Geoffrey Gorham

This chapter offers an overview and comparison of the philosophies of time of Isaac Newton and Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, especially as these relate to their natural philosophies. In §1, I make three observations about background assumptions that are mostly shared by Newton and Leibniz, and by most other European early modern philosophers. In §2, I discuss the major metaphysical issue about time in the early modern era: is time an independent being, or does time depend on change in the mind or on motion in the world? In §§3–4, I explain and critically analyze Newton's absolutist conception of time, focusing on the two works that most thoroughly articulate this doctrine: De Gravitatione and the Principia (especially the General Scholium). In §5, I discuss the main issues at stake in the famous 1715–1716 correspondence between Leibniz and Newton's lieutenant, Samuel Clarke, in which Leibniz vigorously defends a relationist conception of time. I will suggest that these opponents are at loggerheads about fundamental principles, such as the principle of sufficient reason and God's relation to the world. Their disagreements are still debated to this day.

17th-century natural philosophy placed God directly at the foundations of both the Cartesian and the Newtonian programs in physics. But Hobbes’s somewhat neglected “corporeal deity”—derived from the ancient Stoics—offered at least as compelling a conception of God’s immanent relation to the world as Descartes or Newton. While undeniably heterodox, Hobbes’s embodied God possessed the traditional divine attributes, including infinity, omnipotence, omniscience, and simplicity. Furthermore, the corporeal God solved an important problem at the foundation of Hobbesian physics: accounting for the origin of motion and diversity. Given the rise of deism and materialism in France and England at the turn of the eighteenth century, one might have expected a welcome reception for Hobbes’s corporeal deity (which was certainly well known). But in fact even radical authors like Toland—an avowed pantheist—rejected the corporeal god doctrine.

Descartes believed that causation is intelligible only if the cause and effect are similar, since it is impossible to understand how the reality of an effect can owe anything to the reality of its cause if the two have nothing in common. I argue first that Descartes has a coherent and reasonably strong metaphysical justification for his condition of causal similarity. Second, I defend Descartes from the charge that his conception of similarity renders the condition trivial by making practically everything similar to everything else. Third, I discuss the familiar objection that if the similarity condition is not trivial, then it is incompatible with Cartesian mind–body interaction. I argue that the condition is consistent with, and indeed explains, Descartes's late view of interaction.

This chapter identifies three main sources of the Stoic elements in Hobbes's philosophy: the early Christian‐Stoic Tertullian, the modern “Neo‐Stoic” school of Justus Lipsius, and the natural philosophers of the Cavendish Circle he frequented. Perhaps the most direct Stoical impact on Hobbes was the second/third century Church Father Tertullian. Hobbes and Cavendish are at bottom kindred Stoic spirits, though their systems diverge on the precise nature of material activity. The chapter explores the Stoic character of Hobbesian space, time, causality, and God, especially as these notions are employed in his natural philosophy. Hobbes's quasi‐realism about imaginary space is highly reminiscent of the Stoics' conception of pure space as one of the problematic “incorporeals.” The chapter shows that Hobbes's metaphysical views, though quite unorthodox in his day, served to buttress his overall materialist, empiricist, and mechanist program in natural philosophy.

Richard Popkin opened an early paper with the observation "No figure in the history of European philosophy has had a more direct and enduring influence on American thought than George Berkeley."2 Popkin's case for Berkeley's "enduring" influence well into classical pragmatism is compelling.3 But in what follows I will be concerned with his more "direct" influence on the Connecticut philosopher and theologian Samuel Johnson —not to be confused with the English stone-kicking confuter of Berkeley—during Berkeley's brief, abortive Rhode Island sojourn of 1729–31. Johnson studied classics and history at the nascent Yale College, until, "accidentally lighting on Lord Bacon's Instauratio Magna or Advancement of...

The Scottish philosopher Norman Kemp Smith (1872–1958) is best known for his 1929 English translation of Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason, and for his incisive commentaries on Descartes, Hume, and Kant. These achievements have overshadowed his original philosophical work in several areas, including the experience of time. A realist with idealist sympathies, Kemp Smith developed a non-transcendental version of Kant’s conception of time as a ‘pure intuition’ (though he insisted that temporal perception involved ‘categories’). He employed this conception to solve a problem that was widely discussed in early twentieth-century European and American philosophy, which William James dubbed the ‘specious present’: how can we perceive an extended duration, like a full golf swing, or the cadence of a brief tune, if we only perceive the present? A closely related problem: if we only ever perceive the present, how can we distinguish among the future, present, and past? In this paper, I explain Kemp Smith’s proposed solution, and compare it with two of his contemporary influences: Samuel Alexander and George F. Stout. Finally, I suggest that these problems are still with us, and are likely to be for some time, especially if we ignore the insights offered by earlier discussions.

Locke is famed for his caution in speculative matters: “Men, extending their enquiries beyond their capacities and letting their thoughts wander into those depths where they can find no sure footing; ‘tis no wonder that they raise questions and multiply disputes”. And he is skeptical about the pretensions of natural philosophy, which he says is “not capable of being made a science”. And yet Locke is confident that “Our reason leads us to the knowledge of this certain and evident truth, that there is an eternal, most powerful and most knowing being; which whether anyone will please to call God it matters not”. His certainty about the existence and attributes of God, I will argue, led him to surprisingly strong convictions about a deep and disputed problem at the intersection of seventeenth century metaphysics and natural philosophy: the absolute reality of space and time. Specifically, he based his absolutist conceptions of space and time on God’s literal omnipresence and eternity. Leibniz probably had Locke in mind when he inveighed in 1716 against “real absolute space, the idol of some modern Englishmen”. And Leibniz was right a decade earlier to voice through his mouthpiece Theophilus the suspicion that, despite Locke’s claim to know nothing about the substance of void space, “there are grounds for thinking you know more about it than you say or believe that you do. Some people have thought that God is the place of objects”.

It is well-known that Isaac Newton’s conception of space and time as absolute -- “without reference to anything external” (Principia, 408) -- was anticipated, and probably influenced, by a number of figures among the earlier generation of seventeenth century natural philosophers, including Pierre Gassendi, Henry More, and Newton’s own teacher Isaac Barrow. The absolutism of Newton’s contemporary and friend, John Locke, has received much less attention, which is unfortunate for several reasons. First, Locke’s views of space and time undergo a dramatic evolution that mirrors the overall absolutist trend of the era. Second, there are good reasons to suppose that Locke was influenced late in this evolution by Newton’s Principia, which he read and reviewed shortly after its 1687 publication. It is even possible that Locke read or knew of the earlier and unpublished, though now famous, Newtonian tract De Gravitatione. Third, despite the influence of Newton, Locke’s retains a skeptical attitude concerning our empirical knowledge of absolute space and time. He is especially cautious about absolute time, bucking a widespread tendency to treat time as strongly analogous to space. Their disagreement about the measure of absolute time, we will suggest, reflects a deeper disagreement in the philosophy of science. While Locke counts as scientific knowledge only ideas and demonstrations derivable from immediate experience, Newton endorses a more theory-driven brand of empiricism, which holds that our best explanations of the phenomena provide genuine knowledge that goes beyond what we can directly observe.

In two rarely discussed passages – from unpublished notes on the Principles of Philosophy and a 1647 letter to Chanut – Descartes argues that the question of the infinite extension of space is importantly different from the infinity of time. In both passages, he is anxious to block the application of his well-known argument for the indefinite extension of space to time, in order to avoid the theologically problematic implication that the world has no beginning. Descartes concedes that we always imagine an earlier time in which God might have created the world if he had wanted, but insists that this imaginary earlier existence of the world is not connected to its actual duration in the way that the indefinite extension of space is connected to the actual extension of the world. This paper considers whether Descartes’s metaphysics can sustain this asymmetrical attitude towards infinite space vs. time. I first consider Descartes’s relation to the ‘imaginary’ space/time tradition that extended from the late scholastics through Gassendi and More. I next examine carefully Descartes’s main argument for the indefinite extension of space and explain why it does not apply to time. Most crucially, since duration is merely conceptually distinct from enduring substance, the end or beginning of the world entails the end or beginning of real time. In contrast, extension does not depend on any enduring substance besides itself.

I develop a new theory of theoretical progress or 'truthlikeness'. Unlike previous theories, my approach focuses on the sets of models of scientific theories, rather than their linguistic formulations. Such an approach, I argue, avoids several long-standing problems in the philosophy of theoretical progress. I find in Chapter One that the most prominent schools of twentieth century philosophy of science have all failed to account for theoretical progress. I further argue that such an account is an essential element of the best argument for the doctrine of scientific realism. Chapter Two offers a taxonomy of recent theories of verisimilitude. A four-part classification is proposed according to where the theories stand on each of two basic meta-theoretical dichotomies: the structure of scientific theories, the measure of theoretical progress. My own approach is based on a semantic view of theories and a similarity-based measure of progress. I argue in Chapter Three that such an approach avoids the problems of language-dependence and incommensurability; it also explains the relation between truth and truthlikeness. In Chapter Four, I develop my own theory in detail. I propose that one scientific theory is closer to the truth than another just in case its family of models is more structurally similar to the actual world. Chapter Five is an historical illustration of my theory: the theory of atomic structure, 1867-1913.

When McTaggart puts Spinoza on his short list of philosophers who considered time unreal, he is falling in line with a reading of Spinoza’s philosophy of time advanced by contemporaneous British Idealists and by Hegel. The idealists understood that there is much at stake concerning the ontological status of Spinozistic time. If time is essential to motion then temporal idealism entails that nearly everything—apart from God conceived sub specie aeternitatis—is imaginary. I argue that although time is indeed ‘imaginary’—in a sense ‘no one doubts’ as Spinoza says—there is no good reason to infer that bodies, the infinite modes, and conatus are imaginary in the same sense. To avoid this conflation, we need to follow Spinoza in carefully distinguishing between tempus and duratio. Duration is not only real; it has all the structure needed to ground Spinozistic motion, bodies and conatus

Hobbes insists that motion, which plays numerous important roles in his natural philosophy, presupposes time. But he seems to advance a reductionist, even idealist, conception of time itself. For example, he denies that time itself can measure motion; rather motion measures time. Indeed, time is ‘imaginary’ and only the present is strictly real. In various ways, these views of time threaten to undermine the ‘motionalist’ foundations of Hobbes’s mechanical philosophy. This paper aims to block these threats by developing a realist interpretation of Hobbesian time, analogous to his conception of ‘real space’. This real time serves as an objective framework for motion in Hobbes’s natural philosophy.

: Descartes provides an original and puzzling argument for the traditional theological doctrine that the world is continuously created by God. His key premise is that the parts of the duration of anything are "completely independent" of one another. I argue that Descartes derives this temporal independence thesis simply from the principle that causes are necessarily simultaneous with their effects. I argue further that it follows from Descartes's version of the continuous creation doctrine that God is the instantaneous and total cause of everything that happens, and that this is just what his physics demands. But although God is the total cause of everything, he is not the only cause, since Descartes considers it obvious that finite minds have the power to move bodies. In the face of this apparent paradox, several recent commentators have suggested that Descartes accepted the late scholastic view that God and finite causes somehow collaborate or concur in the production of numerically identical effects. But close examination reveals that the case for Cartesian concurrentism is weak. Fortunately, there is a simpler and more fruitful solution to the problem of reconciling divine and human action. I argue that that in Descartes's world certain motions, such as voluntary movements of our bodies, are causally overdetermined This account allows Descartes to avoid occasionalism without embracing an elaborate metaphysics of secondary causality. Finally, I argue that the overdeterminist interpretation sheds new light on two longstanding problems of Cartesian metaphysics. First, it resolves a serious difficulty with a standard reading of Descartes's conception of human freedom. Second, it offers a novel approach to the old problem of reconciling genuine human action with the principle of the conservation of total quantity of motion

Seventeenth-century authors frequently infer the attributes of time by analogy from already established features of space. The rationale for this can be traced back to Aristotle's analysis of time as ?the number of movement?, where movement requires a prior understanding of spatial magnitude. Although these authors are anti-Aristotelian, they were concerned, contra Aristotle, to establish the existence of ?empty space?, and a notion of absolute space which fit this idea. Although they had no independent rationale for the existence of absolute time, it seemed to go with absolute space, and they drew on a long tradition of space-time parallelism in securing this