I was entertaining the thought of being an atheist metaphysician, and this is how it went. It occurred to me how complex the physical world has proven to be. Both common sense and science seem to have proven to us all our lives that the universe, before our impact, is absurdly complex, yet equally structured. It is this structured complexity that interests me. The entirety of physics, especially through the efforts of Newton, Einstein, Bohr and others, has revealed itself to us as infinitely impressive in both size and structure. Scientists have no choice but to marvel at the beauty of the thing they study. “How beautiful,” they might say, “this thing with which we humans have no choice but to be in contact!” But is the scientist’s exclamation of “Behold!” not also a testament to the beauty of the human reason which uncovers the physical world to itself. Where theologians of old have proclaimed the necessity of a “perfect reason” which would hold a perfect relationship to all that which can be known by such a reason (i.e. an omniscient God), it seems to me sufficient to observe that the very human reasoning which beholds the depth of the physical world itself is equally complex. For if it is necessary to posit a knower of the world, then it is necessary to posit a knower only equal in ‘perfection’ to the physical world. If perfection is measured by complexity, then it seems as if human reason by itself is sufficient for the claim of such a metaphysical realist. With no need of a God to posit, perhaps we may get away with positing merely this equality in ‘perfection’ between the physical world and human reason.
We assume, as stated previously, that to prove this equality in perfection between two systems is to prove the equality of the complexity of the two systems. There is at least one piece of evidence for the equality of complexity between human knower and physical world. The complexity of the world only reveals itself to us at the maximum complexity with which we can observe it. In other words, the scientists can only theorize about a world as complex as their faculty of reasoning allows them to. The bounds of this power of reason provide the boundary of the world that we observe. But there is a problem with this simple equation of complexity. The world that we observe is more complex than the science that describes it. If it were not, then one would think that we would be able to predict all events that admit the possibility of prediction. Science has certainly not achieved this goal yet. But the “yet” is important. There seems to be a potential in science to at least come close to such a complexity.
However, even if this potential, epistemic form of complexity is not as great as that of the universe itself (or at least the physical, experiential data we have of it), we would still have one other form of complexity to add to the total complexity of human reason: the very act of reasoning is complex. Epistemologists and AI programmers will all admit that the more we study the very act of reasoning, the more complex it seems to be. Here we find that our reason does seem to have a depth equal to the physical world in both complexity and mystery. Kant himself, according to myth, wanted his gravestone to read only “The starry skies above and the moral law within,” because these were the only things by which he found himself awed. If Kant is right, then we need not posit any being besides the world and the thinker (I and my peers). But then, I thought, why stop there? Why should we even posit anything besides the world?
So why is it that metaphysicians seem to believe that we must posit such metaphysical entities as ourselves (souls, as some people call them)? We have already seen how human reason is similar to the physical world; if human reason really does describe a separate entity from the physical world, then we must look for the difference between human reason and the physical world. The easiest way to do this is to attempt to recreate human reason. Let us say that we build a computer which is recognizably intelligent. This computer would have to have a set of algorithms which describe its reasoning processes, and it is likely that these algorithms would approach infinite complexity (so, for the sake of the thought experiment, we will leave aside whether building such a computer is possible at all). It is easy to imagine that a computer could perfectly replicate the actions of a house-fly, for example, because a house-fly clearly has no reasoning, and we would say that its actions are determined by its instincts (similarly to the way a computer's actions are determined by the way it is programmed). The question of whether a computer could imitate a human being perfectly comes down to whether our actions are determined or not. If they are completely determined by whatever it is about human beings that determines us, then the difference between us and the house-fly is trivial. And if we can imagine ourselves programming a computer to be a house-fly, then we can imagine ourselves programming a computer to be a person. Therefore, either there exists only a physical world, and the complexity of human reason really just comes down to the complexity of the human brain; or there exists both a physical world and a set of beings whose actions are not determined within this physical world. In other words, either there is the world alone, or there is the world and the knower of the world. Thus, we see that the question of whether human beings are metaphysical entities comes down to the question of whether human beings are free (physically undetermined) or unfree (physically determined). Unfortunately, the facts given to us by the world do not seem to determine an answer to this question: arguments can be constructed which make human freedom just as likely to be true as complete determinism. Kant had a thought similar to this one also: he thought that the free-will/determinism debate was an antinomy of pure reason, or an unsolvable puzzle. He presented what he thought to be irrefutable arguments supporting both sides, thereby concluding that reason cannot answer the question. We do not have the space to argue this point here, however, so, for the time being, we will assume determinism to be a thesis equal in epistemological strength to human freedom.
So which thesis do we posit? Let us first posit determinism. If the universe is completely determined (ourselves included), but there is no evidence to determine whether we believe ourselves to be determined or free, then we must make a choice as to whether we believe ourselves determined or free. Because this belief is insufficiently supported by fact, it must either be irresponsible or undetermined. Assuming that there exist epistemologically responsible persons who have an opinion on this thesis, a free choice must be made. Therefore, we are free. This is contradiction, so let us see what happens when we posit freedom. If we are free, then in any decision we make, we are determined to make a decision, as Jean-Paul Sartre observed in Being and Nothingness. We are not free to be free. If our freedom is determined, then it becomes difficult to locate that freedom in the first place. Freedom begins to look arbitrary, and arbitrarity is a form of determinism. Thus, we are not free. We have, then, an apparent paradox on our hands: if we are free, then we are not free; if we are not free, then we are free. Though this problem of freedom has some features of a paradox, the arguments above are sketchy and loose, so it may not be a paradox afterall. In any case, though, the problem of freedom can be seen as an unsolvable problem (and this will have to remain an assumption).
Metaphysically speaking, what is at stake in the question of human freedom is the question of whether we form a separate class of entities from the physical world. We have also seen how the structure of human freedom (viz. human reason) is similar in complexity to the structure of the physical world. These two notions taken together would entail that there are two classes of beings: beings of the physical world, and beings which make rational choices within the physical world. But must we call this second class of beings (human beings) a metaphysical class? The only reason we would have to do this is if we cannot classify them as material. So if I want to be a materialist, I can either prove that everything in the world adheres to my definition of materialism, or I can define “material” as everything in the world. Such a redefinition would only make sense if there is real similarity between one’s designated classes of material. If we claim, then, that the act of human reasoning is itself a material (similar to, say, Leibnizian monads), then the similarity is easy to show. Let us use B-matter (short for Being-matter) to describe physical matter, and F-matter (short for Freedom-matter) to describe “rational” matter. B-matter consists of all the protons, electrons, bodies, houses, mountains, planets and stars; while F-matter consists of all different types of rational processes exclusive to free rational beings. The F-matter that exists is, precisely, all the human beings who exist and all the choices that these human beings actually make. Similarly, the B-matter that exists is all the stars and planets that have actually come into existence, rather than the set of possible objects. The B-matter that exists is, literally, the matter that our experience tells us exists. One can imagine, then, a whole dimension of “free-willers” which can be measured based on what choices were made and what choices were not made. What I am trying to set up, here, is a parallel between being/non-being and free/un-free. The act of being which any physical object does points to its existence as B-matter, just as the act of choosing which any person does points to that person’s existence as F-matter. Just as a physical entity is comprised of the various electrons, protons, quarks, etc. from which it is built, so a rational entity is comprised of the various choices made in time, and the ways that these choices fit together in the system of human reasoning to form a whole person. Thus, when we say that everything is matter, but that there are two classes of matter, the claim is non-trivial. Pending the solution of the problem of freedom/determinism, it looks as if we can dissolve the divide between realists and non-realists about the human self.
Proponents of theism would note, here, that where there are at least two classes which bear a similarity to each other, these two classes themselves form a new class. Indeed, we have already named this class “matter” (and its constituents are B-matter and F-matter). It is quite apparent that the relationship between the two types of matter is what will inform our concept of the general class “material”. As a materialist, such a theist would have to observe that there exists nothing over and above the material itself, so the relationship between the two types of matter becomes terribly important. This relationship (vague as our description of it has been) is the only appropriate subject for the term “God”, should a materialist have any desire to posit a God. I do not claim to have proven God to exist, for I do not believe such a thing to be possible; rather, I have only provided the material space within which such a God can be named. But this concept is still too vague to be useful to any serious metaphysical thinker. What is important for the reader to take away from these metaphysical reflections is the notion that metaphysicians have been so interested in distinguishing the physical from the metaphysical that they have forgotten just how similar the two seem to be. The real question is, I think, if we can develop a science of human reason, do we acquire a science of metaphysics thereby? If the answer is “yes”, then we have been thinking about metaphysics in the wrong terms for a long time.
Surreal conjecture about a science of metaphysics aside, one may reasonably ask whether the inference I've made concerning materialism is philosophically trivial. It is important to keep in mind that I have only made a plausible inference based on inconclusive evidence. Essentially, our evidence is that there are at least two entities in human knowledge that we can be certain exist: the known and the knower. These two entities seem to bear a similar complexity to each other, which makes each adequate to the other, and does not necessitate a third entity. The inference is this: if there is a similarity in complexity such each is exactly the appropriate subject of the other, then there may also be a similarity in the nature of the two entities. Thus, our inference is non-trivial in one sense and trivial in another. It is non-trivial because thinking of human freedom as a fifth dimension and human knowers as material entities changes the ways we think about the self (e.g. that freedom no longer needs to be infinite and that it can be measured). It is trivial because one must still posit another realm of entities to augment the physical world. At the end of the day, most would still consider this metaphysical realm, but it seems to me a less abstruse (and thus, more plausible) metaphysics than is usually found.
-Priam's Pride
We assume, as stated previously, that to prove this equality in perfection between two systems is to prove the equality of the complexity of the two systems. There is at least one piece of evidence for the equality of complexity between human knower and physical world. The complexity of the world only reveals itself to us at the maximum complexity with which we can observe it. In other words, the scientists can only theorize about a world as complex as their faculty of reasoning allows them to. The bounds of this power of reason provide the boundary of the world that we observe. But there is a problem with this simple equation of complexity. The world that we observe is more complex than the science that describes it. If it were not, then one would think that we would be able to predict all events that admit the possibility of prediction. Science has certainly not achieved this goal yet. But the “yet” is important. There seems to be a potential in science to at least come close to such a complexity.
However, even if this potential, epistemic form of complexity is not as great as that of the universe itself (or at least the physical, experiential data we have of it), we would still have one other form of complexity to add to the total complexity of human reason: the very act of reasoning is complex. Epistemologists and AI programmers will all admit that the more we study the very act of reasoning, the more complex it seems to be. Here we find that our reason does seem to have a depth equal to the physical world in both complexity and mystery. Kant himself, according to myth, wanted his gravestone to read only “The starry skies above and the moral law within,” because these were the only things by which he found himself awed. If Kant is right, then we need not posit any being besides the world and the thinker (I and my peers). But then, I thought, why stop there? Why should we even posit anything besides the world?
So why is it that metaphysicians seem to believe that we must posit such metaphysical entities as ourselves (souls, as some people call them)? We have already seen how human reason is similar to the physical world; if human reason really does describe a separate entity from the physical world, then we must look for the difference between human reason and the physical world. The easiest way to do this is to attempt to recreate human reason. Let us say that we build a computer which is recognizably intelligent. This computer would have to have a set of algorithms which describe its reasoning processes, and it is likely that these algorithms would approach infinite complexity (so, for the sake of the thought experiment, we will leave aside whether building such a computer is possible at all). It is easy to imagine that a computer could perfectly replicate the actions of a house-fly, for example, because a house-fly clearly has no reasoning, and we would say that its actions are determined by its instincts (similarly to the way a computer's actions are determined by the way it is programmed). The question of whether a computer could imitate a human being perfectly comes down to whether our actions are determined or not. If they are completely determined by whatever it is about human beings that determines us, then the difference between us and the house-fly is trivial. And if we can imagine ourselves programming a computer to be a house-fly, then we can imagine ourselves programming a computer to be a person. Therefore, either there exists only a physical world, and the complexity of human reason really just comes down to the complexity of the human brain; or there exists both a physical world and a set of beings whose actions are not determined within this physical world. In other words, either there is the world alone, or there is the world and the knower of the world. Thus, we see that the question of whether human beings are metaphysical entities comes down to the question of whether human beings are free (physically undetermined) or unfree (physically determined). Unfortunately, the facts given to us by the world do not seem to determine an answer to this question: arguments can be constructed which make human freedom just as likely to be true as complete determinism. Kant had a thought similar to this one also: he thought that the free-will/determinism debate was an antinomy of pure reason, or an unsolvable puzzle. He presented what he thought to be irrefutable arguments supporting both sides, thereby concluding that reason cannot answer the question. We do not have the space to argue this point here, however, so, for the time being, we will assume determinism to be a thesis equal in epistemological strength to human freedom.
So which thesis do we posit? Let us first posit determinism. If the universe is completely determined (ourselves included), but there is no evidence to determine whether we believe ourselves to be determined or free, then we must make a choice as to whether we believe ourselves determined or free. Because this belief is insufficiently supported by fact, it must either be irresponsible or undetermined. Assuming that there exist epistemologically responsible persons who have an opinion on this thesis, a free choice must be made. Therefore, we are free. This is contradiction, so let us see what happens when we posit freedom. If we are free, then in any decision we make, we are determined to make a decision, as Jean-Paul Sartre observed in Being and Nothingness. We are not free to be free. If our freedom is determined, then it becomes difficult to locate that freedom in the first place. Freedom begins to look arbitrary, and arbitrarity is a form of determinism. Thus, we are not free. We have, then, an apparent paradox on our hands: if we are free, then we are not free; if we are not free, then we are free. Though this problem of freedom has some features of a paradox, the arguments above are sketchy and loose, so it may not be a paradox afterall. In any case, though, the problem of freedom can be seen as an unsolvable problem (and this will have to remain an assumption).
Metaphysically speaking, what is at stake in the question of human freedom is the question of whether we form a separate class of entities from the physical world. We have also seen how the structure of human freedom (viz. human reason) is similar in complexity to the structure of the physical world. These two notions taken together would entail that there are two classes of beings: beings of the physical world, and beings which make rational choices within the physical world. But must we call this second class of beings (human beings) a metaphysical class? The only reason we would have to do this is if we cannot classify them as material. So if I want to be a materialist, I can either prove that everything in the world adheres to my definition of materialism, or I can define “material” as everything in the world. Such a redefinition would only make sense if there is real similarity between one’s designated classes of material. If we claim, then, that the act of human reasoning is itself a material (similar to, say, Leibnizian monads), then the similarity is easy to show. Let us use B-matter (short for Being-matter) to describe physical matter, and F-matter (short for Freedom-matter) to describe “rational” matter. B-matter consists of all the protons, electrons, bodies, houses, mountains, planets and stars; while F-matter consists of all different types of rational processes exclusive to free rational beings. The F-matter that exists is, precisely, all the human beings who exist and all the choices that these human beings actually make. Similarly, the B-matter that exists is all the stars and planets that have actually come into existence, rather than the set of possible objects. The B-matter that exists is, literally, the matter that our experience tells us exists. One can imagine, then, a whole dimension of “free-willers” which can be measured based on what choices were made and what choices were not made. What I am trying to set up, here, is a parallel between being/non-being and free/un-free. The act of being which any physical object does points to its existence as B-matter, just as the act of choosing which any person does points to that person’s existence as F-matter. Just as a physical entity is comprised of the various electrons, protons, quarks, etc. from which it is built, so a rational entity is comprised of the various choices made in time, and the ways that these choices fit together in the system of human reasoning to form a whole person. Thus, when we say that everything is matter, but that there are two classes of matter, the claim is non-trivial. Pending the solution of the problem of freedom/determinism, it looks as if we can dissolve the divide between realists and non-realists about the human self.
Proponents of theism would note, here, that where there are at least two classes which bear a similarity to each other, these two classes themselves form a new class. Indeed, we have already named this class “matter” (and its constituents are B-matter and F-matter). It is quite apparent that the relationship between the two types of matter is what will inform our concept of the general class “material”. As a materialist, such a theist would have to observe that there exists nothing over and above the material itself, so the relationship between the two types of matter becomes terribly important. This relationship (vague as our description of it has been) is the only appropriate subject for the term “God”, should a materialist have any desire to posit a God. I do not claim to have proven God to exist, for I do not believe such a thing to be possible; rather, I have only provided the material space within which such a God can be named. But this concept is still too vague to be useful to any serious metaphysical thinker. What is important for the reader to take away from these metaphysical reflections is the notion that metaphysicians have been so interested in distinguishing the physical from the metaphysical that they have forgotten just how similar the two seem to be. The real question is, I think, if we can develop a science of human reason, do we acquire a science of metaphysics thereby? If the answer is “yes”, then we have been thinking about metaphysics in the wrong terms for a long time.
Surreal conjecture about a science of metaphysics aside, one may reasonably ask whether the inference I've made concerning materialism is philosophically trivial. It is important to keep in mind that I have only made a plausible inference based on inconclusive evidence. Essentially, our evidence is that there are at least two entities in human knowledge that we can be certain exist: the known and the knower. These two entities seem to bear a similar complexity to each other, which makes each adequate to the other, and does not necessitate a third entity. The inference is this: if there is a similarity in complexity such each is exactly the appropriate subject of the other, then there may also be a similarity in the nature of the two entities. Thus, our inference is non-trivial in one sense and trivial in another. It is non-trivial because thinking of human freedom as a fifth dimension and human knowers as material entities changes the ways we think about the self (e.g. that freedom no longer needs to be infinite and that it can be measured). It is trivial because one must still posit another realm of entities to augment the physical world. At the end of the day, most would still consider this metaphysical realm, but it seems to me a less abstruse (and thus, more plausible) metaphysics than is usually found.
-Priam's Pride
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