In the eleventh and twelfth centuries, the Latin-speaking world possessed a limited set of source material. For most of this period, philosophers possessed Aristotle’s Categories and De interpretatione, Porphyry’s Isagoge, and Boethius’ commentaries on these works. These texts were supplemented by Boethius’ introductory handbooks on logic, his theological treatise, and a few other minor sources of logic and metaphysics from other later Roman authors. It is little wonder that philosophy in this period focused heavily upon logic. And, indeed, it was in treatments of logic that we find the most sustained early medieval discussions of universals.
There was a lively debate in the later part of the eleventh century (if not earlier) over the subject matter of logic (cf. Marenbon 2004:28-30). Some thought that logic dealt with things (res); others argued that logic is about utterances (voces). It is not clear that the early advocates of the in voce approach to logic inferred any metaphysical theses from their stance, let alone the specific thesis that universals are merely words. (For that matter, the in re approach to logic did not commit one to the existence of universal things.) The thesis that only utterances are universal has been attributed to a few shadowy figures from the last decades of the eleventh century, most notoriously Roscelin; yet, so little of Roscelin’s work survives that it is difficult to determine what he really believed (Picavet 1911; Kluge 1976; Jolivet 1992:114-128). We do know that Roscelin’s brilliant pupil, Peter Abelard, developed a series ofremarkable arguments against all the main ‘‘realist’’ positions of his day (Logica ingredientibus 1,10.816.18, [trans. Spade 1994:29-37]; Logica “nostrorum” 515.10-521.17; cf. Tweedale 1976:95-129; King 2004:6672). Abelard concluded from these investigations that universality belonged to words alone.
A word of caution is in order. A ‘‘realist’’ in Abelard’s sense of the word is not necessarily committed to the existence of a thing that is entirely present in many individuals simultaneously. Abelard applies the label ‘‘realist’’ to any position that identifies the universal with a real thing (res), including theories that identify the universal with an individual or with a collection of individuals. For this reason, Abelard will call some theories ‘‘realist,’’ which a contemporary metaphysician might prefer to call ‘‘antirealist’’ or ‘‘nominalist.’’
According to Abelard, the dominant realist theories of his day were ‘‘material essence’’ realism, and several theories that defined universals in terms of ‘‘indifference.’’
Material essence realism was the view that universal forms constituted the material essence of individual things. The generic form animal and the differentia irrational constituted the material essence of Browny the donkey. The very same animal and rational constituted the material essence of Socrates. Socrates and Plato shared the very same material essence (animal + rational, or human), but were differentiated by accidental forms.
As for the indifference theories, one version claimed that the universal thing is the mereological sum (collectio) of all those individuals that are indifferent to one another in some respect (Freddoso 1978; Henry 1984:235-259). A second version was the identity theory, which asserted that the universal is identical to the individual insofar as that individual is indifferent from other individuals in some respect. A third version, status realism, held that individuals are indifferent in some respect because they share a status, that is, they agree in being f. This version of the indifference theory was a form of realism because its advocates thought that a status was a thing.
Abelard reported that his old teacher William of Champeaux initially subscribed to material essence Realism. Abelard’s criticisms of the theory forced William to give up material essence realism and propose, instead, the identity theory. As Abelard tells the tale, he reduced William’s second theory to absurdity, and having been humiliated twice in a row, William gave up the teaching of logic altogether. But others were apparently persuaded that some version of the indifference theory was correct. We possess a treatise, possibly by Walter of Mortagne or one of his students, which defends status realism (Dijs 1990:93-113). And it seems that several philosophers were attracted to revised versions of the collectio theory. For example, Gilbert of Poitiers and his followers associated the universal with a group of absolutely similar individual forms (Haring 1966:269 and 312; cf. Martin 1983:xli-xlii). More strikingly, the anonymous author of De generibus et speciebus defended a sophisticated version of the collectio theory, in part by responding to some of Abelard’s objections (although he does not explicitly mention Abelard) (§§ 85-143, [Cousin 1836:524-537]).
Abelard also tried to distance himself from Roscelin’s position, which he deemed to be too crude, by drawing a distinction between an utterance (vox) and a word (sermo). The utterance is the physical air insofar as it is merely considered as that which is emitted from the mouth. A vox could not possess the property of universality. The word is that same air insofar as it is the bearer of meaning. Many words can have the property of universality, for they are predicable of many words.
Abelard felt compelled to account for the semantic properties of words. In particular, he tried to account for how an utterance acquired a meaning, and hence, became a word, and more specifically, how some utterances acquired the property of being predicable of many. As it turned out, universality was not a matter of convention; it had its foundation in nature. Every substance and every form is particular, but there is a sense in which some things are naturally indifferent to one another. Abelard even claimed that Socrates and Plato share a status, that is, they agree in that they are both human, but in contrast to the status realists, Abelard insisted that status is no thing at all (Log. ingr. I, 20.7-9).
World History
