Thomas Aquinas on Natural Inclination: Nature, Human Nature, and Ethics Steven Baldner, St. Francis Xavier University [Note this is a draft of work in progress; it is not for publication or for quotation. I would welcome any comments or criticisms: [email protected].] Let me begin by thanking sincerely Dr. John McCarthy and the School of Philosophy at CUA for extending the invitation to me to deliver this paper. I have the highest regard for the School’s work in philosophy, and I have treasured friendships with a number of you that extend back many years. On both counts I want to try to justify the confidence you have placed in me, though if I fail to do so, please know that such failure is not from want of effort. Natural inclination might be understood as an individual inclination for something. Given my individual make-up, which is a product at least in part of nature, I might have an inclination to like or to dislike certain foods, or I might have an inclination to certain emotions more readily than others. This is not the sense of natural inclination that I intend to discuss today. This sense of individual inclination would be most relevant, for example, to the problem of the primo primi movements of the sense appetite, and to many problems of sin and morality, but that is not the sense that I am going to discuss here. Natural inclination, as I am taking it, is an inclination for an end that is good, and this end is recognized to be good for all members of a species or for the world as a whole. It is an inclination that is rooted in nature, and it is a nature that is shared by all individuals of the kind. This inclination is a tendency toward a good, and insofar as the good is not yet possessed it makes sense to talk about an “appetite” or a “desire” for the good. The Latin verbal form of appetite (appetere) means “to seek,” and the natural inclination can be understood as a seeking 2 for the good end. Let me signal that “natural inclination,” “natural appetite,” and “natural desire” may be used somewhat interchangeably. Of course, when we are talking about natural substances without cognition, we do not mean that there is any conscious intending of the end – at least, not as far as the non-cognitive substance is concerned. When I was asked for the title of this paper, I had rather vaguer and grander ideas in mind than I have seen fit to accomplish. I am going to talk mostly in this paper about nature, but I hope also to indicate the relevance of what I am saying to human nature and to ethics. The first point that I wish to make about Thomas Aquinas’ doctrine of natural inclination is that natural inclination, according to Thomas, pervades all of nature. Natural inclination is present in matter itself, insofar as it has a natural desire for form; it is present in the basic elements, each of which has a natural inclination to its own place; it is present in the heavenly bodies, which, although they are moved, have a natural inclination to circular motion; it is present in all living organisms, each of which has a natural inclination to achieve its own fulfillment or perfection; it is present in the angels, who, like human beings, have a natural inclination to happiness and union with God.1 And natural inclination is present in a number of ways in human beings: we have, of course, a natural inclination to our ultimate end, which is happiness; each kind of human emotion has a natural inclination to an end, and hence there is a specific virtue to perfect the realization of that emotion; the natural law, of course, is derived from an analysis of natural inclinations; and even the incorruptible human soul when it is separated from the human body retains its natural inclination to be united with its body. The first point that I wish to underline is the ubiquity of the doctrine of natural inclination in the 1 See, for example, Thomas’ explanation of how angels, insofar as they are natural beings and like all other natural beings, have a natural inclination to their end, which is their own good. ST I, q. 60, aa. 1-2. 3 philosophy of Thomas Aquinas. It is as all-pervasive in Thomas’ account of nature as is the doctrine of hylomorphism, with which it is closely related. In what follows I am going to discuss natural inclination first in matter itself, then in form, and third in natural composites of matter and form. I shall thereafter extend my remarks somewhat to include natural inclination in animals, men, and angels. I. The Natural Inclination of Matter Thomas, as I say, thinks that natural inclination is fundamental even to matter itself. Hence, in the first part of the paper, I wish to consider the natural inclination of matter. In his Commentary on Book I of Aristotle’s Physics, Thomas claims that matter – prime matter – has an appetite for form or desires form. By nature, Thomas tells us, matter seeks and desires (appetere et desidere) form.2 It does not, however, desire only one form; it fact, it is restless, and no one form can satisfy its desire for form, except in the case of the matter in the heavenly bodies.3 Prime matter is one in subject, but multiple in relation to other possible forms.4 Aristotle had said that the desire of matter to form is like the desire of the female for the male.5 If so, it has to be said that the matter in our world is not very faithful. Explaining this natural inclination or desire of matter for form presents, however, a number of difficulties. For Thomas himself, there were two difficulties that he wished to avoid, one associated with Parmenides and the other with his own teacher, Albertus Magnus. The Parmenidean position is that matter is the equivalent of non-being. To be, according to Parmenides, has only one opposite member, and that is non-being simpliciter. Further, since to 2 In Phys. I, lect. 15, n. 136 (8). 3 Vincent Edward Smith, The General Science of Nature (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1958) p. 117, has made the point that matter is restless, ever seeking to acquire new forms. 4 In Phys. I, lect. 15, n. 131 (3). 5 Physics 1.9 (192a23-25). 4 be is to be actual (that is, to be form), to talk about matter is to talk about what is not actual and, hence, is non-being. This absurd Parmenidean conclusion is reached, Thomas tells us, because of the failure to distinguish matter from privation. Change is only possible because of a genuine lack or privation. If we do not affirm this, the change is not real but only apparent. Real change can happen only when in some real sense the change is from non-being to being. Hence, privation is an essential principle of all change or motion. The mistake of Parmenides, however, is to think that privation, non-being, is the principle simpliciter of change. The claim that motion or change is real is a claim that being in some way comes from non-being, and this of course is impossible, as Parmenides tells us. As Thomas explains, however, matter is not to be identified with privation. Rather, matter is something that has privation, but the two are quite distinct. However much change requires privation, the real potency for form is in matter. “The potency for form is not some property added beyond the essence of matter; rather, matter by its very substance is a potency for substantial being. The potency of matter is one in subject with respect to the many forms, but there are multiple potencies in meaning in relation to the many forms.”6 Matter, Thomas tells us, has a natural appetite for form. But it cannot have such an appetite insofar as it already possesses some form. An appetite always implies some lack: “every appetite exists on account of a lack, because it is directed to what is not possessed.” 7 Given an existing, actual form, there is no appetite or seeking. Nor can appetite exist because of privation as such. Since the privation is the contrary of the existing form, to suppose that the appetite is in the privation would amount to saying that something seeks its own destruction, which is absurd.8 6 In Phys. I, Lect. 15, n. 131 (3). 7 “appetitus autem omnis est propter indigentiam, quia est non habiti.” In Phys. I, Lect. 15, n. 136 (8). 8 “similiter et [materia] non appetit eam [formam] secundum quod est sub contrario vel privatione, quia unum contrarium est alterius corruptivum, et sic aliquid appeteret sui corruptionem.” Ibid. 5 Since there are only three principles of nature (form, matter, and privation), and since the appetite for form cannot be in matter because of form or because of privation, it remains that matter itself, prime matter, has an appetite, or a natural inclination, for form. Avicenna, however, raises some very common-sense objections.9 Matter cannot be said to have a natural appetite or inclination because, on the one hand, it is not an animal and hence does not have appetite in the sense in which animals do; nor is matter like earth, which is heavy and has a natural inclination downward, because matter lacks all form. Furthermore, matter in actual things does not really lack a form – it already has one – and it is absurd to talk about its appetite for many or all forms, as though matter were bored of its present form and seeking some new formal thrill. Such talk seems to be metaphorical rather than philosophical. Thomas’ responds to this objection as follows. “Whatever seeks something else (appetit aliquid) does so either because it knows what it is seeking and orders itself to it accordingly, or it tends toward it by the ordering and direction of something that does have knowledge, as the arrow is directed to the target by the directing and ordering of the archer. A natural appetite, therefore, is nothing other than the ordering of things according to their own nature to their end. Hence, not only can actual beings be ordered to their ends by their active powers, but also matter as a potential being [can be so ordered], because form is the end of matter. Therefore, for matter to have an appetite for form is nothing other than to be ordered to form as potency is ordered to act.”10 9 In Phys. I, lect. 15, n. 137 (9). 10 “Sciendum est enim quod omne quod appetit aliquid, vel cognoscit ipsum et se ordinat in illud; vel tendit in ipsum ex ordinatione et directione alicuius cognoscentis, sicut sagitta tendit in determinatum signum ex directione et ordinatione sagittantis. Nihil est igitur aliud appetitus naturalis quam ordinatio aliquorum secundum propriam naturam in suum finem. Non solum autem aliquid ens in actu per virtutem activam ordinatur in suum finem, sed etiam materia secundum quod est in potentia; nam forma est finis materiae. Nihil igitur est aliud materiam appetere formam, quam eam ordinari ad formam ut potentia ad actum.” In Phys. I, lect. 15, n. 138 (10). 6 Significantly, Thomas uses the image here that he uses to talk about final causality in the Fifth Way. There he talks about things that lack intelligence and yet are still ordered to an end. Thomas here is telling us that the finality that is intended in such a proof for the existence of God is not only found in living organisms or in cognitive animals but it is found everywhere in nature, insofar as natural things are all composites of matter and form. The omni-potency for form, and hence inclination for it, belongs to prime matter itself, and prime matter must be distinguished from the privation that is necessary to change but not the subject of it, as Parmenides had seemed to have thought. If Parmenides’ mistake was that of failing to distinguish privation from matter, there is an opposing mistake in explaining the appetite of matter for form, and this is the mistake of supposing that there is some sort of inchoate or incipient form in matter that has an appetite for form. This mistake is that of attributing a kind of form as something imperfect but still active to matter; according to some, this is in fact the role of privation. Thomas criticizes this mistake in the following words. “It is clearly the intention of Aristotle that privation, which is taken to be a principle of nature per accidens, is not some aptitude for form, or an inchoate form, or some active imperfect principle, as some say. Rather, privation is the lacking of form or the contrary of form that belongs to a subject.”11 This position of which Thomas is critical, the position, that privation is an aptitude for form or an inchoate form, is in fact the position held by Thomas’ teacher, Albert the Great.12 When Albert explains the three principles of nature, of course, he argues that matter, form, and privation are 11 ”Patet ergo secundum intentionem Aristotelis quod privatio, quae ponitur principium naturae per accidens, non est aliqua aptitudo ad formam, vel inchoatio formae, vel aliquod principium imperfectum activum, ut quidam dicunt, sed ipsa carentia formae vel contrarium formae, quod subiecto accidit.” In Phys. I, lect 13, n. 113 (4). 12 See Steven Baldner, “Albert on Matter, Motion, and the Heavens,” The Thomist 78 (2014) 327-350. 7 all necessary to explain motion and change.13 Albert, however, insists that matter cannot be entirely devoid of form; in order to explain motion there must be in matter already something of form.14 This is so because Albert understands motion to be what he calls a “flowing of form” – a fluxus formae or forma fluens. When something is changing the terminus of the change must in some way be present already in the matter that is undergoing the change. Albert’s example is a change of color.15 If something black becomes white, the process of whitening (albatio) can only occur if whiteness itself exists as a proto form in the thing that is becoming white. Thus, at first there is a minimal whiteness and mostly blackness, but by degrees the whiteness increases and the blackness decreases. At the end, white is dominant and black is minimal, but still present, because the thing could, of course, become black again. Albert, thus, attributes to privation formal, active entities, none of which are numerically one or independent, but all of which are real as proto forms and capable of having relations with each other.16 If the mistake of Parmenides and the early naturalists was to have denied the role of privation, Albert’s mistake is to have given an active, formal role to privation that is too much. Thomas insists that matter has an appetite for form, but he rejects any notion that there is any sort of formal, active principle in 13 “Sciendum enim, quod sicut in antehabitis diximus, privatio secundum quod privatio nihil ponit et tamen non est reducibilis in omnino nihil, eo quod relinquit aptitudinem in subiecto, gratia cuius efficitur principium motus.” Albert, Physica, bk. 1, tr. 3, c. 9 (Cologne ed., 4.1;54, ll. 39-45). 14 “Sententia autem Aristotelis et Peripateticorum est, quod omne quod fit, est in eo ex quo fit, in potentia, quae non nihil est formae, quia potentia est habitualis, quae est essentia formae impefecta et quasi formae inchoatio, et fit, quando producitur ad actum per generationem.” Albert, Physica, bk. 1, tr. 2, c. 12 (Cologne ed., 4.1:34, ll. 14-19). 15 “Sumamus autem hic, quod in Tertio Libro huius scientiae probabimus, scilicet quod motus physicus non sit nisi aliqua forma fluens secundum suum esse et non secundum suam essentiam, sicut patet in eo qui albatur. Albatio enim non est nisi albedo fluens secundum esse, quod habit in materia, et exiens continue de esse in esse. Constat autem, quod sic fluens non flueret, nisi a permixtione nigredinis exiret; ergo fluit a contrario sibi permixto.” Albert, Physica, bk. 1, tr. 3, c. 3 (Cologne ed., 4.1:42, ll. 72-80). 16 “Si autem privatio sumatur pro aptitudine, quam relinquit in subiecto, sic iterum est principium unum numero cum materia, diversum in esse.” Albert, Physica bk. 1, tr. 3, c. 10 (Cologne ed., 4.1:56, ll. 58-61). Albert explains the same doctrine of motion as flowing form in book 2 of the Physics. He says that form has being (habet esse) in three ways: one, as privation, which is an imperfect, indeterminate state of the form; two, as something in motion, which is a mixture of the forms of privation and of actuality; and three, as the terminus of motion, which is the perfect being of the form. In all cases, the form is essentially the same, although different in being. Albert, Physica bk. 2, tr. 2, c. 2 (Cologne ed., 4.1:99, ll. 8-22). 8 matter. Privation is necessary for change, but necessary as a lack. If matter and form are opposed as potency and act, it is impossible that matter be accorded form. Furthermore, Albert’s description of motion as a “flowing of form” (fluxus formae, forma fluens) implies a confusion between motion and operation. For Thomas, when something moves from A to B, the motion between the two termini is not an imperfect form of, or half of, the intended terminus.17 If I’m driving from New York to Los Angeles, when I’m half-way to Los Angeles, I do not have half of L.A.; what I do have is Kansas. In describing motion thus, Albert, from Thomas’ point of view, is confusing operation and motion.18 When an operation occurs, like speaking or thinking, even if the operation is somewhat imperfect in the beginning and more perfect at the end, nevertheless, it is true that the operation achieves its goal to some degree throughout the entire 17 Thomas does describe motion as an “imperfect act,” actus impefectus. By this he means that motion is something in between potency and actuality. He does not mean, as Albert had, that the moving thing has an imperfect possession of the terminus of the motion. If something is to be heated to 100 degrees but the process of heating is stopped at 50 degrees, then 50 degrees, and not 100, is the terminus of motion. On the other hand, if it is still in process of being heated toward 100 degrees, then it has an ordination to that end but it does not yet possess it. “Considerandum est igitur quod aliquid est in actu tantum, aliquid vero in potentia tantum, aliquid vero medio modo se habens inter potentiam et actum. Quod igitur est in potentia tantum, nondum movetur: quod autem iam est in actu perfecto, non movetur, sed iam motum est: illud igitur movetur, quod medio modo se habet inter puram potentiam et actum, quod quidem partim est in potentia et partim in actu; ut patet in alteratione. Cum enim aqua est solum in potentia calida, nondum movetur: cum vero est iam calefacta, terminatus est motus calefactionis: cum vero iam participat aliquid de calore sed imperfecte, tunc movetur ad calorem; nam quod calefit, paulatim participat calorem magis ac magis. Ipse igitur actus imperfectus caloris in calefactibili existens, est motus: non quidem secundum id quod actu tantum est, sed secundum quod iam in actu existens habet ordinem in ulteriorem actum; quia si tolleretur ordo ad ulteriorem actum, ipse actus quantumcumque imperfectus, esset terminus motus et non motus, sicut accidit cum aliquid semiplene calefit. Ordo autem ad ulteriorem actum competit existenti in potentia ad ipsum. Et similiter, si actus imperfectus consideretur tantum ut in ordine ad ulteriorem actum, secundum quod habet rationem potentiae, non habet rationem motus, sed principii motus: potest enim incipere calefactio sicut a frigido, ita et a tepido. Sic igitur actus imperfectus habet rationem motus, et secundum quod comparatur ad ulteriorem actum ut potentia, et secundum quod comparatur ad aliquid imperfectius ut actus.” Thomas, In Physic., III, lect. 2, n. 3. In In Physic.,, IV, lect. 5, n. 803(17), Thomas states Albert’s position with Albert’s example, though in reverse (the process of blackening rather than of whitening). Some people say the following. “Dicunt enim quod hoc quod dicitur, quod id quod mutatur partim est in termino a quo et partim in termino ad quem, non sic est intelligendum, quod una pars eius quod movetur sit in uno termino et alia in alio, sed est referendum ad partes terminorum: quia scilicet id quod movetur partem habet de termino a quo et partem de termino ad quem; sicut illud quod movetur de albedine in nigredinem, primo non habet perfecte albedinem nec perfecte nigredinem, sed aliquid participat imperfecte de utroque. Thomas says of this postion: “Haec autem expositio extorta est, and contra opinionem Aristotelis.” Ibid., n. 804(18). I am thankful to Dr. Jonathan Buttacci of CUA for his comments on this matter. 18 For the distinction, see Thomas, III Sent., d. 31, q. 2, a. 1, qcla. 2. 9 operation. Motion, on the other hand, only achieves its goal at the end, when in fact the motion is completed. Albert’s ascription of proto form to privation involves, Thomas would say, a mistaken description of motion. A third problem that arises in understanding the appetite of matter for form has to do with the cosmology of Thomas’ day and the understanding of the heavenly bodies. As is well known, Thomas understood the material universe above the Earth’s atmosphere (the Moon, the planets, the Sun, and the stars) to be very different from the sub-lunar world in that the heavenly bodies are completely ungenerable and incorruptible. They move locally (in circular motion), but they do so in completely regular, though very complex, patterns. The problem Thomas had was that of explaining how it is that, if prime matter is an appetite for form, the matter of the heavenly bodies has an appetite for only one form. The typical explanation of Thomas’ position is that, to solve this problem, Thomas supposed that there are two sorts of prime matter, the sort of prime matter we have been talking about so far that is in all earthly substances, and a different sort of prime matter that makes up the ethereal substances in the heavens. The difference between these two sorts of prime matter focusses, again, on privation. Earthly prime matter is always accompanied by privation, but there simply is no privation in the heavenly prime matter; it is united to one form with a single-minded, unwavering fidelity. It never even looks at another form. In my interpretation, Thomas did in fact hold this position, but he did not always hold it and, at the end of his career, he rejected it. In fact, I think that Thomas changed his mind about this twice. Early, when he wrote his Commentary on the Sentences and also his Commentary on the De Trinitate of Boethius, Thomas accepted the very odd position of Averroes.19 According to 19 For a discussion of Thomas’ change of positions on this problem, see Steven Baldner, “Aquinas on Celestial Matter,” The Thomist 68(2004) 431-467. Averroes’ position can be found in Sermo de substantia orbis in Aristotelis 10 the Averroistic view, the heavenly bodies are not hylomorphic compositions at all. Each heavenly body is simply a luminous lump of ether that is moved by an associated but separate mover (or Intelligence). Averroes had argued that the composition of form and matter is given to explain generation and corruption; since generation and corruption are absent from the heavens, there is no reason to suppose any hylomorphic composition in those bodies, and hence there is no prime matter in them. Later, when Thomas wrote the First Part of the Summa theologiae, he rejected this Averroist position as an absurdity.20 If something is a material substance it must be a composite of prime matter and substantial form. If a substance is not composed, it could only exist as a form, like an angel, but clearly the heavenly bodies are perceptible and hence composed. At this point Thomas expressed what most take to be Thomas’ position: that the prime matter of the heavens is simply by nature matter with an appetite for one form only. His very latest accounts of this, however, in the Commentary on the De caelo and the De substantiis separatis, show a shift in position.21 In these works, Thomas again affirms that the heavenly bodies are indeed composites of prime matter and substantial form, but here he explains that the incorruptibility of these bodies is explained by their substantial forms. These bodies are composed of prime matter, and their prime matter Thomas tells us, is just in itself pure potentiality, but the substantial forms of these bodies are very different from those of earthly substances. The heavenly substantial forms are “total,” unlike the earthly forms that are “partial.” opera cum Averrois commentariis, Vol. 9 (Venice: Apud Junctas, 1562), fol. 3-14. See especially chapters 1-2, fol. 3-6. For Thomas’ early Averroistic position, see II Sent. D. 12, Q. 1, A. 1, Resp. & Ad 5; In Boeth. De Trinitate, lect. 2, q. 1, q 4, qd 4. 20 ST I, q. 66, a. 2. 21 In de caelo, I, lect. 6, nn. 59-63.