by Robert Wicks
5 There are four Paralogisms. Which aspect of the self does each discuss?
6 Why is it crucial for Kant’s arguments in the Paralogisms to recognize that all of one’s self-knowledge occurs in time? What is time in Kant’s view? What kind of knowledge does it provide?
7 Does Kant believe that we can prove the theory of reincarnation to be true?
8 What, according to Kant, is the main reason why people assert that the soul is a simple being?
9 In what sense does Kant maintain a ‘direct’ theory of perception?
10 What consolation does Kant offer at the end of the Paralogisms?
9
Metaphysical knowledge of the world and of God’s existence
Among Kant’s more thought-provoking and controversial claims in the Critique of Pure Reason is that when seeking answers to fundamental questions about the world, our reason embroils itself in contradictions. He describes how reason turns upon itself the Antinomies of Reason, which we will discuss in this chapter.
Kant is also well-known in the philosophy of religion for his claim that the traditional arguments for God’s existence – the ontological argument, the cosmological argument and the teleological argument – are all invalid. Central to Kant’s position is his refutation of the ontological argument, which we will examine, with its often-cited claim that ‘existence’ (or ‘being’, as Kant phrases it) is ‘not a real predicate.’
1 The Antinomy of Pure Reason – the nature of the world
One of Kant’s more fascinating claims is related to the ‘Antinomy of Pure Reason’. It is that when we apply our reason to solve certain fundamental questions about the world, reason inevitably comes into conflict with itself. One might expect otherwise that for any dispute, one can always expect stronger versus weaker arguments for one side or the other, where the stronger arguments render one of the sides definitively more plausible. For certain key philosophical questions, however, Kant does not find this to be the case. He instead likens the situation – one that has been continuing for centuries within the philosophical world in a warlike and fruitless manner – to a game wherein merely whoever makes the first move wins. The problem with these philosophical questions is that whoever goes first is arbitrary, with a perpetual and pointless series of battles as a result.
In the Antinomy of Pure Reason, Kant identifies four basic questions and four corresponding Antinomies over which philosophers have continually fought, showing that in the face of reason’s equal support of both sides, the questions have no definitive answers. They are:
1 Does the world have a beginning?
2 Is the world composed of simple elements?
3 Are we free?
4 Does God (i.e., an ‘absolutely necessary being’) exist?
Starting with the First Antinomy, let us suppose that the world has no beginning in time. If so, then at the present moment, an infinite amount of time will have passed, with the present moment serving to complete the series. However, an infinite series can never come to an end, so it makes no sense to assert that an infinite series has passed. The world must consequently have had a beginning in time. If so, then before the world began, there must have been an empty time with nothing in it and nothing happening. But nothing can happen in an empty time, so the world cannot ‘happen’ at any particular moment within it. The world must consequently have had no beginning in time. In sum, if the world had no beginning in time, then the world had a beginning in time, and if the world had a beginning in time, then the world had no beginning in time. Reason thereby confounds itself with this question.
The Second Antinomy asks whether the composite substances in the world are composed of simple, indivisible substances, or atoms, or whether all substances are continually decomposable into smaller and smaller units, endlessly. To begin, suppose that no composite substances are made up of indivisible substances, and that they are endlessly divisible. If so, then the composite substances will have no ultimate constituents. Since, as composites, the composite substances are not themselves ultimate, to deny that simple substances constitute them renders it impossible for there to be any composite substances at all, for there is nothing self-subsistent or foundational that could then constitute them. The composite substances must therefore be made of simple substances. If so, however, then the simple substances must occupy space and be perceivable, at least in principle. Everything that is perceivable is an organized manifold, though, so if the simple substances are perceivable, then they cannot be simple, but manifold, which brings us around into a circle. If composite substances are not composed of simple substances, then composite substances are composed of simple substances, and if composite substances are composed of simple substances, then composite substances are not composed of simple substances.
The Third Antinomy follows the same pattern. Suppose that we are not free. If so, then the only kind of causality is the mechanical, physical causality between events according to the laws of nature, which includes all of our bodily movements. For any effect, there is consequently a series of causes which explains that effect, extending into the past endlessly. If the series extends into the past endlessly, however, then the series lacks a beginning or completeness and is thus insufficient to explain the effect. To explain the effect adequately, we must introduce another kind of causality – one that can begin a series of events spontaneously of its own accord – which is called freedom. If, however, we assume the presence of freedom, then this will interrupt the array of mechanical causal patterns according to natural laws, which is impossible, if the patterns of the natural world are to remain intact and the world is to remain coherent. Thus to make sense of the laws of nature, we must suppose that we are free, and if we suppose that we are free, we cannot make sense of the laws of nature, which, once again, is a contradiction.
The Fourth Antinomy considers the existence of ‘an absolutely necessary being’ or God, broadly defined. The subject here is not ‘God’ in the traditional sense, as a transcendent being beyond space and time, but that of a necessary being within space and time. The line of reasoning refers us once more to the natural, causal sequence of events. Since each event in the causal sequence is a contingent being, there must be a being that is not contingent, but necessary, to explain the presence of the set of contingencies. The set of contingencies occurs in time, so as its foundation, the necessary being must also be in time. A necessary being in time would be an ‘uncaused’ cause, however, whose presence contradicts the law of causality’s requirement that every member of the series is caused by another prior member.
To avoid this difficulty, the necessary being might alternatively be regarded as the entire causal series, but this makes no sense, since the entire series cannot itself be necessary if no single member of it is necessary. Alternatively, the necessary being might be located outside of the series, but this makes it impossible for the being to act ‘in’ time to begin the series. In sum, if we suppose a contingent causal series of events, then there must be a necessary being that underlies the series, and if we suppose that a necessary being underlies the series, then contradictions arise that render such a necessary being impossible.
As with the Paralogisms, the Antinomies offer some consolation. Introducing the conclusions established in his theory of knowledge, Kant reiterates that ‘the world’ which we have been considering throughout these investigations is only phenomenal. It is the mere appearance of things in themselves and is nothing without us. In this respect, it is nonsensical for the First Antinomy to ask about whether in reality, the world had either a beginning or no beginning. Time is a form of the human mind, so there is no question of whether or not ‘in itself’ the world had a beginning. Similarly, the Second Antinomy’s question about whether the substances we experience are ‘in themselves’ either one or many is misplaced. The substances are in themselves neither one nor many, for we have no knowledge of their nature as transcendental objects.
The Third Antinomy questions whether or n
ot we are free. Kant replies that there is no need to choose here between mutually exclusive alternatives, since both options can be true in different respects. As phenomena, we are not free, but as things in themselves we may be free. Kant grounds his moral theory upon this double-aspected perspective, which we will examine later in more detail. Finally, the Fourth Antinomy asks whether in view of the causal chain of events in nature, there is a necessary being that supports the series of happenings. Kant’s response is that although within the field of appearances there can be no necessary being, since the field of appearances is simply that, appearances, outside of the realm of appearances there is the possibility of a necessary being as an ‘intelligible cause’ of what we experience in nature.
Spotlight: ‘Two worlds’ versus ‘one world’?
In his discussion of the antinomies and elsewhere, Kant often refers to the ‘world of appearances’ as opposed to the ‘world of things in themselves’, almost as if there were two different worlds. To understand his motivation for speaking like this, we can consider how in our ordinary thinking, light waves, which are colourless in themselves, travel through the air to stimulate our retinas and to produce, for us and in us, the experience of colour, as when we look at a bright white, shining star in the night sky. The star’s whiteness per se is not ‘out there’ far away in space in the star itself, just as the sour taste of a lemon is not ‘in’ the lemon itself, as it hangs from the lemon tree branch, untasted.
Kant extends the above kind of example in a radical way. We directly apprehend the thing-in-itself (just as in the above example, we directly perceive the star or the lemon), and this mind-independent being appears to us as a set of spatio-temporal objects. The objects’ very spatio-temporal quality compares to the whiteness and sourness in the above example, for according to Kant, space and time are not qualities of the thing-in-itself.
It is not, though, exactly as if these spatio-temporal appearances of the thing-in-itself constitute a completely separate ‘world’ of their own, just as the star’s whiteness or the lemon’s sourness in our original example do not constitute a separate world of their own. All of these appearances are intimately bound up with the mind-independent realities that stimulate them, just as our personal behaviour in the spatio-temporal world is intimately bound up with what we intelligibly and inscrutably are in our moral character.
One might consequently think that it would be better to talk about only one ‘world’ instead of two, but neither the ‘two worlds’ nor the ‘one world’ way of describing the situation is altogether satisfactory. The ‘two’ worlds phrasing fails to capture how the world of spatio-temporal appearances is closely bound up with the thing-in-itself; the ‘one’ world phrasing fails to capture how the mind-dependent qualities that we communally share, do indeed constitute an interconnected group of their own, which Kant calls ‘nature’, all of which, without our own presence on the scene, would otherwise disappear.
2 The ideal of pure reason – the knowledge of God
Reason, as we have seen, is a faculty that integrates our knowledge and seeks the ultimate truth. As an artifact of its effort to comprehend everything, the idea of God emerges. God is describable variously as that which ‘possesses all reality’, ‘the primordial being’, ‘the highest being’, ‘the being of all beings’, ‘the thing in itself’, or ‘the sum-total of all possibilities’. ‘God’ is that single object which admits of all these descriptions. Kant refers technically to God as an ‘ideal’ insofar as this being is conceived of as an object, or concrete individual, akin to how the ideal of a perfectly wise person embodies the idea of wisdom. As such, God is the ideal object of pure reason.
Following the philosophical tradition, Kant recognizes only three basic ways to prove God’s existence, and he argues that they all fail. One can start with pure concepts and aim through a definition of God, to prove God’s existence in a rationalistic way. One can start empirically with some existent object and reason to God’s existence from that object’s contingency. Or, similarly, one can start with some determinate observations about the world, such as noting the order within it, and try to establish God’s existence on that basis.
These approaches correspond to the three traditional arguments for God’s existence in the history of philosophy, namely, the ontological argument, the cosmological argument and the teleological argument. The ontological argument is based on a definition of God and infers God’s existence from the definition. The cosmological argument rests upon the observation that the world is filled with one or more contingently existing things, and infers God’s existence from the need to explain the presence of such things. The teleological argument, which Kant calls the physico-theological argument, and which is also called the ‘argument from design’, stems from observing how the world is intelligently ordered, and infers God’s existence from the presence of that order. With respect to these arguments, Kant writes:
I shall show that neither on the one path, the empirical, nor on the other, the transcendental, can reason make progress [to God’s existence], and that it stretches its wings in vain, if it tries to soar beyond the world of sense by the mere power of speculation.
(A591/B619)
The ontological argument, popular among religiously oriented thinkers, is first within Kant’s discussion. This argument defines God as the greatest, most perfect being, and infers that as such, ‘existence’ must be one of God’s qualities. The reasoning is that if the greatest, most perfect being lacked any positive qualities, then it would not be absolutely perfect, so as an absolutely perfect being, it cannot lack in existence, which is a positive quality. We know that God exists by thinking carefully about what it means to be God.
Kant questions, though, whether it makes sense to refer to existence as a quality at all, let alone a positive or negative quality. Considering the definition of God and the question of whether or not God exists in relation to that definition, Kant argues that the logic of the situation requires that the meaning of the definition, or concept, of God remain stable as we consider whether the object of the concept, God, exists. To see this, let us ask whether there are one hundred dollars in Immanuel’s pocket. Asking the question requires that we keep steadily in mind the concept, ‘one hundred dollars in Immanuel’s pocket’, as we determine whether an object, the money, corresponds to the concept. Whether or not Immanuel happens to have the money, is a matter independent of the content of the concept, ‘one hundred dollars in Immanuel’s pocket’. This concept must be kept constant while we determine an answer to the question. If the money ‘is’ there in his pocket, this fact does not reflect back to affect the content of the concept, ‘one hundred dollars in Immanuel’s pocket’. As Kant explains it, the existence of the money does not (absurdly) increase the amount mentioned in the concept from one hundred, to say, one hundred and one. Adding ‘existence’ does not bear on the concept’s content, and in the case of the definition of God, does not bear on God’s perfection.
To reinforce this point, consider the concept of a ‘broken down, malfunctioning old car’. If we add ‘existence’ to that concept, then it will not make the car any less broken down and malfunctioning, as if the additional existence could somehow ‘repair’ the car or make it ‘better’. The same is true for the concept of a demonic being. If we add ‘existence’ to that concept, this will not render the demonic being any less demonic. Existence, then, is not a property, predicate or perfection, as the ontological argument requires. Even if one admits that existence is a property of some kind, contra Kant, existence could be neutral in value, or worse yet, negative. In some ancient myths we encounter the proposition that it is better not to be.
Key idea: Existence is not a predicate or property
Suppose, as is usual, that some definition of an object provides us with a listing of the object’s essential properties. Suppose we then ask whether the object exists. If the object happens to exist, or if it happens not to exist, the object’s conceptual definitio
n must remain constant throughout the inquiry. Otherwise, we would not be referring to the same object. Existence, then, cannot be on the list of any object’s essential properties.
Kant does not believe that the ontological argument occurs naturally to people, and he regards it as an artificial product of scholastic philosophy. He is convinced that the argument was formulated as a supplement to the more fundamental and natural thought of wondering about the world, ‘from where it all came’. Such is the spirit of the cosmological argument. We observe things in the world and realize for any one of them, or for the entire world, that it did not have to be there. We realize the world’s contingency and ask therefore, how there could be anything at all, if there were not some necessary being at the universe’s foundation. To avoid the absurdity that a contingent being or an infinitely long chain of contingent beings could be out of nowhere and for no reason, one supposes that there must be an absolutely necessary being, which is God.
Kant’s immediate concern with the cosmological argument is in the last step, which equates an ‘absolutely necessary being’ with ‘God’, conceived of as ‘the highest reality’, ‘supreme being’, or ‘most real’ being. He denies that the thought of an absolutely necessary being implies a supreme being, since there is no contradiction in supposing that a limited being could be absolutely necessary. Polytheistic gods such as Zeus and Apollo, or Odin and Thor, could be examples.
If the cosmological argument is to succeed, the gap between ‘absolutely necessary being’ and ‘supreme being’, must be bridged. The argument starts with an existing contingent being and infers an existing absolutely necessary being. According to Kant, the only way to connect an absolutely necessary being with the more extensive thought of ‘the highest reality’, or ‘supreme being’ or ‘being than which no greater can be conceived’, is to argue conversely that the very idea of a supreme being implies the concept of an existing, absolutely necessary being. This, Kant observes, is none other than the ontological argument, which he has already shown to be invalid. He concludes that to reach a proper conception of God, the cosmological argument must rely on the ontological argument and consequently fails at least for that reason.
