Monday, January 24, 2022

The Received Doctrine of the Atonement

 The Received Doctrine of the Atonement

Sean Killackey


For I delivered to you as of first importance what I also received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures. - 1 Corinthians 15:3


“Substitutionary Atonement is an interesting theory. But it is relatively new in Christian thought, not universally agreed to, and is subject to serious objections. It is hardly indispensable to the Gospel.” This is something theology students are bound to hear in classes, read in books, and perhaps come to believe. But despite all the scholarly man-hours that have gone into this thesis it is false.

While there is something to the claim that Substitutionary Atonement was first articulated at the time of the Reformation, it is grossly misleading. Consequently it provides no refuge to those who wish to relative or undermine the doctrine. Rather, a fair study of historical theology reveals that those who profess Substitutionary Atonement find themselves firmly rooted in the Scriptures, proclaiming the same doctrine handed down by the Apostles, which has been taught to every nation under heaven.

In 1617, when Hugo Grotius published his masterful refutation of Faustus Socinus’ attack on the Reformer’s doctrine of the Atonement, he entitled it A Defense of the Catholic Faith Concerning the Satisfaction of Christ. He clearly did not think that he was defending a novel doctrine. So where do contemporary critics get the notion that Substitutionary Atonement finds its origin in the Reformation?

There are some important differences between what the Reformers, such as Calvin and Luther, articulated (let us call that Penal Substitutionary Atonement) and what pre-Reformation theologians, such as Anslem taught. Anselm, for instance, does not view Christ’s suffering as punishment (i.e., suffering inflicted on account of retributive justice) but as the substitute for our punishment that God, in his justice, must receive if he is not to punish sinners according to their deserving. Calvin, however, argues that Christ, in virtue of his union with mankind, voluntarily takes upon himself the liability to punishment we have on account of our sins. He is punished for our sins; we are punished by proxy in him as our substitute. 

Likewise, there are important differences between what Calvin, Luther, and Wesley taught and what others, such as Johnathan Edwards Jr., John Miley, and H. Orton Wiley taught. The latter affirmed what is often called the Moral Governmental Theory of the Atonement. The main idea to this theory, which in some formulations is consistent with the views of Calvin et al., is that God as Ruler of the universe cannot simply forgive sins without Atonement. Doing so would be morally and spiritually ruinous for his creatures. Just think what would happen if the President and every Governor simply pardoned all criminals en masse. Laws would be held in contempt, personal reformation and community wellbeing would suffer. Therefore, it was necessary that Christ should become incarnate, and, sharing our nature, suffer chastisement voluntarily as a substitute for us receiving the punishment we deserve. This renders pardon consistent with God’s justice, for there is a two-fold display of God’s goodness. His hatred of sin is clearly shown, as is his love for us; the former meet the same “governmental ends” as our actually being punished would and the latter draws us to God.

While a systematic articulation of a particular view of Substitutionary Atonement emerged at the time of the Reformation, just as has been the case since then, this hardly warrants the claim that Substitutionary Atonement per se originated in the Reformation. Rather the view of the Reformers and that of Wesley, like those of Edwards and Miley, should be seen as part of a common tradition that predates the Reformation. 

They all belong to the same biblically rooted doctrine of “Vicarious Satisfaction”. Depending on how terms are employed, we can say that Penal Substitutionary Atonement was first articulated (at least systematically) at the time of the Reformation without undermining the catholicity of the Reformer’s doctrine. It is a particular (and depending on who you ask, more biblically accurate) expression of Vicarious Satisfaction. Vicarious Satisfaction - the claim that Christ, by his voluntary suffering and death in our stead, satisfied the Justice of God so that God can be both ‘Just and the Justifier of those who believe’ - is something that Christians have always taught. Disputes on particular theories about how exactly this Atonement works are both interesting and important. But it in no way detracts from the fact that we, as much as the aforementioned theologians, affirm a doctrine common to Christians in every age and land.

The Scriptures plainly teach Vicarious Satisfaction as an integral part of salvation. “But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities.” (Isaiah 53:5) So it comes as no surprise that this claim continued to be central to the proclamation and theology of the Church from the earliest, post-biblical era onward. It should prove edifying to see some instances of this.


Eusebius of Caesarea (AD 260-340): “The Lamb of God . . . was chastised on our behalf, and suffered a penalty He did not owe, but which we owed because of the multitude of our sins; and so He became the cause of forgiveness of our sins.” (Demonstration of the Gospel 10.1)


Athanasius of Alexandria (AD 296-373): “For he did not die as being Himself liable to death: He suffered for us, and bore in Himself the wrath that was the penalty of our transgression, even as Isaiah says, Himself before our weakness.” (Letter to Marcellinus on the Interpretation of the Psalms)


John Chrysostom (AD 347 - 407): “He Himself, through suffering punishment, did away with both the sin and the punishment, and He was punished on the Cross.” (Homilies on Colossians, Homily 6) (347)


Augustine (354 - 430): “Christ, though guiltless, took our punishment, that He might cancel our guilt, and do away with our punishment.” (Against Faustus 14.4)


Given the wealth of such fine teaching, I feel like the Apostle who says, “And what more shall I say? For time would fail me!” But, I wish to conclude by comparing a brief summary given by the late Methodist theologian Thomas Oden with a brief summary of a key idea that Athanasius of Alexandria articulates in On the Incarnation of the Word (7.1-9.5). Oden writes: “The heart of atonement teaching is: Christ suffered in our place to satisfy the requirements of the holiness of God, so as to remove the obstacle to the pardon and reconciliation of the guilty. What the holiness of God required, the love of God provided in the cross.” (Classic Christianity, p. 403)

Athanasius argues that in virtue of the sentence of death imposed for sin by God death has acquired, as it were, a legal hold upon the human race. It would be monstrous for the just and true God to fail to uphold his sentence. Yet, it also would be unthinkable for the good and merciful God to simply let the human race suffer universal destruction. Therefore, to uphold the divine consistency it was necessary for the Word of the Father to fulfill in himself the very sentence of death pronounced upon sin to free us from it. So that is what Christ did.

Whoever can affirm these teachings, whether he be a fourth century bishop or a twenty-first century layman, has gotten ahold of something of “first importance” indeed! It was passed down to us by those of former times. It therefore behooves us to guard this sound doctrine, to deliver it to others in turn, so that the apostolic preaching of the Cross shall not cease as long as the world endures.


Sunday, December 27, 2020

In Defense of Penal Substitutionary Atonement

I will be responding to this blog post: https://blogs.ancientfaith.com/morningoffering/2017/07/heresy-penal-substitution-2/

PSA = the doctrine of Penal Substitutionary Atonement
The heretical doctrine of penal substitution was completely absent from the Church for over 1,000 years, and was only introduced by Anselm of Canterbury in the eleventh century.
It is one thing to say that every modern permutation of PSA was absent among early Christians, but another thing to say that PSA was completely absent. Do not both Cyril of Alexandria and Athanasius see death as God's just sentence upon us, which he could not simply repeal lest he prove untrue to his just decree? Further, do not they say that God's goodness would not suffer death's dominion to remain? And do they not reconcile God's justice, truth, and goodness in this way: in saying that Christ came and died, bearing the wrath and punishment that was our due? In this way Christ fulfilled the legal sentence of death pronounced by God and thereby repealing it.

Does not Athanasius say: 
"And Psalms 88 and 69, again speaking in the Lord’s own person, tell us further that He suffered these things, not for His own sake but for ours. Thou has made Thy wrath to rest upon me, says the one; and the other adds, I paid them things I never took. For He did not die as being Himself liable to death: He suffered for us, and bore in Himself the wrath that was the penalty of our transgression, even as Isaiah says, Himself bore our weaknesses." (Letter to Marcellinus)

This, I think, shows that something suspiciously like PSA was present even in early times; which is not surprising, since Scripture teaches it. 

The major problem with this teaching can be seen in the fact that had Christ died for our sins against God the Father, thus causing a division of God, with the doctrine of the Holy Trinity laid waste, with God pitted against God.”

The objection seems to be that PSA makes the Father to be hostile to the Son, which could never happen given their perfect unity.


But this objection is readily answered. For, it is not that the Father ever hated his Beloved Son. Rather, the Father declared His Son legally guilty when he imputed our sins to him. And the Son was punished for our sins in his human nature, in his body and his soul. But in this both the Father and the Son willed in perfect unity. Therefore, there is neither disunity nor any hatred within the Trinity on PSA. That is, this objection fails.

“This heretical doctrine divides God by implying that Christ isn’t fully God.”

Since it is part of PSA that only one who is both truly God and truly man could pay for our sins, this would be an important objection - that is, if it can be established. But, it cannot be. It seems that it presupposes the previous objection, since, if there were disunity within the Trinity (such as if the Father ceased to love the Son), then the Son would not be fully God, since there cannot ever fail to be unity between those who are fully God. But since we have shown that PSA does not imply any disunity within the Trinity or any animosity between the Father or the Son, this objection does not work.


“It also suggests that there is a higher force than God, thus making, God Himself ruled by a “higher force”. In other words, God has no choice but to punish. By this notion, justice forces God to respond to our sin with His wrath, with love becoming secondary.”


Interestingly, not all proponents of PSA (such as Hugo Grotius) think that the Father has to punish the Son for our sins in order to pardon us, but that this was the most fitting way to forgive us. 


Moreover, even for those who say that God did have to do this the objection poses no problem. For it is in virtue of the Divine Nature of the Father that he must punish our sins: because God is just. This is not something external to the Trinity, but it is in virtue of their Divine Nature that they must see sin punished. 


It is not clear why it would be a problem if God’s love was secondary (in what sense?) to God’s justice. So this part of the objection does not so much as get off the ground. Moreover, it is not stated how God’s love is made secondary to his justice if God must punish sin. PSA, I think, does not commit one to saying that this is the case, for God, out of his love, has freed us from liability to punishment for our sins, since the Son has willingly borne them on our part.


“A close examination of the prophets and the Psalms of David, reveal that the word “justice” is linked to the concept of “mercy.” Justice is not penal in nature, but refers to a show of kindness and deliverance to those who are suffering oppression. It means that God’s justice destroys our oppressors, which in this case is sin, death, and even the power of Satan’s oppression.”


A close examination of Scripture will show that God’s justice is essentially retributive. This is seen in the Mosaic Law, in the Psalms, and in the Prophets. This is not to say that our author is entirely wrong, but that he implies a false dichotomy: God’s justice is either retributive or it is something else. It can be both. God, in giving what, say, David’s enemies deserve (retribution) may also save David and free him from oppression.


As a matter of fact, that Christ’s sufferings are penal in nature is made clear in Isaiah 53. Moreover, that he is punished in our stead frees us from God’s wrath insofar as we are united to Christ, as John’s Gospel makes clear. And thus being made God’s sons, we are freed from the dark spiritual forces, sin, and death.


This last point brings up an important point. PSA is not an exhaustive theory of how we are saved or the entire work of Christ. PSA is consistent with certain articulations of Christus Victor and Moral Governance theory (to name just two).


“To look upon propitiation in the classical pagan sense, we are forced to view our God as some sort of angry deity needing to be appeased by a blood sacrifice. This is completely different than the Old Testament view of a loving God whose Mercy Seat covered the Ark of the Covenant, which contained the ten commandments. While the law given to us by God demanded perfection and revealed our shortcomings, the Mercy Seat covered our failure to live up to the Ten Commandments.”


PSA does not take its cue from paganism. Rather, it takes into account Scripture. Note, too, that Scripture clearly says that Christ is a sacrifice. He is also the priest who offers up this sacrifice, and he offers it up to the Father. He is called a propitiatory sacrifice by John. He is said to bear our sins in his body. The punishment for our peace was upon him. In this way God can justly be favorable toward us.


All of this was foreshadowed in the Mosaic Law, in which “there was no forgiveness without the shedding of blood”. And these were efficacious insofar as they pointed toward Christ. It was by means of these sacrifices, as by types pointing toward Christ, that the thrice holy God would dwell with Israel.


“The Western churches would have us believe that God was angry over our sins, but the death of His Son caused Him to change His mind, and decide to love us. Yet the Scriptures tell us God is love (1 Jn 4:8, 16) from the very beginning, and is unchanging (Mal 3:6) and doesn’t change His mind (Num 23:19).”


To be sure some proponents of penal substitution will have a problem overcoming this objection, but this is not true across the board. It is poor form, therefore, not to acknowledge that most proponents of PSA have also held that God is timeless and unchanging.


Also, PSA does not say that God first hates us and then, after Christ died, decides to love us. PSA, rather, says that since God loves us (whether we take this to mean all humans or only the elect) he predestined Christ to die for their sins.

Thursday, February 6, 2020

Two Argument for Isaianic Authorship and Other Remarks

Seventh, there are references to idolatry in so-called “Second” Isaiah. Critics believe that “Second” Isaiah was either written in Babylon or late-dated in Israel after the return from exile. If “Second” Isaiah was written after the exile, then we wouldn’t expect him to denounce idolatry so much in his writing (Isa. 44:9-20; 57:4-5, 7; 65:2-4). The post-exilic prophets never mention idolatry as a sin after the exile (e.g. Haggai, Zechariah, Malachi, Ezra, and Nehemiah). This means that his denunciation of idolatry would make no sense after exile, but it would make perfect sense before it. 
Source:



Sunday, October 27, 2019

The Last Word (Chapter Four)

The Last Word (Chapter Four)

This chapter serves to reiterate the sort of points Nagel has been making in previous chapters about the reality and extent of reason and to serve as a segue into further chapters, which explore what role, if any, reason has in science and ethics. The focus of this chapter is on defending the objectivity of logic and mathematics, which is a natural place to start, since they reveal the sort of principles for discovering what is part of reason (i.e., what is objective) that he will employ in other domains of thought (p. 55). Nagel is going to argue that the content of certain logical truths is such that to grasp them is to see that they must be necessarily true, and that this credibility cannot be overturned. Moreover, many of these principles or forms of thought have to be presupposed in any attempt to reject or relativize them or other ostensibly cases of objectively valid thought.

Section I & II
In this section, Nagel makes the point that total skepticism can only get off the ground if it adequately deals with the content of our logical or mathematical thoughts. But this it cannot do. "The simplest of such thoughts are immune to doubt," says Nagel (p. 55). For instance, to grasp what the claim that 2+2=4 amounts to, or what the form of modus tollens is, leads us to recognize that they are necessarily true and universally valid thoughts (pp. 55, 56).

In case of less fundamental mathematical or logical thoughts, Nagel readily acknowledges that these may be false (p. 57; cf. pp. 63, 64). However, this does nothing to support total skepticism. First, we must rely upon simpler logical and mathematical thoughts to ascertain that we are in error. Secon, when we ascertain that, we then have to form what we take to be a true description of what is actually going on. Part of that involves coming to understand how, given the content of the thought whose truth we are now skeptical of, we were or could be wrong. The lesson here is twofold. This whole process requires we take an internal view point: "Skepticism cannot be produced entirely from the 'outside'," Nagel says. Also, we can't automatically side with skeptical (and hence relativist) challenges (pp. 58, 59). Put another way, total skepticism is impossible and merely to offer an external viewpoint from which we can describe our, say, ethical thought doesn't give us reason to think that such thoughts are wrong or subjective.

Section II elaborates on this point - that the skeptic, insofar as his skepticism can get under way, reveals "his unshakeable attachment to first-order logical thought" (p. 60). He picks up a point he made in chapter two (p. 19).

Section III
So far, Nagel has been refuting total skepticism. Now, he explicitly applies the lessons learned to relativism. This move is justified because the relativist is a kind of skeptic about logic; the universal relativist parallels the total skeptic (who is skeptical of logic).

Traditional skepticism presupposes logic insofar as it makes it appeal by way of argument: all the evidence we have is as consistent with the notion that the universe came into being five minutes ago or billions of years ago, hence we can't believe one over the other (pp. 62, 63).

Total skepticism, since it is skeptical about logic, is not like this. Reason cannot be used to argue that 2+2 might equal 5, or that contraposition might not be a valid logical form, since these truths disclose themselves in such a way that makes it impossible to doubt them, and in any case we will often need them to formulate our skepticism of them, which defeats the attempt at skepticism (p. 63)

Given that these thoughts are indubitable - since their content reveals them to be objectively true and universally applicable - these thoughts resist not just skeptical assaults but "relativistic, anthropological, or 'pragmatic' interpretation" (p. 64). Note well how Nagel shows that these sorts of simple logical and mathematical thoughts have their power in virtue of their content (i.e., as known from an internal viewpoint) not in virtue of anything else (cf. p. 48). Hence, he writes, "Thought itself has priority over its descriptions, because it its description necessary involves thought." (p. 65) This extends to thoughts about the contingency of our make up as thinking beings: these must be based in experience and examined by first-order reasoning (pp. 65, 66); recall, too, that any serious attempt to describe thought from an external vantage point (from which one might try to relativize it) aims to be objective, which nullifies the total subjectivist agenda.

Section IV
In this section, Nagel advances his thesis, previously stated, that often enough relativistic interpretations of thought will be inconsistent with the content of the thought that one is trying to relativize (p. 29). The subjectivist might suggest that he is not saying that we should, say, speak of contraposition differently, but rather is giving us an account of what it means for us to speak of it as we do. He may say that our claim "it is a valid logical form even if we didn't say so" follows from our claim "it is valid" and that it is valid because "we are all prepared to say" that it is (p. 66). We've already seen Nagel speak on this point: if 'objectivity' depend on consensus it is contradictory to say that it extends to what would hold regardless of that consensus (p. 30). Here he also notes that there are "thoughts that are completely free of first-person content" and hence can't be interpreted "in a personal or communal form" (p. 67). Hence, this subjectivist interpretation of our thoughts contradicts itself and the content of (at least many of) the thoughts it aims to interpret.

Nagel also states something important about his conception of reason: reason operates in this region of impersonal thoughts. It's methods are impersonal or objective, and by means of these principles it can reason to further impersonal thoughts. Hence, reason is not limited merely to a set of first principles and forms of thought, but "in any forms of thought to which there is no alternative" (i.e., no way to regard as subjective) (pp. 68, 69). Whether ethics or science are forms of thought to which there are no alternatives is something we will consider in the next two chapters of this book.

Section V
Nagel finds the capacity of reason strange: particular individuals engage in it and it permits them access to what is universally or objectively the case. How is this possible? To see how this paradox can be solved, Nagel looks at our finite practice of counting, which he considers "a paradigm of the way reason allows us to reach vastly beyond ourselves" (p. 71).

Knowledge of the infinity of natural numbers doesn't arise simply out of the ability to use numbers in just any way: for example, if we all we did was designate a fixed number of stages. No, it is in counting that we recognize that the "numbers we use to count things in everyday life are merely the first part of a series that never ends". Once we can count, we see that this procedure has no limit (pp. 70, 71). It is within the practice that we see, in virtue of its incompleteness, that the natural numbers must be infinitely many. Looking at our practice of counting from the outside we can't see its incompleteness and so might be tempted to reduce "the apparently infinite to the finite" if we suppose that the external has priority over the internal. After all, we can only ever observe it in limited cases: we never count up to infinity. But clearly, we do know - from the internal point of view, as we count - that the natural numbers are infinitely many. And this infinitude can't be grounded in merely our contingent practice of counting: it is objectively the case that there are infinitely many natural numbers (pp. 71, 72).

Section VI
In this closing section, Nagel makes several important points. Any understanding of ourselves in the world cannot get rid of the fact that we form this understanding, so it cannot get rid of the internal point of view; so, to continue the case of counting, any adequate description of it must include what it is for us to count (i.e., from the inside), and hence it "must include the relation of that activity to the infinite series of natural numbers," a series that our particular exercise of arithmetical reasoning makes clear to us (p. 72).

A purely external view point will fail to capture these things, instantly falsifying it, even as behavioristic philosophies of mind (which offer a purely external view of the mind) fail because there are elements of mind that cannot be reduced to behavior (p. 73).

The sort of completely external vantage point that total subjectivism requires is impossible, because it "is inconsistent with what we know - for example that there are infinitely many natural numbers" (p. 74). Still, it would be good if we could form some kind of external view of ourselves which is at least consistent with us having the thoughts we have (p. 74). Such a view, says Nagel, must describe our capacity to think things like simple logical or mathematical truths "in a way that presupposes their independent validity". Nagel rejects an evolutionary naturalist answer to this question, though, he postpones discussion of it until chapter seven. He mentions and then briefly objects to the theistic answer: our finite minds and the cosmos were made for each other (p. 75). He suspects that this might be a God-of-the-gaps explanation; obviously, I disagree. He also suspects that, given the nature of our capacity for reason, we will not be able to explain them by employing them (p. 76). I want to note that we don't need to explain how reason works for Nagel's self-styled rationalist thesis to go through. That reason is objective is evident even if we can't see how it can be.

Thursday, October 17, 2019

The Last Word (Chapter Three)

The Last Word (Chapter Three)

Nagel makes two important points in this chapter. First, shows that thought is prior to language so that one cannot reduce human thought to contingent linguistic practice. Second, he shows that no naturalistic explanation of language can succeed insofar as language is a vehicle for thought and reasoning; on this front he focuses on the impossibility of grounding the intentional in the nonintentional, the meaningful in the nonmeaningful, and the normative in the nonnormative.

Section I
Nagel rejects the notion "that the social phenomenon of language is at the bottom of everything": that linguistic practice explains what our thoughts mean and what is true. First, there are plenty of cases, such as in philosophy, "where thought is often nonlinguistic and expression comes later" (p. 38). Second, we can have thoughts that are necessarily true, such as thoughts about logic, which cannot be explained because of our contingent linguistic practices (p. 39). He takes this to show that language is a tool to express thought, as diagrams can express geometric propositions, or notion can be used to express mathematical claims generally, but "is not the material out of which thoughts are made" (p. 38).

This isn't to deny contingency in language: spelling, grammar, and usage are relative to the agreement of the linguistic community. Nor does he deny that consensus among a linguistic community can determine the extension of some concepts (pp. 39, 40). But this all fall shorts of the relativist thesis that would make thought and truth dependent on language. That "and" is the English word for conjunction is a contingent matter which has no bearing on the truth of the claim p and q implies p. What exactly counts as humorous may be decided by a linguistic community, but what add two means is not dependent on such consensus (p. 40). 

Section II
Using Wittgenstein as a framework, Nagel then proceeds to discuss the impossibility of giving a naturalistic account of intentionality or meaning.[1] He says, "Thinking cannot be identified with putting marks on paper, or making noises, or manipulating objects, or even having images in one's mind - however much contextual detail (including community practice) is added to such an account." (p. 41). Such empirically discoverable details "cannot possibly explain what it is for words to have meaning" (p. 42).

Intentionality cannot be explained by the unintentional. Since language (which expresses thought) is intentional, one cannot give an external, non-linguistic analysis of it (i.e., a naturalistic account of it). (p. 42) The thought is more fundamental than any facts about the sounds I emit, the mental pictures I have, and so forth. My thought add two doesn't get its meaning from what I do (say put two rocks together) or a mental image I might form (of me pushing two rocks together) or my saying, "I'm doing addition." They don't suffice to fix the content of my thought and in fact have whatever meaning they have in virtue of me having that thought and acting on it: intentionality is unavoidable, and the intentional content of thought is primary, not something from which we could escape and get an external view point that could get us to call it into question.

Wittgenstein is right, Nagel says, in affirming "that no natural fact about me makes it true that I mean something" (p. 43). Why? He is a finite being, so any, say, behavior or physiological facts about him will be finite in number. However, the mathematical function of addition has "infinite normative implications". Behavioral evidence about me will only extend, say, to my computing integers lower than 10^N, so you can't determine that I am doing addition as opposed to some function indistinguishable from it when the integers are below 10^(N+1); call this function quaddition. (pp. 43, 44). Every sort of natural fact we could gather together would be indeterminate in this respect.

Nagel notes that, because of this, philosophers like Kripke will simply conclude that I don't mean anything (or at least determinately mean addition) when I say "plus" and that this conclusions holds for every word I use. Of course, Nagel finds this ludicrous. "We would be left without the possibility of formulating the argument for the paradoxical conclusion" (p. 44). We will still have to meaningfully use words to formulate the argument and Kripke's conclusion, for instance.

Hence, there must be some fact as to what what we mean by using some (many, most) of our words, even if we can't ground the fact that we mean such-and-such by them in natural facts about ourselves. At the end of the day, we have thoughts which we can express meaningfully and this is not something which we can explain in a nonintentional way (p. 45).

At this point, Nagel introduces the problem with grounding meaningful thoughts in natural facts in a different way: "the gap between the nonnormative and the normative". Meaning, he says, entails the difference between right and wrong answers or applications, but behavioral, dispositional, or experiential facts have no such meanings. (p. 45). (Answering "5" is an incorrect answer to the problem 2+2=?; but being inclined to jump when startled is not a wrong response to being startled; so if answering "5" or "6" to that arithmetical question is just a natural response, some deep disposition we follow blindly, it can no more be wrong than jumping when startled is.)

Nagel also dismisses "the move from the terrain of truth conditions to the terrain of assertability conditions" as misguided (p. 46). By "assertibility conditions" Nagel refers to the idea that, given our linguistic practice, we are warranted to ascribe some concept to someone who seems to apply it according to common practice in finitely many cases. So, we can say that, given you answer "4" to "2+2=?" and "9" to "2+7=?", etc., you possess the concept of addition.

Two problems face this view. First, that you conform to what we all see as addition is not what it means for you to have that concept; that you have that concept (as do we) explains why you behave accordingly. Second, as noted by Nagel, what is true is not coterminous with what is assertable. Hence, you could possess a concept even if your behavior doesn't express that concept in a way observable by us. But then concept possession (and hence having thoughts whose meanings are expressible through language) is not defined by such finitely many warrantability conditions; this fails as much as the attempt to ground meaning in finitely many naturalistic truth conditions (pp. 46, 47).

Nagel closes this second section with some remarks from P. F. Strawson. Part of the quotation from Stawson provided by Nagel reads: "we do not merely experience compulsions, merely find it natural to say, in general what (we can observe that) others say too . . . rather, we understand the meaning of what we say" (p. 47). We see the meaning; thus that meaning, content, or intentionality is irreducible and not dependent on behavior, environment, etc.

Section III
Nagel begins this section by examining what Wittgenstein says about following rules. Wittgenstein seems to say that whether I follow some rule ultimately comes down to the sheer fact that I happen to act that way: "I obey the rule blindly," he says (pp. 47, 48). Nagel glossess this as: "what I am doing when I add, for example, is that I am simply producing responses which are natural to me" and unavoidable in the situation in which I find myself. To say this is what is going on when I follow a rule, such as found in addition, is to take an external view about myself, "to get outside of my arithmetical thoughts" in a way that negates the content of my thoughts (pp. 48, 49).

That external view ends all justification and grounds all meaning in a contingent fact about me (how I'd respond to stimuli), whereas Nagel would say that what makes it the case that I am doing addition is just that I grasp what addition is, so know how to apply it, and act on that knowledge: an internal view (that ends justification in the content of the concept I grasp, addition). (pp. 48, 49). 

This case, I think, well highlights the problems that follow from trying to explain how I can have thoughts in general (mean anything) or mean addition when I say "plus" in particular (pp. 49, 50). You cannot explain the intentional in terms of the nonintentional, nor ground the infinite in the finite. More on this last point presently.

Nagel believes "that our linguistic practices reach 'beyond themselves'": our possession of the concept addition, which as infinitely many implications and possible cases to which it applies, is independent of our everyday application of the word "addition" (to finitely many cases) and undergirds it.[2] Our acting in ways that our linguistic community call "adding" is not what it means for me to mean addition nor does it ground my possession of the concept addition: that I have it is because I can simply see what addition means (an explanation internal to arithmetical thought). The external view of arithmetical language will never show what I mean by the things I say or do; it can't ground the meaning or extension of addition. However, as soon as I look at things from the inside, things become clear (p. 51). 

That we mean addition, with its infinite scope, cannot be established from an external view. It cannot be ground in the fact that, from the perspective of our linguistic community we follow some rule (p. 52). Rather, "the rule-following practices of our linguistic community can be understood only through the substantive content of our thoughts" (p. 53). To generalize: the meaning of words (and rules about when to use them) may be ground in linguistic consensus, but the meanings of our thoughts expressible through language is not.

[1] A lot of what Nagel says here fits in nicely with what Feser says here.

[2] To possess the concept addition is not merely the disposition to give the correct verbal answered to certain questions; possession of the concept addition in those who have it undergirds such answered, but the concept is of far greater scope than its application to particular instances.

Monday, October 14, 2019

The Last Word (Chapter Two) (pt. 2)

The Last Word (Chapter Two) (pt. 2)

Nagel makes two significant points in this chapter. First, he decisively refutes total skepticism and universal subjectivism, the latter of which is the target of his book. Second, he sketches out the method by which he will defend particular domains of thought against relativist challenges (we considered these in pt. 1). Along the way, he responds to certain subjectivist views and answers some objections (we will look at these now). 

He considers two subjectivist proposals: (1) reason as consensus, (2) reason as the outer edge of a contingent conceptual framework. Let's look at these in turn.


Certain philosophers regard ostensibly objective reason as merely those beliefs and forms of thought upon which certain groups of people are subjectively persuaded. Nagel quotes Sabina Lovibond to this effect: "the objectivity of an assertion or an argument is always at the same time something of which human beings (those human beings who call it 'objectively valid') are subjectively persuaded" (p. 28). Likewise, he notes others reject the idea that there is a reality beyond that about which there is consensus among a linguistic community (p. 28).

He responds to this position by noting that it is often "inconsistent with the very consensus on which they propose to 'ground' objectivity" (p. 29). For example, when mathematicians agree on certain claims they agree that they are true full stop (i.e., in an unqualified way) and would be true even if they did not agree on their truth. Hence what is agreed to is that X is objectively true (apart from such agreement). This reveals an important fact: consensus about, say, the Law of Noncontradiction is grounded in the objectivity of the proposition as disclosed by its content. Reason-as-consensus gets things backwards (p. 31). 

In case why the actual nature of consensus is a problem from the reason-as-consensus view is unclear, recall that that thesis is claiming that there is nothing more to truth or objectivity than that some group of people agree to it. But we find that about a whole range of items people agree that they are objectively true whether or not anyone agreed to them, and that there are additional objective truths which we don't yet know and might never know. This can no more be fit into the reason-as-consensus view as can the statement "the laws of my community specify that not everything that is wrong is illegal" be fit into a view that says "there is nothing more to wrongness than being contrary to the laws of my community" (p. 30).

The second subjectivist proposal he examines is that which views reason (the objective framework of thought) as relative to one's conceptual scheme; that is, reason are the aspects of thought within our conceptual scheme we have to regard as objective. From here this position stipulates that we can imagine thinking beings with different conceptual frameworks such that what is 'objective' in ours is not in theirs and vice versa; the end result of this is that nothing is absolutely objective, but only 'objective' given a certain conceptual scheme (p. 31).

Nagel's response to this is to double down on the fact that there are certain thoughts we cannot get outside of, even in the attempt to formulate this sort of scenario (p. 32); if we reject the truth or objectivity of these, we cannot even formulate this proposal. Further, we cannot regard our commitment to the objectivity of some of our thoughts and ways of thinking (say, simple logical truths) as merely a phenomenological fact about ourselves. If we are persuaded that they are objectively true (and how can we avoid being persuaded of the truth of the LNC?) we can't at the same time suppose that they are not objectively and universally valid. This conceptual-scheme-relative notion of reason would ask us to do just that. But "this is merely an instance of the impossibility of thinking 'It is true that I believe that p; but that is just a psychological fact about me; about the truth of p itself, I remain uncommitted' " (p. 32).

As I see it, Nagel responds to three objections to his claims. Let us say a brief word on these. 

"This response to subjectivism [that we must adjudicate it by reason] may appear to be simply question-begging." (p. 24)

Recall, his strategy is to return to reason. Since reason is what is being challenged, is it question-beginning to return to it and presuppose its objective validity? He answers that it is not, since the subjectivist is giving us a proposal about how things actually are, and must supply reasons. Hence the defense of reason by reason is mandated by the challenge itself (pp. 24, 25).

Nagel considers two similar objections (objections similar to each other, not to the one just described). The first is that our commitment to the objectivity of some of our beliefs and forms of thought is just a psychological fact about us (p. 16). The second is that, while their subjectivity cannot be said, shows itself in the way in which all argument and reason comes to an end, in judgments we find compelling (p. 33). Both of these objections concede that we simply can't help but think that reason's authority is independent of us (that some of our beliefs and forms of thought are universally valid). They differ in only the way they handle this fact. 

The first objection attempts to rebuff the conclusion that reason's authority is independent of our belief in its authority. The objective validity of reason is just an appearance and not part of reality. But the problem is that we can only make the division between what is real and what is a mere appearance if we have principles and methods of thinking that are true and universally valid (pp. 16, 17). I'd also add that this objection does nothing to undercut the criticism Nagel has made against general subjectivism, nor has it made any attempt to be rationally compelling; the same goes for all the subjectivist proposals and objections Nagel considers in this chapter.

The second objection goes like this, "Why doesn't that show only that we cannot say logic, for example, or ethics, is rooted in our natural, unquestioned practices, but that this nevertheless shows itself in the way in which arguments and justification come to an end, in judgments on which we naturally agree?" (p. 33) Afterall, we are talking about "our arguments, our thoughts, our reasoning" (p. 33). This objection parallels Wittgenstein's claim that the truth of solipsism can't be stated (since it is false in my language game) but is shown in the fact that however I talk about the world it will always be in my language game (pp. 33, 34).

The subjectivist presses their case because all justification seems to end in principles or forms of thought that we (individually or collectively) hold. However, this doesn't show that these principles have their authority because we treat them as such; in which case we or our recognition of these principles or forms of thought would have the last word (as the subjectivist says). That argument and justification comes to an end in our thinking (individually or collectively) doesn't mean that our thinking has the last word (and not the principles and forms of thought themselves). Rather, these principles or forms of thought or justifications must have the last word; even to recognize that argument and justification take place in our thinking and the attempt to derive some subjectivist conclusion from that must employ argument and justification in a way that shows their authority to be independent of the fact that we think them (p. 34).

"Why doesn't that show only that we cannot say logic, for example, or ethics, is rooted in our natural, unquestioned practices, but that this nevertheless shows itself in the way in which arguments and justification come to an end, in judgments on which we naturally agree?" (p. 33) Afterall, we are talking about "our arguments, our thoughts, our reasoning" (p. 33). This objective parallels Wittgenstein's claim that the truth of solipsism can't be stated (since it is false in my language game) but is shown in the fact that however I talk about the world it will always be in my language game (pp. 33, 34).

The subjectivist presses their case because all justification seems to end in principles or forms of thought that we (individually or collectively hold). However, this doesn't show that these principles have their authority because we treat them as such; in which case we or our recognition of these principles or forms of thought would have the last word. That argument and justification comes to an end in our thinking (individually or collectively) doesn't mean that our thinking has the last word (and not the principles and forms of thought themselves). Rather, these principles or forms of thought or justifications must have the last word; even to recognize that argument and justification take place in our thinking and the attempt to derive some subjectivist conclusion from that must employ argument and justification in a way that shows their authority to be independent of the fact that we think them (p. 34).

Nagel notes the fact that prevents an immediate inference from 'we think these thoughts' to 'our thinking them / we who think them have the last word' when he says, "If there were nonsubjective thoughts, someone would still have to think them. So the formula that simply notes this cannot be used to demonstrate that everything is based on our responses. A tautology with which all parties to a dispute must agree on cannot show that one of them is right" (p. 35). 

I think you can see that Nagel does an excellent job rebutting general subjectivism and charting a path for refuting it in particular domains of thought. We will see if he succeeds in the latter endeavour when we come to later chapters.

The Last Word (Chapter Two) (pt. 1)

The Last Word (Chapter Two) (pt. 1)

Nagel makes two significant points in this chapter. First, he decisively refutes total skepticism and universal subjectivism, the latter of which is the target of his book. Second, he sketches out the method by which he will defend particular domains of thought against relativist challenges. Along the way, he responds to certain subjectivist views and answers some objections (we will consider these in pt. 2).

At the beginning of the chapter, Nagel connects subjectivism with understanding thought from the outside. Being self-aware enough to entertain the idea that some of our beliefs might be the product of rationalization is an example of understanding (some) thoughts from the outside (i.e., outside of the content of the thoughts in question) (p. 13, 14).  It should be clear why subjectivism and understanding thought from the outside go together: the subjectivist must use such an external vantage point (viewing our thoughts as cultural artifacts, expressions peculiar to our psychology, etc.) in order to challenge the ostensible objectivity of our thoughts.

He immediately notes that this procedure of viewing thought from the outside has inherent limits. It is one thing to view certain thoughts from this external vantage point and even challenge their truth or objectivity, but another to to do this for all thought. In the former case we must rely on the truth and objectivity of certain principles and forms of thought and our conclusion aspires to describe how reality (and our relationship to it) actually is. Taking an external vantage point for all thought and concluding that this shows all of our thoughts to be subjective simply can't be done, for it has undermined its own foundation and what it purports to be is just an instance of the sort of thing that it denies is possible (p. 14)

Nagel apty states, "We cannot criticize some of our own claims of reason without employing reason at some other point to formulate and support those criticisms" (p. 15). He also shows this again in connection with Descartes' skepticism. Again, aptly stated, "Skepticism that is the product of an argument cannot be total," and skepticism that is not the product of an argument is worth nothing (p. 19).

So, even in the attempt to cast doubt on all belief or to relativize all belief we run up against some thoughts which we have to take as objectively true, and within which, or from which, all reasoning must take place. Thus, reason is defended! However, for all this we've not shown much about the content of reason: it "may be quite rich . . . or it may be very austere, limited to principles of logic and not much more" (p. 17). How can we find out which of these alternatives is true? The only way to find out is to scrutinize what we belief, why we hold these beliefs, and see what beliefs or forms of thought resist being relativized (p. 17). Moreover, we need to drop the notion that objectively true beliefs will be certain; they may be, or may be probable but the key factor that we should emphasize is that they aspire to universality (p. 18).


He also lays out principles for us to follow in this task, such as "one can't criticize the more fundamental with the less fundamental" (p. 21). You can't displace logic or arithmetic with anthropology or sociology (p. 22). Part of the reason is that these disciplines presuppose the objectivist of at least some logical and mathematical thoughts. But, as he makes clearer in later chapters, part of the reason is that the content of some of our, say, ethical or mathematical thoughts will just repudiate any attempt to relativize them. These forms of thought reveal their objectivity in virtue of their content and unavoidability (p. 24,26); think of the law of non-contradiction. Thus, we may still have good reason to take these principles and forms of thought as objective even if we are given some external criticism of them. Part of the reason for this, is that we must always ask if such a proposed external explanation of those beliefs makes it reasonable to reject or relativize those, say, ethical beliefs. But this will require that we go back to ethics and work out the answer to that question within ethics (p. 21). Again, he will say more on this in future chapters, so let this suffice for now.