1. Introduction
Anyone who opens Baruch Spinoza’s Ethics will immediately notice its unusual philosophical structure: definitions, axioms, postulates, propositions, demonstrations, and scholia. This structure is not unusual in treatises of geometry and mathematics, whose paradigmatic referent is Euclid’s Elements. The Ethics typically begins each part with a few definitions, axioms, or postulates, and deduces from them a large number of propositions concerning ontological, epistemological, and ethical matters. This procedure, known as the mos geometricus, has given rise to a long-standing question: Why does Spinoza present his philosophy in this form?
Answers divide, broadly, into two camps. Externalist readings treat the geometrical method as something detachable from Spinoza’s philosophy — a literary device, a rhetorical strategy, or a form of exposition that could in principle be replaced by another (Mark, Reference Mark1975, p. 270; Wolfson, Reference Wolfson1934, Vol. 1, p. 44; for a more nuanced recent version, see Garrett, Reference Garrett and Della Rocca2017). The most persistent piece of evidence for this reading is Spinoza’s Descartes’ Principles of Philosophy (DPP), where he presents Cartesian views that he previously rejected in geometrical form, suggesting that the method can serve any content. Externalist readings also draw support from the fact that Spinoza initially presented similar ideas discursively in the Short Treatise before recasting them ordine geometrico (Steenbakkers, Reference Steenbakkers and Koistinen2009).
Internalist readings, by contrast, justify the geometrical method from within Spinoza’s own philosophy. Edwin Curley’s influential proposal construes the method as hypothetico-deductive: Definitions function as hypotheses from which properties are deduced and compared with known properties (Curley, Reference Curley1986). Martial Gueroult’s monumental commentary presupposes rather than argues for the internal justification, reconstructing the geometrical order proposition by proposition.Footnote 1 More recently, Valtteri Viljanen argues that reality itself has a geometrical structure, making the method constitutive rather than expository (Viljanen, Reference Viljanen2011, Reference Viljanen and Lord2018). Ursula Goldenbaum grounds the method’s necessity in the 17th century mathematization of nature (Goldenbaum, Reference Goldenbaum, Gorham, Hill, Slowik and Waters2016). And Matthew Homan explores Spinoza’s epistemology “through a geometrical lens” (Homan, Reference Homan2021).
The present article belongs to this internalist camp but proposes a path that, to my knowledge, has not previously been taken. Its central thesis is that three fundamental aspects of the method Spinoza conceives for the formation of clear and distinct ideas — (1) the deductive character of knowing; (2) the reliance on self-evident starting points functionally analogous to axioms; and (3) the need for definitions as guides to essences — converge with the three constitutive features of the mos geometricus in a way that provides a philosophically compelling justification for its use.
What, then, is the originality of this proposal? Existing internalist accounts have tended to focus on one or two of these aspects in isolation. Curley emphasizes the deductive-definitional dimension but says relatively little about why the Ethics needs axioms rather than hypotheses — and, crucially, his hypothetico-deductive model treats definitions as revisable hypotheses, which sits uneasily with Spinoza’s insistence that true definitions express innermost essences (TdIE §95)Footnote 2 and are not open to revision. Gueroult presupposes the axiomatic framework without grounding it epistemologically. Viljanen and Goldenbaum develop powerful ontological and historical arguments for the constitutive role of geometry but do not systematically connect these to Spinoza’s explicit statements about method in the TdIE and the correspondence. The contribution of the present article lies in showing that the three aspects form a unified system: The deductive aspect explains why the Ethics proceeds by demonstration; the axiomatic aspect explains from where the demonstrations begin; and the definitional aspect explains towards what they are directed. To my knowledge, no prior account has systematically brought these three together as a single, interlocking justification grounded in the TdIE’s epistemology, the TTP’s account of the intellect, and the Ethics’ own structural practice — though several have illuminated one or two aspects in depth.Footnote 3 What makes the unification indispensable, rather than a merely additive convenience, is that the three aspects are mutually dependent: Axioms without definitions are inferentially inert, since they “extend to infinity” and cannot direct the intellect towards any particular thing (TdIE §93); definitions without axioms lack the self-evident foundation that grounds the deductive chain; and neither has philosophical traction without the deductive procedure that connects starting points to conclusions. The three-aspect model captures this interdependence — something that treating each aspect in isolation cannot do.
A clarification of scope is in order. The thesis defended here concerns the geometrical method insofar as it expresses the second kind of knowledge (ratio) — knowledge proceeding from common notions and adequate ideas of properties — which constitutes the dominant register of the Ethics. The relationship between the geometrical method and the third kind of knowledge (scientia intuitiva) is a distinct question that the present article addresses but does not claim to resolve (see Section 5). The thesis is not that the geometrical method exhausts Spinoza’s epistemology, but that it enjoys a privileged — though not exclusive — status as the mode of presentation best suited to the forma veritatis understood as a deductive system.Footnote 4
Before proceeding, a brief methodological remark is in order. Throughout the paper, I draw on passages from the Tractatus de Intellectus Emendatione (TdIE) to elucidate the geometrical method of the Ethics. This requires justification, since the TdIE remains unfinished and is sometimes regarded — following Filippo Mignini (Reference Mignini1979) — as an early and ultimately superseded stage of Spinoza’s philosophy whose conclusions cannot legitimately be transferred to the Ethics. I do not adopt this reading. The TdIE is, on my view, the work in which Spinoza most explicitly investigates the nature of the intellect and the conditions under which clear and distinct ideas are formed; the unfinished character of the work coincides precisely with this investigation, where Spinoza confronts the difficulty of defining the intellect without already presupposing knowledge of its nature and power (TdIE §107; G II 38–39; C I 43). The doctrine of the vera idea data as an inborn instrument (TdIE §39, §§70–76, §107), the role of definitions in the formation of adequate ideas (TdIE §§95–98), and the requirement that knowledge proceed deductively from causes (TdIE §§85–92) are not abandoned in the Ethics but are presupposed and operative in its geometrical articulation. The relationship is therefore one of qualified continuity: What the TdIE thematizes as the form of the intellect’s activity, the Ethics implements in geometrical order. This does not commit me to the claim that every term retains an identical sense across the two works; where contextual variation matters for the argument, I note it. It commits me only to the legitimacy of using the TdIE to identify the methodological commitments that the Ethics takes up in its own demonstrative form.
2. The Deductive Aspect: The Form of Truth as a Deductive System
The preface to the Principles of Cartesian Philosophy, written by Lodewijk Meyer and approved by Spinoza, affirms that the method employed by mathematicians is “the best and surest Method of seeking and teaching the truth,” adding that “a certain and firm knowledge of anything unknown can only be derived from things known certainly beforehand” (G I 127; C I 224–225).Footnote 5 Meyer does not indicate that this is merely a method for presenting truth, but also for investigating it — a point often overlooked by externalist readings.
A key passage for the deductive character of Spinoza’s method is Ep 37. Responding to Johannes Bouwmeester, Spinoza writes that “there must, necessarily, be a Method by which we can direct and link our clear and distinct perceptions,” and that this is evident because “one clear and distinct perception, or many together, can be absolutely the cause of another clear and distinct perception” (G IV 188–189; C II 32–33). Two theses follow: First, there is a causal concatenation among clear and distinct ideas; and second, clear and distinct ideas “can arise only from other clear and distinct perceptions in us,” and “cannot have any other cause outside us.” The deductive character is confirmed in TdIE §68, where Spinoza affirms that “the ideas of things that are conceived clearly and distinctly are either most simple, or composed of most simple ideas, i.e., deduced from most simple ideas” (G II 26; C I 31).Footnote 6
The celebrated E2p7 — “The order and connection of ideas is the same as the order and connection of things” (G II 89; C I 451) — and its demonstration through E1ax4, “The knowledge of an effect depends on, and involves, the knowledge of its cause” (G II 46; C I 410), reinforce the deductive structure.Footnote 7 Spinoza himself explicitly recognizes the deductive character of the Ethics’ geometrical procedure in the Appendix to Part IV:
The things I have taught in this Part concerning the right way of living have not been so arranged that they could be seen at a glance. Instead, I have demonstrated them at one place or another, as I could more easily deduce one from another. (G II 266; C I 588)
Thus, both the method Spinoza proposes for forming true ideas and the geometrical method of the Ethics share an essentially deductive procedure. The forma veritatis — the “form of the true” or “form of the true thought” (TdIE §§69, 71; G II 26; C I 31–32) — consists in a system proceeding from most simple ideas to composite ideas deduced from them.Footnote 8 The geometrical method proves well suited to expressing this deductive form because it makes each step in the deductive chain explicit and public, thereby enacting — not merely recording — the forma veritatis.
The deductive character of the Ethics as a textual artifact is, of course, not in dispute: The geometrical disposition itself displays it. What is at stake here, however, is something more demanding. The claim is not merely that the Ethics is deductively organized — that propositions follow from earlier propositions, definitions, and axioms — but that this organization is not external to its content. The deductive form of the Ethics corresponds to the deductive form of truth itself: Clear and distinct ideas, on Spinoza’s account, are formed in the intellect through the same kind of inferential connections that the Ethics makes textually visible. The clarity and distinctness of an adequate idea is not a separate property added to it but consists, in part, in its proper deductive connection to other adequate ideas. The aim of this section is therefore to establish not the (uncontested) point that the Ethics is deductively arranged but the stronger point that this arrangement reflects the way clear and distinct ideas come to be in the intellect. It is in this sense, and not in any merely textual or expository sense, that the deductive aspect is fundamental to the geometrical method.
3. The Axiomatic Aspect: Common Notions, Axioms, and the Idea Already Given
If the method for forming true ideas is deductive, the question arises as to the starting points. The deductive procedure cannot regress to infinity. As Spinoza affirms in TdIE §39, “before all else there must be a true idea in us, as an inborn tool” (G II 16; C I 19): A true idea must already exist in us as a starting point, since otherwise nothing could be known.Footnote 9 Among the properties of the intellect, Spinoza lists that it “perceives certain things, or forms certain ideas, absolutely, and forms certain ideas from others” (TdIE §108; G II 39; C I 43). There are thus ideas the intellect forms absolutely — without reference to other ideas — and others it forms deductively. The former constitute the necessary starting points.
What is the nature of these starting points? Here a careful distinction is needed. In the Ethics, axioms are structural elements of the geometrical apparatus: propositions presented without prior demonstration. Common notions (notiones communes) are an epistemological category: adequate ideas of what is common to all things, and equally in the part and in the whole (E2p38; G II 118; C I 474). These categories are not interchangeable. Axioms are formal roles in a deductive architecture; common notions are a specific class of adequate ideas grounded in the body’s causal encounters with external bodies.Footnote 10
The claim of the present article is therefore not that axioms are common notions, but that there is a functional convergence between the two. Both serve as self-evident starting points for the deductive procedure; both are taken to be indubitable for anyone who rightly understands their terms; and both ground the inferential process that yields new truths. The evidence for this convergence comes from several directions.
First, E1p8s2: “If men would attend to the nature of substance, they would have no doubt at all of the truth of P7. Indeed, this Proposition would be an axiom for everyone, and would be numbered among the common notions” (G II 50; C I 413). Here Spinoza links three notions: the indubitability of a truth, its axiomatic status, and its condition as a common notion. The passage does not collapse the categories — it presupposes that not every axiom is a common notion — but it does show that axiomaticity and commonality can converge when a truth is self-evident to all who understand its terms.
Second, in E2p40s1, Spinoza declares that common notions “are the foundations of our reasoning” (G II 120; C I 476). This foundational role is exactly what axioms play in the geometrical procedure of the Ethics: They serve, together with definitions, as the starting points from which propositions are deduced (Primus, Reference Primus and Melamed2021; Schneider, Reference Schneider2016).
Third, the TTP provides corroboration. Spinoza affirms that “love of God arises from knowledge of him, and knowledge of God must be drawn from common notions certain and known through themselves” (TTP Chapter 4; G III 61–62; C II 129–130). In Chapter 5, he links the intellect’s procedure to deducing from “intellectual axioms known through themselves” (ex solis axiomatibus intellectualibus per se notis; G III 76; C II 147), and notes that people would rather be taught by experience than “deduce all their perceptions from a few axioms and connect them together” (G III 77; C II 148). In Chapter 6, a note refers to “certain very simple notions, called common notions” (notiones quasdam simplicissimas, communes dictas; G III 85n; C II 156). The terminological oscillation between axioms and common notions across these passages confirms that Spinoza sees a deep functional affinity between the categories, even if they are not identical.Footnote 11
The conception of the axiom defended here finds explicit support in Letter 9 to Simon de Vries (G IV 43–44; C I 194). Responding to questions about the relation between definitions and axioms, Spinoza distinguishes two kinds of definition. A definition either “explains a thing as it is outside the intellect” — in which case “it ought to be true” — or it “explains a thing as we conceive it or can conceive it” — in which case “it need only be conceived, without any further condition.” Both kinds are legitimate; Spinoza adds only that “a bad definition is one that is not conceived.” His example is telling: One may legitimately define in the mind a temple one wishes to build and infer from that definition the materials required — the productive force of a definition does not require that its object already exist outside the intellect. The geometrical method of the Ethics, where definitions are proposed for examination and consequences are derived from them, operates in this productive register.
What is distinctive about the axiom emerges from its contrast with definitions in general. First, the axiom is relational rather than definitional in character: Where the definition determines an object, the axiom articulates a connection. As Spinoza puts it, “a definition is concerned solely with the essences of things or of their affections, whereas an axiom or a proposition extends more widely, to eternal truths as well” (Ep 9; G IV 43; C I 194). The axiom thus has a scope that exceeds that of any individual definition: It articulates the relational truths within whose space defined items stand connected.
Second, where definitions of the second kind “need not be conceived as true,” the axiom must be. This does not subordinate the second kind of definition — the geometrical method is not impoverished by relying on definitions that are conceived rather than verified against external objects — but identifies what the axiom adds: A relational articulation that, beyond mere conceivability, must hold within the space of eternal truths. This confirms the role here ascribed to axiomaticity in the geometrical method: not the simple naming of a self-evident dogma, but the propositional articulation of relations that bind defined items into an inferentially closed system and that extend to the eternal truths in whose space such relations hold — consistent with E1ax4: “The knowledge of an effect depends on, and involves, the knowledge of its cause” (G II 46; C I 410).
Thus, the axiomatic aspect of the geometrical method finds a philosophically grounded parallel — not an identity, but a functional convergence — in Spinoza’s account of common notions and the true idea already given. The careful distinction between the categories, far from undermining the argument, strengthens it: It shows that Spinoza’s philosophy provides the epistemological resources (common notions) that justify the structural feature (axioms) of the geometrical method.
4. The Definitional Aspect: Definitions, Essences, and the Direction of Deduction
The third fundamental aspect is the use of initial definitions. In TdIE §93, Spinoza affirms that “from universal axioms alone the intellect cannot descend to singulars, since axioms extend to infinity, and do not determine the intellect to the contemplation of one singular thing rather than another” (G II 34; C I 39). Axioms are necessary but not sufficient. It is additionally necessary to “form thoughts from some given definition” (TdIE §94; G II 35; C I 39). Definitions direct the deductive process towards particular things.
Spinoza establishes an intimate connection between definition, essence, and proximate cause. A perfect definition must explain the innermost essence of the thing, because “the properties of things are not understood so long as their essences are not known. If we neglect them, we shall necessarily overturn the connection of the intellect, which ought to reproduce the connection of Nature” (TdIE §95; G II 35; C I 39). For “created things,” the definition must comprise the proximate cause: The circle should be defined as “the figure that is described by any line of which one end is fixed and the other movable” (TdIE §96; G II 36; C I 40), for this definition includes the proximate cause.Footnote 12
The same structure appears in the Ethics itself: The very first proposition is demonstrated by appeal to Definitions 3 and 5 (E1p1d). Spinoza stresses that “the true definition of each thing neither involves nor expresses anything except the nature of the thing defined” (E1p8s2; G II 50; C I 414). Definitions accordingly direct the intellect towards essences by drawing on what Spinoza calls res fixae et aeternae — “fixed and eternal things” — from which alone the inmost essences of singular, changeable things are to be drawn (TdIE §101; G II 36–37; C I 41).Footnote 13 The order of the intellect, on this account, should not follow the series in which singular things exist, since that series belongs to “extrinsic denominations” rather than to the inmost essence of things (TdIE §101; G II 36–37; C I 41).
The geometrical method, in beginning with definitions that aim to capture these essences, thus provides the structural apparatus that Spinoza’s epistemology requires: a means of directing the deductive procedure from universal starting points (axioms) towards the knowledge of particular things (propositions about specific essences). Definitions complement axioms by supplying what axioms lack: specificity and direction.
5. The Convergence of the Three Aspects and the Scope of the Geometrical Method
The three aspects analyzed — deductive, axiomatic, and definitional — form a unified system. The method Spinoza conceives for the formation of clear and distinct ideas requires: (1) a deductive procedure from prior true ideas to new true ideas; (2) self-evident starting points, grounded epistemologically in common notions, from which deduction begins; and (3) definitions that direct deduction towards particular essences. The geometrical method of the Ethics exhibits all three features: It is deductive par excellence, it begins with axioms, and it departs from initial definitions. The convergence is not accidental but reflects the deep affinity between Spinoza’s conception of truth and the structure of the mos geometricus.
The geometrical method is not, however, only an articulation of the forma veritatis once the standpoint of ratio has been reached. It also bears on the question of how that standpoint is achieved. In the TdIE, Spinoza describes the formation of true ideas as occurring against the background of imagination, fiction, and confused ideas, which the intellect must progressively distinguish and reduce (TdIE §§52–65; G II 19–25; C I 23–29). The transition from imagination to ratio is not a sudden conversion but a depuration: As the intellect forms clear and distinct ideas from their proximate causes, the field of confused ideas contracts, and adequate ideas come to occupy more of the mind. The geometrical method contributes to this transition by exhibiting, in publicly accessible form, the structure that adequate ideas must have. Following its demonstrations, the reader is not merely informed of conclusions but trained in the very procedure by which true ideas are formed: starting from self-evident foundations functionally analogous to axioms, articulated through definitions that capture innermost essences, and proceeding through deductions whose connections mirror the connections of things. In this sense, the method has a properly pedagogical character — not as ornament added to the philosophical content, but as exercise in the forma veritatis itself. Each demonstration successfully followed trains the reader in the formation of clear and distinct connections; each definition properly grasped is an essence understood from its proximate cause. The geometrical method thus functions as both the form and the schooling of the second kind of knowledge: In displaying how clear and distinct ideas connect, it teaches the intellect to form such connections in itself.Footnote 14
The privileged status of the geometrical method must therefore be carefully specified. The claim is not merely that the method is compatible with Spinoza’s epistemology — any number of formats might be compatible — nor merely that it best displays a deductive content (a purely expressive claim). The thesis is stronger and primarily epistemic: The form in which clear and distinct ideas are formed, produced, and derived in the intellect itself answers to a procedure that is deductive, axiomatic, and grounded in definitions of essences — precisely the procedure that the geometrical method realizes. Because adequate ideas, on Spinoza’s account, have an intrinsic structure in which deductive connections, self-evident starting points, and definitions of essences are constitutive — not contingent — features (TdIE §§35–39, §§94–95; E1ax4; E2p7), any method that proceeds in this way articulates the very form that truth takes in the understanding. The geometrical method does not merely communicate the three aspects but realizes them with maximal explicitness: It makes publicly visible what is intrinsically the case about adequate knowledge. This epistemic privilege, however, does not amount to strict necessity. Other modes of exposition can also instantiate the forma veritatis insofar as they proceed from true ideas as starting points, identify their objects through proper definitions, and connect their claims through valid inferential relations — even when these features remain implicit rather than fully displayed. What is necessary is the form itself; the geometrical method is privileged because it makes that form maximally explicit and trains the intellect in it, not because it is the only available realization.
This epistemic privilege does not entail that the geometrical method is the unique route to adequate knowledge, nor that Spinoza himself relies on it exclusively. The Appendix to Part I addresses prejudices about teleology in continuous prose; the Appendix to Part IV gathers, in summary form, conclusions about the right way of living that “have not been so arranged that they could be seen at a glance” but had to be “demonstrated at one place or another, as I could more easily deduce one from another” (E4App; G II 266; C I 588); the Short Treatise contains substantial dialogical material; and even within the Ethics itself, scholia and prefaces depart from the demonstrative register without abandoning the philosophical content. These modes have their own virtues. They stand closer to ordinary language and to familiar habits of philosophical exposition; they trade the trained transparency of the demonstrative chain for accessibility and synoptic compactness, allowing the reader to grasp at once what would otherwise require extensive deduction. They can express the forma veritatis insofar as they proceed from clear starting points, identify their objects through proper definitions, and connect their claims through valid inferences — even when these features remain implicit. The geometrical method’s distinctive contribution is to make these features fully explicit, at the cost of greater demand on the reader. It requires sustained attention and a kind of cognitive training that essayistic or dialogical formats do not. Spinoza’s use of multiple modes thus reflects a recognition of this trade-off, not a wavering on the question of philosophical form: The dialogical and discursive forms ease the reader’s entry into philosophical content, while the geometrical demonstrations articulate — and train the intellect in — the structure of adequate knowledge itself.
An anticipated objection deserves consideration. One might argue that Viljanen’s ontological internalism already provides the justification sought here: If reality itself has a geometrical structure, the method follows directly from metaphysics, and no detour through epistemological method is required. The three-aspect model does not dispute Viljanen’s insight but contends that it remains incomplete on its own terms. An ontological claim — that the order of things is geometrical — explains why some deductive format is appropriate, but it does not explain which specific features of the mos geometricus are required or why axioms and definitions must play the distinct roles they do. The three-aspect model supplies precisely this: It shows that Spinoza’s epistemology, not only his ontology, demands a deductive-axiomatic-definitional apparatus. In this sense, the present proposal complements rather than competes with Viljanen’s, grounding the structural specificity that the ontological argument leaves underdetermined.
The scope of the present argument is therefore restricted: The geometrical method is internal to the content of the Ethics and functions as the form of ratio, but this does not exhaust Spinoza’s epistemology. The relation of the geometrical method to scientia intuitiva — whether the third kind of knowledge presupposes, completes, or stands wholly outside the demonstrative procedureFootnote 15 — lies beyond the scope of this paper and merits separate treatment (Primus, Reference Primus and Melamed2017; Soyarslan, Reference Soyarslan2016; cf. Carr, Reference Carr1978).
6. Conclusion
This article has argued that the use of the geometrical method in Spinoza’s Ethics can be justified from within Spinoza’s own philosophy by identifying three fundamental aspects of his epistemological method that converge with the three constitutive features of the mos geometricus. The deductive aspect reveals that the forma veritatis is a deductive system in which true ideas are derived from other true ideas, and the geometrical method enacts this form by making the deductive transitions publicly visible. The axiomatic aspect shows that common notions — self-evident, adequate, and foundational to reasoning — provide the epistemological ground for presenting certain truths as axioms, even though common notions and axioms are not identical categories. And the definitional aspect establishes that definitions are indispensable instruments for directing deduction towards the essences of particular things, complementing axioms by supplying specificity and direction.
What distinguishes this proposal from prior internalist accounts is its articulation of these three aspects as a single, interlocking system rather than as separable features. The deductive aspect explains why the Ethics proceeds by demonstration; the axiomatic aspect explains from where the demonstrations begin; and the definitional aspect explains towards what they are directed. Together, they provide a philosophically compelling — if necessarily partial — answer to the classical question of why Spinoza demonstrates his Ethics ordine geometrico. The qualification partial is important: The thesis concerns the geometrical method as an expression of the second kind of knowledge; its relation to scientia intuitiva lies beyond the present scope. Nevertheless, insofar as the Ethics overwhelmingly operates through ratio, the three-aspect model accounts for the dominant register of a text that has been philosophically productive — and interpretatively puzzling — for over three centuries.

Competing interests
The author has no conflict of interest to declare.