1. Introduction
Can Spinoza’s notion of consciousness be understood in relation to eternity, or is it confined entirely to duration?Footnote 1 This question has received relatively little attention in the secondary literature, where consciousness is usually treated as a temporal phenomenon bound to the existence of the mind through time.Footnote 2 However, Spinoza uses the word ‘consciousness’ in contexts that suggest a relation not only to duration but also to eternity,Footnote 3 raising the possibility that consciousness may transcend time altogether.
In her insightful paper, Lia Levy (Reference Levy and Yitzhak2017) argues that for Spinoza, consciousness arises exclusively within time. Drawing on a passage from the Ethics in which Spinoza uses the expression ‘cause of consciousness’ (conscientiae causa), she suggests that consciousness is necessarily related to a subject’s temporal existence. In this view, eternal beings cannot be conscious because they fall outside the temporal conditions under which consciousness arises.
This paper challenges this conclusion. While I adopt Levy’s methodological approach – namely, that consciousness must be analysed by investigating its cause – I argue that this line of reasoning, when extended to Spinoza’s account of eternity, also reveals that thinking beings that exist in eternity can be conceived as conscious. Thus, I contend that Spinoza does not exclude eternal consciousness. By clarifying the distinction between the temporal and the eternal causes of consciousness in the Ethics, I show that the intellectual love of God (amor Dei intellectualis) provides the conceptual conditions through which eternal consciousness arises.
This paper is structured as follows. Section 2 considers the uses of the Latin terms ‘conscius’ and ‘conscientia’ in the Ethics, arguing that these terms refer both to the imagination, a temporal form of knowledge, and to the third kind of knowledge, the most adequate and eternal form. The intention is not to offer a comprehensive account of consciousness in the Ethics but to highlight a crucial link between consciousness and eternity that underpins my argument. Section 3 reviews key scholarly interpretations of Spinoza’s notion of consciousness, with a particular focus on Lia Levy’s approach. Section 4 develops the conceptual connection between consciousness and eternity and argues that given Spinoza’s commitment to the Principle of Sufficient Reason – the requirement that every thing’s existence and nonexistence must have a cause – any connection between eternity and consciousness demands inquiry into its eternal cause. Section 5 examines relevant passages in the Ethics that discuss the cause of consciousness and critically assesses Levy’s claim that consciousness is fully explainable only by a durational causal process. Finally, Section 6 presents my thesis that the amor Dei intellectualis provides the causal explanation for consciousness as it exists in eternity.
2. ‘Consciousness’ in the Ethics
In the Ethics, Spinoza uses the Latin words ‘conscius’ and ‘conscientia’ but never formally defines them. As Jon Miller (Reference Miller2007: 208) points out, unlike key concepts such as ‘substance’, ‘attribute’, and ‘intuitive knowledge’, Spinoza leaves ‘consciousness’ unexplained.
This situation presents a peculiar challenge: we must attempt to reconstruct Spinoza’s account of consciousness without being told what it is. As such, scholars have long debated whether Spinoza even has a theory of consciousness; however, no consensus has been reached. This situation is reflected in the opening remarks in Steven Nadler’s famous paper ‘Spinoza on Consciousness’, which claims that ‘most discussions of Spinoza and consciousness conclude either that he does not have an account of consciousness, or that he does have one but that it is at best confused, at worst hopeless’ (Reference Nadler2008: 575).Footnote 4 While Spinoza does not formally define consciousness, his use of ‘conscius’ and ‘conscientia’ points to two main contexts in which the notion appears.
2.1 Consciousness and knowledge
The first context is when Spinoza connects ‘conscius’ and ‘conscientia’ with knowledge. E3p9d, E3p30d, and E3AD1expl, where Spinoza refers to the cause of consciousness, all refer back to E2p19 and E2p23. However, strikingly, the term ‘conscius’ does not appear in either of these latter propositions. Instead, Spinoza uses the Latin verbs ‘scire’ and ‘cognoscere’, both of which have clear epistemological connotations – they are usually translated as ‘to know’. I believe this suggests that for Spinoza, knowledge entails consciousness.Footnote 5 Andrea Sangiacomo makes this point when he observes that E2p23, which states ‘mens se ipsam cognoscit’, could be translated as either ‘the mind is conscious of itself’ or ‘the mind has consciousness of itself’ without altering its meaning (Reference Sangiacomo2011: 80).Footnote 6
But we need to be careful. Consciousness is not a faculty of the mind but of the mind’s inherent features. Spinoza writes that ‘there is in the mind no absolute faculty of understanding, desiring, loving’ (Eth, II, 48, schol.: 483/G, II, 129). Following his nominalist perspective, faculties are universals; that is, they ‘are to this or that idea, or to this or that volition as stone-ness is to this or that stone, or man to Peter or Paul’ (Eth, II, 48, schol.: 483/G, II, 129).
This has important implications for Spinoza’s account of consciousness. Rather than looking for it in a separate faculty of the mind, we must locate it in the very nature of an idea. Since every idea is an ‘act of understanding’ and not ‘something mute, like a picture on a tablet’ (Eth, II, 43, schol.: 479/G, II, 124), Spinoza concludes that there is no ‘other affirmation or negation in the mind except that which the idea involves’ (Eth, II, 48: 484/G, II, 130). Thus, just as the idea of a triangle necessarily affirms that its internal angles equal two right angles (Eth, II, 49, dem.: 484/G, II, 130), so too every idea necessarily affirms its object.Footnote 7
If every idea is an act of understanding, it follows that a temporal idea will involve a temporal act of understanding, while an eternal idea, in contrast, will involve an eternal act of understanding. Therefore, we must differentiate between ‘being conscious of something eternal’ and ‘being conscious in an eternal way’.Footnote 8 This paper argues that eternal consciousness arises when we think of eternal things eternally through the third kind of knowledge.Footnote 9
Since each idea is an act of thought, different kinds of knowledge entail different kinds of consciousness. In E2p40s2, Spinoza divides cognition or knowledge into three kinds: imagination, which derives from sensory experience and signs (such as hearsay and reading); reason, which arises ‘from the fact that we have common notions and adequate ideas of the property of things’ (Eth, II, 40, schol., 2: 478/G, II, 122); and intuitive knowledge, which ‘proceeds from an adequate idea of the formal essence of certain attributes of God to the adequate knowledge of the essence of things’ (Eth, II, 40, schol., 2: 478/G, II, 122). I examine how consciousness varies across these three kinds of knowledge. This illuminates not only the temporal structure of consciousness that is linked to imagination but also the possibility of an eternal form of consciousness that is linked to intuitive knowledge.
2.2 Consciousness and imagination
In E2p19 and E2p23, Spinoza links consciousness to imagination.Footnote 10 All imagination, according to E2p17s, is the effect of external influence. In E2p19, Spinoza argues that we only become aware of our body when it is affected by an external body. For example, when the sun’s rays warm our skin, this affect reveals not only the sun’s presence but also our own body’s existence.
E2p23 extends this reasoning to the mind. Since the mind is the idea of the body (Eth, II, 13: 457/G, II, 96), the mind’s consciousness arises through ideas of these bodily affections. When I feel warmth, I simultaneously form an idea of the sun, my body, and the mind that represents this interaction (Eth, II, 16: 463/G, II, 103). In this way, Spinoza argues that consciousness, in its imaginative form, is a product of the external body’s impingements on our own bodies.
However, this imaginative consciousness is epistemically limited. As Spinoza writes, imagination ‘is the only cause of falsity’ (Eth, II, 41: 478/G, II, 122) precisely because it lacks knowledge of the causes. We are conscious of bodies impinging on us, but we do not know the causes of the affections on our bodies produced by these interactions.Footnote 11 Our ideas of imagination are, as he puts it, ‘conclusions without premises’ (Eth, II, 28, dem.: 470/G, II, 113). In the warmness example, I become aware of both myself and the sun, but only through a confused amalgam that does not reveal the nature of either of these.Footnote 12
Such consciousness results in superficial cognition (Eth, I, App.: 440/G, II, 78; II, 35, schol: 473/G, II, 117). We know our desires and actions, but remain ignorant of their true causes. Spinoza illustrates this by considering an infant who believes that he freely desires milk, unaware that he is, in fact, being compelled to desire it (Eth, III, 2, schol.: 496/G, II, 143). This epistemic condition describes the ignarus, the ignorant person, who knows primarily through imagination, in contrast to the sapiens, the wise person, who understands causes through adequate and eternal ideas.
Interestingly, the distinction between the ignorant and the wise is marked not merely by differing degrees of knowledge but also by differing degrees of consciousness. The wise person, whose ideas are eternal, is more fully conscious. The ignorant person, in contrast, is almost unaware of themself, of things, and of God (Eth, V, 42, schol.: 616–617/G, II, 308). This contrast takes us some way towards the central thesis of this paper; that is, Spinoza allows for a form of consciousness that is not bound to temporality but is itself eternal.
2.3 Consciousness and intuitive knowledge
Spinoza also connects consciousness to the third and highest form of knowledge, namely, intuitive knowledge.Footnote 13 This knowledge reveals the essence of things as they follow from certain attributes of God, and it brings the mind to an epistemic state that cannot be attained through other kinds of knowledge (Garber Reference Garber and Melamed2021: 312). In E5p25, Spinoza writes that ‘[t]he greatest striving of the mind, and its greatest virtue is understanding things by the third kind of knowledge’ (Eth, V, 25: 608/G, II, 296) and that ‘[t]he greatest satisfaction of mind there can be arises from this third kind of knowledge’ (Eth, V, 27: 609/G, II, 297). From this highest form of understanding, there ‘necessarily arises an intellectual love of God’, which is eternal and constitutes our salvation (Eth, V, 36, schol.: 612/G, II, 302).
Crucially, in E5p31s, Spinoza makes an ironclad link between consciousness and this third kind of knowledge. He writes that ‘the more each of us is able to achieve in this kind of knowledge, the more he is conscious of himself, and of God’ (Eth, V, 31, schol.: 610/G, II, 300). This suggests that intuitive knowledge yields a distinct kind of consciousness unavailable through the lower kinds of knowledge. E5p42s confirms this by stating that the wise person (sapiens), who knows by the third kind of knowledge, is conscious ‘by a certain eternal necessity’ (Eth, V, 42, schol.: 617/G, II, 308), a condition that the ignorant person (ignarus) cannot achieve.Footnote 14
I think that this contrast between ‘conscius’ and ‘inscius’ in E5p42s supports my claim that consciousness is closely tied to knowledge. Interestingly, the term ‘inscius’ appears only three times in the Ethics Footnote 15 and always to mark a lack of knowledge.Footnote 16 This supports the lexicographical link between ‘conscius’ and the Latin verbs ‘scire’ and ‘cognoscere’, which both mean ‘to know’. I suggest that consciousness tracks the adequacy of our knowledge: imagination produces a temporal and epistemically inadequate consciousness, while intuitive knowledge produces an eternal and highly adequate consciousness.
The contrast between ‘conscius’ and ‘inscius’ in E5p42s thus confirms that Spinoza’s notion of consciousness is not confined to temporal imagination. Rather, it also refers to a kind of awareness that emerges from knowing causes and, ultimately, from knowing God and in God (Carlisle Reference Carlisle2021b: 149) through the third kind of knowledge and its eternity. The consciousness of the wise person, then, is simply sharing in God’s knowledgeFootnote 17 and is therefore eternal.
2.4 Consciousness and reflexive thought
The second theoretical core of Spinoza’s notion of consciousness appears when he links it to a form of reflexive thought. Spinoza is committed to the view that ideas can take themselves as objects; that is, they can be reflexive or, equivalently, they can create second-order ideas. This reflexivity is often discussed under the rubric of Spinoza’s doctrine of ideas of ideas. One example of this kind of reflexive thought is thinking of a book while also being aware that one is thinking of a book.
A clear connection between consciousness and reflexive thought appears in E4p8d, where Spinoza defines the knowledge of good and evil as the consciousness of certain affects. E4p8d centres on the claim that good and evil are what is useful or harmful to us; that is, ‘what increases or diminishes, aids or restrains, our power of acting’ (Eth, IV, 8, dem.: 550/G, II, 215). Since Spinoza defines joy as that ‘passion by which the mind passes to a greater perfection’ and sadness as ‘that passion by which it passes to a lesser perfection’ (Eth, III, 11, schol.: 500-501/G, II, 149), and since joy and sadness are ideas, it follows from E2p22Footnote 18 that the knowledge of joy and sadness – good and evil – must be the reflexive aspect of the idea. From this, Spinoza concludes that the ‘knowledge of good and evil is nothing but the affect itself, insofar as we are conscious of it’ (Eth, IV, 8, schol.: 551/G, II, 216).
Spinoza’s appeal to consciousness here suggests that to be conscious of an affect is to have an idea of that affect – that is, an idea of an idea. On this reading, consciousness requires a reflexive capacity: for a mind to be conscious, it must be capable of thinking about its own ideas.
3. Theories of consciousness
This reflexive model has led some commentators to interpret Spinoza as offering a robust theory of consciousness. Edwin Curley, for example, sees in Spinoza’s doctrine of the ideas of ideas an account of the theory of consciousness. Curley claims that consciousness begins when we can reflect on our ideas, or when an idea takes another idea as its object (Reference Curley1969: 128). He wants to use the doctrine of the ideas of ideas to distinguish conscious mental states from non-conscious mental states. However, others have argued that the ‘ideas of ideas’ theory cannot establish the doctrine of consciousness in Spinoza since ideas of ideas are united to every mode of thought.Footnote 19 Indeed, for Spinoza, as the order and connection of ideas is the same as that of things (Eth, II, 7: 450/G, II, 89), thought extends everywhere.Footnote 20 Thus, if the reflexivity of ideas were the hallmark of consciousness, then every idea would be a conscious thought.Footnote 21
Against Curley’s proposal, Nadler argues that consciousness is the complexity of the body expressed under the attribute of thought (Reference Nadler2008: 587). Nadler bases his argument on two key passages: E2p13s and E5p39s. While in E2p13s, Spinoza connects the capability of a body to do many things to the capability of its mind to perceive many things at once, in E5p39s, he links the capability of a body to do many things to the degree of consciousness of its mind. While this proposal allows for minds to be more or less conscious (e.g. a jellyfish would be less conscious than a dolphin because of the lesser complexity of its body), this theory is not unproblematic either.Footnote 22 How, for instance, could the complexity of a body determine whether its mind is conscious?
Don Garrett (Reference Garrett and Huenemann2008: 4–25) claims that while complexity can say something about consciousness, it cannot constitute it. According to Garrett, consciousness should be identified with the power of thinking: an idea is conscious when it reaches a certain degree of power. As evidence that consciousness is related to the power of thinking, Garrett draws on the same two passages as Nadler – E2p13s and E5p39s – and also references E5p31s, where Spinoza states, ‘the more each of us is able to achieve in this kind of knowledge, the more he is conscious of himself’ (Eth, V, 31, schol.: 610/G, II, 300).
Garrett’s interpretation is more promising for several reasons. First, it explains why some minds are more conscious than others. If a mind’s consciousness is grounded in its power of thinking, it follows that the greater one’s engagement with the third kind of knowledge, the greater one’s consciousnessFootnote 23 (Eth, V, 42, schol.: 616/G, II, 308). Second, this framework allows for a distinction between conscious and non-conscious mental states: only sufficiently powerful ideas – those that significantly affect the mind – are conscious.Footnote 24
However, this interpretation is not without challenges. Notably, E5p31s and E5p39s are problematic foundations for a general theory of consciousness. These passages address a specific form of consciousness associated with the third kind of knowledge, which pertains exclusively to the eternal part of the mind: the intellect. As Michael LeBuffe aptly observes (Reference LeBuffe2010: 559), the texts Garrett relies on cannot support his broader claims. In particular, E5p39s addresses conscious knowledge, making it unsuitable as a comprehensive account of consciousness.
This survey highlights a persistent challenge scholars face when attempting to attribute a robust theory of selective consciousness to Spinoza. The root of this problem lies in the absence of a formal definition of ‘consciousness’ in any of the passages where the term appears. This absence makes reconstructing Spinoza’s account of consciousness particularly difficult.
Nevertheless, this ambiguity should not discourage us from further investigations. Lia Levy suggests that rather than seeking a definitional account of consciousness in Spinoza, we should investigate its causal structure. In other words, instead of asking what consciousness is, we should ask what its causal explanation is. Her argument is based on the fact that, in the Ethics, we find the expression ‘causa conscientiae’ (‘cause of consciousness’) (Eth, III, AD, 1, expl.: 531/G, II, 190). In that context, Levy explains, Spinoza does not define consciousness, but rather identifies the conceptual conditions under which consciousness emerges. For Levy, this passage supports the view that ‘Spinoza conceives of consciousness as necessarily related to existence in duration, in the sense that only thinking things that exist in duration can be conceived as conscious beings’ (Reference Levy and Yitzhak2017: 189).
I contend that this conclusion is difficult to square with the textFootnote 25 and with what we considered in Section 2.3. How can one argue that the phenomenon of consciousness is only attributable to duration when Spinoza explicitly writes that the wise man, who knows through the third kind of knowledge, is ‘by a certain eternal necessity, conscious of himself, and of God, and of things’ (‘sapiens sui, et Dei, et rerum aeterna quadam necessitate conscius esse’) (Eth, V, 42, schol.: 617/G, II, 308)? While Levy’s focus on causality is helpful, I suggest that it needs to be extended to account for Spinoza’s view that consciousness can transcend duration altogether.
4. Consciousness and eternity
It is impossible to deny the conceptual relationship between consciousness and the mind’s eternity when one examines the co-occurrences of these terms. The first observation that should alert the sceptical reader to the presence of consciousness in eternity is that in Part V of the Ethics, all occurrences of the expression ‘conscius esse’ (‘to be conscious’) are gathered together in the second half of the section (just after proposition 20).Footnote 26 This proposition is rightly considered a crucial juncture in the text, as Spinoza subsequently delves into the third kind of knowledge and the mind’s eternity.
As we have already seen, Spinoza frames the conclusion of the Ethics around an opposition between modes of consciousness: the opposition between the ignorant person who lives quasi inscius (unaware) and the wise person who is conscius (conscious) (Eth, V, 42, schol.: 616-617/G, II, 308). It is in E5p31s, however, that Spinoza makes an ironclad link between consciousness and the mind’s eternity.
Proposition 31 is important because Spinoza establishes there that the third kind of knowledge ‘depends on the mind insofar as the mind itself is eternal’ (Eth, V, 31: 610/G, II, 299). Within the proposition itself, Spinoza maintains that the mind, insofar as it is eternal, is the adequate cause of the third kind of knowledge; in the scholium, he contends that ‘the more each of us is able to achieve in this kind of knowledge, the more he is conscious of himself, and of God’ (Eth, V, 31, schol.: 610/G, II, 300). Given that the third kind of knowledge follows from the eternity of the mind, it is closely linked with the mind’s eternity and its eternal form of consciousness.
However, this conceptual relationship between consciousness and eternity can be understood completely only if the causal relationship between them is established (Della Rocca Reference Della Rocca2008: 1–12). We can genuinely claim to understand the nature of something only if we can assign a cause or reason for its existence and nonexistence.Footnote 27 Accordingly, Spinoza’s notion of consciousness cannot evade the principle of sufficient reason: if we locate a conceptual connection in the text between consciousness and eternity, then we must make explicit the cause which explains the existence of consciousness in eternity. Only then can we make the notion of eternal consciousness fully coherent in Spinoza’s philosophy.
5. Consciousness and its cause
Three expressions in the Ethics are relevant to the cause of consciousness. The first expression indicates that ‘the mind is necessarily conscious of itself through (per) ideas of the body’s affections’ (Eth, III, 9, dem.: 500/G, II, 147). The second expression almost exactly reproduces the first, but changes the subject to the man rather than the mind (Eth, III, 30, dem: 510–511/G, II, 163). The third expression reads as follows: ‘in order to involve the cause of consciousness, it was necessary to add: insofar as it is conceived, from some given affection of it, to be determined, and so on’ (Eth, III, AD, 1 expl.: 531/G, II, 190). Do these propositions tell us anything explicit about the cause of consciousness in eternity?
I believe they do not. While Spinoza connects consciousness with eternity in Part V, these three passages are from Part III, titled ‘Of the Origin and Nature of the Affects’, where consciousness is treated as a durational phenomenon. This is for two main reasons. First, in Part III, Spinoza provides two definitions of affect, both of which relate this notion to change over time.Footnote 28 Second, in E3p9d, Spinoza identifies the object of a conscious mind as the conatus, namely, the essence of a thing as it exists in time.
This leads us to a crucial point. In E3p7, Spinoza explains that conatus is the ‘actual essence of the thing’ (Eth, III, 7: 499/G, II, 146). In this context, ‘actual’ is a temporal notion referring to what exists in relation to a certain time and place.Footnote 29 Conatus, in fact, is the tendency that each thing has to exist for an indefinite time when external circumstances permit this existence (Eth, III, 8: 499/G, II, 147). In a nutshell, a thing’s conatus is not its eternal essence, but its essence as it exists in time. The word refers to a thing’s effort to persist across an indefinite duration. In this respect, conatus is what Spinoza calls the ‘actual essence’ of a thing. By contrast, the ‘formal essence’ of a thing is eternal.Footnote 30 Sometimes, Spinoza explicitly uses the expression ‘formal essence’ to refer to the eternal character of an essence in contraposition to the durational existence of a thing; that is, its conatus. For example, in E2p8, he uses the expression ‘formal essence’ (‘essentia formalis’) to indicate those things that do not exist in duration but only in God’s attributes.Footnote 31
This distinction is key to Levy’s interpretation. In her reading of E3AD1expl (Reference Levy and Yitzhak2017: 197), Levy argues that for Spinoza, consciousness emerges not from the formal constitution of the essence but through a continuous temporal process of its determinations: one affection determines the actual essence that a prior affection in time has already determined.Footnote 32 According to Levy, this interpretative lens helps illuminate why, in E3AD1expl, Spinoza feels compelled to clarify what causes the man to be conscious of his desire.
While we already know that the mind is conscious of its striving (conatus), that this striving, when related to the mind and the body, is termed ‘appetite’, and, finally, that appetite, when conscious, is termed ‘desire’, Spinoza insists on a further specification. He explains that consciousness arises when the human essence is determined by any given affection. Therefore, the essential condition for explaining the onset of consciousness is the presence of a certain affection that determinesFootnote 33 our essence. This conclusion revolves around a notion of ‘cause’ that evokes an ontological dependence – a process between two or more beings that, in this case, are determinations or affections of the essence.
On this view, the cause of consciousness is a structured ontological dependence between successive determinations of the actual aspect of the human essence. In a nutshell, consciousness is always the effect of a chain of determinations of our actual essence. For this reason, Levy argues that understanding the cause of consciousness entails that ‘it is necessary to consider the several configurations that shape the existence in duration of this essence’ (Reference Levy and Yitzhak2017: 199). However, from Levy’s perspective, this implies that ‘Spinoza conceives of consciousness as necessarily related to existence in duration, in the sense that only thinking things that exist in duration can be conceived as conscious beings’ (Reference Levy and Yitzhak2017: 189).
I find Levy’s interpretation compelling and well-supported by textual evidence. The merit of her analysis lies in her identification of the cause of consciousness with ‘an immanent movement of determinations’ of the essence (Reference Levy and Yitzhak2017: 199). She shows that the inside-outside approach, according to which we are conscious only when impinged upon by external bodies, must be replaced by an internal determination of the various constitutions of our actual essence (conatus) insofar as it strives to endure. However, we may yet reject her broader conclusions. For example, can consciousness arise outside the order of duration? Is there, for Spinoza, a kind of consciousness that is not generated by the determination of our temporal essence, but instead arises from our eternal essence?
My claim is that if the cause of consciousness in duration requires us to focus on the internal determination or affection of the actual essence, then a parallel causal structure can be found in eternity, where the formal essence can determine itselfFootnote 34 through its affectionFootnote 35 – namely, the amor Dei intellectualis.
This position, in my view, complements rather than contradicts Levy’s interpretation. It respects Spinoza’s insistence that ‘eternity cannot be explained by duration’ (Eth, I, 8, def.: 409/G, II, 46; Eth, V, 29, dem.: 609/G, II, 298) and thus calls for a dual explanatory framework: one for consciousness as it arises in duration and another for consciousness as it arises in eternity.
6. Amor Dei intellectualis and consciousness in eternity
In the previous section, I showed that for Levy, durational consciousness is the effect of the immanent chain of determinations of the actual essence.Footnote 36 I now want to extend that model to eternity. Indeed, in E3AD1expl, Spinoza argues that the conceptual condition for explaining consciousness is causal determinacy. More specifically, the human essenceFootnote 37 should be considered as determined by its affections, but with the specification that by affection, we understand any constitution of the essence, whether it is innate or has come from outside. The fact that Spinoza uses the word ‘any’ (‘quamcunque’) in reference to the expression ‘constitution of that essence’ suggests that the reference is not only to the temporal constitution of the essence, but that any constitution of the essence, even the eternal or formal, can be considered.
Thus, my claim is that eternal consciousness arises when the human essence, in its formal constitution, is conceived as determined by the amor Dei intellectualis. However, this determination is a self-determination of the essence since the eternal essence is determined by its own affection – its amor Dei intellectualis – which it causes, insofar as it is internally determined,Footnote 38 as its adequate cause rather than being externally determined by fortuitous encounters with things.
In E2p29s, Spinoza explains that when we are not ‘determined externally, from fortuitous encounters with things’, we can be ‘determined internally’ (Eth, II, 29, schol.: 471/G, II, 114). Now, the internal determination Spinoza refers to is nothing but the causal efficacy of the formal constitution of our essence. Spinoza believes that the essence of a thing is expressed by its definition (Eth, I, 33, schol., 1: 436/G, II, 74). Both the essence and the definition have a precise structure or constitution. However, since ‘from everything which exists some effect must follow’ (Eth, I, 36, dem.: 439/G, II, 77), just as certain properties follow from the definition of a thing, certain effects follow from the formal essence of a thing.Footnote 39 Consequently, when a thing is considered regarding its formal essence, or as Charlie Huenemann writes, ‘in isolation from his particular surroundings, circumstances, ancestors, and descendants’ (Reference Huenemann, R.J. and C.1999: 235), it can be considered the adequate cause of all the effects that follow from itself.
To be an adequate cause is to have within oneself everything needed to understand adequately a certain effect as a necessary consequence of that cause (Eth, III, def., 1: 492/G, II, 139). In other words, when we are the adequate cause of a certain effect, that effect follows from the formal constitution of our essence insofar as the essence has complete ownership of it, since it is not determined by something from the outside. Indeed, all the effects that follow from our essence considered in its formal constitution belong to us precisely because they are properties determined by our nature, in the same way that it is a property of a triangle that the sum of its interior angles is equal to two right angles.
Spinoza also speaks of affects as things that can follow either entirely from our own nature – insofar as we are their adequate cause – or because we are partial causes – insofar as we are their inadequate cause (Eth, III, def., 2: 493/G, II, 139). Alexander Douglas’s excellent paper on how to make passions active puts the point in this way. Douglas writes that according to Spinoza, ‘a subject, S, is the adequate cause of an affect, A, if A can be clearly and distinctly understood through S’ (Reference Douglas2019: 241). For Douglas, ‘through’ refers to predication: ‘a mode is understood through the substance of which it is the mode. A quality is understood through the object of which it is a quality’ (Reference Douglas2019: 241). The same meaning must then apply to the affects: when we ‘form a clear and distinct idea of an affect, we make it our action’, and we thus ‘understand the affect to be predicated of us, belong to us – to really be ours’ (Reference Douglas2019: 242). ‘An affect, then’, Douglas concludes, ‘is our action if we understand it to be predicated of us. It is our passion if we don’t understand it as belonging to us’ (Reference Douglas2019: 242).
I contend that the deduction of the amor Dei intellectualis shows exactly what Alexander Douglas argues in his paper; that is, the possibility for the human essence conceived in its formal constitution to be the adequate cause of an affect of which it has full ownership insofar as it can be predicated of it.Footnote 40 For this reason, I argue that the amor Dei intellectualis is the affection of the essence that determines the human essence, and is thus responsible for the causal process from which eternal consciousness arises.Footnote 41 To see this more clearly, let us consider how Spinoza deduces the amor Dei intellectualis from our essence and whether it is true that our essence is its formal cause.Footnote 42
After E5p20s, Spinoza’s Ethics deals with the third kind of knowledge, the mind’s eternity, its beatitude, and the deduction of amor Dei intellectualis. Regarding this last point, Spinoza’s statement in E5p32c is clear: from the third kind of knowledge arises a ‘joy accompanied by the idea of God as its cause, that is, love of God’ (Eth, V, 32, cor.: 611/G, II, 300). The deduction of the amor Dei intellectualis is grounded in two main theoretical elements: joy and love (Matheron Reference Matheron1997: 236; Melamed Reference Melamed2019: 227–228).
Regarding joy, E5p32d refers the reader to E5p27, where Spinoza writes that ‘the greatest satisfaction of mind there can be arises from this third kind of knowledge’ (Eth, V, 27: 609/G, II, 297). E5p27d involves multiple steps. First, Spinoza states that ‘the greatest virtue of the mind is knowing God or understanding things through the third kind of knowledge’ (Eth, V, 25: 608/G, II, 296). This greatest virtue takes the form of a passage to the greatest human perfection. However, since Spinoza defines the passage from a lesser to a greater perfection as a joy (Eth, III, AD, 2: 531/G, II, 191), he can assert here that this greatest virtue is a joy. However, given that the idea of oneself accompanies this joy as its cause, this joy is self-esteem (Eth, III, AD, 25: 536/G, II, 196). How can Spinoza state that this joy is self-esteem?
It is extremely interesting to note Spinoza’s use of E2p43 in E5p27d, in this initial stage of the deduction of the amor Dei intellectualis, to establish that the consciousness inherent in the true idea leads us to contemplate ourselves as the real cause of our joy. Why does Spinoza employ E2p43 in this way? The reason can be found in the fact that Spinoza here establishes that the consciousness of an idea is inherently tied to a true idea, which is explained through the nature of the human mind (Eth, II, 43, dem.: 479/G, II, 123). Once we have a true idea, we are aware that we have it and that we are its cause.Footnote 43 If, however, we are the cause of this kind of knowledge and of the joy that results from an awareness of this, we rejoice, for we are aware that we are the cause of that passage that has brought us to the greatest perfection.
At this juncture, we encounter an affect of joy that is intertwined with consciousness of ourselves as its cause. This suggests that we encounter an active affect that inherently involves consciousness and can be, as Alexander Douglas observed, predicated of us insofar as we are its adequate cause. Does this bring us to the solution we sought – namely, the deduction of consciousness in eternity? In short: no. Spinoza indeed deduces our greatest joy from us as the cause of this joy, but it is equally true that he characterises this joy as a transitio (passage) in this phase regarding the deduction of intellectual love. We have not yet arrived at the point where we experience an affect that is not a temporal passage. Let us consider, then, how Spinoza demonstrates that this joy is an eternal love that bears the name of amor Dei intellectualis.Footnote 44
As we can see from our current analysis, in E5p27d, Spinoza highlights the autonomy that the individual achieves through the third kind of knowledge. This form of knowledge generates ‘the greatest joy’, which arises from the awareness that the individual is the cause of their own happiness. However, given that the third kind of knowledge necessarily implies both knowledge of God and knowledge that we are in God (Eth, V, 30: 610/G, II, 299), in E5p32 and its demonstration, Spinoza reintroduces the notion of God as the cause of the greatest pleasure arising from the third kind of knowledge. This arises from the fact that whatever we understand by the third kind of knowledge generates joy within us, accompanied by the idea of God as the cause of that joy. In the subsequent corollary to the same proposition, Spinoza explicitly states that the joy in question is, in fact, love – specifically, the amor Dei intellectualis (Eth, V, 32, cor.: 611/G, II, 300). How does Spinoza move from (temporal, internally caused) joy to the (eternal) intellectual love of God? This transition is possible because love is simply joy accompanied by the idea of its cause. As Clare Carlisle aptly observes, ‘love always has a cognitive element since it involves the idea of a cause’, and this characteristic ‘generates a threefold taxonomy of love’ (Carlisle Reference Carlisle and Melamed2021a: 442). Joy can be attributed to a cause that we know through imagination, reason, or intuition; the love of God belongs to the last category. Spinoza thus refers to God’s eternal love as the intellectual love of God.
Nonetheless, it is interesting to examine how Spinoza demonstrates that the eternity of the third kind of knowledge causes eternal love. If we consider E5p33, which aims to demonstrate the eternity of this intellectual love, we see that, because the third kind of knowledge is eternal, ‘the love that arises from it must also be eternal’ (Eth, V, 33: 611/G, II, 300). However, the demonstration’s internal references are of significant importance: they reaffirm that it is firmly rooted in the mind alone. By referring back to E5p31, Spinoza demonstrates the eternity of this love through the third kind of knowledge, which depends on the mind as its formal or adequate cause (as the mind is itself eternal) (Eth, V, 31: 610/G, II, 299). Therefore, the steps leading to the demonstration of the eternity of the amor Dei intellectualis are as follows: (1) our mind is eternal, (2) the third kind of knowledge is eternal,Footnote 45 and (3) the love arising from it is eternal. We can thus see that the mind’s eternity is the formal cause on which the eternity of knowledge and love depend.
7. Conclusion
We have now reached our sought-after goal: the demonstration of a cause of consciousness in eternity. I contend that the amor Dei intellectualis is the eternal affection of which the mind is the formal or adequate cause insofar as it is eternal and the source from which the highest attainable form of consciousness arises. We saw that by E3AD1expl, the conceptual condition that accounts for the rise of consciousness must be a causal process where the human essence is determined by its affection. According to Levy, this causal process is the immanent chain of determinations of the actual essence (Levy Reference Levy and Yitzhak2017: 200). In other words, a temporal constitution of the human essence causally determines the successive constitutions of the same essence in time. In the previous section, I argued that this causal process can also be found in eternity.
In eternity, consciousness is the causal effect of a determination of the human essence, but in this case, the affection determining the essence is the amor Dei intellectualis. This affection, however, is of the human essence in the sense that, as Alexander Douglas suggests, it is predicated of it or belongs to it because no external determination concurs in its explanation. This interpretation is reinforced by E5p38, which states that the more adequate ideas the mind has, ‘the less is acted on by affects which are evil’ (Eth, V, 38: 613/G, II, 304), that is, that ‘are contrary to our nature’ (Eth, V, 38, dem.: 613/G, II, 304). Thus, the only eternal affect that can truly count as an affect of the essence is the intellectual love of God, as the intellectual love of God necessarily follows from the nature of the mind (as it is considered an eternal truth). Nothing in nature can take it awayFootnote 46 (Eth, V, 37: 613/G, II, 303).