Friday, August 30, 2019

Gage on Five Proofs

I’ve been getting some strange book reviews lately.  First up is Logan Paul Gage’s review of my book Five Proofs of the Existence of God in the latest issue of Philosophia Christi.  Gage says some very complimentary things about the book, for which I thank him.  He also raises a couple of important points of criticism, for which I also thank him.  But he says some odd and false things too. 

Let’s take these in order.  Gage writes that Five Proofs is “an incredibly useful book,” that “Feser is to be commended for interacting with a wide swath of historical and contemporary literature,” and that my main arguments are “thorough enough for philosophers while remaining accessible to a general audience – a true accomplishment.”   He judges that:

[T]he major arguments are incredibly well-executed and likely sound.  The first five chapters will be profitable for undergraduates for years to come.  They are suitable for use in the classroom, especially for elucidating difficult primary texts.  They will introduce students not only to the arguments (and their attendant metaphysics) but also let them see how traditional natural theology entails a number of important divine attributes – something sadly missing from much contemporary apologetics.

End quote.  Again, I thank Gage for his very kind words. 

Some useful points of criticism

Let’s turn to Gage’s useful points of criticism.  For one thing, Gage wonders whether my arguments might be too dependent on specifically Aristotelian-Thomistic (A-T) metaphysical premises.  He doesn’t claim that these premises are false or implausible, but merely worries that they might make my arguments less attractive to some readers, and that they require a deeper defense than I provide in the book.

In response I would say the following.  First, the extent to which my arguments depend on A-T premises varies from argument to argument.  For example, the Aristotelian proof is obviously more dependent on them than the rationalist proof is.  Moreover, sometimes it is not the argument itself that presupposes A-T metaphysical premises, but rather some particular reply to a criticism of the argument that does so.  This might seem a pedantic and irrelevant distinction, but it is not.

Hence, suppose that some reader is initially convinced by an argument from contingency that appeals to the Principle of Sufficient Reason (PSR) but makes no reference to any specifically A-T premises.  Suppose the reader is then presented with various objections to the argument, such as the suggestion that it is the world itself rather than God that is the necessary being, or such as a challenge to PSR.  An A-T philosopher might reply to such objections in a way other philosophers would not.  For example, he might say that the world cannot be a necessary being because it is a compound of actuality and potentiality rather than pure actuality.  Or he might defend PSR by reference to the Scholastic idea that truth is convertible with being, so that whatever has being must be intelligible.  Now, if the reader in question rejects A-T philosophy and thus rejects these particular responses to the criticisms in question, it doesn’t follow that he will have to reject the argument from contingency.  For he might still find some other responses to the criticisms to be adequate.

All the same, it has long been my own view that at least some specifically A-T metaphysical premises are, ultimately, crucial to getting things right in natural theology.  For example, I think that the theory of actuality and potentiality is crucial.  But then, I think the theory of actuality and potentiality is, ultimately, crucial to getting things right in philosophy in general, not just in natural theology.  So, I would acknowledge that, at the end of the day, my view is that the natural theologian should defend such specifically A-T premises.  But I don’t see that as a problem.  If something is both true and highly consequential, as I think the theory of actuality and potentiality is, then there’s no point in fretting that it will be a tough sell with many people.  It needs to be defended, so defend it. 

Indeed, as I have complained before, a general problem with too much apologetics is that it is excessively concerned with what will “sell” rather than with what is true.  My view is that, just as a matter of principle, a serious apologist should focus on the latter rather than the former.  And it turns out that if you do that, and do it well, the former will take care of itself.

Gage is also right to say that more could be said in defense of the A-T premises I appeal to than I say in Five Proofs.  That was inevitable given that the book is about natural theology rather than general metaphysics, and given that, in philosophy, no matter what and how much you say, there is always going to be someone somewhere who retorts “Well, sure, but what about…”  Of making books there is no end.  But as it happens (and as Gage acknowledges) I have in fact defended the relevant general A-T premises in greater depth elsewhere, such as in my book Scholastic Metaphysics.

A second important point of criticism raised by Gage is that it isn’t clear, in his view, that all of my arguments are really independent of one another.  In particular, he worries that the four proofs that reason from the world to God as cause of the world – the Aristotelian proof, the Neo-Platonic proof, the Thomistic proof, and the rationalist proof – are really just variations on an argument from contingency rather than separate standalone arguments.  For example, he wonders whether the Aristotelian proof is really at the end of the day an argument from change, since the way I spell that argument out, it shifts from the question of why things change to why they exist at any given moment.

In response, I would say the following.  First, though the “many paths up the mountain” analogy is often abused in theological contexts (when deployed in defense of a facile universalism), it is useful in understanding the relationship between causal proofs of God’s existence.  When you get to the top of a mountain, it looks pretty much the same, whatever direction you are approaching it from.  But the north side of the bottom of the mountain might nevertheless look very different from the south side, so that the mountain will seem very different to climbers beginning from the north side and climbers beginning from the south.

In the same way, the notions of what is purely actual, what is absolutely simple, what is subsistent existence itself, and what is absolutely necessary are all at the end of the day (I would argue) different ways of conceptualizing what is and must be the same one reality.  Hence the closer you get to the conclusion of a causal argument for God’s existence, the more the argument is going to seem similar to other causal arguments.  Nevertheless, the starting points – the fact that things in our experience change, the fact that they are composite, the fact that they are caused, the fact that they are contingent – are going to be very different. 

Now, this is important in a way that is also elucidated by the mountain analogy.  Some climbers who may be unable or unwilling to begin their ascent from one side of the mountain (because it is too rocky for them, say) may be able to begin it from some other side.  Similarly, some readers may initially find the notions of contingency or of PSR problematic and thus be put off by the rationalist proof, but find intuitively plausible the notion of change as the actualization of potential, and thus find the Aristotelian proof attractive.  At the end of the day, I think readers should find all of these things plausible when they are rightly understood, but given the place some particular reader is coming from philosophically, he might have a different “break in” point from other readers.  So even if the proofs converge, it is intellectually helpful to see that there are different conceptual avenues by which the idea of a divine first cause might be arrived at.

Having said that, I also think that the extent to which the proofs converge can be overstated.  As my remarks above indicate, I think that one can go a long way in an argument from PSR before one has to get into any distinctively Aristotelian notions like the actualization of potential.  And I think one can go a long way in an Aristotelian proof before one has to say anything that sounds distinctively “rationalist.”  In these two cases, it is arguably only when one has to get into the question of how various objections might be replied to that defenders of the arguments might end up saying some of the same things.

In the case of the Aristotelian proof, it is true that I make a transition from the question of why things change to the question of why they exist at any given moment, and that it is the latter question that I am ultimately more interested in.   This makes my presentation of this sort of argument different from Aristotle’s or Aquinas’s presentation.  (That’s one reason I call it an “Aristotelian proof” rather than “Aristotle’s proof.”)  But there is a reason why I begin with change, which is that the notions of actuality and potentiality are much easier to grasp initially when one applies them to an analysis of change over time than when one applies them to an analysis of existence at a time.  The latter notion is for many readers too abstract to jump to immediately.  So, starting with change provides a useful “ladder” that may be kicked away once one understands the general concepts and sees that they have a more general application than just to the analysis of change.

Anyway, I agree with Gage that other interpretations of the arguments I defend are possible, and that it would be regrettable if those other interpretations were neglected.  And again, I thank him for these remarks, to which I have responded at some length precisely because the issues he raises are important.

Seeing things that aren’t there

Let’s turn now to (what I judge to be) the odd and unhelpful things Gage has to say.  Gage accuses the book of “some exasperating flaws.”  Like what?  First of all, he claims that the book includes “some of Feser’s favorite hobbyhorses.”  Like what?  Gage writes:

Conspicuously absent from the first five chapters are Feser’s constant refrains: how impressive traditional theistic arguments are for being deductive metaphysical demonstrations rather than probabilistic or scientific arguments (in which he fails to recognize the power of inductive and abductive arguments), tangents about how foolish William Paley and intelligent design are (with uncharitable misreadings of these potential allies), and his blog-style ranting and braggadocio – often against weak targets like the worst of the New Atheists.  But they all return by the book’s end (271-273, 287-289, 249-260), leaving a bitter aftertaste to a largely excellent book.  The whole thing concludes with an unhelpful and supercilious “Quod erat demonstrandum” (307).

End quote.  Now, I fail to see what the big deal is about ending the book with Quod erat demonstrandum” – especially given that Gage himself says he regards my main arguments as “incredibly well-executed and likely sound” – but let that pass.  The rest of this is just silly and false. 

First of all, it simply isn’t true that the book describes Paley or Intelligent Design as “foolish.”  I mention Paley in exactly two places in the book, at pp. 287-88 and at p. 303.  In the first place, I merely note that the arguments I am defending are in several ways different from Paley’s design argument.  In the second place, I merely cite Paley in a long list of philosophers who have defending theistic arguments.  I also mention Intelligent Design theory in exactly two places in the book, at p. 254 and at pp. 287-88.  In the first place, I merely note that atheists who raise a certain sort of objection against first cause arguments would complain if a parallel objection were raised against evolution by ID theorists.  In the second place, I merely note that the arguments I am defending differ in several ways from the arguments of ID theorists.  I mention inductive or probabilistic arguments for God’s existence at exactly two places, at pp. 287-88 and at p. 306.  In both cases I merely note that the arguments I am defending are not of the inductive or probabilistic kind, but rather are attempts at demonstration.

Nowhere in the book do I say that Paley, or ID theory, or probabilistic arguments are “foolish.”  Indeed, I do not even say in the book that they are wrong.  Again, I merely note that they are different from the sorts of arguments I defend in the book.  That’s it.

It’s not mysterious what is going on here, though.  For I have, in other writings, been very critical of Paley and of Intelligent Design theory.  I have also, in other writings, made it clear that I much prefer demonstrations to probabilistic arguments where natural theology is concerned (though I have also explicitly said that I do not claim that probabilistic arguments for God’s existence are per se objectionable). 

Now, Gage is a big defender of Paley, ID, and probabilistic arguments for God, and he and I have tangled over these very issues in the past.  Evidently, this past experience has colored Gage’s perceptions of what he has read in Five Proofs.  He is apparently so sensitive about criticisms of Paley, ID, and probabilistic theistic arguments that he cannot bear even my distinguishing A-T arguments from those sorts of arguments.  All he needs is to see that the words “Paley” or “Intelligent Design” or “probabilistic” appear in something I have written, and he is triggered.  He instantly takes my remarks in Five Proofs to be criticisms of these things, even though when read dispassionately it is clear that they are not.  So, while there is definitely some “hobbyhorse” riding going on, it is all on Gage’s part, not mine. 

Something similar can be said about Gage’s claim that Five Proofs contains “blog-style ranting and braggadocio.”  The astute reader will have noted that Gage offers no examples of this purported ranting and braggadocio – and he couldn’t have, because in fact there isn’t any such thing to be found in Five Proofs.  That is deliberate, because I judged that a polemical style was not appropriate given the aims of this particular book.

What is true is that in other writings, I have sometimes (though in fact only relatively rarely) written in a highly polemical style.  For example, of the twelve books I have written, co-written, or edited, there is exactly oneThe Last Superstition – that is written in that style.  And occasionally I will write an article, book review, or blog post in that style – typically when responding to some other writer who was himself highly polemical. 

I have in other places defended the appropriateness of this approach under certain circumstances.  The point for present purposes is this.  I have found over the years that certain souls seem to be so gentle and sensitive that they just can’t bear this sort of thing even when it is appropriate.  My occasionally polemical style makes such a deep impression on them that they simply can’t help but perceive everything I write as “blog-style ranting and braggadocio.”  This is especially true when my past targets have included some of their own sacred cows. 

It seems that something like this is going on with Gage.  My past polemical writings, perhaps especially those in which I have criticized ID, have colored his perceptions.  Hence though the arguments and objections I present in Five Proofs are measured in tone, he reads into them a “blog-style ranting and braggadocio” that isn’t there.

Some odd and unhelpful criticisms

The really strange remarks Gage makes, though, are about the last two chapters of my book – chapter 6, which treats the divine attributes and God’s relationship to the world, and chapter 7, which is a general treatment of objections to natural theology. 

What annoys him about chapter 6 is that there is some repetition of material from earlier chapters, since after presenting each of my five theistic arguments in the earlier chapters, I say something about how the divine attributes can be derived.  Gage thinks that I should either have said nothing about the divine attributes in chapters 1-5 and saved the entire discussion for chapter 6, or that I should have moved all the material from chapter 6 into the earlier chapters.

It never seems to have occurred to Gage that I had a reason for organizing things the way I did – several reasons, in fact.  Here are some of the relevant considerations.  First, one of the objections routinely raised against arguments for God’s existence is that even if they get you to a first cause, no one has ever shown that they get you to a cause that is unique, omnipotent, omniscient, etc.  There is, it is claimed, always a big jump from the idea of a first cause to the divine attributes.  Now, as I show in Five Proofs and elsewhere, that is simply not at all the case.  Aristotle, Aquinas, Leibniz, and other defenders of proofs for God’s existence in fact routinely provide a wealth of argumentation for the divine attributes.  But, as with the tiresome and clueless “What caused God?” objection, people keep reflexively raising this objection no matter how many times you refute it.

Consider also that many readers will only bother reading a chapter or two from a book like mine before drawing general conclusions about it.  Hence if they read the chapter on the Aristotelian proof but do not see in it any treatment of the divine attributes, they will judge that I have overlooked the obvious objection that to prove the existence of a purely actual actualizer is not to prove that such an actualizer is unique, omnipotent, omniscient, etc.  And they will conclude that it isn’t worth their time to read any further.  This is silly, of course, and not the way an academic philosopher like Gage or me would proceed.  But it is the way a lot of people read and judge books.

Consider too that there are certain divine attributes the derivation of which is more clear and natural when one begins with a particular theistic proof than it is when one begins with some other such proof.  For example, when you deploy the Aristotelian proof to establish the existence of a purely actual actualizer, it is quite natural to move on immediately to argue for the immutability, omnipotence, and perfection of the purely actual actualizer.  The reason is that the theory of actuality and potentiality provides analyses of change, causal power, and perfection that can be quite naturally “plugged in” to the argument to yield a derivation of these particular divine attributes.  The derivation of the attributes isn’t some arbitrary “add on” to the proof of the unactualized actualizer, but follows quite naturally and directly from it.  But the same attributes are less directly or obviously derivable from, say, the notion of the necessary being that is arrived at via the rationalist proof.

So, given considerations like these, I judged that the best way to proceed would be to say something in each of the first five chapters about how the derivation of a purely actual actualizer, an absolutely simple cause, an infinite intellect, a cause which is subsistent existence itself, and an absolutely necessary being, could naturally be extended to a derivation of some of the key divine attributes.  The aim was to show that getting to the divine attributes is an organic part of the style of reasoning that each of the arguments deploys, and not something either neglected or arbitrarily tacked on.

At the same time, I couldn’t say everything that needed to be said about the divine attributes in each of the first five chapters, or even in any one of them, because the chapters would in that case have become ridiculously long.  For example, if I had placed the material on the divine attributes from chapter 6 into chapter 1, which is devoted to the Aristotelian proof, then chapter 1 would have been about 120 pages long.  It would also have ended up dealing with matters that are not unique to the Aristotelian proof, but are relevant to all the proofs.

Hence I judged that the better way to proceed was to give a cursory treatment of the divine attributes in chapters 1-5, and then return to a much more in-depth treatment in chapter 6.  This entailed a bit of repetition, but as every good teacher knows, a bit of repetition is not necessarily a bad thing, especially when giving an exposition of material that is difficult and unfamiliar.  And the arguments for the divine attributes are – as Gage himself acknowledges – very unfamiliar to many people interested in the topic of arguments for God’s existence.

So, though of course a reasonable person might disagree with my judgment, there were reasons for it that Gage does not consider.  The way the book handles the divine attributes was deliberate, and not, contrary to what he suggests, a failure on the part of some editor.  Gage seems to be the sort of reviewer who complains that a book is not carefully tailored to his personal needs and interests, specifically – not keeping in mind that any book has to consider the needs, interests, attention spans, prejudices, etc. of many kinds of readers all at once.  And of course, no book can do so perfectly, so that an author must make a judgment call.  Anyway, as far as I can recall, Gage is the only commenter on the book who has complained about there being a bit of repetition on the topic of the divine attributes.  Evidently, most readers were not troubled by it.

Gage also complains that chapter 6 includes a “digression on analogy,” a “misconstrual of the standard account of knowledge,” a “facile discussion of God’s knowledge and free will,” and a “defense of using male pronouns for God.”  He says that this material only “serves to try the reader’s patience.”

But once again, Gage seems to be confusing his personal needs and interests with those of readers in general.  He doesn’t tell us exactly what is wrong with what I say about knowledge or free will, so I don’t have anything to say in response to his remarks about those topics.  As far as my treatment of analogy is concerned, it is by no means a “digression,” but integral to the chapter.  I made it clear in the book why (for Thomists, anyway) the notion of analogy is crucial to a proper understanding of the divine attributes. 

Regarding the use of male pronouns for God, I have no idea why Gage would find it objectionable that I should address that issue.  As I imagine everyone knows who has ever taught a course on religion or philosophy of religion, it is a question that comes up all the time among students, and general readers are no less interested in it.  Furthermore, such language is crucial in certain theological contexts (e.g. when the first two Persons of the Trinity are referred to as the “Father” and the “Son”).  If Gage wants to disagree with the specific claims I made on this topic, that’s fine.  But to object to the very fact that I addressed the issue at all is silly, indeed bizarre.

Finally, Gage is similarly unhappy with my last chapter, wherein I deal with a wide variety of general objections to arguments for God’s existence.  He complains, for example, that I respond to “weak targets like the worst of the New Atheists.”  But why is this a problem?  For one thing, I also respond, in the last chapter and throughout the book, to the more serious critics.  It’s not as if I reply only to the New Atheists.  For another, what was I supposed to do – ignore the objections raised by the New Atheists?  Gage and I realize that their objections are no good, but lots of other readers don’t realize this, and many of those other readers will be unfamiliar with what I have said in reply to the New Atheists in other books of mine, such as The Last Superstition.  Moreover, their objections, however feeble, are very influential.  So, I had no choice but to address their objections, alongside the more serious objections.  Yet again, Gage seems guilty of judging the book in terms of his personal needs and interests, rather than those of the bulk of the book’s readership.

But as I have said, Gage also makes some important and helpful points of criticism, and has some very kind things to say about my book.  And even where I think his remarks are unreasonable, I appreciate his attempt to grapple seriously with what I have written.  So, again, I thank him.


  1. Do you plan to plan to respond to him in Philosophia Christi, too?

    1. Probably not. I don't really have anything to add to what I said above.

  2. The biggest problem many reviewers have is that they love to forget that this books wasn´t targeted at an primarily academic audience

    1. Actually, it's aimed equally at both audiences at the same time -- both professional philosophers, and laymen willing to do a bit of work. While the book is actually readable rather than being freighted with needless logical symbolism or wooden prose, it's hardly a pop book. What too many contemporary academic philosophers forget is that it is possible, and desirable, to reach both audiences at once, as some philosophers of the past (e.g. Russell) tried to do and as some contemporary philosophers (e.g. Searle) still try to do. Too many people fall into this trap of thinking either "Oh, it's actually readable. It must be a mere popularization," or "Oh, it's got a lot of academic citations in it and gets into all this technical stuff about causation, substance and essence, properties, etc. It must be meant only for academics." It's not an either/or.

    2. I agree. Dr. Feser’s writing style is as simple and commonsensical as possible without losing the substance of the concepts. I think part of it is because A-T metaphysics is very common sense oriented. However, even still, Feser’s writing style is easy to follow. The only thing I would like to see from Dr. Feser (especially on metaphysics) is perhaps more concrete exercises and examples for the general concepts (of course this is better for a blog than a book, because books have word count requirements). For example, is a rock a substance or an aggregate? What about a dirt clod? I think working out these uncontroversial but very difficult metaphysical questions could be a huge benefit to your blog readers.

      Maybe even you could give a semi- open forum where you ask us to answer / debate 20 questions of the sort mentioned above (are viruses alive, etc.) and ask that people argue from an A-T perspective only. Then we could have a good old fashioned Scholastic Disputatio. Then Dr. Feser could give a blog post if his answers a few weeks later.

      But asking Dr. Feser to write more could hardly be a criticism OF his writing.

    3. Of course the relevance of the above comment being, no matter how clear a writer is, people learn most readily by abstracting from particulars. Some people need a plethora of particulars to truly grasp the concept. And I find the more the merrier, as they say.

  3. Odds are any non-academic audience member who is interested enough to read this book in good faith won't be impressed with the New Atheist arguments. I was dissatisfied with amount of material on New Atheists too but to give Ed credit he deals with a lot more serious criticisms i.e. Grimm's omnipotence paradox, in the chapters on the individual arguments. He has also engaged more important critics like Graham Oppy elsewhere (hope the transcript of that debate will appear in print).

    1. It's not just a question of academics vs. non-academics. Lots of people who are not philosophers but who are still academics or intellectuals of another stripe parrot dumb objections like the ones raised by the New Atheists. I hear it all the time. And even many philosophers who do not specialize in philosophy of religion will raise those sorts of objections.

      I'm not sure why some people here seem to think that it is only ill-read bumpkins posting comments on Facebook who think "What caused God?" and the like are serious objection, and thus get annoyed when I still address that sort of stuff in books. I've had very, very smart people with Ph.D's glibly fling those sorts of clueless remarks at me in conversation over the years, as if they were devastating conversation-stoppers which no one ever thought of before.

      I think what happens is that people who have been reading this blog for years and are by now inoculated against silliness like that, who only ever encounter it in comboxes, and who are used to reading more serious material, unconsciously assume that everyone else is as "caught up" as they are. So when they read Five Proofs and see that I respond there once again to "What caused God?" and the other dumb objections alongside the more serious objections, they think that I am wasting time or bouncing the rubble or whatever.

      What they don't realize is that there are lots of people who have never read any book or article of mine before they read Five Proofs, and indeed have never read any serious book on arguments for God's existence before they read Five Proofs, and for whom the stuff I say about the New Atheists (who are really just parroting objections that have been around long before Dawkins and Co. came around) is a revelation.

      Keep in mind that my books are not aimed only at people who read this blog or who have already read my other stuff.

    2. I personally thought the historical exegesis of the “What Caused God?” argument was worth the price of the book alone. I think more philosophers should trace the history of bad objections with that sort of precision, because it shows how small errors and misunderstandings in premises can lead to ridiculous conclusions.

    3. As a non academic, I find Ed's books well worth the read, even though I have not been able to completely read the entire book (I have seven kids), I was able to read, and reread the first argument, and have enough of an understanding, based on the arguments in Aquinas and in Scholastic metaphisics, to be able to defend it.

      God bless,

  4. Re: "Indeed, as I have complained before, a general problem with too much apologetics is that it is excessively concerned with what will “sell” rather than with what is true. My view is that, just as a matter of principle, a serious apologist should focus on the latter rather than the former. And it turns out that if you do that, and do it well, the former will take care of itself."

    Yes, this is always an important reminder. Thank you for this thought.

    1. I agree. It is ALWAYS a sufficient answer to "but will it sell" to say "it's true" and that alone is enough to justify giving the argument. IT is a bonus when lots of people rather than just a few people believe it, but it is better that a few people believe the truth because of a valid argument for the truth, and let the masses come along through some other argument. Apologetics, for example uses many different approaches to the truth precisely because some people are better approached through X argument and some through Y argument. Nothing wrong with using X.

      At the same time, I find it highly suspect when people claim "but it won't sell". I suspect it because it seems to be based on one of two possible assumptions: either (a) the argument itself is a bad one, or (b) people are ill-disposed and will reject a good argument. Of course, if the argument REALLY IS a bad argument, then they should be complaining about the argument itself, not whether it will succeed in persuading. If (b) is the problem, then the problem lies in bad will, and the answer is in prayer and grace, but grace also works through natural causes, like hearing a good argument. So, pray AND make the good argument, it isn't a reason to NOT make a good argument.

    2. To many people think that the defense of theism/Christianity requires a kind of mild, sheepish, docility. Those traits could be useful in some contexts, but I think they are counterproductive when talking to sneering, boorish, and ignorant people who are not engaging a discussion in good faith but just want to stroke their unfounded feelings of superiority.

  5. Hello, first visit here, so starting from scratch.

    I'd be very interested to know if your analysis takes in to account that the vast majority of reality, space, does not fall neatly in to either the "exists" or "doesn't exist" categories.

    I'm not debating the "does God exist" question here, but instead wondering whether the simplistic dualistic "exists or not" paradigm at the heart of the God debate bears enough resemblance to reality to be meaningful and useful.

    Not challenging any of the competing answers, challenging the question.



    1. Phil if you have in mind different status of physical and abstract objects like universals or thoughts then the classical theist would answer that they still would need to exist in the way which falls under the category argued for. The existence is what distinguishes them from illogical concepts like a squared circle which can´t exist in either category

    2. Hi Dominik, thanks for your reply.

      I have in mind that space can not be clearly said to either exist or not exist, so I'm wondering why everyone on all sides of the God debate assumes a God must exist or not, one or the other.

      That seems a very persistent and insistent assumption shared by all, which thus merits some examination.

    3. Oh dear, the comment technology here is so primitive that I doubt I have the patience to deal with it. Apologies!

    4. @Phil Tanny

      Hello Phil,
      I guess I am a bit confused. From a first principles, Logic point-of-view, we are dealing with the Law of the Excluded Middle. We have a binary condition, here. Either space (or space, time, space-time, etc.) exist, or it doesn't exist. There is not a third "state" of being.

    5. Adding to that Plantingas modal ontological argument. Either God is a coherent concept which means that he exists possibly, therefor he exists actually. That part is completely uncontroversial. Or the concept is incoherent to begin with.

    6. Also I don´t see "space" as having any different status to other abstract concepts

    7. I'm not debating the "does God exist" question here, but instead wondering whether the simplistic dualistic "exists or not" paradigm at the heart of the God debate bears enough resemblance to reality to be meaningful and useful.

      Not challenging any of the competing answers, challenging the question.

      Aristotle (the original aristotelian) provided for explanations of "things" that sort of exist but don't exist simply speaking and yet are not non-existent simply speaking. So it is not at all foreign to the mindset of Aristotelians to suggest that something is neither an "existent" simply nor "non-existent" simply.

      But it hardly helps matters for God. One can easily posit that as long as you are willing to accept the proposition that God is not non-existent simply, i.e. that there is some sense for which he "exists" somehow or other, it is enough for a start.

      In fact, the Thomist urges that it is NOT true that "God exists" in the same sense that I exist or Ed exists; the "exists" for God is quite different indeed. So much so, that we can't say "God has existence". However, it's not because God inhabits some zone kind of in-between "exists" and "not-exists", rather he inhabits a zone that goes beyond merely "exists" into some other range.

  6. All successful arguments for God are variations on the theme that all the beings that we encounter are metaphysically composite and thus cannot be metaphysically ultimate, and a metaphysically ultimate being must exist to explain the existence of (meaning, provide the metaphysical ground for) metaphysically secondary beings.

    Any argument that doesn't go there can and will be refuted, for any challenge to "explain this!" (metaphysically speaking) can be met by appealing to the nature of an existing metaphysically composite entity. (For instance, the First Way can be refuted by simply saying that it is the nature of fire to heat, and thus the chain of movers ends there; the fire hasn't been moved from "potentially heating" to "actually heating", as something being in the fire is a Cambridge change as far as the fire is concerned and not an intrinsic change to the fire.)

    If instead, the demand is made for a contrastive explanation for contingent facts, the opponent will simply reply that the theist can also not provide a contrastive explanation for everything without ending in modal collapse.

  7. I read the book, Ed, and encountered none of the difficulties that seem to plague Mr. Gage. I didn't need it to convince me that God exists, but to hone my thinking. It's good armament to bring to the battle, and even to the evangelistic enterprise.

  8. Good comments Ed.
    Grateful to God (Omer)

  9. Hi I’m reading the 5 proofs and I have stumbled upon something that I don’t understand about this formulation of the Aristotelian proof: howcome is it justified to say that at any moment there has to be an actualizer that actualises the potential for something to simply exist? For example you start from the case in which the coffee mug is actually hot and potentially cold. Fine, the cold air actualizes the potential for the coffee mug to cool down. How does this justify the leap to say that there has to be a constant agent that actualizes the coffee mug’s coming into being alltogether, it’s existence? You say that there has to be at any given moment an agent that actualizes the potential for it to exist. How can something have potential to exist if it already actually exists? The coffee mug already exists, and it’s coming into being shoould be considered as a past event, right?. Shouldn’t the argument based on potency and act regard change and not existence? The step I’m struggling with is number seven on the list of the summary: “the existence of S at any given moment itself presupposes the concurrent actualisation of S’s potential to exist”. It seems like one is jumping from an argument based on change to one based on existence. What’s relevant all of a sudden is not the actualisation of the potential to change but the actualisation of the potential to be in the first place. Why does this entail a concurrent actualisation? Isn’t the actuslisation of S independent of the actualisation of S’s potential to change? I’m not sure if I expressed my question correctly but it would be great to have an answer. Thank you and best wishes

  10. “8: So, any substance S has at any moment some actualizer A of its existence” seems hard to comprehend to me ( Aristotelian proof). Does this count only for the substance that is changing or for any substance in general, even one that is “static”? I don’t understand how it follows that things are constantly being caused.This formulation doesn’t seem to fit with the first way of st Thomas. Thanks and best wishes

  11. Please explain steps 6-8 of the Aristotelian proof further I don’t understand why change as actualisation of potential entails that any substance must be constantly caused to be at any given moment. Thanks

  12. I'm struggling with Dr. Feser's proofs as well. I would love to be convinced, but I just don't get how an 'unmoved, immutable mover', 'or 'purely actual actualizer' lacking any potential whatsoever can 'will the universe into existence'. Before the universe existed didn't the 'purely actual actualizer' have the *potential to create the universe*- and thereby require a cause? And indeed, how can an immutable being do anything at all (never mind intervene in the world, perform miracles, listen to/answer prayers, condemn sinners to hell, etc.). Any clarification of these points by Dr. Feser or those who understand his argument would be most appreciated!

  13. Any replies to the fundamental concerns expressed by YF's post above about Dr. Feser's proofs? It's been 6 this blog still active? Thanks in advance!

    1. I'm only just now getting into the Aristotelian Proof of Dr. Feser and it seems like YF's question of potential on the part of the 'purely actual actualizer' is misplaced. I would surmise it's not the 'immovable mover' who had potential to create the universe, and thus requiring a cause, but the empty space that the creator resided in that had the potential to become the universe. This is consistent with this being as an actualizer. I will undoubtedly continue to keep reading, researching and studying these proofs.