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Paradigms in

Mathematics, Physics,
and Biology:
their Philosophical
Roots

DFM Strauss
(2001)
© TEKSKOR BK
P.O. Box 28378
Bloemfontein 9300

2001

ISBN 0-620-31329-3
Preface
The Renaissance optimism of the 14th and 15th centuries soon witnessed the
rise and successes of the modern natural sciences. Galileo claimed that the
language of nature is written in mathematical symbols and Alexander Pope
assessed the significance of Newton's Principia (1686) with his well-known
appreciation: “Nature and Nature's laws hid in night: God said: Let Newton
be! and all was light.” The belief that the mathematical natural sciences will be
able to understand and explain all of reality climaxed during the age of reason,
the Enlightenment of the 18th century. This classical era of modernism – dom-
inated by an unbridled trust in the capacities of human reason – eventually
was challenged by the rise of historicism at the beginning of the 19th century
and after the turn from “thought” to “language” by the end of the 19th century
through the new emphasis on understanding (hermeneutics) also by the rise of
contemporary postmodernism.
However, recently Alan Sokal and Jean Bricmont exposed the unfounded way
in which prominent postmodern thinkers abuse the mathematical natural sci-
ences in their writings (Fashionable Nonsense: Postmodern Intellectuals’
Abuse of Science, Picador, New York, 1998; cf. the German edition: Ele-
ganter Unsinn: Wie die Denker der Postmoderne die Wissenschaften miß-
brauchen, C.H. Beck, München 1999). These authors did not develop the pos-
itive side of their critique by exploring the indubitable interaction between
philosophy and the natural sciences. The aim of this book is precisely to look
at the constructive role of decisive philosophical pre-suppositions in the natu-
ral sciences.
Scientific reflection is embedded in theoretical thinking. The latter differenti-
ates into identifying and distinguishing on the basis of similarities and differ-
ences – which, in the case of scholarly activities, are articulated in a unique
language [see the sketch on page (iv)] . Yet the reality in which we live tran-
scends the limits of logical thinking and lingual articulation even though we
have to acknowledge that we do not have access to the world outside the do-
mains of thought and language. Scholarly reflection is constantly involved in
an analytical awareness of a given “more-than-logical” diversity which is al-
ways articulated by a language which is constantly subject to subtle alter-
ations in meaning and interpretation. The complicated interaction of these
and other even more central and direction-giving factors constitute the con-
flicting paradigms operative within the disciplines.
Of course this recognition also at once explains the historicity of scientific
endeavours – the fact that we have to recognize the inevitable historical un-
derpinnings of human activities. It may therefore often be helpful also to pay
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attention to the history of the natural sciences in order to come to a better un-
derstanding of the divergence between alternative theoretical paradigms
within them.

The claim that the natural sciences are free from philosophical pre-suppo-
sitions is itself indeed the effect of the influential philosophical orientation of
positivism and neo-positivism. Against the background of developments
within modern philosophy of science this work highlights diverging trends of
thought within the disciplines of mathematics, physics and biology while fo-
cusing upon the inevitable philosophical distinctions entailed in these differ-
ences. Although many of the selected issues discussed delve into some of the
frontiers of natural scientific reflection the reader with a secondary school ac-
quaintance with these disciplines will be able to follow the argumentation ex-
pressed in the various chapters.

The Author
(January 2001)

Identification = Synthesis
Similarities i.e., the bringing together
of the features united
in a concept

Analysis Abstraction

Differences
Example
Similarities-shown-in-the-differences
Difference

Social distance
Similarity

= ANALOGY = shown in
Differences-evinced-in-the-similarities
Spatial distance

Modal analogies - for example Entitary analogies - for example


physical space/original space; the elbow of my finger;
social distance/spatial distance the head of the mountain;
the modal grid of reality

Ante- and retrocipations Metaphors

(iv)
Contents

Foreword . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . (iii)
Chapter I
Fundamental Questions in the Philosophy of Science
An Initial Comment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
(Neo-)positivism and reactions to it. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
Background to neo-positivism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3
Reaction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4
Contemporary philosophy of science . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
The relation between Popper, Kuhn and Sneed. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6
The Dynamics of Theory Formation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6
Kuhn's critics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 7
Foundational problems and basic distinctions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8
The unique nature of science . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
Non-distinctive characteristics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
The distinctive characteristic of scientific
(theoretical) thought . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
Is Philosophy a Science? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13
Philosophy and the Special Sciences . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14
Philosophical Foundational Questions in the Special Sciences . . . . . . . . . 15
Chapter II

Foundational Philosophical problems in Mathematics

Introductory remarks . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
Definitions of mathematics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19
The Infinite in Greek Thought. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
A few further contours from the history of the infinite . . . . . . . . . . . . . 26
Infinitesimals and the second foundational crisis of mathematics . . . . . . . . 28
Cantor and Aristotle . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
(a) Aristotle's objections against the actual infinite . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
(b) Continuity in Aristotle and Cantor-Dedekind . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34
Non-denumerability: Cantor's Diagonal Proof. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
Comment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
The third foundational crisis in Mathematics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 38
Divergence of opinion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
Questioning completed infinitude . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42
The influence of intuitionism on the approach of Dooyeweerd . . . . . . . . . 45
Brief systematic assessment of the relationship between the potential
and the actual infinite . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46

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Chapter III
Basic questions in Physics
The Prejudice against Prejudices . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53
Discrepancy between philosophers of science and the
practitioners of science . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54
Property terms – the Achilles’ heel of positivism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 55
The measurement of time and modal time orders . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56
Time in the aspects of number and space . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58
The kinematical and the physical time order . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59
The uniqueness of Constancy and Dynamics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60
Perpetual motion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60
Closer reflections on constancy and change. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
The core of Einstein’s theory of relativity . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
An alternative formulation of the first main law of thermodynamics . . . . . . . 63
The theory of relativity and relativism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 63
Determinism and indeterminism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64
Order and delimitation in physics . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 65
The finite and limited cosmos in Greek culture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 66
Are there inaccessible limits in the natural sciences? . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
The unlimited but finite universe in Eintein’s theory of relativity . . . . . 67
Complementarity – limits to experimentation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67
Entities with a physical qualification . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 68
The unity and identity of an entity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 73
Physically qualified entities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 74
The wave particle duality and the idea of the typical totality
structure of an entity. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 76
Physically qualified structural interlacement . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 77
Paradigms in Mathematics, Physics, and Biology:
Their Philosophical Roots
Chapter IV
The Mosaic of philosophical stances in modern biology
Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 83
Biotically qualified entities . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84
What guarantees the identity of living things? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85
The origin of living things – a biological boundary question . . . . . . . . . . 87
Are viruses a transitional form between material and living entities? . . . . . . 88
Nominalist structural understanding in modern biological literature . . . . . . 90
Structureless continuity versus structural discontinuity . . . . . . . . . . . . . 92
Continuity of descent? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94
The structure of a nuclear living cell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 97
Physical-chemical constituents in the living cell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98
Organelles – the different organs in the cell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100
The quest for a basic denominator . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101
Conflicting views despite “the same facts”! . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 103

(vi)
Neo-Darwinism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104
Vitalism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 105
Holism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 107
Emergence evolutionism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108
Pan-psychism. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 108
Metabolism as first level of freedom . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109
A new mechanistic approach . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
Structural diversity founds structureless fantasies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
Structural dimensions of the cell – an enkaptic structural whole . . . . . . . 111
Chapter V
Remarks about the mystery of being human
Continuity or discontinuity between the various levels? . . . . . . . . . . . . 117
Is the fossil-record conclusive? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 119
Is there anything distinctive to human tools? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124
Do animals share the dimension of (human) logicality? . . . . . . . . . . . . 128
The human being as “Homo symbolicus”?. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 132
The anatomical conditions of human speech . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 133
Do human beings have ‘speech-organs’? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135
Does human experience of the world differ from that of the animals? . . . . . 135
The unspecialized traits of the human body . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 137
Is the human being to be seen as a deficient creature? . . . . . . . . . . . . . 139
The ontogenetic uniqueness of being human. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 142
Human freedom – the predominantly negative approach
of modern philosophy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144
Autonomous freedom versus natural causality . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 144
Bridging the abyss teleologically. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145
Entelechie negatively described: the influence of Hans Driesch . . . . . . . . 146
Reinforced dialectics: Existentialism and Existential Phenomenology . . . . 148
Freedom at the molecular level. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
The rejection of structural conditions: nominalism . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 149
The common root of diverging trends in modern philosophy . . . . . . . . . 152
Human freedom: a subjective response to normative conditions. . . . . . . . 154
Conclusion . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156
Consulted Works
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 159
Index of Technical Terms . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171
Index of Persons . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175

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Paradigms in Mathematics,
Physics, and Biology:
Their Philosophical Roots

Chapter I
Fundamental Questions in the Philosophy of Science

An Initial Comment
Since the concept natural science is usually identified with physics it is proper
to begin our train of thought with the words of a well known physicist of this
century. Carl Friedrich von Weizsäcker once commented on the presupposi-
tions of modern natural scientific thought, saying that “it is an empirical fact
that virtually all leading physicists of our time philosophize” (1972:42).
This is no brand new revelation, although it is carefully hidden behind the
mask which a particular philosophical approach forced upon physics at the
beginning of the 20th century. Positivism – also later known as neo-positivism
– convinced natural scientists that all good science must be practised without
any prejudices or presuppositions whatsoever, and that good science could
only be practiced by always referring to “empirical phenomena” when mak-
ing scientific statements. We can also thank this philosophical trend for a par-
ticular elaboration of the opposition between thought and experience. Ein-
stein, for instance, was strongly influenced by Ernst Mach – a leading natural
scientist who supported positivism around the end of the 19th century – but
later developed towards giving priority to theoretical thought. In his Preface
to the English translation of Werner Heisenberg's work on the relationship be-
tween physics and philosophy, Northrop comments on Einstein's emphasis
that “...the physical scientist only arrives at his theory by speculative means.
The deduction in his method runs not from facts to the assumptions of the the-
ory but from the assumed theory to the facts and the experimental data” (cf.
Heisenberg, 1958:3-4).
In his Herbert Spencer lecture at Oxford on 10 June 1933 Einstein himself cat-
egorically stated that no bridge could be erected between pure logical thought
and our experience of reality: “Pure logical thinking can give us no knowl-
edge whatsoever of the world of experience; all knowledge about reality be-
gins with experience and terminates in it” (contained in Coley & Hall,
1980:144). This statement touches on the core of epistemology – i.e. the ques-
tion how we obtain knowledge of reality. This question, however, is a typical
1
philosophical basic question for every conceivable particular scientific disci-
pline. The answer we give to it can therefore not be divorced from particular
philosophical presuppositions and orientations.
The correctness of this statement coheres inter alia with the important influ-
ence exerted historically – and still today – by particular philosophical ap-
proaches. After all, the words quoted from Einstein truly gain depth when un-
derstood against the background of Immanuel Kant's “Kritik der reinen
Vernunft” (Critique of Pure Reason) which was originally already written in
1781 (second impression 17872). Kant was convinced by his British predeces-
sor, David Hume, that exact natural laws cannot be founded in “experience.”
Kant could not, however, agree with Hume's conviction (strikingly similar to
a facet of Einstein's statement above) that we obtain all knowledge from sen-
sory perception or “experience.”1 Kant was impressed by the ability of human
beings to mentally formulate the laws which the perceptible things in nature
obey. He consequently focused on the (epistemological) question how such
knowledge is possible.
Kant was particularly impressed by the contribution of Galileo to the develop-
ment of the modern natural sciences. Galileo's formulation of his law of iner-
tia followed exactly the way of a pure thought experiment. In his famous 1638
treatise on “two new sciences” Galileo used the following thought experi-
ment: if a body is put in motion on an indefinitely extended track, then this
body would continue its motion infinitely, i.e. it would not discontinue its mo-
tion except if something exerts power on it (e.g. gravity or friction).
From this Kant draws the following conclusion: if it is possible for Galileo to
formulate a thought experiment out of the spontaneous subjectivity of his the-
oretical thought and to deduce a natural law from it – the kinematical law of
inertia – this must mean that elements of knowledge are previously present in
the human mind, which in the first place makes our knowledge of reality pos-
sible. Without going any deeper into this particular question, it is already clear
that we can only really understand Einstein's statement if it is placed in the
context of this foundational philosophical epistemological approach. Ein-
stein's view of “experience” reaches back to the train of thought of Hume,
while his view of the mind (thought) appears to be similar to that of Kant,
while simultaneously differing from it since he assigns a more independent
status to theoretical thought.2
Kant's so-called ‘Copernican’ revolution in epistemology, in ascribing the
primacy no longer to the ‘object’ but to the (formal law-giving) subject, rein-
forced the notion of things within nature as ‘objects’. Someone inclined to de-
1 “To hate, to love, to think, to feel, to see, all this is nothing but to perceive.” Hume made this
statement in his book: A Treatise of Human Nature, I,2,6.
2 Although Einstein differs from Kant's view, he nevertheless did not want to be precise as far
as his own relationship to Kant is concerned. In April 1922 the Société Française de
Philosophie arranged a discussion about the significance of Einstein's theory of relativity for
philosophy. Answering a question concerning his relationship with Kant Einstein merely
stated that ‘each philosopher has his own Kant' and that he cannot infer from the question
what Kant interpretation it presupposes.

2
fend the neutrality of observation normally would be willing to accept as the
most general observation-term the notion of an ‘object’: all the different
things in nature are to be seen as ‘objects’. However, this observation-term in
itself displays the tremendous subjectivistic assumption so deeply ingrained
in our Western notion of science – as such causing the inability to appraise
things in nature as genuine subjects, i.e. as being subjected to God's
creational order (law-order) for their existence as material things, plants or an-
imals. Although these things could be objectified by humans, this objectifi-
cation pre-supposes their primary existence as subjects and not as objects!
In this brief discussion of the philosophical foundations of the natural sci-
ences we want to provide a brief survey of a few perspectives, using a few
prominent approaches in particular natural sciences as examples. The inten-
tion is to simultaneously place the discussion in the context of recent develop-
ments in the newer philosophy of science which has been greatly stimulated in
particular by Thomas Kuhn's The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (1962,
19702) – the focus of the rest of this introductory chapter.
(Neo-)positivism and reactions to it
(Neo-)positivism can be described as the philosophical idolization of the ex-
perimental method on the basis of sensory perception. The central concept of
the Wiener Kreis, in the twenties and thirties of the 20th century, was the “ver-
ification principle.”
As we briefly indicated above, the modern epistemological heritage draws a
distinction between two original sources of knowledge: the mind and the
senses (thought and experience – cf. Kant), on occasion amended with intu-
ition as an ultra-sensory and super-rational organ of knowledge. Following
Kant we could distinguish between transcendentalists and empiricists. The
latter, particularly well-represented in the British tradition, would eventually
develop into (neo-)positivism, which designed a scientific methodology
which begins with particular sensory data/sense-impressions on the one hand
and the logical construction of entities from these on the other. Thence the
progression of empirical perception-hypothesizing-testing (verification)-the-
ory formation (verified hypothesis), a methodical approach certainly not un-
known to the “experimental” natural sciences.
Background to neo-positivism
Related to Kant we find the 19th century positivism of Ernst Mach which, on
the grounds of empirical (i.e. sensory) perception, includes only mathematics
and physics in the house of the sciences. This delimitation of science led to the
position of Wittgenstein, the mathematician-engineer-philosopher, to the
point of view that the limits of my language are the limits of my world
(Tractatus 5.6.). According to Wittgenstein the task of philosophy is to delimit
the controversial terrain of the natural sciences (= physics) (4.113) – and the
totality of the natural sciences constitutes the totality of true propositions
(4.11). That which transcends the propositions of physics (which is meaning-
ful) and logic (the propositions of which are tautologies and therefore mean-
ingless: 4.461) cannot be known or lingually expressed – it belongs to the
3
sphere of nonsense. The objection that the Tractatus itself would be a victim
of such a delimitation of science (to logic and natural science) is obviated by
Wittgenstein with his comment that his propositions serve an illuminating
end:
“anyone who understands me eventually recognizes them as nonsensical,
when he has used them – as steps – to climb up beyond them. (He must, so to
peak, throw away the ladder after he has climbed up it” (6.54)!

Reaction
The famous philosopher of science of the 20th century, sir Karl Popper, re-
acted strongly against this attempt at delimitation by Wittgenstein. He investi-
gates, for instance, the following sentence by Wittgenstein: “Philosophy is no
theory, but an activity” (4.112). This sentence clearly does not belong to the
totality of natural scientific propositions, and therefore also not to the totality
of true propositions. On the other hand it is not a false proposition either, since
if it was, then its negation would have to be true and therefore belong to the
natural sciences. The only possibility would then be the mentioned conclusion
of Wittgenstein (6.54): the sentence is nonsensical. Although Wittgenstein
admits with this that the Tractatus is nonsensical, he declares in the final para-
graph of the Preface that the truth of his notions appear to him unassailable
and definitive. He is even of the opinion that he has on all cardinal points
found the final solution to the problems. Popper reacts sharply to this: “This
shows that we can communicate unassailably and definitely true thoughts by
way of propositions which are admittedly nonsensical, and that we can solve
problems finally by propounding nonsense.” The implication is that “[i]t
means that all the metaphysical nonsense against which Bacon, Hume, Kant
and Russell have fought for centuries may now comfortably settle down, and
even frankly admit that it is nonsense. For we now have a new kind of non-
sense at our disposal, nonsense that communicates thoughts whose truth is un-
assailable and definitive; in other words, deeply significant nonsense” (cf.
1968, as well as 1966:296ff)!
Popper asks himself how one can oppose this position of Wittgenstein. Every
possible objection against it is after all philosophical and therefore nonsense!
According to Popper this is simply fortified dogmatism, since all that is re-
quired, is to delimit the concept sense (or: meaning) in an appropriately nar-
row way so as to rid oneself of all awkward questions by simply saying that
you do not find them meaningful. Every reasoned objection to this conception
of meaning is simply rejected as nonsensical: “Once enthroned, the dogma of
meaning is for ever raised above the possibility of attack. It is unassailable and
definitive.”
This meaning-conception of Wittgenstein, with its included delimitation of
science, is just as untenable as the “verification principle” of neo-positivism.
The term “logical positivism” (or logical empiricism) was brought into being
to refer to a group of philosophers, logicians and mathematicians who became
known in Vienna as “der Wiener Kreis.” The movement originally centered
around Moritz Schlick, with philosophically oriented members such as
4
Carnap, Neurath, Feigl, Waismann, Zilsel and Kraft, as well as natural scien-
tific and mathematically oriented members like Frank, Menger, Gödel and
Hahn. Carnap, Neurath and Hahn in 1929 published a manifesto entitled
“Wissenschaftliche Weltauffassung, Der Wiener Kreis.” In this circle Witt-
genstein's Tractatus was also discussed and from it (cf. 4.024) they borrowed
their famous verification principle: the meaning of a statement lies in the man-
ner by which it is verified.
In his Language, Truth and Logic (1936) A.J. Ayer explains that factual asser-
tions are subject to the following criterion of verification: a sentence is mean-
ingful for any specific person if and only if that person which perceptions
would lead him (under certain conditions) to accept the proposition as true or
to reject it as false (1967:35). A closer analysis causes Ayer to distinguish be-
tween a strong and a weak sense of verification. A proposition is verifiable in
the first sense, if and only if the truth thereof can be conclusively determined
in experience. A proposition is verifiable in the latter sense if it is possible to
render the experience probable (1967:36-38). Ayer fully realizes that general
formulations of laws cannot be conclusively verified – in consequence he has
to accept verification in the weak sense. In a later preface (1946) he is none-
theless of the opinion that there exists a class of empirical propositions which
are conclusively verifiable. These are the basic propositions which refers ex-
clusively to the content of a single experience and which can be identified as
unique. Ayer is convinced that he has eliminated all metaphysics by means of
this verification-criterion.
Contemporary philosophy of science
The newer theory of science of the past 40 years has realized, due to the influ-
ence of Popper, Toulmin, Polanyi (originally a chemist) and especially
Thomas Kuhn (physicist) that even physics is inevitably gripped by a theoreti-
cal picture of reality (paradigm) and that it is possible to speak meaningfully
of an ultimate commitment in every scientific activity – a central heart convic-
tion out of which the scientist accounts for the deepest fundamental questions
of his/her scientific practice. This realization came about partly because of the
non-verifiability of the (neo-positivist) verification principle. As an alterna-
tive to (neo-)positivism Popper defends a critical rationalism, that is a ratio-
nalism which recognizes that faith in the rationality of reason is itself not ratio-
nal: “we may describe it as an irrational faith in reason” (1966:321).1 This cre-
1 Stegmüller once remarked: “One should not delimit science in order to create room for faith.
Much rather it is the case that one already has to believe something in order to be able to speak
about knowledge and science as such” (“Man muss nicht das Wissen beseitigen, um den
Glauben Platz zu machen. Vielmehr muss mann bereits etwas glauben, um überhaupt von
Wissen und Wissenschaft reden zu können” New Introduction, Stegmüller, 1969:33); “some-
where an ultimate knowing must be given; without that we could not even start” (“Irgendein
absolutes Wissen muß es geben; ohne dieses könnten wir überhaupt nicht beginnen”
1969:194); “We should already ‘dispose of’ an absolute evidence. i.e. we have to believe in it
in advance, ...” (“Absolute Evidenz müssen wir schon ‘haben’, d.h. wir müssen an sie bereits
glauben, ...” 1969:194); “in science believing is found, in religion one knows (or: pretends to

5
ated room for the conviction that the range of science should not be narrowly
reduced to the limits of (the methods of) mathematics, physics and logic (as
the modern natural science-ideal claims) – it is as wide as all of creation.
The relation between Popper, Kuhn and Sneed
The current and dominant (even if implicit) positions of natural scientists and
many philosophers with regard to the theory of science claims that the “empir-
ical sciences” developed in a linear and continually progressive manner, that
is that in these sciences we can speak of a linear accumulation of knowledge.
Broadly seen this accumulative growth methodically gains access to more and
better observatory and measuring instruments which give rise to the discovery
of new facts. The depth dimension of this concerns the theoretical lines of
connection which can be accessed when empirical regularities are replaced by
regularities which can be mathematically formulated, and which are then im-
bedded in theoretical designs. This progression implies at the same time that
one can get rid of the ‘unscientific elements’ in the scientific tradition.
Stegmüller points out that it is exactly this image of the cumulative increase of
knowledge which is false in principle according to Kuhn (cf. 1975, pp.484ff).
The Dynamics of Theory Formation
In his work on The Structure and Dynamics of Theories formation Stegmüller
gives an elaboration of Kuhn's thought as reflected in the spirit of his critics
(cf. 1976:135ff). His assumption, however, is that his sketch is an approxima-
tion of the impression which Kuhn's work would make in the mind of impar-
tial critical readers.
The fascinating historical backdrop which is relevant here, is provided else-
where by Stegmüller when he compares Hume, Carnap, Popper and Kuhn.
The classical rationalistic conviction that science can provide definitive, in-
dubitable knowledge was already seriously doubted by David Hume, particu-
larly with reference to “empirical knowledge.” It was already widely accepted
that the experiential sciences would proceed inductively, without it being at
all clear what exactly would characterise this method.
Hume admits that the empirical sciences could only with aid from the induc-
tive principle reach generalizations which bring into view the regularities
which provide insight into future occurrences out of past experience. It is re-
markable that according to Hume no rational foundation exists for this princi-
ple! Every attempt to provide such a foundation leads either to an infinite re-
gression, or a logical circle. In consequence the empirical sciences follow the
inductive method, while maintaining that this method is irrational, since the
foundational inductive principle cannot be founded or legitimated.
Using the concept of logical probability Carnap attempted to rescue the ratio-
nal status of induction, which consequently implies for him that the experien-

know)” (“in der Wissenschaft wird geglaubt, in der Religion weiss man (oder: behauptet
man, zu wissen)” 1969:212).

6
tial sciences proceed both inductively and rationally.1 Popper, as is well
known, reacted with sharp criticism to the supposedly inductive nature of nat-
ural scientific research. The discovery of scientific theories is and remains en-
tirely speculative and their can be no foundation or legitimation by any means
– at most a deductive method of testing. This means that theory formation pro-
ceeds rationally and non-inductively – against verification Popper's sets falsi-
fication.2
According to Stegmüller, what would appear to be unique and unprecedented
in Kuhn's work,
“is the fact that he appears to impute irrational behavior to the practitioners of
the exact natural sciences (of all people!). And indeed he appears to impute it
to both of the forms of the scientific practice distinguished by him. Anyone en-
gaged in normal science is a narrow-minded dogmatist clinging uncritically to
his theory. Those engaged in extraordinary research leading to scientific revo-
lutions are religious fanatics under the spell of conversion, trying by all means
of persuasion and propaganda to convert others to the new paradigm as re-
vealed to themselves.” (1976, p.vii).
Not only do the natural scientists work in an irrational manner – according to
the critics of Kuhn it would appear as if he is also a proponent of the
non-inductive nature of the natural sciences.
A comparison between the four mentioned figures provides the following pic-
ture:
(1) Hume: the natural sciences proceed inductively and non-rationally;
(2) Carnap: the natural sciences proceed inductively and rationally;
(3) Popper: the natural sciences proceed non-inductively and rationally;
(4) Kuhn: the natural sciences proceed non-inductively and non-rationally;
(cf. Stegmüller, 1975:487-490).
Kuhn's critics
The first obvious matter emphasized by Kuhn is that no single process thus far
exposed through historical research shows even the least similarity with Pop-
per's doctrine of falsification. An experience standing in contradiction to a
theory does not, according to Kuhn, indicate a shortcoming in the theory,
since it only discredits the person who holds the particular theory! Of course
Popper admits that his intention was solely to give an account of what Kuhn
has called exceptional research and that he consequently neglected the phe-
nomenon of normal science. The normative methodology designed by Pop-
per, still means that he wants to overcome the nature of normal scientific prac-
tice (in Kuhn's sense) in permanent revolution.
Stegmüller nonetheless points out that it would be mistaken to believe that the
differences between Kuhn and his critics are limited to their evaluation of the
1 Keep in mind that the older inductivists were first of all directed towards what Hans
Reichenbach called the context of discovery as distinct from the context of justification,
whereas modern inductivists are focussed on the latter.
2 Blaise Pascal (1623-1662) already defended a similar view. According to him a hypothesis
could never be ‘verified’ by experience. Experience may however prove it false.

7
nature of normal scientific practice. According to Kuhn it after all never oc-
curs that a new theory emerges because an old theory could not give account
of experiential data. The old theory is rather replaced immediately by a new
theory, without the mediation of any experience (cf. Stegmüller, 1980/I:28).
Reacting to these perspectives, and especially in reaction to the negative (rela-
tivistic and irrationalistic) picture which critics of Kuhn created of Kuhn's
contributions, Stegmüller aimed rather to determine what Kuhn established as
a competent theorist of science, and to process this material logically
(1980/I:29). Although it would continue our train of thought beyond the pur-
poses of the current context to go into the Stegmüller-Sneed modification of
Kuhn (cf. Strauss, 1987), it is still meaningful to mention its central point. In
the Stegmüller-Sneed modification of Kuhn attention is given to the problem
of the immunity of scientific theories against falsification – with as a central
concept the non-falsifiable structural core of a “theory.”1
Foundational problems and basic distinctions
In distinction to Kuhn's emphasis on the nature of scientific revolutions,
Holton gave emphasis to the persistent themes in science – with as central
concept the role of a paradigm or disciplinary matrix linked to the idea of a
Gestalt-switch. The foundational problem with regard to this difference of
opinion has not only repeatedly played a role in the history of the natural sci-
ences, but simultaneously has dominated the history of philosophy to a great
extent and can still be found back today in practically all areas of scientific
practice.
At the beginning of this elaboration we briefly noted the thought experiment
of Galileo with regard to the nature of a body in motion on a straight course.
With this argumentation Galileo – albeit influenced by particular earlier
thinkers from the transitional period from the middle ages to the modern age –
abandoned the classical Aristotelian notion that a moving body must be kept
in motion by some or other causal force. Galileo realized that motion must be
acknowledged as an original given in its own right. The concept cause after all
already presupposes the given nature of a continuously moving body – since
we can only meaningfully consider changes in motion which might occur
(whether decelerating or accelerating) on the grounds of this given. In both
cases a cause is necessary – but not a cause of motion: rather a cause for the
change in motion. In pure kinematics the concept change strictly speaking has
no place. In a physical sense acceleration can never occur in a discontinuous
way. A discontinuous acceleration would require an infinite physical force – a
physical impossibility (cp. the remark by Janich, 1975:69).
Plato was already confronted by the problem of continuity and change. In his
famous theory of ideas he strove to gain knowledge of all things. Since he also
1 Newton's law of gravity is used to substantiate this argument – a physical law evincing modal
universality. Galileo's law of inertia is another example of a universal modal law which could
only be formulated on the basis of modal abstraction and not on the basis of ‘empirical exper-
imentation’. Later on we shall explain that modal laws holds universally in an unspecified
way, whereas typical (entitary) laws are only applicable to a limited class of entities.

8
studied with a student of Heraclitus, namely Cratylus, he was confronted from
the beginning with the doctrine that everything changes. Heraclitus famous
maxim is that no-one can enter the same river twice. Plato asks if this ap-
proach does not suspend the possibility of knowledge: if everything con-
stantly changes it would after all not be possible to know anything, since as
soon as we attempt to approach knowledge the thing has already essentially
changed and has therefore escaped the grasp of our knowledge. The only way
out Plato could find was speculative. He assumes a static being – the so-called
aujto; to ei\do" (essential being) – which is not subject to any change and
which guarantees the knowability of every thing. In his dialogue Cratylus he
states it in the following manner: if the aujto; to ei\do" of knowing changes into
a different aujto; to ei\do" no knowledge (either subjectively or objectively)
would be possible (440 a-b). Plato postulates a trans-sensory sphere in which
these supposed eidè reside. This world of ideas can only be thought of men-
tally, it cannot be observed through sensory perception. Note that we find here
an earlier expression of the opposition between thought and experience which
we have already mentioned with regard to the manner in which Einstein gave
priority to theoretical thought above (experimental) experiential data.
Although we no longer find the speculative solution offered by Plato accept-
able, we cannot deny that Plato built an extremely significant insight into his
argument. He realized that it is not possible to determine any change except on
the basis of durability or constancy. Stated differently: changes can only be
determined on the basis of something relatively constant.
Although we shall return to this insight with regard to Einstein's theory of rel-
ativity, we want at this stage to indicate a few further problems which have
played a role in the history of philosophy. Time and again thinkers have been
confronted with the question whether reality can be illuminated in terms of a
single point of view, or whether a multiplicity of explanatory approaches
should not be recognised. The earliest philosophical designs already at-
tempted to find repose in a single explanatory perspective which is elevated to
the foundational denominator in terms of which all of reality must be under-
stood. The Pythagoreans, for instance, were of the opinion that everything is
number. Since the mechanics of Galileo modern physics has been enamored
by the (mechanistic) conviction that all physical phenomena can be described
exhaustively in terms of mechanical movement (of mass points, whether
charged or not).
If the way of multiple explanatory approaches is chosen, the next problem
would of course be to attempt to determine which various explanatory ap-
proaches can actually be distinguished and to trace what the mutual coherence
and relation among these various possible approaches might be.
The discipline of modern biology negatively illustrates the possibility of mul-
tiple explanatory approaches. We need only consider the following trends
which have yielded prominent representatives: the mechanistic approach,
physicalism (including neo-Darwinism), (neo-)vitalism, holism, organismic
biology, emergence evolutionism and pan-psychism (whether monistic in the
manner of Thailhard de Chardin or pluralistic in the manner of Rensch).
9
We could also refer to this as the problem of unity and diversity, or even unity
in diversity. A third problem is closely linked to both the preceding questions,
namely the question regarding the relationship between that which can be
considered to be universal and that which can be considered to be individual.
People who designate (“objective”) reality to universalia (universals) have
historically been known as realists. Plato for instance confesses that the ideas
of his world of ideas posses reality and universality independently of human
knowing thought. Universality in this case functions in two senses:
(i) it exists independently of the knowing human soul and
(ii) it exerts an appeal on everything – wherever. Varieties of this realistic
approach later received the label of platonism.
In opposition to this platonic realism we traditionally encounter those who are
of the opinion that no universality exists outside the knowing human soul.
Only the human soul is able to abstract the immense multiplicity of things out-
side itself to the unity of particular concepts and/or words. The only form of
universality acknowledged by this alternative is that of concepts or words in
the human soul. The latter function as substitutes, mere nomina (names) for
the things outside the soul. It is for this reason that this approach is known as
nominalism. Nominalism not only denies the reality of universality outside
the human soul, but also implicitly denies the order-side of the diversity
within reality. At most it offers as an alternative the notion that the ordering
instance in reality is human thought itself.

Although these two isms – realism and nominalism – are virtually of the same
age as philosophy itself, both are still alive and well in contemporary scien-
tific thought. To bring their actuality to your attention it is enough merely to
note that the dominant trend in 20th century mathematics is platonic while the
dominant trend in contemporary biology is nominalistic!

With this fleeting introduction of three fundamental problems of science – the


problematic relationships between constancy and dynamics, unity and diver-
sity, and universality and individuality, we have by no means exhausted the
menu! We will however suffice with only pointing out that a further cardinal
foundational problem is constituted by the relationship between laws and that
which is factually subject to laws. Answers to the question of the status of
laws commonly diverge in two directions: firstly the direction towards order
in the variety of explanatory options which provide access to (theoretical)
analysis and study of reality and secondly the direction towards the typical
structure of particular groupings of entities. Behind this stands the quest for
truth, which, according to the physicist Stafleu (1980) can differentiate in
these two tracks when it is focused on the question of order or structure.

One way to form a clearer understanding of this important distinction can be


explored by beginning with a brief investigation into the nature of science –
with the intention of determining what makes science unique, i.e. what distin-
guishes science from our everyday non-scientific thinking.
10
The unique nature of science
To answer the question “what is science?” we need to identify the nature of
science by noting those particular characteristics which distinguish science
from everything which is not science. Identification and distinction (i.e. anal-
ysis) presupposes dealing with similarities and differences. Indicating what
science is has two sides: the similarity-side and the difference-side. Science
has characteristics which are not distinctive since in some regards science is
similar to non-scientific activities.
As an illustration of what is meant with identification and distinction, we can
ask how we can distinguish between a material thing and a plant:
(i) There are fundamental similarities between plants and physical things. A
plant, for instance, has a characteristic mass – a feature shared with ma-
terial things. Similarly both plants and material things have a certain spa-
tial extension, a certain durability and a certain unity.
(ii) Only when we pay attention to the fact that plants are alive do we come
into touch with the difference-side in the comparison of matter and
plants – with the distinctive characteristic of being-a-plant/“plantness.”
A starting point would appear to be given in the observation that every scien-
tific activity is a thought-activity. This characteristic still does not distinguish
science from non-scientific activities, since someone who is not scientifically
engaged can also think. When we focus this question more closely by asking:
what sort of thought is scientific thought? we can begin with those character-
istics shared by scientific and non-scientific thought.
Non-distinctive characteristics
(a) Is scientific thought systematic thought? Certainly, but this is by no
means a distinctive characteristic of science. The judge who is preparing
a verdict in court must similarly work systematically in his argumenta-
tion – but this does not mean that a legal verdict changes into a legal sci-
entific dissertation.
(b) Is it verifiable thought? While the answer to this must also be in the affir-
mative (taking into account the big controversy in contemporary theory
of science over the meaning of this characteristic), it is still not a distinc-
tive characteristic, since the judge mentioned above must also verify that
every bit of evidence under consideration is trustworthy.
(c) Is it methodical thought? Since there are also non-scientific methods of
doing, it will always be necessary to distinguish between scientific and
non- scientific methods. Indicating methodology as the distinctive char-
acteristic of science only leads to a tautology (repetition): scientific
method is scientific!
(d) Particularly tired and disseminated is the notion that science centers in
the relationship between a scientific researcher (the “knowing subject”)
and that which is studied, the “study object.” In the first place we need to
note that the subject-object relation is common to non-scientific human
experience: we need but consider the human subject using social objects
(like furniture), or technical objects (tools), economic objects (money),
11
semiotic objects (books), aesthetic objects (paintings), ethical objects
(engagement or wedding rings), legal objects (property), and the like.
All these objects indicate concrete entities which can equally much be studied
by various special sciences (each from its own distinctive perspective). Let us
briefly look at the many perspectives which provide access to the analysis of a
social object like a lounge chair. The chair has four legs (numerical aspect: in-
terest of mathematical number theory); it is big or small (spatial aspect: math-
ematical theory of space); it could be a rocking chair (kinematic aspect: kine-
matics); it is strong or weak (physico-chemical aspect); it could be useful in
human life (as biotical object; since the chair itself is not alive – biology stud-
ies reality from the perspective of the biotical aspect); it is comfortable (sensi-
tive/psychic aspect: psychology); someone conceived it (analytical aspect:
logic); it is culturally shaped (historical aspect: historical science, which
would be interested in the historical development of various chair styles); it
has a name (a verbal sign – semiotic aspect: general semiotics and linguistics);
it is used in the interaction among people (social aspect: sociology); it has a
price (economic aspect: economics); it is beautiful or ugly (aesthetic aspect:
aesthetics); it belongs to someone who has a subjective right (the comptence
of enjoying it and disposing over it) to it (juridical aspect: legal science); it is
someone's favourite chair (ethical aspect: ethics); and it is trustworthy – ev-
erybody trusts that the chair will bear the weight of a person sitting on it (faith
aspect: perspective of theology as a science).
From this example it is clear that the cardinal question is not: with what object
(entity, event or societal relationship) does this or that science engage itself,
but: from what perspective (aspect, way of being, mode, modality, function,
facet) of reality are certain things, events and societal relationships studied by
a special science.
Only when we have brought the diversity of aspects of reality into sight can
these scientifically distinguished aspects serve as gateways to the study of
data. How do we bring these aspects into sight? Only once we have asked this
question have we stepped beyond the similarities of science and non-science.
The distinctive characteristic of scientific
(theoretical) thought
Since the aspects of reality indicate the framework within which all entities
function concretely we can also refer to them as creational ways of being. The
manner in which something is approached is also known as the modus ope-
randi, and from this Latin term modus we derive the term modality (= way of
being, aspect). When we therefore identify a particular modality (aspect) as
such and distinguish it from other modalities, we must abstract the concerned
aspect. This process is referred to as modal abstraction.
Whoever is engaged in modal abstraction, relinquishes the non-relevant as-
pects and focuses theoretical-logical attention on one particular aspect. The
distinctive characteristic of theoretical-logical (=scientific) thought, there-
fore, is modal abstraction. Exactly because all concrete entities function in all
the various aspects of reality (cf. the lounge chair example above), the ab-
12
stracted modalities (aspects) provide access to the analysis of the structures of
such entities.
Although non-scientists certainly have an analytical awareness of the diverse
aspects, this does not mean that in our non-scientific experience of reality we
ever achieve modal abstraction. One would not, for instance, in one's non-sci-
entific experience, reflect on the nature and structure of the numerical aspect
when one notices six people walking past one's house, just as little as one
would develop an economic price theory when one notices that a car costs
R30 000. Without an analytical consciousness of the diversity of aspects in re-
ality, one would not, however, have any conception of what was meant when
someone comments that a certain car is so beautiful but so expensive. Beauty
(aesthetic aspect) and price (economic aspect) are facets of one's total experi-
ence of cars, although we would still maintain that these aspects are generally
noticed in a non-abstractive manner of and in entities.
A particular kind of abstraction is part of our non-scientific experience, re-
ferred to with the apparently contradictory term of concrete abstraction (or:
entitary abstraction). A little child who first notices a dove and learns its name
can already abstract concretely, for instance when s/he shortly thereafter re-
fers to a sparrow as a “dove.” The child actually indicates the concept bird
with the name (verbal sign) dove. This is only possible because the child has
lifted out certain bird-characteristics out of the concrete sensory perceived im-
age of a dove (e.g. a beak, wings, feathers) and simultaneously relinquished
the specific characteristics which distinguishes the dove from the sparrow.1
This kind of abstraction is part of our everyday life, since we are continually
identifying all sorts of entities, placing them in certain categories. Otherwise
how would one be able to identify a particular horse as a horse (=belonging to
the category of horses), or a particular car as a car? Without general concepts
such as cars and horses (in which the detail of particular cars and horses are
relinquished), this would be impossible.
This kind of abstraction does not provide us with theoretical insight into the
nature of any aspect, since – as we shall still see – the aspects belong to a sepa-
rate dimension which must be distinguished from the dimension of en-
tity-structures.
Is Philosophy a Science?
If it is true that modal abstraction is the distinctive characteristic of science,
then it should be obvious that we can distinguish within the category of sci-
ences between the kind of science limited to the perspective of a particular as-
pect, and the kind of science which pays attention to the foundational coherent
interlacement among all the aspects of reality – a coherence which also serves
as the foundation of a theoretical analysis (=an analysis via the gateway of ab-
stracted aspects) of the interlacement which exists between the wide diversity
of concrete entities, events and societal relationships. The latter kind of sci-
1 Note the symmetry between analysis and abstraction: analysis rests on the two legs of identi-
fication and distinction which is equivalent to the nature of abstraction as it is revealed in lift-
ing out and relinquishing (compare the sketch in the Preface).

13
ence (focused on a coherent total view of the diversity of reality) we call phi-
losophy. Every science limited to the perspective of a particular modality we
call a special science.
Philosophy and the Special Sciences
The fact that theoretical thought entails modal abstraction has important im-
plications for every (modally delimited) particular special science. Modal ab-
straction entails theoretical analysis and we have briefly pointed out that anal-
ysis on the basis of similarity and difference is aimed at the identification and
distinction of data. Theoretical analysis would therefore be aimed at the iden-
tification of a particular aspect in distinction from other aspects. If reality con-
tained only one aspect, analysis as such would be impossible, because we can
only identify an aspect by simultaneously distinguishing it from all aspects
which differ from the identified aspect. Theoretical analysis (modal abstrac-
tion) must therefore always simultaneously consider at least two differing as-
pects.
If a special scientific discipline delimits its domain of study to the perspective
of a single aspect, then it is obvious that the identification of the domain of
study of a special science can never be seen as an activity of that special sci-
ence or as an activity taking place within the perspective of a particular aspect
– simply because more than one aspect is involved in the identification of any
aspect! Since only philosophy can engage more than one particular aspect in
its theoretical purview, this implies that no special science can indicate its
own delimited domain of investigation without proceeding from some or
other philosophical view of the coherence which can account for the similari-
ties and differences among the diverse aspects of reality. In other words: the
nature of modal abstraction as distinctive characteristic of science implies
that all science has a philosophical base!
This course of reasoning is closely linked to the argument which follows: The
answer which a special scientist gives to the question: what is science? can
never be a special-scientific answer, since every such a description discusses
the special science and thus transcends its limits. A description such as: math-
ematics consists of subsidiary disciplines such as set theory, algebra, topol-
ogy and the like, is no mathematical statement since the description is not in
the least an axiom/proposition/proof/argument in set theory, algebra, topol-
ogy and the like! This course of reasoning is valid for every particular modally
perspectival science. Even theology does not escape this truth. While every
student of theology becomes acquainted through the study of this discipline of
the encyclopedia of theology (which is responsible for the identification and
delimitation of the subsidiary disciplines of theology), this discipline is never
itself classified as a subsidiary discipline of theology (next to e.g. the
bibliological, dogmatological and ecclesiological groups). In this way theol-
ogy admits that the question: what is theology? is not a theological question!
This situation is remarkable furthermore since, although no definition of any
special science can have a particular-scientific character, no such definition
can be given without accounting for the scientific content of the special sci-
14
ence! Even when it is argued that mathematicians, theologians, and the like
would be best equipped to answer questions such as: what is mathematics?
what is theology? and the like, this does not abolish the truth that the answer
which they give precedes their work in the special science they practice. The
measure is not who gives the definition, but: what is the nature of the defini-
tion! This state of affairs confirms the indissoluble coherence which exists be-
tween every special science and its philosophical foundational questions.
We could also describe this state of affairs as follows: there are basically two
kinds of science, (i) the kind of science which, when it discusses itself, tran-
scends its own limits, and (ii) the kind of science which, when it discusses it-
self and the general question of the nature of science, remains within its own
limits. The first option indicates a special science, and the second indicates
philosophy. In this sense philosophy is the science of sciences, which is en-
gaged inter alia with the philosophical foundational questions of the special
sciences.

Philosophical Foundational Questions in the Special Sciences


Philosophical presuppositions entail foundational questions such as: what is
the coherence and structure of the diverse aspects of reality which serve as
gateways for our experience of concrete phenomena? Does each of these as-
pects have a unique and irreducible own nature, or can all aspects be reduced
to/explained in terms of a few aspects (as suggested by the many philosophi-
cal and special scientific isms: rationalism, idealism, universalism, individual-
ism, irrationalism, realism, nominalism, physicalism, materialism, vitalism,
historicism, psychologism, aestheticism, moralism, pietism, and the like)?
Can facts and norms (or in the natural sciences, facts and laws) be divorced, or
are they irreducible correlates? What is freedom? Does causality and freedom
mutually exclude each other? What is the nature of being human (and is there
a fundamental difference between being human and being an animal)? What
is the relation between individual and society? In what does the creational di-
versity find its consummation and central focus, and what is its origin?
To illuminate the influence of some of these foundational philosophical prob-
lems in the natural sciences more closely we will critically analyse some ex-
amples of dominant (and sometimes conflicting) paradigms from the fields of
mathematics, physics, and biology. In all of them the inevitability of modal
distinctions will surface – thus underscoring our claim that modal abstraction
indeed constitutes the distinctive feature of scholarly scientific activities.

15
16
Paradigms in Mathematics,
Physics, and Biology:
Their Philosophical Roots

Chapter II

Foundational Philosophical problems in Mathematics

Introductory remarks
Let us start our reflections by considering one of the standard arguments
against the possibility of divergent standpoints in mathematics:
Are you sure 3 + 4 = 7?
This kind of question is more or less a standard argument used by secular hu-
manism in an attempt to defend the supposed neutrality of scholarly activities:
the statement 3 + 4 = 7 apparently concerns a fact which is true irrespective of
our being Christian, Jewish, atheistic or communistic.
Suppose now that I would object by saying: 3 + 4 = 5! One way to ‘convince’
me that I am wrong, would be to count some of your fingers. My response then
would be: your ‘finger counting’ operation indeed clarifies the initial state-
ment – it concerns numerical addition. However, I had something different –
but equally legitimate – in mind: geometrical addition. Just think about a per-
son starting from a specific point: He then walks 3 miles to the north and after-
wards 4 miles east. How far would that person be away from his point of de-
parture? 5 miles! Clearly we are now confronted by two different kinds of
facts: a numerical fact (3+4=7) and a geometrical fact (3+4=5) – adding dis-
tances is mathematically accounted for by the theory of vectors: a vector has
distance and direction – which actually means that we should have used a no-
17
tation to acknowledge this (for example by using pointed arrows above the
‘3’, ‘4’ and ‘5’ of the vector-sum).
The point of our two examples is that ‘facts’ are not simply ‘facts’ – they are
always structured or qualified. In our case they are qualified by the aspects of
number and space. Consequently, in order to distinguish between different
kinds of facts an awareness of the order-diversity of reality is presupposed.
But exactly at this point the views of mathematicians depart. Different schools
of thought in modern mathematics arose on the basis of alternative views with
respect to the nature of and the coherence between the aspects of number and
space. For example, intuitionistic mathematics constructed a whole new
mathematics introducing concepts and methods not found in classical mathe-
matics. Stegmüller strikingly remarks:
“The special character of intuitionistic mathematics is expressed in a series of
theorems that contradict the classical results. For instance, while in classical
mathematics only a small part of the real functions are uniformly continuous,
in intuitionistic mathematics the principle holds that any function that is defin-
able at all is uniformly continuous” (1969:331).
From the seemingly ‘innocent’ and ‘neutral’ statement of ‘fact’ (3+4=7) we
are not only immediately entangled in foundational questions of mathematics
as a special science but also confronted with a serious challenge regarding the
supposed ‘exact’ nature of mathematics as an academic discipline!
A number of years ago a well-known mathematician, Morris Kline, wrote a
whole book dealing with the way in which the classical ideal of mathematics
as an exact science with certainty as its guiding star was undermined. He re-
marks:
“The developments in the foundations of mathematics since 1900 are bewil-
dering, and the present state of mathematics is anomalous and deplorable. The
light of truth no longer illuminates the road to follow. In place of the unique,
universally admired and universally accepted body of mathematics whose
proofs, though sometimes requiring emendation, were regarded as the acme of
sound reasoning, we now have conflicting approaches to mathematics. Be-
yond the logicist, intuitionist, and formalist bases, the approach through set
theory alone gives many options. Some divergent and even conflicting posi-
tions are possible even within the other schools. Thus the constructivist move-
ment within the intuitionist philosophy has many splinter groups. Within for-
malism there are choices to be made about what principles of metama-
thematics may be employed. Non-standard analysis, though not a doctrine of
any one school, permits an alternative approach to analysis which may also
lead to conflicting views. At the very least what was considered to be illogical
and to be banished is now accepted by some schools as logically sound”
(1980:275-276)
It is indeed strange that the history of mathematics explored the dual
one-sidedness of an arithmeticistic (founded by Greek mathematicians and
again enthroned during the past hundred years) and a geometricistic approach
(dominant during the intermediate period) and never ventured to explore the
following obvious third possibility: acknowledge both the uniqueness and the
mutual coherence of number and space as aspects of the richly varied
creational order-diversity.
18
We now proceed with a sketch of major historic and systematic analyses in or-
der to elucidate the complex interrelations between number and space.
First we mention some modern definitions of the nature of mathematics. From
these definitions we deduce the importance of the notion of infinity for an as-
sessment of the nature of mathematics – supported by our historical overview.
This overview, then, is followed by a brief assessment of some prominent is-
sues, and we close our discussion by a succinct treatment of an alternative sys-
tematic perspective.
Definitions of mathematics
Though it may seem natural to relate mathematics as a special science to the
aspects of number and space in the first place, the way in which most modern
mathematicians define their subject matter does not explicitly refer to these
aspects. Logicism, for instance Russell, wants to stress that mathematics is not
concerned with quantity, but with order. Already W. Hamilton defined alge-
bra – in a work from the year 1833 – as the “science of pure time or order in
progression” (quoted in Cassirer, 1957:85). Cassirer himself continues this
line of thought, actually dating back to Leibniz, in his own way. Smart points
out that according to Cassirer the main purpose of the critical study of the his-
tory of mathematics “is to illustrate and confirm the special thesis that ordinal
number is logically prior to cardinal number, and, more generally, that mathe-
matics may be defined, in Leibnizian fashion, as the science of order”
(1958:245).
Works on the foundations of set theory and dealing with the philosophy of
mathematics often refer to mathematics as “the science of formal systems”. To
those who are inclined to an axiomatic approach this statement means the
same as “mathematics is set theory” (cf. Meschkowski, 1972:356).
In spite of its recent origin as a mathematical discipline, set theory has from
the very start been confronted with basic trends running through the history of
mathematics. We only have to refer to the tension of uncompleted infinitude
and completed infinitude – a contrast which has been familiar since Greek phi-
losophy in terms of the opposition between the potential infinite and the ac-
tual infinite. The uncompleted infinite is used to indicate the conception that
the infinite is literally in-finite, i.e. without an end. The completed infinite,
again, is seen as a quantity which is determined in all its parts while it simulta-
neously exceeds every finite quantity.
As founder of set theory, Cantor was convinced “that Set Theory deals with
the actual infinite” (Robinson, 1967:39). By using the completed infinite Can-
tor, in 1874, proved that the set of all real numbers cannot be enumerated in
the manner of the set of all natural numbers, i.e. that real numbers are
non-denumerable (we will return to this matter). But exactly in this proof,
which uses the completed infinite, H. Meschkowski (1972b:25) sees the
“foundation of set theory”.1
1 Although one could consider this statement also in view of developments in the field of cate-
gory-theory and topos-theory, this falls beyond our current concerns.

19
Whoever therefore defines mathematics as set theory has thereby already
placed the problematic relationship between uncompleted infinity and com-
pleted infinity at the centre of the definition. In modern mathematics there are
special scientific points of view which diverge exactly in terms of the infinite:
some in the direction of the uncompleted infinite and other in the direction of
the completed infinite. Hermann Weyl (1966:89) comments strikingly in this
regard: “If in conclusion one would want to provide a brief slogan which
would indicate the living centre of mathematics, one would be able to say: it is
the science of the infinite”. In view of what we have already considered, we
would however immediately have to add the words of perhaps the greatest
mathematician of the 20th century: “The infinite has moved the human mind
like no other question since the earliest times; the infinite has brought about
mental stimulus and fruitfulness like virtually no other idea; the infinite how-
ever needs clarification like no other concept” (Hilbert, 1925:163). Clearly,
no account of mathematics can escape from assessing the nature of the infi-
nite.
However, the question of how we gain insight into the nature of the infinite
appeals to the foundational question regarding the unique domain of investi-
gation of mathematics. It is clear that it is insufficient to delimit mathematics
as a discipline in terms of “formal systems”, if only because other disciplines
use extensive abstractions without being mathematics (e.g. philosophy). A
prominent mathematician such as Gottlob Frege even questioned the notion
that the concept of abstraction is of use in the determination of the nature of
mathematics. When, for instance, we begin with the moon as an entity, we ar-
rive through abstraction only at concepts such as “companion of a planet”,
“celestial body without its own light”, “celestial body”, “body” and “object” –
nowhere in this row does the number 1 appear (Frege, 1884:44)!
Frege is of course reacting against the view that number should be seen as a set
of units [pure ones] which we gain out of our experience of concrete things via
abstraction. Angelelli is even of the opinion that Frege's critique in this regard
is devastating: “by abstracting from the particular differences and natures of
the given objects no plurality can be attained, but only one thing (the concept
cat, for example)” (1984:467). In a comment on Cantor's definition of a subset
(cf. Cantor, 1962:283), Zermelo also refers to the effort to introduce the con-
cept cardinal number by means of a process of abstraction, which would im-
ply that a cardinal number should be seen as a set of “pure ones”.1
Immanuel Kant already perceived that a purely logical synthesis could never
provide a new number (Kritik der reinen Vernunft, 1787:15). In a different
way Frege emphasizes the same point: concrete (or: entity-directed) abstrac-
tion can only continue and arrive at ever more general entity concepts – it can
never arrive at number as such. The fundamental question, however, is: is it
possible to distinguish different characteristics/properties of one and the
same entity? In terms of Frege's example of the moon we can be more spe-
cific: does the moon have any numerical features? This new perspective con-
1 An “aus lauter Einsen zusammengesetzte Menge” (a “set constituted by pure one's”) – cf.
Zermelo's first comment in Cantor, 1962:351.

20
cerns the question of how many moons the earth has – and obviously the an-
swer in terms of current knowledge can only be: one. This introduces us to a
distinct kind of abstraction which differs fundamentally from concrete (en-
tity-directed) abstraction as this emerges in our everyday concepts (such as
human, tree, horse, and the like), namely ‘characteristic-abstraction’. An-
other way of indicating this possibility, is to indicate it as modal abstraction,
which should actually be seen as the distinctive characteristic of scientific
thought. We shall pursue this further later when we give systematic attention
to the relation between the two fundamental kinds of infinity which have al-
ways confronted mathematics.
By first drawing out a few historical threads we can attempt to gain some ini-
tial illumination on infinity and the critical turning points in the development
of mathematics. We must at the same time keep in mind that all Western
thought on infinity and continuity has been decisively influenced by Aristotle
– that is, until Cantor fundamentally questioned it.1

The Infinite in Greek Thought


In the Milesian philosophy of nature we find a philosophically expressed an-
swer to their deepest search for the Arche (origin, beginning) of all temporal
things. Anaximander was the first to choose the infinite (unlimited) as Arche:
“the Arche of the existing things is the apeiron (the infinite-unlimited)”
(Diels-Kranz, 1959-69:B Fragments 1).2 He adds to this that the “apeiron is
ageless” (Fr.2) and “the apeiron is without death and transience” (Fr.3).
Where the divine Arche has previously always been identified with fluid ele-
ments (e.g. water by Thales, air by Anaximines and fire by Heraclitus), we
find Anaximander (remarkably!) seeing the Arche as something ageless,
deathless, and intransient – i.e. something standing in opposition to all fluid-
ity! It is probable that Anaximander was on the track of an essential element
and characteristic of the infinite – but we will return to this when we mention
Cantor's description of the completed infinite.
We encounter the bipolar nature of the infinite strikingly in Zeno's arguments
against motion. Aristotle mentions Zeno's four arguments in his Physika (cf.
233 a 13ff. and 239 b 5ff.). We will refer to only two particularly illustrative
arguments, namely that of Achilles who can never catch up with the tortoise
(since the tortoise has always again established a lead by the time Achilles has
caught up with him), and the argument that it is impossible to move from point
A to point B. In order to do so, after all, it is first necessary to complete half the
1 “Die entscheidende Erkenntnis des Aristoteles war, dass Unendlichkeit wie Kontinuität nur
in der Potenz existieren, also keine eigentliche Aktualität besitzen und daher stets
unvollendet bleiben. Bis auf Georg Cantor, der in der 2.Hälfte des 19.Jahrhunderts dieser
These mit seiner Mengenlehre entgegentrat, in der aktual unendliche Mannigfalgtigkeiten
betrachtete, ist die aristotelische Grundkonzeption von Unendlichkeit und Kontinuität das
niemals angefochtene Gemeingut aller Mathematiker (wenn auch nicht aller Philosophen)
geblieben” (Becker, 1964:69).
2 Subsequently we refer to Diels-Kranz's B Fragments with the abbreviation Fr. (=Fragment).

21
distance, thereafter half of the remaining distance, and thereafter half again of
the remaining distance – ad infinitum (cf. Dielz-Kranz, 1959-60 B Fr.3). Zeno
concludes: an infinite number of spatial sub-intervals must be crossed to move
from A to B and this is impossible in a finite period of time. It is after all im-
possible to actually exhaust the infinite. Therefore motion is impossible. This
is an instance of the contradiction between the uncompleted infinite and the
completed infinite. We must therefore differ from Titze's statement that the
“numerically-infinite was inconceivable in Greek philosophy” (1984:141).
Anaxagoras without doubt already had a conception of the poten-
tially-infinite, while we obviously find an initial conception of the infinite
divisibility of a continuum in Zeno's thought (cf. his B Fr.3 – explained be-
low).
Since Aristotle provided the classical formulation of the notion that a whole is
more than its parts (in his Politeia:1253a19-20), this idea has exerted an inex-
tinguishable influence in the history of philosophy and the various special sci-
ences – in modern times often defended in the form of the statement that a
whole is different from the sum of its parts. It would however appear as if we
need to return to Zeno for the first insight into the divisibility of a spatial con-
tinuum.
Zeno is best known in the literature for his four arguments against multiplicity
and motion as this is rendered in Aristotle's Physics (cf. 233a13ff. and
239b5ff.).1 The peculiar sense of his third Fragment lies exactly therein that it
explicitly explores both sides of the whole-part relation – apparently for the
first time in the history of philosophy (and mathematics).
Let us note his formulation:
When multiplicity exists, then necessarily only as many (things) exist as what
are actually there, no more and no less. When there however are as many as
what exist, then it (the number thereof) must be limited.
In this first half Zeno therefore argues from multiplicity to limitation. Exactly
the opposite happens in the last half:
When multiplicity exists, then that which exists (the number thereof) is unlim-
ited. Because continually other ones exist in between those which exist and
again others between these. Thus that which is (the number thereof) is unlim-
ited.
Although both main parts of this Fragment begin with “when multiplicity ex-
ists”, Zeno reaches opposite conclusions in them – in the first instance the ini-
tial comment implies that the number of existing things are limited, and in the
second instance that it is unlimited. The static spatial terms which Parmenides
and his school uses suggest the possibility that Zeno is indeed exploring the
two sides of the spatial whole-part relation (we shall return to the nature of the
whole-part relation in a later context).
1 It is true that we have of Zeno himself only the following striking formulation in his fourth
and last transmitted Fragment: “That which moves, moves neither in the space it occupies,
nor in the space it does not occupy”.

22
If multiplicity in the initial comment indicates a multiplicity of parts (of the
world) then their sum total must be limited (simultaneously constituting the
world-whole). If, alternatively, one starts with the world-whole in terms of
which to account for the parts, then it would indeed be possible to localize the
multiplicity of parts in such a way that there would always be further parts
present in between – an argument which of course could be continued infi-
nitely with regard to all parts.1
The discovery of the whole-part relation was therefore indissolubly linked to
the development of a notion of infinity in Greek philosophy, since it is con-
cerned with the infinite divisibility of the (world-) whole. To trace the steps of
the notion of infinity further we would however have to return to the Pythago-
reans. One of the foundational characteristics of the earliest Pythagorean
school was the arithmeticist statement: “everything is number” (cf. Thesleff,
1970:82).
The apparent possibility to arithmetize musical consonants lead to the general
theorem: if any two things in their relation to each other appear as two num-
bers, then they themselves actually are covert numbers (cf. Scholz and Hasse,
1928:6).
The interest of the Pythagoreans in the form of figures (including
form-congruence/uni-form-ity) apparently
stimulated the proof of Pythagoras’ familiar
theorem, namely that in any rectangular trian-
gle the square of the diagonal side equals the
sum of the squares of the two rectangular sides.
In Babylonian texts the following figure ap-
pears which already suggests the theorem of
Pythagoras. According to Euclides’ Elements
the original arithmetical proof of the theorem
of Pythagoras is founded in the congruence of
figures:
Hippasus of Metapont (450 BC) probably al-
ready discovered that this proof is not gener-
ally valid since it proceeds from the presuppo-
sition that the ratios of all line stretches stand in relation to one another as inte-
gers – i.e., can be represented in the form a/b where a and b are normal natural
whole numbers. The pentagram2 convinced Hippasus of the falsity of this pre-
supposition.

Consider the following pentagram: If a1 and a0 have a common length, a1


could be precisely (without remainder) divided into a0. If this division yields
an infinitely continued fraction, this would mean that the two line-stretches
1 Herman Fränkel even explicitly uses the whole-part relation when he analyzes Zeno's Frag-
ment 3. Cf. Fränkel 1968, pp.425ff., especially p.430.
2 That is a regular pentagon. The Pythagoreans used a regular pentagon of which the sides
where extended to the points of intersection (cf. Moritz Cantor, 1922:178).

23
are incommensurable due to the absence of a
common logos or ratio – which necessarily a b
yields the discovery of irrational numbers. f
From the adjacent figure follows: d e
ao = a1 + a2 c
Therefore: ao/a1 = 1+ a2/a1
and: a1 = =a2 + a3 a1
implying: a1/a2 = 1 + a3/a2
Similarly a2/a3 = 1/a1/a2 and: a0
a3/a2 = 1/a2/a3 etc. a1
From the preceding it follows:
1 + 1 a2
1 + 1 a1
1 + 1
a2
which confirms the existence of irrational numbers a3

The simplest example of an irrational number is the oblique side of a rectangu-


lar triangle where both the rectangular sides measure 1.
Apparently a proof of the fact that the square root of the number 2 is irrational
was already known to Pythagoras. In his dialogue Theaitetos (147d) Plato
mentions that the Pythagorean Theodoros had proven further irrationalities.1
The nature of irrational numbers, which cannot be indicated in terms of the re-
lation (ratio, logos) between two whole numbers (integers), was the core of
the crisis in Pythagorean mathematics. Only when Greek mathematics is un-
derstood in terms of the deepest motive active at the root of all Greek thought,
does it become clear why this discovery was experienced as so central a crisis.
The formative and delimiting function of number was however undermined
by the mentioned discovery of irrational numbers (incommensurability – cf.
Von Fritz, 1945:242-264), since it appeared that the formatively-delimited
oblique side, e.g. of a rectangular triangle with two rectangular sides with a
length of 1, in itself (from an arithmetical perspective) contained an infinite
(unlimited) sequence. In other words, in this case the apeiron abrogated the
delimiting function of the peras! To avoid this consequence all algebraic
problems2 were translated into spatial terms – hence the geometricization of
mathematics.3 The foundational motive of Greek thought, namely the motive
of the limited and unlimited (transient and intransient, or, in Aristotelian

1 “Our friend Theodoros was proving to us something about square roots, namely that the sides
(or roots) of squares representing 3 square feet and 5 square feet are not commensurable in
length with the line representing 1 foot; and he continued thus, taking each case in turn up to
the root of 17 square feet.”
2 Of course the Greeks did not yet know any algebra.
3 Cf. Boyer, 1956:8ff.

24
terms: the motive of form and matter), therefore integrally determined the en-
tire direction of Greek mathematics!1
The discovery of irrational numbers constitutes the first foundational crisis of
mathematics. To overcome this crisis Eudoxos devised a method which ap-
proached the modern differential and integral calculus, but due to an exces-
sive adherence to the spatial perspective the most important discovery had to
wait until the 17th century A.D.2
Apart from the contribution of Zeno's B Fragment 3 to our understanding of
the nature of the spatial whole-parts relationship, we find statements in
Anaxagoras regarding the nature of spatial continuity which are still actual to-
day. He says:
In that which is small there is no smallest, since there always exists something
smaller. That which is can never cease to exist through further division, no
matter how far we continue this division (B Fr.3). And since no smallest can
exist, it also cannot insulate or contain itself, but must, as in the beginning, ex-
ist with everything else (B Fr.6).
This simultaneous existence suggests the coherence of spatial continuity
which includes all (material) things – a continuity which is not, however, the
co-ordination of discrete (separated) parts, as if separated with an axe (B
Fr.9).
With these characterizations Anaxagoras reaches forward not only to the view
of Aristotle, but even to the position of intuitionist mathematicians in the 20th
century (namely Brouwer and Weyl).3 In Anaxagoras’ course of thought it is
clear that the infinite should not be understood only externally as spatial ex-
tension without limits, but also internally (i.e. inwardly) as infinitely divisible
spatial extension.
One of the categories which Aristotle distinguishes is quantity. As higher ge-
nus proximum quantity encompasses both number and space as differentia
specifica. That is, when one relinquishes the specific differentiating (distinc-
tive) characteristics of number and space, both belong under the higher con-
cept of kind: quantity.
“Quantity is either discrete, or continuous” (Categoriae, 4 b 20). “Number, ...
is a discrete quantity” (Cat., 4 b 31). The parts of a discrete quantity have no
common limit, while it is possible in the case of a line (as a continuous quan-
tity) to find a common limit to its parts time and again (Cat., 4b 25ff., 5 a 1ff.).
1 P.A. Meijer is of the opinion that the most appropriate indication of the Greek foundational
motive is to be found in the Greek hankering after the intransient (cf. 1968:207, and note 15
on p.206). Bram Bos reconsiders form and matter to signify the foundational motive
(Dooyeweerd) by using the alternative designation of the “titanic meaning perspective”
(1986). The tension between becoming (e.g. of the seasons) and the underlying quest for con-
stancy however remains central to this motive. Compare Bos 1994:220.
2 We shall return to this second foundational crisis in the history of mathematics shortly.
3 H. Weyl points out the significance of Greek thought: “Yes, exactly now we are being
brought everywhere to return directly to the Greeks in the foundations of mathematics”
(1931:1).

25
With Zeno Aristotle denies the possibility of the actually infinite (completed
infinite). He believes that his particular view of the potentially infinite (the un-
completed infinity) overcomes the problems of Zeno. While a particular
line-stretch is infinitely divisible, this divisibility is only a potentiality, a pos-
sibility, which can never actually (in reality) be carried through. When some-
thing moves it does not, according to Aristotle, move in a counting manner,
since then Zeno's antinomy (that in the covering of a limited spatial distance
an actually infinite sequence of numbers would simultaneously have to be
“counted through”) would be valid. Aristotle confronts Zeno's problem with
the following argument:
“In the act of dividing a continuous distance into two halves, one point is used
twice, since we make it the starting-point and the end-point: ... But if such divi-
sions are made, neither the distance, nor the motion would be continuous: ...
and although that which is continuous contains an infinite number of halves,
these are not actual but only potential halves” (Physica, 263 a 23ff.).
Aristotle rejects the existence of the actually infinite on two grounds (cf.
Physica, 204 a 20ff., Metaphysica, 1066 b 11ff., and Metaphysica, 1084 a
1ff.):
(i) if the actually infinite consists of parts then these parts must themselves
be actually infinite, which would imply the absurdity that the whole is no
longer larger than a part; and
(ii) If it consists of finite parts, this would imply the impossibility that the in-
finite can be counted, or there would have to be transfinite (cardinal)
numbers which are neither even nor uneven.
It is understandable, therefore, that the formative deity of Aristotle (the nous
as thought of thought – Metaphysica, 1074 b 34-35) is finite. According to Ar-
istotle, only that which is limited can be known (conceived), and he conse-
quently does not hesitate to conclude from the unlimited nature of matter that
matter as such cannot be known (Metaphysica, 1036 a 8-9).
A few further contours from the history of the infinite
Under Aristotle's influence Origines taught in the 3d century A.D. that God
could not be infinite, since if he is infinite (unlimited) no limits exist and he
would not be able to delimit or conceive himself – which would imply that
God could not know himself!
With Plotinus, however, we find a return of appreciation for the infinite since
he characterizes both the One (out of which everything arises) and the con-
trasting matter as infinite (cf. Enneads II,4,4; II,4,10; II,4,15; VI,7,32), al-
though the term infinite is used in a dialectically opposed manner with regard
to the One and matter: (formless) matter receives form (as a permanent sub-
stratum) – the (formless) One gives form (cf. En. VI,7,17). This re-appre-
ciation is related to Plotinus’ view of infinity as the timeless present (cf. the
whole En.III,7), which simultaneously exerted a considerable influence on
the conceptions regarding infinity of Boethius, Augustine (Confessiones
XI,11,13; De Trinitate XII,14), Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theologica I,10)
and Schilder (1948:61).
26
Augustine went further than Plotinus and stated explicitly that our inability to
understand the infinite should not be used as a measure for God, since God in
his omniscience understood every infinity – also the completed infinite set of
all numbers – without any passage of thought, at once, without before and af-
ter. Therefore God can also know his own completed infinite being.1 Creation,
however, is finite. At the end of the middle ages and the beginning of the mod-
ern era Cusanus changed this view with his doctrine that God is actually infi-
nite while reality is only endless. Linked to his conviction that the infinite line
is simultaneously a triangle, circle and sphere (De Docta Ignorantia, I,13-17)
Cusanus taught that of God, as the actually infinite, one could in a certain
sense say everything and nothing at all (he is e.g. the biggest and the smallest –
De Docta Ignorantia, I,5) since all contradictions are resolved in him
(coincidentia oppositorum) (De Docta Ignorantia, I,22; De Coniecturis II,1
and II,2).2
Descartes turns the classical view on its head with his view that the infinite is
complete and the finite incomplete, so that the finite should actually be re-
ferred to as the non-infinite. Since Spinoza identified God with nature (Deus
sive natura), he also saw the universe as completed infinite.
Galileo discussed the remarkable relation between square numbers and the se-
quence of all numbers in dialogue form in March 1638: All numbers are not
square numbers (like 1, 4, 9, 16, 25... ). The combination of all numbers, i.e.
square and non-square numbers, are certainly more than the square numbers
on their own. From 0-100 there are only ten squares (100 = 102). That means
only one tenth are squares; from 0-10000 there are only 100 squares, i.e.
100/10000 = one hundredth; from 0-1000000 there are only a 1000 squares,
i.e. one thousandth, and so forth. If we however ask how many square num-
bers exist, we can answer: as many as there are square roots, since every
square has a root and every root has a square. Then, however, there are as
many squares as the combination of all numbers!
12 22 32 42..........
1 2 3 4...........
Bernard Bolzano built on this in a posthumously published work by consider-
ing an infinite set characterized by the fact that the whole set can be matched
element by element (in the case of Galileo's example: 1 with 12, 2 with 22, 3
with 32, and so forth) with a true subset (the set of squares is a subset of the set
of natural numbers) (Bolzano, 1920, par.20:27ff.). In the case of an infinite set
the whole is therefore equal (correctly stated: equivalent) to a part – this in op-
position to Aristotle's mentioned conviction that the whole is always greater
than a part (cf. in this regard Strauss, 1987)!
Before we continue with Cantor, we return for a moment to the historical rela-
tion between irrational numbers and the infinite (among the Greeks this rela-
tion led to the geometrization of mathematics). In 1790 S. Maimon argues that
1 Cf. Augustine: De civitate Dei, Book XII, Chapter 19; and cf. Heimsoeth, H. (n.d.:68).
2 According to K. Kremer Plotinus and Proclus actually already taught that all contradictions
are resolved in God (1966:354).

27
an essential difference exists between a so-called irrational number and the
approximating sequence of rational numbers employed to expresses it.1 In an
effort to handle the problem of infinity, Maimon distinguishes between the
limited human mind2 and the absolute unlimited mind: “an infinite number
cannot appear otherwise to us (since our perception is bound to the form of
time) than as an infinite succession in time (which consequently cannot be
thought of as completed). In the case of an absolute mind, on the other hand,
the concept of an infinite number, without any passage of time, can be thought
of at once. Thus that which the mind in its limited form considers as a mere
idea, is in terms of its absolute existence a real object” (Maimon, 1790:228).
Infinitesimals and the second foundational crisis of mathematics
Newton discovered his first “calculus” in 1665-1666. It is also historically de-
termined that Leibniz between the years 1673-1676 made the same discovery
independently of Newton.3 Yet he only published his discovery in 1684 and
1686.
This “calculus” was known as infinitesimal analysis and was subdivided into
differential calculus and integral calculus. In differential calculus it is possi-
ble, for instance, to determine the inclination of a given curve at any point (the
inclination is trigonometrically indicated by means of the tangent). Integral
calculus, which was practically developed as the inverse of differential calcu-
lus, enables the mathematician to determine surfaces and volumes of figures
(partially) delimited by curves.
The spatial representation of the inclination of a curve at a particular point is
only the correlate of problems with bodies in motion, which was the actual
starting-point of Newton's discovery. Suppose the equation y = x2 indicates
the prescription for the motion of a body (where x is the time in seconds
needed to move y feet). The problem is to determine the speed of the body at a
given moment. An analysis of this problem gives the following result: after 1
second the body moves 2 feet per second, after 2 seconds 4 feet per second, af-
ter 3 seconds 6 feet per second, and so forth. Thus an equation providing the
speed at any given moment (y' = 2x, with y' referred to as the derivative) is de-
rived from the original equation.
E.T. Bell comments: “Newton's first calculus, of 1665-6, seems to have been
abstracted from intuitive ideas of motion. A curve was imagined as traced by
the motion of a ‘flowing’ point. The ‘infinitely short’ path traced by the point
in an ‘infinitely short’ time was called the ‘momentum’ and this momentum
1 The irrational number “square root of 2” ( 2) e.g. is approximated by the sequence of rational
numbers: 1, 1.4, 1.41, 1.414....
2 According to the Kantian conception it is bound to time – as a so-called a priori form of intu-
ition.
3 Hawking points out that although it is clear that both discovered this subsection of mathemat-
ics independently, a furious argument nonetheless broke out over who discovered it first.
Newton made the discovery before Leibniz but published it later. Most of the articles defend-
ing Newton's position were however written by Newton himself and published under the
names of his friends (1987:182)!

28
divided by the infinitely short time was the ‘fluxion’” (Bell, 1945:151). This
“fluxion” of Newton is nothing other than the speed at a given moment in our
example above.
The development of differential and integral calculus paid virtually no atten-
tion to its foundations, until it became clear at the beginning of the 19th cen-
tury that the use of the infinitesimal (the infinitely small) causes a great many
problems. Slowly but surely this brought about an arithmetically founded
consideration of limits.
In 1770 A.G. Kästner described a limit as follows: “A magnitude approxi-
mates a value infinitely, when the difference between the approximating and
approximated value is less than any specifiable magnitude. This value is then
referred to as the limit”.1
Even Cauchy (1789-1857) still characterizes the derivative of a given moving
point as the “derniére raison des différences infiniment pitites Dy et Dx” (as
the “extreme ratio of the difference between the infinitely small Dy and Dx”).
Cauchy also uses an unwarranted transition from the ratio of infinitesimally
small numbers to the ratio of normal numbers which are sufficiently small. Al-
though Cauchy still considers Dx and Dy as the variables (i.e. magnitudes
which take on successively changing values), he nonetheless provides a rela-
tively clear definition of a limit in his Textbook of Analysis (1821): “When
the successive values assigned to a variable indefinitely approaches a fixed
value to the extent that it eventually differs from it with as little as one wishes,
then this last (fixed value) can be characterized as the limit of all the others”.2
Consider for instance the sequence 1/n with the number 0 as limit when n in-
creases indefinitely through the sequence of natural numbers 1, 2, 3, .... The
sequence 1/n then furnishes 1/1, ½, 1/3, 1/4,.... By merely choosing a suffi-
ciently large n it is therefore possible to bring the value of 1/n as close to the
limit-value 0 as one wishes.
Despite the firmer foundation which Cauchy provided for analysis, he still did
not provide a sufficient foundation for the introduction of real numbers, and
exactly real numbers are vital for the firm development of analysis. Cauchy
believed that irrational numbers can be defined as the limits of converging se-
quences of rational numbers. Consider for instance the following interesting
sequence of fractions (probably already known to the Greeks):
1 , 3 , 7 , 17 , 41 , 99 , 239 , 577 , 1393 ,
××××
1 2 5 12 29 70 169 408 985
1 “Eine Grösse nähert sich einem Werte unendlich, wenn ihr Unterschied von diesem Werte
kleiner als jede Grösse werden kann, die sich angeben lässt. Der Wert heisst alsdann ihre
Grenze” (1770:1). D'Alembert in particular exercised sharp criticism of the notion of infi-
nitely small magnitudes (quantités infiniment petites) and brought to the attention of Euro-
pean mathematics the limit concept as the central concept of analysis (cf. Robinson,
1966:268-269).
2 “Lorsque les valuers successivement attribuées à une même variable s'approchent
indéfiniment d'une valuer fixe, de manière à finir par en différer aussi peu que l'on voudra,
cette dernière est appelée la limite de toutes autres” – quoted by Robinson, 1966:269.

29
The sequence is calculated as follows: the denominator (under the line) of ev-
ery subsequent fraction equals the sum of the numerator (above the line) and
denominator of the previous fraction, while the numerator of every subse-
quent fraction equals the sum of its own denominator and that of the previous
fraction. The sum of the numerator and denominator of 1/1 equals 2 – the de-
nominator of the second fraction – while the sum of the first two denominators
(i.e. 1+2) equals 3 – the numerator of the second fraction. In the same way the
denominator of the third fraction equals the sum of the numerator and denom-
inator of the second fraction (i.e. 2+3=5) and the numerator of the third frac-
tion equals the sum of the denominators of the second and third fractions (i.e.
5+2=7). This sequence of fractions approaches 2 alternately from both sides,
namely:
1 7 41 239 1393 577 99 17 3
< < < < < ×× < 2 < ×× < < < <
1 5 29 169 985 408 70 12 2
To the left and right of 2 we find two sequences of rational numbers which
both approximate 2 as their limit. Since a limit is itself defined as a number
(!) approximated by the terms of a sequence in such a manner that the differ-
ence between the terms of the sequence and the limit-value can be made arbi-
trarily small (i.e. smaller than an arbitrary rational number Î > 0, as it was later
formulated), it is clear that the numerical character of 2 cannot be defined by
means of the limit concept, since the limit concept presupposes that whatever
functions as limit must already be a number. Even Cauchy was still of the
opinion that irrational numbers must be considered as the limits of converging
sequences of rational numbers. He is therefore caught in the same circular ar-
gument since the presence of an irrational limit presupposes its existence as a
number, which means that the numerical nature of irrational numbers cannot
be defined in terms of limits.
In 1883 G. Cantor expressly rejected this circle in the definition of irrational
real numbers (1962:187). The eventual description of a limit still found in
textbooks today was only given in 1872 by E. Heine, who was a student of K.
Weierstrass with G. Cantor (cf. Heine, 1872:178,182). In 1887 Cantor, how-
ever, pointed out that the core of the ideas in Heine's article were borrowed
from him (1962:385). Furthermore Cantor himself wrote an article on trigo-
nometric series in 1872 (Mathematische Annalen, Volume 5) in which he
gave an equivalent description of a limit with reference to convergent se-
quences of rational numbers (1962: 93). A few pages later he also describes a
limit-point of an infinite set of points (i.e. a point each environment of which
contains an infinite number of points of the original set) (1962:98).1 At the
same time his description of the environment of a point provided an important
starting-point for modern topology.
Already in the approach of Weierstrass a new presupposition penetrated anal-
ysis, namely the presupposition that limits can be defined in terms of a static
1 In general a number l is called the limit of the sequence (xn), when for an arbitrary 0 < e a natu-
ral number no exists such that |xn – l| < e for all n ³ n0.

30
numerical domain encompassing all real numbers. Boyer refers to this as fol-
lows:
“In making the basis of the calculus more rigorously formal, Weierstrass also
attacked the appeal to intuition of continuous motion which is implied in
Cauchy's expression that a variable approaches a limit. Previous writers gen-
erally had defined a variable as a quantity or magnitude which is not constant;
but since the time of Weierstrass it has been recognized that the ideas of vari-
able and limit are not essentially phoronomic, but involve purely static consid-
erations. Weierstrass interpreted a variable x as simply a letter designating any
one of a collection of numerical values. A continuous variable was likewise
defined in terms of static considerations: If for any value x0 of the set and for
any sequence of positive numbers d1, d2, ..., dn’ however small, there are in the
intervals x0 – di, x0 + di others of the set, this is called continuous” (1959:286).
The use of the completed infinite in the mathematical approaches of
Weierstrass, Dedekind and Cantor did indeed succeed during the last three de-
cades of the 19th century in a brilliant way to give shape to the mathematical
handling of the completed infinite. With reference to Aristotle's Physica
208a6 Cantor (1962:396) distinguishes between a[peiron dunavmei and
a[peiron wJ" ajfwrismevnon: – the former is the potential (non-actually) infinite
and the latter is the actual infinite. Cantor describes the potentially infinite (in
our provisional notation: uncompleted infinity) as follows: “The potential in-
finite is preferably indicated where an indefinite variable of finite magnitude
occurs, which either increases beyond all finite limits ..., or decreases beyond
all finite bounds”. Under the
“actually infinite, though, is understood a quantum, which on the one hand
does not change, but which rather is set and determined in all its parts, a true
constant, but simultaneously on the other hand exceeds in magnitude every
similar finite magnitude”(1962:401).
The uncompleted infinite is linked to the nature of a variable and the com-
pleted infinite to the nature of a constant. Anaximander however already de-
scribed the infinite (apeiron) – which he considered to be the Arche – as
intransient (i.e. constant), and set this against all fluidity (i.e. transience)!
Cantor himself appeals inter alia to Augustine's view of the sequence of all
numbers as an actually infinite quantum (cf. his De civitate Dei, book 12,
chapter 19).
Augustine's explanation that God conceives the actually infinite sequence of
all numbers at once (without any process of thought or before and after), was
influenced by the view of Plotinus of eternity – linked to the timeless present.
This heritage we still find (via Cusanus) in the 18th century when Maimon
teaches that an “absolute mind” thinks the “concept of an infinite number at
once without any passage of time”.
Cantor and Weierstrass avoids the circle in Cauchy's definition of irrational
numbers through the use of the actual infinite. Weierstrass simply defines the
completed infinite set of numbers 1,1.4,1.414, ... as the “square root of two” ( 2).
Cantor also defines irrational numbers as completed infinite sets of rational
numbers.1 Cantor explicitly comments in this regard that a real number b can-
1 Cantor refers to these as “Fundamentalreihe” (1962:186ff.,410).

31
not be defined as the limit of the members of a fundamental sequence (an),
since this leads to the logical error of presupposing the existence of the limit
(1962:187). He adds to this “that the irrational number by means of the nature
which has per definition been ascribed to it possesses as much of a particular
reality in our mind as the rational and even the integers and that the irrational
numbers are not obtained only by means of a limit-process, since one is on the
contrary already convinced previously, due to their possession, of the practi-
cability and evidence of limit-processes in general” (1962:187).
Conversely Cantor defends his doctrine of transfinite numbers (developed on
the acceptance of completed infinity) by means of irrational numbers: “One
can say without more ado: the transfinite numbers stand or fall with the finite
irrational numbers; they concur with regard to their innermost being; since
both are particular delimited expressions or modifications of the actually infi-
nite” (1962:395-396). Paul Lorenzen describes this modern conception of real
numbers in terms of the completed infinite in a way which strikingly reflects
the age-old tradition on which it rests:
“and thus every real number as an infinite decimal fraction is already repre-
sented as if the infinite quantity of numbers all existed at once (auf einmal
existierten)” (1968:100).

Cantor and Aristotle


In the elaboration of his set theory Cantor takes critical distance from Aris-
totle's radical rejection of the use of the actually infinite, although he other-
wise essentially retains in his description of the continuum the two stipula-
tions which Aristotle posited for the nature of continuity.
(a) Aristotle's objections against the actual infinite
Aristotle's first objection, namely that the whole could not in the case of the
actually infinite exceed the part in magnitude, had already been used by
Bolzano (analogously to Galileo) exactly as criterion for infinite sets: a set is
infinite if and only if the whole set can be mapped one-to-one with a true sub-
set thereof. In this characterization lies the answer to the first part of Aris-
totle's second objection, the objection namely that it is impossible to count the
infinite. Cantor however only uses the characterization: denumerable. Any set
which can be correlated one-to-one with the natural numbers (0), 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,
... is denumerable. The true meaning of the indication “denumerable” how-
ever only became apparent when Cantor proved that there does indeed exist
non-denumerable transfinite numbers.1
When one relinquishes the nature and all relations of the elements of a set
(particularly also the ordering which might exist among the various elements),
then the power (or: cardinality) of different sets can be compared. Two sets M
and N are referred to by Cantor as equivalent when their elements can be
mapped one-to-one (“wenn sie sich gegenseitig eindeutig Element für Ele-
ment einander zuordnen lassen”) (1962:387). It can be indicated with the term
1 Cantor considers it meaningless to reject references to an infinite number and to speak only of
infinite sets – both are according to him indissolubly linked to each other (1962:394).

32
order that for every two elements of a set the first precedes the second, while
the second follows on the first. If A and B are two ordered sets, and if an or-
der-preserving relation exists among their elements, both have according to
Cantor the same order-type, while the sets are referred to as similar (ähnlich)
(1962:297). “A set is called well-ordered, if it meets the requirement that ev-
ery subset (Teilvielheit) has a first element”.1 In view of this Cantor defines an
ordinal number: “The order-type of a well-ordered set F we call its due ordinal
number” (1962:321). In view of the preceding we can state that the transfinite
ordinal number (w) must meet the following four conditions (strictly speaking
the last condition is equivalent to the second):
(i) It has a first element;
(ii) each element has an immediate successor;
(iii) each element except the first element has an immediate predecessor; and
(iv) no last element exists.
The remarkable characteristics of this transfinite ordinal number w (w indi-
cates the set of natural numbers in their natural order: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, ...), en-
ables Cantor to answer Aristotle's last objection (namely that actually infinite
numbers would have to be neither even nor uneven) (cf. Cantor, 1962:
178-179).
Within the system of natural numbers, which is closed under addition and
multiplication (i.e. adding and multiplying natural numbers in every instance
renders natural numbers), the commutative law is valid with regard to both
these operations. In other words, with regard to two natural numbers a and b,
a + b = b + a and ab = ba. This commutative law is not, however, generally
valid with regard to transfinite ordinal numbers. We can illustrate it as follows
(note however that Cantor in this example understands in the product ba that b
is the “multiplier” and a the “multiplicandus” – 1962:178):
Take the set A = (1,2) and B = (1, 2, 3, 4, ,5 6, ...) and consider the (lexico-
graphically) ordered product AB; i.e. {(1,1),(1,2),(1,3), ...,(2,1),(2,2),(2,3),
..}
or w + w = w.2 (i.e., w ¹ w.2)
The ordered product BA however gives us: {(1,1),(1,2),(2,1), (2,2),(3,1), ..}
This product clearly meets the four requirements, which implies that 2.w = w.
From the product AB we saw that w ¹ w.2:
The number w can therefore be represented as 2.w and also as 1 + 2.w – but
never the other way around, since w ¹ w.2 and w ¹ w.2 + 1.
The conclusion is clear: w is even (namely 2.w), as well as uneven (namely
1 + 2.w) and simultaneously w is neither even (namely ¹ w.2), nor uneven
(namely ¹ w.2 + 1 – cf. Cantor, 1962:178-179).
Compare this with the notion of Cusanus that God as the actually infinite is the
union of all opposites: the coincidentia oppositorum – he did after all recog-
nize something essential about the infinite!
1 This description is to be found in a letter to Dedekind (28 July 1899), contained in Cantor,
1962:444 (cf. also Cantor, 1962:312).

33
(b) Continuity in Aristotle and Cantor-Dedekind
Aristotle considers it impossible to explain the continuity of a straight line in
terms of the (infinite) number of its points. If “that which is infinite is consti-
tuted by points, these points must be either continuous or continuously in con-
tact with one another” (Physica, 231a29-31). Points are however indivisible
(a point has no parts), while “that which exists between two points is always a
line” (Physica, 231b8). According to Aristotle it is clear that “everything
which is continuous is divisible into divisible parts which can be divided infi-
nitely: since if it was divisible into indivisible parts, we would have the divisi-
ble and indivisible in contact since the limits of continuous things are one (i.e.
the same – DFMS)” (Physica, 231b15ff.).1
In the 19th century a new arithmeticistic tendency came to the fore in mathe-
matics which would appear to be intent on the arithmetical definition of spa-
tial continuity. Bernard Bolzano already illuminates this tendency in par.38 of
his (quoted) work on the paradoxes of the infinite. He mentions the objection
that a circle would appear to be hidden in the attempt to build extension out of
parts not themselves extended, but is of the opinion that the problem disap-
pears when it is realized that “each whole” exactly “has numerous properties
absent in the parts” (1920:72). The question however is whether the relation-
ship: whole-parts is originally arithmetical in nature?! (We will return to this
again.)
The criterion which Bolzano sets for a continuum is that “a continuum is pres-
ent there, but also only there where a set (Inbegriff) of simple objects (of
points ...) finds itself, which is situated in such a way that every single object
has at least an environment (Nachbar) (of points – DFMS) in this set for every
distance (Entfernung) however small” (1920:73).
Cantor criticizes Bolzano's criterion as insufficient, since a set constituted e.g.
by distinct continua (and therefore being as a whole discontinuous) would
still be continuous in terms of Bolzano's definition (the end points of each dis-
tinct continuum would after all still contain further points of the particular set
in an arbitrarily small environment – cf. Cantor, 1962:194).
Cantor declares that he has no other choice but to posit a “general purely arith-
metical concept of a point-continuum” with the help of the way in which he
defined real numbers (1962:192). A point-continuum he defines as a perfectly
coherent set. A set is perfect when every point of the set is a limit-point and
when all limit-points of the set belong to the set. He calls “T a coherent point
set, when for every two points t and t’ of this set, at a given arbitrarily small
number e there are always a finite number of points t1, t2, t3, ..., tn of T’ present
in multiple ways, so that the distances tt1, t1t2, ...tnt’ are all together smaller
than e” (1962:194).
1 Von Weizsäcker says that the domain in which figures are defined displays, when compared
with natural numbers, the property of continuity. In this context he calls upon Aristotle's view
of continuity: “Continuity is defined by Aristotle as that which could be divided endlessly in
similar parts. The parts of a continuum cannot be counted; but one can measure continua”
(1993:115).

34
Comment: Cantor's definition of coherence concerns a metrical charac-
teristic of the continuum. In modern topology, however, continuity is
described in terms of open sets (abstracted from the characteristics of a
metrical space – cf. Willard, 1970:16-19). P.S. Alexandroff defines the
continuum as a non-empty compactly coherent set (1956:163ff.,
201ff.). A set is compact if every infinite subset has at least one
limit-point. (A point x is a limit-point of a set A when every environ-
ment of x contains at least one point of A different from x). This im-
plies that a set in a Euclidean space is only compact if it is delimited. In
terms of Alexandroff's definition an infinite straight line is therefore
not continuous, while it is for Cantor (also cf. Meschkowski, 1967:55).
Dedekind follows the continuity of a straight line arithmetically by time and
again introducing new numbers:
“If now, as is our desire, we try to follow up arithmetically all phenomena in
the straight line, the domain of rational numbers is insufficient and it becomes
necessary that the instrument R constructed by the creation of rational num-
bers be essentially improved by the creation of new numbers (namely irratio-
nal numbers – DFMS) such that the domain of numbers shall gain the same
completeness, or as we may say at once, the same continuity, as the straight
line” (Dedekind, 1901:9)
On this foundation Dedekind describes his well-known cut notion which
characterizes continuity: when
“all real numbers break up into two classes U1, U2, such that every number a1
of the class U1 is less than every number a2 of the class U2 then there exists one
and only one number by which this separation is produced” (1901:20).
Dedekind's notion of a cut is dealt with in analysis textbooks in such a manner
that the real number which brings about the “split” is greater than or equal to
every element in the one set and smaller than or equal to all the elements of the
other set (cf. e.g. Bartle, 1964:51).
Cantor himself refers to the relation which exists between his view of a perfect
set and Dedekind's cut theorem (1962:194). G. Böhme strikingly shows in an
article how Cantor's definition of the continuum contains two stipulations
which both meet the Aristotelian definition of a continuum, namely coherence
and a characteristic which ensures the existence of dividing points for infinite
division (1966:309). By means of only allowing a Dedekind-cut at divisions,
Böhme justifies his statement as follows:
“when a Cantorian continuum as such is divided in two by means of the indica-
tion of a point so that the one set contains those points which are in numerical
value greater than or equal to the indicated point, while the other set contains
those points of which the numerical value are smaller than or equal to the nu-
merical value of the indicated point, both parts are again continuous. Such di-
visions are possible into infinity (due to the perfection of the continuum), and
the parts are still coherent in the Aristotelian sense (i.e. their limit-points are
the same)” (1966:309).
This is a remarkable situation: the Cantor-Dedekind description of the contin-
uum presupposes the use of the completed infinite (in particular by using the
35
completed infinite set of real numbers), but nonetheless meets Aristotle's two
requirements for a continuum – and this while Aristotle exactly rejects the
completed infinite and recognizes only uncompleted infinity! Did Aristotle
actually use the completed infinite implicitly, or is the Cantor-Dedekind defi-
nition in the last instance not purely arithmetically founded? We shall shortly
attempt to find an answer to this question.
Non-denumerability: Cantor's Diagonal Proof
A set is called (d)enumerable when its elements can be correlated one-to-one
with those of the set of natural numbers, i.e. any set the elements of which can
be arranged in a natural sequence of 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, ... It is clear that the inte-
gers are denumerable: 0, -1, +1, -2, +2, -3, +3, ... Since all rational numbers
can be depicted by two integers in the form of a/b (with b ¹ 0), it is clear that
they also can be denumerated. Notice the course of the arrows in the following
depiction:

1 1 1 1 .............
1 2 3 4

2 2 2 2 .............
1 2 3 4

3 3 3 3.............
1 2 3 4

4 4 4 4.............
1 2 3 4

...........................

Even all algebraic numbers are denumerable.1 In a letter of 29 November


1873 Dedekind mentions to Cantor that he had proven that all algebraic num-
bers are denumerable (cf. Meschkowski, 1972b:23). Dedekind does this by
defining the height h of an algebraic number x satisfying a polinomial equa-
tion anxn + an-1xn-1 + ...+ a1x + a0 = 0 as follows:

h = n – 1 + |a0| + |a1| + .......... + |an|

Since the coefficients an are integers, only a finite number of algebraic num-
bers belong to each height h. Since every finite quantity is denumerable, the
algebraic numbers as such are also denumerable (cf. Meschkowski,
1972b:24).
In 1874 however Cantor proved that the real numbers are not denumerable
(i.e. are non-denumerable). Only in 1890 does he provide his diagonal-proof,
which we use in our explanation below (cf. Cantor, 1962:278-281). A
one-to-one correspondence could be established between all real numbers and
the set of real numbers between 0 and 1. Furthermore, every real number in
1 Algebraic numbers are the roots of algebraic equations.

36
this interval can be represented as an infinite decimal fraction of the form xn =
0.a1a2a3a4 ... (numbers with two decimal representations, e.g. 0.100000... and
0.099999 ... are consistently represented in the form with nines). Suppose a
denumeration x1, x2, x3, ... exists of all the real numbers between 0 and 1, i.e. of
all the real numbers in the interval 0 £ xn £ 1 (i.e. [0,1]), namely:

x1 = 0.a1 a2 a3... ............


x2 = 0.b 1 b 2b3 ............
x3 = 0.c1 c2 c3 ...........
...................................

If another number can be found between 0 and 1 which differs from every xn,
it would mean that every denumeration of the real numbers would leave out at
least one real number, which would prove that the real numbers are
non-denumerable. Such a number we can construe as follows:

y = y1y2y3y4 ..., with y1 ¹ 0, a1 and 9; y2 ¹ 0, b2 and 9; y3 ¹ 0, c3


and 9; and so forth.

It is clear that y is a real number between 0 and 1 (i.e. 0 £ y £ 1). The number y
does not have two decimal representations since every decimal number in its
decimal development is unequal to 0 and 9. The number is also unequal to ev-
ery real number xn since the decimal development of y in the first decimal
place differs from the first decimal number x1, in the second differs from the
second decimal number of x2 (namely x2), and in general from the nth decimal
number of xn. It is clear from this that a denumeration of the real numbers will
always exclude at least one real number (“miscount” it in the denumeration),
which concludes Cantor's proof that real numbers are non-denumerable.
Comment
Although intuitionism accepts this proof as valid, it does so in a constructivist
sense.1 All constructivist interpretations are however inadequate to reach a
non-denumerable conclusion (cf. Wolff, 1971), simply because no construc-
tive transition is possible from the potential infinite to the actual infinite. Our
current discussion does not provide room for a broader indication that the ap-
proach of Brouwer (already in his 1907 dissertation) and Heyting indeed is
ambiguous with regard to the role of the actual infinite. The same can after all
be said of Poincaré – on the one hand he rejects the actual infinite (1910) and
on the other he attempts in the same article to provide an alternative proof for
the non-denumerability of real numbers – without realizing that non-de-
numerability can only be proven if the actually infinite is accepted.
There is a further remarkable side to this result. In his original proof of 1874
(1962:115-118) Cantor first proved that all real algebraic numbers are
1 Cf. Heyting (1971:40), Fraenkel et al (1973:256,272), and Fraenkel (1928:239 note 1).

37
denumerable. All real numbers, however, are non-denumerable, which proves
the existence of a non-denumerable number of non-algebraic (also called:
transcendent) numbers!1
The third foundational crisis in Mathematics
The first two foundational crises in mathematics were the result of the discov-
ery of irrational numbers and the founding of the so-called infinitesimal calcu-
lus.2 By 1895 Cantor discovered that his set theory contained anomalies. Can-
tor proved e.g. the proposition that for every set A of ordinal numbers an ordi-
nal number exists which is greater than every ordinal number contained in the
set. Consider however the set W of all ordinal numbers. Since this set is a set
of all ordinal numbers, the foregoing proposition implies that an ordinal num-
ber exists which is greater than every ordinal number contained in W – but this
is contradictory, since the set W is supposed already to contain all ordinal
numbers! A similar antinomy is valid with regard to Cantor's cardinal num-
bers (cf. Meschkowski, 1967:144-145 and Singh, 1985:73).
In 1900 Russell made public his antinomy which can be formulated in terms
of the ABC of set theory. Consider the set C with elements A and the prescrip-
tion that elements of set C may only be those sets A which do not contain
themselves as elements.
Thus C = (A/A ÏA). (The set of ten chairs is e.g. not itself a chair and does not
contain itself as an element. On the other hand the set of thinkable thoughts is
in itself thinkable and therefore does contain itself as an element.) Now sup-
pose that C is an element of C (C ÎC). Every element of C, however, does not
contain itself as an element – this, after all, is the requirement for being an ele-
ment of C. This implies that if C is an element of C, it must also meet this re-
quirement – but then C Î C implies C Ï C! Suppose on the other hand that
C Ï C. Then C does meet the requirement for being an element of C, which
means that C ÎC! In other words, C is an element of C if and only if C is not an
element of C!

C Î C Û C Ï C!

In 1900 the French mathematician, Poincaré, made the proud claim that math-
ematics has reached absolute rigour. In a standard work on the foundations of
set theory, however, we read:
“ironically enough, at the very same time that Poincaré made his proud claim,
it has already turned out that the theory of the infinite systems of integers –
1 Just by the way: Cantor developed a whole hierarchy of transfinite cardinal numbers on the
foundation of his definition of ordinal numbers.
2 Kline writes: “It was clear to the mathematical world of the late 18th century that proper foun-
dations for the calculus were urgently needed, and at the suggestion of Lagrange the Mathe-
matics section of the Berlin Academy of Sciences, of which he was the director from 1766 to
1787, proposed in 1784 that a prize be awarded in 1786 for the best solution to the problem of
the infinite in mathematics” (Kline, 1980:149-150).

38
nothing else but part of set theory – was very far from having obtained abso-
lute security of foundations. More than the mere appearance of antinomies in
the basis of set theory, and thereby of analysis, it is the fact that the various at-
tempts to overcome these antinomies, ..., revealed a far-going and surprising
divergence of opinions and conceptions on the most fundamental mathemati-
cal notions, such as set and number themselves, which induces us to speak of
the third foundational crisis that mathematics is still undergoing” (Fraenkel,
1973:14).
Divergence of opinion
Although the divergent opinions which emerged cannot be seen simply as a
mere reaction to the antinomies (since their roots reach much further back into
history), the flowering of three schools – logicism, intuitionism, and (axiom-
atic) formalism – during the first decade of the 20th century are nonetheless
inextricably linked to it.
Implicitly or explicitly every point of view in mathematics must account for
the relationships among the various aspects of reality, including number,
space, movement, the logical and lingual facets. Bertrand Russell's logicism
wanted to reduce all of mathematics to logic – for this reason he declares:
“mathematics and logic are identical” (1956:v). A. Heyting expresses the ex-
actly opposite intuitionist sentiment: “every logical theorem ... is but a mathe-
matical theorem of extreme generality; that is to say, logic is a part of mathe-
matics, and can by no means serve as a foundation for it” (Heyting, 1971:6).
Even Hilbert's formalism must (under the influence of Kant) begin with the
recognition of a more than logical diversity which implies that no science can
be exclusively founded in logic: “Kant already taught – and it represents an in-
tegral part of his doctrine – that mathematics has a guaranteed content inde-
pendently of all logic and can therefore never be grounded solely in logic,
which implies that the efforts of Frege and Dedekind must fail. There is a fur-
ther prerequisite for the application of logical conclusions and for the per-
forming of logical operations, namely that something must be given in the
conception: specific extra-logical concrete objects, intuitively present as im-
mediate experience prior to all thinking” (Hilbert, 1925:170-171).
According to the formalistic-axiomatic approach mathematics should com-
pletely relinquish the truth of the initial postulates (axioms) and only take ac-
count within the requirement of consistency (non-contradiction) that the valid
theorems can be deduced analytically.1 Since, according to this point of view,
it does not matter what we are talking about, as long as we are doing so consis-
tently, Russell formulated his famous epigram: “Pure mathematics is the sub-
ject in which we do not know what we are talking about, or whether what we
are saying is true” (quoted by Nagel, 1971:13).
Already in 1926 P. Finsler showed that in a pure formal mathematical disci-
pline, defined by axioms and rules of calculus, there are propositions which
can be neither proven nor contradicted (cf. Mathematische Zeitschrift, 25
(1926); Finsler, 1975:1-49; as well as Heitler, 1972:50). But in 1931, at the
1 The distinction between analytical and synthetic judgments is used in a Kantian sense by the
various approaches in mathematics. Cf. Kant, 1787:11.

39
age of 25, K. Gödel shook the world of mathematics with an article on the for-
mally undecidable propositions in the Principia Mathematica of Russell and
Whitehead, and related systems. Gödel showed that a proof of the consistency
of arithmetic cannot be reflected in the formal deductions of arithmetic itself –
the consistency of arithmetic, that is, cannot be proven in terms of the axioms
of arithmetic. In a formal axiomatic system Z there always exists a statement A
which can be neither proved nor disproved with the aid of axioms of Z. In
other words, to prove that the conclusions reached from certain axioms are
consistent, it is not possible to use the method in question. In principle every
axiomatic system in mathematics is incomplete – it requires and presupposes
insight into its content which transcends its own formalism.
H. Weyl comments strikingly in this regard: “It must have been hard on
Hilbert, the axiomatist, to acknowledge that the insight of consistency is
rather to be attained by intuitive reasoning which is based on evidence and not
on axioms” (1970:269).
Although this divergence in modern mathematics relates to the third founda-
tional crisis of mathematics, its philosophical sources are much older. His-
torically seen, Brouwer, Gödel, and Hilbert derive their philosophical points
of departure from the three main parts of the Kritik der reinen Vernunft (1781,
2nd edition 1787) of Kant: Brouwer from the transcendental aesthetics,
Gödel from the transcendental analytic, and Hilbert from the transcendental
dialectic. This explains why even in its second and third foundational crises
mathematics still could not escape from the fundamental philosophical prob-
lems already present in the foundational crisis of Greek mathematics.
Problems surrounding differential and integral calculus (the so-called infini-
tesimals) led to the reformulation of the limit concept, which in its turn
brought about the use in set theory of the actually infinite, with the eventual
exposure of the antinomies in the naive set concept of Cantor. Hilbert and
Bernays point out that the failure of Frege's logicistic project particularly ex-
posed the problems in the presupposition of the totality of numerical se-
quences (Grundlagen, I, 1934:15). Exactly in this regard neo-intuitionism
chose for the uncompleted infinite, while axiomatic set theory (fathered by
Zermelo and Fraenkel) attempted by means of all sorts of limitations to pro-
tect set theory against antinomies without sacrificing the actual infinite.
We shall argue below that the use of the uncompleted infinite presupposes the
numerical order of succession on the law-side of the numerical aspect and that
when this numerical time-order is disclosed by anticipating forward to the
spatial order of simultaneity any uncompleted infinite set (such as the set of
natural numbers, whole numbers, or rational numbers) can be viewed as if all
the elements are at hand at once as a complete totality (‘fertige Gesamtheit’ in
the words of Hilbert and Bernays). The relationship between these two kinds
of infinity, which has demanded attention anew since the third foundational
crisis of mathematics (it had already been at issue in Greek thought), ulti-
mately appeals to one of the fundamental philosophical issues of mathematics
as a special science: what is the relation and coherence between the numerical
and spatial aspects of reality? The emphasis in reformational philosophy on
40
the cosmic impact of the creational principle of sphere-sovereignty therefore
retains its relevance for mathematics with regard to the mutual irreducibility
of the numerical and spatial aspects. Within the ambit of this study the pur-
pose has only been to illuminate the importance of philosophical reflection
also in mathematics, with reference to the foundational crises in mathematics.
Particularly against this background the following statements gain signifi-
cance:
“from the earliest times two opposing tendencies, sometimes helping one an-
other, have governed the whole involved development of mathematics.
Roughly these are the discrete and the continuous” (Bell, 1965:12);
and
“Bridging the gap between the domains of discreteness and of continuity, or
between arithmetic and geometry, is a central, presumably even the central
problem of the foundation of mathematics” (Fraenkel, A., et al., 1973:211).
Rucker elsewhere remarks:
“The discrete and continuous represent fundamentally different aspects of the
mathematical universe” (Rucker, 1982:243).
Also Moore discerns two ‘clusters’ of concetps which dominates the history
of the notion of infinity. In the first cluster the following terms are catego-
rized:
“boundlessness; endlessness; unlimitedness; immeasurability; eternity; that
which is such that, given any determinate part of it, there is always more to
come; that which is greater than any assignable quantity” (1990:1). Within the
second cluster he mentions: “completeness; wholeness; unity; universality;
absoluteness; perfection; self-sufficiency; autonomy” (Moore, 1990:1-2).
An interesting development deserves to be mentioned before we conclude this
discussion. A. Fraenkel indicated the infertility of the idea of “infinitesimals”
(the infinitely small) and its rejection by Cantor and the mathematical world at
large in the fourth printing of his Abstract Set Theory (Amsterdam 1968:
120-123). In the meantime, however, Abaraham Robinson developed a new
and fertile use of the infinitesimal exactly on the basis of the use of actually in-
finite sets (transfinite cardinalities) by Cantor. A number a is called infinitesi-
mal (or infinitely small) if its absolute value (that is its value regardless of the
plus or minus sign) is less than m for all positive numbers m in Â(Â being the
set of real numbers). According to this definition 0 is infinitesimal. The fact
that the infinitesimal is merely the correlate of the transfinite numbers, is ap-
parent in that r (not equal to 0) is infinitesimal if and only if r to the power of
minus 1 is infinite (cf. Robinson, 1966:55ff). By means of the infinitesimal it
is possible to meaningfully define limits, derivatives, etc.
Robinson points out that Cantor's treatment of infinite sets is necessary: “...
abstract set theory forms a historical background to the free and easy handling
of infinite sets that is required in Non-standard Analysis” (p. 279). To this he
adds that “whatever our outlook ...., it appears to us today that the infinitely
small and infinitely large numbers of a non-standard model of Analysis are
neither more nor less real than, for example, the standard irrational numbers”
41
(p. 828).1 And rightly so, since both infinitesimal and irrational numbers after
all exist by the grace of the deepened sense of number which, as we shall pres-
ently argue, provides (at the law-side to the quantiative aspect) mathematical
meaning to the completed infinite.
The consideration of these fundamental problems will always remain rele-
vant, as is confirmed by the statements of Fraenkel et al. and Kline at the be-
ginning of our exposition.
Herman Weyl posits against this that “it appears from the intuitionist perspec-
tive that (complete) induction2 protects mathematics from being entirely tau-
tological and characterizes its assertions as (non-analytically) synthetic”
(1966:86). Following the project of Kant's critique of Pure Reason (1787:19)
Weyl here defends the existence of synthetic judgments a priori in mathemat-
ics. Admittedly he (and Brouwer) accept only Kant's notion of time. Number,
according to Kant, is due to the schematization of the logical category quan-
tity in time as a form of intuition (1787:182); it belongs to the synthetic judg-
ments of mathematics a priori. At his promotion in 1885 D. Hilbert defended
the a priori character of numerical judgments: Thesis II: “the objections
against Kant's theory of the a priori character of arithmetical judgments are
unfounded” (cf. Reid 1970:17). Brouwer bases his mathematics on the pri-
mordial intuition of continuity and discreteness, a possibility of thinking to-
gether multiple units combined by an ‘in-between’ which cannot be exhausted
through the ‘inter-positioning’ of new units.3
Brouwer's description of the primordial intuition already contains the rejec-
tion of the actual infinite by intuitionism – our next theme.
Questioning completed infinitude
In intuitionist mathematics the infinite is taken literally as without an end,
never to be completed and continually becoming. Already in his letter of July
12, 1831 to Schumacher Gauss stated that “in this manner I protest against the
use of an infinite magnitude as something completed, which is never allowed
in mathematics” (referred to in Becker 1964:180). The early intuitionist,
Leopold Kronecker, a contemporary and opponent of Cantor, radically re-
jected the completed infinite and even attempted to base all of mathematics in
1 As mentioned, Cantor also referred to the irrational numbers with regard to his transfinite
numbers: “One can simply say that the transfinite numbers stand or fall with the finite irratio-
nal numbers; they are similar in their innermost being” (GA, pp. 395-396).
2 If an assertion is true for a number 1 and also for n + 1 if it is true for n, then it is generally true
(a principle first demonstrated by Blaise Pascal, according to Freundenthal, 1940).
3 “... als het van qualiteit ontdane substraat van alle waarneming en verandering, een eenheid
van continu en discreet, een mogelijkheid van samendenken van meerdere eenheden,
verbonden door een tusschen, dat door inschakeling van nieuwe eenheden zich nooit uitput”
(1907:8). Both this mathematical primordial intuition of Brouwer and the immediate extra-
and pre-logical intuitive experience of Hilbert is seen in a Kantian sense as a priori of science
in general and mathematics in particular. Brouwer however differs from Hilbert's distinction
between formalized mathematics and the intuitive interpretation thereof (the latter is also re-
ferred to as metamathematics) (cf. Beth, 1965:94). Admittedly an intuitive mathematics is
needed even to define a formal mathematics (cf. Kleene, 1952:62)!

42
the finite natural numbers (cf. Scholz 1969:293-294). The early French
intuitionist, H. Poincaré (known in life as the greatest mathematician of his
age until his death in 1912 when Hilbert took over his laurels), also expressly
rejected the completed infinite. The totality of ordinal numbers of the smallest
transfinite cardinal number (aleph-null: Ào) were used by Cantor to obtain the
next transfinite cardinal number, aleph-one (À1): “With regard to the second
transfinite cardinal number aleph-one, I am not entirely convinced of its exis-
tence ... (and) whether we can speak of its cardinality without contradiction.
The actual infinite in any case does not exist” (Poincaré, 1910:48).
Also Brouwer (who identifies existence and constructibility and denies the
validity of the logical principle of the excluded third with regard to the infi-
nite) rejects the completed infinite.1 With this Brouwer rejects the transfinite
number theory of Cantor. The notion of countability after all only becomes
particularly relevant after the demonstration of the existence of non-de-
numerable cardinalities. Did Cantor not demonstrate that the set of real num-
bers is non-denumerable?
In Cantor's diagonal proof it is assumed that all (i.e. the completed infinite set
of) real numbers are correlated one-to-one with the set of natural numbers, af-
ter which it is demonstrated that a further real number can be presented which
differs from each of the counted real numbers (in at least one decimal place),
from which the non-denumerability of the real numbers is concluded. The va-
lidity of this conclusion depends, however, on the acceptance of the com-
pleted infinite. Someone who recognizes only the uncompleted infinite can
never accept this conclusion, since the diagonal method then only proves that
for a given constructible sequence of countable sequences (i.e. decimal
expansions of real numbers) of natural numbers, yet another different count-
able sequence of natural numbers can be construed. Becker states this in the
following way: “The diagonal method demonstrates, strictly speaking, the
following: when one has a counted (law-conformative) sequence of succes-
sive numbers, a sequence of successive numbers can be calculated which dif-
fers in every place from all the previous ones” (1973:161 footnote 2). In this
interpretation there is nowhere mention made of non-denumerability!
A mathematical proof which apparently takes an “exact” course therefore co-
mes to conflicting conclusions depending on the presuppositions (namely
completed infinity or uncompleted infinity) from which one proceeds!
Fraenkel points this out emphatically:
“Cantor's diagonal method does not become meaningless from this point of
view, ... the continuum (i.e. the real numbers – DFMS) appears according to it
as a set of which only a countable infinite subset can be indicated, and this by
means of pre-determinable constructions” (1928:239 footnote 1).
Whoever rejects the completed infinite cannot accept the description of real
numbers given by Dedekind, Weierstrass, and Cantor. Paul Lorenzen ex-
plained that a real number can be presented in terms of the completed infinite
1 “immers de intuitionist kan geen andere, dan aftelbare wiskundige verzamelingen
construeeren” (1919:24).

43
as an infinite decimal fraction of which the infinite multiplicity of numbers all
exist at once (i.e. as an infinite totality). Cassirer already fiercely indicated in
1910 that the concept of a cardinal number depends on a simultaneously given
totality.1
Felix Kaufmann is however of the opinion that “it is generally recognized that
an infinite decimal fraction signifies nothing else but a sequence of natural
numbers, where ... by a sequence is meant not an infinite totality, but merely
the domain of a particular relation ” (1968:122-123). With regard to an irratio-
nal number Ludwig Fischer writes: “Every representation of 2, whatever its
nature might be, can only be taken as an infinite and completely ‘unfinishable’
sequence of rationally approximating values. Only once the in itself contra-
dictory fiction of the completed infinite is added, can the infinite decimal frac-
tion be considered an instance of 2. Without the contradictory notion of the
completed infinite the concept of an irrational number cannot be formed”
(1933:108).
Brouwer and Weyl define real numbers in terms of the uncompleted infinite,
namely as uncompleted infinite choice sequences or as a medium of free real-
ization. Weyl describes a real number as follows: “A single real number can
be described as an infinite sequence of fractional intervals of growing magni-
tude, where each is contained in the following one in the sequence”
(1966:74-75). Fraenkel, Bar-Hillel, Levy and Van Dalen comment: “The con-
ception of the continuum as an aggregate of existing points (members), which
is at the bottom of nineteenth century analysis and of Cantor's set theory, is re-
placed by an aggregate of parts which are partially overlapping and which are
so to speak the manifestations of real numbers still to be generated”
(1973:256).
Intuitionism also sees the continuum differently: “In agreement with intuition
Brouwer sees the essence of the continuum not in the relation of the element to
the set, but in that of the part to the whole” (Weyl 1966:74). Following Aris-
totle Weyl also claims that: “It rather belongs to the essence of the continuum
that each of its parts are infinitely divisible” (1921:77). In opposition to the
notion of a continuum of points Weyl indicates that the concept of environ-
ment must still be used to salvage continuity: “To render a continuous coher-
ence of points analysis has up to today (since it decomposed the continuum
into a set of isolated points) found refuge in the concept of environment”
(1921:77). It should therefore come as no surprise that even a non-intuitionist
such as Paul Bernays – the well-known colleague of David Hilbert – sharply
rejects the supposed successes of arithmeticism in mathematics.
1 “Wenn in der Theorie der Ordnungszahl die Einzelschritte als solche festgestellt und in
eindeutiger Folge entwickelt wurden, so tritt jetzt die Forderung ein, die Reihe nicht nur
nacheinander in ihrer einzelnen Elementen, sondern als ideelles Ganzes zu erfassen. Das
vorangehende Moment soll durch das folgende nicht in ihm aufbehalten bleiben, so dass der
letzte Schritt des Verfahrens zugleich alle vorhergehenden und das Gesetz, das die
wechselseitig verknupft, in sich fasst. Erst in dieser Synthese vollendet sich die blosse Folge
der Ordnungzahlen zum einheitlichen, in sich geschlossen System, in welchem jedes Glied
nicht nur für sich steht, sondern zugleich den Aufbau und das formale Prinzip der
Gesamtreihe repräsentiert” – 1910:55.

44
Elsewhere Weyl declares: “The sequence of numbers which grows beyond
any stage already reached by passing to the next number, is a manifold of pos-
sibilities open towards infinity; it remains for ever in the status of creation, but
is not a closed realm of things existing in themselves. ... Brouwer opened our
eyes and made us see how far classical mathematics, nourished by a belief in
the absolute that transcends all human possibilities of realization, goes be-
yond such statements as can claim real meaning and truth founded on evi-
dence”. Earlier on the same page he clearly states: “Brouwer made it clear, as I
think beyond any doubt, that there is no evidence supporting the belief in the
existential character of the totality of all natural numbers” (1946:6).
In intuitionist mathematics many subdivisions of classical mathematics no
longer serve. Hilbert values e.g. Cantor's transfinite number theory “as the
most wonderful flourishing of a mathematical spirit and as such one of the
highest achievements of pure human intellectual activity” (1925:167), while
A. Heyting considers transfinite number theory as no more than a phantasm
(1949:4). In his work: Das Kontinuum, Weyl worked on the foundations of
analysis and reconstructed large parts in terms of intuitionism, although he
had to admit that he had to sacrifce the theorem “every delimited set of real
numbers has an upper limit” (1932:23-24).
Intuitionism in fact constructed an entirely new mathematics: “The
intuitionists have created a whole new mathematics, including a theory of the
continuum and a set theory. This mathematics employs concepts and makes
distinctions not found in the classical mathematics” (Kleene 1952:52). E.W.
Beth also comments: “It is clear that intuitionistic mathematics is not merely
that part of classical mathematics which would remain if one removed certain
methods not acceptable to the intuitionists. On the contrary, intuitionistic
mathematics replaces those methods by other ones that lead to results which
find no counterpart in classical mathematics” (1965:89).

The influence of intuitionism on the approach of Dooyeweerd


Both Brouwer and Dooyeweerd only acknowledge the potential infinite – as a
law of progression: “A set is a law on the basis of which, when a new value is
chosen repeatedly, a determined sequence of signs is generated for each one
of these choices ... with or without terminating the process” (Brouwer,
1925:244). Accordingly, also Dooyeweerd considers an infinite sequence of
numbers as only determined “by the law of arithmetical progression.” This
makes it possible “to determine the discrete arithmetical value in arithmetical
time of any finite numerical relation in the series. For the rationalist concep-
tion of law this is sufficient reason to attribute actual completed infinitude to
the series as a totality” (NC, II:92). The basic mistake in the idea of the actual
infinite, according to Dooyeweerd, is a confusion concerning the distinction
between law-side and factual side: “Numbers and spatial figures are subject to
their proper laws, and they may not be identified with or reduced to the latter.
This distinction is the subject of the famous problem concerning the so-called
‘actual infinity’ in pure mathematics. The principle of progression is a mathe-
matical law which holds for an infinite series of numbers or spatial figures.
45
But the infinite itself cannot be made into an actual number” (1997-I:98-99
note 1).1
Brief systematic assessment of the relationship between the potential
and the actual infinite
In spite of the fact that Dooyeweerd found the idea of the actual infinite unac-
ceptable, his philosophical theory of the modal aspects of reality does provide
the starting-point for a new and non-reductionistic explanation of the nature
of this kind of infinity. According to his general theory of modal law-spheres,
each aspect has a law-side and a correlated factual side. Within the modal
structure of an aspect their are ‘modal meaning-moments’ that establish the
coherence with earlier aspects (called retrocipations) and ‘modal mean-
ing-moments’ maintaining the coherence with later aspects in the cosmic or-
der (called anticipations) (1997-II:75). To this original conception Dooye-
weerd adds his equally unique idea of time. Time is no longer identified with
the physical aspect of reality but is seen as a distinct dimension guaranteeing
the temporal order of succession between the different (modal) aspects of cre-
ation. Furthermore, according to Dooyeweerd, time expresses itself within the
boundaries of every aspect by ‘taking on’ the nature of the aspect concerned.
It is thus differentiated into a modal time-order and a modal time-duration
(1997-I:28). Every structural element of each modal aspect is qualified by its
‘meaning-nucleus’ or ‘primitive meaning’ which also stamps the way in
which cosmic time evinces itself within the aspect concerned.
The anticipatory analogies of an aspect need to be opened up, to be disclosed.
Within the not-yet-opened-up meaning of the numerical aspect we discover
the original and basic meaning of infinity as it manifests itself at the law-side
of this modality: infinity taken in the literal sense of endlessness. This primi-
tive meaning of the infinite is an expression of the arithmetical time-order of
succession which not only lies at the basis of the principle of [mathematical]
induction but which also determines every countable (denumerable) endless
(i.e., potentially infinite) succession of numbers (be it the natural numbers,
the integers, or the rational numbers).
In stead of using the characterization ‘potential infinite’ we would prefer to
use an expression that would reflect the determining role of the numerical
time-order of succession at the law-side of the arithmetical aspect: the succes-
sive infinite.
Intuitionism only acknowledges this primitive meaning of the infinite. It is
seen as the product of the free and creative power of the mathematician
(Brouwer, 1952:140-142). As soon as the successive infinite meaning of the
numerical time-order is disclosed through the anticipation from number to
space, the meaning of successive infinity is deepened by the meaning of the
spatial time-order of simultaneity. Any successive sequence of numbers
could then, under the guidance of this anticipatory hypothesis, be viewed as if
its elements are given all at once. The deepened and disclosed meaning of the
infinite encountered here could be designated as the at once infinite. Under the
1 De Swart remarks that for Brouwer's intuitionistically constructed spreads different condi-
tions hold which are not valid for other sets (1989:41).

46
guidance of this hypothesis the initial successive infinite sequences of natural
numbers, integers and rational numbers could be viewed as actual infinities,
i.e., as infinite totalities given at once.
Ultimately, the spatial order of at once (simultaneity) forms the basis of the
age-old legacy concerning the actual (at once) infinite as something without
before and after (Augustin), connected with the timeless at once (Maimon) or
with the ‘all existing at once’ (Lorenzen). Cantor referred to a constant ‘fixed
and determined in all its parts’. An intuitive example might help to clarify
what is at stake in the idea of the at once infinite. Employing the idea of the at
once infinite one can, in an anticipating way, correlate the natural numbers
with the points of a straight line – for example, between 1 and 0, with the aid
of the rational number sequence 1/n where n ranges over the set of all natural
numbers. This mode of speech only has meaning under the guidance of the
regulative hypothesis of the original spatial time-order of simultaneity by
means of which the number concept of the successive infinite is deepened and
disclosed to the number idea of the at once infinite.1
In Kantian fashion David Hilbert even remarks: “The role that remains for the
infinite to play is solely that of an idea – if one means by an idea, in Kant's ter-
minology, a concept of reason which transcends all experience and which
completes the concrete as a totality – that of an idea which we may unhesitat-
ingly trust within the framework erected by our theory” (1925:190 – this arti-
cle is translated in Benacerraf & Putnam, 1964 – compare p.151).
Modern set theory claims to define the ‘continuum’ purely in arithmetical
terms, i.e., in terms of the actually infinite set of real numbers which is, due to
Cantor's well-known diagonal proof, non-denumerable. In opposition to this
Ludwig Fischer declares: “Between distinct (non-coalescing) points continu-
ity is present ... under all circumstances, therefore, for each individual point,
the law holds: continuity-point-continuity” (1933:86-87). Since the measure
of each single point is zero, it apparently speaks for itself that every
denumerable set of points would have measure zero. However, in the case of
non-denumerable sets, addition is not defined (if one cannot enumerate the el-
ements of a set, one cannot add them). This seemingly allows for the arith-
meticistic claim that the uncountable set of real points could constitute a posi-
tive measure, larger than zero! Thus, so Cantor and the modern mathematical
measure theory holds, a complete arithmetization of the ‘continuum’ is
achieved!
Without questioning the spectacular achievements of 20th century mathemat-
ics in the domains of measure theory and integration, it still must be pointed
out that their arithmeticistic claims cannot be justified. There is simply no
constructive way in which one can bridge the gap between denumerable and
non-denumarable infinity. Grünbaum, ardently advocating the conception of
the continuum as constituted by an aggregate of non-extended elements (‘de-
generate intervals’), remarks: “The consistency of the metrical analysis which
1 I have analyzed the distinction between concept and idea in my PhD dissertation: Concept
and Idea (Begrip en Idee), Assen: Van Gorcum, 1973.

47
I have given depends crucially on the non-denumerability of the infinite
point-sets constituting the intervals on the line” (1952:302).
It is only possible to demonstrate non-denumerability if one proceeds from the
assumption of the at once infinite. This need for the at once infinite explains
why one cannot, constructively, proceed from denumerability to non-denu-
merability (cf. Wolff, 1971:399-400). In addition to this we have seen that the
primitive meaning of number does not furnish any grounds for introducing the
at once infinite since it is strictly bound to an endless succession of numbers
(determined by the numerical time-order of succession at the law-side of the
arithmetical aspect). Only by considering the anticipation from number to
space do we discern the meaning of the at once infinite – completely depend-
ent upon the irreducibility of the spatial order of simultaneity.
In other words, without the nature of spatial simultaneity this supposition of
an at once infinite set has no foundation. It is an anticipatory spatial analogy
within number.
Since the at once infinite presupposes the irreducible, unique nature of the
spatial aspect it cannot be used subsequently to reduce space to number (a dis-
tinct number of points) in terms of a non-denumerable set of real points. This
reductionist attempt is antinomical and implies the following contradiction:
space can be reduced to number if and only if it cannot be reduced to number
(i.e. if and only if the at once infinite is used, which presupposes the
irreducibility of the spatial aspect)!
We can therefore fully subscribe to the words of the well-known mathemati-
cian, Paul Bernays (co-worker of David Hilbert) where he writes: “The
arithmetizing monism in mathematics is an arbitrary thesis. That the field of
research of mathematics exclusively proceeds from representations of number
is nowhere demonstrated. Much rather concepts such a continuous curve and
a surface, which are particularly developed in topology, could not be reduced
to number concepts” (1976a:188).
We should add to our antecedent brief argument that the spatial aspect (with
the primitive meaning: continuous extension) not only differs from the numer-
ical aspect but also cannot exist without cohering with it. It indeed belongs to
the very nature of a spatially extended continuum that anyone of its parts al-
lows of a successive infinite divisibility. Clearly, this divisibility presupposes
the meaning of the numerical aspect – evident in the qualification: successive
infinite. Remarkably enough, the set of rational numbers is called ‘dense’ be-
cause the numerical difference between any two rational numbers (fractions)
could be ‘divided’ indefinitely. This feature manifests an anticipatory coher-
ence between number and space at the factual side. Since the infinite
divisibility of any spatial subject (functioning at the factual side of the spatial
aspect) in itself entails a retrocipation to the numerical time-order of succes-
sion (at the law-side of the numerical aspect), we are justified to see in the sys-
tem of rational numbers an anticipation to a retrocipation. The ‘reflect-
ing-back’ character of this anticipation could best be captured by speaking
about the semi-disclosed nature of number. After all, the divisibility at stake in
48
this context remains denumerable – just as the set of rational numbers in the
first place could be described in terms of the successive infinite.
This feature enabled Brouwer to introduce an intuitionistic theory of the con-
tinuum. He abstracts fully from any measure concept by focussing only on a
fundamental, completely ordered and overall dense sequence with a first and
last element: “The second act of intuitionism creates the possibility of intro-
ducing the intuitionist continuum as the species of the more or less freely pro-
ceeding convergent infinite sequences of rational numbers” (Brouwer,
1952:142).
It is evident that this intuitionistic position is dependent upon the mentioned
numerical anticipation to a retrocipation. Thus it remains within the confines
of a semi-disclosed handling of the successive infinite in terms of which the
real numbers are approached. Under the pretense that it proceeds purely in ar-
ithmetical terms, Cantorian (and the subsequent axiomatic formalistic) set
theory in fact provides us with a deepened number theory, i.e. with a number
theory that is disclosed by the use of the at once infinite as an anticipatory hy-
pothesis within the enriched meaning of number. Lack of realizing what is
done caused the mathematical legacy to reduce the original meaning of space
into this anticipatory sphere of number – explaining why mathematicians are
inclined to identify the notion of the ‘continuum’ with the real numbers.
Intuitionism, on the other hand, reduces the meaning of space to the
semi-disclosed meaning of number.
In both cases, however, and contrary to their true intentions, essential ele-
ments of the aspect of space are used. In the case of intuitionism, the infinite
divisibility of a spatial continuum is ‘borrowed’, and in the case of axiomatic
formalism the spatial order of at once is ‘borrowed’ in their usage of the at
once infinite. This new perspective simultaneously explains why both Aris-
totle and Cantor advanced similar criteria for continuity. Since Aristotle, on
the one hand, approached continuity from the perspective of the spatial as-
pect, with its characteristic endless divisibility, he clearly only had to use the
successive infinite. Cantor, on the other hand, took the avenue of the numeri-
cal aspect, and the only way to ‘get at’ continuity was in terms of the numeri-
cal anticipation to space given in the idea of the at once infinite.1
Systematically seen, we therefore have to distinguish between the number
concept of denumerability on the one hand, and the number idea of
denumerable and non-denumerable transfinite numbers on the other hand. A
fully disclosed treatment of the real numbers, i.e., a treatment using the at once
infinite, thus raises mathematics to a level of increasing thought economy (by
allowing, amongst other things, indirect existence proofs and the free use of
the logical principle of the excluded middle) shedding a new light on the un-
necessary complexity and limitations of intuitionistic mathematics. The prim-
itive term in Zermelo-Frankel set theory, namely set / element of, reveals the
1 Not without reason Becker remarks: “Thus the Aristotelian theory of the infinite and the con-
tinuum, in its peculiar problem-setting, is still of actual importance to a genuine adequate
foundation of higher [mathematical] analysis” (1965:xii, note 2).

49
implicit dependence of set theory (as a spatially disclosed number theory, an-
ticipating the spatial whole-parts relation and the spatial order of at once), on
the irreducible nuclear meaning of space.1
The acceptance of the integral biblical account of creation guided our preced-
ing analysis. On the basis of a theoretically articulated account of the or-
der-diversity within creation (acknowledging the principles of ‘sphere-
sovereignty’ and ‘sphere-universality’ – entailing anticipations ans retrocipa-
tions) our focus ought to be on the mutual coherence and irreducibility of the
aspects of number and space. It should also be clear that in pursuing this ave-
nue (as we have remarked in the beginning) a third alternative emerges,
side-stepping the extremes of a geometricized and an arithmetized approach.

1 Logicism had to concede that it failed in providing a successful reduction to logic of the no-
tion of infinity. Myhill remarks: “the axioms of Principia [Mathematica] do not determine
how many individuals there are; the axiom of infinity, which is needed as a hypothesis for the
development of mathematics in that system, is neither provable nor refutable therein, i.e., is
undecidable” (1952:182). We add the words of Kline, stating that Hilbert “did agree with
Russell and Whitehead that infinite sets should be included. But this required the axiom of in-
finity and Hilbert like others argued that this is not an axiom of logic” (Kline 1980:246).

50
Lawside

Numerical time-order of succession Spatial time-order of at once


The Successive (potential) Infinite The At Once (actual) Infinite
(The primitive meaning of infinity (Anticipation from number to the lawside of space)
at the lawside of number)
Anticipation
dimension
tion
Primitive
meaning:
Number retro
retroc
cipa
Space Primitive
meaning:
Re ipatio
t n
law roc magnitude
sid ipat
discrete quantity e o ion continuous extension
N (natural numbers) f n to
um the
Z (integers) be Spatial figures
r
Q (fractions) (the whole-part relation)
(Fractions represent an anti- (Semi-disclosed) successive infinite divisibility
cipation to a retrocipation)
needs the at once infinite
R (real numbers) Anticipation (The real numbers represent
the fully spatially disclosed
structure of number)

Factual side
The mutual coherence and irreducibility of number and space

51
52
Paradigms in Mathematics,
Physics, and Biology:
Their Philosophical Roots

Chapter III
Basic questions in Physics

The Prejudice against Prejudices


Perhaps one of the distinctive features of Western civilization is that it experi-
enced an Enlightenment during the 18th century. As a result of the increasing
trust in the rationality of the human being historians assess the 18th century as
the era of Enlightenment. In itself this characterization harbours a relatively
positive evaluation. As a result it would be difficult to have an eye for the tre-
mendous blocking out of insight it also brought about.
In order to discern this shadow side of the century of Enlightenment we only
have to refer to what Gadamer called the prejudice against prejudices! It was
undoubtedly Immanuel Kant, the famous philosopher of the 18th century,
who enthroned theoretical reason. Even law and faith were challenged by this
judge. In the Preface to the first edition of his Critique of Pure Reason (1781)
Kant declares:
Our age is, in every sense of the word, the age of criticism, and everything
must submit to it. Religion, on the strength of its sanctity, and law on the
strength of its majesty, try to withdraw themselves from it; but by doing so
they arouse just suspicions, and cannot claim that sincere respect which reason
pays to those only who have been able to stand its free and open examination
(A12 – translation F.M. Müller).
It was Kant’s intention to set a limit to the applicability of (natural) science
since he did want to leave open a domain for practical reason transcending
the sphere of sense-perception and logical understanding. However, as we
have seen in Chapter I, by the end of the nineteenth century and the beginning
of the twentieth century positivism emerged as a philosophical trend with the
explicit purpose to abolish whatever supersedes sense perception. We have
seen that it was foremost the neo-positivism of the Vienna Circle which, dur-
ing the second and third decades of the 20th century, advocated with great en-
thusiasm that the positive (empirical) natural sciences should attain the lead-
ing role in the further development and unfolding of society. These positive
sciences were (pre-)supposed (!) to operate without any pre-suppositions.
53
In his sharp criticism Karl Popper realized that this understanding of science
entails serious difficulties. He rejected the generality (universality) of empiri-
cal testing (so-called verification) in favour of falsification – his newly intro-
duced criterion of demarcation. W. Stegmüller unequivocally takes the posi-
tion that a person first has to accept something before something else could be
justified in terms thereof. In doing this he implicitly rejects the prejudice
against prejudices characteristic of the Enlightenment:
A Self-guarantee of human thinking, within whichever domain, does not exist.
One has to believe in something in order to be able to justify something else in
terms of it (1969:314).

Discrepancy between philosophers of science and the practitioners of


science
Although the development of contemporary philosophy of science during the
past three to four decades does harbour many points of difference, there is per-
haps one general consensus in the unanimous rejection of the positivist denial
of unavoidable prejudices in science. At the same time there continues to exist
a pertinent discrepancy between the practitioners of science in various aca-
demic disciplines (who are still continuing this outdated positivist view of sci-
ence) on the one hand, and the current situation in the area of philosophy of
science.
About a decade ago I had the opportunity to address a number of natural sci-
entists who still wished to maintain that only what is accessible by sensory ex-
perience qualifies for natural scientific investigation – only that which van be
weighed, counted and measured falls within the domain of science. This reac-
tion immediately reminded me of the mocking words of the American sociol-
ogist, McIver, who referred to a supposed “pre-suppositionless” and “un-
biased” positivist attitude as follows:
The following seems to be the chief tenets of their creed. First, I believe in
facts, and to be saved I must discover new ones. Second, when I have discov-
ered them, I must if possible measure them, but, failing that consummation, I
must count them. Third, while all facts are sacred, all theories are from the
devil. Hence the next best thing, if one can’t discover new facts, is to refute old
theories (1967:21).
The problem with the positivist preoccupation with facts is given in the
unavoidability of doing science without employing theoretical terms. Let us
call these terms provisionally property terms. The unique power of science is
precisely given in its ability to grasp in a systematic fashion experiential data
of an apparently widely diverging nature in the systematic grip of a specific
universal perspective. For example, within the domain of modern physics
many different sorts of entities are encountered – from elementary particles
and atoms up to macro-processes and macro-systems. However diverse these
entities and processes may be none of them escape from the integrating and
universal perspective of the core physical discipline known as thermodynam-
ics. The laws of thermodynamics – such as the law of energy constancy or the
law of non-decreasing entropy – are after all applicable to all possible physi-
54
cal entities and processes there may be, regardless of the particular natures in-
volved. The questions to be addressed to positivism at this point are the fol-
lowing: how do we account for this universality? and: what is the empirical
status of a property term such as energy-constancy?
By pausing for a moment at the development of the concept of matter since an-
cient Greece we shall try to answer these questions.

Property terms – the Achilles’ heel of positivism


In the previous Chapter we have seen that the Pythagoreans adhered to one
statement above all else: everything is number. After the discovery of irratio-
nal numbers – revealing within the seemingly form-giving and delimiting
function of number the formless – Greek mathematics as a whole was trans-
formed into a spatial mode (the geometrization after the initial arithmetiza-
tion). As a consequence material entities were no longer described purely in
arithmetical terms. Space now provided the necessary terms used to character-
ize material entities. This spatial angle of approach remained in force until the
rise of modern philosophy, since philosophers like Descartes (1596-1650)
and Kant (1724-1804) still saw the ‘essence’ of material things in extension.
It was due to Galileo and Newton that the main tendency of classical physics
eventually caused a shift in modal perspective by trying to describe all physi-
cal phenomena exclusively in terms of (kinematical) movement.1 Writing
about the foundations of physics, David Hilbert2 refers to the mechanistic
ideal of unity in physics but immediately adds the remark that we now finally
have to free ourselves from this untenable ideal.
It is therefore strange that the contemporary physical scientist from Cam-
bridge, Stephen Hawking, still writes: “The eventual goal of science is to pro-
vide a single theory that describes the whole universe” (1987:10). Since the
introduction of the atom theory of Niels Bohr in 1913, and actually since the
discovery of radio-activity in 1896 and the discovery of the energy quantum
h, modern physics realized that matter is indeed characterized by physical en-
ergy operation – the physical aspect of reality must be seen as the qualifying
function of matter.
This brief sketch of the genesis and growth of the concept of matter illustrates
in which way different (modal) property-terms served to characterize matter –
starting with the perspective of number and then proceeding to the aspect of
space, the kinematical aspect and eventually the physical aspect of reality.
What is important to realize is that the description of matter was decisively de-
pendant upon a particular theoretical view of reality (Kuhn would have used
the expressions paradigm or disciplinary matrix) which is entailed in the pref-
erence which is assigned to specific property-terms. Is it possible to account
for this foundational choice in an empirical way? Is it possible to perceive the
1 The British philosopher, Thomas Hobbes (1588-1679), was familiar with the mechanics of
Galileo enabling him – as opposed to Descartes – to employ the basic concept moving body as
descriptive tool.
2 Perhaps the greatest mathematician of the 20th century.

55
numerical aspect? Can we weigh the spatial aspect? Can we determine the vol-
ume of the kinematical aspect? Can we ‘measure’ the ‘distance’ between the
spatial aspect and the physical aspect?
The obvious absurdity of these questions not only illustrates the untenability
of the positivistic faith in facts, but at once point at a crucial distinction opera-
tive throughout the history of the special sciences, namely the distinction be-
tween aspects and entities. Reformational philosophy pointed out that these
aspects enable our scholarly reflection to establish a universal coherence be-
tween different kinds of entities – just recall the universal scope of the funda-
mental laws of thermodynamics (which hold for all possible physical entities).
In general an implicit choice on this level of scientific convictions cause a di-
vergence between special scientists. The question concerning the relationship
and coherence between the different aspects of reality (in terms of which we
can describe anything) simply cannot be settled with the aid of the positivistic
method of (empirical) perception and verification.
Positivism did realize that we can only discover the structural nature and the
laws holding for physical entities by investigating the lawfulness (law-confor-
mity) they evince. However, precisely the difference between the universality
of God’s law and the unique instances empirically tested in experimental set-
tings once again unveils the untenability of a positivistic position. A limited
number of experimental instances could never warrant the claim of universal-
ity contained in law statements.
In its materialistic variant positivism reveals even further inconsistencies. Let
us look at the typical claim that matter is all there is: atoms, molecules, and
macro-molecules in interaction. This statement claims that there is nothing
beyond matter – but what about the statement making this claim!? Is it true? If
so, then there is something immaterial (truth). And what about the natural
laws holding for material things? They condition being material but are not
themselves material! Thus both with respect to the truth-value and the univer-
sal validity of natural laws the basic claim of positivistic materialism is
self-defeating!

The measurement of time and modal time orders


Physicists normally claim that time is an exclusively physical phenomenon.
As a consequence, they also hold that only physicists are competent to speak
about the nature of time. Now suppose we visit, accompanying the Historical
Association, a historically significant farm. Upon arrival we notice that the
old couple still live as they did almost fifty years ago when they moved to this
farm – it looks as if nothing changed during this period, as if time came to a
stand-still. What does it mean to say during the past fifty years time came to a
stand-still? If we had physical time in mind obviously this statement would
have been meaningless, since physical time continues without any interrup-
tion! However, when we realize that the mentioned statement concerns our
historical awareness of time, no absurdity will be observed. To phrase this in-
sight in terms of the general pattern of cultural development, taking into ac-
56
count the ascending line from the stone age, the bronze age, the iron age, and
so on, then it is perfectly meaningful to say that within the 21st century there
are communities still living in the stone age (an era more or less dated between
2 million and 10 000 years ago)!
Let us consider another example. Modern governments are entitled to promul-
gate laws with a retroactive effect! This reality would be impossible if legal
science had to operate with a physical concept of time. One cannot escape
from the reality of such a law by viewing it as a mere legal fiction. Surely,
physical time is irreversible and therefore flows in one direction only. Even if
we raise the argument that historical and legal time can only exist on the basis
of physical time, it does not cancel the uniqueness (and irreducibility) of these
other modes of time.
The important systematic conclusion to be drawn from the given examples is
that no single experiential mode of reality can exhaust the full meaning of
time. This novel proposal was first made by the Dutch philosopher, Herman
Dooyeweerd. Time should be seen as a unique dimension of reality. Within
the diversity of modal aspects time expresses itself in accordance with the
unique nature of each aspect. Interestingly, Stephen Hawking (1987:8), the
well-known contemporary physicist, correctly emphasizes (with Augustine)
that time itself is a creature and it does not exist from eternity.
By looking at the history of time-measurement significant points of connec-
tion are found for distinguishing the first four modes of reality in terms of their
respective time orders. It belongs to our general awareness of time: earlier
and later, simultaneity, time-flow and irreversibility are well-known modali-
ties of time. In his work on the foundations of physics (1980:16) Stafleu
remarks:
This is most clearly shown by an analysis of the historical development of time
measurement. Initially, time measurement was simply done by counting
(days, months, years, etc.) Later on, time was measured by the relative posi-
tion of the sun or the stars in the sky, with or without the help of instruments
like the sundial. In still more advanced cultures, time was measured by utiliz-
ing the regular motion of more or less complicated clockworks. Finally, in re-
cent developments time is measured via irreversible processes, for example,
in atomic clocks.
What is striking in this whole development is that different time orders are
used, the one after the other: the numerical time order of succession,1 the spa-
tial order of simultaneity,2 the kinematical time order of constancy and the ir-
reversible physical time order, expressed in the relationship of cause and
effect.
On the one hand we always encounter time as time order – in which case it ap-
pears at the law-side/norm-side of reality – and on the other hand as time-du-
ration (at the factual side of reality). By virtue of the cosmic time order there
1 In Chapter II we related this to our most basic awareness of infinity, namely the successive in-
finite.
2 Compare the at once infinite discussed in Chapter II.

57
also exists a time order of succession between the various aspects.

Time in the aspects of number and space


Mathematicians who are only acquainted the dominant trend in modern math-
ematics, namely the axiomatic formalist standpoint, will claim straight away
that time does not have a place in mathematics. However, those who took no-
tice of neo-intuitionist mathematics (discussed in die previous Chapter) ex-
emplified in the work of L.E.J. Brouwer and his successors (amongst whom
are people like H. Weyl, A. Heyting, D. van Dalen, A. Troelstra and to a cer-
tain extend also P. Lorenzen), will realize that this school explicitly proceeds
from the assumption of an original intuition of time. In this intuition, accord-
ing to Brouwer, continuity and discreteness coincide giving birth to the primal
awareness of one, another one and son on – a process that, through the endless
addition of new units could never be exhausted. In other words, this process is
literally infinite, without an end. This intuitionistic conception of time is his-
torically dependent upon the philosophy of Immanuel Kant who saw time as
one of the psychical forms of intuition of being human.1
What intuitionism identifies as the intuition of one, another one and so on, re-
lates to the arithmetical time order of succession at the law-side of the numeri-
cal aspect. It belongs indeed to the time intuition of every person since without
this numerical time order one of the cornerstones of our modern civilization
will collapse, including our measurement and calculation of (physical) time.
Put differently: our experiential intuition of numerical relations provides us
with an insight into the original (ontically given) numerical time order of
succession.
In mathematics this time order lies at the foundation of the principle of (math-
ematical) induction – first introduced by Pascal. It simply says that if a state-
ment is valid for the number 1 and, subsequently, if it could be shown that
whenever it holds for a number n it also holds for the number n+1, then it ob-
tains universally. According to Weyl already this principle is sufficient to
safeguard mathematics against becoming a mere tautology, in other words to
prevent that a set of formal axioms be the basis of mathematics in stead of a
basic insight that can not be formalized.
The most primitive correlate of the numerical time order of succession is
given in the sequence of natural numbers: (0), 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, ... (without an
end, endless, infinite). Axiomatic set theory sometimes attempt to define or-
der. This is done, for example, by introducing the concept of an ordered pair.
Even in the standard work on Set Theory (second, revised edition, 1973)
Fraenkel et al. there suddenly appears an unexpected petitio principii in this
regard. Without explaining the technical detail it is sufficient to take note of

1 According to Kant the concept number originates through a schematization in time of quan-
tity as category of our understanding.

58
the remark added to their example about an ordered pair (derived from
Kuratowski): “Taken in that order”!1
Within the aspect of space (cosmic) time expresses itself in the spatial time or-
der of simultaneity, correlated with factual spatial extension. Already this in-
sight cancels the misconception that time is spaceless and that space is time-
less. The awareness of simultaneity (that which exists at once) belongs to our
basic intuition of space.
When the arithmetical order of succession at the law-side of the aspect of
number is disclosed under the guidance of the theoretical insight into the na-
ture of the spatial order of simultaneity we discover the regulatively disclosed
idea of infinity, namely the idea of the actual or completed infinity – desig-
nated by us as the idea of the at once infinite.

The kinematical and the physical time order


Since the development of Galileo’s mechanics classical physics attempted to
understand all bodies in terms of the denominator of mechanical movement.
From Newton up to the beginning of the 20th century this mechanistic ten-
dency stamped the main development of modern physics. Max Plank,2 char-
acterized this mechanistic orientation as follows in 1910:
The conception of nature that rendered the most significant service to physics
up till the present is undoubtedly the mechanical. If we consider that this
standpoint proceeds from the assumption that all qualitative differences are ul-
timately explicable by motions, then we may well define the mechanistic con-
ception as the conviction that all physical processes could be reduced com-
pletely to the motions (the italics are mine – DFMS) of unchangeable, similar
mass-points or mass-elements (1973:53).
In kinematics all processes are reversible in principle. This reversibility con-
cerns the kinematical time order. It is analogous to the numerical and the spa-
tial time orders which are also reversible. The reversibility of the numerical
time order first of all flows from the reversibility of the + and – directions in
the system of integers. Although concrete events in physical reality are unidi-
rectional, the time order within the numerical aspect could be experienced
both in the positive and the negative directions.3
Already in 1824 Carnot discovered fundamentally irreversible physical pro-
cesses. The implications of this discovery was further developed simulta-
1 The ordered pair (a,b) is “defined” as the class (a,b) containing the classes (a) and (a,b) “taken
in that order” as elements!
2 As mentioned above, he discovered the quantum of energy h (6.62 10-34 joule sec) – portray-
ing the fundamental discontinuity of energy. In order to account for the discrete nature of the
omission or absorbtion of energy, Planck postulated that radiant energy is quantized, propor-
tional to the frequency v in the formula E = hnv – where n is an integer, v the frequency, and h
the quantum of action (Wirkungsquantum) with the value 6.624 10-34.
3 It may take 5 minutes (physical time duration) for 100 students to enter a class successively.
At the end of the class these students may leave the class in a reversed order, and this may take
one minute only. Although the physical time duration took place in one direction only, the nu-
merical time order is reversed at the end of the class.

59
neously by Clausius and Thompson in their formulation of the second main
law of thermodynamics.1 In 1865 Clausius introduced the term entropy. This
law accounts for the irreversibility of physical processes – it determines the
direction of a physical (or chemical) process in a closed system.2
Thus the law of non-decreasing entropy was established as the second main
law of thermodynamics. At the same time the classical mechanistic reduction
to pure motion was uprooted. Justifiably therefore Max Planck (in his men-
tioned article from 1910) remarks that the “irreversibility of natural processes
” confronted the “mechanistic conception of nature” with “insurmountable
problems” (1973:55). Consequently, whereas the time order in the first three
aspects is reversible, it is irreversible in the physical aspect. This is easily seen
in the a-symmetrical relation of causality: it stands to reason that the cause
precedes the effect!
Since the discovery of radio-activity it turned out that within micro-structurse
themselves there are irreversible processes present proceeding spontaneously
in one direction only. In addition this state of affairs straightaway confirms the
irreducibility of the physical aspect to the kinematical aspect (with its
reversible time order).
Already in his Isagogè Philosophiae from 1930 Vollenhoven distinguished
between the mechanical and the physical aspects. However, in the edition of
1936 this distinction no longer appears. Dooyeweerd, on the contrary, initially
maintained the order numerical, spatial, physical – thus identifying the
kinematical aspect with the physical aspect. Round about 1950 he realized
that this distinction is necessary to account for the fact that kinematics
(phoronomy) can define a uniform motion without any reference to a causing
force (compare Galileo’s law of inertia).

The uniqueness of Constancy and Dynamics


Perpetual motion
From antiquity there have been attempts to make a machine which, once set in
motion, would continue this motion perpetually without using an external
source of energy.
At the beginning of the seventeenth century Fludd designed a closed-circuit
water mill. This initially appeared quite feasible, but every effort to actually
make it work practically failed.
Already in 1775 the French Academy for Science and Art decided to pay no
further attention to purported designs of “perpetuum mobile”. In England also
all claims to the patent rights on such machines were subjected to the provi-
1 The first law is the law of energy conservation.
2 Suppose an ideal gas in a container is connected with another one in which a vacuum is pres-
ent. The internal energy will not change. However, the gas molecules will fill the entire space
spontaneously. This indicates an increase in entropy. Viewed statistically an increase in en-
tropy will always reflect the occurrence of the most probable state. For that reason, within a
closed system, there will always only occur an increase or constancy of entropy – but never a
decrease of entropy.

60
sion of a working model – to no positive effect. The question is: why doesn’t it
work?
To understand why this sort of perpetual motion machine cannot work, we
must refer to the first main law of physics. The underlying idea of perpetual
movement, after all, is that useable energy would be produced without using
any energy. Practically, this means that energy would have to be created.
What does this first law say?
Stimulated by German natural philosophy at the beginning of the 19th century
(especially the ideas of the philosopher Schelling), German natural scientists
searched for a unifying law which would encompass all physical phenomena
in a single perspective. The physicists Heimholtz and Mayer and the chemist
von Liebig defended the notion of the indestructible character of matter even
before experimental evidence confirmed their view.
In 1847, at the youthful age of 26, Helmholtz presented a formulation of his
first main law of physics (actually thermodynamics) to the Physics Society of
Berlin. He began by pointing out that nobody had succeeded in building a suc-
cessful perpetual motion machine. This was a logical consequence of the in-
destructibility of energy. Till the present physicists recognize this law as the
law of energy conservation which means that energy cannot be created or de-
stroyed.1
In view of the law of energy conservation it is quite clear today that the con-
struction of such a machine is impossible in principle, since it would mean
that useful (newly created) energy would be released without using any
energy!
Comment: A second such sort of machine had also been imagined – a ma-
chine which would draw heat from its environment and then convert this en-
tirely into work. The impossibility of such a machine is evident in view of the
second law of thermodynamics, that of non-decreasing entropy. Statistically
this means that in any closed system the most likely situation would occur.
Owing to the difference in temperature in the environment it required to con-
vert heat into work, the second law implies the impossibility of this type of ma-
chine.
These two main laws of physics are fundamental insofar as they are univer-
sally applicable to all physical entities. Laws which indiscriminately hold for
all entities, must completely ignore the typical differences between such enti-
ties. Such modal laws indicate the fundamental ways of being or modi of such
entities. To deduce universal modal laws requires that scientific activity of
analysis which we have called modal abstraction.

Closer reflections on constancy and change


To grasp the physical modality (way of being) of physical entities, it is neces-
sary to ignore their non-physical aspects. Amongst other things, this implies
that it is essential to distinguish clearly between the physical aspect of en-
ergy-operation and its founding kinematic aspect – that is, the aspect in which
1 This law does not exclude the fact that one energy form can be transformed into another form
of energy.

61
we only refer to uniform movement without referring to the cause of motion.
Movement – as the mode of constancy or uniform flow – is an original given,
just as number, space, the economic or the ethical. For this reason Galileo’s
law of inertia implies that we may at most speak of the origin of a change in
motion! All change presupposes a continuing basis. If you do not remain
yourself (constancy), you would not be able to age (change)! The importance
of our understanding of constancy and change (dynamics), justifies a closer
discussion of their nature and origin – which would also enable us to
demonstrate further structural characteristics of modal aspects.
The core of Einstein’s theory of relativity
Einstein’s theory of relativity is well-known. A physicist of his stature lends
credit to the popular view linked to his theory, namely that everything is rela-
tive and changeable. Remarkably, Einstein’s theory rests on a fundamental
presupposition which is the opposite of all relativism. Einstein had to start
with the idea of an order which is uniform and constant – which means that ev-
erything which he has indicated to be relative is only relative in relation to this
constant order.
That this is the case is evident from his postulate that the speed of light is con-
stant in a vacuum. Einstein worked from the presupposition that a particular
light signal would have the same constant speed (c) in relation to all possible
moving systems. It was not even necessary for his theory for such a signal to
actually exist. The fact that later experimentation proved experimentally that
the speed of light does indeed conform to Einstein’s postulate, is – as the
physicist Stafleu puts it – relatively irrelevant! One has to keep this in mind in
connection with contemporary discussions regarding the changing speed of
light
The crux of Einstein’s theory of relativity is therefore to be found in the nature
of the order of constancy which it presupposes.1 We are familiar with the nu-
merical order of succession which founds every counting activity: one, an-
other one, another one, and so on. Just as familiar is the spatial order of simul-
taneity. In distinction from the numerical order of succession and the spatial
order of simultaneity, we experience the order of constancy in the kinematic
aspect of movement.
This means that Einstein’s special theory of relativity of 1905 is a purely kine-
matic theory.2 Einstein’s theory therefore did not primarily develop a theory
of relativity, but rather one of constancy.
Galileo already discovered the particular nature of the kinematic order of
time, as it was revealed in his law of inertia. In terms of this law a body in mo-
1 Spielberg and Bryon correctly emphasize that it is about “invariance” – i.e. constancy – al-
though they unfortunately thereby confuse the terms absolute and unchanging: “Indeed, Ein-
stein originally developed his theory in order to find those things that are invariant (absolute
and unchanging) rather than the relative. He was concerned with things that are universal and
the same from all points of view” (1987:6). The term unchanging is simply the denial (nega-
tion) of change – a physical term. The term absolute cannot really be applied to anything in
creation, that is, not if one wants to avoid the idolization of created reality.
2 The irreducible nature of the kinematic time order is imported with the help of a subject which
moves at a constant speed.

62
tion would continue its movement without stopping – unless something else (a
force or friction) influences it. That means that our insight into the nature of
movement does not depend on a causal power. The term “cause” belongs to
the physical aspect of our experience where we come across the effects of en-
ergy-operation. It cannot be sufficiently emphasized that we can never talk of
a cause of movement, but rather only of a cause of a change in movement –
thus once again acknowledging the modal difference between the kinematical
and physical aspects of reality.1
The unique nature of constancy (that is, the irreducibility of the kinematic as-
pect) is the foundation of all references to dynamics or change. Without a con-
stant basis all talk of change is senseless. For this reason physics cannot link
any meaningful content to a discontinuous change of movement – change of
movement (acceleration and deceleration) is always continuous, since a dis-
continuous change would require a physically impossible infinite force.2 Con-
sequently, we can only establish change on the basis of something continuous.
An alternative formulation of the first main law of thermodynamics
This foundational position of the aspect of movement enables us to philosoph-
ically find a formulation of the first main law of thermodynamics which is true
to reality.
The physical aspect must not only be distinguished from its foundational kine-
matic aspect, since there is also an indissoluble coherence between these two
aspects. For this reason we shall find in the physical aspect a structural mo-
ment which reminds us of the foundational kinematic aspect. Constancy ap-
pears in the physical aspect as a structural reminder of the meaning of motion.
In philosophical terms we may say that we find an analogy of the kinematic
aspect at the law side of the physical aspect.
A formulation of the first main law which intends to be true to reality would
therefore have to refer to energy constancy. Strictly speaking the use of the
term “conservation” is inadequate, since the activity of retention itself re-
quires an input of energy – as in the case of thermodynamic “open systems”
(or “steady states”). The law of energy constancy illustrates not only the dis-
tinct uniqueness of the kinematic and physical aspects, but, taking into ac-
count the distinction between law side and factual side, also the indissoluble
coherence between them: without the foundational position of the kinematic
aspect in the order of the various cosmic aspects we would have no grounds
for discerning an analogy of the aspect of movement in the physical aspect,
that is, the analogy of energy constancy.
The theory of relativity and relativism
In modern times there is virtually no science (including theology) not beset
with attempts at historical relativism. Historicism, after all, claims that every-
1 In his mentioned article from 1910 treating the classical mechanistic view of nature, Max
Planck sharply and correctly distinguished between a “mechanical” and an “energetical”
view of nature (1973:65).
2 Janich stresses a “strict distinction between phoronomic (hereafter named kinematic) and dy-
namic statements” (1975:68).

63
thing changes all the time, that nothing remains the same – moral standards,
religious convictions, legal opinions, economic practices – all things continue
to change.
The pitfall in this argument is already evident in the fact that every indication
of change is inevitably accompanied with kinematic constancy terms such as
“continually”, “still”, “always”, “incessantly”, etc.
This implies that we may not identify constancy with something static, but
that we should much rather evaluate it positively as the foundation of all dy-
namics! At the same time, however, we should leave aside the one-sided and
excessive concern with dynamics which is set against all forms of constancy.1
Such an approach only leads to an unjustified dialectical tension: that which is
the condition and prerequisite of dynamic change – that is, something con-
stant – is seen as its opposite pole and enemy.
The remarkable coherence between the terms constancy and dynamics not
only enlightens us regarding the natural scientific basis for the use of these
terms, since it also emphasizes the insight that the way in which we talk about
everyday occurrences can never escape from the inevitability of having a per-
spective on particular aspects.

Determinism and indeterminism


Using energy constancy as formulation of the first main law of thermodynam-
ics implicitly presupposes the distinction between a law (as order for) and
whatever is subjected to and correlated with that law. It belongs to the nature
of a law that it determines and delimits that which is factually subjected to it.
Conversely, factual reality is determined and delimited by a correlating law –
and in its orderliness/law-conformity factual reality shows this subjectedness.
Even with regard to the supposed “initial state” of the “big bang” Hawking ex-
plicitly states that one has to assume “that there are also laws governing the
initial state” (1987:11). What is striking is that Hawking does not reflect at all
on the origin of these laws!
Werner Heisenberg points out that the development of quantum theory led to
the formulation of physical laws in statistical terms. Moreover, with his
well-known principle of uncertainty, Heisenberg established that “it will
never be possible to determine both the position and velocity of an atomic par-
ticle with an arbitrary precision” (1956:11).2 The then prevailing conception
of physical causality was convinced that physical subjects ought to be seen
merely as the extension of physical laws determining their existence
exhaustively – explaining why this view is also known as determinism. In his
mentioned work Heisenberg explains that according to this deterministic ap-
1 Where a few a decades back one would still refer with the highest regard to a resolute or prin-
cipled person, today it is fashionable to speak of a dynamic person.
2 In April 1927, before he made known his relation of uncertainty, Heisenberg (in a personal
conversation) said to Von Weizsäcker: “I believe I have disproved the law of causality” (Von
Weizsäcker, 1993:132, note).

64
proach exact knowledge of nature or a particular section of it will suffice to
determine the future. He continues:
If one interprets the word causality in such a strict sense, one also speaks of
determinism and means by that that there exist laws of nature determining un-
equivocally from the present the future condition of a system (1956:25).1
Determinism holds that every effect is strictly determined by a cause. In real-
ity this point of view represents a deification of the law-side of the physical as-
pect – explaining why it sees physical entities (subjects) merely as an exten-
sion of physical laws. Determinism reduces the factual side to the law-side.
Stafleu correctly points out, by contrast, that the causal relation at the law-side
of the physical aspect simply states: nothing happens without a cause – but
what the effect of a specific cause may be need not to be fixed in advance. This
formulation side-steps the one-sidedness of both determinism and indeter-
minism: it grants determinism that the concept of a cause is meaningful and
should not be discarded as it is claimed by indeterminism; and it grants
indeterminism that the effect need not to be fixed in advance (just think about
the half-value of radio-active elements), thus highlighting the untenability of
determinism in this regard.
The principle of uncertainty of Heisenberg had the effect that the paths of
great physicists of the 20th century parted – concerning the question whether
or not the concept of causality ought to be maintained in the further develop-
ment of physics. Planck and Einstein wanted to uphold the claims of deter-
minism whereas Heisenberg and Bohr (the Copenhagen interpretation of
quantum physics) opted for the other extreme: indeterminism. If it is the case
that determinism absolutizes the law-side of the physical aspect, then we have
to say that indeterminism absolutizes the factual side of the physial aspect.
The alternative approach advanced here is to view law-side and factual side as
irreducible correlates – an alternative implicitly supported by the necessity to
employ statistical laws in physical theories (cf. Stafleu, 1968:304).

Order and delimitation in physics


In spite of the contemporary interest in chaos it is really not strange that physi-
cists are still looking for an “underlying order in the world” (cf. Hawking,
1987:13). Chaos theory, in the final analysis, wants to unveil a more complex
and overarching order in what appears to be disorderly and chaotic. The
newly discovered complex patterns, however, always point to a determining
and delimiting law, as we have seen. Once this has been realized, another re-
lated issue may gain in prominence – the question concerning the boundaries
of science and reality.
Already in the earliest phases of the Western scientific legacy scholarly
knowledge was confronted with the quest to determine the limits of scientific
thinking. In practical terms this urge coincided with determining the limits of
the universe itself.
1 Max Planck actually adhered to this deterministic understanding of causality. Compare his
1932 article on Causality in Nature (Planck, 1973:252).

65
The finite and limited cosmos in Greek culture
It may be surprising to us that Greek thought apparently found a point of rest
in the delimitation provided to their world picture by the “large world-sea”,
the Okeanos. According to their understanding the earth is a circular slice de-
limited and surrounded by the Okeanos. It seems strange that the Greeks did
not move beyond the boundaries of the Okeanos. Our own modern acquain-
tance with the idea of infinity almost automatically forges this question.
In terms of the Greek mind this was impossible. The Okeanos was one of the
primal forces subdued when the Olympic gods started their reign. The ordered
cosmos owes its form, measure, harmony and determination (concept) to
these gods. Whatever finds itself outside this limit does not display any
form-delimitation and can therefore not be thought or conceptualized. As a
consequence Aristotle does not acknowledge an abstract or empty space. He
lacks our modern concept of space. According to the mature Greek under-
standing space does not exist, only place. Place is a property exclusively at-
tributed to a concrete body. In the absence of a body there is no subject for the
predicate place. From this it naturally follows that an “empty place” is the
place of nothing – in other words, it is no place at all!
The possibility to understand (and encompass) the ordered cosmos flows from
its finite and limited nature – for that reason science is restricted to this finite
and limited, ordered cosmos.
This orientation in different ways caused tensions within Greek science and
culture. In Chapter II we already pointed at the problems caused by the dis-
covery of irrational numbers by the Pythagoreans – eventually leading to the
geometrization of Greek mathematics.
However, the counterpart of the question concerning our knowledge of the
limits of the cosmos is given in the question whether “space” allows for a con-
tinued division or whether the process of division is blocked by last (smallest)
indivisible units? The Greek atomists, Leucippus and Democritus, were con-
vinced that there indeed are such last indivisible units, which they called at-
oms. Since Descartes modern conceptions switched to the conviction that
physical space is both continuous and infinitely divisible.1 By the end of the
19th and the beginning of the 20th century, however, the following distinction
turned out to be necessary: that between mathematical space and physical
space. Whereas the former – in a purely abstract and functional perspective –
is both continuous and infinitely divisible (cf. Chapter 2), physical space is
neither continuous nor infinitely divisible. Since it is bound to the quantum
structure of energy it cannot be subdivided ad infinitum. Energy quanta in-
deed represent the limit of the divisibility of energy.

1 In Chapter II we have pointed out that this property represents an essential feature of spatial
extension. This characteristic provides the basis for the (semi-disclosed) intuitionistic mathe-
matics of Brouwer, Weyl and their successors.

66
Are there inaccessible limits in the natural sciences?
One can say that energy quanta represent an accessible (lower) limit. Are
there truly inaccessible physical limits?
The second main law of thermodynamics, the law of non-decreasing entropy
(practically simply stating that within any closed systems there will always be
an inclination towards the most probable condition), provides us with two
good examples in this regard. This law entails that no single machine can be so
efficient that while it produces energy no energy is lost. For this reason the
classical ideal of perpetuum mobile is unattainable. Amongst other things it
also implies that the lower limit (absolute zero point: -273,16o) is inaccessible.
Although the physicist Kurti managed to reach a temperature as close as one
millionth from the zero point, it still remains impossible in principle to bridge
this last tiny gap – simply because it will require an optimally effective ma-
chine, capable to convert all the energy it needs into usable energy! It is
precisely this that is forbidden by the second main law.

The unlimited but finite universe in Eintein’s theory of relativity


Einstein’s theory of relativity advanced remarkable perspectives in this re-
gard. Since all celestial bodies are subjected to the effect of gravity Einstein
introduced the notion of the “curved space of the universe” (thus employing
non-euclidean geometry). On the one hand it still suggests that the universe is
unbounded, i.e., one can move in any direction beyond all limits. However,
since world space is curved, on the other hand, it entails that eventually one
will end up where one started – showing that in spite of being unbounded the
universe is still finite! In the final analysis his entire theory rests on the another
inaccessible limit: the velocity c of light in a vacuum. This velocity is a true
constant – such that whatever moves is moving relatively to this element of
constancy.1 On the basis of these considerations we have already pointed out
that strictly speaking Einstein’s theory – in its dependance upon this “upper
limit” of mois actually a theory of constancy.

Complementarity – limits to experimentation


There are also remarkable limits to physics in the sense of experimental exac-
titude and determination. By introducing his principle of uncertainty Heisen-
berg showed that it is impossible simultaneously to measure the impulse and
position of an electron. The Copenhagen interpretation of quantum physics
employs the notion of complementarity in order to account for the impossibil-
ity to establish both at once - thus allowing for two irreducible (and comple-
mentary) modes of description, in terms of “place” and “impulse” respec-
tively. In following some ideas of Mario Bunge the physicist Henry Margenau
defends a so-called “moderate reductionism.” He takes this the be “the strat-

1 Sometimes Einstein uses the term invariance (cf. Schilpp, 1951:56). Often he explicitly refers
to the constancy of light in a vacuum (cf. Schilpp, 1951:54, 56).

67
egy consisting of reducing whatever can be reduced without however ignor-
ing emergence or persisting in reducing the irreducible.1

Entities with a physical qualification


Although science tends to be occupied primarily with universal properties or
with the specified universality of types no academic discipline – and therefore
neither physics – can escape from concrete reality where we also experience
the individual side of things and events. The history of academic reflection
knows many examples where an attempt is made to account for the individual-
ity of things in terms of a particular property they may have. Sometimes indi-
viduality is related to matter – as in the case of Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas
(matter as principium individuationis).
However, the brief remarks made earlier in this Chapter and the previous
Chapter, already showed that it is impossible to revert to a view which tries to
consider the aspect of number as stamping matter (the error of the Pythagore-
ans). We have also pointed out that both the spatial and the kinematical as-
pects fail to provide us with a qualifying aspect of material things and events.
The only candidate left is the physical aspect of ernergy-operation.
In order to account for the type-law of physically qualified entities we have to
explain their foundational function. We have to keep in mind that any entity of
whatever kind functions typically with all aspects of reality, in other words,
every entity in a very concrete and plastic way displays a typical function
within the (universal) modal structure of the various aspects of reality. Just
consider the general focus of thermodynamics – a strictly modally delimited
discipline with a universal scope in which the typical features of different
kinds of physical entities are disregarded. In thermodynamics it does not mat-
ter whether we are talking about the solid state, the fluid state or the gaseous
state – the specific weight and heat remain the same. As soon as we take into
account the relationship between micro-structures and macro-structures (such
as within the confines of statistical physics) then the formerly neglected nu-
ances do matter, because the specific heat or weight is specified differently in
each of the three mentioned states (solid, fluid, gaseous).
An analysis of material things, furthermore, cannot escape from the functional
interrelations present between the different modal aspects in which material
things function in a concrete way. The interrelations are first of all accounted
for in terms of what in reformational philosophy is called modal analogies
(anti- and retrocipations) – structural moments within each aspect reflecting
the coherence between the aspect concerned and other aspects. But entities
and events always have typical functions within modal aspects. What is typi-
cal about these functions is that they are evincing the effect of the qualifying
function of the entity under consideration. This implies that the typical func-
tion of material entities within the first three modal aspects of reality will al-
ways point towards (anticipating) the qualifying physical aspect of matter.
Universal modal properties are specified in a typical way. This calls for the
1 Cf. Margenau, 1982:187, 196-197.

68
following terminology: we may speak of anticipatory forms of modal speci-
ficity. For example, qualified by the physical function of energy-operation we
meet the modal specificity of the quantum of energy h which it – for the physi-
cist – a typical number. (h = 6.62 x 10-34 joule sec). Sometimes this kind of
type specificity is designated with the use of the term: constants. Similar to the
constant h in quantum mechanics, c as the velocity of light (in a vacuum)
serves as a constant in Einstein’s theory of relativity.1
By contrast, the atomic number (equal to the number of protons present in the
nucleus of an atom) characterizing a chemical element, is another example of
a typical number.
Even a biotically qualified entity – such as a cell with a nucleus – presents it-
self with typical spatial relationships explicable in a numerical constant K.
This constant K is designated as the “nuclear plasmic index” since it refers to
the ratio between the volume of the cell-nucleus (Vn) divided by the volume of
the whole cell (Cc) from which the volume of the cell-nucleus is subtracted.
Natural and artificial crystals are classified in systems on the basis of symme-
try properties – where each system of crystal is characterized by a peculiar
axis system. The arrangement occurs according to the diminishing number of
symmetry-elements. The seven systems are known as cubic, hexagonal,
trigonal, tetragonal, orthorombic, monoclinic, and triclinic. When the vari-
ous combinations possible between these symmetry elements are considered,
32 possible symmetry classes could be designated – all of them spatial form
types encompassing all the possibilities of physically qualified crystalliza-
tion.2 In other words, these 32 classes of crystals represent typical spatial
relationships.
We now have to make explicit an important distinction – although it played a
hidden role in our discussions up to this point.
Firstly, there are universal modal laws – such as those treated above (like the
law of energy constancy and Galileo’s law of inertia). Discerning modal laws
requires the distinctive feature of scholarly activities as described in Chapter 1
– modal abstraction. It is only on the basis of our integral (multifaceted) expe-
rience of reality that we gain theoretical access to the underlying modal struc-
ture of it. For this reason we may call this method of articulating modal prop-
erties transcendental-empirical. Traditionally, especially since Kant’s Cri-
tique of Pure Reason, the word transcendental is employed to account for that
which provides the basis of all experience in the sense that it makes possible
what we experience. Unlike Kant, however, we don’t want to assume that the
transcendental conditions of experience are in advance (i.e., a priori) con-
tained in the formal structure of the knowing person (Kant’s forms of intuition
and thought categories). Much rather, we proceed from the conviction that the
modal condition for experiencing physical phenomena is given in the univer-
sal modal structure of the physical aspect of reality. With this approach we in-
1 In this case, however, the speed of light is taken in an unspecified universal modal kine-
matical sense.
2 Von Federov and Schönfliess, independently of each other, came to this classification already
in 1890 and 1891.

69
tend to claim that the physical aspect lies at the foundation of whatever we can
experience in a physical sense. An analysis of the distinct modal aspects of re-
ality therefore rests upon a transcendental-empirical approach.
Secondly, we have to acknowledge that there are entitary laws for different
types of entities – succinctly designated as type laws. The existence of type
laws enable us to classify physical entities and place them in various catego-
ries. The typical nature of an entity specifies1 the modal meaning of the as-
pects in which it functions. These typical natures of entities provide a peculiar
“colouring” to their modal functions. But most importantly, type laws do not
hold for each and every possible kind of entity – they apply to a limited class
of entities only. Stafleu explains this distinction as follows (1980:11, cf. pp.6
ff.):
Hereby we distinguish laws which are valid for a limited class of subjects (typ-
ical laws) from those which are valid for all kinds of subjects (modal laws).
Typical laws, in principle, delineate a class of subjects to which they apply,
describing their structures and typical properties. Examples of such laws are
the Coulomb law (applicable only to charged subjects), the Pauli principle (ap-
plicable to fermions), etc. Often the law describing the structure of a particular
subject (e.g., the copper atom) can be reduced to some more general laws (e.g.,
the electromagnetic laws in quantum physics). On the other hand, modal laws
are those which have a universal validity. For example, the law of gravitation
applies to all physical subjects, regardless of their typical structure. We call
them modal laws because, rather than circumscribing a certain class of sub-
jects, they describe a mode of being, relatedness, experience, or explanation.2
It is well-known that Immanuel Kant launched his epistemology by asking the
question: How are synthetical propositions a priori possible? (1787:19). In
Chapter 1 we have mentioned his view on the thought categories of our under-
standing and his claim that (in a formal sense) these categories are not derived
from nature but are prescribed to nature in an a priori way (1783 par.36). Al-
though misdirected by the rationalistic assumptions of his epistemology,
Kant, in his search for the synthetic a priori, actually struggled with the nature
of modal universality.
To appreciate Kant’s position better in this regard we have to return to the
differnce between modal laws holding for whatever there is and type laws ap-
plicable to a limited class of entities only. Whoever modally abstracts a partic-
ular aspect in transcendental-empirical manner gains access to the (unspeci-
fied) universality of modal-functional relationships. Since modal aspects are
not concrete entities or events they cannot be treated as if they are entitary in
nature, because this would simply amount to a reification of modal functions.
If one really wants to gain an understanding of the type law of any particular
1 Take note that we do not say individualizes because universality does not exist on one end of
a continuum with individuality at its other end.
2 The fact that modal laws – such as those of quantum physics – hold for all possible “objects”
is clearly seen by Von Weizsäcker: “Quantum theory, formulated sufficiently abstract, is a
unversal theory for all Gegenstandklassen (classes of objects)” (1993:128). When he ex-
plains, on the next page, that one cannot deduce the kinds of entities of experience from the
universal scope of quantum theory, he has in mind what we are calling type laws.

70
kind of entities one has to investigate those entities empirically. One cannot
derive the typical nature of different kinds of physical entities from modal
analysis or abstraction – what is required is empirical testing through
experimentation.
This explains why even Kant was compelled to make a distinction between his
(supposedly universally valid a priori) thought categories on the one hand
and so-called empirical laws of nature on the other hand:
We rather have to distinguish empirical laws of nature, which always presup-
pose particular perceptions, from the pure or general natural laws, which,
without having a foundation in particular perceptions, only contain the condi-
tions of their necessary connection in an experience. In respect of the latter na-
ture and possible experience are entirely the same; and since within these the
law-conformity of the necessary connection of appearances in an experience
(without which we are totally incapable of knowing any object of the world of
the sense), actually is based upon the original laws of the understanding, so it
initially does sound strange, but it is nonetheless certain, when I state with re-
spect to the latter: understanding creates its laws (a priori) not out of nature,
but prescribes them to nature (1783 par.36:320).
This distinction runs parallel with the one which we have drawn between
modal laws and typical laws (type laws). Whereas Kant ought to receive credit
for wrestling with the dimension of modal universality, positivism and
neopositivism ought to be acknowledged for their emphasis on experimental
testing (not the same as: verifying!). Only through studying the orderliness or
law-conformity of entities is it possible to arrive at an understanding of the
type laws holding for that limited class of entities conforming the their pecu-
liar type laws. In the case of physics it requires empirical research through ex-
perimentation. Of course this does not free physics from an overarching and
underlying paradigm (theoretical perspective) in which modal properties are
also accounted for. Sometimes this dimension the theory formation is implic-
itly acknowledged when reference is made to theoretical terms which cannot
directly be tested against actual experiences.
By making an appeal to Dilthey’s sketch of seeing a natural scientific theory
formation as constructing reality via logical mathematical elements of con-
sciousness (and thus asserting the power over nature of this sovereign con-
sciousness as an effect of the autonomy of the human intellect),1 Weyl wants
to follow the conception of Hugo Dingler regarding the principle of symboli-
cal construction. Weyl is convinced that the “constructive character of the
natural sciences, the situation that their individual propositions do not have a
verifiable meaning in intuition (Anschauung), but that truth builds a system
which can only as a whole be assessed” (1966:192) has been explained by
him.
Max Planck states a similar perspective in a concise way: “Strictly seen it is
totally impossible to find any physical question which can be assessed directly
through measurements without the aid of a theory” (1973:341).
1 Weyl refers to the second volume of the 1923 edition of Dilthey's Collected Works (p.260).
Cf. Weyl 1966:192.

71
Weyl affirms the correctness of Dingler’s definition of physics as that disci-
pline in which the principle of symbolical construction is fully carried through
and then adds a statement once again making an appeal to the above-men-
tioned distinction between modal universality and typicality: “But what is
connected with the a priori construction is experience and an analysis of expe-
rience through the experiment” (1966:192).
Discussing the nature of an a priori synthetic element in the “empirical sci-
ences,” Stegmüller raises the following possibility – also alluding to the same
issue (1969:316):
Surely, this cannot imply that the totality of law-statements present in a natural
science could be of an a priori nature. Much rather, such an apriorism should
limit itself to the construction of a limited number of a priori valid law rela-
tionships, while, furthermore, all more specific laws of nature should be de-
pendent on empirical testing.1
Keeping in mind that we must distinguish laws in an ontical sense from our
hypothetical law statements in scientific formulations, we also have to note
the similarity between the just-mentioned statement of Stegmüller and the fol-
lowing explanation of Stafleu (related to the distinction between modal laws
and typical laws):
Whereas typical laws can usually be found by induction and generalization of
empirical facts or lower level law statements, modal laws are found by ab-
straction. Euclidean geometry, Galileo’s discovery of the laws of motion ...,
and thermodynamic laws are all examples of laws found by abstraction. This
state of affairs is reflected in the use of the term “rational mechanics”, in dis-
tinction from experimental physics (Stafleu, 1980:11).
It must be clear that what is intended with the distinction between modal and
typical laws indeed has captured the reflection of prominent thinkers. To men-
tion one last example: C.F. von Weizsäcker. He says that although the basic
assumptions of quantum theory could be written down on one page (for the
mathematically trained reader!), the number of known experiences conform-
ing to this theory runs into billions – and not a single one is found contradict-
ing quantum theory in a convincing way. He then says, alluding to the univer-
sal validity of Kant’s thought forms: “I use an idea of Kant and conjecture that
quantum theory therefore holds universally in experience, because it formu-
lates the conditions for possible experience.”2
In order to speak about entities the modal aspects have to be used as points of
entry. Even when we refer to the totality-structure of an entity the employed
terms stem from a unique modal aspect: the spatial mode. The term totality is
1 Fales entertain, in a different conext, “the possibility that there are synthetic a priori truths;
truths about abstract entities may express facts which are not merely the result of linguistic
convention” (1990:148).
2 Von Weizsäcker, 1993:93. “Laws capable of mathematical formulation finally forms the hard
core of the natural science: not the important detail, but the form of universal validity”
(1993:113). In another context he writes that the quantitative results of astronomy are based
upon physical laws and that we postulate, as a working hypothesis, a universal validity for
these laws (1993:25).

72
after all simply synonymous with the terms coherence and wholeness (and it
implies a multiplicity of parts and – at least in the case of spatial continuity –
the whole is infinitely divisible).
Although Kant did not foresee that his wrestling with the nature of the syn-
thetic a priori actually bears upon the issue of modal universality which forms
the counter-part of typicality, the effect of this distinction is still immensely
important for a meaningful understanding of physical reality and for the disci-
pline studying it: physics.
We conclude our reflection with a brief analysis of the structural uniqueness
of an entity and with a succinct statement of what the idea of a physical quali-
fication of material things entail.

The unity and identity of an entity


One of the basic problems of theoretical reflection – occupying philosophers
throughout the centuries – is given in the question how we account for the ex-
perience of identity which we attach to different things in the world. What
makes it possible to recognize a changing and ageing human being as the
same human being over time? Are we justified in saying that a tree – with its
different appearances in summer, autumn, winter and spring – is always the
same (identical) tree?
Plato wrestled with the problem and eventually formulated his speculative
theory of static super-sensory ideal forms, albeit on the basis of the lasting in-
sight that change requires constancy as its basis. Perhaps it is correct to say
that Plato stumbled upon the law for entities in his quest to attain knowledge
of changeful things. The type law of and entity may indeed be seen as the con-
dition for the durable identity of an entity – underlying all the changes and al-
terations it may experience. The identity of an entity, however, can only be ap-
proached through the point of entry provided by its different modal aspects.
For that reason we already had to use terms coming from the kinematical and
physical aspects even to formulate our problem – as can clearly be seen when
we say that changes (physical point of entry) could only be established on the
basis of something relatively constant (kinematical point of entry). In contin-
uing its identity every single entity factually displays an orderliness corre-
latively reflecting the order for its existence to which it is subjected. Phrased
differently: in its orderliness and law-conformity an entity in a universal way
evinces that it is subjected to the universally conditioning law for its exis-
tence.1
The said order for, as law for being an entity differs in principle from the static
eidos construed by Plato as the super-sensory essence of things. Similarly,
also Aristotle did not escape the one-sidedness of his epistemological ap-

1 Universality and individuality are always strictly correlated at the factual side: this tree (indi-
vidual side) is a tree (universal side).

73
proach which identified knowledge with conceptual knowledge.1 As a strictly
individual entity Aristotle’s primary substance is unknowable. This caused
Aristotle to introduce his secondary substance as the universal substantial
form of things – in order to save the possibility of conceptual knowing!
Our knowledge of the individuality of entities closely coheres with the way in
which we experience the identity of those things. This identity is something
given to us in our experience and can therefore never be construed afterwards
in terms of the various modal aspects by means of which we gain explanatory
access to it.
Being bound to these points of entry the only alternative is to set apart what is
known as the typical foundational and the typical qualifying function of an en-
tity. But even this approach cannot replace the given identity and unity of an
entity – something that we can only approximate in knowledge which is of a
concept-transcending nature, in other words in idea-knowledge. This entails
that our (constitutive) concept of the order for and the orderliness of entities is
always (regulatively) based upon the idea of the temporal unity, individuality
and identity of an entity.

Physically qualified entities


Although the history of philosophy and the natural sciences have tried for
long to find a qualifying qualification for material things in one of the first
three aspects of reality, it was only at the beginning of the 20th century that
general natural scientific consensus was reached concerning the energetic
qualification of material things (elementary particles, atoms, molecules,
macro-molecules, macro-systems).
We have seen that the Pythagoreans wanted to reduce everything to number.
The discovery of irrational numerical relationships led in the school of
Parmenides (to which Zeno with his arguments against movement and multi-
plicity also belonged) to the geometrization of Greek mathematics and to the
conviction that all physical things are spatially characterized. This spatial ori-
entation lasted for more than two thousand years! The father of modern phi-
losophy, Descartes (1596-1650), divided reality into the two spheres of an ex-
tended and thinking “substance” (res extensa and res cogitans): “the nature of
body consists not in weight, hardness, colour, and the like, but in extension
alone” (Principles, Part II, IV). Even until the 18th century this view exerts its
influence unchanged. As we have seen Kant says that when we remove every-
thing which the mind conceives of in the representation of the body (like sub-
stance, strength, divisibility, etc.) as well as everything which belongs to our
1 Concept-formation always occurs on the basis of universal properties. For this reason the in-
dividual side of things is conceptually speaking unknowable! Those who acknowledge con-
ceptual knowledge only cannot account for the knowledge we have of things (and ourselves!)
in their (our) individuality. We prefer to call those who identify knowledge with (universal)
conceptual knowledge rationalists and those who reject conceptual knowledge while holding
on the that kind of knowledge with which we know things in their individuality as
irrationalists.

74
awareness of the body (like impenetrability, hardness, colour, etc.), then all
that remains is extension and form (Ausdehnung und Gestalt) (CPR, B:35). In
connection with the nature of constancy and change we saw that the main ten-
dency in classical physics (since Newton) was mechanistic – in other words, it
was believed that all physical processes can be reduced to (mechanical)
movement. The last great representative of this mechanistic approach was
probably Heinrich Hertz – the German physicist who did experimental work
about electromagnetic waves more than a hundred years ago.1 We have men-
tioned Planck’s article from 1910 where he clearly stated that the
“irreversibility of natural processes” confronted the “mechanistic conception
of nature” with “insurmountable problems” (1973:55).
It is clear that every attempt to find an arithmetic, spatial or kinematic qualifi-
cation for physical entities necessarily runs into theoretical antinomies.
Let us consider the nature of an atom for a moment. Besides the arithmetic
function which an atom has (think about the atomic number), it also possesses
a clear spatial function: it is characterized by a particular spatial configura-
tion – the nucleus of an atom with peripheral electron systems. According to
wave mechanics, we find quantified wave movements around the nucleus of
the atom – the kinematic function of the atom. Already in 1911, in Ruther-
ford’s atomic theory, the hypothesis was posed that atoms consist of a posi-
tively charged nucleus and negatively charged particles which moved around
it (a view which was inspired by the nature of a planetary system). In the fol-
lowing year (1912), Niels Bohr set up a new theory which contained two
important new ideas:
(i) the electrons move only in a limited number of discrete orbits around the
nucleus and
(ii) when an electron moves from an orbit with a high energy content to one
with a low energy content, electromagnetic radiation occurs.
In 1925, Pauli formulated his exclusion principle (Pauli-exclusion).2 Accord-
ing to the division of charges of electrons, corresponding electron-shells exist,
and in each peel there is room for a “maximum” number of electrons. This
maximum number is given by the simple formula: 2n2. In the first peel (known
as the K-peel) there is room for 2 electrons; in the following L-peel, there is
room for 8; in the M-sheel for 18; in the N-sheel for 32; and so on. Within a
sheel with a quantum number n, (where there is room for 2n2 electrons)
1 This work not only established him as the founder of wireless telegraphy and the radio, but
also immortalized his name in the unit of frequency (Hertz) named after him. Soon after his
death in January 1894 his large theoretical work appeared: “The Principles of Mechanics de-
veloped in a New Context (Die Prinzipien der Mechanik in neuem Zusammenhange
dargestellt (312 pp.).” Restricting himself to the first three modal aspects only (represented
by the concepts time, space, and mass) he rejected the concept force (a physical concept) as
something inherently antinomic (cf. Katscher, 1970:329). Thus we can see how consistently
he carried through the mechanistic approach.
2 It applies to fermions, i.e., elementary particles with a 1/2 spin (1/2, 3/2, 5/2, etc.) for which
the statistical laws of Fermi-Dirac are formulated.

75
sub-orbits are identified so that each sub-orbit with a quantum number l has
room for 2(2l+1) electrons.
It is already obvious from these facts that the distinct number of elementary
particles in the internal atom structure are joined into a typical spatial order of
electronic orbits which configure the atom as an individual physical-chemical
micro-totality. The special spatial configuration which is manifest in the inter-
nal build of an atom, reflects the typical foundational function of atoms.1

The wave particle duality and the idea of the typical totality structure
of an entity
After Einstein reverted to a particle theory regarding the nature of light,2 it
turned out, on the basis of interference phenomena,3 that it is always possible
to ascribe a wave-character to elementary particles. Conversely, the Compton-
effect – regarding the interaction of a photon and an electron – supplied evi-
dence to support the idea of distinct particles. De Broglie broadened the per-
spective by showing that with each and every moving particle (atoms, mole-
cules and even macro-structures) one can associate a wave (cf. Eisberg,
1961:81, 151).
Although it turned out to be impossible to establish experimentally at the same
time both the particle and the wave nature Bohr claims that these two perspec-
tives are complementary (cf. Bohr, 1968:411 ff.).
In the light of the generalization provided by De Broglie one may ask: if it is
possible to describe/explain entities qualified by energy in terms of two mutu-
ally exclusive experimental data, namely as particles and as waves, is it then
still meaningful to speak about a unitary structure? This question puts the fin-
ger exactly on that point where the special scientific description reaches its
limits and needs to fall back upon a perspective transcending the confines of
special scientific inquiry. What is here required is some or other philosophical
account transcending the mere combination of one or more (modally delim-
ited) special scientific points of view. We have seen that the idea of the unity
and identity of an entity could never be provided to us by theoretically expli-
cating various modal functions, simply because this underlying unity is pre-
supposed in all theoretical explanations. In a strict and technical sense this
idea of an entity in its totality – preceding the analysis of its modal aspects –
1 Dooyeweerd initially thought – 1935-1936 – that natural things do not have a typical founda-
tional function. In 1950 he relinquished this position (Cf. 1950:75 note 8).
2 Light quanta are called photons and similar to the neutrino they possess a zero mass.
3 Interference phenomena were established after Michelson – round 1880 – designed an inter-
ferometer capable of cutting light and afterwards recombining it. Thus one ends up with the
same light beam – with slightly less energy. The remarkable result was that the sum did not
produce light but darkness! However, when one of the two halves was blocked with a piece of
black paper the other halve did appear. Seemingly the only way to explain what happened
here is to assume that the interference of the split light-waves cancel out each other when
reunited.

76
refers to an individual whole embedded in the inter-modal and inter-structural
coherence of reality, to an entity emerged in the dept-layer of an all-embrac-
ing temporality transcending genuine concept-formation and only to be ap-
proximated in a concept-transcending idea.
A deepening of this basic (transcendental) idea occurs when – through theo-
retical reflection and investigation – the dimension of micro-structures is un-
veiled (the micro-world with atoms and sub-atomic particles). It is important
in this context, however, to realize that concepts such as particle, field, and
wave are not type concepts but modal functional concepts (sometimes referred
to as elementary basic concepts of physics). Consequently, the terms particle
and wave analogically reflect retrocipatory structural moments within the
structure of the kinematical aspect, namely movement multiplicity (numerical
analogy) and movement extension (spatial analogy). These facets are deep-
ened in physically qualified entities and could be approximated in physical
theory from the perspective of mathematical anticipations to the physical
aspect – compare Shrödinger’s wave function formulated in terms of
differential equations.
Since number, space and movement remain irreducible aspects regardless of
the nature and type of entities functioning in them (their modal universality),
it is also from this perspective understandable why the functionally distinct
concepts particle and wave cannot be reduced to each other – a state of affairs
supported by experimental data.

Physically qualified structural interlacement


All entities with a physical qualification belong to the realm of material
things. Atoms represent a radical type within this realm. What is the nature of
the relationship between atom and molecule? Is it possible to see a molecule in
an atomistic sense as the external linking of atoms actually continuing to ex-
ist? But what then about the obvious totality-properties of molecules? Are we
not compelled, on the basis of the latter, to conclude (in a holistic sense) that
the nature of a molecule is such that its contains and embraces the constitutive
atoms in a transformed way – as integral parts of a new whole?
Van Melsen says that in “most forms of Atomism it is a matter of principle that
any combination of atoms into a greater unity can only be an aggregate of
these atoms.” By contrast, he refers to holistic tendencies: “In modern theories
atomic and molecular structures are characterized as associations of many in-
teracting entities that lose their own identity. The resulting aggregate origi-
nates from the converging contributions of all is components. Yet, it forms a
new entity, which in its turn controls the behaviour of its components”
(1975:349).

77
Chemical bonding is accounted for in terms of the electron shells.1 Normally
only the outer electron shells are responsible for chemical bonding. Ions,2
which are normally designated with a plus (+) or minus (-) sign3 constitute
ionic bonding in such a way that the positive ions are balanced by negative
ones.4 Coulomb forces keep ions in chemical bonding together.5
Non-ionic (covalent) bonding takes place when certain atoms share specific
electrons. This type is also known as covalent bonding or electron pair bond-
ing not only because the pair of electrons spend much time in the space be-
tween atoms but also because they are paired their spins point in different
directions.
A third type of chemical bonding is found in common metals, known as metal-
lic bonding. Most organic crystals are kept together by Van der Waals forces,
but because they are to weak they should not be seen as true forms of chemical
bonding.
We may now return to the apparent extreme possible positions regarding the
relationship between atoms and molecules in chemical bonding. From the fact
that chemical bonding is chemically accounted for in terms of the (outer) elec-
tron shells, it is clear that the nucleus of the atom maintains its internal integ-
rity in the chemical bonding. The nucleus of the atom is not simply an acci-
dental feature of the atom but indeed that central part of the atom which deter-
mines its place in the periodic system. For example, in a crystal lattice individ-
ual atoms still serve as sources of radiation when subjected to Röntgen rays.
Another consideration is that the chemical bonding does not affect the ra-
dio-activity of atomic nuclei. These kinds of considerations suggest that at-
omism is correct – in the quoted words of Van Melsen: “it is a matter of princi-
ple that any combination of atoms into a greater unity can only be an aggre-
gate of these atoms.”
However, this does not tell the whole story, since there are equally forceful ar-
guments in favour of the view that the molecule, in the final analysis, forms a
new unity fully encompassing the atoms as parts of an integral whole. Bio-
chemistry discovered many isomeric forms, that is, they have identified chem-
ical structures which are constituted by the same atoms, viewed purely numer-
ically, but that nonetheless, owing to different spatial arrangements, differ
chemically. The formula C3H6O may yield the following (chemically distinct)
structures: CH3.CH2,CHO or CH3.CO.CH3. Another example is C4H4O4.
1 Weiniger points out that regarding the relationship between the classical concept of molecu-
lar structure and quantum-mechanics there are still serious unresolved problems (1984:940).
2 These are atoms with a positive or negative charge depending on whether or not they have ac-
quired or lost an electron.
3 For example Na+ for a nitrogen ion and Cl- for a chlorine ion.
4 Sodium chloride consists of a lattice such that each sodium ion (Na+) is surrounded by six
chlorine ions (Cl-) and such that each chlorine ion is surrounded by six sodium ions.
5 Distinct from electrons with a negative charge the nucleus of the atom is positively charged.
The latter is constituted by neutrons (electrically neutral) and protons with a positive charge.

78
H COOH H COOH

C C

C C

H COOH COOH H

Maleic acid Fumaric acid


cis trans

From a neo-Thomistic perspective P. Hoenen, for example, defends a view of


a molecule in line with Aristotle’s approach. He accepts Aristotle’s substance
concept which holds that only the combination of form and matter can yield a
substantial unity. Any atom maintaining its actual existence within the mole-
cule would jeopardize the substantial unity of the molecule. Those features
apparently suggesting the actual existence of atoms after their bonding in mol-
ecules ought to be seen as mere virtual characteristics.
In connection with the problem of the structural interweaving of entities,
Dooyeweerd developed a theoretical approach which accounts for the contin-
uation of the internal nature of entities which are interwoven (cf.1996-III:627
ff., 694 ff.). When the internal nature of an interwoven entity is retained,
Dooyeweerd speaks of enkapsis. When the structure of one kind of entity is
foundational for the structure of another kind of entity, it is referred to as a
one-sided enkaptic foundational relationship.
With regard to the infinite divisibility of a spatial whole, there are important
limits in the unqualified use of the spatial whole-parts relation. The nature of
enkaptically interwoven forms illuminate further limits in this regard. The in-
terweaving which exists, for example, between the sodium and chlorine atoms
which are found in table salt, is in no way given account for with the help of a
whole-parts perspective. Every division of table salt must – that is if we still
want to be working with real parts of salt – still possess the same chemical
structure (NaCl). The critical question is whether sodium and chlorine have
each individually got a salt structure? Are sodium and chlorine true parts of
salt? The answer is obvious: No, because neither one has a NaCl-structure on
its own!
This simple example already uproots the unqualified way in which, especially
in modern system theory, literally everything in reality is spoken of in terms of
a whole and parts (systems and subsystems) (cf. my criticism of this in
Strauss, 1985).
We have mentioned that within the realm of physically qualified entities we
encounter different geno-types. Different bonds of the same atom display a
79
number of variability types. When an atom engages in chemical bonding, we
encounter an enkaptic structural totality: besides an entity’s internal structural
working sphere there is an external enkaptic sphere of operation – a sphere in
which the enkaptically-bound structure stands in service to the enkaptically
encompassing totality.
A water molecule, e.g., can exist as a structural whole on the basis of the
geno-type of the bond of the oxygen and hydrogen atoms. Without atoms,
there can be no mention of a molecule – thus the indication: unilaterally
founded. Does this imply that the atoms totally become part of the chemical
bond which exists in the molecule? Not at all, because the bond applies only to
the bonding electrons and not to the whole atom. Besides, as we have noted,
the atom nucleus is not just a specific characteristic of the atom, but precisely
that nuclear part of an atom which determines its physical-chemical geno-type
(compare the atomic number = the number of protons of the nucleus), as well
as the atom’s place in the periodic table.
The fact that the atom nucleus remains structurally unchanged in the chemical
bonding, guarantees the internal sphere of operation of the atom. Because the
electrons cannot be disengaged from the atom nucleus, the atoms function as a
whole in the water molecule. Note that we cannot say that the atoms function
in a chemical bond. The bonding does not encompass the atomic nuclei.
Nonetheless the atoms (with their nuclei, electron shells and bonding elec-
trons) are present as a whole in the water molecule which encompasses them
enkaptically. The indication: enkaptically encompassed, shows that the at-
oms, retaining their internal nature, is externally serviceable to the water mol-
ecule as a whole. The enkaptic interweaving of the atoms in the molecule does
not make them intrinsically part of the molecule, since this would abrogate the
internal sphere of action of the atoms.
The external enkaptic function of the oxygen and hydrogen atoms in the water
molecule indicates the functioning of the atoms in the molecule as totality via
the chemical bond. This presents us with three facts:
(i) First of all, we must distinguish the internal sphere of action of the atom.
(ii) Secondly, we find the chemical bond which leaves the atom nucleus un-
changed because it only reaches the outer electron shells, so that the
atom nuclei can in no way be part of the chemical bonding.1
(iii) Thirdly, we find the enkaptic structural whole of the water molecule
which enkaptically encompasses the atomic nuclei and bonds and as-
cribes to each its structural typical place.
This theory of enkaptic interlacement enables us to side-step the one-sided-
ness in an atomistic and a holistic structural theory of chemical bonding
within a molecule – and it also naturally reconciles apparently contradictory
experimental data, since it accounts both for the continued actual existence of
atoms in molecules (the point of orientation of atomism) and for the typical
unitary character of the molecule (the emphasis of holism) as a new totality
enkaptically founded in the structural nature of atoms.
1 Holism is therefore mistaken in its claim that the atom “loses” its identity in the molecule. Cf.
Van Melsen, 1975:349.

80
By briefly returning to the original and analogical meaning of spatial exten-
sion we can demonstrate the effect a mistaken conception of space had on the
intepretation of data. Whereas the mathematical space – in a purely abstract
and functional perspective – is, as we have observed, both continuous and in-
finitely divisible, physical space (by being bound to the quatum structure of
energy) is neither continuous nor infinitely divisible. For a number of years a
controversy existed between Millikan and Ehrenhaft. The former received in
1923 the Nobel prize for physics for his work which established that the elec-
tron is the fundamental and invisible unit for negative electrical charge. The
latter believed to have observed electrical chrages smaller than the electron.
Cushing remakrs that is appears as if Ehrenhaft misinterpreted the data be-
cause he still believed that electrical charge is continuously divisible
(Cushing, 2000:10).

81
82
Paradigms in Mathematics,
Physics, and Biology:
Their Philosophical Roots

Chapter IV
The Mosaic of philosophical stances in modern biology

Introduction
Of course the decisive basic philosophical problem facing biological scien-
tific thinking throughout its history has been that concerning the relationship
between the biotical aspect and the physico-chemical aspect of reality in
which the former is founded. Just as mathematics is often reduced to either the
arithmetical or spatial extreme, the history of biological thought is marked by
the tension between mechanistic and vitalistic approaches.
Do biotically qualified entities really exist, or can one exclusively and com-
pletely describe such things in terms of their constitutive physico-chemical
components? If the latter point of view is correct, then one has to ask whether
the distinction between ‘life’ and ‘death’ still makes any sense: if everything
is determined by the interaction among lifeless material constituents then the
difference between being alive and being liveless fades to an illusory periph-
eral phenomenon of the physical mass of reality.
Hans Jonas once strikingly typified the monistic forms of vitalism and
mechanicism. Unlike dualists, monists do not attempt to reduce reality philo-
sophically to two fundamental principles, but rather posit a single all-inclu-
sive and universally explanatory principle. We may therefore just as well
speak about pan-vitalism and pan-mechanicism. Already in Greek philosophy
we come across hulèzoism (zoè = life; hulè = matter): one of the indirectly pre-
served aphorisms of Thales supposedly was that everything lives. From this
perspective it is unimaginable that ‘life’ may not be the universal rule. Jonas
comments:
“In such a world view death is a riddle confronting one, a contradiction of the
natural, self-explanatory and understandable, of the common life” (1973:20).
The paragraph in which Jonas makes this statement treats pan-vitalism and
the problem of death (1973:19ff). On the other hand, people who think pan-
mechanistically emphasize the notion that living phenomena are peripheral in
an encompassingly homogeneous physical world. Quantitatively negligible in
83
the immeasurable expanse of cosmic matter, qualitatively an exception to the
rule of material characteristics, scientifically inexplicable in an explicable
physical natural reality, “life” becomes an insurmountable obstacle for
pan-mechanicism:
“Life as problem here indicates recognition of its strangeness in the mechani-
cal world, which is the real world; to explain it means – on this level of the uni-
versal ontology of death – to deny it, reducing it to a variant of the possibility
of the lifeless” (1973:23). This paragraph treats pan-mechanism and the prob-
lem of life (1973:22ff).
A first step out of this dilemma is to be found in making a distinction between
different modal aspects. The fundamental modal character of the physical and
biotical aspects remains only a functional condition for concrete entities
which continue to function in these (and other) aspects of reality in a typical
way . What is at issue here is the basic distinction between the aspects of real-
ity and the dimension of entities – a distinction continually disregarded by the
different points of view in biology which time and again speak of modal func-
tions as if they are concrete entities (thus the habitual reference to the origin of
life, rather than to the origin of living things).1 As an aspect of reality life has
to do with the how of entities, not their concrete what.
Phenomena of life are always linked to living entities which – as entities – can
never be encompassed by their biotical aspect. This has been a problem espe-
cially in the vitalistic tradition – which absolutises life and sees it as varieties
of an immaterial vital force. That it is impossible to consider the biotical as-
pect of living things detached from the intermodal coherence within which it
finds itself is confirmed repeatedly by the inherent analogies in the structure
of the biotical aspect. Even the expression vital force, so often used by vital-
ism (although often replaced with other terms like Gestaltungsfaktor or
Zentralinstanz), can never indicate the distinctiveness of the biotical aspect –
simply because it is unmistakably a physical analogy in the modal structure of
the biotical aspect. The term force reveals the original (non-analogical) modal
meaning of the physical aspect of energy-operation.
Biotically qualified entities
Biotically qualified or characterized entities belong to the realm of plants. The
distinction between the physical and biotical aspects is foundational to the en-
tity-structural distinction between the realm of physical things and the realm
of biotically qualified entities – i.e. the plant realm. In the absence of the nec-
essary modal distinctions it is still common for supporters of differing biologi-
cal points of view to use expressions like: living matter and dead matter. Ma-
terial things, however, are exclusively physically qualified and can therefore
not simultaneously have an internal biotical qualifying function.

1 The latin word for a thing, “res,” renders a service to the way in which one can designate the
attempt to treat a modal function as if it is an entity: this fallcy is known as reification.

84
It is not meaningful to refer to matter as being “dead”1 – for strictly speaking
only something that once was alive could later on be called “dead.”2
What guarantees the identity of living things?
Already the indication that certain things are alive implies their active func-
tioning in the biotical aspect of reality – i.e., their biotical subject function.
The fact that living things must, in a thermodynamic sense, be considered
open systems, moreover indicates that every living thing in distinction from its
qualifying biotical aspect also has a physical aspect. This is the topic of the
well-known book of Erwin Schrödinger: What is life? The physical aspect of
the cell (1955). Any living entity does have subject functions in the first three
aspects of reality as well – namely the aspects of number, space and move-
ment. For example, linked to the question whether living things can move by
themselves we find another important distinction in biological systematics,
namely that between plants and animals.3 The continuity (endurance) of life
of a plant can be determined in coherence with the kinematic function of liv-
ing entities. Apart from the proportions or spatial form of living things, their
spatial function is also prominently exhibited in expressions like bio-milieu or
Umwelt. The term Umwelt gained prominence especially owing to the biolog-
ical thinking of Jacob von Uexküll (cf. e.g. Von Uexküll & Kriszat, 1970). A
living thing is furthermore a unity in the diversity of its organic life processes
– if these various processes are not bound together as a unity, the living entity
disintegrates and dies.
Since living things maintain, in thermodynamic terms, a flowing equilibrium
in which order is withdrawn from the environment (to which Schrödinger re-
fers as negative entropy), it can be said that living things maintain themselves
in a state of high statistical improbability: in typical growth processes living
entities even continually increases their internal order.
Of course it cannot be considered to be the distinctive characteristic of living
things, since several non-living entities and porcesses – including flames and
glaciers – are also open systems in a thermodynamic sense. Only when we
take into account the qualifying biotical subject function of living things can
we uncover their distinctive characteristic in comparison with material
things. This qualifying function determines the biotical identity of living
things. According to the mechanistic point of view in biology, however, living
things are only complex interactive systems in which, in accordance with the
nature of open systems, continuing metabolic processes (anabolism and
catabolism) occur.
Remark: Since Descartes modern philosophy and biology is acquainted
with a machine model. Although we may think that this model consti-
1 Oparin, for example, following the dialectical materialistic approach of Engels, does that
without hesitation.
2 Von Weizsäcker explicitly highlights this insight – 1993:32: “Die Steine sind unbelebt. Man
sollte aber nicht sagen, sie seien tot. Tot sein kann eigentlich nur etwas das gelebt hat.”
3 This question regarding their mobile capacities appeals to the typical function of plants or an-
imals within the kinematic aspect.

85
tutes a straightforward reduction – even of the human being – to “na-
ture,” the implicit technicistic undertones of this model are lost sight
of. The nature of a machine ought te be scrutinized first, because a ma-
chine only originated in the course of human civilization. Van
Weizsäcker correctly says: “Thinking nature – and with it the human
being – as a machine, subjects nature and with it the human being to a
specific industiral mode of thought, that of designability. Not the re-
duction of the human being to nature is the mistake here, but the reduc-
tion of nature to the structural properties of a very specific human
artefact.”1
Thus from a mechanistic point of view a living thing has a physico-chemical
identity constituted by its atoms, molecules, and macro-molecules. Which of
these physico-chemical components should however be considered constitu-
tive of this supposed physico-chemical identity of living things: currently
present atoms, molecules, and macro-molecules, those present years ago, or
those which will be present a few years hence!?2 When living things are
physicalistically reduced to their material constituents, their biotical identity
is necessarily lost – since the supposed elements of identity continually vary.
Once the biotical function of living things is taken into account, it is even pos-
sible to claim that a living thing, biotically considered, is in a stable state (re-
ferred to as health), while simultaneously claiming – without any contradic-
tion – that physico-chemically considered (with a view to the flowing equilib-
rium of its physical-chemical constituents) it exists in an unstable state. If the
physical-chemical substratum of living things approaches a state of higher
statistical probability, biotical instability increases as a sign of the final pro-
cess of dying.
From the perspective of his organismic biology von Bertalanffy strikingly in-
dicates the cul-de-sacs of the mechanistic point of view which eliminates the
biotical function of life processes:

“These processes, it is true, are different in a living, sick or dead dog; but the
laws of physics do not tell a difference, they are not interested in whether dogs
are alive or dead. This remains the same even if we take into account the latest
results of molecular biology. One DNA molecule, protein, enzyme or hor-
monal process is as good as another; each is determined by physical and chem-
ical laws, none is better, healthier or more normal than the other” (1973:146).
1 “Die natur und dann damit den Menschen als Machine zu denken, unterwirft die Natur and
damit den Menschen einer spezifisch industriellen Denkweise der Planbarkeit. Nicht die
Reduktion des Menschen auf die Natur ist hier die Fehler, sondern die Reduktion der Natur
auf the Struktureigenschaften einbes sehr speziellen Menschenwerks” (Van Weizsäcker,
1993:38).
2 Jones et al points out that all “the atoms of our body, even of our bones, are exchanged at least
once every seven years. All the atoms in our face are renewed every six months, all our red
blood cells every four months and 98% of the protein in the brain in less than a month. Our
white blood cells are replaced every ten days and most of the pancreas cells and one-thir-
teenth of all our tissue proteins are renewed every 24 hours” (1998:40).

86
The origin of living things – a biological boundary question
Although the view that living things could spontaneously emerge out of life-
less matter (generatio spontanea) has been known since Greek antiquity, it is
no longer accepted in modern times by any natural scientist – inter alia. due to
the work of Pasteur. Nonetheless the mechanistic (or rather: physicalist) per-
spective must make at least one exception: the origin of the first living entity
under circumstances entirely alien to those known to us today.
The oldest known fossils of living entities are those of unicellular algae –
found near Barberton in South Africa. By means of the half-life of radio-ac-
tive substances the age of these Archaeosphairoïdes barbertonensis have
been calculated as approximately 3 100 million years (cf. Schopf, W. & Barg-
hoorn, 1967:508ff).
Since living entities, considered physico-chemically, function on the basis of
both (enzyme) protein and nucleic acid (DNA), the mechanistic point of view
is obliged to presume that initially there must be a close relationship between
protein and DNA. Already in 1971, however, Orgel and Sulston comment in
this regard: “This approach leads to new difficulties so severe that it has never
been carried very far” (1971:91). They continue with the striking observation
that “progress” can only be recorded in this regard when characteristics are at-
tributed to protein and DNA “which have not been demonstrated experimen-
tally, and which usually seem implausible” (1971:91).
These comments actually refer back to ideas initially (and independently) de-
veloped by Haldane (already in 1928) and the Russian Oparin (cf. 1953, chap-
ters 4-7: pp.64-195). The assumptions of the Oparin-Haldane approach even-
tually turned out to be questionable. That the initial atmosphere of the earth
was mainly composed of hydrogen, methane, ammonia and water vapor. In
particular Oparin holds that carbon “made its first appearance on the Earth’s
surface not in the oxidized form of carbon dioxide but, on the contrary, in the
reduced state, in the form of hydrocarbons” (1953:101-102).
Silver points out that there is at present “no evidence that the atmosphere was
reducing (methane and hydrogen)” and remarks that “the prevalent opinion at
the moment is that the Earth’s atmosphere, at the time that life emerged, was
mainly carbon dioxide and nitrogen” (1998:344). The role of methane is also
unacceptable in the Oparin story since it is one of the components of natural
gas which is produced by the “effect of millions of years of pressure and heat
acting on prehistoric plant material” (Silver, 1998:344). Although the Hal-
dane-Oparin conjecture was kept alive for a considerable time, supported by
the experiments done by Stanley Miller (from Chicago) in 1953, it does not
bring us closer to an understanding of the mystery of the genesis of the living
cell. With regard to Miller’s experimentation Silver remarks:
“The Haldane-Oparin hypothesis is out of fashion. Of the forty or so simple
molecules that would be needed to form a primitive cell, the experiment pro-
duces two. It is worth bearing in mind that glycine contains only ten atoms and
alanine, thirteen. The simplest nucleotide contains thirty atoms. The probabil-
ity that a given large molecule will be produced by chance from small mole-
cules, by sparks, falls drastically as the molecular size increases. It has to be

87
realized that even if heat, radiation, and lightning, on the young Earth, had pro-
duced all the amino acids and nucleotides needed for present forms of life, the
gap between an aqueous solution of these emolecules and a living cell is
stipendous. It’s a question of organization: in the absence of a guiding intelli-
gence, presentday scientists are not doing very well. For the moment, let’s
show the Miller experiment to the side door and see who is next in line in the
waiting room” (Silver, 1998:345).
In neo-Darwinist thought natural selection receives much prominence.1 A
similar story is used to explain the origin of the first living entities: by means
of selection the accidental emergence of organic combinations (amino acids,
nucleic acid, enzymes, etc.) supposedly gave rise to the formation of repro-
ductive units, virus-like forms, proto-organisms and eventually true living
cells. In view of physical laws, Von Bertalanffy, amongst others, also
questions this construction:
“In contrast to this it should be pointed out that selection, competition and
‘survival of the fittest’ already presuppose the existence of self-maintaining
systems; they therefore cannot be the result of selection. At present we know
no physical law which would prescribe that, in a ‘soup’ of organic compounds,
open systems, self-maintaining in a state of highest improbability, are formed.
And even if such systems are accepted as being ‘given’, there is no law in
physics stating that their evolution, on the whole, would proceed in the direc-
tion of increasing organization, i.e. improbability. Selection of genotypes with
maximum offspring helps little in this respect. It is hard to understand why,
owing to differential reproduction, evolution should have gone beyond rab-
bits, herring or even bacteria, which are unrivalled in their reproduction rate”
(1973:160-161).
Those who have respect for scientific modesty may do well to reflect upon a
remark made by Haldane in discussion with Silver: “I had a long conversation
with J.B.S. Haldane, which started off with politics and ended with science.
When I questioned him about evolution, one of his remarks sparked my inter-
est, and sent me to the library that evening: ‘Evolution’s not the problem. Life
is’ Then he said, ‘Oparin and I once had an idea about that, but we’ll never
know the real answer’ ” (Silver, 1998:353).
Are viruses a transitional form between material and living entities?
Viruses consist of nucleic acid (either RNA or DNA) housed in a mantle of
protein and occasional lipids. In 1935 W.M. Stanley succeeded in purifying
and crystalizing the tobacco mosaic virus. Viruses are only able to multiply
(and in the process act in a deformative way as parasites) in living cells. We
know nothing about the actual origin of viruses, which means that the possi-
bility that they could be reduced micro-organisms, or genes dismantled from
the cell-structure, or products of cell metabolism, remain speculative. Thus
the supposed in-between-position of viruses remains problematic.
What is remarkable about the “in-between-position-hypothesis” is that it
starts off from the distinction: material things and living things. That is why
1 Darwin already developed the theory that since far more descendants are born than could sur-
vive, a continual struggle exists in which only the best equipped “organism” makes the grade
– out of which gradually new kinds emerge.

88
the question is thus posed: is a virus living or is it only a macro-molecular ma-
terial structure? Since it can reproduce inside a true living cell, it is suggested
that it could maintain an in-between-position. In reality, however, we once
again run into the presuppositions of scientific distinctions. All scientific dis-
tinctions, after all, presuppose the whole human being with all one’s pre-sci-
entific experience of reality. The diversity implied in this experience is only
made explicit by means of modal abstraction, e.g. when we distinguish be-
tween the physical and biotical aspects of reality. This distinction, however. is
embedded in our pre- (or rather non-) scientific experience of reality – and
particularly in the difference encountered between material and plantlike
things (by means of entity-oriented abstraction). Before scientists (whether
philosophers or special scientists) can investigate the nature and characteris-
tics of plants, they must first, by means of their non-scientific experience, gain
insight into the qualitative difference in kind between plants and material
things. The question: what is botany? after all is a philosophical presup-
positional question of botany as a special science.
Although we would be inclined to claim that botanists are indeed able to say
what a plant really is, this privilege actually must ultimately be denied them,
since, if they did not already in their non-scientific concrete experience of re-
ality have had the ability to distinguish (e.g. by focusing on the differences be-
tween matter, plants, and animals), then they may well have been studying
material things or animals in the mistaken belief that they were studying
plants! There can be no denial that scientific thought rests on our non-scien-
tific understanding of distinctness. Without this foundation it simply cannot
function.
The important implication of this insight into the founding role of our non-sci-
entific understanding of distinctions in this regard is this: a particular entity
can only be either (non-living) material in nature or (biotically) alive. This of
course bears decisive implications for the question of whether a virus is living
(i.e. plantlike) or non-living (i.e. material). Stating the question in this manner
already implies that the answer cannot be ambivalent – and in both cases there
can be no question of any in-between position.
This “transition problem” between non-living and living things points to-
wards the far greater problem caused in modern biology by the evolutionary
theory of Charles Darwin.
Since Darwin’s notions began to gain biological support, it has become a mat-
ter of course in modern biological literature to talk of evolution in the sense of
an all-encompassing development across all borders and distinctions which
can supposedly still be found today in the living world. The categorizations to
which we can come by only paying attention to currently living plants and ani-
mals is known as the natural system (abbreviated as NS). The central philo-
sophical question is whether the NS can be used as the foundation for some
sort of evolutionary theory or whether one or another evolutionary theory
should not rather be used as the foundation for a reasoned categorization of
the NS. Reflection on this foundational issue however soon comes in contact
89
with a traditional philosophical conflict in which modern biologists have
largely taken sides – in favour of nominalism.
Nominalist structural understanding in modern biological literature
When G.G. Simpson distinguishes in one of his works between the physical
sciences and biology he characterizes the former as largely typological and
idealistic:
“the physical sciences are for the most part typological and idealistic. I mean
by that, that they usually deal with objects and events as invariant types, not as
individuals with differing characteristics” (1969:8).
This approach is according to him completely inadequate for the study of phe-
nomena belonging to the biotical levels: “for phenomena special to the biolog-
ical levels” (1969:8). What strikes one in this statement by Simpson, is that he
distinguishes between two types of phenomena, namely physical and biotical
phenomena (although the latter is mistakenly referred to as biological). In or-
der to arrive at an identification of biotical phenomena where a typological
(and even idealistic) method would be of no use, Simpson uses exactly a typo-
logical method – a striking internal contradiction: biology can function non-
typologically if and only if it is typologically founded!
The fundamental principle of intra-biological research is formulated by Simp-
son as follows: “Organisms are not types and do not have types” (1969:8-9).
The main ground for this statement is the claim that organisms are individuals
“and no two are likely ever to be exactly alike” (1969:9). This argument al-
ready betrays Simpson’s view with regard to the relationship between physi-
cal law and physical individuality. Since physical subjects are according to
him studied in physics only as “objects and events” with “invariant types”
(1969:8), it follows that biology, which studies organisms in their individual-
ity only, cannot make use of any typological method.
Simpson’s approach typically descends from classical mechanistic physics
(see the previous chapter in this regard). In classical physics physical subjects
had been consistently reduced to the law-side of reality (in a rationalist man-
ner). There is nonetheless no conflict between what modern physicists know
and the attribution of individuality to physical subjects such as atoms. Should
one maintain that physically-characterized entities have individuality al-
though they are correlated with universally valid physical laws, the question
arises why this could not be the case with biotically and psychic-sensitively
characterized entities (such as plants and animals).
Apparently without noticing Simpson contradicts his own view that organ-
isms do not belong to any type when he reflects on the typical characteristics
of a human being. In this regard he refers, without reserve, to mouseness and
man-ness (1969:88). Mouseness and man-ness, however, allude to the struc-
tural preconditions which entities must meet before they can be known as
mice and human beings. Structural preconditions are no less real because they
do not themselves have a concrete individual identity.1
1 The conditions for being green are not themselves green – green things simply meet these
conditions by being green.

90
Since Darwin however many biologists are inclined to dismiss any idea of
structure and universality. This is done since the history of the origin of the
plant and animal world must supposedly be encompassed in a structureless
evolutionary continuum. Even the distinction between plant and animal is
considered a mere convention, merely arbitrary names (nomina) given to an
unlimited number of concretely individual living entities. The universality
implied by these names have no foundation in things outside the human mind
– this universality is purely a product of human thought. The epistemological
position of nominalism rests on cosmological presuppositions found already
in Greek philosophy, but which only became dominant in modern biological
thought since Darwin.
Over and against the nominalist techniques of classification used in many bi-
ology texts, mention is sometimes made of the older and supposedly outdated
idealistic morphology of Ray, Linnaeus and others. There are nonetheless still
important 20th century representatives of this morphology, including E.
Dacqué (cf. 1935, 1940, 1948), W. Troll (1949, 1951 and 1973), K. Lothar
Wolf (1951) and W. Leinfeller (1966). According to Troll the foundation of
comparative morphology is to be found in ideas (in the platonic sense) which
serve as ordering “inner articulations of our intuition” by means of which
types as “Urbildliche Einheiten” (primal imagery units) become study sub-
jects (cf. Ungerer 1966:232). Troll partially reaches back to the thinking of
J.W. Goethe – the Romantic poet and natural philosopher. In his biological in-
vestigations, largely concerned with morphology, Goethe emphasized the
character of “Gestalt” – form in an almost platonic sense – although he shifted
the emphasis to the factual side of reality, since he did not see the “Gestalt” as
rooted in the law, but rather the law in the “Gestalt.”
In idealist morphology a primal leaf or primal plant is designed in which cer-
tain basic typological characteristics are present. Zimmerman engages in a di-
alogue with this idealist morphology in his Evolution und Naturphilosophie
(Berlin 1968). He points out that Troll continues to believe that morphology
determines the possibility of the descent and not the other way around:
“It is not the descent which is decisive in morphology, but rather the opposite:
morphology has to decide about the possibility if descent.”1
It is possible to believe that the problems of the NS should serve as the founda-
tion of any possible theory of descent without being a supporter of idealist
morphology. Portmann comments for instance that “few biologists still con-
sider that systematics is the foundation of evolutionary theory, that this is the
certain, that which we know, while evolutionary theory is what we suspect”
(1965:10).
It is possible, without supporting either the argument or point of departure of
idealist morphology, to agree that the existing structural diversity of our con-
temporary experience of reality is of decisive importance with regard to the
1 “Es is nicht die Dezendenz, welche in der morphologie entscheidet, sondern umgekehrt: die
Morphologie hat über die Möglichkeit der Dezendenz zu entscheiden” (Zimmermann
1968:49).

91
question of descent of any existing living entity. Exactly in this sense the pres-
ent is the key to our understanding of the past. The geologist J.R. Van de Fliert
even goes so far as to say that the doors to the past can only open to the extent
that the keys of the present fit them. He mentions the example of a number of
old fossils of the pre-Cambrium (more than 600 million years ago):
“These fossils consisted of imprints of animals, which probably had not pos-
sessed any hard parts, and which in part could be determined because of close
resemblance with the structure of living jelly-fish, worms, and other animals.
Some of these fossil structures, however, are so far completely unknown in
living animals or plants and as a result they are enigmatical, ‘problematica’. In
the absence of any structural link with the present they could not be attributed
to any known phylum.”1
The existing structural diversity in the plant and animal realms would clearly
limit the construction of family trees in evolutionary theory. Whoever
relativizes the NS in a nominalist sense to a structureless line of descent, how-
ever, chooses in principle for a chaotic brew in which every taxonomy of liv-
ing things becomes either impossible in principle, or at least entirely arbitrary.
But the plant and animal realms are entirely meaningfully divisible, barring
only the instances where our scientifically developed criteria for distinction
are still insufficient. (Think for instance of the protista, which includes algae,
fungi, mucus fungi, and protozoa, of all of which it cannot be said with cer-
tainty whether they are plants or animals. These problems do not however
relativize the fact that each of these protista is either plantlike or animal-like).
Structureless continuity versus structural discontinuity
A core concept in nominalist evolutionary theory is summarized in the word
variability. Think for instance of the comment by Simpson, mentioned above,
that physics is concerned with invariant types while biology is concerned with
changeable individual organisms. The fundamental question concerns the re-
lationship between constancy and variability. The stronger tendency in evolu-
tionary circles is to choose for a complete variability rather than any struc-
tural constancy. In idealist morphology a choice is apparently made for a (pla-
tonically influenced) understanding of constancy on the opposite extreme end
of the spectrum of options. The problem, however, is that the concept vari-
ability only makes sense when delimited by some or other typicality or con-
stancy. Here we come across a further analogy of the indissoluble coherence
between the kinematic and physical aspects of reality. Biotic constancy and
biotic dynamics are ontologically considered equitable – to emphasize the one
over the other would entail disregarding the uniqueness of either the
kinematic or the physical aspects (cf. the more extensive founding of this
insight in the previous chapter).
Eisenstein correctly points out that the term constancy encompasses the con-
cept of variability also in biology in the sense that variation is only possible
within limits (1975:278). Van de Fliert comments in addition that the quanti-
1 The Christian and Science, unpublished presentation given at Calvin College, Grand Rapids,
1969, pp.26-27.

92
tative can only be understood as something determined by the qualitative:
“More or less of this remains this and does not become that” (1969:28).

Whoever emphasizes variability has difficulty answering the following ques-


tion: If living entities during the past three thousand million years have been
governed by a universal evolutionary law so that they developed in a globally
progressive way towards the human being, it cannot be explained why there
still are, apart from the highly evolved animals, such primitive entities as bac-
teria, algae, mosses, amoebae, worms, etc. – why did the evolved animals not
also remain stuck on these original levels? Eisenstein writes: “The simulta-
neous co-existence of the greatest variety of life forms, from amoeba to man,
anyway proves that from the perspective of nature these are all equitable and
equally viable (existenzfähig = able to exist), without any necessity of further
development” (1975:245). The zoologist W. H. Thorpe comments: “[i]t
seems to me that there is an outstanding problem raised by our discussion –
namely the problem of fixity in evolution. What is it that holds so many
groups of animals to an astonishingly constant form over millions of years?
This seems to me to be the problem now – the problem of constancy; rather
than of change. And here one must remember that the genetic systems which
govern homologous structures are continually changing. Thus the control sys-
tem is continually changing but the system controlled is constant, and con-
stant over millions of years. This problem seems to me to stick out like a sore
thumb in modern evolutionary theory.”1

Within the framework of the reformational philosophical tradition an attempt


is made to avoid the partialities of both nominalist and idealist (realist) struc-
tural ideas. Just as little as a modal physical and typical entity structural law
should be confused with any subject function or concrete physical subject,
just as little should the structural types of plants and animals be confused with
particular concrete plants or animals. All plants and animals belong respec-
tively to the realms of structurally either biotically or sensitive-psychically di-
rected ordered types. As true law types these belong to the law side of created
reality, in which admitedly a relatively constant dynamics finds expression,
but which as law types cannot be reduced to or equated with transient individ-
ual living plants or animals. These relatively constant ordering types can only
be realized in the course of time in transient individual creatures which as
correlate is subject to the ordering types.

The recognition of this correlation of the law and factual sides of reality is a
stumbling block for the structereless evolutionary continuum construed in a
nominalistic fashion.

To form a better image of the nature of the divergence between different di-
rections in modern biology we must consider the factual limitations set to the
religion of continuity by paleontology.
1 A discussion comment after the contribution of L. von Bertalanffy (Change or Law) in the
collection: Beyond Reductionism, edited by A. Koestler and J.R. Smythies, London 1972:77.

93
Continuity of descent?
Since the first appearance of Darwin’s notorious writings much faith has been
placed in the substantiatory power of paleontological fossil findings – a cer-
tainty had grown that the necessary missing links would eventually be found.
It was a conviction that paleontology would provide direct access to the key
moments in the evolutionary history of plants, animals, and human beings.
The paleontologist D.B. Kitts points out, however, that the spatial distribution
and temporal sequence of organisms with which paleontology works is
founded in the ordering principles of geology, and can therefore not be en-
compassed in any biological theory: “Thus the paleontologist can provide
knowledge that cannot be provided by biological principles alone. But he can-
not provide us with evolution. We can leave the fossil record free of a theory
of evolution. An evolutionist, however, cannot leave the fossil record free of
the evolutionary hypothesis” (1974:466). The danger continues to exist that
biologists are convinced of the acceptability of the evolutionary hypothesis by
a theory which is already inherently evolutionistic: “For most biologists the
strongest reason for accepting the evolutionary hypothesis is their acceptance
of some theory that entails it” (Kitts 1974:466).
A core paleontological problem facing the various trends is the presence of
striking gaps and discontinuities in the fossil record. G.G. Simpson openly
mentions this factual state of affairs: “moreover, it is a fact that discontinuities
are almost always and systematically present at the origin of really high cate-
gories” (1961:361) and he emphasizes several pages later “the point that for
still higher categories discontinuity of appearance in the record is not only fre-
quent but also systematic. Some break in continuity always occurs in catego-
ries from orders upwards” (1961:366).1
The quest for missing links has always been a hopeful glance at paleontology
on the part of evolutionary theory – an expectation which has apparently not
remained entirely unrequited, since the much sought after forms appears to
have been found between the different classes of vertebrates. Four forms are
of importance in this regard. The link between certain fishes (Crossopterygii)
and amphibians is looked for in the Ichthyostega (first finds in Greenland in
1931) which belong to the Tetrapoda (quadruped vertebrates, including the
amphibians, reptiles, birds, and mammals) but still have a true fish tail (cf.
Kuhn-Schnyder 1967:350-352). Since the Ichthyostega are quadrupeds, they
are placed with the amphibians (they are fishlike amphibians). Over and
against this bottom end of the amphibians we find at the top end reptile-like
amphibians, the Seymoria (first finds 1904). D.M.S. Watson comments: “The
whole effect of its structure is that of a mosaic of separate details, some com-
pletely amphibian, some completely reptilian, and very few, if any, showing a
passage leading from one to the other.”2
1 The basic systematic classification consists of the following: realm, phylum, class, order,
family, genus, and species.
2 Quoted by Kuhn-Schnyder, e.: 1967:357.

94
A further form, the placement of which brought about interesting problems, is
the Ictidosauria (discovered in 1932) which has both reptilian and mammalian
characteristics. Such an Ictidosaurier can be seen in the Bloemfontein mu-
seum (described by A.W. Crompton as Diarthrognathus broomi). Its skull has
both a reduced articulare-quadratum-joint and a dental-squamosum-joint. The
presence of a dental-squamosum-joint is a typically mammalian characteristic
and caused this form to be thought of as a reptiloid mammal. The classifica-
tion of Hopson and Kitching revised this classification since they grouped the
Ictidosauria with the Cynodontia (a group developed mammaloid reptiles of
the Permian and Triassic eras). In the class of reptiles (Reptilia) we therefore
meet the order of mammaloid reptiles (Therapsida), the suborder Cynodontia,
the family of Tritheledontidea (a group of highly developed, carnivorous
small cynodonts including the Ictidosauria), and the genus Pachygenelus
which is the same as the Diarthrognathus broomi of Watson of the late Trias-
sic (red riverbed and cave sandstone strata in S.A.) (cf. Hopson and Kitching
1972:76). The provisional result is therefore that we are still dealing with a
reptile, although a mammaloid reptile.
Widely differing evaluations have been the fate of especially the Archaeop-
teryx (discovered already in 1861), which has both reptilian and avian charac-
teristics. Although G.G. Simpson and O.H. Schindewolf largely concur with
regard to the discovered state of affairs, they approach the factual information
from radically divergent points of departure. Schindewolf is of the opinion
that the transition from the class of reptiles to the class mammals found ex-
pression in the appearance of Archaeopteryx.1 This animal was a bird with
wings which could fly, the first representative of a new class – the Aves
(birds). In this regard Simpson comments: “Schindewolf disposes of it by say-
ing that it is ‘a true bird’ and so cannot close the discontinuity between reptiles
and birds. But if we did not know that Archaeopteryx had feathers, or if we
found its last featherless ancestors, then of course we would have ‘a true rep-
tile’. The break can be maintained in words even if it is closed by specimens”
(Simpson 1960:370, cf. p. 342). M. Grene typifies Simpson’s approach as fol-
lows: “Simpson says Archaeopteryx was a species like any other, originating
by normal speciation from other reptilian species; only when we look back
over the whole vista of evolution do we say, this particular species was the
first of what turned out to be a new class” (1974:130). Exactly in view of this
apparently inevitable presence of gaps in the paleontological record Stephen
Gould and his followers have begun during the past two decades to scramble
backwards with their theory of punctuated equilibria.2
All the supposed transitional forms mentioned above therefore do not qualify
as true transitional forms in the sense of an entirely continuous evolutionary
1 Schindewold is a great German paleontologist, whose main work is Grundfragen der
Paläontologie 1950, cf. 1969.
2 As an aside we must mention just how major a problem the development of reptilian scales
into bird feathers is for evolutionary theory. In addition no fossils have been found which can
be considered as ancestors of currently living birds, while the fourth Archaeopteryx was dis-
covered in 1956, namely Archaeopteryx lithographica.

95
process. That is why D.B. Kitts can still say that “Evolution requires interme-
diate forms between species and paleontology does not provide them”
(1974:467). He points out that Darwin hoped that continuing fossil finds
would fill the gaps and then remarks: “But most of the gaps are still there a
century later and some paleontologists were no longer willing to explain them
away geologically” (p.467). This fact gives much room for the acknowledg-
ment of structural discontinuities in the paleontological record – the paleon-
tological data is entirely reconcilable with the hypothetical presupposition of
fundamental (relatively constant) types of order within the plant and animal
realms which as true law types make variability possible in the first place.
The current evaluation of the supposed transitional forms is even more com-
plicated by the existence of living “transitional forms.” One example is the
well-known platypus of eastern Australia, Tasmania, New Guinea, and the
Salawati islands. Mammalian characteristics (Theria) are decisive in the
placement of these animals in the subclass Prototheria and the order of
Monotremata. The platypus is one of two families in the order of
Monotremata and consists of only one species of platypus, namely
Ornithorhynchus anaticus. What is so remarkable about this kind of mammal
is that apart from mammalian characteristics (such as the dental-squa-
mosum-joint, enucleate red corpuscles, presence of a diaphragm, only left
aorta, hair, milk glands, three ear ossicles), it does not only have reptilian
characteristics (eggs with yolk and shell, no ear muscle, etc.), but also avian
characteristics (similarly to the platypus birds lay eggs, have a beak and a
cloaca into which the intestine, urine and genitalia discharge). As is often the
case with living fossils platypi are highly specialized in certain particular
characteristics while remarkably showing no further developmental trend to-
wards either birds or more typical mammals. According to Eisenstein platypi
therefore have a right and potential to existence equal to that of birds and other
mammals (1975:251).
In this regard we must point out furthermore that various paleontologists are
struck by the fact that the so-called intermediary forms are by no means truly
intermediate since various typical characteristics are present intact next to one
another (compare Watson’s comment on the Seymoria above). Schindewolf
refers to these as mixed types (Mischtypen), while G. de Beer in honour of
D.M.S. Watson refers to the mosaïc figure of these forms in terms of the Wat-
son rule. This rule states that in the transitional area between two levels of de-
velopment mosaïc figures appear in which each organ appears to have an evo-
lutionary tempo of its own and in which the relevant characteristics develop
sharply independently of one another (cf. Kuhn-Schnyder 1967:362). The
formulation of this rule however presupposes evolutionary transitions even
though the tale of continuity remains threatened since true intermediate forms
simply do not fit into the picture it paints.
In this context a distinction is made between levels of development (Stufen)
which must be distinguished in phylogenetics from true lines of descent
(Ahnenreihe). In the strictest sense of the word it is impossible to conclusively
and exactly prove any line of descent. Even if it is taken into account that the
96
“primeval bird” Archaeopteryx is similar to modern birds in its possession of
feathers, in other regards similar to true reptiles (e.g. in its possession of a
reptiloid tail), and that it appeared paleontologically at a moment which pro-
vides a link with comparable reptiles (Archaeopteryx is about 30 million years
younger than the comparable Pseudosuchier) while occurring relatively
shortly before the appearance of birds in the Crustacean, there is still no con-
clusive proof that contemporary birds have descended from Archaeopteryx.1
According to Walter Zimmerman it is more possible rather to show that cer-
tain fossils are not true ancestors of later forms. This is true even of what ap-
pears to be the most solidly founded lines of descent (1967:100). The general
conclusion reached by Zimmerman is formulated by him as follows: “In short,
the ancestral and typical lines of phylogeneticists are not only on occasion but
always what O. Abel on occasion referred to as ‘level lines’. The fossil forms
which we encounter in the past, as well as current organisms represent in the
characteristics which interest us the developmental level which the particular
ancestor involved had reached.”2
The implication is that the fundamental discipline of evolutionary theory in
this context is the phylogenetics of distinctive characteristics (Merkmals-
phylogenie), which provides the foundation of the supposed lines of descent
(Sippen-phylogenie) (cf. Zimmerman 1967:103). The contribution of Dar-
win’s original work, which is concerned exactly with the ‘origin of species’, is
clearly threatened when A. Meyer draws the radical conclusion that “There is
no phylogeny of species, but a phylogeny of the typological characteristics of
the species” (1964:60).
Before we consider the foundational philosophical question of the basic de-
nominator in modern biological thought, we must first cast a cursory glance at
the remarkable structural interlacement between the physical-chemical con-
stituent substances of living entities and that which we will describe below as
the living organism of e.g. a living cell. Since the cell is the smallest viable en-
tity known, it is a good starting point for this reflection.
The structure of a nuclear living cell
The uncritical scientific use of the term ‘life’ – as if it is a concrete quidity –
denies the modal nature of the biotic aspect of reality. After all, the earliest
fossil which appears on the paleontological horizon is by no means ‘life’,
since algae (or algae-like living things), have a biotical aspect amongst other
aspects. If the inarticulate practice of referring to life as an entity is consis-
tently carried to its conclusions, it would imply that an entity must be living in
all its articulations. This is the consistent point of view of the neo-Thomist
Hoenen. The Aristotelian-Thomistic substance concept requires of Hoenen to
reach this conclusion, since the substantial unity of a living thing would be
1 Walter Zimmerman openly acknowledges as much – cf. 1967:100.
2 “Kurz, die Ahnen- und Artenreihen der Phylogenetiker sind nicht nur gelegentlich, sondern
stets das, was O Abel ‘Stufenreihen’ genant hat. Die fossilen Formen, die wir in der
Vergangenheit auffinden, sowie die heutigen Organismen Repräsentieren in den uns
interessierenden Merkmalen die entwichlungsstufe, die damals der betreffende Ahn erreicht
hat” (1967:102).

97
suspended if independent non-living ingredients (with a matching substantial
form) were present therein. In Hoenen’s view the supposed substantial vital
unity of a living thing could never be a mixture of life and non-life.
Physical-chemical constituents in the living cell
Organic chemistry, but especially recent developments in biochemistry, con-
clusively determined over the past three decades that there are all sorts of
macro-molecular material structures present in a living cell. A brief synopsis
of the pertinent information which must be taken into account in this regard
follows.
The chemical components of protoplasm (nucleus and cytoplasm) are of pri-
mary interest. Although we find extremely complex and labile organic com-
pounds in both the nucleus and the cytoplasm, it is striking how relatively few
elements are used. The main ingredients are the four so-called organic ele-
ments: hydrogen (H), oxygen (O), nitrogen (N) and Carbon (C). Apart from
these the following inorganic elements can also be found: phosphorus, mag-
nesium, calcium, potassium, sodium, sulphur, iodine, iron, cobalt, manga-
nese, and zinc. A percentage indication of the various compounds in which
these elements are to be found looks as follows: water (on its own and in com-
pounds) 85-90%, protein 7-10% (albumin, histone, protamine, and nucleo-
protein), lipids (e.g. fats) 1-2%, other organic substances (carbohydrates)
1-1,5%, and inorganic substances 1-1,5%.
In most cells colloidal systems are found which represent a mixture of sub-
stances with chemical characteristics midway between true solutions and sus-
pensions. These surfaces have an enormous electrical charge which quickly
registers changes in temperature and electrical charge. A more liquid situation
is referred to as a sol state, and a more solid situation as a gel state.
The plasma of almost all cells is covered with a three-dimensional network of
pockets linked with a system of membranes. These pockets appear most com-
monly in the form of cysts or tubes – thence the so-called alveolar system
(cysts = alveola).1
In 1896 the Buchners discovered alcoholic ferments which serve a catalytic
function in cells, initially referred to as ‘zymase‘, it gradually became appar-
ent that it is a mixture of enzymes and co-enzymes.2
Protein refers to macro-molecules consisting of 20 different amino acids.
When an amino group (NH2) of one amino acid is linked with a car-
boxyl-group (COOH) of another amino-acid, a peptide bond (NH-CO-) is
formed – coupled with the release of water (H2O). Multiple amino acids are
bonded in this way into a macro-molecule – a polypeptide.
Enzymes have a protein structure built up out of amino acids and occasionally
occurs in their thousands in a particular cell. This promotes chemical reac-
tions in the cell, although each kind of enzyme catalyses only a limited num-
ber of reactions. Enzymes are very sensitive to abnormally high temperatures
– unlike inorganic catalysts, who normally perform better under warmer con-
1 Of course the membrane functions as an organ of the cell.
2 Co-enzymes are organic compounds which play an essential role in reactions catalyzed by en-
zymes, although it lacks the protein structure of enzymes.

98
ditions. The entire metabolism of the cell depends on the functioning of
enzymes.
In the nucleus of the cell nucleotides are formed through the bonding of a
sugar and a nitrogenous base on the one hand and a phosphorous acid-rem-
nant on the other. In this way polinucleotide chains are formed. In the nucle-
onic acid DNA (desoxyribonucleic acid) four nucleotides are found, namely
Adenine (A), Guanine (G), Cytosine (C), and Thymine (T). These spontane-
ously associate in the links A-T and G-C. Out of this mutual attraction
emerges two polinucleotide-strings with various possibilities. A series like
ATGACGT is complemented by a series TACTGCA.
The so-called genetic code concerns the rule in terms of which a polipeptide
series is linked to a given polinucleotide series. This linkage is made possible
by RNA – a nucleonic acid differing from DNA in that the T is replaced by
U(racil). To transfer the matrix of DNA to protein it appears that a combina-
tion of three letters is necessary in the DNA for every amino acid to be
formed.1 This means that some amino acids are correlated with more than one
triplet of nucleotides – i.e. different triplets are occasionally attached with
only one amino acid. The triplets UAA, UAG, and UGA appear to be inopera-
tive, since they are not correlated with any amino acids.
The two strings of nucleonic acids are shaped in a double helix structure (ac-
cording to the model of Watson and Crick, 1953), and have the ability of du-
plicating. When duplicating the two strings come apart and each nucleotide
attracts its counterpart out of the free nucleotides present in the environment,
so that the two new DNA spirals which come into existence are exact dupli-
cates of the single original. Due to chemical influences, Röntgen- or cosmic
radiation it is possible that one or more nucleotides can be added or left out,
which change the genetic information of the DNA-molecule. This ‘mistake’
can then be exactly copied – bringing about a ‘mutation’. Such mutations
could take the form of changes in single genes, in chromosomes, or even in a
number of chromosomes, and almost always has negative consequences.
In view of these negative consequences of mutations, neo-Darwinism was
forced to still make use of Darwin’s original notion of natural selection. When
climactic or other natural conditions change significantly, it is conceivable
that the otherwise disadvantaged mutant member of a species could turn out to
be advantaged under changed circumstances. In this manner nature selects
those living things which has the better chance of success in the struggle for
survival, due to mutations. The geneticist Th. Dobzhansky summarizes this
theory as follows: “Mutation alone, uncontrolled by natural selection, could
only result in degeneration, decay and extinction” (1967:41).
Further non-living ingredients of the cell includes the already mentioned
genes (localized in the chromosomes).2 During cell division a reduction in nu-
1 There are 20 amino acids and if we consider only two possible combinations of 4 DNA nu-
cleotides only 16 amino acids can be explained: 42 = 16. The mentioned nucleotides of A, G,
C, and T can however be arranged in 64 combinations of three: 43 = 64.
2 Chromosomes are threads in which the colourable substance in the nucleus of the cell visibly
contracts during the process of cell division (chroma = color).

99
cleonic plasma takes place, twice dividing the generative cells, while the chro-
mosomes only divide once. This process is called meiosis.1 Similar ingredi-
ents are the hormones and the ‘resting nucleus’, as well as the vacuoles, which
contains cell-sap and is delimited by a membrane. The latter does not occur in
the cells of bacteria and blue-green algae.
With regard to the unique manner in which the living cell functions in the
physical aspect of reality, Karl Trincher2 mentions the following four macro-
scopic characteristics (1985:336):
1) spatial macroscopy which defines the cell as a spatially delimited sur-
face;
2) temporal macroscopy, which determines the finite time in which the en-
ergy cycle of the cell occurs;
3) the isothermic nature of the cell, which is responsible for the constancy
of temperature throughout the cell;
4) the persistent positive difference between the higher internal tempera-
ture of the cell and the lower external temperature of the environment
adjacent to the cell surface.
Organelles – the different organs in the cell
The different organs in the cell can be considered true parts of the cell organ-
ism. Although the whole-parts relationship is a typically spatial relationship,
it receives in all living entities a typically biotical qualification. The distinc-
tive form characteristics of cells which emerge in the different ways in which
the cellular nucleus relates to its surrounding cytoplasm, were already studied
and classified in the thirties of the 20th century by the German biologist R.
Woltereck.3
The cellular nucleus is generally the (either round or ovoid) site of the DNA,
and serves, despite the mutual dependency of nucleus and cytoplasm, to initi-
ate the metabolism of the cell. The phenomenon of dual or multinucleic cells
does not in the least diminish the centeredness of the structure of cell – in
many protozoa this is only a passing stage related to procreation, serving the
same function as cellular division among metazoa. Those protozoa distin-
guished by cilia are known as Ciliophora and have a double nucleus – a
macro- (somatic) and a micro- (generative) nucleus. Bacteria and blue-green
algae have a diffuse nucleonic sphere rather than a proper nucleus.4 Bacteria
have no definitive nucleonic membrane between the cyto- and caryoplasm.
The centriole is a cell organ present in animal and a few lower plant cells. In
some cells the centriole tends to be positioned at the geometric centre of the
cell. In general it is however displaced by the nucleus and cytoplasmic prod-
ucts. When a cell is not engaged in mitosis, centrioles generally appear in
1 The number of chromosomes are for instance reduced from 46 to 23.
2 Dept. of medical physiology, University of Vienna.
3 Compare his Grundzüge einer allgemeinen Biologie, in which he distinguishes among
hylocentric, morphocentric and (in the case of animals) kinocentric structures in which the
typical centrality of a cell is expressed (1932:323-329).
4 Green algae of the genus Cloadophora have multinucleic cells.

100
pairs. Before initiating cellular division centrioles must first themselves
divide.
Ribosomes, which are mainly to be found in the cytoplasm, are the main site
of protein synthesis. The genetic message of the chromosomes is transferred
to the RNA of the ribosomes which is ultimately responsible for the produc-
tion of enzyme protein. Lysosomes – a term first used in 1955 – are granular
subcellular organs with an encompassing membrane, and contain particular
hydrolitic enzymes. When a cell is for instance damaged, this enzyme is re-
leased and breaks down the protein and nucleonic acid so that adjacent cells
can use these for the repair of such damage as occurred. In any process of dy-
ing (autolysis) cells and tissue are broken down by means of the lysosomic
enzymes.
Certain fibrous microtubes often play an important role in the formation of
cells, while microfilaments are organelles involved with the mobility of cells.
Mitochondria are granular cell organs of which the inner membrane functions
to “breathe” – making mitochondria the power stations of the cell. Energy in
foods (captured inter alia by means of the citric acid and Krebs cycles) is re-
captured by the mitochondria and transformed into adenosine triphosphate
(ATP) by means of phosphorilization. In this way energy is produced for vari-
ous cellular functions.
Bacillary bacteria are strikingly similar in shape to mitochondria, which has
prompted suggestions that mitochondria might initially have been independ-
ent prototrophic cells (cf. the comments of Roodyn and Wilkie 1968:53-57).
This suggestion is much relativized by the fact that the function of mitochon-
dria is dependent on the central and directive function of the cellular nucleus.
After 1965 direct biochemical research confirmed the universal presence of
DNA in mitochondria (MDNA). The basic composition of MDNA is more
homogeneous than that in the cellular nucleus, and appears to be relatively ge-
netic self-sufficient. Isolated mitochondria can synthesize DNA and MDNA
is even passed on the daughter cells without being broken down. Despite this
apparent independence, sufficient evidence remains for substantial nucleonic
control over the generation and collection of the ingredients of mitochondria.
The Golgi-complex, which is rich in lipids, apparently contains the secreting
function in the cell organism. Plastides contain a pigment and/or food re-
serves, and differ significantly from one kind of cell to another, although it is
absent in bacteria, blue-green algae, and fungi. Nucleoli, discovered by
Fontana in 1781, have a high protein content – especially phosphoric protein.
Other organelles include ‘fagozomes’ and ‘peroxyzomes’.
The quest for a basic denominator
Any consideration of the various schools of thought in modern biology is
made more difficult by the immense variety of disciplines and huge volume of
information relevant to such a consideration. Nonetheless, no school of
thought escapes certain fundamental structural requirements which deter-
mines and makes possible scientific thought in the first place. We discovered
already in the first chapter that scientific thought is a particular kind of
101
thought, namely deepened (disclosed or modally abstractive) logical thought.
The key moment of the logical aspect of our experience of reality is to be
found in the character of identification and distinction (identifying distinc-
tion/distinguishing identification). A scientific, subjectively logical thought-
act is by nature dependent on information about reality which can be identi-
fied and distinguished, and is as such determined and delimited by logical
norms which must be honoured in all logical thinking activities. The diversity
of reality cannot be encompassed by the logical aspect of reality – scientific
thought is always an engagement with a cosmic diversity which is trans-
logical. There are therefore apart from the logical norms for scientific thought
also cosmological norms, such as the norm of excluded antinomy which de-
mands that this diversity be honoured if such thought is not to succumb to
antinomy (anti-normativities, in distinction from mere logical contradictions).
It appears as if the idea of continuity in the dominant biological schools of
thought in itself already provides a denominator for consideration. Many
phylogeneticists who argue with a consistent nominalism would argue in the
first place that classificatory delimitations are entirely artificial since the ac-
tual line of descent consists of a structureless continuity. According to these
thinkers the recognition of certain structural arrangements (Gefügeord-
nungen) would not be in conflict with the nominalist conviction with regard to
the artificiality of particular delimitations. W. Zimmermann comments in this
regard that “In phylogenetic development the origin of a structural arrange-
ment and the emergence of limits to groups of organisms do not coincide in a
single phase. One may well recognize a structural arrangement while none-
theless being convinced as a ‘nominalist’ of the artificiality of limits. In lines
of descent (Ahnenreihe) it is entirely unnecessary for limits to appear. The
processes bringing about structural arrangements (with regard to a coherence
of descent) and those bringing about the current limits among living organ-
isms, may well be millions of years removed from each other. Whoever fails
to observe the distinction between these two phases, has not yet grasped
philogenetics” (1967:98).
Although Schindewolf recognizes only individuals as really existing entities,
apparently in line with the nominalist point of departure with regard to the
supposition of a structureless continuum he is nonetheless of the opinion that
the types systematically distinguished on all levels are not mere arbitrary fic-
tions, but are rather general concepts founded in objective factual data. He ap-
peals to the fact that among living things successive levels exists in accor-
dance with the degree of generality and the degree of similarity, in terms of
which it is possible to comparatively coordinate and subordinate the group-
ings of these layers in terms of the characteristic combinations present. Apart
from this he also appeals to the transitionless discontinuities among such
structures.1 On occasion he identifies his thought as idealistic morphology,
even though his emphasis on the temporal succession in the emergence of or-
ganizational forms in the history of the earth indicates a distance in principle
with regard to the metaphysical primeval forms of idealistic morphology. On
1 Cf. the exposition by Ungerer 1966:233 ff.

102
the other hand Schindewolf remains a hardened opponent of the idea of a
phylogenetic systematics.
Exactly in this regard a comparison with Simpson is worthwhile. Simpson
considers phylogenetics to be the basic discipline of biology within which he
then places the evolutionary structureless continuity (with the eventually arti-
ficial classification). According to Schindewolf the more general systematic
category appears first, and all differentiation and specialization can only take
place within this category. Schindewolf makes use of the presupposition of
discontinuous macro-mutation, the notion that nature is able to bring forth
truly new types, which he then elaborates in his theory of typostrophism
which appeals to paleontologically determined trends. The emergence of new
structural types1 Schindewolf calls typogenesis. In the typical development of
different levels typogenesis is generally followed by a a period of steady dif-
ferentiation and transformation, which leads to a directed (orthogenetic) de-
velopment of the particular structural type which Schindewolf calls typostasis
(the flourishing of the type). Eventually a period of degeneration and eventual
extinction follows – typolysis (cf. Ungerer 1966:235-236).
Conflicting views despite “the same facts”!
M. Grene points out that Simpson and Schindewolf accuse each other of es-
sentially the same or similar mistakes, making use of unnecessary and mysti-
fying presuppositions. She believes that each accepts as premise the negation
of the other’s conclusions – while hardly if at all differing with regard to the
facts: “Simpson, wedding paleontology to the statistical methods of popula-
tion genetics, sees a gradual change in populations such that the sharp divi-
sions of traditional morphology become false. Schindewolf, basing his theory
on the logical priority of morphology, concludes that gradualist, statistical
picture of neo-Darwinism is false. To put it very schematically; Simpson ar-
gues: the neo-Darwinian theory is true; morphology implies that neo-Darwin-
ism is not true; therefore morphology is wrong. Schindewolf argues: mor-
phology must first be accepted as true; morphology implies that the neo-Dar-
winian theory is wrong; therefore the neo-Darwinian theory is mistaken. Or to
put the matter another way, they agree on the major premise: traditional
morphology and neo-Darwinism are incompatible” (1974:132).
Referring to the theory of Schindewolf, D.B. Kitts writes: “It permits an ex-
planation of the fossil record as adequate as any other” (1974:469).2 From the
disagreement between Simpson and Schindewolf it is therefore clear that
there are trends in biology emphasizing either continuity or discontinuity. The
Noble laureate (1973) Konrad Lorenz rejects the mechanistic postulate of
continuity as sharply: “From events in the atom to those in the history of hu-
manity inorganic as well as organic developments occur in leaps. Even though
1 According to Schindewolf the Archaeopteryx is an example of such a new structural type,
since he considers it to be the first exemplar of a new class of vertebrates, namely birds.
2 Kitts refers to Simpson in this regard as follows: “Simpson did not provide compelling sup-
port for synthetic theory against Schindewolfian or Lamarckian, or any number of other theo-
ries both evolutionary and non-evolutionary” (1974:468).

103
some quantitatively summarized processes in this course of events might su-
perficially appear continuous, eventually it turns out to be as discontinuous as
the major qualitative changes in organic evolution, first clearly understood by
Hegel ...” (1973:186). This situation implies that the search for a common de-
nominator needs to continue in this direction: under what denominator is both
this continuity and discontinuity discussed?
Neo-Darwinism
The dominant neo-Darwinist synthetic evolutionary theory in principle
chooses for a physical basic denominator, even though increasing efforts are
made from this perspective to account for the qualitative differences which
emerged in the course of the continual evolutionary process. J. Huxley warns
against the “nothing but” trap into which many evolutionary and natural sci-
entific explanatory techniques fall: .".. if sexual impulse is at the base of love,
then love is regarded as nothing but sex; if it can be shown that man originated
from an animal, then in all essentials he is nothing but an animal. This, I re-
peat, is a dangerous fallacy. We have tended to misunderstand the nature of
the difference between ourselves and animals. We have a way of thinking that
if there is a continuity in time there must be a continuity in quality"
(1968:137).
Simpson also distinguishes between non-biotic and biotic levels (of organiza-
tion) and is convinced that it is preposterous “to base ... a concept of scientific
explanation wholly on the non-biological levels of the hierarchy and then to
attempt to apply it to the biological levels without modification” (1969:8).
Any treatment of this problem would according to Simpson have to avoid the
extremes of both vitalism and ‘physicism’ (p.21). Against an extreme
physicalist reductionism he openly states: “I think it fair to say that in this re-
spect, as truly biological investigation and an attempt to explain vital phenom-
ena, unmodified reductionism has failed” (1969:26). Because of this he re-
mains convinced that evolutionary organismal biology cannot be reduced “to
a philosophy taking account only of the physical, non-biological aspects of
the universe” (1969:7). Simpson rejects an extreme reductionism (physical-
ism), and speaks of the physical and biological aspects of reality. Does this
mean that he implies with this distinction an irreducibility in principle
between the physical and biotical aspects?
Apparently not, since when he says that the principles of evolutionary biology
(which otherwise do not contradict anything in physics) transcend the princi-
ples which can be deduced from non-living atoms and molecules, he still adds
“but without becoming anything other than naturalistic” (p.7). Only the con-
cept of organization in the end indicates that in which living and non-living
things differ: “It is the complexity and the kind of structural and functional as-
sembly in living organisms that differentiate them from non-living systems”
(1969:7). In Simpson’s view the biotical aspect emerges out of the organiza-
tional complexity of natural systems, which actually implies that the term “bi-
otical aspect” cannot be understood in the sense of irreducible ontic mode. Al-
though not stated in extreme reductionistic, or unmodified reductionistic
104
terms, Simpson still defends a form of physicalism, even if a physicalism in
which it appears as if the differences among various levels of organization are
taken into account.

Vitalism
Only in vitalism is a principled choice made for an alternative basic denomi-
nator, namely the biotical – even though not in the sense of what is referred to
in this text as an aspect or modality of reality. The father of neo-vitalism, Hans
Driesch, speaks of an immaterial vital force (to which he refers as entelechie
or psychoide), which would be far more than just the biotical aspect of reality.
Without surrendering the validity of the mechanistic analysis of matter, and
without denying the causal claims of the classical humanistic scientific ideal
with regard to nature, Driesch tried to apply the concept of natural law (in just
as deterministic a sense) to biotical phenomena. In agreement with Driesch
Rainer Schubert-Soldern defended the vitalistic position with a range of bio-
chemical arguments. As the functional and formal unit of life the existence of
the cell would according to Schubert-Soldern depend on the actualization of a
double potential: “(a) the ‘form’ or order of the cell, and (b) the chemical laws
governing molecules. ... This principle of order may be called the ‘active po-
tentiality’ of the material parts” (1962:102). His view of the principle of order
returns to Aristotle: “Hence the Aristotelian concept of entelechy corresponds
exactly with the principle of order, which we see at work making the cell into
a whole. It is a principle of wholeness which forms a unity from parts which
would otherwise go their separate ways. Thus a hologenous system is born”
(1962:113).
Where Aristotle, Thomas Aquinas, and even Driesch still account for individ-
uality in terms of the material components, Schubert-Soldern chooses another
way: “Since the form brings about the individualization of something which
previously had been poli-substantial or poli-individual, it must be the form,
which expresses the individuality, which itself must be the individuality”
(1959:285). In his view the form of a body “brings about a real entity with a
non-material character, concerning a substance which in its essence possesses
its dynamic character” (1959:286).
Simpson chose the term organization to indicate the essential distinctive char-
acteristic of living things. In neo-vitalist circles organization is understood in
terms of their particular understanding of form (order). The botanist E.W.
Sinnott, for example, writes “Uexküll and others have emphasized this idea
and regard organic form as essentially an independent aspect of an organism,
parallel with its matter and energy. ... Indeed, the concept of organization as
something independent of the inner and outer environment implies that form
must be a basic characteristic of all living things” (1972:51). Against mecha-
nistic atomism Sinnott emphasizes in neo-vitalist manner the dynamic-cre-
ative and indivisibly continuous form of living things: “Form, ... is changing
and creative. ... It is a category of being very different from matter” (1963:
199).
105
The neo-vitalist biologist J. Haas emphasizes the obedience of every living
thing in the elaboration of the course of its life to an inherent law or
programme, which he prefers to indicate as its life plan: “The life plan con-
tains as components the blueprints of each of its expressions; the genetic plan
for their succession; the functional plan for carrying out its activities; the be-
havioral plan for all its ‘acts’” (1974:336). Life plans have (similar to norms
and laws in general) an ideal being (ideales Sein) in Haas’s view (p.338), and
cannot be explained physically-chemically: “Physical-chemical forces and
laws are in themselves unable to bring forth the structures of meaning which
we identify as the life plan, and even less can it produce a non-material bearer
of life plans” (1974:355).
Following the (idealistic-morphological) Austrian botanist Wilhelm Troll (cf.
his standard text Allgemeine Botanik 1973:19 ff.), Walter Heitler speaks of a
Zentralinstanz which must exist in every organism (1976:6). Heitler uses this
expression in the context of the following hypothesis which he would like to
defend (against a consistent physicalism): “The organism has its own laws,
which partly displaces the laws of physics and chemistry with something
more general” (1976:3). He believes an important point of departure for his
argument to be the fact that neither physics nor chemistry knows or uses a true
concept of Gestalt or Ganzheit. The analytical treatment of these sciences dis-
turbs the Gestalt. This happens because physical analysis can only be ex-
pressed in the systematic measurements of length, time, weight, and tempera-
ture (the so-called c.g.s. system). Due to this “merely analytical methodology
the laws are differential, i.e. it makes direct statements only about the behav-
iour of objects for immediately neighbouring points in time and space. By
means of integration one is able to obtain statements concerning the entire re-
lationship (e.g. the form of planetary orbits), but these must follow from the
differential elements” (1976:5). The Gestalt of a cell (or of the paw of a cat)
transcends all the descriptive possibilities of the c.g.s. system. For such de-
scriptions it is not rich enough. After all, if one only used differential laws,
such as those of physics, cells would have to divide ad infinitum without the
emergence of a cellular complex. In these terms the expression of a cat’s paw
is unimaginable (1976:5-6). The central instance directing the eventual teleo-
logical activities of living things, is referred to by Heitler as the biologischen
Instanz, who also specifies the following sub-instances (Unter-Instanzen):
organs, cells, organelles (1976:16).
Related to vitalism one finds the organismic biology founded by L. von
Bertalanffy and developed into a general systems theory in which the terms
whole and totality are central, with organization similarly functioning as a key
term. Von Bertalanffy considers the organismic world view to be a step be-
yond the mathematical more geometrico ideal and also beyond the mechanis-
tic world view: “First came the developments of mathematics, and corre-
spondingly philosophies after the pattern of mathematics – more geometrico
according to Spinoza, Descartes and other contemporaries. This was followed
by the rise of physics; classical physics found its world-view in mechanistic
philosophy, the play of material units, the world as chaos ... Lately, biology
106
and the sciences of man come to the fore. And here organization appears as
the basic concept – an organismic world-view taking account of those aspects
of reality neglected previously” (1968:66). M. Beckner elsewhere comments
that “Even though in fact many biologists agree with the organismic position,
they will say they disagree” (1971:60-61).
Holism
Vitalism consists mainly of an attempt to exalt life as an immaterial substance
influencing as an ordering form a constellation of matter, or elaborating a life
plan within such a constellation. In the holistic biology of A. Meyer however,
an attempt is made to place the biotical aspect so centrally that in principle the
physical can be reduced to biology. J. Needham summarizes the position of
Meyer: “Thus Meyer, in his interesting discussion of the concept of whole-
ness, maintains that the fundamental conceptions of physics ought to be de-
ducible from the fundamental conceptions of biology; the latter not being re-
ducible to the former. Thus entropy would be, as it were, a special case of bio-
logical disorganization; the uncertainty principle would follow from the psy-
cho-physical relation; and the principle of relativity would be derivable from
the relation between organism and environment” (1968: 27 note 34). The key
notion of holism (already introduced in 1926 by genl. J.C. Smuts), is that of
the whole (Ganzheit, Greek: to holon). Meyer defines a whole by drawing a
sharp distinction between parts (teilen) and articulations (Gliedern): “Ganz-
heit ist, was nie aus Teilen besteht, sondern stets in Gliedern ensteht und nur
gegliedert existiert” (1949:284). Without going into the basic principles of
holistic biology we refer only to Meyer’s evaluation of the construction of
trees of descent.
We indicated above that phylogeny is not ultimately a phylogeny of kinds, but
rather of typological characteristics. With the aid of extensive empirical infor-
mation Meyer formulates the following remarkable ‘basic typological law’:
“There is no group of existing organisms belonging to any taxonomical cate-
gory of the Natural System, whose members possess all group characters in
their most primitive or in their most progressive phases only. Rather are prim-
itive, intermediate and progressive character phases thus combined with each
other in each real member of a group that an organismic holism suited for liv-
ing in any real existing ecological biotope results from it. Forms which pos-
sess all their morphological characters in their primitive or in their progressive
phases only are neither living holisms nor suited for existence in ecological
biotopes and are, therefore, but purely ideal constructions. ... Therefore, the
existence of all so-called phylogenetic trees, which make use of such, always
hypothetical stem-forms, have become dubious” (1964:59-60). On page 113
Meyer writes: “But all these phylogenetic trees begin with purely idealistic
constructions.”
In an earlier work Meyer commented “that all of the phylogenetic tree con-
struction to date is impossible since it depends on entirely utopian pre-suppo-
sitions” (1950:8). How can development be imagined without trees of de-
scent? “Only as discontinuous, quantum-like (quantenhafte) development”
107
(1950:12), Meyer replies. It is therefore necessary to continue to take into ac-
count the poliphyletic origin of new kinds: “New types are as a matter of fact
not potentially present in one or more kinds of the functioning type, but in its
combined representatives still on hand. Out of this there suddenly breaks
through a new type with primevally sudden force – paleontologists rightly
speak of revolutions, and not initially in only one kind which must then de-
velop at a snail’s pace, but immediately in a wholeness of new kinds and
forms” (1950:14).
Meyer is in conclusion of the opinion that from the starting point of the holis-
tic idea, namely that the a-biosphere must be considered as a simplification of
the biosphere, a superior dialectical synthesis (cf. Hegel) is possible between
mechanism and vitalism (1964:162). Against the background of his idea of a
quantum-like, discontinuous development, Meyer considers phylogeny as the
history of life through emergence evolution (cf. 1964:147).
Emergence evolutionism
Emergence evolutionism in general attempted to take seriously the qualitative
differences which indicate the irreducibility in principle of various evolution-
ary levels, while simultaneously retaining the conviction that higher evolu-
tionary levels emerged out of lower ones. The great emergence evolutionists
openly admitted that this position contained an inner antinomy. R. Woltereck
does so in his Ontologie des Lebendigen (1940:300ff.), while M. Polanyi
writes:
“We have reached the point at which we must confront the unspecifiability of
higher levels in terms of particulars belonging to lower levels, with the fact
that the higher levels have in fact come into existence spontaneously from ele-
ments of these lower levels. How can the emergent have arisen from particu-
lars that cannot constitute it” (1969:393).
Th. Dobzhansky calls arrival at a new level “evolutionary transcendence”
(1967:44).
“The flow of evolutionary events is, however, not always smooth and uniform;
it also contains crises and turning points which, viewed in retrospect, may ap-
pear to be breaks of the continuity. The origin of life was one such crisis, radi-
cal enough to deserve the name of transcendence. The origin of man was an-
other” (1967:50). Although Dobzhansky himself went as far as to acknowl-
edge that different levels are subject to typical laws valid for it, he remained of
the opinion that an irreducibility in principle of these laws is unnecessary:
“The phenomena of the inorganic, organic and human levels are subject to dif-
ferent laws peculiar to those levels. It is unnecessary to assume any intrinsic
irreducibility of these laws, but unprofitable to describe the phenomena of an
overlying level in terms of those of the underlying ones” (p.43).

Pan-psychism
In the end the notion of continuity relativizes Dobzhansky’s recognition of
different kinds of laws. The acceptance of the postulate of continuity does not
however necessarily imply the choice of a physical-chemical basic denomina-
108
tor. A remarkable position is taken within the deterministic scientific ideal by
the German zoologist Bernard Rensch.
Although Rensch accepts the postulate of continuity of the science ideal, he
explicitly distances himself from both the mechanistic and vitalistic points of
view (the former deals with continuity in terms of a physical-chemical de-
nominator and the later in terms of a biotical denominator). Although he ac-
cepts the validity of the natural scientific causal analytical method, Rensch re-
jects every monistic theoretical picture of reality which attempts to reduce all
of reality to a single principle. According to him world events are governed by
multiple basic laws: “Depsite all evidence in favour of the monistic principle,
the primal ground of world events is pluralistic” (1971:33). Rensch refers in
particular to .".. the causal law, universal constants, the law of conservation,
the principles of symmetry, and the logical laws" (1971:33).
Rensch characterizes his own position as ‘panpsychistic’ and ‘identistic’ –
that is, all events are founded by something which is neither psychic nor mate-
rial, but which has psychic and material characteristics (1971:159). It implies
considering the evolutionary continuum in terms of a psychic basic denomi-
nator. If no discontinuities exist in the evolutionary line of descent, then lower
animals, plants, and even the inorganic sphere should exhibit certain corre-
sponding “psychic” components – a consequence drawn by Rensch: “Accord-
ing to our previous findings and discussions we are justified in assuming ...
psychic (parallel) processes of some kind in all living beings” (1959:352).
‘Psychic’ continuity also bridges the transition from living to non-living:
“Here again it is difficult to assume a sudden origin of first psychic elements
somewhere in this gradual ascent from nonliving to living systems. It would
not be impossible to ascribe ‘psychic’ components to the realm of inorganic
systems also, i.e. to credit nonliving matter with some basic and isolated kind
of ‘parallel’ processes” (1959:352).
Rensch believes that such a panpsychistic approach has the advantage of not
having to assume that the psychic, as something basically distinctive from the
material, appeared on our planet at some stage after the emergence of living
creatures. As a substitute for the assumption that psychic phenomena ap-
peared suddenly after an astronomic and geological prehistory of millennia,
Rensch considers it far more conceivable and acceptable to link the evolution
of the psychic to the evolution of the material (anzufügen), i.e. to ascribe a
protopsychic nature to matter (1969:134-135).
Metabolism as first level of freedom
The modern anthropocentric or humanistic science ideal, emerging during the
time of Descartes out of the modern human quest for autonomous freedom
(the personality or freedom ideal) as an instrument of control with the aid of
which all of reality could be brought in the grip of the natural sciences, has
threatened the humanistic freedom ideal from its inception, exactly because a
closed causally-determined natural order leaves no room for genuine human
freedom. Just as Rensch retroprojects psychic characteristics to the realm of
material things, H. Jonas is ‘forced’ in the interest of the primacy of the free-
109
dom ideal to ‘recover’ freedom on the level of the material: “Our position is in
actual fact that it is possible to observe freedom already at the level of metabo-
lism – yes, even that it is the first form of freedom” (1973:13). According to
Jonas “life manifests this polarity in a durable fashion in the fundamental an-
tithesis in between which it existence weaves itself: the antithesis of existence
and non-existence, of self and world, of form and matter, of freedom and
necessity” (1973:15-16).
A new mechanistic approach
Supporters can still be found in modern biology of the classical mechanistic
science ideal which wants to consider all natural phenomena in terms of a ki-
nematic (movement) denominator. As we saw in Chapter 3, this was the typi-
fying characteristic of classical physics.
Although Eisenstein acknowledges that sensory experience provides us with
qualitatively different things (in terms of which he develops many cutting ar-
guments against the evolutionistic continuity of descent), he remains of the
opinion that the inherent scientific tendency towards uniformity (Vereinheit-
lichung) carries abstract thought to a level transcending the qualitative expres-
sions of things, where everything which appears to be qualitative, is reduced
as far as possible to dynamic processes of degrees of speed differing only
quantitatively (1972:256): “At the highest level of scientific abstraction we do
not therefore think of things as isolated, essentially differing existences, but,
since they have been brought under a common denominator, we consider
things indissolubly linked in the coherence of universal motion” (p.256).1
Structural diversity founds structureless fantasies
From this synopsis it is clear that modern biological literature hosts various di-
verse schools of thought. The first facet bringing about a provisional division
is the problem of continuity and discontinuity – a conceptual contradistinction
originally founded only in the spatial aspect of reality (see the previous chap-
ter in this regard). Eventually this spatial analogy finds a closer specification
in the actual denominator under which the concerned biological position con-
siders the identifiable and distinguishable diversity in reality: in the case of
Eisenstein under the classical mechanistic denominator of motion; among
supporters of the general synthetic theory of evolution in principle under a
physical denominator in which apparent (but not principled) recognition is
given to higher structural levels; in vitalism, holism, and organicism under a
biotical denominator; in the pan-psychistic identism of Rensch under a sensi-
tive-psychic denominator, and in the personality ideal-oriented thought of
Jonas under the denominator of freedom. Emergence evolutionism wanted to
1 Eisenstein links up with the dynamic theory of Constantin Brunner (cf. i.a. Brunner's
Materialismus und Idealismus, 2nd impression 1962), which ends up in a quasi-Hegelian dia-
lectical synthesis in which all finite contradictions are reconciled in the infinite totality of
so-called absolute being: “From the higher and encompassing perspective of dynamic theory
all things in the nature of things have diverse origins and merge in the infinite totality. In the
end ... all types of existence are equal manifestations of the one absolute being” (Eisenstein
1975:265). Cf. also the obituary article which Eisenstein wrote in memory of the death of
Brunner in Philosophia Naturalis (1987:346-349).

110
have its cake and eat it by recognizing both a continuity of descent and a
(quantitative) discontinuity of being.
The choice of a denominator implies (with cosmological necessity) that all
other facets of the diversity of reality must be reduced to the chosen denomi-
nator which as an absolutized perspective encompasses as aspects all other
dimensions of reality.
What is particularly striking, is that all the diverse approaches mentioned con-
tinue to be confronted with the diversity of reality which can be identified and
distinguished. No single understanding of continuity denies the differences
among matter, plant, animal, and human, or the differences among the aspects
of movement, the physical, biotical, the sensitive-psychic, and the post-psy-
chical – they simply describe these different facets and structures as non-es-
sential since it can apparently be reduced to one or another denominator. The
basic question remains whether this diversity of choices in denominator has
any “objectively factual” foundation. It cannot be denied that the inherent di-
versity in reality offers a point of departure for this diversity in perspectives,
but the belief that all of this diversity can be reduced to one particular facet
which would as basic denominator encompass all others doubtlessly indicates
fundamental theoretical presuppositions – theoretical-philosophical presup-
positions which exist since theoretical logical thought by nature requires an
idea of the diversity in reality, while as theoretical presuppositions themselves
being directed and determined by ultra-theoretical convictions. No single
perspective in modern biology can be released from one or another central
foundational motive which determines its course as an ultra-theoretical
dunamis.
While most modern biologists in one way or another support nominalism, it is
remarkable to note – as we saw in Chapter II – that most mathematicians of
our day in principle reject nominalism in their discipline. Platonism in mathe-
matics is described by P. Benacerraf and H. Putnam as follows: “In general,
the platonists will be those who consider mathematics as the discovery of
truths about structures which exists independently of the activity of thought of
mathematicians” (1964:15). Paul Bernays is of the opinion that the use of pla-
tonism is so common in mathematics “that it would be no exaggeration to say
that platonism currently dominates mathematics” (1976:65). It is a peculiar
situation that the dominant directions in modern mathematics and modern bi-
ology are directly opposed in terms of their theoretical points of departure!
We conclude this chapter by once again returning to the structural character of
the cell – in terms of the theory of enkaptic structural wholes which we
already considered in chapter II.

Structural dimensions of the cell – an enkaptic structural whole


A remarkable tendency among the different biological approaches is that vir-
tually all of them in their own way speak of living and non-living matter. Al-
though this expression means something different in each case, the usage
nonetheless reflects unresolved problems for each of these points of view.
111
For the mechanistic (-physicalistic) approach everything is in principle mate-
rial, physically determined – which implies that any term which appeals to the
biotical aspect of things is actually problematic. On the other hand it is vital-
ism which attempts to find the essence of “life” in immaterial life plans, ges-
talt-expressive factors or central instances. This means that it is also problem-
atic from that perspective to speak of living matter – a problem Haas obvi-
ously perceived with his emphasis of the fact that physical substances main-
tain their “being and function” also “after their assimilation” into living
things. Understandably Haas himself opposes the usage of “living matter” –
according to him biochemistry and cell physiology knows of no “living mat-
ter” with “mysterious vital characteristics” (1968:24). He prefers to speak of
the material substratum of organisms (1968:20-40).
This approach of Haas rejects what he considers to be the “monistic vitalism”
of Aristotle. At the same time he draws the conclusions of his own position:
“Organisms essentially consist of two distinctive realities, a material and a
non-material component, therefore having in ontological terms a dualistic
constitution” (1968:39).
Atoms, molecules and macro-molecules are not alive – they are physically
qualified material structures. Just as Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle form
the lower limit to physical determination, N. Bohr formulates his so-called bi-
ological uncertainty principle in his articles from the thirties (which Heitler
uses in 1976 as point of departure), which indicate the upper limit to physical
determinacy. This upper limit actually indicates that a biotically qualified en-
tity such as a cell directs the functioning of its basic constitutive substances to-
wards the existence of the living unit as a whole, which implies that the actual
material structures – apart from this biotical serviceability – only comes in
view once the living cell dies. The material substances simply do not have a
biotical subject function.
Apart from the four (physical) macroscopic characteristics referred to by
Trincher (cf. 1985:336) the typical biotical qualifying function of the cell is
structurally expressed in the physical aspect in the typically centered (i.e.
biotically organized) manner in which the cell functions. Driesch had no brief
for the typical individuality of living things, since he was of the opinion that
the material components with or without entelechie did not differ. Further-
more he failed to describe the influence of the immaterial entelechie on the
material components of living things otherwise than in terms appealing to the
physical aspect. He could not see that scientific conceptualization necessarily
utilizes modal points of entry – even preferring to see entelechie as a system of
negations which could not be determined positively: it is non-spatial,
non-mechanical, indivisible (cf. Sinnott and Haas) and non-energetic (1931:
297).
By means of a theory of the enkaptic structural whole this question is placed in
a different context. In the first place this structural theory provides a peculiar
perspective on the diverse points of view of organic chemistry and biochemis-
try. In the nature of things entity structures and their interlacement transcends
any particular scientific perspective. When organic chemistry (from a physi-
112
cal-chemical perspective) investigates the nature of molecular and crystalline
structures, this does not mean that the biotically directed nature of the cell can
be reduced to this. Apart from the excretory products of living cells, many
substances are produced in cells which have e.g. regulatory, inductive, orga-
nizing or catalytic functions, without these substances being externally ex-
creted. The attempt to reveal the structure of such substances is most com-
monly attempted today by biochemists. Such substance structures actually,
however, fall within the research ambit of organic chemistry, since it retains a
physical directive function as macro-molecular structures. Consider for in-
stance the study of the chemical structure of enzymes, which is today consid-
ered one of the most distinctive facets of biochemistry – which actually princi-
pally falls within the ambit of organic chemistry. Biochemists would probably
protest such a point of view, since they do not clearly distinguish between the
structure of the mentioned material elements in the cell and their biotically
directed functions.
As physical-chemical substructure the living cell organism these material
building blocks found in the cell are not entirely self-enclosed, since they re-
main entirely open, dynamic, and labile through being disclosed and made
serviceable to the subjective biotical function of the living organism. And it is
towards these biotically disclosed and directed physical functions of the sub-
stances in the cell which biochemistry should direct its investigatory efforts.
The typical metabolic functions of the cell certainly occur on the foundation
of its physical-chemical constitutive substances, but can nevertheless not be
detached from their disclosed directedness towards the qualifying biotical
aspect of the cell.
Since the molecular and crystalline structure itself already exhibits the form of
an enkaptic structural whole, we are in this case dealing with a complex
enkaptic form. The entity structure of the cell represents a unilateral enkaptic
foundational relationship: without physical-chemical constitutive substances
there could be no cell, without these substances therefore participating in the
subjective life function which qualifies the cell. (we must repeat that it would
therefore be self-contradictory to speak of molecular biology or a bio-mole-
cule, since both expressions suggest that physically qualified entities at the
same time have an internal biotical qualifying function).
The biochemical constellation therefore begins exactly where the focus shifts
from the molecular or crystalline structures of the organic substances to the
actual biotically disclosed and directed functions of these substances. In the
biochemical constellation the essential character of the so-called organic sub-
stances is neither revoked nor excluded, since they are only enkaptically (i.e.
with the retention of their internal physical-chemical structure) made service-
able to the typical biotical functions of the cell.
The disclosure of organic chemistry, which placed biochemistry as an inde-
pendent discipline in the encyclopaedic coherence of all the sciences, at the
same time confirmed in a unique way the philosophical dependency of these
particular sciences, since only in close mutual interaction with organic chem-
istry can biochemistry properly fulfil its task. In the same way as the physi-
113
cal-chemical structure of constitutive substances is foundational to their
enkaptic (i.e. biotically directed) functions, organic chemistry ought to be
foundational to biochemistry, which should focus on the disclosed enkaptic
functions of the substance structures which organic chemistry reveals. This
foundational relationship confirms the close interlacement of the structure
and functions of the constitutive substances of living things.
Within the context of the ordered (centered) structure of the cell, we do how-
ever (from a biotical perspective) come across the various organs (organelles)
which are true parts of a living whole. Since the cell is built up of non-living
material components we cannot simply say that organelles are parts of the cell.
To indicate the biotical subjectivity of the cell Dooyeweerd uses the term: cell
organism. In other words, the various organs of the cell are all part of the cell
organism. The different organelles referred to above exist only on the founda-
tion of physical-chemical constitutive substances – this is the meaning of the
unilaterally enkaptic foundational relationship.
The cell organism therefore is a specifically biotically qualified structure
which can only exist on the foundation of enkaptically bound physical-chemi-
cal constitutive substances. Since these substances are not themselves
biotically qualified, but nonetheless function in the living cell, we are forced
to distinguish a structural trio if we wish to account for the complex structure
of the living cell.
(i) In the first place there are the physical-chemically qualified constitutive
substances which themselves already represent enkaptic structural
wholes.
(ii) Secondly we encounter the living organism of the cell as a biotically
qualified substructure which can only function on the foundation of the
enkaptically bound substructural substances.
(iii) Finally we find the body of the cell as structural node which enkaptically
encompasses both the previously mentioned substructures.
Although the cell organism is living in all its articulations, it cannot exist with-
out the enkaptically contained substances, and can only be realized in conse-
quence in the enkaptic structural whole of the body of the cell. Since the body
of the cell as enkaptic structural whole necessarily also enkaptically encom-
passes the nonliving substances, the cell cannot be entirely living. In plant
structures the living organism is therefore only a qualifying substructure of
the living body of the cell, which exists in a unilateral foundational relation-
ship with its molecular substance structure.
At this point we must again clearly distinguish the theory of the enkaptic
structural whole from a traditional universalistic scheme of a whole with
parts. Only with regard to the cell organism can we speak of a true biotically
qualified whole-parts relationship (the whole cell organism which in its typi-
cal structural centeredness possesses different sub-organs). Physical-chemi-
cal constitutive substances, which as such can never be biotically qualified,
can therefore neither as such be part of the biotically qualified cell organism.
It remains only enkaptically bound ingredients in the actual parts. Macro-mo-
lecular and quasi-crystalline substance structures remain physical-chemically
114
qualified and cannot as such be alive. Nonetheless such substance structures
are present in the body of the cell, since without them the cell organism cannot
live.

115
116
Paradigms in Mathematics,
Physics, and Biology:
Their Philosophical Roots

Chapter V
Remarks about the mystery of being human1
In the previous chapter we have dealt with a few aspects of the problems pres-
ent in the evolutionist account of the origin of living entities with special ref-
erence to the assumed evolutionary transition from the non-living to the liv-
ing. Surely, this transition is as difficult as it is crucial for the whole evolution-
ist picture of the human being as an extension of the animal realm. At the same
time, in order to postulate the origin of the first living entity, a ‘jump’ is
needed just as big as the one from the level of uni-cellular life to that of being
human. Dobzhansky says: “The origin of life and the origin of man are, under-
standably, among the most challenging and also most difficult problems of
evolutionary history” (1967:459). Lately, the connection between the molec-
ular level and the human level is once more emphasized by developments in
the study of the relationship between humans and the anthropoids (cf.
Chiarelli, 1985; Schwartz, 1985).
Continuity or discontinuity between the various levels?
The tremendous differences between the various ‘levels’ of the evolutionary
‘path’ seem to be so impressive, that various evolutionists tend, in stead of ad-
vocating a simple gradualist perspective, to support a more articulated
‘emergentistic’ approach. Th. Dobzhansky introduces a term borrowed from
Paul Tillich: evolutionary transcendence (1967:44): “The origin of life and
the origin of man were evolutionary crises, turning points, actualizations of
novel forms of being. These radical innovations can be described as emer-
gences, or transcendences, in the evolutionary process” (1967:32, cf. 50).
Given this attempt to acknowledge something ‘novel’ in the diversity of real-
ity, it may still be somewhat surprising to see the following statement of
1 In what follows we leave aside the so-called moral issues following from the view that
being human fundamentally does not differ from any animal. A remark from Azar will
suffice in this context to point at the obvious inconsistencies present in these current
reductionistic neo-Darwinistic views: “In a word, if Ruse sees no fundamental differ-
ence between man and the other animals, why should he condemn genocide? We cer-
tainly slaughter animals every day. If we enjoy filet mignon or fried chicken, why object
to killing people?” (1986:233).

117
Dobzhansky: “Stated most simply, the phenomena of the inorganic, organic,
and human levels are subject to different laws peculiar to those levels”
(1967:43). This could have been said by anyone working within the tradition
of reformational philosophy!
We may even go further and quote a statement from Simpson emphasizing the
difference in kind between being human and being an animal: “Man has cer-
tain basic diagnostic features which set him off most sharply from any other
animal and which have involved other developments not only increasing this
sharp distinction but also making it an absolute difference in kind and not only
a relative difference of degree” (1971:271). From this statement, however,
one can sense the subtle emergent evolutionist undertones: although human
beings did evolve from other animals, this development established “an abso-
lute difference in kind”. The same supposition is present in Dobzhansky’s
words about “different laws peculiar to those levels”, mentioned above
(1967:43), since, in the very next sentence, he proceeds by saying: “It is un-
necessary to assume any intrinsic irreducibility of these laws, but unprofitable
to describe the phenomena of an overlying level in terms of those of the
underlying ones”.
This mode of expression came to the fore when, in the the 19th century, cer-
tain biologists and philosophers could no longer find peace of mind in the
age-old controversy between mechanism and vitalism. According to
Passmore (1966:269) this conception of ‘emergence’ probably goes back to
G.H. Lewis’s work on “Problems of Life and Mind” in 1875. Although Lloyd
Morgan was not a realist, he continued this emergent evolutionism in his
Gifford lectures of 1923 (‘Emergent Evolution’) and 1926 (‘Life, Mind and
Spirit’). In his “Process and Reality”, first published in 1920, A.N. Whitehead
also chooses for an emergent evolutionist approach. The German biologist,
Richard Woltereck, continues the emergentistic trend in his ‘Ontology of the
Living’ (1940, 300 ff.). The same applies to the well-known German Philoso-
pher of the natural sciences, Bernard Bavinck (cf. his work of 1954). The con-
temporary systems philosopher, E. Laszlo (1971),1 as well as the philoso-
pher-chemist, M. Polanyi, also adhere to this tradition. The German biologist
Walter Zimmerman once (implicitly) formulated this idea as follows: “With-
out any doubt organisms today possess a typical nature distinct from all other
(non-living – D.S.) things in the world. However, this typical nature emerged
through evolution” (1962:202-203).
On the one hand, the striking differences between distinct kinds of entities
seems to be so impressive that these thinkers have to respect them by distin-
guishing different levels/laws of being; on the other hand they still want to up-
hold their commitment to a continuous line of descent. In other words, they
want to have it both ways: “genetic continuity” and “existential discontinu-
ity”. What is more, as we have seen earlier, some of them are well aware of the
tension between these two aspects of their views. Just recall what Woltereck
1 The fact that Laszlo is directly influenced by the line from Lloyd Morgan, S. Alexander
and A.N. Whitehead, is shown by Pretorius (1986:29-37).

118
and Polanyi say (Woltereck, 1940:300 ff.): “How can the emergent have
arisen from elements that cannot constitute it?” (Polanyi, 1969:393).1
Although we have shown that there are still different trends of thought present
in 20th century biology, both evolutionist and non-evolutionistic, those ori-
ented to the neo-Darwinistic tradition are not at all willing to even consider an
alternative approach. In the Introduction to the publication of the Proceedings
of an International Conference on Human Evolution, Tobias, after referring to
the presence of differences of opinion between some participants, writes:
“This is perhaps a good moment to reaffirm that nothing in human biology
makes sense except in the light of the evolutionary concept” (1985:iv).
Remark: He proceeds: “To speak of the concept or hypothesis or theory
of evolution is, in turn, often seized upon by anti-evolutionists as a sign
of weakness in the evolutionary doctrine. Evolution, they are liable to
declare, is only a theory. Thereby, of course, they are betraying their
ignorance of the way in which science works – by the creating of hy-
potheses, the testing of them and the refuting or confirming of them.
This approach, which is the essence of the scientific method, is no sign
of weakness; it is surely the very strength of science”. Evidently,
Tobias is not at all aware of the fact that he still adheres to the presently
out-dated positivistic philosophy of science – seemingly without any
awareness or knowledge about the revolution in the area of the philos-
ophy of science that took place since the 1960s! It is perhaps not far-
fetched to require that a person adhering to the “evolutionary doc-
trine”, with its fundamental emphasis on change, should take notice of
the far-reaching changes affecting the area of the philosophy of sci-
ence during the past two to three decades – reflected in the work of
Popper, Toulmin, Polanyi, Kuhn, Lakatos, Feyerabend, McMullin,
Stegmüller and others.
At this stage of our discussion, we must ask the following question: if the hu-
man being is evolutionistically considered to be nothing but an extension of
(and a higher development within) the animal realm, what should be made of
the distinctive features of being human? Or are there no such features? First of
all we shall succinctly deal with the available fossil data related to the sup-
posed evolutionary descent of humankind, and afterwards discuss some of the
most prominent ‘candidates’ for being uniquely human characteristics.
Is the fossil-record conclusive?
With the announcement of the discovery of the Taung child skull by Raymond
Dart in 1925, designated as Australopithecus africanus, a new picture of hu-
man origins took shape. For some time, however, the Piltdown hoax compli-
cated the matter. Found in a gravel pit on the Sussex Downs of England be-
tween 1908 and 1913, these remains, in the words of Tobias “showed the as-
tonishing combination of a large-brain cranium, or rather modern aspect, with
1 We must note in this context, that the analysis of Polanyi in 1967 and in 1968 exhibits the
same ‘emergentistic’ ambiguity. With reference to the ideas of Polanyi and Laszlo, Hart
also pays attention to this problem: “If orders of kinds are irreducible, can things of cer-
tain kinds still arise from things of other kinds?” (1984:121).

119
an ape-like jawbone (now known to have belonged to an orangutan –
Lowenstein, this volume) and lower canine tooth. As long as Piltdown was ac-
cepted as genuine and considered an ancient human precursor, it was impossi-
ble to accept that Australopithecus was ancestral to man” (Tobias, 1985a:37).
Remark: The story about the Piltdown “man” is not a good one for the
scientific reliability of evolutionary scientists (cf. Weiner, 1955). Dur-
ing the twenties strong claims were made by prominent scientists as to
the reliability and belonging together of the jaw and the skull of the
Piltdown “man” (like the anatomist, Arthur Keith, and anthropologist
George G. MacCurdy from Yale University). Without acknowledging
at all that this forgery simply showed that evolutionary authorities can
fantasize what they want to find (by ignoring what they don’t want to
recognize), Tobias simply writes: “When the hoax had been perpe-
trated more than 40 years earlier, its features had been in conformity
with the then fixed ideas about human evolution” (1985a:38). If, at a
certain stage, it was possible for a forgery to ‘fit’ “then fixed ideas”,
how certain are we that, at another stage, we are not the victims of a
“theoretically forgerous” interpretation ‘fitting’ the then known
‘facts/fossils’?
By the early fifties, according to Tobias, almost all obstacles to the acceptance
of the Australopithecus disappeared, since it gained pretty well universal ac-
ceptance as a member of the hominids “and as a genus, one of more whose
species were on the direct lineage of modern man” (Tobias, 1985a:38).

In the fifties and sixties this meant that the evolutionary line proceeded from
the Australopithecines and via the Java- and Peking Ape-men (currently clas-
sified as belonging to Homo erectus) to Homo neanderthalensis and to Homo
sapiens (cf. Le Gros Clark, 1964:168). During the sixties and early seventies
L.S.B. Leakey (working near Lake Rudolph in East Africa together with his
son Richard), discovered a new species, called Homo habilis.1 Similarities
with modern2 human beings caused Leakey to reject Homo erectus as a human
ancestor (1970:172). At the same time, he argues that one cannot see the Aus-
tralopithecines as ancestral to Homo habilis since they were for the greater
part contemporaries!3
1 This name was proposed by Leakey, Tobias and Napier in 1964. The term ‘habilis’
means that this creature not only was better equipped and more suitable than the Austra-
lopithecines for the usage of tools, but that it was also capable of making stone tools (cf.
Gieseler, 1974:486).
2 The numerous differences separating Australopithecus and Homo habilis from Homo
sapiens are described in detail by Henke & Rothe (1980:80 ff.). In order to meet the ob-
jections of Le Gros Clark to the classification of Homo habilis separately from the genus
Australopithecus, Leakey, Napier and Tobias had to introduce a new definition of the
genus Homo, rejecting cranial capacity as a defining feature of the genus Homo (cf.
Leakey & Goodall, 1970:161).
3 We should mention in this connection that T.C. Bromage mentions the fact that “the
teeth of Australopithecus resemble the great apes more closely than modern Homo”
(1985:243).

120
Perhaps the most remarkable finding in this category is a skull which was
given the registration number 1470 at the National Museum of Kenya. Even-
tually this skull was classified as belonging to Homo habilis (cf. Henke &
Rothe, 1980:95). Leakey remarks: “after its careful reconstruction, it is the
most complete specimen of its type: its cranium and face are virtually intact,
but the lower jaw (the mandible) is missing” (1978:52). According to the de-
scription of this specimen by Richard Leakey in the well-known Journal “Na-
tional Geographic” (June 1973), which estimated its age at 2,8 million years,1
it “leaves in ruins the notion that all early fossils can be arranged in an orderly
sequence of evolutionary change. It appears that there were several different
kinds of early man, some of whom developed larger brains than had been sup-
posed” (1973:819).2
If we do not take skull 1470 into account, it seems reasonable, for a number of
evolutionist paleontologists, to see a line from the Australopithecines, via
Homo habilis to Homo sapiens.3
What is rather astonishing to me, is that no one participating in the conference
on Hominid Evolution, organized by Tobias in 1985 in Southern Africa, even
mentioned the works of Richard Leakey or referred to skull 1470! Is it be-
cause his interpretation rules out the possibility of linking the Australopith-
ecines with the human lineage? In terms of Leakey’s interpretation they were,
after all, contemporaries (cf. 1978:52)! Furthermore, in Leakey’s case, the
speculative common ancestor should be pushed back to at least 14 million
years (Kenaypithecus wickeri – found near Fort Kernan in East Africa), pro-
viding the starting-point for two lines of development: (i) the one leading to
Homo sapiens while (ii) the other (including the Australopithecines) became
extinct (Richard Leakey, 1973:829).
Seemingly in order to transcend these problems, some scholars have recently
been focussing their attention in more detail on the (mentioned) possibilities
of establishing relationships between human beings and their supposed rela-
1 In his work of a few years later, Richard Leakey's references to the age of skull 1470
stick to an age of “close to two million years” (cf. 1978:53).
2 It is noteworthy to note that the erectus forms, which are estimated to be 1 million years
old (Java- and Peking ‘Ape-men’), have a cranial capacity similar to that of skull 1470.
The latter, however, is not only much older than these erectus forms, but its morphologi-
cal features are also much more similar to that of Homo sapiens. The cranial volume of
skull 1470 is 800cc; that of the erectus forms varies between 700cc-1100cc; the earliest
finds of Homo habilis were about 650cc; while that of the Australopithecines is 500cc. It
should also be noted that skull 1470 lacks the prominent eyebrow-ridge of Homo erectus
– which shows a closer affinity to Homo sapiens than the latter. The Black Skull (com-
pare Faul, 1986:10) throws, according to Richard Leakey, “cold water on the notion that
as recently as 3 million years ago there was only one species (of early man) which gave
rise to the others”. The brain of this new extremely primitive hominid skull is about the
size of a modern ape's and less than a third of the size of the human brain – indeed the
smallest of any hominid measured to date.
3 Cf. McHenry, 1985:222, where he claims, due to 19 traits in which Australopithecus
afarensis resembles Homo habilis more closely than any other species of Australo-
pithecus, that “this species of Australopithecus is the immediate ancestor of Homo” (cp.
Figure 2 of Clark 1985:75).

121
tives on the basis of molecular and chromosomal evidence. However, also on
this level we can discern serious difficulties. First of all, Schwartz (1985:268)
points out that chromosomal phylogenies and some molecular and chromo-
somal evidence support the relationship between the human being and the
orangutan – a perspective which is, according to him, also consistent with
morphology. This means that, according to this analysis, the large Hominids
differentiate into human/urangutan and chimpanzee/gorilla sister groups
(Schwartz, 1985:268). In the same volume, however, we read the following
conclusion from Chiarelli in connection with a figure which shows the num-
ber and types of chromosome mutations detectable in the karyotype of the dif-
ferent apes compared to the human being: “The type and number of changes,
up to now detected, demonstrate that the orangutan is the most conservative
and the most unrelated to man, among apes, while the African apes (especially
the chimpanzee) share a number of derived changes with the human karyo-
type” (1985:400).
With reference to different investigations, these two scholars indeed reach di-
rectly opposite conclusions: the first one relates humans to the orangutan (ex-
plicitly rejecting the chimpanzee as a candidate), and the second one relates
them to the chimpanzee!
Immuno-biological evidence (blood antigen studies) and protein homologies
provide another indirect way to relate humans and animals. Nevertheless,
both the direct and the indirect methods of analysis and comparison only give
rise to what Henke & Rothe indicate as a ‘Similarity-phenogram’: “Since bio-
chemical analyses do not provide the time factor necessary for any construc-
tion of a phylogenetic tree” all “attempts until now, trying to establish phylo-
genetic trees on the basis of biochemical evidence, are not satisfactory in view
of the numerous and not yet proven presuppositions made in connection with
the tempo of evolution in the molecular field” (1980:17). What is even more
important, is that they “show important deviations from those phylogenetic
trees which are constructed on the basis of morphological criteria” (Henke &
Rothe, 1980:17).
There are even well-known and important sholars which deny the justifia-
bility to work at all with a genetic mode of expression in paleontology and in
the construction of phylogenentic trees. Schindewolf states that the introduc-
tion of a genetic reasoning in phylogeny is not justified simply because all the
necessary presuppositions are absent (1969:69). He also rejects Simpson’s
notion of “quantum evolution” (explosive development), since we have no
certain knowledge about the adaptive zones or the “everything-or-nothing-re-
actions” (1969:69).
The crucial point in mentioning these data and differences of opinion, is to
show that there are extreme difficulties and problems present in the attempt to
come to a coherent and rationally justified picture of human origins even if
one accepts the assumptions of neo-Darwinism.
Remark: That theoretical presuppositions are inevitably part and parcel
of the science of paleontology and the construction of phylogenetic
trees (just compare Grene’s analysis of the radical opposition between
122
Simpson and Schindewolf, 1974:130), is explicitly conceded by
Schwartz in the final paragraph of his mentioned article: “Sophisti-
cated technology does not provide more accurate phylogenies than
conventional means. Phylogenetic interpretation is ultimately a reflec-
tion of the theoretical predisposition of the investigator” (1985:268).
The biologist, P. Overhage, goes even further by emphasizing that
such an essential and penetrating question as that concerning the origin
of human beings, by its very nature, reaches into the sphere of our
world and life view. Therefore, also the answers given to questions
like these are necessarily co-determined by pre-suppositions and
pre-decisions which are non-scientific in nature. Especially natural
scientists misled many with their supposed ‘objectivity’ and ‘unpre-
judicedness’ by accusing alternative conceptions of evolution as being
restricted by a world and life view. Precisely these convictions, how-
ever, make it very difficult for these scientists to realize that mostly the
opposite is the case. So many diverging interpretations of fossil find-
ings and so many differences in the evaluation of phylogenetic coher-
ences, evinced foremost in the “trees of descent”, are not explainable
purely in terms of the current state of affairs (A. Meyer straightfor-
wardly disqualifies “all these phylogenetic trees” which proceed from
“purely idealistic constructions”, 1964:113, cf.59-60). Much rather, it
makes an appeal to fundamental convictions and suppositions which
influence theory construction from the underlying philosophical and
world-and-life-view attitude, as well as from the tradition within
which the scientist is working (1959:287). To illustrate this point we
mention some differences of opinion regarding Homo habilis.
Whereas Clarke (1985:296) emphatically claims that “all indications
are that Homo habilis probably developed into Homo erectus some
time before 1.5 m.y.”, Jelínek argues that the difference from Homo
sapiens to Homo erectus is not on the species level, but on the subspe-
cies level, implying that the correct name should be Homo sapiens
erectus (1985:345). Aguirre also writes: “The separation between
Homo sapiens and ‘Homo erectus’ vanishes. The authors propose that
all populations from the Far East, Africa and Europe, currently
referred to as ‘Homo erectus’, should be considered Homo sapiens”
(1985:328).
One of the crucial questions is whether we can really rely on anatomical and
morphological studies to explain the differences between humans and their
supposed Hominid ancestors.1 It frequently happens that recourse is taken to
the presence of tools in order to determine the human nature of fossil findings.
But if we consider archaeological evidence as an aid to interpret fossil find-
ings, are we still working within the framework of paleo-biology? Schinde-
1 In passing we may note the striking circularity present in some of the arguments evolu-
tionists use to ‘prove’ the existence of a specific organ in terms of its selective value.
Gehlen points out (1971:124) that the usefulness of every existing human ability serves
as a proof of its selective value: the existence serves as the proof, in stead of showing (as
was envisaged), that a specific ability emerged as a result of its selective value!

123
wolf warns us that obviously the paleontologist should ‘disregard’ the “tech-
nical and cultural achievements of man” because considering them would
take us “outside a biological approach” (1969:67). Seemingly without being
aware of the fact that they are transcending the limits of biological research, as
the archaeologist Narr establishes, even scholars inclined to follow a natural
scientific approach now once more start looking for the line between humans
and animals where signs of the typical human spirituality are seen in cultural
activities (1959:393).
The Swiss biologist, Portmann, warns that, in order to get a better understand-
ing of the origin of humankind, we should dispense of the unwarranted and
unproven assumption that human spirituality is a late phenomenon in the de-
velopment of the human body. If this assumption is rejected, however, and hu-
man nature is considered in its totality, then the distance between the human
being and animals will come to the fore in its full magnitude (1965:57-58). To
this we may add his acknowledgement of the fact that his own investigations
into the ontogenetic uniqueness of humankind are “guided by the conviction
that which can biologically be grasped is essentially co-determined by those
aspects of humankind, which have to be investigated with methods different
from those employed by the experimental biologist” (1969:23-24). The an-
thropologist, A. Gehlen, also points out that a total view on being human func-
tions as the guiding philosophical view-point in his research – and this to-
tal-view cannot be deduced from the view-point of any special science
(1971:13). In one of his earlier works, P. Overhage displays a similar sensitiv-
ity: “To reduce the whole question about the human origins simply to the bi-
otical-bodily (morphological-anatomical) facet, witnesses an astonishingly
one-sided approach and imply a radical simplification of the total depth of the
problem” (1959a:5).
Is there anything distinctive to human tools?
Originally it was thought that the human being is the only creature that can use
tools. When it turned out that animals are also capable of doing this, Overhage
emphasizes the human ability to produce tools (1973:359). We have men-
tioned the fact that the name Homo habilis was introduced to indicate that this
species was able not only to use tools, but also to produce them (cf. Gieseler,
1984:486). Although Y. Coppens tries to ascribe some of the oldest flaked
stone tools of Omo to the Austrolopithecines, Jelínek says that the “whole sit-
uation is still far from clear” (1985:343, cf. Clarke, 1985:287). According to
him, archaeologists do accept the view that stone tools can be up to two mil-
lion years old (1985:343, or even 2.6 million years – cf. Narr, 1974:107).
Early Acheulean artifacts, possibly about 1.6 million years of age, are associ-
ated with Homo habilis (Clarke, 1985:297).
Jane Goodall observed that Chimpanzees are able to construct two kinds of
tools:
(i) “they crushed wads of fresh leaves lightly between their teeth to increase
their absorbent quality and then dipped such a wad in water to use as a
sponge” and
124
(ii) “they prepared slim sticks or the stalks of coarse grasses and used these
objects to probe into termites’ nests. The termites would sieze the intrud-
ing objects in their jaws and then be pulled out to be eaten by the chim-
panzee” (Reed, 1985:90-91).
Sometimes the chimpanzees would even prepare their termite-sticks before
they are used at the mound, an ability until then thought to be uniquely human.
Reed remarks that the current usage of the term ‘tool’ simply indicated an “ob-
ject purposely made and used in a certain way” (1985:91).
This definiton caused new problems. If a termite-stick is a tool, why can’t the
same be said about the nest of a chimpanzee? Beck proposed that to be a tool,
in the words used by Reed in his exposition, “an object must be free of any
fixed connection with the substrate, must be outside the user’s body at the
time of use, and the user must hold or carry the tool during or just prior to use”
(1985:92).
Reed himself opts for a new approach. He starts from the physical level where
energy and its utilization are the key factors. Thus he reverses the evaluation
of tools. Instead of starting with a contemplation of humankind and its works,
the evolutionary perspective requires that one should start with what Reed
calls the “primary energy-traps”, such as the cellular or protoplasmic part of
any living being (1985:93). Secondary energy-traps are A) protoplasmic se-
cretions – their use as energy-traps is extra-cellular (either used within or out-
side the body); B) habitat features; and C) the use of other organisms (symbio-
sis). Tools are defined as the forth type of secondary energy-traps: “A tool is a
particular kind of secondary energy-trap, an object or a controlled chemical
process (fire for example) in the production of which the environment is
modified” (1985:95).
How wide this definition actually is, is seen from the fact that in terms of it
even one-celled animals (from the protozoan family Difflugiidae) are
‘tool-making’. Reed proceeds: “Yes, one group of one-celled animals make
tools, and so do thousands of other kinds of animals; all nests are tools, and so
are the burrows produced by physical removal of substrate (alteration of the
environment). .... Tool-making is and has been of two kinds, instinctive and
cultural. The latter, the learning anew of tool-making by each individual of
each generation, represents the activities of only a few kinds of primates and
perhaps elephants” (1985:96-97).
In the final analysis, a distinction is introduced between instinctive and cul-
tural, without paying much attention to the way in which the latter is defined.
Are there really no criteria available to distinguish between animal tool-mak-
ing and human tool-making?
Henk Hart is convinced that, in this connection, we may discern a low level
category of “formative control”: “The sensitivity of lower animals found in
drive and instinct is opened up in higher animals to conscious and purposively
directed behaviors which differ in principle from the mechanical and auto-
mated structures of behavior” (1984:181). To support this view, he mentions
nests, ant hills and beaver dams, which “require skill and control in the mold-
ing and shaping of materials” (1984:179). Examples of “resourceful behav-
125
ior/creative behavior” are mentioned to substantiate these moulding and con-
trolling skills of animals further (Hart, 1984:180). Reed holds the opposite
opinion: “Otherwise all tool-making is instinctive, even the seemingly pur-
posive and complex hive-building by some bees and wasps and dam-building
by weavers” (1985:97).
It seems to me that Hart does not distinguish sufficiently between sensitive in-
telligence and rational intelligence on the one hand, and between the differ-
ences present in animal and human tool-making on the other hand. We shall
return to the first distinction presently. At the moment we want to focus our at-
tention on the uniqueness of human tool-making.
In the first phase of the paleolithicum (i.e., the early stone age), Von Königs-
wald claims to see evidence of a true invention (1968:167). Narr is more artic-
ulate, since he distinguishes three criteria which demarcate and qualify typical
human tools (cf. Narr, 1973:61-62, 1974:105-107):
a) The form of the tool should not be suggested: The distinctive features of
the kind of tool in making should not be exemplified (vorgebildet) by the
form of the raw material – for example a stick which could only be freed
from obstructing branches and leaves. The final product should still be
‘concealed’ within the raw material. It amounts to abstracting the form
“to be brought to the fore” from what is given to the senses.
b) The function should not be suggested: Tools are not projections of hu-
man organs. They are not to be seen as a strengthening, elevation or ex-
tension of bodily organs. Think about a chopping stone which strength-
ens the fist, or about a stick extending the reach of the arm or the fingers.
When a tool is used to cut, it is performing a novel function which is not
suggested by the function of any of our bodily organs (this function of
cutting must be distinguished from scratching with the nails or from tear-
ing apart with the teeth). In this sense, tools are the product of genuine
inventions in the context of creating a new principle of technics and ma-
nipulation on the basis of a true insight into the nature and relationships
between things.
c) The way of production should not be suggested: Tools should not be
manufactured simply by using the natural organs of the body (hands,
teeth). It must be created with the aid of existing (for instance, chopping)
tools, although it is not strictly necessary that the latter themselves
should represent artificial products.
Note that these criteria deal with objects which are qualified by the formative
(cultural) mode of reality, i.e. technical tools, which must be distinguished
from other cultural objects which qualified by different (non-formative) func-
tions (such as musical instruments – aesthetically qualified; money – econom-
ically qualified; and son on). Clearly, these criteria explicitly presuppose our
typical and uniquely human freely varying control guided by our formative
fantasy. Kant defined our fantasy as the ability to represent an object without
its presence to the senses (1781:B151). Narr goes further by emphasizing that
the human formative fantasy must be able to invent something different from
what is present to the senses. Furthermore, he also requires that truly human
126
tools must be made with the aid of (formed or unformed) tools. Even the mak-
ing of simple stone tools as such requires “tool-making tools” (“das
Werkzeug zum Werkzeugherstellen”): “In this we see a trait transcending the
known and expected behaviour of animals: It presupposes possibilities and
achievements which we may view as essentially and specifically human in
nature” (Narr, 1973:62).
Another way of formulating this perspective is to say that it is typical of the
most basic human tools that their ‘end’ is to be a ‘means’! They are formed in
order to produce something else. This approach is on a par with the systematic
characterization Van Riessen gives for a human tool: it is historically (cultur-
ally) founded and qualified (1948:509). Schuurman continues this classifica-
tion in terms of a cultural foundational and qualifying function: “All technical
objects are exceptional in the sense that both their foundational and qualifying
function are cultural or technical in nature” (1972:16).
Instead of referring to the formative or cultural aspect of reality, we prefer to
speak about the technical aspect. The structural conditions of this modal as-
pect require the accountable freedom and inventive imagination of the human
being, the only creature capable of acting responsibly within the matrix of
normative conditions. Therefore, I can see no reason to accept that both the
human being and animals subjectively function in this aspect of reality, as it is
claimed by Hart (1984:179 ff.). In fact, the criterion he uses is just as broad
and non-distinctive as the definition which Reed provides for tools as second-
ary energy-traps (Reed, 1985:95). This definition enables Reed to interpret
the form-products down to the level of unicellular animals as tools. The only
distinction which he employs on the basis of his definition is that between “in-
stinctive and cultural” tool-making (1985:96-97). However, what he consid-
ers to be ‘cultural’ includes both the unique technical abilities of humankind
and the examples of animal behaviour which show that there are animals
which are not totally determined by their instincts. However, this non-instinc-
tive dimension of animal behaviour (sometimes referred to as sensitive intelli-
gence) should not be confused with the technical-formative mode
encompassing all truly cultural activities of the human being.
Henk Hart does explicitly speak about animals as “sentient creature(s)”
(1984:180), but he does not want to explain the instinctive formations of ani-
mals as formative. In order to qualify as ‘formative’ he requires ‘resourceful’
or ‘creative’ behaviour (1985:180). His examples, nevertheless, do not show
that animals are capable of performing tasks evincing a responsible, norma-
tively qualified technical inventiveness. It merely shows that animals can act
in sensitively intelligent ways. Elsewhere he correctly states that all tools are
“technical objects” which are “shaped and designed according to a human
plan” (1984:239).
By considering the tool-making abilities of human beings and animals, one
more and more comes under the impression that the relationship between ana-
tomical and morphological features on the one hand, and particular behav-
ioural patterns on the other hand, are not to be seen in a strictly one-to-one cor-
relation. Narr considers it to be one of the most important results of contempo-
127
rary ethology that it showed that closeness in terms of the zoological system
does not guarantee similarities in behaviour. The reverse is also true: in Pri-
mates which are systematically wide apart from each other, corresponding
behaviour does occur (1974: 109)!
If we add this insight to the uncertainties attached to the fossil evidence con-
cerning human origins, it does not seem unreasonable to support the “docta
ignoratia” proposed by biologists such as Haas, Overhage and Portmann.1
Just compare the following remarkable statement of Overhage:
“Even if, more or less exactly, the fossils could be shown which represent the
stadia through which the human body passed during a long process of evolu-
tion, the problem of the origin and the phylogenetic becoming of humanity
would still not be solved. Whatever the value of this knowledge may be, it pro-
vides only a partial perspective on the genesis of humankind, since it cannot
encompass the total life-form of being human. Because, in the fossil findings,
the boundaries between the bodily morphological features of being human and
that of an animal fade away, and since the spirituality of being human does not
express itself univocally in the mere form, we no longer have any certainty
about the question whether somatic characteristics – such as the erect gait, the
free hand and the cranial capacity (all of which are exactly determinable in
fossil findings) – are standing in a strict correlation to the spiritually stamped
behaviour of the human being, such that it allows us to make claims about the
nature and way in which the primates experienced and viewed the world. ....
The riddle of human genesis is not solvable simply by transforming and
recombining animal proportions” (1973:374-375).

Do animals share the dimension of (human) logicality?


The famous German zoologist, Bernard Rensch, extensively argues, with nu-
merous references to experimental data, that we must assume the presence of
“a-verbal concepts” (1971:9, 197, 242, 245), for instance in the anthropoid
apes. He does qualify this mode of referring to animal behaviour immediately
by stating that the inference of psychical processes of any kind in animals
must be formulated in an “as if” way: “it is more correct to say that chimpan-
zees act as if they were abstracting and generalizing, as if they had formed
a-verbal concepts (i.e., concepts not connected with words), and as if they
were proceeding with intention and foresight” (1971:242; cf. the contrasting
view of Koehler, 1973:199). This should be kept in mind when he discerns
“concepts of value”, a “more or less distinct concept of the self” (243) and
even “primitive aesthetic feelings” (244) present in anthropoid apes. Experi-
ments done with cats show that they are also able to make a choice between
what Rensch calls “two patterns corresponding to an abstract concept of ‘un-
like and like’” (245). These achievements are not so much dependent on the
development of the cortex of the forebrain. With their forebrain only slightly
developed, even fishes can “learn to grasp the significance of up to five pairs
of patterns, and they can retain a pair of patterns for some months and
recognize them even when these are considerably altered” (246).
1 Portmann also stresses the fact that it is no longer tenable to uphold the conviction of a
direct descent of human beings from the anthropoids (1977:461).

128
Clearly, the way in which sentient creatures orient themselves in the world
does show many similarities with human behaviour. The logical point, how-
ever, is that all similarities imply and presuppose differences. In the absence
of differences, we meet identity, not similarities! What are the differences, if
any, in this context of behavioural similarities? Is it enough to say that we “are
not just sensitive to goals and aware of consequences” since “we foresee them
and plan ahead” (cf. Hart, 1984:181)?
If it is possible to show that animals can locate similar entities and afterwards
act accordingly, are we then justified to conclude that they have a-verbal con-
cepts? What do we mean with the term: concept? This question becomes more
urgent when Rensch stresses that his use of the term ‘a-verbal’ is meant to em-
phasize that “a-verbal concepts” in animals do not proceed from logical oper-
ations (1973:118). For this reason, he claims that the trait determining the gap
between humans and the anthropoids is logical thinking (1968:147). Rensch
says that although animals approach causal ‘concepts’ (concerning relations
in different situations), humankind is transcending it in its unique ability to
grasp truly logical relations, expressed in concepts like “as a result of”,
‘because’, “in case of”, and so on.
Cassirer argues that the determination of a concept as “unity in multiplicity”
belongs to the classical legacy of logic and philosophy as such (1929:339).
Whatever is logically grasped cannot fully prescribe in which way the multi-
plicity of features should be united in the unity of a concept (Cassirer,
1928:134), because it is also a result of the real creative element in our think-
ing: the power to discern/observe.1 Logical concept formation is always
aimed at discerning the multiplicity of universal traits of that which is concep-
tualized. As such it is subject to universal (modal) logical norms, such as the
principles of identity and non-contradiction. Although the construction of
each concept is dependent on logical subjectivity - since only a human being
is able to respond with normative freedom to these normative conditions for
logicality - no concept is exclusively the product of our subjective logical
functioning.
Leakey’s announcement that the “ability to see commonalities between ob-
jects of the same type – classes such as trees, fruit, predators, birds, etc – is a
crucial step in creating conceptual order in what otherwise might be an over-
whelming perceptual chaos” (1978:204) ascribes, in a typical Kantian fash-
ion, a truly formal creativity to concept formation. The capacity of the anthro-
poids to recognize perceived objects (in animals limited to a small number of
them) and to associate them with each other (even in different contexts), does

1 It is difficult to find a suitable English equivalent for the German word used by Cassirer:
“...der Aufmerksamkeit als dem eigentlichen schöpferischen Vermögen des Begriffs-
bildung” (1910:31). “... the power of observation as the truly creative ability of concept
formation”.

129
not provide conclusive evidence that they are able to function subjectively in
the analytical aspect of reality.1
The perception of a multiplicity of objects, the sensitive delimitation of partic-
ular perceptual objects or events (capable of exerting a controlling influence
on behaviour in later situations – such as avoiding fire), due to the continuity
provided by the associative ability of animals – all of this are still enclosed
within the domain of sensitively qualified beings. Precisely because our hu-
man capacity to judge is foundational to every act of identification and distin-
guishing, it differs in principle from a merely sensitive delimitation and asso-
ciation.2
A correct logical concept must entail the multiplicity of identified characteris-
tics united in the concept in such a way that logically justified judgements
could be inferred from it. Anything logically known is, by means of subjective
logical conceptualization, logically objectified.3 Objectification is always a
subjective activity, conforming to or contradicting the applicable logical prin-
ciples. Only this perspective can explain why we consider it to be illogical
(i.e., logically incorrect) whenever judgements explicate conceptual elements
which are not analytically implied in the unity of the concept concerned.
Let us take an example. Does the concept of a chair only appeal to its opened
up logical features, or must we assume that all the non-logical characteristics
are implied by opening up the logical object-function of a chair? If these
non-logical characteristics are not implied, an unbridgeable gap, plainly, ex-
ists between the logical subject-object relation and the non-logical aspects of
a chair (in connection with the structure of analysis, cp. Strauss, 1984). We
have to conclude, therefore, that in making the logical object-function of a
chair patent (manifest), the non-logical (modal) characteristics (specified ac-
cording to the typical entitary uniqueness of the chair) are also logically
objectified. Therefore, the multiplicity combined in the unity of the concept of
a chair enables us to make predications like: this chair is beautiful (aesthetic
feature); this chair is expensive (economic); this chair is big (spatial); this
chair is heavy (physical); and so on. If these (modal) characteristics were not
analytically implied in the correct concept of a chair, all these mentioned
statements (explicating them in distinct judgements) would, in a logical sense,
be contradictory. In other words, if the correct concept of the chair does not
imply these characteristics in an analytical way to begin with, they cannot af-
1 Leakey also refers to the use of signs by chimpanzees and gorillas. With the aid of differ-
ent ‘sign-labels’ these animals are supposed to be able to generalize to cognitively eco-
nomical concepts (essential for language): “For instance, Lucy calls a watermelon a
drink fruit; Washoe refers to ducks as water birds, and she invented the name rock berry
for a brazil nut when she first encountered one” (1978:202).
2 O. Koehler explicitly claims the contrary: “In the absence of verbal language, we call
such an operation with representations, concepts and judgements, founded on intuitions
without bearing any names, unnamed thinking” (1973:119).
3 This objectification is nothing but the opening up of the logical object-function of enti-
ties.

130
terwards be predicated of the chair, except illogically: From: P is non-Q; one
cannot infer: P is Q.
But if it is granted that animals cannot argue and cannot infer in a logical or an
illogical way, shown in judgements which (do not) conform to logical princi-
ples (such as the principium identitatis and the principium contradictionis),
are we not justified in maintaining that they do function up to the level of
(a-verbal) concept formation? This question amounts to the following one:
Are there non-logical concepts? and: are animals capable of forming illogical
concepts?! We only have to think about the well-known example of Bertrand
Russell: a square circle. Our lingual ability to designate entitary analogies, as
distinct from modal analogies (such as the modal difference between mathe-
matical space – which is continuous and infinitely divisible – and physical
space – which is not continuous, since it is bound to the quantum structure of
energy and therefore is not infinitely divisible), is known to us in the form of
metaphors (viz. “foot of the mountain”). In our case we only have to think
about the nature of a “boxing ring”. If the sign-mode of reality was not distinct
from the logical mode, then this metaphor would have been an assertion that a
square circle exists!
Remark: In spite of the fact that Henk Hart has a clear view on the nature
of modal analogies, he does not distinguish between modal analogies
(anti- and retrocipations) and entitary analogies (designated by meta-
phors). His initial thesis is that an analogy is an interfunctional rela-
tionship (Hart, 1984:87, cf. 153). True examples of interfunctional
analogies are mentioned by Hart – such as analogies of growth (158)
and the modal difference between social distance and spatial distance
(171, cf. 205). However, he constantly equates them with ‘metaphors’
(cf. 1984:153, 156, 158, 160). A metaphor can be replaced by another
one totally different from it. This is not possible with modal analogies:
every replacement simply turns out to be synonymous with the original
one!
This concept is illogical because both the identification and the distinguishing
are not conforming the relevant logical principles, viz. the principle of identity
and the principle of non-contradiction: (in Euclidean space) a circle is a circle
(correct identification), and: a circle is not a ‘non-circle’ (such as a square –
correct distinguishing).
Bernard Rensch mentions the fact that, in Münster, experimentalists have
tried for half a year to teach chimpanzees to copy a given drawing of a square
or triangle, but without any success (1968:148). My question is: if these ani-
mals are not even able to draw these figures, how are we going to be con-
vinced that they truly have the concept of a square or the concept of a triangle?
We must remember that a concept is something different from a sensory pic-
ture which can be associated with something else (cf. Overhage, 1972:252) –
as is the case in the so-called ‘name-giving’ mentioned by Leakey. The deci-
sive point, however, in showing that they do possess these concepts, would be
to show that they can think illogically by forming, for example, the self-con-
tradictory concept of a “triangular square” or a “square triangle”! This has
131
never been shown by any of the experiments referred to by the mentioned au-
thors. In other words, animals are simply not able to function subjectively in
the analytical aspect of reality. Consequently, it should not be surprising that
they are unable to think – be it in a logically correct way or illogically!
Does this imply that we cannot ascribe any form of intelligent behaviour to
animals? Buytendijk refers to ethological research in order to substantiate his
conclusion that the animal world merely shows gradual differences in this re-
spect. “Every species has its own practical intelligence, limited by disposition
and experience” (1970:98). This conclusion presupposes his basic distinction
between animal and human intelligence. When, in a given situation, human
beings and animals will pursue a similar goal, they will experience similar
emotional drives. However, what is absent in the case of the animal, is action
on the basis of judgements: “Therefore, one defines animal intelligence as the
concrete experiential and senso-motoric structuring of practical behaviour,
whereas human intelligence displays itself as a rational-logical, categorically
judging conceptualization of the task-setting nature of the concrete situation
and the discovery of a solution which does not follow from the immediate sen-
sory effect of the situation” (1970:97). Overhage, rejecting the anthropomor-
phic mode of speech present in the writings of Rensch, Koehler and Lorenz,
emphasizes that animal form-perception does not result in genuine concept
formation, since it remains enclosed within the sensory-perceptive sphere
(1965:307; cf. Overhage 1972:251-276).
The human being as “Homo symbolicus”?
The uniqueness of being human is sometimes sought in morality, in the ability
to commit suicide, in the consciousness of death (Dobzhansky) or in the lin-
gual potential of being human (Cassirer, Von Bertalanffy). Cassirer (cf.1944)
introduced the well-known distinction between signals and symbols. The for-
mer belongs to the physical world of being and the latter is a part of the human
world of meaning, the world of human culture. Von Bertalanffy says that
symbolism “if you will, is the divine spark distinguishing the most perfectly
adapted animal from the poorest specimen of the human race” (1968:20). In
order to identify symbols, he uses three criteria: (i) symbols are representa-
tive, i.e., the symbol stands in one way or the other for the thing symbolized;
(ii) secondly, symbols are transmitted by tradition, i.e., by learning processes
of the individual in contrast to innate instincts; (iii) finally, symbols are freely
created (1968:15, cf. 1968a:134).
Helmut Plessner wants to transcend the self-contradictory notion of an
‘entelechie’, presented to him by his tutor Hans Driesch. As an alternative, he
introduces the notion of positionality. Physical entities are delimited by the
surrounding environment. In the case of organic entities, this delimitation be-
longs to the entity itself (for example, the membrane), and thus evinces
positionality (1975:291). This concept provides the possibility to view hu-
mankind as belonging to the last level of living beings. Animals are consid-
ered to be closed and centric, distinguished from the human being as an eccen-
tric (and relatively ‘Weltoffen’) living being (1975:292). The first anthropo-
132
logical ‘Grundgesetz’ (fundamental law) mentioned at the end of his Book:
“Die Stufen des Organischen und des Menschen” (1928, reprint 1965) states
the “vermittelte Unmittelbarkeit” (mediated immediateness) valid for all
eccentric positions (cf. 1975:297).
Language positions itself in between the grasp of the hand and the view of the
eye – the eye as the “organ of making-something-immediately-present”.
Thus, in various respects, the hand and the eye become dispensable (cf. Hofer,
1972:203). Animal communication, according to Plessner, does not know a
“mediation through objects” (1975a:380, cf.379). Surely, this phenomenon is
particularly remarkable, since, in the domain of human sensitivity, the sense
of seeing and of the sense of touching dominate that of smelling (cf. Haeffner,
1982:16).
Precisely by means of the mediated immediateness of language, human be-
ings possess an awareness of the past and the future – an awareness taking the
limited life-span of being human into consideration. This explains the
uniquely human awareness of death as well as the possibility to commit
suicide.
The communication of animals does not refer to the distant past or remote fu-
ture – it is restricted to the immediate needs of the animal. As a consequence,
the ‘signs’ used by animals (signals, in terms of Cassirer’s distinction), are
strictly univocal. Just compare the remarkable dance of the bees where the (i)
tempo, (ii) the direction and (iii) the tangent is constantly associated with the
(i) distance, (ii) location and (iii) the course to be followed in order to reach
the detected source (cf. Overhage, 1972:220 ff.). Lingual signs, on the con-
trary, presuppose choice and therefore require interpretation (cf. Nida,
1979:203; De Klerk, 1978:6).
Furthermore, it is striking that the typical human lingual ability is dependent
on specific anatomical conditions absent in the anthropoids.
The anatomical conditions of human speech
Ever since Descartes it was believed that the uniqueness of the human brain is
responsible for human language. The result was that anatomists insisted that
anthropoids also have the ‘machinery’ available to articulate speech. The or-
der of primates – which includes human beings according to the prevalent
classification – is nevertheless, of course with the exception of humans, un-
able to vocalize. The ability to reproduce human speech sounds as it is found
in birds is totally absent in the mammals. The vocal potential of the gorilla and
urangutan is exceptionally poor. The chimpanzee is somewhat better off, and
the gibbon can produce sounds covering almost an octave. All these anthro-
poids, however, completely lack the playful sounds produced by the human
suckling. The unprecedented possibilities of human sound production tran-
scend that of the anthropoids by far. In addition since this human sound
production also displays an exceptionally rich modifiability (Overhage, 1972:
242).
Post mortem studies of the upper respiratory tract in mammals as well as cine-
radiographic studies have shown that the position of the larynx is crucial in
133
determining the way in which an individual breathe, swallow and vocalize
(Laitman, 1985:281). This implies that there are certain anatomical peculiari-
ties which go hand in hand with the contribution of brain functioning in the
production of human speech, in particular the gradual descent of the larynx af-
ter the post-natal period (cf. Portmann, 1973:423).
The failure of the anthropoids to imitate human sounds follows from the to-
tally different structure of their larynx. In all anthropoids it is positioned ex-
tremely high in the neck. Laitman remarks: “This high position permits the
epiglottis to pass up behind the soft palate to lock the larynx into the
nasopharynx, providing a direct air channel from the nose through the naso-
pharynx, larynx and trachea to the lungs. ..... In essence, two separate path-
ways are created: a respiratory tract from the nose to the lungs, and a digestive
tract from the oral cavity to the esophagus. While this basic mammalian pat-
tern – found with variations from dolphins to apes – enables an individual to
breathe and swallow simultaneously, it severely limits the array of sounds an
animal can produce. ... While some animals can approximate some human
speech sounds, they are anatomically incapable of producing the range of
sounds necessary for complete, articulate speech” (1985:282, cf. Goertler,
1972:249).
In order to provide the newborn human suckling with a milk tract separate
from the respiratory tract, the position of the human larynx at birth is the same
as in that of the mammals. In the period between the first and second year this
highly positioned larynx starts its descent in the neck. This downward move-
ment creates the pharynx cavity, necessary for the articulation of the richer
voice disposition present in human beings. Laitman declares that the precise
time this shift occurs, as well as the physiologic mechanisms which underlie it
are still poorly understood (1985:282). As soon as the larynx reaches its des-
tined low position, it can no longer lock into the nasopharynx. Consequently,
in human beings, the respiratory and digestive pathways cross above the lar-
ynx. This creates the possibility to suffocate, which surely is, evaluated in it-
self, something negative. However, it is precisely this expanded pharynx
which provides the human being with its unique potential to produce a rich va-
riety of speech sounds. The palate between the mouth and nose cavities serve
as resonance basis for the produced sounds. Goerttler even mentions the fact
that in the third month after conception a distinctively human structural
element develops (it is called the vocal chord ‘blastem’ – 1972:250).
It is interesting to note in this connection that Laitman informs us that the
basicranial similarities between the Australopithecines and extant apes sug-
gest that their upper respiratory tract was also similar in appearance. Conse-
quently, as with the living nonhuman primates, the pharynx portion available
for sound modification in these early hominids would have been greatly re-
stricted: “As a result, these early hominids probably had a very restricted vo-
cal repertoire as compared with modern adult humans. For example, the high
larynx would have made it impossible for them to produce some of the univer-
sal vowel sounds found in human speech patterns” (1985:284). His conjecture
is that the first instances of full basicranial flexion similar to modern humans
134
do not appear until the arrival of Homo sapiens (estimated by him at 300,000
to 400,000 years ago): “It may have been at this time that hominids with upper
respiratory tracts similar to ours first appeared” (1985:286).
Do human beings have ‘speech-organs’?
This question points at another astonishing feature of human speech produc-
tion. If we define a speech-organ as that bodily part which exists solely in ser-
vice of the production of speech sounds, then we are in for a surprise. Let us
enumerate possible candidates: the lungs, larynx, mouth cavity, palate, teeth,
lips and nose cavity. Without an exception, all these organs perform primary
functions which would normally proceed even if a person never utters one word
(Overhage, 1972:243)! Human language simply takes hold of all these differ-
ent organs in the production of speech sounds.
This highly developed and subtle cooperation, especially of three organs so
heterogeneous in character as the mouth, the larynx and the brain integrated in
the production of speech sounds, makes it rather difficult, if not hopeless, to
provide us with an evolutionistic causal explanation of this astonishing phe-
nomenon. The question arises what number of miraculous changes should
have occurred to produce the articulation conditions necessary for truly hu-
man language formation. “Such an unfathomable process of change affecting
so many differently structured organs and organ complexes, closely corre-
lated with each other, should have proceeded harmoniously as a total change,
if it was to come to the unprecedented perfection of human speech” (Over-
hage, 1972:250).
Does human experience of the world differ from that of the animals?
In the course of our discussion we often referred to the role of instinct in ani-
mal life. Adolf Portmann is convinced that animals are actually determined by
their instincts and that they are restricted to a particular ambient (1969:86).
The way in which animals experience the world is completely determined by
their natural dispositions. They are only concerned with that which has a di-
rect physical, biotic and sensitive meaning to them. Consequently, they expe-
rience reality in terms of places suitable for walking or flying (physical acces-
sibility), in terms of sex partners and other animals belonging or not belonging
to the same species, in terms of what can be eaten and what not (biotical inter-
est), and in terms of things or events which are causing anxiety or which may
be comforting (sensitive concern) (cf. Landmann, 1969:162 ff.).
The instinct determinedness of animals function in a remarkable way. Due to
inherited coordinations (concerning the motoric dimension) and inborn “trig-
gering-off” mechanisms (Auslösemechanismus; concerning the domain of re-
ceptivity), particular animals, in given circumstances, can act instinctively
and in predetermined ways. These instinctive behaviour patterns are inherited
and not learned. Eibl-Eibesfeldt gives the example of a squirrel with its act of
burying a nut. Normally, these animals bury collected acorns or nuts individu-
ally in the ground. In doing it, they perform certain typical actions such as run-
ning around, laying down the nut and burying it covered with soil. When a
squirrel is raised in an artificially isolated cage without ever being given a nut,
135
the mature squirrel will, when presented with one, exactly execute the typical
‘burial ceremony’ (Eibl-Eibesfeldt, 1972:5). This demonstrates that a
‘programmed series of actions’ could be triggered off by a specific stimulus.
The world of different animals differs, and so differs the world of animals and
human beings. Von Bertalanffy explains one of the examples delineating the
ambients of various animals as follows: “Take, for instance, a tick lurking in
the bushes for a passing mammal in whose skin it settles and drinks itself full
of blood. The signal is the odour of the butyric acid, flowing from the dermal
glands of all mammals. Following this stimulus, it plunges down; if it fell on a
warm body – as monitored off by this sensitive thermal sense – it has reached
its prey, a warm-blooded animal, and only needs to find, aided by tactile
sense, a hair-free place to pierce in. Thus the rich environment of the tick
shrinks to metamorphize into a scanty configuration out of which only three
signals, beaconlike, are gleaming which, however, suffice to lead the animal
surely to its goal” (1973:241).
Another well-known example, given by Von Uexküll, concerns an oak tree.
Different kinds of animals ‘dissect’ their own different ambients (Umwelten)
from the tree – constantly enclosed within the above mentioned parameters
concerning their physical, biotical and sensitive needs (Von Uexküll,
1970:98, 100). He discusses the life-worlds of animals like the jackal, squir-
rel, owl, ant and beetle. Although human beings also have access to these di-
mensions, one cannot say that his experience is closed by or limited to these
perspectives. Human functionality encompasses, but also transcends the
physical, biotical and sensitive aspects of the tree. To the botanist the tree may
be an analytical object of scientific investigation; a person going for a walk
may experience its beauty; a criminal can use it as a hiding place, the carpenter
may use its wood to manufacture furniture, and so on. Therefore, human be-
ings are able to experience the tree in a variety of ways which are inaccessible
to animals.
Human functioning is neither completely determined by instincts, nor is it
limited to only one ‘Umwelt’, simply because the whole bodily existence of
human beings is directed towards and is guided by normatively qualified
view-points. The tremendous flexibility of human functioning executed
within these normative aspects of reality, makes it possible for human society
to develop up to a level with far-reaching forms of differentiation and special-
ization, expressed in the mutlifarious roles which any person in such a society
can assume. Even Simpson stresses this insight: “Such specialization, which
is non-genetic, requires individual flexibility and could not occur in a mainly
instinctive animal” (1969:90). Hart states it with concise clarity: “A worker
ant is just that – and all its functions are geared to being a worker ant. A human
being, on the other hand, has multiple roles to play and is not exhausted in any
of them” (1984:146). However, this human-spiritual specialization and flexi-
bility is dependent on a relatively unspecialized bio-psychical basis and foun-
dation. Because Van Uexküll extended his ‘Umweltlehre’ also to the level of
human beings, Portmann points out that we should take caution in this respect.
A comparison between the different ambients experienced at a tree and the
136
different domains of human functioning, does show the important differences
still present. The societal structure of human life enables communal under-
standing between all the differentiated societal spheres, something lacking
between the ambients of different animals (Preface in Von Uexküll,
1970:XIV).

The unspecialized traits of the human body


Seen from a morphological perspective, human beings lack the highly spe-
cialized organs necessary to be perfectly adapted to a particular habitat.
Gehlen refers to the archaic (in the sense of primitive/unspecialized) features
displayed by the human organs (1971:86 ff.). Human denture is remarkably
unspecialized if compared to those of the higher animals: it is not specialized
solely for the eating of plants or for the eating of meat. There are no gaps
(diastema) between our teeth – something typical of the highly specialized na-
ture of the more developed mammals. By contrast we only have to compare it
with the distance between the eye-teeth and front molars of the anthropoids
which is closely connected with the way in which the latter are specialized to
become canine teeth (Gehlen, 1971:92). Similarly, the human hand (Gehlen,
1971:98) and foot (Gehlen, 1971:100) represent a primitive state in compari-
son with the anthropoids (such as the orangutan, gorilla and chimpanzee).
Altner points out that the teeth of the anthropoids are also relatively unspecial-
ized. Nevertheless, he does not deny the general tendency present in the
phenomena lifted out by Gehlen (1972:199-202).
It should be noted that Gehlen does not use the term primitive in the sense of
lower but only in the meaning of unspecialized. According to the predominant
neo-Darwinist evolutionist approach there merely exists unidirectional evolu-
tionary change: from the less specialized to the more specialized. The Belgian
geologist, Dollo, formulated this in terms of his law of irreversible specializa-
tion. But if this law is universally applicable to all evolutionary change, as it is
still upheld by Simpson and other dominant neo-Darwinistic thinkers, how
can we ‘save’ the anthropoids as candidates for being ancestral to human be-
ings? Clearly, they are specialized. However, accepting Dollo’s law seem-
ingly makes it impossible to deduce the unspecialized features of human be-
ings from the specialized traits of the anthropoids. To satisfy these strange
conditions, one has to find (or: hypothetically construe) a transitional form
which should unite radically opposed traits: archaic human features and spe-
cialized animal characteristics. Gehlen remarks that this would produce such a
monstrous and miraculous being that it should be awarded a fantastic and sep-
arate position in the total realm of animals (1971:87-88)! Notwithstanding
these difficulties, two escape routes have been explored!
(i) Adloff and Klaatsch constructed an hypothetical ‘primitive form’ which
is so unspecialized that, on the one hand, it can serve as a basis and start-
ing-point for modern human beings, and, on the other hand, may repre-
sent the root enabling the branch which developed into the specialization
present in the anthropoids. Obviously, this construction is begging the
question, since it actually starts from a form which is so ‘human’ that the
137
supposed order of descent is reversed: human beings are ancestral to the
anthropoids (cf. Gehlen, 1971:95)!
(ii) Another possibility is to ignore Dollo’s law of irreversible specialization
by considering the phenomenon of neoteny, i.e. the persistence of larval
features in the adult organism. Neoteny is found in various kinds of ani-
mals, such as worms, insects and amphibians. The Dutch anatomist,
Louis Bolk, used this phenomenon to explain certain human features.
The remarkable similarities between human beings and the chimpanzees
concerning the unspecialized and archaic nature of human organs, in-
spired Bolk to explain human beings in terms of the notion of
fetalization (stabilization of pre-natal traits) and the idea that human de-
velopment underwent a certain retardation. In other words, in human
beings the infantile characteristics of the ape became fixed because the
mature ape-form was no longer reached, while maintaining even fetal
marks. Consequently, in this approach, as Landmann remarks, human
beings are not ancestral to the apes, since they are themselves nothing
but infantile apes (1969:148)!
Konrad Lorenz, the Nobel prize-winner of 1973 (together with Tinbergen and
Von Frisch), added to this theory of Bolk the life-long curiosity of human be-
ings which correspond with the youthful curiosity of the chimpanzees: “The
constitutive hall-mark of human beings, their persistent, creatively active en-
gagement with their ambient (Umwelt), is a phenomenon of neoteny”
(1973:183-184). Nietzsche once remarked: in every adult human being a child
is concealed. Lorenz reverses this statement: in every child a mature person
hides, eager to do research. The curious child, which disappeared completely
in the full-grown chimpanzee, is not hidden in adult humanhood, since it
controls the latter fully (1973:184, cf.242).

To this approach Lorenz adds another perspective, following from the study
of domesticated animals, namely that of self-domestication. Domesticated an-
imals differ in some typical hereditary features from wild-living forms. These
characteristics emerged in the process of domestication. For example, all do-
mestic animals show a measure of spots, display a shortening of the extremi-
ties and the basicranial structure, are inclined to fatten easily, while an impor-
tant increase in the domain of variation of all possible features of the species
appear. Already E. Fischer pointed out that the pigment-division present in
human eyes which are blue or grey is, though totally absent in all wild-living
animals, in a corresponding way fully present in almost all domestic animals.
Among the changes caused by the self-domestication of human beings,
Lorenz is counting both the retardation and fetalization mentioned by Bolk.
According to Lorenz, cave inhabitation represents the desicive step in the pro-
cess of the self-domestication of human beings. This account, however, is not
in accordance with what we know. A number of the most typical features of
“becoming domestic” are totally absent in the case of human beings. We only
have to mention the early sexual maturity and the constant or decreasing brain
development of domestic animals – both phenomena which are completely
reversed in human beings (cf. Gehlen, 1971:121 and Overhage, 1967:3-4)!
138
Furthermore, an appeal to phenomena of domestication calls upon factors not
operative in the domain of non-human living organisms (cf. Overhage,
1967:4). Becoming a domesticated animal presupposes the cultural care of
human beings as human beings! The absurd implication of this argument
about self-domestication is already formulated by Von Eickstedt more than
fifty years ago: “Culture, then, must be older than human beings, since it influ-
enced humankind in its bodily development. It was not humankind who
formed culture, because culture moulded humankind” (1934:121)! In other
words, this view on self-domestication reverses the cultural subject-object re-
lation, by making the human being, the cultural subject, an object of cultural
control and moulding.
When the instincts of animals deteriorate, owing to the fact that they become
accustomed to the care of human beings, they do not develop any compensat-
ing faculties. Landmann goes a bit too far when he emphasizes that the pecu-
liar capacities of human beings do not need any instincts (1969:148), because
we must acknowledge that human beings still have instincts, however poorly
they are equipped with them if compared with the existence of animals that is
secured by their instancts. However, Landmann is fully justified in saying that
a ‘wild’ human form, dominated by instincts, never existed and never could
have existed.
Even if we want to reject Dollo’s law, and support this rejection with Lorenz’s
theory of retardation, fetalization and neoteny, unanswered questions keep
popping up. According to Gehlen it seems absolutely impossible to under-
stand in what sense the development of thought and language would have en-
dowed human beings with a selective advantage in comparison with the an-
thropoids. The question should also be asked: in a fight against what would
the prolonged and helpless youthful period of human beings provide them
with a selective advantage in stead of being a serious and life-endangering
disadvantage (cf. Gehlen, 1971:125)?
Traditionally it was thought that human beings possess something lacking in
animals: intelligence (wisdom). This legacy is reflected in the currently still
generally accepted (evolutionist) classification of human beings as Homo sa-
piens. If we compare human beings, however, with the high level of special-
ization present in the anthropoids, we must conclude that human beings are
lacking something, namely specialization. Must we conclude, then, that the
“structural design” of human beings show shortcomings?
Is the human being to be seen as a deficient creature?
This notion stems from Gehlen (cf. 1971:20, 30, 80, 354). Indeed, if we com-
pare the natural predispositions of human beings with the countless possibili-
ties at the disposal of different animals, is does look as if human beings are
treated niggardly by nature. HuMan beings are much slower than many wild
animals. They do not have natural protective hair covering his body. The hu-
man senses are truncated in comparison with the sharpness and alertness of
the senses of the animals. Human beings do not have natural and dangerous
weapons. They do not possess the muscle power, claws or jaws of any preda-
139
tor. Some animals can register supersonic waves, some can see ultra-violet
rays as light, while there are fishes that can perceive electrical fields. Birds
orient themselves, by means of their remarkable navigating systems, to the
magnetic poles of the earth. And all these ways of experience are withheld
from human beings (cf. Portmann, 1970:200 ff.).
If we measure human beings with the yardstick of an animal, we are almost
doomed to evaluate them as animals that failed! But as soon as we reverse the
perspective and acknowledge the uniquely human features which differenti-
ate human beings so clearly from animals, a different picture arises. Portmann
explains this with the following example:
“The narrow limitedness of animal interest is opposed to flexible freedom of
choice present in human beings. An animal can transcend the bondage to its
drives only to a limited degree, whereas I am able, in every moment and ac-
cording to my total power to discern, encompassing my full inner-participat-
ing dedication, to pay attention to something, however minute and unimpor-
tant it may appear to be” (1974:102).
Why is it that some scholars emphasize the unspecialized nature of human be-
ings and even call them deficient beings? Notions like the unspecialized na-
ture of human beings and the qualification deficient being only play a role if
we choose the natural disposition of animals as basis of comparison. If we
loose sight of this implicit choice, the objection of Hans Freyer would have
been completely valid. Initially, the fiction is postulated that human beings are
animals and then, only afterwards, it turns out that in this capacity human be-
ings would represent something highly insufficient which, as such, is an im-
possibility! The erect gait, the free hand with the strongly opposing thumb
(serving the formative cultural fantasy mentioned earlier) and the spiritually
stamped facial expression of human beings - all these features reveal the true
nature of humankind - to take over an expression from Lorenz - as a specialist
in being unspecialized.
Gehlen is inclined to see the distinctively human functions of human beings as
something compensating the lack of being instinctively secured. However,
precisely the opposite is the case. The physical, biotic and sensitive dimen-
sions of human existence are fully geared towards the normatively stamped
cultural life of being human. This cultural disposition, which should be con-
sidered to be our first nature (and not our second nature, as Portmann be-
lieves), come to the fore in the ability to think, to conceptualize and to argue
intelligently. It is also seen in the technical ability to manufacture tools after a
free project manifesting a free formative fantasy, in the lingual competence to
discern and articulate meaningful speech sounds and to interpret those
produced by fellow human beings correctly, and so on.
The analytical ability of a person, enabling that person to identify (i.e., the lift-
ing out of certain features) and distinguish (i.e., by disregarding other fea-
tures), is foundational to the technical functioning of human beings: to pro-
duce something fantasized after a free project, presupposes an analytical abil-
ity (including conceptualization) in the mentioned sense. Although Hart ar-
gues for a place of the formative/technical aspect before the analytical aspect
140
(1984:179 ff.), in a different context he does argue for the foundational role of
concept formation: “Much reality contains concepts as constitutive elements
of its nature. Almost all typically human products, nearly all of what we refer
to as culture, cannot exist except through conceptualization. Without our hav-
ing concepts of these realities we cannot produce them” (1984:411, note 28).
This is a good argument in favour of placing the logical aspect before the tech-
nical-formative aspect in the order of cosmic modalities! Although it is not the
place here to give elaborate arguments for it, I want to mention the fact that the
same applies to the sign-mode of reality (called the symbolic aspect by Hart,
which he also places before the analytical aspect – 1984:180 ff.). All typical
semantic phenomena, such as synonymity, antonymity, redundance, meta-
phoricity, and so on, not only presuppose the analytical aspect but only have
meaning if these two aspects are distinct and irreducible (cf. Strauss,
1981:5-32).

The functioning of human beings in these different normative spheres of real-


ity, sometimes highly differentiated in a social sense, cannot fully be ac-
counted for in merely functional terms. Hart correctly states that the integral
identity of the human person transcends human functionality. He then pro-
ceeds: “Human responsibility and accountability point to another dimension
of human existence besides the functional dimension, namely, the spiritual.
The spiritual in humanity cannot be fully understood as functionality, al-
though it can be understood only if we understand it in terms of functionality”
(1984:270). Whereas material things, plants and animals are respectively
stamped and qualified by particular aspects (viz. the physical, the biotic and
the sensitive), the uniqueness of being human is precisely seen from the fact
that no functional human activity can ever enclose or encompass all of our hu-
man functionality. Once again Hart puts it well-formulated to us: “In the life
of a person, there is not a single qualifying function that structurally unites
and integrates all of human experience” (1984:276). This also explains why
human functionality is open, through faith, to being committed to the
acceptance of what lies beyond the limits of subjectivity (cf. Hart, 1984:277).

I would prefer, as Dooyeweerd does in his A New Critique (cf. 1997-III:


87-89), to deny the possibility of a human realm or kingdom (Hart consis-
tently affirms such a kingdom – cf. 1984:268 ff.). Of course this is dependent
on the definition we give for a realm. Hart defines it by saying that realms are
categories of existence according to principles of order (1984:268). This defi-
nition introduces something ambiguous between Hart’s different realms, be-
cause the three realms of material, vegetative and animal existence are all
uniquely qualified by a single modal function, whereas the “human realm” is
not qualified by any single function at all (cf. Hart, 1984:276-7).

Before we consider a number of diverging perspectives on the nature of hu-


man freedom, we still have to pay attention to the uniqueness of our human
functioning within the biotical aspect of reality. The relevant material for this
analysis is amply provided by Portmann (1969).
141
The ontogenetic1 uniqueness of being human
In order to compare the ontogenetic developmental nature of humans with that
of the animals, Portmann distinguishes two distinct developmental types:
Nesthocker and Nestflüchter. ‘Nesthocker’, on the one hand, encompass all
those animals which are born with closed eyes, which are naked and helpless
at birth, and which need the care of their parents in providing the necessary
food as well as a prepared nest. ‘Nestflüchter’, on the other hand, are repre-
sented by all those animals which, at birth, are capable of moving similarly to
their full-grown parents. At birth their eyes are open as well as their auditory
canals, while their posture and bodily proportions exactly correspond with
those of the mature members of the species.
Mammals falling within the category of ‘Nesthocker’ are born after a short
period of pregnancy – about 20 to 30 days. Portmann mentions insectivore
(primitive insect eating mammals), gnawers and some predators. The number
of new-born animals per litter is relatively large – from 5 to 22. The higher de-
veloped ‘Nestflüchter’ have a long period of pregnancy (more than 50 days
and sometimes longer than 20 weeks), while, in most species, their new-born
offspring are limited to 1 or 2 (seldom 4). Examples of this category are
ungulates, sea lions, wales, horses and monkeys). Mammals with a less devel-
oped brain are born as ‘Nesthocker’, such as the squirrel, house mouse, red
jackal, domestic cat and tiger. Mammals possessing a more highly developed
brain, experiencing a long growth period within the mothers womb, enter the
world as ‘Nestflüchter’, such as the pig, beast, horse, sheep, sea lion and wale)
(Portmann, 1969 chapter II).
In order to substantiate this classification, Portmann uses a number of differ-
ent and independent criteria.2 For example, the growth of the brain is a very
important element in the development of an individual. By comparing the
rates of increase present in the mammals (with a factor of 5 functioning as the
dividing line), Portmann shows that ‘Nesthocker’ and ‘Nestflüchter’ are
uniquely differentiated – the latter group showing a factor greater than 5 and
the former showing one less than 5 (cf. 1969:50)!
The obvious question is: are human beings ‘Nesthocker’ or are they ‘Nest-
flüchter’? Human beings are born helpless, unable to care for themselves and
unable to move like a young or mature human being. Just as the ‘Nesthocker’
it is necessary to care for them. Is this condition sufficient to classify them as
belonging to the ‘Nesthocker’? No, the answer must be negative, because hu-
man beings are born with something typical of the ‘Nestflüchter’, viz. open
eyes and an open auditory canal! But then, surely we have to classify them as
‘Nestflüchter’. However, nor that will do. In sharp contrast to the ‘Nest-
1 Haeckel's theory of recapitulation, stating that ontogeny is a succinct recapitulation of
phylogeny, is shown to be scientifically completely unjustifiable (cf. Overhage, 1959c).
2 As a result of solely concentrating on the head (partly caused by the fact that, in fossil
findings, the skull is easier accessible), Bolk introduced his mentioned fetalization the-
ory, postulating the persistence of pre-natal features in the human form. Portmann re-
marks that as soon as the bodily proportions of animals are taken into account, these as-
sumptions are contradicted by the facts (1969:46).

142
flüchter’, whose bodily proportions are similar to those of the full-grown
members of their respective species, at birth human beings are completely
‘disproportionate’ in comparison with their mature state, once again shifting
them back to the already unsuitable category of the ‘Nesthocker’! Conse-
quently, the only reasonably justified conclusion, based on the defining fea-
tures of these two categories of mammals, is that human beings belong to
neither of them!

Furthermore, at birth the mass of the human brain exceeds that of the anthro-
poids at least 2-times (about 370 gram, compared to the 150 gram of the
orangutan or the chimpanzee brain). In comparison with the anthropoids, hu-
man beings are born too early – almost a year to soon, because only after an
age of one year human beings reach a development similar to that of the typi-
cal mammals at their birth. This means that, for a genuine human-like mam-
mal, i.e. “for a true animal-human or human-animal”, an extra year is needed
(Portmann, 1969:58). Portmann is convinced that this “too-early-birth-stage”
(physiologischen Frühgeburt) can only be understood in terms of a broader
perspective. He speaks about an “extra uterine” period/year in the biotic
development of human beings (1969:87 ff.).

During the second part of the first year the typical human features of the de-
veloping baby start emerging, such as the erect posture, analytical insight, lan-
guage use, free decisions, and son on. All these activities are developing
within the cultural milieu of human society. The fact that these phenomena
occur within the first post-natal year, corresponding with the period in which
the higher mammals are still in the womb, shows that the “extra uterine year”
of the human being is destined to be taken up in the typical human way of
transferring culture. The retardation of the growth rate from the 2nd to the 9th
year also reveals a directedness towards the complicated processes of learning
and appropriation which enable a person to master the vast cultural legacy
present in the society within which he is growing up. Corresponding to the rel-
atively long youth period, the human being experiences also a relatively long
period of maturity, providing time to transfer, to the next generation, the
heritage of successive generations by means of educational processes and
institutions.

By and large, all these perspectives simply add weight to the conclusion that,
in spite of the fact that we have to acknowledge that both human beings and
animals function within the biotical aspect of reality, we must constantly keep
in mind that our human biotical functioning is totally unique, clearly shown in
his exceptional ontogenetic growth pattern. Portmann emphatically declares:
“In strict correlation to the measure in which we see our form of existence
more clearly, we become more certain that the question about the origin of hu-
mankind, as well as the equally difficult question about the rise of the big
‘form-spheres’ (Gestaltenkreise) of the living, are not answerable with the
research tools at our disposal” (1969:163).
143
Human freedom – the predominantly negative approach of modern
philosophy
As is shown extensively and convincingly in the writings of Dooyeweerd,
modern philosophy received its ultimate directional impulse from the dialecti-
cal opposition which prevailed between the ideal of an all-encompassing
causal (natural scientific) explanation on the one hand, and the ideal of the hu-
man being as an autonomously free personality on the other hand – i.e., the
motive of nature and freedom (cf. 1997-I:207 ff., 216 ff.).
Autonomous freedom versus natural causality
At the birth of modern philosophy, during and after the Renaissance, a new
ideal of an autonomously free personality came to the fore, although its first
aim was to master nature rationally with the aid of the newly developing natu-
ral sciences. Descartes’ emphasis on the maxim that our ideas should be clear
and distinct (considering clearness to be more fundamental than distinctness –
Principles, XLVI), is orientated towards mathematics as model of thought.
Even the certainty that God exists is only accomplished by clear and distinct
understanding – showing – in the final analysis, that he uses the idea of God in
order to furnish his deified mathematical thought with the feature of certainty,
thus stamping the infallibility of the new mathematical method of analysis.
Having mentioned Galilei’s mathematization of nature and modern phy-
sicalistic rationalism, Edmund Husserl characterizes this new phase in mod-
ern philosophy as having given birth to a rationalistic ideal of science
(rationalistischen Wissenschaftsideal – 1954:119).
However, the modern freedom motive which, almost with an inner necessity,
gave birth to the domination motive in the science-ideal (nature motive), fi-
nally came into conflict with itself. If the whole of reality, by means of “recon-
structing creative thought” could be framed in terms of exact and inexorable
natural laws of cause and effect (universal determinism), it stands to reason
that the freedom of the supposedly autonomous personality is reduced to, and
determined by, invariable causal laws of nature without any freedom at all!
The science-ideal turned out to be a real Frankenstein – demonstrating the in-
herent dialectic between the freedom-pole and the nature-pole in modern
philosophy.
The subtle but basic distinction between ‘Erscheinung’ (appearance/phenom-
enon) and “Ding an sich” (thing in itself), which Kant uses, is completely in
service of his fundamental aim to safeguard a separate (and super-sensory)
realm for being human as an autonomous ethical being (Zelbstzweck). The
category of cause and effect (together with all the other categories) is only ap-
plicable to appearances and not to things in themselves (such as the free will
of the human soul).
Kant realizes that an unlimited employment of the category of causality (un-
derstood in the deterministic and mechanistic sense of classical physics) inev-
itably implies the abolition of all freedom. Kant explains his basic problem as
follows:
144
“Now let us suppose that the distinction, which our Critique has shown to be
necessary, between things as objects of experience and those same things as
things in themselves, had not been made. In that case all things in general, as
far as they are efficient causes, would be determined by the principle of causal-
ity, and consequently by the mechanism of nature. I could not, therefore, with-
out palpable contradiction, say of one and the same being, for instance the hu-
man soul, that its will is free and yet is subjected to natural necessity, that is,
not free. For I have taken the soul in both propositions in one and the same
sense, namely as a thing in general, that is, as a thing in itself; and save by
means of a preceding critique, could not have done otherwise. But if our Cri-
tique is not in error in teaching that the object is to be taken in a twofold sense,
namely as appearance and as thing in itself; if the deduction of the concepts of
understanding is valid, and the principle of causality therefore applies only to
things taken in the former sense, namely, in so far as they are objects of experi-
ence – these same objects, taken in the other sense, not being subject to the
principle – then there is no contradiction in supposing that one and the same
will is, in the appearance, that is, in its visible acts, necessarily subject to the
law of nature, and so far not free, while yet, as belonging to a thing in itself, it
is not subject to that law, and is therefore free” (1967-B:XVII-XVIII).
It is clear that Kant’s ultimate concern to safeguard the (autonomous) freedom
of human beings necessitated this distinction between appearance and thing in
itself. This is most evident from the entire Transcendental Dialectic. In his
discussion of the solution of the third cosmological idea he once more ex-
plains that we are not allowed to ascribe any absolute reality to appearances:
“The common but fallacious presupposition of the absolute reality of appear-
ances here manifests its injurious influence, to the confounding of reason. For
if appearances are things in themselves, freedom cannot be upheld” (1967-B:
564).
The final remark in this subsection reveals the basic motive of Kant’s whole
Critique of Pure Reason (1967-B:565):
“My purpose has only been to point out that since the thorough-going connec-
tion of all appearances, in a context of nature, is an inexorable law, the inevita-
ble consequence of obstinately insisting on the reality of appearances is to de-
stroy all freedom. Those who thus follow the common view have never been
able to reconcile nature and freedom” (I am emphasizing – DS).
Bridging the abyss teleologically
This inherent dialectic, enclosed in the basic motive of nature and freedom, al-
ready in his Critique of Pure Reason brought Kant to a negative interpretation
of human freedom: freedom is seen as being free from natural necessity
(1967-B:651-652). In his Critique of Judgement Kant develops a most influ-
ential formulation of the way in which nature and freedom presupposes each
other dialectically. Although the human understanding a priori applies the cat-
egory of causality, as an inexorable law, to nature, Kant approaches organic
nature teleologically. It means that nature is thus represented as if the multi-
plicity of laws present in it is contained in the unifying basis of an understand-
ing (1968-B:VIII). The concept of a natural teleology is proposed by the ca-
pacity to judge, in order to function as a mediating concept between the con-
cepts of nature and the concepts of freedom. However, the purposiveness of
145
nature only functions as a regulative principle to the (reflecting) capacity to
judge (1968-B:LVI). As guiding principle, this natural purposiveness is never
to be used in a constitutive way, since then our reflecting ability becomes a de-
termining faculty of judgement, implying that once again we are introducing a
new causality (a final cause; nexus finalis; cf. 1968-B:269) into natural sci-
ence (1968-B:270).1
The teleological principle merely functions as a subjective maxim in judging
nature. Therefore, it cannot be applied to the objective reality of things in na-
ture. Consequently, the reconciliation between the causally determining and
the teleologically reflecting view of nature is sought in the unity of a su-
pra-sensory principle which is supposed to be valid for the totality of nature as
a system (1968-B:304). This ‘solution’ did not really reconcile the opposing
poles of nature and freedom, since it simply reinforces the basic dualism be-
tween natural necessity and super-sensory freedom – each with its own
law-giver (cf. 1968-B:LIII-LIV).
Fr. Schelling attempted a synthesis between nature and freedom. According to
him, in the absence of the antinomy (Widerspruch) between necessity and
freedom, not only philosophy, but also every higher will of the spirit will
shrink into insignificance (1968:282). As a result of this commitment he be-
lieves that in nature itself a principle of freedom is concealed, while history is
founded on a hidden principle of necessity. Clearly, the result is not a real syn-
thesis or reconciliation, since it amounts to nothing but a duplication of the
original dialectic: necessity is present in the domain of freedom, and freedom
is present in the domain of necessity!
Entelechie negatively described: the influence of Hans Driesch
Without rejecting the classical mechanistic analysis of matter, Driesch, in his
neo-vitalistic biology, extends the application of the deterministic concept of
law to biotic phenomena. The traditional mechanistic approach is limited by
him to the material basis of living things. We have seen that Driesch inter-
preted the regenerative phenomena discernable in living things in terms of his
theory of living entities as “equi-potential harmonious systems” and in terms
of his notion of an entelechie operating as a “totality-causal factor” (Ganz-
heitskausalität). The important contribution which Driesch made to the prob-
lem of freedom, is given in his notion of the ‘entelechie’ as something that
cannot be determined in any positive sense. As such, he considers it to be a
“system of negations” (1920:513; 459 ff.), i.e., it cannot be positively deter-
mined: ‘entelechie’ is something non-mechanical, it is not energy, not force,
not a constant (1920:460) and non-spatial (1920:513). The difference be-
tween the atomistic ‘Einselkausalität’ and the holistic ‘Ganzheitskausalität’ is
also framed in terms of the opposition ‘Ganzheit’ and ‘Zufall’ (totality and
chance). In the thought of Driesch determination is opposed to genuine free-
dom. He declares that the question about freedom is to be considered as a
metaphysical question of faith which cannot be answered by the science of
1 Excatly this was done in the neo-vitalistic biology of Hans Driesch. Cf. his notion of
‘Ganzheitskausalität’ (1920:416 ff., 542 ff.).

146
philosophy (cf. 1931:93-122). Although Kant and Driesch differ in their view
on the nature of philosophy, they agree that freedom is not a question of
scientific proof, but one of (practical) faith.
In his theory of the freedom of the will, Arnold Gehlen continues Driesch’s
negative description of the ‘entelechie’. However, with an explicit appeal to
the freedom idealism of Schelling, he immediately transforms it in order to
provide a point of entry for freedom. At the same time he realizes that Driesch
actually brought biotical phenomena under the reign of the deterministic clas-
sical ideal of science. Therefore, once again he wants to restrict causality to
mechanical causality: “Since causality is only thinkable as mechanical causal-
ity, the entelechie is negatively free, i.e. spontaneous and primary in a sense
which cannot be subjected to a closer determination” (1965:60).
The tension between nature and freedom brought Max Scheler to his
well-known characterization in terms of what he calls the ‘Weltoffenheit’ of
human beings (1962:38, 40).1 Against this background Plessner developed
his own perspective on the human being as an eccentric creature, while biolo-
gists and anthropologists such as Portmann, Overhage and Gehlen gave the
notion of ‘Weltoffenheit’ a prominent place in their writings. Even theology
took advantage of this notion. Wolfhart Pannenberg, for example, interprets it
in terms of what he calls “der grenzenlosen Angewiesenheit des Menschen”
(the unlimited dependency of the human being) while relating it to the “funda-
mental biological structure of being human” (1968:11; cf. also Scherer’s
treatment of the ‘Weltoffenheit’ of the human being, 1980:79 ff.). Ultimately,
this term ‘Weltoffenheit’ is used to embody the reaction against the claims of
the science ideal, namely that the human being is determined in all respects. In
the final analysis, the intention of these authors is to show that the human
being is free from being determined by natural causality.
In his Ph.D-thesis, dealing with philosophical aspects in the biology of
Portmann, R. Kugler states that Portmann essentially understands the human
being in terms of freedom (1967:75). At the same time, Portmann is well
aware of the fact that, as a “philosophical idea”, freedom withdraws itself
from a scientific grasp. Kugler places this approach within the “large tradi-
tion” of a “philosophical determination of the human being,” dating back to
Immanuel Kant: “The innermost essence of the human being is freedom, it is
the possibility of the human being to transform itself into that what it is”
(1967:81). Compare this announcement with the following words of Plessner:
“As eccentrically organized creature the human being must make itself into
that what it already is” (1965:309).
Gehlen points out that this mode of expression manifests the logical scheme
present in a normal teleology. This tradition is influenced by Fichte: “I want to
be free ... means: I want to make myself into that what I shall be before I am it,
in order to be able to perform it” (cf. Gehlen, 1965:103-104). And we have
seen that Fichte himself is dependent on Kant, who introduced teleology as a
1 In this work, Scheler sketches absolute being as an endless, reciprocal interpenetration
of spirit (Geist) and drive (Drang) – the former has to guide and direct the latter, but only
receives its power from this equally original life-drive.

147
bridge to human freedom. The philosophical tradition in which “mechanical
causality” and “teleology” (nature and freedom) is always dialectically re-
lated, inspires Ed. von Hartmann to remind natural scientists in the following
way: “If our natural scientists were philosophically better trained, they would
have been aware of the fact that the whole German speculation, from Leibniz
to Kant and up to the present, equally decisively rejects a teleology separated
from mechanical causality, as it does with a mechanical causality divorced
from teleology” (quoted by Haas, 1959:456).
Reinforced dialectics: Existentialism and Existential Phenomenology
Notwithstanding the fact that various philosophical trends of the 20th century
departed from the rationalistic philosophy of Kant, the underlying motivating
power present in the “leitmotif” of nature and freedom remained in force. The
existential phenomenological thinker, Merleau-Ponty, for a great part relying
on the results of psychological and psycho-patological studies, understands
the human being dialectically in terms of two basic denominators: being a
body (taken in a biotical sense as an organism) and existence (interpreted as
being historical in nature). On the one hand, together with Sartre, he accepts
the thesis: “I am my body”. On the other hand, however, he also holds the
opinion that one’s historical existence must repress the bodily organism down
to the pre-personal level of an anonymous complex.
Inspired by the nature-pole of the basic motive (ground-motive) of humanism,
Merleau-Ponty writes: “I cannot understand the function of the living body
except by enacting it myself, and except in so far as I am a body which rises to-
wards the world” (1970:75). From the opposite motivation he states: “... so it
can be said that my organism, as a pre-personal cleaving to the general form of
the world, as an anonymous and general existence, plays, beneath my per-
sonal life, the part of an inborn complex” (1970:84). On the one hand I am my
body, and on the other hand my body is seen as a pre-reflexive, pre-personal,
anonymous complex by virtue of its being-in-the-world (1970:79, 80, 82, 83,
86). Nature and freedom reciprocally endanger and presuppose each other:
“... for most of the time personal existence represses the organism without be-
ing able either to go beyond it or to renounce itself; without, in other words,
being able either to reduce the organism to its existential self, or itself to the
organism” (1970:84). The dialectical movement, to and fro, between these
poles is best illustrated in his following words: “Man taken as a concrete being
is not a psyche joined to an organism, but the movement to and fro of existence
which at one time allows itself to take corporeal form and at others moves
towards personal acts (I am emphasizing – DS)” (1970:88).
Perhaps Karl Jaspers saw the impasse of this whole dialectical legacy most
clearly. His confession reads: “Since freedom is only through and against na-
ture, as freedom it must fail. Freedom is only when nature is” (1948:871).
Freedom at the molecular level
Sometimes it is striking to see what the effect is of the presumed continuous
and uninterrupted line of ascent from molecules to the human being. Clearly,
if one wants to ascribe freedom to the human being, the continuity of the pos-
148
tulated genetic process demands that nothing truly novel can arise somewhere
on the line. Consequently, Hans Jonas, proceeding from the primacy of the
freedom motive, is ‘forced’ to recognize freedom already at the molecular
level! “Our position is indeed that already metabolism, the bottom layer of all
organic existence, reveals freedom, yes, that, in itself, it is the first form of
freedom” (1973:13). ‘Life’, according to Jonas, “constantly manifests itself in
the dialectical antitheses between which its existence is stretched: the antithe-
sis between being and non-being, between self and world, form and matter,
freedom and necessity (I am emphasizing – DS)” (1973:15-16). Bernard
Rensch is committed to exactly the opposite conclusion, although he shares
the conviction about the continuity of the line from molecules to the human
being: “According to our previous findings and discussions we are justified in
assuming .... psychic (parallel) processes of some kind in all living beings”
(1959:352). This ‘psychic’ continuity must also bridge the gap between the
living and the non-living: “Here again it is difficult to assume a sudden origin
of first psychic elements. It would not be impossible to ascribe ‘psychic’ com-
ponents to the realm of inorganic systems also, i.e. to credit nonliving matter
with some basic and isolated kind of ‘parallel’ processes” (1959:342). Thus
matter receives a “proto-psychical nature” (1969:134-135). And since the
universe is ruled by eternal basic laws, Rensch cannot accept any freedom of
the will: “If ‘free will’ really existed it would have emerged in the head of the
human being, thereby disrupting the causal law which governs the processes
of the brain” (1971:211).
The rejection of structural conditions: nominalism
It is tremendously difficult for modern philosophy to accept constant and uni-
versal conditions underlying our human freedom. As a result of the over-
whelming influence of modern nominalism, the universal creational order for
and the (universal) orderliness of entities subject to the former conditions, are
mostly rejected. Some of the most prominent trends in modern philosophy
stress the ever-changing and contingent nature of the world in which we live.
Rauche, for example, is convinced that a person’s “basic contingent experi-
ence of the world”, its being interwoven with life’s “changing conditions”,
implies that the theories a person advocates “can never be conclusive”, and
consequently, they “should be regarded as blueprints which attempt to give”
one “meaningful guidance in the permanent flux of becoming” that one finds
oneself “in and of which they are an integral part” (1985:11; cf.20, 75, 87, 96,
137). It is not necessary to relate the idea of constancy to ‘God’, ‘Being’ or a
metaphysical ‘Absolute’ (cf. Rauche, 1985:12), since the first appeal should
be to the conditioning order for creaturely existence.
During a visit to South Africa Richard Rorty was even announced as a special-
ist on contingency! I do not want to deny the uniqueness, individuality and
contingency indeed present in our experience of the world. However, I do
think we have to be very cautious in order to avoid the pitfalls of modern
nominalism. In this context, it will suffice to point out that all contingency and
changes can only take place within the boundaries of structural conditions
which are not only universal, but which are also constant. In another context, I
149
have analyzed some aspects of this problem (cf. Strauss, 1985:133 ff, 138 ff.;
cf. also Strauss, 1984:36-37 and Hart, 1984:65 ff.). The fundamental point in
connection with the problem of human freedom is to realize that human free-
dom should be evaluated in terms of the strict correlation between universal
normative conditions and subjective response of humankind to them. Hart is
fully justified in saying that he “will defend the view that being free is not op-
posed to being determined” since “only what is determined can be free and
only what is free can be determined” (1984:298). Here ‘determined’ can mean
nothing but “being subject to a universal conditioning order”. However, the
‘order-diversity’ in creation confronts us with differently structured subjec-
tive responses by creatures, and it is in terms of this perspective that we see
human freedom as an outcome of the unique accountable ability of human be-
ings to respond (‘response-ability’). What is unique about human beings is
not that they are free from conditions, but that they in their subjection to them,
actually are free to obey them in uniquely varying ways and even, ultimately
as an effect of sin, has the temptation to disobey them. The history of arguing
for a special place of human beings on earth is often dialectically motivated by
the urge to see the human being, not as something conditioned, but, in
opposition to nature, as the (autonomous) origin of conditions (cf. Hart,
1985:295).
The notion of a uniformly moving body, underlying Galilei’s law of inertia,
was formulated by him in terms of a thought-experiment, without taking ac-
count of any real sense-experience. This inspired Kant’s whole epistemology
(cf. Holz, 1975:345-358). Von Weiszäcker frames Kant’s epistemological
problem in terms of the question: What is nature, that it must obey laws which
a human being could formulate with his/her understanding (1971:128)? Kant
implicitly interprets the Galilean procedure as follows: Since the law of inertia
is derived and prescribed to moving entities out of the pure understanding of
the human being in its spontaneous subjectivity, Kant brings about the (histor-
ically crucial) Copernican turn in epistemology, in ascribing the primary no
longer to the object, but to the subject. Kant draws the radical (rationalistic)
humanistic conclusion – the laws of nature are a priori contained in the sub-
jective understanding of the human being: “the categories are conditions of
the possibility of experience, and are therefore valid a priori for all objects of
experience” (1967-B:161); “Categories are concepts which prescribe laws a
priori to appearances, and therefore to nature, the sum of all appearances”
(B:163).
This rationalistic inclination of Kant was eventually historicized. The manner
in which Rauche frames the problem of truth clearly portrays Kantian under-
tones: “Truth is a matter of the mind. It is the translation of our sense-experi-
ence into rational terms or concepts, while the real is perceived through the
senses and is yet still chaotic and unorganized by the mind” (1971:9). He no
longer accepts the Kantian notion of understanding which is capable of a uni-
versally valid act of form-giving (ordering) – every person can only account
for his/her own particular constituting activity. Our relative human perspec-
tives are rooted in a finite and contingent world verified by our experience.
150
“It is the world of becoming and change, namely, the ever changing concrete
objects, which represent the environment of human beings, causing them to
feel uncertain and insecure, so that they are impelled to order it rationally. It is
thus not a vague abstract ”something“ toward which we direct our intent, but it
is a concrete situation that causes us to build our world, which in its stage of
constitution must be peculiar, different and in this sense contradictory to the
constituted world of our fellow human beings” (Rauche, 1966:99).
The Kantian notion of universal validity is fundamentally historicized – leav-
ing us with nothing but competing and contradictory ordered worlds of differ-
ent people in different historical situations (cf. Rauche, 1971:34).
Although the rationalistic and irrationalistic trends in modern philosophy
seem to divert radically, their common root in nominalism transcends this su-
perficial divergence. Rationalism considers universals to be the only source of
knowledge, thus leaving no room for knowledge of things in their individual-
ity. Surely, concept-formation is always bound up with the universal order
for, and the universal orderliness of things. This implies, as already discov-
ered by Aristotle, that one cannot conceptually comprehend the individual
side of an entity. Unfortunately, in a typical rationalistic way, he identifies
knowledge with conceptual knowledge, implying that something individual
cannot be known (cf. Metaf. l040 a 5 ff.). Contrary to this rationalistic posi-
tion, we must emphasize that in fact we do have knowledge of things in their
individuality, although this kind of knowledge is not conceptual. Much rather,
it is of a concept transcending and approximating nature, referring to the indi-
vidual side of things in terms of universal features. But this is precisely what
idea-knowledge is all about – an idea concentrates a conceptual diversity upon
(resp. refers it to) that which transcends the limits of all concept-formation.
Therefore, rationalism leaves no room for idea-knowledge. Irrationalism, on
the other hand, always wants to emphasize the contingent uniqueness of the
individual side of entities or events transcending the limits of concept-forma-
tion. Consequently, irrationalism leaves no room for real conceptual
knowledge.
In respect of the typical structure of entities, nominalism does not accept any
conditioning order (universal structures for), or any orderliness (universal
structuredness of) such entities. Every entity is strictly individual. In terms of
our distinction between rationalism and irrationalism, nominalism surely rep-
resents an irrationalistic view in connection with the nature of entities, since
every individual entity is completely stripped from its universal orderliness
(law-conformity) and conditioning order. This characteristic applies to both
moderate nominalism, viz. conceptualism (Locke, Ockham, Leibniz and oth-
ers), and to extreme nominalism, that rejects all general and abstract ideas and
accepts only general names (Berkeley and Brentano). This irrationalistic side
of nominalism, however, does not exhaust the multifaceted nature of nominal-
ism, because universals are fully acknowledged in the human mind, at least as
general words in the case of Berkeley’s and Brentano’s extreme nominalism.
This restriction of knowledge to universals is typical of rationalism in the
sense defined by us. Therefore, it is possible to see nominalism as being si-
multaneously rationalistic (in terms of the universals – concepts and words –
151
in one’s mind), and irrationalistic (in terms of the strict individuality of
entities).

The common root of diverging trends in modern philosophy

This dual nature of nominalism forms the starting-point of two diverging


philosophical developments in modern philosophy.
(i) On the one hand, it provided rationalism with the possibility to elevate
human reason to the level of the creator of a rational order in reality. This
follows from the fact that nominalism in fact transposes the universal
side of entities into the human mind. But the universal side of entities is
nothing but the manifestation of the conditionedness of entities by the
relevant universal order for their existence. Consequently, if an entity is
stripped of its orderliness (its universal side), it is simultaneously
stripped of its being subjected to a universal creational order. What is
left is factual reality in its unstructured, chaotic individuality and partic-
ularity (contingency) (cf. Rauche, 1966:97). Driven by the new motive
of logical creation, this very feature of nominalism enabled modern phi-
losophy from Descartes onwards to reconstruct all of reality in terms of
natural scientific thought. Only the extreme consequences of this natural
science-ideal, cancelling in principle also human freedom, were ques-
tioned by Kant. Within the (limited) domain of the science-ideal, how-
ever, Kant draws the ultimate rationalistic conclusion of nominalism. In-
deed, Kant tries to consolidate and strengthen the preceding natural sci-
ence-ideal, be it in the restricted form of the rationalistically elevated un-
derstanding which (though limited to sensibility in order to save a sepa-
rate super-sensory domain for the practical-ethical freedom of autono-
mous humanity), is considered to be the a priori (formal) law-giver of
nature! Nominalism created a vacuum by leaving factual reality in its in-
dividuality unstructured. In order to fill up the lack of determination thus
created, Kant introduces human understanding to take hold of this va-
cant position. To be sure, Kant not merely transposes the universal side
of entities into human understanding, since in fact he elevates human
understanding to the level of the conditioning order for things.
(ii) On the other hand, nominalism provided a starting-point for all those
trends in modern philosophy which, in an irrationalistic fashion, want to
take the unique and contingent character of (mostly designated as: his-
torical) reality serious. This avenue opened up by nominalism was fol-
lowed up by a variety of historicistic designs in modern philosophy, for
example from the forth phase of Fichte’s thought up to pragmatism, ex-
istentialism and contemporary neo-Marxism. If reality is tripped both of
its orderliness and of its being subjected to a conditioning universal
creational order, it seems to be a “self-evident historicistic truth” that, ul-
timately, everything is historical and therefore taken up in the dynamic
and ever-changing contingent flow of historical events.
152
However, this does not necessarily mean that the ordering function of under-
standing is cancelled, as is evident in Rauche’s conception of the human task
of self-constitution in order to transcend pure contingency.
At this point we can link up the influence of nominalism with the predominant
neo-Darwinistic evolutionism. The remark of Simpson, referred to in an ear-
lier context, namely that plants and animals are not types and do not have
types, since everyone of them is unique (1969:8-9), is a fully-fledged
nominalistic conviction. The genesis of plants, animals and human beings are
taken up in a structureless continuum. Systematic distinctions, exemplified in
different taxonomies, are nothing but arbitrary names (nomina) given to an
immense number of individually different living entities. The universality im-
plied in these names is a product of our constitutive human understanding
without any foundation in the “things outside the mind”. Already Charles
Darwin adhered explicitly to this view in his “Origin of Species”. He says
“that no line of demarcation can be drawn between species” (1968:443) and
proceeds: “In short, we shall have to treat species in the same manner as those
naturalists treat genera, who admit that genera are merely artificial
combinations made for convenience” (1968:456).
Within the context of an evolutionary epistemology Van Huyssteen recently
demonstrates a strange mixture of different positions at once. He is in search
after a new (interdisciplinary) space for the interaction between theology and
science. He proceeds from the assumption that evolution is a fact (1998:143)
and that we have to “take very seriously the general conclusions and findings
of general cosmology ” – “that is that this universe is evolving, that all that is
within it has had a common physical origin in time, and that all it contains is in
principle explicable by the natural sciences” (1998:75). However, he does not
escape from fundamental ambiguities. The neo-Darwinian presupposition of
continuity (cf. 1998:111) and chance are slowly but surely substituted with a
mixture of emergent evolutionistic (cf. 1998:134, 151) and vitalistic (cf.
1998:37, 121, 125, 127) overtones – without evincing an awareness that these
positions are alternative to neo-Darwinian theory and that they contradict its
basic assumptions.1
An amazing return to the rationalistic position of Kant and modernity is seen
in his identification of the structure of the universe with human rationality and
mathematics: “What is astounding, however, is to what extent our world is
truly rational, i.e., in conformity with human reason” (1998:68). While men-
tioning Davies he refers to the “fact that the rational nature of our universe is
reflected in its basic mathematical structure” (1998:71). Van Huyssteen and
the modernist (rationalistic) tradition on this point do not distinguish between
1 The following statements show his emergent evolutionistic position, continuity in as-
cent, discontinuity in existence: “Culture indeed has evolved, but the principles of cul-
ture are not the same as the principles we know from organic evolution” (1998:146); and
in affirming the approach of Wuketits he says: “culture is not reducible to biological en-
tities” (1998:157). On page 130 he explicitly employs the phrase “emergent evolution.”

153
ontically given universal features of reality and the nature of concept-forma-
tion. From the fact that concepts are formed on the basis of universal traits it
does not follow at all that these ontic porperties themselves are rational in na-
ture! This position is taken while at the same time an equally forceful attempt
is made throughout the work to hold on to a postmodern perspective!

Human freedom: a subjective response to normative conditions


What is at stake here, is a confrontation with historicism on the basis of ac-
cepting norms or principles in the following sense: a principle or norm is a
universal and constant unit that can only be made valid (enforced) in different
situations by a competent organ possessing an accountable will which pro-
vides the freedom of choice to establish a normatively correct or antinorm-
ative positivization (form-giving) of the possibilities contained in such a start-
ing-point. Only a positivized principle possesses validity. It is therefore con-
trary to the very nature of a pre-positive principle, providing the starting-point
for form-giving activities in all different situations, to characterize such a
pre-positive starting-point as universally valid. The validity of any positivized
principle is fundamentally restricted to the unique setting of a specific place at
a particular time. Consequently, the natural law view is untenable, since it as-
cribes a validity to norms that hold for all times and places. Hart uses the ex-
ample of expressing respect, which was instantiated in greeting rituals of vari-
ous different kinds – from taking off one’s hat up to simply raising the hand.
In spite of all that varies, he says, “something ‘in principle’ remains invariant
through all this historical development” (1984:59), viz. showing respect. This
principle should not be tied down to only one kind of response (lifting the hat
or raising the hand): “The legalist who claims that those who just tip their hats
are in principle not showing the proper respect is making the same mistake as
the nominalist: he is failing to distinguish underlying principles in their
invariance from the observable patterns of variant behavior” (1984:59). It is a
pity that Kugel, who explicitly follows Groenman’s reformational model of
being human (cf. 1982:135), only acknowledges four types of norms – viz. the
economical, the juridical, the ethical, and the aesthetical (1982:280-283). It is
not even enough to refer to the normativity of all the post-sensitive aspects,
since, at the norm-side of each one of these modalities, every retrocipation and
anticipation unveils a fundamental modal norm (I have treated this
perspective elsewhere in more detail – Strauss, 1979: 254-264).
The possibilities contained in any universal and constant starting-point func-
tion as the basis for specific acts of form-giving (positivization) in diverging
unique historical situations. The rationalistic trait of natural law conceptions
cannot account for this freedom to positivize contained in a principle. The
irrationalistic nature of historicism, on the other hand, cannot do justice to the
universality and constancy of such a starting-point which actually form the
basis of ever-changing positivizations. This one-sidedness of both natural law
and historicism is a direct consequence of the autonomy-theme in modern phi-
154
losophy mentioned earlier. The autonomy-ideal hypostatized the freedom to
positivize – thus trying to eliminate the very nature of a principle as a universal
and constant starting-point for human action. When positivizations are ele-
vated to the level of being universally valid, we encounter rationalistic casu-
istry. And when the freedom to positivize is one-sidedly accentuated, we
encounter an irrationalistic situational ethics.

The way in which the majority of contemporary social scientists use terms like
values, norms, beliefs (cf. Sorokin, Parsons, Znaniecki, and others), some-
times called the cultural system, does not allow for principles as universal and
constant starting-points that ultimately condition human action in a task-set-
ting way, since they identify these terms with the result of free and formative
human actions – typical of historicism.

The long-standing influence of nominalism in our modern Western culture


has ultimately succeeded in ruling out the biblical view on the creational order
for the existence of creaturely subjects. The relativistic and self-contradictory
nature of historicism is simply a symptom of the contemporary world view.
Any confrontation with historicism that does not penetrate into this pre-scien-
tific root has not succeeded in unveiling its deepest motivation and impasse.

What, in the final analysis, is therefore ultimately decisive, is the basic (pre-
theoretic) commitment to the modern historicistic world view with its auton-
omy-ideal1 and nominalistic theoretical articulations on the one hand, or, on
the other hand, the commitment to a different world- and life-view, namely
that of biblical Christianity, which does allow for the acceptance of universal
and constant principles which (as creational order for) condition human sub-
jectivity in a truly normative way and at the same time leave humanity with
the accountable authentic freedom to positivize responsibly in changing histo-
rical situations.

The order of creation indeed shows us the good direction towards obedience
to the will of God. However, due to the radical nature of the fall into sin, this
God-obedient direction was redirected in service of some or other idol borne
from the apostate heart of humankind. The creational order still exercises its
normative appeal to obey the will of God, but in order to accomplish this we
must be freed from the effects of sin by the redemptive work of Christ. Only in
Him and through the work of the Holy Spirit are we, in principle, freed from
the apostate inclination of our hearts and redirected towards obedient service
to God within the world-wide, all-encompassing Kingdom of God in Christ.
Obedience to God-given creational possibilities is a positive task, not some-
thing structurally negative which we have to transcend.
1 The definition which Rousseau gives for freedom, demonstrates the humanistic ideal of
self-determination (autonomy) explicitly: “obedience to a law which we prescribe to
ourselves is liberty” (1966:16).

155
Conclusion
The human being is not simply an extension of the animal realm. By means of
the preceding exposition, this conviction is substantiated with the aid of vari-
ous arguments and in terms of diverse perspectives. The crucial ‘turn-
ing-points’ in the (neo-Darwinistic) account of the all-encompassing process
of evolution, namely the origin of ‘life’ and the emergence of human beings,
in a marked way highlight the inadequacy of this predominant mode of think-
ing. First of all we discerned a difference of opinion in connection with the no-
tions of continuity and discontinuity. Secondly, modern biological thinking
tries to subsume this problem of continuity/discontinuity under different basic
denominators, such as the mechanical (Eisenstein), the physical (neo-Darwin-
ism), the biotical – in different ways (neo-vitalism, holism, organismic biol-
ogy), the psychical (be it monistic: Teilhard de Chardin – or pluralistic: Ber-
nard Rensch’s pan-psychistic identism), while even freedom is chosen (Hans
Jonas). Sometimes, the obvious structural discontinuities discernable be-
tween material things, plants, animals and human beings, caused an ambiva-
lent (emergentistic) attitude, trying to have it both ways: genetic continuity
and existential discontinuity (Lloyd Morgan, Whitehead, Woltereck, Bavink,
Polanyi, Laszlo, Dobzhansky and even certain statements of Simpson and
Julian Huxley).
None of the treated scholars, however, asked the question why, in spite of the
supposed continuous (and: structureless) change constantly occurring, the
theories about these evolutionary changes remain confined within the men-
tioned modal diversity. Much rather, this state of affairs confronts modern bi-
ological thought with the inescapable conditioning role of this modal diversity
for theorizing as such. The dialectical escape route which these trends try to
pursue is to ignore this given diversity by arguing as if it does not exist. Con-
trary to this intention, nevertheless, every theory presented to us simply came
up with an over-estimation of one of these modal perspectives, not realizing
that it is only while working and thinking within the conditioning ‘order-di-
versity’ of reality, that we even can attempt ignoring this constant ‘order-di-
versity’! Ultimately, the choice of any specific basic denominator is fully in
the grip of the underlying basic commitment of the thinker in question – a
commitment transcending the realm of theoretical thinking as such.
Uncertainties and even contradicting interpretations of these fundamental
questions warn us to be modest in our often premature conclusions. Much
rather, it is important to emphasize what one can know about the uniqueness
of being human – both in terms of the exceptional ability to respond in norma-
tive freedom and in respect of the way in which human beings function dis-
tinctly in those aspects of reality which they share with other creatures.
We have seen that the prevalent dialectical appreciation of the meaning of hu-
man freedom is the outcome of an underlying motive power operative in this
philosophical legacy, which is, ultimately, apostate in character. The unsolva-
ble tension between the poles of nature and freedom inevitably leads to a neg-
156
ative idea of freedom, dialectically opposed to nature. Furthermore, our hu-
man ‘natural’ features, such as the bodily configuration of the human being,
our unique biotical developmental status, and the relatively unspecialized or-
gans, are, together with the erect gait and spiritual expression of the face, all in
service of our normatively qualified truly human responsibility to obey the
universal conditions of God’s creational order. Though, in the present sinful
dispensation, we shall always be tempted to disobey these normative condi-
tions, in Christ we are in principle saved from this sinful inclination and freed
to constantly act in more norm-conforming ways, showing, in anticipation to
God’s coming Kingdom, that already now we share in the restored paradise
order of obedience and peace.

157
158
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170
Index of Technical Terms
A chemical bonding 78, 80-81 enkaptic interweaving 80
Adenine 99 chromosomes 100-101 enkaptic structural whole 81,
adenosine triphosphate 101 cineradiographic studies 134 112-115
aestheticism 15 classes of vertebrates 94 Enlightenment 53-54
albumin 98 Cloadophora 101 entelechie 105, 113, 133, 147
algebra 14 cobalt 98 entropy 55, 60-61, 67, 85, 107
amino acids 99 colloidal systems 98 epistemology 2, 70-71, 151,
amphibians 94-95, 138 comparative morphology 91 154
Anaxagoras 22, 25 Compton-effect 76 equilibrium 85-86
Anaximander 21, 31 concept formation 130-132, erect gait 128, 141, 157
Anaximines 21 141 everything is number 9, 55
Angelelli 20 concept-transcending 74, 77 Evolutionary
anthropoids 117, 128-130, conceptual knowledge 74, 152 – continuum 91, 94, 109
134, 137-138, 140, 143 consistent physicalism 106 – hypothesis 94
anthropomorphic 132 constancy and change 62, 75 – theory 96-97, 104
anticipations 77 context of discovery 6 experience 1-3, 7, 9, 11, 13,
15, 53-54, 70-74, 89, 92,
antinomy 102, 108, 147 context of justification 6 102, 110, 128, 132,
antonymity 141 Coulomb forces 78 136-137, 140, 144-145,
Archaeopteryx 96, 103 covalent bonding 78 150-151
articulare-quadratum-joint 95 critical rationalism 5 experimental physics 72
astronomy 73 crystal lattice 78 experimentation 8, 62, 67, 71,
at once infinite 58-59 crystalline structure 113-114 87
atomic nuclei 78, 80-81 Cynodontia 95 external enkaptic function 80
atomic number 69, 75, 80 cytoplasm 98, 100-101
atomistic 77, 81, 147 cytosine 99 F
Australopithecines 120-122, factual side 74, 91, 94
135 D faculty of judgement 146
Australopithecus 121, 163, deficient creature 140 faith in reason 5
165, 169 dental-squamosum-joint 95 falsification 7-8, 54
Australopithecus africanus 120, desoxyribonucleic acid 99
165 fetalization 143
Diarthrognathus broomi 95 fossil record 94, 104
B differential reproduction 88 free will 145
Difflugiidae 126
bacteria 88, 93, 100-102
disciplinary matrix 8, 56 G
biochemical constellation 114
biological discontinuity 59, 92, 94-95, generalizations 6
– disorganization 107 104, 111, 117, 154, 157 generatio spontanea 87
– theory 94 divisibility 67, 75, 79 genetic systems 93
bio-milieu 85 dogmatism 4 geno-types 80
biotical instability 86 double helix structure 99 gravity 2, 8, 67
biotope 108 duration 59 Greek philosophy 83, 91
blue-green algae 100-102 guanine 99
bonding electrons 80
E
electrical fields 140 H
C electromagnetic waves 75 histone 98
calcium 98 electron pair bonding 78 historicism 15, 155-156
carbohydrates 98 electron-shells 76 holistic biology 107-108
carbon dioxide 87 elementary basic concepts 77 hominids 120, 135
cell organism 100, 102, elementary particles 55, 76 Homo erectus 121, 123
113-115 emergence evolutionism 9 Homo
cell-structure 89 enkapsis 79 – habilis 121, 123, 125,
central instance 112 enkaptic interlacement 81 160

171
– neanderthalensis 120 manganese 98 P
– sapiens 121-124, 135, mass points 9
140 Pachygenelus 95
materialism 15, 56
– symbolicus 132 paleo-biology 124
mechanical movement 9, 59 paleontology 94, 96, 104, 123
homologous structures 93
metabolism 89, 99, 101, 110, pan-psychism 9
human freedom 110, 142, 146, 149
148, 150-151, 153, 157 panpsychistic 109-110
metallic bonding 78
hydrogen 80, 87, 98 pan-psychistic identism 111,
metaphoricity 141 157
I metaphysical 4, 103, 147, 150 paradigm 5, 7-8, 56, 71
Ichthyostega 94-95 metazoa 101 Pauli-exclusion 76
Ictidosauria 95 methane 87 peptide bond 99
idealism 15, 147 micro-organisms 89 perpetual motion 61
idealistic morphology 91, 103 micro-structures 68, 77 persistent themes 8
individualism 15 middle ages 8 pharynx cavity 134
individuality 70, 74, 90, 106, missing links 94 philosophical foundations 3
113, 150, 152-153 mitochondria 101-102 phosphorus 98
inertia 2, 8, 60, 62-63, 69, 151 modal abstraction 8, 12-14, 61, phylogenetic trees 108,
infinite divisibility 79 69, 89 122-123
infinite regression 6 modal universality 8, 71-73, 77 physical entities 55-56, 61-62,
infinitely divisible 66-67, 73, molecular biology 87, 114 65, 68, 70-71, 75
131 Monotremata 96 physical laws 73, 88, 90
interference phenomena 76 moralism 15 physical time order 59
interferometer 76 more geometrico 107 physicalism 9, 15, 105-106
intermediate forms 96-97 pietism 15
intuitionism 58 N Piltdown hoax 120
iodine 98 natural numbers 58 platonism 10, 112
iron 57, 61, 85, 98-100, natural system 90, 105 platypus 96
106-107, 125-126, 133, Plotinus 27, 31
136, 151 neoteny 138-139
Nesthocker 142-143 polinucleotide 99
irrational numbers 55, 66
neutrality 3 polypeptide 99
irrationalism 15, 152
neutrino 76 positivism 1, 3-5, 53-56, 71
irreversibility 57, 60, 75
nitrogen 78, 87, 98-99 postulate of continuity 104, 109
irreversible specialization 138
nominalism 10, 15, 90-91, potassium 98
isomeric forms 79
102, 112, 150, 152-153, pre-natal traits 138
K 156 presuppositions 1-2, 15, 89,
non-contradiction 132 91, 104, 111-112, 122-123
kinematical time order 59
non-decreasing entropy 55, primary substance 74
L 60-61, 67 principle of the excluded middle
nucleo-protein 98 169
larynx 134-135
nucleotides 99 property terms 54
law-conformity 56, 64, 71, 74,
152 protamine 98
law-side 58-59, 65, 90 O protista 92
lipids 88, 98, 102 objectification 3, 130 protoplasm 98, 125
logical probability 6 open systems 63, 85-86, 88 Prototheria 96
orderliness 64, 71, 74, 150, protozoa 92, 101, 126
M 152-153 psychoide 105
macro-molecules 56, 74, 86, organic psychologism 15
99, 112 – chemistry 113-114 punctuated equilibria 96
macro-mutation 103 – compounds 99 Pythagoras 23-24
magnesium 98 organismic biology 9, 86, 107,
magnetic poles 140 157 Q
mammals 94-96, 134, Ornithorhynchus anaticus 96 quadrupeds 95
136-137, 142-144 orthogenetic 103 quantum theory 70, 72-73

172
R subjectivity 2, 114, 151, 156 U
successive infinite 57
radiation 76, 78, 99 ultimate commitment 5
sulphur 98
radio-activity 55, 60, 78 ultra-violet rays 140
supersonic waves 140
rationalism 5, 15, 145, universal substantial form 74
survival of the fittest 88
152-153 universalism 15
synonymity 141 Universality 10, 74, 168
rationality 5, 53, 154
realism 10, 15 T unspecialized 137-138,
redundance 141 140-141, 157
theoretical terms 54, 71
Reformational philosophy 56
regulative principle 146
theoretical thought 1-2, 9, 14 V
theory of relativity 9, 62-64, 67, vacuoles 100
reification 71 69
reptiles 94-95, 97 Van der Waals forces 78
Therapsida 95 variability types 80
respiratory tract 134-135, 164 thermodynamics 55-56, 60-61,
retardation 138-139, 144 verification principle 3-5
63-64, 67-68 vitalism 9, 15, 83-84, 105,
retrocipations 68, 131 thought categories 70-71 107-108, 111-112, 118,
Ribosomes 101 Thymine 99 157
time-duration 58
S topology 14 W
science-ideal 5, 145, 153 totality-structure 73 wave
second law of thermodynamics transcendental-empirical 69, 71 – function 77
61 Tritheledontidea 95 – particle duality 76
secondary energy-traps 125, type laws 70-71 wave-character 76
127 typical Weltoffenheit 148
self-domestication 139 – foundational function 76 whole-parts relationship 100,
set theory 14, 58 – laws 70-72, 109 115
Seymoria 95-96 typogenesis 103 Wiener Kreis 3
sodium 79-80, 98 typolysis 103
structural constancy 92 typostasis 103 Z
structureless continuum 103 typostrophism 103 zinc 98

173
174
Index of Persons
A Coley 2, 161 G
Adloff 138 Crompton 95 Gadamer 53, 161-162
Aguirre 159 Cusanus 27, 32, 34 Galileo (vi), 2, 8-9, 27, 32, 55,
Alexandroff 35, 159 Cushing 81, 161 59-60, 62-63, 69, 72, 162
Allesch 159 Gehlen 124, 137-141,
Altner 137, 159, 165 D 147-148, 162-163
Anaxagoras 22, 25 Dacque 161 Gieseler 120, 125, 162
Anaximander 21, 31 Darwin 9, 88-89, 91, 94, Goerttler 135, 162
Anaximines 21 96-97, 100, 104, 117, 119, Gould 96
Angelelli 20, 159 123, 138, 153-154, Goulian 162
Apolin 159 156-157, 159, 161, 163 Greenberg 162
Aristotle 21, 34, 36, 45, 50, 66, De Broglie 76 Greene 162
68, 74, 79, 105-106, 112, De Klerk 134, 161 Greenfield 162
152 De Swart 46, 161 Grene 95, 103, 123, 162
Augustine 27, 31, 57 Dedekind 33-37, 39, 44, 161
Azar 117, 159 H
Descartes 27, 55, 66, 75, 86,
107, 110, 134, 144, 153 Haas 106, 112-113, 128, 148,
B 162
Diels-Kranz 21, 161
Bar-Hillel 45, 161 Haeffner 133, 162
Dingler 72
Bartle 35, 159 Haldane 87-88
Dobzhansky 100, 109, Hallonquist 162
Bavink 157, 159
117-118, 132, 157, 161
Becker 21, 50, 159 Harrison 162
Dollo 138-139 Hart 119, 126-129, 131, 137,
Bell 29, 41, 159
Bendall 159, 161, 163 Dooyeweerd 25, 46, 76, 79, 141-142, 148, 150-151,
114, 142, 144, 160-161 155, 162, 169
Bernays 41, 45, 49, 112, 159
Beth 43, 46, 159 Driesch 105-106, 113, Hasse 23, 162, 168
146-147, 161 Hawking 28, 55, 57, 64-65,
Boethius 27
Duley 161 162
Bohr 55, 65, 75-76, 113, 159
Bolk 143, 159 Hebeda 163
E Heberer 162-163, 170
Bolzano 27, 32, 34-35, 160
Born 160 Ehrenhaft 81 Heimholtz 61
Bos 25, 160, 162, 165, 167 Eibl-Eibesfeldt 136, 161 Heimsoeth 27, 163
Boyer 24, 31, 160 Eigen 161 Heine 30, 163
Bricmont (vi), 168 Einstein 1-2, 9, 62-63, 65, 67, Heisenberg 1, 65, 67, 112, 163
Bromage 121, 160 69, 76, 161, 163, 167 Heitler 40, 106, 113, 161, 163
Brouwer 43, 46-47, 49, 66, Eisberg 76, 161 Henke 121-122, 163
160, 169 Eisenstein 111, 157, 161 Hentschel 163
Bryon 62, 160, 168 Euclides 23 Heraclitus 8, 21
Buytendijk 132, 160 Eudoxos 25 Hertz 75
Heyting 38-39, 45, 58, 163
C F Hilbert 43, 50, 55, 163, 167,
Cantor 19-21, 23, 32-33, 38, 170
Fales 72, 161 Hippasus 23, 169
42-45, 47-50, 160, 168
Faul 121, 161 Hobbes 55
Carnot 60
Feyerabend 119 Hoenen 79, 98
Cassirer 19, 44, 130, 133, 160,
167-168 Fischer 44, 48, 139, 161 Holz 151, 163
Cauchy 29-32 Fontana 102 Howells 163
Chiarelli 117, 122, 160 Fraenkel 38-39, 41-42, 44-45, Husserl 145, 163
Clark 121, 123, 125, 160, 164, 59, 161 Huxley 104, 157, 163
169 Frege 20, 39, 41, 159, 162-163
Clarke 123, 125, 160, 169 Freudenthal 162 J
Clausius 60 Friedrich 1, 162, 164 Jammer 163

175
Janich 8, 63, 163 McMullin 119, 165 Rosas 159
Jansen 163 Meijer 25, 165 Rucker 41, 167
Jaspers 149, 163 Merleau-Ponty 149, 165 Russell 4, 19, 50, 131, 167
Jevons 163 Meschkowski 19, 35, 37-38,
Jonas 83-84, 110-111, 149, 165 S
157, 163 Meyer 97, 107-108, 123, 165 Scheler 148, 167
Jones 86, 163 Miller 87, 165 Schelling 61, 147, 167
Millin 81 Schilder 27, 167
K Monod 165 Schilpp 67, 167-168
Moore 41, 165 Schindewolf 103-104,
Kant 2-4, 20, 40, 43, 47, 53, Munson 165, 168 123-124, 167
55, 58, 69-71, 73, 75, 127, Myhill 50, 165 Scholz 23, 43, 162, 168
130, 145-149, 151-154, Schopf 87, 168
160, 162-164, 168 N Schubert-Soldern 105-106,
Katscher 75, 164 Nagel 40, 165 168
Kaufmann 44, 164 Narr 124-128, 165 Schuurman 127, 168
Keith 120 Needham 107 Schwartz 117, 122-123, 168
Kerkut 164 Newton (vi), 8, 28-29, 55, 59, Silver 87-88, 168
Kitts 104, 164 75 Simpson 104-106, 118, 123,
Klaatsch 138 Nida 134, 165 137-138, 153, 157, 168
Kleene 43, 46, 164 Nietzsche 138 Singh 38
Kline 18, 38, 50, 164
O Sinnott 106, 113, 168
Koehler 130, 132, 164
Smart 19, 168
Kremer 27, 164 Oparin 85, 87-88, 165 Smuts 107
Kronecker 43 Orgel 87, 165
Sokal (vi),168
Kugel 155, 164 Origines 26
Spielberg 62, 160, 168
Kugler 148, 164 Overhage 142, 148, 165-166
Kuratowski 59 Spinoza 27, 107
P Stafleu 57, 62, 65, 70, 72, 168
L Stanley 87-88
Pannenberg 148, 166
Lagrange 38 Passmore 118, 166 Strauss 8, 80, 131, 141, 150,
155, 161, 168-169
Laitman 134-135, 164 Planck 63, 65, 72, 75, 166
Lakatos 119 Plato 8-10, 24, 73-74, 112 T
Landmann 136, 138-139, 164 Plessner 133, 148, 166
Laszlo 118-119, 157, 164, 167 Thesleff 23, 169
Plotinus 27, 31
Le Gros 121, 164 Polanyi 5, 109, 119, 157, 166 Thomas Aquinas 27, 68, 106
Leakey 120-121, 130, 132, Pongratz 166 Thompson 60
164 Pope (vi) Thorpe 93, 169
Leinfeller 91, 164 Popper 4-7, 54, 119, 166 Titze 22, 169
Lenk 164 Portmann 92, 128, 143-144, Tobias 120-122, 159-160,
Levy 45, 161 148, 164, 166, 170 162-165, 167-169
Liebig 61 Pretorius 118, 167 Trincher 100, 113, 169
Linnaeus 91 Pythagoras 23-24 Troll 91, 106, 169
Lloyd Morgan 118, 157
Lorenz 32, 44, 47, 58, 104, R V
132, 138-139, 141, 164 Rahner 165 Van Dalen 45, 161
Lorenzen 32, 44, 47, 58, 164 Rauche 150-153, 167 Van Huyssteen 154, 169
Lowenstein 120 Ray 91, 120 Van Melsen 81, 169
Reed 125-127, 167 Van Peursen 169
M Reid 42, 167-168, 170 Van Stigt 169
MacCurdy 120 Rensch 9, 109-111, 129, 132, Vollenhoven 60
Maimon 28, 32, 47, 164 157, 167, 169 Von Bertalanffy 88, 107, 136,
Malthus 164 Rickert 167 167, 169
Margenau 68, 165 Robinson 19, 29, 42, 167 Von Eickstedt 139, 169
McHenry 121, 165 Rombach 167 Von Fritz 24, 169

176
W Whitehead 50, 118, 157 Z
Watson 95-97, 99 Willard 35, 170 Zeno 21-23, 25-26, 75, 162
Weierstrass 30-32, 44 Wolf 38, 48, 91, 148, 170 Zermelo 20, 41, 50
Weiner 120, 162, 170 Zimmerman 91, 97, 102, 118,
Weiniger 78, 170 Woltereck 101, 108, 118-119, 170
157, 170
Weyl 25, 40, 42, 45, 66, 72,
170 Wundt 170

177

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