Necessity, the passions, and blessedness
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If everything follows from God’s nature as necessarily as geometry, then you never really chose anything. So why does Spinoza end his book about determinism with the word “blessedness”?
Start from the necessity built into the whole system. Everything that exists is a mode following from the divine nature, and it follows with geometric necessity: “Things could have been produced by God in no other way, and in no other order than they have been produced” (Ethics I, Prop. 33). There is no contingency in Nature — nothing that merely happens to be so and could equally have been otherwise. This is necessitarianism.
So there is no free will. The will is not some uncaused faculty that could tip either way; every volition is a mode of Thought determined by a prior cause, which is determined by a prior cause, without end (Ethics I, Prop. 32; II, Prop. 48: “the mind is determined to will this or that by a cause which is also determined by another, and this again by another, and so on to infinity”).
Then why does the sense of free will feel so undeniable? Spinoza’s diagnosis: the feeling is an illusion born of ignorance. “Men believe themselves free because they are conscious of their volitions and desires, but are ignorant of the causes by which they are led” (Ethics I, Appendix). We feel our wanting; we don’t see what produced the wanting — and we mistake that blind spot for freedom.
To understand human life Spinoza needs one more idea: the conatus (Ethics III, Prop. 6). “Each thing, as far as it can by its own power, strives to persevere in its being.” Every mode has an inbuilt striving to keep existing. In us this striving, when we’re conscious of it, is desire; the conatus is the engine of the whole emotional life.
On this basis Spinoza does something audacious in Ethics III: he analyses the emotions (affectus) more geometrico, as if they were lines and planes. Spinoza recognises three primary affects: joy (laetitia) — the mind’s passage to greater power and perfection — sadness (tristitia) — its passage to lesser power — and desire (cupiditas), conatus become conscious (Ethics III, Prop. 11 Schol.). Love is just joy accompanied by the idea of its external cause; hate, sadness with its cause. The tangled inner life is put on a geometric grid.
Now the central distinction of the ethics: active versus passive. I am passive — I undergo a passion — when I am driven by external causes and act from inadequate ideas (partial, confused ideas that don’t reveal their own causes). I am active when the cause of what I do lies in my own nature, understood through adequate ideas (clear and complete ones). This passivity is what Spinoza calls the bondage (servitus) of the passions — the theme of Ethics IV, “Of Human Bondage.”
What does Spinoza mean by calling the feeling of free will an illusion?
So Spinoza redefines freedom. To be free is not to be uncaused — that’s incoherent — but to be active: to act from the necessity of your own nature, guided by adequate understanding. The free person is not the one who escapes the causal order but the one who understands it and thereby acts from within, rather than being jerked about by external things and confused ideas.
This gives a concrete therapy for the emotions. “An emotion which is a passion ceases to be a passion as soon as we form a clear and distinct idea of it” (Ethics V, Prop. 3). When you understand a passion — grasp its causes, see its necessity — it loosens its grip and is converted, at least in part, from something you suffer into something you comprehend. Understanding is not a cold substitute for feeling; it is the route out of bondage.
The highest form of understanding sees things sub specie aeternitatis — “under the aspect of eternity” (Ethics V, Prop. 29ff.): grasping particular things not as fleeting accidents but through their necessary place in the eternal order of Nature/God. To know things this way is, at once, to know God — since everything is in God and follows from God’s nature. The highest good of the mind is therefore the knowledge of God (Ethics IV, Prop. 28).
And this knowledge is itself a joy. Joy accompanied by the idea of its cause is love; so joy that arises from knowing God, and whose cause is God, is the intellectual love of God — amor Dei intellectualis (Ethics V, Prop. 32ff.). It is the mind’s serene delight in understanding reality as it necessarily is. Not adoration of a person who loves you back, but the calm blessedness of comprehension.
What is freedom and blessedness for Spinoza?