A common trope among many people who are ‘traditionally’ minded is to invoke a conception of human ‘purpose’ or ‘end.’ In philosophical jargon, this is typically called Teleology (from Greek τέλος (tel-os), often translated into English as ‘end,’ ‘purpose,’ or ‘goal’), a notion in which things have an inherent meaning that must be pursued. We will notice that this concept is particularly common among those who are indebted to the thought of the ancient Greek philosopher, Aristotle. This was later integrated into several religious views, namely those of Abrahamic origin, through the works of figures such as Al-Farabi, Maimonides, and Thomas Aquinas (figures of Islam, Judaism, and Christianity, respectively). Consequently, many Jews, Christians, and Muslims hold onto this idea that there is some sort of human ‘end’ to be achieved.
I must admit that, as a Catholic, I see the allure of this concept. This is made clear if we compare Teleology with the processes of envisioning a painting before picking up the brush or imaging a certain expression before penning a poem: we develop a view ‘in the mind’s eye,’ so to speak, before making actual that which is only potential as of yet. We, as human beings, take ourselves to be quite similar when posited within the view of Teleology; it is as if we may discover an explanation of what it means to be a human being and then consciously develop ourselves into whatever it is that we envisioned. There is a simplicity to this view that I believe makes it rather desirable amidst the tumult of our fallen world. Additionally, having this view could, in theory, make communal living much easier as we have a sense of mutual expectation to live by as a group.
Now, despite my sympathy for this view, I must say that I see one defect that I take to be insurmountable: we can never be beyond ourselves. To continue with my image of creating a painting or a poem, to produce such a work is only possible since we can stand over and above whatever it is that we are making. To do so with ourselves, however, is impossible, as we must always recognise that we are much more than that which we might articulate ourselves to be. To explicate what I am requires that I be something more than that which I am able to explicitly reveal in language. In other words, I am within the flow of my own becoming, not something external to it which may act upon it and direct it in an ‘objective’ sense; without ceasing in my own becoming, I could never consider my life’s end since it has yet to arrive.
Thus, to conform to a posited human ‘end’ in this sense I have outlined would require that I somehow sit beyond my own nature to peer in, as if from the outside, to make such an observation about myself. I do not believe that such a position is achievable, however, and I therefore reject this as a viable exercise. This is not to say that we may not speak certain things about ourselves or pursue specified ends first through means of articulation, but it is merely meant to acknowledge that what we may identify in ourselves is never ‘absolute’ or ultimately ‘conclusive.’ Insofar as we are able to continue considering our circumstance, we cannot suppose to have reached the end. To paraphrase Hannah Arendt, the completeness or fulfillment of a human life can only be contemplated upon death, meaning that we can never make such a judgement about ourselves.
I do not, despite this tirade, believe that the concept of Teleology is absolutely without value, but I believe we must parse through some confusions caused by the differences between English and ancient Greek. As noted above, the concepts associated with Teleology are often rendered as ‘end’ or ‘purpose’ in the English tongue, though there is also often an association with ‘nature.’ (We should note here that the English tongue suffers a severe confusion in understanding the meaning of ‘nature’; to contemplate nature in the way of the Greeks is not to consider the material, biological intricacies in the manner of our modern natural scientists. For the German speaker, the Greek philosophers had no real interest in Naturwissenschaften, sondern in Geisteswissenschaften; he sought not an understanding of the mere body but of the whole person.) Unfortunately, us Anglophones often understand an end or a purpose in a merely utilitarian and determinative sense; such concepts invoke the cessation of something. We, conversely, also understand nature as something of a starting place but which provides no direction, a confusion likely compounded by the influence of Thomas Hobbes’ and John Locke’s conceptions of the ‘State of Nature’ (not to mention the scientistic rationalism that is rife throughout the contemporary Western world). In reconsidering the Greek, however, we may find something redemptive for our understanding of Teleology.
To speak of something’s τέλος, we must understand that it is something in the world that is contingent and subject to change. This is important in understanding Aristotle, as metaphysical realities cannot have a τέλος per se as they are not subject to change by definition. The term φύσις (phu-sis), rendered in English as ‘nature’ in following the Latin translation of natura, is meant to connote the tangible aspects of experience that may be subject to change; it is the root of several English words such as ‘physical’ and ‘physics.’ To be ‘meta’-physical is, therefore, to be ‘beyond change,’ to be beyond the physical world of existence. The metaphysical realities are the eternal conditions upon which existence is predicated. To be physical, on the other hand, is to be something within the flux of contingent being that is constantly subject to change. I bring up these linguistic points as I believe it is unwise to invoke Teleology without simultaneously considering the meaning of φύσις.
To contemplate something’s ‘end’ or ‘purpose’ in the sense of Teleology is an impossible endeavour if we do not also consider the φύσις of that same entity. The end of something cannot be understood fully without also seeing how it arrives at that end. I believe that in our case as contingent beings, however, there is the added complexity of us finding ourselves within the flux of our own nature and then attempting to foresee our end. We thus develop a sense of ourselves within our condition of change; in embracing our φύσις, we foresee our τέλος, but we must realise that we are never determining that end but are merely recognising it. To embrace our Teleology as so many proponents of ancient and religious thought try to have us do, we must see that we are not being given an abstracted notion of ourselves that is simply hammered into our current condition in a manner no different than that of the ideological activist. Rather, he who desires to know his τέλος must begin within the movement of his own φύσις; it is only from this view that we may begin to align our hearts, minds, and souls.
In attempting to consider ourselves Teleologically, we must not confine ourselves to understanding our ‘end.’ We must understand that this end emerges out of the contingent movement we presently find ourselves within. We have no choice but to begin within the domain of φύσις and contemplate its intimations which ultimately inform how we understand our ‘end’ or ‘purpose.’ Perhaps our religious and philosophical traditions may provide us with abridgements to accelerate our capacity to embrace our human condition, to find a sense of order amidst the flux, but we must recognise that these abridgements must be supplemented and ultimately transcended with our own genuine self-consideration and self-understanding. As far as I can tell, the human condition is one in which we become aware of what we already are. I believe that this is what Aristotle foresaw as the well ordered the soul, what he saw in the man who achieved εὐδαιμονία. My hope is that in reconsidering Teleology, we will in fact be led toward an embrace of our present life and realising that we are first involved in a way of being that will eventually come to an end. We merely hope that we will come to understand and eventually embrace this relationship between our Way and our End so as to ease the sense of discord so many of us feel in the seeming flux of this life.
Hoping for Clarity 