Mind the Chasm

One of the over-arching questions of philosophy, and in particular metaphysics (my favorite branch, by the way, purely because of the name), is the problem of duality. Stated simply, it is this:

There seem to be two sorts of things: ideas, and objects. Ideas exist conceptually, within the mind, while objects exist physically, within the external world. But how is it that two unlike things can interact and effect one another, if they exist in fundamentally different spaces and possess entirely unlike qualities?

There are essentially two approaches to answering this question. The first, dualism, is to address the concerns raised and attempt to offer an explanation. Dualism is remarkably widespread; in addition to being found in Hindu texts and the teachings of Zarathushtra (the founder of Zoroastrianism, not the main character of Neitzche's Thus Spoke Zarathushtra), and in fact addressed in pretty much every religon ever, dualism was the general stance of Plato, Descartes, and Malebranch.

Plato, of course, had his theory of Forms. Remember, Plato contended that underlying the identification of physical objects (say, horses) is their reflection of a certain ideal Form (so, correctly capitalized, Horse). This Form has, to perfection, every trait which is fundamental to horsefulness, and no traits which are not. Therefore the physical horses we experience are but pale imitations, shadows and disstorted reflections, of the true Horse.

Dualism was also for Descartes. In fact, one of his first steps in formulating his philosophy was to realize that, while he could imagine existing without a body, he could not imagine existing without a thinking mind (the cogito in 'cogito ergo sum'). As he saw it, the body was an extended (that is, physically existant) and non-thinking thing, while the mind was a thinking, non-extended thing. Thus, two types of things, and therefore dualism.

Malebranche, a follower of Descartes, addressed the problem of how two unlike things, mind and body, can interact. Following the finest tenets of logical reasoning, he approached it with the classic Medieval approach: "God did it." Okay, that's not giving him enough credit, but that's what it boils down to. When Malebranche thinks to move his arm, he does not move it himself, but instead God provides the efficient cause for both the arm moving and for the thought itself.

The counter-point to all this, if you haven't guessed already, is Monism. According to monism, the problem of how entirely unrelated things interact is simply based on a mistaken belief that there are more than one type of thing. This is the stance of Spinoza and Berkeley, as well as Parmenides (the only pre-Socratic that ever beat Socrates), as well as the typically-non-philosophical principle of materialism.

Materialism, though many of its proponents would claim it to be simply a scientific conclusion devoid of philosophical significance (or just that philosophy itself is devoid of significance), is a deeply philosophical belief. In essence, materialism is the idea that absolutely everything is caused by the interactions of physical bodies. Thoughts and ideas, therefore, are identifiable electrical impulses within a person's brain, and nothing more. Interestingly, Spinoza thought much the same thing, though he also named the summation of all material 'God' (which is where things got confusing).

Berkeley (whose name, unlike the city in California named after him, is pronounced as three syllables) took the exact opposite approach: instead of saying that there is no such thing as ideas, he said there was no such thing as physical bodies. Instead, everything we percieve as physical is simply a projection within the mind of the viewer. Berkeley's Famous Latin Catchphrase was "Esse est percipi" - To be is to be perceived (look at me, rockin' those four years of high-school latin). While we're on the subject, Berkeley's Three Dialogues between Hylas & Philonous is a rather good read, and one of the best philosophical dialogues, period.

So if monism refutes dualism, then what refutes monism? The reasons are always a little fuzzy, but for some reason most people feel innately more comfortable with dualism than with strict materialism (and I'll freely admit to being one of them). Dualism addresses an inherently qualitative nature of perception in a way materialism does not. Materialism can tell you what a bat perceives and how it behaves, but it can never tell you what it's like to be a bat.

As for the argument against Berkeley's ideas-only view, most people are even more skeptical of that than an all-material world. Samuel Johnson countered it quite eloquently by shouting "I refute it thus!," punctuating the 'thus' by delivering a hard kick to a heavy rock.

Next Time: Death, Dying, & Why you should Always Wear your Seatbelt
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The Ghosts of Departed Quantities

Berkeley is also notable for writing the scathing The Analyst: A DISCOURSE to an Infidel Mathematician (yes, the all-caps is in the original). In it, he attacked the principles of calculus in a way that was both highly sarcastic and essentially correct. Bishop Berkeley believed the new math tended towards deism and away from the Catholic faith, and while that much is debatable, the flaws he pointed out in it were actually fairly sound. Partly because of such criticisms, calculus is now strictly defined in terms of limits, much to the chagrin of high school math students. Thanks a lot, Berk.