11 Averroës thought both that one substance could be more or less intense than another of the same species, and that numerically the same substance could change in its degree of intensity, and it is specifically the second claim that is operative in his account of the existence of the elements in a mixture. Averroës holds that the substantial forms of elemental substances are dimin- ished and become as it were a medium between a substantial form and a quali- tative form. The qualities of the elements are also diminished, such that a mixture of these diminished elements exhibits a more or less uniform com- plexion—the fire in the mixture becomes cooler and moister, the water in the mixture becomes warmer and drier, and so on. Aquinas’s criticisms of Avicenna and Averroës and his own account of the status of the elements in a mixture were influential on subsequent thinkers, including non-Dominicans such as Scotus, Ockham, Buridan, and Albert of Saxony,12 and was a departure from the view of his teacher, Albert the Great, which was a modified Avicennan theory.13 When Peter Aureole surveyed the scholarly literature on the status of the elements, Aquinas’s view had become popular enough that he was able to distinguish three major perspectives: Avicenna’s, Averroës’s, and the Moderns’, where it is clear from the text that the Modern way is Aquinas’s.14 Against Avicenna Aquinas reasoned that, since no substance can have more than one substantial form, and since the elements were taken to be composites of prime matter and substantial form, at best a mixture of elements could be an aggregate of very tiny bodies.

For it is impossible for the same matter to sustain diverse forms of ele- ments. If, therefore, in the mixed body the substantial forms of the ele- ments are preserved, it will be necessary for them to be in different parts of the matter. But it is impossible for matter to have different parts unless quantity is already understood to be in matter, for having taken away

11 Averroës De caelo III com. 67. [D]icemus quod formae istorum elementorum substantia- les sunt deminutae a formis substantialibus perfectis, et quasi suum esse est medium inter formas et accidentia. Quoted in Vatican XIX p. 143. 12 Ockham, Quodlibet III, q.5 (OTh IX, pp. 220–224); Buridan, De generatione et corruptione I, q.22 (Streijger, pp. 232–237); Albert of Saxony, De generatione et corruptione I, q.18, ed. Lockert (Paris, 1516), f. 141–142. 13 Albert the Great, De generatione et corruptione I, tr.6, c.5 (Cologne ed. V.2, p. 172). 14 Peter Aureole, Commentarium in secundum librum Sententiarum, d.15, a.1 (Rome: ex Typographia Vaticanae, 1596), p. 206.

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quantity the substance remains indivisible, as is clear from Physics I. But from matter existing under quantity and the arriving substantial form a physical body is constituted. Therefore the parts of matter subsist- ing under the forms of the elements take on the character of several bod- ies. But it is impossible for [one body] to be many bodies at once;15 therefore the four elements will not be in every part of the mixed body. And thus it will not be a true mixture, but an apparent one, as happens in an aggregation of bodies that are imperceptible on account of their smallness.16

Not only would such a mixture fail to be a true mixture, it would fail to be one body or substance. But every body was taken to be a mixture of elements. So Avicenna’s theory has the consequence that ordinary bodies like organisms are not per se unified. Against Averroës Aquinas asserted the authority of Aristotle: for two extremes to form a medium, they must be opposites within the same genus. For example, white and black are the extremes of an intermediate quality (grey) because they are both colors. Because a substance or substantial form and an accident do not belong to the same genus, they cannot make something intermediate between them.17 Moreover substances do not come in degrees and therefore do not admit of intermediaries.18 According to Aquinas, the elements do not actually exist in a substance. But the characteristic qualities of the elements interact in such a way that some intermediary quality is generated, and this intermediary quality disposes the matter of the elements to receive the form of the mixed body. When the form of the mixed body is received, the substantial forms of the elements recede.

15 This clause follows Paul Vincent Spade’s translation: http://pvspade.com/Logic/docs/ mixture.pdf. 16 Aquinas, De mixtione elementorum, Impossibile est enim materiam secundum idem diuersas formas elementorum suscipere; si igitur in corpore mixto formae substantiales elementorum saluentur, oportebit diuersis partibus materie eas inesse. Materie autem diuersas partes accipere est impossibile nisi preintellecta quantitate in materia, sublata enim quantitate substantia indiuisibilis permanet, ut patet in I Phisicorum; ex materia autem sub quantitate existente et forma substantiali adueniente corpus phisicum consti- tuitur: diuerse igitur partes materie formis elementorum subsistentes plurium corporum rationem suscipiunt. Multa autem corpora impossibile est esse simul; non igitur in qual- ibet parte corporis mixti erunt quatuor elementa: et sic non erit uera mixtio, sed secun- dum sensum, sicut accidit in aggregatione corporum insensibilium propter paruitatem. 17 Aristotle, Metaphysics X, 1057a18-34 (Barnes II, p. 1670). 18 Aristotle, Categories V, 3b24-4a7 (Barnes I, p. 7).

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But the elements continue to exist virtually due to the existence in the mixture of the intermediary quality.

It is necessary therefore to come up with some other way, by which both the truth of mixture is preserved, and by which the elements are not totally corrupted, but remain somehow in the mixture. It must be consid- ered therefore that the active and passive qualities of the elements are contrary to each other, and are receptive or more and less. But from con- trary qualities that receive more and less, there can be constituted a mid- dle quality that shares in the nature of both extremes, just as pallor between white and black, and warm between hot and cold. So, therefore, the excellence of the qualities of the elements remitted, there is consti- tuted from these a certain middle quality that is the proper quality of the mixed body, differing however in diverse bodies according to a diverse proportion of the mixture, and this certain quality is the proper disposi- tion for the form of the mixed body, as a simple quality is for the form of a simple body. Therefore, just as extremes are found in the middle that participates in the nature of both, so the qualities of the simple bodies are found in the proper quality of the mixed body. But the quality of the simple body is something other than its substantial form; nevertheless it acts by the power of the substantial form; otherwise, heat would only heat, while through its action the substantial form would not be educed in the action, since nothing acts beyond its species. So, therefore, the powers of the substantial forms of the simple bodies are preserved in the mixed bodies. There are then forms of the elements in mixed bodies, not in act but in power.19

19 Aquinas, De mixtione elementorum, Oportet igitur alium modum inuenire, quo et ueritas mixtionis saluetur, et tamen elementa non totaliter corrumpantur, sed aliqualiter in mixto remaneant. Considerandum est igitur quod qualitates actiue et passiue elemento- rum contrarie sunt ad inuicem, et magis et minus recipiunt. Ex contrariis autem qualitati- bus que recipiunt magis et minus, constitui potest media qualitas que sapiat utriusque extremi naturam, sicut pallidum inter album et nigrum, et tepidum inter calidum et frigi- dum. Sic igitur remissis excellentiis qualitatum elementarium, constituitur ex hiis quedam qualitas media que est propria qualitas corporis mixti, differens tamen in diuer- sis secundum diuersam mixtionis proportionem; et hec quidem qualitas est propria dis- positio ad formam corporis mixti, sicut qualitas simplex ad formam corporis simplicis. Sicut igitur extrema inueniuntur in medio quod participat naturam utriusque, sic quali- tates simplicium corporum inueniuntur in propria qualitate corporis mixti. Qualitas autem simplicis corporis est quidem aliud a forma substantiali ipsius, agit tamen in uir- tute forme substantialis; alioquin calor calefaceret tantum, non autem per eius actionem

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Scotus adopted the basic Thomistic solution, denying that the elements actu- ally in the mixture but trying to carve out some way in which they exist in the mixture virtualiter. Although he apparently held the Averroistic view according to which one substance could be more or less intense than another of the same species, he denied that numerically the same substance could diminish or intensify according to its substantial form.20 Thus he could not adopt the Averroistic theory of the elements, according to which one and the same ele- mental substance moves from a high degree of intensity outside of the mixture, to a low degree of intensity within the mixture. His rejection of the Avicennan theory is, as I have already indicated, somewhat surprising, since Scotus’s plu- ralism about substantial form enables him in general to hold that one sub- stance can have many substances as parts. All the more surprising is that Scotus seems to think that the principle of parsimony alone should establish that the elements do not remain in a mixture. He writes, “If, against [Avicenna’s] way, I had nothing other than ‘plurality is not to be posited without necessity,’ I would not proclaim this way.”21 Yet Scotus offered additional arguments for his view, and in the following sections I analyze several of these, mostly tracking the arguments given in Lectura II, d.15, q.un, but at times looking abroad. ii The Argument from Quantitative Forms

In the argument from quantitative forms Scotus reasons from the premise that every material substance has its own quantitative form.

forma substantialis educeretur in actum, cum nichil agat ultra suam speciem. Sic igitur uirtutes formarum substantialium simplicium corporum in corporibus mixtis saluantur. Sunt igitur forme elementorum in corporibus mixtis, non quidem actu sed uirtute. 20 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VIII, qq.2-3, nn.220, 233 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 477, 484). Scotus held the first apparently only on the basis of Proposition 124 of Bishop Tempier’s list of condemned propositions in 1277: Quod inconveniens est ponere aliquos intellectus nobiliores aliis, quia, cum ista diversitas non posset esse a parte corpo- rum, oportet quod sit a parte intelligentarium: et sic animae nobiles et ignobiles essent necessario diversarum specierum, sicut intelligentiae—Error, quia sic anima Christi non esset nobilior anima Iudae. “That it is unfitting to posit that some minds are more noble than others because, since that diversity could not be on the part of the body, it would be necessary that it be on the part of the minds: and so souls noble and ignoble would neces- sarily be of diverse species, just like minds—Error, because then the soul of Christ would not be nobler than the soul of Judas.” Cf. Chartularium Universitatis Parisiensis, prop. 124, ed. H. Denifle and A Chatelain (Paris 1889, p. 1550). 21 Lectura II, d.15, q.un, n.21 (Vatican XIX, p. 143), Sed si contra hanc viam non haberem aliud nisi “pluralitas non est ponenda sine necessitate,” hanc viam non dicerem.

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[E]very positive accident has for its proper subject a composite sub- stance, and consequently no quantity is in prime matter as in its proper subject; similarly, there is no quantity which follows a form that is prior to the form of an element (because one posits that as the first), but flesh [a kind of mixture] is quantified and has its proper quantity. Either there- fore the forms of the elements have their proper quantities, or not. If not, then there would be some generable and corruptible form without its proper quantity, which I hold to be unfitting. But if each one has its proper quantity, then there will be several quantities at once, because “every part of the mixed is mixed.”22

A mixture is a material substance, so it has its own quantitative form. If the elements remain in a mixture, then they have their own quantitative forms since they too are substances in their own right. But it is a feature of any true mixture that “every part of the mixed is mixed.” So if the elements remain in a mixture, then for any quantitative part of a mixture, each element present in that mixture exists in that part—every part is fire and every part is earth and so on. Therefore the quantities of these elements exist in every part as well. In the text that Wadding printed as Ordinatio II, d.15, q.un,23 Scotus or someone writing

22 Lectura II, d.15, q.un, n.22 (Vatican XIX, pp. 144–145), Praeterea, omne accidens positivum habet pro subiecto proprio substantiam compositam, et per consequens nulla quantitas est in materia prima ut in proprio subiecto; similiter, nulla quantitas est quae consequitur formam priorem forma elementari (quia illam ponit primam), sed caro est quanta et habet propriam quantitatem. Aut igitur formae elementares habent suas proprias quanti- tates, aut non. Si non, tunc esset aliqua forma generabilis et corruptibilis sine propria quantitate, quod habeo pro inconvenienti. Si autem quaelibet habeat propriam quantita- tem, tunc erunt plures quantitates simul, quia “quaelibet pars mixti est mixta.” 23 The Vatican editors left out d.12 (along with all of Book II, Distinctions 15–25) of their criti- cal edition (Vatican VIII). According to the editors these distinctions were originally parts of other works of Scotus or of William of Alnwick’s Additiones Magnae (Vatican VIII, p. 224), a compilation of Scotist material which is generally taken to be faithful to Scotus’s own mind. According to Thomas Williams, “Three manuscripts of Additiones 2 contain an explicit attributing the Additiones to Scotus and identifying Alnwick not as their author but as their compiler: ‘Here conclude the Additions to the second book of Master John Duns, extracted by Master William of Alnwick of the Order of Friars Minor from the Paris and Oxford lectures of the aforesaid Master John.’ In their earliest appearances, the Additiones were identified as an appendix to Scotus’s Ordinatio, but they gradually came to be inserted into the Ordinatio itself to supply material where Scotus had left the Ordinatio incomplete—a process that attests to the belief of Scotus’s contemporaries and immediate successors in the authenticity of the Additiones.” Thomas Williams, “Introduction,” The Cambridge Companion to Duns Scotus, ed. Thomas Williams. The

134 Chapter 8 ad mentem Scoti explains that the problem of several quantities existing in every part of the mixture is equivalent to the problem of co-located bodies. Scotus does not draw an explicit conclusion—the reader is left to wonder whether Scotus thinks that this result is absurd or merely embarrassing—but in either case the conclusion is supposed to be unwelcome. In the Reportatio II-A, d.15, q.un version of the argument Scotus writes,

The rationale [for denying that the elements remain in a mixture] is that quantity follows the composite, as a property of substance follows body. But the same property does not follow several supposits at once. Therefore it would be necessary that there would be as many quantities in act there as there are elements, and then there will be a juxtaposition of elements and not a mixture.24

Reportatio II-A takes for granted that elements never exist without their proper quantities, but modifies what is supposed to be problematic about a genuine mixture of several quantified bodies. Scotus assumes that if several bodies could occupy the same extended place, then they would all share numerically the same quantitative form. But several bodies cannot share numerically the same quantitative form (“the same property does not follow several supposits at once”). Therefore the elements cannot be truly mixed. At best there is just a juxtaposition of elements—many tiny bodies existing in close proximity to each other, but not composing one bodily substance. The arguments taken together generate the following dilemma: if the ele- ments remained in a mixture, either they would be co-located, or they would be merely juxtaposed. Exactly what is supposed to be problematic with these options is not totally clear, given some of Scotus’s other commitments. Co-location may be counter-intuitive, but Scotus argues that it is possible, if only for God.25 Scotus’s worry must be, then, that since no natural agent can

manuscript from which Williams quotes is Oxford, Balliol College, ms 208, f.40v. For addi- tional confirmation of the reliability of the Additiones Magnae, see Stephen Dumont, “Did Duns Scotus Change His Mind on the Will?” Miscellanea Mediaevilla 28 (2001), pp. 719–794. 24 Reportatio Parisiensis II-A, d.15, q.un, n.5 (Wadding-Vivès XXIII, pp. 64–65), Item rationale est quod quantitas consequatur compositum, sicut passio substantiae corpus; sed non sequitur eadem passio plura supposita immediata; igitur oportet quod sint tot quanti- tates in actu ibi, quot elementa, et tunc erit juxtapositio elementorum et non mixtum. 25 See Marilyn McCord Adams’s discussion in Some Later Medieval Theories of the Eucharist (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), pp. 111–138, and especially pp. 120–127. Also, Ordinatio IV, d.10, p. 1, q.2 (Vatican XII, pp. 77–109), especially n.159 (p. 101).

The Mereological Status Of The Elements In A Mixture 135 bring it about that several bodies exist in the same place at once, any mixture of the elements (a paradigm of natural change) would be miraculous. Mere juxtaposition would be problematic, since nothing made from the ele- ments would be genuinely one substance. But why think that juxtaposed elemental bodies are not in potency to a perfecting substantial form (such as the form of the mixture), analogous to the way in which several organic part- substances are in potency to the soul? In Wadding’s Ordinatio II, d.15, q.un, Scotus reasons,

If there are several forms of the elements in a mixed body, each one con- stitutes a supposit. Thus in every mixed body there would be several sup- posits, because there will be a supposit of water, and a supposit of fire [etc.] of which each one subsists per se by nature—which is unfitting. Likewise it is unfitting that one subsistent thing could have two specifi- cally different forms, of which one is not naturally perfected by the other— but this would be the case, if the elements were posited in the mixture according to their forms.26

The reason why the elements cannot exist in a mixed body is not, according to this text, because no substance (or supposit) can be composed of substances (or supposits). Instead, it is because elemental substances are not naturally perfected by the substantial forms either of the other elements or of the mixed body. But organic parts are so perfected. A mole heart and mole brain and so on come into existence for the sake of contributing to the overall functioning of Mole; they are tailor-made for him (or at least his kind). In arguing that some substances have a plurality of substantial forms, Scotus reasoned that the single esse of a composite substance can be constituted by several substan- tial forms, provided there is some final form whose special role it is to complete the substance:

[…T]he whole composite is one esse, and nevertheless includes many partial esse, just as a whole is one being and nevertheless has and includes

26 Ordinatio II, d.15, q.un, n.5 (Wadding VI, p. 753), Item, forma elementaris nata est cum materia constitutere suppositum per se subsistens in genere Substantiae: ergo si sint plures formae elementares in mixto, quaelibet constituet suppositum: & sic in omni mixto essent plura supposita, quia ibi erit suppositum aquae, & suppositum ignis, quo- rum quodlibet natum est per se subsistere: quod est inconveniens, inconveniens etiam est, quod subsistens possit habere duas formas specificas, quarum una non est nata per- fici ab alia: hoc autem poneretur, si elementa ponerentur in mixto secundum formas suas. (Italics mine.)

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many partial entities […Nevertheless] I concede that the total esse of the whole composite is principally through one form, and that is the form by which the whole composite is this being; but that [form] is the last, com- ing to all the preceding […And] I concede that that total esse is completed by one form […] An example of this is a composite of integral parts: for the more perfect is the animal, the more it requires many organs (and it is probable that these are of distinct species through substantial forms); and nevertheless it is more truly one…27

Scotus therefore thinks that no conjunction of elemental bodies is ever in potency to a further substantial form, such that they cannot both exist and be part-substances of a more complex substance. (And this must be why he says that if elements were actual in a mixture, they would be supposits, rather than substances, where a supposit is a substance that is not a part of another sub- stance and is of a determinate kind.) But why think that the elements are never thus in potency? Perhaps Scotus is assuming that the elements are never suit- ably ordered to one another to be together in potency to a perfecting substan- tial form. Recall from earlier chapters that Scotus argues that only when composing a unity of order are organic part-substances together in potency to a soul. I argued that this unity of order is at least one of two kinds of essential orders: final and efficient causality. One organic part comes to be for the sake of another as well as for the whole organism, and one organic part’s efficient causal activity enables the efficient causal activity of another organic part. If Scotus thinks that composing a unity of order in either or both of these senses is a necessary condition on n substances potentially composing one substance (by being together informed by one substantial form), then in the absence of such order(s) among elemental bodies, they are not potentially one substance. It is not clear to me how someone might go about thoroughly show- ing whether the elements can have such an order among themselves, but it is possible to take a couple steps in the right direction. First, it seems clear that

27 Ordinatio IV, d.11, p. 1, a.2 q.1, nn.251–254 (Vatican XII, pp. 255–256), […T]otius compositi est unum “esse,” et tamen includit multa “esse” partialia, sicut “totum” est unum ens et tamen multas partiales entitates habet et includit […Tamen] concedo totale “esse” totius compositi est principaliter per formam unam, et illa est forma, qua totum compositum est “hoc ens”; illa autem est ultima, adveniens omnibus praecedentibus […Et] conedo quod “esse” istud totale est completive ab una forma […] Exemplum huius est in com- posito ex partibus integralibus: quanto enim animatum est perfectius, tanto requirit plura organa (et probabile est quod distincta specie per formas substantiales); et tamen ipsum est verius unum…

The Mereological Status Of The Elements In A Mixture 137 no two elemental bodies of different kinds are efficient-causally ordered to one another, since the elements are naturally contrary to one another and, when two elemental bodies exist in proximity and one is more powerful than the other, the more powerful corrupts the less. Second, insofar as the elements can be described as final-causally ordered at all, it seems that the final cause of elemental motion is simply for each element to arrive at its proper location.28 To sum up, Scotus seems to argue that the elements are not co-located in a mixture because this would unsuitably involve miraculous intervention in a paradigmatically natural change. Elements are not merely juxtaposed in a mixture because, if they were, no mixed body would be a genuine substance. Given the natural efficient- and final-causal activity of elemental bodies, there is some reason to think that elemental bodies cannot be ordered to one another so as to compose something that is potentially one bodily substance. iii The Generation and Corruption Argument

In Scotus’s second argument he reasons from two common assumptions, first, that a mixture is generated from the elements, and second, that a mixture is corrupted into the elements.

Next, a mixture is generated from elements, and also a mixture is cor- rupted into elements: therefore it can be a term “from which” and a term “to which” of generation, just as the elements among themselves, of which one is generated from another and is corrupted into it. Therefore a mixture and the elements have incompossibility between them, as the elements have. Therefore just as one element does not remain in another, so neither will an element remain in a mixture.29

28 In On the Heavens, Aristotle says that the natural movement of the element, earth, is to the center of the cosmos, and that to reach the center is the element’s goal (II, 296a6-14 (Barnes I, p. 487)). He also says that the elements have functions (III, 298a24-34 (Bares I, p. 489)). And, in Parts of Animals he says that when there is a final end of action, the action is always for the sake of the final end (I, 642b24-26 (Barnes I, p. 998)). These in conjunction suggest that elements have final causes, and that these final causes are the goals of elemental natural motion. See the discussion in Caleb Kinlaw, “Elemental and an Interpretation of the Rainfall Example in Physics 2.8,” unpublished mas- ters thesis (University of Edinburgh, 2008), pp. 25–27. 29 Lectura II, d.15, q.un, n.23 (Vatican XIX, pp. 145), Praeterea, mixtum generatur ex elemen- tis, et etiam corrumpitur mixtum in elementa: potest igitur esse terminus “a quo” et

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The generation of one substance, s1 from another, s2, involves the corruption of s2. So if a mixture is generated from the elements, the elements are corrupted. But if they are corrupted when the mixture is generated, they cannot exist in the mixture. The generation and corruption argument is bad. Of course, if a mixture is generated from the elements in the normal Aristotelian fashion, such that the generation of one substance is always the corruption of another, then the elements are corrupted when a mixture is generated. But this is exactly what is at issue—whether or not the elements remain when a mix- ture is generated from them. What might be going on in the argument is that Scotus recognizes that any natural generation does involve the corruption of something. If the elements are not corrupted when a mixture is generated (supposing that they remain in a mixture) then what is? No other candidates are on offer. Even this, however, will not work given other of Scotus’s commit- ments. Scotus holds that a process of generation can be broken up into several stages. For example, he holds that in the generation of a blooded animal the heart is generated first, then the other organs, and finally the ani- mal itself when the soul begins to inform a sufficiently prepared organic body. The final stage—the union of the soul with the body—is strictly speak- ing the generation, according to Scotus.30 But this stage in the process does not involve the corruption of anything. The corruption requisite for the gen- eration of the animal occurs earlier in the process, at the generation of the first organ, and at the subsequent generations of other organs, as the devel- oping organic body changes nutriments into organic parts. Given this model, it could be open for Scotus to hold that the corruption requisite for the gen- eration of a mixture occurs at some early stage, say, when elements corrupt other elements and take on an arrangement and proportion that disposes them to receive a form of a mixed body. As it turns out, and as we will see in more detail below, Scotus does not think it is possible for a mixture to be generated by the activity of the elements on one another, but he thinks this for reasons altogether different from those advanced in the generation and corruption argument.

terminus “ad quem” generationis sicut elementa inter se, quorum unum generatur ex alio et corrumpitur in illud; igitur mixtum et elementum habent incompossibilitatem inter se qualem habent elementa: sicut igitur unum elementum non manet in alio, ita nec ele- mentum manebit in mixto. 30 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.52–53 (Bonaventure IV, pp. 393–394).

The Mereological Status Of The Elements In A Mixture 139 iv The Violence Argument

The violence argument reasons from the natural opposition of the elements. If the elements actually composed a mixed substance, at least one of the ele- ments would be there unnaturally since it would be out of its proper sublunary place and would strive to return there. But this violence is inconsistent with the stability and harmony of natural substances.

Next, if an element remained in a generated mixture, so that one element remained there and another [remained there], because there is there the quality of one element as well as another, therefore since the elements do not have the same place, only one element would be there naturally, and the other [would be there] violently, and consequently the parts of the mixed would be violently in the mixture—which is false, because a part has natural existence in the whole.31

Suppose two elements remained in a mixture, and that the mixture occupied the natural place of one the elements. For example, suppose a mixture of earth and fire were very close to the center of the earth. Then the fire in that mixture would be there violently rather than naturally—its natural tendency would be to move closer to the moon, whereas the earth in the mixture would stay put. In this case the mixture itself would be unnatural since its parts are together unnaturally. The problem however is that every material substance other than the pure elements are mixtures or are composed of mixtures. So if the ele- ments remained every material substance would be unnatural. This is false, Scotus says, “because a part has natural existence in the whole.”32 Presumably Scotus means something like, “A part has natural existence in the whole, if the whole is a natural substance, that is, a substance with a specific nature.” An opponent whom the Vatican editors identify as Richard of Middleton argued that the existence of the elements in a natural mixture explained the intrinsic corruption of substance.33 As Aristotle observed, material substances

31 Lectura II, d.15, q.un, n.7 (Vatican XIX, p. 139), Praeterea, si elementum maneret in mixto generato, qua ratione unum elementum ibi maneret, et aliud, quia ita est ibi qualitas unius elementi sicut alterius; igitur cum non habeant elementa eundem locum, tantum unum elementum esset ibi naturaliter et alia violenter, et per consequens partes mixti violenter essent in mixto—quod falsum est, quia pars habet naturale esse in toto. 32 Ibid. 33 Richard of Middleton, Quaestio de gradu formarum in corp. c.3, n.3 (PhM II, p. 125), quoted in Vatican XIX, p. 138, Nisi enim essent elementa in mixto…in ipsis mixtis non esset

140 Chapter 8 break down through both internal and external causes.34 In reply, Scotus asserted that while organic substances do undergo intrinsic corruption, inor- ganic substances do not, unacquainted as he was with radioactive decay: “if an extrinsic contrary agent were not corrupting the stone, supposing the general conservation of God, the stone would be conserved eternally just like the heav- ens.”35 If the elements remained in the stone, however, we would not expect it to be so stable. The fact that organic substances do undergo intrinsic corrup- tion is not, for Scotus, a good reason to suppose that in them the elements do remain. Scotus argues that their internal corruption can be explained by the fact that the parts of such substances are heterogeneous, with contrary domi- nating qualities. I will explore his reasons for thinking this in some detail later in this chapter. v Generation from the Elements

Based on the above arguments, among others, Scotus denies that the elements remain in a mixture.36 In what way, then, is a mixture a mixture of the ele- ments? Scotus recognizes the grammatical awkwardness and bites the bullet: the elements are not elements strictly speaking; in reality, prime matter and the kinds of substances that can be actual parts of other substances are truly elemental. Mixtures are, strictly speaking, mixtures of prime matter and sub- stantial form.37 Scotus argues that if the elements do not remain in a mixture, they cannot be the efficient causes of a mixture, since at the moment the mixture comes to be, ex hypothesi no element is there bringing it into being.38 Nor can a mixture

principium corruptionis intrinsecum…for unless the elements be in a mixture, there would not be in mixture itself a principle of intrinsic corruption. 34 Aristotle, On Youth, Old Age, Life and Death, and Respiration 23(17) 478b 24–26 (Barnes I, p. 760), There is violent death and again natural death, and the former occurs when the cause of death is external, the latter when it is internal… 35 Lectura II, d.15, q.un, n.43 (Vatican XIX, pp. 151). 36 Ibid., n.26 (Vatican XIX, p. 146). 37 Ibid., n.47 (Vatican XIX, p. 153), [D]ico quod secundum rei veritatem nomen “elementi” et eius definitio convenit materiae primae, et similiter materiae si habens formam priorem possit manere sub forma posteriore. Sed vere et proprie non convenit igni et aquae etc. “I say that according to the truth of the matter the name ‘element’ and its definition per- tain to prime matter, and similarly to the matter that, having a prior form, is able to remain under a posterior form. But truly and properly it does not pertain to fire and water, etc.” 38 Ibid., n.32 (Vatican XIX, p. 147).

The Mereological Status Of The Elements In A Mixture 141 be produced through any action of the elements on one another. Take two ele- ments, fire and water, where it is supposed that a mixture is generated from their mutual interaction (mutuo agentibus):

I ask: either fire remains when it corrupts water, or not; if not, therefore that which is nothing, corrupts another; if it remains, therefore after the corruption of water fire will remain.39

Scotus is therefore led to give an analysis of the generation of a mixture from the elements roughly in terms of ordinary cases of generation and corruption: an agent operates on a patient (one or more elemental bodies), educing a new substantial form (the form of the mixture) from the potency of the matter.40 He notes, however, this peculiar feature of the generation of mixtures: the mix- ture is more like the elements from which it is generated, than it is like its effi- cient cause.41 This entitles the elements to some sort of presence in a mixture, so Scotus says that they remain in the mixture sicut in effecti communi42 and also (though less frequently) virtualiter.43 As far as I can tell, all that Scotus means by the virtual presence of the elements in a mixture is that the dominat- ing quality of a mixture specifically resembles a mean quality of the elements from which the mixture is generated. Scotus does not attempt to explain why generation from the elements has this peculiar feature. Since he holds that both the substantial forms and quali- ties of the elements perish when the mixture is generated, he cannot explain the similarity of the mixture and the elements as a sharing of numerically the same qualities—with a new substance comes new accidents. Perhaps surpris- ingly, however, he thinks that the new qualities of the new mixture must also be specifically different from the qualities of the elements—the heat or cool- ness or moistness or dryness of a mixture is both numerically and specifically different from the four qualities of the four elements.44 Since Scotus does not in general hold that qualitative accidents of a certain kind can inhere in only one kind of substance, his denial that elemental qualities can inhere in mix- tures must be rooted in the idea that the elemental qualities are properties of

39 Ibid., n.30 (Vatican XIX, p. 147), [Q]uaero: aut ignis manet quando corrumpit aquam, aut non; si non igitur illud quod nihil est, corrumpit aliud—si maneat, igitur post corruptio- nem aquae remanebit ignis. 40 Ibid., n.35 (Vatican XIX, p. 148). 41 Ibid., n.38 (Vatican XIX, p. 149). 42 Ibid., nn.27, 38 (Vatican XIX, pp. 146, 149–150). 43 Ibid., n.38 (Vatican XIX, p. 150). 44 Ibid., n.39 (Vatican XIX, p. 150).

142 Chapter 8 the elements in the strict sense that they are necessary accidents belonging to one and only one kind of substance, in just the way that risibility is a property of a human. Just why it is that a mixture has qualities that resemble one or more of the elemental qualities is left unexplained, but the similarity of these qualities is the reason that it is correct to describe a mixture as having a domi- nating element, whose characteristic activities are similar to those of the char- acteristic activities of the element. vi Mixtures and Organic Parts

Richard of Middleton had argued that if the elements did not remain in a mix- ture, there would be no explanation of the intrinsic corruption that substances undergo. Scotus seems to have thought that an inanimate mixture (such as a stone) was totally impervious to internal corruption, and took this as evidence that the elements did not remain in mixtures. What then of substances, such as animals, that do suffer internal corruption? In Parts of Animals Aristotle theorized that organic parts are both homoge- neous and heterogeneous, where the heterogeneous parts are in some sense composed of homogeneous parts and the homogeneous exist for the sake of the heterogeneous. So for example bones, sinews, and flesh—homogeneous parts by Aristotle’s lights—compose and exist for the sake of parts like a hand or a face.45 Scotus adopts this basic division:

[A man] is composed of many and diverse parts, certain homogeneous and certain heterogeneous, which are suited to the diverse operations performed by a man, for which there come to be many organs, because one organ does not suffice for all of those performed operations […] But these diverse parts are composed of homogeneous parts […]46

Scotus reasons that while one mixture does not contain contrary elements as parts and therefore will not suffer internal corruption, one organism is composed of parts of different kinds of mixtures, all of which have their own

45 Aristotle, Parts of Animals II, 1 646b 11–27 (Barnes I, p. 1006). 46 Reportatio Parisiensis IV-A d.44, q.1, n.2 (Wadding XI, p. 854), Deinde componitur ex mul- tis et diversis partibus, quibusdam homogeneis et quibusdam heterogeneis, quae congru- unt diversis operationibus ab homine excercendis, quarum nata sunt esse plura organa, quia unum organum non sufficit ad omnes illas operationes excercendas […] Hae autem partes diversae componuntur ex partibus homogeneis […]

The Mereological Status Of The Elements In A Mixture 143 dominating element and associated dominating quality, what Scotus calls their complexions (complexiones):

Just as the organic parts in an animal have different substantial forms (as it will be said in Book III47) so also they have different predominating qualities […] I say then that the parts of animals have various and diverse complexions, just as the brain is cold and the heart is hot, and when in the brain coldness excessively dominates, then the other parts are made colder, against their natural complexions; and thus corruption is caused in the animal when the principal parts are excessively altered by contrary qualities.48

Scotus’s account here leaves it an open possibility that some organic parts are themselves composed of mixtures with contrary complexions, such that an organ itself can be corrupted both from within and from without, i.e., from other organs of the same organism. Presumably the only internally stable organic parts are those which are not composed of mixtures of contrary com- plexions, and I take it that such parts would be the homogeneous parts, since any heterogeneous part is by definition composed of more than one kind of mixture, and for any two distinct kinds of mixtures they will have distinct and therefore (to some extent) contrary qualities. For example, if one part of a het- erogeneous part is slightly hotter than another part of the same heterogeneous part, the two will be opposed with respect to hot and cold (even if it is only a light skirmish), and therefore the heterogeneous part will be susceptible to internal corruption. Presumably, the homogeneous parts, like stones, will only be susceptible to external corruption, since each part of a homogeneous part will have the same complexion. This suggests that, in a Scotistic analysis of part-substances, once you get to the homogeneous substances—e.g., “fleshes and bones”49—you get to the bottom of things. The four elements then are not

47 Lectura III d.2, q.3 (Vatican XX, pp. 110–117). 48 Lectura II, d.15, q.un, nn.41–42 (Vatican XIX, pp. 150–151), Unde sicut partes organicae in animali habent alias formas substantiales (ut in III dicetur) ita etiam habent alias quali- tates praedominantes […] Dico tunc quod partes animalis habent varias et diversas com- plexiones, sicut cerebrum est frigidum et cor calidum; et quando in cerebro nimis dominatur frigiditas, tunc magis frigidat alias partes, contra naturalem complexionem earum—et sic corruptio causatur in animali quando partes principales nimis alterantur secundum qualitates contrarias. 49 Reportatio Parisiensis IV-A d.44, q.1, n.2 (Wadding XI, p. 854), carnibus et ossibus.

144 Chapter 8 for him the fundamental building blocks of pluriformed material substances. This role belongs instead to the homogeneous mixtures, those mixtures com- posed of prime matter and exactly one substantial form.50

50 Of course, homogeneous mixtures can be divided into smaller portions, each of which is of the same kind as the whole mixture and of the same kind as every other portion. But Scotus does not seem to think that such portions are actual individual substances while they compose a homogeneous mixture. Any region of a homogeneous mixture is merely a potential homogeneous substance. For preliminary studies of Scotus’s metaphysics of continua, see Chapter 8 of Richard Cross, The Physics of Duns Scotus, pp. 139–158, and Neil Lewis, “Space and Tme,” in The Cambridge Companion to Duns Scotus, pp. 69–99.

Chapter 9 Why the World is Not a Substance

That the world is in some sense a whole is undeniable. It is therefore undeni- able that the world is in some sense unified. Since the world is evidently com- plex, and undeniably unified, it makes sense to speak of the things in the world as parts of the world, and therefore as composing the world. But as we have seen throughout this book, Scotus recognizes several kinds of composition, and the kind of composition that the things in the world make when they make up the world is, Scotus claims, a unity of order, which is the sort of unity things have when they are essentially ordered. Scotus thinks that everything in the world is essentially ordered to a first efficient and final cause, God, and through this common cause also essentially ordered to everything else in the world. In fact, Scotus thinks that being a world simply consists in the totality of things being essentially ordered.1 The essential order of all things to each other and to God is precisely the difference between these things composing a world and these things just being lots and lots of things. As a consequence of this understanding of the world’s unity, where there are completely distinct unities of order, ipso facto there are distinct worlds. If there were two first causes, each with their own effects, then there would be two worlds, “because these beings and those will not be ordered to each other nor to the same thing.”2

1 De Primo Principio III.49 (Wolter, pp. 64–65), Sine unitate ordinis non est unitas universi. One consequence of Scotus’s view that the unity of the world is a unity of order, a consequence not discussed in this chapter except in this footnote, is that since a whole unity of order is nothing over and above its parts (the terms of the essential order and the relations these terms have toward each other) the whole world is identical with its parts, including its rela- tive parts—unlike a substance, which Scotus emphatically insists is a thing over and above its essential and integral parts. 2 De Primo Principio III.49 (Wolter, p. 65), [S]i sit aliud primum et aliorum, erit illorum aliud universum, quia entia illa et ista nec ordinabuntur inter se nec ad idem. Sine unitate ordinis non est unitas universi. Scotus recognizes the possibility that there might be more than one such unity of order, and that any additional unities of order would constitute different uni- verses from our own. Any such additional universe, if it contained more than one thing, would be composed of things that are essentially ordered to each other but not essentially ordered to anything in our universe. Given Scotus’s understanding of what makes things into a universe of things, it is logically impossible for God to create more than one universe, since everything God creates is essentially ordered to God and therefore constitutes one universe. So for there to be two or more universes, there must be two or more beings necessary of themselves, that is, two or more Gods. But by the principle of parsimony we should not

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146 Chapter 9

The concept of unity of order has already made some appearances in this book. Recall from Chapter 6 that Scotus describes the sort of unity that a com- plex subject has when it is in potency to a substantial form as a unity of order; for example, in embryological development organic parts are generated prior to ensoulment and are in potency to soul only when they are sufficiently devel- oped and together compose a unity of order. This sort of unity simply repre- sents on a local scale exactly the sort of unity that obtains on a cosmic scale. Unity of order also made an appearance in Chapter 8, in which I examined whether Scotus’s denial that elemental substances—the four chemical elements: earth, water, air, and fire—actually compose mixed substances is consistent with his affirmation that in general and in the particular case of organic substances, substances can and do actually compose more complex substances. The conclusion was that he is consistent. There are principled rea- sons why he denies for elemental substances what he affirms for other sorts of substances, one of which is that the four chemical elements are not capable of composing a unity of order and therefore are not capable of co-instantiating one of the necessary conditions for being part-substances. If the last chapter was about chemistry, this one is about cosmology. The fact that Scotus countenances part-substances motivates an investigation not only into the reasons why he denies that elemental substances are actual part- substances, but also into the reasons why he denies that the world as a whole is a single substance composed of all other substances. If a “medium-sized dry good” like an organism can be and is composed of substances, of what substance(s) might an organism itself be a part-substance? Could it be that a substance like Mr. Mole is not after all a substance that is composed of sub- stances but composes no other substances—a natural terminus of substantial composition—but is himself just a part-substance of some yet more complex substance? And, could it be that the composition of part-substances continues all the way up, to the composition of one world-substance? In some sense of could, the answer to both questions is yes, according to Scotus. But, according to Scotus, Mole is not in fact a part-substance of any- thing else and the world is not in fact a single substance. Figuring out just why is tricky. At first glance, if an organic body is in potency to a substantial form or soul in virtue of its parts exhibiting a unity of order, why not suppose that the world itself is in potency to a substantial form or soul? Why not be, to coin a phrase, a hylomorphic monist [HM]?

needlessly posit entities, including Gods and universes. So we should not hold that there are any others but this universe and its God. De Primo Principio III.26 (Wolter, pp. 57–59).

Why The World Is Not A Substance 147

[HM] The world is one substance, composed of matter and form. Its form is the forma mundi and its matter is everything in the world except the forma mundi.

That [HM] is at least possible is supported by Scotus’s contention that many substances can and do have part-substances, parts that are themselves sub- stances. Unsurprisingly, though, Scotus rejects [HM]. From the fact that both the world and an organic body such as Mole’s fetus are unities of order we can- not infer that the world is in potency to a substantial form or soul, since there could be, as Scotus thinks there are, other reasons why Mole’s fetus is in potency to a substantial form, which do not apply to the unity of order that is the world itself.3 The examination of these reasons yields a counter-intuitive conclusion: there is no significant metaphysical difference between the sort of substance that naturally composes a substance, such as a heart, and the sort of substance that does not, such as Mole. Or, to be more precise, there is no difference between these sorts of substances that is relevant to questions about composi- tion.4 This chapter argues for this conclusion and also offers Scotus’s reasons for denying that the world as a whole is a substance, and specifically for deny- ing [HM]. The plan is, first, to motivate interest in the admittedly abstruse question of whether the world is a single substance by saying some things about what is at stake in answers to the question. Then I will present three arguments for denying that the world is a substance. The second and third of these are Scotus’s own arguments and the first is inspired by him.

3 Scotus’s opposition to the idea that the world as a whole is a hylomorphic compound or any kind of substantial unity runs against a venerable tradition in philosophy. Timaeus teaches that the world as a whole is a living thing (30b), as does Philebus (30a-d), and A.E. Taylor traces this idea back to Anaximines in A Commentary on Plato’s Timaeus (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1962), p. 81. Some Stoics conceived of God as something like a form or soul of the whole world; see texts and discussion in The Hellenistic Philosophers, Volume 1: Translations of the Principal Sources, with Philosophical Commentary, ed. A.A. Long and D.N. Sedley (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), pp. 274−279; and F.H. Sandbach, The Stoics, 2nd ed. (Indianapolis, in: Hackett, 1989), pp. 69−75. As late as the twelfth century Honorius Augustodunensis likened the world to an egg and its elements to the parts of an egg. See De Imagine Mundi, Liber I, c.1 (PL 172, col.0121A). 4 The one significant difference between such substances is that those that are not naturally apt to be part-substances belong to some determinate Aristotelian natural kind. But this fact is not relevant to the question about whether these substances can compose another sub- stance, as we saw in Chapter 7.

148 Chapter 9 i Motivating Monism

Scotus thinks that there are part-substances, substances that are themselves parts of other substances, but it is clear that he thinks that many substances are not naturally parts of other substances. Mole, for example, is not naturally a part of any other substance, even though he is a part of many other kinds of things: the Riverbank community, the story called The Wind in the Willows, an ecosystem, the mereological sum of Mole and all the stoats, and so on. It is also clear that he thinks that many things which are naturally part-substances, such as organs, are not necessarily part-substances. (A kidney in an organ bank is not a part-substance while it is in the organ bank, but it is a substance none- theless.) So Scotus thinks that some substances naturally are parts while some naturally are not. Scotus does not discuss, as far as I have been able to determine, what it is about some substances that makes them unapt for being part-substances. However, he indirectly discusses what it is about the non-substantial wholes that some substances do in fact compose such that these non-substantial wholes are not substances. In an argument discussed below, Scotus argues that the world is not a substance because it has no special operation that cannot be reduced to the operation(s) of one or more of its parts.5 The unity of the world is merely a unity of order and not a substantial unity. On the assumption, then, that having some non-reducible operation of a whole is both necessary and sufficient for that whole’s being a substance, we can say that, of the wholes of which substances like Mole or Socrates are in fact parts, such as the world, an ecosystem, a city, and so on, these are not substances, and Mole or Socrates are therefore not part-substances, because these wholes do not have some one operation that cannot be reduced to the operation(s) of one or more of their parts.6 Still, what we would like is something stronger, something that tells us not just why the non-substantial wholes that substances like Mole or Socrates make up are not substances, but also why substances like Mole or Socrates are not apt to make up other substances. Could there be, even if there is not in fact, a substance which had Socrates as a part, analogous to the way in which Socrates’ heart is a part-substance of Socrates? I think that Scotus’s answer should be yes, for reasons having to do with his metaphysics of the incarnation and his theory of essential orders. I think that

5 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.51 (Bonaventure IV, p. 393). 6 In Ordinatio IV, d.24, q.un (Wadding IX, p. 515), Scotus says that, like the unity of the world, the unity of the Church and the unity of the State are unities of order.

Why The World Is Not A Substance 149

Scotus thinks that there is no meaningful distinction between these two sorts of substance. To show this, it will be helpful first to describe what I take to be a natural intuition or commonsense view about the differences between natural part-substances like organs and natural non-part-substances like organisms, a view that Scotus will ultimately deny. The special mark of a part-substance, we might suppose, is that it has no essential activity that is not for the sake of some other substance. The para- digm here is an organ of an organism. To say what an organ is for, or even to say what it does, is to specify its role in the life of something else—its organism. The eyes are for seeing, the ears are for hearing, the liver is for filtering blood, and the heart is for pumping blood; but eyes don’t see nor do the ears hear, and the heart pumps and the liver filters not their own blood but something else’s. These things, we might say, are teleologically instrumental. Contrast teleologically instrumental substances with what we can call teleo­ logically autonomous substances. Complete organisms, for example, do have some essential activity that is not for the sake of some other substance. A man might be a part of many things—a family, a state, an orchestra—and some if not all of what it means to be a part of such things is to do certain things for their sakes: he supports his spouse, raises his children, pays taxes, votes, prac- tices his instrument, performs with his colleagues, etc. But by referencing the man’s actions to other things we don’t (and don’t intend to) mean that these things are what the man is for, as we do mean that the heart is for pumping blood when we say that it pumps blood. We might say that qua member of an orchestra a man’s activities are ordered to the end for which the orchestra exists; even his eating and sleeping, again qua member of an orchestra, are ordered to the orchestra, since these activities are necessary for the man to keep on playing. But we would not say that the man simpliciter plays for the orchestra, or eats and sleeps so he can keep on playing. His playing for the orchestra is one slice of a wide range of ends that his playing an instrument serves. For example, he might play for camaraderie, for health, for pleasure, or for money, and none of these things involves activity that is ordered to the good of something other than the man himself. And in addition to his playing he does many other things, some of which are ordered to things other than the man himself but not to his orchestra, and others of which are ordered to himself. So one way to cash out the difference between substances that naturally are part-substances and substances that naturally are not, is to say that the former are teleologically instrumental and the latter are teleologically autonomous. But Scotus would resist this distinction. He would deny that being teleologi- cally instrumental is the special mark of part-substances because he holds that

150 Chapter 9 everything and every activity is final-causally ordered to God, which is to say that the ultimate final cause of everything and every activity is God.7 Part of what this entails is that apparently teleologically autonomous activity (such as playing an instrument for pleasure) is itself ordered to some end that ulti- mately extends beyond the musician. Or, put more generally, there is nothing in the world of created nature and no activity in the world of created nature, that is truly for its own sake.8 To the extent, therefore, that being essentially ordered is a mark of being the sort of unity that can be a substance, the whole world passes the test, and there is no relevant distinction between the final-causal relations of organs to an organism, on the one hand, and the final-causal relations of Socrates and Mole to other kinds of wholes, including the whole universe, on the other. Another cadre of reasons also clears the ground for the possible substance- hood of the whole world. Scotus’s metaphysics of the incarnation includes the claims (1) that in the hypostatic union with the Son of God a concrete individ- ual human nature is a part of the God-Man, Jesus Christ;9 (2) that the Son of God could have been hypostatically united with any created nature;10 (3) that the Son of God could have been hypostatically united to several created natures simultaneously,11 and for that matter, (4) that he could have been hypostati- cally united to the whole world.12 So any substance can be a part-substance,

7 De Primo Principio III.27–34 (Wolter, pp. 58–61). 8 Contra Aristotle, who did not anticipate Scotus’s Anselmian distinction between affectio commodi and affectio iustitiae. An unregulated affectio commodi would lead us to be true Aristotelians: we would think that our own happiness represents a genuine terminus of a final causal chain in nature. Scotus urges us to see as itself subordinated to higher ends. 9 Ordinatio III, d.11, q.3 (Vatican IX, pp. 373–378). Scotus’s official position is that the rela- tion of Christ’s human nature to the Son of God should be conceived along the lines of an accident’s dependence on its subject and not of the relation of part to whole. For analysis see Marilyn McCord Adams, Christ and Horrors: The Coherence of Christology (Cambridge: Cambride University Press, 2006), pp. 123–143; Richard Cross, The Metaphysics of the Incarnation: Thomas Aquinas to Duns Scotus (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002). But Scotus does imply that Christ, the God-Man, is a whole composed of the Son of God and an individual human nature. For discussion, see Richard Cross, The Metaphysics of the Incarnation, pp. 128–133. 10 Ordinatio III, d.1, p. 1, q.3, nn.126–127 (Vatican IX, pp. 57–58). 11 Ibid. 12 Ordinatio III, d.1, p. 1, q.1, nn.36–50 (Vatican IX, pp. 16–23). For the way that Scotus’s meta- physics of the incarnation inspires innovations in the theory of substance, see Marilyn McCord Adams, “What’s Metaphysically Special about Supposits? Some Medieval

Why The World Is Not A Substance 151 and the world can be a part of one substance, even if it cannot be a part-substance. So is it merely incidental, just a contingent feature of the way the world was set up, that substances like hearts and lungs are naturally parts of other substances, while substances like Mole and Socrates are naturally not parts of other substances? Scotus does not give us a final answer, but it seems to me that his answer should be yes. There is nothing about simply being a substance, of any kind, that precludes being able to be a part of a substance. ii The Argument from the Distinguishing of Forms

The previous section argued that there is no metaphysically significant way to characterize the difference between substances naturally apt to be part- substances and substances naturally apt not to be. One consequence of this conclusion is that there is no reason not to think that any material substance, regardless of its natural conditions, could be a part-substance. And since this consequence clears conceptual space for what I have called hylomorphic monism [HM], the idea that the world as a whole is one great hylomorphic compound having as its matter all the things in the world, in this section and the following sections I would like to present Scotus’s rea- sons for rejecting [HM]. There are really two distinct kinds of hylomorphic monism: unitarian hylo- morphic monism [UHM] and pluralistic hylomorphic monism [PHM]. They are distinguished in this way:

[UHM] There is just one substantial form in the world, which is the sub- stantial form of the world, the forma mundi.

[PHM] There is one substantial form of the world, the forma mundi, and many substantial forms of things in the world.13

Variations on Aristotelian Substance,” Aristotelian Society Supplemental Volume 79:1 (2005), pp. 15–52, along with Chapter 7, above. 13 We can distinguish these in another way, following Jonathan Schaffer’s helpful target/ count distinction. Both count by tokens but [UHM] targets (hylomorphic) substances and [PHM] targets substances that are not parts of other substances. [UHM] says that there is just one (hylomorphic) substance, whereas [PHM] says that there is just one substance that is not a part of another substance. Jonathan Schaffer, “Monism,” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2008 Edition), Edward N. Zalta (ed.), url = .

152 Chapter 9

According to [UHM], all of the things in the world, Mole, the Eifel Tower, my briefcase, the Rocky Mountains, and so on, are all parts of one substance and are not themselves substances. And according to [PHM] all of these things might turn out to be substances, and all the substances in the world are together the matter of the whole world, informed by forma mundi. Scotus’s two arguments against [HM] are specifically against [PHM], and I discuss these arguments in the following sections. In this section I present an argument against [UHM] which draws on some of the material of Chapter 5. Recall, from Chapter 5, that Scotus rejects

[DP] One form virtually contains many perfections, and can give differ- ent perfections to different parts of matter.

Scotus argued against [DP] by claiming that it entailed an impossibility, namely that one and the same thing, in this case a form, can be the subject of repug- nant perfections simultaneously. I criticized this argument on the grounds that the sense in which a form is the subject of perfections, whatever it amounts to, does not amount to a form being characterized by its perfections. A form, let’s say, whose quantitative totality is a map or blueprint for making one part of matter square and another part circular, is not itself square and circular. Scotus might have argued against [DP] on the grounds that it is incompati- ble with a hylomorphic analysis of change. In Chapter 5 I argued on Scotus’s behalf that, if repugnant perfections can be virtually contained in one form, then every perfection can be virtually contained in one form, a forma mundi, but that on the supposition that there is just one form of the whole world, we lose whatever motivation we have for being hylomorphists; therefore a hylomorphist should reject the forma mundi. Here I would like to develop this argument a bit more. The Aristotelian argument from change, discussed in Chapter 1, distin- guishes matter from form in order to explain how change occurs, both substan- tial and accidental change. A subject is able to undergo change not on the basis of what it is (form), but on the basis of what it can be (matter). So matter is the potentiality of a subject to undergo change. Pale Socrates can become tan because the pallor of Socrates is a thing really distinct from Socrates himself, who can be the subject of pallor, or tanness, or several other colors. A second way to motivate the distinction between form and matter, namely by reflecting on the distinction between a thing and what a thing is made of, is ultimately parasitic on the argument from change. We know that the statue is not altogether the same thing as the clay it is made of, because we know that the statue can be destroyed without the clay being destroyed. Even if the clay

Why The World Is Not A Substance 153 and the statue began to exist at the same time (perhaps the ingredients of the clay were mixed together in a statue mold) and ceased to exist at the same time (perhaps the clay statue was incinerated in an extremely hot furnace), we would still know that they were not identical because we know that they differ in their modal properties: the clay could have gone on existing while the statue ceased to exist, if something else had happened.14 A hylomorphic analysis of the relationship between the clay and the statue yields that the clay is a part of the statue (its matter), and that the statue itself is a composite of its matter and a form, statue-form. The fact of change or the possibility of change are the data meant to be explained by the hylomorphist’s recourse to a division between form and matter. It might be argued that there is a third motivation for hylomorphism, namely through reflection on the source or cause of the unity of a complex object like an organism. The thought would be that something besides mate- rial parts is needed to explain the special kind of unity that some material objects have. But ask, why? Why is something besides these needed to explain this unity? If you really want to get an argument for hylomorphism from unity off the ground, you need to supply additional motivation, and the relevant kind of additional motivation is going to invoke something about change. The organism, you might argue, cannot be identical with its material parts, because organisms are just the sort of objects that survive the gain and loss of material parts. In order to explain how this is possible we need some sort of unifying force or principle, such that wherever that unifier is unifying some material parts, you have the very same organism. But this argument for hylomorphism hearkens back to the argument from change; the source or cause of the unity of an object, for most complex, structured material objects, only becomes a metaphysical problem when we start wondering how such an object can stay unified through change. Still, not every structured material object can survive the gain and loss of parts; or, at least, for many objects it is not obvious whether they can survive the gain and loss of parts. And yet, for objects that cannot, or for many of them, it is meaningful to ask, “In virtue of what are they unified?” A ham sandwich, to

14 For a selective history of modern discussions of the philosophical issues at stake in the statue’s relation to the clay, see Alan Gibbard, “Contingent Identity,” Journal of Philosophical Logic 4 (1975), pp. 187–221; David Wiggins, Sameness and Substance Renewed (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001); Michael Rea, “The Problem of Material Constitution,” The Philosophical Review 104:4 (1995), pp. 525–552; Ryan Wasserman, “Material Constitution,” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 2009 (http://plato.stanford .edu/entries/material-constitution/#2).

154 Chapter 9 borrow an example from Kit Fine, might not be the sort of thing that can sur- vive the gain or loss of its parts—or at least its most important parts, bread and ham.15 Suppose it is not. Yet we know that the cause of its unity, its being a ham sandwich, is something in addition to its bread and ham. We know this because we could have this bread and ham and not have the sandwich, by rearranging bread and ham and thus destroying the sandwich, or by neglecting to arrange the bread and ham and so never producing a sandwich. So when the bread and ham do compose a sandwich there is something besides the bread and ham— and hylomorphists traditionally call this something else a form. The ham sandwich might, for some, motivate the idea that we ought to invoke hylomorphism not only as an account of what unifies an object dia- chronically, through time and change, but also as an account of what unifies an object, such as a ham sandwich, synchronically, at a time. Of course, if hylo- morphism is a good account of diachronic unity then it’s a good account of synchronic unity, too, since if an organism is unified through time by its form then it’s unified by its form at every time in the duration of time through which it is unified. So in this sense we can invoke hylomorphism as an account of synchronic unity. But would we ever be interested in an account of the unity of a complex object at a time and not really be interested in the unity of such an object through time, as a subject (and agent) of change? The ham sandwich might interest us in such an account, because the sandwich, at a time, has a certain structure that cannot be reduced to its bread and ham. So to account for its being a sandwich right now we have to appeal (says the hylomorphist) to form. But even here, we are led to postulate the existence of a sandwich form because we know that a sandwich is the sort of thing the ingredients of which preexist the sandwich and can survive the sandwich. Sandwiches, in other words, begin to exist after their parts begin to exist and can cease to exist before their parts cease to exist (by taking apart the sandwich). Were it not for these facts about sandwiches, we would never come to know or ever have good rea- son to postulate the existence of sandwich forms. So I maintain that all roads to hylomorphism merge into the boulevard of the need to account for change or the possibility of change, and I assert the following thesis, which I will call Motivation [M]:

[M] Any version of hylomorphism that does not or cannot explain change or the possibility of change, should be rejected as theoreti- cally wasteful; it’s multiplying entities without necessity.

15 Kit Fine, “Things and Their Parts,” Midwest Studies in Philosophy 23 (1999), pp. 61–74.

Why The World Is Not A Substance 155

My argument against [UHM] in brief is that, since a forma mundi cannot explain change, according to [M] a hylomorphist should deny that there is a forma mundi and hence deny that the world is a substance, or more precisely deny [UHM]. And in general, if we show that a candidate version of hylomor- phism does not or cannot explain change, then we show (not, strictly speaking, that it’s false, but) that there is no good reason to accept it. If a version of hylo- morphism entails either that there is no change in the world (either substan- tial or accidental change), or that there is change but every change is something other than a change of substantial forms in matter (hylomorphic substantial change) or a change of accidental forms in a substance (hylomorphic acciden- tal change), then that version of hylomorphism should be rejected. This is what the following argument against [UHM] shows.

[U1] If [UHM], then (a) either the world does not have any part- substances, or (b) it does have part-substances but these part- substances are not composites of matter and their own substantial forms.

For [U1b] I have in mind non-hylomorphic theories of substance, such as a Lockean “bare particular” or Humean “bundle” view of substance.16 [U1a] is the view that all the things in the world are either (non-substantial) parts of, or properties of, the world. First I will argue against the second disjunct of [U1], [U1b].

[U2] If [U1b], then (a) it is not the case that a true account of substan- tial change requires a division between substantial form and mat- ter, or (b) there is no substantial change in the world.

[U2a] violates [M]. It violates [M] because it holds that hylomorphism is true but that hylomorphism is irrelevant to a theory of substantial change. So,

16 It seems entirely possible to me that, of several theories of the metaphysical structure of material substances on offer, T1…Tn, T1 might accurately describe some substances in the world and not others, T2 might accurately describe substances T1 does not, and so on. A hylomorphist has no reason to think that all substances are hylomorphic; only sub- stances that undergo or can undergo change come into the hylomorphist’s consideration. If there are things that (a) do not and cannot change and (b) for whatever reason deserve the title “substance,” we would use or develop some non-hylomorphic theory to describe their metaphysical structure.

156 Chapter 9

[U3] not-[U2a].

[U4] If [U2b], then (a) there is no change in the world, or (b) there is only accidental (that is, non-substantial) change in the world.

[U4a] simply rejects the data that hylomorphism is designed to explain, so

[U5] not-[U4a].

[U6] If [U4b], then (a) At least some accidental change in the world is hylo- morphic (i.e., the advent of a new accidental form in the world and the recession of a prior accidental form from the world), or (b) none is.

[U6b] violates [M] because it holds that hylomorphism is true but that hylomorphism is irrelevant to a theory of accidental change. So,

[U7] not-[U6b].

This leaves [U6a]. It asserts that some accidental change in the world is hylomorphic. Is there good reason to think that according to [UHM] at least some accidental change in the world is hylomorphic? I do not think so. [UHM] is itself motivated by [DP], which says that it is possible that repugnant perfec- tions can be virtually contained in one and the same form. If repugnant perfec- tions can be virtually contained in one form, then every perfection can be virtually contained in one form, a forma mundi, and this is exactly what [UHM] claims. But [DP] would apply as well to accidental forms as substantial forms. Given the theoretical innovations that led to positing a forma mundi, then, we can equally well posit a forma accidentalis mundi; so a forma accidentalis mundi makes a hylomorphic account of accidental change nugatory as much as a forma mundi makes a hylomorphic account of substantial change nugatory. So just as [DP] inspires [UHM], it equally inspires

[U8] There is just one accidental form in the world, a forma accidentalis mundi.

But

[U9] If [U8], then no accidental change in the world is hylomorphic, i.e., no accidental change involves the advent of a new accidental form in the world and the recession of a prior accidental form in the world.

Why The World Is Not A Substance 157

[U9] holds because, given [U8], if there is any accidental change in the world, this change does not involve the advent and recession of accidental forms because there is only one accidental form. Therefore,

[U10] No accidental change in the world is hylomorphic, i.e., no acci- dental change involves the advent of a new accidental form in the world and the recession of a prior accidental form in the world.

[U11] not-[U6a]. ([U10], contradiction).

[U12] not-[U4b]. ([U6], [U7], [U11], and modus tollens).

[U13] not-[U2b]. ([U4], [U5], [U12], and modus tollens).

[U14] not-[U1b]. ([U2], [U3], [U13], and modus tollens).

Now I turn to [U1a], which says that, given [UHM], the world does not have any part-substances. It is the view that all the things in the world are either (non-substantial) parts of, or properties of, the world. Against [U1a] we can simply reprise parts of the argument against [U1b].

[U15] If [U1a], then (a) there is accidental (i.e., non-substantial) change in the world, or (b) there is not.

[U16] not-[U15b] ([M]).

As [U6] says about [U4b] so we can say about [U15a]:

[U17] If [U15a], then [U6a] or [U6b].

[U18] not-[U15a]. ([U7], [U11], [U17], and modus tollens).

[U19] not-[U1a]. ([U15], [U16], [U18], and modus tollens).

[U20] not-[UHM]. ([U14], [U19], [U1], and modus tollens).

The argument shows pretty convincingly that [UHM] is hopeless. [UHM] is nominally hylomorphic in the sense that it posits a form/matter split in the world as a whole, but its hylomorphism does no theoretical work and should

158 Chapter 9 be rejected. But the argument says nothing about the plausibility of [PHM], and it is [PHM] rather than [UHM] that was the target of Scotus’ own arguments against [HM]. To his two arguments I now turn. iii The World/Organism Analogy

Scotus explicitly questions whether the world is a substance in QMet VII, q.20, n.22, in the form of an objection to his own view that it is not. According to the objection, if several substances can be part-substances of one sub- stance, then “how will it be disproved that there is one form of the whole universe […] or one form for any number of disparate things?”17 Scotus’s plu- ralism involves the claim that some collection of substances which is not itself a substance can be in potency to a substantial form. But intuitively not just any collection of substances which is not itself a substance is in potency to substantial form—my briefcase and the Eiffel tower, for example, do not seem apt to be part-substances of the same substance. Scotus’s claim that several substances are in potency to a substantial form when they compose a unity of order seemed like the sort of move that would allow one to distin- guish the substances that can be part-substances from those that cannot. But if everything in the world is essentially ordered to everything else, then this move is obviously insufficient. If a unity of order is all that it takes for several substances to be able to be part-substances of the same substance, then any arbitrary collection of substances is able to be a collection of part-substances of the same substance, and indeed everything in the world is able to be a part-substance of the world-substance. Scotus offers two attempts to avoid the conclusion that there is one world- substance. First, he says,

To that objection about the soul of the world, it is argued that it is not one form, because then the universe would be imperfect wherever an indi- vidual is corrupted.18

17 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.22 (Bonaventure IV, p. 384), Confirmatur prima propositio: quomodo enim improbabitur una forma totius universi […] vel quorumcumque disparatorum? 18 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.49 (Bonaventure IV, p. 393), Ad illud de anima mundi arguitur quod non est una forma, quia tunc universum esset imperfectum, quocumque individuo corrupto.

Why The World Is Not A Substance 159

The idea here is that, on the assumption that the universe as a whole is one substance, each individual in the universe—e.g., Mole, Rat, Badger, etc.— would be analogous to an organ of organism, as displayed in Table 1:

Table 1 Word/organism analogy, first version

Part Whole

Heart, eyes, hands, liver, etc. The animal Individual substances The world

Remove an eye or hand and the organism is injured or impaired; remove a heart or brain and the organism is corrupted. If the analogy holds then the universe as a whole is injured or impaired when an individual such as Mole corrupted, just as Mole is injured or impaired when he loses an eye or hand. But (with all due respect to Mr. Mole), the universe is not thus impaired or injured when Mole is corrupted, so the universe is not really an organism. In short,

[W1] That the universe is one substance implies that it is injured when an individual substance is corrupted.

[W2] But the universe is not injured when an individual substance is corrupted.

[W3] So the universe is not one substance.

But Scotus finds an objection to his own argument, the basic claim of which is that the organ/organism analogy was not apt. He writes:

Against this [[W1]-[W3]]: is an animal really imperfect wherever a part of its flesh is removed? Is not an individual in the universe held to be like homoœmeric parts and a species like non-homoœmeric?19

The objection expressed in the first rhetorical question is that an animal is not necessarily made imperfect if it loses a part. For example, it just doesn’t sound

19 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.50 (Bonaventure IV, p. 393), Contra: numquid animal imperfectum quacumque parte carnis amota? Nonne indi- vidua in universo ponerentur quasi partes homoœmereae, et species quasi anomoœmereae?

160 Chapter 9 right to say that I become less perfect if I lose some skin cells (indulging the anachronism), clip my fingernails, or trim my hair. The second rhetorical question advances the claim that, if the whole universe is a substance, then its analogue of organs or parts the removal of which would make the body less perfect are not individuals but whole species. Aristotle himself said that com- plex organs like hearts, eyes, and hands are in some sense composed out of several different kinds of homoœmeric parts, such as flesh, bone and nerve.20 Scotus’s idea is that individuals would be like these homoœmeric parts, some- how composing whole species. These relationships are displayed in Table 2:

Table 2 World/organism analogy, second version

Homoœmeric parts Heterogeneous parts The whole

Bone, flesh, blood, nerve etc. Heart, eyes, hands, liver, etc. The animal Individual substances Species The world

It would thus take the corruption of a whole species to impair the universe as a whole. From Aristotle’s point of view, this last claim would entail that the universe could never be impaired, since he held that it was necessary that the species are eternal.21 He could make the following argument:

[W4] If the universe is one substance, then it is possible that it be injured.

[W5] It is possible that the universe be injured if and only if it is pos- sible that a species be corrupted.

[W6] It is not possible that a species be corrupted.

[W7] So it is not possible that the universe be injured.

[W8] So the universe is not one substance.

20 Aristotle, Parts of Animals II, 1 646b 11–27 (Barnes I, p. 1006). 21 Aristotle, Physics III.6, 206a25-27 (Barnes I, p. 351).

Why The World Is Not A Substance 161

Scotus would not quite agree with Aristotle about the necessary eternity of the species, since he doubtless would hold that God could simply annihilate every individual of a species. But since the formal contents or notae of any creatable nature are repugnant or non-repugnant of themselves and not by divine voli- tion, God could not make it the case that the non-repugnant notae composing any given nature become repugnant,22 and thus he could not altogether eradi- cate a species at least in the sense that he could not eradicate his own idea of the species. So for reasons other than Aristotle’s Scotus would accept the argu- ment [W4]-[W8]. iv Properties of the Whole That Are Not Properties of the Parts

The second argument sets forth a kind of procedure for picking out the sub- stances, and argues that according to this procedure the world does not make the cut:

Otherwise it is argued that operation discloses form. Therefore where beyond the proper operations corresponding to the parts according to their proper forms, we see some one operation common to them—such as sensing in an animal—there we conclude that there is a form of the whole actuating all the parts together. In the parts of the universe, beyond the proper operations belonging to them according to their proper forms, we do not see another common [operation], as in fire and water, beyond heating and cooling. Hence, etc.23

Consider my briefcase and the Eiffel Tower. Maybe they are informed or can be informed by one substantial form and so compose or can compose a substance; maybe they are not and so do not. To find out, Scotus would seek to discover whether there is some operation that my briefcase and the Eiffel Tower have,

22 On this see Calvin Normore, “Scotus, Modality, Instants of Nature and the Contingency of the Present,” in John Duns Scotus: Metaphysics and Ethics, ed. Ludger Honnefelder, Rega Wood, and Mechthild Dreyer (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1996), pp. 161–175, especially pp. 162–164. Scotus, Ordinatio I, d.36. 23 Quaestiones super Libros Metaphysicorum Aristotelis VII, q.20, n.51 (Bonaventure IV, p. 393), Aliter arguitur: quod operatio arguit formam. Igitur ubi ultra proprias operationes correspondentes partibus secundum proprias formas videmus aliquam unam operatio- nem communem eis—sicut in animali “sentire”—ibi concludimus formam totius actu- antem omnes partes communiter. In partibus universi, ultra proprias operationes convenientes eis secundum proprias formas, nullam videmus aliam communem, ut in igne et aqua, ultra calefacere et frigescere; quare etc.

162 Chapter 9 that is not an operation of the briefcase, the Eiffel Tower, or the two together, an operation attributable only to the whole substance of which they are (puta- tive) material parts. But we do not see (to use Scotus’s word) any such opera- tion, and therefore do not infer that they compose a substance. In another text Scotus offer risibility as an example of a property that cannot be reduced to a part or parts of a substance.24 The ability to laugh requires both the ability to find things humorous—which is limited to rational beings—as well as the ability to produce the motions and sounds associated with laughter—which is limited to corporeal beings. Thus only a human—a ratio- nal animal—is risible. Neither matter nor form is a rational animal, so neither can be the proper subject of risibility. Scotus also denies that “both together” can be the proper subject of risibility. “Both together” is ambiguous, however; it might mean that risibility inheres in matter and in form, such that matter is risible and form is risible, or it might mean that the feature which is in “both together” is divided between the two, for example, the rational “part” of risibil- ity inheres in the soul while the bodily “part” inheres in the matter. “Socrates is risible” would turn out to be an abbreviation of a complex attribution such as, “The soul of Socrates can find things funny and the body of Socrates can pro- duce motions associated with laughter, and these can occur at the same time.” Someone who was committed to Ockham’s claim that a substance is identical with its essential parts (such that any property of a substance is ipso facto a property of one or more parts of a substance), and also to the claim that risibil- ity is an essentially rational ability, would be forced to offer an analysis of risi- bility along these lines. Ockham himself seems to deny that risibility is a rational ability, claiming that it pertains [conveniat] only to the body.25 This seems false, and does not do justice to the traditional idea that risibility is a proper accident of the human species, since on Ockham’s analysis anything bodily should turn out to be risible. There is a deeper problem lurking in the way in which Ockham states his opposition to Scotus’s view, however. Ockham says that properties like risibil- ity pertain to the body as opposed to the soul, but body itself is, for both Ockham and Scotus, a composite of matter and form. Therefore, if Ockham really means that risibility pertains to the body, then he is committing himself unwittingly to Scotus’s position, that a property like risibility is a property of a composite substance and not of the parts of the substance. If by body he really means

24 Reportatio III-A, d.2, q.1, n.5 (Wadding XI, p. 428), Item, aliquod ens habet per se passio- nem, et primo, ut ponitur de homine respectu risibilis, et tamen ista passio nec est mate- riae primo, nec formae, nec amborum. 25 Ockham, Quaestiones Variae VI, a.2, ll.234–237 (OTh VIII, p. 217).

Why The World Is Not A Substance 163 matter, then his position is obviously false, for it would imply that something could be risible without being either rational or a body. Ockham gives another and even odder example of a property that pertains only to the body and not to the composite of body and soul: he says that descending [descendere] pertains only to the body.26 Again, if Ockham really means that a body descends, then he is committed to Scotus’s view. But if he really means that matter descends then he is wrong, for matter does not do anything unless it be informed. Ockham also seems to be unable to respond to the following worry. If a sub- stance, s, has some proper accident, passion, or operation, F, if and only if one or more of its essential parts have F, then we can ask whether the parts were F before they composed s. If they were, then F is not really a proper accident, passion, or operation of s. If they were not, then Ockham should provide some account of what changes when the parts compose s such that one or more of them becomes F. If, for example, matter becomes risible when and only when it is informed by the substantial forms that compose a human, then what is it about receiving those forms that makes the matter risible? If it is because mat- ter is now a part of a rational animal, then why go on attributing the risibility only to the matter and not to the rational animal? Ockham did not address these concerns, and I am not sure how to address them for him. In contrast to substances like human beings, which have operations like sensing and proper accidents like risibility, the common operations and acci- dents of two or more substances that do not form a substantial unity can be reduced, Scotus thinks, to the operations or accidents of one or more sub- stances. Consider Scotus’s own example of substances that do not compose a substance, some fire and some water. If these had a common operation, it would probably be warming. So why not think that fire and water compose a substance when they warm? The answer is supposed to be that warming is simply reducible to the respective operations of fire and water, the way that the warm water from your tap is simply the confluence of the cold water and the hot. Finally, consider the world itself. Suppose (in submission to the Parisian Condemnations of 1277) that the world as a whole can move rectilinearly.27 This would not support the view that the world is a substance, since the world’s rectilinear motion could be accounted for by the rectilinear motion of all the parts. The point is that Scotus finds no reason for supposing that the world has some operation that cannot be reduced to one or more of its parts.

26 Ibid. 27 Cf. Edward Grant, A Sourcebook of Medieval Science (Cambridge, ma: Harvard University Press, 1974), p. 48.

164 Chapter 9

It could turn out that there are no substances composed of other substances if, for example, there is nothing whose activity cannot be reduced to its part-substances. In such a world there could still be substances, but there would be no substance which has substances as parts. Aquinas, for example, should not be troubled by a forma mundi, or at least not by [PHM], since Aquinas denies that one substance can have more than one substantial form (and therefore that one substance can be composed of substances). Scotus’s response to the worry about the forma mundi shows that compos- ing a unity of order is merely a necessary and not a sufficient condition for being in potency to a substantial form. If we ask why this particular unity of order is in potency to a substantial form the answer would be that this unity of order is itself essentially ordered in the order of final causality to a whole sub- stance of a certain kind. The whole substance is the final cause of the final causality of all the part-substances, and the union of substantial form with these part-substances is one step in a final causal chain. When a unity of order is not in potency to substantial form, the causality of each of its causes is not ordered to a substantial union.

Chapter 10 Scotistic Hylomorphism and the Problem of Homonymy

In this final chapter I will argue for a thesis which I believe to be Scotus’s but which I also believe to be true. I will argue that a hylomorphist should hold that a material substance can be composed of material substances, that he should be what I call a Scotistic pluralist. The plan for the chapter is as follows: I will review some of the features that make Scotistic hylomorphism Scotistic, and contrast these with certain features of different versions of hylomorphism. I will move on to pose a serious problem with hylomorphism, first raised, as far as I know, by J.L. Ackrill.1 Then I will sketch the ways in which different versions of hylomorphism can respond to Ackrill’s problem, and argue that Scotistic hylomorphism has the best response. i Scotistic Hylomorphism Among Other Varieties

Take it for granted, that for any material substance, there is something or some things that it is made out of. Let us say, following an ordinary way of speaking (at least in metaphysics), that what a substance is made out of con­ stitutes that substance, and (following an older way of speaking) let’s call that which constitutes a substance the matter of that substance. All hylo- morphists agree that a substance is not identical with that which constitutes it, is not identical with its matter. They argue that the matter of any material substance is formed, structured, organized, in some way and that an expla- nation of the form, structure, or organization of the matter of a substance must involve some ontological commitment to something in addition to the matter. Hylomorphists call this additional something, form. A material sub- stance turns out to be, on nearly every hylomorphic theory, some sort of composite of matter and form.2

1 J.L. Ackrill, “Aristotle’s Definitions of ‘Psuche’,” Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 73 (1972– 1973), pp. 119–133. Ackrill’s problem is concisely expressed by Christopher Shields, “The Fundamental Problem about Hylomorphism,” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy 2010, http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/aristotle-psychology/suppl1.html. 2 I know of one exception: Mark Johnston, “Hylomorphism,” Journal of Philosophy 103:12 (2006, pp. 692–698. Johnston denies that forms are parts of the objects whose forms they are.

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166 Chapter 10

On older versions of hylomorphism, such as Scotus’s, a division of forms into substantial and accidental is put to heavy use. A substantial form is sup- posed to be the sort of form that structures matter and makes a substance, while an accidental form structures a substance in a certain way, characteriz- ing it but not changing its essence or nature. For the purposes of this chapter I am concerned exclusively with substantial form. Perhaps the most significant disagreement between hylomorphists is the one I will be focusing on here. It concerns whether or not the matter of a sub- stance, s, can itself be one or more substances while it is the matter of s, which by transitivity of parthood (on the assumption that matter is a part of the sub- stance whose matter it is) amounts to a disagreement about whether or not a substance can have one or more substances as parts. Aquinas held that for every substance you count you must count no more or less than one substantial form. (Following my earlier usage, I will call him and others who agree with him unitarians about substantial form.) Unitarians therefore deny that a substance can be composed of substances. Scotus and Ockham held that one substance can have more than one substantial form. (We will continue to call them pluralists about substantial form.) Pluralists therefore affirm that a substance can be composed of substances. But there are two very different kinds of pluralism, what I have called (a little unimagina- tively) standard pluralism and Scotistic pluralism. In order to understand the differences between these kinds of pluralisms, recall another term of art from earlier chapters: a part-substance is a substance that is a part of a substance. Pluralists think there are part-substances; unitarians do not. For both standard and Scotistic pluralists, a whole substance can be composed of several part- substances, and one part-substance can be composed of several part-sub- stances. But, to speak loosely, whereas the standard pluralist will deny that integral parts like hands, eyes, and hearts can be individual substances while they compose a substance, the Scotistic pluralist affirms this. More strictly, for Standard Pluralists,

[Standard Pluralism] For any substance, w, part-substance of w, x, and part-substance of w, y, if x ≠ y then either x is a part-substance of y or y is a part-substance of x.

But for Scotistic pluralists,

[Scotistic Pluralism] For some substance, w, part-substance of w, x, and part-substance of w, y, such that x ≠ y, x is not a part-substance of y and y is not a part-substance of x.

Scotistic Hylomorphism and the Problem of Homonymy 167

w

p3

p2

p1

Figure 1 Standard pluralism

w

p1 p2

p3 p4 p5 p6

Figure 2 Scotistic pluralism

Given part-substances, p1 … pn, and substance, w, standard and Scotistic pluralism can be represented graphically in Figures 1 and 2, above. In Figure 2, each node represents either a part-substance or a whole substance, and the lines connecting the nodes represent part of relations, such that for any two nodes connected by a line, the lower is a part of the higher

(but not vice versa). Thus, p3 is a part of p1, which itself is a part of w. But p1 and p3 are not parts of p2, even though p2 is a part of w. In Figure 1, each circle rep- resents either a part-substance or a whole substance, and being contained in a larger circle represents the part of relation. p1, p2, and p3 therefore are parts of w, p1 and p2 are parts of p3, and p1 is a part of p2. On Scotistic pluralism, by way of example, suppose that a heart and a femur are part-substances of a human substance. Suppose also that marrow is a part- substance of a femur. Then, whereas marrow is a part-substance of a femur and is therefore a part-substance of a human, it is not a part-substance of a heart, even though a heart is a part-substance of a human. Standard pluralism does not really deny this rather intuitive point; instead it restricts the exten- sion of substance in such a way that while the body might count as a sub- stance, its organic parts do not. Thus, if a body is a part-substance of a vegetative

168 Chapter 10 substance, and if a vegetative substance is a part-substance of a sensitive substance, then a body is a part-substance of a sensitive substance. Notice that while Scotistic pluralism does not rule out that part-substances can be “layered,” as Figure 1 represents, Standard pluralism does rule out that part- substances can be “branched,” as Figure 2 represents. Scotistic pluralism is therefore a more inclusive theory. Crucial to my argument is that any version of hylomorphism will be unitarian, standard pluralist, or Scotistic pluralist. Obviously any version of hylomorphism will be either unitarian or pluralist, since a theory that posits zero substantial forms is not a theory of hylomorphism. For the claim that any theory of plural- ism is either standard or Scotistic, consider the following. If we semi-formalize the definitions of standard and Scotistic pluralism in the following ways,

[Standard Pluralism] ∀w∀x∀y ((Sw and xPw and yPw) implies ((x ≠ y) implies (xPy or yPx))), where S can be read as “is a substance,” and P can be read as “is a part-substance of;”

[Scotistic Pluralism] ∃w∃x∃y (Sw and xPw and yPw and x ≠ y and not- xPy and not-yPx), where S can be read as “is a substance,” and P can be read as “is a part-substance of;” we can show that one is simply the negation of the other through a simple argument, argument [N]:

[N1] ∀w∀x∀y ((Sw and xPw and yPw) then (x ≠ y then (xPy or yPx))) and ∃w∃x∃y (Sw and xPw and yPw and x ≠ y and not- xPy and not-yPx) (assume for reductio) [N2] ∀w∀x∀y ((Sw and xPw and yPw) then (x ≠ y then (xPy or yPx))) ([N1], simplification) [N3] not-∃w∃x∃y not-((Sw and xPw and yPw) then (x ≠ y then (xPy or yPx))) ([N2], quantifier negation x3) [N4] not-∃w∃x∃y ((Sw and xPw and yPw) and (x ≠ y and not-(xPy or yPx))) ([N3], negated conditional decomposition x2) [N5] not-∃w∃x∃y (Sw and xPw and yPw and x ≠ y and not-xPy and not-yPx) ([N4], DeMorgan, removed parentheses) [N6] ∃w∃x∃y (Sw and xPw and yPw and x ≠ y and not-xPy and not- yPx) ([N1], simplification) [N7] Therefore, not-[N1] ([N5], [N6], contradiction)

Scotistic Hylomorphism and the Problem of Homonymy 169

Scotistic and standard pluralism offer different accounts of how part- substances are structured when a substance has more than one part-substance, and the argument above shows that these accounts are mutually exclusive. This does not mean that there cannot be more than three theories of hylomor- phism—unitarianism, standard pluralism, Scotistic pluralism; it just means that any version can be sorted under one of these. ii Ackrill’s Problem

As a slow approach to Ackrill’s problem, consider a familiar heuristic case used to motivate hylomorphism. Suppose that a cube of bronze is shaped into a sphere. Is the cube of bronze identical with all of the bronze that constitutes it? Is the sphere of bronze? If they are, then we seem committed to the identity of the cube of bronze with the sphere of bronze, which seems false, since one and not the other rolls well. On a hylomorphist analysis, the sphere and the cube share the same matter, but they differ in form. They are two objects sharing (at different times) the same matter. Relevant in this case for setting up Ackrill’s problem are the facts that the matter of the cube persists through the change of the cube into a sphere, and (what immediately follows from this) that the identity of the bronze does not depend on its being informed by the form of the cube or the form of the sphere. Ackrill puts it this way:

It seems then that [the matter-form distinction depends] upon the idea that something that is actually the case might not have been: this stuff might not have been so arranged, the capacity being now displayed might have remained undisplayed. ‘It is the nature of matter to be capable both of being and of not being < such and such > (Met. Z.15 1039b29).’3

Generalized to describe any hylomorphic compound substance, s, we can say that the matter of s preexists s and goes on existing after s ceases to be and therefore the matter of s can exist even if s does not exist. Call this generaliza- tion the Contingently Informed Principle [cip]:

3 Ackrill, “Aristotle’s Definitions of ‘Psuche’,” p. 125. Cf. Aristotle, Metaphysics VII 1039b29 (Barnes II, p. 1641).

170 Chapter 10

[CIP] For any hylomorphic compound substance, s, we can say that the matter of s preexists s and goes on existing after s ceases to be and there- fore the matter of s can exist even if s does not exist.

Recall, however, that for Aristotle and all medieval Aristotelians, a bronze cube and a bronze sphere are not actually substances, but artifacts. Another way of saying this is that the form of the cube and the form of the sphere are not sub- stantial forms; instead they are accidental forms, modifying a substance, the homogeneous mixture, bronze. So the example of the cube and the bronze is at best merely heuristic. But its usefulness even as a heuristic falls under suspicion when we attempt to make the transition to genuine Aristotelian substances, especially living things. For it is not clear what would be the analogue of bronze in the metaphysical makeup of a living thing. The standard thing to say, and what Aristotle himself does say in De Anima II, is that the soul is the substantial form of the body, where it is implied that the body functions as the matter of the com- posite. But for Aristotle this cannot be quite right, since according to him the corpse is not a human body; the corpse is only homonymously a human body, the severed hand is only homonymously a hand.4 But why think that a corpse is not really a human body, or that a severed hand is not really a hand, or (naturally extending the range of examples) that the removed kidney (waiting in the organ bank to be implanted in a patient) is not really a kidney? The answer lies in a certain picture of the relationship between being a certain kind of thing and being able to perform a certain function, namely this: that something is a mem- ber of a kind, K, if and only if it is able to perform the characteristic function or functions of the Ks. Call this relationship the Homonymy Principle [hp]:

[HP] A thing, x, is a member of a kind, K, if and only if x is able to perform the characteristic function or functions of the Ks.

According to [hp], since the severed hand cannot do what hands character- istically do (they enable a human to manipulate its environment in certain ways conducive to its flourishing)—it is only homonymously a hand. And since the kidney in the organ bank does not filter blood (to narrow for sim- plicity’s sake the range of functions that kidneys do), it is only homony- mously a kidney.

4 Aristotle, On the Soul II, c.1, 412b 10–24 (Barnes I, p. 657); Meteorology IV, c.12, 389b 30 – 390a 1 (Barnes I, p. 624); Generation of Animals II, c.1, 734b 24–35 (Barnes I, p. 1140); Aquinas, Summa theologiae III, q.50, a.5, corp.

Scotistic Hylomorphism and the Problem of Homonymy 171

Reflecting on the implications of [hp] for the hylomorphic analysis of sub- stances, Ackrill concluded that the body cannot be the matter of a living thing in any straightforward sense, since its identity is dependent on its being informed by the soul. A better way to put this is to say that the body of a living thing only exists when the living thing exists, and therefore fails to be the matter of a living thing according to [cip].

The problem with Aristotle’s application of the matter-form distinction to living things is that the body that is here the matter is itself ‘already’ neces- sarily living. For the body is this head, these arms, etc. (or this flesh, these bones, etc.), but there was no such things as this head before birth and there will not be a head, properly speaking, after death. In short—and I am of course only summarizing Aristotle—the material in this case is not capable of existing except as the material of an animal, as matter so in­ formed. The body we are told to pick out as the material ‘constituent’ of the animal depends for its very identity on its being alive, in-formed by psuche.5

So here is Ackrill’s Problem with hylomorphism: Given [hp], it is necessary that for any substance, s, the matter of s is informed by the form of s. But, given [cip], it is not necessary that for any substance, s, the matter of s is informed by the form of s. Aristotle’s hylomorphism seems to involve com- mitment to both [cip] and [hp]. But they cannot both be true. There are different kinds of hylomorphism, but all are alike, as far as I know, in being committed to [cip]. In fact, it is impossible for me to think of a way in which some theory can count as hylomorphism at all if it does not include such a commitment. So the possible responses to Ackrill’s Problem involve either rejecting [hp], or modifying [hp] and [cip] in such a way that their conjunction does not after all generate a contradiction. Unitarians about sub- stantial form—Aquinas their chief representative—opt for the latter route, while pluralists about substantial form—Scotus among them—opt for the former. iii Aquinas’s Response

As discussed in Chapter 5, even though Aquinas sometimes says that the soul or substantial form informs the body, for example in st I, q.76, a.1, consistent

5 Ackrill, “Aristotle’s Definitions of ‘Psuche’,” p. 126.

172 Chapter 10 with Aristotle’s language in De Anima II, it is clear that he does not really mean this. Instead he thinks that the soul informs prime matter, an uncharacterized and in itself purely potential substratum of change. All of the essential proper- ties of a living thing, not just being sensitive or being alive but also being sighted or being quadrupedal, are due to the living thing’s one substantial form, its soul. It follows from this that the corpse of Mole is numerically dis- tinct from the body of Mole, and is therefore only homonymously a talpid body. Aquinas therefore holds on to [hp] while rejecting the understanding of the body as the matter of a living thing. Does Aquinas also hold on to [cip]? This I think is a hard question to answer. On the one hand, Aquinas’s Aristotelian analysis of change, presented for example in Principles of Nature 2, demands that prime matter persist through substantial change:

Since in generation the matter or subject persists (permanet) but not the privation or the composite from matter and privation, thus the matter which is not considered with privation is persistent (permanens); but that which is considered with privation passes away (transiens).6

The privation is simply that capacity or disposition of a subject to receive some form; thus, before some bronze is shaped into a statue it has a privation of statue-form. When the bronze is shaped into a statue it loses this privation, but the bronze itself persists through the change. Aquinas is clear that both proximate matter, such as bronze, as well as prime matter, persist through sub- stantial change.7 So the short answer is that he does support [cip]. On the other hand, there are reasons to question whether Aquinas can consistently hold [cip]. For example, it is not clear to me how Aquinas is entitled to hold that prime matter persists, given his well-known commitment to the idea that prime matter is pure potency, having in itself no actuality. For Aquinas matter is actual insofar as it is informed by some form; it is not in itself a hoc aliquid. It is not obvious to me whether it follows from this that matter cannot persist through substantial change; however neither is it obvious to me whether it is consistent with this that matter can persist through substantial change. We might be inclined to think that if matter depends for its actuality on some particular

6 Aquinas, De principiis naturae c.2, Et quia in generatione materia sive subiectum permanet, privatio vero non, neque compositum ex materia et privatione, ideo materia quae non importat privationem, est permanens: quae autem importat, est transiens. 7 Aquinas, De principiis naturae c.2.

Scotistic Hylomorphism and the Problem of Homonymy 173

form, f1, then when the composite of matter and f1 is corrupted and f1 ceases to exist, the matter ceases to exist as well. Then again we might think that what Aquinas is committed to is not that this particular matter depends for its actu- ality on this particular form, but rather that it depends on some form or other, such that so long as it is informed by some form or other, it remains actual and the very same matter. Thus when f1 recedes and f2 is introduced in a process of generation, perhaps the matter is passed off, as in a game of Hot Potato, from f1 to f2 in an instantaneous change, remaining actual across the generation. This picture of prime matter’s relationship to form sees any particular form as a merely contingent actualizer of any particular prime matter, such that one and the same parcel of prime matter can be actualized successively by indefinitely many forms, just as one and the same hot potato can be held aloft by indefi- nitely many hands in succession. I myself do not know how to decide between these competing views. Fortunately a commitment one way or another is not necessary to my argu- ment, since it is open to a unitarian simply to deny that prime matter depends for its actuality on being informed. Suffice it to say that Aquinas himself was committed to [cip], questions about the consistency of this view with other of his views notwithstanding. iv The Standard Pluralistic Response

Standard pluralists take issue with Aquinas’s support of [hp]; according to them there are good reasons for rejecting it. I will focus here on just one argu- ment; it is inspired by a very common medieval argument for pluralism. Suppose that Mole is a substance and that Mole’s corpse is a substance. It’s clear that Mole’s corpse is not the same substance as Mole. Either Mole’s corpse is identical with a part of Mole (such as his body), or it is not. By the indiscern- ibility of identicals, for any x and any y, if x is identical to y then, if Fx then Fy. From this it would follow that if Mole’s corpse is identical with a part of Mole, then Mole has at least one substance as a part, letting “F” represent “is a sub- stance.” This follows given that Mole’s corpse is a substance and that Mole’s corpse is not the same substance as Mole. Now the unitarian denies that Mole has a substance as a part. So the unitarian takes the other disjunct: he holds that it is not the case that Mole’s corpse is identical with a part of Mole. But if the corpse is not identical with Mole or with a part of Mole, then it has an efficient cause whose efficient causing of the corpse is distinct from the efficient causing by which Mole comes to be. The corpse must be generated at the moment Mole is corrupted. This assumption is rooted in the ideas that

174 Chapter 10 every created substance is efficiently caused, and that one efficient causing produces at most one substance. But going through the list of causes, we find no plausible candidates for this efficient cause of the corpse. God or an angel or an invisible corpse-generator could do it, but the pluralist insists that there is no reason to think that anything does do it. So by modus tollens the pluralist denies that the corpse is not identical with Mole or with a part of Mole, and therefore accepts the first disjunct, from which he derives that Mole has at least one part-substance. In outline, the argument against unitarianism, argu- ment [R], runs as follows:

[R1] Mole’s corpse is a substance. [R2] Mole is a substance. [R3] Mole’s corpse is not the same substance as Mole. [R4] For any x and for any y, x = y implies that if x is a substance then y is a substance. (indiscernibility of identicals) [R5] Either [R5a] Mole’s corpse is identical with a part of Mole (such as his body), or [R5b] it is not. ([R3], excluded middle) [R6] If [R5a], then [R6a] Mole has at least one substance as a part— his body. ([R1], [R4], [R5], universal elimination) [R7] If [R5b], then [R7a] Mole’s corpse has an efficient cause that is not the efficient cause of Mole. (assumption) [R8] not-[R7a]. (“induction”) [R9] not-[R5b]. ([R7], [R8], modus tollens) [R10] Therefore [R5a]. ([R5], [R9], disjunctive ) [R11] Therefore [R6a]. ([R6], [R10], modus ponens) [R12] Therefore [Pluralism] a substance has at least one substance as a part. ([R2], [R11])

[R8] is disputable. It might seem weak because the unitarian might well be willing to tolerate a metaphysics in which God or an angel has to generate corpses constantly, if that is the price to pay for preserving unitarianism. So to a certain extent the pluralist argument simply relies on an intuition that it is more likely that there are part-substances than that there are non-apparent efficient causes of corpses.

Scotistic Hylomorphism and the Problem of Homonymy 175

This intuition is strengthened, I think, by the consideration, discussed in Chapter 5, that the non-apparent efficient cause would not only be responsible for generating a new substance, but would also be responsible for generating a substance that in many cases has specifically the same accidents as the living substance that precedes it. The corpse of Mole, like Mole, is black, small, and furry. According to Aquinas accidents do not survive the substances they inhere in except in miraculous circumstances; if the substance is corrupted, so are the accidents, since accidents by nature inhere in, are individuated by, and (in non-miraculous cases) depend for their existence on not matter but sub- stance.8 So in addition to holding that Mole’s corpse has a substantial form which was never a form of Mole, Aquinas must also hold that all of its acci- dents were never accidents of Mole. Again, the lack of a causal explanation of these accidents casts doubt on the cogency of the unitarian position. [R4] and [R10] require some heavy qualification. There are two problems here. The first is that a strict application of the law of the indiscernibility of identicals leads straightaway to the false conclusion that one and the same thing cannot undergo change. We want to be able to say, for example, that the man, Socrates, is the very same person or human being as the boy, Socrates. But man-Socrates is taller than boy-Socrates; let us say that boy-Socrates is four- feet tall and man-Socrates is six-feet tall. The indiscernibility of identicals tells us that from the identity claim, “Boy-Socrates is identical to man-Socrates,” we can infer that man-Socrates is four-feet tall (and that boy-Socrates is six-feet tall). But these are false. Rather than deny the indiscernibility of identicals, Aristotelians say that boy-Socrates and man-Socrates are not altogether identi- cal. Aristotelians account for identity through changes of a substance like Socrates by distinguishing the substance, Socrates, from various accidental modifications of Socrates, such as his height. Time carries on and Socrates grows up, but he is the same substance he always was. Relevant to the present discussion is that since being a substance is just the sort of feature of a thing that is supposed to remain constant over a thing’s many accidental changes, the application of the indiscernibility of identicals expressed in [R4] and the identity claim made in [R10] would not fall prey to any worries about the sort of changes Mole’s body undergoes when it becomes Mole’s corpse. We could say, cumbersomely, “The substance designated ‘Mole’s body’ while Mole is alive is identical to the substance designated ‘Mole’s corpse’ when Mole dies,” from which we could infer that if one is a substance then the other is, too. The second problem is more complicated. In Chapter 7 I argued that Scotus thinks that being a substance is, at least for some substances, contingent, such

8 Aquinas, In de generatione et corruptione I, l.10, n.6.

176 Chapter 10 that one and the same thing might first not be a substance and then be a sub- stance, remaining the very same thing through the change. If Scotus is right, then being a substance, for some substance, might turn out to be like any old accident of a thing such as height or skin color. Just as we cannot infer from the identity of boy-Socrates and man-Socrates that man-Socrates is four-feet tall, so we might be wrong to infer from the identity of Mole’s body and Mole’s corpse that Mole’s body is a substance. Maybe Mole’s body and Mole’s corpse are the very same thing and that thing gains a new property—being a substance—when Mole dies. Now, this chapter is not primarily a defense of any claim of Scotus, but it is written in a Scotistic spirit, so this worry ought to be worrisome. In reply, first, as far as I can tell Scotus has no reason not to admit that any substance could cease to be a substance (and go on existing). But also, second, as far as I can tell the only context in which he affirms that being a substance is a contingent feature of a thing is in his discussion of the metaphysics of continua, in which he claims that an arbitrary homogeneous chunk of a continuous homogeneous substance itself becomes a substance only when separated from the continuous homogeneous substance.9 The issue here seems to be that since any continuous substance is infinitely divisible, and any homogeneous continuous substance is infinitely divisible into parts of the same specific nature, the claim that any arbitrary chunk of such a homoge- neous continuous substance is itself a substance (a part-substance) would entail that any homogeneous continuous substance has actually infinitely many substances as parts—a conclusion Scotus would wish to deny. But in the case of organic bodies this issue does not arise. And since Scotus explicitly affirms that organisms have at least one substantial form in addition to a soul, as discussed in Chapters 5 and 6, we have no reason to suppose that he himself would deny that if Mole’s corpse is one substance then Mole’s body was one substance, too. In fact, Scotus thinks that Mole’s corpse is composed of more than one substance and therefore would think that his body was composed of more than substance, but this is not directly relevant to the discussion of stan- dard pluralism’s argument against unitarianism. The other premises of the argument are not controversial, and the argument is valid. For the standard pluralist, then, in a living thing there will be one substan- tial form in virtue of which it is a body, and one or more souls in virtue of which it is animate, sensitive, or rational. Standard pluralists therefore unequivocally hold that the soul informs the body. The body of Mole is a substance all by itself, a composite of prime matter and a substantial form of the body,

9 Ordinatio I, d.17, p. 2, q.1, n.232 (Vatican V, p. 251). Also see Cross’s discussion in The Physics of Scotus, pp. 139−158 and especially pp. 146−147.

Scotistic Hylomorphism and the Problem of Homonymy 177 potentially informed by a soul and therefore potentially a living body, but not dependent for its being a body on being informed by the soul. The standard pluralist therefore embraces [cip]—Mole’s body can exist without Mole’s soul—and rejects [hp]—Mole’s corpse really is a mole body. v Scotus’s Response

From the perspective of Scotistic pluralism, however, the standard pluralist does not take his rejection of [hp] far enough. Since on the standard pluralist view the whole body is a composite of prime matter and one substantial form, any integral part of the body, such as the organs, hands, and head, is dependent for its identity on being a part of the body. Remove a kidney, therefore, and it does not merely cease to be a part of the body but ceases to be altogether. That thing in the organ bank is not really a kidney but, let’s say, a homonymous kid- ney. It follows, therefore, that the standard pluralist rejects [hp] when it comes to bodies, yet accepts [hp] when it comes to body parts. For the Scotistic pluralist it seems that parity of reasoning should lead one to reject [hp] for body parts as well as bodies. The argument is very similar to the standard pluralist argument against unitarianism, but complicates it with three substances—Mole, Mole’s removed kidney, and Mole’s removed paw— whereas the earlier argument deals with just two. It also relies on an additional but indubitable premise, namely that a kidney is not part of a paw or vice versa. Consider the main reasons for adopting standard pluralism, that on the uni- tarian thesis the corpse is a new substance, that if it is a new substance then it must have had an efficient cause, but that there is no reasonable candidate in the offing for what this efficient cause might be. Now, consider a case of organ transplantation. On both the unitarian and standard pluralist views, once the kidney is removed from the donor it ceases to exist, and something else comes to be from it—what I have called the homonymous kidney. Now suppose the homonymous kidney is installed in a recipient; at some instant it ceases to exist and a kidney comes into existence. Note, however, that we have no reason to think that the kidney that comes into existence is the very same kidney that once existed as a part of the donor. So on both the unitarian and standard pluralist views, an organ transplantation turns out to involve three distinct objects—two kidneys and a homonymous kidney. But the homonymous kid- ney appears to be continuous with the donor’s kidney and the recipient’s kid- ney, so this is a reason in favor of thinking that it is the same kidney. And supposing the removed kidney to be a homonymous kidney requires there to be an efficient cause of the homonymous kidney, of which, again, there is none

178 Chapter 10 in the offing. So by parity of reason the Scotistic pluralist concludes that at least some integral parts of the body have their own substantial forms and are therefore substances. Repeat this process for some other integral part of the body that is not a part of the kidney and of which the kidney is not a part, and you arrive at Scotistic pluralism. In outline, the argument against standard plu- ralism, argument [P], runs as follows:

[P1] Mole is a substance. [P2] Mole’s removed kidney is a substance. [P3] Mole’s removed paw is a substance. [P4] Mole’s removed kidney is not the same substance as Mole. [P5] Mole’s removed paw is not the same substance as Mole. [P6] Mole’s removed kidney is not the same substance as Mole’s removed paw. [P7] For any x and for any y, x = y implies that if x is a substance then y is a substance. (indiscernibility of identicals) [P8] Either [P8a] Mole’s removed kidney and removed paw are identi- cal with parts of Mole (such as one of his kidneys and one of his hands), or [P8b] they are not. ([P4], [P5], excluded middle) [P9] If [P8a], then [P9a] Mole has at least two substances as parts— one of his kidneys and one of his paws. ([P2], [P3], [P6], [P7], [P8], universal elimination) [P10] If [P8b], then [P10a] Mole’s removed kidney and removed paw have efficient causes that are not the efficient cause of Mole. (assumption) [P11] not-[P10a]. (“induction”) [P12] not-[P8b]. ([P10], [P11], modus tollens) [P13] Therefore [P8a]. ([P8], [P12], disjunctive syllogism) [P14] Therefore [P9a]. ([P9], [P13], modus ponens) [P15] A hand is not a part of a kidney nor is a kidney a part of hand. [P16] Therefore, [Scotistic Pluralism]: ∃w∃x∃y (Sw and xPw and yPw and x ≠ y and not-xPy and not-yPx). ([P14], [P15], existential introduction x3)

Scotistic Hylomorphism and the Problem of Homonymy 179

[P17] Therefore not-[Standard Pluralism]: not-(∀w∀x∀y ((Sw and xPw and yPw) then (x ≠ y then (xPy or yPx)))). ([N], above) vi Scotus, Aquinas, and the Ultimate Subject of Substantial Change

Scotus’s understanding of part-substances allows for a finer-grained analysis of the composition of substances than my focus on organs has suggested. Scotus himself thought that many part-substances are themselves composed of part- substances. Informed by the science of his day he thought that complex organs such as the heart were composed of several different kinds of homogeneous mix- tures, what he describes loosely as bone, flesh, and nerves. For Scotus an analysis of part-substances ends at these homogeneous mixtures; each is composed not of additional substances but of prime matter and one substantial form. Scotus’s analysis of the bottom layer of part-substances should sound remi- niscent of Aquinas’s solution to Ackrill’s problem. Recall that Aquinas attempts to hold on to both [cip] and [hp] by identifying not the body but prime matter as the matter of a substance. It might seem then that the Scotistic pluralist simply delays recourse to prime matter. However many part-substances the Scotistic pluralist allows to compose one substance, eventually he gets down to a substance or substances whose matter is not itself a substance but is instead simply the bare potency to become all things. If like me you are worried about the consistency of Aquinas’s commitment to [cip] given his doctrine of matter as pure potency actualized only through form, then the Scotistic pluralist’s recourse to prime matter might seem like a strike against him. But Scotus himself has a quick fix to any problems that might lurk in Aquinas’s doctrine of prime matter. Scotus simply denies that matter is not actual of itself. For Scotus it is all by itself a hoc aliquid, whose nature it is to be the ultimate substrate of any substantial form. vii Faulty Metaphysics or Faulty Chemistry? Scotistic Hylomorphism and the Four Elements

Anyone familiar with ancient and medieval chemistry should immediately wonder why Scotus’s analysis of part-substances stops at homogeneous mix- tures. After all, such mixtures are supposed to be mixtures of at least two of the four elements: earth, water, air, and fire. If Scotus has countenanced part- substances at all, why not countenance elemental part-substances? As discussed in Chapter 8, Scotus directly tackles this problem in Lectura II, d.15. Scotus’s two strongest arguments against the claim that the elements

180 Chapter 10 actually exist in a mixed body represent two very different strategies. On the one hand is Scotus’s argument from quantitative forms, which tries to show that if the elements actually remained in a mixed body, they would either be co-located and therefore mixable only by divine power, or they would juxtaposed and therefore not compose a genuine substance. On the other hand is Scotus’s vio- lence argument, which tries to show that any mixture of actually existing ele- ments would subject at least one element of the mixture to non-natural motion, since under natural conditions any mixed body is located within the sphere of the moon and therefore located within one of the four elemental regions. This violent motion is doubly problematic for the thesis that the elements remain in a mixture, since it entails both that any mixed body is partially the result of non- natural motions, and that the misplaced elements in any mixed body will strive to return to their proper places, rendering the mixed body inherently unstable. The two strategies are relevantly similar in at least one respect: each hangs for its soundness on crucial features of medieval chemical theory, and not just in the obvious sense that each argues that the four chemical elements cannot exist in mixture. The argument from quantitative forms blocks what would seem to be the natural Scotistic move—allowing non-mixed elemental bodies to be bottom-level part-substances of complex bodily substances—by denying that elemental bodies are perfectible by additional substantial forms. And this denial, as I speculated, is rooted in the intra-theoretically plausible thesis that elemental bodies cannot compose a unity of order: they are neither efficient nor final-causally related to one another, since elements act for the sake of reaching their proper sublunary region, and they naturally corrupt elemental bodies of other kinds if they are able. The argument from violence, too, depends on claims about natural elemental motion, specifically that since every ele- mental body strives to reach its proper place, no mixed body composed of them would exhibit the stability that natural substances like lions, lambs, and Mole exhibit. Contrast this with Aquinas’s denial in De mixtione elementorum that the elements remain in a mixture. For Aquinas, given that the elements are sub- stances, any composition of elements is bound to have no more than merely aggregative unity.10 This is expected given Aquinas’s general endorsement of

10 Aquinas, De mixtione elementorum, Impossibile est enim materiam secundum idem diuersas formas elementorum suscipere; si igitur in corpore mixto formae substantiales elementorum saluentur, oportebit diuersis partibus materie eas inesse. Materie autem diuersas partes accipere est impossibile nisi preintellecta quantitate in materia, sublata enim quantitate substantia indiuisibilis permanet, ut patet in I Phisicorum; ex mate- ria autem sub quantitate existente et forma substantiali adueniente corpus phisicum

Scotistic Hylomorphism and the Problem of Homonymy 181 unitarianism. For Scotus, however, it seems fairly clear that his denial that the elements exist as part-substances of a substance is due not to metaphysical considerations about the nature of composition, but is instead wedded to an antiquated conception of elemental motion. This invites the speculation that a different chemistry would persuade Scotus to allow an even finer-grained account of part-substances, one, for example, that could include cells and their organelles, molecules and their atoms, perhaps all the way down to elementary particles.11

constituitur: diuerse igitur partes materie formis elementorum subsistentes plurium cor- porum rationem suscipiunt. Multa autem corpora impossibile est esse simul; non igitur in qualibet parte corporis mixti erunt quatuor elementa: et sic non erit uera mixtio, sed secundum sensum, sicut accidit in aggregatione corporum insensibilium propter paruita- tem. “For it is impossible for the same matter to sustain diverse forms of elements. If, therefore, in the mixed body the substantial forms of the elements are preserved, it will necessary for them to be in different parts of the matter. But it impossible for matter to have different parts unless quantity is already understood to be in matter, for having taken away quantity the substance remains indivisible, as is clear from Physics I. But from mat- ter existing under quantity and the arriving substantial form a physical body is consti- tuted. Therefore the parts of matter subsisting under the forms of the elements take on the character of several bodies. But it is impossible for [one body] to be many bodies at once; therefore the four elements will not be in every part of the mixed body. And thus it will not be a true mixture, but an apparent one, as happens in an aggregation of bodies that are imperceptible on account of their smallness.” 11 Kathrin Koslicki’s recent work on hylomorphism bears a striking affinity with Scotistic hylomorphism, and especially the scientifically updated Scotistic hylomorphism I am interested in here. See The Structure of Objects (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008), especially pp. 186–187, from which it is worth quoting at length: “Consider once again the table which, we said, is composed of some material components (the legs, top, hardware), arranged in the manner dictated by the table’s formal components; it is the job of these latter components to specify the variety and configuration which must be exhibited by the material components out of which a whole of this kind may be composed. Consider now a proper part of (a proper part of…) one of the table’s material components, e.g., a single molecule which might be, say, a proper part of (a proper part of…) one of the table’s legs. By the transitivity of parthood, the single molecule in question is a proper part of the table as well. ¶ If tables are hybrid objects, consisting of formal and material components, then so are molecules, since the same considerations apply in both cases. For the relation between a molecule and the particles which constitute it is exactly the same as that which holds between a table’s material components and the table itself: the molecule and the particles that constitute it occupy the same region of space-time, but they do not share all of their properties (e.g., the particles might exist before or after the molecule exists; they need not constitute the molecule in questions; etc.) […] The same considerations which motivated us to recognize within the table a certain amount of structural complexity,

182 Chapter 10

The Scotistic solution to Ackrill’s problem, then, is to reject the Homonymy Principle. The severed paw or surgically removed kidney cannot, to be sure, last very long as a paw and a kidney without being in auspicious surroundings—a living organism or something simulating an organic environ- ment. But being removed from, no longer a part of, an organism is for Scotus no reason to conclude that they have ceased to exist. More importantly, Scotus also would deny that being unable (in some sense) to perform the functions of a paw or kidney excludes something from the class of paws and kidneys. The kidney in the organ bank, so long as it is there on the shelf, cannot (in one sense) perform the functions of a kidney. But it is in the organ bank—and not in the biohazardous waste bin—because it can (in some other sense) perform the functions of a kidney. It is open to Scotus to exploit this weaker potentiality of the removed kidney in making his case to someone committed to the Homonymy Principle. But Scotus, as far as I know, does not directly pursue this route; I won’t either—for now. The difficulty here is that, for Scotus as for any Aristotelian, any material thing can (eventually) become any other kind of material thing, and therefore any material thing can (perhaps only in some extremely remote sense) perform the function of any kind of material thing. The trick is to determine a minimum level of potentiality such that anything that can (at least at this minimum level) perform the functions of a K, is a K, and if it cannot (at that minimum level) then it is not a K. But this seems like a very hard task.

which we traced to the presence of additional components within the table over and above its material components, therefore apply with the same force to molecules as well. More generally, the material components of mereologically complex objects, as well as their material components’…material components, can themselves be expected to exhibit the same dichotomous nature as the wholes of which they are part. ¶ Only objects (if there are any) which lie at the very bottom of the compositional hierarchy, i.e., objects which are not themselves constituted by anything, would present us with an exception to this generalization: if there are such things, they would be non-hybrid; or, at least, the considerations which led us to ascribe a hybrid nature to such objects as tables would not apply to this special case. For the job of an object’s formal components is to specify the variety and configuration that must be exhibited by an object’s material components in order for a whole of this kind to exist; but an object that is not constituted by anything has no material components, and hence has no proper parts that must be of a certain variety and configuration.”

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Index

Absolute Aggregate 41, 45, 48–52, 74, 94–5, Absolute accident 58 97–9, 129 Absolute change 42, 55–56, 58, Albertus Magnus 76 fn. 2, 129, 62–8, 71 129 fn. 13 Absolute effect 19, 23 Albert of Saxony 80 fn. 14, 129, Absolute entity, see Absolute Thing 129 fn. 12 Absolute essence 19, 23, 63, 69 al-Ghāzāli 9 Absolute form 54, 58, 61, 73 Alnwick, William 31, 133 fn. 23 Absolute genus 55 Analysis 1, 22, 65 fn. 7, 77, 79, 117, 123, Absolute nature, see Absolute Essence 125–7, 141, 143, 150 fn. 9, 162, 172, 179 Absolute power 20–23 Hylomorphic analysis 43 fn. 7, 89, Absolute property 41, 64 152–3, 169, 171 Absolute ratio 20 Potency-act analysis 81 Absolute term (of a relation) 64 Angel 10, 10 fn. 7, 29, 49, 61–2, 73, 112, Absolute thing 35, 37 fn. 35, 38 fn. 36, 114, 174 41 fn. 3, 55–56, 59, 66, 68–70 Animal 1, 25, 32, 48, 76–7, 79 fn. 10, 81 fn. Accident 11, 41 fn. 3, 51, 54, 84, 95, 102 fn. 17, 85, 85 fn. 30, 86, 90, 94–6, 103, 105, 26, 112, 120, 130, 133, 141, 175–6 107 fn. 35, 108, 115, 117, 136, 138, 142–3, Accidental essence 28 159–62, 171 Accidental form 12, 30, 43 fn. 7, 49, 54, Blooded animal 103, 138 76 fn. 2, 97, 107 fn. 33, 155–6, 166, 170 Animate 48, 56 fn. 46, 78, 90 fn. 40, Accident Dependent on substance 93, 176 120, 150 fn. 9 Animation 26, 91 Necessary accident 142 Antichrist 19, 28, 30 Proper accident 162–3 Aphrodisias, Alexander of 77 fn. 2 Separated accident 114 Appetite 11–2, 18 Ackrill, J.L. 165, 169, 171, 179, 182 A priori 1 Act, see Actuality Aptitude 11, 52, 112, 114, 119–20 Action 15, 101 fn. 20, 149 Aquinas, Thomas 5, 27, 28 fn. 5, 30 fn. 12, Action of an efficient cause 12, 37, 63 39–40, 42 fn. 3, 45–6, 77 fn. 2, 78, 81–82, 82 Action of an element 131, 141 fn. 20 & 24, 83, 83 fn. 26 & 27, 84, 90 fn. 40, Divine action 8 92, 106 fn. 30, 108, 125, 129–30, 164, 166, 170 Final end of action 137 fn. 4, 171–3, 175, 179–80 Actuality 27, 39–40, 47, 113–4, 118 fn. 18, Aristotle 2, 5, 9, 13 fn. 10, 32, 43 fn. 7, 45–8, 121, 172–3 53, 58, 62, 64, 66–7, 78–80, 81 fn. 18, 96, Adams, Marilyn McCord 6 fn. 1, 30 fn. 16, 103–6, 110, 112 fn. 6, 115, 119, 119 fn. 19, 128, 55 fn. 42, 59 fn. 50, 76 fn. 2, 79 fn. 10, 82, 82 130, 137 fn. 28, 139, 142, 150 fn. 8, 160–1, fn. 22, 99 fn. 9, 100 fn. 14, 118, 119, 119 fn. 19 170–2 & 22, 134 fn. 25, 150 fn. 9 & 12 Arrangement 49, 97, 138 Affectio commodi 150 fn. 8 Astudillo, Diego 84 fn. 29 Affectio iustitiae 150 fn. 8 Augustodunensis, Honorius 147 fn. 3 Agent 9, 12–8, 37, 65, 140–1, 154 Aureole, Peter 129 Created agent, see Natural agent Averroës 46, 128–30 Divine agent 8, 10 Avicebron 76 fn. 2 Natural agent 9–10, 25, 38–9, 134 Avicenna 45–7, 82 fn. 24, 128–30, 132

190 Index

Bare Particular 155 Change as motivation for Bettoni, Efrem 76 fn. 2 hylomorphism 8–12, 152–4 Body 4–5, 28, 41, 43–5, 48, 48 fn. 27, 53, Change in degree 129 58, 64, 77–9, 81–2, 83 fn. 26, 84–5, 90 fn. 40, Relational change, see Relative change 91–3, 98, 102, 104–6, 106 fn. 30, 107 fn. 33 & Relative change 41, 54, 56, 60–1, 63–4, 34, 108–110, 117, 122–3, 126, 128–32, 132 fn. 66–8 20, 134–5, 137–8, 146–7, 160, 162–3, 167–8, Substantial change 7–8, 11, 17, 27, 30, 170–80, 181 fn. 10 40, 78, 89, 108, 155–6, 172, 179 Bradley’s Regress 55 fn. 42 Chemistry 2, 4, 125, 127, 146, 179, 181 Bronze 6–7, 25, 27, 43, 43 fn. 7, 76, 81, 122, Christology 119 169–70, 172 Co-location 134, 137, 180 Buridan, Jean 106–8, 107 fn. 33 & 34, 129 Complex 1, 4–5, 44, 49–50, 59, 89, 114, 123, Bundle Theory 155 136, 145–6, 153–4, 160, 162, 179, 180 Complexion 129, 143 Callus, Daniel A. 176 fn. 2 Complexity 181 fn. 11 Capacity 169, 172 Composition 5, 34, 44, 54, 58–60, 62, Category 41 fn. 3, 119 74–5, 81, 90 fn. 40, 94, 125, 127, 143, 147, Cause 179–81, 182 fn. 11 Accidentally ordered causal series Compound 4, 76, 78, 113, 122, 125–8, 147 100–1 fn. 3, 151, 169–70 Co-cause 65, 67, 74 Composite 1–3, 7, 13, 20, 23–5, 30–3, 38–9, Concurrent cause 63, 67, 72, 92 45–9, 54–6, 66, 68–71, 76 fn. 2, 77–9, 81–3, Efficient cause 4, 8, 12–5, 18–9, 37–9, 81 fn. 19, 92, 95, 106–7, 110–2, 114, 116–7, 63, 65, 70–2, 82–4, 83 fn. 27, 99–106, 101 127–9, 128 fn. 6, 133–6, 153, 155, 162, 165, 170, fn. 20, 115, 126, 136–7, 140–1, 145, 173–5, 172–3, 176–7 177–8, 180 Condemnations of 1277 163 Essentially ordered causal series 4, Connotative 107 99, 101–6, 127, 145, 164 Conservation 38, 140 Extrinsic cause 70, 72 fn. 19, 140, Contingency 120–1, 123 Final cause 4, 99–106, 101 fn. 20, 108, Contingent 4–5, 35, 64, 110–1, 116, 116 fn. 126, 136–7, 137 fn. 28, 145, 150, 150 fn. 8, 14, 118, 120–1, 124, 151, 169, 173, 175–6 164, 180 Continuum 111, 117, 118 fn. 18, 123 fn. 27, 144 Formal cause 62, 68, 70–1, 99–100, fn. 50, 176 102–3 Contradiction 22, 35–6, 88, 93, 101, Intrinsic cause 61–2, 64 fn. 2, 64, 157, 168 70–2, 74 Contradiction between Homonymy Material cause 99–100, 102–3, 102 Principle and Contingently Informed fn. 26 Principle 5, 171 Secondary cause 37, 39 Contradiction in being 82–4 Cell 125, 160, 181 Corpse 5, 43, 78–9, 82–4, 105–6, 106 fn. Chalcedon 119 30, 115, 170, 172–7 Change 1, 3, 6, 10, 16 12–4, 18, 25, 28, 43, Corporeity, see Form of corporeity 53–5, 57–62, 73, 89, 92, 103, 107, 115, 135, Corruption 10, 13–5, 17, 108, 133, 137, 158–9 137–8, 152–5, 163, 169, 172–3, 175–6 Corruption of elements 4, 131, 137–8, Absolute change 41–2, 54, 56, 58, 60–1, 141, 180 63, 65–6, 71 Corruption of relations 68–9 Accidental change 8, 9, 11, 27, 89, 128, Extrinsic corruption 143 155–7

Index 191

Form not inclined to corruption Real distinction 11–2, 16 Ockham’s two kinds of real distinc­ Intrinsic corruption 139–40, 142, tion 57–59, 71 Substantial corruption 11, 13–4, 17–8, Real distinction between matter and 52, 66, 69, 82, 84, 138, 141, 173, 175 form 30, 43, 152, 169, 171 Cosmos 3, 137 fn. 28 Real distinction of the persons of the Creation 38–9 Trinity 30, fn. 15 Cross, Richard 24 fn. 33, 29 fn. 12, 34 fn. Real distinction of substance from its 28, 37 fn. 34, 38–9, 42, 90–1, 93, 109 fn. 39, parts 3, 70 120, 120 fn. 23, 122 fn. 26 Specific distinction 115, 135, 141 Target/count distinction 151 fn. 13 Definition 47–8, 48 fn. 24, 55, 140 fn. 37, Divine 143 Divine agent, see Agent, Divine Real definition 47–8, 47 fn. 23 Divine nature, see Nature, Divine Nominal definition 47 fn. 23 Divine person, see Person, Divine Democritus 8 Divine power, see Power, Divine Denominative Predication 33 Divine volition 161 Dependence Dumont, Stephen 22 fn. 27, 33 fn. 25, 134 Dependence of an agent on a fn. 23 patient 14, 18 Causal dependence 23 fn. 30 Ebrey, David 13 fn. 10 Essential dependence relations Eddington, Arthur 127 fn. 2 45, 101 Effect Essential order of dependence, see Effect of accidentally ordered Essential order, of dependence causes 100 Non-causal dependence 102, 120 Effect of a first cause 145 Destruction Effect of an angel 10 Destruction of an accident 58 Effect of an efficient cause 9, 13–8, 72, Destruction of an entity 53, 57, 59–61, 99–100 73 Effect of an element 128, 141 Destruction of an essential part 52 Effect of an intrinsic cause 58, 62–3, Destruction of a relation 58, 67–8 65, 70–2, 74 Diachronic 154 Effect of a power 19–23 Disposition 26, 91, 95, 131, 172 Effect of a rational power 10 fn. 6 Distinction Effect of essentially ordered causes Distinction between denominative and 67, 99–102, 104 essential predication 32–3 Effect of God 10 Distinction between essential and integral Elements parts 43 Body parts described as elements Distinction between homogeneous and 97–8 heterogeneous substances 122 The Four elements (earth, air, fire, Distinction between natural and rational water) 2–5, 7, 76, 78 fn. 9, 82, 118, powers 10 fn. 6 122, 125–43, 146, 179–80 Distinction between subjective and Matter and form as elements strictly objective potency 29, 40 speaking 140 Distinction between supposits and Qualities of elements 128–9, 143 substances 118–21 Embryo 6, 8, 26, 104 Numerical distinction 78, 141 Embryology 77, 80, 103–4, 115, 146

192 Index

Esse 135–6 Dependence of part on whole for Essence 37, 48, 166 existence 110 Essence cannot contain repugnant Essential dependence of x on y for perfections 88 fn. 37 existence 102 Essence of a power 19, 23 Existence conditions 41, 49, 74 Essence of composite substance Existence conditions of soul in 46–7 matter 91 Essence of matter 37, 39 Existence from something else 7 Essence understood as form 46 Existence of elements in a Divine essence 116 fn. 14 mixture 129, 139 Individual essence 48 Existence of form 39, 154 Objective potency of an essence Existence of informative relation 57 28–30 Existence of intellective soul in Part of an essence 46–8 matter 26 Essential Existence of matter and form prior to their Essential activity 149 causing 72 Essential dependence, see Essential order, Existence of one part efficiently caused by of Dependence another 104 Essential nature 52 Existence of part for the sake of the Essential notion of power 19, 20, 23 whole 110, 135 Essential order, see Essential Order Existence of part prior to whole 115 Essential parts, see Parts, Essential Existence of prime matter 7, 9, 29, 33, Essential perfections 82 37 fn. 35, 38–9 Essential posteriority 100 Existence of relations of union 66 Essential predication, see Predication, Existence of substantial forms of organic Essential parts 83 Essential priority 100 Form strives to conserve existence 8 Essential properties 6, 33, 51 fn. 33, Independence of part on whole for 78, 172 existence 5 Essential unity, see Unity, Essential Natural existence of part in Essential order 3, 45, 100, 102 fn. 24, whole 139 104–5, 108, 145, 148 Objective potency of an essence to its own Essential order of dependence 35, 45, existence 28 47, 100, 106 Parthood relations posterior to existence Essential order of efficient of whole 65 causation 104–5, 136 Per se existence 116 fn. 12 Essential order of eminence 35 Possible exisence 19, 28 Essential order of final causation Requirement of the prior for the existence 105, 108, 136 of the posterior 36 Nonevident essential order Subjective potency of a subject to receive Proximate nonevident essential existence from another 28 order 102, 104 Virtual existence 131 Remote nonevident essential Zapping into existence 9 order 102, 104 Ex nihilo 10 fn. 6, 13–4, 17 Eudaimonia 150 fn. 8 Extended Existence 6, 21, 92, 101 fn. 20, 177 (for Ockham) matter as such is Dependence of accidents on matter for extended 27 existence 84 (for Scotus) matter as such is not Dependence of accidents on substance for extended 27 existence 84, 175 Extended parts, see Parts, Extended

Index 193

Extension Generation 9, 15, 52 fn. 35, 82, 172–3 Of a whole 95 Active generation 12 Of substance 167 Generation ex nihilo 13 Extreme (of a relation), see Term (of a Generation from elements 137–8, relation) 140–2 Generation of corpses 83 Fine, Kit 154 Generation of parts 103 Form Generation of parts prior to generation of Accidental form 30, 49, 54, 76 fn. 2, whole 92, 108, 115 107 fn. 33, 155–7, 166, 170 Generation of an organism 77, 103, Angelic form 49 107, 138 Form of a part (see Forma partis) Generation of a relation 55 Form of corporeity 4, 26, 77, 79, 84–7, Generation of a substance 11–2, 14, 90–3, 117 63–4, 66, 69, 78, 80, 84, 92 Form of the whole (see Forma totius) Passive generation 12 Forma accidentalis mundi 156 Persistence through generation Forma mundi 147, 151–2, 155–6, 164 12–8 Forma partis 45–7 Spontaneous generation 83 Forma totius 45–7 Genus 32, 51, 55–6, 90 fn. 40, 112, 117, 130 Immaterial form 29 Gibbard, Allan 153 fn. 14 Substantial form 2–5, 11–2, 24, 27, 29, Gilson, Étienne 30 fn. 16, 76 fn. 2, 33, 36, 41–3, 45–7, 58, 76–9, 81–99, 101, Giver of Forms 83 103, 105–7, 110–7, 128–32, 135–6, 140–1, Grade (of qualities) 91 143–4, 146–7, 151, 155–6, 158, 161, 163–4, Grahame, Kenneth vi 166, 168, 170–2, 176–81 Grant, Edward 163 fn. 27 Unbounded form 97–8 God Foundation (of a relation) 19, 58, 66, 68 Argument against plurality of gods Frog Prince 25 145 fn. 2 Function Everything exists and acts for God’s Argument for distinct part-substances sake 101, 150 from distinction of functions 80, God alone can produce ex nihilo 13 122 God alone can produce matter 7 Dependence for functioning of some parts God and occasionalism 8 on others 105 God as first efficient and final Function of a substance of a specific cause 145 kind 108 God as giver of forms 83 fn. Function of elements 126, 137 fn. 28 26, 174 Function of integral parts 85–6, 107–8, God can conserve matter without 122 form 31 Function of prime matter 3, 7 God can create withour secondary Function of the heart 109–10 causes 37, 39 Joint-functioning of parts 99 God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit Parts function for the sake of the 119 whole 126, 135 God’s power 25–6, 39, 40, 134, 145 fn. Parts required for a substance to perform 2, 161, 174 its specific function 94 Matter in obediential potency toward Powers exist prior to their God 8 functioning 21 Son of God 119–20, 150 Relationship between kind and Stoic views of God 147 fn. 3 function 5, 170, 182 Haecceity 123 fn. 27

194 Index

Ham Sandwich 153–4 Johnston, Mark 44–5, 165 fn. 2 Henninger, Mark 42 fn. 3, 80 fn. 14 Juxtaposition 128, 134–5 Henry, Devin 83 fn. 26 Henry of Ghent 20, 20 fn. 23, 82 fn. 20, 92 Kind Henry of Harclay 80 fn. 14 Four kinds of elements 4, 118, 122 Hoc aliquid 111, 172, 179 Kinds of causality 42 Homonymy 5, 165, 170, 182 Kinds of change 7 Hot Potato 173 Kinds of composition 145 Hume, David 23, 23 fn. 29, 155 Kinds of essential order 35, 99, 136 Huning, Hildebert Alois 80 fn. 14 Kinds hylomorphism 171 Hypostatic Union 150 Kinds of mixture 142, 179 Hyle (see Matter) Kinds of power 19, 27 Hylomorphic Kinds of substantial form 94, Hylomorphic analysis of change 89, 107, 117 152–7, 165, 171 Kinds of unity 1, 45, 94, 95 fn. 2 Hylomorphic compound 1, 147, 151, Kinds of whole 2, 41, 150 169–70, Membership in a kind 5, 170, 182 Hylomorphic Monism, see Monism, Natural kind 4, 123 Hylomorphic Organic parts as different kinds of Hylomorphic theory 108, 165 substance 5, 48, 93 Hylomorphism 1–2, 4–5, 7, 9, 43–4, 81, King, Peter 24 fn. 33 108 153–7, 165–9, 171, 179, 181 Kinlaw, Caleb 137 fn. 28 Knuuttila, Simo 22 fn. 27 Identity Koslicki, Kathryn 181 fn. 11 Identity of matter independent of form 79, 169 Langston, Douglas 22 fn. 27 Real identity between individual and Leith, John H. 119 fn. 20 essence 48 Lewis, David 23, 23 fn. 30 Inanimate 142 Long, A.A. 147 fn. 3 Incarnation 111, 118–20, 148, 150, Inclination 24 Maier, Anneliese 127–8 Incompossible 10, 88 Malebranche 9 Indiscernibility of Identicals 173–5, 178 Marshall, Peter 80 fn. 14 Individual 1, 12, 26, 34–5, 39, 48, 54, 57, Massobrio, Simona 29 fn. 12 62, 74, 79, 91, 111, 119–21, 123, 128, 144, 150, Matter 158–61, 166 Matter incapable of destruction by natural Infinite powers 58 Actual infinite 117, 122, 126, 176 Prime matter 2–3, 6–9, 11–2, 21, 23–9, Infinitely divisible 123 fn. 27, 126, 176 45, 61–2, 78–9, 81, 92, 98, 114, 116, 129, Infinite regress 7, 44, 45, 54 133, 140, 144, 172–3, 176–7, 179 Inherence 12, 42 fn. 3, 80, 84, 89, 91, 95, Proximate matter 6–8, 24, 26, 30, 172 112–4, 119, 141, 162, 175 Mereological sum 49, 148 Instant Metaphysics 1, 2, 58, 102 fn. 26, 108, 111, Naturally ordered instants 65 118–9, 125, 127, 148, 150, 165, 174, 176, 179 Instant of corruption 13–5, 78, 177 Miraculous 58, 84, 112, 135, 137, 175 Instant of generation 78, 108, 177 Mixture 2, 3, 4, 125–44 180 Instant of nature 65, 65 fn. 7 Form of the mixture 85 fn. 31, 96 Temporal instant 22, 65, 67 Homogeneous mixture 144, 170, 179 Jesus Christ 150 Mole, see Mr. Mole,

Index 195

Monism 148, 151 Opposite 9, 9 fn. 4, 10, 130 Morphé, see Form Power for opposites 15 fn. 15 Motion Opposition Elemental motion 137, 180 Logical opposition 10 Local motion 53–4, 58 Metaphysical opposition 10 Non-natural motion 180 Opposition of elements 139 Rectilinear motion 163 Opposition of forms 12, 16 Mr. Mole 1, 5, 41, 43–4, 50, 56, 78, 81–4, Organ Donation 177 94–5, 99, 101, 103, 105–8, 110–1, 122–3, 125, Organism 2, 4–5, 43, 45, 76–9, 80, 82–5, 135, 146–8, 150–2, 159, 172–8, 180–2 92, 104–8, 110–1, 115, 118, 121–2 Muñoz Garcia, Angel 80 fn. 14 Organization 1, 99, 165

Natural order, also see Instant, of Paasch, JT 20 fn. 23, 21 fn. 24, 22 fn. 28 nature 65, 72, Parmenides 8 Nature Parsimony 59, 81, 132, 145 fn. 2 Author of nature 83 Part(s) Divine nature 119 Actual parts 7, fn. 2, 117, 122, 140 Human nature 119, 121, 150 Arbitrary parts 121–24 Individual substance nature 119–20 Essential parts 2–3, 41–2, 47–8, Nature (in general) 6 52, 61, 68–70, 72, 74, 76–8, 92, 114, 117, Nature of accidents 84, 175 121, 163 Nature of causal power 19–21 Extended parts 4, 41 Nature of change 9 Form as part 1, 20, 31, 35 fn. 29, 41, Nature of elements 128 43–8, 66, 71, 74, 153 Nature of form 16, 71 Heterogeneous parts 79, 90 fn. 40, 123, Nature of prime matter 7, 12–3, 18, 140, 142–43, 160 33–4, 39–40, 71, 169 Homogenous parts 79, 90 fn. 40, 118, Nature of substance 32 123, 123 fn. 27, 142–43, 160, 176 Necessary 3, 7–9, 11–2, 24–5, 39, 47, 54–5, Integral parts 2, 41, 54, 76–7, 80–1, 84, 59, 61, 64–5, 91, 93, 95, 110, 118, 122, 129, 131, 90 fn. 40; 92, 96, 98, 106, 108, 110–11, 114, 134, 136, 142, 146, 148–9, 160–1, 164, 171, 173 116, 125, 177 Necessity 114, 132, 154 Logical parts 48 Noone, Timothy 33 fn. 25 Material parts 1, 4, 41, 97–8, Normore, Calvin 22 fn. 27, 41 fn. 1, 65 fn. 153, 160 7, 77 fn. 2, 117, 117 fn. 18, 118, 161 fn. 22 Matter as part 11, 13–14, 16, 18, 24, 26, 28, 31, 33, 35 fn. 29, 39, 47–8, 66, 71, 74, Objective potency, see Potency, Objective 153, 166 Ockham’s Razor, see Parsimony Parts of a continuum 117, 118 fn. 18, Ockham, William 27, 42–3, 46, 51–62, Parts Of an aggregate 48–9, 52, 94, 70–1, 78–9, 111, 115–8, 120–1, 129, 162–3, 166 97–8 Olivi, Peter John 79 fn. 14 Parts Of an essence 46–7 Ontology 3, 27, 126 Parts Of a unity of inherence 95 Operation 5, 86, 161–3 Parts Of form 116 Diversity of operations in human Parts Of matter 86–8, 116, 129–30, 152, beings 142 180 fn. 10 Operation discloses form 161 Parts Of substance 111–12, 151 Operation of intellective soul 26, 91 Parts Organic 5–6, 26, 76, 85–6, 90–3, Operation of whole not reducible to 96–8, 98 fn. 7, 100, 103, 106, 115, 135–36, operations of parts 148, 163 138, 142–43, 146, 167

196 Index

Part(s) (cont.) Aquinas’s objection to pluralism 90 Part outside of part 27 fn. 40 Part-substance 4, 77, 79, 85, 94, 96, 98 Ockham’s pluralism 117 fn. 7, 99, 103–5, 108, 120–21, 126, 135–36, Scotistic pluralism 5, 42 fn. 5, 79, 81, 146–51, 155, 157–58, 164, 166, 168–69, 94, 105, 114–5, 132, 158, 166–9, 177–8 176, 178–81 Standard pluralism 79, 84, 86, 105, Passive power as part 20, 25 166–9, 176–7 Predication of a property of the whole to a Porphyrian Tree 56 fn. 46, 90 fn. 40 part, see Denominative predication Possible Parts prior to whole 2 Co-location possible by divine Proper parts 181 fn. 11 power 134 Quantitative parts 43, fn. 8; 126, 128 Logically possible for essentially prior exist Relative parts 145 fn. 1, without essentially posterior 36 Substantial parts 43, fn. 8 Logically possible for matter to exist Parthood relations, see Relation, of part to without form 36 whole Not possible for species to be Particle 125, 181 fn. 11 corrupted 160 Pasnau, Robert 76 fn. 2, 80 fn. 14, Not possible for substance to exist without 122 fn. 26 causality of matter and form 47 Passion 12, 163 Possible being 27 Patient Possible existence 19, 28 Elements as patient 141 Possible for matter and form to exist and Patient of change 13–4 not compose a substance 51 Patient on which an agent acts 9–18 Possible substancehood of the whole Perfection world 150 Essential order of Possibility eminence/perfection 35, 99 Logical possibility 36 Essential perfection 82 Necessity implies possibility 114 Many perfections virtually contained in Possibility of change as motivation for one form 85–7, 89, 152 hylomorphism 153–4 Repugnant perfections 87–90, Synchronic possibility 22 fn. 27 152, 156 Posterior Unity of perfection 96–7, 99 Essentially posterior 36, 99–100 Persistence Naturally posterior 19, 23 Persistence of body through death 79 Relation of whole to part naturally Persistence of matter through posterior to relation of part to change 3, 7, 8, 12–3, 16–8, 28, 30, whole 65 36, 40, 43, 169, 172 Relations in matter and form Persistence of relations through naturally posterior to death 106 composite 56, 64–5 Person 113–4, 119–21, 175 Potency Divine person 30 fn. 15, 116 fn. 14, Adequate potency 97 119–20 Immediate potency 25 Physics 1–2 Juxtaposed elements not in potency to Place 53–4, 58, 134–5 substantial form 135–6 Places of elements 126, 128, 139, 180 Minimum level of potentiality required for Plato 64, 121 membership in a kind 182 Pluralism (about substantial form) Obediential potency 8, 23–26 105, 173 Objective potency 28–30, 40

Index 197

Passive potency 24–5 Individuals are prior to their relations to Potency as a mode of being 19 other individuals 57 Potency as a principle 19 Matter is actual prior to Potency of matter 8, 26, 51–2 form 57 Pure potency 40, 51 fn. 33, 172, 179 Matter prior to form in essential order of Several substances together in potency to dependence 35–6 substantial form 3, 81, 97–8, Naturally prior 20, 64–5, 72 146, 158 Parts prior to whole 2 Special potency question, see Special Powers prior to their effects 21 Potency Question Temporally prior 80, 115 Subjective potency 27–30, 40 The essentially prior cannot exist without The world in potency to a soul? 147 the essentially posterior 36 Potential Principiation 72 Potential effect of a power 21 Principle Potential of a plurality of substances to Aristotelian principle about relational compose one substance 4, 127 change 62–4, 66–8 Potential relation 21 Contingently informed principle The sense in which prime matter is a 169 potential entity 29 Passive power as a principle 20 Unity of order required for several things Homonymy principle 5, 170, 182 potentially to compose one Principle of nature 89, 140 fn. 33 substance 99 Potency as a principle 19 Potentiality, see Potency Principle of charity 36 Power Principle of parsimony, see Active power 11, 13 Parsimony Causal power 15–9, 25 Principle of unity 2–3, 44–5, 153 Creation of prime matter not within the Substance in the sense of a principle of an power of creatures 38, 58 ens per se 112 Divine power 2–3, 25, 27–8, 39, 41, 49, Process 178 110, 113, 180 Infinite process, see Infinite, Regress Matter as a power 27 Process of generation 10, 77, Natural power 10 fn. 6 107–8, 138 Passive power 3, 7–8, 11, 13, Production, 153 18–23, 40 Four causes essentially ordered in Power of substantial form of an production of their joint effect 99 element 131 Production ex nihilo 13 Powers as absolute entities 23 Production of a corpse 83 Rational power 10 fn. 6 Production of a material substance Will power 10 fn. 7 13, 16, 58, 71 Presence Production of a power’s effect 21 Presence of a patient weakens the power Production of an absolute of an agent 16 form 54, 58 Presence of form in matter 6 Production of an entity explains changes Presence sicut in effecti communi 141 in relations 3, 42, 71 Virtual presence 141 Production of an entity is a kind of Prior change 53 Essentially prior 66–7, 99–100, 105 Production of an essential part necessary Form prior to matter in essential order of for generation 52 fn. 35 eminence 35–6 Production of matter 39

198 Index

Property 24 fn. 33, 41, 80, 86, 109 fn. 39, Mutual relation 19, 23, 42 fn. 3, 66, 120, 134, 155, 161, 176 68–9 Contingent property 116, 124 Parthood, see Relation of part to Essential property 78, 172 whole Modal property 80, 153 Relation of part to whole 41–2, 63–71, Opposition between properties 10 150 fn. 9, 167 Property in the technical sense of Transitivity of relation of part to proprium 3, 125, 141–2, 162 whole 166, 181 fn. 11 Relative property 41 fn. 3 Relation of whole to part 46, 65 Totality relation 65–6, 68–9 Qualitative Union relation 64–5, 67–9 Qualitative accident 141 Relative 20, 41, 41 fn. 3, 45, 49, 50, 54–8, Qualitative change 10 fn. 7, 89 61–2, 66, 69–71, 73, 100, 106, 106 fn. 30, 145 Qualitative form 27, 102, 113, 129 fn. 1 Qualitative feature 82 Reproduction 30 Quality 26, 91 Repugnant 52, 87–9, 120, 152, 156, 161 Category of quality 41 fn. 3 Richard of Middleton 79, 139, 142 Intermediary quality 130 Risibility 142, 162–3 Quality depends on quantity 102–3 Quality of an element 139, 141, 143 Sameness Quantitative Numerical sameness 79 Quantitative form(s) 27, 64, 113, 179–80 Specific sameness 79 Argument from quantitative Sandbach, F.H. 147 fn. 3 forms 132–137 Schaffer, Jonathan 151 fn. 13 Quantitative part(s), see Parts, quantitative Sedley, D.N. 147 fn. 3, Quantitative totality 87–89, 152 Sensitive, see Soul, sensitive Quantity Separability Category of quantity 41 fn. 3 Particular separability 34–39 Form of quantity 27, 102, 129–30, Total separability 3, 34–40, 53, 72 133–34, 180 fn. 10 Sequence 107–8 Quantity as foundation of a relation 56 Sharp, Dorothea 77 fn. 3, 79 fn. 11 Quantity cause of quality 102, fn. 26 Shields, Christopher 165 fn. 1 Quantity dependent on matter for Simons, Peter 49 fn. 29, 75 fn. 21 existence 84 Simple 1, 49, 110, 131, 168 Quality dependent on quantity 102 Simplicity 8, 59, 120 Quantity subject of quality 102–3, Soul 1, 4, 8, 25–6, 28, 31, 41, 43–6, 48, 53, fn. 26 58, 64, 77–9, 80 fn. 14, 81–2, 84–7, 90 fn. 40, 91, 93–6, 98, 106–9, 116–8, 121 Rational, see Soul, rational Appetitive soul, see Vegetative Rea, Michael 153 fn. 14, Intellective soul, see Rational Relation Rational soul 26, 48, 53, 58, 79, 82 fn. Background on medieval views about 35, 91, 116–8, 121 relation 41 fn. 3 Sensitive soul 41, 43, 48, 56 fn. 46, Causal relation 21, 41–2, 62–3, 65, 78–9, 81, 86–7, 94–6, 107–8, 117, 168, 172, 68–9, 72 fn. 19, 100, 106, 150 176 Co-causal relation 62–3, 66–7, 69 Vegetative soul 79, 94, 167–8 Extrinsic relation 64, 66 Special Composition Question 44, 94 Intrinsic intrinsic 64 Special Potency Question 94–5, 106

Index 199

Species 1, 26, 32, 46, 55, 91, 112, 118, 120–1, The Philosopher, see Aristotle 129, 131–2, 136, 159, 160–2 Thisness, see Haeceeity Stella, Prospero 76 fn. 2, Tree of Porhphyry, see Porphyrian Tree Stone, Abraham 128 fn. 9 Trifogli, Cecilia 126 fn. 1 Structure 1, 6, 42, 49, 67, 84, 86–7, 89, 90 Trinity 30 fn. 15, 120 fn. 40, 126 Two Tables 127 Suárez, Francisco 83, 128 fn. 7 Subject 3–4, 11–2, 16, 21, 23, 25–30, 33, 34 Unitarianism (about substantial form) fn. 24, 37, 40, 41 fn. 3, 64, 80, 95, 97, 103 fn. 78–9, 81–3, 86–7, 106, 108, 115, 151, 161, 166, 26, 107, 109, 112–3, 120, 133, 146, 150 fn. 9, 168–9, 171, 173–7, 181 152, 154, 162, 172, 179–80 Unity 74, 94, 127, 153 Subjective potency, see Potency, Subjective Accidental unity 51, 64 Substance Degrees of unity 48–51, 94–5 Composite substance 3, 38–9, 48, 55, Diachronic unity 154 68, 76, 78–9, 81, 114, 116, 133, 135, 162 Different kinds of unity 45 Immaterial substance 76 fn. 1 Elements lack the unity needed to Material substance 2, 4, 7, 11, 16, 24, 33, compose a substance 5 42, 44, 46–9, 51, 56, 58, 61, 72, 76, 82–3, Essential unity 33 fn. 24 99, 101, 109–10, 125–8, 132–3, 139, 144, Principle of unity 2, 44 151, 155, 165 Proper unity 96–7 Part-substance, see Part, part-substance Substantial unity 1, 41, 50–1, 74, 80, 92, Primary substance 119 95–6, 108, 163 Secondary substance 119 Synchronic unity 154 Substance really distinct from parts Unity of aggregate 51, 180 58, 72, 74, 109 fn. 39 Unity of inherence 95 World-substance 5, 146, 158 Unity of matter and form 41 fn. 2, 45 Substratum 27, 78, 172 fn. 14, 52 Subtle Doctor, see Scotus, John Duns Unity of order 4, 45, 81, 87, 93–4, 97–8, Supposit 4, 111, 113–4, 116–8, 121 100, 103, 105–6, 136, 145–6, 158, 164, 180 Christ’s human nature not a Unity of perfection 96–7 supposit 120 Unity of the world 145 fn. 1, 148 Created substance only contingently a Unity per se 48–9, 115 supposit 4, 110–1, 116, 120 Unity per accidens 49 Distinction between substance and Universe 145 fn. 2, 150, 158–61 supposit 4, 115, 118–9 Elemental substance is a supposit van Inwagen Peter 44, 94, 121 135–6 Violence 139–40, 140 fn. 34, 180 Parts can become supposits 116 Virtual 86 Virtual containment 85–9, 152, 156 Taylor, A.E. 147 fn. 3 Virtual existence 125, 128 fn. 6, 131–2, Teleological 141 Teleological autonomy 149–50 Virtual totality 87 Teleological instrumentality 149 Virtue 3, 11, 18, 24, 32, 44, 56, 63, 65, 86, Term 104, 113, 128, 146, 153, 176 Term of a change 10, 12, 18, 30, 39, 137, 146, 150 fn. 8, Wadding, Luke 31, 31 fn. 20, 34, 133 135 Term of a relation 20, 23, 42 fn. 3, 55, Wasserman, Ryan 153 fn. 14 64, 101, 105 145 fn. 1 Weisheipl, James A. 76 fn. 2

200 Index

Weisberg, Michael 128 fn. 9 Relation of part to whole 65, 72 Wiggins, David 153 fn. 14 fn. 19 Williams, Scott M. 20 fn. 23 Relation of whole to part 46, 69 Williams, Thomas 31 fn. 20, 133 fn. 23 Structured whole 1 Whole 47, 85, 92 Whole body 177 Composite whole 2, 44, 46, 92, 135–6 Whole continuous substance 126 Different kinds of wholes 41, 49, 51, Whole identical with parts 41, 49 148, 150 Whole matter 97 Form of the whole 45–7 Whole substance 33, 47, 50, Generation of whole 103, 115 54–5, 57, 61, 73, 92, 104, 109, 136, 166–7 Non-reducible operation of whole World as a whole 5, 89, 145–7, 151–2, 148, 161 159–60 Parts for the sake of the whole 104 Wood, Rega 22 fn. 27, 128 fn. 9, 161 fn. 22 Parts have natural existence in the World 1–3, 5, 23, 89, 99, 117, 145 fn. 1, whole 139 145–8, 150–2, 155–64 Parts prior to whole 2 Wyatt, Nicole 22 fn. 27 Real distinction of whole from parts 3, 70–2 Zavalloni, Roberto 76 fn. 2, 79 fn. 11