F — Fin, Causes Finales

It seems one must be raving mad to deny that stomachs are made to digest, eyes to see, ears to hear.

On the other hand, one must have a strange love of final causes to declare that stone was formed for building houses, and that silkworms were born in China so that we might have satin in Europe.

But, people say, if God has visibly made one thing by design, then he has made all things by design. It is ridiculous to admit providence in one case and deny it in others. Everything made was foreseen and arranged. No arrangement without an object, no effect without a cause: therefore everything is equally the result, the product of a final cause. Therefore it is as true to say that noses were made to carry spectacles and fingers to be adorned with diamonds as it is to say that ears were formed to hear sounds and eyes to receive light.

I think this difficulty can easily be cleared up. When effects are invariably the same in every place and at every time, when these uniform effects are independent of the beings to which they belong, then there is visibly a final cause.

All animals have eyes and see; all have ears and hear; all have a mouth through which they eat, a stomach or something similar through which they digest; all have an orifice that expels excrement, all an instrument of generation. And these gifts of nature operate within them without any art intervening. Here are final causes clearly established, and to deny so universal a truth is to pervert our faculty of thought.

But stones do not compose buildings everywhere and at every time; not all noses carry spectacles; not all fingers have a ring; not all legs are covered in silk stockings. A silkworm is therefore not made to cover my legs as your mouth is made to eat and your backside to relieve yourself. There are therefore effects produced by final causes, and very many effects that cannot be called by that name.

But both are equally within the plan of general providence. Doubtless nothing happens against it, or even without it. Everything belonging to nature is uniform and immutable, and is the master’s immediate work. It is he who created the laws through which the moon contributes three quarters of the cause of the ocean’s ebb and flow, and the sun its quarter. It is he who gave the sun a rotary motion by which that star sends rays of light in five and a half minutes into the eyes of men, crocodiles, and cats.

But if after many centuries we took it into our heads to invent shears and spits, to shear the wool from sheep with the first and roast them with the second to eat them, what can one infer except that God made us in such a way that one day we would necessarily become ingenious and carnivorous?

Sheep certainly were not made absolutely to be cooked and eaten, since several nations abstain from this horror. Men were not created essentially to massacre one another, since Brahmins and Quakers kill no one; but the dough of which we are kneaded often produces massacres, just as it produces slanders, vanities, persecutions, and impertinences. Not that man’s formation is precisely the final cause of our frenzies and follies; for a final cause is universal and invariable at every time and in every place. But the horrors and absurdities of the human species are nonetheless within the eternal order of things. When we thresh our wheat, the flail is the final cause of the grain’s separation; but if that flail crushes a thousand insects while threshing my grain, it is not by my deliberate will, nor is it by chance. It is because these insects found themselves beneath my flail on this occasion, and had to find themselves there.

It follows from the nature of things that a man should be ambitious, that this man should sometimes enlist other men, that he should conquer or be beaten. But no one will ever be able to say, “Man was created by God to be killed in war.”

The instruments nature has given us cannot always be final causes in motion, producing their unfailing effect. Eyes given for seeing are not always open; each sense has its times of rest. There are even senses one never uses. For example, an unhappy foolish girl shut in a convent at fourteen closes forever the door through which a new generation ought to emerge; but the final cause subsists nonetheless. It will act as soon as it is free.

It seems only a madman could deny what stomachs, eyes, and ears are for. Stomachs digest; eyes see; ears hear.

Yet you’d need a very odd passion for final causes to claim something else: that stone came into being for housebuilding, or that China got silkworms to supply Europe with satin.

People object: “If God plainly made something with an aim, he made everything with an aim. It’s absurd to accept providence here and reject it elsewhere. Everything made was planned and put in order beforehand. Putting things in order requires a goal; every effect needs a cause. That makes everything, equally, the result and product of a final cause. We can say noses were made to hold glasses, or fingers to wear diamonds. That’s just as true as saying ears were made to hear sounds, or eyes to take in light.”

I think we can clear this up easily. Look for effects that never change, anywhere or at any time. These constant effects mustn’t depend on the beings they belong to. When both conditions hold, we can clearly see a final cause.

Every animal has eyes, and every animal sees. All have ears, and all hear. Each has a mouth to eat through, and a stomach or something similar to digest with. Each has an opening to get rid of waste, and an organ for reproduction. These gifts from nature work without any human intervention. That clearly establishes final causes. Denying so universal a truth twists our ability to think.

But stone doesn’t form buildings in every place and every age. Plenty of noses don’t carry glasses. Plenty of fingers have no ring, and legs don’t all wear silk stockings. A silkworm wasn’t made to clothe my legs in the same sense that your mouth was made to eat. Your backside, too, was made to let you empty your bowels. Final causes produce some effects; a great many effects don’t fit that description.

Both sorts, though, are equally included in the plan of general providence. Nothing, surely, happens against it, or even without it. Whatever belongs to nature stays constant and unchanging. It’s the master’s direct work. He made the laws governing the ocean’s tides: the moon causes three-quarters of their ebb and flow, and the sun one-quarter. He set the sun rotating. Through that motion, the sun sends light rays into human eyes, crocodiles’ eyes, and cats’ eyes in five and a half minutes.

After many centuries, though, we thought of inventing shears and roasting spits. With the shears we cut sheep’s wool; with the spits we cook the sheep to eat. What can we conclude? Only that God made us so that we’d inevitably become skillful inventors and meat eaters someday.

Sheep surely weren’t made specifically to be cooked and eaten. Several nations refuse to take part in that horror. Nor is slaughtering each other the essential purpose of human creation: Brahmins and Quakers don’t kill anyone. Yet the stuff we’re made of often brings about massacres. It also produces slander, vanity, persecution, and foolishness. That doesn’t make the creation of humans the precise final cause of our madness and stupidity. A final cause stays universal and unchanged, everywhere and always. Even so, human horrors and absurdities still belong to the eternal order of things. When we thresh wheat, the flail is the final cause that separates the grain. Suppose it crushes a thousand insects while I’m threshing my grain. I didn’t deliberately intend that. But it wasn’t chance either. The insects were under my flail on that occasion, and they had to be there.

The nature of things leads a man to be ambitious. Sometimes he organizes other men into regiments, and he wins or loses. But we’ll never be able to say, “God created man so he’d be killed in war.”

The tools nature gave us can’t act as final causes all the time, unfailingly producing their effects. Eyes were given for sight, but they aren’t always open. Every sense has times of rest. Some senses never get used at all. Take a poor foolish girl who’s locked in a convent at fourteen. She shuts forever the door in her body that should have let out a new generation. The final cause still remains, though. As soon as it’s free, it’ll work.