Philosophy – Anthony G. Flood

When Aptheker dissed James, revisited. (No April Fool’s joke.)

On the tenth anniversary of my old (but extant) site anthonyflood.com (NB: no middle initial), I celebrated the publication of my Aptheker-James article in the C. L. R. James Journal. (It forms chapter 2 of my 2019 book, Herbert Aptheker: Studies in Willful Blindness, a second, expanded edition of which I’m trying to finance.) Those familiar with this story may skip this “old news,” although I believe its historical “feel” sets it apart from accounts posted elsewhere on this site, as does my digression into metaphilosophy. (A search for <James Aptheker> will return all of them.) There are, of course, always those who are hearing about this for the first time. I’d be happy to hear from either class of visitors.

Marking a Decade (January 17, 2014)

On the occasion of the tenth anniversary of this site, I am pleased to report the publication of my article “C. L. R. James: Herbert Aptheker’s Invisible Man,” in the Fall 2013 issue of the CLR James Journal. It arrived in the mail two days ago, and I purchased access to the online version of my essay this morning (sort of an anniversary present to myself). Hazily aware for four decades of C. L. R. James (1901-1989), author of The Black Jacobins: Toussaint L’Ouverture and the San Domingo Revolution, the umpteenth sighting of his name in my reading material (this time it was in a piece by Dwight Macdonald) over the course of a few months in 2012 triggered an odd reverie and query. (In the late thirties and early forties Macdonald and James’s circles partly overlapped.)

Herbert Aptheker (1915-2003), once one of the leading intellectuals in the Communist Party of the United States of America (CPUSA), was a ground-breaking Marxist historian of American slave revolts. So why hadn’t James’s work figured into his writings (virtually all of which I had read before I was twenty)? Why hadn’t James’s name ever crossed Aptheker’s lips during our many conversations about the early years while I served as one of his research assistants in the early seventies? After some research, I concluded that Aptheker’s neglect of James was deliberate. Continue reading “When Aptheker dissed James, revisited. (No April Fool’s joke.)”

Clarity is not enough.

“Not enough for what?” To philosophize aright. I swiped this post’s title from a collection of essays by critics of the philosophical school of linguistic analysis that dominated 20th-century academic philosophy.[1] Standard encyclopedia definitions, however, have a different emphasis. Wikipedia’s article on “philosophy,” for example, reads in part:

Philosophy is a systematic study of general and fundamental questions concerning topics like existence, reason, knowledge, value, mind, and language. It is a rational and critical inquiry that reflects on its methods and assumptions.

But is philosophy simply a systematic study? Etymologically, philosophy is the love (philia) of wisdom (sophia). How far may a self-identifying philosopher responsibly stray from that root? As Brand Blanshard, a contributor to the above-referenced anthology, wrote in his entry for the 1967 The Encyclopedia of Philosophy, wisdom

may be accompanied by a broad range of knowledge, by intellectual acuteness, and by speculative depth, but it is not to be identified with any of these and may appear in their absence. It involves intellectual grasp or insight, but it is concerned not so much with the ascertainment of fact or the elaboration of theories as with the means and ends of practical life.[2]

Continue reading “Clarity is not enough.”

The preeminence of Christ over all things requires distinguishing Philosophy AFTER Christ from Philosophy BEFORE Christ

How is philosophy after Christ (κατὰ Χριστόν, kata Christon) related to philosophy after some other principle? (See Colossians 2:8.) Say, how does it related to philosophy before Christ?

In Philosophy after Christ[1], I explain that by “after,” I don’t mean “later than” (i.e., chronologically after). I mean “in the manner of,” as an artist might paint “after Picasso.” The preposition “after” translates κατὰ (kata).

Likewise, when Yahweh—whose incarnation Yeshua HaMashiach (Jesus Christ) is—used the Hebrew equivalent of “before” in expressing the First Commandment, He said that no one who calls Him Lord shall put anything before Him in priority or reverence, thereby risking idolatry: “You shall have no other gods before (עַל, al) me” (Exodus 20:3). Continue reading “The preeminence of Christ over all things requires distinguishing Philosophy AFTER Christ from Philosophy BEFORE Christ”

How to defeat the transcendental argument for the existence of God (TAG), if that’s what you wish to do

You can defeat the TAG[1] if you can show that there is a way to account for intelligible predication without presupposing the Christian worldview. Otherwise, the latter’s claim to account for it stands.

Go ahead. Make my day.

If Christ is πρό πάντων (pro pantōn), that is, before (“prior to”) all things (Colossians 1:17), then He is πρό φιλοσοφία (see Colossians 2:8), that is, before philosophy.

If awareness of Christ is the foreword or prologue to sound philosophizing (wisdom-seeking), if such cognizance is the beginning (תְּחִלַּ֣ת, tehillat) of wisdom (חָ֭כְמָה, hakmah); Proverbs 9:10), then believing that God exists (ὅτι ἔστιν, Hebrews 11:6) is not an afterthought, an inference from something created (e.g., a “theistic proof”).

If Christ is the ground of inference, then you cannot philosophize (analyze, synthesize) profitably without acknowledging the priority that πρό implies, that is, without acknowledging who Christ is. You’re just beating the air. Continue reading “How to defeat the transcendental argument for the existence of God (TAG), if that’s what you wish to do”

On dogma and dogmatism

Bill Vallicella, a friend and philosophical sparring partner of two decades, recently discussed another thinker’s argument from design to God.[1] Since my interest lies in biblical rather than “classical” theism, I will not engage with the argument itself or his discussion of it. Instead, I want to examine the presuppositions of philosophical theology general and a thesis of Bill’s in particular.

The presupposition of philosophical theology is that it is licit for a human being to suspend his knowledge of יהוה (Yahweh)—the God of the Bible—in order to explore the limits of philosophical inquiry with respect to God’s existence. From time to time, Bill revisits his thesis that there are no rationally compelling (“knock-down”) arguments for or against any metaphysical position. He did so again in his recent post, providing an opportunity for me to restate my position.

I was reminded of an essay I reposted in 2023, which first appeared on my old site twenty years earlier. In it, I critique “Dogmatic Uncertainty” by the British libertarian classicist and novelist Sean Gabb.[2] Both Gabb and Bill implicitly rely on the contrast between δόξα (doxa) and ἐπιστήμη (epistēmē)—that is, between “mere” opinion and certain knowledge. I presume that Bill, an expert in argumentation, has not ruled out the possibility that we are within our rights to claim ἐπιστήμη about God without supporting argumentation. But if I make that claim, am I being necessarily “dogmatic” in the pejorative sense? Continue reading “On dogma and dogmatism”

“I’m doing philosophy; you’re doing apologetics!”

“No, I’m philosophizing Christianly.[1] Together, let’s uncover the What is Cultural Apologetics? worldview you’re defending (wittingly or otherwise).”

When an epistemologically self-conscious Christian makes a point that discomfits someone who’s not epistemologically self-conscious, it’s not long before the latter questions the former’s motive. “You’re not interested in the truth of the matter; you’re trying to sign me up for something, you special pleader you!” Since the Christian’s motive is not neutral, they suggest, it’s not pure. It’s suspect.

Christians who engage in apologetics are philosophizing—they’re pursuing wisdom at the highest level of generality—but they do so in dialogue with unbelievers (or inconsistent believers). The apologist may, if it’s called for, employ the analytical tools on display in articles published in peer-reviewed journals labeled “philosophical.”

Qua apologist, however, he is not necessarily trying to negotiate the conceptual terrain at the highest level of analytical exactitude. That is partly because the latter is not necessary for the apologist’s task, which is to present the excellent message or “news” (εὐαγγέλιον, evangelion) of Jesus Christ and demolish the objections to it, if any, that his auditor may throw back at him.

There’s a time and place for analytical depth and scholarly excellence, but the motive of apologetic theoria is to be found in polemical give-and-take of apologetic praxis. The Christian “lover of wisdom” (for whom Christ is the Wisdom of God) does not do apologetics “for its own sake” or to impress his fellows in the common room. He’s trying to get the other guy to recognize his need for peace with God and hopes God will use his (the apologist’s) effort to remove obstacles to that recognition. God has, of course, already ordained the outcome; it’s a discovery process for both parties. Continue reading ““I’m doing philosophy; you’re doing apologetics!””

Why not be arbitrary? A worldview-based answer.

Last week I posted a grad school paper I wrote in 1978 about the problem (scandal?) of diversity in philosophy. Bill Vallicella commented on it in his site’s combox. I mostly agree with his criticisms of how I formulated things then, but in the end he mentioned a persistent issue between us, namely, my worldview approach to philosophy in general (“presuppositionalism”) and Christian apologetics in particular.

As Bill’s passing (hand-waving?) comment was not a paper for academic peer review, I won’t hold it to those standards. I caught in it, however, a dismissive attitude, shared by many, that casts aspersions on what I’m up to. It occasioned and merits a response. I give one with no insinuation of “So there!” but rather in Bill’s irenic spirit.

He wrote:

. . . I think you and I have much common ground. The difference is that you have opted for a presuppositionalism that to me makes no sense and is a privileging of an arbitrarily adopted position. I have shown to my satisfaction that TAG [the Transcendental Argument for the existence of God] is a non-starter. You of course disagree. This is yet another philosophical disagreement. You may think you are beyond philosophy and that philosophy is, as you term it ‘misosophy,’ but you are still stuck at the philosophical level.[1]

Greg L. Bahnsen would often charge his debate opponent with being arbitrary. Don’t be!, he’d advise, before showing how his opponent offended in that respect.

The Christian worldview’s grounding of intelligible predication extends to one norm informing the giving of reasons, that is, of not being arbitrary. If you’re not thinking in harmony with that worldview—if the Word of God is not behind your admonishments—why not be arbitrary? Continue reading “Why not be arbitrary? A worldview-based answer.”

How Lonergan’s “Insight” was received: the case of Quentin Lauer, SJ.

Image 2 of 5 for Insight; A Study of Human Understanding People who find Bernard Lonergan’s writing forbidding might benefit from this review of his magisterial Insight: A Study of Human Understanding, the subject of yesterday’s post, by Husserl and Hegel scholar Quentin Lauer, SJ (1917-1997).

It’s a short answer to the question: what was Lonergan up to in Insight as one of his scholarly contemporaries (and fellow Jesuit) interpreted that enterprise?

The review was published in the June 1958 issue of Phenomenology and Phenomenological Research. Insight’s year of publication is given as 1956; in fact, it was published in 1957, so Lauer’s review appeared one year, not almost two years later. Continue reading “How Lonergan’s “Insight” was received: the case of Quentin Lauer, SJ.”

Bernard Lonergan’s insight into philosophical diversity: the variable of personal development

Bernard J. F. Lonergan, SJ (1904-1984). Late 1940s, early 1950s.

Last month I published an old (1978) paper of mine on the problem (scandal?) of philosophical diversity, “Philosophic Diversity and Skeptical Possibility: A Confrontation with Hegel”[1]—why is it that brilliant minds committed to discovering truth cannot agree?—but I forgot to mention that when I wrote it, my discovery of Bernard Lonergan and his proposed outline of a solution to the problem was still a few months in the future.

The first step in cornering it, he said, lies in grasping “the polymorphism of human consciousness.” Consciousness operates differently in different contexts, for example, commonsense understanding, theoretical reasoning, artistic expression, or moral deliberation, and so forth.

In his magnum opus, Insight: A Study in Human Understanding, Lonergan makes this bold pronouncement:

. . . the polymorphism of human consciousness is the one and only key to philosophy.[2]

I learned only today of the publication, in 2008, of a (prohibitively expensive) book that elaborates upon this proposition.[3]

Continue reading “Bernard Lonergan’s insight into philosophical diversity: the variable of personal development”

How I philosophized when I put philosophy before Christ

In Philosophy after Christ: Thinking God’s Thoughts after Him, I essayed an approach to philosophizing that in some ways is continuous with the way modern philosophers (and their ancient, classical, not to mention non-Western, counterparts) go about their business, but in other ways, or rather in a fundamental way, discontinuous, even offensively so to their sensibilities (when they become aware of it).

You see, they assume a stance of theoretical and ethical neutrality toward Christ’s claims, and for one who pursues Christ as the Wisdom of God (the only wisdom or sophia worth loving), such a posture is as impossible as it is unacceptable.

The typical response, even from philosophers who identify as Christians, is that I’m seriously misunderstanding the role of philosophy. They argue that I’m blurring the line between philosophical analysis and Christian apologetics.

To integrally perform the former, that is, philosophical analysis, requires philosophers, including the Christians among them, to bracket or suspend their commitments. An example of this is the “presumption of atheism” that the late atheist-turned-deist Antony Flew (not to be confused with Anthony Flood) defended: like the presumption of innocence, the “presumption of atheism” may be defeated, but only by a sound argument for biblical theism that does not presuppose that biblical theism is true.[1]

However, my position (following, if at a galactic distance from Cornelius Van Til) is that God’s existence is the precondition of acquiring true premises and relating them logically, that is, of rational argumentation. If that is so, then one rationally ought to explicitly advert to that precondition rather than pretend that it doesn’t hold. (Even the argument for this conclusion, however indirect, presupposes that the precondition is met.)

I first tried out this idea in a post that is an ancestor of a chapter of my book: “The Problem of Philosophy” (first on November 26, 2018, then republished with links to subsequent posts, which also evolved into chapters, on July 21, 2020; the book was published June 2022).

I think that those whom I’ve failed to convince regard me as either stubborn or obtuse. This experience has persuaded me that resistance to the exposure of theoretical neutrality (and the “presumption of atheism” it seems to entail) is so sedimented into the consciousness of the modern intellectual—again, even of the Christian modern intellectual—that he or she cannot imagine an alternative to that stance. Continue reading “How I philosophized when I put philosophy before Christ”