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8 min read

The provocateur philosopher who wants to wean us off the junk food of popular science

David Bentley Hart serves up meat on mind and matter.

Isaac is a PhD candidate in Theology at Durham University and preparing for priesthood in the Church of England.

Two angels converse.
Cupid and Psyche by François Pascal.
Simon Gérard via Wikimedia Commons.

It will be immediately obvious to the reader of David Bentley Hart’s new book that the structure is quite different to most other titles on the philosophy of mind.  

Hart admits that in its original form it was in fact far longer than its substantial 500 plus pages, but, in a perhaps inspired move, it has undertaken a metamorphosis from the ponderous-tome genre of philosophical discourse to one much older: the dialogue. 

Instead of other such works which draw on an enormous and panoramic amount of literature presented in regular academic style with copious footnotes, Hart has opted for intelligibility in the mode of a dialogue between characters, historically most notably deployed by Plato. For this reason, it works well as an audiobook, as well as printed text. The downside to this format is that Hart has opted for a somewhat unfortunate weighting of three-on-one. Whilst this format makes the twist and turn of the at times obstruse argumentation more accessible, the impression can feel somewhat unbalanced. Hephaistos, one of those in dialogue, sometimes cuts a lonely and sympathetic figure, and his opponents sometimes are slightly too self-satisfied. This is not overwhelmingly so, but it is worth remembering that all voices are Hart’s.  

His choice of dialogicians is telling - four Greek divinities. Psyche (soul), the mortal woman made divine by love. Eros (love), the divine lover of Psyche, Hermes, Psychopomp (that is, the guide of souls in the afterlife). And the stolid Hephaistos, god of craft and manufacture, the main antagonist as the advocate of all things materialist and physicalist. Three characters signal Hart’s intent to guide the reader into a new realm beyond the mundane; the fourth is the mouthpiece of this mundanity. Together in a garden, prompted by a plucked rose, they discuss some the deepest questions of mind, matter, and life.  

The title, All Things Are Full of Gods, is a quotation attributed to the pre-Socratic philosopher Thales. Like Thales, Hart wants to argue that not only is the divine a reality but is in fact the ground of all things. The six days of dialogue cover the full gauntlet of metaphysical debate over the nature of reality.   

On day one, ‘Mind, Life, and Pictures of Reality’ the gods set up the groundwork of the reductionist materialist physicalism (RMP) perspective and the older pictures of classical philosophies. 

Day two, ‘Mind and Matter’, draws the battlelines between the qualitative difference between mind and matter. 

Day three, ‘Brain and Mind’, engages with arguments concerning how mind and matter relate. 

On day four, ‘Machine and Soul’, the place of mind in the body is deepened in the debates on computationalism and functionalism and a useful unpacking of the limitations of panpsychism, which is currently seeing a revival in philosophical circles. 

Day five, ‘Soul and Nature’, sees the dialogue broadened to nature itself, reconsidering the mechanical paradigm which presently dominates. 

Concluding, day six, ‘Nature and Supernature’, is where Hart delivers his final case, having thoroughly prepared the ground, arguing that mind characterises all of reality and that this is ultimately the only truly rational account of being.  

In an important ‘Coda: The Age of the Machine’ Hart addresses the problem of evil, something largely absent from the rest of the work. Hart has a good track record on this topic: The Doors of the Sea, written in light of the Boxing Day Tsunami, is essential reading for Christians and others who see the paradox between an all-loving, all-powerful God and the presence of suffering and evil. Readers will have to decide for themselves; it is not a topic on which one may enforce an opinion either way. The discussion concludes on the sixth day, “. . . and on the seventh day they rest.” (483) 

Whilst All Things is dialogic, it also appears to be something else: catechesis. Hart is a catechist. Theologian and philosopher also; linguist certainly; provocateur undoubtedly. But the intention of this book is to catechise the reader, to induct them into the mystery of mind and reality. This might be a somewhat dusty word to some, implying the rote learning of religious dogma. Others will be barely aware of such a word. In Christianity, catechesis is the process of instruction, usually conducted through question and answer.  

Hart is an Eastern Orthodox Christian, though in many ways an unorthodox one. His commitment to a form of perennialism, his belief that many of the major religious philosophies of the world (Vedic, Greek, Jewish, Christian, Islamic) share important and compatible insights into the nature of reality and God as the primordial ground of all things, is evident through the pages of All Things. This is unsurprising as he states that of all his writings All Things is the natural successor to The Experience of God: Being, Consciousness, Bliss (a deliberate allusion to the Vedic concepts of sit, chat, ananda) in which he sought to argue the rational coherence of a theism shared by a number of the great religions over and against the irrationality of modern physicalist materialism. It is worth reading and would certainly give the reader of All Things a primer for the extended discussion.  

But how is it exactly catechesis? Hart wants to wean the reader off the junk food of popular science with its tendency to not take questions about its philosophical basis very seriously, especially in how its epistemology, ‘what it knows’, produces its ontology, ‘what exists’. This deficiency, as Hart is keen to point out, means that often ontology secretly precedes epistemology. For instance, most scientist will take central place of mathematics within their discipline for granted, without acknowledging that mathematics is itself is groundless: it is epistemologically irreducible as it is not empirical, but is ontologically essential to the scientific method. Hart argues that it is in it’s very groundlessness and givenness to intelligibility, i.e. that the world can be understood at all, that means the world in fact shows itself to have rational mind-like structure, capable of being known. Many advocates for RMP will simply shrug and say that we’ve simply evolved to see structure which isn’t inherently there; Hart is here to pick a philosophical bone with them. His intention as catechist is that, even if one does not become a Christian at the end of this book, one can no longer remain in the comfortable and familiar philosophical milk of the dominant RMP paradigm but be stirred to hunger for the meat of reality. Although not an explicitly Christian book, there are certain hints. A number of Christian theologians recur, especially towards the end: Karl Rahner, Bernard Lonergan, Meister Eckhart. That the dialogue is set over six days “. . . and on the seventh day they rest” (483) ought not to be lost on the reader. 

His position in a nutshell is that all is mind or spirit (this linking of terms that are separate in English derives from their indistinction in the German Geist, used extensively in German Idealism, in which a lot of this debate has its origins in modernity). This is not a denial of matter (as in some forms of idealism), but that matter is a material manifestation or substrate of the principle of mind behind all reality: God. In many ways All Things is the extension of his previous book, The Experience of God: Being, Consciousness, Bliss, which he acknowledges in the ‘Introduction’. His position is argued in response to the currently most dominant intellectual paradigm, RMP: the idea that reality consists only of that which is matter or can be observed as a consistent mechanical attribute of matter (such as gravity).  

Hart’s argument rests on a number of fallacies in this paradigm; the most important of these and the one which recurs most frequently throughout the dialogue between the gods is the ‘pleonastic’ fallacy:  

No matter how many purely objective quantitative steps the supposedly mechanistic material order may have taken in the direction of mind, none of them seems as if it could have constituted that sudden qualitative transition from pure exteriority into an unprecedented inwardness.  

In short, quantitative accumulation cannot produce qualitative transformation. Mind is not another form of exterior reality, like the physical world; thought takes up no space and is of an entirely different, interior order. This is Hart’s principle complaint against both RMP and historical forms of dualism such as that of Descartes. The six ‘days’ of dialogue is essentially an account of the various arguments presented by the RMP paradigm to demonstrate that this fallacy is not in fact true. The most important of these concerns the trend in various sciences to speak of ‘emergence’: the appearing of qualities or realities such as mind which, whilst dependent upon a physical foundation for their existence, cannot be understood or explained by examination of their physical foundation; they cannot be reduced (explained) by the substrate. Hart draws the distinction between water’s property to extinguish fire, despite it being made up of the highly combustible elements hydrogen and oxygen, and the emergence of mind as a different order of reality from physical combination: 

Physical properties derived from other physical properties—no great problem there. So long as this is all that’s meant by “emergence,” then the concept is as inoffensive as it is obvious. But there’s a point at which vague talk of emergence is just another way of talking about something that you might otherwise justly call magic.

This is because water’s watery-ness is also a physical phenomenon, the product of the combination of these particular elements in this particular configuration. But this is still and exterior reality; mind on the other hand is not a property like the watery-ness of water because mind is an interior phenomenon, one which is entirely inaccessible except for the mind who is the mind in first-person perspective. To then argue that pure exterior accumulation quantitative of reality can produce this interiority is, to Hart, not only nonsensical but irrational. Part of his argument thus also turns upon the principle of Occam’s Razor: “if you have two competing ideas to explain the same phenomenon, you should prefer the simpler one,” as Chris Simms describes it. With some of the arguments from RMP approaching this almost ‘magical’ solution, Hart is at pains to argue that indeed the simplest explanation for the mind-like structure of reality is that it is indeed Mind. 

 I believe this to be a crucial book in the ongoing dialogue between philosophers and theologians on the one hand and the sciences on the other. The project of pointing out the philosophical problems with the dominant paradigm is a difficult when the other side rarely wishes to listen; Hart, however, is a voice that cannot be ignored. 

 

All Things Are Full of Gods: The Mysteries of Mind and Life, By David Bentley Hart, Yale University Press. 

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14 min read

The book for those who didn't live happily ever after

Walk in my shoes, invites Mick Fleming

Jean is a consultant working with financial and Christian organisations. She also writes and broadcasts.

A man walks up a cobble street.
Mick Fleming.
BBC News.

Mick Fleming was first arrested at the age of nine. He’s been entangled in crime, addictions, and faced death just a few times. Yet he is now in recovery and is a pastor in his hometown of Burnley. He knows what it means to suffer. His new book Walk In My Shoes explores not just the suffering and pain he experienced but that of others he met on the way. 

Jean Kabasomi sits down with him. 

Jean Kabasomi: You write about your journey in your autobiography, your first book, Blown Away, which outlines your struggles and recovery. Now you’ve released this new book called Walk In My Shoes. Why did you write this book? 

Mick Fleming: I came across so many inspirational people. I found something that was transformative from my pain. I didn't find it from just the good happy times, I just didn’t, and I was coming across people in my life for years and years and years that had had the same sort of pain that I had. I had learned how to tell them that things can change if you can stand this message that somebody gave to me.  

I was becoming quite interested in why do people have to suffer and what is the end of suffering. Every person in the book I know personally, and I've journeyed with them one way or another. So, I wanted to write the book to say this,  

“Look, it's not just me, listen. It's going to hurt. But, you know, there's something at the end. There's something, there's a way through.”  

When I look around in the world, nobody wants to go through pain. They try to step around it. I came to this conclusion, that you can't, it's impossible to avoid pain. It's not possible. You're going to have to go through pain, everybody.  A notion of faith that says, I can take you through the pain, was something that really stood out to me. And then I thought, how does pain turn to love? How is that possible? It's only when you share it.  

And I kind of thought about this Jesus Christ fella who was on this cross, and I thought, wow, he shared his pain, and it turned to love, wow. So, the stories in the book are people sharing the pain and it's turned to love. 

JK: One of the things I found was most striking about the book is the way you intertwine their stories with your own story. Is there a reason for wanting to do that?  

MF: It was something profound for me. It didn't seem profound for me at the time. So, in the first story I find a guy who's unconscious, an addict. His legs are sticking out of these flower beds. I stopped my car. I had someone in the car with me. As I jumped out and ran to see if this guy were alright, my friend came out behind me. I woke the guy up, and he had no shoes. He was really disappointed, because he was still alive. The guy was still alive, but he'd wanted to die, and I put my shoes on his feet. I wasn’t trying to be clever, it was just that he had no shoes.  

I knew I could get back in my car and just drive home and put some new shoes on, because I've got four or five pairs of shoes. That was a real simple transaction. My passenger jumped back into the car, and he just burst into tears. It shocked me, so I asked, 

“What's up? Are you alright?”  

And he said, “I've never seen anything like that in my life.”  

“What do you mean?”  

“You giv’ ‘im your shoes?” 

He then added, “It’s not just giving him your shoes. I don't know. Something has happened to me”. 

That was the fact that we are intertwined together. All our stories are intertwined. So, the title, Walk In My Shoes are my literal shoes - an invitation, but also for me to walk in theirs, as well. Ultimately, if you can do that, and you're walking in a different pair of shoes altogether, aren't you? You're carrying your cross, basically. 

JK: You and I are familiar with the expression carrying your cross. But what does that actually mean? What does that mean in layman's terms? 

MF: So, for me, I'm going to suffer sometimes. Sometimes the load is going to be heavy. But it leads me to a place that's far better than where I have come from. And also, it means that I can't do that alone. I can't do that by myself. I kind of need God. I get courage, it isn't just from other people. The courage is something that's deep down inside me. It's like a spiritual thing, and that's what carrying a cross means to me.  

JK: People who have had similar paths to you, might say that relating with people who are in those same positions might be triggering for them. How do you deal with triggering if there is any triggering?  

If I'm talking to other people, there’s a term that [professionals] use, ‘being trauma informed’, so that you don't re-traumatise people deliberately, with the language that you use. So, I don't do that anyway.  

But I for myself, personally, I'm not triggered by other people's pain or their suffering. I am sort of connected to it. I kind of like being connected to other people's pain, because I'm also connected to the joy as well when they come out of it. I love this saying, if you ever heard it, “You can't have an operation without a few scars.”  So, I think for me personally I don't have any fear or reservations connecting with other people's pain. It doesn't traumatise me. It leads me to joy.  

JK: Another story I found quite interesting was when you went into the private school. There's always a tendency for us to “other” people - these people aren't like me. How have you overcome your biases and what have you learned from that type of othering?  

MF: I'm biased all the time because I come to the table with me. I used to hate rich people, that was as a Christian. I worked out it were because I had nowt.  

I see my bias straight away because I allow myself to. You've got to allow yourself to see it. I ask myself questions. Am I trying to manipulate a person to get something? And if I am, what is it and why? What do I want from that person? But I believe that that is what set me free, and I believe that's a godly thing to do.  

So, I don't pretend anymore. I've been in churches full of pretenders all my life. They don't know that they are pretending. I don't mean it's a deliberate act. I mean not prepared, or they don't understand how to look at their own motive and things. So that's how I deal with it. I look deeply within myself.  I pray and I meditate, and I ask questions all the time, of myself.  

I believe that this power lives in me. I believe it's in me. It's not a distant God that I can’t touch. He's actually with me and in me. Therefore, I go to that, to ask, and it gets revealed, and that's real. What a remarkable thing. My God lives in me. If you grasp that, then you can speak to and experience that. 

JK: You feel that you're called to be passionate but not political if so, where does politics fit in? 

MF: I was with Alistair Campbell last night. Alistair Campbell doesn't believe in God, and he has, maybe, a left-wing agenda that doesn’t line up with my moral Christianity at all, and I was asked the same question. I believe that politicians should be put under pressure by the people that have elected them - under pressure to speak truth.  

Why is it, Mr MP that I'm going to visit a house where a dad's took his own life because he couldn't get adequate mental health support?  

Why is it that I go to a house where the children haven’t been fed for two days because mum's run out of money?  

Why is it that this family are being put out of the house and they're gonna have to go into bed and breakfast? That's going to cost you more than it would to write a debt off.  

These are political questions. I don't believe I'm called to be a politician. I believe that I’m called to be a Christian activist for social justice and restorative justice. But I go beyond that. I don't just think I'm called to do that. I think every Christian should be called to do that.  

JK: Outsiders looking in they may argue that the Church could do more in some of these areas. What can the Church do better, to be a better witness?  

MF: I think take the blinkers off. Understand that the people are the Church. I think understand what the gospel is. Fully understand what the gospel is. If I put 10 drug addicts who are trying to find God but still using drugs in any church in the country, apart from this one, they'll shut your church down. They shut it down because they'll rob you. If that's how you're ministering, you need some lived experience. Lived experience by itself is not enough. It just isn't. It doesn't work. You're just creating a church full of people like yourself and that's an ego trip. That's not how it should be. So, I think the Church needs to look and understand who it's ministering to, who it wants to minister to, where it's called to be, rather than just open your doors and see what happens.  

So, to any other church, do you know that you need the poor, more than they need you? And how does that make you feel? And do you believe that?  

JK: In the book you said the Gospel makes the poor rich and the rich humble

MF: Yeah, 100 per cent. It's a different way, isn't it? Go to the back of the queue and then turn around. Tell me what you see. It's a little bit like that. I think that is what the Church need to do.  

JK: You said that both the haves and the have nots, rich and poor - pray, give and receive, but they all struggle to receive love. Can you talk a little bit more about that? 

MF: My experience has been that you can tell people all day long where they're going wrong and they'll usually take it. They don't like it, but they'll take it. But when you tell them good things about themselves, especially broken people or people from addictive backgrounds or people who've gone through trauma, they just can't take it. They just can't receive the love. It's like they bat it off. If you can't receive that, are you truly receiving the love of God fully into your life and into your heart? I think people need help with that.  

If I can't love myself, how can I love other people? I ask people this a lot, have you ever really felt loved? Really, just be honest.  And a lot of people, the majority anyway, say no. I’ve never allowed [it]. I can give, give, give all day long, but it's far more difficult to receive. The gospel is about receiving because it comes from God, and he wants you to receive it.  

I think that people use fairness as a measure. They can't help it. “It's not fair. That's unjust.”  But fairness doesn't exist. It's a lie. And yet the world uses it to measure things by. Use love as a measure instead and you'll get a better answer to every question that you ask. Do I love that person? Can I be loved? Is it loving and kind to help that person? Or is it not? Not is it fair? I think that's at the crux of the message. The message in the Bible anyway. It's that kind of love. Christians and Muslims and everybody get behind something that doesn't even exist and use it as a measuring stick. Jesus didn't do that. He used love.  We missed the point. 

JK: You seem very rooted and fixed on what you're doing. You get invited to join different conversations and events like Prince William and Princess Catherine’s Carol Service. How do you stay focused? How do you not get distracted?  

MF: Well, I don't have anything, so everything I have, I've given away. There's a mission which is to get this message out. Anything I do around things like that just seems to allow me to speak the message. I used to have really low self-esteem, and I used to think I wasn't worthy, like lots of people do. Or false pride, even. But I don't have that anymore. 

I'm as good as anybody. There's nobody better than me. I'm the same. But it works the other way around as well. I really strongly believe that because I've got this God that lives inside me and he loves me that much. He wants me to go and show him off to other people and I'll go anywhere.  

Bearing in mind, I also sit on the streets, and I go into prisons, hospitals and psychiatric units and lots of other things. But I've also got to go into palaces. Not very often and probably never again! I probably won't get invited back! 

The stuff I do with the media always has a focus. I knock loads of stuff back. Someone wanted me to go on TV to talk about becoming a pastor after being a bad person, and there's somebody else who is a pastor that used to be a stripper. There's not much point doing it because why would I do that? Why do I need to put that on television? It's not going to change a social justice issue. It's not going to lead people to Christ. It was a sensationalist programme. So, I don't do that rubbish. Well, it's rubbish to me. I know it's not to other people.  

To me there has to be a meaning and a reason for anything I'm doing. But also, we don't have any money. People support the work because they see what we do and the lives that get touched and get changed. So, I will do the stuff that shows the work that we do so that people can support us because, people are dying.  

The biggest part of it, is this message transforms and it can transform anybody if they're willing to listen to it. Everybody goes where they feel God's put them. There's no way, I could put myself there. I can't put myself next to Prince William, can I? I'm just a lunatic, you know, a bald headed, ex-addict with sunglasses on.  I can't make that happen.  I can't put myself on BBC or ITV or get a bestselling book. I can't do that. I've only just learned how to properly read and write 10 years ago! 

JK: Stepping right the way back, who would you say this book is for? Who did you have in your mind's eye when you were writing the book? 

MF: I had my friend, the last story of the book. I had him in mind. I can tell you a little bit about him, but it's for people like him, would be the answer.  

The last story of the book is called Just 2 Steps More.  I took him through the 12 steps. He found God and his life transformed. He and his wife were emigrating to Australia. They were going to fly out on the Monday, and I said my farewells to him, put my arms around him and he said, “You'll have to come over.” And I said “Yeah, that's great.” And he rang me on the Friday and aid, “She's collapsed, can you come to the hospital?” I rushed to the hospital. The doctors and the nurse came and said “Oh, I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do for her. She's had a bleed on the brain and it's too big. I stayed. She was on life support, and they turned the life support machine off. 

Now what I'm getting at is the story should have been that they all lived happily ever after, but they didn't. The book is for the ones where they didn't just all live happily ever after because that's a normal life, at one time or another for everybody. I wanted the book to be that. The book is for people that start to understand or who can tell that life isn't fair and don't judge life on fairness. In that instance the healing has come from the love that my friend has got from the tragedy. The people that have come round him and shared and he's sharing himself with other people. That is the transformation in him. So definitely the book is for people that didn't all live happily ever after. 

JK: Did you get pushback from the publisher? Because when it ended abruptly like that, I was like, ‘Wow, the publisher allowed this?’  

MF: Yeah, is the answer. I did. But I wanted it to finish there because it's real life. It's not a fairy tale. That story in particular, I wanted at the end because it's like, “What? Eh?” Because it makes you think it. It resonates and starts to make you think “Is that it?” But then the real question is, what's your “and they all lived happily ever after”?  Because it won't be. It might be today because it was for my friend until something happened. And something will always happen. So, where's God when something happens? That was why I wanted to finish it there. 


Walk In My Shoes is published by SPCK.

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