## 1. Introduction



The inherent problems with Plato's original theory were
recognized already by Plato himself. In his *Parmenides* Plato
famously raised several difficulties, for which he apparently did not
provide satisfactory answers. Aristotle (384-322 B.C.E.), with all
due reverence to his teacher, consistently rejected Plato's
theory, and heavily criticized it throughout his own work. (Hence the
famous saying, *amicus Plato sed magis amica
 veritas*).[1]
 Nevertheless, despite this explicit doctrinal conflict, Neo-Platonic
philosophers, pagans (such as Plotinus ca. 204-270, and
Porphyry, ca. 234-305) and Christians (such as Augustine,
354-430, and Boethius, ca. 480-524) alike, observed a
basic concordance between Plato's and Aristotle's
approach, crediting Aristotle with an explanation of how the human
mind acquires its universal concepts of particular things from
experience, and Plato with providing an explanation of how the
universal features of particular things are established by being
modeled after their universal
 archetypes.[2]
 In any case, it was this general attitude toward the problem in late
antiquity that set the stage for the ever more sophisticated medieval
 discussions.[3]
 In these discussions, the concepts of the human mind, therefore, were
regarded as posterior to the particular things represented by these
concepts, and hence they were referred to as *universalia post
rem* ('universals after the thing'). The universal
features of singular things, inherent in these things themselves, were
referred to as *universalia in re* ('universals in the
thing'), answering the universal exemplars in the divine mind,
the *universalia ante rem* ('universals before the
 thing').[4]
 All these, universal concepts, universal features of singular things,
and their exemplars, are expressed and signified by means of some
obviously universal signs, the universal (or common) terms of human
languages. For example, the term 'man', in English is a
universal term, because it is truly predicable of all men in one and
the same sense, as opposed to the singular term
'Socrates', which in the same sense, i.e., when not used
equivocally, is only predicable of one man (hence the need to add an
ordinal number to the names of kings and popes of the same name).



Depending on which of these items (universal features of singular
things, their universal concepts, or their universal names) they
regarded as the primary, really existing universals, it is customary
to classify medieval authors as being *realists*,
*conceptualists*, or *nominalists*, respectively. The
*realists* are supposed to be those who assert the existence of
real universals *in* and/or *before* particular things,
the *conceptualists* those who allow universals only, or
primarily, as concepts of the mind, whereas *nominalists* would
be those who would acknowledge only, or primarily, universal words.
But this rather crude classification does not adequately reflect the
genuine, much more subtle differences of opinion between medieval
thinkers. (No wonder one often finds in the secondary literature
distinctions between, "moderate" and "extreme"
versions of these crudely defined positions.) In the first place,
nearly *all* medieval thinkers agreed on the existence of
universals *before* things in the form of divine ideas existing
in the divine
 mind,[5]
 but all of them denied their existence in the form of
mind-independent, real, eternal entities originally posited by Plato.
Furthermore, medieval thinkers also agreed that particular things have
certain features which the human mind is able to comprehend in a
universal fashion, and signify by means of universal terms. As we
shall see, their disagreements rather concerned the types of the
relationships that hold between the particular things, their
individual, yet universally comprehensible features, the universal
concepts of the mind, and the universal terms of our languages, as
well as the ontological status of, and distinctions between, the
individualized features of the things and the universal concepts of
the mind. Nevertheless, the distinction between "realism"
and "nominalism", especially, when it is used to refer to
the distinction between the radically different ways of doing
philosophy and theology in late-medieval times, is quite justifiable,
provided we clarify what *really* separated these ways, as I
hope to do in the later sections of this article.



In this brief summary account, I will survey the problem both from a
systematic and from a historical point of view. In the next section I
will first motivate the problem by showing how naturally the questions
concerning universals emerge if we consider how we come to know a
universal claim, i.e., one that concerns a potentially infinite number
of particulars of a given kind, in a simple geometrical demonstration.
I will also briefly indicate why a naive Platonic answer to these
questions in terms of the theory of perfect Forms, however plausible
it may seem at first, is inadequate. In the third section, I will
briefly discuss how the specific medieval questions concerning
universals emerged, especially in the context of answering
Porphyry's famous questions in his introduction to
Aristotle's *Categories*, which will naturally lead us to
a discussion of Boethius' Aristotelian answers to these
questions in his second commentary on Porphyry in the fourth section.
However, Boethius' Aristotelian answers anticipated only one
side of the medieval discussions: the mundane, philosophical theory of
universals, in terms of Aristotelian abstractionism. But the other
important, Neo-Platonic, theological side of the issue provided by
Boethius, and, most importantly, by St. Augustine, was for medieval
thinkers the theory of ontologically primary universals as the
creative archetypes of the divine mind, the Divine Ideas. Therefore,
the fifth section is going to deal with the main ontological and
epistemological problems generated by this theory, namely, the
apparent conflict between divine simplicity and the multiplicity of
divine ideas, on the one hand, and the tension between the Augustinian
theory of divine illumination and Aristotelian abstractionism, on the
other. Some details of the early medieval Boethian-Aristotelian
approach to the problem and its combination with the Neo-Platonic
Augustinian tradition *before* the influx of the newly
recovered logical, metaphysical, and physical writings of Aristotle
and their Arabic commentaries in the second half of the
12th century will be taken up in the sixth section, in
connection with Abelard's (1079-1142) discussion of
Porphyry's questions. The seventh section will discuss some
details of the characteristic metaphysical approach to the problem in
the 13th century, especially as it was shaped by the
influence of Avicenna's (980-1037) doctrine of common
nature. The eighth section outlines the most general features of the
logical conceptual framework that served as the common background for
the metaphysical disagreements among the authors of this period. I
will argue that it is precisely this common logical-semantical
framework that allows the grouping together of authors who endorse
sometimes radically different metaphysics and epistemologies (not only
in this period, but also much later, well into the early modern
period) as belonging to what in later medieval philosophy came to be
known as the "realist" *via antiqua*, the
"old way" of doing philosophy and theology. By contrast,
it was precisely the radically different logical-semantical approach
initiated by William Ockham (ca. 1280-1350), and articulated and
systematized most powerfully by Jean Buridan (ca. 1300-1358),
that distinguished the "nominalist" *via moderna*,
the "modern way" of doing philosophy and theology from the
second half of the 14th century. The general, distinctive
characteristics of this "modern way" will be the discussed
in the ninth section. Finally, the concluding tenth section will
briefly indicate how the separation of the two *viae*, in
addition to a number of extrinsic social factors, contributed to the
disintegration of scholastic discourse, and thereby to the
disappearance of the characteristically medieval problem of
universals, as well as to the re-mergence of recognizably the same
problem in different guises in early modern philosophy.


## 2. The Emergence of the Problem



It is easy to see how the problem of universals emerges, if we
consider a geometrical demonstration, for example, the demonstration
of Thales' theorem. According to the theorem, any triangle
inscribed in a semicircle is a right triangle, as is shown in the
following diagram:



![Points A, B, and D are on a circle with center C. Line AB is a horizontal diameter through C. Lines AD, CD, and BD are also drawn forming 3 triangles: ABD, ACD, and DCB](image1.gif)

Figure 1. Thales' theorem




Looking at this diagram, we can see that all we need to prove is that
the angle at vertex D of triangle ABD is a right angle. The proof is
easy once we realize that since lines AC, DC, and BC are the radii of
a circle, the triangles ACD and DCB are isosceles triangles, whence
their base angles are equal. For then, if we denote the angles of ABD
by the names of their vertices, this fact entails that D=A + B; and
so, since A + B + D=180o, it follows that 2A +
2B=180o; therefore, A + B=90o, that is,
D=90o, **q. e. d.**



Of course, from our point of view, the important thing about this
demonstration is not so much the *truth* of its conclusion as
*the way* it proves this conclusion. For the conclusion is a
universal theorem, which has to concern all possible triangles
inscribed in any possible semicircle whatsoever, not just the one
inscribed in the semicircle in the figure above. Yet, apparently, in
the demonstration above we were talking only about that triangle. So,
how can we claim that whatever we managed to prove concerning that
particular triangle will hold for all possible triangles?



If we take a closer look at the diagram, we can easily see the appeal
of the Platonic answer to this question. For upon a closer look, it is
clear that, despite appearances to the contrary, this demonstration
*cannot* be about the triangle in this diagram. Indeed, in the
demonstration we assumed that the lines AC, DC, and BC were all
perfectly equal, straight lines. However, if we zoom in on the figure,
we can clearly see that these lines are far from being equal; in fact,
they are not even straight lines:



![Figure 1 magnified. The straight and circular lines of Figure 1 are no longer smooth; under increased magnification, they now appear as 'jagged' lines](image2.gif)

Figure 2. The result of zooming in on
Figure 1.




The demonstration was certainly not about the collection of jagged
black surfaces that we can see here. Rather, the demonstration
concerned something we did not see with our bodily eyes, but what we
had in mind all along, understanding it to be a triangle, with
perfectly straight edges, touching a perfect circle in three
unextended points, which are all perfectly equidistant from the center
of the circle. The figure we could see was only a convenient
"reminder" of what we are supposed to have in mind when we
want to prove that a certain property, namely, that it is a right
triangle, has to belong to the object in our mind in virtue of what it
is, namely, a triangle inscribed in a semicircle. Obviously, the
conclusion applies perfectly only to the perfect triangle we had in
mind, whereas it holds for the visible figure only insofar as, and to
the extent that, this figure resembles the object we had in mind. But
this figure fails to have this property precisely insofar as, and to
the extent that, it falls short of the object in our mind.



However, on the basis of this point it should also be clear that the
conclusion *does* apply to this figure, and every other visible
triangle inscribed in a semicircle as well, insofar as, and to the
extent that, it manages to imitate the properties of the perfect
object in our mind. Therefore, the Platonic answer to the question of
what this demonstration was about, namely, that it was about a
perfect, ideal triangle, which is invisible to the eyes, but is
graspable by our understanding, at once provides us with an
explanation of the possibility of universal, necessary knowledge. By
knowing the properties of the Form or Idea, we know all its
particulars, i.e., all the things that imitate it, insofar as they
imitate or participate in it. So, the Form itself is a universal
entity, a universal model of all its particulars; and since it is the
knowledge of this universal entity that can enable us to know at once
all its particulars, it is absolutely vital for us to know
*what* it is, *what* it is *like*, and exactly
*how* it is *related to* its particulars. However,
obviously, all these questions presuppose that *it* *is*
at all, namely, that such a universal entity *exists*.



But the existence of such an entity seems to be rather precarious.
Consider, for instance, the perfect triangle we were supposed to have
in mind during the demonstration of Thales' theorem. If it is a
perfect triangle, it obviously has to have three sides, since a
perfect triangle has to be a triangle, and nothing can be a triangle
unless it has three sides. But of those three sides either at least
two are equal or none, that is to say, the triangle in question has to
be either isosceles or scalene (taking 'isosceles'
broadly, including even equilateral triangles, for the sake of
simplicity). However, since it is supposed to be the universal model
of *all* triangles, and not only of isosceles triangles, this
perfect triangle cannot be an isosceles, and for the same reason it
cannot be a scalene triangle either. Therefore, such a universal
triangle would have to have inconsistent properties, namely,
*both* that it is either isosceles or scalene *and* that
it is neither isosceles nor scalene. However, obviously nothing can
have these properties at the same time, so nothing can be a universal
triangle any more than a round square. So, apparently, no universal
triangle can exist. But then, what was our demonstration about? Just a
little while ago, we concluded that it could not be directly about any
particular triangle (for it was not about the triangle in the figure,
and it was even less about any other particular triangle not in the
figure), and now we had to conclude that it could not be about a
universal triangle either. But are there any further alternatives? It
seems obvious that through this demonstration we do gain universal
knowledge concerning all particulars. Yet it is also clear that we do
not, indeed, we cannot gain this knowledge by examining all
particulars, both because they are potentially infinite and because
none of them perfectly satisfies the conditions stated in the
demonstration. So, there must have been something wrong in our
characterization of the universal, which compelled us to conclude
that, in accordance with that characterization, universals could not
exist. Therefore, we are left with a whole bundle of questions
concerning the nature and characteristics of universals, questions
that cannot be left unanswered if we want to know how universal,
necessary knowledge is possible, if at all.


## 3. The Origin of the Specifically Medieval Problem of Universals



What we may justifiably call the first formulation of "the
*medieval* problem of universals" (distinguishing it from
the both logically and historically related ancient problems of
Plato's Theory of Forms) was precisely such a bundle of
questions famously raised by Porphyry in his *Isagoge*, that
is, his *Introduction to Aristotle's Categories*. As he
wrote:



> 
> (1) Since, Chrysaorius, to teach about Aristotle's
> *Categories* it is necessary to know what genus and difference
> are, as well as species, property, and accident, and since reflection
> on these things is useful for giving definitions, and in general for
> matters pertaining to division and demonstration, therefore I shall
> give you a brief account and shall try in a few words, as in the
> manner of an introduction, to go over what our elders said about these
> things. I shall abstain from deeper enquiries and aim, as appropriate,
> at the simpler ones.
> 
> 
> (2) For example, I shall beg off saying anything about (a) whether
> genera and species are real or are situated in bare thoughts alone,
> (b) whether as real they are bodies or incorporeals, and (c) whether
> they are separated or in sensibles and have their reality in
> connection with them. Such business is profound, and requires another,
> greater investigation. Instead I shall now try to show how the
> ancients, the Peripatetics among them most of all, interpreted genus
> and species and the other matters before us in a more logical fashion.
> [Porphyry, *Isagoge*, in Spade 1994 (henceforth, *Five
> Texts*), p. 1.]
> 
> 
> 



Even though in this way, by relegating them to a "greater
investigation", Porphyry left these questions unanswered, they
certainly proved to be irresistible for his medieval Latin
commentators, beginning with Boethius, who produced not just one, but
two commentaries on Porphyry's text; the first based on Marius
Victorinus's (*fl*. 4th c.) translation, and
the second on his
 own.[6]



In the course of his argument, Boethius makes it quite clear what sort
of entity a universal would have to be.



> 
> A universal must be common to several particulars
> 
> 1. in its entirety, and not only in part
> 2. simultaneously, and not in a temporal succession, and
> 3. it should constitute the substance of its
>  particulars.[7]
> 
> 
> 



However, as Boethius argues, nothing in real existence can satisfy
these conditions. The main points of his argument can be reconstructed
as follows.



Anything that is common to many things in the required manner has to
be simultaneously, and as a whole, in the substance of these many
things. But these many things are several beings precisely because
they are distinct from one another in their being, that is to say, the
act of being of one is distinct from the act of being of the other.
However, if the universal constitutes the substance of a particular,
then it has to have the same act of being as the particular, because
constituting the substance of something means precisely this, namely,
sharing the act of being of the thing in question, as the
thing's substantial part. But the universal is supposed to
constitute the substance of all of its distinct particulars, as a
whole, at the same time. Therefore, the one act of being of the
universal entity would have to be identical with all the distinct acts
of being of its several particulars at the same time, which is
 impossible.[8]



This argument, therefore, establishes that no one thing can be a
universal in its being, that is to say, nothing can be both one being
and common to many beings in such a manner that it shares its act of
being with those many beings, constituting their substance.



This can easily be visualized in the following diagram, where the tiny
lightning bolts indicate the acts of being of the entities involved,
namely, a woman, a man, and their universal humanity (the larger
dotted figure).



![Consists of three 'matchstick human' characters (as on public bathroom doors), a bigger one on the top, drawn in dashed lines, representing the universal humanity, a female on the lower left and a male character on the lower right, representing individual humans. Each has a lightning bolt symbol next to it, representing their acts of being, showing that the acts of being of the individuals are not identical, while the act of being of the universal would have to be identical with these distinct acts of being, which is impossible.](image3.gif)

Figure 3. Illustration of the first part
of Boethius' argument




But then, Boethius goes on, we should perhaps say that the universal
is not one being, but rather many beings, that is, [the collection
 of][9]
 those constituents of the individual essences of its particulars on
account of which they all fall under the same universal predicable.
For example, on this conception, the genus 'animal' would
not be some one entity, a universal animality over and above the
individual animals, yet somehow sharing its being with them all
(since, as we have just seen, that is impossible), but rather [the
collection of] the individual animalities of all animals.



Boethius rejects this suggestion on the ground that whenever there are
several generically similar entities, they have to have a genus;
therefore, just as the individual animals had to have a genus, so too,
their individual animalities would have to have another one. However,
since the genus of animalities cannot be one entity, some
'super-animality' (for the same reason that the genus of
animals could not be one entity, on the basis of the previous
argument), it seems that the genus of animalities would have to be a
number of further 'super-animalities'. But then again, the
same line of reasoning should apply to these
'super-animalities', giving rise to a number of
'super-super-animalities', and so on to infinity, which is
absurd. Therefore, we cannot regard the genus as some real being even
in the form of [a collection of] several distinct entities. Since
similar reasonings would apply to the other Porphyrian predicables as
well, no universal can exist in this way.



Now, a universal either exists in reality independently of a mind
conceiving of it, or it only exists in the mind. If it exists in
reality, then it either has to be one being or several beings. But
since it cannot exist in reality in either of these two ways, Boethius
concludes that it can only exist in the
 mind.[10]



However, to complicate matters, it appears that a universal cannot
exist in the mind either. For, as Boethius says, the universal
existing in the mind is some universal understanding of some thing
outside the mind. But then this universal understanding is either
disposed in the same way as the thing is, or differently. If it is
disposed in the same way, then the thing also must be universal, and
then we end up with the previous problem of a really existing
universal. On the other hand, if it is disposed differently, then it
is false, for "what is understood otherwise than the thing is is
false" (*Five Texts*, Spade 1994, p. 23 (21)). But then,
all universals in the understanding would have to be false
representations of their objects; therefore, no universal knowledge
would be possible, whereas our considerations started out precisely
from the existence of such knowledge, as seems to be clear, e.g., in
the case of geometrical knowledge.


## 4. Boethius' Aristotelian Solution



Boethius' solution of the problem stated in this form consists
in the rejection of this last argument, by pointing out the ambiguity
of the principle that "what is understood otherwise than the
thing is is false". For in one sense this principle states the
obvious, namely, that an act of understanding that represents a thing
*to* *be* otherwise than the thing is is false. This is
precisely the reading of this principle that renders it plausible.
However, in another sense this principle would state that an act of
understanding which represents the thing in a manner which is
different from the manner in which the thing exists is false. In this
sense, then, the principle would state that if the mode of
representation of the act of understanding is different from the mode
of being of the thing, then the act of understanding is false. But
this is far from plausible. In general, it is simply not true that a
representation can be true or faithful only if the mode of
representation matches the mode of being of the thing represented. For
example, a written sentence is a true and faithful representation of a
spoken sentence, although the written sentence is a visible, spatial
sequence of characters, whereas the spoken sentence is an audible,
temporal pattern of articulated sounds. So, what exists as an audible
pattern of sounds is represented visually, that is, the mode of
existence of the thing represented is radically different from the
mode of its representation. In the same way, when particular things
are represented by a universal act of thought, the things exist in a
particular manner, while they are represented in a universal manner,
still, this need not imply that the representation is false. But this
is precisely the sense of the principle that the objection exploited.
Therefore, since in this sense the principle can be rejected, the
objection is not
 conclusive.[11]



However, it still needs to be shown that in the particular case of
universal representation the mismatch between the mode of its
representation and the mode of being of the thing represented does in
fact not entail the falsity of the representation. This can easily be
seen if we consider the fact that the falsity of an act of
understanding consists in representing something *to be* in a
way it is not. That is to say, properly speaking, it is only an act of
*judgment* that can be false, by which we think something
*to be* somehow. But a *simple* act of understanding, by
which we simply understand something without thinking it *to
be* somehow, that is, without attributing anything to it, cannot
be false. For example, I can be mistaken if I form in my mind the
judgment that a man *is* running, whereby I conceive a man
*to be* somehow, but if I simply think of a man without
attributing either running or not running to him, I certainly cannot
make a mistake as to how he
 *is*.[12]
 In the same way, I would be mistaken if I were to think that a
triangle is neither isosceles nor scalene, but I am certainly not in
error if I simply think of a triangle without thinking either that it
is isosceles or that it is scalene. Indeed, it is precisely this
possibility that allows me to form the universal mental
representation, that is, the universal concept of all particular
triangles, regardless of whether they are isosceles or scalene. For
when I think of a triangle in general, then I certainly do not think
of something that is a triangle and is neither isosceles nor scalene,
for that is impossible, but I simply think of a triangle, not thinking
that it is an isosceles and not thinking that it is a scalene
triangle. This is how the mind is able to separate in thought what are
inseparable in real existence. Being either isosceles or scalene is
inseparable from a triangle in real existence. For it is impossible
for something *to be* a triangle, and yet *not to be* an
isosceles and *not* *to be* a scalene triangle either.
Still, it is not impossible for something to be *thought to be*
a triangle and *not* to be *thought to be* an isosceles
and *not* to be *thought to be* a scalene triangle
either (although of course, it still has to be thought to be
either-isosceles-or-scalene). This separation in thought of those
things that cannot be separated in reality is the process of
 *abstraction*.[13]
 In general, by means of the process of abstraction, our mind (in
particular, the faculty of our mind Aristotle calls *active
intellect* (*nous poietikos*, in Greek, *intellectus
agens*, in Latin) is able to form universal representations of
particular objects by disregarding what distinguishes them, and
conceiving of them only in terms of those of their features in respect
of which they do not differ from one another.



In this way, therefore, if universals are regarded as universal mental
representations existing in the mind, then the contradictions emerging
from the Platonic conception no longer pose a threat. On this
Aristotelian conception, universals need not be thought of as somehow
sharing their being with all their distinct particulars, for their
being simply consists in their being thought of, or rather, the
particulars' being thought of in a universal manner. This is
what Boethius expresses by saying in his final replies to
Porphyry's questions the following:



> 
> 
> ... genera and species subsist in one way, but are understood in
> an another. They are incorporeal, but subsist in sensibles, joined to
> sensibles. They are understood, however, as subsisting by themselves,
> and as not having their being in others. [*Five Texts*, Spade
> 1994, p. 25]
> 
> 
> 



But then, if in this way, by positing universals in the mind, the most
obvious inconsistencies of Plato's doctrine can be avoided, no
wonder that Plato's "original" universals, the
universal models which particulars try to imitate by their features,
found their place, in accordance with the long-standing Neo-Platonic
tradition, in the divine
 mind.[14]
 It is this tradition that explains Boethius' cautious
formulation of his conclusion concerning Aristotelianism pure and
simple, as not providing us with the whole story. As he writes:



> 
> 
> ... Plato thinks that genera and species and the rest are not
> only understood as universals, but also exist and subsist apart from
> bodies. Aristotle, however, thinks that they are understood as
> incorporeal and universal, but subsist in sensibles.
> 
> 
> 
> I did not regard it as appropriate to decide between their views. For
> that belongs to a higher philosophy. But we have carefully followed
> out Aristotle's view here, not because we would recommend it the
> most, but because this book, [the *Isagoge*], is written about
> the *Categories*, of which Aristotle is the author. [*Five
> Texts*, Spade 1994, p. 25]
> 
> 
> 


## 5. Platonic Forms as Divine Ideas



Besides Boethius, the most important mediator between the Neo-Platonic
philosophical tradition and the Christianity of the Medieval Latin
West, pointing out also its theological implications, was St.
Augustine. In a passage often quoted by medieval authors in their
discussions of divine ideas, he writes as follows:



> 
> 
> ... in Latin we can call the Ideas "forms" or
> "species", in order to appear to translate word for word.
> But if we call them "reasons", we depart to be sure from a
> proper translation -- for reasons are called "logoi"
> in Greek, not Ideas -- but nevertheless, whoever wants to use
> this word will not be in conflict with the fact. For Ideas are certain
> principal, stable and immutable forms or reasons of things. They are
> not themselves formed, and hence they are eternal and always stand in
> the same relations, and they are contained in the divine
> understanding. [Spade 1985, Other Internet Resources, p.
>  383][15]
> 
> 
> 



As we could see from Boethius' solution, in this way, if
Platonic Forms are not universal beings existing in a universal
manner, but their universality is due to a universal manner of
understanding, we can avoid the contradictions arising from the
"naive" Platonic conception. Nevertheless, placing
universal ideas in the divine mind as the archetypes of creation, this
conception can still do justice to the Platonic intuition that what
accounts for the necessary, universal features of the ephemeral
particulars of the visible world is the presence of some universal
exemplars in the source of their being. It is precisely in virtue of
having some insight into these exemplars themselves that we can have
the basis of universal knowledge Plato was looking for. As St.
Augustine continues:



> 
> 
> And although they neither arise nor perish, nevertheless everything
> that is able to arise and perish, and everything that does arise and
> perish, is said to be formed in accordance with them. Now it is denied
> that the soul can look upon them, unless it is a rational one, [and
> even then it can do so] only by that part of itself by which it
> surpasses [other things] -- that is, by its mind and reason, as
> if by a certain "face", or by an inner and intelligible
> "eye". To be sure, not each and every rational soul in
> itself, but [only] the one that is holy and pure, that [is the one
> that] is claimed to be fit for such a vision, that is, the one that
> keeps that very eye, by which these things are seen, healthy and pure
> and fair and like the things it means to see. What devout man imbued
> with true religion, even though he is not yet able to see these
> things, nevertheless dares to deny, or for that matter fails to
> profess, that all things that exist, that is, whatever things are
> contained in their own genus with a certain nature of their own, so
> that that they might exist, are begotten by God their author, and that
> by that same author everything that lives is alive, and that the
> entire safe preservation and the very order of things, by which
> changing things repeat their temporal courses according to a fixed
> regimen, are held together and governed by the laws of a supreme God?
> If this is established and granted, who dares to say that God has set
> up all things in an irrational manner? Now if it is not correct to say
> or believe this, it remains that all things are set up by reason, and
> a man not by the same reason as a horse -- for that is absurd to
> suppose. Therefore, single things are created with their own reasons.
> But where are we to think these reasons exist, if not in the mind of
> the creator? For he did not look outside himself, to anything placed
> [there], in order to set up what he set up. To think that is
> sacrilege. But if these reasons of all things to be created and
> [already] created are contained in the divine mind, and [if] there
> cannot be anything in the divine mind that is not eternal and
> unchangeable, and [if] Plato calls these principal reasons of things
> "Ideas", [then] not only are there Ideas but they are
> true, because they are eternal and [always] stay the same way, and
> [are] unchangeable. And whatever exists comes to exist, however it
> exists, by participation in them. But among the things set up by God,
> the rational soul surpasses all [others], and is closest to God when
> it is pure. And to the extent that it clings to God in charity, to
> that extent, drenched in a certain way and lit up by that intelligible
> light, it discerns these reasons, not by bodily eyes but by that
> principal [part] of it by which it surpasses [everything else], that
> is, by its intelligence. By this vision it becomes most blessed. These
> reasons, as was said, whether it is right to call them Ideas or forms
> or species or reasons, many are permitted to call [them] whatever they
> want, but [only] to a very few [is it permitted] to see what is true.
> [Spade 1985, Other Internet Resources, pp. 383-384]
> 
> 
> 



Augustine's conception, then, saves Plato's original
intuitions, yet without their inconsistencies, while it also combines
his philosophical insights with Christianity. But, as a rule, a really
intriguing solution of a philosophical problem usually gives rise to a
number of further problems. This solution of the original problem with
Plato's Forms is no exception.


### 5.1 Divine Ideas and Divine Simplicity



First of all, it generates a particular ontological/theological
problem concerning the relationship between God and His Ideas. For
according to the traditional philosophical conception of divine
perfection, God's perfection demands that He is absolutely
simple, without any composition of any sort of
 parts.[16]
 So, God and the divine mind are not related to one another as a man
and his mind, namely as a substance to one of its several powers, but
whatever powers God *has* He *is*. Furthermore, the
Divine Ideas themselves cannot be regarded as being somehow the
eternal products of the divine mind distinct from the divine mind, and
thus from God Himself, for the only eternal being is God, and
everything else is His creature. Now, since the Ideas are not
creatures, but the archetypes of creatures in God's mind, they
cannot be distinct from God. However, as is clear from the passage
above, there are several Ideas, and there is only one God. So how can
these several Ideas possibly be one and the same God?



Augustine never explicitly raised the problem, but for example
Aquinas, who (among others) did, provided the following rather
intuitive solution for it (ST1, q. 15, a. 2). The Divine Ideas are in
the Divine Mind as its objects, i.e., as the things understood. But
the diversity of the objects of an act of understanding need not
diversify the act itself (as when understanding the Pythagorean
theorem, we understand both squares and triangles). Therefore, it is
possible for the self-thinking divine essence to understand itself in
a single act of understanding so perfectly that this act of
understanding not only understands the divine essence as it is in
itself, but also in respect of all possible ways in which it can be
imperfectly participated by any finite creature. The cognition of the
diversity of these diverse ways of participation accounts for the
plurality of divine ideas. But since all these diverse ways are
understood in a single eternal act of understanding, which is nothing
but the act of divine being, and which in turn is again the divine
essence itself, the multiplicity of ideas does not entail any
corresponding multiplicity of the divine essence. To be sure, this
solution may still give rise to the further questions as to what these
diverse ways are, exactly how they are related to the divine essence,
and how their diversity is compatible with the unity and simplicity of
the ultimate object of divine thought, namely, divine essence itself.
In fact, these are questions that were raised and discussed in detail
by authors such as Henry of Ghent (c. 1217-1293), Thomas of
Sutton (ca. 1250-1315), Duns Scotus (c. 1266-1308) and
 others.[17]


### 5.2 Illuminationism vs. Abstractionism



Another major issue connected to the doctrine of divine ideas, as
should also be clear from the previously quoted passage, was the
bundle of epistemological questions involved in Augustine's
doctrine of divine illumination. The doctrine -- according to
which the human soul, especially "one that is holy and
pure", obtains a specific supernatural aid in its acts of
understanding, by gaining a direct insight into the Divine Ideas
themselves -- received philosophical support in terms of a
typically Platonic argument in Augustine's *De Libero
 Arbitrio*.[18]
 The argument can be reconstructed as follows.



> 
> **The Augustinian Argument for Illumination**.
> 
> 1. I can come to know from experience only something that can be
> found in experience [self-evident]
> 2. Absolute unity cannot be found in experience [assumed]
> 3. Therefore, I cannot come to know absolute unity from experience.
> [1,2]
> 4. Whatever I know, but I cannot come to know from experience, I came
> to know from a source that is not in this world of experiences.
> [self-evident]
> 5. I know absolute unity. [assumed]
> 6. Therefore, I came to know absolute unity from a source that is not
> in this world of experiences. [3,4,5]
> 
> 
> 
> *Proof of 2*. Whatever can be found in experience is some
> material being, extended in space, and so it has to have a multitude
> of spatially distinct parts. Therefore, it is many in respect of those
> parts. But what is many in some respect is not one in that respect,
> and what is not one in some respect is not absolutely one. Therefore,
> nothing can be found in experience that is absolutely one, that is,
> nothing in experience is an absolute unity.
> 
> 
> 
> *Proof of 5*. I know that whatever is given in experience has
> many parts (even if I may not be able to discern those parts by my
> senses), and so I know that it is not an absolute unity. But I can
> have this knowledge only if I know absolute unity, namely, something
> that is not many in any respect, not even in respect of its parts,
> for, in general, I can know that something is F in a certain respect,
> and not an F in some other respect, only if I know what it is for
> something to be an F without any qualification. (For example, I know
> that the two halves of a body, taken together, are not absolutely two,
> for taken one by one, they are not absolutely one, since they are also
> divisible into two halves, etc. But I can know this only because I
> know that for obtaining absolutely two things [and not just two
> multitudes of further things], I would have to have two things that in
> themselves are absolutely one.) Therefore, I know absolute unity.
> 
> 
> 



It is important to notice here that this argument (crucially) assumes
that the intellect is passive in acquiring its concepts. According to
this assumption, the intellect merely receives the cognition of its
objects as it finds them. By contrast, on the Aristotelian conception,
the human mind actively processes the information it receives from
experience through the senses. So by means of its faculty
appropriately called the active or agent intellect, it is able to
produce from a limited number of experiences a universal concept
equally representing all possible particulars falling under that
concept. In his commentary on Aristotle's *De Anima*
Aquinas insightfully remarks:



> 
> 
> The reason why Aristotle came to postulate an active intellect was his
> rejection of Plato's theory that the essences of sensible things
> existed apart from matter, in a state of actual intelligibility. For
> Plato there was clearly no need to posit an active intellect. But
> Aristotle, who regarded the essences of sensible things as existing in
> matter with only a potential intelligibility, had to invoke some
> abstractive principle in the mind itself to render these essences
> actually intelligible. [*In De Anima*, bk. 3, lc. 10]
> 
> 
> 



On the basis of these and similar considerations, therefore, one may
construct a rather plausible Aristotelian counterargument, which is
designed to show that we need not necessarily gain our concept of
absolute unity from a supernatural source, for it is possible for us
to obtain it from experience by means of the active intellect. Of
course, similar considerations should apply to other concepts as
well.



> 
> **An Aristotelian-Thomistic counterargument from
> abstraction**.
> 
> 1. I know from experience everything whose concept my active
> intellect is able to abstract from experience. [self-evident]
> 2. But my active intellect is able to abstract from experience the
> concept of unity, since we all experience each singular thing as being
> one, distinct from another. [self-evident, common
>  experience][19]
> 3. Therefore, I know unity from experience by abstraction. [1,2]
> 4. Whenever I know something from experience by abstraction, I know
> both the thing whose concept is abstracted and its limiting conditions
> from which its concept is abstracted. [self-evident]
> 5. Therefore, I know both unity and its limiting conditions from
> which its concept is abstracted. [3,4]
> 6. But whenever I know something and its limiting conditions, and I
> can conceive of it without its limiting conditions (and this is
> precisely what happens in abstraction), I can conceive of its
> absolute, unlimited realization. [self-evident]
> 7. Therefore, I can conceive of the absolute, unlimited realization
> of unity, based on the concept of unity I acquired from experience by
> abstraction. [5,6]
> 8. Therefore, it is not necessary for me to have a preliminary
> knowledge of absolute unity before all experience, from a source other
> than this world of experiences. [7]
> 
> 
> 



To be sure, we should notice here that this argument *does*
*not* *falsify* *the doctrine* of illumination.
Provided it works, it only *invalidates* the
Augustinian-Platonic *argument* for illumination. Furthermore,
this is obviously not a sweeping, knock-down refutation of the idea
that at least some of our concepts perhaps could not so simply be
derived from experience by abstraction; in fact, in the particular
case of unity, and in general, in connection with our transcendental
notions (i.e., notions that apply in each Aristotelian category, so
they *transcend* the limits of each one of them, such as the
notions of *being*, *unity*, *goodness*,
*truth*, etc.), even the otherwise consistently Aristotelian
Aquinas would have a more complicated story to tell (see Klima 2000b).
Nevertheless, although Aquinas would still leave some room for
illumination in his epistemology, he would provide for illumination an
entirely naturalistic interpretation, as far as the acquisition of our
intellectual concepts of material things is concerned, by simply
identifying it with the "intellectual light in us", that
is, the active intellect, which enables us to acquire these concepts
from experience by
 abstraction.[20]
 Duns Scotus, who opposed Aquinas on so many other points, takes
basically the same stance on this issue. Other medieval theologians,
especially such prominent "Augustinians" as Bonaventure,
Matthew of Aquasparta, or Henry of Ghent, would provide greater room
for illumination in the form of a direct, specific, supernatural
influence needed for human intellectual cognition in this life besides
the general divine cooperation needed for the workings of our natural
powers, in particular, the abstractive function of the active
 intellect.[21]
 But they would not regard illumination as supplanting, but rather as
supplementing intellectual abstraction.



As we could see, Augustine makes recognition of truth dependent on
divine illumination, a sort of irradiation of the intelligible light
of divine ideas, which is accessible only to the few who are
"holy and pure".



But this seems to go against at least



> 
> 
> 1. the experience that there are knowledgeable non-believers or
> pagans
> 
> 
> 
> 2. the Aristotelian insight that we can have infallible comprehension
> of the first principles of scientific demonstrations for which we only
> need the intellectual concepts that we can acquire naturally, from
> experience by
>  abstraction,[22]
> 
> 
> 



and



> 
> 
> 3. the philosophical-theological consideration that if human reason,
> man's natural faculty for acquiring truth were not sufficient
> for performing its natural function, then human nature would be
> naturally defective in its noblest part, precisely in which it was
> created after the image of God.
> 
> 
> 



In fact, these are only some of the problems explicitly raised and
considered by medieval Augustinians, which prompted their ever more
refined accounts of the role of illumination in human cognition.



For example, Matthew of Aquasparta, recapitulating St. Bonaventure,
writes as follows:



> 
> 
> Plato and his followers stated that the entire essence of cognition
> comes forth from the archetypal or intelligible world, and from the
> ideal reasons; and they stated that the eternal light contributes to
> certain cognition in its evidentness as the entire and sole reason for
> cognition, as Augustine in many places recites, in particular in bk.
> viii. c. 7 of *The City of God*: 'The light of minds for
> the cognition of everything is God himself, who created
> everything'.
> 
> 
> 
> But this position is entirely mistaken. For although it appears to
> secure the way of wisdom, it destroys the way of knowledge.
> Furthermore, if that light were the entire and sole reason for
> cognition, then the cognition of things in the Word would not differ
> from their cognition in their proper kind, neither would the cognition
> of reason differ from the cognition of revelation, nor philosophical
> cognition from prophetic cognition, nor cognition by nature from
> cognition by grace.
> 
> 
> 
> The other position was apparently that of Aristotle, who claimed that
> the entire essence of cognition is caused and comes from below,
> through the senses, memory, and experience, [working together] with
> the natural light of our active intellect, which abstracts the species
> from phantasms and makes them actually understood. And for this reason
> he did not claim that the eternal is light necessary for cognition,
> indeed, he never spoke about it. And this opinion of his is obvious in
> bk. 2 of the *Posterior Analytics*. [...]
> 
> 
> 
> But this position seems to be very deficient. For although it builds
> the way of knowledge, it totally destroys the way of wisdom.
> [...]
> 
> 
> 
> Therefore, I take it that one should maintain an intermediate position
> without prejudice, by stating that our cognition is caused both from
> below and from above, from external things as well as the ideal
> reasons.
> 
> 
> 
> [...] God has provided our mind with some intellectual light, by
> means of which it would abstract the species of objects from the
> sensibles, by purifying them and extracting their quiddities, which
> are the per se objects of the intellect. [...] But this light is
> not sufficient, for it is defective, and is mixed with obscurity,
> unless it is joined and connected to the eternal light, which is the
> perfect and sufficient reason for cognition, and the intellect attains
> and somehow touches it by its upper part.
> 
> 
> 
> However the intellect attains that light or those eternal reasons as
> the reason for cognition not as sole reason, for then, as has been
> said, cognition in the Word would not differ from cognition in proper
> kind, nor the cognition of wisdom would differ from the cognition of
> knowledge. Nor does it attain them as the entire reason, for then it
> would not need the species and similitudes of things; but this is
> false, for the Philosopher says, and experience teaches, that if
> someone loses a sense, then he loses that knowledge of things which
> comes from that sense. [DHCR, pp. 94-96]
> 
> 
> 



In this way, taking the intermediate position between Platonism and
Aristotelianism pure and simple, Matthew interprets Augustine's
Platonism as being compatible with the Aristotelian view, crediting
the Aristotelian position with accounting for the specific empirical
content of our intellectual concepts, while crediting the Platonic
view with accounting for their certainty in grasping the natures of
things. Still, it may not appear quite clear exactly what the
contribution of the eternal light is, indeed, whether it is necessary
at all. After all, if by abstraction we manage to gain those
intellectual concepts that represent the natures of things, what else
is needed to have a grasp of those natures?



Henry of Ghent, in his detailed account of the issue, provides an
interesting answer to this question. Henry first distinguishes
cognition of a true thing from the cognition of the truth of the
thing. Since any really existing thing is truly what it is (even if it
may on occasion appear something else), any cognition of any really
existing thing is the cognition of a true thing. But cognition of a
true thing may occur without the cognition of its truth, since the
latter is the cognition that the thing adequately corresponds to its
exemplar in the human or divine mind. For example, if I draw a circle,
when a cat sees it, then it sees the real true thing as it is
presented to it. Yet the cat is simply unable to judge whether it is a
true circle in the sense that it really is what it is supposed to be,
namely, a locus of points equidistant from a given point. By contrast,
a human being is able to judge the truth of this thing, insofar as he
or she would be able to tell that my drawing is not really and truly a
circle, but is at best a good approximation of what a true circle
would be.



Now, in intellectual cognition, just as in the sensory cognition of
things, when the intellect simply apprehends a true thing, then it
still does not have to judge the truth of the thing, even though it
may have a true apprehension, adequately representing the thing. But
the cognition of the truth of the thing only occurs in a judgment,
when the intellect judges the adequacy of the thing to its
exemplar.



But since a thing can be compared to two sorts of exemplar, namely, to
the exemplar in the human mind, and to the exemplar in the divine
mind, the cognition of the truth of a thing is twofold, relative to
these two exemplars. The exemplar of the human mind, according to
Henry, is nothing but the Aristotelian abstract concept of the thing,
whereby the thing is simply apprehended in a universal manner, and
hence its truth is judged relative to this concept, when the intellect
judges that the thing in question falls under this concept or not. As
Henry writes:



> 
> 
> [...] attending to the exemplar gained from the thing as the
> reason for its cognition in the cognizer, the truth of the thing can
> indeed be recognized, by forming a concept of the thing that conforms
> to that exemplar; and it is in this way that Aristotle asserted that
> man gains knowledge and cognition of the truth from purely natural
> sources about changeable natural things, and that this exemplar is
> acquired from things by means of the senses, as from the first
> principle of art and science. [...] So, by means of the universal
> notion in us that we have acquired from the several species of animals
> we are able to realize concerning any thing that comes our way whether
> it is an animal or not, and by means of the specific notion of donkey
> we realize concerning any thing that comes our way whether it is a
> donkey or not. [HQO, a. 1, q. 2, fol. 5 E-F]
> 
> 
> 



But this sort of cognition of the truth of a thing, although it is
intellectual, universal cognition, is far from being the infallible
knowledge we are seeking. As Henry argues further:



> 
> 
> But by this sort of acquired exemplar in us we do not have the
> entirely certain and infallible cognition of truth. Indeed, this is
> entirely impossible for three reasons, the first of which is taken
> from the thing from which this exemplar is abstracted, the second from
> the soul, in which this exemplar is received, and the third from the
> exemplar itself that is received in the soul about the thing.
> 
> 
> 
> The first reason is that this exemplar, since it is abstracted from
> changeable things, has to share in the nature of changeability.
> Therefore, since physical things are more changeable than mathematical
> objects, this is why the Philosopher claimed that we have a greater
> certainty of knowledge about mathematical objects than about physical
> things by means of their universal species. And this is why Augustine,
> discussing this cause of the uncertainty of the knowledge of natural
> things in q. 9 of his *Eighty-Three Different Questions*, says
> that from the bodily senses one should not expect the pure truth
> [*syncera veritas*]
> 
> 
> 
> ... The second reason is that the human soul, since it is
> changeable and susceptible to error, cannot be rectified to save it
> from swerving into error by anything that is just as changeable as
> itself, or even more; therefore, any exemplar that it receives from
> natural things is necessarily just as changeable as itself, or even
> more, since it is of an inferior nature, whence it cannot rectify the
> soul so that it would persist in the infallible truth.
> 
> 
> 
> ... The third reason is that this sort of exemplar, since it is
> the intention and species of the sensible thing abstracted from the
> phantasm, is similar to the false as well as to the true [thing], so
> that on its account these cannot be distinguished. For it is by means
> of the same images of sensible things that in dreams and madness we
> judge these images to be the things, and in sane awareness we judge
> the things themselves. But the pure truth can only be perceived by
> discerning it from falsehood. Therefore, by means of such an exemplar
> it is impossible to have certain knowledge, and certain cognition of
> the truth. And so if we are to have certain knowledge of the truth,
> then we have to turn our mind away from the senses and sensible
> things, and from every intention, no matter how universal and
> abstracted from sensible things, to the unchangeable truth existing
> above the mind [...]. [*ibid.*, fol. 5. F]
> 
> 
> 



So, Henry first distinguished between the cognition of a true thing
and the intellectual cognition of the truth of a thing, and then,
concerning the cognition of the truth of the thing, he distinguished
between the cognition of truth by means of a concept abstracted from
the thing and "the pure truth" [*veritas syncera vel
liquida*], which he says cannot be obtained by means of such
abstracted concepts.



But then the question naturally arises: what is this "pure
truth", and how can it be obtained, if at all? Since cognition
of the pure truth involves comparison of objects not to their acquired
exemplar in the human mind, but to their eternal exemplar in the
divine mind, in the ideal case it would consist in some sort of direct
insight into the divine ideas, enabling the person who has this access
to see everything in its true form, as "God meant it to
be", and also see how it fails to live up to its idea due to its
defects. So, it would be like the direct intuition of two objects, one
sensible, another intelligible, on the basis of which one could also
immediately judge how closely the former approaches the latter. But
this sort of direct intuition of the divine ideas is only the share of
angels and the souls of the blessed in beatific vision; it is
generally not granted in this life, except in rare, miraculous cases,
in rapture, or prophetic vision.



Therefore, if there is to be any non-miraculous recognition of this
pure truth in this life, then it has to occur differently. Henry
argues that even if we do not have a direct intuition of divine ideas
as the objects cognized (whereby their particulars are recognized as
more or less approximating them), we do have the cognition of the
quiddities of things as the objects cognized by reason of some
indirect cognition of their ideas. The reason for this, Henry says, is
the following:



> 
> 
> ...for our concept to be true by the pure truth, the soul,
> insofar as it is informed by it, has to be similar to the truth of the
> thing outside, since truth is a certain adequacy of the thing and the
> intellect. And so, as Augustine says in bk. 2 of *On Free Choice of
> the Will*, since the soul by itself is liable to slip from truth
> into falsity, whence by itself it is not informed by the truth of any
> thing, although it can be informed by it, but nothing can inform
> itself, for nothing can give what it does not have; therefore, it is
> necessary that it be informed of the pure truth of a thing by
> something else. But this cannot be done by the exemplar received from
> the thing itself, as has been shown earlier [in the previously quoted
> passage -- GK]. It is necessary, therefore, that it be informed
> by the exemplar of the unchangeable truth, as Augustine intends in the
> same place. And this is why he says in *On True Religion* that
> just as by its truth are true those that are true, so too by its
> similitude are similar those that are similar. It is necessary,
> therefore, that the unchangeable truth impress itself into our
> concept, and that it transform our concept to its own character, and
> that in this way it inform our mind with the expressed truth of the
> thing by the same similitude that the thing itself has in the first
> truth. [HQO a. 1, q. 2, fol. 7, I]
> 
> 
> 



So, when we have the cognition of the pure truth of a thing, then we
cannot have it in terms of the concept acquired from the thing, yet,
since we cannot have it from a direct intuition of the divine exemplar
either, the way we can have it is that the acquired concept primarily
impressed on our mind will be further clarified, but no longer by a
similarity of the thing, but by the similarity of the divine exemplar
itself. Henry's point seems to be that given that the external
thing itself is already just a (more or less defective) copy of the
exemplar, the (more or less defective) copy of this copy can only be
improved by means of the original exemplar, just as a copy of a poor
repro of some original picture can only be improved by retouching the
copy not on the basis of the poor repro, but on the basis of the
original. But since the external thing is fashioned after its divine
idea, the "retouching" of the concept in terms of the
original idea does yield a better representation of the thing; indeed,
so much better that on the basis of this "retouched"
concept we are even able to judge just how well the thing realizes its
kind.



For example, when I simply have the initial simple concept of circle
abstracted from circular objects I have seen, that concept is good
enough for me to tell circular objects apart from non-circular ones.
But with this simple, unanalyzed concept in mind, I may still not be
able to say what a true circle is supposed to be, and accordingly,
exactly how and to what extent the more or less circular objects I see
fail or meet this standard. However, when I come to understand that a
circle is a locus of points equidistant from a given point, I will
realize by means of a clear and distinct concept what it was that I
originally conceived in a vague and confused manner in my original
concept of
 circle.[23]



To be sure, I do not come to this definition of circle by looking up
to the heaven of Ideas; in fact, I may just be instructed about it by
my geometry teacher. But what is not given to me by my geometry
teacher is the understanding of the fact that what is expressed by the
definition is indeed what I originally rather vaguely conceived by my
concept abstracted from visible circles. This "flash" of
understanding, when I realize that it is necessary for anything that
truly matches the concept of a circle to be such as described in the
definition, would be an instance of receiving illumination without any
particular, miraculous
 revelation.[24]



However, even if in this light Henry's distinctions between the
two kinds of truths and the corresponding differences of concepts make
good sense, and even if we accept that the concepts primarily accepted
from sensible objects need to be further worked on in order to provide
us with true, clear understanding of the natures of things, it is not
clear that this further work cannot be done by the natural faculties
of our mind, assuming only the general influence of God in sustaining
its natural operations, but without performing any direct and specific
"retouching" of our concepts "from above".
Using our previous analogy of the acquired concept as the copy of a
poor repro of an original, we may say that if we have a number of
different poor, fuzzy repros that are defective in a number of
different ways, then in a long and complex process of collating them,
we might still be able discern the underlying pattern of the original,
and thus produce a copy that is actually closer to the original than
any of the direct repros, without ever being allowed a glimpse of the
original.



In fact, this was precisely the way Aristotelian theologians, such as
Aquinas, interpreted Augustine' conception of illumination,
reducing God's role to providing us with the intelligible light
not by directly operating on any of our concepts in particular, but
providing the mind with "a certain likeness of the uncreated
light, obtained through participation" (ST1, q. 84, a. 5c),
namely, the agent intellect.



Matthew of Aquasparta quite faithfully describes this view,
associating it with the Aristotelian position he rejects:



> 
> 
> Some people engaged in "philosophizing" [*quidam
> philosophantes*] follow this position, although not entirely, when
> they assert that that light is the general cause of certain cognition,
> but is not attained, and its special influence is not necessary in
> natural cognition; but the light of the agent intellect is sufficient
> together with the species and similitudes of things abstracted and
> received from the things; for otherwise the operation of [our] nature
> would be rendered vacuous, our intellect would understand only by
> coincidence, and our cognition would not be natural, but supernatural.
> And what Augustine says, namely, that everything is seen in and
> through that light, is not to be understood as if the intellect would
> somehow attain that light, nor as if that light would have some
> specific influence on it, but in such a way that the eternal God
> naturally endowed us with intellectual light, in which we naturally
> cognize and see all cognizable things that are within the scope of
> reason. [DHCR, p. 95]
> 
> 
> 



Although Matthew vehemently rejects this position as going against
Augustine's original intention ("which is unacceptable,
since he is a prominent teacher, whom catholic teachers and especially
theologians ought to follow" -- as Matthew says), this
view, in ever more refined versions, gained more and more ground
toward the end of the 13th century, adopted not only by Aquinas and
his followers, but also by his major opponents, namely, Scotus and his
 followers.[25]



Still, illuminationism and abstractionism were never treated by
medieval thinkers as mutually exclusive alternatives. They rather
served as the two poles of a balancing act in judging the respective
roles of nature and direct divine intervention in human intellectual
 cognition.[26]



Although Platonism definitely survived throughout the Middle Ages (and
beyond), in the guise of the interconnected doctrines of divine ideas,
participation, and illumination, there was a quite general
Aristotelian
 consensus,[27]
 especially after Abelard's time, that the mundane universals of
the species and genera of material beings exist as such *in the
human mind*, as a result of the mind's abstracting from
their individuating conditions. But consensus concerning this much by
no means entailed a unanimous agreement on exactly what the universals
thus abstracted are, what it is for them to exist in the mind, how
they are related to their particulars, what their real foundation in
those particulars is, what their role is in the constitution of our
universal knowledge, and how they contribute to the encoding and
communication of this knowledge in the various human languages. For
although the general Aristotelian stance towards universals
successfully handles the inconsistencies quite obviously generated by
a naive Platonist ontology, it gives rise precisely to these
further problems of its own.


## 6. Universals According to Abelard's Aristotelian Conception



It was Abelard who first dealt with the problem of universals
explicitly in this form. Having relatively easily disposed of putative
universal forms as real entities corresponding to Boethius'
definition, in his *Logica Ingredientibus* he concludes that
given Aristotle's definition of universals in his *On
Interpretation* as those things that can be predicated of several
things, it is only universal *words* that can be regarded as
really existing universals. However, since according to
Aristotle's account in the same work, words are meaningful in
virtue of signifying concepts in the mind, Abelard soon arrives at the
following questions:


1. What is the *common cause* in accordance with which a
common name is imposed?
2. What is the understanding's *common conception* of
the likeness of things?
3. Is a word called "common" on account of the common
cause things agree in, or on account of the common conception, or on
account of both together? [*Five Texts*, Spade 1994, p. 41
(88)]



These questions open up a new chapter in the history of the problem of
universals. For these questions add a new aspect to the bundle of the
originally primarily ontological, epistemological, and theological
questions constituting the problem, namely, they add a
*semantic* aspect. On the Aristotelian conception of universals
as universal *predicables*, there obviously *are*
universals, namely, our universal words. But the universality of our
words is clearly not dependent on the physical qualities of our
articulate sounds, or of the various written marks indicating them,
but on their representative function. So, to give an account of the
universality of our universal words, we have to be able to tell in
virtue of what they have this universal representative function, that
is to say, we have to be able to assign a *common cause* by the
recognition of which in terms of a *common concept* we can give
a *common name* to a *potential infinity of individuals*
belonging to the same kind.



But this common cause certainly cannot be a *common thing* in
the way Boethius described universal things, for, as we have seen, the
assumption of the existence of such a common thing leads to
contradictions. To be sure, Abelard also provides a number of further
arguments, dealing with several refinements of Boethius'
characterization of universals proposed by his contemporaries, such as
William of Champeaux, Bernard of Chartres, Clarembald of Arras,
Jocelin of Soissons, and Walter of Mortagne - but I cannot go
into those details
 here.[28]
 The point is that he refutes and rejects all these suggestions to
save real universals either as common things, having their own real
unity, or as collections of several things, having a merely collective
unity. The gist of his arguments against the former view is that the
universal thing on that view would have to have its own numerical
unity, and therefore, since it constitutes the substance of all its
singulars, all these singulars would have to be substantially one and
the same thing which would have to have all their contrary properties
at the same time, which is impossible. The main thrust of his
arguments against the collection-theory is that collections are
arbitrary integral wholes of the individuals that make them up, so
they simply do not fill the bill of the Porphyrian characterizations
of the essential predicables such as genera and
 species.[29]



So, the common cause of the imposition of universal words cannot be
any one thing, or a multitude of things; yet, being a common
*cause*, it cannot be nothing. Therefore, this common cause,
which Abelard calls the
 *status*[30]
 of those things to which it is common, is a cause, but it is a cause
which is a non-thing. However strange this may sound, Abelard observes
that sometimes we do assign *causes* which are not
*things*. For example, when we say "The ship was wrecked
because the pilot was absent", the cause that we assign, namely,
that the pilot was absent is not some *thing*, it is rather
*how* things were, i.e., the *way* things were, which in
this case we signify by the whole proposition "The pilot was
 absent".[31]
 From the point of view of understanding what Abelard's
*status* are, it is significant that he assimilates the causal
role of *status* as the common cause of imposition to causes
that are signified by whole propositions. These *significata*
of whole propositions, which in English we may refer to by using the
corresponding "that-clauses" (as I did above, referring to
the cause of the ship's wreck by the phrase "that the
pilot was absent"), and in Latin by an
accusative-with-infinitive construction, are what Abelard calls the
*dicta* of propositions. These *dicta*, not being
identifiable with any single thing, yet, not being nothing, constitute
an ontological realm that is completely different from that of
ordinary things. But it is also in this realm that Abelard's
*common causes of imposition* may find their place.



Abelard says that the common cause of imposition of a universal name
has to be something in which things falling under that name agree. For
example, the name 'man' (in the sense of 'human
being', and not in the sense of 'male human being')
is imposed on all humans on account of something in which all humans,
as such, agree. But that in which all humans as such agree is that
each one of them is a man, that is, each one agrees with all others in
their *being a man*. So, it is their being human [*esse
hominem*] that is the common cause Abelard was looking for, and
this is what he calls the *status* of man. The *status*
of man is not a thing; it is not any singular man, for obviously no
singular man is common to all men, and it is not a universal man, for
there is no such a thing. But *being a man* is common in the
required manner (i.e., it is something in which all humans agree), yet
it is clearly not a thing. For let us consider the singular
propositions 'Socrates is a man' [*Socrates est
homo*], 'Plato is a man' [*Plato est homo*],
etc. These signify their *dicta*, namely, Socrates's
being a man [*Socratem esse hominem*], and Plato's being
a man [*Platonem esse hominem*], etc. But then it is clear that
if we abstract from the singular subjects and retain what is common to
them all, we can get precisely the *status* in which all these
subjects agree, namely, being a man [*esse hominem*]. So, the
*status*, just like the *dicta* from which they can be
obtained, constitute an ontological realm that is entirely different
from that of ordinary things.



Still, despite the fact that it clearly has to do something with
abstraction, an activity of the mind, Abelard insists that a
*status* is not a concept of our mind. The reason for his
insistence is that the *status*, being the *common
cause* of imposition of a common name, must be something real, the
existence of which is not dependent on the activity of our minds. A
*status* is there in the nature of things, regardless of
whether we form a mental act whereby we recognize it or not. In fact,
for Abelard, a *status* is an object of the divine mind,
whereby God preconceives the state of his creation from
 eternity.[32]
 A concept, or mental image *of our mind*, however, exists as
the object of our mind only insofar as our mind performs the mental
act whereby it forms this object. But this object, again, is not a
thing, indeed, not any more than any other fictitious object of our
minds. However, what distinguishes the *universal concept* from
a merely *fictitious object* of our mind is that the former
corresponds to a *status* of really existing singular things,
whereas the latter does not have anything corresponding to it.



To be sure, there are a number of points left in obscurity by
Abelard's discussion concerning the relationships of the items
distinguished here. For example, Abelard says that we cannot conceive
of the *status*. However, it seems that we can only signify by
our words whatever we can conceive. Yet, Abelard insists that besides
our concepts, our words *must* signify the *status*
 themselves.[33]
 A solution to the problem is only hinted at in Abelard's remark
that the names can signify *status*, because "their
inventor *meant* to impose them in accordance with certain
natures or characteristics of things, even if he did not know how to
think out the nature or characteristic of the thing" (*Five
Texts*, Spade 1994, p. 46 (116)). So, we may assume that although
the inventor of the name does not know the *status*, his vague,
"senses-bound" conception, *from which* he takes
his word's signification, is directed at the *status*, as
to *that which* he *intends* to
 signify.[34]
 However, Abelard does not work out this suggestion in any further
detail. Again, it is unclear how the *status* is related to the
individualized natures of the things that agree in the
*status*. If the *status* is what the divine mind
conceives of the singulars in abstraction from them, why
couldn't the nature itself be conceived in the same way? -
after all, the abstract nature would not have to be a thing any more
than a *status* is, for its existence would not be
*real* *being*, but merely its *being conceived*.
Furthermore, it seems quite plausible that Abelard's
*status* could be derived by abstraction from singular
*dicta* with the same predicate, as suggested above. But
*dicta* are the quite ordinary *significata* of
*our* propositions, which Abelard never treats as
epistemologically problematic, so why would the *status*, which
we could apparently abstract from them, be accessible only to the
divine mind?



I'm not suggesting that Abelard could not provide acceptable and
coherent answers to these and similar questions and
 problems.[35]
 But perhaps these problems also contributed to the fact that by the
13th century his doctrine of *status* was no longer
in currency. Another historical factor that may have contributed to
the waning of Abelard's theory was probably the influence of the
newly translated Aristotelian writings along with the Arabic
commentaries that flooded the Latin West in the second half of the
12th century.


## 7. Universal Natures in Singular Beings and in Singular Minds



The most important influence in this period from our point of view
came from Avicenna's doctrine distinguishing the absolute
consideration of a universal nature from what applies to the same
nature in the subject in which it exists. The distinction is neatly
summarized in the following passage.



> 
> Horsehood, to be sure, has a definition that does not demand
> universality. Rather it is that to which universality happens. Hence
> horsehood itself is nothing but horsehood only. For in itself it is
> neither many nor one, neither is it existent in these sensibles nor in
> the soul, neither is it any of these things potentially or actually in
> such a way that this is contained under the definition of horsehood.
> Rather [in itself it consists] of what is horsehood
>  only.[36]
> 



In his little treatise *On Being and Essence*, Aquinas explains
the distinction in greater detail in the following words:



> 
> 
> A nature, however, or essence ...can be considered in two ways.
> First, we can consider it according to its proper notion, and this is
> its absolute consideration; and in this way nothing is true of it
> except what pertains to it as such; whence if anything else is
> attributed to it, that will yield a false attribution. ...In the
> other way [an essence] is considered as it exists in this or that
> [individual]; and in this way something is predicated of it *per
> accidens* [non-essentially or coincidentally], on account of that
> in which it exists, as when we say that a man is white because
> Socrates is white, although this does not pertain to man as such.
> 
> 
> 
> A nature considered in this way, however, has two sorts of existence.
> It exists in singulars on the one hand, and in the soul on the other,
> and from each of these [sorts of existence] it acquires accidents. In
> the singulars, furthermore, the essence has several [acts of]
> existence according to the multiplicity of singulars. Nevertheless, if
> we consider the essence in the first, or absolute, sense, none of
> these pertain to it. For it is false to say that the essence of man,
> considered absolutely, has existence in this singular, because if
> existence in this singular pertained to man insofar as he is man, man
> would never exist, except as this singular. Similarly, if it pertained
> to man insofar as he is man not to exist in this singular, then the
> essence would never exist in the singular. But it is true to say that
> man, but not insofar as he is man, may be in this singular or in that
> one, or else in the soul. Therefore, the nature of man considered
> absolutely abstracts from every existence, though it does not exclude
> any. And the nature thus considered is what is predicated of each
>  individual.[37]
> 
> 
> 



So, a common nature or essence according to its absolute consideration
abstracts from all existence, both in the singulars and in the mind.
Yet, and this is the important point, it is *the same* nature
that informs both the singulars that have this nature and the minds
conceiving of them in terms of this nature. To be sure, this sameness
is not numerical sameness, and thus it does not yield numerically one
nature. On the contrary, it is the sameness of several, numerically
distinct realizations of the same information-content, just like the
sameness of a book in its several copies. Just as there is no such a
thing as a universal book over and above the singular copies of the
same book, so there is no such a thing as a universal nature existing
over and above the singular things of the same nature; still, just as
it is true to say that the singular copies are the copies of *the
same book*, so it is true to say that these singulars are of
*the same nature*.



Indeed, this analogy also shows why this conception should be so
appealing from the point of view of the original epistemological
problem of the possibility of universal knowledge, without entailing
the ontological problems of naive Platonism. For just as we do
not need to read all copies of the same book in order to know what we
can find on the same page in the next copy (provided it is not a
corrupt
 copy),[38]
 so we can know what may apply to all singulars of the same nature
without having to experience them all. Still, we need not assume that
we can have this knowledge only if we can get somehow in a mysterious
contact with the universal nature over and above the singulars; all we
need is to learn how "to read" the singulars in our
experience to discern the "common message", the universal
nature, informing them all, uniformly, yet in their distinct
singularity. (Note that "reading the singulars" is not a
mere metaphor: this is precisely what geneticists are quite literally
doing in the process of gene sequencing, for instance, in the human
genome project.) Therefore, the *same nature* is not *the
same* in the same way as the *same individual* having this
nature is the same as long as it exists. For that *same
nature*, insofar as it is regarded as *the same*, does not
even exist at all; it is said to be the same only insofar as it is
*recognizable* *as the same*, if we disregard everything
that distinguishes its instances in several singulars. (Note here that
whoever would want to deny such a *recognizable sameness* in
and across several singulars would have to deny that he is able to
recognize the same words or the same letters in various sentences; so
such a person would not be able to read, write, or even to speak, or
understand human speech. But then we shouldn't really worry
about such a person in a philosophical debate.)



However, at this point some further questions emerge. If this common
nature is *recognizably the same* on account of disregarding
its individuating conditions in the singulars, then isn't it the
result of abstraction; and if so, isn't it in the abstractive
mind as its object? But if it is, then how can Aquinas say that it
abstracts *both* from being in the singulars *and* from
being in the mind?



Here we should carefully distinguish between what we can say about
*the same nature* *as such*, and what we can say about
*the same nature* *on account of its conditions* as it
exists in this or that subject. Again, using our analogy, we can
certainly consistently say that the same book in its first edition was
200 pages, whereas in the second only 100, because it was printed on
larger pages, but the book itself, as such, is neither 200 nor 100
pages, although it can be either. In the same way, we can consistently
say that *the same nature as such* is neither in the singulars
nor in the mind, but of course it is only insofar as it is in the mind
that it can be *recognizably the same*, on account of the
mind's abstraction. Therefore, that it is abstract and is
actually recognized as the same in its many instances is something
that belongs to the same nature only on account of being conceived by
the abstractive mind. This is the reason why the nature is called a
*universal concept*, insofar as it is in the mind. Indeed, it
is only under this aspect that it is properly called a universal. So,
although *that which* *is predicable* of several
singulars is nothing but the common nature as such, considered
absolutely, still, *that it is predicable* pertains to the same
nature only on account of being conceived by the abstractive
intellect, insofar as it is a concept of the mind.



At any rate, this is how Aquinas solves the paralogism that seems to
arise from this account, according to which the true claims that
Socrates is a man and man is a species would seem to entail the
falsity that Socrates is a species. For if we say that in the
proposition 'Socrates is a man' the predicate signifies
human nature absolutely, but the same nature, on account of its
abstract character, is a species, the false conclusion seems
inevitable (Klima 1993a).



However, since the common nature is not a species in its absolute
consideration, but only insofar as it is in the mind, the conclusion
does not follow. Indeed, this reasoning would be just as invalid as
the one trying to prove that this book, pointing to the second edition
which is actually 100 pages, is 200 pages, because the same book was
200 hundred pages in its first edition. For just as its being 200
pages belongs to the same book only in its first edition, so its being
a species belongs to human nature only as it exists in the mind.



So, to sum up, we have to distinguish here between the nature existing
in this singular (such as the individualized human nature of Socrates,
which is numerically one item, mind-independently existing in
Socrates), the universal (such as the species of human nature existing
only in the mind as its object considered in abstraction from the
individuating conditions it has in the singular humans), and the
nature according to its absolute consideration (such as human nature
considered in abstraction both from its existence in the singulars as
its subjects and in the mind as its object). What establishes the
distinction of these items is the difference of what can be truly said
of them on account of the different conditions they have in this or
that. What establishes the unity of these items, however, is that they
are somehow the same nature existing and considered under different
conditions. For the human nature in Socrates is numerically one, it is
numerically distinct from the human nature in Plato, and it has real,
mind-independent existence, which is in fact nothing but the existence
of Socrates, i.e., Socrates' life. However, although the human
nature in Socrates is a numerically distinct item from the human
nature in Plato, insofar as it is human nature, it is formally, in
fact, specifically the same nature, for it is human nature, and not
another, specifically different, say, feline or canine nature. It is
precisely this formal, specific, mind-independent sameness of these
items (for, of course, say, this cat and that cat do not differ
insofar as they are feline, regardless of whether there is anyone to
recognize this) that allows the abstractive human mind to recognize
this sameness by abstracting from those individuating conditions on
account of which this individualized nature in this individual
numerically differs from that individualized nature in that
individual. Thus, insofar as the formally same nature is actually
considered by a human mind in abstraction from these individualizing
conditions, it is a universal, a species, an abstract object of a
mental act whereby a human mind conceives of any individualized human
nature without its individuating conditions. But, as we could see
earlier, nothing can be a human nature existing without its
individuating conditions, although any individualized human nature can
be thought of without thinking of its necessarily conjoined
individuating conditions (just as triangular shape can be thought of
without thinking its necessarily conjoined conditions of being
isosceles or being scalene). So for this universal concept to be is
nothing but to be thought of, to be an object of the abstractive human
mind. Finally, human nature in its absolute consideration is the same
nature abstracted even from this being, i.e., even from being an
object of the mind. Thus, as opposed to both in its existence in
individuals and in the mind, neither existence, nor non-existence, nor
unity, nor disunity or multiplicity belongs to it, as it is considered
without any of these; indeed, it is considered without considering its
being considered, for it is considered only in terms of what belongs
to it on account of itself, not considering anything that has to
belong to it on account of something else in which it can only be
(i.e., whether in the mind or in reality). So, the nature according to
its absolute consideration does not have numerical unity or
multiplicity, which it has as it exists in individuals, nor does it
have the formal unity that it has in the consideration of the mind
(insofar as it is one species among many), but it has that formal
unity which precedes even the recognition of this unity by the
abstractive
 mind.[39]



Nevertheless, even if with these distinctions Aquinas' solution
of the paralogism works and what he says about the existence and unity
vs. multiplicity of a common nature can be given a consistent
interpretation, the emergence of the paralogism itself and the
complexities involved in explaining it away, as well as the problems
involved in providing this consistent interpretation show the inherent
difficulties of this account. The main difficulty is the trouble of
keeping track of what we are talking about when it becomes crucial to
know what pertains to what on account of what; in general, when the
conditions of identity and distinction of the items we are talking
about become variable and occasionally rather unclear.



Indeed, we can appreciate just how acute these difficulties may become
if we survey the items that needed to be distinguished in what may be
described as the common conceptual framework of the
"realist" *via antiqua*, the "old way"
of doing philosophy and theology, before the emergence of the
"modern way", the "nominalist" *via
moderna* challenging some fundamental principles of the older
framework, resulting mostly from the semantic innovations introduced
by William Ockham. The survey of these items and the problems they
generate will then allow us to see in greater detail the main
motivation for Ockham's innovations.


## 8. Universals in the *Via Antiqua*



In this framework, we have first of all the universal or common terms
of spoken and written languages, which are common on account of being
imposed upon universal concepts of the human mind. The concepts
themselves are universal on account of being obtained by the activity
of the abstractive human mind from experiences of singulars. But the
process of concept formation also involves various stages.



In the first place, the sensory information collected by the single
senses is distinguished, synthesized, and collated by the higher
sensory faculties of the common sense [*sensus communis*] and
the so-called cogitative power [*vis cogitativa*], to be stored
in sensory memory as *phantasms*, the sensory representations
of singulars in their singularity. The active intellect
[*intellectus agens*] uses this sensory information to extract
its intelligible content and produce the intelligible species
[*species intelligibiles*], the universal representations of
several individuals in their various degrees of formal unity,
disregarding their distinctive features and individuating conditions
in the process of abstraction.



The intelligible species are stored in the intellectual memory of the
potential intellect [*intellectus possibilis*], which can then
use them to form the corresponding concept in an act of thought, for
example, in forming a judgment. The intelligible species and the
concepts themselves, being formed by individual human minds, are
individual in their being, insofar as they pertain to this or that
human mind. However, since they are the result of abstraction, in
their information content they are universal.



Now insofar as this universal information content is common to all
minds that form these concepts at all, and therefore it is a common
intelligible content gained by these minds from their objects insofar
as they are conceived by these minds in a universal manner, later
scholastic thinkers refer to it as the objective concept
[*conceptus obiectivus*], distinguishing it from the formal or
subjective concepts [*conceptus formales seu subiectivi*],
which are the individual acts of individual minds carrying this
information (just as the individual copies of a book carry the
information content of the
 book).[40]
 It is this objective concept that is identified as the universal of
the human mind (distinguished from the universals of the divine mind),
namely, a species, a genus, a difference, a property, or an accident.
(Note that these are only the simple concepts. Complex concepts, such
as those corresponding to complex terms and propositions are the
products of the potential intellect using these concepts in its
further operations.)



These universals, then, as the objective concepts of the mind, would
be classified as beings of reason [*entia rationis*], the being
of which consists in their being conceived (cf. Klima 1993b and
Schmidt 1966). To be sure, they are not merely fictitious objects, for
they are grounded in the nature of things insofar as they carry the
universal information content abstracted from the singulars. But then
again, the universal information content of the objective concept
itself, considered not insofar as it is in the mind as its object, but
in itself, disregarding whatever may carry it, is distinguished from
its carriers both in the mind and in the ultimate objects of the mind,
the singular things, as the nature of these things in its absolute
consideration.



However, the common nature as such cannot exist on its own any more
than a book could exist without any copies of it or any minds
conceiving of it. So, this common nature has real existence only in
the singulars, informing them, and giving them their recognizably
common characteristics. However, these common characteristics can be
recognized as such only by a mind capable of abstracting the common
nature from experiencing it in its really existing singular instances.
But it is on account of the real existence of these individualized
instances in the singulars that the common nature can truly be
predicated of the singulars, as long as they are actually informed by
these individualized instances.



The items thus distinguished and their interconnections can be
represented by the following block-diagram. The dashed frames indicate
that the items enclosed by them have a certain reduced ontological
status, a "diminished" mode of being, while the boxes
partly sharing a side indicate the (possible) partial identities of
the items they
 enclose.[41]
 The arrows pointing from the common term to the singulars, their
individualized natures and items in the mind on this diagram represent
semantic relations, which I am going to explain later, in connection
with Ockham's innovations. The rest of the arrows indicate the
flow of information from experience of singulars through the sensory
faculties to the abstractive mind, and to the application of the
universal information abstracted by the mind to further singular
experiences in acts of judgment.



![A box labeled (1) 'common term' has arrows pointing to boxes labeled (2) 'individual natures', (3) 'singulars', (4) 'absolute nature', (5) 'objective concept', and (6) 'subjective concept'. The arrow from (1) to (2) is labeled 'signification', the arrow from (1) to (3) is dashed and labeled 'supposition', the arrow from (1) to (6) is labeled 'subordination'. Boxes (2) and (3) share a side. Boxes (4) and (5) share a side and have dashed frames. Box (3) has an arrow to box (7) 'phantasms' which has an arrow to box (8) 'intelligible species' which has an arrow to box (9) 'subjective concept' which has an arrow to box (5). Boxes (7),(8), and (9) are inside a large box (10) labeled 'MIND'.](image4.gif)

Figure 4. The *via antiqua*
conception




Obviously, this is a rather complicated picture. However, its
complexity itself should not be regarded as problematic or even
surprising, for that matter. After all, this diagram merely
summarizes, and distinguishes the main stages of, how the human mind
processes the intelligible, universal information received from a
multitude of singular experiences, and then again, how it applies this
information in classifying further experiences. This process may
reasonably be expected to be complex, and should not be expected to
involve fewer stages than, e.g., setting up, and retrieving
information from, a computer database.



What renders this picture more problematic is rather the difficulties
involved in identifying and distinguishing these stages and the
corresponding items. Further complications were also generated by the
variations in terminology among several authors, and the various
criteria of identity and distinctness applied by them in introducing
various different notions of identity and distinctness. In fact, many
of the great debates of the authors working within this framework can
be characterized precisely as disputing the identity or distinctness
of the items featured here, or the very criteria of identifying or
distinguishing them.



For example, already Abelard raised the question whether the concept
or mental image, which we may identify in the diagram as the objective
concept of later authors, should be identified with the act of
thought, which we may identify as the subjective concept, or perhaps a
further act of the mind, called *formatio*, namely, the
potential intellect's act of forming the concept, using the
intelligible species as the principle of its action. Such distinctions
were later on severely criticized by authors such as John Peter Olivi
and others, who argued for the elimination of intelligible species,
and, in general, of any intermediaries between an act of the intellect
and its ultimate objects, the singulars conceived in a universal
 manner.[42]



Again, looking at the diagram on the side of the singulars, most
13th century authors agreed that what accounts for the
specific unity of several individuals of the same species, namely,
their specific nature, should be something other than what accounts
for their numerical distinctness, namely, their principle of
individuation. However, one singular entity in a species of several
co-specific individuals has to contain both the principle of the
specific unity of these individuals and its own principle of
individuation. Therefore, this singular entity, being a composite at
least of its specific nature and its principle of individuation, has
to be distinct from its specific nature. At any rate, this is the
situation with material substances, whose principle of individuation
was held to be their matter. However, based on this reasoning,
immaterial substances, such as angels, could not be regarded as
numerically distinct on account of their matter, but only on account
of their form. But since form is the principle of specific unity,
difference in form causes specific diversity. Therefore, on this
basis, any two angels had to be regarded as different in species. This
conclusion was explicitly drawn by Aquinas and others, but it was
rejected by Augustinian theologians, and it was condemned in Paris in
 1277.[43]



So, no wonder authors such as Henry of Ghent and Duns Scotus worked
out alternative accounts of individuation, introducing not only
different principles of individuation, such as the Scotists'
famous (or infamous) *haecceity*, but also different criteria
of distinctness and identity, such as those grounding Henry of
Ghent's *intentional distinction*, or Scotus's
*formal
 distinction*,[44]
 or even later Suarez' *modal
 distinction*.[45]



But even further problems arose from considering the identity or
distinctness of the individualized natures signified by several common
terms in one and the same individual. The metaphysical debate over the
real distinction of essence and existence from this point of view is
nothing but the issue whether the individualized common nature
signified by the definition of a thing is the same as the act of being
signified by the verb 'is' in the same thing. In fact, the
famous problem of the plurality vs. unity of substantial forms may
also be regarded as a dispute over whether the common natures
signified by the substantial predicates on the Porphyrian tree in the
category of substance are distinct or the same in the same individual
(cf. Callus 1967). Finally, and this appears to be the primary
motivation for Ockham's innovations, there was the question
whether one must regard all individualized common natures signified in
the same individual by several predicates in the ten Aristotelian
categories as distinct from one another. For the affirmative answer
would involve commitment to a virtually limitless multiplication of
entities.



Indeed, according to Ockham, the *via antiqua* conception would
entail that



> 
> a column is to the right by to-the-rightness, God is creating by
> creation, is good by goodness, just by justice, mighty by might, an
> accident inheres by inherence, a subject is subjected by subjection,
> the apt is apt by aptitude, a chimera is nothing by nothingness,
> someone blind is blind by blindness, a body is mobile by mobility, and
> so on for other, innumerable
>  cases.[46]
> 



And this is nothing, but "multiplying beings according to the
multiplicity of terms... which, however, is erroneous and leads
far away from the
 truth".[47]


## 9. Universals in the *Via Moderna*



To be sure, as the very debates within the *via antiqua*
framework concerning the identity or non-identity of various items
distinguished in that framework indicate, Ockham's charges are
not quite
 justified.[48]
 After all, several *via antiqua* authors *did* allow
the identification of the *significata* of terms belonging to
various categories, so their "multiplication of beings"
did not necessarily match the multiplicity of terms. Furthermore,
since *via antiqua* authors also distinguished between various
modes or senses of being, allowing various sorts of
"diminished" kinds of being, such as *beings of
reason*, their ontological commitments were certainly not as
unambiguous as Ockham would have us believe in this passage. However,
if we contrast the diagram of the *via antiqua* framework above
with the following schematic representation of the *via
moderna* framework introduced by Ockham, we can immediately
appreciate the point of Ockham's innovations.



![shows the simplified version of Figure 4, what we get as a result of the nominalist reductions. It consists of three main boxes, labeled 'common term' on the top, 'singulars' on the lower left, and 'mind' on the lower right. The 'mind' box contains two sub-boxes, labeled 'phantasms' and 'common concepts', with an arrow pointing from the former to the latter, indicating the flow of information, as does the arrow pointing from the box 'singulars' to the box 'phantasms'. The rest of the arrows indicate semantic relations: the full arrow pointing from the box 'common term' to 'singulars' is labeled 'signification', the dashed arrow is labeled 'supposition'. The full arrow pointing from 'common term' to 'common concept' is labeled 'subordination'. Finally, the unlabeled full arrow pointing from 'common concept' to 'singulars' represents natural signification or signification, as is clear from the text.](image5.gif)

Figure 5. The *via moderna*
conception




Without a doubt, it is the captivating simplicity of this picture,
especially as compared with the complexity of the *via antiqua*
picture, that was the major appeal of the Ockhamist approach. There
are fewer items here, equally on the same ontological footing,
distinguished from one another in terms of the same unambiguous
distinction, the numerical distinction between individual real
entities.



To be sure, there still are universals in this picture. But these
universals are neither common natures "contracted" to
individuals by some really or merely formally distinct principle of
individuation, nor some universal objects of the mind, which exist in
a "diminished" manner, as *beings of reason*.
Ockham's universals, at least in his mature
 theory,[49]
 are just our common terms and our common concepts. Our common terms,
which are just singular utterances or inscriptions, are common in
virtue of being subordinated to our common concepts. Our common
concepts, on the other hand, are just singular acts of our singular
minds. Their universality consists simply in the universality of their
representative function. For example, the common term
'man' is a spoken or written universal term of English,
because it is subordinated to that concept of our minds by which we
conceive of each man indifferently. (See Klima, 2011) It is this
indifference in its representative function that enables the singular
act of my mind to conceive of each man in a universal manner, and the
same goes for the singular act of your mind. Accordingly, there is no
need to assume that there is anything in the individual humans,
distinct from these humans themselves, a common yet individualized
nature waiting to be abstracted by the mind. All we need to assume is
that two humans are more similar to each other than either of them to
a brute animal, and all animals are more similar to each other than
any of them to a plant, etc., and that the mind, being able to
recognize this similarity, is able to represent the humans by means of
a common specific concept, the animals by means of a common generic
concept, all living things by means of a more general generic concept,
 etc.[50]
 In this way, then, the common terms subordinated to these concepts
need not signify some abstract common nature in the mind, and
consequently its individualized instances in the singulars, for they
directly signify the singulars themselves, just as they are directly
conceived by the universally representative acts of the mind. So, what
these common terms signify are just the singulars themselves, which
are also the things referred to by these terms when they are used in
propositions. Using the customary rendering of the medieval logical
terminology, the things ultimately signified by a common term are its
*significata*, while the things referred to by the same term
when it is used in a proposition are their (personal)
 *supposita*.[51]



Now if we compare the two diagrams representing the respective
conceptions of the two *viae*, we can see just how radically
Ockham's innovations changed the character of the semantic
relations connecting terms, concepts and things. In both
*viae*, common terms are subordinated to common concepts, and
it is in virtue of this subordination that they ultimately signify
what their concepts represent. In the *via moderna*, a concept
is just an act of the mind representing singulars in a more or less
indifferent manner, yielding a more or less universal signification
for the term. In the *via antiqua*, however, the act of the
mind is just one item in a whole series of intermediary
representations, distinguished in terms of their different functions
in processing universal information, and connected by their common
content, ultimately representing the common, yet individualized
natures of their
 singulars.[52]
 Accordingly, a common term, expressing this common content, is
primarily subordinated to the objective concept of the mind. But of
course, this objective concept is only the common content of the
singular representative acts of singular minds, their subjective
concepts, formed by means of the intelligible species, abstracted by
their active intellects. On the other hand, the objective concept,
abstracting from all individuating conditions, expresses only what is
common to all singulars, namely, their nature considered absolutely.
But this absolutely considered nature is only the common content of
what informs each singular of the same nature in its actual real
existence. So, the term's ultimate *significata* will
have to be the individualized natures of the singulars. But these
ultimate *significata* may still not be the singulars
themselves, namely, when the things informed by these
*significata* are not metaphysically simple. In the *via
moderna* conception, therefore, the ultimate *significata*
of a term are nothing but those singular things that can be the
term's *supposita* in various propositions, as a matter
of semantics. By contrast, in the *via antiqua* conception, a
term's ultimate *significata* may or may not be the same
things as the term's (personal) *supposita*, depending on
the constitution of these *supposita*, as a matter of
metaphysics. The singulars will be the *supposita* of the term
when it is used as the subject term of a proposition in which
something is predicated about the things informed by these ultimate
*significata* (in the case of metaphysically simple entities,
the term's *significata* and *supposita*
 coincide).[53]



Nevertheless, despite the nominalists' charges to the contrary,
the *via antiqua* framework, as far as its semantic
considerations are concerned, was no more committed to the real
distinction of the *significata* and *supposita* of its
common terms than the *via moderna* framework was. For if the
semantic theory in itself had precluded the identification of these
semantic values, then the question of possible identity of these
values could not have been meaningfully raised in the first place.
Furthermore, in that case such identifications would have been
precluded as meaningless even when talking about metaphysically simple
entities, such as angels and God, whereas the metaphysical simplicity
of these entities was expressed precisely in terms of such
identifications. But also in the mundane cases of the
*significata* and *supposita* of concrete and abstract
universal terms in the nine accidental categories, several *via
antiqua* authors argued for the identification of these semantic
values both within and across categories. First of all there was
Aristotle's authority for the claim that action and passion are
the same
 motion,[54]
 so the significata of terms in these two categories could not be
regarded as really distinct entities. But several authors also argued
for the identification of relations with their foundations, that is to
say, for the identity of the significata of relative terms with the
significata of terms in the categories quantity and quality. (For
example, on this conception, my equality in height to you would be
just my height, provided you were of the same height, and not a
distinct "equality-thing" somehow attached to my height,
caused by our equal
 heights.)[55]



By contrast, what makes the *via moderna* approach simpler is
that it "automatically" achieves such identifications
already on the basis of its semantic principles. Since in this
approach the *significata* of concrete common terms are just
the singulars directly represented by the corresponding concepts, the
*significata* and (personal) *supposita* of terms are
taken to be the same singulars from the beginning. So these common
terms *signify* and *supposit* for the same things
either absolutely, provided the term is *absolute*, or in
relation to other singulars, provided the term is
*connotative.* But even in the case of connotative terms, such
as relative terms (in fact, all terms in the nine accidental
categories, except for some abstract terms in the category quality,
according to Ockham) we do not need to assume the existence of some
mysterious relational entities informing singular substances. For
example, the term 'father' need not be construed as
signifying in me an inherent relation, my fatherhood, somehow
connecting me to my son, and suppositing for me on that account in the
context of a proposition; rather, it should merely be construed as
signifying me in relation to my son, thereby suppositing for me in the
context of a proposition, while connoting my son.


## 10. The Separation of the *Viae*, and the Breakdown of Scholastic Discourse in Late-Medieval Philosophy



The appeal of the simplicity of the *via moderna* approach,
especially as it was systematically articulated in the works of John
Buridan and his students, had a tremendous impact on late-medieval
philosophy and theology. To be sure, many late-medieval scholars, who
were familiar with both ways, would have shared the sentiment
expressed by the remark of Domingo Soto (1494-1560, describing
himself as someone who was "born among nominalists and raised by
 realists")[56]
 to the effect that whereas the realist doctrine of the *via
antiqua* was more difficult to understand, still, the nominalist
doctrine of the *via moderna* was more difficult to
 believe.[57]
 Nevertheless, the overall simplicity and internal consistency of the
nominalist approach were undeniable, gathering a strong following by
the 15th century in all major universities of Europe, old
and newly established
 alike.[58]



The resulting separation and the ensuing struggle of the medieval
*viae* did not end with the victory of the one over the other.
Instead, due to the primarily *semantic* nature of the
separation, getting the parties embroiled in increasingly complicated
ways of talking past each other, thereby generating an ever growing
dissatisfaction, even contempt, in a new, lay, humanist
 intelligentsia,[59]
 it ended with the demise of the characteristically medieval
conceptual frameworks of both *viae* in the late-medieval and
early modern period.



These developments, therefore, also put an end to the specifically
*medieval* problem of universals. However, the increasingly
rarified late-medieval problem eventually vanished only to give way to
several modern variants of *recognizably* *the same*
problem, which keeps recurring in one form or another in contemporary
philosophy as well. Indeed, one may safely assert that as long as
there is interest in the questions of how a human language obviously
abounding in universal terms can be meaningfully mapped onto a world
of singulars, there *is* a problem of universals, regardless of
the details of the particular conceptual framework in which the
relevant questions are articulated. Clearly, in this sense, the
problem of universals is itself a universal, the universal problem of
accounting for the relationships between mind, language, and
reality.