Richard A. Lee Jr.

“Whatever is, is matter.” Is this all there is to materialism? Is it really nothing more than the result of a kind of metaphysical census? “We have looked around, and all we find is matter. The reports of souls and angels, God and separated intelligences, ideas and essences have all proven false. Whatever is, is matter.” Yet how would I ever come to know such a thing? The issue is not only that I cannot possibly take such a census. More problematically, these purported non-material entities are “discovered” not by observation but through thought or reason. Therefore, a metaphysical census is not enough to discern the non-existence of such non-material beings. What is required for their denial is the very deployment of reason that conjures up their existence in the first place. Therein lies the danger for materialism: to have access to a tool—rational conceptualization—that is not entirely explicable materially. Materialism relies on abstraction just as much as its other. If materialism is not somehow involved with concepts and reason, then it turns out to be what is normally and more properly called myth or theology. Aristotle saw this clearly. If the investigation of nature does not appeal to thought, then “everything is from Night.” There is, then, a tremendous difference between Hesiod’s assertion, “First came Chaos,” and Thales’ position, “All is from water,” i.e., a difference between a mythical positing of a being that, as such, stands beyond reason, and the investigation into the principles that reason can discover.

In Defensor Pacis Marsilius of Padua grounds the legitimacy of the kingdom, or the state, on the peace that rule provides the citizens. Looking at Aristotle’s claim that the civitas strives to be like an animal in which all parts in the right proportion for the sake of health, Marsilius argues that ‘the parts of the kingdom or state will be well disposed for the sake of peace [tranquilitas].’ Marsilius goes on to define peace as the agreeable ‘belonging together’ of all members of the kingdom or the state. In this way, Marsilius moves away from a theological ground of the legitimacy of the state towards one that is entirely secular. However, the ground is an unstable one in that it acknowledges the fact that the ‘members’ of the body politic are characterised by difference. As such, the ground of legitimate authority will be characterised as much by force as by peace or by the relation of force to peace.

One of the constant themes of Adorno’s work, running from his early essay “The Idea of Natural History” through his unfinished Aesthetic Theory, is the notion of the experience of power within the natural realm and the relation of rational “enlightenment” to this experience. On the one hand, “Enlightenment is mythic fear turned radical” ; on the other hand, “Myth turns into enlightenment, and nature into mere objectivity”. What concerns Adorno is precisely the dialectic that enlightenment itself is. As the attempt to free humanity from fear of the force of nature, enlightenment is an attempt to demythologize nature, to strip nature of its power. Yet, in this very activity, enlightenment becomes that power itself. If reason is the response to the force of nature, then reason itself has to be force as well: “Myth is already enlightenment; and enlightenment reverts to mythology”.

Science, the Singular, and the Question of Theology explores the role that the singular plays in the theories of science of Robert Grosseteste, Thomas Aquinas, Duns Scotus, William of Ockham, Marsilius of Inghen, and Pierre d'Ailly. It pursues the question specifically in relation to the question of whether theology is a science. The work argues that the main issue in debates concerns whether theology is a science and how to provide a 'rational ground' for existing singulars. Science, the Singular, and the Question of Theology exposes how, on the eve of modernity, existing singulars were freed from the constraints of rational ground.