Problems of Metaphysics

Cosmological-Theological Problem

The question concerning the essence of the actual constitutes an ontological problem. The cosmological problem, on the other hand, pertains to the relationship between the actual and its composite structure. I will first delineate the facts that give rise to this question.

For the ordinary mind, the world appears as a multiplicity of autonomous entities, each possessing its existence independent of all others. In any case, they do not remain completely indifferent to one another; rather, they exist in mutual relations, acting upon each other. However, this interrelation of interaction is not necessary for the existence of each element in isolation.

Upon closer examination, several remarkable facts emerge. First, action and suffering do not occur randomly or sporadically but continuously and universally. Each part of reality is in a state of constant interaction with every other part. Thus teaches physics. A tile falls from a roof. We say: the earth attracts it with a corresponding mass through a force; this means that its movement at every moment is determined by the relationship of all its parts to all the parts constituting the body of the earth. Were the mass of the earth lesser, or were any part temporarily inactive, the movement of the particle would differ: on the Moon, it would fall more slowly; on Jupiter, more swiftly. Likewise, all parts of the tile act upon the earth, imparting to it an impulse to move towards the common center of gravity. Hence, the movement of the tile appears to us as part of the collective motion it undertakes along with all parts of the earth towards a shared goal—the center of gravity of the system. Simultaneously, this system is similarly related to a larger system; any change occurring within it, even the slightest displacement of the center of gravity, impacts the motion of the entire planetary system. This latter, in turn, interacts with a more extensive realm—the Milky Way system, for which we, of course, lack sufficient data. Thus, all particles of mass, positioned in space next to one another, constitute a single system with a unified motion, wherein each movement of any part is included and determined as a partial movement.

The same connection that encompasses all movements in space into a comprehensive unity also unites them in a temporal continuity. A tile was cast from the roof by a hurricane. The flow of air results from the varying heating of different parts of the earth's surface; this cause, in turn, arises from prior circumstances, such as cloud cover, precipitation, ocean currents, the contours of the earth's surface, and its movements, ad infinitum. If a perfect counter could accurately account for the masses, their positions, and movements relative to each other at some arbitrarily distant moment in the past, it could likewise predict the occurrence of a specific event at a precise time and place, much like an astronomer calculates the entrance of the Moon into the Earth’s shadow to the second.

We thus arrive at the formula: all movements in infinite time and space effectively form a singular movement; the corporeal world is a unified system with a grand movement to which all individual movements relate as assumed parts of the whole. Or, to borrow the words of Leibniz: “every body perceives all that occurs in the entire world, so that he who sees everything could read in each individual the entirety of occurrences everywhere, even all that has happened and will happen, perceiving in the present the distant in time and space” (Monadology, § 61).

The second fact that significantly stands out in the structure of the world is the predominance of universal laws. The uniformity of elements is so profound that the mode of action of all of them—at least from known perspectives—can be expressed in simple formulas. The laws of mechanics or the law of gravitation are, as it is assumed, at least by physics and astronomy, a precise expression of the manner in which any particle of mass acts, regardless of its location in infinite space, operating anywhere in infinite time; each could take the place of any other of equal mass without causing any alteration in the cosmic order. This homogeneity of all parts of reality is evidently not necessary for our thinking; it would be entirely conceivable, and under the assumption that the world consists of many absolutely independent elements, one might even expect that these latter would exhibit all sorts of diverse actions. In that case, natural science, in the modern sense, would perhaps be impossible—possibly even altogether unattainable. The fact that it exists is a fortunate contingency for our thinking.

Finally, we come to the third significant fact: the cosmic division of reality. The single grand system we call the world shows a propensity for the peculiar arrangement of its parts, specifically a tendency to break down into smaller, relatively self-contained systems, with correspondingly unified motions. The most extensive system that we can survey is our planetary system; being itself a relatively self-contained partial system of a higher order, it in turn divides into smaller unities—celestial bodies, some of which again appear as multiple cosmic systems, planets with moons and rings. Each of these parts exhibits, like the entire Solar System, cyclical motion and unified development: each celestial body moves in periodic rotation around its own axis and around a central body; simultaneously, it traverses a series of evolutionary stages that culminate in a singular history. Concerning Earth, we can outline its developmental history, at least in broad strokes. On Earth, the only celestial body we are intimately familiar with in detail, we again encounter what seem to be reduced copies of these cosmic unities—organisms. As microcosms, they replicate the developmental process of the macrocosms, representing cohesive divided systems with a series of periodically recurring changes (circulation, respiration, metabolism, generational turnover) encompassed by a common development (birth, growth, aging, death). Everywhere these changes unfold within relatively self-contained unities, yet maintaining relations to movements in the larger system: plants and animals, with their cyclical life processes, are integrated into the cyclical motions of the Earth; generational turnover generally follows the seasonal changes—thus correlating with the movement of the Earth around the central body; vital activity and metabolism are closely related to the alternation of day and night—thus connecting to the Earth’s rotation around its axis. Finally, physiology further divides living bodies into smaller unities, cells, which on a reduced scale again display the same microcosmic character. Ultimately, chemistry reveals that all bodies, both organic and inorganic, consist of small systems, molecules, which chemistry reconstructs again as a play of presumed parts, atoms. This analysis pauses for now, leaving the future to construct atoms as complex systems. Thus, natural science presents reality as a wholly unified and entirely divided cosmos.

It is easy to see that the spiritual realm, as far as we understand it, reveals the same character: unity and division are prominent fundamental features here as well. In the spiritual-historical world, there are no disconnected elements, just as in the physical world; on the contrary, all these elements coalesce into the unity of spiritual-historical life. Let us take an individual life as an example. Its content cannot be described otherwise than by including it in an historical connection; within it resides the entirety of contemporary history and all of the past, and its actions extend into a whole future. The biography of Lessing cannot be written without encountering Frederick the Great and Voltaire, Goethe and Gottsched, Leibniz and Spinoza. Yet each of these figures, in turn, stands in new relations to their contemporaries and predecessors; a whole historical world of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries penetrates here, and it would only be arbitrary to isolate any particularity and present it separately. Moreover, the development of modern times is intricately linked to the Renaissance and the Reformation, as well as to the medieval and ancient periods; in the Greek world, the ancient ages intersect with the East; all of this constitutes the condition of the spiritual content we call the life of Lessing. Thus, it is evident that the spiritual-historical world, like the physical world, represents a unity: all in each, and each in all.

In a similar manner, we observe a tendency to form smaller, relatively closed circles: humanity is divided into nations, each of which constitutes a unity of spiritual life, enclosed within the unity of language, in which spiritual content is objectified; nations, in turn, are subdivided into tribes, these into provinces, provinces into localities, and localities into families; each of these groups represents a singular, relatively self-enclosed circle with its own history and distinct spiritual content. The latter unities culminate in individuals, within whom larger circles specialize into a singular, ever-emergent formation of inner life.

Thus, as far as we can see, reality presents itself as a unified, differentiated system governed by universal laws—a cosmos. This is a fact. Now the question arises: how should we interpret or construct this fact? How is it that the world is not a chaotic multitude of elements that are absolutely indifferent to one another? It would even be conceivable for this to be the case; whence arises the cosmic nature of the actual, the division and interconnection of all things into a single great existence, one through another and for another?

There are three attempts to resolve this question, three cosmological hypotheses: atomism, anthropomorphic theism, and pantheism.

Atomism (which need not necessarily be materialistic: a strictly delineated monadology also belongs here) posits that, due to the mere accidental coexistence of entirely independent primary elements, the appearance of unity arises. There is no inherent inner connection among the atoms; rather, as they move and meet in empty space, indifferent to one another, the transient combinations we refer to as things and the relationships between things come into being. As infinitely many elements move chaotically in infinite space and infinite time, various combinations must occur temporarily.

Anthropomorphic theism, on the other hand, asserts that it is inconceivable for the unity, division, and order of reality to be the result of chance or blind lawful movement; the form of the world can only be explained by the activity of a purposefully acting architectural reason, which anticipates the course and division of the world in its thoughts.

Finally, pantheism posits that the principle of unity is immanent to the world. Reality is a singular being; it is not unity but multiplicity that is the illusion. Or, the elements of reality do not represent independent things, the sum of which would constitute a whole, but rather they are posited by the whole as moments, existing within it as definitions or modifications of its essence.