In this critique, I challenge one of the central claims of Catholic Thomistic philosophy: the proof of God from motion. My analysis is based on Edward Feser’s book The Last Superstition, a modern defense and popularization of Aristotelian-Thomistic metaphysics. Drawing on numerous critical insights from a wide range of thinkers, I argue that the so-called "First Way" fails, even if one accepts key Aristotelian assumptions.
To be clear, my criticism is
not merely the following dismissive attitude:
"Aquinas' 'First Way',
IMO, is just vacuous scholastic twaddle without justifying this anachronistic
Aristotelian assumption." (anonymous internet
comment)
There may be a kernel of truth
in that sentiment, especially in light of Walter Kaufmann's more nuanced
observation:
“What at first seemed to be a
simple proof is in fact a worldview in miniature, an image of the world
projected onto half a page. Is it a proof of God's existence which, taken by
itself, compels assent, quite independent of what we may think of Thomas' metaphysics
or the remainder of his System? Definitely not.”
(Walter Kaufmann – Critique of Religion and Philosophy)
However, my own criticism is
more charitable and methodical: I accept certain Aristotelian concepts for the
sake of argument, but still conclude that the proof is ultimately invalid or at
least insufficient.
The Argument from Motion
– A Summary
Feser, following Aquinas,
summarizes the argument from motion roughly as follows:
1.
Things change (i.e., move
from potentiality to actuality).
2.
Nothing can actualize its
own potential.
3.
Therefore, everything
that changes is changed by something else.
4.
This cannot proceed to
infinity in an essentially ordered series.
5.
Therefore, there must be
a first unmoved mover, pure actuality, which itself is not moved by anything
else.
6.
This, everyone
understands to be God.
To illustrate, Feser uses the
example of a stone being pushed by a stick, which is moved by a hand, which in
turn is moved by firing neurons, and so forth. This is an essentially
ordered (i.e., hierarchical and simultaneous) series of causes, in which
each link depends on the prior one for its action. Feser insists that such a
series requires a first member that is pure act—a being that is not in
potentiality in any respect.
Aquinas himself states:
“This cannot go on to
infinity, because then there would be no first mover, and, consequently, no
other mover [...]. Therefore, it is necessary to arrive at a first mover, moved
by no other; and this everyone understands to be God.”
The Central Objection:
The Argument Does Not Reach a Purely Actual Being
The key problem is this: Even
if we grant the impossibility of infinite regress in essentially ordered
series, it does not follow that the first mover must be pure act
in every respect.
As philosopher Scott MacDonald
argues:
“All that is required of a
first mover is that it be in actuality with respect to the relevant state of
motion—not that it be in actuality in all respects. Thus, the argument only
shows that for any given causal chain, there must be some prior cause in act.
But this could just be something mundane, like fire heating wood, or a human
agent pushing a cart. There’s no necessity to infer a metaphysically ultimate
being—no ‘God’ in the classical sense.”
These so-called mundane
primary movers suffice to ground finite causal chains, without
necessitating an ultimate metaphysical being. Hence, the argument fails to
bridge the gap between finite causal explanation and a transcendent deity.
Essentially vs.
Accidentally Ordered Series
Aquinas attempts to strengthen
the case by distinguishing between:
- Essentially ordered series, where causes must be simultaneous (e.g.,
hand–stick–stone), and
- Accidentally ordered series, where causes do not need to coexist (e.g.,
father and son).
The claim is that only
essentially ordered series require a first member. But this distinction is
problematic.
Even Aristotle acknowledged
that certain motions propagate without ongoing external causation:
“When something has moved a
portion of water or air, and this in turn has moved another, then even when the
initial impulse has ceased, it results in a similar sort of movement continuing
[...].”
(Aristotle –
On Divination in Sleep)
In modern terms, such
propagation resembles inertia or momentum—natural phenomena that
require no continuous external cause once initiated.
The Problem of
Self-Movers and Internal Sources of Motion
Aristotle famously denies the
possibility of self-movers, but his argument is flawed. As Anthony Kenny
observes:
“Aristotle’s reductio ad
absurdum of self-motion equivocates between logical and causal dependence, and
between necessary and sufficient conditions. It fails to prove that a body
cannot initiate its own movement.”
Moreover, Aristotle and
Aquinas themselves accept transitions that are not from potentiality to
actuality, but rather from act to act—e.g., a shift from not-seeing to seeing,
or recalling a memory. Such "phase changes" are not best described as
movement in the strict Aristotelian sense but nevertheless show internally
originated activity.
George A. Blair even
concludes:
“If one accepts such
transitions as legitimate, then the First Way at most argues for a living being
capable of initiating motion—not a purely actual divine being.”
Gerold Prauss takes this
further by arguing that the mind, as an immaterial, dynamic subject, is
capable of initiating bodily motion from within:
“The subject would be exactly
that which, through itself as a special form of constant motion, places its
body in motion—first through cognition, and thus through action.”
Modern Physics and
Natural Motion
In light of modern physics,
the idea that motion requires a continuous external cause is outdated. Sean
Carroll points out:
“The whole structure of
Aristotle’s argument for an unmoved mover rests on the idea that motion
requires causes. Once we understand conservation of momentum, that idea loses
its force. Constant motion is natural and expected.”
Gravity, as Einstein
reconceptualized it, is not a force but a curvature of space-time. As Michio
Kaku writes:
“Gravity does not pull; space
pushes. The Earth’s mass curves space, and this curvature moves objects.”
Thus, large masses curve
space, and space guides smaller masses—without the need for any unmoved mover.
The Nature of
Potentiality Itself
Zev Bechler distinguishes
between two types of potentiality:
1.
Genuine potentiality: Fully grounded in the actual, and capable of immediate
self-actualization.
2.
Non-genuine potentiality: Based only on analogy or inductive reasoning—incapable of causal
efficacy.
Bechler concludes:
“The proof of the necessity of
a first unmoved mover is destroyed: no such mover is needed. In natural motion,
genuine potentiality itself is the mover.”
Motion is not something that
always requires an external cause; it can arise from within a system,
especially in cases of natural motion or life processes.
Friedrich Adolf Trendelenburg
also challenges the Aristotelian framework by arguing that:
“Motion is more fundamental
than the concepts of potentiality and actuality. These are abstracted from the
more primitive experience of motion itself.”
For Trendelenburg, everything
is in motion, and apparent rest is merely a balance of opposing motions.
Motion does not originate from rest; rather, motion comes from motion.
Leibniz, too, proposed an intermediate concept: vis activa, or active force—something that lies between pure potentiality and full actuality. These forces are active, dynamic, and self-actualizing tendencies within things, striving toward manifestation, which will always be realized unless obstructed.
Conclusion
In conclusion, even if we
accept some Aristotelian metaphysical principles, the argument from motion does
not succeed in proving the existence of a purely actual, unmoved mover—let
alone a being that can be identified with the God of classical theism.
Instead, the concept of motion
has evolved. It is no longer understood as a metaphysical problem in need of a
transcendent explanation, but rather as an empirical phenomenon with internal,
structural, and natural origins.
The First Way, then, is not a
compelling proof of God’s existence—it is, at best, a historical artifact that
reflects a now-outdated worldview.
Feser’s Holistic Turn and the Problem with the Composition Argument
In response to various objections, Edward
Feser reformulates Aquinas’ First Way into a composition
argument in an attempt to preserve its force. However, this
move introduces a deeper problem: Feser essentially denies the ontologically
prior efficacy of parts altogether.
He states:
“For example, if a stone is a true
substance, then while the innumerable atoms that make it up are real, they
exist within it virtually or potentially rather than actually. What actually
exists is just the one thing, the stone itself.”
(Edward Feser – Aristotle’s Revenge)
As Joseph Schmid notes, this leads to a
significant implication:
“[S]ince (per one of Feser’s premises)
only actual things can actualize something’s potential for existence, it
follows that the parts Feser adduces cannot causally actualize the existence of
the substances they compose.”
(Existential Inertia and the Aristotelian Proof)
This reveals Feser's commitment to a
thoroughly holistic metaphysics. As Philip Goff explains:
“According to holism, the table in front
of you does not derive its existence from the sub-atomic particles that compose
it; rather, those sub-atomic particles derive their existence from the table.”
(Is the Universe a Conscious Mind?)
(Although Goff uses an artifact as an
example, the principle is clearer when applied to natural substances, as Feser
does.)
Ross D. Inman provides a detailed summary
of this neo-Aristotelian holism:
“Some spacetime occupants are
metaphysically elite, fundamental, or basic in that their natures are such that
they fail to depend on any distinct entity for their existence and identity.
[...] Properties, whether particular or universal, are metaphysically posterior
to their substantial bearers. Causation [...] is best understood in light of
the manifestation of the powers and liabilities of individual substances. [...]
At bottom, the neo-Aristotelian considers the causal motor and cement of the
universe to ultimately derive from propertied particulars that are
metaphysically fundamental—that is, Aristotelian substances.”
(Substance and the Fundamentality of the Familiar)
He further clarifies:
“Substantial Priority [...] employs the
classical Aristotelian insight that substances [...] are not only
metaphysically prior to each of their parts, but also ground the existence and
identity of each of their parts.”
This undermines the very foundation of the composition argument, which assumes that parts can explain the
existence of the whole.
It is true that every chemical substance
is divisible. However, before division, the substance is not a collection of
actual parts. The parts become actual only in the act of division. Under
specific conditions, these parts can be recombined into the original whole, in
which the parts are again only
potentially present.
Consider, for example, a drop of water
floating in a space station. It can be divided into two smaller drops and then
recombined. Yet the recombined drop cannot meaningfully be described as being composed of two parts. Holistically speaking, it has
no parts—only aspects or properties.
Similarly, water can be split chemically
into hydrogen and oxygen. These elements were present only potentially in the
water, and through electrolysis they are actualized. Conversely, water can be
synthesized from hydrogen and oxygen (under risky and costly conditions). None
of this threatens holism.
A further example is biological: the organism as a holistic unity. Herbert McCabe
illustrates this vividly:
“A leopard is self-moving because the
action of one part of it, the brain, which is an action of the leopard, moves
another part of it, the legs, which is a movement of the leopard. [...] We
think of the leopard as the natural unit of which the legs and brain are
essentially parts; being a part-of-the-leopard is what it is for the leg to be
what it is. [...] The whole leopard, so to say,
comes first. The parts
are secondary. If the leg ceases to be part of the leopard it will turn into
something completely different, as mutton is something completely different
from a sheep.”
(On Aquinas)
Zev Bechler offers a concise summary of
this Aristotelian holism:
“[...] [A] natural object (e.g., a piece
of earth, water, a plant, or a living organism) is absolutely whole, absolutely
a unity. Not even what we would normally call the parts of such a natural
substance (e.g., the legs of the cow) are actual parts. [...] A separate leg is
no leg at all, Aristotle would say.”
(Aristotle’s Theory of Actuality)
And further:
“Aristotle’s forms are not parts or
components within the object because, being aspects, they are not the kind of
thing that can compose their object.”
Persistence over time is also intuitively associated with holistic
entities:
“I say that [a] chair’s existence at t + ε is fully
explained by the actualization of the potential, possessed by the chair at t,
to continue to exist through t + ε, and the absence of anything that
intervenes to prevent the realization of this potential.”
(Graham Oppy – On Stage One of Feser’s ‘Aristotelian Proof’)
As Anthony Kenny remarks:
“Most things naturally tend to remain in
existence.”
(Medieval Philosophy)
And a blogger puts it succinctly:
“[O]nce [things] are GIVEN existence there
is no reason to assume that they could lose that existence if something wasn’t
preserving their existence.”
This leads to another crucial point: Feser
assumes that substances require a per se
sustaining cause. But this only holds if there is a force
(internal or external) directed at their destruction.
Otherwise, the need for such a cause is not justified.
Joseph Schmid points this out explicitly:
“[A] per se, sustaining cause C is
required for S’s actual existence only if (i) there is some F (either intrinsic
or extrinsic to S) acting on S to bring S toward non-existence; (ii) F is a net
factor or force in the absence of C’s existential sustenance; and (iii) S
actually exists such that actual existence is distinct from the condition or
outcome of S’s non-existence.
But here’s the rub: on the basis of the Aristotelian proof [...], conditions
(i) and (ii) have simply not been adequately justified as holding.”
(Stage One of the Aristotelian Proof)
Furthermore, Feser’s metaphysics appears reductionist when it comes to divine causation. If
God is to be the first member of a per se causal series, then something physically indivisible must occupy the second
place (but be first within the immanent order). Otherwise, the transcendent
cause cannot be “first” in any coherent sense. But if such immanent simples
suffice, then the move to a transcendent cause becomes unnecessary.
As Edward N. Martin observes:
“To jump from a first immanent cause to a
first transcendent cause appears [it doesn't only appear so] to be one of the
most questionable moves in the Thomistic program.”
(Infinite Causal Regress and the Secunda Via)
He adds:
“Feser offers us the explanation that God
is the first transcendent cause, which, given God’s eternality and
immutability, is prima facie [but not only prima facie] very hard to accept.”
A naturalistic worldview, assuming
fundamental immanent particles, seems far more parsimonious. If one finds
consciousness to pose a serious explanatory challenge, naturalistic
panpsychism (Philip Goff) or naturalistic
dualism (David Chalmers) could serve as viable additional
hypotheses.
Even the notion of indivisible particles with no further internal
structure aligns with this naturalistic perspective:
“[E]ven though [the particles] have
spatial extent, the question of their composition is without any content.”
(Brian Greene – The Elegant Universe)
(Here Greene refers to strings, but the principle applies more broadly.)
Aquinas himself seems to allow for
something like this:
“Although a body, considered
mathematically, is divisible to infinity, the natural body is not divisible to
infinity.”
(Commentary on Aristotle’s Physics, via Wikipedia on Minima Naturalia)
Naturalistic Hylomorphism
and the Failure of the Composition Argument
One may grant the Thomist a
version of hylomorphism, if it is truly necessary—but it must be a concrete,
naturalistic one.
In this version, form and
matter are not two alien, abstract entities awkwardly combined by a divine
agent. Rather, they are two intrinsic aspects of a single, unified
physical entity—a particle. This natural duality expresses itself as different manifestations
of energy: matter corresponds to a kind of latent, potential energy (e.g.
rest mass), while form corresponds to dynamic field energy (e.g. an
electromagnetic field) that constantly arises from matter and dissolves into
it. This field-form can move matter smoothly and continuously, giving rise to
complexity without invoking anything supernatural.
Zev Bechler articulates this
model metaphorically:
“The form, or nature, or
essence, is some definite component sitting inside the matter but distinct from
it in a simple, physical sense, like the balloon from the helium it contains.”
(Aristotle’s Theory of Actuality)
In this view, form and
matter are inseparable, always co-existing as an indissoluble unity,
neither created nor annihilated, and without any loss of energy. Perhaps their
distinctness is only conceptual, existing solely in the mind, whereas extramentally,
the particle is ontologically one.
In fact, modern physical
fields can be seen as analogues to Aristotelian form. Fields move
matter—they explain motion. Moreover, the gap between form and matter
narrows in physics, pleasing any naturalist. Marc Lange notes:
“Fields have energy. They
therefore are a form of matter; they can be regarded as the fifth state of
matter (solid, liquid, gas, and plasma are the other four).”
(An Introduction to the Philosophy of Physics)
Fields and the Philosophy
of Mind
Field theories may also
illuminate the nature of mind. Standard neuroscience struggles with
qualia, unity, privacy, and causality. As Mostyn W. Jones explains:
“Standard neuroscience
investigates how neuronal processing works. But it has problems explaining the
mind’s qualia, unity, privacy, and causality [...]. Field theories of mind try
to avoid such problems by turning from neurons to their fields. Here, minds
typically get their unity from the continuous nature of the fields generated by
discrete neurons, while different qualia arise from different structures in the
fields. [...] Field theories offer new ontological approaches to dualism’s
problematic causality and reductionism’s explanatory gap.”
(Electromagnetic-Field Theories of Mind)
Particles, Identity, and
Spatial Distinction
The individuality of particles
might be nothing more than spatial distinctness, placing the identity
not in the particle itself but in the observer’s conceptual framework. Immanuel
Kant captures this well:
“Take two drops of water, and
set aside any intrinsic differences (of quality and quantity) between them; the
mere fact that they have been intuited simultaneously in different locations
justifies us in holding that they are numerically different.”
(Critique of Pure Reason, end of the Analytic)
This applies to both extended
and point-like particles. Physics uses point particles as idealizations:
“A point particle [...] is an
idealization of particles heavily used in physics. Its defining feature is that
it lacks spatial extension; being dimensionless, it does not take up space.”
(Wikipedia: Point particle)
Even zero-size particles can
have extended effects via their fields:
“Extended particles have a
fixed size, although they may have a fuzzy edge; point-like particles are
mathematical abstractions with zero size. But even zero-size particles have an
extended effect, due to the effect of the field surrounding them.”
(Fermilab, Today in a Nutshell)
Why the Composition
Argument Fails
Attempts to salvage Aquinas’
First Way via a composition argument ultimately fail. The idea is
simple: parts compose wholes, and these parts are themselves composed, ad
infinitum—until the chain terminates in God.
But this chain is broken by
the existence of holistic substances, fundamental particles, and point-like
entities. These are not composed of parts in any meaningful sense. Feser’s
reconstruction of the First Way thus does not succeed.
Moreover, if Feser insists
that “motion” in Thomistic terms refers to more than just locomotion, he
runs into another issue. Since he aims to convince non-Thomists, he
should restrict the discussion to two kinds of motion that are widely accepted:
external motion (locomotion) and internal mental change (e.g., a
stream of consciousness). Even within these constraints, his argument for a
divine mover does not succeed, especially regarding locomotion—his own
chosen example.
The Problem of Thomistic
Absolutism
A further issue is the binary
mindset of many Thomists. For them, a thing is either:
- Fully independent (God), or
- Fully dependent (creation)
No middle ground is allowed.
Yet, it is not hard to conceive of a semi-independence in natural
things. It is also plausible to consider that the fundamental "stuff"
of the world might be self-sustaining, relying only on its intrinsic
nature or on quantum foundations.
Nick Herbert captures this
beautifully:
“It’s beginning to look as if
everything is made of one substance—call it quantumstuff—which combines
particle and wave at once in a peculiar quantum style. By dissolving the
matter/field distinction, quantum physicists realized a dream of the ancient
Greeks [...] We now believe the world to be All Quantumstuff. The world is one
substance.”
(Quantum Reality: Beyond the New Physics)
Alternative proposals for such
a foundational entity include:
- The wave function of the universe
- Spacetime itself
- The initial singularity
Why Thomistic
Hylomorphism Cannot Save the Proof
Thomistic hylomorphism claims
that form and matter require continuous divine recombination, as
neither can persist alone. But this claim collapses under scrutiny.
As Paul Audi argues:
“Even if matter and form have
no intrinsic tendency to persist, they might once joined. [...] We can allow
that matter without form and form without matter are nothing, but go on to say
that the matter-form union is perfectly stable. [...] They give what they
didn’t have by pooling their resources.”
(Existential Inertia)
The Misleading Leap to a
Timeless God
Even if Feser’s argument leads
to a purely actual actualizer (AA), it does not follow that this
actualizer still exists. As Susan Humphreys asks:
“Isn’t it possible that the AA
is what went BANG in the Big Bang? [...] He fully actualized his potential—in
the act of creation—by blowing himself up. Thus, he no longer exists.”
(An Alternative View of Edward Feser’s Case for God)
Indeed, when God was alone,
prior to creation, He could not have been an “actualizer” in any meaningful
sense. He was merely pure actuality in the sense of fulfilled reality,
perhaps best understood as self-subsisting creative potency—not as an
agent in motion.
The Thomistic Collapse
into Conceptualism and the Challenge of Potentiality
Thomists occasionally appear to adopt a metaphysical position that echoes certain Far Eastern philosophies, particularly in their apparent ontological deconstruction of substance. They seem to suggest, akin to the iconic line from The Matrix, “There is no spoon”—implying that what we perceive as a spoon is merely an emergent phenomenon arising from specific conditions. These conditions, however, are not limited to our perception but encompass the very factors that constitute the spoon’s existence: air pressure, temperature, atomic and molecular bonding, electromagnetic interactions, and the spatial-temporal context in which it is situated. Yet, these conditions themselves are contingent upon prior conditions, creating a regress of dependencies that risks reducing reality to a recursive abstraction. No meta-language can conjure the spoon into reality. I can only pretend that the spoon exists as if it existed in itself.
In this light, one might ask
whether potentiality, in the strict Thomistic sense, exists at all
beyond ideal conceptualization. For in classical theism, God does not
actualize preexisting potentialities. Rather, He creates ex nihilo—bringing
substances into being directly, not by transforming possibilities into
realities. This is philosophically contentious in itself, particularly if we
have not hypostasized or reified nothingness as something from which
creation could emerge.
Every created substance is, in
this view, fully actual at the very moment it is brought into being.
Human beings, limited in perception, infer potentiality within
substances only because we cannot perceive the seamless re-creative act
of God. From God’s perspective, the world moves from act to act—not from
potentiality to actuality.
Now, if there really is a distinction
within a thing between actuality and potentiality, then God cannot simply
keep them “close” to one another—He must unify them. But to
unify them is to eliminate the ontological difference. Only actuality
can remain in the union. If the two remain truly distinct, there would be no real
identity, and hence no real entity.
This reflects the Aristotelian
principle that a cause can only give what it has. Since God is pure
actuality, He can only give actuality, not potentiality.
This reframing casts doubt on
the Aristotelian proof itself. If the entire argument relies on
potentiality—yet potentiality does not ontologically exist—then the proof
collapses on its own terms.
Joseph Schmid writes:
“Under classical theism,
creation cannot be the causing of something to reduce from potency to act. [...] God is purely actual. Hence, no potencies exist prior to creation. And if no potencies exist
prior to creation, then they only exist posterior to creation.”
(Stage One of the Aristotelian Proof: A Critical Appraisal)
But I would go further: they do
not exist even after creation. If God continuously recreates everything anew
from moment to moment, then adding potentiality to an already actualized thing
is superfluous. The alleged potential would be replaced by a new act in
the very next instant. Its presence at a prior moment is irrelevant.
Actuality, however, must be
present in each specific moment. A thing must be in act to be something
at all. Why not fully in act? A thing is fully actual in all the respects
that make it what it is, though not in all conceivable respects (which
belong to God alone).
Ontologically distinct
potentiality “attached” to the thing does not contribute to the thing’s identity—because
to do so, it would have to be unified with its actuality. But in that
unification, it would be dissolved, leaving only actuality.
Thus, from God's side, things
move from act to act. God, being pure act, can only produce act. If
creation means actualization, then what is actualized is only actuality.
The term “actualization” itself implies this.
One might object: things
can change other things. Doesn’t that require potentiality in the
changed? But if new properties come into being, then God alone is the
true cause of that coming-into-being. He does not draw out a property
from a preexisting potentiality but creates it. No creature ever truly
actualizes a potential in another. All change ultimately proceeds from
God in pure actuality.
This brings us to a problem: God
may form an Eleatic unity with creation—a kind of absolute identity.
A Naturalistic Ontology
Without Thomistic Potentiality
What might be the ontological
structure of individual things in an atheistic or non-theistic
world?
A thing’s existence—understood
strictly—could be viewed as a static potency, timeless and stable, yet
active in its own way (e.g., as a fundamental particle). Out of this existence,
the form of the thing might emerge spontaneously, in a continuous transition
from act to act—physically, perhaps as a field or wave behavior.
There would be no passive
potentiality of the whole thing. Either it possesses an intrinsic
tendency, or it is externally coerced into change—but not without
resistance. That is, its activity must be given up or redirected.
Thus, “potentiality” in this
framework becomes a conceptual placeholder. The Thomistic description of
motion as a reduction from potentiality to actuality becomes merely an idealization,
which should instead be described using more naturalistic categories: spontaneity,
tendency, resistance, coercion.
In such a world, resorting to
God as a metaphysical stopgap to explain every transition is not only
unnecessary, but too easy. Whether the influxus physicus (God’s
continuous causal influence) is even coherent remains a difficult question.
A New Starting Point: The
Line Analogy
Consider an alternative
approach to metaphysics: start with a worldly substance conceived as a finite
line from point A to point B. In the mind's eye, this line exists as a
continuous whole. It can be imagined as real—a complete, closed, finite
magnitude.
Let’s keep this line as our
central object of analysis, for its simplicity allows us to clarify deeper
metaphysical claims.
There are two main ways to
view the line:
- The holist says the line is continuous
and actual as a whole.
- The reductionist sees it as a set of discrete
points (either ideal or minimally extended).
The holist might explain the
line in several ways: it always existed; it was drawn once; it was assembled
from smaller lines; or it’s a remnant of a larger one. All these answers
satisfy the holist.
The reductionist, by contrast,
sees the line as composed of indivisible points or dots that hold
together by some natural force—perhaps with surrounding fields.
Then comes Feser with the Thomistic
argument. He tells both: you’re missing something. He insists the line is composed
and this composition demands explanation. The line’s halves cause the
whole, and those halves have their own parts, and so on. This cannot regress
infinitely. Thus, there must be a first cause—God.
But the holist replies:
you divide the line only retrospectively. You artificially cut what was
initially grasped as a seamless whole. Why accept this reductionist
view? Why not suppose an immanent unifying principle, intrinsic to the
substance, which renders God superfluous?
Moreover, your division
involves ideal points, not real boundaries. There are no gaps, separations,
or vacua between parts—so no real parts at all. You’re still dealing
with a holistic unity. Your “parts” are only conceptual abstractions,
not ontological constituents.
The reductionist may say his
points are either without extension (and thus indivisible), or minimally
extended, but indivisible in actuality. His analysis ends with a natural
many.
Feser would now appeal to Thomistic
hylomorphism, which is problematic. Not only are there many alternative
metaphysical systems, but even Aristotle did not view properties as parts.
Form, in Aristotelian hylomorphism, is an aspect, not a constituent. It
is inseparable from matter in actual reality. No third principle (e.g.
God, “glue,” or “putty”) is needed to “bind” form and matter together.
A Monistic, Pantheistic
Alternative
Imagine now a monistic
thinker, perhaps pantheistic. For him, a line must begin with a point—and
this point is God or Nature. But this point cannot stand outside
itself to create the line. Rather, it spontaneously extends itself into
a line.
This divine point is nowhere
on the line, and yet everywhere in it. It is not an intersection but a
hidden presence—manifest only mystically at any point on the line. In
that way, God is internal to the world, not external like the Thomistic
deity.
On the Possibility of an
Infinite Series of Essentially Ordered Causes
1. Introduction: The
Thomistic Triad
In Thomistic metaphysics, an
essentially ordered causal series (also called a hierarchical series) is
thought to require a triadic structure: (1) a first cause, (2) one or more
intermediate causes, and (3) a final effect. This structure is not merely illustrative;
it is regarded as metaphysically necessary. The causal efficacy of each
intermediate member depends on its predecessor, and ultimately on a first,
underived cause.
However, I argue that such a
triadic structure need not be conceptually incompatible with an infinite
series. The ideas of essential ordering and infinitude are not mutually
exclusive. Properly understood, an infinite essentially ordered series can
retain the functional structure of the Thomistic triad—even in the
absence of a metaphysical first.
2. Conceptual Space for
Infinite Hierarchical Causality
It is possible to conceive an
infinite causal series in the mind’s eye, consisting entirely of instrumental
(i.e., dependent) causes. The more abstract our consideration becomes, the more
plausible this infinitude seems. The intuitive discomfort arises primarily from
concrete or spatialized representations, not from logical incoherence.
A standard Thomistic objection
runs as follows: "An infinite regress of essentially ordered causes
must be impossible, because otherwise causal power would ultimately derive from
nothing." But this conclusion is not forced. One can instead hold that
causal power is always derived, passed on from one cause to another—ad
infinitum. There is no step in the series at which the chain requires a
non-derived, underived cause. What grounds the causal efficacy of each member
is its place within the structure, not outside of it.
3. Apparent Absurdity and
the Role of Visualization
This notion may initially seem
counterintuitive—especially when imagined as a spatial chain of bodies in
motion, stretching endlessly outward. But not all regressions are spatial.
Edward Feser, for instance, illustrates essential ordering by regressions into
the small: causal power is passed down through smaller and smaller instrumental
parts. Here, the infinite regress appears less absurd, even more abstractly
plausible.
4. Reformulating the
Triad in an Infinite Context
To preserve the Thomistic
triadic structure under the assumption of an infinite regress, we must
reconceive the roles of “first” and “intermediate” causes. The key is to relativize
these roles without abandoning the structure itself.
Two interpretations of such a
triadic structure within an infinite series can be distinguished:
(A) The Comprehensive
Interpretation (as intended by the present author):
- A =
the entire infinite causal series, excluding only the final two
members. That is, A represents the full series of causes stretching
backwards without beginning, up to the penultimate and ultimate causes.
- B =
the quasi-intermediate cause, i.e., the penultimate member of the
chain.
- C =
the final effect or ultimate caused entity.
In this interpretation, A is
not a single cause but the totality of instrumental causes (potentially
infinite), which together function as the causal background for B and C. The
triad is preserved functionally, though A is infinite and lacks a metaphysically
first member.
(B) The Relative
Interpretation (alternative reading):
- A =
a quasi-first cause—a relatively earlier member, arbitrarily
selected within the infinite series.
- B =
a quasi-intermediate cause—a subsequent link.
- C = the final effect.
This reading treats the
triadic structure as local and perspectival: in an infinite chain, any segment
of three members may instantiate the functional pattern of the triad. What
matters is the ordering of dependency, not absolute position.
Conclusion of Section:
In both versions, the
Thomistic triad can be preserved at the level of structure and function, even
within an infinite series. What changes is only the ontological status
of the “first cause”: from absolute and underived, to functional and
relational.
5. Responding to the
Charge of Arbitrariness
A likely objection is that the
division into A, B, and C is arbitrary—especially if A encompasses an infinite
totality. But arbitrariness in partitioning is not incoherence. The fact that
such structuring is possible within an infinite series undermines the
Thomist's claim that a first cause is necessary for causal efficacy. The
defender of infinity needs only to show that a coherent alternative
exists.
6. Kerr and the Burden of
Proof
Christopher Kerr argues that
without a first cause, no member of the series can have causal efficacy:
“To deny a primary cause to
the one-many series, i.e., to affirm the possibility of an infinite series, is
precisely to remove the causal efficacy of the causes within the series…”
But this assumes an
equivalence that has not been demonstrated. As Thomas Oberle points out:
"My objection is that the
Thomist has not shown that affirming that an essentially ordered series is
infinite is equivalent to removing the primary cause of a finite essentially
ordered series whilst maintaining that very series still has causal efficacy."
— Thomas Oberle, Grounding, Infinite Regress, and the Thomistic Cosmological
Argument
This is the heart of the
matter. Kerr's argument treats the positing of an infinite series as logically
equivalent to removing the primary cause from a finite one. But these are not
equivalent. In a finite series, removal of the first severs the chain. In an
infinite series, there is no first to remove.
The Thomist must
demonstrate—not assume—that these two cases are metaphysically analogous. Until
this is done, the Thomistic objection lacks force, and the defender of infinity
is under no obligation to show the actual existence of such a
series—only its possibility.
7. Analogy and Intuition:
Their Limits
To support the finitude of
essentially ordered series, Thomists often appeal to analogies: a train without
an engine, a watch without a mainspring, an infinite stack of suspended rings.
These analogies, however, function as intuition pumps, not rigorous
arguments.
As J.L. Mackie puts it:
“We would hardly be reassured
if told that a watch lacked a mainspring but had an infinite train of gear
wheels. Nor would we expect a railway train consisting of an infinite number of
carriages, the last pulled by the second last, and so on, to get along without
an engine…”
But these examples smuggle in
empirical assumptions: namely, that causal chains work like mechanical systems
we already understand. They do not prove that metaphysical causality
must function in the same way. Moreover, applying these analogies to a universe
already in motion (as opposed to one waiting to be moved) begs the question.
Even Edward Feser's refined
distinction between “linear” and “hierarchical” series—meant to highlight the
unique dependence in essential ordering—fails to address this specific
objection. As Oberle notes, the distinction is already granted. What is not
granted is that infinitude in a hierarchical structure entails incoherence or
collapse.
8. Summary and Conclusion
The Thomistic rejection of
infinite essentially ordered series rests on the unproven premise that causal
efficacy must originate in a metaphysically first, underived cause. Yet once we
distinguish between removing a first cause from a finite chain
and affirming a series that was never finite to begin with, the
Thomist’s analogy collapses.
Furthermore, once we allow for
a relativized or structurally reformulated triad, the supposed
incoherence of an infinite series disappears. Whether through a comprehensive
interpretation (A as the whole infinite series minus the last two links) or a
relative one (each member playing a triadic role depending on position), the functional
structure remains intact.
The defender of infinity does
not need to prove that such a series exists, only that it is possible.
And once that possibility is granted, the Thomist no longer holds a conceptual
monopoly on causal explanation.
Thomistic Composition,
Infinite Regress, and the Role of Simples: A Critical Analysis
1. Introduction:
Composition and the Problem of Causal Regress
In certain strands of his
reasoning, Edward Feser appears to imply—perhaps inadvertently—a commitment to
a kind of Thomistic atomism. That is, his metaphysical framework seems
to require the existence of fundamental, physically indivisible entities, even
though Thomistic doctrine typically denies their existence. This tension
becomes particularly evident in his arguments for divine conservation,
which claim that all composite entities must be continually sustained in
existence by God.
If God halts a metaphysical
regress of causes, then the second member in the explanatory chain (after God)
would logically be a non-divine, non-transcendent, physically simple entity—something
that is not composed of parts. But would Thomists really accept such a notion?
Doing so would entail a strong form of immanent reductionism, where
everything in the world depends on and is reducible to these basic
constituents. The explanatory chain would then run through electrons and
quarks, which actualize atoms, which actualize molecules, and so on.
Yet Thomists emphatically reject
the existence of material simples, arguing instead that all material
entities are composed. The result is a metaphysical tension: the Thomist wants
to deny material simples while also requiring that God act upon
something foundational to halt the regress. This sets the stage for a deeper dilemma.
2. The Regress Dilemma:
Simples vs. External Termination
Fox ITK articulates the core
of this dilemma with impressive clarity:
Option 1: The regress of composition terminates in a simple part of a composite that
is not itself composed.
Option 2: The regress does not terminate internally but is halted by a
simple entity external to the composite—namely, God—who acts to end the
regress.
Thomists are committed to rejecting
Option 1, since they deny that physical simples exist. Thus, they must
choose Option 2, in which a transcendent, non-composite being (God)
halts the regress externally. However, this move leads to what we might call
the transitivity problem.
In hierarchical causal series,
causal dependency is transitive: if A causes B, and B causes C, then A
also causes C. For God’s causal act to ground such a series, there must be a first
member upon which God acts directly, from which His sustaining power can
transmit through the rest of the series. But if no first member exists—because
every member is composed of further parts—then God’s act never reaches a base.
The causal chain has no ontological grounding point, and divine
causation fails to explain the whole.
If we designate some arbitrary
level of composition as n, and n is itself composed, then its
parts must also be composed, and so on infinitely. If God acts on n, but
n has parts that are not themselves sustained, then the regress is
not truly halted. But if there is a non-composite part for God to
act upon, then the regress stops naturally—making God’s sustaining act
redundant.
This is the core tension: Thomism
requires simples to make divine causality work, but explicitly denies
the existence of such simples. It cannot have it both ways.
3. Transitivity,
Redundancy, and the Problem of Composition
The issue becomes even more
acute when we consider how Feser understands God’s sustaining role. In
his view, God sustains every composite being by acting on it in a way that is fully
transitive through its layers of composition. But if no level of
composition is basic, then there is no level where the act of sustaining
begins, and hence no transitivity.
Fox ITK insightfully points
out that this results in an ontological redundancy: if God acts on some
arbitrary level of reality (say, quarks or fields), but these are not
fundamental, then His act fails to account for their parts, which are still
composed. On the other hand, if quarks are fundamental, then the regress
halts internally, without God—making the divine cause unnecessary.
The problem is structural.
Feser’s argument presupposes that there is some level of reality where
divine causality can latch on and transmit downward. But if composition is
infinite or gunky (as many metaphysicians suggest), no such level exists,
and the argument collapses under its own weight.
4. Fox ITK on Simples,
Gunk, and the Nature of Divine Conservation
Fox ITK develops this critique
further by highlighting an underlying equivocation in the argument from
composition. On the one hand, the Thomist denies the existence of non-composite
simples. On the other, he argues that all composites require a sustaining
cause, and that God is the only candidate for this role.
But in so doing, the Thomist
seems to confuse two distinct notions of "sustaining":
1.
Parts sustaining wholes, in a mereological or physical sense,
2.
God sustaining beings, in a metaphysical and ontological sense.
If there are no fundamental
parts, then God is not acting on any compositional base. Instead, He must
be sustaining every level of parthood simultaneously—but this seems to
undercut the intuitive force of the argument, which begins from the notion that
wholes depend on parts. If no fundamental parts exist, then there is no
grounding layer for God to act upon, and His role as a sustaining cause becomes
abstract and disconnected from the structure of composition the argument
invokes.
Fox notes:
“If there were such
fundamental parts (simples), it seems like the argument falls away—or at least
becomes an argument from metaphysical rather than physical composition. That
would be odd, given that the intuitive force behind the argument is based on physical
composition.”
Moreover, in his critique of existential
inertia, Feser claims that a being cannot persist unless something (God)
continuously causes its continued existence. He rejects the idea that a being
could have an inherent "power" to persist, since that power would
itself depend on the being. But as Fox points out, Oppy's view does not
require such a power. Inertia is just the default condition—a thing
continues to exist unless something destroys it.
Feser also presses the issue
of individuation among simples: what distinguishes one simple from
another? He argues that if there is a distinguishing feature, that must imply composition.
Fox counters that Cambridge properties—like spatial or temporal
location—can distinguish simples without implying composition, just as
Feser claims that God’s Cambridge properties (e.g., "being worshipped in
2025") do not violate divine simplicity. If that move is valid for God, it
should also be valid for other hypothetical simples.
Feser then shifts the
discussion to ask what caused the extrinsic differences, but this changes
the argument entirely. It is no longer about composition per se, but about causal
explanation. In so doing, the original argument fails to deliver what it
promised.
5. Infinite Causal Series
and the Analogy of the Train
Returning to the topic of infinite
regress, Fox ITK presents a helpful analogy: imagine a train composed of an
infinite number of carriages, each motionless on its own, but pulled into
motion because the carriage in front of it is already moving. The traditional
Thomist claim is that this requires a locomotive (first mover). But Fox
suggests that this begs the question.
“Suppose the rule is: a
carriage moves if the one in front of it is moving. Then motion is explained
locally in every case. No first mover is needed.”
In this model, no carriage
moves itself, and yet the whole train is in motion. Every motion is
explained by a prior motion, and no global cause is required. The theist
may insist that we still need a cause for "why motion exists at all,"
but Fox responds that this is already answered: motion exists because each
carriage is moved by the one in front. There is no logical necessity for
motion to "originate" in a first cause.
Moreover, there's no reason to
privilege a world where all carriages are stationary as the “default”
over a world where all are moving. The idea that motion is
"unnatural" or "requires a special explanation" rests on a metaphysical
assumption that is itself questionable.
This analogy mirrors the
broader metaphysical worry: the Thomistic commitment to a first cause
assumes that infinite series are impossible, but that assumption requires
independent justification. Otherwise, the argument simply begs the question.
6. Conclusion: The Double
Bind in Thomistic Metaphysics
What emerges from this
analysis is a deep and unresolved tension within the Thomistic metaphysical
framework. On the one hand, the argument from composition aims to show that all
composite beings require a sustaining cause—namely, God. But this argument:
- Depends on the denial
of internal material simples,
- Requires a
base level of composition for God's act to begin,
- Assumes
the impossibility of infinite regress, and
- Equivocates
between different meanings of “sustaining.”
If material simples exist,
then the regress of composition terminates naturally, and God's sustaining act
becomes unnecessary. If material simples do not exist, then there is no base
for God’s act to be transitive through, and divine causation becomes metaphysically
impotent.
Furthermore, if mereological
gunk is possible—as many philosophers argue—then no fundamental parts exist
at all. In that case, the very structure of the Thomistic argument loses its
footing, and the regress need not be terminated.
Finally, attempts to rule out
infinite regress by analogy or intuition (e.g., with the train) fail unless
they can demonstrate an internal contradiction in the concept of an
infinite causal series. Until such a demonstration is made, the possibility of
an infinite, non-terminating causal series must remain on the table.
A Critical Misstep in
Feser's Interpretation of Aquinas’s First Way
In Aquinas: A Beginner’s
Guide (a worthwhile book overall), Edward Feser presents the traditional
Thomistic argument from motion. However, on page 78, he makes a subtle yet
significant error in the course of explaining how the argument unfolds:
“Consider how the series we
have been describing would have to continue beyond the point at which we left
it, with the hand’s potentiality for motion actualized by the arm, the arm’s
potentiality for motion actualized by the flexing of certain muscles, the
muscles’ potentiality for flexing actualized by the firing of certain motor
neurons, and so on and so forth, all simultaneously. All of this depends in
turn on the overall state of the nervous system, which depends on its molecular
structure, which depends on the atomic basis of that molecular structure, which
depends on electromagnetism, gravitation, the weak and strong forces, and so on
and so forth, all simultaneously, all here and now...”
At first, Feser is indeed
describing a series of essentially ordered causes, where potentialities
are actualized by actualities—this is consistent with Aquinas’s concept of
motion. However, as the passage continues, he subtly shifts away from the
language of motion and act-potency reduction, and into the realm of material
composition. This is a category shift with serious implications.
What Feser ends up tracing is
no longer a series of movers and things moved, but a chain of material
causes: the nervous system depends on molecules, which depend on atoms,
which in turn depend on physical forces. Each step down this chain does not
explain how one actuality actualizes a potential in another; rather, it
explains what something is made of, and therefore what potentialities it
has. That is, the movement in Feser's description begins to trace not a
vertical chain of efficient causation, but a descending chain of ontological
constitution—a shift from actualization to composition.
If such a material chain were
continued in search of a terminus, and if infinite regress is deemed impossible
here, the logical conclusion would not be pure act but rather prime matter—the
very opposite: pure potentiality, entirely devoid of actuality. This is the
reverse of Aquinas’s intended metaphysical trajectory. Aquinas’s First Way
culminates in something that is pure act, not pure potency.
This confusion is compounded
by another issue: at each level of material composition, one could argue that formal
causes play a role in actualizing the potential of the material components.
But formal causes are by definition immaterial and are not explained by
further material causes. Thus, even if one wanted to restore the act-potency
structure here, it would be through the invocation of form, not through
a deeper dive into matter.
Taken together, this misstep
illustrates two major and arguably fatal difficulties with the argument from
motion:
1. The Conceptual
Complexity of Aristotelian Metaphysics
Aristotelian-Thomistic
metaphysics is conceptually distant from contemporary intuitions. If
someone as informed and committed as Feser can confuse material and
efficient causation, then one might reasonably question whether this system
can function persuasively in public discourse. If even experts conflate
fundamental distinctions, how can one expect these arguments to convince lay
readers who have only just been introduced to the concepts of potency,
actuality, and formal cause?
2. The Incompatibility
with Modern Physics
The second flaw is more
empirical: in the context of modern physics, it is extremely difficult to
identify true chains of simultaneous causation—a key feature of Aquinas’s
First Way. Feser attempts to identify such a chain by pointing to the neurons,
muscles, and limbs involved in moving a hand. But when one investigates the
underlying biology and physics, the supposed simultaneity breaks down.
There is always a time
delay between events in physical systems: neurons fire after receiving
signals, muscles contract after being stimulated, and so on. In fact, due to relativistic
constraints, no causal influence can travel faster than the speed of light.
Therefore, true simultaneity between cause and effect across any distance is
physically impossible, undermining the Thomistic requirement for a per se
(essential) causal series in the natural world.
It is likely for this reason
that Feser finds himself sliding into a chain of material dependence
rather than staying within a strictly causal sequence of act and potency.
Material composition at least seems to preserve some kind of synchronic
structure—molecules do simultaneously constitute nervous systems in a way that
is not obviously sequential. But this is precisely the wrong explanatory
framework for the First Way.
The Historical Context
and the Problem of Relevance
Historically, Aquinas
developed the concept of the unmoved mover in part to explain the eternal
circular motion of the heavens—a framework rooted in Aristotelian
cosmology. But modern physics has rendered that particular explanatory role obsolete.
We now understand planetary motion through inertial mechanics and gravitational
fields, not as something requiring continuous actualization by an unmoved
mover.
This raises a critical
question: What is the paradigmatic case of motion today that demands a
sustaining cause in the Aristotelian sense? Without a clear answer, the First
Way loses much of its intuitive and evidential force. If neither the
metaphysical framework nor the empirical grounding holds up, one must seriously
question the validity of the argument in its contemporary form.
Conclusion
Feser’s explanation of the
First Way, while initially faithful to Thomistic principles, unintentionally
reveals key weaknesses in the argument itself. By conflating chains of motion
with chains of material composition, he underscores how difficult it is
to keep the metaphysical categories clear. At the same time, his reliance on biological
and physical processes as examples of per se causal chains appears
incompatible with modern scientific knowledge, which recognizes temporal and
spatial limitations on causation.
Ultimately, the argument from
motion faces two converging pressures: its philosophical complexity
makes it inaccessible and error-prone, while its empirical assumptions
no longer align with our best understanding of the physical world. If even its
defenders must modify or misapply its structure to make it appear plausible,
the argument may no longer be capable of fulfilling the explanatory role it
once claimed.
Short version of the Critique
of the Aristotelian Proof of God from Motion
The Aristotelian proof of God
from motion, as articulated by Thomas Aquinas in his "First Way" and
defended by Edward Feser in The Last Superstition, posits that an
unmoved mover is necessary to explain motion in the universe. This critique
argues that the proof fails, even when granting certain Aristotelian premises,
due to logical and empirical shortcomings. Below, I analyze the proof’s
structure, highlight key objections, and address Feser’s reformulation as a
composition argument.
1. Overview of the Proof
Aquinas’ First Way, as
summarized by Feser, asserts that motion (the transition from potentiality to
actuality) requires a cause. Feser illustrates this with a hierarchical causal
series: a stone moves because a stick pushes it, the stick is moved by a hand,
and so forth, culminating in a "first mover" free of potentiality—a
Pure Act, identified as God (Feser, The Last Superstition, p. 91–95).
Aquinas argues that an infinite regress of movers is impossible, as subsequent
movers depend on a first mover: “This cannot go on to infinity, because then
there would be no first mover, and, consequently, no other mover” (Aquinas, Summa
Theologica).
2. Critique of the
Unmoved Mover
The proof assumes that a first
mover must be not only unmoved but unmovable in all respects, equating it with
God. However, this
inference is flawed:
- Mundane Primary Movers: Scott Macdonald argues that the proof only
requires a primary mover to be in actuality with respect to the specific
motion (e.g., a fire or human initiating motion). It does not necessitate
a single, unmovable mover in all respects. Mundane primary movers, such as
natural entities (fire, animals), suffice to explain motion without
requiring a transcendent God (Macdonald, “Aquinas’s Parasitic Cosmological
Argument”).
- Accidentally Ordered Series: Aristotle himself acknowledges accidentally
ordered series, where causes do not coexist simultaneously (e.g., a father
begetting a son). Such series allow motion to propagate without a first
mover, as seen in Aristotle’s example of motion in water or air continuing
after the initial cause ceases (On Divination in Sleep, 464a1).
This undermines the necessity of a hierarchical, simultaneous causal
chain.
- Self-Motion and Natural Motion: Aristotle’s rejection of self-motion is
problematic. Anthony Kenny identifies two fallacies in Aristotle’s
argument against self-movers: it equivocates between logical and causal
dependence and between necessary and sufficient conditions (A New
History of Western Philosophy). Self-motion, such as a mind initiating
bodily movement, is plausible and aligns with modern concepts like phase
changes (e.g., seeing to not-seeing) that do not require external
causation (Blair, “Another Look at St. Thomas’ First Way”).
- Modern Physics:
Contemporary physics further undermines the proof. Sean Carroll notes that
conservation of momentum eliminates the need for continuous causation:
“The universe doesn’t need a mover; constant motion is natural and
expected” (The Big Picture). Einstein’s theory of gravity as
spacetime curvature suggests that large masses move smaller ones without
requiring a transcendent mover (Kaku, The God Equation).
3. Feser’s Composition
Argument
To salvage the proof, Feser
reformulates it as a composition argument, asserting that composite substances
require a cause to unify their parts. However, this reformulation fails:
- Holistic Substances:
Aristotelian holism posits that substances (e.g., a leopard or water
droplet) are ontologically prior to their parts, which exist only
potentially until divided (Bechler, Aristotle’s Theory of Actuality).
Parts do not causally actualize the whole, as Feser claims, because “the
parts Feser adduces cannot causally actualize the existence of the
substances they compose” (Schmid, “Existential Inertia and the
Aristotelian Proof”). A water droplet, for instance, is a unified whole,
not an aggregate of actual parts.
- Existential Inertia:
Substances naturally persist without requiring a sustaining cause unless
acted upon by a destructive force. Graham Oppy argues that a substance’s
existence at a given moment is explained by its prior existence and the
absence of interference (On Stage One of Feser’s Aristotelian Proof).
This
eliminates the need for a divine sustainer.
- Infinite Regress:
An infinite series of essentially ordered causes is conceivable without
deriving causal power from nothingness. In such a series, each cause
derives efficacy from its antecedent, forming a triadic structure
(quasi-first cause, intermediate cause, last effect) that does not require
a singular first cause (Oberle, “Grounding, Infinite Regress, and the
Thomistic Cosmological Argument”). Feser’s analogies (e.g., an infinite
train) fail to demonstrate the impossibility of such series, as they rely
on question-begging assumptions about the need for a “first engine.”
4. Alternative
Ontological Frameworks
Modern naturalistic frameworks
offer viable alternatives to Thomistic hylomorphism:
- Naturalistic Hylomorphism: Fundamental particles, such as those described
by Brian Greene, may exhibit a duality of form (electromagnetic fields)
and matter (rest mass) without requiring divine intervention (The
Elegant Universe). Fields, as forms of energy, can account for motion
and consciousness, aligning with naturalistic panpsychism or dualism
(Jones, “Electromagnetic-Field Theories of Mind”).
- Quantum Monism:
The universe may consist of a single substance—“quantumstuff”—combining
particle and wave properties (Herbert, Quantum Reality). This
monistic view negates the need for a transcendent cause, as motion and
existence arise from intrinsic properties.
- Leibnizian Force:
Leibniz’s concept of vis activa—an active force between potency and
act—offers a naturalistic explanation for motion without invoking a divine
mover (Liske, “Nach Verwirklichung strebende Aktivkräfte”).
5. Broader Implications
The Thomistic view assumes a
binary of complete dependence or independence, ignoring semi-independent
entities or quantum-level causation. Feser’s leap from an immanent first cause
to a transcendent God is unsupported: “The jump from a first immanent cause to
a first transcendent cause appears to be one of the most questionable moves in
the Thomistic program” (Martin, “Infinite Causal Regress and the Secunda Via”).
Furthermore, if God creates ex nihilo, potentiality may not exist, as creation
yields only actuality (Schmid, “Stage One of the Aristotelian Proof”). This
undermines the proof’s reliance on potentiality-to-actuality transitions.
Conclusion
The Aristotelian proof of God
from motion fails to establish a necessary, unmovable first mover. Mundane
primary movers, self-motion, and modern physics provide sufficient explanations
for motion without requiring a transcendent cause. Feser’s composition argument
is undermined by holistic substances, existential inertia, and the possibility
of infinite causal series. Naturalistic frameworks, such as quantum monism and
field theories, offer robust alternatives that render the Thomistic proof
unconvincing. The proof’s reliance on outdated metaphysical assumptions and its
inability to address contemporary scientific insights highlight its limitations
in demonstrating the existence of God.
