Mary Beth Ingham - Scotus for Dunces: An Introduction to the Subtle Doctor

This book offers a basic introduction to the thought of Franciscan philosopher-theologian, John Duns Scotus. Known to history as the Subtle Doctor, Scotus has a reputation for intricate and technical reasoning. He is generally acknowledged as a difficult thinker whose ideas are neither clearly set forth nor easily followed. Scotist thought is not widely known precisely because it is so difficult to access. Some may have an idea of his isolated insights, most notably his position on the divine reason for the Incarnation, but beyond this, few other than the small circle of scholars who have mastered the thought of this late thirteenth-century Franciscan would claim to know much about an overall vision.

This text, then, is meant to be a simple guide , that is, an introductory presentation of both the philosophical and theological aspects of Scotist thought. It is simple , because I do not expect the reader to have any specialized background information on medieval philosophy or theology, on Franciscan spirituality, or on any particular systematic element needed to study the thought of such a great medieval metaphysician. It is also simple , insofar as I present ordinary examples to explain the more intricate distinctions found in Scotist thought. It is, however, not simple insofar as Scotuss insights themselves could ever be simplified. Indeed, his vision of God, reality and our relationship to both is intricate and complex. It is not possible to introduce such a thinker by reducing his thought to a simplistic rendering. In what follows, points will, at times, be explained as much as is possible (or appropriate) and still fall short of the transparency that both the author and the reader might desire.

In undertaking this book, I had one central interest. Having been struck by the centrality of beauty as a moral category in Scotus, I wondered whether one might approach Scotist thought from an aesthetic interpretive angle. By taking as my starting point the centrality of beauty as key to Scotist thought, I was reminded of the aesthetic dimension in other medieval thinkers, especially men like Bonaventure. The traditions of late antiquity, influenced by Augustines Platonism and the mystical theology of Pseudo-Dionysius, fed the development of medieval philosophy and theology through the influential 12th century School of St. Victor. The Victorines kept alive this Platonic and (what we today call) Neoplatonic tradition, adding to it a love for cosmology and study of the natural world. Their legacy was central to the brilliant work of those men living in what we call the High Middle Ages (specifically the 13th and 14th centuries) when texts of Aristotle became known in the West. Key thinkers such as Thomas Aquinas, Bonaventure and Scotus lived and wrote in a period of history that was unparalleled in terms of the confluence of spiritual, intellectual, and cultural accomplishments.

As these factors came together for me, I reflected upon the specifically Franciscan dimension that lay behind this aesthetic approach. I concluded that Scotuss identity as a Franciscan might offer a more fruitful way to approach his notoriously difficult texts and, through them, to understand his thought in a more integrated manner. This would entail viewing his intellectual achievements as central to his spiritual vision, itself an integral part of his life. It would also entail an approach that must be more thematic than systematic.

Such an approach offers several advantages. First, it does not separate the domains of philosophy from theology as vastly different and opposing areas of study. Second, it does not separate the created from the uncreated order. That is, it respects the connection that Scotus himself affirms between human knowing of the created order and human knowing of God. Third, it takes seriously the identity of Scotus as a Franciscan friar, one who followed the vision of St. Francis in his life and who saw his intellectual speculation as part of a larger spiritual journey. Finally, it does not reduce the thought of such a great mind to the imposed categories of contemporary thought, whether as philosophy or theology. So often, when we study thinkers from past ages or from other cultures, we reduce their thought to our own categories of understanding, so that we might make sense of them. This is, of course, inevitable to some extent. My attempt here is to reduce this temptation to a minimum by looking at Scotus from a vantage point that is intrinsic to his identity (his Franciscanism) rather than a vantage point that I impose from my own historical perspective.