Fearful of the
near pariah status of history of philosophy in the hard-core precincts of
analytical philosophy today, I hastened in my first salvo to project an almost
futuristic version of it that allows me now to relax a bit in the longuedurée
of the past in which history of philosophy has been widely felt to be most at
home. Going then to the opposite
extreme, it will be not some putative end of philosophy but rather its presumed
beginning of it, in Thales, to which I now turn, meekly following Aristotle in
the first Book of his Metaphysics.
So here at least history of philosophy figures, superbly, as all of
apiece with systematic philosophy as such?
Maybe not, though it can certainly
seem so on a casual reading of his text.
However attractive, in its own right, as a history of philosophy replay
of Aristotle’s discussion of his “four causes” – material, formal, efficient
and final – earlier in his Physics, he is quite explicit as to the
immediate rationale for undertaking this replay, “for we shall either find
another kind of cause, or be more convinced of the correctness of those which
we now maintain” (983B 5). Only more
convinced, thereby allowing even in this case for there being a fifth cause
that continues to elude him? Although
resolving this issue could not fail to supply a missing chapter in the history
of philosophy that lies at any rate beyond those few readily at hand for me
now, I am in rather a position to supply a friendly amendment to Aristotle in
his effort to explain why Thales settled on water as being “that of which all
things consist, the first from which they come to be, the last into which they
are resolved (the substance remaining but changing its modifications)”, 183B
8-9.
Invoking a possible worlds approach
to a pre-Socratic hermeneutics that aims only to secure a more or less close
approximation to what the historical Thales had in mind, conceding of course
that the closest possible world is always the actual world, I cannot but notice
how the most immediately relevant “modifications” of water – liquid, solid and
vapor – fail to feature in Aristotle’s account.
If one’s first thought, still more Aristotle’s first thought, might be
that liquidity, far from being on a par with the “other” modification of water,
smacks rather of being an essential property of it, “smacks” is the word that
alerts us to a puzzle with which I propose to view Thales as having profoundly
struggled but in vain. Well, not in
vain, seeing that a still missing chapter in the history of how philosophy and
science fatefully come to go their separate ways, I take to lie encoded in that
heroic struggle.
Even allowing Thales to be in a
position to distinguish water l from water s and water v, one hesitates to find
him content with Aristotle’s “substance (ousia) remaining but changing
its modifications”, quite as if this ousia were a Lockean “I know not
what”, though once one allows ice and steam or vapor to supply such diverse
Fregean modes of presentation for water, the further inductive leap to the rest
of nature need not fall afoul of familiar hypothetico-deductive canons.
Distinguish now the historical
Thales, whoever he might be, from my own Thales one and Thales two who figure
as Lewisian counterparts in very close possible worlds an implicit struggle
between which turns on how Thales two continues to insist that, as an
especially perspicuous mode of presentation of water simpliciter, water
l must finally be found to trump both water s and water v.
Mere anachronistic mention of Frege
and Lewis should be enough to verify how my own take on Thales is as futuristic
as Aristotle’s, only much more so, at this still greater remove from him. Add the name of Quine, and a still deeper
theme emerges, in connection with ontological commitment. Taking Thales to be ontologically committed
only to . . . water, “(
x) x is water” strikes one as a highly jejune formulation of his
position in Quine’s canonical notation of first-order predicate logic if only
because “(
x) x = water & (
y) y = x” is no less acceptable, albeit appealing now to an enhanced
first-order predicate logic with identity in which Quine is still more at home.
If this distinction between predicate
logic with and without identity will doubtless be felt to be surely at least
one technical nuance too many, at any rate by those of my fans who are rooting
above all for a reactivated history of philosophy, it is precisely Quine and
his commitment to philosophy “from a logical point of view” on whom I am
principally relying in undertaking that very reactivation. A two-way street, however, in my juxtaposing,
incongruously, Thales and Quine, I venture to shed almost as much light on the
latter as I do on the former, starting with his focusing “on what there is”
from a logical point of view. A putative
counter-example to Quine’s purportedly neutral – as regards competing
ontologies – first-order scheme that implicitly provides only for count nouns,
the early philosophers plumped for mass nouns, water for Thales, air for
Anaximander and fire for Heraclitus.
As to whether Quine would allow for
a purely aqueous ontology or proto-ontology according to which “all there is is
water and only water”, I believe he would refer us to his doctrine of
“indeterminacy of radical translation”, insisting only that a Whigish approach that takes Thales’ mass noun quasi-ontology to be
applauded as baby steps on the way to a proper count noun ontology would register
for him as among his less favored translations.
As to whether Williamson would stick
in this context to his epistemic theory of vagueness I am much less confident.
Finally, pressing into further
service Davidson’s doctrine of “charity” as a talisman for dispelling Quinean
indeterminacy, no less than five major figures in analytical philosophy have
been called upon to discharge this “missing chapter” on poor old Thales. How absurd now, my worries about an impending
end of philosophy, when these five almost equally riveting figures pass before
us in review!
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