Philosophy of the Modern Age

Metaphysics and Rationalist Epistemology of B. Spinoza and G. Leibniz

If, beginning with F. Bacon, empiricism developed in the Age of Enlightenment—most prominently in England—then on the continent, R. Descartes spearheaded the advancement of rationalism. Among the most notable thinkers of this school are Spinoza and Leibniz.

Benedict (Baruch) Spinoza (1632-1677) was born in Amsterdam to a Jewish merchant family. He spent several years studying at a religious school affiliated with the Jewish community (synagogue), but his father withdrew him to assist with trade affairs. Nevertheless, Spinoza found himself more drawn to science and philosophy. His inquisitive mind and critical stance towards the Bible ultimately led to his estrangement from the community, culminating in a public “great excommunication” in 1656. Following this event, Spinoza left Amsterdam, residing in the countryside for several years while he learned lens grinding to earn a living. In 1669, he moved to The Hague. A year later, he anonymously published the "Theological-Political Treatise," but his authorship was soon revealed, leading to his persecution as an enemy of religion and an atheist. In 1675, he completed his principal work, "Ethics," which he was unable to publish during his lifetime. Spinoza passed away on February 21, 1677. In December of that year, friends published his "Posthumous Works," which were immediately banned. It took nearly 150 years for these works to be republished. Here, we shall focus on two of Spinoza’s works: "Ethics" and "Political Treatise."

"Ethics" is Spinoza's foundational work, wherein he systematically presents what he refers to in some of his other writings as “our philosophy.” This work is characterized by an entirely unconventional method of exposition (the “geometric order of demonstration”) that may shock contemporary readers. Definitions are presented as axioms and postulates, theorems and lemmas, accompanied by proofs, corollaries (addenda, conclusions), and scholia (notes, explanations of the text); theorems are divided into parts and bear a strict numbering system that the author consistently employs to direct the reader back to previous propositions. Why did he adopt such a method? There were likely many reasons, the primary one being that Spinoza sought a means to directly engage the reader's intellect, bypassing the emotional and metaphorical dimensions of communication that often complicate the understanding of the core text.

There is reason to believe that Spinoza viewed "Ethics" as a tool of “philosophical therapy,” a healing manual for thought and life, wherein reading restores the mind, engages it with truth, and guides it towards righteous actions. It seems as if "Ethics" serves as a proclamation from an authorial intellect that has already undergone the schooling of truth to a reader's intellect that has just begun its journey toward it. Ideally, the two minds should converge: one, blissfully vacated; the other, inspiringly filled. Like a seasoned mentor, Spinoza sometimes restrains the reader's potential deviation from the logic of his presentation, patiently urging them to continue together along the path to the end, where doubts will dissipate, and the temporary, extraneous associations and questions that arise upon reading will lose their relevance and fade away.

To this explanation of Spinoza’s method of exposition, one further consideration should be added. In the preface to the third part of "Ethics," the author notes that some may find it strange that he intends to explore human vices and follies geometrically and to introduce rigorous proofs into the realm of questionable matters. However, he is convinced that the laws of nature, governing all that occurs, are universally constant, and thus, the method of knowing the nature of things must also remain singular. Hence, Spinoza concludes, “I will consider human actions and appetites just as if they were lines, surfaces, and bodies.”

This explanation should be duly noted, yet the phrase “just as if” suggests a degree of conditionality that must be taken into account when attempting to discern the motivations behind his choice of this unconventional mode of exposition.

In the structure of Spinoza’s philosophy, which is constructed as a series of sequential proofs, considerable importance is attributed to the definitions of foundational concepts. Among the most crucial of these are substance, attributes, and modes.

Substance (from Latin substantia—essence; first principle) is one of the oldest philosophical concepts, possessing a long and complex history both before and after Spinoza. In "Ethics," substance is defined in rather vague terms due to the extreme abstractness of the category, something akin to this: substance is that which exists in and of itself, requiring nothing outside of itself, thus being “the cause of itself.” Through various designations, substance can be represented as God or as all of nature. Substance—or God or nature—is eternal, infinite, and free, for it exists and acts solely out of the necessity of its own power.

An attribute (from Latin attributum—property) is defined by Spinoza as that which constitutes the essence of substance. Attributes are essential properties of the eternal and infinite substance, autonomous in relation to one another yet inseparable from substance. While the number of such properties is infinite, Spinoza specifically discusses only two: extension and thought.

Modes (from Latin modus—measure, position, manner) are the states of substance, that which exists in another. Modes are connected to substance through attributes. Concrete entities with their specific properties are modes (modifications) of the infinite attributes of substance.

Therefore, regardless of what Spinoza may claim about the number of attributes, he is effectively speaking of two—extension and thought. Behind “thought” as an attribute of substance lies a long chain of modes: all emotions, passions, feelings, thoughts, and ideas. In the second part of "Ethics," an important proposition is presented regarding the congruence of the order and connection of ideas with the order and connection of things, for no matter under which attribute we present nature, all are equivalent, as all attributes pertain to the same: “... The thinking substance and the extended substance comprise the same substance, understood in one instance under one attribute and in another under another. Similarly, the mode of extension and the idea of that mode constitute one and the same thing, merely expressed in two ways... Thus, for example, the circle that exists in nature and the idea of that circle, which resides in God, are one and the same thing expressed through different attributes. Therefore, whether we conceive of nature under the attribute of extension, or under the attribute of thought, or under any other attribute, we shall invariably find the same order, in other words, the same connection of causes, that is, the same things following one another.” A human being, forming a unity of extended body and thinking soul, is likewise a mode of the attributes of God. It is upon these foundations that the concept of the cognitive process is constructed.

A series of states of the human body corresponds strictly to a series of ideas of the soul; when external causes (bodies) act upon the human body, there are ideas in the soul concerning these external bodies as well. The more states the human body undergoes, the more ideas are present in the soul. All ideas, insofar as they pertain to God, are true. The mark of falsity applies only to inadequate and unclear ideas associated with the individual souls of distinct beings. Therefore, in an absolute sense, there is no difference between false and true ideas; there are only ideas that are more or less adequate. This last assertion finds support in the teaching concerning three kinds of knowledge: 1) knowledge through chaotic experience and imagination, which gives us mere opinion; 2) reason; 3) intuitive knowledge. Only the last two types of knowledge are necessarily true. All people at these levels are united by a single source—the commonality in things: "There are certain ideas or concepts that are common to all people, as all bodies share something that should be adequately perceived by everyone, that is, clearly and distinctly." One form of inadequate knowledge manifests in people's opinions about the existence of randomness.

The aforementioned positions regarding knowledge are further utilized by Spinoza for the analysis of affects, assessing their oppressive power to substantiate the direction towards human freedom through the use of reason. Adequate and inadequate ideas correspond to an active or passive state of the soul, which correlates, through the convergence of the order of ideas and the order of things, with the activity or passivity of the body. Yet in both states, people perceive their actions as free, although in reality, inadequate perception corresponds to unfreedom. The soul, possessing adequate or inadequate ideas, equally strives to maintain its state (of activity or passivity). If the striving pertains solely to the soul, it is termed will; if it relates to both the soul and the body together, it is called inclination. When an inclination is conscious, it is termed desire. Desire, satisfaction, and dissatisfaction are the fundamental affects (passions) from which all others originate. In the case of the negative role of affects (in the passive state of the soul), circumstances arise such that individuals are only aware of their desires and actions but do not know their causes. From all this, it follows that for us, who understand the true causes of negative affects and the negative actions of people, a position of calm acceptance must be adopted towards others (not to grieve, not to laugh, but to understand). Evaluations such as "good," "evil," "perfect," and "imperfect" are merely human superstitions. Things themselves are neutral in relation to human judgments. Yet Spinoza employs these terms, designating as good and perfect all that is beneficial to human nature. He perceives liberation from the power of passions in clear and distinct knowledge. Affects corresponding to a passive state, which are thereby contrary to our nature, cease to oppress us as soon as we form a clear idea of those affects. Such an idea is best constructed on the basis of the third kind of knowledge; it minimizes the power of affects and leads to the union of humanity with God based on the love of knowledge. In this, according to Spinoza, lies our salvation, bliss, or freedom.

A distinctive continuation and simultaneously a complement to the "Ethics" is the "Political Treatise." One can glean insights into Spinoza's understanding of the relationship between ethics and politics from the introduction to this treatise. Ethics pertains to the nature of humanity as an individual, considering the characteristics of temperament, reason, emotion, will, etc.—essentially, all that can be termed character or disposition (this is one of the meanings of the Latin term ethica, another being the science of customs)—which determines the course of an individual's behavior with natural necessity. The so-called "political" relates to the realm of collective human existence, wherein society and the state are perceived as one collective body. Politics is the science of effectively governing society based on reason. One reason for the failures in establishing an acceptable political science, according to Spinoza, lies in philosophers' failure to base politics on genuine human nature; they merely mock it, substituting a fictitious human nature that has never existed anywhere. Therefore, without proper ethical knowledge, there can be no accurate political theory.

Accepting people as they are and eschewing any illusions regarding the potential rise of new righteous leaders, Spinoza aims to examine the general conditions that can always ensure the well-being of the state and the free and secure existence of individuals, regardless of whether a specific ruler is guided by reason or affects, or other motives. We should focus on such concepts in the treatise as natural right, the right of supreme authority, and freedom.

Natural right is based on the laws of human nature, which tends more to indulge its desires than to reason. The degree of each individual's legal capacity is determined by the strength of their individual nature ("each person has as much right as they can"), yet not to the extent that anyone is entirely deprived of natural right. People retain this right both when a wise individual acts based on reason and when an ignorant one submits their behavior to affects. One cannot help but notice in this philosopher's stance manifestations of humanism and equality. In some foundational dimension, in a hypothetical natural state, people are equal; each person's actions are justified by their nature. In this state, there is no criminal behavior.

Limitations on the capacity for action concern the transition to social existence and the state; however, these too have boundaries: that which cannot be prohibited must necessarily be permitted, even if harm may often result from it. Thus, the supreme authority cannot elevate demands to the level of law that cannot be fulfilled in their essence. "I cannot," says Spinoza, "make my table eat grass, even though I have the right to dispose of it." So too with the state. In demanding obedience from citizens, it cannot push its claims to absurdity—such as demanding that people fly or obliging the sick to be healthy. To realms free from the violence of power, Spinoza refers to the domain of thought, as well as printed and spoken expression. The mind, as it employs reason, is not subject to the law of supreme authority. And since this is so, the concept of crime can also be applied to the state if it sins by failing to act when "the rules of natural things and, above all, reason require it," or acts contrary to them. But how should we regard a state prone to vice? Spinoza here is exceedingly cautious, leaning more towards trusting the state than the opinions of private individuals. Only the supreme authority has the right to judge the actions of each; it is not obligated to consider anyone but itself and is not obliged to recognize anything as good or evil except what it deems such for itself. This is the essence of the state’s right by its nature. Simultaneously, in the treatise, we find the author’s thoughts on the possibility of the state preventing vices and even combating its shortcomings.

The deeply humanistic ideas of Spinoza concerning the organization of social life, the justification of ideals of equality and freedom will undoubtedly evoke interest in the contemporary reader. His thoughts on forms of governance, the affirmation of the rule of law, and respect for rights still resonate positively today. He advocates for a mode of exercising power wherein people feel they are not being governed, but are merely living according to their views, following their free decisions. To this end, it is necessary to seek measures that correspond to the character of the people and the nature of the place where they live; care must be taken to ensure that subordinates fulfill their duties as if voluntarily, rather than under coercion of the law—that is, to prefer indirect methods of governance over direct ones. One may share with Spinoza his disapproval of excessive enthusiasm for privileges and awards: "Rewards for virtue are given to slaves, not to the free." He is convinced that equality and freedom suffer a fatal blow as soon as someone renowned for their merits receives special honors through state laws. The path to stability for the state lies in the inviolability of properly established laws, and laws are the soul of the state.

Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646-1716) was born in Leipzig to the family of a professor at the local university. It was at this university that he studied from 1661 to 1666, primarily focusing on jurisprudence. He defended his doctoral dissertation at the end of 1666, titled "On Complicated Legal Cases." Leibniz was a polymath. He is a distinguished mathematician, logician, economist, philosopher, and organizer of scholarly societies throughout Europe. Residing primarily in Hanover, Leibniz traveled extensively across the continent, acquainted with Christiaan Huygens and Isaac Newton, and met with Baruch Spinoza and Tsar Peter I of Russia.

The core of Leibniz's philosophy lies in his doctrine of "monads," articulated in a concise work titled "Monadology." A monad is a simple, indivisible substance. Countless such monadic substances exist; they are carriers of force and possess a spiritual essence. Each monad is a unique, singular, self-sufficient unit of being, the cause of itself, and capable of activity. The world of monads is created by God, who Himself is a monad: "Only God is the primary Unity or the original simple substance. All created or derived monads constitute His creation and are born, as it were, from the continuous, time-to-time effulgences of the Deity." A monad is a world unto itself; however, it is a world that reflects the entire order of the universe. The only relationship that exists among monads is harmony. The question of harmony is profoundly significant in Leibniz's philosophy. It serves as a certain inner order of the world of monads, a principle that transcends the isolation of these monads.

Leibniz distinguishes three types of monads, depending on how the entirety of the world is reflected in the simple, singular (i.e., monadic) entity, as each "monad is a constant living mirror of the universe." These are:

1. The lower form, where monads possess only a passive capacity for representation (perception) and can create indistinct representations;
2. The soul monads, which are of a higher order, as they can have clearer representations;
3. The spirit monads, the highest level of monads, which possess the ability of apperception (the awareness of perceptions and representations).

Monads do not possess physical characteristics and cannot be perceived sensibly. Bodies differ according to the types of monads from which they are composed. Inanimate nature consists of first-type monads, while living beings consist of second-type monads, and humans are made up of third-type monads. The formation of aggregates of monads is not arbitrary; it is determined by a "pre-established harmony."

Leibniz’s theory of knowledge is closely linked to the fundamental ideas of monadology. He is a rationalist, yet he approaches sensationalism and the role of sensory experience with caution. Leibniz acknowledges the general thesis of sensationalism, which posits that "there is nothing in the mind that has not first passed through the senses." However, he significantly adds, "except for the mind itself," which should be understood as the presence of innate capacities for thought. Sensory knowledge can only provide "truths of fact," relating to singular phenomena and events. Rational knowledge, on the other hand, yields universal and necessary truths—these are the truths of reason. The first truths pertain to the domain of natural science, while the second truths relate to the realms of logic and mathematics.