The Problem of the Person, Summit of First Philosophy

Father Marie-Dominique Philippe, O.P.

 

Let's begin with a brief review of how the problem of first philosophy is posed for us. Today, more than ever, the importance of philosophy is to consider man and all the dimensions of man: man working, man loving, man cooperating, man in the world, man among living beings, and finally man who exists: man who realizes that he exists, that he is--in this way, he is in communion with all the realities that he can know and experience, yet he is also radically distinct from each and every one by his proper, personal and individual being. In order to understand philosophically who man is, we must always come back to the experience that we have of him; it is from experience that we can discover who he is and his spiritual manner of existing in all his diverse dimensions. Yet we must clearly understand that although we can grasp from internal and external experience who man that works is, it is much more problematic to grasp who he is as he is. For we do not have a direct experience, in the precise sense, of "being." Philosophy starts with experience in philosophy of art, in ethics, in political philosophy; the same holds true for philosophy of matter (of nature) and the philosophy of the living being. We really have five experiences sui generis, five different experiences, starting points of five major orientations of realistic philosophy, but we do not have an experience, in the strict sense, of being, for we have never encountered it.
However, these five difference experiences all have something in common; they all put me in contact with reality, and even the most perfect reality that I experience: man. It is man who works and transforms a reality other than himself; it is man who loves another man; it is man who cooperates with another man; it is man who discovers the material universe, the physical world in which he finds himself, in which he is born; it is man who is a living being. And it is really man who exists, who is. What constitutes the unity of all my experiences, beyond their diversity, is really the judgment of existence "I am;" man exists in me.

All my experiences, and not my intuitions, thus lead me to this discovery: I am, I exist. Different intuitions, even the one called "the intuition of being" always concern relationships [1]. Any intuition allows me to discover a new relationship which remained hidden from me and which suddenly is disclosed to me. It is precisely this sudden character of a revelation which appeals to me, since in this way, intuition enables me to "grasp" a new world, as it were! My intuitions thus project me into a new universe, beyond the one that I usually experience. However, intuitions do not tell me whether I reach a real, existing world or simply a world that my intelligence itself creates. The relationship as such can really exist outside me, or it can be a relationship "of reason"; it depends on its foundation. It is in this sense that we can say that the relationship as such is beyond the judgment of existence; that it remains at the level of "possible forms," existing or not existing.

The Judgment of Existence "This is" and the Discovery of the Proper Principles of Being

Let us clarify the fact that by judgement of existence, we mean: "This is," "I am." One of the major philosophical questions is to know whether to start with "I am" to reach "that-which-is," or, on the contrary, to start with "that-which-is" and end up with "I am." For the philosopher, it is of paramount importance to discover this order, for from the choice of this order arise in fact two different metaphysics, that of Aristotle and that of Descartes.

If I begin with the affirmation "I am," I grasp being as relative to "I"; I remain in the immanence of my "I" and I cannot go beyond it. Beginning with this, I cannot grasp being in itself, for I always grasp it relative to my "I," which I alone grasp. Thus I can only reach "that-which-is" in a particular way, through my "I am," which is really a particular existence.

If I begin with the affirmation "this is," I can progressively succeed in grasping the personal character of "I am"; for in affirming "this is," I do not shut myself in the immanence of my knowledge, but I can discover what is unique in this intellectual touching of existing reality, which is other than my own knowledge and actualizes it. In fact, by affirming "that-which-is," I can shed full light on the proper significance of "is" beyond the "that-which," which can moreover apply to all kinds of existing realities; this cow, this tree, myself as well. In order to fully realize this emphasis on "is," I can isolate it by looking at it in itself. Then I question by saying: "What is being? What is being considered as being, in itself?" In other words, when I affirm "This is", I can emphasize "this" or "is." If I emphasize "this," I look at the one who exists, the man who exists, who is there in front of me, the man who works, the man who loves (I can also look at all living beings). I experience "this," but I don't look at "is" in itself. If I emphasize "is," then I intend to look at it in itself, and I ask: "What is being?" And to better understand being, I come back to the initial experience, but by looking at it in a new way, in the very sense of interrogation. It is the being of every existing reality that interests me. In this way, I can reach being in all its objectivity. I go beyond the "I am" in order to only look at that-which-is as it is. And the question: "What is being?" acquires all its force, takes on all its signification.

For Heidegger, the question "What is being?" is the major question. It is what is most important in our search for being. We must even remain in this interrogation; in this we reach what is ultimate in our search for the truth. This position is very significant and interesting, for if the question: "What is being?" is fundamental, how can we explain it by something more fundamental? Normally, we explain what is secondary by what is fundamental, the effects by their causes. But how can we explain this fundamental interrogation? By something more fundamental, being itself. Thus this implies that being be considered as anterior to the question "What is being?" Now, in Heidegger's perspective, this is impossible, for being only appears in all its purity of being thanks to interrogation, thanks to thought which can separate being from all "beings" by negating them.

For Heidegger, being is only grasped in all its purity, as being, thanks to and in our thought. If, on the contrary, we understand that in the judgment "this is," and in the question "What is being?", being is presented to us under two different modalities, such as white and whiteness, yet still has the same signification, we can then return to the judgment of existence "this is," grasped in any given experienced reality existing apart from my affirmation. All the analyses of first philosophy must then be done based on these experiences, in light of the question "What is being?", according to the form and according to the end.

By asking the question "What is being according to the form?" I seek to grasp the radical and first determination of that-which-is as being. This question leads me progressively, inductively, to the discovery of the first determination of that-which-is, the substance. This question must look at any existing man and at every existing man. It is based on the judgment of existence discovered from an existing man that I question. And it is in analyzing this man, in light of this question, that I discover that which is first in him at the level of being: his substance.

By experiencing an existing man, Peter, I notice the great diversity of his determinations (what we call the ten categories). I cannot stop at any of these; even what we call the "first substance" and the "second substance" cannot be that which is first from the viewpoint of being, for these two essential determinations are reciprocally related and mutually call for one another. We must go beyond them by discovering their proper source: the substance, proper principle of that-which-is as being. This substance is really the soul, but the soul is principle of life; the substance is proper principle of that-which-is. Then one must pose immediately the major question of the distinction between that-which-is as being and its proper life. Philosophically, this question cannot be examined here [2].

This first discovery of the substance leads me to the second question: "What is being" no longer according to the form, but according to the end: "What is the end of that-which-is?"

Here we must clearly understand that this question of the ti esti, of that-which-is can be raised in four different ways: What is being according to the form? What is being according to the matter? What is being according to the efficient cause? What is being according to the final cause? The question "What is being according to the matter?" is a wrong way, a dead-end road, for from the philosophical point of view, matter is entirely relative to form. It cannot be first from the point of view of that-which-is. Averroes and Lenin said that matter was the proper cause of being; for them being and becoming are identical, since I can only experience the becoming of that-which-is. The search for the ti esti, for the "what" is then reduced to the dialectical description of the pos, of the "how."

Similarly, the question "what is being according to the efficient cause?" has no answer, precisely because being as being is beyond becoming and because the direct and proper efficient cause is always in becoming. We experience this constantly: while writing, I experience the exercise of the efficient causality, as long as I write. For as long as I write, there is a becoming. In the order of that-which-is as being, however, there is no proper efficient cause. Consequently, I understand that I cannot grasp the act of creation (which reaches being) through becoming. By virtue of this fact, no scientific knowledge, which always remains linked to becoming, can discover the creative act. This is of capital importance in today's world, faced with atheistic ideologies. All atheistic ideologies reduce being to becoming. Yet if I reduce being to becoming, I can only affirm, if I am logical with my system, that God does not exist.

The second metaphysical interrogation, parallel to the first yet very different, is really the question of the finality of that-which-is: "What is that-which-is as being, according to the final cause?", "What is the finality of being as such?" This can be expressed in yet another way, more accessible for us: "What is the ultimate signification of being?" I cannot answer that it is the substance, since the substance remains in the immanence of that-which-is. And the completion of all the realities that I see is beyond the immanence of these beings. All the realities that I experience, and especially human reality, cannot end in themselves, because of their limits. I cannot affirm that everything which is beyond my vital immanence--my experience--does not exist. Of course, it can exist in me only in an intentional way. Yet this intentional is real, it can be an anticipation of something beyond myself. Through our intelligence, we can go beyond direct experience. We can have an intention of life: this intention is indeed beyond our direct experience. This requires that we raise the question: "Is there a reality beyond direct experience?" This is probably the way in which we can best understand this search for the end of being: what is its end, its completion, its perfection, that beyond which there is nothing.

In existing reality, I can experience two states: the state of one who sleeps and the state of one who is awake. We experience this every day. It is really the distinction of two states in the same reality, in the same being. Being thus possesses two states, and it is this distinction that I encounter throughout my entire human life and throughout all my activities. Then I must question in order to grasp the order between these two states in the truest and deepest way, at the level of that-which-is as being. While there are two states, something is more profound and ultimate than these two states and explains them. It is thus that philosophy enters progressively into the induction of being-in-act and grasps the end of that-which-is as it is.

We thus discover two fundamental divisions of that-which-is as being. First division: being is presented to me through a source of all determinations--the substance--and through the secondary determinations--the qualities, the accidents. Second division: being is presented to me through two completely different states, a state in act and a state of that-which-is in potency. Beyond these two states, I grasp being-in-act, principle-end of that-which-is, and "being in potency," completely relative to being-in-act.

One, Property of Being

After having discovered the two proper principles of that-which-is as being, we must clarify, in light of these two principles, the property of that-which-is considered from the viewpoint of being, since it is proper to scientific knowledge to know the reality experienced in the light of its proper cause, and thereby to clarify all that is essential to this reality. With no intention of setting forth the great tension between the two philosophies of Aristotle and Plato, between Aristotelianism and Neo-Platonism, let us simply recall that for Aristotle, one is the acolyte of that-which-is and that for Plato, one is beyond that-which-is as such. Basically, this amounts to discovering that all philosophy concerning the conditioning of our thought affirms that one is first, while the first content of our thought is being. On the contrary, a philosophy that seeks to know that-which-is, existing reality, affirms, due to our experiences, that that-which-is is first, and by virtue of this very fact, it discovers one as a property of that-which-is, relative to that-which-is.

Actually, one is not only that which is not divided, but that which cannot be divided; it is the undivided. It is thus that which is beyond matter, beyond quantity, beyond the possible. For matter is source of divisibility, like quantity and the possible. What characterizes being as such is being beyond matter and becoming. The grasp of being, of that-which-is, is direct, for that-which-is primarily determines and specifies our intelligence. On the other hand, the grasp of one implies the negation of any potentiality, of any divisibility; it is thus meditated by negation, the proper operation of the intelligence. Being is imposed on my intellectual knowledge, whereas one is its proper fruit. If one is the fruit of my intelligence, it is closer to it, for it remains immanent to it, whereas being always transcends my thought.

This explains how, thanks to the light of the substance, proper principle of that-which-is as being (in the order of the cause according to the form), we can clarify that all that is as it is is one, due to its radical determination, which excludes all indetermination, all relativism. This allows us to grasp the extent to which being demands a radical autonomy. That which is proclaims this autonomy since in itself it is nonrelative. We understand as well how, thanks to the light of being-in-act, proper principle of that which is as being (in the order of the cause according to the end), we can clarify that all that is as it is is one, precisely because it does not have to look for a complement, an end outside itself. It has its proper perfection, its end, in itself. This allows us to grasp the extent to which being calls for goodness. It is capable of attracting, of being source of love. Inasmuch as that which is as it is is one, I can also say that what is second, relative, is multiple. The multiple thus concerns the accidental being and the being-in-potency, which is always relative. Since there are in fact five modalities of being-in-act and five modalities of being-in-potency, I can immediately affirm that there will also be five modalities of unity and five modalities of multiplicity (the unity of the substantial esse, the unity of truth, of goodness, of the vital operation and of movement) [3].

One and the Person

According to Thomistic scholastic tradition, first philosophy ended in this search for the one and the multiple, and ended with this question: "Does a first Being, the One whom religious traditions call God, exist?" This is what was called the means of access to the existence of the first Being.

Here isn't there an omission which had serious consequences? Actually, doesn't a true human philosophy have to end in a study of the human person at the proper level of being? Isn't the most perfect reality that we can experience precisely the human person? We have neglected the study of this at the level of being, in order to better understand the connections between being and spirit! This omission has had as a direct consequence the conflict between the philosophy of being and the philosophy of the spirit; isn't this precisely the tragedy of European philosophy? In decadent scholasticism, didn't the metaphysics of being give rise to a livelier philosophy, that of the spirit? According to Descartes, this philosophy turns its back on Artistotle, in the sense that it inverts the order of the two first philosophical questions. For Aristotle, the first question is to know if such and such a reality exists; then, one questions in order to know what it is, its underlying signification. Descartes does the opposite, and turns toward a primacy of the spirit over existing reality.

Some have wondered whether a sort of synthesis of these two European-born philosophies could be made. It seems impossible, for one excludes the other. Actually, according to one of these positions, thought is relative to that-which-is; according to the other, human thought measures all the realities of our universe and even man. In reality, isn't it necessary to go to the end of the philosophy of being, and to touch in a very realistic way what is entirely particular in the human person? In this way, one can assume what is original in the philosophy of the spirit, without separating it from first philosophy, but by extending the latter in the proper search for the "I am" [4].

Thus we must ask ourselves the question: aren't there two conclusions to first philosophy, one being the one and the other being the human person? It is certain that all decadent scholasticism, all Thomistic scholastic metaphysics, ends with the problem of the one and the multiple. Is this correct? Mustn't we introduce the problem of the human person in concluding metaphysics? Otherwise, we never go beyond an anthropology such as that of Kant [5]. Don't we have to go beyond anthropology; don't we have to rediscover the problem of the person? Let's try to grasp this bond of necessity between the analysis of that-which-is as being and the person, as we have grasped the bond of necessity that exists between the problem of the one and the multiple and the problem of the substance and the act.

Why does metaphysics, first philosophy, have as it were two conclusions? Why, after the analysis of that-which-is, must I necessarily look at the human person? If scholasticism declined so profoundly, it is in fact because the problem of the person was not considered. Yet all philosophy is ordered to the study of man. If I study philosophy, it is to know man. Otherwise, I don't have to go any further than modern science. Of course, in the order of extension, biological science will tell me much more about man's body than philosophy. The ophthalmologist will say much more than the philosopher who is talking about vision. The philosopher should assume all this, but he hasn't discovered everything himself. This is why the philosopher has to be the ophthalmologist's friend, the biologist's friend, etc.

The philosopher looks at man. If he looks at man, his ultimate look in metaphysics must not then be on the one, but on the human person. Isn't the human person the how of the most perfect being that I experience? Actually, the most perfect being that I experience is in fact my person. I can experience this directly. I can grasp my "I am" directly, reflecting on my proper manner of existing; in this way, I discover that the affirmation of my "I am" is really like a unique, extraordinary experience. It concludes all philosophical research and shows how philosophy always remains linked to existence, to existing reality, and to the most perfect existence that I can experience. If philosophy strives to grasp the proper principles of that-which-is as being, it is to better grasp the concrete reality of man, his proper existence. For it is indeed man who interests the philosopher above all; and man is Peter, James, John. The philosopher also seeks to understand how man and woman can experience borderline situations, especially today. He understands that he must not leave it to the psychologist alone to talk about the human person and his borderline situations. Psychology in itself cannot discover a person's concrete existence, for it cannot discover his true finality.

If the purpose of philosophy is to know man, I cannot conclude my first philosophy with a property of being, but with man, that is, with the human person. This is essential today; to revive a taste for metaphysics, we must understand that philosophy alone can allow us to know man, and to allow us to know man in a concrete way. People will object that philosophy is abstract. But this is not true! Philosophy never departs from the judgment of existence. Psychology is more abstract than philosophy. It is more abstract, because it studies laws. Philosophy, on the other hand, studies the person, not the laws of the person, but the person as such, as the person is in each one of us. Each man must be capable of recognizing himself in this philosophy of the person [6].

From the "this is" to the "I am"

Let us now try to enter into this ultimate problem of first philosophy. While the analysis of first philosophy starts with the judgement of existence "this is," all first philosophy indeed ends in the judgement of existence "I am." In this way, all that is true in the philosophy of the spirit can be assumed by realistic philosophy. A realistic first philosophy goes from "this is" to "I am." It cannot start with the "I am" in order to reach being. Actually, in the affirmation "this is," as we have seen, the "this" is relativized by "is," whereas in the "I am" the "I" is never relativized. This is the fundamental difference between these two judgements of existence. When I say "this is," this judgement can imply my "I am" like the "I am" of my neighbor. My neighbor exists just as I exist; I do not have a particular privilege in relation to my neighbor. Whereas when I discover "I am," my "I am" is unique; I am the only one to reach it. My neighbor cannot reach my "I am." This is why if I start metaphysics with the "I am" it is the "I" which dominates and not the "this." This is clear and capital.

By affirming "I am," I am aware of being unique in relation to the entire world: there are not two "I ams" which are identical. It is very important in our metaphysical research to become aware of the originality of the "I am" to understand that there is something unique in the affirmation "I am." Actually, I grasp my being from the interior. Descartes had understood this very well: Cogito, ergo sum. By the cogito I reach "I am"; I reach it by my knowledge, by the awareness that I have of existing. Otherwise I would not be able to say "I am." Thus in a certain way knowledge is anterior to being in the "I am." If this knowledge is a metaphysical knowledge, my knowledge of the "I am" will be in its prolongation and hence will not be psychological; this affirmation "I am" will have a very great interiority. It's by the knowledge of being in its proper principles that I reach the "I am." By affirming it at this level I know that I am unique. And I am aware of the danger of such an affirmation as "I am" if there is not beforehand the entire metaphysical analysis of being. If I say "I am" without having in act the entire metaphysical analysis of being, my "I am" will be transformed into my psychological ego: I am; and I have made a fence that makes me at home with myself, and perfectly myself. I am a hermit in my "I am"; nobody will be able to enter into my little interior garden, my paradise. If somebody wants to come in, I say to him. "You will not come in; you do not know what it is." While the "I am" is unique at the metaphysical level, it remains open to other realities. But the danger is that I can enclose myself in my "I am," isolate myself. The danger comes from the confusion between the metaphysical and psychological; at the level of our awareness, psychology is foremost. It is clear that my way of being is unique, that my way of thinking is unique, that my way of loving is unique. If I remain in the exercise of my life, I know that I alone am able to execute this act: I think; I myself think; I myself love. So there is a very great danger of solipsism, according to the expression of idealist philosophers.

In a realistic philosophy, I know that when I affirm "I am," the affirmation of my existence is present. And my existence participates in existence. Thus we must know existence starting with the judgement of existence "this is" in order to profoundly know my existence. By this I acknowledge that all metaphysical analysis of that-which-is inasmuch as it is is necessary for the full comprehension of the "I am." Then we understand how important it is to avoid this withdrawal of being into ourselves; this turning inward inevitably leads to solipsism; enclosing oneself into one's own knowledge of self. Thus we must clearly grasp the difference between the affirmation "I am" at the end of the metaphysical analysis and the most spontaneous, most simple affirmation "I am" without any metaphysical analysis.

Now we can try to clarify what is proper in the affirmation "I am" comparatively to the affirmation "this is." In the "this is" I affirm above all a reality which goes beyond me. I cannot assimilate the being of a reality. I can only reach existence in a judgement, and not in the apprehension which always has a quiddidative mode. If I know being according to a quiddidative mode I do not reach being; I reach something about being, but I do not reach being. Thus I must affirm that being is given to me in the first place as something that transcends me, that I do not assimilate, which is given to me in pure gratuity. It is the other when it concerns man; it is the table; it is the ground upon which I walk: all that which is. But when I affirm "I am" I have an internal experience of that-which-is, at least as regards my being. Thus I grasp being from the interior, not being in as much as it is, but my being. I grasp my being from the interior; thus I have an intimate knowledge of my being: not a transcendent knowledge of being but an intimate knowledge. What is most intimate in myself is my existence, is my act of being. Thus from the interior I can grasp being by my being, without leaving my being. I have the direct grasp of existence, which is indispensable in order that the knowledge that I have of being from the analysis of first philosophy may become a knowledge very close to me, a very intimate knowledge, a knowledge very interior to my "I am," to my being. Thus there is something quite new here. For while I am familiar with my being, I am not being as being. Being as being is very objective, whereas my being is mine.... And there is this joy that I have of knowing that I am unique in my being! Just as there is the "genetic code" at the scientific level, there is the "metaphysical code" of being. It is my being, and by this I grasp the concreteness of being, my current existence.

This first observation is capital in order to understand that I really have two irreducible and complementary knowledges of that-which-is: on one hand that-which-is in its most perfect objectivity thanks to the judgement of existence and the existence of that-which-is inasmuch as it is; and on the other hand the sense of being existing in the most perfect subjectivity since I am alone in knowing it. Being is thus beyond the objective-subjective distinction. By this I discover the greatness of first philosophy. It is what is most objective, and thanks to this end of metaphysics in the "I am" it is what is most subjective. The subjectivity is based upon the "I am," but it is a radical subjectivity which is at the level of the "how" of the substance, at the level of that-which-is. Many of the discussions concerning realistic philosophy crumble when one understands that the entire analysis of first philosophy ends in this philosophical consideration of the "I am." In other words, realistic philosophy cannot remain in the analysis of that-which-is inasmuch as it is, but it must end in this experience of the "how" of the most perfect reality that I can experience: the person.

Autonomy, first dimension of the person

In the "I am" I grasp that my being implies a radical autonomy; I am radically autonomous in my being. Of course, the philosopher should ask himself the question: is this radical autonomy absolute, or is there a being which can establish this autonomy? But it is necessary first of all that I have the experience of this "I am" and, by this, the experience of my autonomy in the order of being, being the only one to discover this "I am."

If the experience of my "I am" enables me to grasp my autonomy in the order of that-which-is, it is precisely because substance is implied in the "I am." By the "I am" I thus have a concrete experience of substance, proper principle according to form of that-which-is. In the "I am" I intellectually, as it were, touch my substance--of course, not as proper principle of that-which-is inasmuch at it is, but in its proper modality of existing, its pos. The proper of substance is to subsist, to exist by itself. Thus I touch my substantial existence which has its autonomy, which is the source of all the other determinations of my individual being. Let us clearly understand that this experience is not formally the experience of my soul. The experience of my soul is something other than the experience of the "I am." We must clearly distinguish them: while I have an affective experience of the presence of my spiritual soul, I also have an experience in first philosophy of my "I am," of my existence.

The search for the truth, structure and nobility of the person

The "I am" then implies the capacity to seek the truth. "I am seeking the truth" and discovering in this way what structures my person inasmuch as it is spirit. This search for the truth in my "I am" can assume very different modalities. But the "I am seeking the truth," which in a certain way finalizes my spirit, above all implies this research of first philosophy about existing reality. I discover in myself an appetite for the truth, a radical desire for the truth. This desire for the truth forms an essential part of my person. A human person who does not seek the truth remains in an emptiness with respect to his own person. It is even the most fundamental emptiness, which has multiple consequences. A man who deliberately does not seek the truth is a person who remains imperfect, since truth is the good of my intelligence, of my spirit, of my spirit inasmuch as it possesses intelligence whose good is truth. If I do not seek the truth, I turn away from my good, from an essential good, from a primordial good.

I must do everything possible to reach the truth, and in this search for the truth I know that I develop within myself that which is most vital, most noble; for the intelligence is truly what is most noble in me. To exercise my intelligence in what is greatest, what is most perfect, is thus necessarily to discover the nobility of my person. The human person acquires its true nobility to the extent that it seeks the truth. In this way I experience that my being is a spiritual being beyond the entire world of quantity, beyond the material world. To seek the truth and to discover it is the most profound nobility of my person, and I am responsible for this discovery of the truth: this requires a constant effort and very great lucidity, especially today in a world where the search for the truth is so little in act, so little acknowledged. Thus this implies a very great effort, a constant struggle--one must often accept to be alone in returning to the source, by being convinced that only the truth can perfect my spirit, my intelligence, and give it its true dignity. Actually, if I listen only to men's opinions my intelligence cannot elevate itself: it does not acquire any independence; it remains enslaved. I can only free myself from this enslavement to the extent that I seek the truth; only this can free us [7].

We must discover this very important bond between the search for the truth and the development of the person; only the search for the truth can give him his dignity, enable him to acquire a greater and greater awareness of his responsibilities and of his liberty, liberty with respect to the environment in which he is. If I seek the truth, I am dependent upon the reality which exists, but I free myself more and more from all the opinions of men. To discover this is capital for the life of my intelligence, in order to grasp the proper dimension of the nobility of the human person and at the same time the awareness that I have of my autonomy. The fundamental autonomy of substance is lived in the very search for the truth. If there is not this search for the truth I cannot truly live by my autonomy; I then live by it imaginatively, in dependence upon all the seductions, upon all the slogans.