Richard Cross

Duns Scotus defends the view that we can speak univocally of God and creatures. When we do so, we use words in the same sense in the two cases. Scotus maintains that the concepts that these univocal words signify are themselves univocal: the same concept in the two cases. In this paper, I consider a related question: does Duns Scotus have the notion of analogous concepts—concepts whose relation to each other lies somewhere between the univocal and the equivocal? Using some neglected texts from Scotus’s attempt to refute Henry of Ghent’s rejection of univocity, I argue that he does, and that he uses his account of univocity to ground the relation of analogy between two concepts. According to Scotus, analogous concepts are compositional, and overlap at a univocal concept.

This article highlights five areas of Scotus' philosophy that have recently been the subject of scholarly discussion. (1) Metaphysics : I outline the most current accounts of Scotus on individuation (thisness or haecceity) and the common nature. (2) Modal theory : I consider recent accounts both of Scotus' innovations in spelling out the notion of the logically (and broadly logically) possible, and of his account of the independence of modality. (3) Cognitive psychology : I examine recent views of Scotus' theory of intentionality and the nature of mental content. (4) Semantics : I look at contemporary expositions of Scotus' view that words signify things. (5) Metaethics and ethics : I briefly describe conflicting interpretations of Scotus' metaethics, and discuss whether Scotus should be thought of as adopting some kind of divine-command theory or not. I note too Scotus' claim that virtues and passions can be located in the will.

According to Swinburne, one way of dealing with the guilt that attaches to a morally bad action is satisfaction, consisting of repentance, apology, reparation, and penance. Thus, Christ's life and death make atonement for human sin by providing a reparation which human beings would otherwise be unable to pay. I argue that the nature of God's creative activity entails that human beings can by themselves make reparation for their sins, merely by apology. So there is no need for additional reparation, and the satisfaction theory of the atonement is otiose. Following an insight of Swinburne's, I argue that satisfaction is not sufficient for forgiveness, since satisfaction does not place the wronged party under any obligation to forgive the wrongdoer. Christ's death merits the forgiveness of those sins for which human beings have made satisfaction. It does this in virtue of a divine promise to reward Christ's meritorious life with the forgiveness of such human sin.

Contrary to a common assumption, I argue that there is full agreement between East and West on the issue of the relation between the divine essence and the divine persons. I defend this claim by using the understanding of universals found in D. M. Armstrong to cast light on the theories. Taking Gregory of Nyssa and John of Damascus as representatives of the Eastern tradition, I show that this tradition sees the divine essence as a numerically singular object that is wholly present in each divine person. The Eastern tradition explicitly sees this object as a universal. The Western tradition – exemplified in Augustine and Aquinas – likewise sees the divine essence as a numerically singular object that is wholly present in each divine person. But this tradition customarily denies that such an object could be a universal, on the merely philosophical grounds that universals are divided amongst the particulars that share them, and thus cannot be numerically one. Having shown the fundamental consonance of the two traditions, I argue by way of conclusion that differences between social and non–social theories of the Trinity depend entirely on the nature and extent of the features that are supposed to distinguish the persons from each other

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Four-Dimensionalism and Identity Across Time: Henry of Ghent vs. BonaventureRichard CrossModern accounts of the identity of an object across time tend to fall roughly into two basic types.Let us say that something persists ıff, somehow or other, it exists at various times; this is the neutral word. Something perdures iff it persists by having different temporal parts, or stages, at different times, though no one part of it is wholly present at more than one time; whereas it endures iff it persists by being wholly present at more than one time.1On the first of these analyses, but not the second, a persistent object includes temporal parts, and persistent material substances are thus on this analysis four-dimensional objects. On the first analysis, but not on the second, time-indices are explicable in terms of temporal parts. I shall take this as the basic difference between the two views.2Both views allow us to talk of temporal order and temporal direction. I [End Page 393] shall follow the medievals and talk about succession to capture both of these claims: “The notion of succession formally consists in the notion of ‘before’ and ‘after,’”3 and I take it that talk of “before” and “after” entails both order and direction.4 Medieval accounts of identity across time are, however, in some ways more obscure than the two modern ones just described. The medievals tend to associate all temporal succession with temporal extension: an object x has temporal succession if and only if x is temporally extended (and thus includes temporal parts).5 The medievals also (correctly, I believe) tend to suppose that substances—unlike (say) processes—do not have temporal parts.6 Thus, by the end of the thirteenth century the schoolmen commonly [End Page 394] distinguish permanent objects from successive objects. Permanent objects do not, and successive objects do, have temporal parts.7 Successive objects are processes; the class of permanent objects was generally held to include not only God, but also angels, material substances, and static accidents (i.e., accidents which do not entail any sort of process).8Given these claims, there is a problem to be faced in giving an account of the identity of, say, a material substance across time. But it is not the problem we would face. Our problem, post-Hume, is to explain the relevant (explanatory) continuity requirements for identity across time. The medievals’ problem is rather different. They do not need to specify general continuity requirements, because for them there is a very real sense in which substances—and indeed all permanent objects—lack temporal extension and, therefore, any sort of temporal succession at all. The problem for the medievals is thus to explain how substances can persist at all, rather than exist merely fleetingly.9In what follows, I will examine two thirteenth-century solutions to this problem. The first is a radical one: simply to deny the standard claim that substances lack temporal parts. This view will thus bear some resemblance to what we would label four-dimensionalism. The second solution I will examine represents one of the more successful attempts to defend the standard thirteenth-century line that substances lack temporal parts. This solution goes some way towards allowing succession (and time-indexing) without appealing to temporal parts.To understand the debate, we need to keep in mind that the medievals—following Aristotle—talk of the temporality of an object in terms of its being [End Page 395] measured by time. Confusingly, they might speak of a substance’s being measured in one sort of way, and its accidental properties’ being measured in another. Thus, by the end of the thirteenth century it was often claimed that the duration of a substance is measured not by time but by the aevum—the durational measure of objects lacking temporal parts—while some of a substance’s accidental properties could be measured by time. (I will explain in detail below how time and the aevum were understood.) On this view, the temporality of an object’s properties is not sufficient cause for positing the temporality of the object. There are acceptable and unacceptable ways of understanding...

According to Scotus, an intelligible species with universal content, inherent in the mind, is a partial cause of an occurrent cognition whose immediate object is the self-same species. I attempt to explain how Scotus defends the possibility of this causal activity. Scotus claims, generally, that forms are causes, and that inherence makes no difference to the capacity of a form to cause an effect. He illustrates this by examining a case in which an accident is an instrument of a substance in the production of a certain sort of effect. All that is required is that the accident is relevantly joined to the substance, whether or not it inheres in the substance. Since intelligible species are bearers of semantic content, it follows that non-inherent objects of thought can also be the bearers of such content. Such objects are included in the mind without inherence, and the boundary between the mind and external reality is to this extent broken down.

Scotus consistently holds that eternity is to be understood as timelessness. In his early Lectura, he criticizes Aquinas’ account of eternity on the grounds that (1) it entails collapsing past and future into the present, and (2) it entails a B-theory of time, according to which past, present and future are all ontologically on a par with each other. Scotus later comes to accept something like Aquinas’ account of God’s timelessness and the B-theory of time which it entails. Scotus also offers a refutation of his earlier argument that Aquinas’ account of eternity entails collapsing past and future into the present.

The Christian doctrine of the Incarnation maintains that the second person of the Trinity became a human being, retaining all attributes necessary for being divine and gaining all attributes necessary for being human. As usually understood, the doctrine involves the claim that the second person of the Trinity is the subject of the attributes of Jesus Christ, the first-century Jew whose deeds are reported in various ways in the New Testament. The fundamental philosophical problem specific to the doctrine is this: how is it that one and the same thing could be both divine and human. Most of the philosophical effort devoted to the specifics of the doctrine has centered on this issue, which is the focus of this article.

Duns Scotus (c. 1266-1308) has long ranked as one of the most challenging of philosophers. He was known from shortly after his death as doctor subtilis—the subtle doctor—and his obscure style and complex thought-processes make him a hard thinker to study. That said, he quickly established an almost cult following among his students, and his thought, for all its density, remained hugely popular throughout the Middle Ages and beyond. It is no exaggeration to claim that the last two decades have seen a remarkable burgeoning of Duns Scotus studies—perhaps not one of medieval proportions, but certainly noticeable. There are various reasons for this, some obvious, some not so obvious, and I will begin by considering ..

According to an important set of medieval arguments, it is impossible to make a distinction between creation and conservation on the assumption of a beginningless universe. The argument is that, on such an assumption, either God is never causally sufficient for the existence of the universe, or, if He is at one time causally sufficient for the existence of the universe, He is at all times causally sufficient for the universe, and occasionalism is true. I defend the claim that these arguments are successful. Since Christian theology requires a distinction between creation and conservation, arguments in favour of the possible eternity of the world fail.

According to a well-known interpretation, Henry of Ghent holds that possible but non-existent essences – items merely with what Henry labels ‘ esse essentiae ’ – have some reality external to the divine mind, but short of actual existence ( esse existentiae ). I argue that this reading of Henry is mistaken. Furthermore, Henry identifies any essence, considered independently of its existence as a universal concept or as instantiated in a particular as an item that has some kind of reality in the divine intellect, and that constitutes an object of thought for that intellect. This object is distinguished from the universal concepts of creaturely cognition.

According to Henry of Ghent (d. 1293), it is impossible for the second person of the Trinity to assume into unity of person an irrational nature (e.g., a stone nature), or to assume a rational nature that does not enjoy the beatific vision. He argues that the assumption of a nature to a divine person entails both that the nature has the sort of powers that could exercise supernatural activities and that these powers are exercised. Henry’s Franciscan opponents argue against this. Existent irrational natures (like existent rational natures) are not necessarily subsistent and belonging to a kind does not require the opportunity to exercise the causal powers associated with that kind

Contrary to the claims of recent commentators, I argue that Boethius holds a modified version of the Ammonian three-fold universal (transcendent, immanent, and conceptual). He probably identifies transcendent universals as divine ideas, and accepts too forms immanent in corporeal particulars, most likely construing these along the Aphrodisian lines that he hints at in a well-known passage from his second commentary on Porphyry's Isagoge. Boethius never states the theory of the three-fold form outright, but I attempt to show that this theory nevertheless underlies and gives structure to what Boethius has to say on the topic

Upholding a univocity theory of religious language does not entail idolatry, because nothing about univocity entails misidentifying God altogether—which is what idolatry amounts to. Upholders and opponents of univocity can agree on the object to which they are ascribing various attributes, even if they do not agree on the attributes themselves. Neither does the defender of univocity have to maintain that there is anything real really shared by God and creatures. Furthermore, even if much of language is analogous, syllogistic argument—and hence theology’s scientific status, as accepted by the scholastics—requires univocity.