Crusius, Christian August: Road to certainty and reliability – What understanding can do

Crusius defines understanding in the wide sense of the word as any ability of a substance to have ideas. In finite spirits, he explains, understanding consists of many fundamental capacities, thus, understanding is the sum of such capacities, by which a finite spirit represents something. Crusius notes that we also have a more restricted notion of understanding, which refers only to higher capacities of understanding that has achieved the level of reason.

Reason Crusius explains to mean such a grade of perfection of understanding that is it is capable of consciously knowing truth as truth. In finite spirits this means such a sum of cognitive capacities that enable conscious knowledge of truth. Crusius notes that we can speak of reason in another sense, as a sum of truths that can be known through the power of reason in the first sense, just from the consideration of natural things.

Reason in both senses, Crusius explains, can be regarded concretely, as it is found in a certain individual, or abstractly, when its essence is regarded in itself and the subjective conditions of particular persons are ignored. Thus, we get four different meanings for the word reason. Firstly, we have a concrete capacity of reason found in a particular subject. Secondly, we have the abstract human reason, which means the sum of essential capacities of human understanding in general, together with the effects that these capacities enable in themselves. Thirdly, we have the concrete sum of reasonable truths, known and considered as reasonable truths by a particular subject. Finally, we have the abstract sum of truths that can be known from the consideration of natural things through experience and correct deductions. Crusius notes that part of the truths included in the final sense of the reason might still be unknown to all humans, due to insufficient sensations and deductions.

The opinion of Crusius is that the first fundamental capacities of human understanding cannot be discovered, thus, that we can only distinguish capacities dependent on and derived from these fundamental capacities, as distinctly and in as orderly fashion as possible, and show how these derived capacities follow one another or receive new determinations through their use. Hence, he suggests as his next task to find the least complex cognitive capacities that we can know. These capacities Crusius will then call the main cognitive capacities and he will derive from them more complex capacities.

Crusius takes as the first main cognitive capacity sensing (Empfindung), which he defines as a state where understanding is immediately necessitated to think of a certain object as existing and present, so that the presentation of this thing is not first generated from other concepts through a deduction. Due to this immediacy, he explains, ideas of sensing or sensations are much livelier than others. Distinct sensations, Crusius states, engage understanding fully, and when we are dreaming, our representations are not distinct enough so that liveliest of them are confused with sensations, until we wake up.

Crusius divides sensing into external and internal sensing. In external sensing, he explains, we sense something that we represent as being outside the soul, while in internal sensing, we sense something that we represent as in our soul. Crusius identifies internal sensing also with the capacity of being conscious. Through internal sensing, he points out, we sense that we think, parts, properties and relations of our concepts, and certain activities and conditions of our will. Internal sensing does not then involve anything that happens in our body, which Crusius takes to be a type of external sensation. He also differentiates sensation from perception, which means either any representation at all or then a condition of understanding where representation becomes lively or we start to become conscious of it.

Both external and internal sensing, Crusius tells us, direct themselves in accordance with certain conditions of our body and are connected with certain changes in it, which is one reason why we know our body before others. External sensations correspond to certain organs in our body, and as long as the organs are in good condition, the sensations appear when the present objects cause changes in these organs. Thus, Crusius argues, not just the possibility and actuality, but also the characteristics of external sensations correspond positively to certain conditions in our body.

On the other hand, Crusius insists, characteristics of internal sensations do not follow the body, but their possibility and actuality and the reason for their ease and liveliness are negatively connected to conditions of the body. In other words, when our body is in bad condition, our internal sensations might be hindered. Crusius explains that for this reason babies and old people cannot think well and violent movement of bodily humours can hinder our thinking. Still, he says, because conditions of bodies can be only movements and representations are not movements, conditions of our bodies are not causes of representations.

Since causal relations cannot be sensed, Crusius explains, experience cannot tell generally what is the reason for the constant conjunction of changes in the body and changes in the understanding. He is still adamant that we need not assume an occasionalist explanation for this conjunction. Indeed, Crusius is very much against the idea, since occasionalism would make God the originator of sin and because it is connected with what he takes as a ridiculous hypothesis that animals are mere machines.

Crusius is equally critical of the Leibnizian idea of pre-established harmony. Indeed, he suggests that metaphysics has shown that matter and finite spirits must necessarily truly affect one another, because otherwise the existence of the world would have no purpose. Furthermore, Crusius thinks that mere mechanical structure of the body can only enable, but not cause certain movements in our bodies. He also finds it problematic that pre-established harmony would mean that the soul will fall into eternal sleep, after its body has been destroyed, unless it somehow gains a new body.

After all these considerations, Crusius is certain that there occurs some real interaction between soul and body and that this interaction at least enables sensation. Still, he notes that it is not the case of movements affecting our sense organs changing directly into ideas of soul, since ideas are spiritual activities, not physical movements. Furthermore, Crusius is convinced that sensations – or ideas in general – are not outside our soul nor things between substances and accidents that we just observe.

Crusius begins his own explanation of the interaction by noting that we can observe sensations directing themselves according to certain states of body. He has also argued in his metaphysical writings that souls can move, which explains the possibility of matter and soul interacting. Bodily movements cannot directly generate sensations, Crusius thinks, because then the effect would be more perfect than the cause. Similarly, he suggests, an idea cannot be the closest nor sufficient cause of motion, because an idea contains only activity for representing something in understanding and does not by itself enable activity outside the soul. Crusius concludes that when an idea seems to follow bodily motion, this motion is a condition, the presence of which enables an idea to be generated through a mental activity. When a bodily motion appears to follow an idea, this motion must be generated as an additional state from the effect of a mental activity caused by the idea.

With the particular case of external sensing, Crusius determines further, movement in the organs of external sense causes a movement in the substance of soul through stirring of nerve fluid, because movement can only cause movements. This movement in the soul is then a condition for activation of some mental capacities that are true effective causes of representation. Crusius explains that we cannot further determine this process, since we are unable to sense what is simple and even the smallest organic parts of sense organs are still greater than the fluid matter in nerves and the smallest movements of its parts. In addition, he states, deductions can at most convince us of the existence of this process, but not reveal its further characteristics. In any case, Crusius thinks, laws of external sensation are contingent, and God could have provided us with very different sense organs: more perfect spirits follow more perfect laws of sensation.

In case of internal sensing, Crusius adds, the process is somewhat different. When the soul consciously thinks, it posits its own substance in movement. In other words, Crusius explains, the mental activity generating our consciousness is combined with another that causes a certain movement of the substance of the soul. This movement should be able to push away the matter surrounding our soul, and if this isn’t so, our consciousness can be completely or partially hindered. Determined characteristics of this movement cannot be known, Crusius notes, but its effects can be felt on our foreheads.

Crusius answers the objection that so many motions of the soul could not all co-exist with the assumption that these movements are quick like lightning. He also counters the objection that the soul should have unnaturally precise knowledge of the direction of these movements, in order to not be mistaken of them, by suggesting that it is not absurd to ascribe to soul ideas of all the motions it produces in the body. The soul is not just conscious of them: every soul must have an idea about its body, in order to be alive, but consciousness requires further conditions and need not be connected with all ideas.

Sensing, Crusius thinks, is our first and original cognitive capacity, providing a basis for all our thoughts: we are combined with a world and form a part of it and this combination happens through our own body, so that the activity of our thoughts must be combined with the movement of matter in and through our body. On the contrary, he adds, God requires no such conditions and hence perceives things in a completely different manner. Indeed, Crusius insists, God could create beings that did not need sensations for thinking and the Bible suggests we will have such cognition in the next life.

The second main capacity of understanding Crusius mentions is memory or the capacity to continue having ideas that have already existed. In other words, memory either retains for a while the original vividness of ideas, or after this vividness has diminished, reproduces it wholly or partially under certain conditions. We need memory, Crusius explains, because otherwise we couldn’t use our ideas further: we know only as much as we have in our memory.

From memory and internal sensing, Crusius notes, is generated our capacity to recollect or to recognise that an idea is the same as the one we had earlier. This recollection requires memory, so that we can have earlier ideas, and internal sensing, so that we are conscious that an idea is the same as earlier. Crusius is careful to distinguish this human power of recollection from the general capacity of memory that makes an idea lively also in the absence of its object and thus makes an animal having this idea act like the object would be present. Because internal sensing requires bodily efforts, he adds, recollection also requires bodily efforts.

Crusius explains that we need not assume any special fundamental force behind our capacity of memory: every idea is an activity with a certain grade of strength and duration, and just like in physics movement tends to continue, if nothing hinders it, same holds of ideas as mental activities. Still, Crusius emphasises, since we do not know the ultimate constituents of mental activities, we cannot say whether memory is based on just one or many fundamental forces.

Third main capacity of understanding, Crusius says, is judgement or the capacity to use one’s thoughts for the purpose of evaluating what is true and false. Judging presupposes sensation and memory, he notes, but also a capacity to distinguish one idea from another. Judgement could then be taken also as a capacity for making division of ideas. Through such a division, Crusius explains, a part or condition of an idea is regarded by itself in its isolation and differing from others. In other words, it involves abstracting, that is, isolating a concept in thoughts from another, in which it is contained or to which it is connected, and regarding it by itself. Abstraction does not destroy the whole, Crusius points out, but merely highlights some aspect of it.

Abstraction does not work in isolation, when judging, but only in connection with internal sensing or consciousness. Thus, Crusius explains, if the effects of judgement lack a sufficient grade of consciousness, understanding cannot make use of it: it doubts and does not make decisions. Furthermore, he adds, because irrational animals do not have consciousness, they cannot make judgements, even if they would have as fine ideas as humans. Finally, Crusius notes, because internal sensing can make our body exhausted, it is understandable that a really concentrated judicious meditation meddles with the force of our body.

Crusius divides abstraction into causal abstraction, which differentiates thing generating or enabling from thing generated or enabled, and existential abstraction, which differentiates things, which are together or follow one another without one generating or enabling the other. Furthermore, he divides existential abstraction into logical abstraction, which starts from individuals, but ignores individuality in thoughts, generating a universal concept (e.g. abstracting a concept of human in general from individual humans), external abstraction, which separates something from its external conditions or relations (e.g. abstracting a place and time from a human being), metaphysical abstraction, which distinguishes characteristic from its subject, (e.g. abstracting humanity from a human being), mathematical abstraction, which differentiates manifold into integral parts (e.g. dividing body into two parts) and physical abstraction, which differentiates manifold into non-integral parts (e.g. dividing soul into understanding and will).

The final main capacity of understanding Crusius mentions is ingenuity or the capacity to make discoveries by moving from one idea to a new, but connected idea, but not through abstracting division.This ingenuity, he explains, is not the capacity to perceive or affirm possible connections, which requires mere judgement. Indeed, Crusius adds, it is the hardest capacity of understanding to explain, and there’s less to learn about its fundamental essence. It might well be, he surmises, that in the hidden essence of ideas lies something that awakens a similarity with other ideas and thus unites them. Since such a process does not require consciousness, Crusius explains, animals might have ingenuity.

After the least complex capacities of understanding Crusius moves to the most important derived capacities, one of which – recollection – he has already mentioned. After it, the first derived capacity he mentions is the imagination, which is a capacity of using a lively idea in making other ideas lively. Crusius notes that rational beings imagine consciously, but in irrational animals the imagination has a true effect on determining their actions. He also divides imagination into imagination of memory, which reawakens ideas that have been thought earlier, and imagination of ingenuity, which awakens new ideas.

Next derived capacity Crusius investigates is the capacity to develop imperfect ideas by making them more determined, somewhat like colouring a pencilled sketch. He notes that it involves more than just making ideas more distinct, which requires nothing else but judgement. Crusius divides this capacity into two types: first of them involves positing from a concept of cause its nearest effects, for instance, in discovering causal deductions, while the second involves positing from an undetermined concept its possible determinations, for instance, in discovering disjunctive existential deductions.

The final derived capacity mentioned by Crusius is the capacity of making deductions. He lists this capacity only for the sake of completionism, but says it will be investigated in more detail later. He does remark that this capacity requires especially sharpness of internal sensing and attention. Since these are so difficult, Crusius remarks, people often make only easy deductions or even no deductions at all.

Having gone through this list of cognitive capacities, Crusius notes that external sensing, memory and ingenuity and imagination are called lower capacities of understanding, while higher capacities include internal sensing, judgement, capacity of developing ideas and capacity of making deductions. The reason for the division is, he says, that we share the lower capacities with irrational animals, while higher capacities belong only to rational entities. Whether lower or higher, all these various capacities, Crusius thinks, can have only three effects: concepts, propositions and deductions. Furthermore, all capacities of understanding can be cultivated, Crusius explains. This cultivation can be material, where we find more truths to know and use them more time, or it can be formal cultivation, where we ponder truths with more thoroughness and sharpness.

The capacities of understanding, Crusius continues, are by their nature earlier than capacities of will. Still, he admits, experience shows us that drives of will affect these capacities: we can direct our sense organs to objects we desire, we can choose to retain a current representation in our judgement etc. This means, firstly, that the state of understanding can be evaluated morally. Secondly, it means, Crusius notes, that effects of understanding can be divided into pure or unmixed, which are not affected by the activity of will, and mixed, which are so affected. Pure effects include, he thinks, sensing, retaining ideas in memory, distinguishing, at least insofar as it consists only in being aware of certain distinctions present in concepts, propositions or deductions, and free play of imagination, where we imagine now this, then that concept. Mixed effects, on other hand, include propositions and deductions, since they both require keeping attention willfully on relations of ideas, and also purposeful observing and reflecting.

Crusius notes that when we become accustomed to judging – that is, doing abstraction – our memory and ingenuity appear to weaken. This occurs, because we are habituated to start analysing new ideas, which makes it more difficult to retain this idea in our minds for a while, for the sake of memorising it or finding ingenious connections involving it. This is why adults seem not to have as good a memory as youngsters, Crusius explains, although the truth is that adults just use memory differently, memorising more easily ideas known through judgement. When reaching old age, he continues, the body starts to hinder our internal sensing, through the stiffening of nerve fluids, which makes it harder to recollect what lies in our memory to gain what truly lies in our memory. Just like memory, Crusius thinks, a free play of ingenuity appears to weaken with years, if one is accustomed to stifle its wilder suggestions, but practical and political ingenuity can still increase.

Georg Bernhard Bilfinger: The harmony between human soul and body, altogether pre-established, out of the mind of illustrious Leibniz, hypothetically studied (1723)

It is no wonder if you don't remember Bilfinger, because the first work I read from him was short, immemorable and not very original. Although Bilfinger won't get any points for originality this time either, at least the topic is of a more general interest. Like the name says, De harmonia animi et corporis humani, maxime praestabilita, ex mente illustris Leibnitii, commentatio hypothetica aims to examine the theory of the pre-established harmony. Leibniz himself had spoke of harmony between all substances whatsoever, but Bilfinger here concentrates on the particular case of souls and bodies. Bilfinger follows here the example of Wolff, who had already had some reservations on the full Leibnizian theory of monads.

Bilfinger starts from ths established fact that bodies and souls do work in harmony. When an object is brought in front of my eyes, I experience usually a visual sensation corresponding to the object. Similarly, when I have a volition of moving my hand, the hand in fact moves. Thus, the causal series governing bodies and causal series governing souls reflect themselves partially.

Bilfinger considers quickly the possibility that at least one of the series would consist of necessary processes. For instance, Spinoza thought that the series of both bodily and mental events followed necessarily from the eternal essence of God. Bilfinger disregards this option, because the two series do not seem necessary – I could have walked somewhere else etc.

Bilfinger suggests there are only three possible ways to explain the harmony between the two contingent series. Firstly, there could be true causal influx between the two series – this is the common sense explanation. As Bilfinger notes, the influx theory goes against certain assumption of modern science. Observations appear to show that material objects retain the quantity of their motion, unless they interact with other material objects – they either share some of their quantity of motion with others or receive some quantity from others. Because soul doesn't move, it cannot impart motion to material objects, not even to its own body, and cannot thus make the body do anything.

Descartes' stance on the issue was ambiguous. He did accept the physical fact of the stable quantity of motion, but suggested that the soul might still change the direction of movement of the body or some part of it. By the time of Leibniz, it had become evident that this solution would not do – material objects retained also the direction of their motion, unless the direction was changed by the force of other material objects.

The Cartesian school had then slowly turned towards a new explanation. They suggested that whenever body appeared to do something to soul or vice versa, God on this occasion decided to interfere in the causal chain and connect the movement of the body with the respective change in the soul and the change in soul with the respective movement of body. This occasionalism had the setback that it appeared to break the ideas of modern science even more than causal influx. If occasionalism were right, there would be no true causal regularities, but everything would depend on the will of God, who would be constantly making miracles to sustain his creation.

Leibnizian solution is then that God has preordained souls and bodies to work in harmony, like two clocks that a perfect watchmaker has winded up show always the same time. Bilfinger notes that the thesis of pre-established harmony has justification enough in the fact that all other options fail to meet the standards of modern science. Still, he also notes that the harmony becomes an immediate corollary if we just accept other aspects of Leibnizian metaphysics – if souls are monads representing everything and especially the group of monads that constitutes its body, then the representing soul and represented body necessarily work in harmony.

All the previous is pretty straightforward summarising of Leibniz's thoughts. More original are Bilfinger's attempts to answer objections presented against the theory. A good representative of those objections come from Pierre Bayle, the skeptical encyclopedist. Bayle had accused Leibniz that his theory leads to materialism, because he must assume that bodies can run their own course, without any guidance of souls – my body could be writing these apparently reasonable words without me being aware of it. Bilfinger notes that even such complex phenomena like the movement of the planets can happen without any governing soul. Furthermore, he emphasizes that the world still isn't necessary substance of Spinoza, because it has been created by God. Finally, the independence of material world still wouldn't lead to a denial of souls, because mere material things couldn't represent anything – here Bilfinger is following Wolff.

Bayle had also ridiculed the notion of a causal series of the changes of soul. Bayle compared monads with atoms and assumed that monads would also be governed by similar iron laws. Furthermore, he wondered how sudden changes in the experiences of soul could arise, for instance, how could such complex phenomenon like music suddenly appear in our minds. Bilfinger emphasizes the importance of obscure representations in the life of a soul. These obscure sensations make our experiences so varied and thus differentiate monads from simple, featureless atoms. They also help us to understand sudden changes in our mental life. These changes have built up gradually, but only through unaware representations. Only when a certain threshold had been passed will the symphony start to play in our minds.

Even more interesting are Bilfinger's attempt to answer objections he has heard from his own acquaintances. For instance, Bilfinger has to explain why sickness of the body limits also the capacities of soul. Bilfinger notes that this is just natural – because soul is in harmony with the body, the soul sure must follow what the body does and act confused, when the body is ailing. Furthermore, Bilfinger explains that the sequence of ideas in soul must correspond to some movements in brain, which are capable of producing movements of body that appear rational. In effect, theory of pre-established harmony could be reconciled with the idea of human actions being dependent on brain.

So much for pre-established harmony. Next time we'll begin a summary of Wolffian philosophy.