Suzuki on Logic

Currently reading:
Apologia Pro Vita Sua
   by John Henry Newman
Zen and Japanese Culture
   by D. T. Suzuki

I've been reading through Suzuki, and he's been making some points about logic which both intrigue and infuriate me. I'll try to cover why he is (at times) so anti-logic, the points at which I have my sympathies, and the points at which I think he is way off.

The first reason why Suzuki is against intellectualizing the world is nothing terribly particular to Zen. He claims that in conceptualizing things, we can lose track of the things themselves; what we really need is direct acquaintance with reality. I call this the practical anti-logic thesis: avoid logic if it is causing you to get caught up in the words instead of the reality. Ok, fine; but I find that to be pretty obvious advice. That's not to say that I don't get caught up in concept fixation at times, but I already recognize that as less than ideal. Any church I walk into will stress the need for a personal involvement instead of just a "head knowledge" of the faith.

So, there has to be more to Suzuki's position than this, though the above plays a pretty significant role (I may do a post sometime on his view of subjectivity). And this is were what I call the ontological anti-logic thesis steps in: the world just is not conducive to logical analysis. Note that, as I have been saying in previous posts, this does not entail that the law of non-contradiction is false. Suzuki doesn't care enough about abstracta to deal with that question. All that has to hold is that any application of logic distorts the world. The world is a totality, but not in a pantheistic way; full of particulars which each possess their source equally. I'm not quite sure what he's talking about either, but I don't see anything prima facie wrong with stating that reality is neither one nor many. Sure, such a reality would not fit into any nice categories of ours, but why should I assume that it would?

In connection with this, there seems to be two main places where logic breaks down throughout different philosophical schools, and upon which I think Suzuki and the Buddhist tradition draw. One is when dealing with human conceptual constructions. Of course, if we create the conceptual scheme, then there is no guarantee that it will prove consistent. Further, the scheme may end up being practical even if it fails logical tests; it may even be conducive to learning the truth about the way the world is (I should hope so; I doubt that my thoughts ever will be fully coherent, but I would like to think that I'll achieve something in my searches). So it may even make sense to hold to a contradiction, because although it is imperfect, it could be better than any other option we see. This is even more true if reality simply isn't conducive to logical analysis, in which case we need something (however imperfect) by which to communicate to others with our feeble attempts. The second area where logic seems to break down is with the will; but that is a different series.

So, given all of this, where do I have problems with Suzuki? With his emphasis on creative freedom instead of order. If conceptual schemata are all under a curse, it seems that there should be a place for form as well as formlessness (as in Mahayana Buddhism, form is formlessness, and vice versa). Zen monasteries are some of the most rigid out there. And my particular beef with Suzuki is the prioritizing of the creative artist's approach to an intuitive grasp of reality, while denigrating the analytic approach. As a former mathematician and a wannabe mediaevalist, I firmly disagree. Much of my life is about reaching and expressing my intuitive insights through logic. At times I fall apart into an illogical muddle, but this is hardly when I am at my best and when I have the clearest intuitions about reality. Rather, it is in the midst of Galois theory when I have a mystical vision of the beguiling, entrancing wholeness of all form, or in the subtleties of the Doctor Subtilis that I have my most encompassing vision of the reality of God as the ultimate final, efficient, and exemplar cause of all, the source of all harmony and diversity within unity. To posit such a sharp distinction between logical analysis and intuitive feeling is opposed to Suzuki's very project of removing dualities.

Scotus Congress

Currently reading:
Itinerarium Mentis in Deum
   by St. Bonaventure

I am now back from the Scotus Congress which was at St. Bonaventure's. It was a bit of a change in pace. At Trinity, I'm pretty much the resident scholastic. At the congress, though, I felt like an infant in the world of medieval studies. It was cool though to meet some other people with similar interests and to get some tips on how to proceed. The papers which I heard seemed to fall into three camps: the ones which were great, though I couldn't quite catch everything; the ones which were decent, but mostly rehash of stuff I know; and the ones which were pretty much a waste of time (either they weren't very good, or I couldn't follow them at all, or both).

I've regained some motivation, but the usual question of breadth vs. depth still plagues me. I want to learn everything, but I want to learn it all well. To really do medieval philosophy would require steeping in it for a good amount of time, it seems. So to do comparative work with, say, Madhyamaka and Yogacara Buddhism would be fascinating, but I couldn't really get all of the good stuff out of either then.

Also, if I were to go along a more purely medievalist route, would I want to do more with philosophy and theology, in which case I would continue with some training in modern philosophy in which case I could work with the thinkers as relevant to today, or would I continue in a more historical vein, understanding the context better and perhaps unearthing some less-studied (but nonetheless astute) thinker? Practical calculations also seem to play a role. I think I would prefer going with a straight-up medieval studies degree more (at least during the studies, I don't know about the subsequent career path), as I could dabble in other areas more easily (bored with philosophy? let's look at the historical context. Bored with history? What literature could be influenced by these thinkers?). However, it would be a fair bit easier to get a philosophy job (not that that would be a guarantee itself). In addition, there is the issue of where I could benefit the community the best. With my talents & interests and the current historical circumstances of American intellectual culture, would I better serve the community by bringing the thought of these guys into contemporary discussion (building conceptual bridges), or by working on critical editions, translations, and the like (building practical bridges)?

Principles of Sufficient Reason and Parsimony

I'm about to head off to the Scotus Congress in a few hours, so I thought that I'd jot down this thought before I go and absorb the subtle doctor for 4 days. It's probably something that has been noted before, but it has struck me as new, so you can smile and nod and play along for a couple minutes. There are two principles in philosophy which play a significant, though controversial, role. One is the principle of sufficient reason (PSR), which more or less states that there's got to be a reason for everything. On the other hand, there is the principle of parsimony (PoP) (also called "Ockham's Razor," "Scotus' Rule," and most likely other things) which says that we shouldn't postulate more entities than we need. Which therefore makes it the contrapositive of the former (and thus logically equivalent). Observe (where "E(x)" is "x exists" and "R(y)" is "there is a reason that y", ~ is not, and -> is implication):
PSR: E(x) -> R(E(x))
PoP: ~R(E(x)) -> ~E(x)
Granted, PoP is sometimes epistemological (don't postulate more entities than you have found a need for), but this seems to piggyback on the metaphysical claim (why should we choose the simpler explanation unless this gets closer to the reality of things?) So, on that note, if we expect the world to be strongly rational, then it also needs to be as simple as possible.

Now, maybe we think that PSR is too strong; maybe we want WPSR, the weak principle of sufficient reason, which can be stated as "if it is possible that there is a reason for x, then there is a reason for x." What would we get for an equivalent WPoP (where P is possible and N is necessary)?
WPSR: P(R(x)) -> R(x)
WPoP: ~R(x) -> ~P(R(x)); ~R(x) -> N(~R(x))
So, whatever cannot be explained, necessarily cannot be explained. I'm not sure that this is terribly profound; it seems like what it means for something to be explainable. But if WPoP is trivial, that means that WPSR is true.

The above seems to make R somewhat similar to the necessity operator (and WPSR smacks of a cross between an ontological and a cosmological argument), which I find intriguing, although I do note that ~R(x) isn't interchangeable for P(~x) (in fact, God is the main possibly-unexplainable entity, and I certainly don't want to say that God can't exist). So what are the relations between explainability (as an ontological feature, where things really do have some such relation between them) and necessity?

And now I'll let the reader make something coherent and profound out of the above, and attribute it to me (let me know about it). Ah, the rewards of obfuscation and pedanticness.

Chaos and Analysis

Currently reading:
Prose Edda of Snorri Sturlson
   trans. by Jean I. Young

I've been thinking about chaos theory recently, and I was wondering how it fits with my recent statements on logic. Paleolithnick had also suggested the relevance to my thoughts a while back on free will, a topic which I may well cover when I return to the "Defense of LFW" series (it will come back eventually, really, I need to get the paper in readable form by October 5th. And I'll return to the statements about causation and whether it affects logical analysis at some point as well; maybe in a year or two).

I'm going to make some rough-hewn suggestions which may send my inner mathematician into seizures, but he can work them out more later if it bothers him that badly. I'm going to be pulling at too characteristics of chaotic systems. The first has to do with the lack of predictability. This is due to two things: first, sensitivity to initial conditions. This means that no matter how close you get to the starting point of the system, if you're not exact, you'll get arbitrarily far away as time goes on. This in itself isn't the only issue; a simple exponential or even quadratic function does the same thing. However, one can at least get a feel for the function and try again in those cases, and determine how far off one started by how the ending looks. A chaotic system twists and turns on itself so much that one can get completely lost in it, without any idea of how on- or off-target one is. Further, while if you come at the system in some directions it remains stable, if you come at it in other directions it is unstable. An example of this could be the climate; some changes to it will be canceled out, others will balloon, and if pushed passed certain boundaries, it'll completely change. If you come at it from an unstable direction, things'll go haywire and you're prediction will be nothing like the real thing.

However, despite this inability at being able to predict the system at an analytical level, the system displays macro-level regularities. These are called "strange attractors." More or less, if you look at the graph of a chaotic system, you can see a pretty picture rather than a tangled ball of yarn. An example would again be found in weather patterns: we can't predict the weather with that much accuracy, and while we can improve we'll never be able to look too far in advance, but at the same time we have seasons. I don't know what the weather will be like tomorrow, but we are entering fall.

So, in sum, low-level analytical details, if they don't start at the right place, can (and most likely will) create an overall picture of the world that is wrong in all of what it has to so. Further, getting closer to the right answer doesn't necessarily mitigate this, and the starting point is also the most controversial point in a well-formed argument. However, even if we can't get at the details very well, by looking at the different trajectories of different theories, we can see broad patterns arising. These patterns then exist, even if they themselves are not analyzable. All of this assuming that we are in a chaotic system, whatever that might mean, or that our epistemological position is analogous in appropriate ways to chaotic systems.

Another Blog

In case anyone simply checks this instead of my Xanga as well, I'm starting up a new blog devoted to writing. I want to do more expression of myself, separate from philosophy and prosaic accounts of my life, but I feel rather unskilled. As such, I would greatly appreciate comments, including positive (I need at least a little ego boost every now and then), but especially critical (I'm mostly concerned with becoming skilled, and I haven't done much creative writing since high school). I'm using Xanga for the time being as it'll hopefully be easier to join a community than with Blogger; if this doesn't work, I'll switch it over to a Blogger account. So, without further ado, visit http://www.xanga.com/candlelitmuse, or simply add candlelitmuse to your Xanga subscriptions.

Stuff

The semester is in full swing now. I'm TAing again, though without grading papers; I just have to meet with groups in the Intro to Philosophy class who will be giving presentations, to make sure they know what they're talking about and have some sort of way of presenting it which can result in a decent grade. It's not a paid position, but it does yield credit toward graduation.

I also am about ready to turn in my thesis proposal. My more specific thesis topic now is a study of D.T. Suzuki's presentation of Zen, and more recent criticisms of it (especially insofar as they run against his claims to be an enlightened Zen practioner, and hence above dualistic thinking, in which he nonetheless indulges in the forms of nationalism and a reverse orientalism (e.g. The East is spiritual, intuitive, and what not, and the West is mechanistic and analytic and this is all bad).)

In other news, I feel like I've made a breakthrough in my own life. I've been feeling like I have to know the truth, that this is of vital importance, but that at the same time to know anything one must know everything. How many arguments which look watertight can be blown apart with a single observation? So this put me in the not-too-comfortable position of only being able to do a less bad job rather than to actually do a good one, but where not trying at all is worse.

But, going off of some stuff I posted 2 posts ago (on logic and mysticism), with some help from William James (thanks, Scott), I've been able to turn around my view of the world. It is now for me a place of wonder and exploration; if views can be more or less insightful as practical partitions of reality, but none of them is completely true*, then I don't have to worry about getting it all right, but there still is benefit to understanding.

The problem is, this probably puts me outside of conservative Christianity. Not that I would consider myself a liberal, mind you; I just think that the mental demands which many conservative strands of Christianity make are unrealistic when actually followed through to their conclusion (at very least for the average person, though maybe even moreso for the scholar). As I was writing about in the one poem below, it almost makes a virtue out of gambling with your future and the message which you pass on to others. Trying to hold to all of those beliefs without closing my eyes to the realities in the world was itself the root cause for me of turbulence, frustrations, and impatience with others; if the fruit has anything to do with the tree, that can't be what faith is about.

Poetry Break

Currently reading:
Phantastes
   by George MacDonald

I'll probably regret this in the morning (I think that I regret half the things written late at night), but I feel like posting some stuff I've been writing on the blog. So, here goes.

The raucous cacophony of shouts, screams
Rushing on, overlapping, ripping apart their prey
The onslaught surrounds the lone victim
Defending himself, he joins the crusade

What's your answer?  Choose your side
Flip your coin, roll the die
Lady virtue walks off with the man of fortune
As muddied pilgrims while away in the stocks.

Are you with us or for us?
For any value of "us"
Ignorance is bliss, peace, faith, hope and love
Those who seek shall find only hell

Close your eyes and count to 10
Take a deep breath, it'll all be over
Strength comes from falling limply off the fence
Those who toil in the midst of battle are wimps

Aristotle said it, so it must be so
You must either say yes or no
Don't bother knocking, just open some door
Don't ask, only seize

Like a flowing, rushing torrent
Breaking on the banks and rocks
Swirling, twisting, whirling chaos
Flecks of white flung high above
Precious river-life lost to earth
And then the sea
Vast, open, serene
And free

On Logic

I must say that I tend to waffle between logical and mystical modes, and I'm finding more comfort from the mystical right now. Of course, this requires some justification (at least, I have to justify it to myself), so here's my presentation of my thoughts on logic, and a relation between reason and experience.

In order for the rules of logic to apply, we must have a ontology of individuals; that is, things which are undivided in themselves (for the rule of identity to hold) and which are divided from everything else (for the rule of non-contradiction). Now, it is precisely this ontology which is denied in the strands of thought which claim to surpass logic. I would suggest that an ontology of individuals does not properly account for causation (things wouldn't really be divided from everything else) or for change (things wouldn't really be undivided in themselves).

Of course, theories which talk about things in terms of individuals seem to work, and logic just seems so necessary.* This would be because we can make practical distinctions, and within that practical world logic holds. I can say that the table in front of my exists. Now, if it were to really exist as an individual, then we would need to face the problem of providing boundaries for it (are the molecules from the air bouncing off of it right now and forming quickly-broken electrical bonds part of the table? Where is the point of separation between table and floor? Is that little piece hanging off the edge really part of the table? What about the sorites paradox, e.g. if we cut off molecules from the table, at what point does it stop being this table?). I personally think this problem is insurmountable, and even if the boundary problem is solvable, there is still Trenton Merrick's overdetermination argument (given in Objects and Persons). But practically for my present purposes, I can pick out a table and I can pick out a chair; given this, the table is not the chair, but is itself. The fact that the distinction is practical does not completely make it anti-real: the chair and table may not be individuals, but the very fact that I can make the practical distinction is due to the way reality is. Reality still is, and it is still ordered, just not in a way which lets us grab a hold of it for more than the present moment.**

So it is prima facie possible that the ontology of the real world is such that it cannot (ultimately) be parceled out into the individuals which logic requires. Another problem comes up in the inner realm: what to do when realm and experience/feeling/intuition collide? I would say that in my life, I've been finding that the answer comes in realizing both that this usually ends up being an indication that my reasoning is wrong, but also that my interpretation of the experience is wrong. The experience is like a pain I feel on my arm: the pain doesn't tell me what sort of wound I have, how I got it, whether I was justified in getting it, and so on. It does tell me, however, that I need to do something about it; rationally telling myself that pain doesn't exist is going to cause problems. Likewise, in philosophy and theology, one shouldn't simply follow one's feelings, because these feelings don't really say whether a doctrine is true or false; only the interpretations of the feelings do. However, if I feel uncomfortable with a doctrine, I ignore this discomfort at my peril. I see too much theology done from the standpoint of "it rationally works out, so it doesn't matter how we feel; let's just keep trucking." I'm not so confident of any of our reasoning abilities to completely ignore other signs that we may need to keep looking.

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* - Aristotle would be the best philosopher of individuals of whom I can think, and so he would deserve a post explaining how he fits into all of this. Perhaps another time._Back

** - Yes, I'm sure that there needs to be some way of working out self-reference there. I guess that will be in a sequel post as well._Back

Struggles and Skepticism

Currently reading:
On Christian Teaching
   by St. Augustine

Ok, so I'm going to put down some of my current intellectual struggles right now, and hopefully someone can help me with them. I've written a few times about my frustration with the church, and doctrines such as perspicuity of Scripture. Here's my overall problem (similar to the case with the perspicuity of Scripture post): It seems that Protestantism needs perspicuity of Scripture and sola Scriptura in order to stand up (basically, what I mean by that is that a person can pick up Scripture and get the important bits without this reading being mediated by a specific tradition). The problem is, while I can see ways in which these doctrines could work, I still can't see the basis for them. They seem to be thrown out there because we Protestants need them, but I don't accept pragmatic arguments like that for establishing truth. So, I need a basis, but I don't see one.

Without this basis, I have a hard time holding to Protestant views of justification and sanctification. Yes, many Protestant scholars make good cases for Protestant views. Many RC and EO scholars, though, have read the same passages and don't even find them troubling. This at least makes me suspicious of Protestant claims, especially when at seminary I keep reading bad expositions of them (not that all are bad; I remember that Seifrid's Christ, Our Righteousness was pretty good, and I enjoy reading N. T. Wright, but the latter doesn't toe the traditional evangelical on the pertinent issues and the former leaves frustratingly vague how we go about living in Christ). I'm not a Bible scholar, don't have time to look up all of the heated exegetical debates, and am deeply skeptical about being able to get anywhere in those debates if one actually listens to all sides (a feature commonly lacking in theological discussions of any kind, which further deepens my despair because a person who can't understand the view of another is probably simply reading her own view into Paul). Add to this that the more I read Paul, the easier I find it to read "faith," "grace," and "works" against certain dominant Protestant interpretations, and the problem only grows thicker.

Given that I'm still struggling to get good answers to the grounding of Protestantism, I'm leaning more and more toward converting to Eastern Orthodoxy. Other options seem to be liberalism/post-modernism, which can be non-institutional without that firm doctrinal foundation, and Roman Catholicism. The former is attractive, especially since I don't want to have to submit to anyone (I am far too arrogant), but then I'm left wondering if I'm doing much more than Hick is talking about in Interpretation of Religion. Catholicism would be attractive because I wouldn't hear the "m" word ("mystery") thrown about nearly as freely as in Protestantism or EO, and it doesn't have quite the same anti-intellectual bias at the popular level that conservative versions of the other churches tend to have. However, I do think that the Reformation had too many good points against the Catholic church to have been unjustified in their schism, and a church which justifies a schism against it has a huge mark against it.

This, of course, would be a huge step, but the frustations with Protestantism don't seem to be going away, and I'm having trouble getting the answers I need. Of course, now I have another issue. I'm becoming more and more convinced that I need to do something, even I don't know what that something is yet. But then, anything I do will upset other people who will be quite profoundly affected because they either a) simply want what is familiar and comfortable, and can't be bothered to reflect on the underlying issues, or b) come to snap judgments on everything and can ever see anything from another point of view. To what extent would I be selfish if I were to make such a change? To what extent do I have a duty to the truth, even if that hurts others close to me and involve my forcing my will upon them? Worse, it's not like I can ever have certainty about anything, so what do I do when I'm caught between shutting up that voice of conscience inside me for the sake of another (and thus ignoring what is most valuable), and possibly leading them astray by force due to what I consider to be right? And how the Niflheim is there supposed to be any peace in any of this?

If conservative protestantism is true, then how are holding on to faith and struggling to find the truth in order to believe it (so as to know what faith even is) not the hardest works which one could have to do? I hear the refrain of "just have faith" or its variations again and again, but I need to know what faith even is. What do I have faith in? How do I have faith? How can I have this faith before knowing what it is in order to have faith that I will have faith, and know that I will know whatever truth I need? How do I have any sort of peace while waiting for this faith? It's not like I can simply do nothing and wait for God, because there is no such thing as doing nothing. I also desperately need some purpose in life, I so badly need some sort of spiritual satisfaction and have needed it for so long, that I am convinced that something needs to be done; if that's not where God is leading me, then quite honestly I can't really trust his leading any more because he's doing nothing to help me move away from it. The old way simply isn't working, and I'm so very tired of rationalizing.

Intermission

Currently reading:
The Myth of the Eternal Return
   by Mircea Eliade

I'll most likely put up the rest of the argument sometime before too long (maybe in some sort of illo tempore). I need to track down citations, and that's always my least favorite part of papers. Who cares whether or not the person actually said that as long as I can make it sound creative, after all?

In the meantime, I just had some thoughts on studying which I thought I'd jot down. It seems like curiosity used to be enough to get me to read anything. Curiosity can be a vice when it pulls one away from what is really important. However, sometimes there is an innocence about curiosity as well, a self-forgetfulness as one simply and artlessly gives oneself over to understanding another (whether that be a person, culture, idea, et cetera; not that those are entirely separate). This innocence is lost as we go on to have to write paper after paper, and seek a job in what we once loved. "Pragmatism" sets in, we start having to cast a critical eye on everything we look at in order to determine its worth for research material, for building our career, for getting us into the right schools, for the eventual use it could be to society. This leads to getting wrapped up in our own concerns, and using the words of other people for our own ends. To some extent, this is a necessary stage an academic must go through; there needs to be a deeper reflection on ones studies. However, this stage too must be transcended where one again can come to a text and devote oneself to it for a time in a deeper, more concentrated way. This is a way which does not ignore the practical issues, but at the same time realizes the worth in listening to the words of others and the occasionally limited, fallible nature of various practical judgments.

Defense of LFW, Part II

Ok, so on with the next part of the argument. Before anything else, I would like to say that by "will" I do not mean something which is really distinct from the soul; it is formally distinct, in that it is of the soul and not even so much as a part, but that it admits of a different definition. I'll be sloppy in my speech because it takes too long to say "the faculty through which the soul wills." Also, as far as the term "soul" is concerned, as long as anyone is at least a property dualist (admits that there are such things as mental properties) I would think the following would be fine.

First, I claim that LFW isn't inconsistent. The argument against LFW seems to be mainly that the will must be either determined or random ("indeterministic" as it is usually put, though I shall reserve that word for other purposes); since LFW isn't determined, it must be random.* I hold that it is neither, that this is a false dichotomy. They may certainly describe acts of the will: we can tally up acts of the will already completed and say that in circumstances C, agent X has done Y and so have descriptive determinism, or we can say that agent X has n choices and will choose one out of those n and so have descriptive randomness (or maybe even other degrees of probability). This doesn't actually explain how the will works, however, and need not be damaging to the LFW enthusiast.

As for how the will works, it is either completely caused, or not completely caused. This is different from the usual dichotomy, which is that it is either completely caused or completely uncaused. I maintain that there is a space in between the two, and so that denial of both explanatory determinism and explanatory randomness is not incoherent. Further, I claim that the supporter of LFW is not thereby obligated to explain what this middle ground is, as she cannot explain it. This inability to explain how LFW works is supported on rational grounds and so is not mystery for mystery's sake.

It is clear from experience that there are things which cannot be understood completely rationally without any need to get mystical. A person cannot even understand what red is simply in terms of ratiocination. However, in that case we can explain that red is a color and has differing degrees of similarity to purple, orange, yellow, blue, and so on. When it comes to LFW, we do not have that luxury. We can say how it is different from everything else, but we can only supply to barest elements of similarity. Because natural (deterministic) things have a potency to a given action in a given situation, we can analogize with that and say that the will has a potency for opposite actions in a given circumstance.** Other than this, there is nothing similar in kind to the will. Its defining characteristic is a completely qualitative difference from that which is natural, and there really isn't anything which doesn't fall into one or the other camp (either it has a potency for opposites and is volitional, or it doesn't and it is natural). Therefore, we cannot explain the key feature of the will in terms of similar things.

Further, we cannot explain the properties of the will in terms of cause and effect. Going by the nature of the will, we can merely tell that it has a potency for opposites and not what it will actually choose, or how. Going by the effects of the will, we can only know what it has actually caused. Alternatively, we could analyze the cause of the will. Theistically, this is ultimately another will and so the contingent acting of the will is a brute fact of the world, as God's will cannot be further explained by another cause. The contingency in God's will is furthermore responsible for the contingency in our wills.

Of course, I haven't really proven that the will's workings cannot be rationally understood, but I consider the preceding to be good indications which place the ball in the anti-LFWers court. Next time, I hope to start building up something positive to say about how the will works. Given the above, there will always be a point in each illustration where we cannot intellectually understand how things work, but I think that other features in each situation are reasons for accepting LFW nonetheless.

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* - I know that there's more out there; I simply haven't researched it enough to talk about it here. Feel free to chime in if you have something to add.

** - Along these lines, Scotus reinterprets Aristotle's notion both of potency to opposites and the notion of a rational faculty which has such a potency, so if you are wondering why this doesn't jive with the Metaphysics, blame Scotus. In short, Scotus uses a synchronic and logical/metaphysical notion of possibility to undergird the potency for opposites, while most earlier philosophy uses a diachronic and statistical notion.

A Defense of Libertarian Free Will

Currently reading: A Zen Life: D. T. Suzuki Remembered by Masao Abe, ed.

So, I figured that I need to do more than simply reading this summer and start writing. Hopefully, I can get out a good enough paper to send off to grad schools after a few months of editing. At any rate, I'll start posting bits of what I'm working on here on the off chance that someone has sources to direct me to, or on the good chance that my logic is flawed.

What I'm working on first is a defense of libertarian free will (LFW), based largely on Scotus' thought. I've been thinking on and off about this for some time, so I'd like to try ironing it out. I will differentiate between the formal and material aspects of my proposal. On the one hand, under LFW the will must (at least sometimes, this can be highly qualified) be able to do otherwise than it does in order to be free. On the other hand, critics of LFW often point out that simply having more choices doesn't make one free. I'd like to incorporate both insights here: the principle of alternate possiblites (PAP) is necessary for freedom but not what actually constitutes said freedom.

The first step is to show why LFW cannot be explained rationally. This unexplainability further I believe can be rationally shown. This would make it simply a brute fact. I further will look at Scotus' notion of superabundance to further specify what sort of indeterminacy the will has, but again this cannot truly explain the matter.

To start trying to get an idea of what the will is, it is helpful to look at cases in which the will is used. This will form the content of free will, or at least suggest it. I will look at Scotus' ethics and the place of harmony in it, Scotus' differentiation between the affection for justice and the affection for the advantageous, and the way in which Scotus incorporates elements of virtue ethics. In all of these there will be places that simply cannot be fully rationally explained (otherwise, the point above would be contradicted), but which can point to places in experience where we can get an impression of how the will works.

In the end, I do not have a argument to prove LFW, merely a defense that it is not open to charges that are routinely brought against it. I do not think it unreasonable to expect that some things cannot be rationally analyzed, nor do I find it objectionable that a philosophical concept should be grounded in experience. Once these two principles are accepted (and I intend to provide some support for them), there is room for some understanding of LFW.