SELF AND SUBSTANCE IN LEIBNIZ Self and Substance in Leibniz by Marc Elliott Bobro University of Southern Maine, U.S.A. KLUWER ACADEMIC PUBLISHERS NEW YORK,BOSTON, DORDRECHT, LONDON, MOSCOW eBookISBN: 1-4020-2582-3 Print ISBN: 1-4020-2024-4 ©2005 Springer Science + Business Media, Inc. Print ©2004 Kluwer Academic Publishers Dordrecht All rights reserved No part of this eBook maybe reproducedor transmitted inanyform or byanymeans,electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without written consent from the Publisher Created in the United States of America Visit Springer's eBookstore at: http://ebooks.kluweronline.com and the Springer Global Website Online at: http://www.springeronline.com Acknowledgements I thank Kenneth Clatterbaugh, Nicholas Jolley, Robert Coburn, Cass Weller, Jean Roberts, David Keyt, Anthony Savile, Paul Lodge, Donald Rutherford, Edwin McCann, Margaret Wilson, Christia Mercer, Jonathan Bennett, Peter Remnant, Donald Rutherford, Mark Kulstad, Andrew Pessin, Glenn Hartz, John Cottingham, David Lewis, Patricia Kitcher, James Mahoney, Kevin Staley, and two anonymous referees. I mustn’t forget Virginia and our children, Emma, Malcolm, and Cedric. Casco, Maine, United States M. E. B. November 2003 v Table of Contents Introduction 1 1. Am I Essentially A Person? 7 2. What Makes Me A Person? 21 3. What Makes Me The Same Person? 39 4. Could Thinking Machines Be Moral Agents? 60 5. Why Bodies? 80 6. What Makes My Survival Meaningful? 99 Conclusion 118 Appendix A. On Hume 120 Appendix B. On Kant’s Paralogisms 124 Bibliography 133 Index of Proper Names 142 vii Introduction There is a close connection in Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz’s mind between the notions of self and substance. R. W. Meyer, in his classic 1948 text, Leibnitz and the Seventeenth-Century Revolution, writes that “the monad … is nothing but a représentation (in both senses of the French word)1 of Leibniz’s personality in metaphysical symbols; and there was, under contemporary circumstances, no need to ‘introduce’ this concept apart from ‘propounding’ it.”2 It is not clear what Meyer means here except that from the consideration of his own self, in some way Leibniz comes to his concept of simple substance, or monad. Herbert Carr, in an even earlier work, notes that Leibniz held that “the only real unities in nature are formal, not material.… [and] [f]or a long time Leibniz was content to call the formal unities or substantial forms he was speaking about, souls. This had the advantage that it referred at once to the fact of experience which supplies the very type of a substantial form, the self or ego.”3 Finally, Nicholas Rescher, in his usual forthright manner, states that “[i]n all of Leibniz’s expositions of his philosophy, the human person is the paradigm of a substance.”4 He continues, explaining something all students of Leibniz can understand, unfortunately: “Indeed it is only at this level that we humans can gain a cognitive grip on the realm of monads; in all other contexts, individual monads lie entirely outside the realm of our experience and knowledge.”5 Undoubtedly, there is a close connection in Leibniz’s mind between the notions of self and substance. But what is not agreed upon by commentators is the nature of the connection between self and substance. Is a self for Leibniz identical with a particular substance? Or, do selves merely resemble immaterial substances—a helpful device to get a handle on the mysterious monad? Ultimately, are Leibnizian selves best understood as Lockean unities or histories of consciousness? However, like his great rationalist forebears René Descartes and Baruch Spinoza, Leibniz’s answer to this question has not garnered much scholarly attention. (The heretofore closest thing to an adequate discussion of Leibniz’s notions of the self and of personal identity is found in Gaston Grua’s Jurisprudence universelle et Théodicée selon Leibniz.) I remember telling one of my past mentors (a very astute man well-versed in the “rationalists”) what I was currently working on and his response: “I did not even know that Leibniz had a theory of personal identity!” The most complete articulation of Leibniz’s theory comes in Book II, Chapter 27, of the Nouveaux essais sur l’entendement humain (New Essays on Human Understanding) (completed in 1704, first published in 1765), a point-by-point analysis of John Locke’s theory of personal identity in An Essay Concerning 1 2 Introduction Human Understanding (second edition, 1694). Many who happen to read Leibniz’s words on personal identity in the Nouveaux essais see Leibniz in basic agreement with Locke, whose own (contemporaneous) theory of personal identity was and still is widely known in philosophical circles. Certainly Leibniz is partly to blame for the (I believe, mistaken) impression that Leibniz is in basic agreement with Locke. We find Leibniz saying to Locke: “I concede …,” “I admit …”. Are such phrases serious? It is hard to tell. Probably, but we have to be careful in concluding as to what Leibniz really concedes to Locke. Often he is conceding something but it is not as generous as it might appear at first glance. (As noted by Gaston Grua, Leibniz often disseminated ideas he found probable or attractive without actually championing such ideas.6) Leibniz can appear overly conciliatory in the Nouveaux essais and even involves himself (as represented by Theophilus) in a sustained dialogue with “Locke” (as represented by Philalethes) at times as if they were proceeding from the same definitions, having the same objectives, and working under the same constraints. The passages on personal identity seem no different; consequently, it can be difficult to discern any substantial disagreement between Leibniz and Locke. No doubt Leibniz and Locke do share some of the same objectives and work under some of the same constraints. But, as we will see, such similarity in project does not translate into similarity of product. 1. Overview of Book So how will we come to see that Leibniz’s theory of personal identity stands on its own—that it offers an original, internally coherent, theory of personal identity? The first chapter “Am I Essentially A Person?” addresses the following question: I am a person, but am I essentially or most fundamentally a person? In other words, can I exist (or did I once exist) without being a person? I will argue that for Leibniz once a person, always a person. This is not true for Locke. So right from the start we find a significant difference between Leibniz and Locke. The second chapter “What Makes Me A Person?” proceeds by showing that by taking the monad, itself an enduring perceiver, as a base and adding certain psychological attributes such as memory, self-consciousness, and rationality, Leibniz arrives at his conception of person. But commentators have charged that Leibniz’s account of the psychological component of personal identity is inconsistent, and a first reading of Leibniz’s Nouveaux essais certainly seems to validate that charge, since he says both that memory is necessary and that it is not. However, I will argue in the second chapter that there is no inconsistency in Leibniz’s account of the psychological component of personal identity since Leibniz distinguishes between what is necessary for being a person from what is necessary for being the same person over time. Monads—Leibnizian simple substances—are seemingly perfect candidates for persons. For, by all accounts, monads are immaterial, enduring substances distinguished by the content and clarity of their internally-driven and incessantly changing perceptions, yet each existing in preestablished harmony with all the others. Leibniz’s monads are really a far cry from anything Locke takes to be a substance. They are certainly not “substrata” or things with “bare substantial Introduction 3 existence and duration.” Thus, substance in Leibniz’s hands is a much more promising candidate as a condition for personal identity than substance in Locke’s hands. Nevertheless, a number of commentators of Leibniz’s mature metaphysics have hesitated to attribute to him the unequivocal claim that persons are monads at all. They believe that after reading Locke’s Essay, Leibniz is so smitten with Locke’s conception of person as psychologically continuous being, that either Leibniz takes on Locke’s view without ever giving up his earlier understanding of person and as a consequence holds inconsistent views or actually abandons it in favor of Locke’s view that sameness of substance (that is, monadic identity) is not necessary for personal identity. In the third chapter “What Makes Me The Same Person?” I will argue that although Locke’s theory of personal identity certainly had some important influence on Leibniz, Leibniz never abandons his view that sameness of substance is necessary for the continued existence of the same person. Leibniz remains committed both to an immaterialist notion of substance and an immaterialist explanation of thought. The latter claim follows from the former since thought must be caused by a substance. According to Leibniz, the unity of consciousness must necessarily be explained by or caused by a true unity, that is, a simple, indivisible substance.7 Locke, however, is committed neither to an immaterialist notion of substance nor an immaterialist explanation of thought (E II, 27, §§8, 21; E II, 1, §11). At most, Locke holds that a substance is a mere bearer of properties, with no distinguishing features of its own, that uniquely individuates it from other substances. (I say, “at most,” since at least one commentator holds that Locke properly speaking has no theory of substance at all.8) According to Locke, identity of substance (material or immaterial) has nothing to do with psychological identity, that is, of psychological properties, character, personality, memories, disposition, and attitudes.9 As Carol Rovane understands Locke: “the soul affords no explanatory insight into the phenomenological unity of consciousness, or any other form of psychic unity.”10 As a consequence, it is no surprise that Locke comes to reject the view that substantial identity (sameness of substance) is even relevant to personal identity. Such a difference between Leibniz and Locke cannot be overcome, I believe. I will show in the fourth chapter “Could Thinking Machines be Moral Agents?” that the monadic conception of substance is also crucial in grounding Leibniz’s account of what it takes for a person to be morally responsible for past deeds, that is, morally identical with the perpetrator of those deeds. Commentators, however, have pointed to several passages in which Leibniz seems to deny that sameness of substance is necessary for moral identity. One exceptional passage seems to catch Leibniz in saying that a thinking machine could be a genuine moral agent. But this would entail the irrelevance of substance in judgments of moral identity, given that for Leibniz machines are not substances at all, but mere aggregates of matter. All the more reason, these commentators have asserted, to think that Leibniz is smitten by Locke. But I will argue in the third chapter that Leibniz never admits the possibility of thinking machines as 4 Introduction moral agents. Nevertheless, Leibniz does countenance the logical possibility of thinking machines, that is, mere aggregates of matter endowed with mental states. But there is an apparently serious problem in reconciling Leibniz’s views on moral agency with his monadological metaphysics. Leibniz believes both that there is no genuine causal interaction among monads or simple substances—they are famously “windowless”—and that moral agents do live and participate in a community. However, as argued in the third chapter, all moral agents are monads. So, how is it that non-interactive monads interact, so to speak? In the fifth chapter “Why Bodies?” I will argue that, according to Leibniz, monads cannot be part of the general order or connection of things without existing as united with a body, and hence embodiment is required for participation in a community of moral agents. I will also give an extended case for the surprising, thoroughly un- Lockean, and rarely defended claim that for Leibniz a disembodied monad could not even qualify for moral agency. This is a major difference between Leibniz’s and Locke’s theories of personal identity that has previously been overlooked—there is definitely more emphasis on body in Leibniz’s theory of personal identity than in Locke’s. True, contrary to Descartes, Locke does not explicitly deny that we will be embodied in the afterlife. In paraphrasing 1 Corinthians 15:44, Locke writes that those with faith can expect to receive heavenly bodies which are “powerful, glorious, and incorruptible” (Wk 8, 174). But Locke does not seem to have independent philosophical reasons for such a view. For he writes to Lord Stillingfleet that “the resurrection of the dead I acknowledge to be an article of the Christian faith: but that the resurrection of the same body, in your lordship’s sense of the same body, is an article of the Christian faith, is what, I confess, I do not yet know” (Wk 4, 303). Now, although his theory of personal identity can accommodate the possibility of Christian resurrection (whether that entails the resurrection of the same body or our acquisition of a qualitatively different body), nevertheless his account is perfectly consistent both with the possibility that we are thinking “machines” (i.e., aggregates of physical particles with the power of thought [E IV, 3, §6]) and that thinking machines do the thinking for us. But more relevant, in recalling the forensic nature of Locke’s theory of personal identity, there is no commitment to the view that genuine moral agents must be embodied. So long as the individual consciously remembers his or her deeds, he or she is responsible for those deeds, whether those memories are being had by an immaterial substance that is embodied, or a material substance, or a disembodied immaterial substance. It is this latter possibility that worries Leibniz. Unlike Locke it appears, Leibniz gives explicitly philosophical reasons for an embodied life, both in the present and the hereafter, independent of Christian faith. Whereas Leibniz rejects the idea that I am not essentially a person, he deeply approves of the Henry More’s and Anne Conway’s anti-Cartesian view that we are always embodied. He does not go so far as More and Conway in saying that spirit and body are merely two aspects of one and the same thing, but he does hold that I am a particular substance that is always united with a body. In fact, I will argue in Chapter 5 that for Leibniz I could not even qualify for moral agency unless I had a body. This is a view that seems