This is second in a series of posts on teleology and the natural law. In my previous post, I sketched the difference between the new natural law and classical Aristotelian-Thomist natural law.
Once one has causal power in one’s ontology, one also has teleology. Each causal power is essentially forward-looking: it refers to a possible but not-yet actual result, a result that would occur if and when the causal power manifests itself. So, for example, every negatively charged particle has the power to repel other negatively charged particles. A particular electron has this power even if it never encounters any other negatively charged particles and so never exercises the power. Causal powers are naturally ordered toward a possible future state, their manifestation.
Thus, causal powers have what George Molnar (2003, 60–66) and David Armstrong (1999, 138–40) have labeled ‘physical intentionality’. Just as the intentional state of a mind (like an opinion or a desire) can be directed to object that doesn’t in fact exist, so too can a causal power be naturally directed to a possible manifestation that is never actualized. A bit of fire may never have the opportunity to heat anything, and yet it retains a power of heating that is directed to a class of merely possible events. If we are to take causal powers seriously, we must take this kind of intentionality seriously as well.
For Aquinas, final causation (causation in terms of ends) is merely another way of describing the same phenomenon as efficient causation (causation in terms of intrinsic active powers). His reason for this claim is very simple: “For if an agent were not oriented to some effect, it would not do this more than that” (ST II-I, Q1, a2). In other words, the fact that the active causal power of an agent is directed to some specific form of manifestation suffices for the agent to be acting for an end. The end of the action is simply the characteristic form of manifestation of the agent’s power.
So, if there are irreducibly human causal powers, these powers bring with them irreducibly human teleology.
And, if there is an irreducibly human form of teleology, we can sensibly ask whether the human being has, a whole, a single end (telos, final cause). If human beings do have a telos, then discovering what that telos is would be of great importance, as Aristotle argued in Book I of the Nicomachean Ethics:
“Will not the knowledge of it [the chief good], then, have a great influence on life? Shall we not, like archers who have a mark to aim at, be more likely to hit upon what is right?”
“To say that happiness is the chief good seems a platitude, and a clearer account of what it is is still desired. This might perhaps be given, if we could first ascertain the function (ergon) of man.” (Aristotle 1980, 2, 12)
In the Summa Theologiae (I-II Q1, a5) and in his commentaries on Aristotle’s Ethics and Metaphysics (In Ethica I, par. 11-12, In Metaphysica IX, par. 1862-65), Thomas Aquinas identifies both the final cause of a human being and human happiness (our chief good) with our self-perfection as a substance, which is further identified with the actualization of certain of our natural powers or potentialities.
Doesn’t this implicate the Aristotelian-Thomist in what G. E. Moore called the naturalistic fallacy? Doesn’t it involve an invalid inference from what is (the final cause of human nature) to what ought to be (the good of human happiness)? From a proper Aristotelian perspective, there is no such fallacy and no such gap. The plausibility of Hume’s theory of the is/ought gap depends on failing to distinguish between what a particular human being takes as good on a particular occasion and what human nature directs that human being to value (which is the final cause of human being). The mere fact that someone happens to want or desire something does not make it good, but if the pursuit of something is essential to being human, then that is precisely what ‘being a human good’ means. [13 min 30 sec]
In Aristotle’s system, there are three kinds of powers or potentialities (dunameis): active, passive, and immanent. An active causal power is a power to cause a change in something else (the patient). A passive causal power is the potentiality to be changed in a certain by some agent. An immanent causal power is the power to engage in a certain kind of activity, one that “stays within” the agent, as in the case of activities like imagination or contemplation.
Immanent powers are unconditional in a way that the other two are not. An immanent power manifests itself in a substance whenever the substance is in a normal condition in a normal environment. and no obstacle to the activity intrudes. An active power can be exercised only when an appropriate kind of patient is present, and passive power is manifested only when the corresponding active power is exercised. So, when we speak of the telos or natural end of a substance (like a human organism), we are primarily referring to the exercise of immanent powers.
Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas both identify human happiness (eudaemonia or beatitudo) with the actualizing of our immanent causal powers—in particular, our potentiality for the activity of intellectual contemplation. However, this strikes me (and many others) as too narrow. This is a point of agreement between the NN Lawyers and me.
Contrary to the views of Aristotle and Thomas, there are some active and passive powers that also seem to be implicated in human happiness. For example, sense perception is a passive power—the potentiality to be affected by objects and conditions in our environment, and surely being able to perceive things is partly constitutive of happiness. The activities of friendship and of political participation involve both active and passive powers, as well as immanent potentialities. So, perhaps we should give a certain priority or centrality to the actualizing of immanent powers without completely excluding active and passive ones.
There is second set of distinctions, which cuts across this first one. A human being has causal powers on at least four different levels: (1) a physical-chemical level, (2) a vegetable or merely-organic level, (3) a sentient-animate level, and (4) a rational-political level.
In identifying the human telos, we can immediately set aside those causal powers that are merely physical in nature. We want to know what the end of human beings is, and that means the end of each human being as a whole. Our physical and chemical powers are possessed by our material parts and not a single, unified entity. My body has the physical potential to break a glass window when thrown at it with sufficient force, and the chemical potential to generate a quantity of ashes if incinerated. Clearly, the actualization of such powers is irrelevant to my happiness.
In the Nicomachean Ethics Book I, Aristotle seems to limit happiness to the exercise of our rational powers (and those that presuppose rationality), since these are the only powers of ours not found among any non-human organisms. Once again, this restriction seems unwarranted. Why should human happiness involve only those powers that are unique to human beings? Surely health and the exercise of our five senses contribute constitutively to our happiness.
A third distinction among causal powers is that between essential powers and accidental ones. By essential powers, I mean those powers that are constitutive of or flow necessarily from our essence as human beings. I’m including those powers that scholastic philosophers called ‘propria’ or ‘proper accidents’. By accidental powers I mean those that bear only a contingent relationship to our essence. So, for example, I would classify our power of speech, our potential for musicality, and our capacity for humor as essential powers. In contrast, my power to speak English or Spanish are only contingent powers. The human essence does not entail speaking one language or another.
The distinction between essential and accidental powers is not equivalent to the distinction between innate and acquired powers. Infants are not born with the capacity to speak—this power must be developed over time. But it is nonetheless an essential power.
Clearly, human happiness (our chief good) demands only that we actualize some of our essential powers, not merely accidental ones.
I want to make one last (fourth) distinction among our powers: that between conditional and unconditional powers. I have the passive power to perceive a green pentagram, when one is in my immediate environment. However, I could be perfectly happy without ever exercising that particular power, so long as I never encounter any green pentagrams. And there is nothing abnormal or life-denying about a green-pentagram-free environment. In contrast, the exercise of my general power of sight is partly constitutive of my happiness. The general power of seeing is relatively unconditional, when compared to the power of seeing a green pentagram.
Similarly, my body has the power to fight infections through its immune system, but one could be perfectly happy without exercising that power, so long as one does not encounter in infectious pathogens.
But none of our powers are absolutely unconditional. They all depend on two things: on our internal constitution being in a healthy and intact state, and on our being located in a normal environment (that is, an environment that is normal for human beings). How can we define or even discern what is normal in these two ways? Do we have to rely on a brute intuition of a normative kind to do so? Or does ‘normal’ simply mean common or typical? Or desirable?
I think we can define normality scientifically, in a way that does not rely on mere frequency or on desirability. In making this claim, I will rely on Bishop Joseph Butler’s Fifteen Sermons Preached at the Rolls Chapel (1729), specifically, on Sermons 2 and 3. In these sermons, Butler focuses on the way in which our various desires, drives, and impulses form a coherent system, which he calls the “constitution of human nature.” I will take up this task in my next post.