In the vast realm of philosophical inquiry, one discipline stands out as the foundation of all others—the fascinating and enigmatic field of metaphysics. Spanning centuries of human thought and speculation, metaphysics has captivated philosophers, thinkers, and seekers of truth, offering profound insights into the nature of reality, existence, and the fundamental principles that underlie the universe itself. To understand the origins and evolution of metaphysics, we must embark on a journey through the annals of intellectual history, tracing its development from ancient civilizations to the modern age.

The roots of metaphysics can be found in the ancient world, where early civilizations grappled with fundamental questions about the nature of being and the cosmos. In ancient Greece, a society celebrated for its philosophical pioneers, thinkers like Thales of Miletus, Pythagoras, and Heraclitus contemplated the fundamental principles that governed the world. Their inquiries laid the groundwork for what would become metaphysics—an intellectual endeavor concerned with exploring the nature of reality, the existence of ultimate truths, and the relationship between the physical and the metaphysical.

However, it was the revered philosopher Aristotle who bestowed metaphysics with its enduring name and laid the groundwork for its systematic study. In his works, which he referred to as “first philosophy” or “the science of being qua being,” Aristotle explored questions pertaining to the nature of existence, causality, substance, and the concept of being itself. He delved into the study of reality beyond the physical realm, examining concepts such as potentiality and actuality, form and matter, and the existence of a prime mover—a transcendent force that set the universe in motion.

Throughout the centuries, metaphysics underwent various transformations and adaptations as new philosophical schools emerged and older ones evolved. In the medieval period, metaphysics became entwined with theology, particularly within Christian scholasticism. Influential figures like St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas sought to reconcile metaphysical concepts with religious doctrine, intertwining the study of being with divine revelation.

The Enlightenment era marked a significant turning point for metaphysics. As scientific discoveries and rational inquiry took center stage, philosophers began to question the traditional metaphysical framework. Figures such as René Descartes and Immanuel Kant proposed new approaches, emphasizing reason, skepticism, and the limits of human understanding. Descartes famously declared, “I think, therefore I am,” highlighting the importance of individual consciousness and the subjective experience in understanding existence.

In the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, metaphysics experienced a resurgence, fueled by both a reaction against the limitations of empirical science and a renewed interest in the nature of reality. Philosophers like Friedrich Nietzsche, Martin Heidegger, and Ludwig Wittgenstein engaged in profound debates about language, meaning, and the nature of being. Metaphysics, during this period, often found itself entwined with existentialism, phenomenology, and linguistic analysis, among other philosophical movements.

As we venture into the twenty-first century, metaphysics continues to evolve, shaped by the dynamic interplay between traditional philosophical inquiry and advancements in scientific understanding. Contemporary philosophers explore new realms of metaphysical investigation, such as the nature of consciousness, the implications of quantum physics, and the possibility of multiple universes.

In conclusion, the philosophy of metaphysics has traveled a long and intricate path throughout history. From its ancient origins in the philosophical inquiries of the Greeks to its modern manifestations in the complex web of contemporary thought, metaphysics remains an enduring and vibrant field of study. Its profound inquiries into the nature of reality, existence, and the ultimate principles that shape our world continue to captivate and challenge those who seek to unravel the mysteries of the universe.

Defining metaphysics is difficult. On a summary level, one possible definition is that metaphysics is the field of philosophy concerned with identifying that which is real. You may wonder why any reasonable person would invest time pursuing an answer to that which, at first glance, seems obvious. But on deeper inspection of the world around you, it can be challenging to identify what is real.

Consider the acorn. As you probably learned through life science, an acorn is destined to become an oak. If you were to look at the acorn and compare it to the oak, you would see two radically different things. How can a thing change and remain the same thing?

Aristotle offers insight into how the acorn and the oak represent change but within the same being. Within Aristotle’s thinking, each being has a specific end or purpose. As telos is Greek for “end” (end as target or goal), this view is known as teleological. In addition, each being is described as having a specific function (ergon) by which that being seeks the proper end.

In the case of an oak tree, the oak tree works from its acorn to the fullness of the oak. Aristotle describes the becoming as movement from a state of potentiality to actuality. You might say that which is most real concerning the oak stands beneath the movement from acorn to oak. The movement from potentiality toward actuality is one method to make sense of change while maintaining a constant or underlying sense of true being.

Metaphysical questions tend to be not resting points but starting points. This chapter begins to explore many simple yet interrelated questions as part of seeking the real.

The Latin term substantia, translated as “substance,” is often used to refer to the basic reality of a thing. The notion that reason could lay bare the secrets of the cosmos if properly applied was widespread throughout the ancient world. One of the early questions that philosophers in ancient Greece and India approached was that of fundamentality, or simply, What is the foundation of reality? What is the independent base for that which we consider to be real?

Fundamentality: The One and the Many

A reasonable starting point in the philosophical pursuit of the “really real” is to consider just how many real things exist. Is the real one, or is it many? You are probably puzzled by the question. Every day, you see and experience a plurality of beings. Common sense suggests that if you were to take a moment to observe the many different and ostensibly nonrelated things in your presence right now, you would most likely support a pluralistic view (there are many real things). Yet the framing of the real as one (the view known as monism) is also compelling.

Monism

One of the earliest metaphysical positions taken was monism. At its simplest form, monism is the belief that the most discrete or fundamental reality (i.e., “the really real”) is singular. This idea was held by the so-called pre-Socratics, a disparate group of philosophers who lived somewhat near each other and were born prior to Socrates but whose metaphysical positions, even if monistic, were wildly different. For example, they had different views of what the one “really real” is (see table 6.1).

Table 6.1 Pre-Socratic Monists

It is tempting to look at the list of monistic answers and dismiss the thought quickly. Water, for example, is not the “really real.” Yet as we see below, philosophers such as Thales of Miletus made a consistent, rational argument for monism. In his case, he argued in support of water as the fundamental substance.

Thales of Miletus

Studying the philosophers who predate Socrates is challenging, as in many cases their primary works did not survive. But there are transcribed fragments and the characterization of other philosophers from which to gain insights. There are also historians to give glimpses of what these thinkers posited. In the case of Thales, Aristotle is a useful source. Aristotle noted, “Thales, the founder of this school of philosophy, says the permanent entity is water (which is why he also propounded that the earth floats on water)” (Metaphysics 983b20). Why would anyone draw this conclusion? Aristotle suggested that Thales’s belief reflected the observations that all things are nourished through water, that heat itself is generated through the absence or removal of water, and that all things require water to live. The observations inherent to the position itself are understandable. How long can a person live without water? What happens to plants during drought? Water is, indeed, essential for any being.

The intellectual assumptions supporting the position are intriguing. First, Thales is working from the assumption that all things that are must be conceived as having only a material principle. Given how these thinkers made sense of the world around them, assuming only material causes (e.g., fire, water, air) is understandable. A second assumption informing the position is the notion that being either is or it is not. For these thinkers, there is no becoming (e.g., change or evolving) from one fundamental substance, such as water, to another, such as fire. There is no state somewhere in between being and not being. By extension, being (once it is) cannot be generated or destroyed. Thus, primary being (the most real of reals) must be and must not be capable of not being (Aristotle, Metaphysics 983b).

Thales’s account of water as the most real is internally consistent, meaning the argument uses the evidence presented in such a way as to avoid asserting contradictory and potentially competing claims. However, his approach itself prioritizes reason over the overwhelming empirical evidence. As a result, he draws a conclusion that denies the reality of change, motion, and plurality that is experienced so readily.

Pluralism

Pluralism asserts that fundamental reality consists of many types of being. The pluralists viewed the “really real” as “many,” but like the pre-Socratic monists, they did not hold a uniform view concerning how to define the many or basic realities (see table 6.2).

Table 6.2 Pre-Socratic Pluralists

One of the views that resonates with the contemporary reader is that of atomism. Note that the atomism alluded to here is different from what is referred to as atomic theory. The atom within the thinking of Leucippus and Democritus refers to atomos as meaning “uncuttable” or “that which cannot be divided.” The plurality we experience is the result of atoms in motion. As these indivisible and eternal bits of true being collide and either join or separate, the beings we experience are formed. But underneath or supporting the being we experience is that being that is eternal and unchanging—in other words, the atoms. Atoms are the true being, and the visible objects are not!

Although it might appear that they have broken all philosophical ties with the monists, both the monists and pluralists agreed that true being was eternal. Anything real stayed as it was. Change happened to things that were not real. This assertion, however, leads to the unsatisfactory conclusion that neither the acorn nor the oak is real.

Atomism in Indian Philosophy

Indian atomism provides for foundational immutable substances while going further toward accounting for change and explaining the transformation of the acorn into the oak. One of the earliest of all atomic models was pioneered in the sixth century BCE by a philosopher named Acharya Kanad. According to legend, he was inspired by watching pilgrims scatter rice and grains at a temple. As he began to examine the rice, he realized that the grains, left alone, were without value. But once the grains were assembled into a meal, the collection of anu (atom) made a meal. So too were the beings we observe collections of indivisible particles.

Another tradition, the Nyāya-Vaiśeṣika, proposed an atomic theory built upon two elements: (1) the presence of change within things or wholes and (2) the doctrine of five elements (pañca mahābhūtas). Unlike the Greek atomistic view explored earlier, each atom was thought to have a specific attribute. As noted by Chatterjee (2017), “An earth atom has odour, a water atom taste, a fire atom colour and an air atom has touch as specific attribute.”

The reasoning supporting the atomistic views described above is a priori. Using an appeal to reason (and not experience), it was asserted that all things were composed of parts, and therefore it was necessary to assert that all things were reducible to eternal, spherical, and indivisible building blocks. The potential of an infinite regress (anavasthā) suggested that parts could always be divided into smaller parts. However, reason dictated that there must be a logical starting point at which no smaller part could be admitted (Chatterjee 2017).

Unlike the random bumping and grinding used by Democritus to explain how atoms combined to form wholes, the Nyāya-Vaiśeṣika framework explained composition through the joining of similar atomic types to first form a dyad (dyaṇuka) and then a triad (tryaṇuka). Triads joined in varying permutations in order to build the objects, or “wholes,” we experience.

Ontological Perspectives on Substance

Up until now, this chapter has examined substance from a materialistic perspective—the concrete substances (water, fire, atoms) that make up the physical world that we see around us. As such, the discussion has been located squarely within physicalism, an approach that equates the real world with the physical world. The study of existence, of being, of what is real—a discipline known as ontology—is broader. Ontos is the Greek participle from the verb “to be” and means “being.” What qualifies as being? How should we categorize being?

Naturalism

Naturalism, in its simplest form, is the view that meaningful inquiry includes only the physical and the laws governing physical entities and rejects the priority placed on reason assumed within metaphysics. For example, naturalism asserts that the inventory of beings allowed should include beings that are found within the physical realm. If we can see a thing or if we can test a thing within a laboratory environment, then a naturalist would include the being within their inventory. Naturalists also weed out the assumptions, theories, and questions that are introduced but not capable of empirical proof.

The debate between supernaturalism (which accepts the existence of beings beyond or above our natural realm) and naturalism is as old as philosophical inquiry itself. But the tension became particularly relevant during the modern period. During modernity, scholars made advances across many disciplines based upon a turn to a scientific method and a rejection of a priori reasoning.

The Allegory of the Cave

In Book VII of The Republic, Plato offered his allegory of the cave, which depicts prisoners who have mistaken shadows cast on the wall of the cave for real beings and therefore have mistaken illusion for truth. The prisoners have been imprisoned throughout their lives. They are chained in place and have been positioned so that they can only see shadows that are cast upon the wall in front of them. They have come to treat the shadows not as the reflections that they are but as something real. In an unexpected plot twist, one prisoner escapes and reaches the cave entrance. There, for the first time, he sees the sun—the true source of light (knowledge). After adjusting to the overpowering light emanating from the sun, the prisoner realizes that a fire was causing objects to cast shadows on the cave wall. The shadows cast by the fire within the cave were reflections. He realizes that the shadows were not actual being or truth—they were merely fading facsimiles of reality. The escaped prisoner, freed from the chains of his earlier captivity (metaphorically speaking), understands the true nature of being and truth. He returns to the cave to “free” his fellow captives, but his claim is rejected by those in chains.

Plato’s Notion of Substance and Form

The prisoners were mistaking shadows for that which was real. But shadows do not last. As soon as the source of light fades, the shadows too disappear. If we want to identify the really real, Plato argued, we need to go beyond mere shadows and try to find those beings whose reality is not temporary. The idea or form of a thing, unlike the material “shadow,” was not subject to atrophy and change.

The Latin term substantia, translated as “substance,” describes the basic reality or essence of a thing that supports or stands under features that are incidental to the substance itself. While the so-called incidental features (e.g., quantity, time, place) can change, the essence of the entity endures. To account for the fundamental whatness of a thing, Plato posited an unchanging form or idea as the underlying and unchanging substance. As all things within a person’s reality are subject to change, Plato reasoned that the forms or unchanging basic realities concerning all things must not be located within this world. He therefore posited a realm in which change did not occur.

There is an intuitive appeal to Plato’s accounting of the real to forms. How else could we explain our ability to recognize a type of being given the sheer number of differences we will observe in the instances of a thing? We can make sense of dog, for example, because beyond the differences found among spaniels, poodles, and retrievers, there is a form of dog that accounts for knowing dog and being as dog.

Aristotle on Matter and Form

Aristotle, a student of Plato, disagreed with his teacher. If forms did exist, he challenged, then how could forms influence things? How could an immaterial form—which lacks matter—cause change to material entities?

In addition, what about concepts that are not easily reducible to a simple meaning or idea? Aristotle noted that “good was said in many ways” (Ethics 1096a–b as found in Adamson 2016, 232). The reduction to a single form to identify the whatness for something works when the concept is simple but does not work when a wide-ranging concept (such as “the good”) is considered. Aristotle agreed with the approach of isolating dogness as the essence, but through the study of specific instances or particulars. He encouraged natural observation of the entity in question and introduced the categories of species and genera.

Unlike Plato, Aristotle did not posit an otherworldly form or collection of forms. In his middle and later works, Aristotle explained substance through a composite of matter and form. Form, much like an idea a sculptor has in mind, is the unchanging purpose or whatness informing each particular or individual instance. In this case of a sculpture, the sculptor’s vision or idea was referred to as the formal cause. The marble would be the material cause. The ability and artistic skill of the sculptor was termed the efficient cause. The final cause reflected the purpose of the being, or the reason why the sculpture was made in the first place.

The idea of substance being a composite of form within matter became known as hylomorphism. The Greek word hyle translates as “wood.” Here wood is figurative, a symbol of basic building material that is shaped by the form within a particular instance. The form does not reside in the Platonic heavens but, through purpose and efficiency, moves a particular thing from its beginning state (potentiality) along a continuum toward its final goal (actuality). The acorn is driven by its form and purpose to become the mighty oak. The movement from potentiality to actuality requires material and the efficient (proper) application of these materials such that the acorn can become!

What do you think? The crucial difference introduced at this historical point was the emphasis placed upon particulars—individual instances of an entity—by Aristotle. While Plato stressed forms and asserted that there could be no individual instance without the form, Aristotle stressed particulars and asserted that without individual instances, there could be no knowledge of the form. Whereas Plato holds that beauty itself causes the beauty we see in flowers or faces, Aristotle asserts that there is no such thing as beauty without beautiful things, such as flowers and faces (Adamson 2016, 231).