Kelly Nicholson

Body and Soul: The Transcendence of Materialism

1997, Westview Press

reviewed by Jeffrey Stueber

What are little girls made of? "Sugar and spice and everything nice," a common nursery rhyme informs us. What about little boys? "Snips and snails and puppy dog tails," comes the response. These are the questions asked and answered among stories spun by children and for children, but few philosophers have use for them when asking for reasons for believing a world view. What they may ask is, "What are humans made of - molecules and matter and everything nice, or might there be a soul in there somewhere?" Very few philosophers would ever stake their beliefs on whether girls or boys are made of snips, snails, or sugar and spice, but philosophies may be made or broken by any suggestion that man is made of only matter or matter and an immaterial "something" in dualist fashion with matter, no matter how nebulous that immaterial entity may be.

This debate is the subject of Kelly Nicholson who starts off in much the same way I just did. "What sort of thing is a human being," he asks and then expounds on just how we normally engage this rhetorical question that may often pop into our minds. We think of ourselves, at times, as material creatures; often the mention of a human being brings to mind a body and nothing else. Yet, a young woman may speak of her suitor treating her as "nothing but a body." Her complaint is that there is something else in "there," a "me" if you will that he ought to take into account. Yes, mankind sometimes speaks as if it is puzzled by what little girls and boys, and big ones as well, are made of. Nicholson doesn't approach the subject as a Christian, creation scientist, fundamentalist, or anything that may create the illusion he is biased toward dualism. Rather, Nicholson is a seeker of the truth and this makes the path he takes even more interesting. Any path to truth will not necessarily start with medieval philosophy, but cannot go wrong by starting there and seeking to root up as much wisdom as possible. Not surprisingly Nicholson finds a wide array of opinions on this subject. He retrieves for inspection the ideas of ancient Greek philosophers by searching the words of men like Heraclitus, Democritus, and Plato and later goes to Christian philosophers Aquinas and Augustine. Not surprisingly, he finds that the "modern tradition," as he calls it, might be characterized by efforts at either backing up Christianity or arguing against it. With the advent of our modern science, philosophers have tended to see Christianity as outdated and hence Christian ideas like an immaterial soul lack credence. In this frame of history Nicholson casts his search for the veracity or lack thereof of an immaterial soul.

With chapters which describe "the inadequacy of naturalism" and "the inadequacy of materialistic accounts," it's no surprise from one reading ahead that Nicholson finds problems with wholly materialistic accounts of consciousness. This cannot spoil our appreciation of his path through the murky depths of this issue, however, and makes one appreciate the arguments he has to deal with and does deal with. Take for example the objection by humanists like Corliss Lamont who argue that naturalism must be true because losses of a portion of the brain reduce the conscious ability one has. To materialists like them, it would seem that if there would be a soul, then the soul would take over for any loss of brain. Nicholson points out, however, that there is an additional function matter can have, this being transmissive function and uses the analogy of the prism to reveal his point. Perhaps the brain doesn't necessarily originate mental events but rather focuses and directs them as a prism focuses and directs rays of light. Of course, this counter-argument doesn't add anything to evidence for an immaterial soul. Rather it deters arguments against dualism on this ground alone.

There's another argument Nicholson also cleverly deals with.

Dualism entails that mental and physical events are indeed quite dissimilar. For mental events, on this account, are altogether nonmaterial and thus lack the properties of extension and location in space. Physical events, in contrast, are fundamentally spatial. So the question arises, how can two such very unlike events have any sort of causal relationship? If mental events are not materially composed of anything, if they have no material substance, then how can they "get hold" of anything in that other realm?

Nicholson points out that a dissimilarity between two substances does not rule out one being influenced by the other and cites the interaction between head colds and drafts: our body seems to be influenced by drafts which are so dissimilar to the materiality and feel of a head cold. Of course, I advance other arguments for the interaction of the material and nonmaterial, such as the relationship between our brains (the physical) and ideas (nonmaterial mental things). Of course, other nonmaterial realities like gravity affect us and Nicholson does mention gravity, but not quite in the context of using it to rebut the argument just presented. Yet, a draft is a movement of air which may contain viruses and these are most certainly material since the movement of air molecules and viruses are material substances however small. Might the soul be a material substance however undetectable much like a draft may be undetectable until you're caught up in its wake? Or might it be nonmaterial like gravity? Nicholson does not say and has no answer whether the soul is material or immaterial and chooses to let the counter-argument rest.

Nicholson is well read and wise, but occasionally stumbles. Or, to be more precise, he does not offer a proper rebuttal to an argument when the occasion arises. On his chapter on religion and rational inquiry, Nicholson quotes an argument by atheist Anthony Flew who asks what real difference there is between believer and unbeliever. Nicholson mentions a reply by R. M. Hare which states that there is a fundamental difference between believers and unbelievers in the way both read their experiences. Theists and nontheists both have respective bliks which allow them to make different senses of the world. Yet, this argument doesn't impress Nicholson who asks "what exactly is the cognitive difference?" He goes on to cite "what is probably the most promising line of reply," as Nicholson puts it, to Flew's challenge and it turns out to be nothing too entirely different than the blik hypothesis. Hick tells us that believers and unbelievers both have a different view of "the end toward which this world is headed." That's very true but can't tell us if there are cognitive difference and actual differences in how they act. Nicholson might have suggested that, although theists and nontheists both realize the existence of certain moral absolute codes of conduct, according to materialist accounts, they cannot exist. Hence, only the theistic world view accounts for a true picture of reality. He might have also mentioned that as our culture grows more secular, our society becomes more infatuated with personal autonomy as displayed on the pro-death movement, a movement which seems to destroy and endanger than serve a useful purpose.

In the same chapter, Nicholson also lets A. J. Ayer get away with a philosophical snow job over evidence, or lack thereof, for God's existence.

It has been said, Ayer notes, that the seeming regularity of the universe gives us rational evidence that a god exists. But if "God exists" entails only that there is order in nature, then this assertion is really only a claim about nature, which is surely not all that religious types mean it to be. They wish to say, after all, not just that the universe has order, but that it has a creator, and that this creator is a transcendent being who may be known, in some measure, by these outward manifestations, yet who cannot be defined in terms of them.

Ayer believes that this type of analysis applies to any religious belief that involves a being that exists above the empirical world. The notion of a soul is covered by this argument also. In other words, if it isn't verifiable, it can't be real or at least thought of as possibly being real. Flew doesn't think any evidence counts against religious beliefs and he may have a point. But, as several participants in my Society-of-Christian-Philosophers' internet forum have stated, certain evidences do count against theism although many theists may not be able to say quite what evidence would be needed to disprove theism. Atheists like Flew can't say what it would take to disprove atheism and evolution either, but that is another subject. Also, not all experiences are subject to the verification principle but real nevertheless and the verification principle of Flew may presuppose a materialist philosophy which would leave him arguing in a circle: we know only whatever is verifiable is real and thus naturalism is true because religious claims can't be verified, and we know naturalism is true because religious claims are not verifiable and thus only the claims of naturalism remain. Nicholson lists Flew's arguments but does not offer this counter-argument when it is most needed.

I also take exception to Ayer's line of reasoning that suggests that a theist is faulty for arguing from the intricacy of the universe to God's existence. First, modern science has shown the ever increasing fine tuning of life and the universe which suggests a tuner capable of the task, and scientists like Michael Denton and Michael Behe have been successful in revealing this. Second, if we follow Ayer's logic, nobody could ever argue from A to B since any attempt would be really making a claim about A only (e.g. one could not conclude that the existence of cave drawings means humans existed since by saying there are drawings on caves we only make claims about the drawings and not about the designer(s) of those drawings).

Nevertheless, reading Nicholson is worth your while as far as it is a useful book of counter-arguments against materialistic presuppositions. In his concluding chapter he suggests that the world view that must be encouraged is one that "must incorporate some notion of the immaterial as a real and basic element in our conception of reality." We don't know which religion Nicholson falls into here and even if he would describe himself as belonging to any formal religion. He seems to be a mere truth seeker and at least provides a model for those like him who are seeking for truth. The path he follows is certainly useful as a precursor to more philosophical exploration and Christians everywhere would be wise to follow his example.