A Tale of Two Philosophies

As for why philosophy is so secular, I suppose that story is a long one but must trace back to the Enlightenment. It also seems that most current-day philosophers, at least in the Anglophone world, are not religious…”

For much of ancient and medieval philosophy up to the Renaissance the distinction between philosophy and religion is meaningless. Aristotle describes the human end as “serving and contemplating god” at the end of the Eudemian Ethics. Spinoza describes it as “intellectual love of god.” Of course the god of the philosophers can come into conflict with the god (or gods) of more traditional forms of religion. Socrates for one is accused of impiety. Yet Plato clearly makes an effort to portray him as a pious man. In the Phaedo, for example, he expresses delight about the concept of god as nous (reason). Lots of philosophers also tried to bring their philosophical commitments in line with traditional religion by reinterpreting the latter in light of the former (think of Averroes’ famous claim in the Decisive Treatise that the “truth [of reason] cannot contradict the truth [of Islam]”)…

That first quote is from Carlos Fraenkel, James McGill Professor of Philosophy and Religion at McGill University in Montreal, and the second is from Peter Adamson, professor of late ancient and Arabic philosophy at the Ludwig Maximilian University of Munich and host of the prolific History of Philosophy without any gaps podcast. Adamson’s dissertation was on the “Theology of Aristotle” by Plotinus and traced the Muslim philosopher al-Kindi’s translation work in the medieval period to its significance for Islamic philosophy.

Both quotes above are from their ~4,500-word joint-interview here, well worth a full read if you have the time. Part of the reason I found it engaging is because both (atheist) philosophers see a radical break with religion in the post-Enlightenment era, Adamson marking the break at the Enlightenment and Fraenkel marking it in the nineteenth century.

If Adamson and others are correct in their assessment of the history of philosophy, philosophy-then ≠ philosophy-now. Seventh century philosophy has much in common with 13th century philosophy, but neither has much in common with 19th century philosophy. Which is why Carlos Fraenkel says,

I have a problem with “analytic” history of philosophy when it suggests a false continuity — as if contemporary philosophers were basically wrestling with the same questions Plato and Aristotle wrestled with. On this view, philosophy is a kind of perennial quest for true answers to fundamental and unchanging philosophical questions — metaphysical, epistemological, moral, etc. I think this is false. I think the meaning of foundational concepts such as rationality, for example, have so radically changed that we can only speak of continuity from ancient to contemporary philosophy at the price of equivocation.

And the kicker:

I think glossing over these discontinuities can lead to a pretty distorted picture of the history of philosophy.

So what does this historical picture mean? Part of what it means is that there is a major difference between the history of philosophy and the history of theology, and the separation we see now between the disciplines began in earnest around the 17th century. And what that means is we should avoid not only anachronisms that impose contemporary categories and terminology onto philosophical discussions in past centuries, but we should also avoid anachronistically applying 17th century categories and terminology onto the contemporary philosophical scene. So when Aquinas, Voetius or anyone else discusses the role of philosophy or the relation between philosophy and theology, the philosophical topics and figures they discuss look remarkably different from contemporary philosophical topics and figures. It would be a display of poor scholarship to sever discussions from their 13th or 17th century philosophical context and then airdrop them onto the current philosophical landscape.

If disciplines are houses and sub-disciplines are rooms, responsible scholarship should know what room its work is in. The House of Philosophy includes the History of Philosophy room, and it includes the Systematic Philosophy room. These rooms include questions that overlap, but also some that do not, and certainly employ different methodologies. The House of Theology includes the History of Theology room, and it includes the Systematic Theology room, again with both overlapping and non-overlapping questions for each, and distinct in their methodologies as well. For example:

1. Are you asking what view theologian x held about topic p? That’s an excellent question that involves primarily historical theology.
2. Are you asking whether the view theologian x held about topic p is true? That’s an excellent question that involves primarily systematic theology.
3. Are you asking what view philosopher x held about topic p? That’s an excellent question that involves primarily the history of philosophy.
4. Are you asking whether the view philosopher x held about topic p is true? That’s an excellent question that involves primarily systematic philosophy.

These disciplines are related, but not identical either in method or in content. Let’s say a 17th century theological figure endorsed a form of Aristotelian metaphysics. What question does that answer? It answers an important historical question involving a particular theologian in history and his philosophical commitments. In no way does the fact that a 17th century theologian held to an Aristotelian metaphysic answer the normative or systematic question, “What kind of metaphysic comes closest to the truth and, therefore, what should I hold, given the contemporary suite of metaphysical options?” Answering normative and systematic questions by giving merely a historical answer is a sure mark of confusing and conflating all the disciplines mentioned above.

Let me block a potential objection outright: if you think the above comments are some attempt to devalue or deprioritize rich, historical study, you haven’t been listening. Not only is rigorous historical work in theology (and philosophy) perennially valuable, it is obviously necessary. (Take a look at Aza Goudriaan’s book, Reformed Orthodoxy and Philosophy, 1625-1750: Gisbertus Voetius, Petrus Van Mastricht, and Anthonius Driessen for a fine example of important historical work related to this topic.) Part of the value of historical theology is the distinct questions, topics, and methodology inherent in the discipline itself. Historical figures should inform systematic topics (and vice versa), but the two should not be conflated.

At the very least, if Adamson and others have a respectable view in the way they understand the history of philosophy, then the very discipline of history itself demands an argument if one is to make the case for greater continuity between philosophy in the 17th century and contemporary philosophy. Merely assuming philosophical continuity to be the case automatically undermines whatever theological project makes such an assumption.