Crusius, Christian August: Road to certainty and reliability – Oppositions

Crusius moves from subordination – connection of concepts – to their distinction. Two concepts are distinct, he explains, when at least in one of the concepts is found something that cannot be said of the other. This means, Crusius adds, that some type of subordination cannot be found between them.

Distinction as such is not a very interesting notion, Crusius thinks, because types of distinction correspond simply with types of subordination, and furthermore, we can quite easily recognise distinct concepts through internal sense. A more important type of distinction, he says, is opposition, where the existence of one side of the opposition in a certain concept or subject prevents as such or in some measure the existence of the other side. Of opposition, Crusius adds, the most important kinds are the logical and the causal opposition.

The notion of logical opposition, Crusius begins, is based on the notion of logical subordination, where one concept comprehends all the individuals comprehended by another. On the basis of it, we can first define complete logical distinction or diversity, which means, he explains, that no individual comprehended in one concept is comprehended in the other, in other words, both concepts contain some positive or negative determination not contained in the other. If you are wondering, there is also partial logical distinction, which means that there are some individuals of one concept not comprehended under another, but this is not nearly as interesting a relation.

Complete logical diversity can be merely accidental, Crusius notes, if the diversity is caused only by the concepts being formed with different types of abstraction. Thus, he adds, concepts of human and understanding are completely logically diverse, but only because the concept of human is generated by logical abstraction, but the concept of understanding through metaphysical and qualitative abstraction. Then again, if we add the notion of subject to the latter – that is, if we think of something with understanding – we make the two concepts subordinated, because human is something with understanding. On the other hand, concepts of human and stone are completely logically diverse by themselves.

What is completely logically diverse, Crusius points out, might still not be opposed, which still requires that the concepts exclude one another in the same subject. Thus, understanding and will are completely logically diverse, but not opposed, because they can occur in the same subject.

Crusius divides oppositions into logical and real oppositions. Logical opposites exclude one another only in regard to a common concept or genus, so that an individual of this genus can belong only to one of the opposites, even if these opposites can occur at the same time in the same subject: thus, understanding and will can be called logical opposites, because the force that is understanding cannot be will, although a substance that has understanding can have also will. Real opposites, on the other hand, exclude one another from the same substance, like virtue and vice. An even stronger notion is what Crusius calls disparity, where the opposites cannot exist in the same subject even after one another: thus, eternal and contingent are disparate concepts, because what is at some point eterna can never be contingent.

Crusius states that oppositions can also be divided into those between contradictories and those between contraries. Contradictories come always in pairs, he explains, so that always one of them must hold, while the other is negated, like triangle and not-triangle. All other oppositions are those between contraries, Crusius continues, where the contrary opposite might be a partial or determined negation of a concept, like not-angled compared to triangle, or it might posit some substantial determination that excludes the concept in question, like circle compared to triangle. Contraries can thus be positive or negative and there can be more than two of them.

Crusius goes into more detail with the characteristics of contraries. He notes that they can be recognised as opposite either through senses, like sweet and sour, or from their abstract concepts, like virtue and vice. Furthermore, Crusius says, contraries can be merely comparative, where their distinction is based merely on different levels, such as fast and slow movement, but they can be also absolute contraries, so that their distinction is not just gradual, but a certain quality is cancelled through another, like with virtue and vice.  Finally, Crusius divides contraries also in complete or perfect contraries, where one cancels all the properties of the other, like living and lifeless do, and into partial or imperfect contraries, which are opposed only in relation to certain properties, but have many other properties in common, like waking and dreaming.

Moving on to causal opposition, Crusius begins by noting that it could mean that it is impossible that a certain effect would be caused by a certain cause. Then again, he adds, it could also mean that we are speaking of two kinds of activities of certain causes and we know that one hinders the other and cancels it completely or partially or at least modifies it. In both cases, he continues, one can speak either of causes or grounds of physical existence, like warmth and cold oppose one another, or of grounds of moral existence, such as laws conflicting one another. When we are speaking of causal opposites that hinder or modify one another, this might happen through activity, like in case of a collision between two movements, or then they might just prevent some condition of the other, like when our body hinders the consciousness of our own soul.

Crusius, Christian August: Road to certainty and reliability – Causal subordination

The other type of absolute subordination, according to Crusius, is causal subordination, where one thing, called ground, principle, reason or cause, either generates or enables another one, known as effect. The main theme in his writings about this notion is that earlier philosophers – especially Wolffians – had failed to recognise that there are many types of causal subordination and many types of grounds.

Firstly, Crusius begins, a ground can be a real ground, which is a principle of being or becoming: in other words, a real ground generates or enables something outside our thoughts. Such real grounds can be active or efficient causes that cause something through an active force, just like fire burns because it has a force to burn things. Then again, Crusius adds, a real ground can also be an existential ground that makes something else possible, impossible or necessary just by its own existence, without any active force, just like a signet impresses a certain figure just because it is shaped in a certain manner. He notes that in some cases an existential ground has no active force, for instance, when two sides and an angle determine the length of the third side of the triangle. Sometimes an existential ground does have some force, but this just does not affect the respect, in which this something is an existential ground: for example, a flying ball has a force that moves it, but the shape it makes on the sand it hits is determined just by the figure of the ball.

It is then obvious that the same thing can be in one sense an efficient cause and in another sense an existential ground. Thus, Crusius notes, bodies are existential grounds when they determine something through their figure, although the movement enabling the body to be an existential ground is based on some efficient cause within or without the body. He suggests that the same is true of all other things, so that even most perfect activities are in some other sense existential grounds: for instance, holiness of God is an efficient cause, but as an existential ground it restricts the possibility to pardon sins.

Crusius thinks that there can be mere existential grounds, but without the help of efficient causes they cannot generate substances, thoughts, volitions or movement. With such mere existential grounds, the relation is reciprocal, he adds, so that in the case of a triangle we could take any two sides and angle between them and determine the third side from these. Crusius emphasises that this is not true of efficient causes, since we cannot say that e.g. world is the ground of God. In case of an existential ground, the ground and the grounded are necessarily present at the same time, but with an efficient cause, the effect must be generated later than its cause exists, although the cause cannot be regarded as cause, before the effect exists.

In addition to real grounds, Crusius continues, there are also ideal or cognitive grounds that generate in understanding knowledge of something and also conviction of this knowledge. These ideal grounds, he adds, can be a priori, so that through it one knows not just that, but also why something is so, or it can be a posteriori, through which one knows only that something is so.

Crusius points out that something can be in one sense an ideal ground and in another sense a real ground: thus, sometimes we can know from efficient causes their or we can know from existential grounds what they determine. Yet, he emphasises, not all ideal grounds are real grounds, while all real grounds are not sufficient ideal grounds. Hence, ideal and real grounds must be distinguished, and even if one ground would be both at the same time, the distinction would be important, because these two roles of the same ground work in different manners.

Whether ideal or real, Crusius goes on, it is either sufficient for what it is ground of or then it is insufficient. Sufficient efficient cause in particular, he adds, is either fully determined, so that it acts in a certain manner and not otherwise, it is free and not determined to act in a certain manner in all respects. From a fully determined efficient cause, Crusius thinks, it is possible to determine its effect according to all respects, hence, a fully determined efficient cause is also a sufficient ideal ground a priori of its activities and effects. Freely acting causes, on the other hand, can in Crusius’s opinion be only sufficient real grounds, but at least for a finite understanding they cannot be ideal ground. What then is an insufficient efficient cause like? According to Crusius, it either lacks the force to fully generate its effect, or in case of free causes, they don’t want to do it anymore, either because they previously chose a certain goal that they have rejected or because they have just freely changed their volition. 

Crusius also defined the closely related notions of an adequate and an inadequate cause. Adequate cause is a sufficient ground that in the given conditions could not cause anything further, except through what it caused – Crusius notes that this is true of all unfree causes. Inadequate cause, on the other hand, is either not sufficient for more than what is taken as its effect or then it does not want anything more. The example Crusius gives is God, who supposedly is a sufficient cause of the origin of the world, but not its adequate cause: God’s will is enough for generating the world, but God could have created so much more.

Crusius divides causes in general into more distant causes and closer causes – eventually there is also the closest cause, so that between it and the effect considered there are no other causes anymore. Similar notions of distance and closeness can be applied to effects also.

Crusius notes that the effect of a cause can be either absolute or relative. In the latter case, the effect is a change of some relation of a thing, but must be generated through some absolute change in some other thing. Thus, Crusius explains, the Sun causes in the summer an absolute effect by heating the atmosphere, but this increasing warmth causes only a relative effect in making a cellar colder than the air outside it, because the temperature of the cellar has not absolutely decreased.

Cause can be a cause in itself, Crusius states, so that this type of cause either always or at least regularly generates certain effect. It can also be an accidental cause, where only an accidental combination of circumstances leads the cause to produce the effect. Thus, Crusius explains, when a doctor gives to patient a regularly used medicine, this medicine is a cause in itself of curing the patient, even though it wouldn’t do it by itself. On the other hand, if the doctor happens to choose a wrong medicine and it still happens to be effective, the error is only an accidental cause of the patient being cured.

Crusius notes that a cause in itself can have different grades and it can be a cause in itself only for certain circumstances of the effect. One particular type of a cause in itself he mentions is what is called causa sine qua non, which is insufficient for generating an effect, but necessarily required for this. Yet, Crusius notes, this is not enough for calling something causa sine qua non: we should not take something as a cause in itself (and thus, not even as a causa sine qua non), if it is positively directed to generating or enabling a certain effect, but this same activity inseparably enables another effect, which the efficient cause has not wanted, but just was physically unable to hinder. The purpose behind this restriction is to show that God is not a causa sine qua non for sin: God made humans free, in order to enable moral virtue, and the possibility of sin was just a necessary concomitant. God could be called an accidental cause of sin, Crusius admits, but this does not incur any moral responsibility.

Crusius explains that if a thing is generated as an effect of certain causes, it does not follow that also its continued existence and its characteristics during its existence must depend from the same causes. Indeed, he emphasises, the continuing of a contingent thing requires at all moments a positive cause, thus, the survival of simple things requires divine conversation, and survival and characteristics of things dependent on simple things depends on the survival, characteristics and combination of them. These considerations lead Crusius to suggest some particular rules.

Firstly, when one is explaining an effect and searching for its sufficient ground, one must look for all three points and ask for the sufficient cause of the origin, continued existence and characteristics of the effect. Secondly, a true real or ideal ground of an effect might still be a sufficient ground for only one of these circumstances or even only for part of it. Thirdly, no finite substance in the world is a sufficient cause of an effect in respect of all the three circumstances, because the continued existence of the cause itself is dependent on many other causes that also have an influence on it. Fourthly, with regard to each circumstance should always be distinguished the causes of its possibility and actuality. Finally, with the enabling causes should again be studied which of them are active efficient causes and which are mere inactive existential grounds: for instance, lack of obstacles is an existential ground enabling self-improvement, while an active will to improve oneself is an efficient cause enabling it.

Causal relations depend ultimately, Crusius says, on substances that act on their own forces. These causes, he thinks, deserve to be called principal causes, while other causes are mere abstractions from principal causes. A principal cause, Crusius continues, is either matter or spirit. If it is matter, it is either a physical cause in the strict sense that causes its effect through an active moving force or it is a mechanical cause that determines its cause through the figure and position of its integral parts: thus, fire is a physical cause, while hammer is a mechanical cause. Crusius notes that all material effects involve both kinds of cause, because at least the figure of small particles influences the effect and a mere figure by itself could not have any effect without a moving force.

If a principal cause is a spirit, Crusius continues, it acts either through mere understanding or through will acting according to certain ideas. Furthermore, he says, its activity is either immanent, that is, affects only something within the spirit, or transient, that is, affects also something outside it. If the spirit in question is not free, Crusius calls it a spontaneously acting cause, and if it is free, he calls it a morally acting cause. Finally, he notes, even spiritual causes can be called physical in a more extended sense, so that any principal cause that is not mechanical would be physical.

Crusius goes through a list of causal abstractions, which are thus all separated from principal causes. First of these abstractions is a force, by which he means a property of some subject to make another thing possible. Such a force is either active force, attached to an efficient cause, or an inactive capacity, attached to a mere existential ground. When the force is actually generating something, Crusius explains, it is said to be in action. When the action generates something, the thing in which something is generated is called an object, which is then said to be in a state of passion. A passive object can be either completely passive or only partially passive and thus have its own internal activity, like a flame that changes its direction due to the effect of wind.

Because many principal causes and causal abstractions can be involved in the same causal relation, Crusius points out, we need terms to describe such an interaction of causes. Firstly, the causes can be coordinated, so that none of the causes can be regarded as more important than the others. Then again, Crusius adds, one of the causes can be a primary cause, because it contributes most to the effect. Other causes can then be called adjunct causes.

An important type of adjunct cause is that of subordinated or intermediate causes, by which Crusius means causes, through which another cause generates its effect. Such a subordinate cause might contribute something to the effect through its own force or it might be a mere condition enabling the effect. Furthermore, Crusius adds, it can act positively, generating circumstances, on which the effect depends on, or it can merely remove obstacles of the effect. Finally, the subordinate cause might be necessary for producing the effect, it might be a facilitating cause that regularly helps to produce the effect or it might be just a subsidiary cause that only occasionally helps the effect,

An important distinction under the subordinate causes is that between ministerial and instrumental causes. By a ministerial cause Crusius means a moral cause that is in its dignity not of a higher level than the cause using it: a primary example would be that of a ruler using their minister to make something happen. In the rare case of a minister using their ruler to do something, he adds, the ruler should not be called a ministerial cause, due to the ruler being of higher dignity, but a subordinate principal cause of the effect, which then forms a third possibility in addition to ministerial and instrumental causes. An instrumental cause, Crusius explains, is a subordinate cause that is not a moral cause. It can be active, like light, or passive, like a pen.

Another important type of adjunct cause is an impulsive cause that spurs another cause into activity. Such an impulsive cause can be merely material, so that its movement makes another material force active, or it is ideal, so that its activity involves a substance acting according to some ideas. An ideal impulsive cause, Crusius explains, can be itself a spirit, say, when a soul puts body in action, or it can be an impulsive cause in the strict sense, that is, when it puts some spirit in action, like when a spur makes a horse run. Such an impulsive cause in the strict sense can be either internal or external to the spirit in question. Furthermore, its effect on the spirit can happen through moral means, like when a speaker motivates someone to a decision, or it can act through ideas, but without generating a free activity, such as when certain sensations in the body make us sad. Crusius also calls the former sort of impulsive cause a moral cause, in distinction from any other efficient cause that he then calls a physically efficient cause.

Morally acting causes involve their own particular causal abstracts, Crusius notes. Such a cause strives toward some purpose or goal and uses some means, if the obtaining of the goal is not immediately in their own power. If morally acting causes have reason, striving toward a goal happens with decision and consciousness. Indeed, Crusius says, in a more strict sense only reasoning spirits have purposes and goals Such a spirit thinks about its purpose or goal before the means, but reaches the means before the goal.

Crusius distinguishes between different senses of the term purpose. Firstly, it can refer to a subjective purpose, which is a need felt by an active spirit. Secondly, it can refer to an objective purpose, which is the representation of the object that is needed. Finally, it can refer to a formal purpose, which is a relation of the object toward the spirit that desires it.

Purposes form series, Crusius points out, so that it is possible to distinguish between closer and more remote purposes. Particularly a purpose can be the highest or final purpose, while other purposes are intermediate in relation to it. All of these purposes, Crusius adds, are also impulsive causes for what the spirit does because of them: particularly a higher cause is an impulsive cause for lower purposes. Still, he adds, the concept of purpose still differs from that of impulsive cause, because there are other impulsive causes that do not act as purposes, but merely af efficient causes generating some need in the spirit. An example of such an impulsive cause, Crusius suggests, would be good works that spur one to love a person, although these good works are not the purpose or goal of the love (at least if the love in question is pure).

Crusius proceeds to divide the notion of means. Firstly, he says, we can distinguish between material means, that is, the particular intermediate cause the acting spirit uses for achieving some purpose, and formal means, that is, the way in which the acting spirit uses the material means. Crusius also emphasises that all intermediate causes are not means: for instance, when a wind rises during a battle, making smoke and dust fly into the face of the enemy, the wind is an intermediate cause of one’s victory, but not means to it, unless the circumstance is consciously taken advantage of.

Just like all intermediate causes, means can also be divided into those that generate the effect wholly or partially through their own force (Crusius calls these causative means) and those that are mere conditions required for generating the purpose: for instance, a motivational speech used by a leader to drive their army to battle is causative means, while the necessary equipment provided by the leader are mere conditions. Crusius notes that in the case of purposes with God as their efficient cause, created spirits are always at most conditions and not causative means, but it just makes the perfection of God more apparent, when no causative means are required.

Crusius thinks to have shown in his practical philosoy that the choice of purposes and means is regulated, on the one hand, by prudential obligations derived from the nature of purposes themselves, and on the other hand, by obligations legislated by the divine will. These rules then define the limits of what Crusius calls moral possibility (that something may happen), moral existence (that something should happen) and moral impossibility (that something should not happen). All of these characteristics, he adds, have their real and ideal grounds, thus, grounds in general could be divided into the grounds of physical and the grounds of moral possibility and actuality. These two types should not be confused, Crusius warns: a cause motivating us to do something is not by itself a ground obligating us to do something.

Crusius, Christian August: Road to certainty and reliability – Existential subordination

Crusius divides existential subordination into five classes, corresponding to kinds of abstraction. Firstly, he says, we have external subordination, where one idea or concept is externally abstracted from the other, like a place where a person lives is abstracted from that person. Secondly, we have metaphysical subordination, where an abstraction subsists in something concrete, like a figure in a body. Thirdly, we have mathematical subordination where an abstraction relates to something concrete as its integral part, being either continuous or discrete quantity, like 10 is a part of 100. Fourthly, we have a qualitative or physical subordination, where an abstraction relates to something concrete as a part that is not regarded as a magnitude or figure, but as a substance or a physical quality. Finally, we have logical subordination, where one individual is comprehended under another, like a human is related to a substance.

Crusius takes a closer look at logical subordination, because all other cases of existential subordination can be turned into logical subordination. Thus, he says, one should investigate whether logical subordination is such in itself or only contingently: for instance, when we say “human has a head”, this is not a case of logical subordination, but we can turn it into a logical subordination by saying “human is something that has a head”. Furthermore, Crusius is adamant that the difference of various kinds of subordination is important and therefore other kinds should not be transformed into logical subordinations: if I say that a soul has an understanding (metaphysical subordination), I do not mean that soul is an understanding (which would be logical subordination, if it were true).

What the elements of logical subordination or logical abstractions are, Crusius explains, is representations of a set of individuals ignoring their individuality and showing them as similar: in other words, they are names of similar individuals. Such a logical abstraction, he adds, does not designate only a part of a concrete individual, but the whole individual. Furthermore, although only a part of its properties is selected to designate the whole, these properties are not regarded as independent, but as attached to a subject: for instance, Crusius suggests, in a concept of a scholar one thinks of a subject according to a certain quality, but when I say scholarship, I regard the same quality in abstraction from any individual subject. Hence, I can say that many people are scholars, but not that they are scholarships.

Crusius notes that logical abstraction can be regarded in two ways. Firstly, it can be regarded essentially or materially in regard to its essential content, that is, in regard to ideas thought under it. Secondly, Crusius adds, it can be regarded in relation to extension, that is, in regard to the set of individuals, which can be named by it. The more extensive a logical abstraction becomes, the less ideas one thinks in it, since otherwise it couldn’t name so many things that are dissimilar in many respects.

Logical subordinates, Crusius continues, either comprehend all individuals belonging to each other or then one or the other is more extensive than the other. In the latter case, he continues, the more extensive is called genus, while the other must then be species. A genus, Crusius divides, is either an essential genus by itself or contingent genus by accident. In the first case, all individuals subordinated to the genus belong to it essentially, even when regarded without particular purpose, as when substance is a genus of humans. In the second case, he compares, some contingent property is chosen arbitrarily and changed into a genus: for instance, when I say that all scholars are either sick or healthy, this does not mean that all sick people would be scholars, but only that sick individuals known to be scholars are scholars.

Crusius goes on making distinctions by noting that a genus is either a distant one, where there is always a possibility for an even closer genus, or a closest or proximate genus, where there isn’t such a possibility. Since the series of distant genera cannot be infinite, Crusius argues, there must also be the highest genus (thing in the most extensive sense of the word), and in relation to it all others are middle or subaltern genera.

Genus can be either a pure or an impure abstraction, Crusius muses. Furthermore, it is either homogenous or heterogeneous concept. A homogenous concept belongs to all its species or individuals in a completely same sense, for instance, human is animal in the same sense as dog, because both have body and soul. A heterogenous concept, on the other hand, does not belong to all its species or individuals in a completely same sense. Thus, although a certain similar part of concept might be a reason why the concept belongs to species or individuals, some species or individuals might add new circumstances and modifications of the same general concept: for instance, snowing in winter is said to be possible because of natural causes, but golden mountain is said to be possible, because it contains nothing contradictory.

Crusius notes that what holds of a genus, must hold also of species and individuals under it. He makes this statement more accurate by noting that its message concerns actually just pure genera: others it concerns only under the conditions, in which they are genera. Crusius also insists that before applying heterogenous genera to some individuals, these genera should be divided and their heterogeneity should be recognised, because otherwise one could apply to some of its individuals what could be said only of others – for instance, golden mountains could be called possible without explaining what type of possibility is meant.

Species is generated from a genus by adding an accident to the concept of genus. This accident, Crusius explains, can be either something that is in itself a determination, like the sameness of all sides in a triangle, or something that is made contingently into it, like clothes in a human being. The accident in question, Crusius continues, can be something that is found in all individuals belonging to it, like reason in a soul, or it is an external abstract, like time.

Crusius divides accidents into proper and common accidents. A proper accident does not belong to all existing individuals generally or at all times, but still cannot belong to individuals or species under other genera: in this sense, Crusius insists, virtue is a proper accident of entities with reason. A common accident, on the other hand, can also belong to individuals of other genus, just like being sick is a common accident of humans, because other beings beyond humans might be sick.

When a species is made by adding an accident to a genus, Crusius explains, either to each species is added another positive accident (say, when thinking and moving are suggested as species under the concept of action) or it is added only to one, while others are assumed to lack it, just like in the case of passive and active matter.

Crusius notes finally that an accident might imply in individuals no other difference but such that consists only in another state of the essence and depends on the different grade and direction of its forces and on the different relations of things toward another. He calls such an accident natural, because nature itself has made it into an accident, like speed or slowness of movement. On the other hand, Crusius points out, the accident might not be enough for distinguishing subordinated things: this he calls an arbitrary accident.