Michael Della Rocca
VILJANEN, Valtteri. Spinoza’s
Geometry of Power, Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, 2011, 208 pp.
It was an early instance of that very effective rhetorical
move, "You're as bad as Spinoza". Leibniz charged in his "De
Ipsa Natura" (1698) that, by denying power to finite entities, the
occasionalism of Malebranche and other Cartesians "seems with Spinoza to
make of God the
very nature of things, while created things disappear into mere
modifications of the divine substance".[1] The
general worry here is that the occasionalists, like Spinoza, were guilty of
removing any genuine nature from finite things and thus were guilty of
stripping from them any causal power. In rejecting occasionalism, Leibniz --as
is well-known-- contends that finite things and substances in general or, to
use a term he was then beginning to use at this point, "monads" have
a nature of their own and have causal power that stems from that nature.
Leibniz rightly sees his own view as, in many ways, a return to a pre-Cartesian
view of the natures of substances, a view replete with teleology and final
causes and all that good Aristotelian-Scholastic stuff. For Leibniz (and his
illustrious pre-Cartesian predecessors), all causal power is a function of the
essences or natures of things and, by eliminating the essence or nature of
finite things, Spinoza --as well as the occasionalists-- were guilty of
saddling us with a world of inert objects.
This characterization and criticism
of the occasionalists and of Cartesians may or may not be fair -- that's
another story. But whether this is a fair criticism of Spinoza is the story of
Valtteri Viljanen's book, and it is one of the book's great virtues that it
explains just how wildly off-base this criticism of Spinoza is. Far from
denying that things have essences and power, as an occasionalist might, and far
from attributing causal power to things only as, at best, an extrinsic property
of those things not grounded in their natures (as Descartes and other
mechanists might have done), Spinoza, in an Aristotelian spirit, attributes
robust causal power to objects as flowing from their essences. Thus, speaking
of God, Spinoza says, "From the necessity of the divine nature there must
follow infinitely many things in infinitely many modes (i.e. everything which
can fall under an infinite intellect)" (E1p16). As Viljanen stresses, the
demonstration of this proposition "turns on the tenet that 'the intellect
infers from the given definition of any thing a number of properties that
really do follow from it (i.e., from the very essence of the thing)''' (p. 41).
Similarly, for Spinoza, particular objects that are mere modes of God also have
natures that determine (at least in part) the properties of those things. As
Spinoza says of bodies, "All modes by which a body is affected by another
body follow both from the nature of the body affected and at the same time from
the nature of the affecting body" (E2ax1 after le3). Viljanen aptly sums
up Spinoza's view with the slogan, "things are essential causers of
properties" (p. 41).
However, despite this genuine
affinity with aspects of an Aristotelian view of causation, Spinoza is not
fundamentally an Aristotelian in this matter. More than anything else, what, in
Viljanen's eyes, prevents Spinoza's position from being fully Aristotelian is
Spinoza's rejection of any form of teleology as playing a genuine causal role.
Viljanen makes a powerful case for seeing Spinoza as denying that things are
end-directed. Although Viljanen sees many virtues in recent readings --particularly Don Garrett's[2]-- that accord robust teleology to Spinoza, in the end, Viljanen sides with
more recent and traditional end-free readings of Spinoza. Here Viljanen's
position is more in line with John Carriero's radically teleological-free
interpretation[3],
and I would say that Viljanen's criticisms of Carriero's reading (pp. 109-12)
may not go very deep and do not take away from the fundamental similarity
between these two interpretations when it comes to the rejection of teleology.
But without the teleology, without the final causes that
were for Aristotelians often seen as the cause of the causes, where would the
causal power of finite objects come from? Perhaps Leibniz is right, after all,
that Spinoza has no room for real causal power. To avoid this charge, Spinoza
turns, according to Viljanen, to the model of geometry: Spinoza's
"doctrine of causation is derived from the geometry-inspired
doctrine of being" (p. 4). Just as geometric objects --which are non-real,
non-concrete-- have a nature from which all their properties flow with
necessity in a fashion that is not end-governed, so too objects in general have
a geometrical structure (p. 2) and all the properties of objects are determined
by their nature alone (this would be a case of adequate causation in Spinoza's
terms --see E3def1), or by that nature together with the nature of other things
(this would be inadequate causation). In both adequate and inadequate
causation, causation stems from essences alone in a non-teleological fashion.
In this way, causation is immanent --as in Aristotle-- but --as in the
occasionalists and in the Cartesians more generally-- is not directed by ends
that stem from the natures of finite objects. As Viljanen puts the point,
"Final causes are missing from Spinoza's world whose structure is modeled
after geometry" (p. 178).
Further, by endowing objects with a perfectly intelligible
structure in the geometrical style, Viljanen's Spinoza is able to see physical
objects and objects generally, as well as their causal relations, as
intelligible through and through (p. 2). This commitment to thoroughgoing
intelligibility was something occasionalists and Cartesians typically were not
able to achieve. I find this concern with intelligibility to be an especially
attractive feature of Viljanen's reading, and, to my knowledge, this book gives
the most detailed and insightful account of the way in which geometry guides
Spinoza's metaphysics.
But how far does Viljanen's emphasis on the geometrical go
in providing a locus of genuine causal power? Viljanen stresses that the
geometrical order is only a model, for geometrical objects are --in contrast
to tables and rocks and dogs and God-- non-real. As Viljanen claims, for
Spinoza, "unlike geometrical objects that are mere beings of reason (entia
rationis), God is a real thing, indeed the most real thing there is
(ens realissimum)" (p. 62). Other objects --which Viljanen (though
not Spinoza) calls "concrete" (pp. 15, 30)-- are also real though, of
course, without being realissima. Without appealing to an order beyond
the merely conceptual order of beings of reason, we cannot, according to
Viljanen, account for the kind of resistance and real opposition that objects
manifest in relation to one another. A conceptual order can provide, at most,
for logical opposition or contradiction, but not real opposition, which, for
Viljanen, Spinoza portrays as a genuine feature of the world in his conatus
doctrine (E3p4-p6) and elsewhere (see pp. 96-97, 101n46). Viljanen enlists the
support of Kant to articulate the distinction between mere logical opposition
and real opposition (p. 96). Viljanen also sees this bifurcation between the
non-logical and the logical, between the real and the conceptual, at work in
Spinoza's separation of the temporal order from the order of formal essences
(pp. 22-23).
But, despite its Kantian pedigree, is this bifurcation
between the real and the conceptual intelligible in Spinoza's own terms? The
reality --beyond the conceptual-- of my existence and power is grounded in the
reality --beyond the conceptual-- of God's existence and power. In order to
make the distinction between the real and the conceptual intelligible, we must ask,
"What does this reality --either of God or of me-- consist in?"
Viljanen's approach helps us appreciate the significance of this question, but
his Spinoza does not seem to address this question directly (nor does Kant, for
that matter --but that is yet another story). The worry is that Spinoza's love
affair with intelligibility as evinced by his geometrical model may be
threatened by a potentially unintelligible distinction between the real and the
conceptual. In light of this concern about the intelligibility of the
distinction, we should perhaps revisit the question of whether, as Viljanen
holds, Spinoza is committed to the distinction between the real and the
concrete, on the one hand, and the non-real and the conceptual, on the other.
And thus we can perhaps --taking inspiration from Viljanen's approach-- take up
again the vital question of how far we can go with Spinoza's geometrical model.
How far can geometry --governed as it is by "merely" conceptual
connections-- take us? In interpreting Spinoza, can we go all the way and elide
the difference between the real and the conceptual or is doing so something we
will come to regret?
One of the great virtues of Viljanen's rich and
sophisticated book is that, without going over this precipice, it brings us to
the brink of taking this last momentous, wonderful, and perhaps terrifying
step.
[1]
G.W. Leibniz, Philosophical Essays, translated by Roger Ariew and Daniel
Garber, Indianapolis: Hackett (1989), p. 165.
[2]
Don Garrett, “Teleology in Spinoza and Early Modern Rationalism”, in Rocco
Gennaro and Charles Huenemann (eds.), New Essays on the Rationalists,
New York: Oxford University Press (1999), pp. 310-35.
[3] John Carriero, “Spinoza on Final
Causality”, in Daniel Garber and Steven Nadler (eds.), Oxford Studies in
Early Modern Philosophy, vol. 2, Oxford: Clarendon Press, pp. 105-47.
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