Most contemporary philosophers do not consider panpsychism to be a plausible position, though it is safe to say that the failure of strong phy-sicalism and the growing adoption of property/event dualism will most likely restore panpsychism as a viewpoint to be taken seriously. Indeed, there is some evidence that this is already taking place, even among tough-minded analytic philosophers.1
However, irrespective of its current popularity, the longevity and perennial endurance of panpsychism reflect the genuineness of a serious metaphysical problem for which there are a limited number of solutions. The problem, of course, is the appearance of mind, sentience, inner psychic reality, consciousness in the history of the cosmos. The plausible explanatory options seem to be these: 1 2 3 4 5
What exactly is panpsychism? It is possible to give it a topic neutral definition such that it is consistent with every option in philosophy of mind, including strong physicalism.2 But this is not how the viewpoint has been characterized since the Pre-Socratics and it is not a definition that is of interest to me. Therefore, I will follow historical precedent and current usage by its advocates and characterize panpsychism along dualist lines. So understood, there are a handful of definitions in the literature: All objects in the universe have an inner or psychological nature. Physical reality is composed of individuals each of which is to some degree sentient. Mind is a fundamental feature of the world that exists throughout the universe. Everything is conscious. Everything has a mind. Clearly, these definitions are different, yet they overlap and revolve around a core that is admittedly hard to specify if one is trying to speak for all panpsychists.
For present purposes, I shall follow David Skrbina’s characterization: All things have a mind or a mind-like quality. Skrbina unpacks this definition by describing three essential characteristics of panpsychism:3 (1) Objects have experiences for themselves; that is, the mind-like quality is something internal to or inherent in the object. (2) This experience is singular and unified. (3) Any configuration or system of mass/energy counts as such an object. Thus, says Skrbina, panpsychism may also be understood as the claim that ‘‘All objects, or systems of objects, possess a singular inner experience of the world around them.’’4
One may distinguish two forms of panpsychism. According to the strong version, all objects or systems of objects possess an actualized singular inner experience of the world around them. According to the weak form, all objects or systems of objects possess a singular inner experience of the world around them in a degraded, attenuated way in the form of ‘‘protomental states,’’ i.e. in the form of real mental dispositions/potentialities that, under the right circumstances, become actualized.
Historically, panpsychism has been seen as a rival to naturalistic materialism. However, its relationship with theism is less clear. Clearly, construed as an overarching worldview, panpsychism is a rival to traditional monotheism, but advocates of process theology and panentheism on the one hand and Mormonism on the other hand clearly embraces a form of panpsychism.5
In the remainder of the chapter, I shall do three things: present an exposition of the most important contemporary defense of panpsychism— David Skrbina’s; criticize panpsychism on its own merits and argue that it is inferior to theism and AC; argue that is it a rival to and not an appropriate specification of naturalism. To achieve my dialectical aims, I am going to present a mostly negative critique of his view. This should not be taken as an indication of my assessment of his work. There is much in Panpsychism in the West with which I agree and I have learned much from Skrbina. Indeed, I believe his view (and even more so, Philip Clayton’s) is preferable to strong naturalism.
116 David Skrbina and panpsychism The panpsychism of David Skrbina
Precis of Skrbina’s view
In my opinion, David Skrbina’s Panpsychism in the West is the most authoritative account and defense of panpsychism in several years. I have already presented Skrbina’s characterization of panpsychism.6 According to Skrbina, two things follow from panpsychism so conceived. First, there are degrees of consciousness (“proto-mentality,” ‘‘low-grade awareness,’) and weak panpsychism (all things have at least psychic potentiality, latent consciousness, universal inert mental potentiality) is a legitimate form of panpsychism.7 Second, panpsychism implies a world-soul (the cosmos as a whole has a mind or at least a mind-like quality all its own) and is consistent with the emergence of a finite god, e.g. as construed in panentheism.8
Eleven arguments for panpsychism
Skrbina presents eleven arguments for panpsychism.9 Here they are in his
own words:
(1) Argument by Indwelling Powers—All objects exhibit certain powers or abilities that can plausibly be linked to noetic qualities.
(2) Argument by Continuity—A common principle or substance exists in all things; in humans, it accounts for our soul or mind, and thus by extrapolation it infers mind in all things. Also expressed as a rejection of the problem of ‘‘drawing a line’’ somewhere, non-arbitrarily, between enminded and supposedly mindless objects.
(3) Argument from First Principles—mind is posited as a fundamental and universal quality, present individually in all things; this is a kind of ‘‘panpsychism by definition.''
(4) Argument by Design—The ordered, complex, and/or persistent nature of physical things suggests the presence of an inherent mentality.
(5) Argument from Non-Emergence—It is inconceivable that mind should emerge from a world in which no mind existed; therefore mind always existed, in even the simplest of structures. Also expressed as ‘‘nothing in the effect that is not in the cause.'' Sometimes called the ‘‘genetic'' argument.
(6) Theological Argument—God is mind and spirit, and God is omnipresent, therefore mind and spirit are present in all things. Or, all things participate in God and thus have a share in spirit.
(7) Evolutionary Argument—A particular combination of Continuity and Non-Emergence arguments. Claims that certain objects (e.g. plants, the Earth) share a common dynamic or physiological structure with human beings, and thus possess a mind; and, points to the continuity of composition between organic and inorganic substances (i.e. anti-vitalism).
(8) Argument from Dynamic Sensitivity—The ability of living systems to feel and to experience derives from their dynamic sensitivity to their environment; this holds true for humans and, empirically, down to the simplest one-celled creatures. By extension, we know that all physical systems are dynamic and interactive, and therefore all, to a corresponding degree, may be said to experience and feel. Additionally, other aspects of dynamical systems theory supports the panpsy-chist view (a combination of the Indwelling powers, Continuity, and Non-Emergence arguments.)
(9) Argument from Authority—Not a formal argument, but a potentially convincing claim nonetheless. Writers as diverse as Bruno, Clifford, Paulsen, and Hartshorne have cited the large number of major intellectuals who expressed intuitive or rational belief in some form of panpsychism. And in fact the whole of the present work [Skrbina’s] makes this claim.
(10) Panpsychism ‘‘truly naturalizes mind,’’ because it deeply integrates mind into the natural order of the world. Furthermore, it does so in a way that no other theory does. Though this basic feeling has been expressed by others, it has not been presented as a core argument. I [Skrbina] will designate this as the Naturalized Mind Argument.
(11) In light of ‘‘the ‘terminal’ failure of the approaches built on the Cartesian intuition about matter,’’ panpsychism stands as the most viable alternative. This is an important point, and one that has been neglected in the past. If intensive critical inquiry of dualism and materialism over the past, say, few hundred years has failed to produce a consensus theory of mind, then it stands to reason that a third alternative like panpsychism, in some positive formulation should gain in viability. This ‘‘negative argument’’ for panpsychism may be called, for want of a better name, the Last Man Standing Argument.
Skrbina develops some of these arguments a bit more, but when he does, it usually involves illustrating them and not providing additional considerations besides those above. Though brief, this description of the eleven arguments is an adequate presentation of Skrbina’s case for panpsychism.
It seems clear that some of these arguments are better than others and I shall shortly look at each one, albeit somewhat briefly in certain cases. For now, I want to offer one overarching observation about the arguments. It may well be that some of them exhibit varying degrees of success against strong naturalism. Indeed, argument (5) from Non-Emergence has been a major component of my own critique of naturalist explanations of consciousness and my defense of AC. So let us grant for the sake of argument that some of Skrbina’s arguments are successful against naturalism. The same does not hold for classical theism and, sadly, Skrbina’s book almost exclusively advocates panpsychism vis-a-vis naturalism and not theism.
As a theist, there are important points in Skrbina’s book with which I agree. But given the success of those arguments against naturalism, panpsychism follows only if classic theism is also ruled out and Skrbina fails to carry out such a project. Thus, it seems to me that some of his arguments provide equal justification for panpsychism and classic theism, and others relative to classic theism and others support classic theism better than they do panpsychism. Moreover, it is highly likely that the case for classic theism is quite superior to that of panpsychism on grounds independent of these eleven arguments. If that is correct, then the evidence for panpsychism relative to classic theism from these eleven arguments must be high indeed, if the former is to enjoy greater overall epistemic status than the latter. Therefore, the dialectical situation seems to be this: When the total epistemic impact of these arguments is considered, they support classic theism better than panpsychism. Moreover, when additional factors are considered, classic theism is better justified than panpsychism in light of those factors. Thus, classic theism is to be preferred to panpsychism. Moreover, panpsychist arguments provide additional evidence against naturalism and, thus, for classic theism.
Setting strong naturalism aside, let us consider the arguments in light of panpsychism vs. classic theism in this order: those I take to be equally supportive of the two views or slightly more supportive of classic theism, those that are, in my view, simply unconvincing arguments, and those that clearly support classic theism.
Arguments on a parity with or slightly in favor of classic theism
It seems to me that (1), (2a) ((2) has two parts), (3) (on one interpretation), (7c) ((7) has three parts) and (10) are equally supportive of both views (10 may be slightly more favorable to panpsychism.) As formulated above, (1) is no better than a wash for panpsychism relative to classic theism because the claim that certain powers and abilities of all objects ‘‘can plausibly be linked to noetic qualities’’ can easily be interpreted to imply a creative, designing Mind behind such objects at least as plausibly as implying noetic qualities within the objects themselves. Elsewhere, Skrbina unpacks ‘‘linked’’ as follows:10 objects have the power of motion, they exhibit forces of attraction, repulsion and so forth, and there is a rational order to all things. While these may provide material content for ‘‘linked,’’ unfortunately, they actually provide grounds for thinking that the best explanation for ‘‘linked’’ is classic theism and not panpsychism (setting aside other worldviews). I believe this will become evident below when I discuss (4). For now, I make two observations.
First, more scientists have followed Newton than Skrbina in the sense that Newton saw the rational order of things and gravity as grounded in the mind and constant will of a transcendent God, respectively. Recall that Newton distinguished offering a mathematical description of gravity from offering an ontological analysis of what it is. Clearly, the theistic option is at least as, if not more attractive here. Second, when inert corpuscularian-ism was replaced by dynamic corpuscularianism, forces were located in objects themselves.11 But for two reasons, this move did not provide justification for panpsychism. For one thing, many thinkers continued to hold that the forces themselves were actually the result of the constant exercise of power by God, and this view ‘‘saved the appearances’’ as well as alternative ontological analyses of the forces. For another, granting that forces are actually in particular things, is it easy to interpret them as passive liabilities created by God and bequeathed to various powerful particulars.
What about (2a)? Argument (2) has two components. (a) A common principle or substance exists in all things and it accounts for soul or mind in humans. (b) If we extrapolate to other sorts of things, then clearly some organisms have mind, and if that is granted, it becomes impossible to draw a non-arbitrary line between enminded and supposedly mindless objects. I shall focus on (2b) below. Regarding (2a), it seems clear that a theistic explanation employing AC is at least as plausible as a panpsychist one. A theist will reject the claim that a common principle or substance exists in all things and defend the notion that a common creator/designer exists behind all (finite contingent) things. Both worldviews provide an explanation of consciousness in humans (and certain other entities). Further, I will argue against (2b) below. If I am successful, then AC is superior to panpsychism because the latter fails to employ (2) as adequate grounds for the ubiquity of mind.
(3) is capable of two interpretations. First, one may construe the First Principles argument as the brute posit of panpsychism for which there is nothing more basic that could support it. In this sense, one reasons from panpsychism but not for it. Panpsychism is, as Skrbina puts it, a definitional truth. So understood, this is a very weak ‘‘argument.’’ It is clearly up to one simply to take panpsychism as a mere analytic truth that has nothing to do with reality. In addition, I see no reason why a theist cannot be equally justified in positing the existence of God. While I am not among them, there is a branch of Christian scholarship that adopts what is called ‘‘presuppositionalism,’’ viz., the existence of God is taken as a fundamental presupposition from which all further argument derive, though they do not take ‘‘God exists’’ as a mere analytic truth. Alternatively, (3) may be construed as the claim that panpsychism is a ‘‘basic’’ posit justified by other factors, e.g. the intuitive awareness of mind in all things, and its explanatory power. So understood, I shall postpone discussion of (3) until later.
(7) contains three parts. (a) is the claim that humans (and other higher animals) clearly have consciousness, and consciousness cannot emerge from dead, naturalistically described matter by way of mechanical processes. (b) It is impossible to draw a line between enminded and allegedly mindless entities, so there must be mind in all things. (c) Moreover, the continuity of composition of all things (e.g. all things have ‘‘chemical affinity’’) best explains the presence of consciousness in humans, viz., it is to some degree in everything (e.g. ‘‘affinity’’ is equivalent to some sort of feeling.) I shall look at (a) and (b) below when I examine (5) and (2b), respectively. That leaves (c). I have already provided a theistic response to (c) in my discussion of (1). One need not construe “affinity’’ as feeling, or treat other “continuous compositional features’ in mental terms. For example, one can treat forces such as ‘‘affinity'' in anti-realist terms or one can unpack them as purely physical passive liabilities such that ‘‘affinity’’ is purely a metaphorical anthropomorphic expression. Thus, there is no clear way to take (7c) as supporting panpsychism over classic theism.
This brings us to (10). Prima facie, (10) is unclear in its claim that panpsychism ‘‘truly naturalizes mind,'' that it ‘‘deeply integrates mind'' into the natural order of the world. However, based on Skrbina’s discussion of (10) in places other than his summary of the eleven arguments as stated above, it is plausible to understand it as follows: Panpsychism avoids a supernatural explanation of consciousness by showing that if construed along panpsychist lines, the ‘‘natural'' world has latent within it all the resources needed to ground the existence of consciousness in humans and higher animals.12 It may be that (10) provides some evidence for panpsychism over classic theism. Since I am at pains to show that 1) the combined weight of all eleven arguments supports theism over panpsychism, or 2) setting consciousness aside, the prior probability of theism over panpsychism is sufficiently large to justify the claim that the former is to be preferred to the latter even if the evidence from these eleven arguments is a draw or slightly in favor of panpsychism, this admission does not amount to much. If the first claim is correct, then the support of (1) is offset by the evidence for theism from the other arguments taken together. If this second claim is correct, then given that panpsychism is not a legitimate form of strong naturalism, it follows that consciousness provides evidence for theism and panpsychism over against naturalism, and the choice between these non-naturalist alternatives must be made on other grounds.
That said, I make two additional points about (10). First, a good bit of the sociological, if not intellectual preference for a ‘‘natural'' over a supernatural explanation for some phenomenon derives from the widespread acceptance of strong naturalism. Granting merely for the sake of argument that if we limit the rivals to strong naturalism and classic theism, then some argue that there is always a burden of proof on a supernatural explanation. But it does not follow from this that the same burden obtains if our rivals are panpsychism and classic theism. It is far from clear that most thinkers would rightly prefer to explain various features of the cosmos (its origin in light of a finite past; its contingency, the presence of beauty, order, information, specified complexity, religious experience, objective morality, alleged miracles), including human consciousness considered alone, in light of panpsychism, and not classic theism.
This leads to my second point. I am among those who believe that theism is better justified than strong naturalism or panpsychism and, given theism, that there is sufficient evidence to justify New Testament miracles, including the resurrection of Jesus, and additional miracles done in the name of Jesus throughout church history. Clearly, space considerations and the limited scope of our inquiry prevent me from developing arguments for these claims.13 The disadvantage of a supernatural vs. a panpsychic explanation for human consciousness must be defended in light of the overall evidence for theism vs. panpsychism, including the evidence for miracles.
I turn to those arguments I take to be of no value in supporting panpsychism: (2b) and (7b) taken together, (6), (8), and (11).
(2b) (which is also employed as (7b)) argues for the ubiquity of mind because it is impossible to ‘‘‘[draw] a line’ somewhere, non-arbitrarily, between enminded and supposedly mindless objects.’’ There are at least two reasons why this argument fails. First, it is an example of a sorites-style argument, and it is widely accepted that these sorts of arguments do not work.14 Though the refutation of sorites-style arguments may not require the adoption of Chisholmian particularism, the latter provides the resources for generating counter-examples to sorites-style arguments. According to Chisholmian particularism, one can know paradigm cases of some item in dispute without having to know how one knows them or without having to provide a criterion for such knowledge as a necessary condition for having it.
Chisholm formulated his version of particularism in light of general issues between the cognitivist and skeptic. His particularism was not limited to providing a solution to sorites cases though it does have application to them. To see this, consider any range of phenomena that is degreed in the relevant way: degreed transitions from having hair to being bald, from being orange to being red, and other alleged cases of ontological vagueness. Let us grant that it is impossible to draw a line at the exact place where, say, in the transition from orange to red objects a shade first appears that is more red than orange. It does not follow from this that it is not the case that some objects are red and not orange and some are orange and not red, nor does it follow that one cannot recognize paradigm cases of red and orange objects. The same may be said for ‘‘enminded’’ and mindless objects.
Second, a favored strategy for treating alleged cases of ontological vagueness is to reduce them to epistemic vagueness. This strategy gains force when we are dealing with mental properties as intrinsically characterized attributes of which one is directly aware from the first-person perspective.
And that is what I am granting in this book. So construed, mental properties are as the dualist claims. Now it is a typical aspect of property (or substance) dualism to unpack knowledge of one’s own mind and other minds by starting with the first-person case and moving to the third-person. Whether or not this approach is further analyzed in Plantingian externalist terms, treated as an inference to the best explanation, an argument by analogy, or in some related way, the first-to-third-person approach implies that while something either is or is not conscious, one is increasingly less justified in ascribing consciousness to another entity as it becomes less analogous in behavior, composition, etc. to one’s own case. Now this is precisely what is claimed in (2b) (and (7b)). Given that epis-temic vagueness is all one needs to account for problems of “drawing a line,’’ there is no justification for following Skrbina and ontologizing the situation. Moreover, the epistemic approach avoids the panpsychist mess of trying to clarify the notion of ‘‘proto-mentality’’ or ‘‘attenuated awareness’’ construed as actual and not merely dispositional states.
(6) involves a very serious misunderstanding of the classic theistic view of omnipresence. There are two different understandings of omnipresence. Some reduce it to causality and knowledge, viz., to say that God is omnipresent is to say that he has immediate awareness of and causal access to all spatial locations. Thus, God is not literally spatially in each such location. Alternatively, to say that God is omnipresent is to say that he is ‘‘fully present’’ everywhere in space. ‘‘Fully present’’ can be understood spatially in which case God is conceived as being entirely present in all places at once and, thus, God does not conform to the so-called axiom of localization: No entity whatsoever can exist at different spatial locations at once or at interrupted time intervals.
‘‘Fully present’’ may also be understood in a primitive non-spatial sense of ‘‘being in’’ such that God is non-spatially in each spatial location. An analogy may be of help here. Let us adopt a constituent ontology along with a view of universals as abstract objects. Let us also grant ‘‘the victory of particularity,’’ viz., when a universal is instantiated by a particular, the resulting state of affairs—the-particular’s-having-the-universal—is itself particular. Under these assumptions above, the universal is literally in the being of its instances in a primitive non-spatial sense. This primitive is not identical to but merely provides an analogy for ‘‘being in’’ construed as a non-spatial primitive in the case of divine omnipresence.
Now what notion of omnipresence is affirmed by (6)? Clearly, it is not a classic theistic form. To avoid equivocation, (6) must equate ‘‘omnipresent’’ with the panpsychist notion of ‘‘being present in all things.’’ Elsewhere, Skrbina provides an example of the employment of (6) by the philosopher Fechner who affirms that in traditional theology God is everywhere and if one concedes such divine omnipresence, one has already conceded ‘‘the universal animation of the world by God.’’15 I take this to be what it means for ‘‘all things to participate in God and thus have a share in spirit.’’
Earlier, Skrbina asserts that all things have their own minds; each particle of matter has its own individual intelligence and, thus, all such particles have experiences for themselves.16 Perhaps this entails that God is a sort of scattered object such that each particle of matter has its own ‘‘chip off the Old Block.’’ Perhaps this is to be construed as emergent theism according to which God emerges as a new individual when particles of spirit/matter reach a certain level of complexity. Some panpsychists do, in fact, opt for this view. Perhaps it is a form of polytheism according to which each particle of matter has its own divine mind and the universe as a whole has its own World-Soul. This may be what Mormonism teaches because it is arguably a version of polytheistic panpsychism.17
However, one thing is clear: The panpsychist and classic theist ontology of omnipresence are very different. At the very least, (6) seems to imply that one can move from the former to the latter, but so far as I can discover, no argument is given for this claim. Moreover, (6) seems in some sense to equate the two versions of omnipresence, and that is simply false.
Argument (8) fails for at least two reasons that result from problems with ‘‘derives from’ and “dynamic sensitivity.” First, the claim that “the ability of living systems to feel and to experience derives from their dynamic sensitivity to their environment'' is terribly ambiguous. The problem lies in ‘‘derives from'' which seems capable of three interpretations. It may mean, ‘‘is ontologically grounded in and supervenient upon'' in which case (8) asserts that the existence of feeling/experience in living systems and by extension, all physical systems, obtains in virtue of their dynamic sensitivity (causal interaction with their environment). But this interpretation is more consistent with emergent physicalism than with panpsychism since the latter takes the presence of mind/feeling/experience to be basic, indeed, just as basic as matter.
Alternatively, it may mean, ‘‘is epistemically justified on the basis of’’ in which case (8) asserts that our epistemic justification for attributing mentality to systems is their dynamic sensitivity. Elsewhere, Skrbina cites approvingly precisely this argument offered by C. S. Peirce. Peirce claimed that the dynamic sensitivity of protoplasm cannot be accounted for by mechanistic laws and, thus, we are forced to admit that physical events are but degraded or undeveloped forms of psychic events.181 will consider the epistemic grounds for this claim below.
That leaves us with interpretation three: ‘‘derives from’’ is to be understood as ‘‘is caused by’’ according to which there is a sort of causal interaction between physical inputs into a system and mental states caused by those inputs. Earlier, Skrbina seems to affirm some form of modal necessity in this interaction: ‘‘The dynamic sensitivity of protoplasm necessarily results in an enhanced capability for feeling.’’19 Unfortunately, the causal interaction between mental and physical events (which is arguably contingent and not even physically necessary much less de re metaphysically necessary) neither explains why there is an interacting mental entity there in the first place nor does it alone justify claiming that it is there.
The second problem with (8) involves difficulties in clarifying dynamic sensitivity in a way needed for the argument to go through and in the exaggerated claims made about dynamic sensitivity. Let us construe “dynamic sensitivity’’ minimally as various sorts of efficient causal interactions—by contact, by forces—between one paradigm case physical particular and another. I think there is a point to (8) if its target is a version of strong physicalism that adopts a functionalist approach to mental kinds with only physical realizers and that provides efficient causal reductions of both intentionality and teleological behavior. In this case, the well-known problem of ascribing a mental life to a thermometer arises and does, I think, generalize. The problem is quite simply that efficient causal law-like relations obtain across the board and it is easy to adopt an intentional stance towards or to employ functional language for practically every physical particular in its environment.
However, if the rival is theistic dualism with irreducible intentionality, agent causation and genuinely purposive teleological behavior, then (8) fails. Why? Because on this view, there is a clear difference between full-blown mental subjects and purely physical objects, and this difference is adequate to bring in a dualist first-person argument for ascribing mental states to increasingly different subjects. To see this difference, consider Skrbina’s discussion of (8) as employed by Whitehead.20 According to Whitehead, there are ‘‘structured societies’’ which have dominant and sub-ordinate subsocieties. In such cases, the overall structure provides a protected environment that guards and sustains the sub-societies. As examples, Whitehead cites molecules, crystals, rocks, and the solar system as structured societies. The ‘‘dynamic sensitivity’’ of such structured societies consists at least in part in their developing such protective environments for the sake of guarding the sub-societies within them. All of this requires sentience.
As a theistic dualist, I must confess that it is hard to take this seriously. It is one thing for a group of people each with intentional concepts of danger, warfare, protection, building blueprints and so on, consciously, purposively, and with freely chosen cooperation to build a castle. It is quite another thing for a group of molecules under the right circumstances to form a crystal. Mechanistic explanations are fully adequate for the latter and quite inadequate for the former. I’m afraid it will take more than a few illustrations along with panpsychic assertions to convince me otherwise. And I suspect most others will be so inclined.
This leaves (11), the claim that a consensus has not been reached for hundreds of years because of serious problems with a Cartesian view of matter, and panpsychism gains viability by this failure. I have three things to say in response. First, if consensus is a necessary condition for ‘‘viability’’ in philosophy, we are all in trouble. Moreover, given the fact that panpsychist views have been around for at least twenty-five hundred years and throughout that period it has hardly been a consensus viewpoint, the viability test undermines panpsychism more than it does naturalism or classic theism.
Second, the main problem for dualism has been causal interaction, but in my view, this is the most exaggerated problem in the history of philosophy. Skrbina notwithstanding, traditional formulations of the problem have been adequately rebutted within both a Cartesian and non-Cartesian fra-mework,21 and more recent formulations of the problem (e.g. Kim’s causal-pairing objection) have also been adequately addressed.22 So Skrbina has misrepresented the actual dialectical situation.
Finally, given that panpsychism entails that all particulars have a physical and mental nature, and given that these natures are described in pretty standard terms that a naturalist and theistic dualist would recognize, panpsychism has the same problem of interaction that theistic dualists do. Panpsychism is merely a label for and not an explanation of the phenomena to be explained. As Geoffrey Madell notes, ‘‘the sense that the mental and the physical are just inexplicably and gratuitously slapped together is hardly allayed by adopting ... a pan-psychist ... view of the mind, for [it does not] have an explanation to offer as to why or how mental properties cohere with physical.’’23
So much for the arguments I consider inadequate. We are left with two arguments I think are clearly in favor of classic theism over against panpsychism: (4) and (9). Let us look at them in reverse order. (9) asserts that a large number of major intellectuals have taken panpsychism to be intuitive or rational and this provides potentially convincing grounds for the view. Now I do not believe Skrbina is employing a bare-bones appeal to authority in (9). In fact, there is some plausibility for (9) if his assertion is charitably interpreted. If a large number of respected craftsmen in some field find a certain view to be rational or intuitive, this does carry some weight though it is admittedly hard to assess precisely how much. After all, there does appear to be such a thing as tacit knowledge or something closely akin to it, and counting noses need not be a mere sociological exercise.
So let us grant this point to Skrbina. The problem is that throughout the history of western philosophy (and other fields as well) from the Pre-Socratics to the present, classic theism has been dominant, and compared to ‘‘the large number of major intellectuals’’ who have found theism to be ‘‘rational and intuitive’’ panpsychists are as rare as hen’s teeth. So if we employ (9) charitably understood, it supports classic theism.
That leaves us with (4)—a design argument according to which the ordered, complex, persistent nature of physical things suggests the presence of inherent mentality. It is not my purpose to defend the design argument tout court. Given that we are limiting our evaluation of (1)—( 11) to the support they provide for panpsychism and classic theism, since both sides use their own form of the design argument, we may assume its effectiveness. Here is the question: Do the various sorts of design we find in the cosmos provide more support for inherent mentality or an external designer as its cause? Let us look at two cases: simple law-like order and other examples.
We may cite as examples of the former any system or sequence of events that is governed by regular law, e.g. the relationship among pressure, volume, and temperature in a gas or the formation of a water molecule when oxygen and hydrogen are combined. It may be that such cases may equally be explained by the two paradigms. I have a reservation, however. If such law-like behavior is due to inherent mentality, then it is hard to see why the inherent minds of each particle would not have freewill and the power of spontaneous action such that law-like behavior would not be predicted. This is no theoretical problem. As I mentioned above, Mor-monism is a panpsychist view and certain Mormon thinkers such as Orsen Pratt tried to resolve this problem by simply asserting as a matter of brute fact that the plethora of minds just always choose to behave together in law-like ways.24 Perhaps the resources of quantum theory could help the panpsychist here (minds at the quantum level exercise freedom but only in a way that is within quantum probabilities). But in any case, this is my reservation about calling it a draw.
However, when it comes to other cases of data apt for inferring design, it is clear that classic theism is better justified than inherent mentality. I have in mind two sorts of cases. The first is beauty. The second is harder to classify but, historically, it included the existence of wholes composed of heterogenous parts that mutually interact for the sake of an end relevant to the whole. In recent days, the category has included the existence of information and/or the existence of specified or irreducible complexity (the combination of low probability and independent specifiability).25
In non-question-begging cases where we observe the origin of phenomena within this category, it is the result of an external designer and not inherent mentality. The various works of art, the origin of books, machines and a host of entities that exhibit beauty, information or specified/irreducible complexity clearly come from an external designer. Indeed, a host of sciences requires this assumption along with criteria for inferring external intelligent causes from non-intelligent ones: forensic science, SETI, archeology, sociology, linguistics, psychology. These sciences and the observable phenomena cited above provide solid grounds for inferring an external designer and not inherent mentality for the beauty in the cosmos and for the fine-tuning of the universe, the information in biological systems, and the plethora of irreducibly complex structures in the world. I conclude, then, that (4) supports classic theism more than it does panpsychism.
Accept a strong physicalist version of naturalism and reject irreducible, uneliminable consciousness. In this book, we are setting aside this option.
Accept emergent naturalism according to which at some point in cosmic history, matter reached a suitable state of complexity and consciousness appeared for the first time from materials, which were neither actually conscious nor contained irreducibly conscious potentialities. Consciousnesses just showed up all at one go ‘‘out of nothing,’’ that is, out of pure, brute matter exhaustively characterizable by physics and chemistry. Searle’s biological naturalism may be construed as a form of this option.
Accept some mysterian view and call it a version of naturalism. Colin McGinn’s view is the paradigm case of this position, and with certain qualifications, so is Philip Clayton’s (see chapter seven).
Accept some version of panpsychism. We will investigate this option below, but arguably, Timothy O’Connor’s view is a version of panpsychism. It is a further question as to whether this is a legitimate form of naturalism or a rival to it.
Accept a theistic explanation. This is the position for which I am arguing.