From
Philosophy and Phenomenological Research,
, Vo.. 38, No. 4. (June 1975) 578-581. A review
of Robert C. Neville, The Cosmology of Freedom
Nashville:
Vanderbilt
University Press, 1998.
New Haven:
Yale University Press, 1974. Pp. 385. See also Neville's
Foreword
to Ford's Transforming Process Theism, elsewhere on this site.
A Review of
Robert Cummings Neville, The
Cosmology of Freedom
Lewis S. Ford
It is a pleasure to read such lucid prose, especially after
the massive turgidity of Neville’s maiden effort. God the Creator
was brilliant but obscure, with a sense of excessive aridity and
wordy digressions. The morphology of a central thesis, that
metaphysical pluralism is undergirded by ontological monism is carefully
restated in chapter two of the present book, though one must look to
God the Creator for the argument concerning its genesis.
The argument of The Cosmology of Freedom has a
finely nuanced analysis of private freedom, including freedom of the
will, deliberation, and decision. In the second half Neville explores
the external, public conditions for this freedom, such as political
rights, the grounds for a pluralistic society, methods of social
integration, and a theoretical analysis of participatory democracy.
(His individual asides are excellent, for example the importance of
having a history [pages 232 ff.].) A participatory democracy usually
means “one man, one vote.” Here Neville expertly criticizes Robert
Dahl’s After the Revolution based on this premise (pages
336-40). Even the students shouting this slogan in the 1960’s did not
insist that they have a say strictly proportionate to their numbers;
usually they agreed to some group representing student and faculty
interest, rarely insisting on more than parity with the faculty. The
true principle of participatory democracy concerns the rules “for
setting the conditions under which decisions or determinations are made”
(page 342). Here Neville enunciates the principle of power: “A
participatory democracy ought to render each person the power to
influence the conditions under which decisions are made in a proportion
commensurate with his relevance” (page 346).
Neville relies quite heavily on McLuhan’s critique of the
present post-literate society, just as he uses Eric Havelock’s analysis
of Plato’s critique of the role of poetry as it functioned in Greek
preliterate society (page 319-21). He has an excellent critique of Marx
for denying privacy, the sole source of creativity.
The initial analysis of personal freedom can be read as a
bridge between Alfred North Whitehead and Paul Weiss. It is essential
to Weiss’ modalistic pluralism that he distinguish between essential and
accidental features. If the accidental features are essential, then the
unity is too tight and there can be only one mode of being as Whitehead
had affirmed according to his ontological principle. Accidental
features must nevertheless be required, for otherwise there would be no
need for the additional modes of being. Neville retains the same
distinction that Weiss needs, but he sees that the accidental features
are identical with what Whitehead had conceived as the “initial data,”
while the essential features conformed to his “subjective forms.”
Another way of reading Neville’s initial analysis is to
compare it with Whitehead’s. Here the result is thoroughly ambiguous.
On the one hand, Neville supports most of the essential thesis with
independent arguments. On the other hand, he rejects characteristic
claims while importing most of their initial plausibility, especially
with respect to the theory of time. He insists that time makes a
difference and is very good in explicating the logic of tenses. His
favorite ploy treats the determinist as a Parmenidean conceiving an
unchanging volume of events, and showing the folly of this position.
Passage does make a difference, but we need not follow Whitehead in
identifying subjectivity with present immediacy and we need not be
troubled by the objectivity of the past. His theory of the human self
is essentially fiduciary, with the earlier moments making commitments on
behalf of the later moments of the self. Put in Whiteheadian terms, his
self is essentially a personally ordered society of occasions enduring
through time, rather than the successive, momentary, individual occasion
itself.
This greatly simplifies the analysis of what it means to be
subjective and enables Neville to claim the distinctiveness for the
human creativity (page 201). If every occasion is fleetingly
subjective, as Whitehead thought, then not only must we affirm that
every occasion whatsoever is subjective in its presentness (his
so-called “panpsychism”), but each must receive its subjectivity from
another. Thus we must conceive some transcendent agent giving each
occasion its initial selfhood (Whitehead’s necessary theism). Neville’s
analysis is more acceptable to most philosophers because it dispenses
with these two controversial assumptions while at the same time
upholding and defending its careful analysis of creativity as temporal
self-constitution. But then the problem is not faced with all
seriousness. Only Sartre with his stark concern for the momentary self
saw the real problem: how can the self, new in every moment, arise out
of nothing? His own answer trades on the traditional doctrine of
creation out of nothing, so much so that otherwise it would be
unintelligible. As it is, Whitehead’s analysis is far more cogent.
But this argument requires that God tempts every person to
do the good. This is perhaps an uncharacteristic way of looking at
Whitehead’s theory but it remains that each occasion embarks on its
subjective career only by means of an initial aim supplied by God.
Neville dispenses with this initial aim while yet giving careful
analysis of freedom as norm-determining values. He dispenses with the
transcendent tempter because there is no need for this initial purposing
lure. Traditionally, however, we have not thought that there need be
any temptation for the emergence of the good self. In fact, it is the
presence of evil that needs explanation, although Tillich’s careful
analysis in volume two of the Systematic Theology of “dreaming
innocence” shows that the emergence of the self is very much at the core
of the problem. If there is a tempter for good, there is also a tempter
for evil. The serpent in paradise is absolutely essential for Eve’s
fall, but this is unpalatable for optimistic Whiteheadians.
Posted March 25,
2007
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