There is a vast and deep pool of erudite thought in western philosophy pertaining to process philosophy. I am strangely attracted to it even though I find it maddeningly reality warping. Easily recognizable is that this branch of philosophy is a bold attempt at offering an alternative paradigm to the conventional wisdom of materialist philosophy. Beyond that point however, the ontological and epistemological landscape becomes other worldly. Process philosophy wants to take us on a different kind of phenomenal trail. One that transcends all that was thought and accepted for a lifetime about actuality, about authenticity.
I have been delving seriously into western philosophy for five years now. So, when process philosophy started to take hold of me approximately two years ago I had enough of a developed base to be ready to try to comprehend it. Little did I expect that this was to be the daunting cognizance challenge it had turned out to be. It is fine to accept that committing to understanding process philosophy means for me a lengthy and at times confusing endeavor. Nothing wrong with being a beginner at something new. However, what strikes me most at this early stage of the learning is the mental disruption process philosophy is generating.
Before going further, this might be a good time to explain what I mean by process philosophy. The concept first grabbed my attention during my initial chronological study of the history of western philosophy when I was introduced to Alfred North Whitehead (1861-1947). A mathematician, logician, and physicist during the early part of his career he eventually shifted his attention and scholarship to philosophy and metaphysics. This transformation was much more than a career evolution. Whitehead proposed a radically different ontology to explain the nature of existence. He told us that reality is not formed by discreet elements of matter that exist autonomously, but rather that the fundamentals of all-there-is consists of the interrelationships among processes. Whitehead upset conventional wisdom by telling us in essence that the universe is not a noun, but a verb.
Process philosophy has taken on adherents ever since Whitehead and is today a position taken seriously by many credible philosophers both in and out of academia. It is a notion that is both believable and unbelievable—an enigma that both attracts and repels. A good place to gain a foothold with comprehending process philosophy is with the word “becoming”. Everything we know of is in a state of flux. Change which is both predictable and capricious is universal. A consistent theme within this ubiquitous process is the constant repetition of coming into being. Existence appears and disappears, sometimes simultaneously. What is foundational is that all things and events become over and over again. The universe appears to be, indeed, to subsist, in an ever active and regenerative manner.
Where this story gets very strange for western minds is that process has primacy over materialism both philosophically and scientifically. Physical matter constructed from molecules and atoms; the primordial stuff that keeps reshaping itself into everything there is takes either a secondary role within reality or else this galactic fabric is dismissed entirely as illusory. It is in this sharp distinction, this fundamentally divergent framing of certitude where the cognitive muddle begins. What to make of this contrast? Is there an essential truth supporting actual realism and if so, is this truth cleverly obscured or glaringly obvious? A journey into process philosophy will confront you with questioning all you previously thought and believed about what the world and universe are like.
Philosophical idealism has a lot to say. The mind is an immense and elaborate seat of consciousness. The magnitude of its richness and potential is beyond language to explain. Conscious experience appears to be foundational to all there is. Separating reality from pure subjectivity seems like an unprofitable venture aside from a possible interest in exploring metaphysical dualism. Perhaps Plato and Kant were onto something with their phenomenal and noumenal branches of existence. Maybe there is realm of existence in which things exist in themselves independent of our perceptions. But how will we ever know? Without a mind we can never know if reality lies both within and without our awareness.
Idealism, the view that experience is elemental to sensing reality, in large part set the stage for process philosophy. In addition to jointly recognizing the primacy of experience, idealism and process philosophy also share a belief in the unceasing and dynamic creation of reality, and in a dismissal of static ontological materialism. To be is immutably linked to thinking and to think is an expression of being. To be and to think are active and not fixed states. To be and to think are always hand in hand leaning forward, always together onto the next thing.
One other core and defining element process philosophy and idealism share is an existential opposition to materialism. What I find most unsettling about this resistance to physicality is that I have always seen myself as living in a concrete and physical world made up of substances that naturally occurred as either solids, liquids, or gases. So, is process philosophy telling me and the rest of the western world that we are getting this perception of universal substance all wrong? To make such a declaration gives my brain pause.
Materialism proposes that existence is based entirely upon matter and its infinite configurations. All phenomena, including the workings of mind, are reducible to the constitution of substances and their interactions. As a result of our sensory abilities to perceive reality we have increasingly relied on sensorial observation. Empiricism came to dictate how we define reality. Science emerged as a discipline targeted toward determining predictable behaviors of materials and their interplay. Laws and causal powers of nature became codified, and a general belief arose that as we refined our observational capacity over time we would eventually be able to discern the underlying elements of matter and thereby peer into the true and immutable essence of everything. The materialist viewpoint became central to the conventional wisdom of western thought during the Enlightenment and remains the dominant sentiment to this day.
Resolving the most definitive and conclusive interpretation of nature’s true character, the process approach or the materialist tradition, will not be determined in this essay. Indeed, it may never be settled throughout the long arc of human history. Of note at this present time, however, is how can thinking people examine this process/material dichotomy in a way that beneficially tests ones assumptions, pushes one to seriously consider never before imagined ideas, and very possibly expand ones outlook on what is authentic and real.
The experience of cognitive dissonance comes to mind when contemplating the inclusion of process philosophy into an established materialist belief framework. This has certainly occurred to me. Like I suspect many people do, I was content thinking that the brain, through synaptic firing, gave view to a physical world that was always there and always would be. My brain miraculously gave me a ticket to sensing a universe that spent its time doing what universes do—transferring energy and reconfiguring matter. Idealism, and by extension process philosophy, shook up that lifelong impression. How am I supposed to now know what to believe?
Cognitive dissonance, the mental distress resulting from believing two contradictory ideas, can be a disagreeable place to be. Disequilibrium can be that way. It is a state of conflicting beliefs that leads to confusion and mystery. It is a disruption of values and attitudes that can be unsettling. Where cognitive dissonance gets really impactful is when one’s identity is aligned with one’s beliefs. Adopting new convictions can imperil one’s self-concept. Fortunately for many, this level of consequence pertains more to political opinions or professional scientific careers than to philosophical views. Nevertheless, selecting a novel way of considering the nature of reality does elicit, at the very least, carefully chosen cognitive modifications.
In my case, integrating process philosophy into my formally rigid materialist outlook is going to be, I suspect, a work in progress for some time to come. This endeavor compels me to humbly accept that I have a lot more to learn. Additionally, though, there is also my growing realization that deep ontological perplexities will most likely never be fully understood or universally decided by all of humankind at any given time. Rational investigation at some point yields to faith; a trust in unverifiable beliefs; a safe harbor for troubled minds. Given the chasm of viewpoints across the spectrum of humanity it is the height of haughtiness to think the one unifying theory of everything will ever be found and even more implausibly ever be widely accepted.
Nevertheless, we continue to try to comprehend; to know as much as we can about the primitive and fundamental source of all-there-is. I take some solace in accepting that the tension existing between a more processual or materialistic approach to metaphysics is a good thing. We gain a greater existential breadth and depth through an open minded exploration of both traditions.
The antidote for cognitive dissonance it turns out is to cultivate an ability to think counterfactually. Possessing an ability to envision alternative explanations and to accept the possibility that there may actually be something of value to consider in variant approaches can lessen cognitive rigidity and expand openness. Counterfactual thinking practice may settle for us an acceptable metaphysical paradigm to envision and accept, albeit a fresh one. And if we are lucky, more fluid thinking may even produce benefits far beyond engagement in philosophical debates.
