So What's the Problem with Universals?

I recently sat outside a coffee shop with my son, who will be thirty in fewer years than I care to think about. As we talked, I had a moment of de ja vue of a moment of de ja vue. Myles has a bright, intellectual mind and a quick, very dry wit that are balanced by, and sometimes at war with, a quite passionate nature. However, it isn't these traits, which are apparent to all who've known him for any length of time, that brought on the de ja vue. Rather, it was that one trait which, because of the moments that it has taken me by surprise, stands out above all others. It is his affection.

Myles is by nature a demonstratively affectionate person. From infancy he was one of those children who enjoyed close physical contact; he would snuggle in when held, even as he grew into his elementary years and sat next to me on the sofa. The surprises have come, however, when Myles has demonstrated affection when one is not expecting it to be shown, or at least not in the manner or to the degree that is it shown. For instance, in his middle-school years when he would say good-bye to his father or me and, with his friends standing by watching, he would lean into the car to give a hug and a kiss on the cheek. After his first year in college Myles began to work in the shop where both my husband and I work. Shortly after he started working there, Myles surprised me once again. He came through the office on his way to or from the lunchroom, stopped, hugged me and said, “Hello Mother, how is your day today?” He was, by all appearances, completely oblivious to both my co-workers and the client standing at the front counter. To this day, I receive a daily hug at the office. This evening, while we were deep in conversation on matters of the heart, Myles reached across the table and held my hand for a rather extended length of time as we conversed. His total lack of concern that anyone may think it strange to see a young man holding his mother’s hand in public touched my soul in a manner too deep for words to express.

I am currently taking a philosophy class, and one of the new concepts I have been taught about is that of universals. I am not sure that this is the place for a deep discussion on the subject and, truth be told, I am not capable of going much beyond the surface of the subject. However, the concept intrigues me. According to DeWeese and Moreland in their book, "Philosophy Made Slightly Less Difficult" universals are “entit[ies] that can be in more than one place at the same time or in the same place at different, interrupted time intervals” (32). The authors spend a great deal of time discussing the fact that there are those who do not believe in the existence of universals and rebutting their arguments.

Personally, I am simply too pragmatic to NOT believe that logic can exist in my brain, in my professors brain and in my cousin's brain at the same moment. I also believe that logic can exist in any one of those brains today, and again tomorrow, and again a week later. So, yes, I fall into the camp of those who believe that there are such things as universals.

But what, you may ask, do universals and my son's affection have to do with each other?

Glad you asked.

It was after that coffee date with my son that I began to have an understanding of universals. The affection that Myles showed as a middle schooler, the affection he shows regularly at work, and the affection he showed as we sipped iced coffee drinks on a summer evening, are one and the same. If Myles can be affectionate at different times, that is half the definition of a universal.

I submit that it is also possible for multiple people to show affection at the same time. Myles is not the only person who shows affection toward others. At the same time that he was showing affection toward me that evening, I observed a mother showing affection toward her small child in the manner in which she held and spoke to the child. I also observed a man and woman showing affection toward each other through the interactions and looks that passed between them as they walked along the sidewalk. All these expressions of affection happened simultaneously

So affection can be in multiple places at the same time, or at the same place at different, separated, times. Therefore affection fits the criteria of a universal.

Because universals are in existence, one can see that the sky is blue, whether living in Oregon or Nairobi; know that water is wet whether in Bangladesh or Venezuela; be the recipient of comfort in Hawaii or Iran. We have name words for these properties so that we can communicate with one another about them. If there were no universals, those concepts to which we attach words (love, red, hungry) would have no meaning. Words themselves would have little or no meaning, and communication would be nearly impossible because one person might call an entity green, while another might call the same entity hope, and still another might call it dry. There would be no common ground for discussion of ideas or patterns in nature.

I love that God created an orderly universe in which there are concepts that we can understand and agree upon. Universals, those properties that can be in multiple places at the same time, or in the same place at different times, are a part of that order. Whether we say red stick or baton rouge, those who speak our language understand the concept about which we are speaking: the color property of a piece of wood. God created the cosmos in such a manner as to be knowable, and He created humans in such a manner as to be curious about the cosmos.

Personally, I think that is universally cool.