Kant and Hegel on Teleology and Life
from the Perspective of Debates about Free Will
James Kreines
Forthcoming 2012 in
The Freedom of Life, edited by Thomas Khurana, a third volume
in the Freiheit und
Gesetz series.
Please cite the final version from there; this is a late draft:
****
Kant’s treatment of teleology and life in the
Critique of the Power of Judgment
is complicated and difficult to interpret; Hegel’s response adds
considerable complexity. One of Kant’s central claims is that we can never
know whether anything natural is truly explicable in teleological terms.
Hegel responds by arguing that Kant’s own analysis should have led him to
deny that skepticism, and to affirm teleological explanation of natural
living beings. But many of the views attributed to Kant by interpreters fail
to cohere with or support his skepticism. And without an understanding of
Kant’s argument for the skeptical part of his view, there is little hope of
understanding Hegel’s response.
My aim here is to propose a new way of understanding
the underlying philosophical issues in this debate, allowing a new
appreciation of the basic structure of the arguments on both sides. My new
way is unusual: I use for an interpretive lens some formal features of
familiar debates about freedom of the will. These debates, I argue, allow a
better understanding of the underlying structure of a great many
philosophical issues. But I do not aim to interpret what Kant or Hegel has
to say about freedom of the will. The idea is rather to use the interpretive
lens of free will debates to better understand the philosophical issues at
stake in their disagreement concerning teleology and life. This will clarify
the precise philosophical burden that must be met by Kant’s argument in
defense of his skepticism, and why his case has considerable philosophical
force. But it will also explain why Kant’s argument itself inevitably
provides the opening for Hegel’s reply, and sets a standard that Hegel will
meet in a surprising way. Finally, this approach will show that the
arguments in both Kant and Hegel retain significant philosophical force and
importance, regardless of their ignorance of the intervening years of such
great progress in the biological sciences. So by looking to Kant and Hegel
we can better understand the structure of underlying philosophical terrain
of the issues concerning teleology and life—terrain we are still fighting
over today.
1. The Usefulness of Debates about Freedom of the Will
In debates about freedom of the will, the libertarian
position is comprised of two claims. The first is incompatibilism: freedom
of the will is not compatible with determinism. The second is that we have
free will. Duns Scotus is often cited as an historical example of a
libertarian. But what is the alternative to libertarianism? It can seem that
compatibilism is the alternative, as for example in Hume.
But care is needed to guard against a mistake here.
Imagine a compatibilist were to decisively prove that determinism is true.
This would, to be sure, refute the libertarian view. And so we might be
tempted to think that it would support compatibilism. But it would neither
directly tell against incompatibilism, nor directly support compatibilism.
For it would in itself leave entirely open the possibility of retaining
incompatibilism and drawing the conclusion that we are not free—or the “hard
determinist” conclusion. If we neglect that alternative, then we can easily
misunderstand what sorts of arguments really support or undermine which
positions.
To guard against the mistake, we need only recognize
that this debate engages at once two orthogonal issues, or issues along two
dimensions. The issue at stake along the first dimension is broader than
just the question of whether free will is compatible with determinism. The
fundamental issue is: what is free
will? Or: what would have to be
the case for there to be free will? The broadest issue fundamentally at
stake along the second dimension of debate is this:
is there any such thing as free will?
Or, in terms of our more narrow concern:
do we have free will? With respect
to the question of whether we have free will, the most obvious possible
answers are “yes” and “no.” I will call these “optimism” and “pessimism”
(although the latter need not be pessimistic in any other sense than denying
free will—some may argue that this is a happy and welcome conclusion). With
respect to the first question—what is free will?—there are more and less
inflationary or deflationary
views. Compare incompatibilism and compatibilism, for example.
Incompatibilists hold that, for my will to be free I must be able to will
without being caused or determined by anything prior. Compatibilists hold
that free will includes no such demanding requirement. So compatibilism is a
deflationary view in the sense of holding that
less is required for free will.
Incompatibilism is inflationary by comparison:
Do
we have free will?
|
|
What is free will?
|
|
ç Inflationary
|
Deflationary
è
|
Optimism
(Yes)
|
(A) Optimistic inflationism, e.g. libertarianism
|
(B) Optimistic deflationism, e.g. compatibilism
|
Pessimism
(No)
¯
|
(C) Pessimistic inflationism, e.g. hard determinism
|
|
This basic scheme makes room for additional complexity that might be needed.
It may become important to distinguish the yet more inflationary
agent-causal incompatibilism from the less inflationary event-causal
incompatibilism. Perhaps semi-compatibilism is akin to a position between
optimism and pessimism. And there is logical space for pessimistic
deflationism, although in practice I know of no such views.
This bi-dimensional structure underlies many other
debates as well. But is less easily recognized in other cases. So in other
analogous debates, alternatives are easier to neglect, and the corresponding
mistakes are easier to make. Consider for example debates about causality. A
deflationist will hold that causality is just constant conjunction. An
inflationist will hold that causality is a form of necessary connection not
reducible to constant conjunction. It can seem that there is an easy way to
argue for the constant conjunction view, on grounds of an argument that we
cannot have knowledge of necessary connections. But this is, at best, too
hasty. For those epistemological worries, even if entirely justified, also
leave open the possibility of combining a necessary connection view of what
causality is with a denial of the possibility of our knowing causes.
What is going on here, again, is that the debate
addresses two orthogonal issues. The first issue again concerns the
what it is question:
what is causality? And here again
there are inflationary and deflationary answers. But the other issue most
prominent in this debate does not concern existence, as in the question of
whether there is any such thing as free will; it concerns rather the
epistemological question: can we have
knowledge of causality? Here optimists say “yes,” and pessimists “no.”
Some may wish to give a skeptical argument that
philosophy should never take what is
X? issues seriously; if there were space, I would argue that philosophy
cannot avoid doing so, and that such skeptical arguments themselves
presuppose answers to other what is X?
issues, such as what is meaning?
But here it is more important to consider what general lessons we can draw
about such debates, if we are to engage them. First of all, the availability
of both existential and epistemological questions about optimism and
pessimism suggests the need to proceed carefully. Where it is more prominent
to debate about the existence question—as in debates about free will—we
should keep in mind not only the possibility of arguing for an inflationary
pessimism that would deny existence, but also distinguish the possibility of
an inflationary pessimism that would deny knowledge. For example, we should
not neglect the possibility of arguing for incompatibilism about free will
coupled with a denial of the possibility of our having knowledge of whether
or not we have free will—a position I will return to below.
An simpler general lesson is that potential errors stem
from neglecting alternatives made possible by the bi-dimensional
structure—often the alternative of
pessimistic forms of inflationism. For example, some might wish to argue
that inflationism has an epistemological disadvantage. But that is not
exactly correct. An inflationary account of X can always be combined with a
pessimistic view, as epistemologically modest as you like, that we cannot
have knowledge of X’s. Similarly, some might wish to argue that deflationism
has the advantage of ontological simplicity, or to object that inflationism
is metaphysically extravagant. Again, that is not really right. For an
inflationism about X can always be combined with an ontology that is as
simple as you like by pessimistically denying that there are any X’s.
When assessing the impact of scientific progress, it
can be tempting to instead mistakenly neglect
deflationary possibilities. For example, contemporary psychologists
sometimes claim to have shown that we do not have free will. But they tend
to merely assume inflationary views about what free will would have to
be—for example, that it would have to involve a cause that is uncaused,
immediately conscious, immaterial, etc. The more inflationary the demands,
the easier to prove that we do not meet them. But regardless of the extent
of the evidence that we do not meet those demands, the conclusion is
unsupported insofar as there is no philosophical argument for inflationism.
So it is no surprise that, in debates with this
structure, the arguments of historical figures can remain of importance.
Compared to us, for example, Hume is incredibly ignorant about the brain.
And yet his deflationary account of liberty and moral responsibility remains
of philosophical importance. Indeed, we
must remember the possibility of
this kind of deflationary position if we are to avoid the last mistake,
concerning the relevance of all our newer scientific knowledge. Similarly,
Hume is comparatively ignorant about physics. And yet his arguments about
causality remain of importance. In general, given any inflationary account
of X in terms of some requirements A, B, and C, scientific results might
well show that there is nothing that meets those requirements. But this
result in itself always leaves open the philosophical question of whether
the right conclusion is that there is no X—or rather whether ABC is an
overly inflationary and so mistaken way of understanding what X would be.
And there is no obvious or widely agreed way in which scientific results
might in themselves have entirely resolved or rendered obsolete the question
of what would have to be the case for there to be free will. Nor for there
to be causality. Nor, as we shall see, for there to be natural teleology.
Finally, it is important to note what burdens an
inflationist must and must not generally carry. We have seen that
inflationism in itself is not subject to worries about epistemological
immodesty, metaphysical extravagance, or conflict with science. Still, an
inflationist cannot just assert inflationism; she must argue. For example,
an incompatibilist cannot just say
that free will is incompatible with determinism. Perhaps she will argue that
(a) any account of free will must support an account of moral
responsibility, and then that (b) moral responsibility requires
incompatibilism. And, in general, the inflationist’s burden is to show that
(a) there is some widely agreed feature of X, which (b) requires an
inflationary account.
2. Teleology’s Explanatory Implications as the Basis of
Kant’s Inflationism
Kant’s discussion of teleology and life in the
Critique of the Power of Judgment
focuses on the concept of a
Naturzweck. I have previously approached this material in terms
more internal to the KU, aiming to consider all of the evidence there.
My focus here is on using the interpretive lens above to better understand
the underlying philosophical issues and the structure of Kant’s argument.
Interpreters often look to what Kant says about the
concept of a Naturzweck for his
views about living beings. And they often seek to understand the concept of
a
Naturzweck
in terms of the features of living beings discussed by Kant: mutually
compensating parts, taking nutrition, reproduction (KU 5:371f.). The
underlying idea of such approaches is that “Naturzweck”
is Kant’s “expression for biological organisms.”
And this approach can seem to charitably attribute to Kant a kind of
deflationism: a
Naturzweck/organism
is not something metaphysically extravagant; to be a
Naturzweck
just is to have features that we can clearly observe, like reproduction and
nutrition.
But any first step or assumption along these lines will
in fact doom us to confusion. For Kant denies that we can know whether there
are any Naturzwecke. The concept
of a
Naturzweck is “problematic”—when employing it “one does not know
whether one is judging about something or nothing” (KU 5:397). And:
“the concept of things as
natural ends
[Naturzwecke],
places reason as a cause into a relation with such things, as the ground of
their possibility, in a way which we cannot know through any experience” (EE
20:234). Or we can put the point in terms of explanation: a
Naturzweck would be something natural explicable in teleological
terms, and Kant denies that we can ever have the knowledge required to
explain anything natural in teleological terms. But this pessimism or
skepticism is obviously confused if
Naturzweck is just Kant’s expression for biological organisms, or
for beings that take nutrition and reproduce, or something along these
deflationary lines. For we obviously can know that there are biological
organisms. And we can know that organisms reproduce and draw nutrition from
the environment. And we know this, plainly, from experience.
To correct the original misstep, we need only recall the structure of free
will debates. It should be obvious that we cannot understand the issue at
stake between compatibilists and incompatibilists if we mistake it for an
issue concerning our actual capacities.
The issue is rather orthogonal to the question of whether we have free will
at all. And
Kant’s discussion of teleology and life similarly engages two orthogonal
issues. The first is: what is a
Naturzweck
(natural
end or purpose)? Or, roughly, what would it take for there to be natural
teleology, or something natural and genuinely explicable in teleological
terms?
The second, orthogonal issue is epistemic: Can we know
that there is any natural teleology? Or, more narrowly, can we know whether
living beings are Naturzwecke?
As
we have just seen, Kant’s answer to the question of knowledge of
Naturzwecke is “no.” But his overall view is subtle: We cannot know
whether there are any Naturzwecke;
but
actual living beings do have certain
features—nutrition, reproduction, etc.—which inevitably lead us to think of
them as Naturzwecke—so
teleological judgment of them is necessary for us; and such teleological
judgment plays an irreplaceable role in guiding our scientific inquiry into
the non-teleological explanations of things, even if we must always avoid
claiming theoretical knowledge that they are
Naturzweck and so avoid the claim
to explain anything natural in teleological terms.
Kant, then, is not a deflationist but an inflationary pessimist about the
teleological concept of a Naturzweck.
He is arguing that the concept of a natural teleological system includes
requirements demanding enough that we can never know whether anything meets
them. Again, there is no threat of metaphysical extravagance here. Kant’s
inflationism is epistemologically modest insofar as he denies the
possibility of theoretical knowledge of
Naturzwecke. His view is that we
must not assert or deny in any theoretical context, whether scientific or
philosophical, including metaphysics, that there are any
Naturzwecke.
But while Kant’s inflationism is not vulnerable to those worries, he still
must argue for it. The inflationist’s burden, we have seen, is to argue (a)
that there is some feature of X to which all must agree, and (b) that this
feature requires inflationism. Kant’s strategy is to argue (a) that all must
agree that the notion of natural teleology carries explanatory implications,
and (b) that those explanatory implications require an inflationary account
precluding our having knowledge here.
Kant’s initial analysis consists in two requirements on the relation of part
to whole within a complex system. The first is a requirement for anything to
be a teleological system or Zweck,
which would include artifacts produced by external design. The second
narrows the analysis to Naturzwecke,
or systems that are teleological by nature rather than external design.
What is crucial about the first requirement is the
explanatory demand it imposes. The idea here is that, for a teleological
system, it is not enough that the parts might
benefit other parts or the whole. Kant considers an example: there
are features of the arctic which benefit human survival there, including sea
creatures that provide nourishment. The benefit is certainly real, and we
can know that it exists. But it does not justify the conclusion that such
fish, say, have the teleological
purpose of nourishing humans. We can look at this point in terms of the
connection between teleology and normativity: “[a]
teleological judgment compares the concept of a product of nature as it is
with one of what it ought to be”
(EE 20:240). So to judge the arctic ecosystem in teleological terms would be
to judge that, should the fish flourish but become impossible for humans to
catch, or less nutritious for humans, then the fish would be failing to
fulfill their purpose, and the arctic ecosystem would be malfunctioning. But
clearly the fact that humans benefit does not alone justify such
teleological conclusions. For, as Kant says, “one does not see why human
beings have to live there at all” (KU 5:369). So any teleological concept of
a complex system must include the demand that such benefit is not merely
incidental: parts of this beneficial form must exist here
because of the role they play
within the whole, or for that reason, or on that account, so that they are
explained thereby. Kant puts this in terms of dependence: “for a thing as
a natural
end [Naturzweck]
it is requisite, first, that its parts (as far as their existence and their form are
concerned) are possible only through their relation to the whole” (KU
5:373).
I would look at the argument in this way:
(A1) If you analyze some concept of a kind of complex system, Y, without
including the requirement that the existence and form of the parts depend on
a role played within the whole, then there can be cases of evidence that a
system is Y without evidence that it is a teleological system.
(A2) Thus any analysis of a genuinely teleological concept of a system must
include the explanatory requirement that the existence and form of the parts
depends on the role they play within the whole.
To complete the analysis of a
Naturzweck,
Kant seeks a second requirement to rule out cases of teleological systems
that are created by external designers, leaving only teleological systems by
nature—a requirement that will distinguish such “inner purposiveness” from
the “external purposiveness” of artifacts. The idea here is that the parts
of artifacts are means to an end only insofar as an external designer
imposed some overall structure or organization; a
Naturzweck,
by contrast, would have to “self-organizing” (KU 5:374). Stated in terms of
part-whole relations, the second requirement must demand that the structure
or organization of the whole is determined not by something external to the
system but rather internally—and so by the parts
of the system itself. But for
a part to contribute to the determination of the structure would be to
contribute toward determining what other kinds of parts are present and in
what arrangement. So each part must form the others. Or, for a
Naturzweck,
it is required
“second,
that its parts be combined into a whole by being reciprocally the cause and
effect of their form” (KU 5:373).
How does this analysis support a yet more inflationary
account? The key argument connects the concept of any
Zweck (whether a
Naturzweck or not) with a prior determining representation of a
concept of the whole system. But this argument is complicated by Kant’s
epistemic modesty, holding that our cognition is restricted or limited to
knowledge of a spatio-temporal empirical world. So insofar as this
particular argument turns on appeal to temporal order, its results are
limited to things we can know about. That said, I would understand the key
argument in this way:
(B1) A part of a certain form can play a role within the whole only once the
part exists in that form within that whole.
(B2) The role played by parts in the whole can precede the existence of
parts with those forms only insofar as there is a preceding representation
of the whole and the roles to be played by the parts.
(B3) The role of parts with certain forms can be responsible for the
existence and form of those parts only insofar as the whole is determined by
a representation of the whole.
In Kant’s terms, in the order of “real causes,” an
end or purpose (Zweck) cannot
precede and thereby influence its own causes, so it can do so only as
“ideal,” or as first represented (KU 5:372). And so Kant
infers directly from the explanatory requirement to the need for
determination by a representation of a concept or idea of the whole:
[F]or
a thing as a natural end it is requisite, first, that its parts (as far as
their existence and their form are concerned) are possible only through
their relation to the whole. For the thing itself is an end, and is thus
comprehended under a concept or an idea that must determine a priori
everything that is to be contained in it.
(KU 5:373)
Kant then proceeds immediately to note how this
requirement is satisfied in the case of artifacts, and to consider whether
it might also be satisfied in a case of natural teleology.
Again, we must keep Kant’s epistemic modesty in mind.
Strictly speaking, the conclusion is this:
in the spatio-temporal empirical
world, the first requirement can be met, and so there can be a
teleological system, only where the system is the product of a prior
representation of the whole. Or:
anything knowable by us can be a teleological system only if it is the
product of a prior representation.
It is a mistake to worry, with MacFarland, that Kant’s
point here is scientifically outdated.
Kant is not claiming that actual organisms originate in representations. And
he is certainly not trying to explain in terms of design something that we
have since learned to explain in terms of natural selection. On the
contrary, he is arguing that we can never have the knowledge necessary
explain nature in any teleological terms at all.
More specifically, Kant argues as follows: If the
purposiveness of a system is to be
inner, or if it is to meet the second requirement, the parts themselves
would have to determine the structure of the whole,
and – in a spatio-temporal, empirical world – they would have to do so in
a manner guided by a
representation
of the whole. Now,
the parts of the real complex systems of which we have empirical knowledge,
such as living beings, are matter.
And matter cannot represent concepts or intend to act in accordance: “no
intention in the strict sense of the term can be attributed to any lifeless
matter” (KU 5:383). The point is not that the first requirement cannot be
met by a material system: it can be met by material artifacts, which are the
products of external design. The point is that Kant’s two requirements,
applied to an exhaustively material
system, would be incompatible. For any reason in favor of thinking that
the structure of an exclusively material whole is due to its own parts would
also be (because the parts are matter) reason to deny that the whole is
determined by a representation, and so to deny that it is a teleological
system at all. So:
[I]f
we consider a material whole, as far as its form is concerned, as a product
of the parts and of their forces and their capacity to combine by themselves
[…]
we represent a mechanical kind of generation. But from this there arises no
concept of a whole as
an end [Zweck].
(KU 5:408)
We are, then, not just dealing with a theory that
is comparable to incompatibilism about free will in that both are forms of
inflationism; Kant’s account of natural teleology
is a form of incompatibilism, applied to this topic—at least when it
comes to anything of which we can have knowledge.
And yet it is crucial that Kant is arguing
that there is at least a bare or minimal
logical
possibility of a Naturzweck.
He is, in a sense, holding out the merely logical possibility of a kind
of compatibilism that must remain unknowable and incomprehensible for us.
For there is an open possibility that we cannot rule out on merely logical
grounds—that is to say, an open merely logical possibility. There could be
something that is a Naturzweck in
virtue of
a non-spatio-temporal “supersensible real ground of nature” or a “thing
in itself (which is not an appearance) as substratum” (KU 5:409). We can
have neither knowledge of any of such substratum of nature, nor knowledge of
whether there are any Naturzwecke.
We cannot even have any positive comprehension of how there could be such a
Naturzweck.
We can only conceive, by contrast with our own intellect, of an intellect
that would be superior in kind—an “intuitive understanding” (KU §77)—which
might have knowledge of beings that are
Naturzwecke in virtue of a
supersensible real ground of nature.
I can see two ways to try to think our way towards this
logical possibility, despite its remaining incomprehensible for us. One way
would be to note that supersensible stuff underlying matter might be (unlike
matter itself) capable of representing the concept of a whole and organizing
itself in accordance. The resulting organized being could satisfy Kant’s
formulations of the notion of a purpose or
Zweck in general, even where he formulates the notion in terms of
the need for a determining or originating concept (e.g. KU 5:220, 5:373).
But such a being would not be the product of merely external design—it would
be the product of the self-organization of its own underlying parts or stuff
(which would be capable of representing concepts and organizing themselves
in accordance). If a “mechanistic”
whole is just one in which the structure of the whole is due to “the parts
and of their forces and their capacity to combine by themselves,” then this
sort of being would also manifest a (for us unknowable) compatibility of
teleology and mechanism.
The second way is to note that, once we are conceiving
of a non-spatio-temporal, supersensible substrate, we have already stepped
beyond the reach of the argument that a
Naturzweck
requires an originating representation of the concept of the whole. For the
argument turns on a representation being the only way that the whole can
precede itself in time. So the
need for the determining representation follows only for anything that could
be the object of our non-divine understanding, or anything that could be
known or comprehended by us. A fundamentally non-spatio-temporal being
knowable only by an intellect superior in kind might—for all we can know or
comprehend—organize itself from within without need of representations of
concepts at all. So even if we take “mechanism” to require not only something
explicable in terms of its parts themselves, but also to rule out
teleological explanations in terms of representations of ends—still we
cannot rule out on logical grounds a
Naturzweck that would be also “mechanistic” in virtue of its
grounds in an underlying non-spatio-temporal substrate of nature. As Kant
later says:
[A]nother
(higher) understanding than the human one might be able to find the ground
of the possibility of such products of nature even in the mechanism of
nature, i.e., in a causal connection for which an understanding does not
have to be exclusively assumed as a cause. (KU 5:406)
Fortunately, we need not wade any further into Kant’s
complicated discussions of the intuitive understanding. What is crucial for
our purposes is that the merely logical but incomprehensible possibility
cannot in any case apply to any
exhaustively material system, nor to any system of which we can in principle
have exhaustive knowledge. Similarly, if a “mechanistic” system is one whose
structure is explained by material
“parts and of their forces and their capacity to combine by themselves,”
then there is no possibility whatsoever of a compatibility of natural
teleology and mechanism.
While there is a slight sense in which the open logical
possibility mitigates Kant’s incompatibilism, it in no way mitigates Kant’s
inflationism. The concept of a
Naturzweck
remains extremely demanding: it requires either an origin in a concept of
the whole represented by the parts, or an origin in an unknowable and
incomprehensible (for us) supersensible non-spatio-temporal ground of
nature. This is a demanding requirement—demanding enough that nothing we
could ever know could ever meet it.
Of course, yet again, the point is not to argue that
living beings originate in either representations or anything supersensible.
On the contrary, the point is that we cannot know any of this to be the
case. Precisely something unknowable yet logically possible is what is
needed for Kant to argue that the concept of a
Naturzweck is useful for reasons unrelated to knowability.
To begin with, preserving the logical possibility of a
Naturzweck
leaves room for Kant to claim that living beings are such that we will think
of them or judge them as self-organizing
Naturzwecke, even though we cannot
have knowledge of this.
We will think of them as Zwecke
insofar as they are so organized that we cannot see how the benefits of
parts to whole could be merely incidental, for
“nature, considered as mere mechanism, could have
structured itself differently in a thousand ways without hitting on
precisely the unity in terms of a principle of purposes” (KU 5:360). Further, we will think of them as self-organizing, or
in terms of the inner purposiveness of a
Naturzweck, insofar as they have
mutually compensating parts,
incorporate matter in order to grow, and they generate new living beings by
reproduction (KU 5:371f.). In Kant’s terms, our experience “exhibits” but
nonetheless cannot “prove” the existence of real
Naturzwecke (EE
20:234).
Second, Kant can then argue that thinking of living
beings in such teleological terms provides us with an indispensable
heuristic aid in scientific inquiry seeking non-teleological explanations—so
Kant will argue that we cannot make scientific progress toward understanding
them without teleology as a guide.
Teleological judgment serves as “a heuristic principle for researching the
particular laws of nature, even granted that we would want to make no use of
it for explaining nature itself” (KU 5:410). In fact Kant will argue that we
require guidance by thinking of nature as a whole in these terms, if we are
to seek knowledge of the laws of nature. But it is crucial that the point is
not to establish the existence, likely existence, or even merely possible
existence (in any but the merely logical sense) of
Naturzwecke. The point is to
establish that the concept of natural teleological system is so demanding
that there is some hope of our using it for guidance without confusing this
with the assertion of knowledge.
This Kantian position is not rendered obsolete by
progress in biology. It is rather a kind of neglected alternative in today’s
debates about teleology and life. Some today argue that the explanatory
implications of teleology require external design, and that this justifies
the deflationary conclusion that the notion of function of use in biology is
weaker, and not teleological—it is just the notion of a part of a system
susceptible to a kind of functional analysis.
The resulting notion can apply pretty much anywhere. The arctic ecosystem
can be functionally analyzed in such a way that fish will be correctly said
to have the “function” (in this non-teleological sense) of feeding humans.
The other side in the contemporary debate is occupied by those who argue
that the explanatory implications of teleology can be satisfied by natural
selection, without need of design, concluding that the parts of living
beings do have functions in a teleological sense.
These new teleologists can argue that biology requires use of a more
restrictive notion of function than the idea of functional analysis
applicable anywhere. The anti-teleologists can reply that natural selection,
properly understood, cannot really satisfy the explanatory implications of a
teleological notion of function.
Both lines of argument are worth taking seriously, but once we understand
Kant we can see that neither is sufficient to support either contemporary
approach. For there is a neglected alternative. What is neglected is the
possibility that biology needs a more restrictive and so teleological notion
of function, but only as a guide for inquiry and never as the object of
knowledge or scientific conclusion. A contemporary Kantian, then, can accept
the just-noted arguments made by both sides against the other, and can claim
this as a unique strength of a Kantian view. So Kant’s view is not obsolete.
On the contrary, understanding Kant allows us to better understand that the
underlying philosophical terrain is more complex than is apparent if we
judge only by current debates.
Finally, we can compare a kind of debate about free
will. Imagine on one side there are agent-causal libertarians arguing that
compatibilism unacceptably deflates the notion of free will. And imagine on
the other side there are compatibilists arguing that everything we know
about the world makes plain that there is not and cannot be any evidence in
favor of our being agent causes. Both sides would be neglecting an
alternative that could accept both of their arguments—namely, this view:
To have free will would be
to be an uncaused agent-cause. But we cannot know whether we really are
agent-causes. So we cannot know whether we have free will. Still, we cannot
avoid taking up a practical standpoint, or the standpoint from which we
deliberate about what we have reason to do. And taking up that standpoint
involves thinking of ourselves as free, or as uncaused agent-causes. So we
must think of ourselves as free. Further, such thinking plays an
irreplaceable and beneficial role in moral life. But we still must avoid
claiming theoretical knowledge of whether or not we have free will, or
asserting this in the context of any theoretical philosophy or science.
Note that this is not a deflationist account on which having free will is
just taking up a practical standpoint, or deliberating. A deflationist
reading makes the view confused, since we obviously can know that we do
deliberate. Further, note that the inescapability and benefit of thinking of
ourselves as free, on this view, has nothing to do with any assertion of
theoretical knowledge that we are free, likely free, or even possibly free
in anything but a merely logical sense.
I think that this last view about free will—this form
of inflationary pessimism—not only illuminates by comparison Kant’s position
on teleology and life, but would also be a promising
approach to Kant’s position on free will itself in much
of the critical period. Although I cannot develop or defend that approach
further here, I will just note this striking parallel: Kant’s aim is to
argue that Naturzwecke “can be conceived without contradiction but cannot be
comprehended” (KU 5:371). The KU Introduction, in explaining the importance
of the topic of the power of judgment and its connection to Kant’s previous
work, claims that “freedom” involves a special sort of “cause,” “the
possibility of which cannot of course be understood, although the objection
that there is an alleged contradiction in it can be adequately refuted” (KU
5:195).
4. Hegel’s Strategy
Hegel’s Logic
response to Kant concerning life and teleology is by no means entirely
critical. Hegel finds Kant’s analysis and the whole idea of “internal
purposiveness” to be of great importance—for philosophy generally and not
just for philosophical issues concerning life. In Hegel’s terms, “[w]ith
this concept of internal
purposiveness, Kant has
resuscitated the
Idea
in general and especially the
Idea
of life.”
(EL §204A)
But Hegel aims to draw on Kant’s analysis to argue against Kant’s own
skepticism: Hegel argues that living beings
do manifest true “internal
purposiveness,” or are
Naturzwecke,
that their structure and development
is explicable in teleological terms, and that we
can have objective knowledge of
this natural teleology. So Kant should not, Hegel says, have been satisfied
with natural teleology as “mere maxims of a subjective
cognition”; “the end relation” is on the contrary
“the
absolute truth that judges objectively
and determines external objectivity absolutely” (WL 6:444/739).
I have elsewhere approached the “Life” section in
Hegel’s Logic from a perspective
more internal to Hegel’s project.
My aim here is to focus on how the interpretive lens of free will debates
clarifies the standard to be met by the argument, and how Hegel meets the
standard. We can in particular understand the challenge facing Hegel by
comparing this sort of argument for an inflationary pessimism about free
will:
(C1) Free will must be something such that our
having it would account for our being morally responsible for the things we
do.
(C2) Being morally responsible would require being
an uncaused agent-cause.
(C3) Thus having free will requires being an
uncaused agent-cause.
(C4) There is no agent-causation… Etc.
The argument itself will structure the terrain on
which optimists might counter-attack. A first possibility is an
entirely inflationary optimism: One could accept (C1-3) and then try to give
an argument in metaphysics that we are agent-causes. It will be challenging,
of course, to square uncaused agent causes with what we know about the laws
of nature (regardless of whether determinism is true).
A second possibility is an entirely deflationary
response, but it is hard to see the appeal. One could admit that there is
for the given reason no moral responsibility, but then argue for a purely
deflationary account on which free will faces no such problem because it
need not have anything to do with whether anyone is really responsible for
what they do. That is, one could admit that (C1) would force us to accept
everything else all the way to (C4), and then one could reject (C1).
A third possibility is the most obvious opening: accept
the inflationist’s own standard for what counts as free will, in (C1), but
try to block the move to any further inflationism (C2-3) by giving a
compatibilist account of moral responsibility.
I think the point about an obvious opening for
rejoinder will generalize. Compare Kant’s argument about
Naturzwecke. He argues that teleology carries an explanatory
requirement that must be recognized by all sides, and then argues that this
demands an inflationary account requiring (in anything knowable for us)
originating representations. Interpretations of Hegel’s response tend to
gravitate toward the most extreme possibilities.
One extreme possibility would be to defend an entirely
inflationary form of optimism. One could grant all of Kant’s argument
concerning what would be a required for a
Naturzweck,
but then simply argue (contra Kant) that we can know that living beings
satisfy all of his inflationary demands. The resulting view would be this:
There is indeed a dualism separating ordinary intellect from a higher,
divine form of understanding; but (contra Kant) we can know that there is
such higher understanding, because we can break through the barrier and
ascend to this higher perspective. And, once ascended, we gain a access to a
supersensible ground of matter itself, and can see that it is
self-organizing in a way that is either animated by something like a soul
representing concepts, or else in some non-spatio-temporal manner utterly
incomprehensible for anything short of this superior-in-kind higher
intellect. So we can know in this way that there are
Naturzwecke. Perhaps by ascending
to a divine immediate grasp of all reality at once, we can even know reality
itself to be a
Naturzweck. I will argue that this is
not Hegel’s approach.
A second possibility, on the other extreme, would be an
entirely deflationary response to Kant. Sometimes this takes the form of a
complaint that Kant confuses teleology with efficient causality.
The idea would be this: first, grant that Kant’s explanatory requirement,
that parts of a certain form must be present
because of their roles in the
whole, would force us to the rest of Kant’s inflationism and pessimism;
second, reject Kant’s explanatory requirement and so escape his conclusions.
The result would be an analysis of teleology on which it carries no
implications about why parts of a certain form are present or exist—no
implication about what is really responsible for the origin and shaping of a
complex system. And so we would have two obviously compatible ways of
talking about one and the same bit of nature: we could talk about whatever
really brings about, determines, produces, or is responsible for parts of
this form in this arrangement; and we could also talk in teleological terms
carrying no implications about any of that. This would be as unproblematic
as saying that one and the same thing can be both square and heavy. To
understand teleology (on this view of it) would be to see that there can in
no case be any difficulty concerning incompatibility.
But such entirely deflationary proposals are no more
compelling than the idea of ceding incompatibilism about moral
responsibility and then trying to argue for the strangely deflationary claim
that free will is safe because it doesn’t have anything to do with whether
one is responsible for what one does. And such proposals are no match for
Kant’s argument for the explanatory requirement. Consider again the system
in which arctic fish benefit humans. The deflationary proposal holds that it
does not matter, for teleology, whether fish of this form came to be present
there on because of this role, relative to humans, in the whole system. But
then the deflationary proposal will allow that, from the fact of benefit, it
would follow that this is the
teleological purpose of the fish, so that fish becoming smarter and
impossible for us to catch would be a
malfunction in the fish. But that teleological
conclusion is clearly not justified by the fact of benefit. And any way I
see of tightening the deflationary proposal would allow altering the example
to generate the same false implication. So the purely deflationary proposal
does not capture genuine teleology. A teleological system requires at least
some kind of real dependence (which in no way need be narrowly a
causal relation between events) of the existence and form of the parts on
the whole.
Fortunately, it is clear that Hegel’s approach is not
purely deflationary in this sense. Hegel says that teleology and mechanism
cannot be shown to be mutually “indifferent” simply by noting that they
differ:
[I]f
mechanism and purposiveness stand opposed to one another, they cannot for
that very reason be taken as
indifferent concepts, each of which is correct on its own account,
possessing as much validity as the other.
(WL 6:437/734)
Nor does an “equally validity” of both follow
simply because
“we
have them both” (WL 6:437/734).
Hegel, then, accepts that the idea of natural teleology presents a challenge
or a problem not so easily defused. And he accepts the burden of providing
an argument that the challenge can be met. And he will argue that life is a
kind of special case in which the challenge can be met.
But once we look through the lens of free will debates,
we easily see that talk of pure inflationism or pure deflationism is
distracting us from a neglected alternative that is obvious and inviting: a
kind of mixed response. One could (a) accept a bit of inflationism in the
form of Kant’s explanatory requirement for any teleological system and then
(b) add a bit of deflationism in the form of trying to argue against the
inference from here to any further inflationary requirement for a
determining representation on the part of the underlying matter or anything
else.
And we can easily see that Hegel must be pursuing such
a mixed strategy. For we have just seen that Hegel’s response is not pure
deflationism; Hegel will clearly (a) accept a bit of inflationism in the
form of Kant’s explanatory requirement. But Hegel will clearly add (b) a bit
of deflationism, in that he rejects any further inflationary claim that a
natural teleological system requires an originating or determining
representation explaining how the parts of a system originally came to be
present. This is clear because Hegel so
emphatically denies that the possibility of natural teleology depends on any
prior determining representation, or on anything like an intelligence
capable of representation. For example, when Hegel begins the “Teleology”
section in the EL he says: “In
dealing with the purpose
[Zweck],
we must not think at once (or merely) of the form in which it occurs in
consciousness as a determination that is present in representation” (EL §204A).
Hegel proceeds immediately to the importance of Kant’s analysis of the
Naturzweck; his aim is to take this and then use it in some way
that will block the
connection to determining representations present in
some prior consciousness.
5. Hegel’s Argument
Hegel argues by constructing a concept of life
out of three requirements. The point is not to attempt an
a priori argument about what life
must be like. Rather, the point is to argue that anything meeting these
three requirements—which are clearly met by actual living beings—can be
known for that reason to also satisfy Kant’s analysis of a
Naturzweck,
without need of any originating representation of the whole on the part of
the underlying matter or anything else. The three part analysis of
life, structures the “Life”
section in the self-standing and the Encyclopedia
Logic, and also discussions of
biology in the Philosophy of Nature.
The “Life” section in the Logic
consists of: “A. The Living Individual”, “B. The Life Process”, and “C. Kind
(Gattung).”
The first
requirement mirrors Kant’s analysis
in terms of reciprocal relations between
part and whole: “all the members are reciprocally
momentary means as well as momentary ends” (EL §216,
transl. modified). Or: “the organs are the means of life, and
these very means, the organs themselves, are also the element in which life
realizes and maintains itself
[…]
[T]his
is self-preservation” (VPR 17:508/336).
Second, the concept of
life also demands that a complex
system itself requires some kind of
assimilation from the outside environment by which “it maintains itself,
develops itself and objectifies itself” (EL §219).
Third, Hegel’s concept of
life also demands that individuals
must reproduce within a species. So anything satisfying Hegel’s concept must
also pursue self-preservation in an additional sense: it must aim to
reproduce itself—it “produces
itself as another individual of the same species” (PP 4:32/142). It produces
another with the same structure: in reproduction, “there emerges a
determination of the entire structure” (EN
§355Z).
In Hegel’s terms, the third requirement demands the “process of the
Gattung” (kind or species) or the
Gattungsprozess.
In combination the three requirements demand something
that is (a) organized to preserve itself through the activities of (b)
assimilation and (c) reproduction. Hegel seeks to prove that this yields
teleology—a “system of activities which is actualized into a system of
organs through which those activities proceed” so that “in this way the
living thing is articulated purposefully; all its members serve only as
means to the one end of self-preservation” (VPA 13:193/1:145).
One way to bring out the philosophical point of all
this is to attend to the influence of Aristotle. I set aside the question of
the accuracy of Hegel’s reading of Aristotle. But Hegel sees in Aristotle
the claim that all life aims at self-preservation. For example, a seed
“directed solely to self-preservation” is Hegel’s example of Aristotle’s
“concept of the end as immanent” (EN
§245Z).
And it is easy to see what Hegel is thinking of in Aristotle: the claim that
all life, including plants, shares the “nutritive soul” in the sense of
having the end of self-preservation, not only in the sense of the nutrition
by which the individual survives but also reproduction by which the species
survives.
But Hegel sees in Aristotle also the denial that this has anything to do
with a claim that plants or their parts or a seed must
represent that end
and organize in accordance with its
representation. It is again easy to see what Hegel is thinking of in
Aristotle: for example, “[i]t is absurd to suppose that purpose is not
present” simply because there is no “agent deliberating.”
(Perhaps Aristotle and/or Hegel refer “souls” in order to argue further that
being directed toward self-preservation also must involve some kind of
capacity to detect ways to reach
it, and perhaps that would mean something like a proto-representational
capacity; but this would not cede Kant’s claim, which concerns the need in a
knowable teleological system that it
originally came about as a result of a prior representation of that
system.)
Finally, Hegel sees in Aristotle the claim
that in reproduction an organism “produces itself as another
individual of the same species” (PP 4:32/142).
Hegel writes his terms for this point into his construal of a passage
(Physics 198a) from Aristotle:
That which is produced is as such in the ground, that is, it is an end [Zweck], kind [Gattung] in itself, it is by
the same token prior, before it becomes actual, as potentiality. Man
generates men; what the product is, is also the producer. (VGP 19:176)
To follow the implications of these points for Kant’s
argument, we need to think of the connection between species (Gattung)
and individual, type and token. A token elm tree, for example, “produces
itself” in that what it produces is the same in type. From the perspective
of the later elm, it has been produced by itself “prior, before it becomes
actual.” A part of the elm, a leaf (token), has been produced by prior
generations which share that very same part (type) “prior, before it becomes
actual.” Now our new leaf (token) certainly benefits the whole elm
(token)—it assimilates from the environment. The question raised by Kant’s
analysis is whether we can know that this benefit is why a leaf of this form
is present at all. And we can. The new leaf (token) is only possible insofar
as the leaf (type) benefits the whole elm (type). For if this (type of) leaf
did not, then a system (of this type) could not survive and reproduce, and
the new leaf (token) would never have been produced at all. With life
generally, a part (token) is possible only insofar as that part (type) plays
its beneficial role in relation to the whole (type). And each organism meets
Kant’s demand that, in a teleological system the “parts (as far as their
existence and their form are concerned) are possible only through their
relation to the whole” (KU 5:373). It is not just that the parts benefit the
whole; the parts are present specifically on account of the way in which
they are a benefit to the whole. So we can say that the leaf is a means to
the end, purpose or Zweck of
assimilating from the environment, and in turn the end of
self-preservation—it is there for
that reason.
Or we can put the point in terms of Kant’s own
connection between teleology and normativity. Failure cannot just mean that
something no longer benefits another—for this would suggest that fish
suddenly eluding capture by humans would be normative failures. So Kant’s
view is that this possibility of normative malfunction in anything we could
know about could only be relative to a determining representation of a
concept. Hegel’s response makes the possibility of normative failure in life
relative to the species or kind. Thus Hegel sometimes equates
“Gattung” with an “ought” or
Sollen (e.g. WL 6:306/662). In
biological cases specifically, the possibility of “defect” is relative to
“the rule, the characteristic of the species or class (Gattungs-
oder Klassenbestimmtheit)” (EN
§368Z
in the
German,
§370Z
in the English edition).
To follow the argument in Hegel, we need to follow his
use of the term “immediate” in the
Logic. The first step of Kant’s analysis governs only part-whole
relations or “the process of the living being
inside itself” (EL §218).
But in such analysis there is no
mediation through which we could comprehend the possibility of the
origin or genesis of a teleological system. At this point, teleology can
only be an immediate presupposition:
“the living individual, at first disengaged from the universal concept of
life, is a presupposition that is not as yet authenticated by the living
individual itself.” But now, given Hegel’s focus on self-preservation
including reproduction within the species, “its genesis, which was an act of
presupposing, now becomes its
production” (WL 6:484/772-3). The significance of the third requirement and
the completed analysis is that “the living individual, which was at first
presupposed as immediate, is now seen to be mediated and generated” (EL
§221). So Hegel cedes that the genesis of a
Naturzweck
is problematic; what he argues is that reproduction within the species
solves that problem, explaining the genesis of a
Naturzweck in a way that we can understand and know about.
Strictly speaking, it remains for Hegel to argue in the
discussions of life in the Philosophy
of Nature that our knowledge of plant and animal biology fits the
analysis. But what is needed here will be uncontroversial—after all, there
are living beings, and they do assimilate and reproduce. The argument in the
Logic shows why, in knowing this,
we know such living beings as natural teleological systems, or
Naturzwecke.
Looking through the lens of
free will debates brings out the strength of Hegel’s argument here. Again,
an incompatibilist cannot just stipulate incompatibilism. She must argue.
She might argue that (a) free will must support moral responsibility, which
(b) requires in turn incompatibilism. But any such strategy opens the
possibility of a rejoinder arguing for a compatibilist account of moral
responsibility. What is crucial is that our incompatibilist cannot then
respond that the resulting account fails to
capture
genuine free will because it is merely compatibilist. That would
again be merely stipulating incompatibilism. The incompatibilist is free to
choose the standard of what counts as genuine free will to make her argument
as forceful as she can. But if a compatibilist rejoinder can meet the
incompatibilist’s own standard—the standard specifically chosen to make
trouble for compatibilists—then this is a win for the compatibilist
rejoinder.
In the present case, Kantians will certainly be tempted to respond that
Hegel’s natural teleology is not
genuine teleology at all, because it lacks an origin in any power of
matter to represent an organized whole and organize itself in accordance,
thus fixing genuinely teleological
purposes. But Kantians are in no position to so respond. For they cannot
just stipulate that teleology requires something like a prior
representation. If they did, then Hegel would be free to respond that he is
defending teleology in a sense that accounts for every feature of it aside
from the merely stipulated addition about a determining representation. So
Kant must instead argue. And Kant’s argument sets the standard for what will
count as a genuinely teleological system: the existence and form of the
parts must depend on the whole. Kant chooses this standard in order to
defend the conclusion that a knowable or comprehensible
Naturzweck would require a determining representation of the
whole. So if Hegel can meet that same standard without need of a determining
representation of the whole, then Kantians are in no position to protest
that this is not genuine teleology.
Further, recall the specifics of Kant’s first requirement, defining the
notion of a purpose or Zweck in
general: the existence and form of the parts must be possible only through
their relation to the whole. But Kant cannot mean to require the parts be
possible only through their relation to
this very token whole. For it is a
strength of Kant’s analysis that it explains why artifacts are purposes,
with parts that can malfunction (even if they are not
natural purposes, or
Naturzwecke). The first requirement is met by artifacts in this way: the
existence and form of the token parts are possible only through the
representation of a concept of the
whole—only through the relation between parts of this type to wholes of this
type. So Kant must allow identification of token and type in defending his
first requirement, or his analysis of purposes or
Zwecke. Thus he has no principled
grounds to resist Hegel’s meeting both requirements by appeal to a connection between tokens and a
different sort of type—the type fixed by reproduction, rather than
representation.
Similarly, Kantians cannot protest that Hegel’s rejoinder fails to explain
how matter can organize itself. On
the face of it, we can at least conceive of a logically possible
non-material universe, and inner purposiveness or self-organization there would have nothing to do with matter. So the analysis should, and
does, concern only rather relations between parts and whole. If Hegel’s
argument succeeds, then it demonstrates how we can know that the analysis is
satisfied without needing any knowledge of the underlying matter. If so,
then the underlying matter is not relevant to the question of the
possibility and knowability of
Naturzwecke.
6.
Metaphysically Robust Compatibilism about Natural Teleology
Another way in which comparison with free will debates can help us is by
highlighting the fact that Hegel’s view in “Life” is not just analogous to
compatibilism—it is a form of
compatibilism. I noted above Kant’s view is that teleology and mechanism,
applied to a material system, would be incompatible. Hegel’s argument is
also a case for the compatibility of determination of underlying parts by
necessary law and teleological determination of the whole. Thus Hegel
praises Aristotle’s philosophy of nature for defending “two determinations:
the conception of end and the conception of necessity” (VGP 19:173/2:156).
To be sure, Hegel does not hold that
living beings can also be explained in non-teleological terms. The basic
reason is that a living being has an intrinsic end or purpose. And it has
parts or “members” which are themselves means to the intrinsic end. Neither
matter nor chemical substances fit the analysis of
life, and neither have intrinsic
ends in this sense. So the nature of living beings and their “members” is
neither mechanical nor chemical. In Hegel’s terms, “the organism is a
manifold, not of parts but of
members.”
(WL 6:476/766) And “members” in this sense “are what they are only by
and in relation to their unity”
(EL §216Z)—only insofar as they are means to the end of the
whole.
But this is not to deny the applicability of lower-level forms of mechanical
and chemical explanation within the spatio-temporal bounds of a living
being. The point is rather that, so long as we have no teleological ends or
purposes in view, what we explain
by this means would not itself be living being as such nor its “members.” So
Hegel says of the living being that “the mechanical or chemical relationship
does not attach to it.” He adds, however, that “as externality it is indeed
capable of such relationships, but to that extent it is not a living
being.” Hegel then concludes that, “[w]hen the living thing is taken as a
whole consisting of parts, or as anything operated on by mechanical or
chemical causes […] it is taken as a dead thing.” But we can also “grasp” it
as “living being” in terms of a “purposiveness” that is genuinely “inner”
(WL 2:419/766).
The transition from assimilated external elements into blood, for example,
cannot be understood in terms of necessitating causes (WL 6:228/562). But
Hegel does not deny the possibility of analyzing what is going on within the
blood stream in terms of underlying chemical elements; this simply does not
explain blood as such: “blood
which has been analyzed into these constituents is no longer living blood” (EN
§365Z;
see also EL §219Z).
To be blood is not to have a certain chemical constitution, but to serve in
distinctive ways as a means to the end of self-preservation in particular
kinds of organism. More broadly, we can explain the behavior of the chemical
substances and reactions found along the way of the broader process of
assimilation in “inorganic” terms, in which case their interconnection or
organization will be “superfluous.” But all of these elements are present,
in this particular arrangement, for the sake of an end, so that “still the
course of organic being in itself occurs
for its own sake” (EN
§365Z).
Note that Hegel’s compatibilism here is inconsistent with other interpretive
approaches noted above. On the one hand, a purely deflationary reading would
portray Hegel as arguing that teleological concepts carry no implication
about what is responsible for the existence and form of the parts depending
on the whole. This would yield a kind of compatibilism, to be sure. But this
purely deflationary compatibilism would render superfluous all of the
complex work Hegel does in “Life,” all of the points he draws from
Aristotle, and in particular the emphasis on reproduction—all of it would be
neither needed for nor even relevant to a defense of compatibilism about
natural teleology. But Hegel’s view is that it is specifically reproduction
which
makes possible compatibilism here. What makes this possible is that
an individual “produces itself as another individual of the same species”
(PP 4:32/142), or (where Hegel is reading Aristotle) “what the product is,
is also the producer” (VGP 19:176), so that we can understand how “its
genesis, which was an act of
presupposing, now becomes its production” (WL 6:484/772-3). Clearly
Hegel’s view is that the broader question of what
produces a system is—contra pure
deflationism—relevant to teleology and key to his compatibilism.
On the other hand, imagine reading Hegel as arguing that matter has a soul
that represents concepts and organizes itself in accordance. This would be
to argue for a kind of resistance to or interruption
of
the necessity of lower-level laws, which would contradict Hegel’s
compatibilism.
Note that Hegel gives no defense of teleological explanation of the
historical development of a species. Hegel does not require that
there must have been a time when elms lacked leaves of a certain form, and
then acquired them on account of some purpose or goal. So he cannot be
defending the claim that elms came over time to have leaves for the sake of
any end. Hegel’s argument, if successful, demonstrates that questions about
how and whether a species changes, or how life originated, are irrelevant to
the resolution of the philosophical problem, left by Kant, concerning how
teleology might explain the structure and behavior of a complex natural
system, such as an individual organism.
So while Hegel might well have any number of false beliefs about
historical development of biological species, this is irrelevant to his
philosophical argument against Kant. Note in particular that Kantians cannot
require that Hegel provide an account of how, from a state of lifelessness,
life emerged. Kant himself thinks that he has no explanation of how life
came about, and yet he does not consider this reason to doubt whether we can
know whether there are living beings—we can see them with our own eyes. If
Hegel provides reasons for also thinking that living beings also satisfy
Kant’s analysis of the concept of a Naturzweck without appeal to any required ancient history, then he
shows that ancient history is beside the point. Note that there is another
parallel here with compatibilism about free will, for that view too must
advocate the irrelevance of sufficiently distant history: a compatibilist
account of free will must leave open the possibility that what I do is
determined by the state of the universe prior to human beings, holding that
this possibility is irrelevant to the question of my free will.
As with Kant’s, Hegel’s view is not rendered obsolete but rather neglected
in contemporary debate. There are those today who defend teleology by
appealing to natural selection. This approach will require many of the
elements of Hegel’s. This obviously includes the requirement of reproduction
within a species. But it also includes the robust explanatory role for
general types of features of a species. Millikan’s definition of normative
or proper function, for example, refers to “traits having been causally
efficacious”. But if Hegel’s argument works, then natural teleology
can be defended by means of these elements
without need of any view about the
historical development of a species, and thus without
need
of any appeal to natural selection. Insofar as the addition means
that the new teleologists must defend themselves against the worry that
natural selection cannot do what they require it to do, a contemporary Hegelian would likely see here a
strength of Hegel’s view by comparison.
Further, the argument in “Life” is evidence against the idea that Hegel’s
metaphysics is an organic monism, holding that everything real is part of an
all-encompassing organism, which is a
Naturzweck, so that its nature and purpose explain the existence
and form of everything real. For “Life” argues that there can be a true
Naturzweck only when there are
multiple individuals engaged in a process of reproduction and
drawing nutrition from outside
themselves.
But it is important that Hegelian compatibilism is not a view that blandly
seeks comfort in a lack of surprising or far-reaching metaphysical claims.
On the contrary, Hegel’s compatibilism is part of an ambitious project in
metaphysics. To begin with, we should not underestimate the degree to which
Hegel’s view marries some deflationism (the lack of a requirement for
representations) with a significant dose of inflationism. In particular,
Kant argues that, without representation, a
Naturzweck would require a supersensible non-spatio-temporal
ground, knowable and comprehensible only by a higher form of intellect. I
have focused mainly on the sense in which Hegel rejects this requirement: we
can know and comprehend a
Naturzweck simply by knowing about reproduction within a species.
But there is also a sense in which Hegel’s response is an explanation of how
the requirement can be met. For there is a sense in which Hegel thinks that
we take up a superior perspective on life when we come to understand how an
organism “produces itself,” or to understand this kind of type-token
connection in reproduction. And insofar as we take up that superior
perspective, we understand why the order of time does not prevent a sense in
which something can contribute to its prior genesis: we understand how
“[t]hat which is produced is as such in the ground
[…]
prior, before it becomes actual” (VGP 19:176).
Further, Hegel’s argument in “Life” directs attention toward his
metaphysical views about “concepts” or
Begriffe. For although we are supposed to be able to know about a form
of natural teleology that needs no determining
representations, Hegel does not
take this to mean that it needs
no
determining concepts. Rather,
Hegel is aiming to argue that there is a kind of “objective concept,” or
Begriff, that can be of
explanatory relevance without needing to be represented. In biological cases “the concept” is the kind or
species [Gattung]. It makes sense
to use the term “concept” here insofar as the
Gattung is something general or
universal—insofar
as there are multiple instances of one and the same kind. But “the concept”
in this sense is in no way dependent on its being represented. Nor is it
dependent on its somehow “containing” representations of necessary and
sufficient conditions of its application. The concept or kind distinguishes
itself in the ways that its tokens struggle to survive: “the animal
establishes and preserves itself as an independent existence, that is,
distinguishes itself from others” (EN
§368A
in the German, §370A in the English edition). And such
individuals bind themselves together into the kind by relations of
reproduction, so that the “product” of this process is “the
realized species
[Gattung],
which has posited itself identical with the concept
[der
Begriff]”
(WL, 6:486/774). Further, insofar as biological normativity is
relative to the species, this is one case of Hegel’s general position that
where something ought to be X this is determined by its concept or
Begriff. I take Hegel’s claim for
the importance of such an objective concept or
Begriff to be crucial throughout
his metaphysics.
But to see the extent of Hegel’s metaphysical ambitions, we also need to
consider the worry that Hegel’s compatibilism would allow underlying
non-teleological explanation to be ultimate or fundamental, thus preempting
and rendering superfluous teleological explanation. Hegel will argue, by
contrast, that law-governed lower levels of reality are of less explanatory
relevance than higher teleological levels, preventing any preemption. One
contemporary way of working towards Hegel’s distinctive position here would
begin with a famous scene in Molière. The character Argan is asked why opium
puts us to sleep, and he responds that opium has a dormitive virtue or
power. Fortunately, we can nowadays do more to explain here. Imagine for the
moment that we could go so far as to explain the phenomena in terms of the
arrangement of the underlying electrons and protons in opium. It is natural
to think that some such underlying story has all of the explanatory
relevance, leaving Argan’s laughable story with none. But now consider
drawing the conclusion that any
appeal to a supposed natural kind of thing and its supposed dispositions or
powers must always be preempted, and can never
be
itself of any explanatory relevance. One problem is that even our new
underlying explanation in terms of protons and electrons cannot be any
different on this score: we explain in terms of powers of attraction between
unlike charges, or the like. And there is no hope of science discovering any
explanations different in kind on this score. For science can only learn
about whatever there is to things in virtue of which they affect one another
and ultimately our observations. As Blackburn puts it,
“any
conceivable improvement in science will give us only a better pattern of
dispositions and powers.” So if we hold that powers and dispositions of general
kinds of things are always explanatorily irrelevant, then either we must
always remain ignorant of the real explanations of things, or else nothing
ever happens for any reason at all.
Having noted the general problem from a contemporary perspective, we can now
approach Hegel’s view: We are tempted to go astray by thinking that
scientific talk of low-level nature is akin
to
talk about hidden physical objects, which can end a regress of
why-questions by explaining everything by appeal to something like the
seemingly self-evident manner that a billiard ball’s impact affects another.
We are tempted, Hegel says, to give “a physical meaning of
independent forces” (EN
§270A)
to the results of the sciences. But Hegel argues that the truth is quite
otherwise. Consider Hegel’s account of “chemism,” by which he means not
chemistry specifically but any lower-level lawfully interacting substances
(WL 6:429/727). What science tells us about such kinds of things is how they
interact with others—their dispositions and powers. To take this seriously
is to hold that what such a thing is will be merely dependent on what it
interacts with and how—it “is not comprehensible from itself alone, and the
being of one is the being of the other” (WL 6:430/728). When we seek to
understand such a lawful physical thing, and why it does what it does, it
“gets lost” in relations, or a regress of dependence; it “becomes something
else than it is empirically, confuses cognition” (PhG
3:190/149). So we expect to find a sort of ultimate independence or
substance in lawful nature, and we find only dependence and a kind of lack
of substantiality.
Part of the point of Hegel’s account of life is that living beings are
higher-level phenomena that have
exactly the sort of independence or substance that goes missing on the lower
law-governed levels of nature. For example, why does an elm have its leaves
and so power to take in energy? Here we do not “get lost” in a regress of
dependence. The answer is not that sunlight has disposition to be caught,
and so on. For the elm has leaves and its capacities because of
something about the elm itself:
because of its intrinsic end or goal of self-preservation. This intrinsic
end or Zweck is supposed to allow
the nature of an organism to be manifest in the determinate way that it
relates to the environment, yet without its nature merely getting lost in
relations with others. An organism, by contrast, is “the real
End
[Zweck]
itself
[…]
it preserves itself in the
relation to an other” (PhG
3:198/156).
So we can explain what happens in terms of the elm’s power to take in energy
and thereby to preserve itself. And such teleological explanations of living
beings have a kind of greater
explanatory relevance than lower-level lawful explanations.
But what is
really surprising here is that a
living being will be more substantial, in the above sense,
than even the lower-level law-governed
stuff of which it is composed and on which it, in a sense, depends. The
downward dependence does not in any way lesson the greater explanatory force
of the higher-level teleological phenomena. For what is depended on is, in a
sense, a matter of indifference. A tiger, for example, is dependent
in that it could not exist without the existence of the underlying stuff of
which it is composed. But there is also a sense in which the natures of the
underlying stuffs are a matter of indifference. The tiger’s claws could be
made out of other chemical substances. And if they were, then those other
substances would be present in virtue of the way they contribute to the end
of self-preservation. So there is here an independent or immediate
explanatory force that is not undercut by its dependence on or mediation by
something underlying—life has a kind of mediated immediacy, in Hegelian
terms. And there should be no
question of preemption by something more fundamental below.
In sum, Hegel’s position on teleology and life is not as inflationary as
Kant’s. Nor does it involve a claim that matter can somehow represent
concepts and organize itself in accordance. But this is not to say that
Hegel’s view blandly seeks comfort in a lack of surprising or far-reaching
metaphysical claims. On the contrary, Hegel’s compatibilism is part of an
ambitious project of arguing for the importance of objective concepts, and
for a metaphysical priority of higher-level teleology over lower-level
necessity.
Conclusion
Before coming to an end, it is worth casting a brief
glance again back at debates about free will. With respect to the
philosophical issues, Hegel’s distinctive metaphysics suggests some
possibilities worth pursuing. Probably the most prominent argument today
against our having free will or being morally responsible turns on the claim
that, given what we know about the laws of nature, none of us can be an
“ultimate source” of what we do.
It would be worth investigating the force of the Hegel-inspired reply that
our knowledge of the laws of nature cannot possibly suggest any competing
“ultimate source” for our behavior—for everything within lawful nature,
Hegel argues, is merely dependent. Perhaps this reply would support an
argument that our own lack of ultimate sourcehood does not count against our
being responsible for what we do unless there was reason to expect some
other, competing ultimate source.
With respect to Hegel’s own account of free will, this
is a difficult and complex topic, to say the least. But here too debate
tends to cluster toward extreme possibilities. On the one hand, some worry
that Hegel treats the topic of free will in terms of his general
metaphysics, in which the defense of natural teleology plays a large role.
The worry is that this will suggest that having free will is just accepting
one’s place and role within and subordinated to the ends of a larger
organism that is all of reality. On the other hand, the way to escape such a
reading can seem to be a purely deflationary interpretation, on which Hegel
attempts to reject narrowly causal theories of freedom, and this is supposed
to render moot all traditional metaphysical problems about freedom, leaving
a kind of free will supposed to be independent of any implications about
what really produces or brings about or is responsible for my behavior. But
our results here suggest that there is a neglected and more attractive
possibility. Hegel advocates a metaphysics that is compatibilist, defending
the distinctness and explanatory priority of higher levels of reality over
lower—even while recognizing a sense in which higher levels depend on the
lower levels. So we should expect Hegel to have a similar metaphysical
approach to our freedom, not a purely deflationary one. True, we should
expect Hegel to recognize a kind of dependence of our freedom on life—to
hold, for example, that the purposive action of embodied beings is possible
only insofar as there are natural teleological systems, or life. But we
should also expect him to argue that this sort of dependence does not
collapse freedom into life or anything natural. On the contrary, we should
expect Hegel to argue that free beings have a sort of responsibility for
what they do that contrasts with anything on any lower level below. So
freedom should depend on nature, but in a way that leaves it also
independent—it too should have a form of mediated immediacy. We should not,
then, expect Hegel’s account of freedom to be independent of metaphysics.
Rather, we should expect it to complete the metaphysics on which the highest
levels manifest the greatest independence or freedom.
But free will itself is a topic that will have to wait
for another day. The aim of my argument here has been to use familiar
features of debates about free will in order to clarify the underlying
issues concerning teleology and life at stake between Kant and Hegel. Once
we understand these issues correctly, we can see how they demand a certain
structure from Kant’s argument and Hegel’s rejoinder. We can then understand
both the considerable philosophical force of Kant’s argument, and also how
it nonetheless opens itself to a powerful Hegelian rejoinder. The arguments
on both sides here remain of considerable philosophical force and interest,
despite the incredible subsequent progress in the biological sciences. So
understanding the arguments in Kant and Hegel can still help us to better
understand the underlying philosophical issues concerning teleology and
life.
For feedback and helpful discussion on this material and other work
in this area, I want to thank Fred Beiser, Richard Boyd, Paul
Hurley, Thomas Khurana, Daniel Moerner, Dean Moyar, and Peter
Thielke. I have used and modified in this work some parts of
my
essay
“The Logic of Life:
Hegel's Philosophical Defense of Teleological Explanation of Living
Beings,” in: Frederick C. Beiser (ed.),
The Cambridge Companion to
Hegel and Nineteenth-Century Philosophy, Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press
2008,
pp. 344–377.
See e.g.
Richard Holton, “Review
of The Illusion of Conscious
Will by Daniel Wegner,”
Mind
113:449
(2004),
pp.
218–21.
James Kreines, “The Inexplicability of Kant's Naturzweck: Kant on
Teleology, Explanation and Biology,”
Archiv für Geschichte der
Philosophie 87:3
(2005), pp. 270–311.
Clark Zumbach,
The Transcendent Science. Kant’s Conception of Biological
Methodology, The Hague: Nijhoff 1984, p. 19; see the similar
approach in John D. McFarland,
Kant’s Concept of Teleology, Edinburgh: University Press 1970,
p. 102 and Willem deVries, “The Dialectic of Teleology,”
Philosophical Topics 19:2
(1991), p. 53.
On this argument see also McFarland,
Kant’s Concept of Teleology,
p. 106, Rachel Zuckert,
Kant
on Beauty and Biology.
An
Interpretation of the “Critique of Judgment”,
Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press
2007,
ch. 2,
and Paul Guyer, “Organisms and the Unity of Science,” in: E. Watkins
(ed.), Kant and the Sciences,
Oxford: Oxford University
Press 2001, p. 265.
See McFarland, Kant’s Concept
of Teleology,
p. 106.
I am greatly indebted to Thomas Khurana’s comments on the whole, but
especially those that prompted the addition of this paragraph.
That there cannot be a Newton for a blade of grass is a point meant
to leave open the possibility that organisms really originate in
“mere mechanism” (KU 5:400). But limitations of what it is possible
for “humans” to “grasp” leave us needing the
heuristic guidance of
teleology if we are to make progress.
See Robert
C.
Cummins, “Functional Analysis,”
Journal of Philosophy 72:20
(1975), pp. 741–765.
See
Ruth
G.
Millikan, Language, Thought
and other Biological Categories,
Cambridge: MIT Press
1984;
Karen
Neander, “The Teleological Notion of ‘Function’,”
Australasian Journal of
Philosophy 69:4
(1991),
pp. 454–468.
See e.g.
Robert C. Cummins, “Neo-teleology,”
in:
Andrew Ariew, Robert Cummins, Mark Perlman
(eds.),
Functions: New Essays in the Philosophy of Psychology and Biology,
Oxford: Oxford University Press 2002 pp. 157–173.
See
also EL §55A
and WL 4:440-1/737.
See
Kreines, “The Logic of Life.”
See e.g. Derek Pereboom,
Living Without Free Will,
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 2001.
E.g. deVries, “The Dialectic of Teleology,” p. 56.
E.g. WL 6:486/774; EL §221;
EN
§367ff; VL 213.
I thank Richard Boyd for comments
throughout, and especially on this point.
Michael Thompson (see Michael Thompson, “The
Representation of Life,” in: eds. Rosalind Hursthouse, Gavin
Lawrence, Warren Quinn (eds.),
Virtues and Reasons: Philippa Foot and Moral Theory,
Oxford: Oxford University Press 1991, pp.
247–296) also stresses the importance of the role of an organism in
a species. If I understand him, our claims are similar in this
respect but the philosophy different. I am
defending Kant’s challenge: on my view, accounts in this
neighborhood fail, like the purely deflationary account, if they do
not both (i) distinguish the questions about the analysis of natural
teleology from questions about living beings, and (ii) resolve
Kant’s problem concerning the need in a teleological system for the
role of the parts to explain their existence and form. I am
defending Hegel insofar as I think he recognizes the inescapable
problem; what he argues is that attention to species resolves it. As
far as I can see, Thompson doesn’t address that particular problem
about natural teleology; what he argues that reference to the
species is necessary to answer a different question, about
living beings or the form
of description appropriate to them.
See
also WL 2:419-20/766;
EN
§350Z.
Ruth
G. Millikan,
White Queen Psychology and Other Essays for Alice,
Cambridge: MIT Press 1993, p.
41.
See e.g.
Cummins, “Neo-Teleology.”
For accounts
of
monism and teleology in Hegel, see for example Rolf-Peter Horstmann,
Die Grenzen der Vernunft.
Eine Untersuchung zu Zielen und Motiven des Deutschen
Idealismus, Frankfurt
a.M.: Anton Hain 1991, pp. 177–82 and Frederick C. Beiser,
Hegel, New York: Routledge 2005, chs. 3–4.
McTaggart notices the tension between “Life” and organic monism, but
takes Hegel to be trying to support organic monism but doing a very
poor job of it given the tension (John McTaggart,
A Commentary on Hegel's Logic,
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1910, pp. 275–6).
On “objective concept,” see, for example, WL 6:271/597.
On this theme in Hegel’s broader metaphysics, see
my “Hegel:
Metaphysics Without Pre-Critical Monism,”
Bulletin of the Hegel Society
of Great Britain 57/58 (2008), pp. 48–70.
Simon B. Blackburn, “Filling in Space,”
Analysis 50:2
(1990),
pp.
62–65,
here
p.
63.
E.g. Pereboom, Living Without
Free Will.
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