substance

substance, in the history of Western philosophy, a thing whose existence is independent of that of all other things, or a thing from which or out of which other things are made or in which other things inhere.

Although substance is one of the most important ideas in metaphysics, philosophers disagree about which entities are substances. For Aristotle (384–322 bce), the first philosopher to make substance a central concept in his thought, the best examples of substances (among tangible, visible things) were living organisms. For the Dutch rationalist philosopher Benedict de Spinoza (1632–77), who also gave the concept a central place in his philosophy, there was only one substance, which constitutes the whole of reality. Spinoza held that living organisms are mere “finite modes” of the one (infinite) substance.

If one assumes that Aristotle and Spinoza employed the same concept of substance (Aristotle holding that the best examples of substances were biological organisms, and Spinoza taking the view that the only substance was the whole of reality), then the concept must be very abstract indeed. A suitably broad concept might be set out as follows: a substance is a particular that exists “in its own right”—i.e., a particular thing that could exist independently of other particular things (although it may in fact have been brought into existence by the action of other particular things). But that attempt at explaining the concept of substance raises the following questions: What is the concept of substance opposed to? What sort of particular is not a substance? In other words, what particulars might be said to be incapable of existing independently of other particulars?

Such questions are best answered by giving examples. Some things (if they exist at all) are present only “in” other things: e.g., a smile, a wrinkle, a surface, a hole, a reflection, or a shadow. There is a clear sense in which such items, even if one is willing to grant real existence to them, do not exist in their own right. They might be called “ontological parasites,” things incapable of existing apart from the things that are their “hosts.” (A wrinkle in a carpet cannot exist apart from the carpet; a hole in a piece of cheese cannot exist apart from the cheese.) If one supposed that a carpet could, in metaphysical theory if not in physical fact, exist apart from all other things (other than its own parts), one would be supposing that the carpet was a substance, but no one would suppose that a wrinkle in that carpet could be a substance. The carpet may or may not exist in its own right, but the wrinkle certainly does not. (Spinoza would have insisted that the carpet did not exist in its own right—that only the one substance, which constitutes the whole of reality, exists in its own right, the carpet being as much an ontological parasite as the wrinkle.)

Aristotle had called things that exist in their own right prōtai ousiai (ancient Greek: “primary beings”; singular prōtē ousia), which make up the most important of his ontological categories. Several features define prōtai ousiai: they are subjects of predication that cannot themselves be predicated of things (they are not universals); things exist “in” them, but they do not exist “in” things (they are not “accidents,” like Socrates’ wisdom or his ironic smile); and they have determinate identities (essences). The last feature could be expressed in modern terms as follows: if a prōtē ousia x exists at a certain time and a prōtē ousia y exists at some other time, there is a determinate answer to the question of whether x and y are one and the same thing, or numerically identical; and the question of whether a given prōtē ousia would exist in some specific set of counterfactual circumstances must likewise have a determinate answer. It is difficult to suppose that smiles or wrinkles or holes have this sort of determinate identity. To ask whether the smile that Socrates smiled today is the same as the smile that he smiled yesterday can be understood only as a question about descriptive identity, the relation between two distinct things whereby they are exactly like each other in every respect (see metaphysics: Identity).

Aristotle used (prōtē) ousia not only as a count noun but also as a mass term. (He generally wrote ousia without qualification when he believed that the context would make it clear that he meant prōtē ousia.) For example, he asked not only questions like “Is Socrates a (prōtē) ousia?” and “What is a (prōtē) ousia?” but also questions like “What is the (prōtē) ousia of Socrates?” and “What is (prōtē) ousia?” In the count-noun sense of the term, Aristotle identified at least some (prōtai) ousiai with ta hupokeimena (“underlying things”; singular to hupokeimenon). Socrates, for example, is a to hupokeimenon in that he “lies under” the in rebus (Latin: “in the things”) universals under which he falls and the accidents that inhere in him. To hupokeimenon has an approximate Latin equivalent in substantia, “that which stands under.” Owing both to the close association of (prōtē) ousia and to hupokeimenon in Aristotle’s philosophy and to the absence of a suitable Latin equivalent of ousia (the closest analogue, essentia, a made-up Latin word formed in imitation of ousia, was used for another purpose), substantia became the customary Latin translation of the count noun (prōtē) ousia. A substantia, or substance, is thus a particular that is capable of “standing on its own.” A substance may indeed depend on the action of other substances for its existence: it may have been brought into existence by the prior operations of other substances, and it may depend on the concurrent operations of other substances to continue in existence. But it does not depend on other things for its existence in the manner in which a wrinkle or a hole in a carpet depends on the carpet for its existence.

Although there is no universally accepted and precise definition of “substance” (alternatively, one might say that substance is not a very clear concept), most philosophers would agree that certain kinds of things are not substances. For example, most philosophers who are willing to use the word at all would deny that any of the following (if they exist) are substances:

• 1. Universals and other abstract objects. (It should be noted that Aristotle criticized his teacher Plato (428/27–348/47 bce) for supposing that prōtai ousiai are ante res, Latin for “before things,” universals.)

• 2. Events, processes, or changes. Some philosophers have held that there are substances that are nontemporal, or outside time. But substances that are temporal are said to last or endure or to exist at various times. Events or processes, on the other hand, are said to happen, occur, or take place.

• 3. Stuffs, such as flesh, iron, or butter. Although a common meaning of “substance” is stuff or matter, Aristotle criticized earlier philosophers (specifically, the pre-Socratic cosmologists) for supposing that a prōtē ousia could be a stuff such as water, air, fire, or earth.

The question of whether there are substances continues to be one of the central problems of metaphysics. Several closely related questions are the following. How, precisely, should the concept of substance be understood? Among the sorts of things that human beings frequently encounter, which (if any) are substances? If there are substances, how many of them are there? (For example, is there only one, as Spinoza contended, or are there many, as his fellow rationalists René Descartes [1596–1650] and Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz [1646–1716] supposed?) And, finally, what kinds of substances are there? (For example, are there immaterial substances, eternal substances, or necessarily existent substances?)