Conception and Judgment

Conception and Judgment

Everyone who has looked closely and set his thought to work a little knows that man has two sensations (iḥsās): one of them (outer, ẓāhirī), which is what comes about in us through the effect of external things upon the organs of sense; and the other (inner, bāṭinī), which is our own thinking upon the sensible things that reach us by way of the first sensation — so it is the sensation of sensation.

The instruments of outer sensation are the external organs proper to sight, hearing, taste, smell and touch. The manner of it is this: between these organs and the brain there are fine, hair-like nerves, each of which joins one of them to the brain; so when the outer end of these nerves is affected by the sensible things, that affection travels to the inner end, and by it the particular part of the brain belonging to that sense is affected. This being-affected is according to the readiness of that part and its quality, since it differs from person to person; and from it arises the fact that one man is intelligent and another dull, or quick of retention and another slow, and so forth.

At the moment the affection reaches the brain we sense things and apprehend them, and this is what we have called outer sensation. This trace is imprinted and remains for a shorter or longer while according to the capacity of the part of the brain belonging to it, and this is what is called the retentive faculty (ḥāfiẓah).

The instruments of inner sensation are this retentive faculty, since it is what represents in the mind the image of a thing we had apprehended first and then forgotten, and awakens in us the very affection that had come to us from it, whether of expansion or of contraction, and whether the thing was seen or heard or otherwise. This conception (taṣawwur) is what we have called inner conception, or mediated conception. It is also called (imagination, takhayyul) or (estimation, wahm), according to the strength or the weakness of the conception, its soundness or its confusion with something else. In any case, everything we conceive goes back to the outer conceptions, and these go back to the very essence of the existing sensible thing.

It is no secret that we are able to draw a single conception out of several conceptions: as when we conceive the two wings of an eagle, then conceive the body of a horse, then the legs of a gazelle, then the head of a man, and then bring all of them together and so conceive a mare having an eagle's wings, a gazelle's legs and a man's face; and we may set a name to it by analogy with external sensible things, so that we call it, say, the horse of the air, or something else. (And we may conceive a thing exaggerated beyond its original, as when we conceive a maiden fifty thousand cubits in length with a breadth to match her length, and like the giant demons (maradah) that the common folk conceive; or the reverse, in shortness and smallness, as in their conceptions of the jinn, or of Yājūj and Mājūj, and the like.)

We have another way in conception, and it is what is called abstraction (tajrīd), or (leaving out of account, qaṭʻ al-naẓar): namely, that we think upon the acquired image, or upon part of it, without thinking upon that of which it is the attribute — as when we count five apples and then think upon the number alone, leaving out of account what is numbered. It is in this way that we observe the ratios between numbers and dispute about the properties of fractions and other matters in the science of arithmetic — that is, by leaving out of account any particular numbered thing taken in itself. And likewise, if we consider two towns and consider the road between them, we may leave out of account the road's breadth and all its other conditions and consider nothing but its length and its extension; then we leave out of account the town, and its breadth and its length, and consider it only in respect of its being the starting point of that length. It is on this basis that the masters of geometry said that the line is abstracted from breadth and the point abstracted from the three dimensions; and in this same way they proceeded in their conceptions of surfaces and bodies when examining their properties and their ratios. And just as by the way of leaving out of account (abstraction) we invent things out of the acquired conceptions, so we may invent a name for them by which we call them, by analogy with real things — such as the qualities, like beauty and ugliness; and the colours, like white and red; and certain shared general states, like death. For all of these belong to the intellect's apprehensions and its considerations; and by the way of (abstraction), leaving out of account, one speaks of them as of verified sensible things, and they may be employed with particular significations attached to them, by way of analogy and predication, as in the uprightness of Aḥmad, the wretchedness of Asʻad, the beauty of Salmā and the whiteness of Hind. And some of these conceptions are called (estimative, wahmī), such as the colours in respect of what they are in themselves, and such as the conception of existence and non-existence, of truth and of falsehood. And we may conceive a thing and it reminds us of other conceptions, and these last are called (consequent conceptions)

Then we confine our attention to the attributes of a thing that are proper to it and distinguish it from others, and we neglect what falls outside these, of what does not concern us in view of the aspect we intend; so the sum of these attributes is engraved in our retentive faculty, and out of them is composed a conception which is a model for that thing conceived and a standard for its species and its like in that intended aspect. This is what is called (the model conception, al-taṣawwur al-mithālī): as when we take from the horse those attributes of hers that distinguish her from plants and minerals — such as her sensing and her moving by her own will — and leave aside the other attributes that belong to her; so a conception of her comes about with us, and in this respect we name it animal. Then this conception, which we have retained with regard to the horse under this aspect, is a general model: whenever we find it to fit some existing thing, we call that thing an animal. So, for instance, were we to see a person and measure him by this model standard, we should find it to fit him exactly, and we should say of him without hesitation that he is an animal

And to make it still clearer for you: take the dinar, for instance. We consider its shape only in respect of its roundness, and we retain from it a standard of roundness — that is, the conception of roundness alone, as was done above in abstraction — and we keep this abstracted shape and match it against everything we have seen; and whatever we find to match it, we judge to be round

Then we add to the attribute of roundness its being of metal, stamped with the seal of the realm, and we retain a standard from it and name it, in this aspect, (a coin); and of everything we find to match this standard of ours we say that it is a coin

Then we add another attribute to it, and we consider its being yellow and golden, and we retain a standard from it which we name (a dinar), and we judge everything we find matching it to be a dinar. And so on

And let it be noted that the fewer the attributes we restrict ourselves to, and the smaller the standard we adopt, the more individuals it covers; and the more we add to the attributes, the larger the standard grows, the narrower the field of its application becomes for us, the fewer the individuals, and the more that name is confined to small numbers by comparison with what preceded it — so that it may even end with us at a single one only

It has been settled by convention that the large standard — that is, the name that takes in many individuals — be called (the genus, jins); and the attribute added to it in order to take the standard that comes after it and is smaller than it is called (a species, nawʻ), then (a differentia, faṣl), then (a common accident, ʻaraḍ ʻāmm), then (a proprium, khāṣṣah). These five names have been called the five universals; and if their number exceeds this, one says (the remote genus) for what is furthest in remoteness, then (the proximate genus), then (the species), then (the remote differentia), then (the proximate differentia), then (the common accident), then (the proprium)

The genus is defined among the logicians as a universal predicated of many things differing in their essences in answer to (What is it?); and of it there is a proximate and a remote, as above, and the most general of them is called the genus of genera. Among the common people, genus is said of the meaning in which many share, such as fatherhood and fellow-townsmanship, the father and the town.

The species is defined as a universal predicated of many things differing in number but not in essence in answer to (What is it?). As for the relative species, it is every genus in relation to the genus above it. Among the common people, the species of a thing is its form and its make

The differentia is what distinguishes a thing from what shares its genus with it — that is, it is the attribute of the species that is confined to its individuals; and the differentia of the relative species in relation to the real species is called a remote differentia

The common accident is any attribute among the attributes of the thing sought (maṭlūb) which is predicated of it and of what is of an essence other than its own essence, such as moving by will in relation to man, for it is predicated of him and of other animals besides him

A nicety — since the logicians qualified the attribute (moving) with the condition (by will), there drop out those whose movements and all of whose deeds follow the will of another

The proprium is any attribute that is confined to the thing sought and is not found except in its individuals, if it has individuals — such as laughing by nature in relation to man, for it is confined to his individuals. These are the technical terms of the men of logic and their examples of them: animal is a genus, man a species, rational (nāṭiq) a differentia, bare-skinned a common accident, and laughing by nature a proprium

It has become clear to you from all that precedes that every affection of our souls which has entry into our apprehending and our imagining is called a conception; and that the conception, if it is outer, is the engraving of the image of the sensible matter, or of its trace, in the retentive faculty; and if it is inner, it is the bringing of that image before the mind; and if it is by the way of abstraction, it is the conceiving of that image while leaving its matter out of account ... and so forth

And you see that in none of them is there any judgment of anything upon that image, but only its being traced, or brought before the mind, or imagined. As in our saying: book, bird, Saʻīd, knowledge, death, circle, cone, existent, body, living, sentient, easy, beautiful

But if we were to say (ʻUmar is a Zanjī), then this saying of ours comprises two single conceptions, one of them ʻUmar and the other Zanjī; for we conceived ʻUmar, then conceived what we mean by Zanjī, and apprehended that between them there is a connection and a union, so we joined them and made them as one thing. And likewise if we were to say, this subject is beautiful: we shall have conceived this subject, and conceived what we mean and intend here by beauty, and found that between them there is a connection and a union, so we joined these two conceptions and made them as one thing, which we pointed to by our saying, this subject is beautiful

This intellectual movement is called (judgment and assent, ḥukm wa-taṣdīq). On this footing, judgment is the intellect's movement and its apprehending that a thing exists in some one of the states, or stripped of it. And a conception must necessarily precede that — that is, judgment is a branch of conception

Every judgment requires two conceptions: the first, the conception of that upon which judgment is passed, which is called the subject (mawḍūʻ) of the judgment; the second, the conception of that by which judgment is passed, which is called the predicate (maḥmūl) and the said-of (maqūl). And there is a further thing, namely the intellect's movement joining the two, and it is called the judgmental relation. The expression by which the judgment is conveyed is called a (proposition, qaḍīyah), and the subject of the judgment is its subject and its predicate is its predicate; and between them is the link of the syntactic inflection, or of the pronoun referring back from the predicate to the subject, and that link is the relation

Judgment is of two kinds: affirmative, which is your establishing of a truth you have apprehended, as in your saying, knowledge is beneficial; and negative, which is your denying of the contradictory of what you have apprehended, as in your saying, knowledge is not harmful

Affirmation and negation have their own particles and expressions, and by them the mention of the judgment in its entirety may be dispensed with, as in your saying yes or no in answer to a question. And these too may be dispensed with, a gesture of the hand or with something else sufficing. And the observing of certain particular natural states may suffice for judgment upon some matter, as redness for shame and pallor for fear.

It is no secret that every negative judgment involves an affirmation, since the denial of its quality of a thing indicates the verifying of the absence of that quality. So your saying, Zayd is not a thief, indicates the verifying of the non-occurrence of theft on his part. And the judgment, in view of its occurrence, is negative, and in view of the verifying of its absence from him, affirmative

Judgment is either (primary, awwalī) — that is, plain and evident, such that the soul is at rest in it and assents to it, and the intellect passes it immediately upon conceiving it, as in our saying: the whole is greater than its part; and as in your saying: of the two sides of a contradiction, one is always true and the other false — or else it cannot be apprehended unless other things are apprehended before it, and this is called sought (maṭlūb) and (acquired, muktasab), as if we wished to know that justice is the foundation of civilisation. For we need first to attain assent to this: that justice moves men to feel secure in their persons and their properties; and that this state is the foundation of the motives to prosperity; and that the love of prosperity calls for the drawing in of wealth by the crafts, agriculture and trade, and for the advancing and enlarging of these matters, which is civilisation. And then we know that justice is the foundation of civilisation

And inevitably this assent terminates in a primary assent that stands in no need of a prior assent. For the assent that is sought comes about only through assents to which it is linked, and which are therefore set out before it. And the more these are evident and settled, the more evident is the thing sought, the nearer to the hearer's heart, and the quicker his soul is to rest in it. And the skill of orators and of claimants lies here, in apprehending these preliminaries, picking out the strongest of them, and arranging them in a form that compels the hearer's conviction that the thing sought follows necessarily, and that produces in his soul its necessity and his assent to it of necessity

And the same holds of the conception that is the foundation of assents and judgments. For it is either (primary), not sought by inquiry and needing no conception before it for its own conceiving — like the single terms apprehended by sense, such as: book, mountain, horse; and like some of the meanings implanted in the mind by the effect of practice and familiarity, such as: existent, possible, living and dead — or else its name indicates something summary and unparticularised, so that its particularisation is sought, or something unknown to the hearer, so that its clarification by definition and a sound delimitation (ḥadd) is sought; and this too is called sought and (acquired), as in defining the elephant for one who does not know it and has not seen it, and other single terms besides. For we make it known to him by words whose significations are primary for him, and he joins what he conceives of them one to another in the order we have set out for him. And each time we add something to him, he increases in joining and in folding together, until the picturing of what we intended is completed in his mind; and the more the marks distinguishing it from other things are clear and complete, the more complete is his conception and the nearer to the truth. And the skill here lies in clarifying the distinguishing marks and arranging them, and this differs with the alertness of the one to whom the thing is made known. Yet man is a logician by innate disposition (fiṭrah), by virtue of the power of intellect that sets him apart; for by it he defines a thing, divides it, infers it, compares it and orders it. Only, most people do not understand: they look and do not see, and they hear and do not take in — indeed among them are those who comprehend not a word

Do you not see that orators and claimants differ utterly in excellence of delivery and clarity of exposition, and that hearers vary in strength of attention and fineness of mind? And errors often occur in the picturing and the conceiving, and in the seeking of assent and its attainment, so that no distinction is drawn between the complete conception and the one falling short of it, nor between certain assent and what is near to it, and doubt, and mere probability; nor is a distinction drawn between what one believes of truth or falsehood, and what one does of good or evil, and what one says of truth or lying. And one of them has said: every man has a tongue, and every tongue an exposition, but not every tongue has a spearhead, nor every exposition a demonstration; and not everyone with a heart is discerning, and every man has speech but not everyone with speech is deft, and every man has an intellect but not everyone with an intellect is intelligent

And Abū Sulaymān al-Manṭiqī said in this sense: men's cognitions, in summary statement and approximately, divide in their roots into opinion (ẓann), estimation, intuition (ḥads), intellect, certainty (yaqīn), doubt, the prevailing first presumption, inspiration (ilhām), foreboding (ījās), the passing thought (khāṭir), the thought that comes unbidden (sāniḥ), and the thought that gleams (lāʼiḥ). Then all of these at one time stand neighbour to one another, at another are entangled with one another, at another show themselves, and at another hide themselves away. And no object of inquiry among the objects of inquiry, and no doctrine among the doctrines, will ever come clear of an admixture of their like — in the measure of fewness and multitude, weakness and strength, softness and severity, according to temperament and constitution, humour and nature, origin and habit, and according to what pleases a man of his own independence or his following of authority. And were what he supposes purified of what he imagines, and what he senses distinguished from what he intellects, and what he knows separated from what he does not know, and what he truly seeks made plain from his caprice, then opinion would not enter into knowledge, nor would sense creep into the intellect, nor would the intellect spread abroad into sense; truth would not be muddied by falsehood, nor would falsehood be made clear by truth; things would be made plain in their own selves and cleansed of their defilements; the looker's doubt in the midst of them would depart and he would light upon their realities and their tidings; and the breast's coolness would come back with certainty, the soul inhabited by stillness, in no need of composing syllogism and demonstration or of compiling the arts of speech and exposition. But man is struck through with opinion and intuition, and made of intellect and sense, sent back and forth between deficiency and excess, and exposed at every moment to wretchedness and to felicity; he has no release from any of this so long as he is in his natural hide, his partial intellect and his total ignorance — unless, that is, God clothe him in the raiment of mercy and cover him over with the covering of preservation. End of quotation

And for this reason man cannot do without training himself in distinguishing truth from falsehood. So the scholars of logic hastened to gather what they found suitable for the guiding of the intellect and its schooling, in the way of rules, and to set out their arrangement and the manner of working by what they require, so that whoever is not secure against error in his disputations, his syllogisms, his inferences and his demonstrations might be saved by observing them — since he has need of this every day in his universal and his particular affairs. And in any case, practice in them gains for a man, in his intellectual powers, an alertness and a vigour that profit him in defending the truth and repelling doubts, and that increase his training and his capacity for tearing away the veils of estimative fancies and dispersing the clouds of deceptions; so falsehood perishes — « falsehood is ever bound to perish ». And these rules are the aim in (the science of logic). The Imām al-Ghazzālī named it the Criterion of Knowledge (Miʻyār al-ʻilm) and said, (whoever has no acquaintance with it, there is no trusting his knowledge). And it is our subject in this treatise