Paper
delivered at the Philosophy Department of the
University of
Budapest,
March 7, 2002.
Dr. Cobb is Professor of Theology Emeritus at the Claremont School of
Theology, Claremont, California and Co-Director of the Center for Process Studies
there. Text taken from
Religion Online.
Prehension
John B. Cobb, Jr.
I
Gabor Karsai suggested
that I might explain to you some of the contributions that Alfred North
Whitehead has made to philosophy. I will, of course, speak as an American
and in terms of the philosophical situation in the
United States. I should also say that I am a theologian, and that means that my
interest in philosophy is not purely theoretical. I am interested in its
existential or personal implications and how it shapes human sensibility.
The topic on which I
focus, and to which Whitehead made a particularly important contribution,
is the relation of human experience to the remainder of the world. My
plan is to identify schools of thought in terms of their accounts of this
relationship.
Most American
philosophers in the past half-century have belonged to the school of
analytic philosophy. Since this label refers to a style of approach to
philosophical issues rather than to underlying convictions about the way
things are, analytic philosophers do not all adopt the same position with
regard to the issue I have in view. Accordingly, my classification of
major options does not correspond to the way American philosophers are
likely to identify themselves.
Recognizing, then, that
my typology is tendentious, I offer it nonetheless as one useful way of
describing the present scene. The first three positions, the ones that I
criticize, are materialism, Humean empiricism, and Kantian dualism. I
identify the fourth school, the one in which I locate Whitehead, as
nonmaterialist naturalism. Since I want to devote most of my time to
explaining Whitehead’s contribution, my treatment of the first three
options will be extremely schematic.
I should also
acknowledge that I am an anti-foundationalist in the sense that I do not
believe that there is any place to begin philosophizing that does not
already express important assumptions. That means that philosophers
cannot prove and demonstrate. I will not make any effort to prove that
Whitehead is correct and others are wrong. I will, however, explain why I
find his treatment of the relation of human experience to the natural
world more satisfactory than the major alternatives.
I also acknowledge that
I begin with a bias toward common sense. By this I do not mean the
culturally-conditioned common sense that is notoriously unreliable. I
mean, instead, those convictions that everyone lives by in practice
whatever they may say in theory. My colleague, David Griffin, has labeled
these “hard-core common sense. “ For example, I believe that anyone who
speaks presupposes that there are hearers who have a reality similar to
that of the speaker. I believe, further, that the speaker presupposes
that he or she has some kind of self-determination, that is, is not simply
a complex arrangement of matter or a mere product of the past. Arguing
the contrary seems to me a self-contradictory activity. Indeed, I believe
that philosophically arguing against the assumptions entailed in the
activity of arguing is self-defeating.
With respect to my
major concern in this paper, I believe that no one can actually avoid
believing that she or he is intimately involved with a physical body whose
reality is not dependent on conscious thought. Further, I doubt that
anyone can avoid acting as if this body is continuous in character with
other bodies that make up our environment or can doubt that there are
causal interactions among these bodies. In short, whatever we say about
the external world theoretically, we continue to act as though it has a
reality prior to and independent of our mental activity.
These convictions
provide for me norms by which I judge philosophies. That is, I favor
philosophies that explain, rather than explain away, these common sense
assumptions. Of course, adequacy to universal common sense is not the
only norm. There is much else to which a philosophy should be adequate.
Also I am committed to consistency, coherence, and relevance. But I
assume that my convictions about the importance of explaining hardcore
common sense beliefs rather than explaining them away may be the most
distinctive part of my assumptions. Obviously, these preferences and
prejudices play a large role in my objections to materialism, Humean
empiricism, and Kantian idealism.
II
Materialism continues
to be widespread in the
United States. A great many scientists have been socialized into accepting it, even
if they rarely attempt to provide a sophisticated account. A smaller
number of philosophers do attempt to defend it, and many others, even if
they rarely discuss the question directly, show their materialistic bias
when they discuss such questions as the mind-body relation. Probably the
most widely accepted views in the
United States are psychophysical identism and supervenience. Since both deny any
causal role for human experience, locating all causality in the material
brain, they seem to be continuations of epiphenomenalism under different
labels. Although this may not be an extreme form of materialism, since it
does not flatly deny the occurrence of conscious experience, by rejecting
any role of such experience, it comes close enough for me to use the
label.
Obviously, this kind of
thinking fails to account for the ongoing experience of being affected by
our bodies and of, in turn, influencing them. It must count the latter,
at least, as wholly illusory. It requires that we suppose that the
apparent influence of our experience in one moment on our experience in
the next is also illusory. Since I believe no one can act as if this is
so, I regard adopting such a belief as a profound philosophical weakness.
This is to say nothing about the extreme difficulty of providing a
coherent notion of matter in the first place, a problem well explained by
both Hume and Kant.
I have qualified the
empiricism of which I want to speak as Humean. I do so because I regard
my own position as a form of empiricism. The empiricism I reject holds
that all knowledge of what is outside the body is mediated by the senses
and that what is provided by the senses are sensa or sense data. I call
it Humean because Hume gave it its classical expression, and subsequent
discussion of sensory empiricism has largely accepted his work as a
starting point.
Hume showed that when
we take the data of sense experience as the basis for all our knowledge of
the world, many of those assumptions that we all make in practice are
unintelligible. We cannot explain why we suppose, unfailingly, that there
is a world consisting of something other than these sensory data. We
cannot explain why we are so sure that there other subjects. We cannot
explain our sense that one event happens because other events have
happened. We cannot explain the role of our bodies in the experience of
the world.
Despite these problems,
Humean assumptions are still widely asserted, and many analytic
philosophers employ them, at least part of the time. Many discussions of
causality in American philosophy still follow Hume’s lead. Sometimes
Humean empiricism is combined in remarkable ways with materialist habits
of mind, as they were even in Hume himself.
My own judgment that
this whole approach is wanting is obvious in the way I have set up this
discussion. Humeans “solve” many problems by simply deducing conclusions
from the assumption that all knowledge of the world must be developed from
the data of sense experience. The fact that these solutions contradict
many beliefs that in practice no one escapes is not allowed to count
against them. For me, on the other hand, it counts heavily against them.
Probably most Americans
are vaguely, if not explicitly, dualistic. They are quite sure of the
reality of their own feeling and thinking. They also suppose that the
world they see and touch is for the most part of a quite different order.
Perhaps Cartesian dualism is still the cultural common sense of Americans,
and it plays its role in philosophical discussions as well.
Nevertheless, I have
qualified the dualism I want to discuss as Kantian, because this is the
form of dualism that is most likely to be systematically and critically
defended by philosophers. Just as, after Hume, earlier forms of sensory
empiricism came to be chiefly of historical interest, so also, after Kant,
earlier forms of dualism were largely superseded.
Kant, of course, shared
my dissatisfaction with the results of sensory empiricism. His response
has been of enormous importance in the history of the nineteenth and
twentieth centuries. It is my impression that, on the European continent,
it is the basis for almost all subsequent philosophical developments. In
the United States the situation is more diverse, as I have already indicated, in that
Humean empiricism and materialism still flourish in various guises. But
Kant has been very influential there also, partly directly, and partly
through the many other European thinkers he has influenced.
It would be foolish for
me to attempt to instruct you about Kant. I suspect that you are all
better Kant scholars than am I. I have the impression that in his
Critique of Judgment there are formulations that differ markedly from
the features of the Critique of Pure Reason that I am
highlighting. I believe that book may contain resources for my topic that
still remain to be mined. However, my interest here is not to discuss the
intricacies of Kant’s thought but to lift up his impact on subsequent
thinkers with respect to the relation of human experience to the external
world.
Kant accepted Hume’s
account of sensory experience and the extreme limits of what can be
learned from it, when it is taken by itself. Indeed, Kant went even
farther than Hume. He showed, for example, that from the data of sense
experience we gain no sense of time. But Kant knew that in fact we have a
sense of time and also that we are aware of causal relations in a way not
accounted for by the regular succession to which Hume appealed.
Accordingly, Kant argued, the organization of the data of sense experience
is the work of the mind.
Kant posited a noumenal
world that in some way supplied the sensory data. But this acknowledgment
of an external world was not successful. He could say nothing about what
it is, and his own account of causality precluded assigning it any causal
role in relation to the phenomena. Accordingly, his followers generally
gave up Kant’s noumenal world and adopted a more fully idealist position.
I call this idealism
dualistic, nevertheless, because it affirms two quite distinct spheres.
There is the sphere of the creative activity of mind. There is the sphere
of the nature that appears to us because of that creative activity. These
are to be understood and studied in radically different ways.
From my perspective,
the greatness of Kant’s contribution lies in showing the immensely
creative activity of the human mind in constituting the world in which we
live. In the
United States today, there are relatively few who follow Kant himself closely, but
there are many who emphasize how human languages construct and constitute
the world in which human communities live. Much is said of the social
construction of reality. Feminists have been particularly influential in
showing how reality is constructed in many societies for patriarchal
purposes. Some philosophers of science argue that the work of science is
to construct the world rather than to describe it. Since so much of
social construction is an expression of power, there is now much interest
in its deconstruction.
The emphasis on the
construction of the world can also be quite individualistic. Much has
been written on how our diverse life experiences lead us to construct our
worlds differently. A psychotherapist can hardly help patients without
provisionally entering into the ways they have constructed their worlds.
The purpose of therapy can be understood to be to help patients
reconstruct their worlds in ways that bring them less conflict and pain.
The Protestant
denomination that calls itself “Christian Science” developed out of the
New England
transcendentalism that was deeply influenced by Kant. Practitioners
believe that the mind constructs the body, so that if one’s mind is fully
healed there will be no sickness or disruption in the body. They refuse
medical care because this is based on physicalist assumptions. Although
this denomination is now declining, similar ideas are widespread in
related movements and in some New Age groups.
Much as I appreciate
and admire the brilliant analyses that have followed from the view that
our worlds are constructed by our minds or our language, I am convinced
that, taken by itself, it leaves central features of our experience
unintelligible. No language could construct our bodies in such a way that
they cease to need food. The explosion of an atomic bomb is not simply a
word-event. This does not mean that we cannot study the diverse ways in
which societies have constructed the eating of food. Nor does it mean
that the way we interpret the explosion of an atomic bomb is unimportant
or that the prior construction of the world was not a major factor in the
occurrence of this event. But a philosophy that does not recognize a
distinct physical component in food and atomic explosions, one that is
impervious to how humans think about them, is inadequate. What I am
calling Kantian dualism fails to account for the autonomous reality,
activity and causality of the natural world.
III
I am calling the school
of thought in which I locate myself nonmaterialistic naturalism. It
reflects the understanding of some physicists that what they have called
matter in the past is better viewed as energy. Among its members are
William James, Henri Bergson, John Dewey, and C. S. Peirce. My own
teacher was Charles Hartshorne. But because of limited time, I will
confine myself to Alfred North Whitehead, who is generally recognized as
the most rigorous and comprehensive thinker in this group.
When critically
discussing the limits of empiricism above, I was careful to speak of
sensory empiricism. This is because another label for this group of
thinkers is “radical empiricism.” They agreed with Kant that sensory
empiricism cannot account for our experience, but they undertook to
overcome this limitation through a more exhaustive, or radical,
examination of what is given in experience. Despite differences in
emphasis and style, they have much in common with some schools of
phenomenology.
Whitehead deconstructed
ordinary sense experience into two elements. One he called
“presentational immediacy.” When we attend to what is most clearly
conscious, this is what appears, and it is understandable that Hume, and
some of his predecessors limited themselves to this. In vision, for
example, presentational immediacy presents to us as immediately given
patches of color. Hume took these as exhausting what is given in visual
experience, and he drew consistent implications.
Ironically, these
consistent implications do not account for the fact that we experience
these patches of color as derived from beyond ourselves. The naïve notion
that the brown of the rug as such characterizes the rug in itself apart
from visual experience can, of course, readily be shown to be absurd. But
that the rug is such that, given suitable lighting, it causes multiple
persons to have the visual experience of brown when attending to the
region in which it is located is not a naïve view. It fits the facts as
we know them. Also, it can be investigated by physics and physiology.
From a scientific point of view, there is an indirect causal effect of
events in the rug on the neurons in the brain. From the subjective point
of view, there is a sense of derivation of elements of experience from
beyond themselves. The correspondence here gives some justification for
the claim that when we examine our experience radically we discover that
the perception in the mode of presentational immediacy to which Hume gave
exclusive attention arises out of “perception in the mode of causal
efficacy.”
This doctrine, that we
perceive the causal efficacy of the world, is the radical and distinctive
contribution of Whitehead. Because it is unfamiliar, it is this that I
want to discuss in the remainder of my paper. To convince you that it is
an idea to be taken seriously will require approaching it from several
angles.
I have begun with the
aspect of experience (vision) in which the experience of causal efficacy
may be the most difficult to identify phenomenolo-gically. Let us turn to
another kind of reflection in which the argument that causal efficacy is
empirically experienced may be more readily accepted. I ask you to focus
on the flow of your own experience. Consider the relation of one moment
of experience to its immediate predecessor. It is my judgment that what
we find on such an examination is that the earlier experience flows into
the later one. The later one is what it is largely because of this
influence of the earlier one. On the other hand, the earlier one does not
determine every feature of the later experience.
One way to focus
attention on this relationship is to consider the experience in which one
is hearing the final chord in a musical phrase. If we focus on
presentational immediacy alone, the sound would be just what it is in
itself. But in fact we hear it as the completion of a phrase. The sounds
we were hearing in the preceding seconds are still resonating in our
present experience. Otherwise there would be no music.
The point is equally
clear when we listen to speech. In presentational immediacy we have only
a single sound. The sound may be the completion of a word. But as such,
in presentational immediacy, it is simply the sound that it is. That it
is for the hearer the completion of a word depends on the continuing
presence in that moment of what was heard before.
Or consider another
thought experiment. Bertrand Russell once argued, based on his own
commitment to sensory empiricism, that there is no reason not to suppose
that the world came into being just as it is in the present moment. In
other words, sensory empiricism provides us no evidence that there has
been a past. Yet we all know that there has been a past. In a very
significant way, we experience that past. We know that this moment of
experience is not the first because we feel the present experience as
growing out of past experiences.
The argument here is
that actual empirical experience does not have the character it would have
if all that is given in experience from outside itself were sense data.
Empirically, or phenomenologically if you prefer, there is a sense of
derivation from the past that is particularly clear in relation to one’s
own immediately past experiences. This does not have the vividness of the
sense data, and it is rarely attended to, but it remains experiential.
Whitehead believes it deserves an attention it has rarely received in the
history of thought.
Whitehead calls the
relation of one occasion of experience to its predecessor a “prehension.”
A prehension is the way in which one momentary experience incorporates or
takes account of earlier such moments. The prehension to which I have
directed attention is the one in which we can, at least vaguely, be
conscious of both the act of prehending and the occasion that is prehended.
We prehend the earlier occasion of our experience as itself a subject
prehending other occasions. Through its mediation we prehend these other
occasions, and through them, others.
This prehension of past
occasions of experience is central to understanding both epistemology and
causality. It is the way past occasions participate in constituting
present ones. It also explains our deep conviction that experience has as
its object or data things that have some reality apart from our
experiencing them. That is, my prehension of the immediate past
experience is an example of the way past occasions of experience exercise
causal efficacy in my present experience. At the same time such
prehensions are the reason that I know that I am experiencing a past
reality.
IV
Now, if we are to go on
to Whitehead’s rich speculations about the role of prehensions in the
world, I must ask you take the example I have given you and reflect about
it. I hope you will find meaningful the notion that experience flows from
one occasion into the other. The earlier occasion participates in
constituting the later one. The later one incorporates the earlier
experience in part, integrating that into itself. This is the prehensive
relation.
I have urged you to
focus on the prehension by one occasion of your experience of the
immediately preceding one because we can be more or less consciously aware
of this relation. But most of the time we are not aware of it. Certainly
it is not the sort of thing to which we normally attend. In the
evolutionary process conscious awareness and attention have been directed
to events in the vicinity of our bodies. Our ancestors needed to be alert
to danger, on the one hand, and to prospects of food, on the other.
Attending to the internal flow of experience would not have contributed to
their survival.
If this prehensive
relationship is constantly taking place quite apart from any conscious
awareness, it is not hard to suppose that other prehensive relationships
occur that can never become conscious at all. Whitehead speculates that
each occasion of human experience prehends not only past human experiences
but also the events in the brain and through them events in other parts of
the body and beyond. To put it in another way, there is a flow of causal
efficacy from the events external to the body to bodily events and from
them to the occasions of human experience.
Although we cannot
identify in experience the prehensions of events in the brain, we do
discover in our experience a vague but indubitable awareness of our bodies
as causally effective in our experience. This awareness is heightened
when there are acute pains of pleasures. My misery is caused by an aching
tooth, or my pleasure, by the massaging of my back. Whitehead assumes
that the prehensive relations involved follow the lines traced by
physiologists. He also notes that in the evolutionary process bodily
functioning developed to highlight for conscious awareness events in some
parts of the body and not others. We feel the events in nerve endings but
not in their transmission through other nerves.
This movement between
human experience and bodily events is rendered plausible only by
emphasizing the primacy of events. An occasion of human experience is an
event. The firing of a neuron is also an event, as is the aching of a
tooth. Metaphysically, Whitehead affirms that events are the primary
realities, not objects or substances. Some events are partially
conscious. Most have no consciousness at all. But all are related to
others by prehension. That is, each event takes into account earlier ones
and flows into later ones. The presence or absence of consciousness is
not decisive for this process.
Although consciousness
is rare in the universe, subjectivity is not. Since so many philosophers
identify subjects with conscious subjects, this point must be stressed in
any explanation of Whitehead’s philosophy. He speculates that every event
is both subject to the influence of other events and acts in its own
constitution and causal efficacy for others. In these respects it is like
conscious human experiences. Since most of what transpires even in the
most highly conscious human experiences is not conscious, it should not be
too difficult to understand that events with no consciousness at all still
prehend antecedent events and are prehended by others. These prehensions
constitute the natural causes that Hume thought could not be asserted and
that Kant posited as the contribution of the human mind. Human
experiences are complex events fully immersed in this web of natural
causes.
It is important to see
that in this cosmology causes are influences. A cause determines some
feature of the event in which it exercises causality. It never
necessitates that the event in question have, as a whole, just the
character that it does. In human experience we cannot but believe that
although much of what we are each moment is simply the result of the past,
in each moment there is also some freedom. Just how to assimilate all the
causal influences from the past and to integrate them in the present is
decided in that present. The range of choice may be quite limited, but,
in some moments, it is of immense importance for the future.
Whitehead sees no
reason to deny that self-determination is also present in the experiences
of other living things. Since consciousness contributes to the width of
the range within which decision is made, as the role of consciousness
declines, we would expect decision to play a smaller role. But even in
human experience the moment-to-moment decisions are not conscious
choices. So, even when consciousness is wholly lacking, we need not posit
that events are totally determined by the past. How much spontaneity we
can attribute to events of diverse sorts, and how precisely they can be
predicted from their boundary conditions, are questions for investigation,
not dogmatic prejudg-ment.
One caution is
important here. The word “events” has a wide range of uses. We speak of
a conversation as an event. But that event can be broken down into
sub-events and those into other sub-events. A moment of human experience
is the sort of sub-event that can no longer be broken down. It either
occurs or it does not. It is these unitary, indivisible events that are
the final subjects that take account of others and act on others.
Cellular events seem to have this kind of unity, as do electronic ones.
The event of a rock falling does not. We must look for the indivisible
events in this case by analyzing the larger event at least into molecular
ones. The prehensive relations are among the molecules or smaller units
in the rock. The rock as a whole is a society of unitary events, and as a
society it does not itself prehend or have any self-determination.
Whatever spontaneities there are in the unitary events that compose the
rock are statistically cancelled out by their vast number and randomness.
Thus far I have
suggested a vision of a universe of interconnected events. Of course, the
actual picture is far more complex since these events vary greatly in
their relations and in their complexity. But the main point here is to
show how the notion of prehension provides a way of understanding the
causality that pervades nature, inclusive of human experience, without
suggesting a deterministic world. I turn now to the epistemological
side.
V
Whitehead believed that
ordinary sense experience is in fact an integration of perception in the
mode of presentational immediacy and perception in the mode of causal
efficacy. He called this integration “perception in the mode of symbolic
reference.” Perception in the mode of causal efficacy is the kind of
prehension of which I have been speaking, viewed from the side of the
receiving subject. My personal past and my body influence my experience.
They bring into the here-now what was there-then. The aching in my tooth
a tiny fraction of a second ago is my aching now. But it is felt as
derived from the tooth. Perception in the mode of presentational
immediacy locates it in clear consciousness there-now in the place where
the tooth’s aching occurred a fraction of a second ago. When abstracted
from the perception in the mode of causal efficacy from which it arises,
perception in the mode of presentational immediacy gives no clue as to its
source or as to time. When integrated with perception in the mode of
causal efficacy in symbolic reference, we have the experience of the tooth
as aching now.
In presentational
immediacy there is no truth or error. The sensa are as they are. But in
actual sense experience, there is error, because the sensa are referred to
the real, present world. With regard to the aching tooth, the great
likelihood is that the tooth is continuing to ache in the present much as
it was aching a fraction of a second ago when nerve impulses carried the
message to the brain. There is unlikely to be significant error. But we
all know about phantom pains, when one continues, in symbolic reference,
to locate the pain in the amputated limb.
Similarly, with visual
experience of nearby objects the error in locating the color in the
present object is normally trivial. If, however, we are gazing at the
night sky, presentational immediacy locates the star in terms of the place
from which the light came, which may be far indeed from where the star now
is.
There is another kind
of error involved in much symbolic reference. When we attribute aching to
the tooth, there may be little error. What is happening in the cellular
events in the tooth may not be drastically unlike the pain we attribute to
that source. But when we attribute greenness to the grass, the difference
is quite considerable. This is often dismissed as naïve realism.
Greenness as a color is brought into being out of light waves by the eyes
and brain. The cells in the grass have no comparable experience. This
suggests that the world as given us in presentational immediacy may be
totally discontinuous with the real world despite the fact that in
Whitehead’s vision all of nature is intricately interconnected.
Whitehead speculates
that the disconnection is not quite that sharp, and Charles Hartshorne
developed this speculation in a remarkable book, The Philosophy and
Psychology of Sensation, in which he provides supportive scientific
data. The theory is that colors and sounds, textures and tastes, all have
strong emotional bases. We often use adjectives that seem more
appropriate in one sensory realm in application to another. For example,
a color may be cool or warm. These terms apply directly to the
subjective, emotional component of the perception of that color, which is
derived from the perception in the mode of causal efficacy that gives rise
to the perception in the mode of presentational immediacy. Some colors,
some sounds, and some tactile sensations may all have much the same
emotional basis.
Whereas it is certainly
naïve and erroneous to suppose that the cells in the grass experience
greenness as a sense datum, it is not necessarily absurd to think that
cellular experiences have an emotional component. Presumably this is
quite unconscious, but so are most human emotions. One may then speculate
that the emotional character of the experience in the cells in the grass
are somewhat replicated in the emotional component of their prehension in
the mode of causal efficacy from which the sense datum, green, arises
visually.
I have stressed that
this is speculation. Of course, this whole discussion of causality and
epistemology is speculation. But I highlight the speculative character of
the present discussion because it is unnecessary to the basic structure of
the cosmology. Its importance to Whitehead and Hartshorne is existential
or religious rather than conceptual. For both of them, it is important
not only to know that we are part and parcel of the natural world but also
to feel this. There are many people who do have this sensibility, and it
involves a sense of connectedness and kinship, some would say, oneness.
The belief that the feelings that the objects of sense experience arouse
in us have no continuity with what is felt contributes to a sense of
isolation or alienation. To show philosophically, with some scientific
support, that those who intuit closer connections may not be wrong seems
of some importance to Whitehead and Hartshorne—and to me. We believe that
it makes sense to think that the world in some ways replicates itself in
our experience.
VI
Thus far I have spoken
only of one type of prehension. Whitehead writes about two basic types
and the many complex ways in which they are integrated. The one of which
I have been speaking Whitehead calls “physical.” A physical prehension is
a prehension of another occasion of experience. The prehension of one’s
past experiences is physical. Of course, the prehension of neuronal
events is also physical. This is the causal efficacy of the world for the
occasion.
But Whitehead is
convinced that we cannot understand human experience as simply physical.
We also prehend pure potentials, or pure possibilities, in abstraction
from any embodiment. The colors of which I have been speaking are such
possibilities. Initially, the point here is that from the actual entities
we prehend physically, we can abstract some forms, potentialities, or
possibilities. All of our sciences depend on the ability to entertain
these in abstraction from their specific embodiment. We can imagine ways
in which these may be combined with each other and embodied in the world.
All conscious experience depends on the ability to compare what simply is
with what may be. In short, “conceptual prehensions”, as Whitehead calls
these, are of immense importance in human experience.
Much of Whitehead’s
writing consists in a detailed account of how conceptual and physical
feelings are integrated in human experience. He speaks of physical
purposes and transmuted feelings as well as of various kinds of
propositional feelings and intellectual feelings. The discussion of
symbolic reference that I offered above can fit into this rich analysis of
experience.
The doctrine of
conceptual feelings opens the way to its own share of interesting
speculations. Whitehead believes that we can entertain possibilities that
we do not abstract from the data of physical prehensions. He believes
that the realm of possibilities has a certain order that makes possible
order in a world pervaded by freedom. He believes that the activity of
creatively integrating the past in the present, moment-by-moment, depends
on the lure of particular relevant possibilities. He believes that all
these possibilities must be “somewhere” and that somewhere must be in some
actual entity. His speculations about conceptual feelings lead him to an
original and distinctive doctrine of God. For me, as a process
theologian, these speculations are of great interest and provide a welcome
alternative to the dominant theological cosmologies.
However, my topic today
is prehension. If one accepts this doctrine, one can account for the
highly complex conscious experiences of human beings in a fully non-reductionistic
way, while at the same locating human beings fully in the context of the
natural world. Nature no longer appears as passive, mechanical matter.
It is dynamic. Even those things that we call inanimate are made up of
entities that are continuous with simple forms of life. The emergence of
life and consciousness in the evolutionary process is no longer sheer
mystery. Our study of the natural world can be continuous with our study
of the human world. Our experience is continuous with that of other
animals and even with much simpler entities. Our deeper understanding of
the world will reject objectification as its mode. We live as subjects in
the midst of subjects. For me this is a great gain over materialism,
sensationalist empiricism, and all forms of dualism.
Whiteheadians are
almost of necessity ecologically oriented. Our concern about the natural
environment is, of course, partly motivated by our concern for the well
being of humanity. But we are also concerned about other beings for their
own sake. Everything has some value in itself. Everything has value for
other things. All things are related. All things are akin. Nothing
exists in itself and of itself, least of all human beings. Humans cannot
be saved apart from the natural world. We have enormous influence in the
shaping and reshaping of that world. But it is equally true that that
world shapes us. Indeed, we are simply one form—one very special and
valuable form—taken by that world.