Problems of Metaphysics

Ontological Problem

Materialism and Its Justification

Thus, materialism is here denoted as the ontological theory that answers the question about the nature of reality by asserting that being, in its essence, is body; its attributes are extension and impenetrability, and its primary and inherent form of activity is motion. From these foundational principles, all phenomena of reality, particularly those referred to as phenomena of consciousness, may and must be explained.

The latter point, which reduces mental phenomena to physical ones, fundamentally constitutes the thesis of materialism. It is justified in the following manner. Experience presents us with the fact that mental phenomena, in general, occur only in the closest association with certain physical phenomena. To the best of our knowledge, only organic, or more precisely, only animal bodies serve as carriers of consciousness phenomena, which are particularly connected with the activities of the nervous system. Therefore, science must seek the cause of these phenomena in a specific property of these bodies: mental phenomena should be conceived of as a function of the nervous system.

Ordinary human reason draws a different conclusion from the same fact; as outlined in the previous chapter, it infers that there is something special in animals, some force or essence that produces these phenomena. This, the materialist philosopher argues, is a means of escape that pre-scientific thinking resorts to everywhere; whenever it encounters a group of unique phenomena, it posits some special force or essence for their explanation. Thus, primitive thought reduces weather phenomena to a god of thunder residing in the sky and explains illnesses by some pathogenic substance. In accordance with this reasoning, the long-dominant natural philosophy explained the rise of water in a well pipe by the fear of emptiness, horror vacui, and the phenomena of organic life through a special vital force. Similarly, consciousness phenomena are now explained as manifestations of a special principle, the soul. However, this does not yield any substantial gain; the soul is nothing more than a vis occulta, posited ad hoc, an otherwise unknown force or essence, just like horror vacui. To explain thinking through the soul is precisely equivalent to explaining the phenomenon of opium-induced sleep, alongside scholarly doctors in Molière's works, by positing a force that produces sleep within opium itself.

Scientific investigation, thus, continues the argument of materialism, distinguishes itself from pre-scientific ways of thinking in that it explains phenomena not in terms of essences and forces, but rather through other, prior, and simultaneous phenomena. To explain in science means to identify the law by which these phenomena are connected to others, so that their occurrence can be predicted from the occurrence of these others. For instance, scientific meteorology explains a thunderstorm by situating this phenomenon within a larger group of homogeneous phenomena, that is, recognizing lightning as an electric spark and subsequently investigating the conditions under which it arises, i.e., those phenomena that precede electrical charging and discharging in the atmosphere and accompany them.

The same task lies ahead for science regarding consciousness phenomena: it must find phenomena that correctly precede and accompany them in order to thereby determine the natural and lawful connection between these phenomena. The accompanying and preceding phenomena, as experience reveals, are precisely the physiological phenomena occurring in the brain and nervous system. In accordance with this, the task of science is to replace the false science of "psychology" with its pre-scientific principles of "soul" and "forces of the soul" with a natural scientific explanation; scientific psychology is physiology.

Such would be the formal principle. As for the matter itself, one could go further and say: the so-called phenomena of consciousness, which initially appear so unique and incomparable, do not represent anything special at all; rather, science can see in them only specific, uniquely modified forms of movement; mental phenomena, when considered objectively, are nothing more than physiological phenomena.

This can be strictly demonstrated in the following manner. The highest principle of all contemporary natural science is the principle of conservation of energy: the sum of actual motion and motive force remains constant. Motion is transmitted and transformed; mass movement transforms into molecular movement, living force converts into potential force, yet it remains conserved without loss in the latter and can be restored from it. We now have two cases before us: external movement enters the nervous system; air vibrations emanating from a struck bell reach the auditory nerve and stimulate a physiological process that can be shown to propagate through the nerve fibers to the central organ. At this point, we are unable to trace it to its ultimate transformations, but undoubtedly it does not simply vanish. Simultaneously—this we know through other means—sensation arises, a sound is heard. We conclude: sensation is nothing more than a discharge of a nervous phenomenon in the central organ caused by peripheral nerve irritation.

The reverse process appears similarly. I extend my hand and grasp an object; physiology explains this phenomenon as follows: the contraction of muscle fibers is the immediate cause of the movement of limbs at the joints; this itself occurs again as an action conducted by impulses through motor nerve fibers, which we can trace back to the central organ. Here, it eludes precise physiological explanation for the time being. Yet, again, the phenomenon emerges that simultaneously, through another pathway, a mental phenomenon occurs, a stimulation of the will accompanied by feelings and representations. We conclude: a mental phenomenon is, in and of itself, a physical phenomenon, specifically that which must be posited as the cause of the innervation of motor fibers. For the natural scientific perspective must firmly uphold that physical action must have a physical cause. If we allow that mere intention, in itself, as a simple phenomenon of consciousness, can cause movement, then we abandon the foundational principle of natural science, and the matter appears endless. If a simple thought can set a brain molecule in motion, then it might just as well move mountains and divert the moon from its path; both are equally intelligible or unintelligible.

This proof, therefore, based on the assumption that so-called phenomena of consciousness are included, as components, in the physical cycle of organic life, can be reinforced and made more convincing through biological and cosmological considerations.

Here, reference is made to the facts of comparative anatomy, which demonstrate a constant parallelism between the development of the nervous system and the life of the mind: the brain and consciousness grow in tandem throughout the ascending scale of animal life. Man, both in the development of consciousness and in the size and internal complexity of the brain—especially the cerebrum—stands at the pinnacle of the animal kingdom. Although the absolute weight of his brain is not the largest (for instance, the brain of an elephant exceeds it by almost threefold), the ratio of brain weight to total body mass is significantly more favorable: his brain weighs roughly one-fortieth of his total body weight, whereas in the elephant it barely reaches one five-hundredth. It is true that in certain cases—specifically in birds—the relative brain weight may exceed that of humans, but these are clearly exceptional circumstances explained by the abnormal lightness of a bird's body. Undoubtedly, the human brain surpasses that of all animals by the sheer magnitude and internal development of the cerebrum—the true organ of consciousness.

This same parallelism is repeated within the human species: the development of the brain and the cultural achievements of races stand in direct proportionality. Likewise, within races—as numerous measurements of the cranial volumes of distinguished individuals suggest—a higher spiritual endowment corresponds to a brain development exceeding the average; conversely, stupidity often accompanies small-headedness or underdeveloped brains. Thus, all these facts seem to indicate that the soul is the brain.

Physiological and pathological experiments and observations demonstrate this close connection between brain and soul no less clearly. Every disorder or injury to the brain results in disturbances of mental life. The removal of layers of the brain in animals or the destruction of certain parts leads to the simultaneous cessation of specific mental functions. Accidental injuries in humans produce the same effects. All psychiatric writings contain numerous observations on mental disorders caused by external brain injuries. A bone fragment penetrates the brain: as a result, not only is intellectual activity disrupted, but there is also a complete alteration of character—the patient becomes distrustful, withdrawn, and capricious. Upon the removal of the cause—the bone fragment—the mental alteration vanishes as well. Similarly, in old age, a gradual decline in mental faculties, often leading to a complete loss of judgment (dementia senilis), occurs with anatomical studies revealing that the cause lies in the narrowing and degeneration of the brain. Modern psychiatry, having passed through the school of natural science, is convinced that every mental illness is a brain disorder, whether or not it can be anatomically proven. Therefore, the brain is the soul.

Cosmological considerations lead to the same conclusion. There was a time—modern cosmology teaches—when there was no organic life on Earth, and consequently no mental life, no phenomena of consciousness. There was even a time when Earth itself did not exist. What we now call our planetary system, in primordial times, took the form of a vast gaseous or nebulous mass. As this mass rotated around its axis, a thickening occurred at the equator; with further contraction, this thickening separated from the central body as a freely floating ring, which eventually broke apart to form an independent body. This process repeated itself, giving rise to a system of planets revolving around the Sun as the central body. One of these planets is our Earth. Initially, it was a molten drop of cosmic matter, but it gradually cooled, forming a solid crust, and water vapor condensed into liquid. Only then could organic life emerge, beginning in the most primitive form—tiny fragments of protoplasm. Gradually, these tiny bodies acquired internal structure, cells with membranes and nuclei emerged, capable of reproduction by division and of combining into complex systems. As the differentiation of parts and their transformation into diverse organs progressed, external differentiation followed, leading to the development of various forms of living beings. Finally, from one branch of the diverse animal kingdom, man emerged, and he slowly gained dominance over other creatures, first growing gradually, then increasingly rapidly. So much so that when man later began to ponder his origins, the idea of kinship with the lower world seemed utterly incredible to him, and he imagined a more exalted beginning. Natural science dispelled this dream; it shows that man did not enter creation in perfect form, as a divine son in a prepared and awaiting world, but that he, a poor being born from dust, earned his existence through a hard-fought struggle with his kind. Countless generations have passed, unrecorded by any history, before finally, in the struggle for existence, his entire organism, and especially his brain, developed to the point where he could become the bearer of spiritual and historical life. Such is the past of spirit on Earth, the only spirit of which we are aware. But what of its future?

Cosmic physics, we are told, leaves no doubt that life, and with it the spirit, as they have had a beginning, will also have an end. A time will come when the Sun will no longer shine in the sky. Its store of heat is not infinitely vast; as it is constantly expended without adequate replenishment, it must eventually be exhausted. Earth will freeze long before this happens. The source of all motion and life on Earth's surface is solar heat; a relatively small reduction in its supply would suffice to wipe out organic life. In the end, the entire terrestrial body will fall into immobile, icy rigidity.

Such depictions are well-suited to evoke a crushing impression of life's insignificance and futility. Just as a loaf of bread is covered with a film of mold, a whole world of living plants, Earth, at a certain moment in its long development, became covered with a world of living organisms. Among these organisms, man is merely one of many accidents in this game of formations. After a brief flourishing, this world will once again sink into the nothingness from which it emerged; only one thing will remain: eternal matter and the laws of its motion. Between the infinite past, when no life existed, and the infinite future, when no life will exist, there emerges a moment of present life, a single moment—though we may measure it in millions of years—and in that moment, a small portion of infinite matter exhibits that wondrous phenomenon, as though it were phosphorescence, which we call self-consciousness or spiritual life—a brief intermezzo which, no matter how great and important it may seem to us, is but a trivial accident in the grand scheme of the world. Matter and motion are the realities, and the strange disguise in which motion briefly appears is of no consequence to the world—a "fleeting game of a mayfly over the sea of eternity and infinity."