George Berkeley: A Philosophical Life (Jones)

Jones, Tom.  George Berkeley: A Philosophical Life. Princeton University Press, 2021.

George Berkeley, Bishop of Cloyne, is (in)famous for his view that matter does not exist, or so goes the common understanding.  This biography does not really explore that line.  Tom Jones mentions it, but I think that Jones, who is not a philosopher, realizes the issue is probably beyond his pay grade. He does highlight one metaphysical idea for which he claims is the center of Berkeley’s thought.  It is St Paul’s claim that in God “we live and move and have our being.”  From this one can deduce not only Berkeley’s metaphysics, but also his politics.

Analysis of Berkeley’s ‘Ideas’

For Berkeley, ideas are the regular productions of an organizing intellect.  The object is the idea, overcoming the dualism between idea and object. This represents a tradition that breaks with the earlier epistemology.  As Mortimer Adler noted, older thinkers saw ideas as what one thinks through to the object, not the object itself.

Berkeley is willing to speak of the idea as a thing, but not as a substance.  So far, the idea is passive.    But in this world of ideas we also have “spirits,” having both understanding and will.  The understanding perceives ideas and the will operates about them. In both cases, understanding and willing, they are relations but ideas themselves.

Berkeley introduces another notion, that of Notion.  It is a type of knowledge we have of spirits and relations. The identity of the person consists in the identity of will, with spirits as “fundamentally willing substance.”

The author makes clear he does not share Berkeley’s view of God.  This could mean he does not share Berkeley’s idealism, and that is understandable. I do not think that is what he means.  The “nuts and bolts” of Berkeley’s theology is fairly mainstream among conservative Protestants. I take it the author is agnostic on the existence of God.  In any case, it does not detract from his work.  He genuinely wants to understand why Berkeley believed what he did.

For the author, Berkeley’s metaphysics, theology, and politics represents “a morally committed and politically privileged Anglicanism equally…draw[ing] on his concept of the end of human life as participation in divinity. We participate–literally–in the will of God by “entering into a hierarchical network of obligations, dependencies, and responsibilities.”

“All properties of mind in lower orders of being are derived from the infinite mind, and the true student of nature looks up from the study of the physical world to see that ‘the mind contains all, and acts all, and is to all created beings the source of unity, harmony and order, existence and stability.”

Birth to a New Doctrine

Author’s aim: “this suite of writings [of Berkeley’s] serves a social and religious programme.”

Although his philosophy appears bizarre, Berkeley thought he had good reason for it, grounding it in St Paul’s claim that in God we live and move and have our being.  At this point in the narrative neither Jones nor Berkeley draw an obvious inference: the foundation of all reality is Spirit, namely God’s Spirit, not matter. If Berkeley’s philosophy ultimately proves unworkable, the previous proposition nonetheless remains true.

Skepticism, according to Berkeley: ‘Men thought that real things subsisted without the Mind, and that their knowledge was only so far forth real as it was conformable to real Things.’ This seems fairly innocuous, but in the 20th century it would have devastating consequences.

Interesting note: Primary qualities are inseparable from bodies; “secondary qualities are powers of primary qualities.” In other words, according to Berkeley, you cannot “form an idea of these primary…

Passive Obedience and Early Politics

Berkeley’s politics are fairly standard among Anglican Tories, but we should probably gloss what Tory did and did not mean, or perhaps could mean, in the eighteenth century. A Tory could have been a supporter of the Pretender, the exiled Stuart monarch.  As a firm defender of the Church of England, Berkeley was not that.  But there was a new type of Toryism emerging: a defender of the monarchy and the established church as such, often in opposition to mercantile Whigs.

This perhaps strains some of Jones’s analysis: Berkeley’s politics are fairly standard.  There is little need for his metaphysics, at least his idealism, to ground it.  If all one wants is a monarchy and an established church, you do not need to accept Berkeley’s package deal.  But Jones might be arguing for something else:  Berkeley grounds his politics not in his idealism, but in his view from St Paul: In God we live and move and have our being.  From there, no doubt supplied by numerous premises, one can see a subordinated society not unlike Alexander Pope’s vision of a Great Chain of Being. Each link in a chain participates in the one above it.  In Jones’s words, “Participation is by subordination.” It is not without reason that both Berkeley and Jones spend some time discussing Plotinus.

Berkeley Against the Freethinkers

Berkeley, like many conservative churchmen of his day, opposed the rise of skepticism and “free-thinking.”  Unlike other churchmen, he saw them as part of a Roman Catholic plot to destroy Protestant societies.  Although this belief is probably wrong in the specifics, the epistemology of both Jesuits and freethinkers is the same.

Conclusion and Evaluation

Despite Berkeley’s metaphysical notoriety, Jones spends little time on it.  Jones is a student of literature, not philosophy and theology.  Indeed, Jones mentions the doctrine of the Trinity as “three people and one person.”  That was painful to read. Notwithstanding that gaffe, Jones gives us a good picture of the life and world of Bishop Berkeley.

Our Church: A Personal History of the Church of England (Scruton)

Scuton, Sir Roger.  Our Church.

Sir Roger’s memoir, if one could call it that, tells of a church’s story, of how the identity of the Anglican Church intertwined itself with that of the English nation.  Our first response is naturally to “tsk-tsk,” seeing the low fortunes today of both Britain and the Church of England. That may indeed be the correct response, but such a response would miss something: the church–a specifically Protestant church–managed to seep into the very essence of a people, even if they at times no longer believed in that essence. Sir Roger tells us that people who fail to see the Anglican church as England’s national church will also fail to understand England’s identity.

The Church managed to do this primarily through the tools of liturgy and the Book of Common Prayer, along with the King James Version. Church rites are “‘points of intersection of the timeless/With time,’ moments at which eternity is made manifest in rituals.”  Indeed, “when it comes to the transcendental, trust is all we can give.”

While the Christian Nationalism phenomenon will (blessedly) soon fade from the scene, the Anglican church is probably the best example of a successful Christian nationalism. “The Church of England is heir to the conciliar tradition and to the alliance between secular government and doctrinal conformity that was forged in the early councils.”  If Christian Nationalists were smart (they aren’t), they would settle for something like an earlier Anglicanism.  It comes with a price, though: the king must be the judicial head of the church.  That rules out Baptists and Presbyterians.  Why the king, though?  This is only a guess (and since Christian nationalism will never get off the ground, it remains only a theory). The monarch (or monarchy) is the focal point of the people, providing a unity for the nation that a General Assembly just cannot give.

Is it still possible to have non-monarchical/non-Erastian Christian nationalisms? I suppose it might be, though one would be hard-pressed to find workable examples today.

The American Anglican church descended from the Episcoal Church of Scotland, bypassing the need to acknowledge the king as head of the church.

“English churches tell of a people who for several centuries have preferred seriousness to doctrine and routine to enthusiasm–people who hope for immortality but do not really expect it, except as a piece of English earth.”

“God, as represented in the tradition of the Anglican Church, is an Englishman, uncomfortable in the presence of enthusiasm, reluctant to make a fuss, but trapped into making public speeches.”

“The Anglican church, by contrast, is a place of light and shade, of tombs and recesses, of leaf mouldings and windows decked with Gothic tracery and leaded glass.”

The Book of Common Prayer

“Words like ‘almighty’ and ‘everlasting’, phrases like ‘the author of peace and lover of concord, transfigure the things and situations to which they are applied. They are familiar, dignified words, which lose nothing from repetition.”

The Church and Politics

“Wesley himself showed no tendency to political radicalism, ending his life as he had begun it, a settled Tory.”

“While it may have been true at the end of the nineteenth century to describe the Anglican Church as the Tory Party at prayer, it would be more correct to say, of its leaders today, that they represent the Labour Party trying to remember how to pray, while not really understanding the point of it.”

Church and Culture

Speaking of public schools: “And the quarantining of female sexuality meant that women were divided, in the thinking of Victorian schoolboys, into two classes: virgins and whores, both forbidden.”

“J. K. Rowling’s Hogwarts, for all its pagan accessories, is an Anglican institution, as Gothic a settlement as any chaplain-haunted public school.”

Criticisms

Despite his legendary status as a conservative philosopher and cultural critic, Sir Roger was not a theologian, and that is painfully evident in places. He freely admits towards the end that his view of the church and Christian life would not “stand under the rigor of Calvinist scrutiny.” The book should not be read as theology, though.  It is a memoir, with all of the strengths and foibles of the narrator.

Philosophy for Dummies (Tom Morris)

Morris, Tom.  Philosophy for Dummies.

Its title notwithstanding, or perhaps because of its title and format, this is the best introductory text to philosophy that I have read. It is not entirely a basic philosophy text, nor is it a philosophy of religion text. It is a mixture of both. It covers basic issues like knowledge and metaphysics, while exploring challenges to theistic belief.

Tom Morris, former philosophy professor at Notre Dame and author of classics such as Our Idea of God and Logic of God Incarnate, brings philosophy down to the bottom shelf, so to speak.  As with all of Morris’s new books, this could not be boring if it tried.  This book divides the topic along the standard lines of Philosophy of Religion, the early chapters covering issues such as epistemology. After dealing with knowledge and ethics, Morris explores the existence of God, the problem of the afterlife, free will, and the soul. Some of it, particularly the section on Pascal, can be found in other works.  Accordingly, his treatment on the existence and nature of God, while excellent, can be found in Our Idea of God, which you should read.

While the book is from a Christian theistic perspective, Morris alerts the reader, and readers of all persuasions, to the various options and challenges on each topic.

Belief, Truth, and Knowledge

In terms of epistemology, Morris follows the standard model of knowledge as justified, true belief.  Unlike some treatments of knowledge, Morris explains, perhaps in ways Plato could not always do, the connection between knowledge and behavior, as seen in the following equation:   Belief + Desires = Actions.  Knowledge is an “attainment” (46).  “Believing is an activity; knowing is the intended result.”

Challenge of Skepticism

Knowledge, particularly as defined above, is simple–perhaps too simple. As Esther Lightcap Meek noted in Longing to Know, if Western philosophy was birthed in Platonism, its cradle was skepticism. Why do you believe what you believe?  As Morris notes, “All of your beliefs about the past depend upon testimony,  memory, or both, or else by sense-experience, augmented by testimony and memory” (63). But that is a problem: How do you know testimony and memory are reliable? We normally try to answer this question by appealing to our own memory to justify our memory, but this is circular reasoning.

In other words, you cannot logically prove that you did not come into existence five minutes ago with pre-formed memories.  How can one respond to that?  Morris gives us a tool: the principle of belief conservation.

“For any proposition, P: If

  1. Taking a certain cognitive stance toward P…would require rejecting or doubting a vast number of your current beliefs, and
  2. You have no independent positive reason to reject or doubt all those other beliefs, and
  3. You have no compelling reason to take up that cognitive stance toward P” (80).

Therefore,

“Sense experience, memory, testimony, and our basic-belief forming mechanisms are sometimes reliable” (83).

We can turn the tables on the skeptic:  “Sure, I cannot prove I am older than five minutes, but you have given me no reason to think your position is correct. You cannot simply say, ‘Here is an outlandish claim, now prove me wrong.’”  

We can also use “William James’ ‘Pre-formative faith.’” James argues that we have a rational warrant to sometimes go beyond the evidence “if the chance to so believe is a genuine option” (86). This is how detectives work. It is also how crossword puzzles work.

What is the Good?

Most people believe that there is an objective right and wrong–at least they do when they are treated unfairly, as C. S. Lewis eloquently stated.  One challenge to this view is Non-cognitivism: there is no objective good.  Value statements like “x is bad” only reflect my personal preference, basically saying “x boo!” It is open to several devastating defeaters.  It gets rid of all moral disagreement.  If someone is pro-choice and the other is pro-life, the non-cognitivist says they are not actually disagreeing about a fact, but this is silly. Moreover, as Morris asks, “Why do people cheer or jeer a proposition?” It is because a position is right or wrong.

Teleological Target Practice

According to Aristotle, “Something is good when it successfully hits the target for which it was intended” (quoted in Morris, 102). Morris does not bring it out, but this is similar to the claim made by Hebraic philosophers like Yoram Hazony and Dru Johnson that an object is “true” when it fulfills its purpose.  For example, a true path is one that gets me to my destination.

Happiness and the Good Life

Four Dimensions of Human Experience

Similar to his If Aristotle Ran General Motors, Morris sees four dimensions of the human experience: Truth, Goodness, Beauty + the Spiritual. The first three, if not self-evident, are at least familiar.  By contrast, the spiritual dimension aims to capture our deep need for the following: Unique, Union, Usefulness, and Understanding.

Ethical Rules and Moral Character

Hume was wrong to say all ethics is feeling, but he did capture an important point, one that Morris notes: “It is precisely people devoid of natural sentiment, that affection of fellow-feeling so natural to most, who commit heinous crimes and immoral acts” (130).

Character: the settled set of dispositions and habits (131ff).

Wisdom: An embodied form of deep understanding, or insight, into how things really are, and how then you ought to live.

Virtue: the strength or ongoing habit to act in accordance with wisdom.

7 Cs of Success

Conception, Confidence, Concentration, Consistency, Commitment, Character, and Capacious Enjoyment.

This material is found in his Art of Achievement.  We will focus on conception. Conception has a telos or goal.  A “telos” is a target we can shoot at.  This is a clear conception of what we want. In order to have clear goals, we need to set them with our self-knowledge in mind.  As Morris notes, “Goal setting is an exercise in self-knowledge.”

Pascal and a Life Worth Meaning

Taken from material in Making Sense of It All, Morris gives us not an argument for the existence of God but an argument for the existence of meaning in life. To make a crude oversimplification, it is an argument, not only for living, but even for business. A good wager will account for “expected value” (112ff).

(EV): (Probability x Payoff) – Cost = Expected Value.

Morris gives the following example.  Gold (a horse) has a ⅔ probability of winning with a payoff of $300.  Placing a bet costs sixty dollars. Silver, by contrast, “pays nine hundred dollars, and to bet on this horse costs only $20” (112-113). Even with only a ⅓ probability of winning, Silver is clearly the best bet.

The key strategy is not how much money I get at the end, but how I can quantify “the overall value of each bet.”

The goal here is not to get the person to believe in God.  Pascal, rather, is seeking to structure our actions, which can sometimes condition our beliefs.

Conclusion

I read this in a few sittings.  Philosophy aside, Morris has  numerous engaging and amusing anecdotes.  This actually would be a good book for a Freshman philosophy class.  Barring that, it is a good resource for a thoughtful high school student.

The Last King of America (Andrew Roberts)

Roberts, Andrew.  The Last King of America: The Misunderstood Reign of George III.  New York: Viking, 2021.

His Majesty, King George III, was a man more sinned against than sinning.  Everything bad we have heard against King George needs to be taken with a grain of salt.  True, he did suffer from some sort of mental illness for a time.  To be sure, he did not always choose the best of advisors, and his opposition to Pitt the Younger is hard to explain, as it did not benefit George in any tangible way. Nonetheless, the criticisms made by Whigs like Walpole and Freemasons and Deists in the colonies were almost certainly wrong.  His Majesty was a pious and patriotic man. Although he lost America, he simultaneously checked French and Spanish power (and perhaps, ironically, made parts of America safer for Americans).

This review will praise King George III.  He was not perfect, though, and on a number of counts he was wrong.  Interestingly enough, none of these overlaps with the criticisms made by Jefferson and Whig historians. George’s son, the Prince of Wales, was a profligate, though never as bad as Amnon and Absolom.  And while George opposed slavery, he never made its abolition a public policy.  That was done by Wilberforce and Pitt.

His Upbringing

Again, contrary to Horace Walpole (that phrase should be a theme in this review), His Majesty had a disciplined and rigorous education.

His Marriage

Unlike many monarchs then (and politicians today), George was chaste and faithful in his marriage.  For nearly sixty years the royal purse did not have to make payments to royal mistresses. Indeed, even years into their marriage, George, returning from a tour and longing to see his wife, upon seeing her carriage approach, “he was so impatient to see the Queen that he opened the chaise and jumped out before any of his attendants could come to his assistance. He seized the Queen, whom he had met at the door, round the waist, and carried her in his arms.’ Roberts concludes: “Alone of the Hanoverians, his marriage was a genuine love-match” (230).

His Person

He was a pious monarch.  Upon coming to the throne, he “issued a proclamation ‘for the encouragement of piety and virtue

Among his own people, he was a truly popular monarch.  As London was rioting over the actions of the pro-democracy advocate and p0rnographer John Wilkes, George had no qualms about appearing in public, noting, “My people will not hurt me” (229). He was correct. Later on, when a different mob became more serious, threatening to march on Buckingham Palace, George replied, “that he wished they would push their insolence so far; he should then be justified in repelling it, and giving proper orders to the guards’ (by which, presumably, he meant shoot to kill)” (184). He was again correct.  Mobs that riot in favor of p0rnographers should be dealt with in such fashion.

Around the French and Indian War

England had to win this war.  That might have been the problem. It saddled England with debt, to be sure, but there is nothing strange about that. That is true of every country.  It does not even bother modern-day America.  To face this debt, George knew he had to cut expenditures and raise taxes. He was going to be unpopular.

The first cut was to the army.  Britain now had a smaller army to defend a larger frontier.  This puts to rest another line of American propaganda: the British army was not the finest force in the world.  It was relatively small and its soldiers untrained.  

In terms of taxes, the American colonials paid less than many Britons. Moreover, most of the tax money stayed in America.  As taxation went, the colonies had it easy.  That is not to say they did not have a good case for independence.  They certainly did. For all practical purposes, America was its own country.

Nonetheless, as historians are coming to realize, the rhetoric about “oppression” in the colonies was sheer nonsense. Roberts cites Hans Kohn’s Idea of Nationalism: “Politically the colonists were infinitely freer than any people on the European continent; they were even freer than Englishmen in Great Britain” (cited in Roberts, 108). As Roberts notes, they had a chance to work out the implications of Locke and Milton while Britain’s armies protected them.

The Revolution

There was no injustice in taxing the colonies, yet there was no wisdom in how it was done.  The Stamp Act had the unfortunate effect of targeting the merchant and lawyer classes, the very ones who would vocally oppose it.  To make matters worse, the projected revenue from the tax would nowhere near cover the burden of the debt.  

As to quartering troops, it was George who opposed the clause that allowed for billeting troops in a home.  Rather, the colonies were required to build barracks and inns for the troops.  The sensational horrors of rude redcoats taking liberties with colonial women were largely stories.  Good stories, but still fiction, nonetheless. In any case, the colonies had been quartering troops for a good part of twenty years before they perceived a problem with it.

If George were truly a tyrant, he would have stationed more agents of the Crown in the colonies.  The very fact that the colonists could make the case for independence based on decades of practical autonomy belies the claim that George was truly an autocrat.  Moreover, if George were truly a tyrant, it stuns belief that he would have allowed the colonies even to set up their own Congress. Moreover, if George were truly a tyrant, would he have allowed Thomas Paine to return to England after the war?  Paine, it should be noted, in the pay of the American government, had been planning a French invasion of Britain.  The man deserved to be hanged. George ignored him. To echo Mark Antony, “This is hardly the stuff of ambition [tyranny].”

The Olive Branch Petition

Peace was still possible after the war had started.  Indeed, some colonial leaders were even willing to submit to the crown, if only under limited circumstances.  While it might have seemed wise for George to accept the Olive Branch Petition, to do so would be to go against Parliament. Technically, George was king in Parliament.  Going against Parliament would mean legally going against himself.  Moreover, such an act would have been actually tyrannical, thus justifying the charges that Jefferson and others brought against George.  This makes it abundantly clear that George was anything but a tyrant.

For all of the rhetoric about King George’s “tyranny,” if the colonists wanted to see what European tyranny looked like, they could examine the actual torture and mass slaughter engaged in by Russia, Spain, France, and Austria.  Or they could even look at how the colonists tarred and feathered the king’s officials, a blatant violation of Romans 13.

Unfortunately, even the great Edmund Burke was not immune to revolutionary propaganda. His Present Discontents blasted “the personal rule” of the king (209), arguing that he “worked through a cabal or Junto.” Burke supplies no evidence for his claim and George III had the same powers, which he did not exercise, that William III had one hundred years earlier.  William, it should be noted, was a model for Burke of good government.

Burke’s fallacious argument notwithstanding, King George firmly exercised but one prerogative: “the rights of the Westminster Parliament over his American colonies” (211). Had he not upheld those rights he would have been truly guilty of breaking the law.

Response to Thomas Paine

Although the p0rnographer John Wilkes was now quiet, George had to deal with, or at least suffer, the incessant ravings of the Deist Thomas Paine. Let us get this over with.  Roberts surveys the works of several historians, noting that Paine was “full of rage at the ways the Old World had kept him down” (287). But we shan’t speak of his character or personality, though, unfortunately, the latter seeps through into his writings. At this point I will quote Paine’s words along with commentary by Roberts.  That alone will serve as refutation.

Paine: King George was “a sottish, stupid, stubborn, worthless, brutish man.”
Roberts: “Calling the King sottish was particularly inaccurate in relation to someone who rarely drank alcohol and never to excess–unlike Paine himself” (288).

Paine: “the royal brute of Britain, the royal criminal…a full-blooded Nero.”

Roberts: “He argued that Americans had to choose between independence and slavery, which as one of his modern critics David Pryce-Jones points out was ‘imagining a polarisation that sounded urgent but was factitious, quite false’ since the status quo was of course neither of those things” (288).

Paine wrote for the average reader, not the educated one.  And if he did not write well, per se, he wrote effectively.

Response to the Declaration

Thomas Jefferson was a far more formidable opponent than Thomas Paine. Paine was good at using adjectives and superlatives, never at logic and facts.  While Jefferson’s use of logic is quite tenuous at times, he was a more serious thinker.  The second section of the Declaration, listing a number of charges against George, deserves a point-by-point rebuttal, at least of the more outlandish claims.

Jefferson: “ The history of the present King of Great Britain is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute Tyranny over these States.

Roberts: “These charges were kept deliberately unspecific regarding places and dates, for the obvious reason that most were untrue, since George had never sought to establish any kind of tyranny over America” (295).

Jefferson: He has refused his Assent to Laws, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.

Roberts: “This probably refers to the vetoing of colonial laws creating paper money, granting divorces, etc…Flooding the colonies with inflationary paper money would hardly be ‘wholesome and necessary to the public good’” (296). Moreover, the king had the legitimate right to veto laws, just like the American president does today.  And America has the same right to the Acts of the Puerto Rico legislature.  As Roberts notes, “This is what empires do.”

The second and third charges are rather technical, about which nobody cares.   Charges four through six refer to interference with legislatures.  They refer to specific actions after the revolutionary movement had begun.  As Hutchinson commented, “Thus…the regular use of the prerogative in suppressing a begun revolut is urged as a grievance to justify the revolt’” (quoted in Roberts 297).

Jefferson: refused for a long time, after such dissolutions, to cause others to be elected; whereby the Legislative powers…”

Roberts: The long time was “three months” and the danger of invasion came not from without, but from patriot mobs within, one of which burned Hutchison’s home.

Charge seven deals with naturalization of foreigners, which was designed to check smuggling.

Jefferson: “The king had kept among us, in times of peace, standing armies without the consent of the legislatures.”

Roberts: Aside from Jefferson’s earlier and excised remarks about slavery, “this was perhaps the most hypocritical allegation of those that remained…A standing army on the western border had been the only way of protecting the colonies [, and] the assemblies had actually voted their thanks for what the British Army had done” (298-299).

Charge thirteen is interesting–and confusing.  It seems that “George was being criticized by Jefferson for not vetoing bills in America, even though he had not and was not to veto any in his whole reign, just as George I and George II had not” (300). He is being criticized for inaction, hardly the stuff of tyrants.

Charge fourteen dealt with housing troops, “and here Jefferson was on slightly stronger ground.” Practically, though, this had been life for the past twenty years and no one complained until now.

Charge sixteen “attacked the king for cutting off trade with all parts of the world.”  What Jefferson neglected to mention was this had been in the books since Oliver Cromwell in 1651.

Charge eighteen complained of non-jury trials.  This was technically true in some instances, but it was a fact of life–one which the United States used to combat smuggling until the twentieth century (302).

Charge twenty-four complained of ravaged coasts and burned towns, “a reference to the destruction of Norfolk (which was mainly carried out by Patriots).” The acts of George in response to the uprising are now given as causes for the uprising itself (303).

Even John Adams himself thought much of the Declaration was over the top: “I never believed George to be a tyrant in disposition and nature…I thought the expression too passionate and too much like scolding” (quoted in Roberts 306).

Gordon Riots

Though I loathe everything about John Wilkes, I will credit him on this point: he took an active role in stopping the Gordon Riots.  I will leave it at that.

After the Revolution

Britain won a series of key naval battles between the defeat at Yorktown and the signing of the Treaty.  This effectively removed French naval power from the West Indies and India, securing the latter under British rule until 1947. George may have lost thirteen colonies, but he gained an entire subcontinent.

Nonetheless, Britain lost the colonies, some of them anyway, and she lost it under George’s watch.

Conclusion

This is historical writing at its finest.  Lord Roberts brings all his skills to bear.

Life’s Ultimate Questions by Ronald Nash

Nash, Ronald.  Life’s Ultimate Questions.

I think I have figured out the problem with “worldview.”  It was originally meant to be used as a tool.  We have turned it into an end-goal.  No, the situation is even worse.  We have turned it into a commodity.  That is why worldview talk today is basically useless.  We hear a lot about how “this is in conflict with a Christian worldview.” Rarely do we hear anything of how belief-forming mechanisms work or exactly why socialism always leads to shortages and gluts. It did not always have to be this way.  There was once a better way to talk about worldview analysis.  Ronald H. Nash offers one such model.

For the moment–maybe forever–let us put aside the term “worldview.”  We will use “system” instead.  Nash argues that the case for or against Christian theism should be made and evaluated in terms of total systems.  A system must meet several tests: the law of noncontradiction, outer experience, internal cohesion, and practice. Could there be more criteria?  Possibly, but the above are a good start.

Naturalism

A naturalist believes “the physical universe is the sum total of all there is.”  

The most intuitive problem with naturalism is the process of reasoning itself.  C.S. Lewis and most recently Alvin Plantinga point out that reasoning exceeds the bounds of nature, or at least it is not clear how biological reactions can create the law of non-contradiction.

Moreover, it seems naturalism reduces to physicalism, and this is a problem.  “If truth, a proposition, or a thought were some physical motion in the brain, no two persons could have the same thought.”

Plato

Nash updates Platonic language by speaking more of sets than forms.  This is a clear gain. We can now rephrase Plato to say “that every class of objects in the physical world has an archetype or a perfect pattern existing in the immutable, eternal, and immaterial world.”  We do not need to accept Plato’s conclusions–indeed, until we get to St. Augustine we are better off not accepting him–but he does provide the reader with a number of conceptual tools.  For example, “An essence is the set of essential properties without which a particular thing like this squirrel or that tree would not exist as a squirrel or tree.”

Plato’s realm of forms is too neat.  It works in some areas but not in others.  For example, “One could not know that a and b are equal unless he already knew the standard, Equal itself.”  We know universals prior to the particular.  Unfortunately, finding out how this knowledge arrives leads to some problems, namely reincarnation.

Aristotle

Our discussion of Aristotle will turn mainly on his definitions of terms, since much of Aristotle will be repeated in Aquinas. Nash summarizes Aristotle’s view of substance as “any given thing that exists or has being.” A substance is composed of matter and form, the latter being the “set of essential properties that makes it the kind of thing it is.”

An essential property is a property of x, which if it lost, x would cease to be x. A common property “is any property that  human beings [for example] typically possess without also being essential.”  For example, the property of having ten toes is common, but not essential.

Plotinus

Of all the ancient philosophers, Plotinus is easily the most interesting and most powerful.  

Main idea: the One necessarily expands downward.  The next level is the Nous, or the One’s thinking.  Then there is soul, and finally bodies or matter.

The One is so “one-ish” that attributing any property to it compromises its unity.  As Nash notes, “If we say ‘The One is x,’ we introduce dualism into the One via the distinction between subject and predicate.” Even saying the One is unknowable does not help, for already we seem to know quite a few things about the One.

If this One is “God,” then how do we relate to it?  As best one (sorry!) can tell, you can only relate to it by some mystical catching up into it.

Plotinus’s universe

Is Matter evil for Plotinus?  No.  It would be a mistake to call him a Gnostic.   Matter does represent some sort of fall in being, but that means it is less good rather than evil.

Augustine

Although much of this is familiar material, Nash has some helpful charts for explaining Augustine’s thought. Nash does a fine job explaining, for example, Augustine’s epistemology.  It is more than simply “faith seeking understanding.” It is illumination.  It is a correlation of being and knowing.

Illumination: God, Soul, and Sun

In a familiar metaphor, Augustine believes “God is to the soul what the sun is to the eye. God is not only the truth in, by, and through whom all truths are true….He is also the light in, by, and through whom all intelligible things are illumined.”

Aquinas

I am going to skip much of this thought.  Although presuppositionalists have done a uniformly terrible job at explaining Aquinas, Nash seems to get it right.  

The Law of Non-contradiction

Simply put, A cannot be B and ~B at the same time and in the same relationship.  

So far, so good.  B represents the class of all dogs (or humans).  Non-B is its complement, everything else in the universe that is not a dog. Nash explains by way of a lengthy quote from Gordon Clark:

“If contradictory statements are true of the same subject at the same time, evidently all things will be the same thing. Socrates will be a ship, a house, as well as a man. But if precisely the same attributes attach to Crito that attach to Socrates it follows that Socrates is Crito. Not only so, but the ship in the harbor, since it has the same list of attributes too, will be identified with this Socrates-Crito person. In fact, everything will be the same thing. All differences among things will vanish and all will be one.”

But does this apply to God?  Would not this reduce God to human logic? Nash responds:

“If God does operate according to a different logic, a higher logic in which B and non-B are indistinguishable, nothing would prevent God at the final judgment from announcing that there

is no difference between believers and nonbelievers and between God’s keeping and breaking his promises. But there is no need to get upset, because on such grounds there can also be no difference between heaven and hell.”

But one may still object that God may be internally contradictory, having his own sort of logic where the law of non-contradiction need not apply.  If that is true, then they could not know it, for communication presupposes this very law.

Possible Worlds

This is where it gets fun.  Before proceeding, one should define a number of terms.

Proposition: that which is expressed in a sentence’s meaning.

State of affairs: an inadequate definition would be that which obtains if a proposition is true.  It is better illustrated in the following diagram:

The above is fairly common sense.  Some pious Christians might balk at what follows: true propositions are eternal entities. This seems to follow from one’s definition of truth.  If truth is unchanging, then it seems to be eternal. Such truths would be in the mind of God.

Possible world: a possible world is a way the world could have been. All that one needs is for a state of affairs a) to be different and b) logically consistent.

Book: for every possible world, the book is the sum total of all true propositions.

Lest we get too excited, not every counterfactual state of affairs is a possible world.  More likely, it is only a slice of a possible world.

Lest this get too abstract, there is a very real pay-off: possible worlds allow us to define essential and non-essential properties, so necessary for Christology (to name but one example). An essential property is one that I possess in every possible world. Let’s apply this to discussions of God.

According to Nash, “A divine attribute then is a property that God could not lose and continue to be God; it is an essential property of God, existing in every possible world.

Epistemology

Nash, although a Clarkian of sorts, seems to hold to the correspondence theory of truth: “Truth is a property of propositions that correspond to the way things are.”

How, then, do we arrive at true beliefs?  It is to Nash’s great credit that he draws upon the Reformed Epistemology school’s use of Thomas Reid.  He quotes Wolterstorff on Reid: “At the very foundation of Reid’s approach is his claim that at any point in our lives we have a variety of dispositions, inclinations, propensities, to believe things–belief dispositions we may call them. What accounts for our beliefs, in the vast majority of cases anyway, is the triggering of one and another such disposition.”

On open theism: “When I think about this view of God, I often find myself in a situation wanting to pray for this God.  I would probably do that, except under the circumstances, I’m not sure who I should pray to.”

Ethics and Emotivism

Problems with emotivism:

  1. Every ethical judgment is correct, for how can my feelings be wrong?
  2. All moral actions are good and bad at the same time
  3. No one actually disagrees over moral issues
  4. It implies a contradiction: if someone says, “I like to get drunk, but I know it is wrong,” he actually means “I like to get drunk, but I don’t like to get drunk.”

Conclusion

This is probably my favorite text on worldview. It is somewhat technical in parts, so it might not be the first text to start with.

William James (Clark)

Clark, Gordon H.  Willam James. Phillipsburg, NJ: Presbyterian & Reformed Publishing Co., 1975.

In this little monograph, Gordon H. Clark surveys and analyzes William James’ pragmatism, giving particular attention to James’ early work on pluralism and his later and more popular works on pragmatism.

William James began, if not a full Hegelian, at least as an Idealist before becoming known as a pragmatist.  Seeing that monism and pantheism could not account for the plurality of the world, James sought refuge in pluralism. The question remains: how successful was he?

James defines empiricism as “the habit of explaining wholes by parts” (quoted in Clark 13). He is already off to a perilous start, for Clark points out: “a circle cannot be explained in terms of its arcs because an arc is defined in terms of a circle” (13).

James did not like Hegelianism, but he still wanted “intimacy.” One should quickly point out that intimacy does not mean what it currently means in modern parlance.  With that said, it is not exactly clear what James himself means by it. At this point in the narrative, it probably means something like “connection with.” James goes on to explain his rejection of theism because its God is “wholly Other.” (What James meant was something like the Creator-creature distinction, not Barthianism).

James’ problem now should be obvious: as an empiricist, he wants to explain wholes by parts, but he still wants at least one conclusion of idealist pantheism: union with y. His vague definition notwithstanding, James doubles down: “Not to demand intimate relations with the universe, and not to wish them satisfactory, should be accounted signs of something wrong.”  Clark makes the obvious reply: “But how can anyone be intimate with the universe, or any part of it, except persons and perhaps a pet dog?  To talk of being intimate with a cement driveway…is to use words without meaning” (15).

If James were to continue this line of argument, he might seem to think of himself, still attached or one with the Absolute, as a god.  That is a familiar line in human history.  As Clark notes, however, it is much harder to think of the cement driveway as a god (16). We must leave James’ idealism here, for he eventually abandons it.

Pragmatism

Following Charles S. Peirce, James saw beliefs as “rules for action” (27) and our reactions, particularly the sensate ones, as the consequences of the beliefs. It is probably good for James that he gave up his idealism, for Clark notes that any system of the Absolute, on James’ pragmatism, is only an effect of my actions. “God is merely the things I do” (28). And if realities can be changed like this, “theories thus became instruments, not answers to enigmas” (James, quoted in Clark 28).

If theism suffers from such a view, so does, surprisingly, science.  Scientific laws are now “approximations.” This is not entirely wrong, but James’ inference from it is: objective truth is nowhere to be found (29).  The law of non-contradiction is now an instrument of reality.  (One could  ask, I suppose, whether it was a true or accurate instrument).

Traditional thought had connected the laws of logic with being.  It should not be a surprise to see James, having now relativised logic, attack the idea of substance. Clark here surveys the history of “substance language.”

James defines the soul as “the verifiable cohesions of our inner life” (31).  The following quote, situated in the context of rationalism, is why Gordon Clark was one of the best *writing* philosophers: “Rationalism had supposed that the laws of science were the eternal thoughts of the Almighty, who thundered in syllogisms and reverberated in conic sections.”

Concerning the opposition between spirit and matter, James says, shockingly, they are the same thing. It is not clear why they are so, but one could guess that such a dichotomy means little for the pragmatist when it is time to make future plans. Clark proceeds to attack James on the point whether the pragmatist can truly explain the past. On Clark’s reading, James had reduced “God, soul, and matter to ‘substances,’” “a mere name for collections of qualities and events” (32). If both God and matter are names for past events, then any name could work just as well. More damning still, none of this actually explains the past.  On James’ construction they are the past!

To conclude this part of the analysis, “Sometimes James attaches and intellectualistic content to the concept God and desires it tested in experience; but at other times he argues that every concept is precisely its future effects in human behavior” (33).

Truth

James has problems with the “copy of reality” model of truth (presumably, the correspondence theory). Let us for the moment grant James’ criticisms of this model. He has a more immediate problem with “intellectualist” models of truth: they cannot have practical consequences.  Clark counters with the traditional understanding of God as a spirit infinite, eternal, and unchanging…etc. “Now if such a spirit actually exists; that is, if this idea refers to a true reality, hundreds of practical conclusions follow” (36).

For James, however, ideas are not true, “they are made true by events.” But does this not apply to James’ own proposal?  Must it not be made true by an event, thereby starting out as false? It seems it must.

Here I must offer an interlude: James could have avoided most of the problems in his theory by changing “made” to “discovered.” It is true (!) that many situations in life do not readily lend themselves to a correspondence model.  More often than not, truth is discovered as it is integrated into a larger pattern, as Michael Polanyi would so forcefully argue a half century later.  James, unfortunately, does not take this path.

Conclusion

There is much to James’ credit. He writes better than most philosophers, and in many respects, he is the American philosopher.  Most Americans would not agree that “truth is what works,” but they would probably agree with its converse: if something regularly fails, then there is something wrong with it.  Unfortunately, James’ relativising of logic, among other problems, dooms his system from the start, at least on Clark’s reading.

Christianity and Liberalism: Doctrine

Doctrine

Liberalism does not reject doctrine.  It has its own doctrines to which it wants you to subscribe. Machen identifies them as:

  1. The Fatherhood of God
  2. The universal brotherhood of man
  3. All creeds are equally true.

But point (3) cannot be true, since some creeds, especially those that appeal to history, make claims that can either be proven true or false. Moreover, Paul’s epistles claim a fundamental unity with the early history of Jesus’s companions (26). Either Christianity’s origin deals with facts or it does not, for “The narration of the facts is history; the narration of the meaning of the facts is doctrine” (29).

Even if we get rid of “doctrines” and “propositions,” and say Christianity is merely “life,” the problem does not go away.  If I say something is “life,” I place it in the realm of history and fact.

Main idea: “It must be admitted, then, that if we are going to have a non-doctrinal religion, or a doctrinal religion founded merely on general truth, we must give up  not only Paul, not only the primitive early church, but also Jesus himself” (45).

To state the issue another way, if all you want is “general truth” or “universal ethics,” you do not need history or Jesus for that.  If the basis of religion is to be kind to one another, why did Jesus have to die as a political rival?

“Liberalism is altogether in the imperative mood, while Christianity begins with a triumphant indicative; liberalism first announces appeals to man’s will, while Christianity announces, first, a gracious act of God” (47).

In other words, progressive Christianity is law without gospel.

By attacking the “propositional Christianity” of Paul and seeking refuge in the timeless truths of Jesus, the liberal has not escaped all the dangers.  He thinks this message is “life,” not doctrine.  If it is life, then it takes place in history, from which it can either be verified or falsified.  

Notes on Christianity and Liberalism (1)

Page numbers from the 2002 reprint.

With some books you really do not need to review or analyze them. Sometimes the best thing to do is get out of the way and let the words literally speak for themselves.

“That type of religion which rejoices in the pious sound of traditional phrases, regardless of their meanings, or shrinks from ‘controversial’ matters, will never stand amid the shocks of life” (1).

Machen identifies the root problem of Protestant Liberalism as “naturalism” or “modernism.” In other words, the universe is like a closed box. The supernatural cannot get in (if it even exists). Liberals applied this naturalism to the origin of Christianity (2).

It will not do to make two separate realms of knowledge, one for faith and the other for scientific inquiry. When Machen uses the word “science,” unless otherwise noted, he means it as a field of objective, testable knowledge. Accordingly, one cannot separate the world into matters of faith and matters of science, “For, rightly or wrongly, religion during the centuries has as a matter of fact connected itself with a host of convictions, especially in the sphere of history, which may form the subject of scientific investigation” (2).

Machen repeats his theme: “our principal concern just now is to show that the liberal attempt at reconciling Christianity with modern science has really relinquished everything distinctive of Christianity” (7).

At this point in the chapter Machen shifts gears to matters of political liberty. It is not immediately clear why he does so. Everything he says is true, and it is the case over the last century that religious liberalism always gave rise to totalitarianism. I am not 100% sure why that is the case, but the facts have borne it out.

“The tendency is most clearly seen in socialism; a socialistic state would mean the reduction to a minimum of the sphere of individual choice. Labor and recreation, under a socialistic government, would both be prescribed, and individual liberty would be gone” (10).

Even relatively free democratic institutions are not immune from this charge:

“When once the majority has determined that a certain regime is beneficial, that regime without further hesitation is forced ruthlessly upon the individual man. It never seems to occur to modern legislatures that although “welfare” is good, forced welfare may be bad.”

Machen even sees the rise of the cult of experts, though he could not have imagined how total it was during the Covid lockdowns.

Van Til and the Foundation of Christian Ethics (Hatch)

Hatch, Scott J. Van Til and the Foundation of Christian Ethics: A God-Centered Approach to Moral Philosophy. Libertyville, IL: Reformed Forum, 2023.

In the investment world, there is a danger in over investing in stocks that appear good but do not deliver all that is hoped.  The same is true in theology.  There are good (intellectual) investments in Van Til’s theology.  Unfortunately, his students over invested in his epistemology and apologetic method while leaving his ethics largely untouched.  This is a shame, as his ethics promise a number of key insights to the Christian life.

Scott Hatch of Reformed Forum has given probably the best (and maybe the first; I am not sure) systematic treatment of Van Til’s ethics.  I do not think there is anything like it in print. He surveys the failure of modern ethics, the nature of the summum bonum, Van Til’s theonomic and Klinean followers, and the structure of the will in Christian discipleship.  He has several appendices that include the full text of Van Til’s 1930 syllabus.

The Enlightenment Project had to fail because it lacked a foundation for justification. It degenerated into emotivism. Kierkegaard could not give a reason for actions other than “because.” Hume realized morality was just desires.

By contrast, summing up the problem, Hatch notes: “To call something good is to make an evaluative judgment, but an evaluative judgment implies a kind of standard or criterion by which an evaluation can be made” (Hatch 17).

Van Til and Vos

Hatch comes closer than any other recent author in showing the connection that Geerhardus Vos had on Van Til.  We know Van Til said Vos was his favorite teacher, but seeing “Vosian” elements in Van Til’s work is a tougher challenge.  I maintain it is difficult because we look for Vosian elements in the wrong place.  You will not find them, not in any great detail, in his apologetics works.  You will, however, find them in his ethics (28). The biblical-theological method allowed Van Til to see a unity between Old Testament and New Testament ethics.

In Search of An Ethical Absolute

Van Til took a “worldview approach” to Christian ethics, specifically Reformed Christian ethics. By “worldview” neither Hatch nor Van Til mean giving the stock Christian answers to pre-selected questions.  Rather, “worldview” means “Reformed worldview,” a view of life derivative of the revelation of the self-contained God. A specifically Reformed ethic will contain “the absolute self-sufficient personal God; the self-revelation of God in nature and history; the reality of sin; and the revelation of God objectively in Christ and Scripture and subjectively through regeneration and sanctification” (31).

Metaphysics and Biblicism

This might not have been Hatch’s point, but Van Til eschews any type of biblicism that rejects the need for metaphysics.  Hatch notes that Van Til saw “how modernist and liberal thought veers toward moralism but lacks any real metaphysical or epistemological foundation” (33). Indeed, in Defense of the Faith (2008) he says “metaphysics is logically foundational for both epistemology and ethics” (quoted in Hatch 46).

Idealism and Pragmatism

Van Til’s comments on idealism are somewhat dated.  You will find few idealists today. Pragmatism, on the other hand, will always be relevant.  Fortunately, apart from any Christian ethic it is easily dispensed with: “if the absolute is constantly evolving, then there is no fixed reference point for moral values’ ‘ (53).

Personality and the Will

In 2010, Richard Muller critiqued Jonathan Edwards’ view of the will as departing from the historic Reformed teaching, causing a firestorm among some of Edwards’ followers. I tend to think Muller was right, but neither side was altogether convincing.  In other words, pace Edwards I actually believe I make free decisions.  Pace Muller, when I act I seem to act in a unity as a whole person.  Faculty psychology might be true (I think it is), but few people are conscious of it when they act.

It is a shame that neither side in the debate used Van Til’s insights.  Following Augustine, he notes “man is free, but he does not have the freedom of contrary choice, and is nonetheless responsible for his actions” (99). Modern advertising seems to confirm Van Til’s point: “the expanding industry of advertising and communications has highlighted psychologically just how subtly and subconsciously people can be influenced” (102). In other words, a judicious ethics has a whole approach to the whole man.

Toward a Reformed Christian Ethic

As man gets progressively sanctified, he gets progressively “freer” (104).  How is this possible?  Van Til gives an eloquent format from his syllabus: man must become “increasingly spontaneous in willing the will of God,” “increasingly fixed in strengthening the backbone of this will,” and “increasingly [growing] in momentum to meet this increasing responsibility” (CVT, CTE 44-46). This is made possible by its working out in the larger narrative of post-redemptive history. In other words, he must strive for the true summum bonum, the highest good. The summum bonum is the kingdom of God.

Kline, Bahnsen, and Frame

Both Meredith Kline and Greg Bahnsen saw Van Til as formative for their theology, yet Kline and Bahnsen came to radically different conclusions about ethics.  Who, then, was the most faithful student of Van Til?  There is a better way to rephrase this question and answer it: Van Til was a faithful student of Geerhardus Vos when it comes to the nature of the ethical life.

Greg Bahnsen’s theonomy is widely-known, so we will only touch on the highlights for this discussion.  Theonomy proper depends on two points: 1) a unique exegesis of Matthew 5:17ff and 2) the claim that the Old Testament penal codes are binding today unless otherwise rescinded.  It should be obvious by now that Van Til taught no such thing in his ethics.  Neither can it be inferred he taught this in his ethics. I think Bahnsen suspected this (and I think Gary North knew it).  Bahnsen mentions Van Til’s ethics only once in his 500 page work on theonomy, and there it is only Van Til’s claim that there is either theonomy or autonomy, but it is clear that Van Til meant it in a general sense.  Therefore, we can safely conclude, and Hatch does, that Bahnsen’s ethics is not faithful to Van Til’s.

Does that mean Kline is the true Van Tillian on ethics?  It is not so clear there, either. Kline maintained, or at least he pointed out, a “seeming inconsistency between the Decalogue and certain divine commands,” which he called “intrusion” (137). On one level, this seems like common sense.  The conquest of Canaan is an intrusion of the End Times Judgment into history, yet this intrusion is not normative.  What is not clear, though, is what counts as intrusion and what counts as application. The more we see typological anticipations in the Old Testament, the less useful is the Old Testament for ethics. I think Kline is probably closer to Van Til in terms of biblical narrative than Bahnsen is, but I do not believe he would have accepted Kline’s intrusion ethics.

Criticisms

As with many books about or by Van Til, “reason” is always “autonomous reason” if used by the other guy (21-22). Moreover, Hatch refers to Oliphint’s book on Thomas Aquinas, noting, however, that Oliphint’s analysis has met with severe criticism (22 n24).  He does not think the criticisms damage the main point.  I suspect they do.

Speaking of Thomas Aquinas, Hatch only mentions Aquinas’s actual writings once, and in a footnote, and even then it is a reference to James Dolezal’s God Without Parts, quoting Summa Contra Gentiles. This is a recurring theme with Van Tillian literature.  We need to see more interaction with actual passages from Thomas Aquinas. We are often told “Thomas’s view reduces to x” or “His Aristotelianism is clear here,” but we never see how that is the case.

I suppose some thinkers, notably Kant and Hume, were guilty of “autonomous reason,” but I have read enough works by presuppositionalists to suspect that the adjective “autonomous” is doing the heavy lifting normally required by sustained analysis of primary sources.  That analysis we do not always see.

Conclusion

These criticisms should be noted, but they do not take away the value of the book.  The book is literally in a class by itself.  Van Tillians, and even presuppositionalists from other schools, should pay more attention to Van Til’s writings on ethics. They generally do not have the difficulties found in some of his other works, save on one possible point: Van Til’s syllabus, in a way not dissimilar to Oliver O’Donovan’s works, does not always deal with practical problems in ethics.  That is not a problem.  Van Til, as the title of this work suggests, deals with “the foundation of Christian ethics.”

‘This review copy was provided by the publisher in exchange for a fair and honest review.’

The Presbyterian Philosopher: The Authorized Biography of Gordon Clark

Douma, Douglas.  The Presbyterian Philosopher. Eugene, OR: Wipf & Stock. Hoopla edition.

A few disclaimers: I write as a friendly outside to the Clarkian school. Neither am I a Van Tillian. As I agree with some of Clark’s positions, especially on the wording of The Complaint, that does not necessarily mean I endorse all of his conclusions regarding the Well-Meant Offer, supralapsarianism, and the like. Those matters deserve their own post. With that said, this was an extremely profitable book.

It is tempting to think that Gordon Clark never had the influence that Cornelius Van Til had, but that might be a mistake.  Clark did influence several key evangelicals, notably Carl F Henry and the earlier Christianity Today. Clark’s influence, though, was never denominational, which is probably why the authorized biography did not appear earlier.

Douglas Douma, utilizing numerous unpublished manuscripts and letters, gives us a unique glimpse into Gordon Clark’s life.  The book was a joy to read and literary qualities aside, it will prove quite valuable in the history of 20th century evangelicalism.

Clark’s Intellectual Influences

He “aggressively studied Plotinus in the original Greek.”  He argues that God’s simplicity is not a simplicity in the Plotinian sense, but Clark believes that the attributes are identical. Douma hints how this might be a problem with Clark’s epistemology.  Man has to know at least some of the same propositions as God knows. But it might not be that problematic: whatever tensions Clark’s position might have, it does not seem to follow that knowing the same content in a proposition man must then have the same mind, and hence essence, of God.

Clark thought, probably with some justification, that his view was Augustine’s: the basic items in God’s mind were not ideas, but propositions.  I think that might be too restrictive, though.  I know God knows me in his mind, yet it seems intuitive that God can know me without having to use the proposition “I know Jacob.”

Wheaton

Clark’s “worldview thinking” became apparent at Wheaton.  He drew heavily upon James Orr’s account of worldview, seeing items as systematically coherent. Christianity must be defended as a whole system. God’s existence is the ultimate basis for all other knowledge.

This entailed for Clark, among other things, a rejection of empiricism. Clark defined empiricism as “the theory of epistemology that bases all knowledge on experience or sensation alone.”  Such a view also entails that the mind is blank, “sensations are basic,” they are stored in the mind, from which we abstract ideas or concepts.

There are several problems with empiricism. A blank mind cannot process sensations. Senses can deceive. One must point out, however, that we still use sense data.  Indeed, we use sense data even on the intuitive level (such as looking both ways crossing the street before one even thinks about looking both ways).

Worldview Thinking

Presuppositionalism as a term was first coined in 1948 by Buswell.  For Clark, theory must precede fact. Indeed, “the alleged events, instead of constituting Christian theism, stand themselves in need of philosophic interpretation” (Clark, quoted in Douma).

All systems have unproven and unprovable axioms, or starting points. In some places, Clark seems to identify these axioms with first principles.  If so, then he is closer to traditional epistemology in this regard than he might suspect. Such an axiom must be shown to be self-consistent, having no contradictions.

The Ordination Controversy

Clark had considered ordination in the Reformed Episcopal Church.

It cannot be the case that the OPC had always rejected Clark’s view of incomprehensibility.  Henry Coray had written to Van Til that Clark’s student, Francis Mahaffy, passed presbytery without any objections (Henry W. Coray to CVT, 15 April 1944, WTS Archives, quoted in Douma).

The problem restated: “Clark, an Old School Presbyterian, was a strict subscriptionist to the Westminster Standards, but The Complaint asked him to subscribe to Van Til’s particular views” (Douma).

“The issue between the two parties, rather, was over how man’s knowledge relates to God’s knowledge.”

“The point of contact was, for Clark, the proposition known.”

“Clark held to a qualitative distinction in the mode or  manner of knowing.  He believed God’s knowledge is intuitive…whereas man’s knowledge is discursive.”  So far, Clark is orthodox. Indeed, the Complaint’s earlier wording spelled disaster, asserting that there was no point of contact between man’s knowledge and God’s knowledge.  This means man knows nothing, since God knows everything and there is no point of contact.  The Complainants ultimately backed off that extreme claim.

The problem with saying the Bible is all paradox or all apparently contradictory: “He who says a given paradox cannot be solved, logically implies that he has examined every verse in Scripture, that he has exhausted every implication of every verse, and that there is in all this no hint of a solution.”

Is the content of man’s knowledge and God’s knowledge as it relates to a specific truth the same?  Clark explains: “Obviously the contents of one’s knowledge are the truths one knows…The contents of a man’s knowledge are the truths the man knows.  The Complaint maintains that these two sets of truths are qualitatively different.”

Douma does not bring this out, but Thomists were already aware of this.  That is why we say that the content of a particular proposition is univocal between man and God, but analogical in terms of judgment.

Douma notes that “content” was changed to mean “character of understanding” in the 1948 majority report. If it now means “mode of knowing,” then the original Complaint does not make sense.  As Clark notes in a letter to D. Clair Davis, “If mode answers how we know, and object answers what we know, what question is answered by the idea of content? They have (to this day, as far as I know) refused to define content so as to distinguish it from mode and object” (14 October 1952, quoted in Douma).

Clark’s Contributions

In light of recent developments by Russell and others on logic, Clark adamantly defended traditional Aristotelian logic.  Here is the problem.  Take your standard “A Proposition,” All S is P. The subaltern(I Proposition) is Some S is P. If all men are mortal, it naturally follows that some men are mortal.  Beginning with Gottlobe Frege, logicians saw a problem. Subalternation seemed to imply that some entities exist which clearly do not.  Douma gives the following example:

“All lions in the room next door have sharp teeth” does not mean “some lions in the room next door have sharp teeth,” because there might not be any lions next door.

Russell framed it this way: all A is b means a<b, all A is included  in b.

For Clark, Russell gave an erroneous definition of “all.” It is one thing to claim A is included in B. It is quite another to say A is B.  For example, 0>1 now reads “All 0 is 1,” yet this is clearly absurd.

Clark makes some important points here, but I am not sure it is enough to overturn the gains in modern logic.

Addendum: Was Clark a Nestorian?

Charity demands we say no. Clark honestly worked through the implications of his system and knew he was at an impasse, which is probably why he did not publish his book on the incarnation.  The problem stems from his definition of person as a “composite of truths.” As Jesus had both divine and human minds, he had divine and human composites of truths.  This seems to lead to the conclusion that he was two persons.

Clark responded that Nestorius did not define person in this way, and that is true.  It is still a problem and I am not sure how he can get out of it. There are a few potential options: we could say that the divine composite of truths “enhypostasized” or hominized the human composite of truths.  That could work, although we are stretching language at that point.

Conclusion

This book was a delight to read and presents Clark’s case to a wider audience.  Douma helpfully summarized Clark’s own views, even showing how Clark’s teachings can reach mainstream evangelicalism.  There are a few areas in which I must differ with Clark, though. I think he overshoots his target on sensation, though his criticisms on empiricism are probably sound.  Notwithstanding that, I found Douma’s case for Clark’s position in the ordination controversy very convincing. In fact, if one keeps in mind the old distinction in Thomism (noting the irony here) between univocal in content, analogical in judgment, Clark’s position is actually common sense.