Quotes & Sayings


We, and creation itself, actualize the possibilities of the God who sustains the world, towards becoming in the world in a fuller, more deeper way. - R.E. Slater

There is urgency in coming to see the world as a web of interrelated processes of which we are integral parts, so that all of our choices and actions have [consequential effects upon] the world around us. - Process Metaphysician Alfred North Whitehead

Kurt Gödel's Incompleteness Theorem says (i) all closed systems are unprovable within themselves and, that (ii) all open systems are rightly understood as incomplete. - R.E. Slater

The most true thing about you is what God has said to you in Christ, "You are My Beloved." - Tripp Fuller

The God among us is the God who refuses to be God without us, so great is God's Love. - Tripp Fuller

According to some Christian outlooks we were made for another world. Perhaps, rather, we were made for this world to recreate, reclaim, redeem, and renew unto God's future aspiration by the power of His Spirit. - R.E. Slater

Our eschatological ethos is to love. To stand with those who are oppressed. To stand against those who are oppressing. It is that simple. Love is our only calling and Christian Hope. - R.E. Slater

Secularization theory has been massively falsified. We don't live in an age of secularity. We live in an age of explosive, pervasive religiosity... an age of religious pluralism. - Peter L. Berger

Exploring the edge of life and faith in a post-everything world. - Todd Littleton

I don't need another reason to believe, your love is all around for me to see. – Anon

Thou art our need; and in giving us more of thyself thou givest us all. - Khalil Gibran, Prayer XXIII

Be careful what you pretend to be. You become what you pretend to be. - Kurt Vonnegut

Religious beliefs, far from being primary, are often shaped and adjusted by our social goals. - Jim Forest

We become who we are by what we believe and can justify. - R.E. Slater

People, even more than things, need to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed; never throw out anyone. – Anon

Certainly, God's love has made fools of us all. - R.E. Slater

An apocalyptic Christian faith doesn't wait for Jesus to come, but for Jesus to become in our midst. - R.E. Slater

Christian belief in God begins with the cross and resurrection of Jesus, not with rational apologetics. - Eberhard Jüngel, Jürgen Moltmann

Our knowledge of God is through the 'I-Thou' encounter, not in finding God at the end of a syllogism or argument. There is a grave danger in any Christian treatment of God as an object. The God of Jesus Christ and Scripture is irreducibly subject and never made as an object, a force, a power, or a principle that can be manipulated. - Emil Brunner

“Ehyeh Asher Ehyeh” means "I will be that who I have yet to become." - God (Ex 3.14) or, conversely, “I AM who I AM Becoming.”

Our job is to love others without stopping to inquire whether or not they are worthy. - Thomas Merton

The church is God's world-changing social experiment of bringing unlikes and differents to the Eucharist/Communion table to share life with one another as a new kind of family. When this happens, we show to the world what love, justice, peace, reconciliation, and life together is designed by God to be. The church is God's show-and-tell for the world to see how God wants us to live as a blended, global, polypluralistic family united with one will, by one Lord, and baptized by one Spirit. – Anon

The cross that is planted at the heart of the history of the world cannot be uprooted. - Jacques Ellul

The Unity in whose loving presence the universe unfolds is inside each person as a call to welcome the stranger, protect animals and the earth, respect the dignity of each person, think new thoughts, and help bring about ecological civilizations. - John Cobb & Farhan A. Shah

If you board the wrong train it is of no use running along the corridors of the train in the other direction. - Dietrich Bonhoeffer

God's justice is restorative rather than punitive; His discipline is merciful rather than punishing; His power is made perfect in weakness; and His grace is sufficient for all. – Anon

Our little [biblical] systems have their day; they have their day and cease to be. They are but broken lights of Thee, and Thou, O God art more than they. - Alfred Lord Tennyson

We can’t control God; God is uncontrollable. God can’t control us; God’s love is uncontrolling! - Thomas Jay Oord

Life in perspective but always in process... as we are relational beings in process to one another, so life events are in process in relation to each event... as God is to Self, is to world, is to us... like Father, like sons and daughters, like events... life in process yet always in perspective. - R.E. Slater

To promote societal transition to sustainable ways of living and a global society founded on a shared ethical framework which includes respect and care for the community of life, ecological integrity, universal human rights, respect for diversity, economic justice, democracy, and a culture of peace. - The Earth Charter Mission Statement

Christian humanism is the belief that human freedom, individual conscience, and unencumbered rational inquiry are compatible with the practice of Christianity or even intrinsic in its doctrine. It represents a philosophical union of Christian faith and classical humanist principles. - Scott Postma

It is never wise to have a self-appointed religious institution determine a nation's moral code. The opportunities for moral compromise and failure are high; the moral codes and creeds assuredly racist, discriminatory, or subjectively and religiously defined; and the pronouncement of inhumanitarian political objectives quite predictable. - R.E. Slater

God's love must both center and define the Christian faith and all religious or human faiths seeking human and ecological balance in worlds of subtraction, harm, tragedy, and evil. - R.E. Slater

In Whitehead’s process ontology, we can think of the experiential ground of reality as an eternal pulse whereby what is objectively public in one moment becomes subjectively prehended in the next, and whereby the subject that emerges from its feelings then perishes into public expression as an object (or “superject”) aiming for novelty. There is a rhythm of Being between object and subject, not an ontological division. This rhythm powers the creative growth of the universe from one occasion of experience to the next. This is the Whiteheadian mantra: “The many become one and are increased by one.” - Matthew Segall

Without Love there is no Truth. And True Truth is always Loving. There is no dichotomy between these terms but only seamless integration. This is the premier centering focus of a Processual Theology of Love. - R.E. Slater

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Note: Generally I do not respond to commentary. I may read the comments but wish to reserve my time to write (or write from the comments I read). Instead, I'd like to see our community help one another and in the helping encourage and exhort each of us towards Christian love in Christ Jesus our Lord and Savior. - re slater

Thursday, September 10, 2026

What If Process Comes Before Relation? (41)



ESSAY FORTY-ONE
VI. Encountering Other Philosophies of Reality

Reality → Ontology → Metaphysics → Interpretation → Ethics → Participation

What If Process Comes Before Relation?

Metaphysics XLI — Process Philosophy, Event Ontology, and a Reality That Happens

by R.E. Slater and ChatGPT


REFLECTIONS ON PROCESSUAL BECOMING

The river is never merely still.
It flows. It changes. It becomes.

The living body does not first exist
and then begin to live.
Its living is its existence.

Perhaps reality is like this.

Perhaps things are not the beginning of change,
but temporary forms within change.

Perhaps what appears to endure
is what becoming looks like
when becoming acquires continuity.

And perhaps before asking what things are,
we should ask what is becoming.

- R.E. Slater


Essay Outline
Preface: But Nothing Stands Still
I. The Problem of Change
II. From Change to Becoming
III. What If Change Is Not Secondary?
IV. A Reality That Happens
V. Philosophies of Change, Process, and Becoming
VI. Can Persistence Itself Be Processual?
VII. Does Becoming Require Relation?
VIII. Being, Relation, and Becoming
Conclusion: What If None Comes First?
Suggested Readings and Further Exploration
Why Were These Authors Chosen?


Preface: But Nothing Stands Still

Essay Forty asked us to begin with the thing.

The question seemed almost unavoidable. If relations exist, must there not be something capable of being related? Relations require relata. Yet the closer we examined things, the more difficult it became to understand them apart from the relations through which they are constituted, sustained, distinguished, and changed.

Things require relations.

Relations require things.

Neither observation established which, if either, possesses ontological priority.

But while we were examining things and relations, something else had been occurring all along.

Everything was happening, becoming, changing.

Galaxies rotated. Clouds formed. Cells divided. Continents shifted. Languages changed. People remembered and forgot. The things we were trying to understand did not merely exist in relation. They possessed histories.

This introduces a third problem.

Perhaps reality cannot be adequately understood simply by asking what exists and how what exists is related. We must also ask how reality moves from one condition to another.

What is change?

What is movement?

What is process?

What is becoming?

And what if these are not merely things that happen to an otherwise completed reality?

What if change = becoming = happening belongs to how reality exists?

The distinction is important because three claims that initially sound similar are actually quite different:

Reality changes.

Some realities are processes.

Reality is fundamentally processual.

Almost every serious metaphysics can accept the first. Many can accept the second. The third is considerably stronger. It proposes that process is not merely one feature of reality among others but belongs to its fundamental constitution.

Substance metaphysics begins naturally with beings capable of change. Process philosophy asks whether this explanatory direction can be reversed. Perhaps relatively enduring beings emerge within processes already occurring. Perhaps persistence itself sometimes has to be accomplished.

The possibility is simple to state but profound in consequence:

What if reality does not first consist of things that change, but of change from which things emerge?

Essay Forty left us with:

Being ↔ Relation

Now another term enters the inquiry.

Becoming.


I. The Problem of Change

Change is so ordinary that its philosophical difficulty is easy to overlook.

A wound heals. Iron rusts. A storm intensifies. A language acquires new words. A memory fades. A musical performance moves from its opening note toward its conclusion.

We ordinarily describe such occurrences by identifying something and then saying what happens to it.

Something exists.

Something happens.

The thing changes.

This grammatical structure quietly encourages a metaphysical picture:

Being → Change

There is nothing obviously wrong with that picture. Aristotle already demonstrated that a philosophy centered upon substances need not imagine a frozen universe. Through his distinctions between potentiality and actuality, matter and form, Aristotle could describe beings as possessing genuine capacities for transformation. What something can become depends partly upon what it already is.

Process philosophy therefore cannot establish its case merely by pointing out that things change.

The more interesting question is whether an account of what can change also explains why reality is continually changing - or whether change itself deserves greater metaphysical significance.

Consider a heartbeat.

We can speak of the heart as an organ. It has structure, mass, tissues, chambers, valves, and vessels. Yet a functioning heart is not merely an anatomical object to which beating happens as an incidental property. Its contractions, electrical conduction, pressure changes, and circulation belong to what it means for the heart to function as a living heart.

The distinction becomes stark when the beating permanently ceases. Much of the material remains immediately afterward. The organ has not vanished. Yet something fundamental has changed.

This suggests a possibility that substance metaphysics does not necessarily deny but that process philosophy places nearer the center:

Some realities do not merely undergo processes. Their continuing existence as the kinds of realities they are depends upon processes continuing.

That still does not prove that reality itself is fundamentally processual. We therefore need to distinguish the argument carefully. That things change is one claim. That some things exist through continuing processes is another. That the things themselves are ultimately derivative from process is stronger still.

Only the third would establish anything resembling the ontological priority of process.

And so our question becomes more precise:

Is change something that happens to being, or can being itself sometimes be an achievement of change?


II. From Change to Becoming

Several terms now require distinction because change, movement, event, process, flow, and becoming are related without being identical.

Change is the broadest. Something differs from how it was before.

Movement describes transition, most obviously through space but also, in older philosophical usage, transitions between states.

An event is an occurrence. A glass shatters. Lightning strikes. A door closes. Something happens that can, at least approximately, be distinguished from what preceded and followed it.

A process is temporally extended activity. The crack spreads through the glass. A storm develops. A wound heals. A language evolves. Processes possess duration and internal succession.

Flow emphasizes continuity. It directs attention away from discrete states toward the transitions connecting them.

Becoming makes the strongest metaphysical suggestion. Something becomes actual that was not previously actual in precisely that form. Becoming therefore concerns not merely difference but the production of a new actuality from prior conditions.

These distinctions immediately create difficulties.

Is an event simply a short process?

Is a process a sequence of events?

Or do we divide a continuous becoming into events because human thought finds bounded occurrences easier to identify?

Consider a piece of glass falling from a table. We might identify the impact as an event: the glass shattered. Yet high-speed observation would reveal fractures propagating through the material across an interval. What appears instantaneous at one scale becomes processual at another.

The distinction between event and process may therefore depend partly upon scale, description, and the boundaries we impose upon what happens.

Becoming raises a still larger question.

Suppose a biological lineage develops a structure that allows a new kind of locomotion. The novelty does more than add another actuality to the world. It can open environments, behaviors, ecological relationships, and evolutionary pathways that were unavailable to that lineage before.

In such cases becoming appears to move in two directions:

possibility → actuality

but also:

actuality → new possibilities

What becomes can alter what can subsequently become.

This does not prove that becoming is metaphysically fundamental. A substance philosopher can interpret such novelty through changing substances and their powers. A physicalist can appeal to physical processes. A structural realist may describe transformations of structure.

But the phenomenon deserves explanation.

If the actual history of reality can alter the possibilities available to later reality, then history is not merely a sequence of interchangeable states.

What happens matters.

The question process philosophy presses is therefore not simply whether reality changes.

It is:

What kind of reality must reality be for becoming to be possible at all?


III. What If Change Is Not Secondary?

Process philosophy changes where explanation begins.

Instead of beginning with an enduring thing and asking how it changes, it asks whether at least some enduring things might themselves arise from sufficiently stable patterns of activity.

The contrast can be stated simply:

Substance-first: Being → Change

versus:

Process-first: Becoming → relatively stable forms of Being

Neither formula should be exaggerated. Substance metaphysics can contain sophisticated accounts of change, and process metaphysics need not deny recognizable individuals. The disagreement concerns explanatory priority.

Consider a traffic jam.

At first this seems an almost comically ordinary example. Yet it poses a surprisingly difficult ontological question. A traffic jam can persist for hours on a highway. Cars enter at the rear and eventually leave at the front. After enough time, none of the automobiles that originally constituted the jam may remain within it. Yet the traffic report still refers to the congestion.

More strangely, the traffic jam itself can propagate backward along the highway even though nearly every automobile within it is attempting to move forward. What, exactly, is moving backward? Not a particular collection of cars. Not a fixed piece of matter.

What persists is an organized pattern of movement and constraint produced through continually changing participants.

A wave presents something similar. The wave moves across water, but the water itself does not travel with the wave in the same manner. What propagates is an organized disturbance through a medium.

Such examples suggest that continuity need not always depend upon material sameness. Sometimes it depends upon organized recurrence. This is where process philosophy acquires considerable explanatory force. Instead of asking only:

What remains the same while something changes?

we can ask:

What pattern of activity must continue for something to remain the kind of reality it is?

The shift is substantial.

A reality need not always be imagined as a static bearer of changing properties. It may instead be a temporally extended organization whose recognizable continuity depends upon ongoing activity.

This does not establish that everything is fundamentally process. A boulder and a traffic jam may not possess the same ontological character. The temptation to derive a universal metaphysics from especially convenient examples should be resisted.

But process philosophy has already forced an important concession.

At least some realities seem easier to understand as organized happenings than as enduring things to which happenings are subsequently added.

The question is how far that insight reaches.


IV. A Reality That Happens

Consider a hurricane.

We give it a name. We locate it on maps. We speak of where it is going, how large it has become, and how long it has existed. In ordinary language it behaves remarkably like a thing.

Yet what is the hurricane?

It is not a fixed body of air or water. Matter and energy continually enter, move through, and leave the system. Its organization depends upon atmospheric pressure, ocean temperature, moisture, rotation, convection, and surrounding weather conditions. Its boundaries are real enough to matter enormously but not sharp in the way the surface of a manufactured object appears sharp.

The hurricane forms. It intensifies. It moves. It reorganizes. It weakens. Eventually it ceases to exist as a hurricane. At what point did it become a thing rather than a happening? But perhaps that question already assumes too much. The hurricane may be real precisely as an organized atmospheric process. Its identity need not depend upon possessing an unchanging material core.

This changes how we think about stability.

Stability and change need not be opposites.

A system can remain recognizable because changes within it remain sufficiently organized. A maintained pattern may be dynamically stable precisely because activity continually sustains it.

Stability can be something activity accomplishes.

This observation weakens the intuition that whatever is most real must be whatever changes least.

A process ontology pushes the proposal farther. Perhaps many of the apparently enduring realities around us are temporally extended organizations whose persistence depends upon histories of interaction, transformation, and renewal.

Under this description, reality ceases to resemble a completed inventory of objects.

It becomes historical.

This does not mean that process implies progress. Hurricanes destroy. Diseases spread. Ecosystems collapse. Stars exhaust their fuel. Societies can become more violent as readily as more humane.

Process is not another word for progress.

Becoming is not another word for improvement.

To say that reality happens is not to say that what happens is good.

The process claim is ontological rather than moral:

Reality may be temporally productive rather than merely temporally occupied.

By temporally productive, we mean that time is not simply a container in which already constituted things happen. What happens through time produces new actualities, configurations, relations, and possibilities. Reality does not merely exist in time; reality becomes through time. This is what is meant by the word, "productive." Another substitute for productive might be "creative" -

Reality may be temporally creative rather than merely temporally occupied.

The present would then be more than a location through which already constituted realities pass. What happens in the present participates in producing what follows.

But this raises another difficulty.

If a hurricane is fundamentally processual, where exactly does this process begin and end?


V. Philosophies of Change, Process, and Becoming

The philosophical problem is ancient, but its history is not simply a succession of thinkers repeating that everything changes. Different philosophers progressively altered what change itself was understood to mean.

We might describe one trajectory as:

Flux → Change → Duration → Transition → Event → Process → Becoming

Heraclitus stands near the beginning. The surviving fragments resist the simplified slogan that everything merely flows, yet they repeatedly draw attention toward transformation, opposition, tension, and an ordered world that cannot be equated with immobility. The famous river imagery captures the puzzle: waters differ, yet the river remains intelligible as a river.

Heraclitus makes change difficult to ignore.

Aristotle makes change intelligible.

His account of potentiality and actuality explains how something can become otherwise without requiring that being dissolve into chaos. Change occurs because existing realities possess determinate capacities. An actuality can emerge from a genuine potentiality grounded in what a thing is.

This matters because process philosophy cannot claim change as its exclusive discovery. The deeper disagreement concerns whether beings finally explain becoming or becoming helps explain beings.

Henri Bergson intensifies the problem by turning attention toward duration. For Bergson, lived time cannot be adequately represented by arranging static moments beside one another as though time were simply another spatial dimension divided into identical units. Duration is experienced as continuity in which past and present interpenetrate.

Imagine a melody. If we isolate every note and treat each as a self-contained object, we lose something essential. The melody exists through the ordered continuity by which earlier notes remain relevant as later notes arrive. Its temporal character cannot simply be removed while leaving the melody unchanged. There would be no melody.

Bergson therefore makes duration difficult to reduce to a collection of states.

William James makes transition philosophically important. His famous description of consciousness as a stream resists the picture of experience as a collection of isolated mental atoms. Experience includes movement, conjunction, tendency, and passage. The transitions are not merely empty gaps separating supposedly more substantial moments.

James's radical empiricism pushes the insight farther: relations and transitions may themselves belong to what is experienced rather than being constructions externally imposed upon disconnected experiences.

Alfred North Whitehead makes the strongest move of all.

He makes becoming ontological.

Whitehead's mature metaphysics replaces the traditional picture of fundamentally enduring substances with a reality whose basic actualities are occurrences - what he calls actual occasions or actual entities. What appears to us as an enduring object can then be understood through organized continuities, or “societies,” of occasions.

Becoming is no longer merely something that happens to an already finished actuality.

Becoming is how actuality comes to be.

Yet Whitehead also complicates the very hypothesis we are investigating.

His process is relational through and through. An actual occasion does not emerge in isolation. Its becoming incorporates antecedent reality and contributes to the reality inherited by what follows.

Whitehead therefore does not straightforwardly give us:

Process → Relation

His philosophy suggests something more entangled.

Process is relational. Relation is processual.

The more seriously we take Whitehead as a process philosopher, the harder it becomes to use him as evidence that process simply possesses ontological priority over relation.

This is important.

Our task is not to make Essay Forty's substance metaphysics lose so that process philosophy can win. Nor is Whitehead being recruited to return us covertly to a relational metaphysics we already prefer and have developed.

The encounter has produced a genuine difficulty from within process philosophy itself.

If becoming is inherently relational, perhaps asking whether process comes before relation misconstrues both.

Still, process philosophy has made one major contribution impossible to overlook:

Temporality may belong inside ontology rather than merely surrounding it.

A reality may not first become complete and then be placed into time.

Its history may also belong to what it is.


VI. Can Persistence Itself Be Processual?

Consider a coral reef.

A reef may persist for centuries or millennia, yet its persistence bears little resemblance to that of a manufactured object sitting undisturbed on a shelf. Organisms live, reproduce, compete, cooperate, and die. Calcium carbonate structures accumulate. New organisms colonize older structures. Currents bring nutrients and remove waste. Storms damage portions of the reef. Temperatures change it. Species distributions shift within it.

The reef has material continuity, but it is not materially identical through time.

It possesses structure, but the structure changes.

It is biological, geological, ecological, and historical at once.

What, then, persists?

The question suggests that persistence itself may take several forms. There can be material persistence, structural persistence, organizational persistence, functional persistence, and historical persistence. Different realities may endure in different ways.

Process philosophy's strongest insight may therefore be less radical than the claim that everything is process - and for that reason perhaps more difficult to dismiss:

Persistence may not be the absence of change. Persistence may be an achievement of organized change.

This reframes a problem that substance metaphysics taught us to ask.

Instead of assuming that persistence supplies the stable background against which change occurs, perhaps some forms of persistence are themselves continuously produced.

Personal identity makes the issue especially vivid.

The adult is not materially identical to the infant. The body has developed. Memories have accumulated and disappeared. Beliefs have changed. Relationships have formed and dissolved. Capacities have emerged that the infant did not possess.

Yet the adult can look at an old photograph and say:

I was that child.

What grounds that statement?

Substance metaphysics can interpret it as the persistence of one being through extensive change.

Process philosophy can ask whether identity instead - or additionally - involves continuity within a developing history.

Perhaps something endures.

Perhaps a sufficiently integrated history continues.

Perhaps both descriptions capture something real.

But process philosophy now encounters a problem analogous to the one faced by substance metaphysics.

What makes one process one process?

The hurricane emerged gradually from atmospheric conditions that preceded it. The reef cannot be separated completely from the ocean, organisms, climate, and geology through which it exists. A human life emerges from biological, familial, cultural, ecological, and historical processes that extend beyond any individual.

Where does one process end and another begin?

This is a problem of process individuation.

If things require explanation because their boundaries and identities can be difficult to establish, processes inherit the same difficulty. Calling something a process does not by itself explain what makes it this process rather than some larger or smaller process of which it is a part.

Process philosophy therefore gains explanatory power but not explanatory immunity.

Still, it has accomplished something important.

Even if process is not ultimately fundamental,

persistence no longer looks quite as static as it once did.

Some things may endure precisely because something continues to happen.


VII. Does Becoming Require Relation?

We can now return to the question announced by our title.

What if process comes before relation?

At first, the proposal seems plausible. If reality is fundamentally activity, perhaps relations emerge when processes encounter one another.

But can we actually describe a process containing no relation?

Movement implies transition between positions or states. Change distinguishes what was from what becomes. Development connects earlier and later phases. Causation, insofar as it is real, connects occurrences across some order of dependence.

Process seems difficult to isolate from relation.

The reverse problem appears just as quickly.

Can relation in an evolving universe be adequately conceived without process?

Physical interactions have consequences. Ecological relations alter organisms and environments. Human relationships develop, deepen, weaken, and sometimes disappear. Relations in such cases are not simply motionless lines connecting already completed entities.

They participate in what happens.

So perhaps:

Relation → Process

because processes require differences, connections, transitions, and conditions.

But perhaps:

Process → Relation

because processes generate new configurations, boundaries, entities, and possibilities of interaction.

This reciprocal difficulty exposes an even deeper question:

Does becoming require something that becomes?

The question mirrors the problem inherited from Essay Forty.

There we asked:

Can there be relation without relata?

Now we must ask:

Can there be becoming without something that becomes?

A substance metaphysician may say no. Becoming presupposes some being whose possibilities are actualized through change.

A process philosopher can reverse the explanation. What we call the “thing” that becomes may itself be constituted through a sufficiently continuous history of becoming. The entity need not exist in completed form prior to the process that produces and sustains it.

But that answer introduces its own difficulty. If the identity of the entity is explained by its process of becoming, what establishes the continuity by which we recognize successive phases as belonging to the same becoming?

The problem does not disappear.

It moves.

And process brings another unavoidable dimension with it.

Time.

Every process seems to contain some form of succession. Something precedes; something follows. An event occurs. A transition unfolds. Becoming distinguishes what has become from what is becoming.

Does process therefore require time?

Or might the ordered succession of processes help constitute what we mean by time?

We should not attempt to settle that question here. Time will eventually require its own sustained examination. For now it is enough to notice that process cannot be made fundamental without raising questions about temporality along with it.

Essay Forty left us with:

Being ↔ Relation

Essay Forty-One now adds:

Being ↔ Relation ↔ Becoming

But these arrows are not an answer.

They identify a problem.


VIII. Being, Relation, and Becoming

Our inquiry began with things.

Things led us toward relations.

Relations and things led us toward change.

Change led toward process.

Process led toward becoming.

And becoming has returned us to things and relations ↺

Something interesting has happened along the way.

Each category appears capable of explaining something about the others while also requiring them for aspects of its own explanation.

Being gives us something capable of persistence, relation, and change.

Relation gives us connection, dependence, differentiation, and conditions through which beings can affect and constitute one another.

Becoming gives us transition, history, transformation, and the production of realities that were not previously actual in the same form.

Yet being must explain how it is constituted and sustained.

Relation must explain what is related and how relations acquire efficacy.

Becoming must explain continuity, individuation, and what it means for something to become.

The explanatory arrows run in more than one direction.

We might call this a problem of reciprocal explanation.

That is not the same as saying that being, relation, and becoming are equally fundamental. Nor does it establish that all three are metaphysical primitives.

  • Perhaps one eventually explains the others.
  • Perhaps two are mutually constitutive.
  • Perhaps all three arise from something more fundamental.
  • Perhaps the search for a single ontological primitive imposes upon reality a simplicity reality itself does not possess.
  • Or perhaps being, relation, and becoming are conceptual abstractions from one reality that cannot finally be divided according to the categories through which we investigate it.

At this point, we do not know.

But process philosophy has changed the inquiry.

It has shown us that an enduring reality need not be understood as a reality protected from change. Sometimes endurance occurs through change. It has shown that histories may belong to what realities are rather than merely recording what happens to them. It has shown that temporality may belong inside our account of actuality. And it has shown that becoming cannot easily be separated from either the beings that become or the relations through which becoming occurs.

We therefore arrive not at:

Being → Relation → Becoming

nor:

Becoming → Relation → Being

but at the more difficult recognition:

Being ↔ Relation ↔ Becoming

Not a solution.

A map of the problem.


Conclusion: What If None Comes First?

We asked what reality might look like if process came before relation.

For a while, the possibility seemed promising. Traffic jams persist while their constituent vehicles change. Hurricanes exist through organized atmospheric activity. Coral reefs endure through generations of biological and geological transformation. Human identity unfolds through histories that cannot simply be removed from what persons become.

Process philosophy therefore gives us good reason to reconsider a familiar intuition:

Reality does not merely seem to be. Reality happens.

But process did not finally free itself from relation. Relation did not free itself from beings. And beings did not remain untouched by becoming.

Perhaps one of these will eventually prove fundamental.

Perhaps none will.

At this point another philosopher might reasonably enter the conversation and wonder whether we have made the problem unnecessarily complicated.

Why suppose that reality itself must be divided among metaphysical categories such as substance, relation, process, and becoming?

Why not begin instead with what the natural sciences investigate?

Particles. Fields. Energy. Spacetime. Chemical systems. Organisms. Brains. Ecosystems. Galaxies.

Perhaps being, relation, and becoming are not competing metaphysical foundations at all.

Perhaps they are different descriptions of what physical reality is and does.

If so, the next question is unavoidable:

What if reality is fundamentally physical?

And once again, we begin somewhere else.

 


Suggested Readings and Further Exploration

Primary and Classical Sources

Aristotle. Metaphysics. Translated by W. D. Ross. In The Complete Works of Aristotle, vol. 2, edited by Jonathan Barnes. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984.

Aristotle. Physics. Translated by R. P. Hardie and R. K. Gaye. In The Complete Works of Aristotle, vol. 1, edited by Jonathan Barnes. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984.

Heraclitus. The Art and Thought of Heraclitus: An Edition of the Fragments with Translation and Commentary. Edited and translated by Charles H. Kahn. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979.

Process, Duration, and Experience

Bergson, Henri. Creative Evolution. Translated by Arthur Mitchell. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1911.

Bergson, Henri. Time and Free Will: An Essay on the Immediate Data of Consciousness. Translated by F. L. Pogson. London: George Allen, 1910.

James, William. Essays in Radical Empiricism. New York: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1912.

James, William. The Principles of Psychology. 2 vols. New York: Henry Holt and Company, 1890.

Whitehead and Process Metaphysics

Whitehead, Alfred North. Adventures of Ideas. New York: Macmillan, 1933.

Whitehead, Alfred North. Process and Reality: An Essay in Cosmology. Corrected ed. Edited by David Ray Griffin and Donald W. Sherburne. New York: Free Press, 1978.

Whitehead, Alfred North. Science and the Modern World. New York: Macmillan, 1925.

Contemporary Process Philosophy

Dupré, John, and Daniel J. Nicholson, eds. Everything Flows: Towards a Processual Philosophy of Biology. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018.

Rescher, Nicholas. Process Metaphysics: An Introduction to Process Philosophy. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1996.

Seibt, Johanna. “Process Philosophy.” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. First published October 15, 2012; substantive revision May 26, 2022.


Why Were These Authors Chosen?

For the ancient problem of change, Heraclitus remains indispensable, particularly the surviving fragments concerning flux, opposition, and the river imagery later associated with his thought. Aristotle's Physics and Metaphysics provide the classical alternative to a process-first ontology, especially through the concepts of change, substance, potentiality, and actuality. These works are especially important here because Aristotle demonstrates that taking change seriously does not itself require making process metaphysically fundamental.

For the modern transition toward processual understandings of reality, Henri Bergson's Time and Free Will and Creative Evolution develop the importance of duration, temporality, and creative development. William James's The Principles of Psychology is especially important for the stream of consciousness, while Essays in Radical Empiricism extends James's concern with experience, relations, and transitions into a broader philosophical setting.

The most systematic modern process metaphysics remains Alfred North Whitehead's Process and Reality. Readers approaching Whitehead for the first time may also find Science and the Modern World and Adventures of Ideas more accessible entrances into his criticism of substance-centered thinking and his attempt to understand nature dynamically. For Essay Forty-One in particular, Whitehead's concepts of actual occasions, becoming, prehension, and societies are relevant because they show how persistence can be reconstructed through organized patterns of events rather than assumed as the fundamental starting point.

Contemporary process philosophy extends well beyond Whitehead. Nicholas Rescher's Process Metaphysics: An Introduction to Process Philosophy offers a systematic philosophical account of process as a metaphysical category. Johanna Seibt's work on process ontology is particularly useful for contemporary attempts to formulate process metaphysics without simply reproducing Whitehead's categorical scheme. Work in the philosophy of biology has likewise renewed interest in organisms as dynamically maintained processes rather than static substances, especially John Dupré and Daniel J. Nicholson's edited volume Everything Flows: Towards a Processual Philosophy of Biology.

Taken together, these thinkers trace an important philosophical movement from the ancient problem of change toward increasingly processual accounts of duration, transition, event, persistence, and becoming. They have been chosen not because they speak with one voice, but because together they help us understand why philosophers have repeatedly wondered whether reality is adequately described by what is, or whether what happens must also belong to our account of what is real.



Wednesday, September 9, 2026

What If Things Come Before Relations? (40)



The Metaphysical Rock

There once was a Thing on a stone,
Which insisted it stood quite alone.
But relations appeared,
And the Thing became weird -
“Am I substance, or all that I’ve known?”

- R.E. Slater and ChatGPT

ESSAY FORTY
VI. Encountering Other Philosophies of Reality

Reality → Ontology → Metaphysics → Interpretation → Ethics → Participation

What If Things Come Before Relations?

Metaphysics XL — Substance Metaphysics, Aristotelian Ontology, and Intrinsic Being

by R.E. Slater and ChatGPT


REFLECTIONS ON THINGS

Something changes.
But what is the something that changes?

Before asking what a thing is related to,
perhaps we ask whether there must first be a thing.

Before a thing can enter a relation,
must there first be something that can be related?

Perhaps reality does not begin between things.
Perhaps it begins with things capable of relation.

If process presupposes relation,
does relation presuppose something that relates?

Relation may explain connection.
Substance asks what there is to connect.

- R.E. Slater


Essay Outline
Preface: Beginning With the Thing
I. What Does It Mean for Something to Be a Substance?
II. Aristotle and the Reality of the Individual Thing
III. Matter, Form, and What Makes a Thing What It Is
IV. Persistence Through Change
V. Potentiality, Actuality, and the Powers of Things
VI. Must Things Exist Before They Can Be Related?
VII. What Substance Metaphysics Allows Us to See
VIII. Where the Question Becomes Difficult
Conclusion: A World of Things
Suggested Readings and Further Exploration
Why Were These Authors Chosen?
Apdx A - Substance Metaphysics at a Glance


Preface: Beginning With the Thing

Look around.

A table. A chair. A book. A tree beyond the window. A person walking down the street. Whatever else we may eventually say about these realities, they first appear to us as things. We distinguish one from another. The tree is not the soil beneath it. The person is not the street upon which she walks. The book is not the table upon which it rests.

Of course, none of these things exists without relations. The tree depends upon soil, water, sunlight, atmosphere, microorganisms, and evolutionary history. The person exists within biological, familial, cultural, linguistic, ecological, and historical conditions. Even the book depends upon forests, machines, authors, languages, publishers, and readers.

But acknowledging these dependencies does not answer a more basic question:

What is that which stands in relation to itself?

Perhaps the tree's relations help explain how it grows without completely explaining what the tree is. Perhaps a person is profoundly shaped through relationships while nevertheless possessing a reality that cannot be reduced to them. Perhaps things must possess certain characteristics or capacities before particular relations become possible.

This possibility reverses the direction from which much of our preceding inquiry has approached reality.

We came to regard relation as more fundamental than process. Process describes activity, transition, and becoming, but activity seems to require differences, conditions, inheritances, interactions, and responses. Process therefore appears to presuppose relation.

But perhaps we stopped one question too soon.

If process presupposes relation, does relation presuppose something that relates?

This question lies close to the intuition behind what has broadly been called substance metaphysics. Its proposal need not be defined as a reality which consists of isolated, static, self-sufficient objects. The more fundamental question is whether individual beings possess some form of reality on their own - some intrinsic character by virtue of which they are capable of changing, acting, persisting, and entering relations with other beings.

Aristotle will become our principal guide. His philosophy asks us to consider individual beings as realities whose matter and form, capacities and activities, potentialities and actualities help explain both what they are and what they may become.

Something grows.

Something moves.

Something breaks.

Something changes.

The metaphysical question hides inside the grammar:

What is that something?

For this essay, we begin there.

We will allow substance metaphysics to make its case before asking where its difficulties arise. Perhaps it is relations that constitute the things that enter into a substance. Perhaps things possess a reality that in some sense precedes their relations. Or perhaps the distinction will prove more difficult than either formulation suggests.

For now, we need not decide.

We need only do what the preceding essay asked of us:

Begin somewhere else.

And this time, we begin with the thing itself, whatever that thing is.


I. What Does It Mean for Something to Be a Substance?

The word substance can be misleading.

In ordinary English, a substance usually means some kind of material - water, iron, salt, oil, wood. Philosophically, however, substance raises a different question: what does it mean for something to possess being as a thing in its own right?

Consider an oak tree.

Its height, mass, shape, color, leaves, branches, and cellular composition change throughout its life. Yet through those changes we continue speaking of the tree. Some realities appear to possess sufficient identity and integrity that properties can belong to them, changes can happen to them, and relations can connect them with other realities.

The distinction becomes clearer when we consider properties. Brownness may characterize bark, a table, or an animal's fur, but we do not normally encounter brownness wandering through the world by itself. We encounter brown things. Weight, temperature, location, and motion likewise appear as characteristics of realities possessing them.

Substance metaphysics takes seriously this distinction between a thing and what can be said of the thing.

This does not make substance static. Indeed, change is one reason the concept becomes philosophically important. A child becomes an adult. A tree loses its leaves. An organism heals. Something can apparently undergo considerable alteration without every alteration producing an entirely new being.

Nor must a substance be isolated. An oak depends upon sunlight, water, soil, atmosphere, biological inheritance, and an ecosystem. Dependence does not automatically eliminate individuality. A thing may require other things in order to exist while possessing characteristics and capacities genuinely attributable to itself.

Here we should distinguish independence from isolation.

To say that something possesses being in its own right need not mean that it exists alone or causes itself. It may mean only that the thing cannot be completely reduced to the circumstances surrounding it. Its relations matter without necessarily exhausting what it is.

This is where substance metaphysics begins to press upon our previous inquiry. A friendship requires friends. A collision requires things capable of colliding. A chemical reaction requires entities possessing characteristics that permit particular reactions.

From this perspective, relation may be real without being first... or, an ontological primitive.

Perhaps things possess natures, properties, powers, or forms that make relations possible. Hydrogen and oxygen do not interact in every imaginable fashion. A stone responds to pressure differently from a living cell.

What enters a relation may help determine what that relation can become - but does not compose that thing or substance which experiences relation in its own right.

That observation does not establish that substance is ontologically fundamental. It does, however, explain why substance metaphysics remains philosophically compelling.

Before explaining a thing entirely through what surrounds or relates to it, substance metaphysics asks us to look again at the thing itself.

What kind of being is it?

What allows it to persist?

What can it become?

And what must be true of it for particular relations to become possible?

These questions lead naturally to Aristotle and to the Greek term ousia, conventionally translated as substance. Aristotle's concern was not simply to populate reality with self-contained objects. He wanted to understand what it means for particular beings to be what they are, undergo change, and nevertheless possess intelligible continuity.

In his world, substance will prove considerably more dynamic than it first appears.


II. Aristotle and the Reality of the Individual Thing

Aristotle begins characteristically with the world we encounter: animals, plants, artifacts, movement, growth, generation, and decay.

What requires explanation is not simply that these realities exist, but that particular things change in characteristic ways. A horse grows older and remains a horse. A tree loses its leaves and remains the tree whose leaves were lost. An acorn develops into an oak rather than a bird or stone.

Aristotle's term ousia stands near the center of this inquiry. It concerns what something is and what deserves to count most basically as a being.

One of his most influential answers directs attention toward individual things: This horse. This tree. This human being.

In the Categories, individual substances occupy a distinctive position as subjects of predication. 

A predicate is the part of a sentence or clause that contains the verb and tells us something about the subject - what the subject is, does, has, or experiences. Every complete sentence normally contains both a subject and a predicate. A predicate is therefore more than simply a verb: it may include the verb together with its objects, complements, modifiers, or helping verbs.

In philosophy “predicate” is often used more specifically for what is said or asserted of a subject. The oak is green. “The oak” is the subject; “is green” is the grammatical predicate. But philosophically, green is what is predicated of the oak. We say the tree is tall, the horse is brown, the person is tired. Tallness, brownness, and tiredness belong to something. The individual substance is not simply another characteristic within the list of characteristics attributed to it.

This suggests a kind of ontological priority. Reality appears populated by beings that are something in themselves before everything true about them has been enumerated.

Aristotle's mature metaphysics complicates this picture considerably. Substance leads into questions of essence, matter and form, actuality and potentiality, generation and destruction. Interpreters continue to debate how the account in the Categories relates to the investigations of the Metaphysics. We need not resolve those debates here.

The central intuition is enough for our purpose:

changes appear to happen to particular things or beings.

A tree may gain and lose branches, alter its size, exchange matter with its environment, and enter changing ecological relationships while retaining sufficient continuity for those events to constitute a history of this tree. Yet that continuity is not unlimited. If the tree burns completely to ash, we no longer say merely that the tree has changed. We say the tree has ceased to exist.

Substance metaphysics therefore provides a way of distinguishing a thing changing → from one thing ceasing to exist  while another begins.

But what makes the substance the kind of thing it is?

A pile of lumber and a living oak may contain some similar materials, yet they are not the same kind of being. Nor can the oak's identity reside merely in its exact matter, since a living organism continuously exchanges matter with its environment.

Aristotle's answer moves beyond the picture of substance as a self-contained chunk of material. What a thing is depends upon what it is made from, but also upon its organization, form, capacities, and characteristic activities.

An eye is not merely biological material. It is an organ organized in a particular way and capable, under appropriate conditions, of seeing. A living organism is not simply its chemical ingredients placed beside one another.

Substance begins to look less like inert stuff and more like organized being.

This matters because substance metaphysics is sometimes caricatured as an ontology of static objects that must somehow be persuaded afterward to interact. Aristotle's substances are not like that. They grow, act, develop, acquire and lose characteristics, and eventually cease to be.

His stronger claim is subtler:

Change requires something capable of changing. Activity requires something capable of acting. Development requires a being whose capacities make certain developments possible.

The individual thing is therefore not what remains after change has been removed from reality. For Aristotle, it helps make change intelligible.

And the distinction that carries much of that explanatory burden is matter and form.


III. Matter, Form, and What Makes a Thing What It Is

If substances are individual things, we immediately confront another question:

What makes a thing the thing that it is?

Matter alone seems insufficient.

Bronze may become a statue, vessel, tool, or shapeless mass. Wood may become a table, beam, door, or fuel. Living organisms continuously acquire and release matter while remaining recognizable organisms. If identity required exactly the same material throughout existence, living beings would be difficult to explain.

Aristotle therefore distinguishes matter from form - hylē from morphē or, in related contexts, eidos. The philosophical tradition deriving from their combination is commonly called hylomorphism.

A bronze statue provides the familiar illustration. Bronze is its matter, but bronze alone does not explain why this quantity of material constitutes a statue rather than an ingot or bowl. Melt the statue and much of the bronze remains while the statue disappears. Something has ceased to exist even though its matter survives.

With living beings, form means considerably more than external shape. An oak cannot be adequately described merely by listing its chemical ingredients. Those materials exist within an organized living being - roots, vascular tissues, leaves, cells, metabolic processes, genetic inheritance, and developmental capacities operating together.

Form concerns something about the organization and character by virtue of which the thing is the kind of being it is.

This has important consequences for the substance-first view.

A thing is not merely a passive location at which external relations occur. Its organization and capacities contribute to how it responds. Environment supplies conditions, opportunities, constraints, and causes, but the nature of the being encountering those conditions also matters.

An acorn placed in fertile soil may germinate.

A pebble will not.

The difference cannot be attributed to the soil alone.

This gives us a stronger sense of intrinsic being. Intrinsic need not mean unrelated or causally independent. It means that at least some truths about a thing concern what the thing itself is and cannot be completely explained by listing its external relations.

The oak participates in relations as an oak.

Substance metaphysics therefore asks us to consider whether what enters a relation contributes something to the encounter. Things may possess determinate ways of being that make some interactions possible, others impossible, and still others transformative.

Matter and form also help Aristotle speak about continuity through change. Organized beings can undergo considerable material alteration while retaining characteristic organization and activity.

Substance, then, is not merely an enduring lump beneath changing properties. It is better approached as a particular organized being whose matter and form belong together in making it the kind of thing it is.

That answer, however, creates another problem.

If an organized being can change considerably while remaining itself:

How much can something change and still remain the same thing?


IV. Persistence Through Change

Change requires both difference and continuity.

If nothing changed, there would be little reason to speak of becoming. But if everything changed so completely that nothing persisted, it would become difficult to say that something itself had changed. We might instead have one thing disappearing and another replacing it.

Ordinary language quietly assumes this distinction. The tree grows. The child matures. The house deteriorates. Each sentence attributes change to something. There is sufficient difference for change to occur and sufficient continuity for earlier and later conditions to belong to the same being.

This is one of the attractions of substance metaphysics. Substance gives change a subject.

Aristotle's distinction between accidental and substantial change helps clarify the intuition. Some characteristics may change while the substance remains. A person may become older, warmer, educated, tired, or sunburned without becoming a new substance on each occasion. Substantial change is more radical: the substance itself comes into, or passes out of, existence.

The distinction does not solve every difficult case. It tells us, however, that persistence is not the absence of change. It is the continuity of a being through change.

Living organisms make this especially striking because persistence may require activity. A living body exchanges matter and energy with its environment. Cells are replaced. Wounds heal. Metabolism continually transforms materials. An organism that ceased all such activity would not thereby become more perfectly itself. Rather, it would die.

Substance therefore need not oppose persistence to process. A substance may persist through ongoing activity.

The question becomes one of identity:

What makes later stages, stages of this being, rather than stages of another being?

For Aristotle, form and essence contribute to the answer. The identity of a living thing does not depend upon retaining every molecule or accidental property. What matters more deeply is the continuity of the organized being whose development those changes express.

Human biography gives the question existential force. A person at seventy differs profoundly from the child she was at seven. Her body, knowledge, relationships, convictions, and circumstances may all have changed.

Yet she can still say: I was that child.

But she can also say, I am no longer that child.

Whatever account we eventually give of personal identity, the statement expresses the same puzzle.

Identity appears capable of spanning considerable transformation.

Contemporary metaphysics contains extensive disputes about persistence through time, and personal identity adds problems of body, brain, memory, and psychological continuity. We need not settle them here.

The substance-metaphysical intuition is simpler:

Change becomes intelligible because something can remain itself while becoming different.

But something cannot become just anything whatsoever. If change belongs to a particular being, perhaps what that being is includes not only its present condition but something about what it is capable of becoming.

That takes us to potentiality and actuality.


V. Potentiality, Actuality, and the Powers of Things

A thing is more than what it happens to be at this moment.

A child can learn a language she does not presently speak. Glass can break without presently being broken. A musician sitting silently remains capable of playing music. Reality therefore seems to contain not only what particular things are, but what they can do or become.

Aristotle develops this distinction through potentiality (dunamis) and actuality (energeia, and in some contexts entelecheia).

Potentiality concerns capacities or possibilities belonging to a being.

Actuality concerns their realization or active expression.

The distinction helps answer an ancient problem: how can genuine change occur?

On one extreme, if something can become only what it already is, nothing genuinely changes. But on the other extreme, if anything can become absolutely anything, change becomes unintelligible.

The world we encounter seems otherwise.

Change is constrained by what things are capable of becoming.

An acorn is not presently an oak, nor does it contain a miniature tree hidden within it. It possesses capacities for a characteristic development that may be realized under appropriate conditions.

Those conditions matter. The acorn may be eaten, burned, crushed, diseased, or deprived of water.

Potentiality is not destiny.

Yet the environment does not supply an unlimited range of possible identities. What develops depends partly upon the being encountering conditions and transforming through those conditions (as versus overcoming conditions).

What a thing is, helps determine what it can become.

But what conditions are available also determines how it transforms.

The same point extends beyond living things. Glass can shatter because of its material structure. Salt can dissolve under appropriate conditions. Iron can oxidize. Different materials exposed to similar forces respond differently because their structures and capacities differ.

Relations matter.

But what enters the relation matters too.

Potentiality and actuality therefore produce a more dynamic conception of substance. A substance is not merely a finished object occupying space. Its way of being that will include capacities that may remain unrealized.

Aristotle nevertheless gives actuality priority in important respects. We understand capacities partly through the activities toward which they are directed: the capacity to see through seeing, the capacity to build through building, the developmental possibilities of an organism through the characteristic activities of its mature form. This contributes to the teleological dimension of Aristotle's philosophy of nature.

We need not adopt that entire framework to appreciate the metaphysical point.

Potentiality explains why change can be real without being unconstrained. It explains why different things under similar circumstances may respond differently. And it shows why being and becoming need not be competitors.

Things need not dissolve into becoming in order to change. Their capacities for change may belong to the kinds of beings they are.

We have now reached the central problem.

Individual beings appear capable of possessing form, continuity, capacities,
and characteristic possibilities. Relations affect them and may be necessary
for those capacities to become actual.

But perhaps relation does not create the relata from nothing.

Perhaps things bring something of their own to the encounter.

So we must finally ask:

Must things first exist before they can be related?


VI. Must Things Exist Before They Can Be Related?

The challenge can be stated simply:

Can there be a relation without something that is related?

Friendship requires friends. Distance requires terms between which distance obtains. A collision requires things capable of colliding. A chemical bond requires entities capable of bonding. Parent and child, predator and prey, planet and star, organism and environment - relations appear to be relations between, among, or within something.

This seems to suggest an order:

First there are things; then those things stand in relations.

If that order is correct,

relation may be indispensable without being ontologically fundamental.

This is the substance-metaphysical challenge in its strongest form. It does not deny relation, dependence, interaction, or transformation.

It asks whether relation presupposes relata.

Consider two stones several feet apart. Their distance is a relation. Move one and the distance changes. Remove one and that particular relation disappears. The relation appears dependent upon the things between which it obtains.

Causal interaction strengthens the intuition. Suppose a hammer strikes glass. The event depends upon an interaction between hammer and glass, but the outcome also depends upon what the interacting things are. Replace the glass with rubber or steel and the same kind of impact produces different consequences.

The relation of impact does not by itself explain what happens.

The characteristics and capacities of the relata contribute to the event.

From a substance-first perspective, this is exactly what we should expect. Things possess structures, properties, and powers affecting which relations are possible and what those relations can do. The relata are not empty placeholders waiting for relation to give them all their determinate character.

The substance metaphysician can therefore reverse a familiar relational formulation.

Instead of saying:

Relations make things what they are,

we might say:

What things are helps determine which relations are possible and what those relations can do.

Relations can nevertheless transform things. Friendship, education, trauma, language, community, and love may profoundly change a person. Environmental conditions transform organisms. Materials acquire new properties through combination. Nothing in a substance-first ontology requires denying this.

But transformation seems to require something capable of being transformed.

This leads to an important distinction between dependence and constitution.

Something may depend upon relations without being wholly constituted by them.

A human being depends upon biological ancestry, caregivers, food, atmosphere, culture, and innumerable other conditions. Such dependence does not by itself demonstrate that the person possesses no intrinsic reality.

The question is not whether a thing can exist without anything else.

It is whether everything the thing is, can be reduced to its relations with everything else.

If not, intrinsic being retains explanatory importance.

Persistence intensifies the challenge. A person can change friendships, employment, location, beliefs, social roles, and physical condition while remaining recognizably the same person. An artifact may move from owner to owner and place to place without becoming a new object. If identity consisted simply in the totality of present relations, every relational change would appear to threaten the identity of the thing.

Substance offers another possibility.

Relations may modify a being without exhausting its identity.

Some may be constitutive, others accidental; some enduring, others temporary. The substance provides sufficient continuity for different relations to belong to the history of the same being.

We can therefore formulate the substance-first argument more carefully:

Relations require relata, and relata must possess enough determinate being for there to be something capable of entering, sustaining, changing, or leaving a relation.

But an important qualification is necessary.

The fact that relations require relata does not by itself prove that relata are ontologically prior to relations.

A relational philosopher could agree that every actual relation has relata while arguing that those relata themselves become determinate only through relations. Relation and relata might be mutually constitutive, yet distinguishability need not establish ontological priority between either.

This is precisely where the question becomes philosophically interesting.

Substance metaphysicians insist that we cannot explain relations while leaving their terms unexplained. The things entering relations seem to possess enough character to make differences to what happens. Relation may explain connection without completely explaining what there is to connect.

Our earlier inquiry asked whether process presupposes relation.

Substance metaphysics now asks us to continue one step further:

If process presupposes relation, does relation presuppose something that relates?

Perhaps it does.

But whether that establishes the ontological priority of substance remains open.

For now, substance metaphysics has accomplished what we asked of it.

It has given us a serious alternative account of where metaphysical explanation might begin.


VII. What Substance Metaphysics Allows Us to See

A philosophy earns our attention partly through what it enables us to notice.

Substance metaphysics asks us to take seriously the integrity of individual beings. The world appears populated by organisms, persons, objects, materials, and structures possessing distinguishable identities. Relational metaphysics should be cautious about explaining those individuals or beings away too quickly in favor of underlying relations, processes, systems, or structures.

Second, it also gives considerable weight to persistence. Changes belong to beings. Histories are histories of something. Substance provides a way of understanding how identity may span alteration without requiring immobility.

Third, it highlights differential response and causal capacity. Different beings respond differently under similar conditions because what they are matters to what can happen. Not everything can become everything.

Finally, substance metaphysics warns against confusing dependence with disappearance. A being may depend upon innumerable conditions while remaining a genuine individual. Dependence may be a truth about the substance rather than a relational argument against substance.

These insights complicate any easy opposition between a world of isolated things and a world of relations.

Perhaps things are more relational than some forms of substance metaphysics have allowed.

But perhaps relations require more substantial beings than some relational metaphysics have admitted.

That leaves us with a productive question:

If reality consists neither of isolated things nor of relations without things, where does ontological priority belong?

To answer that, however, we must now place substance itself under pressure.


VIII. Where the Question Becomes Difficult

1. The closer we examine an individual thing, the harder it becomes to say exactly where the thing ends and its conditions begin.

Consider the oak one final time.

Its genetic inheritance comes from prior organisms. Its development depends upon sunlight, water, minerals, atmosphere, temperature, microorganisms, and ecological conditions. Its characteristic form unfolds only within an environment capable of supporting its development.

This does not prove that the oak is merely its relations.

But it makes intrinsic being harder to isolate.

The difficulty becomes sharper with persons. Human bodies depend continuously upon environmental exchange. Languages are inherited from communities. Concepts are learned. Identities develop through families, cultures, memories, institutions, friendships, conflicts, and histories we did not create.

A person is clearly more than any single relationship.

But would the person be the same person apart from all relationship?

2. Substance metaphysics must also confront the problem of composition.

If a substance is an individual thing, what makes its parts one substance rather than many smaller things gathered together?

A living organism consists of organs, tissues, cells, molecules, atoms, and more fundamental physical constituents. Many of these possess organization and activity of their own. Yet together they participate in something we identify as one organism.

Why one?

Aristotle appeals importantly to form. The parts belong to the organism through the organized actuality of the living whole. But this answer introduces an intriguing complication. If organization helps make many parts one being, then organization - and perhaps relations among parts - appears to be doing significant ontological work.

A heart removed from a living body remains materially similar, for a time, to the heart within it. Yet what it is as a functioning organ depends upon its place within the organism. A neuron possesses characteristics of its own, but much of what it does depends upon its connections with other cells.

The parts matter.

So does their organization.

Neither appears easily reducible to the other.

3, Persistence raises a related difficulty. If almost every component of something changes while its organization continues, what exactly carries its identity? If the answer is form, organization, or continuity of activity, substance begins to depend upon patterns extending across changing components and through time.

The individual thing remains real, but its reality may not reside in an independently existing core.

Contemporary science complicates the picture further. Ordinary experience presents tables, stones, organisms, planets, and persons as individuals. Scientific investigation reveals layers of composition beneath them. Molecules consist of atoms; atoms possess internal structure; physical descriptions invoke particles, fields, interactions, symmetries, and systems whose behavior does not always resemble the self-contained objects of ordinary experience.

This does not eliminate substance metaphysics. Contemporary philosophers continue to develop sophisticated accounts of substances, essence, powers, objects, persistence, and hylomorphic organization.

*Hylomorphic organization is a philosophical and scientific concept asserting that structure or organization is a fundamental, irreducible ingredient of reality. Rooted in Aristotle’s ancient theory of hylomorphism (from the Greek hyle, meaning "matter," and morphe, meaning "form"), it states that a physical object is never just a random heap of physical parts; it is a composite of matter and the organizing principle that gives those parts a unified identity and unique causal powers.

But it prevents us from assuming that the apparent individuality of ordinary things tells us where ontological fundamentality finally lies.

Perhaps some things are substances while others are aggregates.

Perhaps substances exist at several levels.

Perhaps only certain fundamental entities qualify.

Perhaps organisms provide better examples of substances than artifacts or inert objects.

Or perhaps individuality itself emerges through organization and interaction.

Substance metaphysics therefore faces the same demand we will place upon every philosophy in this section:

What does the account explain, and what must it assume in order to provide that explanation?

Substance explains why properties belong to something, why things may persist through change, why different beings respond differently to similar conditions, and why relations appear to require relata.

But it must also explain what gives a thing its unity, where its boundaries lie, how its identity persists, and how much of what it is can genuinely be distinguished from the conditions through which it exists.

The difficulty can be stated from both directions.

If we begin with relation, we must explain:

What is related?

If we begin with substance, we must explain:

What makes the thing the unified, organized, dependent being that it is?

Neither question is trivial.

We began this essay asking whether things must exist before they can be related. Substance metaphysics has given us strong reason to take that possibility seriously.

But the closer we examine the thing, the more we encounter organization, dependence, interaction, inheritance, and conditions extending beyond it.

The thing does not disappear.

Yet neither does relation.

And so the question remains:

Does relation require things that already possess being, or does the being of things itself depend upon the relations through which they become the kinds of things they are?

We do not yet know.

That is precisely why the metaphysical encounter matters.


Conclusion: A World of Things

Suppose, then, that we begin with things.

The world looks somewhat different.

Instead of asking how relatively stable beings arise within a more fundamental reality of relation or relational becoming, we begin with individual beings and things and ask what they must be like in order to possess properties, undergo change, exercise capacities, persist through time, and enter relations.

Aristotle has shown us that this need not produce a world of static or isolated objects. Substances may possess matter and form, actuality and potentiality. They may change while retaining identity. They may develop through continuous interaction with environments upon which they depend.

Substance need not mean stasis.

Nor does intrinsic being require independence from everything else.

The stronger insight is simpler:

Things may contribute something to their own to reality.

What something is - its organization, form, properties, capacities, and history - helps shape what can happen next.

From here the substance-first challenge becomes difficult to dismiss:

Relations require something that can be related.

But we have also discovered that this statement does not settle the question of ontological priority. The relata themselves may depend upon organization, interaction, inheritance, and relationships for much of what they are.

We had previously asked whether process presupposes relation.

Substance metaphysics has now asked whether relation, in turn, presupposes relata.

What seemed like an endpoint has become another stage in the question.

The closer we examined individual beings, the harder it became to separate them cleanly from the conditions through which they exist. Organisms depend upon environments. Persons develop through histories and relationships. Complex beings derive their unity from the organization of their parts. Capacities become actual within enabling circumstances.

The substance remains visible.

But so do its relations.

We therefore end somewhere more interesting than where we began.

We have not discovered that substance metaphysics is simply correct. Nor have we found reason to dismiss it as an obsolete philosophy of static things. We have encountered a serious metaphysical possibility:

Perhaps reality contains beings possessing genuine integrity, capacities, and continuity that cannot be completely reduced to their relations.

And that possibility leaves us with two questions.

If relations are fundamental:

What is it that stands in relation?

If substances are fundamental:

What makes the substance the unified, changing, dependent being that it is?

Perhaps one question will eventually prove more fundamental.

Perhaps neither can be answered without the other.

We do not yet know.

That uncertainty is not a failure. It is what we hoped might happen when we reopened the question of reality. We began somewhere other than relation and discovered that the alternative possesses explanatory force of its own.

For a while, we have inhabited a world of things.

We have seen why philosophers might begin there.

But substance is only one possible beginning.

What if reality does not begin with enduring things at all?

What if what appears to us as a thing is better understood as a relatively stable moment within something more fundamental - activity, event, transition, occurrence, change?

Then our starting point shifts once again.

Not from relation to substance.

But from thing to happening.

And so our next question becomes:

What if process comes before relation? 

 


Suggested Readings and Further Exploration

The literature surrounding substance metaphysics is extensive, stretching from ancient Greek philosophy into contemporary debates concerning objects, properties, persistence, powers, essence, composition, and fundamentality. The following selections are intended not as an exhaustive bibliography but as pathways for readers who wish to pursue the questions raised in this essay.

Primary Sources

Aristotle. Categories. Translated by J. L. Ackrill. In The Complete Works of Aristotle: The Revised Oxford Translation, vol. 1, edited by Jonathan Barnes. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984.

Aristotle. Metaphysics. Translated by W. D. Ross. In The Complete Works of Aristotle: The Revised Oxford Translation, vol. 2, edited by Jonathan Barnes. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984.

Aristotle. Physics. Translated by R. P. Hardie and R. K. Gaye. In The Complete Works of Aristotle: The Revised Oxford Translation, vol. 1, edited by Jonathan Barnes. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1984.

Aristotle and Substance

Cohen, S. Marc, and C. D. C. Reeve. “Aristotle's Metaphysics.” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Stanford University.

Loux, Michael J. Primary Ousia: An Essay on Aristotle's Metaphysics Z and H. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1991.

Witt, Charlotte. Substance and Essence in Aristotle: An Interpretation of Metaphysics VII-IX. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1989.

Substance in Contemporary Metaphysics

Loux, Michael J., and Thomas M. Crisp. Metaphysics: A Contemporary Introduction. 4th ed. New York: Routledge, 2017.

Oderberg, David S. Real Essentialism. London: Routledge, 2007.

Robinson, Howard. “Substance.” The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy. Stanford University.


Why Were These Authors Chosen?

Aristotle is the principal philosophical guide for Essay Forty because his work provides one of the most sophisticated classical accounts of substance without reducing substance to inert or isolated matter. The Categories introduces the importance of individual substances as subjects of predication - the particular beings of which properties may be said. The Metaphysics, especially Books VII-IX, develops the problem much further through substance, essence, matter and form, actuality and potentiality. The Physics is equally important because Aristotle's substance ontology is inseparable from his attempt to explain movement, change, causation, and the capacities through which beings become otherwise while retaining intelligible continuity.

S. Marc Cohen and C. D. C. Reeve provide a useful contemporary scholarly entrance into Aristotle's metaphysical project. Their treatment is especially helpful for readers who wish to understand how questions of substance intersect with form, matter, essence, actuality, and potentiality without entering immediately into the extensive specialist literature surrounding Aristotle's Metaphysics.

Michael Loux's Primary Ousia and Charlotte Witt's Substance and Essence in Aristotle were chosen because both enter more deeply into the interpretive difficulties surrounding Aristotle's mature theory of substance. They help show that “substance metaphysics” cannot simply be equated with a world of independent objects. Aristotle's account raises difficult questions about whether substance is primarily the individual composite, its form, its essence, or some relationship among these. Their work therefore reinforces one of the central observations of this essay: the closer we examine the individual thing, the more philosophically complex its unity becomes.

The contemporary selections broaden the inquiry beyond Aristotle. Michael Loux and Thomas Crisp's Metaphysics: A Contemporary Introduction places substance among wider contemporary problems concerning particulars, properties, identity, modality, composition, and persistence. It is especially useful for seeing how questions first raised in ancient substance metaphysics continue in forms that no longer depend upon Aristotle's complete philosophical system.

Howard Robinson's “Substance” offers a broad survey of the concept across its historical and contemporary forms. It is useful precisely because there is no single substance metaphysics. Philosophers have understood substances through independence, substrata, bundles of properties, persistence, objects, and other competing accounts. Robinson helps prevent the Aristotelian version explored in Essay Forty from being mistaken for the only possible substance-first ontology.

Finally, David Oderberg's Real Essentialism represents a contemporary defense of real essences and the idea that what things are places genuine constraints upon what they can do and become. His work is relevant to our discussion of intrinsic being, powers, potentiality, and differential response because it takes seriously the possibility that beings possess determinate natures not exhausted by descriptions of their external relations.

Taken together, these readings allow us to encounter substance metaphysics in both its classical and contemporary forms. They show why philosophers continue to ask whether properties require subjects, whether change requires something that changes, whether capacities belong to beings, and whether relations themselves presuppose realities capable of standing in relation.

They also preserve the central difficulty with which Essay Forty leaves us:

Relations appear to require relata, but the existence of relata does not by itself establish that relata are ontologically prior to relation.


Appendix A
Substance Metaphysics at a Glance

The following table provides a compact map of the substance-first possibility explored in this essay, especially through Aristotle. It is not intended to represent every form of substance metaphysics.

QuestionSubstance-Metaphysical Response
Where does metaphysical inquiry begin?With individual beings possessing sufficient identity and integrity to be what they are.
What is a substance?A being capable of possessing properties, undergoing change, exercising capacities, persisting through time, and entering relations.
What makes a thing what it is?In the Aristotelian account, matter and form belong together in constituting a particular organized being.
Is substance simply matter?No. Matter alone does not explain why particular materials constitute one kind of being rather than another.
Must substances be static?No. Substances may grow, act, develop, change, and eventually cease to exist.
How can something change while remaining itself?Some characteristics may change while sufficient continuity of the individual being persists.
What is potentiality?A capacity belonging to a thing for particular activities, changes, or developments not presently actual.
What is actuality?The realization or active expression of a capacity.
Can anything become anything?No. What a thing is helps constrain what it can do or become.
Are substances independent of everything else?Not necessarily. Profound dependence need not entail reduction to those dependencies.
What are relations?Real connections, interactions, dependencies, or comparisons among beings. Their reality does not by itself establish their ontological priority.
Why might things come before relations?Relations appear to require relata - something capable of standing in relation.
Does the need for relata prove substance priority?No. Relata might themselves depend upon relations for some or much of their determinate being.
What does substance metaphysics explain especially well?Individuality, persistence, differential response, intrinsic capacities, constrained possibility, and the apparent need for subjects of properties and change.
Where does substance metaphysics become difficult?Unity, boundaries, composition, persistence through extensive change, and the extent to which beings can be distinguished from their constitutive conditions.
What is the strongest substance-first question?Can there be a relation without something that is related?
What is the strongest question in the other direction?If relations require things, what makes those things the unified, organized, dependent beings they are?
What remains unresolved?Whether things are ontologically prior to relations, relations are prior to things, or their interdependence requires a deeper metaphysical account.