Kacheyev D.A.

FROM THALES TO HERACLITUS

(Kostanai, Republic of Kazakhstan)

 

Thales of Miletus thought that water was the primordi­al stuff of the universe. This assertion, not so trivial as it may seem, is in any case less important than the question to be solved. Thinking on analogy with human technique, Thales had apparently asked himself «What is it all made of?» The question assumes that the universe gets developed, like pottery, from a common material. Thales wanted to know what that material was. He didn’t ask - or at least we don’t know that he asked - why things change or how there comes to be such variety in the worlds. He was looking for origins, and he took those origins to lie in one universal self-identical stuff [1,38 p.].

Thus was born the concept of substance, the oldest and until recently the most respectable in philosophy. In all that time a great deal has been written about it, but not much has really been said about it. This is because you find when you come to the heart of the subject, that hardly anything can be said. What you say about any entity amounts, in the end, to listing its qualities, its quantities, and the relations in which it stands.

But all these are different from substance itself. You are therefore in a position of trying to describe substance in terms which are not substantial.

This indescribable entity called «substance» can be con­ceived as cosmic stuff or as elementary particles, but in either case it is inwardly changeless. It can take on quali­ties and relations as a body takes on clothes, without for one moment ceasing to be itself.

Within fairly narrow limits this scheme is workable. But the impenetrability of substance plays hob with every theory, based upon it. The prime lesson of sense experience is that things change. Consequently a separation begins -  at first a rent and then a gulf between the changeless sub­stance and the changing world.

Anaximander detected in the universe a reconciliation of change and order. Events, he said, suffer punishment and make reparation to one another for the «injustices» they commit in the flow of time. Each process tends, as if it were, to excess and thus evokes a contrary process for its own modification.

This description of change as the interplay of opposites is not limited to ethics, but applies to the universe generally.

We can think of the interplay as establishing a pattern and of the pattern as surviving upon the very back of change. Consequently we can say that it is the diversity of things which gives them a form. In this view the permanent is the form and consequence of change in which it rests and prospects.

The dialectical theory, thus born, reached its first man­hood in Heraclitus of Ephesus. He performed, indeed, the most difficult of philosophical feats: a persuasive revela­tion of the universe as it is [2,141 p.].

If movement is an essential condition of things, the op­position between any one entity and its environment is a dynamic affair. Things modify one another, there is a certain «strife» among them. From these interactions nothing withdraws unaltered, but everything is different from what it was and is different because of its interactions. This is what makes the movement move and the process proceed. Heraclitus rebukes Homer for wishing that strife might vanish from the universe: if strife were to vanish, the uni­verse would vanish with it.

This doctrine of the strife of opposites has remained a basic part of dialectical theory.

 

Literature

1.                       Spirkin A. Fundamentals of Philosophy. Moscow: Progress Publishers, - 1990. -  424 p.

2.                    Ìóðàòîâà Ç.Ã., Ìóðçà À.Á., Ïåðöåâ Å.Ì. Welcome to the world of Philosophy. – Ì.: Àêàäåìè÷åñêèé ïðîåêò, 2005. – 352 ñ.