What is then, profoundly considered, the over-all attitude of the Middle Ages towards the individual? Is there a poor appreciation of the alterocentric value we have found to be inseparable from personalism and individuality?
No. We think such a statement would be a gross misrepresentation of the actual facts of the history of medieval thought. Sincerely, how could the immediate forefathers of the Renaissance heroes be poor individualists? We would rather say, it was that bud of a definite individualism inherent right in the Middle Ages which was finally to burst out into full blossom in the Renaissance.
The problem of individuation, we know, has a very peculiar significance in the philosophy of scholasticism. The scholastics were quite conscious of the problem. By the way, the very fact that one envisaged it from a problematic angle, is not a sign of natural individualism; at least, however, it could be the sign of an aspiration towards individualism.
Anyway, the schoolmen were vividly conscious of the question of why there are such an infinite number of individual oaks, for instance. All those oaks have exactly the same substantial perfection. They have the substantial perfection of the one forma querci. Is it then necessary--nay, is it reasonable even--that all those distinct individualities should exist? In fact, the existence of just one single representative of each form would mean a very great simplicity. Not of any single kind would there then be two corporeal beings. And still there would be a differing scale of perfection. One thing would differ from another thing as all forms differ; that is, for instance, as the number 3 differs from the number 4.
This is of course an experiment of thought which provides a rather startling conception of the world, seen with the eyes of common men. Every man is not a Thomas Aquinas or a Leibniz (inventors of the monad theory); fortunately not, we are tempted to say.
We are of course greatly interested in knowing what solution the great Christian philosopher in the Middle Ages, Thomas Aquinas, provided for that problem of individuation. But let us first point out a general fact, which certainly has to be admitted: there is, in the thinking of these ages as a whole, a tremendous consciousness of the value and importance of just species. We do not doubt that this stems from pagan philosophy, rather than from Christian wisdom. One thing about it, nevertheless, actually has its origin in Christianity: namely, the special interpretation which is given to the idea that the greater the variety of essences populating this universe, the more weighty is the evidence of the inherent perfection of it all, and also the perfection of God, its Creator. This is a constant refrain down through the history of ideas, reaching its climax in the famous theodicies of philosophers in modern times. The importance of the individual is not emphasized nearly as much. He must content himself, poor creature, with living in the shadow of that primordial admiration for species!
The goodness of the species transcends the goodness of the individual, as form transcends matter; therefore the multiplication of species is a greater addition to the good of the universe than the multiplication of individuals of a single species. (Thomas Aquinas, Summa contra gentiles, I, 81)
We have a misgiving that here the influence upon the great Doctor Angelicus is more from Aristotle than from the Gospel. His conviction regarding the total transcendence and superiority of the Form leads him to statements which might startle many an unphilosophical Christian. "An angel is better than a stone," he admits. But that is no reason why one should believe that "two angels are better than one angel and a stone". For, he argues, "although an angel, considered absolutely, is better than a stone, nevertheless two natures are better than one only" (Ibid., III, 71).
But let us go somewhat more deeply into the attitude of the great Dominican philosopher towards the individual, and, first of all, his theory of individuation. As a disciple of Aristotle he certainly does not have any serious prejudice against matter. And what is the principle of individuation? It is just signate matter. Only if there had been no matter (that is: no quality of extension), there would have been no reason for several individuals of the same kind to exist in this world.
For the substantial form, in itself, is not only indifferent to the reduplication of individual beings, but even foreign to it. "Forma irrecepta est illimitata." But we know what happens to that unlimited form, when the individual comes into existence: the individual means a limitation. The form is "forced" to unite with matter in order to exist (that is, to take on extended existence). At the same moment its unlimited quality is gone. It has limited itself--instead of retaining eternally, within itself, all its capacities of realization.
However, that limitation which has taken place is by no means unfavorable to totality, in our human and alterocentric sense of the term. For just where the line of limitation of one oak--or of one human individual--goes, that is exactly where there is made place for another oak--or another man!
The vast difference it then makes whether a being has corporeal character or no corporeal character becomes obvious; and we must sincerely wonder how an Aristotelian, and an Aristotelian with such a theory of individuation, could really manage to assimilate the dogma of an immortal human soul, a dogma firmly established in the Church at that time.
If any created beings should exist at all without corporeal attributes (that is, beings who are pure forms, for instance "pure intelligences"), then the possibility of a duplication in the case of such beings must absolutely be excluded.
Let us take an example: the angels were often conceived of as incorporeal, as sort of pure spirits. Theoretically, then, there should be no possibility whatsoever for two such beings to exist side by side as "two individuals of the same form", or shall we say two "brothers of the same family", as we think of "brothers" and "families". In fact, in order to exist at all those two angels would have to differ from each other as, for instance, forma querci differs from forma betulae, or as forma hominis differs from forma simiae, if you don"t mind the choice of example.
Not that there need be any lack of individuality in those pure forms, as far as Thomas's theory goes. Matter was described as the principle of individuation, it is true. But it is not the condition of individuality. For the problem of individuality is not the same as the problem of individuation.
It is not true that the separate substance is not one single being and a certain individual; otherwise it would not have a certain function.[1]
Only individuation--which is a restriction of individuality--implies that limitation known by all normal individual beings.
But what now is Thomas's conception of the individual being we call man, the real object of our anthropological study? Concerning that being he is clear and does not waver: man finds his reality and his life in one thing only; that is the perfect union of a body and a soul, the most intimate combination of primary matter and substantial form. The soul and the body complete each other and permeate each other. Thomas is very close here to Aristotle, and very far from Plato. To him, a human soul united with a human body is the most natural thing in the world.
There is no reason whatsoever to represent that union of the soul with physical matter as an unnatural or in any way undignified state, as Plato had tended to do. Thomas's vision of the destiny of the human soul here below is not the sad one which Plato in the Republic could only compare to that of the sea god Glaucus, whose dignified figure could hardly be recognized any longer under the grimy accretions of seaweed and hideous reptiles. No, to Thomas it is not necessarily the body that mars the beauty of the soul. According to his anthropology, the soul certainly does not resent its union with the body. On the contrary, it could not perform a single one of its activities without the precious aid it receives every moment from that body.
So that blessed "principle of individuation"--the materia signata--seen with the Dominican philosopher's eyes is far from being an unworthy thing. The existence of a full human being is willed by God. The individual is in accordance with the Creator's original plan.
On the other hand, the human individual is certainly not sufficient in himself. He, too, must find his greater unit. Social life is God's perfect plan for the realization of human happiness. A solitary individual will soon find himself cut off from both the material and the spiritual blessings necessary in order that he may reach the goal his Creator has set for him.
But, above all, do not believe that Thomas is likely to let the individual be swallowed up by the society, find his only goal in it, the individual existing merely for the sake of the society. Notice rather the interesting viewpoint this, shall we say, medieval individualist adopts, when he evaluates those two units, one placed beside the other:
Man naturally becomes member of a group (pars multitudinis), and the purpose is that he may be assured the means of living well. He needs this assistance for two reasons: First, in order that he may obtain the elementary necessities of life. This he does in the domestic circle of which he is a part. Every man receives from his parents life, nourishment, and education. And the reciprocal aid of the family members facilitates the mutual provision of the necessities of life. But there is also a second reason why the individual is helped by the group of which he is a part, and in which alone he finds his adequate well-being, and this is that he may not only live, but live the good life, which he is enabled to do by the opportunities of social intercourse. Thus civil society aids the individual in obtaining the material necessities, by uniting, in the same city, a great number of crafts, which could not be so united in the same family. And civil society also assists him in the moral.[2]
It is an old and very important question in the history of ideas, "Does the individual exist for the sake of his community, or does the community exist for the sake of the individual?" In the passage above, Thomas does not leave much doubt as to which of the two primarily serves and which is primarily being served.
But does he really mean that all those various functions carried out by the community have just one aim, the well-being of the individual? And one more pointed question: Is this idea of a definite priority of the individual over the community a principle which has been generally accepted by scholasticism? Is it even a characteristic of the Middle Ages as a whole? If that is true--or at least partially true--then something new must have developed in the consciousness of mankind.
If Thomas has such ideas, they are hardly part of the patrimony handed directly down to him from his master Aristotle. For to Aristotle the state is still an end in itself. The end of the individual is simply subordinated to that higher end. In other words, Aristotle is still an ancient Greek. In his opinion, the virtue above all virtues is the civic virtue. To increase that and to be first and foremost a good citizen, is the prime duty of man.
But let us again quote Thomas Aquinas:
The purpose of the larger group should be the same as that of the individual man.[3]
That does not seem to be far from Dante's direct statement:
For the citizens do not exist for the sake of their consuls. And the people does not exist for the sake of the king.[4]
On the contrary, those representatives of the great community exist for the purpose of administering to the individuals of which that community is composed!
In the ethics of scholastic philosophy this principle is taken to apply to all collective groups. The same sacred duty rests upon the family (domus), the village (vicus), the city (civitas), and the province (provincia)--or the kingdom (regnum), if we keep to Dante's terms. They must know that every man has an inviolable individuality and a personal destiny. The collective group is there simply to help him realize his happiness as an individual. And this rule is not different for the religious groups: the parish, the church, the bishopric, and finally the whole Catholic Church. They all have one raison d"être. Whether or not they are to be justified in their existence depends on the answer to this question: Do they accomplish any good for their members?
This previously unheard-of prestige of the individual is something very legitimate. But it has come to the Middle Ages from one single source: Christianity. For it is only in Christianity that each intelligent creature possesses a position of unique responsibility towards its Creator. In fact, creation--an unknown phenomenon to philosophical paganism of any kind--is always a creation of the individual. Nothing whatsoever in the collective unit (even in its most sacred position before God) could ever be compared to that sanctuary of a unique dialogue which the individual consciousness is privileged to enjoy with the Father.
Notes: