Category: Religious Philosophy

Everton, Football and the Doctrine of Divine Simplicity

There was an international break in March. For those unaware, the ‘international break’ is normally a couple of weeks where football (soccer, but I’ll be calling it football today) that is played in England’s top tier (the Premier League) pauses so that players can play for their own countries in international friendlies or cup qualifiers. It’s also a break for fans like me whose team, like a toothache which leaves them in perpetual discomfort and concern with brief moments of relief, are not at their best.

I support Everton FC.

Don’t worry. I’m not about to angrily disgorge a thousand words about the state of Everton FC on my blog. In fairness, things are looking up: new stadium is looking fabulous, the financial fair play rule issues that have dogged us for so long seem to be resolving themselves and finally, it looks like we are signing players in the right positions, I mean, how many times have we been obstreperously banging on about full backs who can…wait…wait…Dillon…happy place…you promised – remember?

I did. Actually, this blog will combine Everton, football in general, the Doctrine of Divine Simplicity from Thomas Aquinas and the philosophical concept of ‘mereology’. These all sound like rather strange bedfellows, so I’ll explain as succinctly as I can how they came together in my brain and what I mean when I make the statement: I love Everton more than football.

It’s Spring Break, I’ve had a little more thinking time.

It all began because it’s the international break (as mentioned earlier) and I was recalling a conversation I’d had with a work colleague, in a bar in Tashkent, when we were chatting about the England international team. It was just before the European championships and he was asking me about my thoughts on such and such player and potential systems England could play as well as my view on other players from other European countries and honestly, I couldn’t really engage too deeply on this because I don’t really care about the England football team, I love Everton.

I am, what is classically referred to as a ‘club over country’ man.

Well, the discourse remained buoyant and frothy dark beer kept coming and I was probably very erudite and sophisticated and at one point during a feisty encounter, while the table received multiple index finger jabs, my friend said: ‘I think you love Everton more than football’.

Let me tell you something about frothy dark beer. Frothy dark beer drank too excess does not mix well with coherent, rational philosophical thought. Therefore, I agreed with him about the Everton thing and popped that comment into my long-term memory. I say ‘popped’, I probably fell over a couple of times through the frontal lobe on the way, leaned on a brick wall around the limbic lobe, threw up all over hypothalamus (which will stain, no doubt) before eventually arriving at the hippocampus wearing inexplicably only one shoe.

However, it got there and stuck around and was unexpectedly recalled after I’d engaged this week in another favoured past time, reading about the concepts of God. My preferred concept of God (because like ice cream, we all like different flavours) is a ‘Simple God’. Now, I want you to read my blog and enjoy my musings, so I am going to explain this as succinctly as possible. Before I do, let’s be clear, I am no theologian and certainly not an academic. I read this stuff because it’s excellent mental exercise and very interesting.

If you want to take a deep dive then here is where I read this stuff online: Divine Simplicity (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy)

A simple God is popular with several medieval philosophers, but I’m taking directly from Thomas Aquinas. Aquinas was a fascinating chap and wrote extensively and exhaustively about God including his most famous work Summa Theologiae but ended giving it all up after an epiphany because, and he states: “All that I have written appears to be as so much straw after the things that have been revealed to me.”

I thought ‘epiphanies’ were meant to be good things, so there you go. Anyway, they made him a saint so I’m sure he’s not complaining.

Parked within his hefty tomes is the Doctrine of Divine Simplicity (DDS) which states that God is completely without parts or divisions—He is not made up of separate qualities or components like created things – He simply, is. Unlike humans, who have distinct attributes (e.g., we have wisdom, power, and goodness as separate qualities), in God, His wisdom, power, and goodness are all identical with His very being. He does not “have” existence; He is existence itself. This means God is unchangeable, eternal, and perfect, because any change or division would imply imperfection. I don’t know about you, but I need an example to help me with knotty concepts so an example of this is light. We know that a pure beam of white light may appear simple, but when passed through a prism, it reveals different colours. God, however, is not like the divided light; He remains fully unified, with no separation between His attributes. It’s a hugely problematic position to hold and has come under fire a great many times over the last 800 years or so, however, I really enjoy the argument’s structure its overall ontological deliberations and (unlike God’s necessity) I have a good grasp of it.

Reading through DDS during the international break dislodged the ‘You love Everton more than football’ comment from my hippocampus (never found the shoe) and given that I am on Spring Break (did I mention that I have a little more time) it occurred to me that I wonder if it makes sense to love the whole of a thing (Everton) more than an important part of it (football).

To give this a proper good going over, I am going to need another philosophical concept and one that I grasp even less than God’s necessity. It’s from the branch of philosophy related to formal logic and it’s the one that the mathematicians love and the one I’m most likely to swerve at parties. If you’ve ever tried your hand at the metaphysics of logic, then you have my respect – these guys are a league of their own. However, I try to be sociable and know I will always learn something, so I grab a handful of kettle chips (but no dark frothy beer…especially with the logicians) and try and get involved.

The branch of logic I require is called mereology:

Mereology is the philosophical study of part-whole relationships, exploring how entities are composed, how they interact, and what it means for something to be a part of something else. Mereology focuses on concrete objects, such as a wheel being part of a car or a brick being part of a house, as well as abstracta, like a melody being part of a symphony or a chapter being part of a novel.

A key topic in mereology is the push-pull between what’s termed constituent ontology and a non-constituent ontology. Ontology is the branch of metaphysics that studies the nature of being, existence, and reality and a constituent ontology examines whether objects are fundamentally composed of more basic constituents or if wholes exist independently (non-constituent ontology). For example, as shown above, constituent ontologies, define entities based on their decomposable parts (e.g., “a car consists of an engine, wheels, and a chassis”). A non-constituent ontology might instead classify a car based on its function (e.g., “a car is used for transportation and is related to roads and traffic laws”).

Arguments about the coherence of DDS have been played out between these two competing ontologies with a far greater detail, sophistication and application then what’s about to happen here! I’m in it for the mental workout.

On first blush, it makes perfect sense to say that the F.C. part of Everton FC is pretty intrinsic. I would certainly agree that Everton FC would not exist physically without a stadium, or ticket sales, or staff and players or a whole myriad of physical constituent parts. Everton is contingent upon its physical parts – like a car is contingent upon its physical parts. What’s interesting here is that stadiums, tickets and persons who play football are all concrete that is to say they all exist in our physical world or to put it how philosophers would frame it: they are temporally located and extend through space, like you, right now, reading this, in whatever place you’re at, whatever time you’re in.

However, ‘Everton’ and ‘Football’ are not physical; they are not concrete; they are in of themselves abstract. I can go to Goodison Park (at least till June!), buy scarves with the Everton crest. As well, I can point at 22 persons kicking a ball for ninety minutes in adherence to the rules of football – but I cannot touch ‘Everton’ or ‘Football’. They are both concepts – they are both abstract. So the concept of Everton FC could equally be realised as having the following parts: A community of persons, either in that area of Liverpool or anywhere in the world with a shared love of the values of Everton. Seen as parts, these values have (in my view) virtuous properties for example: charity work, community projects and team values such as togetherness, perseverance, loyalty and honour. The ‘Football Club’ (FC) part is a sporting pastime that could equally be any other sporting pastime related to the geographical location on ‘Everton’ or intrinsic value parts related to ‘Everton’. Therefore, the parts of Everton: community, history; geography; tradition; spirit are equal in relation to the part of ‘football’ (a sport that is played by a set of rules and outcomes) giving us Everton FC.

Everton’s function is as a club that plays football, but it also serves as a community focus, charitable exercise, embodiment of values that could be considered virtuous (teamwork, perseverance, fair play, community focused) a function that provides a continuous tradition that links these values (parts) across decades of history.

Furthermore, by applying a non-constituent ontology to the concept of Everton FC as a whole and by not placing any kind of hierarchal ‘part-whole’ structure onto ‘Everton’ and ‘Football Club’ I can talk of Everton FC’s parts as being relational or associative to its whole. Football Club is a part of Everton but only in relation to the club not as a constituent part (as Everton is also a geographical place with values). Everton is in equal relation to its other parts: community, spirit, charity etc. as it is to ‘football’

So, when I consider the parts of Everton FC as relational and I think about the part of ‘football’ as well as its other parts – there’s sense in saying that in relation, the parts of the club that are identified as ‘Everton’ as: honour; community; charity; perseverance; tradition are in of themselves more virtuous than ‘football’ and are more deserving of my love than a game of football.

So, I can love Everton more than football.

That said, if they sign a good ‘right back’ next season along with a couple of wingers who could provide decent service to a number nine…I could easily be swayed.

April 3, 2025
Back to Basics: A call to the head and heart – or simply ice cream for everyone?
Those of us in teaching have all experienced that exhausting final term at school. Behavioral problems from the usual suspects, every teacher running on empty but pushing ourselves and our charges over the line with as little drama as possible. We try to maintain discipline with increasingly wearied and fatigued cohorts of children (whose parents also hanker for the last day of school) as we continue to operate in the long shadow of Covid. But for certain there must be a discussion on how to address the behaviour problems encountered throughout the school over those final four months. In the concluding full staff meeting before planes are boarded, bars propped up or beds receive the dead weight of teacher ‘husks’ – the plan to address issues since January are disseminated and lo and behold out trots – ‘it’s time to go back to basics.

There’s a contrary itch in an idiom that states that to achieve progression we must first achieve regression – but I understand the mis en scene. As an appeal to the head – it’s about simplifying a complex operation and re-establishing how it works at its most basic level, and it’s easy to see how problems arise. How about this as an analogy: Over a period of time, an operating system that worked well with a basic structure whereby the main cogs ran simply and operated their primary functions without fault has incorporated into it more complex machinations. The belief being that the convoluted ways of working would either improve on the basic fulcrum of the system, meet new demands on the system or favorably tweak some issues. So far so good. Then, over more time these more convoluted moving parts start to take on the role as the new base system of operations and their more multifarious and intricate ways of working deemed ready to be front loaded yet further with systems thus causing more problems in of themselves instead of positively performing their primary function. The result is that folks look at the assembled muddle and say ‘Hey, remember when it worked really well because it was simple, and it did those simple things well…let’s just do that again!’

The biggest issue with my mechanical analogy is that whilst we could imagine a machine which at its most basic form worked seamlessly – the same cannot be said of a human constructed values-based organization. For when a school talks about going back to basics, for example requiring pupils to line up silently before they enter the classroom, you have to ask yourself: Are we doing this because lining up is a simpler more basic way of managing a classroom before learning? Or are we doing it because returning to some previous more basic way of working is just good in of itself?

My assumptions about ‘back to basics’ is twofold:
1. It implies that more complex or convoluted ways of working are to blame for errors given the nature of complexity.
2. That going ‘back to basics’ is of itself a virtuous action – but that this can be construed as a token phrase rather than really exploring values and individual well-being.
Let’s examine these two points:

I will take ‘lining up in silence outside the classroom before the lesson’ as an example of ‘back to basics best practice’. Let’s ignore that this strategy suits secondary school (where pupils move about from class to class) more than it would say an Elementary homeroom teacher. My problems are not situated there. Why is lining up in silence outside the classroom considered a fulcrum ‘basic’? Is it because it works simply, or is it because it feels good?

Let’s consider the issue that newer, or more convoluted ways of working are to blame (instead of keeping things simple) for a breakdown in school discipline before class begins. Maybe the newer system that was in place was that pupils could enter the classroom but had to get started on a task that had been set for them. In this instance, teachers would plan for an activity as students walked in that could be accessed independently that either would prepare for the main learning ahead or put them in a good cognitive mindset. This is sometimes referred to as ‘bell work’. Certainly, a more convoluted approach to the start of class discipline than lining up outside silently and awaiting the teacher’s permission to enter. However, the argument is that the new approach is more appropriate to promoting learning, though I don’t want to get bogged down by this. Let’s just state that ‘bell work’ is a more convoluted and load heavy approach than lining up outside silently.

Maybe there had been a problem with the ‘bell work’ approach because a teacher had gone from say a GCSE history class with 16-year old’s straight to a Year 7 class with eleven years old’s and they didn’t have time to prepare a suitably engaging activity for them to dive in to. Possibly, the previous period of teaching had been fraught, and the teacher needed a five-minute breather and lining the pupils outside gives them the space to reset? Both perfectly rational reasons to have children line up outside.

However, that the more convoluted, but arguably more learning focused start to the class could at times be difficult to achieve, does not necessarily mean that it in itself is at fault for a breakdown in class discipline. Its more complex nature compared to simply lining them up does not necessarily make it at fault. Maybe the convoluted ‘bell work’ approach works, but meaningful help needs to be offered on supporting that teacher with different strategies when switching between grades. In this operating system (discipline and order before class) ‘bell work’ is a great way to engage children in being ready to learn – there’s nothing wrong with it. Therefore, to that end, there’s no need for a return to basics – we just need to take more time and give more care to embed a newer way of working because it’s not 1955 anymore and research has moved us on. Oops! Did you see what I did there? I threw in a little ‘values’ wink. Am I suggesting that when we talk about going ‘back to basics’ we are talking about a more ‘simpler time’ rather than a simpler way of working? There are ways of working throughout history that still work today…but sometimes ‘back to basics’ isn’t an appeal to review the machinations of a way of operating to ensure the foundations are sound – for at its worst, it’s a values laden treat:  churned creamily with simplicity, dipped in sumptuous good old fashioned values and sprinkled with straight talking – no nonsense sparkles. Mmmmmm…so comforting.

As it happens there is, I think, an argument that going back to basics is in of itself a virtuous action. I make a play on how it can be used to give a false sweet sense of comfort that things will improve irrespective of the context, but for me that is where the issue is. If you were to say to a group of beleaguered or confused people that the plan was to go back to basics – there may well be a sense of relief and a hope for a more direct path. That said, it’s virtue is not located in its promise for a simpler time (that may have never really existed, except for false memories or dominant discourses)  – it is its link to asceticism. That is its virtue.

Asceticism, in its strict religious meaning, is stark self-discipline. A rejection of any indulgences; abstention from practices that may cause erring or swerving the most pious path. If I can dilute this harsh definition – I think it would be fair to say that most religions hold it to be true that living a simpler life, a life less over burdened by technology or one that shrugs off over complicated or convoluted ways of thinking or acting , as a ‘good’ life. And intuitively we feel it to be so – think of detoxifying, de-cluttering, breaks from social media…these are viewed as important if not necessary ways of recentering and recalibrating what is important and what works. So much like our machine analogy at the top – seen through the lens of a virtuous action; going back to basics from a personal almost ‘spiritual’ way will inevitably offer some insight into why a way of being or acting is causing consternation or a lack of productivity. And there is benefit in that. There is benefit in going to back to basics both in personal reflection and in reviewing an operating system that may be at fault.

So what’s the problem?

Therefore, the problem arises when going ‘back to basics’ is a token gesture. This idiom should not be free from constructive criticism. When someone tells you they are taking something ‘back to basics’ are they offering a plan to reflect and review on a way a thing functions?  A chance to re-establish what we know works and really try and embed newer systems to work well and not reject them because complex necessarily equals complications. Are they offering the space and time for an individual to re-calibrate and re-assess what is ‘good’ for them? Giving folks time to mentally recharge. Or are they simply hoping you’ll hear in your mind the faint lilting chimes of the ice cream truck – wistfully recalling how you once could leave your doors unlocked at night, no one had a mobile phone that now ruins everything and a tenner could buy you a movie ticket, fish and chips on the way home and still have change for a mortgage. And in your reverie, you agree to whatever is suggested because ‘back to basics’ feels like it can only be a good thing, right? Don’t be afraid to challenge this idiom when it’s presented to you whether it be an appeal to the heart or the head – but always accept a scoop of ice cream.
August 14, 2022
Why I tolerate religion – but respect faith.

Religions come and go – their plurality and diversity representative of the complexity and mystery of the human mind. However, ‘faith’: that ability to believe beyond our knowing is a constant, intrinsic and universal trait we all share.

In this month’s blog I want to establish that ‘faith’ is an inherent quality and essential to our humanity. Whether you believe in God or not, our capacity for faith and its transcendental essence is an indispensable part of our personhood and as such should be respected. It is a quality that, arguably, sets us apart from all other sentient beings on Earth. However, that some folks want to compartmentalise, rationalise and indoctrinate that ‘faith’ into rules of being, acting and speaking is not obligated to be respected – only tolerated.

Apparently – he was great.

Back in the dusty days of 313AD – when Maslow’s Hierarchy of needs would not have substituted ‘Wifi and Battery’ for ‘Physical Needs’ the earth bound but thoroughly omnipotent Roman Emperor Constantine proclaimed that Christianity should be decreed ‘tolerant’ in the empire. Great news for the Christians who up until that point had been having a thoroughly awful time of it. Emperor Constantine (who, as powerful men go, has a belter of a name; far more magnificent than Jeff, Bill or Steve) ruled across continents and also claimed his own conversion to Christianity thus paving the way for this burgeoning monotheistic belief system predicated upon a God literally walking the earth to take a firm hold.

Some three hundred years later, in the deserts of Saudi Arabia – the prophet Mohammed  (PBUH) also declared that all ‘peoples of the book’ should be tolerated

‘Do not argue with the followers of earlier revelations otherwise than in a most kindly manner…’
(Qu’ran 29:46)

Despite the affirmative announcements from these two men – the reality of tolerance never became a thing of permanency. In the Middle East, from Constantine’s century onwards, Sunni and Shi’ite divisions emerged in Islam and and in the west, schisms in Catholicism took hold – Western Europeans (in particular) endured burnings and torture as Catholics and Protestants bludgeoned it out across the centuries proclaiming the heretical nature of the other. John Locke, the 17^thcentury English philosopher, who philosophised consistently if not prodigiously on toleration wrote in his ‘letter on toleration’ (against the backdrop of this religious fire and fury) that religious toleration was about allowing persons to be free to practice their faith without fear of persecution. Again, the jury remains out as to whether anyone paid attention.

This is where writing my own blog is such fun: I agree with Emperor Constantine The Great, The Prophet Mohammed (PBUH) and the Oxford Scholar and world renowned philosopher John Locke – we should tolerate religious belief in so far as it should be permitted without persecution. Where I disagree is on how much ‘respect’ I should be obligated to give it. That should be saved for ‘faith’.

Some were less tolerant that others.

Let’s start with ‘toleration’. I think there can be agreement that Locke’s definition of religious toleration is a good enough universal understanding of the term. Let’s allow fellow humans to worship in peace so long as that doing so contravenes no objectively held moral no-no’s (like, no-one should tolerate a return to Mayan sacrificial ceremonies – even if there’s ‘pot-luck’ afterwards).  Subjectively speaking, toleration is about standing aside, but not following behind. It’s about taking a person’s way of practicing or speaking on a topic –  recognising a connection to a more concrete aspect of our shared humanity but not necessarily committing to its values and beliefs. For example, I don’t necessarily agree or get behind views espoused by right-wing politicians…but I tolerate their opinions because I fundamentally respect free speech. Respect the intrinsic right, tolerate the subjective practice.

Respect is different from toleration. Respect requires you to not only allow but also recognize and give obligations to the necessary elements of a thing because those elements have an intrinsic worth (possibly because it is a universally shared trait or an objective moral good).  For example, I always think that those who serve in the military are a good illustration of this. We would all agree that we must tolerate (to some degree) decisions made by democratically elected governments, even if their surface ideology isn’t aligned with ours. Even more divisive is when those governments vote for military conflict. All that said and however we may feel about those politicians who vote to using force, the men and women who serve their countries commit to an element of sacrifice to a higher cause, above and beyond their own lives, a transcendental sense of duty and that obligates our respect, that ‘oughts’ us to listen, respond and respect in that calling, irrespective of how we might feel about a governments’ decision.

So, what we tolerate – we permit, but we are not obligated to do any more than allow it to exist without persecution. What we respect, we are obligated to be party to some or all of its cause, aligning ourselves with some value – for there is some universally agreed element of that thing  be it objectively ‘good’ or a shared human element that we must allow and accept. To this end, I tolerate the practice of religion – but save my respect for everyone’s capacity for faith.

What the theist will most likely struggle with here is my desire to bifurcate faith and religion (I’ll be honest, I wrote this blog more than partly to use word ‘bifurcate’…tick). Faith is a fundamental and indispensable part of religion. It is the engine that drives a belief system that a divine power:  unobservable, untestable and unmeasurable can still exact force and cause on a natural world. Faith (in its religious context) is the belief in something that we cannot see, hear, touch or taste  but that forces  control over our lives and every single atom on the planet. So why do I respect ‘faith’ when I don’t necessarily agree that such a thing exists? For me, the intrinsic part of a person’s faith is the belief in something greater than themselves which, practiced at its best, is something which is a force for good. Examples can be found in Art and Music, particularly religious music. I respect those individual persons whose belief in a higher ‘good’ (and it must be ‘good’ to be worthy of respect) can move them to create music and art that transcends, inspires and invigorates. Faith moves us beyond the limits of ourselves.

I want to maintain the word ‘faith’ as narrowly defined in its spiritual understanding. I recognise we can ‘have faith’ in events yet unfolded that we hope will be positive or ‘faith’ in other people’s best selves – but for the purpose of clarity and semantic truth, I am using ‘faith’ to mean belief in an unseen deity (or deities).  It’s a committed move on my account – because I must establish that ‘faith’ whilst differently perceived between persons, is an intrinsic element of being human – therefore, as we should respect human freedom, pursuit of happiness and our own and others physical fidelity ; we respect faith because it could be argued to be what makes us uniquely human. For the atheist or the phenomenologist – Faith is either illusory or a construct to make sense of a world out of our control and whose mechanical clicks and whirrs we are but witnesses too… but I wonder if the necessary presence of a capacity for faith, even faith that a mechanical universe can click at all – is power enough to make it worthy of respect? . Maybe that’s a topic for another blog.

To cleave ‘faith’ and ‘religion’ I am establishing that ‘faith’ is an intrinsic human quality that we all possess that allows us to doubt the limitations of our senses and believe in powers unseen. However, to categorize, rationalize and order this component of our humanity – humans turn to religion. Religion is the ordered and proselytized practice of the doctrine of scripture and its codes of conduct. It is the thing that takes the natural element of our ‘faith’ and utilitarianizes into ‘do such and such’ for a good outcome and ‘avoid such and such’ to negate a bad outcome. It is how humans have practiced their faith and has changed over the eons. From a panoply of Gods to the axial age of monotheism. From deities in your drinking water to deities in your dreams. And as prophets, seers and shamans have codified and sought to rationalize this unseen phenomenon so we are fraught with scriptural contradictions, contrary understandings and at worst, the appropriation of words of conduct twisted to make normal that which should be abominable. Such is the complexity and fallibility of religious teaching.

The constant unchanging form – is the faith that sustains them. Religion needs faith, more than faith needs religion.

Conclusion

If faith is a part of who we are and is what connects us as humans, then it is worthy of our respect. We should tolerate others’ views and practices (where doing so contravenes no civil or universal moral law) because in doing so we are ourselves lifted. However, never forget the essence which drives all of this – a capacity for faith. The essence which juices your self-belief when all things seem low, because maybe someone or something out there will provide for the best you can be. It’s what coaches your drive to be as good as you possibly can be – the faith that there could be a greater version of you existing beyond, though not impossibly beyond, your natural world. Let’s all respect that capacity for faith both within ourselves and others – and tolerate that joy and passion to be expressed by the clasping of hands, the removal of shoes, the bowing of heads, and the recitation of prayers.

September 25, 2021