The Historical Development of Philosophy

Greek Philosophy

The Development of Cosmological Thought

The cosmological thought of the seventh and sixth centuries raises the question of the ultimate foundation of things. It was taken for granted that this foundation, or principle (ἀρχή) of all being, must be singular. Thus emerges the notion of a universal unity that contrasts with the multitude of phenomena, through which attempts are made to explain the connections among this multitude and diversity, as well as the regularity manifesting first and foremost in the most general cosmic processes, such as the alternation of day and night, and the movement of the stars. The simplest form in which this notion appears among the Ionian thinkers of the seventh century is the concept of a singular cosmic substance from which things arise in eternal motion and into which they transform again. This singular cosmic substance, in its primordial semi-mythical form, is the most widely perceived matter, the most prevalent and, at the same time, that which occupies a mediating position by its properties—water. For Thales of Miletus, this water is not an immutable substance in the sense of a later philosophical concept of substance; rather, it is the most changeable of all existing things, and only for this reason does it serve as the substrate of all changes.

From this idea—that all perceived distinctions among things arise through the changes of forms taken by a singular cosmic substance—it is not far to the thought that this singular substrate of changes cannot be any specific, separate substance, but can only be an indefinite, boundless substance from which objects continually arise and in which they disappear again. Indeed, already in the work of the second Ionian, Anaximander, there arises the notion of an indefinite substance, ἄπειρον, as the principle of things, which must be conceived of as qualitatively boundless, from which, in infinite diversity, the properties of objects emanate. Subsequently, it may be necessary to regard the teachings of the third Milesian thinker, Anaximenes, as an attempt to reconcile these views, for he again made a tangible substance—the most mobile and, therefore, seemingly the most changeable—as the principle of things: air.

Probably, independently of these ancient Ionian thinkers, philosophers in the Greek colonies of Lower Italy emerged, infused with the same idea of a universal unity. However, it was not so much the representation of a singular cosmic substance, a common substrate, that guided Pythagoras and his followers in their exploration of the cosmic whole, but rather the demand for a singular governing principle of the universe, a singular regularity prevailing in things, manifesting in the order of their distribution in space and in the regularity of their motions. They observed, first and foremost, the regularity in the movements of celestial bodies and sought to extend this regularity to earthly phenomena, both physical and moral. Acknowledging that regularity is generally expressed in a constant numerical relationship, they perceived the cosmic order as the dominion of numbers; in this sense, they extended to the universe as a whole the concept of cosmos, originally denoting "order" or "decoration." In the spatial relations of the celestial spheres, the same numerical relationships largely prevail that exist in the relationships of the lengths of strings of harmonious tones; thus, the Pythagoreans also attributed numerical properties to individual objects. However, when Aristotle speaks of the Pythagoreans considering objects as numbers, we must not forget that abstract numbers were as foreign to them as abstract substances were to the Ionians. Just as the Greeks in antiquity developed mathematics predominantly in the form of geometry and thus sought to represent arithmetic laws in geometric form, the Pythagoreans regarded numbers as sensibly perceivable spatial figures. This is confirmed by the information we have about the Pythagoreans, for example, that for them a point signified one, a straight line—two, and a triangle—three. Such expressions likely held little symbolic significance; rather, mathematics in its most ancient period could conceive the notion of number only in a sensibly perceivable form, and the purely spatial form, simultaneously arithmetic and geometric, represented the simplest and most abstract concept for them. Therefore, the Pythagorean worldview can ultimately be expressed as follows: for them, the cosmic space was the common substrate of things; individual things were thought to consist of regular spatial forms, geometric figures, into which this space was divided; furthermore, they attributed a constant regularity, expressed in simple numbers and correct geometric relationships, to all movements in cosmic space. Moreover, as the Pythagoreans reduced not only the corporeal world and its laws—such as the physical properties of substances, the relationships of lengths of strings in the scale of tones, and the distances of the seven planets established by analogy with the latter—but also social relations and moral qualities of humans, such as honor, love, practical wisdom, prudence, etc., they revealed a naive mingling of the sensuous and the spiritual.

The Pythagoreans viewed the cosmic order exclusively from its quantitative aspect; in contrast, during the sixth century, there emerged movements that, again, like the ancient Ionian thinkers, understood the idea of a universal unity qualitatively. However, in this case, they saw the universal unity not in a singular cosmic substance but in a singular governing principle of the universe, a single notion prevailing over the change of all phenomena. For the Eleatics, this notion serves as being, which remains constant amidst all changes of things, and in relation to which all that is changing is considered invalid, merely a simple phantom; for Heraclitus and his school, it is the flux of things, continuous change itself, while permanence for him is merely a simple phantom. These two concepts represent the primary prototypes of the established notions of "substance" and "causality" as later defined in philosophy, appearing in these schools in one-sided, mutually exclusive forms. These notions still present themselves here in a semi-sensory, semi-symbolic manner, thus revealing a certain kinship with the cosmic substance of the ancient Ionians: thus, the Eleatic Parmenides presents resting being in the image of a self-enclosed cosmic sphere, while Heraclitus depicts the principle of becoming as an all-consuming, ever-moving fire.

Nevertheless, among the thinkers we are examining, behind such sensuous representations stands a common thought, although still not fully purified from its contemplative form, namely, the idea that such representations merely express the law prevailing in the world. This is clearly evident in the Eleatics' assertion that what remains constant in change is being, as well as in Heraclitus's teaching about the continuous destruction and rebirth of things through fire. By making either permanence or change the sole principle of the cosmic order, both of these worldviews effectively close themselves off from a complete understanding of reality, which inherently includes both of these moments. Consequently, both the Eleatic teachings, founded by Xenophanes and Parmenides, as well as Heraclitus's worldview in his disciple Cratylus, devolve into skepticism— a direction that tends to adopt a simply negative stance toward conventional understanding of the world rather than striving to positively replace it with another. Thus, Zeno attempts, through dialectical reasoning, to prove that motion and the multiplicity of things are empty, deceptive illusions, while Cratylus applies Heraclitus's doctrine of flux to human knowledge, asserting the impossibility of establishing any concept within this continuous movement.

Until now, the idea of universal unity, whether conceived as a singular substrate or a universal law of things, as cosmic substance or cosmic order, has had a macrocosmic character within the framework of ancient Greek thought. The gaze of thinkers during this period was directed towards the world as a whole; individual phenomena held significance only in relation to the entirety. However, in the fifth century, primarily within Greece itself and its colonies, thinkers emerged whose perspectives substantially diverged from those of their predecessors. They sought to comprehend not individual phenomena from the whole, but rather to derive the whole from individual phenomena, elucidating the complex occurrences of the universe from the interplay of forms and movements of substances in simple phenomena. In this shift, microcosmic investigation supplanted macrocosmic inquiry. This transformation closely aligns with a further evolution in understanding: the more exclusively the study focuses on an individual phenomenon, the less feasible it becomes to separate the ideas of cosmic substance and cosmic order, thus making it impossible to single out one or the other as the foundation for explaining the world, as was done previously. An individual phenomenon, by its very nature, embodies a substance possessing a specific form; in it, the notion of substrate and the principle of order in phenomena necessarily converge into a singular understanding. This newly emerged concept, through which the microcosmic idea is articulated, is that of the element (στοιχεΐον, as it is later termed by Aristotle, or σπέρμα, the seed of things, as most thinkers refer to it). An element is, by its nature, a formed substance: it serves not only as a substrate for phenomena but also possesses a particular regularity governing its actions. Furthermore, it is essential for the element that it never exists in isolation from others but always in relation to a multitude of diverse elements. Through this characteristic, microcosmic understanding can elucidate the vast array of phenomena.

In this context, the indicated direction further divides into two branches, mirroring the bifurcation of macrocosmic thought. The doctrine of qualitatively distinct elements, espoused by the later school of Ionian physicists, Empedocles, and Anaxagoras—considered a continuation of the Ionian teachings on cosmic substance—stands in contrast to the atomism of Leucippus and Democritus, which presents a theory of quantitatively distinct elements. Empedocles of Akragas established four independent qualitatively different elements: fire, air, water, and earth, which later, through Aristotle, dominated the discourse on elements for many centuries. Anaxagoras of Clazomenae, following the path of Anaximander in ancient Ionian physics, replaces these elements, defined in specific sensory phenomena, with an unlimited number of qualitatively distinct particles, termed homoiomeries by Aristotle, from which the perceptible phenomena should arise. In contrast, the atomism stemming from Leucippus, further developed by Democritus, posits that the material elements are qualitatively homogeneous, differing only in their quantitative properties: size, weight, and shape. Consequently, perhaps influenced by Pythagorean teachings and, in any case, aligning with them, atomism asserts that things are composed of particles possessing regular forms—spherical, cubic, octahedral, etc. However, atomism fundamentally claims the indivisibility of these elements and their separation by empty intervening spaces, within which their movements occur. Additionally, reminiscent of Pythagoreanism, atomism shares a general conception of the world where the motions of celestial bodies are understood to consist of uniform circular movements. Yet here, too, atomists replace the overarching idea of cosmic harmony with a representation of mechanical regularity, acknowledging that atoms, as they fall within cosmic space, generate whirl-like motions due to the collisions between heavier and lighter ones. This conception of the origins of grand cosmic movements, alongside the theory of matter's formation from atoms, has significantly influenced even modern natural philosophy.

This dichotomy between qualitatively and quantitatively distinct elements further gives rise to a deeper distinction within these latter branches of cosmological speculation, which has had a decisive impact on their subsequent influence on the evolution of philosophy. The doctrine of qualitatively distinct elements inherently requires a principle that generates both the mixture and separation of elements; it understands this principle, certainly by analogy with human actions, as spiritual: love and hate are the opposing forces recognized by Empedocles as foundational principles; reason, or νους, is the general cause of emergence as identified by Anaxagoras, highlighting the purposeful nature of things. Thus, from the doctrine of qualitatively distinct elements arises a dualistic worldview, wherein the corporeal and spiritual realms are founded on differing principles, with the spiritual reigning supreme. Atomism, in contrast, explains everything in terms of matter and the movement of atoms: aside from the elements and their properties, it requires no other principle. In this sense, it represents a monistic and materialistic outlook. However, it is materialistic not in the contemporary sense of the term: while it posits that spirit consists of atoms, it does not deny its independent existence.

In the clash of worldviews that emerged in these final offspring of cosmological speculation, the dualistic doctrine of elements initially triumphed. It is associated with the natural philosophy of Plato and Aristotle. In contrast, Democritus's atomism was later revitalized within the guiding principles of modern natural science.