Divine Simplicity and a Trinitarian God
In theology, the doctrine of divine simplicity says that God is without parts. The general idea of divine simplicity can be stated in this way: the being of God is identical to the "attributes" of God. In other words, such characteristics as omnipresence, goodness, truth, eternity, etc. are identical to God's being, not qualities that make up that being, nor abstract entities inhering in God as in a substance. Varieties of the doctrine may be found in Jewish, Christian, and Muslim philosophical theologians, especially during the height of scholasticism, though the doctrine's origins may be traced back to ancient Greek thought, finding apotheosis in Plotinus' Enneads as the Simplex. [source]
Divine Simplicity is a concept that is often trotted out, particularly in relation to cosmological arguments, causality and the beginning of the universe. The idea is that nothing simpler can be thought of than God. Let's set the context.
I recently said:
One thing that could be said for such cosmological arguments is if you can argue that God is necessary, then why not the universe? In fact, on Ockahm's Razor, this is more simple.
Necessary God + Universe vs Necessary universe
Why can the universe not be necessary (and that's granting the philosophical coherence of the term necessary, which is rather up for grabs)?
To which the reply, from a Christian commenter (our newly arrived TJT), was:
The reason that something outside the universe had to cause the universe to exist is that the universe cannot cause itself to exist. When we go back to the first cause, that cause cannot be the universe itself. The idea that the universe is necessary is not simpler. I am not sure what you think simple is. It is not simpler to imagine a universe that has no cause than a universe that has a cause.
How is necessity a incoherent term? For certain things to be, there must be conditions or facts necessary for them to be. Without necessity, we could not come to any conclusion about things. This is foundational to logic. That some this are contingent but not necessary is also something that is necessary to logic. Somethings must be necessary but other things not necessarily so.
For there to be things, there must be necessary things. The simplest thing is that there is one necessary thing from which all contingencies have their dependence. That things cannot be the things themselves. The simplest thing we can conceive of is God. If you can think of something simpler, let me know. If I see something that has the appearance of design, the simplest thing is to believe that there is a designer. This is how we would apply Ockham's razor. It does not follow that the designer itself must be simpler than the idea that something designed had a designer. I do not have to explain the designer.
Alvin Plantinga explains it this way,
‘Now suppose we return to Dawkins’ argument for the claim that theism is monumentally improbable. As you recall, the reason Dawkins gives is that God would have to be enormously complex, and hence enormously improbable (‘God, or any intelligent, decision-making calculating agent, is complex, which is another way of saying improbable’). What can be said for this argument?
‘Not much. First, is God complex? According to much classical theology (Thomas Aquinas, for example) God is simple, and simple in a very strong sense, so that in him there is no distinction of thing and property, actuality and potentiality, essence and existence, and the like. Some of the discussions of divine simplicity get pretty complicated, not to say arcane. (It isn’t only Catholic theology that declares God simple; according to the Belgic Confession, a splendid expression of Reformed Christianity, God is ‘a single and simple spiritual being.’) So first, according to classical theology, God is simple, not complex.
‘More remarkable, perhaps, is that according to Dawkins’ own definition of complexity, God is not complex. According to his definition (set out in The Blind Watchmaker), something is complex if it has parts that are ‘arranged in a way that is unlikely to have arisen by chance alone.’ But of course God is a spirit, not a material object at all, and hence has no parts. A fortiori (as philosophers like to say) God doesn’t have parts arranged in ways unlikely to have arisen by chance. Therefore, given the definition of complexity Dawkins himself proposes, God is not complex.
‘So first, it is far from obvious that God is complex. But second, suppose we concede, at least for purposes of argument, that God is complex. Perhaps we think the more a being knows, the more complex it is; God, being omniscient, would then be highly complex. Perhaps so; still, why does Dawkins think it follows that God would be improbable? Given materialism and the idea that the ultimate objects in our universe are the elementary particles of physics, perhaps a being that knew a great deal would be improbable—how could those particles get arranged in such a way as to constitute a being with all that knowledge? Of course we aren’t given materialism. Dawkins is arguing that theism is improbable; it would be dialectically deficient in excelsis to argue this by appealing to materialism as a premise. Of course it is unlikely that there is such a person as God if materialism is true; in fact materialism logically entails that there is no such person as God; but it would be obviously question-begging to argue that theism is improbable because materialism is true.’
I don't want to sidetrack the discussion here with one about necessity. There are many problems with the notion of necessity. Here you can see issues with God as necessary. Indeed, the Stanford Encyclopedia has a number of different articles pertaining to ideas about necessity and causality and the issues therewith - go look through the maze of entries.
Let me remind you of the pertinent quote:
"For there to be things, there must be necessary things. The simplest thing is that there is one necessary thing from which all contingencies have their dependence. That things cannot be the things themselves. The simplest thing we can conceive of is God. If you can think of something simpler, let me know."
Again, for the SEP's treatment of the subject, you can see their entry here. Plantinga himself is more tricky than the commenter might realise, because he actually refutes divine simplicity as it is commonly argued:
...[L]et us turn to the most important and most perplexing denial of divine composition: the claim that there is no complexity of properties in him and that he is identical with his nature and each of his properties. God isn't merely good, on this view; he is goodness, or his goodness, or goodness itself. He isn't merely alive; He is identical with his life. He doesn't merely have a nature or essence; he just is that nature, is the very same thing as it is. And this is a hard saying. There are two difficulties, one substantial and the other truly monumental. In the first place if God is identical with each of his properties, then each of his properties is identical with each of his properties, so that God has but one property. This seems flatly incompatible with the obvious fact that God has several properties; he has both power and mercifulness, say, neither of which is identical with the other. In the second place, if God is identical with each of his properties, then, since each of his properties is a property, he is a property—a self-exemplifying property. Accordingly God has just one property: himself. This view is subject to a difficulty both obvious and overwhelming. No property could have created the world; no property could be omniscient, or, indeed, know anything at all. If God is a property, then he isn't a person but a mere abstract object; he has no knowledge, awareness, power, love or life. So taken, the simplicity doctrine seems an utter mistake. (Does God Have a Nature?, pg. 47)
What Plantinga tries to do is rescue simplicity in how he defines properties. In this way, given merely matter as the necessary universe would be, there are no abstracts. These eventually get interpreted out of simple matter by human minds, or other conceivers out there, but the universe really could be argued to be simpler than a whole set of abstracta, as God could well be.
Of course, trying to claim matter is more simple than abstracta or vice versa is kind of pointless, as it's like comparing apples and love. As for divine simplicity and God's properties, as it is often said, no property could have created the world; no property could be omniscient, or, indeed, know anything at all. If you want God to be the uncaused cause, he cannot be comprised of parts, but if you want to believe in a personal thing called God, and not an abstract principle, then like Plantinga says, you have to reject the former position.
I just struggle to see how Christian theologians, philosophers and apologists argue on the one hand for divine simplicity, and then in the same breath confess their Christianity such that they adhere to trinitarianism - the idea that God is inexplicably divided or existent in three parts.
Of course, the whole idea of the Holy Trinity is incoherent. I have written several pieces on it: The Holy Trinity Is Incoherent #1 and The Holy Trinity Is Incoherent #2 – Penal Substitution Theory. The idea is rather nonsensical to the end that most Christian thinkers are mysterians; that is, they believe the idea must be true, they just don't quite know how.
So we have a real mystery that explains how something with more bolt-ons can be simpler than something with fewer bolt-ons (or parts, or essences, or modes, or... it just depends what heresy you are trying to avoid). Indeed, by avoiding the language of parts, this is where the confusion and necessary mysterianism arises. "Parts" just gets labelled as something else even more nebulous.
The commenter then stated:
How is a single God simpler than an trinitarian God? Why would this be simpler? I do not think you understand what simpler means. Obviously, Plantinga is correct. We cannot argue that simplicity simply means less of something. 3 is neither simpler or more complicated than 1.
The problem with this is that it seems to go nuclear. The commenter is throwing out any intuitive notion of complexity without clearly stating what simplicity or complexity is. If I looked at an equation, and it had, say, two unknown terms and four known terms, and then looked at another equation that had a million unknown terms and two million known terms, then the latter would universally be seen as more complex. The more idea, things, variables or whatever you add to a system of ideas, the more complex it becomes. Apply this to any context and you get the same issue.
Let's look at a definition for complexity:
Complexity characterises the behaviour of a system or model whose components interact in multiple ways and follow local rules, meaning there is no reasonable higher instruction to define the various possible interactions.[1]
The stem of the word "complexity" - complex - combines the Latin roots com (meaning "together") and plex (meaning "woven"). Contrast "complicated" where plic (meaning "folded") refers to many layers. A complex system is thereby characterised by its inter-dependencies, whereas a complicated system is characterised by its layers.
Complexity is generally used to characterize something with many parts where those parts interact with each other in multiple ways, culminating in a higher order of emergencegreater than the sum of its parts. Just as there is no absolute definition of "intelligence", there is no absolute definition of "complexity"; the only consensus among researchers is that there is no agreement about the specific definition of complexity. However, "a characterization of what is complex is possible".[2] The study of these complex linkages at various scales is the main goal of complex systems theory.
And simplicity:
The concept of simplicity has been related to in the field of epistemology and philosophy of science.
According to Occam's razor, all other things being equal, the simplest theory is most likely true. In other words, simplicity is a meta-scientific criterion by which scientists evaluate competing theories.
A distinction is often made[by whom?] between two senses of simplicity: syntactic simplicity (the number and complexity of hypotheses), and ontological simplicity (the number and complexity of things postulated). These two aspects of simplicity are often referred to as elegance and parsimony respectively.[2]
It seems, unless the commenter wants to redefine the terms (which he did not do), that the Trinitarian God fails the simplicity test against a unitarian God. Christians do attempt to make sense of it, but as with this offering, you come away equally nonplussed, especially since competing models are given with no sense of clarity.
Plantinga actually has a number of objections to divine simplicity, as does William Lane Craig. I find it interesting when the big names in Christian philosophy come out against a Christian position, and so many Christians conveniently don't hear them or ignore them in a true artful cherry picking. I was going to paraphrase and rewrite the below, but I'll let this entry on Divine Simplicity do the work:
Plantinga gives three arguments against divine simplicity. First, he argues our concepts can apply univocally to God, even if our language to describe God is limited, fragmentary, halting, and inchoate.[7] He argues that when we have a concept of something like being a horse, we know what it is for something to be a horse. The concept applies to an object if that object is, in fact, a horse. If none of our concepts apply to God, then it is sheer confusion to say there is such a person as God, and yet God does not have properties such as wisdom, being the creator, and being almighty. In fact, God would not have any properties for which we have concepts. God would not even have properties such as existing, being self-identical, or even being the referent of the term 'God.' If God transcends human experience, then we cannot say something univocal about God, since such a claim presupposes that we know what it means to transcend human experience, and that it applies to God.
The claim that God can only be described analogically is, as Plantinga describes, a double-edged sword. If we cannot use univocal language to describe God and argue against simplicity, we are equally handicapped when it comes to the arguments for divine simplicity. If we cannot rely on our usual modes of inference in reasoning about God, we cannot argue for the conclusion that God is not distinct from his properties. Plantinga concludes "This way of thinking begins in a pious and commendable concern for God's greatness and majesty and augustness, but it ends in agnosticism and in incoherence."[8]
Plantinga also gives three criticisms of the doctrine of metaphysical simplicity directly, stating that it is exceedingly hard to grasp or construe the doctrine, and it is difficult to see why anyone would be inclined to accept it. First, the Thomist doctrine of simplicity states that all abstract objects are identical with God's essence and hence God himself. Plantinga states that this seems to clash with the obvious fact that the property of being a horse is distinct from the property of being a turkey and both are distinct from God and his essence.[9]
Secondly, Plantinga argues, if one restricts the realm of abstract objects that are identical with God to only the properties that God exemplifies, the doctrine is still problematic. Metaphysical simplicity states that God has no accidental (i.e. contingent) properties. Yet, it clearly does seem that God has accidental properties such as having created Adam, and knowing that Adam sinned. Some of God's characteristics characterize him in every possible world and some do not.[10] Plantinga also argues that the conflation of God's actuality with his potentiality inherits all the problems of the essence-accident complexity and is furthermore vexed in its own right. Just as it seems there are characteristics that God has but could have lacked, it also seems the case that there are characteristics that God lacks but could have had. No doubt God has not created all the persons he will create. If so, there is at least one individual essence such that God does not now have, but will have the characteristic of causing that essence to be instantiated. If so, God has potentiality with respect to that characteristic.[11]
Plantinga's third critique challenges the very heart of simplicity. Metaphysical simplicity claims that there is no divine composition, meaning that there is no complexity of properties in God and that he is identical with his nature and each of his properties. There are two difficulties with this view. First, if God is identical with each of his properties, then each of his properties is identical with each of his other properties, so God has only one property. This flies in the face of the idea that God has both power and mercifulness, neither of which is identical with the other. Secondly, if God is identical with his properties, then, since each of God's properties is a property, it follows that God is a property as well. In this case, God has just one property: himself. The problem is that properties do not in and of themselves cause anything. No property could have created the world, and no property could know anything at all. If God is a property, then he isn't a person but a mere abstract object, having no power, life, love, or even awareness.[12]
Craig calls property simplicity "philosophically and theologically unacceptable." He also states that divine simplicity is open to powerful objections. On the doctrine of divine simplicity, God is absolutely similar in all possible worlds. Since the statement "God knows x" is equivalent to "x is true," it becomes inexplicable why those worlds vary if in every one God knows, loves, and wills the same things.[5] Morris states that it is an idea whose implications are difficult to defend and whose advantages can be had in other ways. It is also an idea whose motivation, under close scrutiny, is not so convincing.[13] John S. Feinberg concludes: "These philosophical problems plus the biblical considerations raised earlier lead me to conclude that simplicity is not one of the divine attributes. This doesn't mean that God has physical parts, but that the implications of the doctrine of metaphysical simplicity are too problematic to maintain the doctrine."[14]
Part of the problem is the poorly defined concept of divine simplicity in the first place, part also being the abstract nature of God and the sheer mystery supposedly involved in understanding him. The end result is that the divine simplicity argument often looks like a mere assertion, and appeal to something that is quite a murky concept at best.
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