These figures, structures, and beliefs serve to represent a large part of the common understanding of medieval theology, and are by no means exhaustive, but are fundamental to its development over the centuries. All of these factors worked together to shape the theological landscape and the structure of the church at the time leading up to the reformation. The church adopted the rationalistic way of thinking to develop their doctrines, the authority of previous fathers in the church to justify them, and the scholastic method to produce and publish them.

What underscored the theology of Thomas Aquinas, as well as other Fathers such as Augustine, the scholastic method, and the relationship between faith and reason was the usage of Platonic terminology and the acceptance of the existence of universals as a metaphysical worldview. These beliefs were so ingrained into the theology at the time that nobody even had the language to argue otherwise. When the church spoke about the relation that faith has to reason, for example, that terminology implies that there is a subject/object framework when dealing with the concept of faith, that reason is a capacity/function of man, part of his ontological nature, and finally, that there is a universal of “relationship” itself that is used to conjoin these two terms.

These ideas began to change during the mid 14th century due to a few key figures of the medieval period. Durandus of Saint-Pourçain was notable in his disagreement with views of previous medievals like Aquinas and Bonaventure, arguing that the universal is not an entity that can be divided, but only exists in the individual mind. Pierre Auriol was another who rejected the accepted metaphysical view of the time, denying that the essence of an object is in participation with the observer’s mind, but rather only its appearance, which is a separate construction. These new ideas marked an ideological shift in the culture, and the landscape was starting to accept these new views that ran completely opposite the established norm. The philosophy of Plato and Aristotle was no longer assumed, and while this change was slowly developing in several areas at once, the person who contributed the most to push it forward was William of Ockham.

Ockham would develop this changing view, now called nominalism, to the point where it started contradicting many established doctrines of the Roman Church and served as a foundation for what would later become the Reformation. Almost two hundred years before the Reformation was in full swing, Ockham was presenting philosophical ideas that, when taken to their logical conclusions, clearly resulted in similar theology to that of the reformers. Ockham continued off of the thought of his time, first denying that the essence of universals exists and reaches the mind. He says, “No universal is existent in any way whatsoever outside the mind of the knower” He argued that “universals” were really mental ‘signs’ that occurred in the individual mind. The only existence was the thing that the individual was perceiving, and what was previously considered “essence” was just the framing of that thing in the mind of the individual. He calls this perception “intuitive” knowledge, arguing that the only complete knowledge of a thing we can have of it is by our perception of its “contingent truths”, which are aspects of the object’s existence, similar to the ancient’s understanding of “accidents”.

This philosophy merges with theology when Ockham turns the subject of knowledge to God, as he argues that, because God cannot be known or perceived in His entirety, He cannot be known by any natural means, but only because of His revelation by Scripture. And the only way we can deduce that Scripture gives an accurate representation of God to us is by faith. He then argues that God can implant intuitive knowledge about other things, including universals (whether they exist or not) within people’s minds. In fact, every quality that is to the soul is bestowed by God, including knowledge of its own existence.2

The result of this new way of thinking was that the previous understanding of the relationship reason had with faith was shattered. There had always been an acknowledgement that reason is incapable of lifting up the individual completely to God, a departure of some kind from the Platonists,3 but the role that faith played was a leap that one had to take in order to bridge the gap between a person’s knowledge that they knew by reason, and the divine mysteries of God. The Ockhamists, on the other hand, separated the two completely, making them differences of categories. Faith was not just a conductor to bridge reason with truth, but it was the impetus for everything that a person could begin to know or think, especially when it came to Scriptural and theological truths. They not only separated faith from knowledge, but faith from reason itself, contrary to the Augustinians4 of the period who believed that faith and knowledge were not mutually exclusive, and even more so faith and reason.

There are many other influential philosophies from Ockham and the other late medieval theologians, but the separation of faith from reason and the newfound emphasis of the words of Scripture are the ones that serve as a foundation for many future doctrines that would develop during the Reformation. It is not necessarily that they were reformatory in themselves, but that the theology that Luther and the other reformers emphasized was a natural continuation of that begun by the late medievals. This can be seen in three important dogmas: Justification by faith alone, Papal authority, and the Sacramental theology of the reformation.

Luther’s understanding of justification by faith alone works as he understands faith as laying hold of the promise of grace, relying on God’s mercy. Luther places all the work on God, and uses faith as a way to indicate the believer’s possession of this truth. Luther says concerning justification in his work On the Spirit and the Letter (XVII) “Justification is the remission of sins, which has to do only with faith.” This change in understanding not only relied on the adjusted view of faith as a massive leap across the chasm of human incapabilities, but also reflects the view of grace held by the Ockhamists in opposition to Thomism. This is because grace, similarly to faith, was now something that could not have been known or understood in part on account of human reason, but only by the intuition that God gives. This moved grace out of the intellectual realm, and now it was in the purlieu of the Christian believer, rather than that of the Christian thinker. Grace was not something infused, being able to be understood or attained part by part, but the complete work of God used to justify and save His creation. The results of this way of thinking led to a reduction of speculation, emphasizing the revealed knowledge of God, but also stressing that what is not revealed is completely unknown.5 This results in making faith the only primary quality of a person to latch onto these gifts and promises, a central tenet of the Reformation.

While the doctrine of justification by faith alone was central to the Reformation, an equally contentious issue was the matter of magisterium. Because of the certain tinge of skepticism that the nominalism of the late medievals brought, they were already starting to question certain authorities of the church. Determinism6 led to the beginning of a separation of church and state, and the authorities held up to be valid according to human reason were losing their credibility for the late medievals. Schaff writes in a history of the Christian Church, “The final seat of authority, this thinker found in the Scriptures. Truths such as the Trinity and the incarnation cannot be deduced by argument…Popes and councils may err. The Bible alone is inerrant.” These views again arise from the belief that nothing can be truly known without God’s revelation, and stood starkly against the increase in propositional philosophy used to justify theological dogmas within the church. These arguments are clearly precursory to what Luther would eventually teach, and Luther would even cite Ockham as a teacher and influence (Weimar, ed. VI. 183, 196, 600).

Another result of the influence that the late medieval nominalism would have on Luther and the reformers was that the view of the sacraments began to change. Prior to the reformers, there were two prevailing orders that each had their own sacramental theology. These were the Dominicans and the Fransiscans, championed by Aquinas and Bonaventure, respectfully. The Dominicans held a more supernatural view of the sacraments, where there were spiritual elements added to the physical substances upon the introduction of the word. These spiritual elements would include universal forms that the person would participate in, leading to, as they believed, a closer relationship with God through this participation in the divinely ordained benefits. The Fransiscans, on the other hand held that the sacraments were efficacious through the will of God, but that the means played less of a role. This made the participation of the person a spiritual matter rather than a physical, at least when the efficacy was considered. This is closer to the determinism of the later medievals, but still placed the focus of the will on the philosophical knowledge of God, rather than on His Word.

The Lutheran view would mediate the two, by taking both in a different direction. It placed the efficacy of the sacraments on the Word of God, but neither in a supernatural way nor in a spiritual way. The sacraments were beneficial because of the promise attached to them, which could only be grasped by faith. This did not negate the importance of the physical means, however, as they were part of the method used by God to distribute the grace received by the sacraments, and were entailed in the promise given by His Word instituting them in the first place. Ockham, in the eucharist, would place the physical elements at the side of the body of Christ, approaching Luther’s doctrine of consubstantiation. It did not replace the physical elements by supernatural powers, nor did it reduce the substance of the sacraments to only an extension of the will of God, but rather pointed to it as it was. And this substance was exactly what was prescribed by Christ in Scripture, something that could only be held on to by faith.

There are many areas where the theology of the late medieval nominalists influenced Luther and the reformers. From a broad perspective, they completely changed the entire landscape of philosophy, cutting down previously assumed ideas held by the ancients centuries prior, making way for an entire new structure of looking at the world to take place. It is difficult to say how much of a direct effect this philosophy had on all of Luther’s doctrines, but it is extremely obvious that the results and natural progression of nominalism led to Luther making conclusions about faith, Scripture, and the mysteries of God that would significantly influence his theology.

One final point to make concerning the relationship between the medievals and Luther was that they served different roles according to their personalities. Luther might have had similar ideas to Ockham, but not the same disposition, being someone who took action rather than staying in the realm of theory. This is what separates the two eras fundamentally, as the medievals, while paving the way for the reformation, are forever categorized as they are due to their lack of significant follow through on their ideas.

“Disney did not destroy Star Wars. It is carrying the original torch with pride.” This is the closing sentence to the article titled “Don’t Blame Disney. Star Wars Has Always Been Terrible”. It is clear that the article is intentionally provocative with the hopes of getting clicks and engagement by trying to find a unique angle to a topic that has been explored thoroughly. When I clicked on it, I expected the usual banter about Disney’s destruction upon the franchise that is beloved by millions.

What I found, however, was an attack on the very foundation of Star Wars, critiquing the inception of the franchise and assuming that it was in any way comparable to the drivel that has been spit out by Disney for the past nine years.

The problem with this article is the source, published on The Federalist, a broadly right wing organization. The surprise is that Lucas’ Star Wars is commonly praised by members of the right wing, with massive figures like Ben Shapiro upholding it as a quality film. Suddenly attacking it and trying to argue that from its first beginnings Star Wars has always been “terrible” is a bold and controversial take.

So why is this a problem? Who cares if someone who has only a handful of published works writes an article that I don’t like? There are several reasons why this article in particular is representative of a greater problem that plagues both journalism as a whole, and right-wing media in particular. The quality of the “journalism” is extremely poor, with a smug provocative title displayed with a highly pretentious tone. This in itself is not a bad thing, unless, of course, the article is full of fallacies, inconsistencies, and misinformation. But even this is far from uncommon on the internet, with there being no universal standard for what is allowed to be made public online, so from this view, other than an offense to quality writing, it is not committing any other crime. The real issue is from the perspective from which this article is being promoted. Instead of the quality reflecting poorly on the author alone, now it reflects on both the website which endorsed the work, and the movement which the publication is a part of.

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These objections do not appear to have really caused too many problems for either the success of the film, or the enjoyment of the majority of viewers. The screentime of each character accused of making the movie “woke” was not enough for the majority of viewers to remember, the attention that IMAX received, as well as the lack of decline in sales showed that the film attracted and captivated many people by its cinematography, and the “historical inaccuracies” (many of which directed at King Agamemnon) were forgotten in favor of a focusing on his “aura”.

Upon the official release, a new critique arose that found itself based upon the full material of the film rather than preliminary images from the trailers. What seems to be a larger concern among more niche groups (that is, given the fact that the historical world of classics is now considered “niche”) is not this critique of “wokeness” but rather a multifaceted argument that considers the faithfulness, not only to the source material of the original epic, but also to the main character, theming, and direction of the story. Articles with titles such as “Film Critic with a Classics Degree Sees the Odyssey”, “How Should an Odysseus Be?”, “The Odyssey (2026) is guilty of everything Emily Wilson was wrongly accused of”, or simply just “The Dark Herald Does Not Recommend: The Odyssey (2026)” all attack the film on this basis. The criticisms are less focused on the previous complaints driven by the trailer, and instead are narrowed on the direction taken of the character, and are driven by a complex that wishes to accuse the director of the same pretentiousness they themselves are guilty of. This will be explored later, but first there are a few qualifications to this discourse that these articles assume, yet do not articulate. They will be articulated below.

Whether for good or for bad, it is nearly impossible for one to divorce the content of the movie from the director. This is not to say that nobody is capable of viewing the film on its own merit and enjoying it on the basis of what is presented. What it does say, however, is that any review or critique of the film must face the reality that this is Nolan’s adaptation of the Odyssey, and therefore it contains all the context and baggage of something contained in Nolan’s matrix (hermeneutical system by which all his ideas are contained).

What does this mean? It means that when discussing the film, it has context more than just its relation to the original poem; now it is contextual with the rest of Nolan’s filmography, his previous screenplays, and his relation to the broader culture of Hollywood. Critiques about the movie no longer are critiquing “The Odyssey”, but rather they are critiquing “Nolan’s Odyssey”. Complaints about character motivation and substance are not complaints about what is presented on the screen, but they are complaints over one specific person’s interpretation of how these things are supposed to be.

This may sound obvious, and it does present a logical conclusion that is apparent to many people: of course a critique of something will reflect and involve the creator of that thing. It is far from a groundbreaking conclusion, but it is one that is important for those reading or writing reviews of a movie to consider. There are a few reasons for this. First and foremost, shifting the conversation into the critique of a specific person’s interpretation is a far different conversation than the formulaic critique of how something adheres to another (how a movie adaptation adheres to the source material). In this case, any objection to the Odyssey that attempts to judge it on its lack of adherence to the source material has already presupposed an interpretation of the story that it holds to over and above this new one being presented. The argument can quickly shift into subjectivity, and if a proper hermeneutical method is not developed by which one can base their own interpretation over another’s, it makes it difficult to take one’s objections at face value. As a note, this is not arguing over the subjectivity of a text in every scenario, this article is not advocating for a deconstructivist relativism on every product because everything can be relegated to one’s experience. There are, however, two points that should be made regarding this topic.

1. An adequate critique of this film should not presuppose one “correct” view of the story. This is not to say that there is no “correct” view, but rather, that sufficient support should be presented for the rationale behind why the reviewer’s interpretation is being held as the status quo, and that Nolan’s interpretation is wrong because they do not line up.

2. The previous point mainly exists for the sake of coherence. It serves to show that many who accuse Nolan of being “pretentious” are in fact guilty of the same behavior. This point is not a rebuttal of objections being brought up against Nolan, instead it is in support of Nolan’s direction. The medium of the Odyssey has always been one that is heavily dependent upon the storyteller, personal interpretation plays a greater role than in almost any other ancient text. Nolan keeps this spirit alive.

As many “scholars” will be quick to point out, the Odyssey was not initially passed down in written form, indeed Nolan recognizes this with his inclusion of Travis Scott’s “Bard” character. This means that from its inception, the Odyssey as a story was a highly subjective narrative that would have relied significantly on the interpretation of the one presenting it. Again, this is not to argue for the subjectivity of ancient texts, but it is to say that Nolan’s move in conforming the text to his vision is not so grievous that it spits in the face of the original work. Added variables such as line delivery or actor portrayal and license only magnify this fact. While the film goes “off script” in a few cases, there are other cases where the actors may be delivering the same lines from the text and yet convey an entirely different meaning only by virtue of their style or performance.

The goal with this point is not to dismiss every accusation brought up against the Odyssey and retreat to relativism in order to effectively dodge any attack while simultaneously not making any progress. The goal is to lead into a more central argument, which is this: Christopher Nolan embodies traditional and historic themes, not in his portrayal, but in his behavior. This can be seen, not in the story or the script, but in the process and execution.

One aspect of the Odyssey that is often neglected in performative academic outrage over the adaptation is the end to which the character Odysseus was supposed to emulate. There have been countless criticisms that Odysseus is not “crafty” enough, and that his character is emotionally troubled, has PTSD, or even is supposed to be another “Oppenheimer”. These claims are not without their merritt either, as these aspects are all present to some degree in the film (it can also be argued that Odysseus still did receive recognition as the thinker rather than the fighter reflected in the praise he receives for his idea of the Trojan Horse). But rather than focus on how Odysseus behaves, one might do well to consider why he behaves how he does. This is the piece that is often missing: Odysseus and his cleverness were portrayed the way they were in the original tellings as a model for Greek youth, that his story may serve as a manual for how they were to live. There are many lessons present in the narrative, and the cultural context creates an explanation for his behavior. While having multiple affairs over the course of a decade while his wife waits at home may not be something to aspire to in the current age, it was perfectly acceptable in its cultural context. When Nolan makes the changes he does, it is to serve a larger message that he wishes to push, which itself is an act that does bring his telling closer to the telling of the bards. Whatever can be said about Nolan, two things are extremely clear: First, that he invests such a significant amount of time and research into his projects that any deviation from the source material is almost certainly intentional, and not due to ignorance. Second, that Nolan is also certainly aware of the impact his films have on audiences, and also aware of the influence that he carries.

So from this it can be gleaned that Nolan is using his position as a filmmaker to underscore his vision of the story, and tell it in a way that inspires a certain type of behavior within the audience. When Odysseus shows guilt over his violation of “Zeus’ law”, audiences are supposed to relate to the message, rather than empathize with the character. Odysseus is not supposed to be a complex, flawed character (even if he is one), but he is supposed to represent actions and consequences of these actions. Nolan’s changes to Odysseus’ perceived character recognize this fact and live it out.

Finally, Nolan inspires his audience with more than just his portrayal of character, but he himself sets the example through the process of the film. Before aspiring to complex storytelling, personal vision, or even “accuracy” to source material, the film aspires to, above all excellence. There are countless ways in which Nolan demonstrates his desire and passion to reach excellence. The cinematography reflects this with its traditional set pieces and realistic settings. It reflects it in the musical score (which is something few have complained about, and often with very weak criticism). It reflects it in the exclusive use of IMAX and the lack of AI or green screens. Nolan sought to portray an epic in the highest form possible. No, he was not trying to “copy Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings” by having his own epic as some have suggested, instead, he is using the Odyssey as the canvas by which he can paint an example of excellence. In this, he succeeds. If he fails on an aspect that someone who has neglected to consider excellence in favor of their pride in knowing the original epic better than someone else, then he has certainly not lost much. It is for these reasons that “The Odyssey” is a worthy film that accomplishes what it sets out to, and provides not only entertainment, but inspiration to its audience in a way that lies below the surface.

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Kierkegaard begins by recognizing the historical context of his discussion within the text itself in the first section. He shows that he is working within a context where Christianity is already generally assumed by both the speculative and non-speculative. “And yet, something is after all assumed: Christianity is assumed as given…now it is to make oneself suspect to venture to doubt that one is a Christian.” (Kierkegaard, Existence and Subjectivity, p2.) He makes this qualification clear to establish a framework by which he can relate to his audience. The rest of the argument is essentially a study on the substance of Christianity.

Even before he can begin this study on Christianity, however, Kierkegaard must first qualify another definition to create the framework. This is the difference between the objective and subjective mode of existence. An objective mode of existence as used by Kierkegaard is not just a universal standard of a thing, but rather a thing tied to an outside object that must be attained by the subject. That is, if Christianity is objective, then it is found outside the person speculating. This would then require the observer of such a thing to be objective in the sense that he is using a universal standard to determine the validity of the existence of that outside thing. This causes a circular argument. In order to make this understanding clear, one would have to either assume their own objectivity, or the objectivity of Christianity, both of which are subjective claims. So Kierkegaard says that Christianity must start with a subjective claim that can be used to justify its objective. This is the trap that those who try to speculate on Christianity without first assuming it fall into.

The way Kierkegaard proves that this is the case is to show that it is a contradiction for a speculative Christian to accurately speculate on Christianity in order to define it in the first place: “[the invisible Church] cannot be observed objectively at all, since it exists only in the subjectivity of the individuals.” (Kierkegaard, Existence and Subjectivity, p6.) Instead, a Christian must speculate on the assurance assented to by faith. This is the process done by someone who speculates while assuming Christianity (it should also be noted that this is different from someone who merely assumes Christianity and fails to speculate further). In this case, assuming Christianity by faith, which is a subjective act, allows one to speculate on the object of the faith, and come to the conclusion that pure speculation “Cannot acquire the same significance for him as faith.” (Kierkegaard, Existence and Subjectivity, p8)

The final perspective Kierkegaard examines is from the speculative philosopher who is not a believer. This is the perspective that has the most relevance for modern society. Kierkegaard says that the goal of this philosopher is “to become more objective, thus vanishing from himself and becoming what might be called the contemplative energy of philosophy itself.” The problem he has with this approach is that it does not lead to right happiness. Kierkegaard says that personal happiness (an objective thing sustained by the truths of Christianity) is a higher desire for man than speculative happiness, which is a possibility of an illusion attained by removing oneself from the subject as much as possible.

Kierkegaard does not think it is possible for someone to base their happiness on pure speculation, as it would either require one to be divorced from their own subject (in the case of the non-christian), or, in the case of the Christian, to become ‘comical’ due to the fact that speculation for the Christian already assumes the subjectivity of faith as seen above. To speculate without having first made the assumption of the subjective is to seek an object that is unknowable. The subject will always be interested in the highest form of happiness, and denying the subject itself only impedes this goal.

This is where Kierkegaard is applicable today. He essentially proves within his system that speculation must serve the individual subject. He has shown that the most consistent, as well as happiest, party, is that which assumes Christianity before speculating on it. This group has become a minority in recent times, with many falling into the trap of assuming speculation itself to be the objective thing to be reached. This leads to, at best, logical contradictions, and at worst, a complete hopelessness that cannot reach ultimate happiness. If everyone were to follow Kierkegaard’s line of thought, there would almost certainly be more speculative Christians. As it stands, however, modernity only shows the result of neglecting Kierkegaard's thought.

While this may be the end point of Spinoza’s work, the beginning starts with an examination of religion as an obstacle to this goal. In the preface, he states “This [aim of the treatise] will require me to describe the main prejudices about religion, i.e. the remnants of our former bondage.” He attributes the problems that require the treatise to organized religion’s lack of conviction in what it prescribes of others. “‘Piety’. . . .and ‘religion’ consist in absurd mysteries; and (this is the worst thing) the people who scorn reason and reject the intellect as inherently corrupt are just the ones who are thought to have the divine light. If they actually had even a tiny spark of divine light, they wouldn’t go in for such pompous ranting, and would instead get into the way of worshiping God more wisely, and would be notable for their love rather than, as now, for their hate…I can’t see that they have taught anything but Aristotelian and Platonic theories, adjusted to square with the Bible so that they wouldn’t seem to be dedicated pagans. Not content with joining the Greeks in craziness, they have wanted the prophets to rave along with them! This clearly shows that they don’t see—don’t even dream of seeing—the divinity of Scripture. The more they wonder at these mysteries, the more they show that they don’t believe the Bible—they merely say yes to it.” [8-9] This section contains several important ideas that are essential to understanding his motives, worldview, and approach to philosophy. The first and foremost of which is Spinoza’s contempt for certain religious practices which he deems to be hypocritical and unhelpful. The second is his classification of religion as an agent of hate.These are ideas that are echoed today to great effect. Instead of attacking the doctrines of Christianity, opponents will point to certain scandals within the church. They will accuse religion as a vessel by which to spread hateful ideas without understanding the ideas themselves. They purposely ignore the positive messages in favor of outliers that help compose the case against it. 

Spinoza’s goal with attacking religion in this way is more devious than a frontal assault on the institutions that propagate it. Instead, he works subversively to strip any divinity from the Scriptures, and reduce religion to a therapeutic tool used to vaguely guide culture. “Spinoza intends to show that in that moral message alone—and not in Scripture’s words, origin or history—lies the sacredness of what is otherwise merely a human document. The Bible teaches only “obedience [to God]”, not knowledge.”-Plato Stanford. This position is a bigger threat to the Christian faith than a direct denial such as the nihilism notated by Nietzhe. Spinoza’s path leads to the same endpoint, but starts at a location much more comfortable to those who are immersed in the Scriptures already. He uses familiar language that keeps many of the same ideas as the text, but warps them in a way to where they are useless to the religious life. 

Spinoza’s introduction and justification for his argument props up noble causes and intentions to take the schools of thought he discusses seriously. He strives to understand the primary texts of the religions he attacks, yet even this is done disingenuously. Spinoza argues that modern (for his time) Christianity is only a disguise that hides the platonic nature of ancient philosophies. In order to perform a proper analysis of the Scriptures, their dogma should be contrasted against the philosophies of the ancients. Instead, Spinoza believes that his own exposition of metaphysis is correct, which includes the nature of God. If the God of the Bible does not fit into this model, then it cannot be authoritative or true. The problem with Spinoza’s schema of God is that it is completely rational, that is, proceeds from the rationalist school of thought that uses human intelligence and reason to conclude universal truths about the world. This means that, at best, it is subject to criticism from outside authors who are able to view and critique the logic used to reach the conclusion, and at worst, can be discredited immediately as a corrupted approach with no substance to lean on. 

Spinoza’s metaphysics is the basis for his epistemology, psychology, and, more importantly, ethics. What connects all these views together is his necessitarianism, an amped up type of naturalism and fatalism, that denies free will not only in all created things, but in God as well. Infecting not only his metaphysics, the necessitarianism severely impacts his study of man, forcing him into a box that he is incapable of breaking out of. Worse still, Spinoza believes that all created things are part of one essence, resulting in panpsychism. These views in themselves are only problematic to other rationalist philosophers, like Leibniz, who disagree with Spinoza’s categorization. The main concern is that Spinoza holds these doctrines while also speaking about man and how he should behave. His view of man itself is twisted, an application of the conatus doctrine, that being an effort or striving attributed to bodies and nature generally (Baldwin Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology). Here a contradiction already emerges with the seeking of a goal within man contrasted with his inability to act outside of ‘the essence’, which we will soon see is how he defines everything there is. 

Suddenly, Spinoza’s philosophy becomes extremely dangerous when prescribed for political purposes. He tears down already established institutions while advocating for a democracy, when, in his view, all are part of one essence with predetermined outcomes that model after their own being to retain consistency (Cambridge Dictionary of Philosophy, 762). Spinoza proves to be even more crafty with his substitution of certain terms with synonyms that disguise their meaning. What he calls ‘ideas’ are really modes of thought, which again all proceed from the one essence, essentially blending together (look forward to an upcoming article on the importance that ideas in the empirical sense have for all thought). Instead of matter being a mode of something greater in itself, he considered it to be an extension of a mode, thus not having substance to itself, but only acting as an attribute of the one infinite substance. Here he melds mind and matter both under the one essence (Antony Flew, ‘A Dictionary of Philosophy). 

What this all leads up to is a massive emphasis on ‘essence’ that is the foundation for all of Spinoza’s philosophy, up to and especially including his political theories on man. Because every decision, passion, and even mode of being found in man is only determinable according to its alignment with this essence, the essence is what must be sound in order to create a legitimate offering to the worlds of philosophy and politics. 

The following seeks to dispute the claims made by Spinoza by showing inconsistencies within the foundation of his philosophy. In order for Spinoza’s claims about Christianity to be true, then his worldview should offer a viable alternative for how the world works. If it cannot, then he has effectively proved nothing, rather than contributing to the structure of religion. The precise examination of Spinoza’s argument found in his Ethics is given below. Unless otherwise stipulated, all following references will be from Ethics.

The first sentence in Spinoza’s proof is familiar to the rationalist. He says “conceive, if you can, that God does not exist.” (P11). This immediately harkens to Descartes and Anselm, who both believe that it is impossible for one to conceive this proposition. Spinoza agrees with these two, but he does so for different reasons. When Descartes says that one cannot fathom that God does not exist, it is because existence itself is essential to even consider the idea of God: “for even though one might imagine that such a being does not exist, nevertheless one cannot imagine that the idea of it does not represent anything real.” (Meditations III, 46) Spinoza, on the other hand, argues that it is an impossibility for the primary reason that it contradicts his previous statement in P7. This statement reads: “A substance cannot be produced by anything else (by P6C); therefore it will be the cause of itself, its essence necessarily involves existence, or it pertains to its nature to exist.” So far, this tracks with Descartes with the caveat that Spinoza applies this to any concept, while Descartes applies it to the essence which contains the attribute of necessary existence. 

This slight distinction is where the main differences emerge with Spinoza’s argument for God. While Spinoza arrived at the same conclusion that Anselm and Descartes already have in his second sentence, his reasoning has already developed two significant problems for the future development of his argument. The first is a point within his logical form. As mentioned in his own words, the idea that God can not exist contradicts his previous assertions. This means that this contradiction of himself is his reasoning for denying the premise. Having a coherent and methodical train of thought which strives to avoid contradiction is obviously not in itself a problem. This problem is that in the hierarchy of his axioms, he has put more importance on the definition of essence than the definition of God. Because of this, instead of arguing for God to be the first principle of being by which all else proceeds, he really argues that there is a substance that has this essence. And that this “essence” is this thing that is necessary for substance, which just so happens to align with the idea of God. Instead of proving the existence of God, he proved the existence of a nameless substance. Worse still, this substance, being all inclusive-contains the essence of necessary existence, and thereby extends to all subsequent substances. This idea falls apart quickly when one considers contingent substances, or essences of unrealized ideas, such as a phoenix. By Spinoza’s principle, both contingent and unrealized substances would contain necessary existence, creating a contradiction.

Even if one were to grant that this contradiction is not problematic, or that he could escape it by redefining his terms (which is how he does weave around it) his ultimate point is moot, as he has essentially created a pointless distinction. God is His essence. By defining the essence of a thing first, then using that thing as an authority to define God, Spinoza has already defined God, but called Him ‘essence’. So when he speaks of ‘essence’, it is really only the essence of God that fits his definition. Here is the logical progression of Spinoza’s thinking. Essence entails existence. God has an essence. Therefore, God has an existence. 

This is circular reasoning, as his initial ‘essence’ which he defines in P7 is exactly his God, yet he calls them separate things. How does he define essence? Spinoza says that the essence is something which involves existence and pertains to the nature to exist of a substance. What does this mean? That the ‘essence’ of the essence of a substance is necessary existence. He says this because substance already exists, which means that it must have existence, and anything that exists has an essence. Therefore, anything with an essence has existence, which makes existence, specifically necessary existence a property of essence. Where Anselm and Descartes define God as the thing with the property of necessary existence, Spinoza defines essence as that thing. But if this is the case, then what separates essence from God? It seems at this point that Spinoza has only defined God according to necessary existence in a more convoluted manner.

This is not the only way to reach this conclusion. Spinoza later says that God has all the essences (so we will assume that ‘essence’ in this case means something separate from the thing entailing necessary existence, something more like property). But he also says that there is no substance except for God (P14). This means that God has the property of necessary existence. But it also means that the abstract ‘essence’ cannot be separate from God, because God entails essence. It would not make sense for God to have necessary existence, and ‘essence’ to have necessary existence, if necessary existence were separate from God. In order to avoid this contradiction, God must necessarily be essence, not just have an essence. If this track follows, then ‘God’ is defined in P7, just under a different title. 

The second error that Spinoza makes is that he does not qualify the attributes of God other than essence which involves existence. This separates him from other philosophers who argue God’s essence as one necessarily distinct from other essences. For example, Gödel, when proving the existence of God, argues that the essence of God is one that contains only and all great making properties. This is different from the essence of a material thing such as a chair, which does not have the property of necessary existence or eternity. This appears to mean that he is limiting God to only positive things, but it is really Spinoza who limits God. Here is how. He says in P14, “If there were any substance except God, it would have to be explained through some attribute of God, and so two substances of the same attribute would exist, which (by P5) is absurd. And so except God, no substance can be or, consequently, be conceived.” He continues in P15, “Therefore, everything is in God and nothing can be or be conceived without God.” and, “so all things have been determined from the necessity of the divine nature, not only to exist, but to exist in a certain way, and to produce effects in a certain way. There is nothing contingent.” (P29). These quotes together give a broad view of Spinoza’s overall worldview, which denies that there are distinct substances, says that all is one, and that that one thing exists and acts only because of necessity.

All of these show a few things. First, that God has every essence, and second, that God necessarily produces and causes everything to happen because of this essence. By not setting any boundaries with the essence and properties of God, he creates a free for all where God is everything that exists. What is more, is that because God is necessary, infinite, and the only being, everything which comes out of his nature does so because there is no choice. They do not flow out of His essence because it is the essence of goodness, they flow out of it because they have no other choice. This means that everything that is created is done arbitrarily out of the starting point of necessity. If this is the case, it means that even God Himself is chained to His own essence of necessity, and exists only because ‘essence’ dictates that He must, and that everything He creates He does only because He must, removing any aspect of love or positive properties. 

Another grievous theological limitation occurs because of how Spinoza defines essence. Because of this definition, there can only be one thing with essence, and everything which proceeds out of it are modes (property instances), including people. These things cannot have their own essences, and everything is just one. This creates a particular problem for Christianity because of the incarnation. For Spinoza, God would merely be assuming a mode of Himself, and there is no real “essence” of man. This is obviously contradictory to the Christian faith. All the other arguments for God allow the possibility for the incarnation to occur. Anselm, Aquinas, and even Godel’s methods all leave room for the incarnation within their ontological definitions. Spinoza’s is the only one which is limiting, and there is no reason to make it limiting as it follows from an improper definition of essence to begin with. The very fact that it does not allow for the Christian worldview is just one example which shows how by assigning every attribute to God, Spinoza is really limiting His capabilities. 

From all these reasons, I conclude that Spinoza’s argument for God is weak and limiting, and certainly so when compared to other more developed ontological arguments that have come before and after him. Because he is unable to offer a strong alternative metaphysical view to those which he criticizes, his arguments against Christianity and religion should not be taken into consideration. And because his argument should not be taken into consideration, he should not be considered a political authority. And because he is used as a political authority despite having inconsistent positions, the result leads to a poisoning of the ideology of those who follow his perspectives. 

Ideology. [1] “From French idéologie ‘study or science of ideas.’” [2] “Systematic set of ideas, doctrines through which the world is interpreted”. Etymology online. Ideology. [1] “A set of ideas that an economic or political system is based on.” [2] “A set of beliefs, especially one held by a particular group, that influences the way people behave.” Oxford Learner’s Dictionary. Ideology. “A set of beliefs or principles, especially one on which a political system, party, or organization is based.” Cambridge Dictionary. 

The care taken when defining and utilizing this term cannot be downplayed. The importance of it cannot be understated. The power it wields cannot be underestimated. And yet this is what is happening in both contemporary culture and contemporary counterculture. Modern politicism, media, and education have ignored the weightiness that ideology carries, and are often fraught with internal contradictions and lack of identity. This critical position is taken by one who recognizes obvious egregious errors within the major players of these three mediums for output, and who seeks to provide a clear corrective measure that will strengthen the production and presentation of conservatism. 

In this exposition, the main points I want to establish are (1) that ideology is in implicitly present in every assertion made, (2) that a well ordered ideology is a necessary first ingredient to any serious output of media or education, and (3) that ideology precedes the aspects of consistency and identity. While both those terms deserve their own analysis, ideology is the groundwork for their very existence, much less discussion. 

The exordium above gives a selection of various definitions of the term ideology, but it is worth looking deeper into the components carried by the term in greater detail. Key terms used in these definitions are ‘study’ (the direct translation of the suffix ‘ology’), ‘set of beliefs’, and most importantly, from the etymology, ‘doctrines through which the world is interpreted’. The dictionary definitions are technical breakdowns about the word, but there are deeper implications for the purpose of an ideology within organizations and groups that are not taken into account. Ideology is the reason why something even starts in the first place. It is required for a vision, for a goal, for expansion. Ideology lies inherent within everyone whether they know it or not, and always influences their actions. The primary account for this is found within its etymology, as the ‘doctrines through which the world is interpreted’ amount simply to a ‘worldview’. Ideology even precedes a worldview, however, since a worldview is localized to the person who possesses it. It cannot subsist on its own. Ideology is a ‘set’ of ideas. Ideas that exist unattached to any human agent. Champion of classical liberals and one of the founders of social contract theory, John Locke, discussed thoroughly innate ideas that can only be reached by empirical examination.  George Berkeley similarly built his philosophies around the theory that nothing in the world is more than just an idea, and these ideas compose our entire existence and mode of living. The reason for invoking these philosophies is to give greater emphasis to the word ‘set’. Ideas in and of themselves compose and are accommodating of everything. And if they are all inclusive, then they ultimately convey no meaning. Meaning is only brought by the individual agent who groups specific ideas together in order to create a coherent, exclusive thought. This thought consists of ideas that relate to each other and are selective, so that one does not include both an idea and its contrary. For example, a worldview cannot contain both the idea that the earth is round, and the idea that the world is flat. Even though both of these ideas exist in logical space, they cannot be grouped together in the same thought and retain consistency.

So before coming to a conclusive worldview, a person must first organize a set from the infinite amount of ideas that exist. This grouping formation is what an ideology is, and the result of the grouping is a worldview. When looking at the concept of ideology from this perspective, as something built from the ground up from parts out of a bottomless toolbox, one can reach two conclusions. First, that an ideology must necessarily be consistent in order to separate it from an arbitrary selection from the infinite pool of ideas. Second, there are orders of ideologies, and some are stronger than others. Both of these conclusions can be proved by the use of mathematics. The concept of a maximally consistent set is a proven mathematical truth that necessarily exists for every category. A maximally consistent set essentially only states that there is a set of [ideas] that contains the most amount of possible ideas without including a contradiction by having two opposites within the set. If a set entails a certain idea, then it cannot include its opposite and remain consistent. Whichever set has the greatest amount of ideas entailed without contradiction is that set that is considered maximally consistent. Maximally consistent sets exist within every framework that includes an ideology. So if someone has a specific political worldview, such as conservatism or classical liberalism, there will exist for that worldview a set that entails the most amount of ideas without creating a contradiction. And whichever set contains the most is considered the maximally consistent set, and considered to be a higher order of set than one with fewer ideas included. 

The maximally consistent set theory shows how ideology is the starting point for every belief. It is also proof for orders of ideology. It should be noted that the orders are not based on quality of idea, however, but only quantity (yes, quantity is itself a quality, but of a different kind than the kind being used here). So an ideology that is on a higher order due to its proximity to the maximally consistent set of said ideology is not necessarily more correct than one below it. Yet this proof still provides grounds to make the claim that certain ideologies are objectively of higher form than others. A different metric may need to be used for ideologies not in the same framework (like how different modal logics have different criterions for proofs. See S5 as opposed to S1-4). Regardless, it is determinable that some ideologies are more complete than others. 

The reason for this exposition on ideology is because its importance is being forgotten. Many outlets commit themselves to an ideology without grasping all its essential aspects. Or worse still, they make no mention of a respective ideology and are content to allow outputs that contradict each other, weakening their already invisible ideology. The larger an organization grows, the more opportunity for contradiction within ideas arises. By adding more people as contributors, the door is opened for an inevitable clash in view. This puts growing organizations in a precarious position where they must balance the need for expansion to thrive and push their ideology with the fact that it becomes increasingly difficult to do so and remain consistent. This is the problem with modern exposition of ideas. In an effort to maximize output and notoriety, the initial ideology is often endangered. The result is an influx of inconsistency and a descent of credibility. The highest form of credibility is the one that creates an intricate set of ideas while maintaining zero inconsistencies. If a set of ideas has contradictions, then its worth is diminished. If a set does not contradict itself, but only because there are so few ideas within it, then it conveys little meaning. The only way to construct a set such as this is to slowly build ideas on top of each other while meticulously checking them to make sure there are no contradictions. This functions best with a starting idea that is the basis for the set. An idea that is of higher importance than all subsequent ideas, and thus supersedes anything that might contradict it. A source idea. When using one specific idea as a cornerstone, it becomes much easier to layer others on top of it. The result is an ideology. And the more ideas become layered, the stronger the ideology is. 

For the sake of clarity, one final addition to this definition of ideology is that it will inherently be based initially on inference. Lawyer and philosopher Dr. John Warwick Montgomery makes this point in his most recent book saying: “Inferential processes are inherent to the human being whatever his cultural milieu. Indeed, they must be presupposed in order to engage in any meaningful discussion or search for truth. Consider: any argument against logic already employs logic! And any collection of facts to disprove induction is already using inductive method!”. Ideology rests on a starting fact, and the act of grouping of ideas on top of this fact itself is itself based on an idea: the presupposition of the existence of logical truths. The maximally consistent set is a foundational idea that applies to all ideologies, whether or not they account for it. An ideology can either be a part of a consistent set, or outside it. This presupposes exclusivity within ideas. So even the initial act of starting with a source idea rests upon this foundation of exclusivity, and by definition removes the possibility for the inclusion of contrary ideas. Therefore, the creation of an ideology assumes an archetype of truth to give it meaning. If one desires their ideology to have any meaning in it, then they must necessarily assent to the notion that there are contraries and ideas that must be excluded in order to maintain consistency. And that if an ideology has meaning, then that meaning is best transmitted when there is no inconsistency. And this is a universal truth that is logically entailed with the bedrock of ideology. And if there is a universal truth, then there is a falsehood. Inconsistency, then, does not stop at destroying credibility, but is representative of a fundamental ontological problem. It is for this reason that a clear understanding of one’s own ideology is crucial for any successful or reputable outlet.

When discussing abortion, the pro-life movement, which is primarily composed of conservatives, has reached a point where nearly everything to be said has already been said. I say this not as a slight to the repetitiveness of the movement, but rather as praise to how thorough the defense of the unborn is. There are dozens of angles to approach the issue, hundreds of refutations against the opposing side, and thousands of pieces of research and evidence backing up their points. 

This being said, in this paper I want to look at the approach to defending the unborn, and attempt to more precisely hone in an effective methodology using formal logic. The benefit of this is twofold. First, by using formal logic, the abortion argument can be reduced to two contention points that will make arguing in support of the unborn more efficient. Second, this reduction forces those who defend abortion to seriously examine their own belief system without hiding behind emotional arguments, and thus will make their motivations perspicuous. 

One qualification before I begin the logical analysis: I will not be providing extensive arguments for the pro-life talking points that I bring up. This is to condense the paper and keep it on topic. The goal is to use logical structure to take the many arguments in support of abortion, and reduce them to two key premises that are significantly easier to refute than the myriads of red herrings that are often brought up. I am providing the groundwork that should drive every abortion debate to the same standoff point so that one only needs to have a thorough understanding of two talking points, yet can still use the formula to navigate any encounter with a pro-abortion supporter. 

Finally, this paper is intended to provide a streamlined and organized approach to engaging in the abortion debate. This does not mean that it will always be effective when arguing against abortion advocates. Many who support abortion are not interested in having a logical, rational conversation. They are rarely interested in coming face to face with ugly revelations about their positions, and by extension, themselves. This means that, just like in almost every argument, the goal is not necessarily to convince the opponent, but any third party observer. The logical method outlined below is traceable and repeatable. It does not rely on emotional arguments or false assumptions, but traces a pattern that is underneath every argument in support of abortion. If one recognizes the steps in the model and is able to relay them in a confident manner, they will always be vindicated, first by the inherent truth the structure reaches and logical reality that can be strictly proven, and second by anyone who is genuinely interested in rationally discussing the issue. 

Logic Revealing Ignorance

The saying ‘ignorance is bliss’ has been popularized not only for its relevance, but also for its accuracy and relatability. Ignorance is the comfortable and convenient way out of confronting a contentious case. This reasoning quickly leads to the conclusion that ignorance itself might not be such a bad thing. And the beauty of this conclusion is that it feeds into itself: if one continues in ignorance, they can simply ignore any refutation or counterargument and claim to be justified based on the original reasoning that brought them there. 

If someone legitimately follows this cycle, they are not practicing just mere ignorance, but willful ignorance. This is due to a simple failure to properly categorize pro-choice arguments. I want to first correct and explain this failure before going into why it exists. 

There is a dichotomy between two premises that necessarily encapsulates every single pro-abortion position. The dichotomy is this: if someone claims to support abortion, then they must either (1) deny that the unborn fetus is a living person (this is the biological argument) or (2), deny a notion of natural universal human rights (the philosophical argument). Whether they know it or not, anyone defending abortion necessarily assents to one of these two premises in order to avoid a logical contradiction. A logically valid pro-abortion argument will always include one of these premises. One is not able to claim that a fetus is a living person with natural rights and be in favor of terminating said person without running into a logical contradiction. 

 Logical Validity and Soundness

At this point the importance of logical validity and soundness should be stressed. There are three types of arguments: deductive, inductive, and abductive. A deductive argument is an argument that requires strict proof to make its claim. It is the strongest of the three types of arguments, and is the argument that is consistent in formal logic. An inductive argument is an argument where one uses specific premises to make a broader assertion. It is weaker than a deductive argument, and cannot be strictly proven in a logical setting. An abductive argument is the weakest argument of the three, only being the best possible explanation for a set of events. For the purposes of this paper, I will be primarily focusing on deductive arguments, as they are those where validity can be proven. An argument is valid when the conclusion follows from the premises. This does not mean that the argument is always true, however. An argument can be logically valid but still false. If an argument is both valid and true, then it is a sound argument, which is stronger than a false deductive argument, as it has weight in both formal logic and real world rhetoric. My purpose for outlining this is to demonstrate that without an assent to one of the two premises outlined in the previous paragraph, every argument that supports abortion is logically invalid. By assenting to these premises, however, the argument becomes vulnerable to attacks on their truthfulness. This means that even when an advocate for abortion makes a logically valid argument, they are not able to make a sound argument. In the subsequent paragraphs, I will examine some pro-abortion arguments and indicate how by breaking them down to their logical structure, they become either invalid, or wildly easier to argue against. 

Examples

By categorizing the pro-abortion position into this dichotomy of positions, the only real debate to be had is that which is centralized on the truth value of these two premises. Every other supporting argument for abortion is a red herring. To exemplify this claim, let’s take three commonly used pro-abortion arguments: (1) Abortion should be permitted in order to preserve female autonomy. (2) Abortion should be permitted for female safety, e.g. in cases where carrying the child endangers the mother, or in cases where raising a child would constrain the mother’s life. (3) Abortion should be permitted in cases such as rape, incest, or where it is observed that the unborn baby suffers from a physical or genetical condition. 

All of these arguments are subservient to the implicit acknowledgement of either the biological or philosophical proposition. They do not present any new material or evidence to allow them to stand on their own, nor do they provide the means to defend against a refutation of the biological or philosophical argument. They are only there to distract from the central argument, or are used as pathos arguments that tug at emotions. We can clearly see how each of these arguments falls under the umbrella of either the biological or philosophical argument. 

Example (1)

Argument (1) assumes the biological premise. By affirming the “right” for a woman to decide what to do with “her” body, it removes the possibility that there is another living person. The notion of “bodily autonomy” by definition supposes that the unborn fetus is nothing more than a clump of cells-specifically a clump that is somehow actually a portion of the woman. When someone argues in support of abortion because of “bodily autonomy” their argument is really saying “The unborn fetus is not a living person, it is merely part of my body, therefore I should be able to do what I want with it.” If the circumstances were to change, however, if it were determined that the fetus is in fact a living person, then the position would have no logical validity. It is because of this fact that the one opposing this position must recognize the centrality to the debate that this premise has. If one were to categorically disprove the premise “the unborn fetus is not a living person” (P1 for simplicity), then they would render any argument that assumes it deductively invalid. Contending this premise forces the pro-abortion advocate to a fork in the road where they must make a choice: either concede the logical absurdity of their argument, or defend its integrity by retreating to defending a singular premise. If the pro-abortion advocate is willing to admit that the fetus is a living person, then their argument is deductively invalid. This is rarely the case, of course, which means that they will still consider their argument to remain valid. This is only possible under the condition that P1 is true. And in this case the argument is not sound. This means that the truth value of this one premise is the only thing defending the integrity of their argument. And this is where the debate must necessarily center on. Suddenly the discourse has shifted from a civil setting to a scientific setting. The original claim that abortion should be promoted because of bodily autonomy is completely irrelevant because it hinges on an assumed truth value of P1. Therefore, in order to properly dismantle this argument, one does not need a complete understanding of the societal role of women’s rights, but a clear grasp on the biological fact that the unborn fetus is indeed a living person. 

Example (2)

Argument (2) assumes the philosophical premise. It marks a distinct contrast from the previous argument which relies solely on the assumption that the unborn fetus is only a part of the woman’s body. While one will most likely be forced to engage with the same biological question, it is possible for argument (2) to be valid while affirming the premise that the unborn fetus is indeed a living person. Because this argument does not depend on the material construction of the fetus, it is conceivable that one could be convinced that the unborn fetus is a person, yet still argue that it is acceptable for it to be terminated. The only way for this conclusion to follow, however, is if one denies the same standard of human rights to the fetus as they would to a person who has already exited the womb. This argument is a positive argument, that is, one that supposes to support the rights of the woman in an affirmative manner. But because there are two people in the equation, it is a double edged sword that attacks the child. The claim argues that a woman of childbearing age has more natural rights than the unborn. It might not deny that the fetus is more than a clump of cells, but what it does say is that that fetus is not entitled to its life because it infringes on that of the mother. Essentially, it says that the rights of the woman trump those of the child. This is a simplified view of the unequivocally evil theory called chosen moral status. This argument supposes a nihilistic worldview where the rights of the fetus remain in limbo like a twisted type of Schrodinger’s equation, where the waves (human rights in this case) are altered by external influences. To provide a quick clarification, this idea does not necessarily posit that unborn humans do not have any rights, but rather that if they do have rights, it is only because they were given to it by the mother who decides whether or not to carry the child to term. This assertion is made by the invocation of what is called the Actual Future Principle, a theory that states that if a fetus will become a human, then it has some moral value. Of course, given the starting point of the chosen moral status argument, whether the fetus will become human or not is not predicated on natural devices, but rather whether the woman chooses to carry the child to term. This makes an individual person the arbiter for the most important right: life, something that runs contrary to thousands of years of philosophy, governmental theory and law. This argument does not hide the fact that it explicitly devalues the life of what itself considers to be alive. By doing so, it sets itself in opposition to thousands of years of philosophical, historical, and legislative material that recognizes the natural right of life to be bestowed by something transcendental, not an individual. Just as argument (1) can be reduced to a simply biological statement that can then be contested, argument (2) necessarily reduces to the theory of chosen moral status, whether those making the argument recognize it or not. Therefore, when engaging someone who utilizes argument (2), one only needs to be able to defend the fact that the natural right to life comes from something beyond the mother to obliterate the soundness of the argument.

Example (3)

Argument (3) is a unique case that is slightly different from the previous two. Arguments (1) and (2) both rely on using one of the two central premises to make their argument logically valid so that they may attempt to justify all abortion. Argument (3) is disparate because it uses statistical anomalies to universally justify the position. It is perhaps the most disingenuous argument (although not as heinous as the chosen moral theory) of the three because it does not depend on the truth that the fetus is a living person that does have a natural right to life. One may even argue that the previous statement is in fact true, yet the tragedy outlined in argument (3) gives a good enough reason to disregard it. This is where the role that ignorance plays on people who defend abortion is clear. The ignorance involves the neglect of the weight of the two premises while considering the problem. Just because one chooses to ignore the significance of the biological and philosophical truths, does not mean that they do not have any application. A rape has no effect on the biological truth of the life of the child. It has no impact on the rights of that same child. Yet it is used as if it supersedes both of these facts. This is because those who make argument (3) are ignorant of the connotations that they make when they argue in favor of abortion. They do not realize that they are contradicting natural order and/or denying biological realities. Or perhaps they are vaguely aware and choose to avert their attention to these facts. It is distinct from the other arguments solely because it does not assume one of the two premises to make it logically valid. It is valid in itself because it assumes that the circumstances allow for an exception to be made despite the claims of one or both of the biological/philosophical arguments. Yet this does not mean that it is a sound argument. It still needs to defend itself from the natural rights position. It needs to give a sufficient reason for why in these cases one can suspend the affirmation of the human rights that the baby has. In this way it is similar to argument (2) in that it will be refuted philosophically rather than biologically. A solid understanding of how to defend the rights of an unborn human person is enough to successfully dismantle this argument, one just needs to stress the importance that this understanding has on the issue. 

Conclusion

In conclusion, the entire abortion argument can be reduced to two simple questions: Is the unborn fetus a living person? Does this living person have natural human rights? Answering these two questions is the key to understanding the entire abortion discussion. Every other argument either contains an assumed answer to one or both of these questions, or can be answered by a clarification of what they mean. Those who distract from discussing these do so either out of one of three types of ignorance. One can be ignorant because they are not familiar with the universal scientific consensus that a fetus is a biological life, and thus truly believe that abortion commits no wrong. They can be ignorant in that they are unable to make the logical connection between the biological debate and the civil debate. They might honestly be unaware of the importance the biological question has even to the question of women’s rights. Finally, they might be willfully ignorant, or maliciously ignorant. This ignorance recognizes that answering these questions removes either the logical validity from their argument, or the soundness of them. And so they will do whatever they can to dodge and ignore these two talking points. All of this ignorance is our duty to curb by having a proficient understanding of the facts, the talking points, and the logical structure of the issue.

I say that it is unfortunate that this question even needs to be asked because it already assumes a status quo. It is not supposing a counterfactual, but instead something that is already the case. “Why should the state or government educate?” implies that: (1) the state or government is already educating, (2) it is doing so with some intent that is presumably towards a beneficial goal, and (3) there is room for debate on whether or not this institutional reality is accomplishing its goal in a worthy manner. This debate is not an idealistic argument that exists on a flat plane within logical space, but rather an uphill battle against the supposition that institutional education is more beneficial than any alternative. 

The argument for state sanctioned education is, at its core, utilitarian, that is, something that seeks the most amount of good for the most amount of people. In this case, the “good” being sought is not a substantial measurement of ability or virtue, but rather an arbitrary bar that seeks an influx of numbers in graduation, attendance, and placement (13). This argument is not one that gives a real reason to support state sanctioned education over an alternative because it starts with the results and works its way back to a reason from them. Meaning that if their projected numbers were to be inaccurate or to fail, then there would not be anything to base their conclusion, that the state or government should educate, on. In reality, numbers alone are not able to sustain this conclusion forever, as more people are becoming disenchanted with public education. Convention has been able to maintain the illusion that this assumed premise is better than its alternatives for only so long. Now that the numbers are dwindling, however, the case for state controlled education must be made by means of a stable philosophy that proves this fact. 

These philosophical arguments are what West discusses in Education and the State. Because he has already covered them thoroughly, I am not going to discuss them in depth, but rather give a brief recap of the arguments from both sides and argue that his thesis in the book can be condensed. 

One argument that is made in favor of state mandated education is the “neighborhood effect”, which essentially argues that there are certain externalities associated with one person’s actions that ultimately influence those around them. The argument follows that conditions such as homelessness, addiction, or lack of education, while being primarily attached to a singular individual, negatively affect those around them. Because of this, if there is a measure to ensure that one or more of these problems can be addressed, such as the lack of education (which leads to the others incidentally), it should be taken. Therefore, a common mode of education should be implemented because of the positive effects it has on whole groups and demographics rather than mere individuals. The ethical case can then be made that beyond just numbers, this state enforced education is a moral good that exemplifies selflessness. 

Of course there are several problems with this reasoning. The first is that it assumes that not only can this standard of education be reached across the board, but that it can be reached best by means of the government. It does not allow for the opportunity for other methods to be explored to the same degree. The second and more grievous problem is that it assumes that the externalities produced in the neighborhood effect are always negative and that these negativities supersede the right for the individual to work in their own interest outside of them. It is this second point that I want to capitalize on because the first has already been thoroughly discussed.

When arguing that the state should not have control over education because of the neighborhood effect, there are two tactics. The first is to analyze each and every externality and conclude why or why not the state should intervene. If there are too many discrepancies between the method that the government has chosen and a positive outcome, then it cannot be concluded as the best way to handle the situation. This is the most common approach because it is able to use numbers to its advantage again. There would need to be definitive proof that the education provided at the state level is better than any private form. Because there are a multitude of ways to measure this fact, it is all but impossible to assert this. Does the amount of diplomas handed out actually solve anything? Or did the bar just get lowered to where they mean nothing. Is enrollment solving the problem if the students are not attending classes? The line of thinking can be broken down more and more to a micro level where it is impossible to definitively say that the status quo is better than any alternative. Furthermore, the neighborhood effect argument goes both ways, meaning that if one wants to say that externalities conclude an intervention by the state, they must also take into account the externalities that the state brings to the conversation. Here again there are discrepancies, such as juvenile delinquency that have been known to rise because of certain state mandates in place. 

This is the first way to argue against the mandating of state education, but there is another way to use the neighborhood effect argument effectively. This is due to their existence in themselves. If one were to argue that the government cannot effectively address these externalities, and therefore should not be in control, then they open the door for the possibility that the state could fix the problem and regain oversight on education. Instead, we should reject all framework of the issue and fall back to the inconclusive nature that the neighborhood effect revels in. Rather than debating over numbers and schematics that best reflect one’s own goals, finding a higher philosophy by which a system can be grounded upon is a far more solid approach to further the goals of truth and goodness. The neighborhood effect argument can be used as a catalyst for the conversation to be raised up a level. Because of the inherent ambiguity that it holds when used as a reason for one outcome or another, a skeptic can easily dismiss all points that proceed from it. So instead of getting into the weeds over each individual case where one resolution might be more productive than another, and using that to justify the proliferation of that method, we should recognize the unsatisfactory nature of such arguments and instead use them to remove the status quo and build up from a firmer foundation. 

Using the tools of logic and reasoning to start from a standpoint that promotes liberty, dignity, and goodness, we can shift the conversation to a place where the transcendental nature of these qualities work in our favor. These universal principles have more longevity and relevance than any individual case that might be brought up by means of the neighborhood effect. Therefore, this is where the debate must be had. This is critical because West demonstrates in his book that the first way of arguing still benefits the cause of those who support a more engaged role by the private sector. The numbers and data proves the effectiveness that liberty and freedom have, but we should not rely on these numbers to prove this fact. These things are good in themselves, and holding to this fact will help them to prevail in any case. 

In a previous post, I discussed the importance of using central texts as the starting point to more properly determine ideology. I intend to follow up with an application of this methodology. Rather than looking at something obvious or mainstream like the republican or democratic view on policy, I want to examine a smaller but quickly growing faction within the spectrum of political ideology: the dissident right. In order to avoid too much pontification on the dissident right, I am generalizing many micro groups within it by linking them to the one common factor that they tend to dissent from the mainstream right wing by taking their goals and policies to the extreme. Another commonality these micro ideologies have is the respect for one’s culture and traditional values. This explains two things about the dissident right. First, the division between certain subsets within it is because of differing traditions that rely on local and cultural norms. Second, because tradition itself is interested in preservation, those who take that value seriously are necessarily more radical because the two ideas are self fulfilling. A reverence for traditional values that support preservation of ideas and norms leads to a passing on of those same ideas, including the emphasis of safeguarding them. The passing on of these ideas is then done under the light of someone more emphatic about keeping them, and so continues the cycle. 

This is not meant to be a deep exegesis on what the dissident right is, but rather a stepping stone to discuss relevant political theory. The reason why I invoke the dissident right is because their voices echo older political ideologies that originate in philosophers from the modern period. While there are many influential texts for the dissident right, I want to go back a generation in thought and look at what influences these texts. The first of these texts is Hobbes’ Leviathan, which has attracted many young visionaries due to its “war of all against all and role the state plays in society.” and because he “defines the role and duties of the state. As well as highlighting the cruelty and savagery of human nature if left unchecked.” (Offered in private conversation by the author of the Machiavellian Observer). 

While their passion for some deeper ideology that provides a solution to the disorder in current governmental systems is commendable, looking to Hobbes for the answer is ultimately a misguided approach. Hobbes’ development of a social contract is harsher, albeit more realistic than that of figures such as Locke or Rousseau. The grittiness that lies behind his whole philosophy is enticing to young thinkers who want to view the world from a different framework. His cynical view of life (poor, bitter, nasty, brutish, short) is refreshingly honest, and, similar to Machiavelli (another revered figure in many right wing political spheres) Hobbes does not shy away from ‘edgy’ ideas that come close to an endorsement of tyranny. Both of these are seen as necessary figures who recognize the ultimate futility of ‘civil’ political landscapes, and instead sacrifice certain liberties of the masses in order to propagate the greater good of a healthy civilization. 

From a philosophical perspective, Hobbes can be credited with presenting a semi-consistent empirical view, admitting the limitations of what one can actually know without delving into rationalism. This is seen when he denies concepts like ‘the infinite’, saying that because it cannot be perceived, it cannot be known. Hobbes would rather keep his worldview consistent than make a concession to rationalism for certain concepts, and in this he is successful in presenting a coherent view-at least on the surface.

While these reasons give some insight into the respect that Hobbes has gained, it is, in the end, unwarranted. There are many holes in his philosophies that lie beyond his empiricism. Because his philosophical worldview is entailed with the nature of man and social governance, the holes find their way in his political theories as well. In this analysis, I want to look at his view on one of the most important concepts that a functional society must completely understand: justice. What I have found is that Hobbes’ view of justice is inconsistent and irrational. These problems that are in his writings infect subsequent author and reader’s beliefs. Without a substantial position on justice, Hobbes does not lay down the necessary groundwork for a cohesive structure on which to build governmental theory. With this being said, I am free to dive into exactly what Hobbes says in his Leviathan and explore how it is insufficient for a philosophical worldview. 

Despite taking several chapters to illuminate his position, Thomas Hobbes presents a convoluted view on justice. It is difficult to find a proper definition which he gives, and he broadly defines it best as the privation of a thing. This means that to Hobbes, justice does not exist, but instead is a thing that we give name to actions that act in relation to a social contract. He gives clues to what he considers to be justice, but in these there is not a strong affirmation of what constitutes the quality of justice. Instead of existing as a property or a quality which one might possess, it appears to be a fabrication which is synthesized as a result of laws which are composed by men. Hobbes sees justice as a quality which is beholden to reason, and nothing more than a descriptor which categorizes the actions which man takes in one direction or another. 

What is Justice?

What does Hobbes exactly say about justice? His first definition is largely apophatic: “For, where no covenant hath preceded there hath no right been transferred, and every man has right to everything; and consequently, no action can be unjust. But when a covenant is made, then to break it is ‘unjust’; and the definition of ‘injustice’ is no other than ‘the not performance of the covenant.’ and whatsoever is not unjust is ‘just.’” (Leviathan, Chapter 15). So here, justice is not itself a tangible thing, but merely the absence of injustice. And injustice is not in itself a universal principle, but it is dependent on a sustaining cause, being the covenant which is created by men. So justice is beholden to injustice for its quality. In this view, justice is not itself a thing at all, but merely the absence of a thing, similar to Augustine’s view of evil. As a result of his unclear definition which is dependent on other causes, justice itself is completely arbitrary on multiple levels. First, justice can only be observed (or the lack of justice observed) when there is an act of injustice taking place. This act of injustice is simply an action which defies a previously setup order. These acts of defiance themselves mean nothing apart from what is already established. In fact, depending on how or where the order is established, one could perform either an action or its opposite and both be considered ‘injustice’ according to how the contract is cut. This means that the quality of injustice is not tied to anything universal or transcendental, but that the only inherent and consistent quality of injustice is that it is bound to the initial decision that man makes to surrender his rights to the social contract. In this way, Hobbes’ view of injustice is necessarily a human construct. And his view of justice is even worse, as it is only the absence of said human construct. 

Confusion of Words Chosen

And so the lines between injustice and justice are starting to become heavily blurred. First, because one thing might be considered just or unjust depending on what particular rights the human has surrendered, and second, because there is no reason to use the terms the way that Hobbes has used them. His application of the terms themselves are completely arbitrary. What Hobbes calls ‘injustice’ could just as easily be called ‘justice’. He could easily flip the two words and consider justice to be the opposition to the contract, and injustice to be its deficiency. The two terms themselves do not carry with them any weight, but are only descriptors. And if they are descriptors, then they do not have any meaning in themselves, but only point to actions which Hobbes observes. Why is one thing ‘just’ and another ‘unjust’? Within the language itself, the term ‘unjust’ implies to be the opposite of a thing, yet in Hobbes’ philosophy the thing that it would be the opposite to is not a thing at all, but a deficiency of a thing. It does not make any sense to argue that the root word is nonexistent and that its negation is the real thing, which means that the negation of that real thing would be nonexistent. Perhaps a better term for Hobbes to use would be “uninjustice”, which would of course be ridiculous, yet not inconsistent with his philosophy. Furthermore, within the context of the two terms, the addition of the prefix “un” implies a negative connotation. And this is consistent with how Hobbes uses it, as injustice is the “not performance” of something. So the term injustice has a sort of negative quality to it, but this negative quality is not intrinsic to anything substantial, but subject to change depending on the reasoning of a man. If this is the case, then the negative means nothing because it could just as easily mean its opposite. Hobbes’ descriptions of justice are completely irrelevant to the spirit of justice, and instead use the comfortability of the established term to illuminate his main argument. Hobbes is not defining justice, but he is creating his own system and co-opting known instruments of language for backup.

Hobbes still has an idea of Justice?

There is a problem with this reasoning that extends past Hobbes’ obscurity with the definitions that creep into the concept of justice itself. The problem is that without this contract, when man is essentially left to his own devices, there is no such thing as justice. Even though the definition which Hobbes has described so far can hardly be considered true justice, by using the term in this way, he has removed the possibility for the concepts connoted by the conventional definition of ‘justice’. Hobbes says as much himself, that in “war…of every man against every man.”, there is no such thing as an injustice, because a man is not entered into a contract, and thus beholden by nothing to follow anything but his own gain. Here is the problem with this: first, if the actions of man outside a contract are not unjust, then they must be either just, or neither just nor unjust. It would not make any sense for the actions to be neither, since the two are opposite and inclusive. Since this is the case, all actions done outside of the contract must be considered just. So again justice is completely arbitrary outside the scope of a contract, being all inclusive of every action.

Possibly the clearest definition of justice he gives is in chapter 15, where he says: “The names of just and unjust, when they are attributed to men, signify one thing, and when they are attributed to actions, another. When they are attributed to men they signify conformity or inconformity of manners to reason. But, when they are attributed to actions, they signify the conformity or inconformity to reason, not of manners or manner of life but of particular actions.” While in this passage Hobbes provides a distinction between justice applied to a man as opposed to it being applied to an action, the key word which appears in both scenarios is “conformity”. But without a contract; for example, in the act of creating the covenant itself, what is the action or person conforming to? It certainly cannot be the contract because the contract does not exist yet. So because the act of creating a mutual contract is not an injustice because there is nothing to bind it, it must be justice. And because it is justice, it must conform to something. But if there is not a contract to conform to, then what is this act conforming to? It seems that the act of cutting a covenant should be guided by something to affirm its justice. It must be a just act because it cannot be unjust since there is no covenant to go against yet. But if it is just, then why is it when the covenant is created, it suddenly supersedes the thing that caused its conception in the first place, becoming the new authority to determine what is just or unjust. 

The reason Hobbes gives is that it is the act of self-interest, or “prudence” which guides one to create a contract, and that is the thing which justice conforms to. Even if this is able to explain the initial entrance into this agreement, however, it is quickly contradicted again. Hobbes argues that because a person willingly entered into his contract, he has no right to complain when the leviathan disagrees with him or is used against him. Instead, he says “and therefore if a man by words or other signs seem to despoil himself of the end for which those signs were intended, he is not to be understood as if he meant it or that it was his will, but that he was ignorant of how such words and actions were to be interpreted.” (Chapter 15). So Hobbes believes that everyone is always working for their own benefit and preservation. In which case, there is an implicit universal structure that would imply just and unjust outcomes, yet he never specifically mentions these. If the sense of prudence is what leads one to create a contract, it should be able to be above it so that the person within the contract is able to contest the leviathan whenever it is prudent for him. But in the world the Hobbes has set up, even prudence, despite making the first contact into a system where constructs like justice can exist, is beholden to the very thing it created. 

The Solution to Arbitrariness

A theme throughout Hobbes’ writing is that justice (or injustice) is arbitrary. Either it is arbitrary within its own language, it is malleable depending on who concocts the contract, and the fact that the act of cutting this contract must be considered just according to the interests of the one creating it, but not for any other reason. Justice does not exist as a universal principle, only appearing under the wings of a created contract. This means that justice is beholden to prudence, but prudence is just as arbitrary. There is nothing to keep it consistent across every person engaging in it. Hobbes does believe in a god, even if it is a mechanical theistic one. If he amends some aspects of his god to be more like the one Leibniz presents, then he would be able to create a more consistent worldview. Leibniz’ view of God where He sees the goodness within Himself and ordains everything according to that would provide a common tie that every “just” or “prudent” act could fall into. It would also categorize these things as good, and it could explain what the act of cutting a contract is beholden to, embracing the justice of it. Thus justice is beholden to goodness which is beholden to God, instead of either not existing or existing as a contradiction. 

Ideology is more than just a conglomerate of ideas, however, and it finds itself rooted within concrete rules that are conceived and preserved by authoritative texts. The importance of these texts is two fold. First, they provide a clear genesis and genealogy that allows for the tracing and archival of the origin of ideas. Second, they serve as an anchor to keep the worldview consistent. In the same way that the United States has a constitution to elucidate the system of governance clearly, these texts that are the originators of ideology work as a ‘check’ against those who stray from their prescriptions. In other words, they are useful for appropriate grouping and accurately assigning labels. This is by no means a novel idea, as C.S. Lewis addressed the same issue eighty years ago. He stressed the importance of “reading old books”, and his rationale was very much driven by the credibility and extra insight that one gains by reading primary texts over secondary sources.

This importance can be seen in a practical manner when looking at the texts that the left wing tends to hold as authoritative. Marx, Lennon, and Hegel are often cited within arguments in support for communism or socialism. And so the most accurate way to understand these worldviews is by reading The Communist Manifesto or Dialectics. Doing so unravels the motivations of the original author’s idea of what the ideology should be, and just as importantly, what those who profess these beliefs ought to believe. If someone claims to be a communist but supports the privatization of education, then they can clearly be checked by the original text written by Marx, and shown a contradiction with their personal belief and a core tenet of their ideology. In this way, by examining the original texts, one can easily determine the source of the ideas being presented and also the dogma that defines them. And this is not exclusive to left wing literature. Members of the conservative movement might hold authoritative the founding documents of America and the works written by the founders. This then explains the affinity for a constitutional republic as well as the emphasis on upholding tradition. It would be ridiculous to suggest that a monarchy is being promoted by the Constitution, or even the Federalist and Anti-Federalist Papers. So by having an understanding of the meaning of these documents through inspection, it becomes significantly easier to engage with traditional republicans because a common ground has already been settled on. Knowing the origin of the ideas allows for efficient conversation that is not bogged down with defining every term or considering every idea. Because the founding documents give an authoritative explanation of what they are conveying, they produce a platform by which a shared framework is presented.

This categorization of ideology by text is not one directional. That is, in addition to working from a text to an ideology, the inverse is possible where one can determine what texts someone would consider sacrosanct according to their beliefs. There are many sources that have driven prevalent ideologies that are not commonly recognized, yet still remain highly influential. One noteworthy example of this is the work Existentialism is a Humanism by Jean-Paul Sartre. In addition to having strong ties with the foundations of feminism, Sartre revolutionized existentialism to a much more mainstream philosophical perspective. This revitalization of pre-existing ideas centered around individualism and relativism by Sartre has infected the modern political discourse, yet he is rarely considered an authority in this dialogue. Due to his implicit influence, however, it is a safe assumption to say that the vast majority of left wing actors find the source of one or more of their beliefs with humanistic existentialism. This again opens discourse. 

Take an instance where two people are conversing, where one believes that God does not exist, and therefore man holds the mantle of creating a functional world as painlessly as possible. He might not know that this is exactly the existentialism that Sartre describes, but suppose that the other does know this. There are two possible scenarios for growth depending on the worldview of the person who does know the origin of the thought. The first situation is that he is in agreement with the original idea, and is then able to provide additional context, give credibility, and further develop his thought according to the original author to this conversation. This addition is a net positive because of the growth in knowledge on the side of the other party. 

On the other hand, suppose that the person who knows that the idea comes from Sartre’s existentialism does not agree with it. This then lends him the upper hand should the dialogue turn hostile. He now has the additional context to the worldview that his opponent might not have considered which includes refutations. A true comprehension of the origin of existentialism would include why it came to be, which is an alternative metaphysical worldview to Plato’s theory of essence and form. This theory of essence can then be used as a rebuttal to existentialism. From this it can be clearly seen how knowing the context of a worldview by categorizing it according to its initial conception is necessarily beneficial no matter what view one has.

To recap, it is possible, not only to determine one’s worldview by examining the texts that they hold in high esteem, but to dissect it, and understand how to effectively dialogue about it. This methodology is useful because it allows for competent addressing of undesirable worldviews, and can decode when actors do not disclose what they truly believe. The ad fontes approach to understanding why people believe what they do is extremely powerful for furthering conversation and reaching truth. It is for this reason that the first and most important step to engaging in productive discourse is to start with the primary texts that influence ideas.

Music by nature is relational. There are three primary agents in order to achieve a musical relationship. These are the composer of the piece, the performer, and the receiver. The most important of these agents is the receiver, as the receiver is present in every combination of relation. This is because the receiver will always be assumed as a role, even if there is not one whose express purpose is to receive. Take the example of a symphony, where all three agents are expressed. There is a composer of the symphony itself but not one who is capable of relaying all the parts of the symphony to a listener. This means that there are performers who transmit the composition of the author for the benefit of listeners. Finally, there are listeners who merely absorb the transmission that is a result of a combination of the composer and performer working in harmony. In this example, it can be clearly seen that the receiver is the most necessary part of this relationship by attempting to conceive the removal of each party. If the one whose entire purpose is to receive are removed, the agency of reception is passed onto the other agents. The performers are receiving their own performance while they play it. A performer does not necessarily need to be the composer, but they will necessarily be the receiver of the piece. Likewise the composer does not necessarily need to be the performer, but the composer is necessarily also a receiver of his own invention. The receiver is the only piece that can be separated fully by itself. One can be only a receiver, whereas being a composer or performer entails a receiver. While the receiver is the most fundamental part of a musical relationship, being always necessary for participation in music, it is not able to produce music on its own. It must be conjoined to a composer for music to be conceived in the first place. While the transmission of music can occur without the composer present, the inception of music relies upon the composer developing the thought of music.

Here lies the hierarchy then for the order of the relationship: The composition of the piece precedes all else, thus the composer is the first moving piece of the act of music. The composer is necessarily a receiver, and thus the receiver must also be present for the first seeds of the musical work as well. A composer is able to be a performer in addition to being a receiver, but this is not conjoined to his nature. A composer is unable to divorce himself from the reception within him. This is the first step to the production of music. The second is by proxy of a performer. The performer is that one who transmits the music to another agent. This means that the transmitter can be a composer, but it is also able to transmit without having composed the piece. The act of performing is of course transitive, meaning that its purpose is for another agent to receive such a transmission. This receiver can either be a separate entity, or it can again be the performer. Here, the performer stands as an in-between point of composer and receiver. The receiver is present in all of these above scenarios, but these are also spatial and temporal relationships. If a composer dies, his work may still be transmitted and received. In this way the composer is still a necessary part for the creation of the musical piece, but the music itself is not limited to the presence of the composer. A performer may transmit something that has already been preconceived. So while the composer is instrumental in the initial development of music, he is not necessary to the participation of music by nature. 

At this point modernity has led to the creation of a problem with the distinction of the performer. Up until the modern era, music was not capable of being recorded and able to be played on demand. Because of this, music was limited to a strict relation between at least two of the agents. It could be between composer and receiver, performer and receiver, or all three. Now, the digitization of sounds has rendered the need for a performer obsolete when it comes to preservation. This means that, just as the composer is capable of passing away while the effects of his work remain within the relation of performer and receiver, now the performer is capable of doing the same while it is only the receiver who participates with the music. This leads to a metaphysical problem of what constitutes a relationship. The problem is that if there is not a person doing the performance, can the receiver enter into a relational model with the music? This can be remedied by two ways. The first is to argue that the relationship is within the mechanical parts of what is transmitting the sounds. This creates its own problems, however, as it begs the question: can a person enter into the same type of relationship with a non person as with a person? This metaphysical question at the very least creates a distinction between the two relationships, meaning that they are not comparable by logical form. In order to avoid answering this difficult question about the comparability of these relationships, there is an alternative solution in order to preserve the initial relation between the receiver and performer. This is that each composer and performer transmits an impression with each expression of the piece. In this way, the receiver of the music enters into a relationship with the impression of the composer and performer. An impression can also arise by intention of the composer by contemporary means. When someone produces a track using music software, the rhythm and chords will be repeated exactly the same time by a synthetic machine which does not have the attributes of a traditional performer. In order to justify the distinction between this programmed amalgamation of sounds which we call music from a cacophony of random assortments of noise produced by a machine without intention, the impression of the composer is necessary. Here the composer transmits their impression of the conception of music to the device capable of reliable output. So an impression preserves the relational model between the receiver and the composer in cases of a recorded performance, and in cases of a produced track.

Here are the relational models of music thus far: A composer, performer, and a receiver. A composer and a receiver, where the composer is the receiver of his own work. A performer and a receiver where the receiver is separate from the performer. A performer and a receiver where the receiver is the same as the performer. Both of these previous relational models contain the impressions of the composer. An instance where the composer, producer, and receiver are all composed of one entity. Finally, a receiver who engages with impressions of both composer and performer.

The purpose of these is to provide a framework in which music dwells. The relational model of music is not a definition in itself, but a prerequisite to a definition. Music will only be found in one of these models, but it is not exhausted by them. There are still other parts and compositions of music which should be explored in greater detail. These parts can be divided into four aspects: First is the material sound waves and the physical nature. Second is the math and metered structure that underlies it. Third is the variation of these things in an order, or a motion. Finally and most importantly, music is defined according to the production of emotion and feeling within the receiver of it. The last of these contains the essence of music. The first three are necessary attributes to the construction of music, but in themselves cannot be music without the fourth part. This fourth aspect of music is a sort of “final cause”, and is also the most entwined with the relational aspect of music.

The first part of music: Material

One solution to the pairing problem is that language serves as a bridge between the physical and the spiritual. Language is not only a connector to convey meaning, ideas, and expressions from one person to another, but it exists in a physical plane (At least earthly. Aquinas discusses the language of angels which is not limited by the physical plane, but this is not applicable at the moment). Language is the result of one actively communicating a message to another. This is by means of the soundwaves traversing through the air and engaging with the receptors of the senses. It is not limited to the sense of hearing, however, as sign language involves the perception by sight of one moving their hands in patterns to signify this meaning. Here there is an even more clear example of physical matter being not only important but absolutely necessary to the function of communicating language. 

Music is similar in this regard. The meaning of music lies within a fundamental mode within its substance, but the transposition of it requires external, physical means. Music is similar to language because it requires the transmission of meaning from a subject to an object. While language is capable of being understood by the eyes, in the case of viewing sign language or reading, or even touch, such as blind people understanding braille, the participation of one with music must be done with the ears. This only applies to the reception of music, however, as the initial composition may not require this mode at all, being able to sustain music only within the brain. For the transmission by hearing music, this is the process: the sounds produced are electronic signals within the brain that are carried by an auditory nerve. This nerve opens as a result of chemicals, which are produced by the vibrations of hair cells within the cochlea. This process of the cochlea in turn is reliant upon the incoming sound waves which pass through the eardrum when entering the ear canal.

The implications are these: (1) the brain is what creates music, the physical aspect is only necessary for reception. (2) The reception of music is fundamentally within the ear. (3) This separates it from language. It can be related to language, but not a subset of language due to the limitation of the transmission. (4) This process is required for every relational model of music but for when the composer and receiver are the same. This is because the composer of the piece has the unique position of being able to reach an understanding of what the song is without having to hear it. Beethoven is the perfect example of this. He composed music while deaf. In order to do that, he had an understanding of the order and layout of the piece. (5) Most importantly, this means that the definition of music cannot be reduced to only what is physical. 

Because of this reasoning, the initial clause should be amended. Music by nature lies within the understanding of the mind. What a person hears when they listen to music is really only the transmission of sound waves. This means two things: first, that music itself is not physical, but a facet of the discernment of the brain. For if music were simplified to only the material aspect of the components of the ear along with the electronic signals in the air, then there would be nothing to separate music from any other sound. Therefore, music is an action of the brain which categorizes the sounds that it receives and organizes them into groups of what it deems either ‘music’ or ‘non-music’. In this way, the material part of music is not really by nature a part of the essence of music. The transmission of music requires physical properties, but the invocation and final reception (that is, after the sound has been properly discerned into its category) do not require physical properties.

I will continue clarifying the other parts of music in a second installment. After these, I must address intentionality, the further distinction between music and language, emotions, and cite specific examples. Look forward to these follow ups in the future. 

This truth that holds all together is taken by faith. People assume that the truth values assigned to propositions are given correctly. They believe that the semantic structure of language which lies over its syntax is consistent and upright. When they say ‘yes’, their language translates the affirmative principle. Their yes means yes and their no means no. This assent to faith is within every person whether they realize it or not, and most of the time it is taken for granted. This is implicitly built within all linguistic models, requiring a common agreement between individual agents corresponding within the mode of each respective language that what they are saying does indeed convey meaning. This is understood from an earthly level, meaning that without this mutual assent, one cannot even discuss truth in a meaningful way.

One man named Hilbert devised his own program to resolve this issue. Hilbert’s program was the ambitious theory that all of mathematics could be axiomatized. Because certain arithmetics can be axiomatized, he believed that one could build their way up from the ones that could and work up to an axiomatization of all mathematics, thus eliminating the need for intuition. This is a similar idea to one accredited to Bertrand Russel, who argued that the logical structure underlying language clears it to closer to a universal level. “The ‘is’ of “Socrates is human” expresses the relation of subject and predicate; the ‘is’ of “Socrates is a man” expresses identity. It is a disgrace to the human race that it has chosen to employ the same word ‘is’ for these two entirely different ideas-a disgrace which a symbolic logical language of course remedies.” (1919: 172). This reduction of language to a symbolic logical language can then be magnified to include the field of mathematics. Basic arithmetic already had substantial logical proof for an axiomatization (Peano arithmetic), so the idea that one could formalize all of mathematics is not ludicrous.

When he saw the truth of arithmetic, he explained it by its logical principles, slowly working his way up from the bottom so as to properly explain all of mathematics axiomatically. If he succeeded in accomplishing this, who is to say he could not keep going and reduce every interaction and proposition down to its axiomatic roots? He accepted an impossible task rather than a simple assent, one that, however tedious, would answer conclusively what truth is by way of its syntactical structure.

Unfortunately for Hilbert, Gödel and Turing both developed their own schemas which obliterated any hope of axiomatizing arithmetic. They proved that certain axioms necessarily cannot prove consistency within the structure of a sentence, rendering his work worthless. They did this by demonstrating in their own ways that a system, theory or machine is incapable of proving consistency within itself. This does not mean that the consistency cannot be proven altogether, only that it must be done by an outside source relative to it. Arithmetic cannot prove itself, and it certainly cannot assign itself meaningful truth. That truth comes from the values we impose upon it, which are again only taken due to faith. 

The same implications hold for our understanding of truth. We can grasp the truth, but only insofar as something external imposes it upon us. Using Anselm’s definition for backup, we can infer that this truth comes from God. Whether men call it natural law, one of many false gods, or the One True God, there is something above our mortal syntactical nature which gives meaning to all we say and do. Not only this, but we can extrapolate attributes of God from Gödel and Turing’s proofs. One opposing God may argue that God requires something outside Himself in order to give truth, thus creating an infinite regress. This does not prove the non-existence of God, but instead argues against a specific entity, treating the infinite regress itself as god. It in actuality does not attack the Christian God, however, but proves His nature as infinite. His nature is infinite in what one might call a vertical manner, each form of goodness being imposed from above, but leading to the same source. It also proves His infinitude from a broader nature, as axiomatic systems which lead to conclusions may be vast, but are ultimately finite. For something to be consistent, and true, within itself, it cannot be broken down to these finite axioms. God is different in that He is infinite, not confined to any series of propositions. Thus, truth necessitates God and His infinite nature, and the idea of truth necessitates faith in one way or another concerning this God.

Other questions exist surrounding aspects of time such as duration. Time only exists in the present, yet the present cannot be long or short. Nevertheless, we understand such concepts. We are aware of duration, we calculate periods which we use as length of measurements. We would not be able to do this if we were not aware that time exists. To add to this question, Augustine questions where the future and the past are, inquiring how we can understand something arises from what appears to be nonexistent, moving into another nonexistent thing. Is time realized from the movement of the heavenly bodies? Is it an extension of an unknown entity? 

Despite the ambiguity of these mysteries, Augustine provides an exemplary model of one who properly addresses such topics. “These are tentative theories, Father, not downright assertions. O God, be my Judge and my Guide.” (11.17) Augustine is careful not to impose his will in disorderly conduct, showing proper respect to the material. This being the case, he is still aware of certain Scriptural truths which tell him about time. He knows that time is a created thing, for the words “In the Beginning” necessarily demonstrate the effect of time. He affirms that God is outside of time, taking an approach comparable to Boethius, which helps address certain doctrinal issues about free will and election. God sees past, present and future in one moment, not beholden to the laws of time.

There must be a purpose for time. God does not create arbitrarily, on the contrary, “And by the words, ‘God saw that it was good’, it is sufficiently intimated that God made what was made not from any necessity, nor for the sake of supplying any want, but solely from His own goodness, i.e., because it was good.” (City of God, 9.24) Time, as part of creation, is good, and God declares as much in Genesis. Time is included in the creation of heaven and earth, being created out of nothing, for if it were by God’s own substance, it would be equal to Him. Perhaps it is for this reason that time is necessary. If we were not contained in time, we would be eternal, but only God is eternal and uncreated. Time is a medium which distinguishes our being from that of God’s.

One last insightful remark Augustine makes about time is the distinction between God’s Word within time, and outside it. We are not capable of comprehending the vastness of God’s intellect or being, for “My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:8-10). In His infinite wisdom and mercy, God gave us the gift of time and effectively communicates through it. “What my Scripture says, I say. But the Scripture speaks in time, whereas time does not affect My Word, which stands forever, equal with me in eternity.” (13.29) These words comfort Augustine in his folly. The Spirit, which is One with the Word, is able to relay understanding and transcend time. “And what we have received is no spirit of worldly wisdom; it is the Spirit that comes from God, to make us understand God’s gifts to us.” (13.30) God is the immutable Word beyond time, but also that one who condescends through time for us, either through His Spirit in Scripture, or through His Son in the incarnation. While we cannot understand the extent of time, all its attributes or its substance, we can acknowledge its extraordinary complexity that works to the Good in order to serve God and help us come to God. Therefore, it is best to hold Augustine’s attitude of humility and thankfulness when discussing these topics, recognizing the massive disparity between God and man, and living our lives accordingly.

Objection one: It seems that the Trinity can be known through natural knowledge, as according to the universal thing theory, all that is in the universe is one material essence, separated only in its own diverse inferiors. Therefore, since one is all, we can conclude that God is part of this essence, and that He too has separated diversity, which can then be extrapolated into persons.

Objection two: God is an all loving being, and wants as many people to come to Him as possible. There are those who do not have access to the Scripture, and thus cannot read its words and believe it. Because redemption is only in Christ, and God desires all to be saved, there must be a way to recognize Christ and His redemption without Scripture in order to fully come to God.

Objection three: Bonaventure recognizes this fact, as when one considers the order, origin and relation of the faculties of memory, intelligence and will, they are led to an image of the trinity as seen reflected in their own soul.

On the Contrary, St. Augustine writes “But we must find out by an appeal to the authority of the Sacred Scriptures whether faith is in a position to do so” (St. Augustine, On the Trinity, Book 1, paragraph 2)

I respond: The Trinity, by its very nature and essence, is incomprehensible by the human mind alone. Indeed, without Scripture one would not be able to actualize the presence of the three persons, and certainly not their role for man. The unity of the Trinity in harmony with their distinction of persons is not fully realized by any example or comparison. Even with the revelation of Sacred Scripture the Trinity is still unknown in its entirety. Even so, enough distinction is made in Scripture to distinguish each person of the Trinity and their role. No matter the example or idea of the personhood of the Trinity the natural man can come up with, it will fall short of the simple confession that Christ our Lord makes in the institution of baptism “Go therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 

Spirit.” (Matthew 28:19) Just as baptism is a mystery without Scripture, so the trinity is.

Reply to Objection 1: The universal thing theory is only true insofar as each material or spiritual thing draws its essence from God initially. This, however, still allows for the individuality of personhood, both in humans and in God, being contrary to the universal thing theory. Furthermore, as Thomas Aquinas says, God is His own being. This is separate from beings of others, as His is divine. This disproves universal thing theory again, which then disproves any ideas coming out of it.

Reply to Objection 2: Our Lord Jesus Christ says in His high priestly prayer “I have given them your word” and “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth.” Scripture has been given to man for a reason, which is to give the truth to man that he may be saved. God desires all to be saved, which is why He descended to us, and gave us His Word. In addition, the idea that one can realize God through reason alone contradicts His very Word. St. John the Evangelist writes also “but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.” If one were to believe without these words, then their writing would have been for naught. The Athanasian creed states that whoever does not hold the catholic faith cannot be saved. Knowing the Trinity is a part of that catholic faith, as it is necessary to know what God one worships. If someone can know the Trinity and God on their own, they invalidate Scripture’s purpose and belittle Christ’s sacrifice for us.

Reply to Objection 3: This argument is a misrepresentation of Bonaventure’s theology. While it is true that St. Bonaventure recognizes that a semblance of the Trinity can be discerned, he makes it clear that its divine nature is unique. “Therefore, the Trinity of persons is not in any way knowable through a creature, by using rational argument to move from creature to God. But even though there is nothing fully like the Trinity, nevertheless in a way there is something that belief finds similar in a creature.” (Commentary on the Sentences Book I) The understanding of the Trinity through senses and looking to the soul is only useful insofar as it is aided by God. “When the soul reflects…it is aided by the light of the sciences which perfect it and inform it, and which represent the most blessed Trinity in a threefold way.” (St. Bonaventure Itinerarium Mentis in Deum, Chapter III, 7) Thus the original argument from Bonaventure is incomplete.

An idealistic approach to governance has been pondered for millennia. Plato exhibited this very fact in his Republic. Cicero accuses Plato of “arbitrarily creating an imaginary state”, while Plato is only concerned with how best to preserve truth and virtue in his state. Plato provides a formidable construction of a society, and his approach has been emulated by many philosophers and political theorists since. I will not be following his argumentation, and instead posit that not only is his idealistic society an improper mode of the commonwealth, it is also not possible to be conceived by virtue of Wittgenstein’s analytic theory. This means that not only should a commonwealth be governed pragmatically, it is unable to be understood any other way.

In order to understand how this is to come to pass, a definition and final goal should be outlined.  I will continue to use Cicero’s definition of a commonwealth, which includes a telos in it. Scipio says in Cicero’s dialogue: “The commonwealth, then, is the people’s affair; is the coming together of a considerable number of men who are united by a common agreement about law and rights and by the desire to participate in mutual advantages.” (Cicero, On the Commonwealth) Plato is concerned with how men live by placing them under authority, while Cicero is concerned with how men live when they come together. The end goal for both of these two authors is the happiness of the tenants. The commonwealth is more than just a state, it is the fellowship man has with other men. It is a relational structure built upon the very essence of human nature. An idealistic approach to this structure assumes that justice and virtue will always prevail within man under the right conditions. A pragmatic method deals with things as they are in a practical manner, demonstrating humility and reserving judgment. This is especially pertinent when discussing the condition of man, as the ideal is completely unequipped to deal with the depths of his depravity. Therefore, in order for a commonwealth to function properly, it must take into account all aspects of human nature in order to bring happiness to each respective component. 

“No cry of torment can be greater than the cry of one man. Or again, no torment can be greater than what a single human being may suffer. A man is capable of infinite torment therefore, and so too he can stand in need of infinite help.” (Wittgenstein, L, Culture and Value) Recognizing this reality is the first step to governing a society pragmatically. The human condition lies outside reason, and therefore cannot be rationalized. My thesis can then be expanded:  A pragmatic approach which is able to take into consideration human nature is better suited to government than Plato’s idealism, because it begins with a proper starting point and acknowledges that help is outside man. A truly idealistic philosophy is not possible, whereas a pragmatic recognizes its own limits and is closer to the true good, being Christianity, and necessarily closer to true happiness, the end goal of the commonwealth.

For Plato, spirituality walks hand in hand with philosophy. He employs a system in which philosophers are raised from a young age to know best how to properly cultivate a state so that it may best live in accordance with virtue. “Inasmuch as philosophers only are able to grasp the eternal and unchangeable, and those who wander in the region of the many and variable are not philosophers.” (Plato, Republic, Book 6) In addition, Plato holds an extremely generous view of man in his discourse, believing that the citizens will be able to see the truth and live accordingly. “‘And if the world perceives that what we are saying about him is the truth, will they be angry with philosophy? Will they disbelieve us, when we tell them that no State can be happy which is not designed by artists who imitate the heavenly pattern?’ ‘They will not be angry if they understand.’” (Plato, Republic, Book 6) In the not yet applied concepts of Plato’s Republic, the weight of the burden is on the rulers to act as appropriate conductors of truth and virtue, passing just laws so that they may best emulate these morals in themselves, and that by seeing and following under their guidance, the citizens will morph into rational and willing modal creatures to preserve the integrity of this society. “Let there be one man who has a city obedient to his will, and he might bring into existence the ideal polity about which the world is so incredulous…The ruler may impose the laws and institutions which we have been describing, and the citizens may possibly be willing to obey them? Certainly.” (Plato, Republic, Book 6) Here it is apparent to see the unrealistic view Plato has on the nature of man. At this point in his treatise, he assumes only the best, and presumes no fault in his argumentation.

In an ideal world, Plato theoretically devised a system that is capable of preserving truth, justice and virtue for all who partake in it. This is a noble task, starting from universal goods and applying them to the particulars below. If just one man was capable of the deeds and characteristics that Plato describes, he would prove to be a leader worthy to lead his citizens in a righteous manner. There is one major flaw which Plato attempts to address, but provides an insufficient explanation. This key flaw is a tyrant, for Plato acknowledges the dangers presented by such a figure. “And when his other lusts, amid clouds of incense and perfumes and garlands and wines, and all the pleasures of a dissolute life, now let loose, come buzzing around him, nourishing to the utmost the sting of desire which they implant in his drone-like nature, then at last this lord of the soul, having madness for the captain of his guard, breaks out into a frenzy; and if he finds in himself any good opinions or appetites in process of formation, and there is in him any sense of shame remaining, to these better principles he puts an end, and casts them forth until he has purged away temperance and brought in madness to the full. Yes, that is the way in which the tyrannical man is generated.” (Plato, Republic, Book 9) Plato acknowledges the possibility of a tyrant, which is one in power who forsakes his duty to preserve justice, instead taking a right that is not his in order to serve only himself and neglect the good of those beneath him. Plato’s reckless idealism is very clear when addressing the problem of a tyrant, as his first steps are to reorder the division of the human soul, and demonstrate how a tyrant is actually most unhappy. “Is there any man in whom you will find more of this sort of misery than in the tyrannical man, who is in a fury of passions and desires? Impossible.” (Plato, Republic, Book 9) Plato concludes by presuming that in the perfect case, the issue would take care of itself: “He will look at the city which is within him, and take heed that no disorder occur in it such as might arise either from superfluity or from want; and upon this principle he will regulate his property and gain or spend according to his means.” (Plato, Republic, Book 9) He then remarks yet again that this situation may never even occur. 

Here again Plato remains caught in his own idealism. He does not dwell long on logistical problems because the nature of the ideal necessarily discredits them. The problem of a tyrant only arises if one has presupposed a negative connotation to man based on skepticism. A prudent actor would do this, but Plato has no need for this methodology, as it is not contained within the principles of idealism. If an idealistic society was not idealistic, it would not serve its function, thus one must necessarily look at tyranny from Plato’s lens. From this perspective, there is no reason to believe that under the proper guidance a tyranny would be absolutely stomped out. This creates a logical tautology, where the concept is sound because of its own essence. This is the primary objection to pragmatism, and those who follow this line of thinking present a valid point as long as their view is contained within itself. 

It is for this reason that I assert that idealism cannot truly be known due to Wittgenstein’s analytic approach to logic. Plato does not initially construct his city as an ideal, but his beginning of the account of the ideal. This beginning account is the substance, being that thing which stands underneath, of the state of affairs, which is his ideal state. Before proceeding, Wittgenstein’s terminology must be established in order to garner a proper understanding from his language. (Wittgenstein, L, Tractatus) Wittgenstein calls facts a combination of objects (2.01). What is the case, i.e., being, is a fact, or a state of affairs (2). Objects are circumstances, entities, or things that stand in relation to one another to create a state of affairs (2.01-2.011). In order to know an object, one must know all its internal qualities (2.012321). Substance exists independently of what is the case, and determines the truth value of the state of affairs (2.024). The world is everything that is the case (1). Thus, the hierarchy goes: world, state of affairs/facts, objects, properties, with substance independently comprising the truth value. Applied to Plato’s model of a commonwealth, the ideal society is the state of affairs under the world, with the people being objects that compose the fact through their relations. In order for this fact to be known, however, the objects must be known, and in order for the objects to be known, their properties must be known. Wittgenstein’s previous quote described man as something capable of infinite torment. This capacity for the infinite leads to an infinite number of properties, consequently rendering an understanding of the man, the object, impossible. If it is impossible to know the object, then it is impossible to know the state of affairs composed by the objects. With the ideal society being Plato’s state of affairs containing these objects capable of the infinite, it follows that one cannot truly know the fact, the idyllic. 

If one cannot know the idyllic, then the commonwealth cannot be established according to its methodology. A suitable commonwealth, then, must be one where the constituents are aware of the human condition. They must be aware that an idealistic worldview will not, and cannot function properly with its own parts holding it back. This is the essence of prudence, which when found in the members of the commonwealth provides results that are more to the good, and fulfills the telos of the commonwealth. Nobody better exemplifies this rationale than Augustine, who wrestles with his own passions, desires, and evils. In one quote, he demonstrates not only the utility of the skeptical method, but also how this pragmatic approach more properly reaches this end point of a commonwealth by infusing a realistic understanding of man with the need for a savior, which leads to the straightest path to happiness. “Such things as these I turned over in my wretched heart, burdened with corroding cares from the fear of dying without having discovered the truth. Yet the faith of your Christ, our Lord and Savior (2 Pt 2:20), professed in the Catholic Church, was strongly fixed in my heart. In many ways indeed I was as yet unformed, and I did not always adhere to the rule of sound doctrine yet my mind did not forsake it, but rather more and more imbibed it with each passing day.” (Augustine, Confessions, Book 7.6)

This is not the full extent of love, however, as a disordered intention of using love leads to a corruption of both the self, and love itself. Love is capable of being corrupted into the root which causes other sin (1 Timothy 6:10). More than that, it can completely and utterly strip down the author who wields it, causing a devolution of their proper being, and turning them into a character of evil who serves evil by serving themself. This is where the dichotomy is apparent. One must either apply their love outside of themselves to remain in the good, or direct this love inward and slip away into sin. These are the only two directions one can move in, and they are constantly going in one or the other. While the substance of the action is always the same, the results of a wrong ordering of love can be absolutely disastrous depending on the scenario.

Perhaps no greater misappropriation of this love, and the one that leads to the most detrimental consequences is the action of one crossing over from a monarch to a tyrant. The reason for this is not due to a difference in action, but a difference in scale. King James I diagnosis this problem clearly saying about a monarch, “he will generally favor justice, and maintain some order, except in the particulars wherein his inordinate lust carries him away” (King James 1, The True Law of Free Monarchies) The problem is not the mode or the method, but rather the same sin which infects all working against the man by pretending it is working for him. When someone in a high position of power is grasped by this snare of sin, they ultimately cause far more earthly damage due to the magnitude of their vocation than someone in a lowlier state. 

The particulars of tyranny should also be explained so as to differentiate its scale from other sins of inordinate lust, and as to accurately portray the characters in The Lord of the Rings who fall into this malignant vice. In order to provide an inclusive definition of tyranny, evidence from three sources, Aquinas, Locke, and Cicero, will be pulled. Each of these sources reveal certain attributes of a tyrant that relate to specific characters from Tolkien’s story in Middle-Earth. 

Tyranny is called the opposite of a monarchy by St. Thomas Aquinas, who argues that a monarchy is the best form of government, thus reaching the conclusion that tyranny is the worst. “This same conclusion is also apparent if one considers the evils which come from tyrants. Since a tyrant, despising the common good, seeks his private interest, it follows that he will oppress his subjects in different ways according as he is dominated by different passions to acquire certain goods.” (Thomas Aquinas, On Kingship to the King of Cyprus,) Aquinas also reveals that a tyrant pursues what is wrong as opposed to what is right. “For tyrants hold the good in greater suspicion than the wicked, and to them the valour of others is always fraught with danger.”(Thomas Aquinas, On Kingship to the King of Cyprus). It follows from these quotes that, because the tyrant is dominated by his passions, the goods he strives to acquire are actually evils, and that due to his nature he is either incapable of distinguishing between the two, or chooses to ignore the good regardless.

Likewise John Locke provides an exegesis on how this comes to pass, saying “As usurpation is the exercise of power which another has a right to, so tyranny is the exercise of power beyond right, which nobody can have a right to.” (John Locke, The Second Treatise of Government). This element of usurpation is important, as it demonstrates that nobody has a vocation to be a tyrant. The calling to king is one that requires certain actions one must take in order to properly be of service. Locke acknowledges this difference also saying “The difference betwixt a king and a tyrant to consist only in this: that one makes the laws the bounds of his power, and the good of the public the end of his government; the other makes all give way to his own will and appetite.” (John Locke, The Second Treatise of Government). Serving one’s own will as opposed to others is the epitome of love misplaced, and Locke shows the severity of the impact when this happens to one in a position of significant power.

 Finally, Cicero adds in another crucial element to the duty of a king, that being justice. “When the king ceases to rule justly, the royal form of government is straightway destroyed. The king becomes a tyrant; and tyranny, though closest to the best type, is the worst of all states.” (Cicero, On the Commonwealth). Cicero also describes what such a tyrant becomes, something important for the characters exhibited in Lord of the Rings. He says, “For once the king has adopted a form of rule which is unjust and arbitrary, he becomes forthwith a tyrant, than whom no creature more foul, or loathsome, or detestable to gods or men can be imagined.” (Cicero, On the Commonwealth). This idea of an arbitrary ruler is one that combines the previous definitions of Aquinas and Locke. Someone who rules arbitrarily is someone dominated by passions. It is someone who lacks a proper sense of justice, and someone who does not create laws that serve those under him.

These three examinations of government provide a worthy definition of a tyrant, being someone in power who forsakes his duty to preserve justice, instead taking a right that is not his in order to serve only himself and neglect the good of those beneath him. From this definition, three characters from the story stand out as exhibiting the traits of a tyrant, as well as corresponding closely with a specific particular given by one of the respective sources. Three of the characters who best emulate these expressions of tyranny are Saruman, Denethor, and Sauron. Each one of these rulers express a specific characteristic that aligns him more closely with what one of the authors writes about tyranny.

Before examining these characters, one other concept must be explored, which is corruption. A tyrant is by definition someone corrupted by something else that sways his thoughts and deeds in a way contrary to his intended purpose. Corruption also serves as a result of either an inward or an outward force acting upon the individual agent. There are two prominent examples of corruption leading to tyranny in The Lord of the Rings. Internal corruption is a corruption based on libertarian free will, where “The choice originates with the agent.” This is the corruption that is caused by the inordinate love, but is different to external corruption, which is when a stronger power exerts its will and force upon the agent, causing them to alter their actions against the good. It is clear to see that, while many of the tyrants in Lord of the Rings are corrupted by an outside force, ultimately a choice that they made along the way contributed in a significant manner to that corruption. 

There are three characters in the story who exemplify the above definition of a tyrant. Each one of these have a relation to a specific definition of tyranny, being Saruman in accordance with Aquinas, Denethor in accordance with Locke, and Sauron in accordance with Cicero. While all of the above are tyrants according to the synthesized definition extracted from the conglomerate of sources, some exhibit certain actions or character elements that resonate extremely perspicuously with one author over the others.

Saruman was one who was in a position of high power, being the highest of the order of Istari, the group of Maiar sent to Middle-Earth. In addition, he was a leader of Isengard, given the authority properly at first, but soon seizing it for himself. “Beren also gave into Saruman’s keeping the keys of Orthanc. That tower no enemy had been able to harm or to enter. In this way Saruman began to behave as a lord of Men; for at first he held Isengard as a lieutenant of the Steward and warden of the tower…He then took Isengard for his own and began to make it a place of guarded strength and fear.” (Appendix A, II The house of Eorl). Saruman turned from his vocation, instead seeking to serve only his own private interests. He was aware of the reappearance of the One Ring, and of the shadow of Mordor growing. Instead of capitalizing on his knowledge in order to swiftly end the looming disaster, he used it to his own advantage, following what he believed to be good, but ultimately serving as a hindrance for the fellowship on their quest to destroy the One Ring. As Aquinas says, Saruman was dominated by his passions and allowed them to influence his decisions, pursuing a false good. This led to the creation of the Uruk-Hai, an abomination of Middle-Earth that was a disorderly usage of resources and opportunity. Many under Saruman’s rule suffered on account of his blatant selfishness, and his appraisal of what is wrong as opposed to what is good. While Saruman is somewhat tempted by the ring and a lust for power, his actions still come from within, and he consciously chooses to take the actions he does, making the cause be an inward corruption of the will.

Denethor is another character in The Lord of the Rings who perfectly fits the definition of a tyrant, specifically Locke’s definition. Denethor was a steward of Gondor, but not a true king. He knowingly overstepped his boundaries, usurping the throne for himself, something Locke declared to be a true mark of a tyrant. Denethor had no right to the throne beyond his stewardship, yet seized it for himself, intending to continue his own bloodline through his son. Furthermore, he ordains laws and instructions beyond his right. He hinders his own side on the battlefield, and surrenders himself to death when he believes all hope is lost. He does not fulfill his vocation as a steward, abandoning those below him who look up to him by placing himself on the pyre and allowing death to encompass him in the heat of struggle. Like Saruman, Denethor had some temptation for power caused by outside forces stronger than he, but his actions were ultimately a result of his own lust driving his false claim to the power that he had no right to. His corruption was a result of his own inordinate love.

Finally, Sauron is another entity who accentuates the attributes of a tyrant. The Silmarillion says regarding Sauron, “Now Sauron's lust and pride increased, until he knew no bounds, and he determined to make himself master of all things in Middle-Earth.” Sauron, like Saruman, was a Maiar sent to Middle-Earth, but revoked his calling, instead choosing to serve as a lieutenant to Morgoth. He usurps power and calling that he was not granted as a Maiar by forging the One Ring only for himself. His actions are arbitrary in that they have no purpose beyond his own desire. He has no inclination to serve any beneath him. His actions are not disordered in that he falsely believes he is pursuing a good, but all his actions are manifested as a direct result of his love being turned inward, with absolutely no care or affect on anything else. Because of his disinterest in justice, he becomes the epitome of a tyrant, a creature that, as Cicero said, was more foul, loathsome, and detestable to gods or men beyond all imagination. Sauron was corrupted only by his own volition, purposefully acting in all his ways to serve his own end goal. This is what makes his tyranny the most threatening and most extreme.

 All the conflict that is prevalent in The Lord of the Rings can be reduced to the internal struggle one has with their own desires. If one in significant power concedes to his own passions, he becomes a tyrant, neglecting the common good in pursuit of vain profit of the self. Saruman, Denethor, and Sauron all are tyrants in their own rights, with each one demonstrating specific characteristics of tyranny, but all being corrupted. 

Finally, it is worth mentioning that tyrants, while evil and difficult to overcome, are not invincible. Robert Filmer remarks on tyrants saying “Again, there is no tyrant so barbarously wicked but his own reason and sense will tell him that though he be a god, yet he must die like a man, and that there is not the meanest of his subjects but may find a means to revenge himself of the injustice that is offered him. Hence it is that great tyrants live continually in base fears…” (Robert Filmer Patriarcha). All three of the tyrants mentioned above in the story of The Lord of the Rings fit this description, living in fear and panic that their reign may come to an end. Sauron best demonstrates this, as his arrogance blinds him throughout the entire story, until the very end when the ring is destroyed. When Frodo put on the Ring, Sauron was suddenly aware. “Then his wrath blazed in consuming flame, but his fear rose like a vast black smoke to choke him. For he knew his deadly peril and the thread upon which his doom now hung.” Thus, just as tyrants live in fear, knowing that there may always be something to end their rule, we may live in hope for the same thing. The very element that distresses these creatures is one that serves those in opposition to them. For by turning their back on the good, they make the good their enemy, and by following this good, we will always triumph over a tyrant.

While certain attributes of man are known from the Biblical texts, there are many left to be speculated on. These include questions about personhood, humanity, the mind, the body, and the soul. While there are many aspects and characteristics of man to discuss, they proceed first from the question ‘what constitutes personhood?’. This statement is strongly related to the question ‘what constitutes a human being?’, and the distinction between the two is not insignificant. From this, the assertion can be made: there is a difference between a person and a human being, and this distinction arises from a thorough examination of the soul and the body.

To begin answering the question of what a man is, a proper vocabulary with consistent definitions should be established. ‘Man’ is that which God created to be the pinnacle of His creation. Man must also be defined according to his parts. These are the body, the soul and the essence. The body is that which is made out of matter and flesh, given life by God through creation. The soul is that spiritual entity which gives life to the body. This is affirmed by Aristotle (De Anima, 413), Augustine, (Greatness of the Soul, 33.70), and Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theologica, Question LXXV article 1). Essence is the intrinsic nature or quality of something which determines its character. This also bears a close resemblance to ‘substance’, which is defined as “that which, being ever identical, and ever one in point of numeration with itself, is yet capable of taking on contraries in succession.” (Gregory Thaumaturgus (On the Subject of the Soul, III)

Finally, the most important terms, personhood and human being, will be defined according to a wide variety of philosophers and theologians speaking on the matter, and finalized according to the logical conclusion of their reasoning. These are the terms which best help realize the essence of man, and his nature as God created him.

Theories have been posited for centuries on the nature of a human. Man has been defined according to his body, his soul, and a combination between the two. To fully realize a definition of man, the personhood of man must first be explored, then expanded upon in order to actualize the proper understanding of what a human being is. 

Augustine famously said about the matter of personhood “I myself am my soul.” (St. Augustine, Greatness of the Soul, 30.61) This affirmation gives a great emphasis to the substantiality of the soul, seemingly putting the role of personhood into the spiritual realm. He then adds more to the subject regarding the mind, saying that “the mind seeks to know itself and is inflamed with this desire.” (St. Augustine, On the Trinity, book 10, chapter 3.) This sentiment can be expressed more clearly in just two words: “Know thyself”. An idea recognized by Socrates centuries before Augustine’s time, the phrase is taken by Augustine and used to support his view of the soul, then the person, and finally the man.

Augustine continues this train of thought on the mind’s desire, saying the mind “regards itself as a body…what is there in the body that is stronger than the body, and they judged it to be the mind, or the whole soul in general.” (Augustine, On the Trinity, Book 10, chapter 7.) This allows Augustine to distinguish between the body, and the soul or mind, which he uses interchangeably in his argumentation. This above assertion that the mind seeks to know itself carries with it the important question of how? Upon the command to ‘know thyself’, the mind is able to understand both the command and the intention. In order to fully realize how this is possible, however, a further detailed account of the soul must be given.

The first step of realizing how the soul can know itself, is to establish the essence of the soul. The first step of establishing this essence is to distinguish between the ‘thinghood’ of the soul, and the ‘propertyhood’ of the soul. The ‘thinghood’ of the soul, according to Augustine, exists at a simple, irreducible level. This level is the level of substance hood. (Stewart Goetz, Charles Taliaferro, A Brief history of the Soul, 45) This is proved again by Gregory Thaumaturgus, who argues that, because the soul is that which gives life to the body, it must be a substance, as the imparted life (the body) cannot have something that the imparter of life (the soul) has. 

Because it is established that the soul is a substance, it can then be extrapolated that the soul has the properties of substance hood. The first property is that it is able to take on contraries in succession. This is intrinsic to its substance hood, and allows it to make distinctions, showing the seeds of reason within the soul. The soul also has properties that are not exclusively intrinsic to that nature, however. Augustine speaks more about the properties of the soul, calling the property hood of the soul ‘complex’ due to the multitude of actions that it takes. The soul can include countless qualities, such as emotions, as well as different degrees of quantity to each quality. This is how it is complex. Augustine brings these properties together with the substance of the soul, in a definition of man that he gives, calling it a “rational soul with a mortal and earthly body in its service” (St. Augustine, On the Morals of the Catholic Church, Chapter 27, 52.) 

This amalgamation of properties into the term ‘rational’ gives the answer to the question of how the soul can know itself. By its very nature it is able to understand the term ‘thyself’, thus combining the rationality, the substance, the properties and the object to create the person of ‘thyself’. The combination of elements above also assign number to the soul. The soul understands ‘thyself’, or ‘itself’ according to more modern translations. This makes the soul singular, being only one. The reflexive nature of this pronoun implies furthermore that the one referring to itself (the soul) is it (the soul). This is how Augustine is accurate in his saying “I myself am my soul”.   

Now that it has been established that the soul is rational, and this rationality constitutes one being oneself, there is one final element required to fully actualize the idea of personhood. For according to the above criteria for personhood, man is not exclusive in its participation, but shares it with angels and other heavenly hosts. The defining trait of the soul which distinguishes man’s personhood from other being’s personhood is the will. Augustine says “It is sufficient for our question, why free will should have been given to man, to know that without it man cannot live rightly.” (St. Augustine, On Free Choice of the Will, Book 2, chapter 1) This will establishes two things within the person. First, as Augustine says, the will gives the distinction between living life rightly as opposed to wrongly. Showing again the contraries which the soul is capable of grasping, it also presents a telos (goal) to reason and rationality. The second thing the will establishes is the giving of an object to the faculty of the soul. This object creates relations, and exemplifies another usage of reason within man. This is why the will is that which separates man’s soul from the souls of any other beings.

This view of the soul shows the connection to personhood, but it still does not explain fully what a human being is. While it can be true that “I myself am my soul”, it can also be true that the soul and the ‘I’ alone are insufficient to determine fully what a human being is. Both the terms ‘soul’ and ‘personhood’ are completely abstract, dwelling in a realm outside the physical. In order to completely understand what is meant by a ‘human being’, the physical nature must be attended to.

‘Human being’ is a term which contains personhood, but it is not limited to it. While a human most certainly contains a soul, the other part of it which must be acknowledged is the body. The Bible greatly emphasizes the physical, especially regarding the body. Two prominent instances of this are during creation, and the institution of the Lord’s Supper. In the second chapter of Genesis, God creates man, first forming Adam from the dust of the earth, but then creating Eve from Adam. Adam then makes the important assertion about Eve, the only other human on earth, saying “This at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh” (Gen 2:23). This woman that was created is bone and flesh, not merely an abstract. The body was created by God for us for a purpose. Jesus in the New Testament gives His body to eat. This Supper forgives sins and deposits grace, yet it is a physical object. These two examples further the prominence that the body has not just to man, but before God.

This is where another great philosopher, Thomas Aquinas, presents his view of the soul in relation to man. Thomas Aquinas refers to the soul as the “form of its body”, and maintains that a human being is neither a soul nor a body alone, but rather the two of them together. Aquinas illustrates that the matter of the body is only one part of the species of man. Man’s very nature is to be composed of soul and flesh, and these two elements do not work against each other, but rather in harmony with one another. 

To give one proof of this thesis, Aquinas points to the sensitivity of the soul. This is not a new idea, as Aristotle pointed out the idea of a sensitive soul centuries earlier. This sensitive soul gives the ability of perception to its holder, which accounts for all the bodily senses (De Anima, 415). Augustine too held to the sensitivity of the soul, arguing that the soul is diffused throughout the body, and that when one part of the body feels something, the soul does as well.” When, for instance, there is an ache in the foot, the eye looks at it, the mouth speaks of it, and the hand reaches for it. This, of course, would be impossible, if what of the soul is in these parts did not also experience a sensation in the foot;” (St. Augustine, Immortality of the soul, 16.25)

Aquinas then realizes that this sensitivity is more than just a part of the soul, but something the body partakes in it as well, saying that “sensation is not the operation of the soul alone.” (Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, question 75, article 4) This is affirmed also by Augustine in ‘On the Free Choice of the Will’, where he remarks that while our senses can perceive what they are intended to perceive, they cannot perceive themselves. This perception is done as a combination of both body and soul. Because of this assertion, Thomas Aquinas is able to finally say “Since, then, sensation is an operation of man, but not proper to the soul, it is clear that man is not only a soul, but something composed of soul and body.” (Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologica, question 75, article 4)

Man is composed of body and soul. While the soul exhibits personhood by faculty of its reason and will, the soul is not a complete representation of a human being. Likewise, while the flesh is certainly fundamental to the physical nature of man, it cannot by itself possess life or reason. The soul gives to it what it lacks, while the body provides a habitation for the soul to animate. This combination of a rational, willing soul, and a physical body create a human being. This is also in accordance with Augustine’s final view on man. “for the body would not be man without the soul, nor again would the soul be man if there were not a body animated by it” (St Augustine, Of the Morals of the Catholic Church, book 4, paragraph 6.) This is the final distinction between a person, being the soul governed by faculties of reason and will, and the human being, both the soul and the body together.

The ideal philosophy of education must have certain requirements. It must have a perspicuous, objective telos that guides all proceeding actions for prospective students. This telos is a slightly altered version of one that Plato recognizes. While Plato’s end goal was to come to a close participation with the form of the good, as Christians we realize that it is to come to God, who is Himself the Good. The university’s proper understanding of this end goal must be for the benefit of the students. It does this by expanding three tenets of learning. These tenets present themselves in the form of questions. These are questions of why, how and what should we learn?

A university must be prepared to answer these questions in this order. The titular question ‘Why?’ is central to Socrates’s philosophical method. Without an answer to this, there is no reason to pursue anything. Everyone has a response to this question in some form, whether it is known to them or not, as it is crucial to the formation of a worldview. Socrates attempts to answer the question of ‘why?’ in book one of The Republic by inquiring on the nature of happiness. Happiness is linked with justice, and the just man possesses this happiness as it resides in the soul. He asserts that ‘Justice is the excellence of the soul’, and ‘the just is happy, and the unjust miserable.’ (Plato ‘The Republic’ book 1) Thus, one should align their worldview towards happiness by pursuing justice. For Socrates, justice is in participation with the good, and for Christians, it is in participation with God. This answers the above question. We must learn in order to attain perfect happiness by attempting to align our will with God’s, striving for justice and goodness in all we do. This is useful not only for the benefit of one’s own soul, but also for the propagation of truth and justice to others. The just man is beneficial to those around him, and in seeking harmony with God’s will, necessarily strives to obey His commands and spread His Word. While the answer ‘Why?’ may have ended at the purification of one’s own soul for Socrates, for Christians it must go beyond that. We should, of course, seek after justice and goodness in ourselves, but more so we are called to promote God’s truth, to produce good for others and to proliferate the Gospel. The just man, if taught properly, will recognize this truth and live accordingly. This is absolutely essential to the university model, as teaching students to live not for themselves, but for Christ and for others must be the conclusion drawn that Socrates failed to reach. It is for this reason that the university must respond to the question of ‘Why?’ with this approach.

The next thing a university must be prepared to teach is how to learn. Socrates makes a distinction between knowledge and opinion saying ‘But those who see the absolute and eternal and immutable may be said to know, and not to have opinion only?’ (Plato ‘The Republic’ book 5) Knowledge begins with an object, and each particular subject is held together in God. The question of how to learn must necessarily begin with God. Without this transcendental authority, one will never be able to have more than a vapid opinion on what may or may not be. Thomas Aquinas makes a helpful contrast when he quotes Alcher of Clairvaux’s De Spiritu et Anima ‘intellect (intellectus) has for its object created spirits, while understanding (intelligentia) has for its object God Himself.’ (Thomas Aquinas ‘commentary on the De Trinitate of Boethius’, question 6 article 1). True knowledge is only found in and through God. Thus the answer to the question ‘How?’ is found by realizing the difference between true knowledge and only opinion. It is not enough to learn facts and materially created objects of intelligence, but one must approach understanding in order to master these arts. This is for two reasons, the first being that because understanding begins with God, it is per se fuller than any alternative. Any attempt at understanding that does not have God as its object is arbitrary and unbinding. It lacks truth and thereby all weight and consequence. The second reason is of a more practical nature, as understanding relies on grasping immaterial concepts and providing adaptability to other areas of life. True understanding grants the recipient the tools to learn more efficiently and improve not only their soul, but also their skills in learning with regards to other areas of life.

It is also important to note that within this area of learning, there can be a distinction between practices of education. Plato speaks in another dialogue that knowledge is embedded within humans, and that their learning is a discovery. This thought follows through with Aristotle, who says that ‘Intellectual virtue or excellence owes its origin and development chiefly to teaching, and for that reason requires experience and time. Moral virtue, on the other hand, is formed by habit.’ (Aristotle, ‘Nicomachean Ethics’, Book II, 15) This shows that another facet of education is the repeated practice of habit and work in order to uncover and fully actualize the learning. It is not merely enough to teach the principle of understanding, but also to enforce it and expect production from its beneficiaries. A university should be expected to uphold this habitual practice to the benefit of both the students and those around them.

Finally, a university should answer the question ‘What?’ regarding how to learn. As mentioned above, everything taught should be in accordance with virtue and the habitual practice of it. Under this guidance, a whole array of subjects should be taught, even those deemed impractical or useless. As Socrates says ‘but that the true pilot must pay attention to the year and seasons and sky and stars and winds, and whatever else belongs to his art, if he intends to be really qualified for the command of a ship’ (Plato ‘The Republic’ book 6). This does not limit one to merely one field, but shows how a well rounded complete education in multiple areas is pragmatic. These subjects can be those found in the trivium or quadrivium, it is just necessary that they be done under the guiding hand of Scripture. It is also necessary that the first thing taught is how to discourse civilly and with an open mind. On a practical level, the lack of this is sweeping universities across the nation, with suppression of certain ideas becoming the new normal. We must learn how to speak openly about these ideas, discuss the good and the bad, using logic, reason and Scripture as our guide to navigate them. This exercise is fundamental to our human ontology. In short, what we should learn is how to be human.

Before this Greek thought can be applied to modernity, it must first be broken down even further into its multiple ideas. The first of these is an implication given in the quote, which is that happiness is man’s ultimate desire. While there are different understandings of what happiness is given by subsequent philosophers, such as Aristotle and Augustine, they all affirm it as the telos of man. This is not the object of Symposium, however, as instead it aims to seek a full understanding of what love is, and to show how it is the medium which drives man to happiness. The final statement Socrates reaches with his discussion with Diotima is that love is “the desire for permanent possession of the good.” St. Augustine adds more to it, acknowledging that no act can be done apart from love. “My love is my weight: wherever I go my love is what brings me there” ( Augustine, Confessions, 13.9.10) To summarize, Dr. David Naugle, when writing on the matter, says about the goal of Symposium: “It is this: that Love is the universal principle, energy, or motivation for everybody’s and everything’s activity.” (The Platonic Concept of Love: The Symposium,) 

The second part of the original expression adds a twist to the above ideas, however. It asserts that there are means of pursuing this desire that lay outside of love. At first glance, this appears to be in direct contrast with what Plato and Augustine both say regarding the telos of love. The idea that love is the driving force of all stands in stark opposition that one can act apart from love. This is missing a clear distinction, however, as it neglects to mention the proper object of love, which is that of the good. All of the above hold to a universal idea of good, which is either the form of goodness, God Himself, or the form of goodness inside God’s mind. Hence, love is applied properly when striving for this particular good, while actions derived toward happiness that lie outside of the objective good are those which stem from a misordered intent of love. 

This is where an improper understanding of the good and of love begins to severely detriment man. One issue plaguing modern society is that of an increasing materialist worldview multiplying. This materialism, while based on the ancient atomist worldview posited by Democritus, is not the materialism that asserts that everything is made up of the physical, but rather that material possessions and physical comfort are more important than spiritual values. The materialist worldview has no final goal other than pleasure in the physical. Materialism leads to a downfall of religious values, an increasingly consumerist society, and has led to an influx of hedonism. This all makes sense according to the tenets of its worldview; materialism walks hand in hand with pleasure and the satisfaction of empty desires. It is also very slippery to diagnose, as upon first glance, it is upholding the ancient teachings of man’s ultimate goal, as many argue materialism leads to happiness. 

This is not the case, however and it is absolutely essential to recognize that the idea of the good is a necessary component for true happiness, which is something materialists can never reach. The good, God, or the form of good all curb relativism, and separate true happiness from vain pleasure. Augustine expresses this thought perfectly in his Confession “You have made us for yourself, and we are not at rest until we find our rest in you.” (Augustine, Confessions 1.1). True happiness comes from outside of man, and love is a means of reaching that form of happiness. Plato is astutely aware of this in Symposium, when he transcribes “On this argument, love must be desire for immortality.” (Plato, Symposium, 206 e) This, along with the previous quotes in Symposium, explain that all man does is because of love, and that love is naturally inclined towards an infinite good, or God. This attacks the argument for materialism, as the final goal of man is in accordance with something wholly beyond himself and the pleasures of this world. Love must be ordered to the good, and any action that derives apart from it stems from misordered love. Dr. Naugle presents this thesis: “Love is disordered when it seeks final happiness in temporal and finite objects, an action which engenders all kinds of pathologies in human behavior.” (Dr. David Naugle, St. Augustine's Concept of Disordered Love and its Contemporary Application)

It is now apparent to see why materialism is so detrimental to man. It by nature aims for the finite. All that is material passes away. It has a beginning and an end. Materialism is detrimental to man because it leads him away from the infinite, from the good, and ultimately from true happiness. It is important to acknowledge the actions from the opening quote, money-making, physical fitness, and even philosophy, are in vain if they are practiced without the desire to reach the true good. These activities are not loving in themselves, and do not possess the proper qualities given by Plato and Augustine. 

One final thought on the matter given by Dr. Naugle addresses Augustine’s work in Confessions, and says: “his penetrating insights into the miserable state of the human heart,

and the vanity of life, are very relevant to our day with its angst and neurasthenia.” It acknowledges that man is in a sad state, and that the natural inclination is to sin. Both this sad state of his soul, and the vanity of life, which is expressed fully in materialism, are products of sin, which is the cause of misordered love. While man cannot correct the problem on his own, he is at least able to recognize to some degree that it is there. Only in the death and resurrection of Jesus is he perfected, relying on Christ’s blood. This is the antidote to misordered love, as even with the problem acknowledged, the Socratic philosophers cannot fix their own desires perfectly.

In summary, materialism is a prevalent ideology in modern times, which is a dangerous result of sin. Love, that which drives all action and intent, is only ordered insofar as it reaches for God. While love can be used to pursue other means of pleasure, it is misordered if  it does not approach happiness, or come to an understanding of Christ, which is the ultimate solution for man’s sinful nature and desires.