If there is purposive causality in the universe, it will obviously make an enormous difference to what happens. Events will not occur just by chance or accident, but the whole universe will be directed toward the existence of persons and the realization of personal values. Since the natural sciences normally set aside questions of value, they cannot as such establish whether the universe is directed toward the existence of specific values or not. But the findings of the natural sciences are certainly relevant to the question of whether there is direction or progress of any sort in the observed universe. It seems to me that it is a reasonable hypothesis that there is. If so, this helps to confirm the form of idealism I am defending, which could be called dual-aspect idealism, because it stresses the importance of the material aspect as a means of allowing the potentialities of mind to be expressed.
Many modern evolutionary theorists are so opposed to the notion of direction and purpose in cosmic history that they insist on stressing the totally fortuitous and random nature of biological evolution. This is rather odd, because they mostly also think that the basic laws of physics are not at all fortuitous and random. Indeed, many of them are physical determinists and think that at a physical level things must obey the laws of nature and could not be other than they actually are. This is the opposite of randomness!
There seem to be four main reasons for this resistance to directionality. First, there is too much waste and suffering in evolution for it to be planned. Second, many organisms like bacteria do not evolve, but stay happily as they are, so there does not seem to be a “universal striving” in evolution. Third, the evolution of humans depends on a number of freak accidents, like the meteor impact that may have destroyed the dinosaurs and other disasters that turned out well for humans but rather badly for every other form of life. And fourth, the mechanisms of Darwinian evolution, random mutation and natural selection, do not seem to allow for any sort of intelligent or purposive selection. Ideas of direction or purpose smack too much of “vitalism”, the exploded view that there is some sort of “life force” at work in addition to natural mechanisms in evolution.
This is precisely where basic philosophical beliefs influence what are supposed to be strictly scientific theories. I am not against such influence. On the contrary I am all for it. But in my opinion this is the wrong influence from a false philosophical theory – or at the very least, from a highly disputed one.
These arguments of evolutionary naturalism can be very easily dismissed. In response to the first argument, we can say that talk of waste and suffering is completely irrelevant to the question of whether there is direction in evolution. If there is a direction, it is from simplicity to complexity, from unconsciousness to consciousness, from lack of any appreciation of value to the understanding and appreciation of many moral, intellectual, and aesthetic values, and from chance and necessity to intelligent purpose. We can observe this progress in the evolution of human beings from unconscious and unintelligent stardust.
There is no reason why such a progress should be without blind alleys and eddies which do not lead in the requisite direction, as long as the process as a whole inevitably leads to the “higher” states. In fact, one rational structure for such progress is a system which generates a number of alternative possible tracks, where all possibilities are tried and only some lead to cumulative progressive tracks. That may lead to waste and suffering, but that does not make the structure less rational.
In response to the second argument, it is not at all necessary that every item in the structure should be seeking to mutate in a positive direction. Indeed, it is necessary that most items should not mutate, but should preserve their structure, to provide a solid base on which new mutations can be built. The structure must provide, therefore, for the repetition of dependable elements, with mutations that do not lead to great structural changes. But some, perhaps a small number, relatively speaking, of mutations must lead to structural changes – and that is what we see.
What about the third argument, stressing the role of genuine accident in the evolutionary process? Quantum physics is usually taken to undermine a wholly deterministic interpretation of the laws of nature. But of course it does not undermine the fact that there are laws of nature. What it suggests is that the laws will in general produce predictable results, but at the subatomic level we will have to work with probabilities where not all details are predictable – and sometimes this will result in larger scale unpredictabilities. In other words, there are elements of genuine randomness, but even they are governed by laws of probability, and most probabilities cancel out at higher levels to leave the inevitability of the general processes of nature intact. Only occasionally, and usually at times not directly observable by humans, will genuine alternatives at the macro level appear. But some of those occasions might have decisive and dramatic consequences.
It is also a generally accepted rule of quantum physics that physical phenomena are entangled, so that basic physical elements affect one another in non-local ways, and no phenomenon can be considered totally in isolation from other phenomena in the universe. This fact also places constraints on what possibilities are open within the system. As Michio Kaku says, “Einstein often asked himself whether God had any choice in creating the universe. According to superstring theorists, once we demand a unification of quantum theory and general relativity, God had no choice.”1 This is a rather picturesque way of saying that if there are going to be intelligent carbon-based organisms in the universe, then the general structure of the universe, including some of its unpleasant features, could not have been other than it is.
The limits of human observation mean that we are unlikely ever to know in detail what the necessary constraints on the universe are. We cannot observe the whole universe every time we want to assess the probability of an event occurring, and so we will never know all the laws and constraints that govern the occurrence of any event, much less the structure of the whole universe.
Suppose, then, as a general hypothesis, that there is a basic teleology in nature: a dynamic process, involving elements of chance and also a large element of repetitive law-like behaviour, nevertheless ensures that specific “developed” states will inevitably be realized in the cosmic process. This is not the idea of some sort of person interfering in the process from outside. It is the idea that the process itself has inherent direction and goal, set by the fundamental and timeless laws of the cosmos. The existence of such a teleology will make a difference to specific events that occur, for it is part of the laws of nature, not an interference with them.
The demise of the dinosaurs
When an astronomer says that the formation of planet earth and the genesis of organic life on its surface was the result of a fantastic series of hugely improbable events, this has to be seen in the light of the fact that the cosmos may be set up inevitably to realize organic life forms. In that light it is not at all improbable that events conducive to the genesis of life should occur, though the presence of chance elements does mean that some events destructive of life and purpose will also occur.
The choice, in other words, is not between perfect design and complete chance. It seems more likely that the cosmos moves inevitably toward intelligent consciousness through a partly free (and because free, partly undetermined and therefore partly random) and partly determined (because otherwise there would be no reliable structure) creative process of trial and error.
There was nobody who specifically planned that a meteor should be dispatched to exterminate the dinosaurs 65 million years ago (assuming that it was a meteor that wiped out the dinosaurs) and open the way for humans to evolve. But it may not have been just a by-product, unfortunate for dinosaurs, of totally blind forces of nature. Dinosaurs, after all, flourished for many millions of years. They had their day in the sun, and perhaps they existed for much longer than humans may. But they did not seem to be going anywhere, and they probably ate anything that looked as if it might be going somewhere. They were blocking the evolutionary development of the universe. They were, to put it bluntly, a creative experiment that had run out of steam. To put it more kindly, the process had succeeded in producing impressively large reptiles, but they had reached a dead end. If they had got any larger, their brains would no longer have been able to communicate with their legs in time to run after their prey.
We may think of the destruction of the dinosaurs as a state that presented itself as possible but not inevitable on one of those relatively rare occasions when decisive selections between options are likely. What is required to make sense of this is to think of present situations as containing a number of alternative futures. There will be many constraints on which alternatives can be selected, and on which of them might have decisive consequences. But one causal factor in these complex situations, idealists think, will be the general teleological tendency of the cosmos. This of course will be too much for materialists, who have a paranoid fear of any causal factors in addition to the “blind” laws of nature.
Even materialists have to admit, however, that according to quantum theory there can be alternative futures, and that we do not know the causal principles that select between them. Materialists can always say that these alternatives cancel out on the molecular scale, that purely Darwinian principles are quite sufficient to explain all evolutionary changes, and that anyway there are no “mystical” non-Darwinian principles, so there! This is the fourth argument that sceptics about purpose often produce.
An appropriate reply is that quantum indeterminacies do not always cancel out, and they may in the right conditions amplify into major changes (as with the “butterfly effect”, which keeps weather forecasters in a job even when they get everything wrong). Indeterminacy may not be confined to the subatomic world. Quantum theory has shown that physics does not have to adopt a wholly deterministic view of nature. So there may be indeterminacies – that is, alternative futures without one of them being wholly determined by physical events in the past – at many points in the physical world. Unless we adopt the dogma that the laws of nature have to determine the future in only one way, an element of indeterminism in nature seems very likely. Why should universal laws completely determine everything that happens?
Specifically, the intentions of conscious beings may help to decide what happens in the future of the universe, and such intentions, being mental and not physical, may be in principle unpredictable and not wholly determined by previous physical events. Any scientist who says we know all the causal principles there are, and that those principles are sufficient to determine everything that happens, is not being wholly honest. So there is plenty of room in our universe for events that are influenced not just by general laws of nature, but by conscious goals and intentions. There may be general teleological principles built into nature which will help to explain the apparent direction of evolutionary change toward intelligent consciousness and the fully purposive direction of events.
When someone resorts to saying, “This event was just an extremely improbable occurrence,” we need to remember that science is in the business of making the apparently improbable less improbable. If we cannot do so, that is a defeat for Darwinian theory, not a success! Teleological explanation would render the extinction of the dinosaurs more likely than it would otherwise have been – always assuming that small mammals were more likely to evolve intelligence than T. Rex was. So while dinosaurs may not like the thought that they were holding up the progress of cosmic evolution, it could be the case that their extinction, while not specifically planned by a dinosaur-hating God, was not wholly an unpredictable accident. Sooner or later they would have been replaced, and the proximity of a meteor provided one way in which this could occur, naturally though not inevitably.
I conclude that modern evolutionary theory, when it is not infected by materialist philosophy, does allow for direction or purpose in the cosmic process. It compels us to include a place for chance in the process, but when combined with physics it sets the operation of chance within limits that are imposed by the fundamental laws and constants of the physical world. That is just what seems to be required for the generation of stable and yet limitedly free intelligent persons. To that extent, evolutionary science, especially when set in the context of a general evolutionary cosmology, is wholly consonant with the hypothesis that there is a goal for the material cosmos.
Purposive explanation and idealist thought
But is teleological explanation scientific? Final causality was ruled out of science in the seventeenth century, as appealing but fruitless and obstructive – “like vestal virgins”, Francis Bacon said. Contemporary science does not deal with purposes in nature. That does not mean there are none. Contemporary science does not deal with the taste of tomato soup either, but there is one. So perhaps purposive explanation exists, but is not part of modern science.
There is a good reason why not. If you are going to talk about purpose, you have to talk about the goal at which a purpose aims. Then you have to evaluate that goal as good – nobody aims at something because they regard it as bad. Even masochists, who repeatedly harm themselves, are doing so because (to take just one possibility) they think they deserve it, and it is good to get one’s just deserts – and probably also because they get a sense of sexual pleasure out of it. Some people have very unusual desires. But I am not going to go there.
The point is that science tries to discount personal evaluations. It tries not to say whether something is good or bad, but to give a neutral description of what happens. It is therefore not the job of science to talk about worthwhile goals, and that stops it from talking about purposes. Teleological explanation does talk about worthwhile goals, and supposes that cosmic processes may be directed to achieving them. But purely descriptive science cannot say what those goals are or use the fact that processes seem to be directed to attain them in order to construct mathematical equations that give predictions that can be publicly tested. Aiming at goals is too infected by creativity and freedom to be captured in mathematically exact predictions. So it is not part of modern natural science.
Teleological explanation, in short, belongs to philosophy, not to science. Ah, materialists may say, so it is just a matter of personal opinion? Indeed it is, just like materialism. None of us can avoid taking up a philosophical position, if we think hard enough. That is very irritating, if you dislike philosophy and think it a waste of time.
The basic motivation for positing teleological explanation starts from an analysis of human experience. We have purposes and we act intentionally. Then it proceeds to probe the nature of the world as it is experienced by us and finds (perhaps!) that it is an appearance of a veiled and mysterious reality, not accessible to sense-observation. It discovers the positive activity of thought in constructing the world of appearances and so posits that constructive thinking is part of reality as it is in itself. Constructive thinking is intentional; it is freely aimed at the goal of understanding the world. So teleological (intentional) explanation is part of the real world. It is at that point that we may be led to ask whether we can find traces of it in the observed world of appearances and in the general structure of that world rather than just in human experience.
Since materialism has been abandoned at the very beginning of this process, there is no reason to exclude teleology in principle from the general structure of nature. It is a viable option. When we ask how consciousness originates very late in the history of a universe that begins with a Bang, it can become a compelling thought that it is not a total surprise, but a natural realization of the initial potency of matter itself. So now we look for some more primitive states that can naturally give rise to finite consciousnesses through a long emergent process, and idealist philosophy begins.
Dual-aspect idealism – the truth at last?
The basic laws that structure the universe do not have to be merely mechanical principles with no inkling of the consequences of these mechanical motions. They may include possible goals and processes of value and the future genesis of consciousness as the fruition of matter itself. One way to think about this is to imagine, as some mathematicians do, an abstract space of possibilities, laying down future tracks to future goals and determining, with much room for individual creativity, how the universe will proceed. The actual goals and tracks that are “chosen” may depend on many factors, but evolutionary views of the cosmos suggest that there will be an emergent and developmental process in which finite parts of the cosmos become more and more capable of envisaging and pursuing their own creative paths.
It is consistent with modern quantum theory to regard the whole cosmos as a web of interacting energies, of spatially and temporally located powers. Each part is not, like Leibniz’s unfortunate monads, isolated and closed in on itself. Each part is essentially open to the totality of the space-time nexus. Each receives stimuli from all the others that surround it, integrates those stimuli into a unity of being, and actively responds in accordance with its own specific powers. At the simplest level, for instance that of subatomic wave-particles, both stimuli and responses are more or less algorithmic – they behave in accordance with regular and largely predictable routines, described by the basic forces of nature like electromagnetism, gravity, and nuclear forces. Only in this way can they form stable atoms upon which more complex unities can come to exist.
As atoms form into molecules and they in turn form long chains of RNA and DNA, patterns of stimulus, integration, and response grow more complex. Primitive sentience is a function of complex organic forms, which increasingly act as individuals, though they essentially function as parts of a larger integrated whole.
Probably at the point when brains begin to exist, there is a radically new form of complexity, for which stimuli are registered with intensities of feeling and responded to with some creative agency. In human beings, the most complex form known to us, the conceptual or interpretative element predominates, and responsive actions become subject to causality by envisaged outcomes (intention). The sense of a continuing and active self emerges, interpreting the stimuli received from “outside” as appearances of a world of objects, and intending to modify those objects in accordance with consciously formed purposes.
Humans have private perspectives on, feelings for, and thoughts about, phenomena interpreted as expressions or mediations of external objects (including other persons). They express such feelings and thoughts in external ways, like language. But humans know that language or physical gesture may conceal inner thoughts or fail to state them adequately or be interpreted in many ways, some of them quite mistaken, by those who perceive only the observed expressions. Thus each thought or feeling is known in two ways – as expressed physically and as experienced internally.
It is important to note that the physical expression is itself in a sense an “internal perception” of some observer, a subjective appearance of something taken to be objective, though it does not exist objectively as it appears to the observer. In that sense, the conscious event has logical priority and primary importance, though it is natural to see it as emerging from a long process of physical development.
In the first four chapters of this book I argued for a general philosophical position somewhere between dualism and idealism, and suggested that some form of dualism and some form of idealism probably converged on an acceptable view. That would mean that matter would not merely be an illusion or a content of some mind or minds, but would have its own form of reality. Yet matter would ultimately depend for its existence on a mind-like reality.
A pressing problem for modern philosophy is how to relate matter and mind in a satisfactory way. An evolutionary view would find much to resonate with in Whitehead’s view of the world as a succession of transitory events, each of which has an “inner” aspect as well as an outward physical appearance. For idealists, that inner aspect is the causal driving force of a cumulative and creative process of increasing organized complexity, generating richer forms of consciousness and purposive causality.
I call this a form of idealism because the engine of the process is not the mechanical movements of non-purposive physical entities, but the potentially mind-like reality or realities that are creatively and progressively expressed in the physical cosmos, and in the gradual unfolding of values that were implicit from the first in that cosmos. It is sometimes, however, called monism, because it insists that “feelings” (the inner aspect) and matter are bound together as aspects of a unitary reality. I argued that this is actually identical with a form of dualism that sees mind as the individuating agent of the unity and cumulative development of different streams of individual consciousness and purposive agency, but which allows that such streams of consciousness are firmly embodied in (bound together with) a physical cosmos.
It may seem confusing to mix idealism, monism, and dualism in this way. But perhaps what that shows is that we should not pour our theories too strictly into neatly labelled jars. What I am suggesting is a form of qualified absolute idealism. It could be called dual-aspect idealism. I do not mind the name, as long as it is clear that I mean to argue in favour of two hypotheses. First, that the most important feature of human persons is that they are streams or chains of mental acts and events, streams that are distinguished from one another by each containing experiences of one and only one uniting and cumulatively shaping subject. Second, that these streams of consciousness are the inner aspects of complex organized physical systems, with a long evolutionary history and an inherent potentiality for generating and realizing consciously created and appreciated values.
This provides a general picture of what human persons are that I think is philosophically plausible and consistent with the best modern science. Yet it is undoubtedly the case that many people feel that any sort of dualism or idealism, even or perhaps especially a dual-aspect idealism, is somehow incompatible with contemporary science. This is my cue to return to the work of Gilbert Ryle and re-examine why he thought Cartesian dualism was a myth. It may be that Ryle actually helped to invent the myth, and that Ryle’s own account is capable of a much more idealistic interpretation than he ever dreamed. Of course Professor Ryle never actually had any dreams, since such things are private events, which do not, he thought, exist. So I will have to dream for him.