Sunday 24 June 2012

Receiving form without matter


What happens when an adult male – because women did not philosophize in ancient Greece – begins to reflect over the conditions of his existence and his way of being in the world? He will begin with what is immediately present and obvious. I see, hear, smell, taste, and sense the things and events in the world that is external to me. I also perceive events that happen internally like my thoughts and feelings. All the internal events seem to be immaterial and private in the sense that they are only accessible to me. They belong to my soul.
The conception of a soul that inhabits the material body was of course available and widely adopted before Aristotle began his studies on it. His great innovation was to apply a rigorous logical analysis to the soul. He proceeded by singling out phenomena and by defining their distinguishing properties he attempted to separate their general nature from their accidental variation. Making discriminations and looking at the relationships between properties thus established is still the basis of abstraction in sciences. That was not the problem. The problem arose by his choice of departure for the analysis, i.e., sense perception.
This seems simple and self-evident. Our current textbooks on cognitive psychology almost invariably begin  with sense perception. This is however a perilous path. It generates all the dichotomies that have plagued psychology for centuries. They can be readily recognized in Aristotle’s analysis of the soul.
First, he had to answer how the senses relate to the external objects. What do the eyes see, when they spot a boat on the shore or perceive a colour? The boat does not enter the eye, nor does the eye jelly get coloured. Aristotle’s solution was consistent with his general approach to understand nature. Everything in the world is a unity of matter and form, and what enters the sense is the form of the external thing. “The generalization we should make about all perception is that a sense is what is capable of receiving sensible forms without matter, as wax receives the marking of the ring without the iron or gold…” (Aristotle: On the Soul, II, 12)
This was the very first dualist split in Aristotle’s monistic view of the world. A number of vexing problems ensued that brought in place other dichotomies. How can material objects transfer their form to the senses? What happens to the form when it enters the sensitive soul? What is the mode by which it is retained in the soul? Starting from perception created a rift between the external and the internal. It also petrified the distinction between body and soul, which we still have with us in the mind-body problem.
More problems were soon underway. According to his classificatory mode of analysis, Aristotle postulated that each sense has the potential for receiving only a certain kind of impressions. The defining property for each sense was framed in a pair of opposites. Thus, seeing was discriminating between light and darkness, hearing between high and low tones, smelling between bitter and sweet odour, and tasting discriminated bitter and sweet liquids. Touching was problematic, because more than one contrasts had to be allowed, such as warm vs. cold, dry vs. wet, and coarse vs. smooth.  Nevertheless, the unitary form of external things (pragmata) necessarily appeared to split up into distinct sense impressions.
If each sense makes up its own faculty that handles the sense data proper to its nature, what accounts for the fact that we do not just perceive colours, smells, surfaces or sounds? “What is it that allows us to go beyond mere sensations of red, fragrant, and smooth and to recognise an apple for an apple?” (Kaukua & Kukkonen, 2007) To account for this problem, Aristotle had to postulate two cognitive faculties. The common sense (koinē dunamis) is an internal sense that brings the specific aspects of the form together. By employing a set of general categories, such as movement, rest, number, shape, and size, the common sense creates a unified perception of the external thing (aisthema).
The common sense could, however, only account for the synthesis of immediate sense impressions. That they might be presented as thought objects for the intellect, they had to be freed from the immediacy of sense perception. (Frede, 2001). More internal faculties had to be postulated. Aristotle defined Phantasia as the faculty that retains the perceptibles as phantasmata and presents them to the faculty of intellect for further abstraction and thought operations.  Does this not sound familiar? Modern conceptions in cognitive science carry distinct echoes of these ancient solutions. In my next post I will give some illustrations.