Metaphysics is that part of philosophy that studies reality in its most general and fundamental aspects; being qua being as Aquinas put it (In Meta. IV, #530). Yet given the profundity of its subject matter, care needs to be taken in the manner in which metaphysics is introduced to beginners. In his new book, A Contemporary Introduction to Thomistic Metaphysics, therefore, Michael Gorman offers an introduction to metaphysics that is not only ‘roughly Thomistic’ (p. 3) but also ‘in dialogue with, and sometimes in debate with … the … analytic strand of philosophy’ (p. 4).
The first chapter introduces the reader to substances. Substances are ‘basic beings’ that are individual, independent, and unified (p. 21) such as cats, trees, and human beings (p. 19). Substances possess essences that make them what they are (p. 24). These essences are foundational. They do not depend upon ‘any prior feature of the substance’ (p. 27), whereas any further feature the substance possesses depends upon its essence (ibid).
But what are essences? Gorman speaks of ‘the essence of a cat’ (p. 33) and of felinity as ‘a special or privileged kind of feature’ (p. 24). This suggests essence is a thing of some sort. On the other hand, Gorman also speaks of ‘essential features’ (p. 27) such as being feline (ibid.), which suggests ‘essence’ and its cognates simply qualify features. Press further still and Gorman specifies that qualification as normative. What is essential are those features a substance ought to have that in the case of cats, for example, includes having four legs (pp. 33–34).
One might wonder whether normativity and foundationalism are consistent though. Thus, if the essence of cats ought to include having four legs (normativity) and having four legs is the basis of some further feature possessed by cats (foundationalism), then allowing a cat can still be a cat without four legs (normativity), does that same cat still possess the further feature four-leggedness was foundational for? If it does not, then how is it a cat? If it does, then how does it do so without its foundation? Will one not have to abandon normativity or foundationalism?
In chapter three, Gorman discusses the parts of substance. It is a delightful chapter full of fascinating insights. Inevitably, though, questions arise. First, one might query Gorman’s criterion for parthood. Taking a cat as an example he remarks, ‘Anything that belongs to him while not taking up the whole of him can be said to be … part of him’ (pp. 70–71). Surely this is too generous. It is true that a cat is not a circle. In that sense, we could say, admittedly somewhat contentiously, that not being a circle belongs to being a cat. Furthermore, not being a circle is certainly an incomplete description of a cat. So it would appear that not being a circle both belongs to a cat but does not describe the whole of a cat and therefore satisfies Gorman’s criterion for parthood.
Second, Gorman wants to distinguish arbitrary parts from whole-dependent parts. A cat’s tail, Gorman suggests, would be a whole-dependent part, whilst three inches of that same cat’s tail would be an arbitrary part (p. 58). But aside from the fact that plenty of analytic philosophers would insist that a cat’s tail is an arbitrary part, it is far from clear that three inches of a cat’s tail does not also depend upon the whole. After all, it is surely essential to cats that their tails fall within a certain range of sizes; up to a foot in length, we might suppose. But in that case, there will be plenty of cats’ tails with three-inch sections. Granted those sections will not depend upon the whole in precisely the same way that the cat’s tail simpliciter does. Nevertheless, they will still depend on the whole in some way, and that will suffice to render them whole-dependent parts.
In chapter five, Gorman discusses the problem of universals. He thinks universals are entities that are both instantiable or shareable (p. 115) and that are also numerically one (p. 126). Gorman allows for ‘real conspecificity’ (p. 123), that is, real ‘likeness according to kind or species’ (ibid.). This, he thinks, is ‘a fact metaphysics needs to explain’ (p. 120), but he is sceptical that universals need to be postulated in order to do so (p. 127). Gorman’s view, therefore, which he calls ‘moderate nominalism’ (ibid.) and which he thinks might be attributable to Aquinas (pp. 133–134), is that no numerically common entity is needed to secure real agreement in kind.
Unsurprisingly Gorman’s view gives rise to several questions. For instance, to ascertain whether this view is attributable to Aquinas one would have to explore whether the different types of non-numerical unity Aquinas might attribute to the common nature – specific, generic, or even proportional – were consistent with Gorman’s proposal. Furthermore, one might wonder whether Gorman’s account of real conspecificity would satisfy his realist critics. More fundamentally, though, one might ask if such an account is consistent with Gorman’s account of the normativity of essence.
For example, Gorman holds that what makes a cat a cat is that it possesses certain individual features: a hypothalamus, a throat, and so on (p. 122). In other words, what makes a cat a cat is that it has a certain set of individual parts. Cats will be really conspecific, therefore, if each cat has a corresponding set of individual parts. Now imagine two cats, Leo and Squeaky. Leo possesses all the parts a cat ought to possess except for a tail, which sadly he lost in a road traffic accident. Squeaky, on the other hand, wants for nothing; he possesses all the parts a cat ought to possess. However, when we examine Leo and Squeaky according to the criteria for real conspecificity and normativity of essence a difference emerges. Considered according to the criteria for real conspecificity Leo and Squeaky do not belong to the same species because Leo lacks one part – his tail – which Squeaky possesses and any cat needs in order to be a cat. On the other hand, considered according to the criteria for normativity of essence, Leo and Squeaky are both cats because each is such that they ought to have the set of parts which makes a cat a cat. That Leo lacks one such part is unfortunate for Leo but irrelevant to the question of whether he is a cat. Leo is still a cat because he ought to have that part.
The problem is that real conspecificity entails that the individuals in question actually possess a given set of parts. Normativity of essence, however, only requires that the individuals in question ought to possess that same set of parts. Undoubtedly, much more could be said, but there is reason to doubt the consistency of the two theses.
In chapter six, Gorman examines modality. He helpfully delineates the basic modal concepts and then goes on to contrast Plantinga’s and Lewis’s accounts of possible worlds in a clear and succinct way, which will be extremely helpful to beginners. Gorman also offers an agent-centred account of possibility, which is intended to eliminate the need for possible worlds. There one might have pause for thought, however. Gorman’s strategy is to posit ‘an actual agent with infinite power, rooted in an infinite essence’ (p. 158) that renders ‘everything that’s non-contradictory … really possible’ (ibid.). The entity thus posited is obviously God, but it is not so much the positing of God to act as a guarantor of logical possibility that gives rise to the concern. Rather it is whether God, even once demonstrated, can fulfil that task. After all, lying is logically possible; people do it all the time, unfortunately. Yet Geach has pointed out that if Christianity is true then God cannot lie. In which case then, God cannot act as guarantor of every logical possibility.
In the first part of chapter seven, Gorman discusses the categories. He considers what a category is, which categories divide being, and what the ontological statuses of those categories are. Gorman warns against reifying categories (p. 176), and he insists that no category is a ‘strange metaphysical thing’ (ibid.). On the contrary, the different categories of accidents are ‘different ways for a substance to be’ (p. 171). However, this raises a question. Take the category of quantity, for example, and imagine a given substance is six feet long. In what sense is being six feet long a way for a substance to be? If we accept that a substance is composed of whole-dependent parts, then each part of that substance possesses the same nature as any other part – the substantial nature. The extension of those parts, however, is not equal. Being six feet long is merely the sum of the extension of those whole-dependent parts not of the substance itself. Thus substance does not appear to be the sort of thing that can be six feet long. Furthermore, given Aquinas insists potency and act pertain to the same genus of being (ST 1a Q77, art. 1), it could only be the already quantified substance which had a potency for extension. In effect, this claim could only be true of substance considered as being per accidens. Consequently, ascertaining how an accident is a way for a substance to be requires further reflection.
Limitations of space prohibit discussion of chapters two, eight, and nine, which, though fascinating, belong more properly to natural philosophy, natural theology, and theology. Chapter four examines causality, where Gorman does a good job of critiquing Humean and counterfactual accounts of efficient causation whilst also arguing for a broader more Aristotelian account of causality. Overall Gorman’s book is wonderful. Indeed it is excellent, to be highly recommended.
