Part 6

FOOTNOTES:

See Appendix on Bishop Berkeley's Idealism.

First Principles, ch. iii. § 20.

Ibid., § 26.

VI.

EVOLUTION AS THE REDISTRIBUTION OF MATTER AND MOTION

Assuming the process of evolution to be a fact, we have inquired what is the value of that fact, what significance it has for man as a moral being, anxious to direct his life in accordance with the best lights he can obtain. In our attempts to draw any inference from the facts of evolution as to the moral government of the universe, we have always found ourselves ultimately confronted by the notice--The Real is Unknowable. Obviously, if "the ultimate of ultimates," the Real Power or Force, of which all things and beings are manifestations, is unknowable, we cannot know whether it cares or does not care for what is true or good. But if the Real is Unknowable, then the knowledge which we do possess is not knowledge of the real, and consequently all our science is unreal knowledge; the theory of evolution is a system of delusive inferences from unreal facts. That, however, is a thing which we could not believe. Doubtless our knowledge is small compared with our ignorance. Doubtless there is much which the human mind could not understand without becoming more than human. Doubtless, also, every addition to our knowledge involves a readjustment and correction of our previous inferences; and a considerable addition, such as the theory of evolution was, causes a considerable change in our conception of the universe and its laws. But all these admissions cannot compel us to admit that science is wholly unreal knowledge, or that evolution is an entirely unreal process. We sought, accordingly, to show that we have some, if only partial, knowledge of the real, that that knowledge is not wholly inferential, but that so far as it is inferred it is inferred from real facts, the reality of which is directly apprehended in the common experience of mankind.

As a matter of fact, those writers who proclaim the unknowability of the Real, when they are writing as philosophers, abandon it when they are engaged in science. When they are working out the theory of evolution, they take it for granted that the process of evolution is a reality, that the common experience of mankind is trustworthy to some extent, and that to that extent the Real is knowable and known. They assure us that, though the knowledge we have is not knowledge of the Real, it is just the same for us as if it were--if the Real could enter into our consciousness, we really should not know the difference. "Thus then we may resume, with entire confidence, those realistic conceptions which philosophy at first sight seems to dissipate."

On examination, however, it turns out that the entire confidence which is thus restored to the reality of material things is not extended to the reality of those ideals of the good, the beautiful, and the holy which play their part in the lives of men and in the evolution of mankind--or not to all of those ideals.

Now, it is scarcely to be hoped that a theory which begins by ignoring certain facts in the common experience of mankind, or by denying their reality, can end in a satisfactory explanation of them. Either it will be consistent and proclaim them to be illusions, or it will be inconsistent and quietly include them from time to time as it goes on--in which case the explanation it gives of them will be no explanation. Thus, for instance, as we have already argued, the Optimistic interpretation of evolution, professing to exhibit the Ideal of morality as one of the ultimate consequences of the redistribution of matter and motion, ends by denying any difference between what is and what ought to be, and thus reduces the moral ideal to a mere illusion. The Pessimist, on the other hand, insisting on the reality, and to some extent the supremacy of the moral ideal, confesses his inability to explain its validity as being due to evolution: the fact that it has been evolved does not account for its validity, because the tendency to evil has been also evolved, but is not, therefore, to be yielded to.

The object of this chapter is to examine the hypothesis that the process of evolution is nothing but a perpetual redistribution of matter and motion, and to show that the hypothesis cannot explain, and as a matter of fact does not explain, all the facts which it is framed to account for.

The theory of evolution is an attempt--one of many attempts that men have made--to explain the process by which the totality of things has come to be what it is. It differs from most other attempts in that it endeavours to give a scientific explanation of the process, and that consequently it does not profess to go back to the beginning or to discover the origin of the process.

The nature of scientific "explanation" is well understood by men of science (in England, at least), and has been made familiar to the non-scientific world by John Stuart Mill. An event is scientifically "explained" when it is shown to be a case of a general law; a law is "explained" when it is shown to come under some more general law. In other words, the business of science is to show that the thing under examination always happens (or tends to happen) under certain circumstances which science can formulate with more or less exactness. But how or why the thing should happen thus, science does not undertake to explain: "what is called explaining one law of nature by another, is but substituting one mystery for another; and does nothing to render the general course of nature other than mysterious: we can no more assign a why for the more extensive laws than for the partial ones." It is only "minds not habituated to accurate thinking" which imagine that the laws are the causes of the events which happen in accordance with them, "that the law of general gravitation, for example, causes the fall of bodies to the earth." It may be a law of science, a perfectly true statement, that the phenomenon B always follows the phenomenon A; but that statement, true as it is, is not the cause of B. That A is always followed by B is demonstrated by science. Why it should be followed by B is as mysterious as magic--as mysterious as that the waving of the magician's wand should be immediately followed by the rising of a palace from the ground. How the one thing can follow the other, is no part of science's business to explain.

Science, therefore, is essentially descriptive: with ever-increasing accuracy it describes things and the order in which they happen. Evolution, then, as a scientific theory, is also purely descriptive: it describes the way in which things have come to be what we see them to be, the process by which the totality of things has come to be what it is. But when the purely scientific and descriptive part of the work is done, when science has formulated the order of the events which have led up to the existing state of the universe, when the process of evolution has been described, there still remain the questions which science refused even to try to answer, and there also remain other questions more vital to science. There arises the question, In what sense is evolution a real process? do the laws of science exist only in the minds of men of science? is the process of evolution merely the description which is given of it (as according to some thinkers a thing is only the sensations which we have of it), or is it something more?

Obviously the question whether evolution is a real process, whether there is any reality in science, is one which cannot be answered, either in the affirmative or in the negative, without some idea of what "reality" means, of what the "real" is. "What is the meaning of the word real? This is the question which underlies every metaphysical inquiry; and the neglect of it is the remaining cause of the chronic antagonisms of metaphysicians." Before we are logically entitled to say that evolution is a real process, we must answer the question, "What is the essence, the ultimate reality of things? who or what is the Being that is manifested in 'all thinking things, all objects of all thought'?"

Now, to these questions, as to the Being and Becoming of the universe, science has nothing to say. Science does not even afford the materials for an answer to them, any more than to those other questions as to how or why things should happen in the way which science describes. Science describes things, but does not undertake to prove that things exist. Science is organised common sense, and common sense takes it for granted that things exist. Having made this assumption, science proceeds to investigate with scientific exactness the order in which events succeed one another and co-exist with one another, within the range of direct observation; and infers that, even when they are beyond the range of direct observation, they continue to occur in the same order of sequence and co-existence. But here again science refuses to have anything to do with any metaphysical questions as to how or why things should thus occur. All sorts of conjectures may be made, and have been made, to explain why B should follow A, or co-exist with it. But science is not pledged to any of them. The only thing she undertakes to show is the fact of the sequence or co-existence; and this she can do without assuming the truth of any of these conjectures. Indeed, the progress which science has made is largely due to the fact that she has steadily declined to have anything to do with such conjectures--having found out by experience that they simply distract her from her proper business of observing with the utmost exactness what actually does take place. It may be that A in some mysterious and wholly inexplicable way "produces" B, that is to say in technical phraseology, is "the efficient cause" or "mechanical cause" of B. It may be that the sequence of B upon A is a volition of the Being which is manifested in all thinking things, in all objects of all thought. Science cannot prove, and will not even discuss, either suggestion: she confines herself to the assertion that, as a matter of careful and exact observation, B does follow A. Whether we call A an efficient cause or not, matters not to science: call it so or refuse to call it so, the fact once established by science, that B follows A, remains. The theory of efficient or mechanical causes is doubtless of importance, but not to science. If it is proved to be false, not a single fact of science is shaken.

The mechanical theory may be true or may be false, but in either case it is a metaphysical theory. If science is descriptive--descriptive of the uniform succession and co-existence of facts--then science no more proves the mechanical theory to be true than it proves the volitional theory to be true. Both are theories as to why facts should succeed one another in the order described by science; and science does not undertake to prove the truth of such theories, nor does she wait for them to be proved or disproved.

Many men of science, however, are also philosophers, and hold, as they are fully entitled to hold, that the mechanical theory is the true interpretation of nature. Now, "mechanics is the science of motion; we can assign as its object: to describe completely and in the simplest manner the movements which occur in nature." On the mechanical theory, therefore, "the object of all science is to reduce the phenomena of nature to forms of motion, and to describe these completely and in the simplest manner ... the only complete description is that afforded by a mathematical formula, in which the constants are supplied by observation. This permits us to calculate those features or phases of phenomena which are hidden from our observation in space or in time." This, we need hardly add, is in agreement with Mr. Herbert Spencer's view of the theory of evolution as a description of the process of the redistribution of matter and motion.

It seems, then, that according to this particular metaphysical theory, which maintains the mechanical explanation of nature to be the true one, the object of all science is to describe (with mathematical accuracy, where possible) the movements of things in space. But science is universal; evolution extends to the whole cosmic process. Therefore, the only things with which science has to do, or which are factors in the cosmic process, are things moving in space.

As a metaphysical argument this theory seems to us unsatisfactory. It converts, simply and illegitimately, the proposition sanctioned by common sense, that material things are real, into the proposition opposed to common sense, that all real things are material. It assumes, apparently unconsciously and certainly without proof, that the only things capable of scientific description are movements in space, the only laws in the universe mechanical laws.

Historically, material things were the first to be studied and described with scientific exactness. It is only natural, therefore, that the methods and assumptions which have been employed with conspicuous success by the physical sciences should be extended, tentatively at least, elsewhere. It is equally natural that protests should be raised, and the extension proclaimed by philosophers to be illegitimate--"impoverishing faith without enriching knowledge." "To regard the course of the world as the development of some blind force which works on according to universal laws, devoid of insight and freedom, devoid of interest in good and evil, are we to consider this unjustifiable generalisation of a concept, valid in its own sphere, as the higher truth?"

It is not, however, likely that science will drop a generalisation, however "unjustifiable" in metaphysics, if it works in practice. The question is whether it does work; and that is plainly a question of fact, not a question of metaphysics. We want to know therefore, first, whether things moving in space are the only things with which we are acquainted in common experience; and, next, whether all the changes which take place within the range of scientific observation are or can be explained by the laws of mechanics.

It is clear that, if the mechanical theory of science and of evolution is to be successfully maintained, both these questions must be answered in the affirmative. It is equally clear that, if we confine ourselves to the actual facts, both questions must be answered in the negative.

Thoughts, ideas, conceptions, sensations, feelings, emotions are things of which we have experience at every moment of our waking lives; and none of them are things which occupy space or move in space. A thought is not a thing which can be measured by a foot-rule, as things in space can be; the greatness of an idea is not one which measures so many yards by so many; a conception has no cubic contents; a toothache cannot be put in a pair of scales, nor can any process of chemical analysis be applied to hope or fear. We find ourselves, therefore, in this dilemma: if the mechanical theory is true, and science can deal only with things moving in space, then psychology and sociology are not sciences, and their subject-matter never can be made amenable to scientific treatment. On the other hand, if psychology is a science, then science deals with things which do not move in space.

We submit that psychology is a science, that our sensations, emotions, ideas, etc., can be observed, and can be described scientifically, that is to say, that their uniform sequences and co-existences can be stated with accuracy and formulated as laws. We submit further that our definition of science should be based on facts, and not framed to suit a metaphysical theory. A satisfactory definition of science must include all the sciences. The definition put forward in the interests of the mechanical theory excludes arbitrarily the mental and moral sciences, and implies that their subject-matter is beyond the power of science to deal with. The exclusion and the implication are consequent upon the suggested limitation of science to things moving in space, and are of the essence of the mechanical theory. Both the exclusion and the implication are unnecessary if we adhere to the older conception of science, as it occurs in Mill, which claims for science all phenomena of which the sequences and co-existences can be observed, described, and formulated as laws.

What we have said with regard to science applies also of necessity to Evolution. If Evolution is simply the continual redistribution of matter and motion, if matter and motion are the only things subject to evolution, then consciousness and conscience are not subject to evolution. On the other hand, if they too have had and are having their evolution, then the redistribution of matter and motion does not sum up the process of evolution, and is not a correct statement of the process. If it were an induction drawn from a consideration of all the facts of evolution, it would cover them all. But it does not: it excludes a large class of important facts, because their exclusion is demanded in the interests of a particular metaphysical theory--the mechanical theory. It implies that the operation of evolution is confined to a limited set of facts. If the implication is false, then evolution is a bigger thing than the mere redistribution of matter and motion.

The way in which it is usually attempted to force the mechanical theory to square with the facts, or rather to cut the facts to fit the theory, is to point to the connection between the mind and the brain, and to proclaim the consequent dependence of mind on matter. Now, that there is a connection between mind and brain is certain. What the connection is exactly is as yet uncertain. But the fact that two things co-exist, are connected with one another and vary together, does not prove that the one thing is the other. On the contrary, it postulates that the two things, though related, are different. The mechanical theory either commits the fallacy of mistaking connected things for identical things, or it fails to prove the very thing necessary for its justification, viz. that thoughts, emotions, etc., are things occupying space and moving in space. The chemical and physiological changes which take place in the brain are movements in space. But it does not follow that the corresponding pains or ideas float about in the air or move from one point in space to another.

Further, as a metaphysical theory, this identification of matter with mind is a double-edged weapon: it cuts both ways: if mind is matter, matter is mind; if mind is thinking matter, then matter is latent thought; and thought is consequently exhibited not as being the last product of evolution, but as a factor in it from the beginning. But this identity of mind and matter is a purely metaphysical speculation: it is a conjecture to explain how it is that two phenomena can co-exist in the way in which they are observed to do. Such conjectures science does not require: she does not undertake to explain why things are, but to describe--if possible with mathematical exactness--the order of their sequence or co-existence. This function science can discharge equally well whether the changes of consciousness are or are not supposed to be movements in space. Metaphysicians may argue the point; in the meantime science is describing and formulating the laws of mind and endeavouring to correlate the changes of consciousness with the physical changes of the brain and the nervous system. The mechanical theory neither helps nor hinders science in her work.