No True Scotsman (Part Two): The Scotus Story in Radical Orthodoxy

II. The Scotus Story: Its Presence and Character in the Radical Orthodoxy Movement

Recently, this “Scotus Story” is most typically associated with the movement of “Radical Orthodoxy” that emerged mostly amongst Anglo-Catholic theologians in Britain in the mid-1990’s.  As James K. A. Smith puts it in his excellent introduction to the movement “there is a sense in which [Radical Orthodoxy’s] own identity is narratival and thus must be articulated within and by this story [of Duns Scotus’ legacy].”[1]  Key to this is the broader contention (by no means limited or dependent upon the Scotus thesis)[2] that “aspects of late medieval theological thought underpin later characteristically ‘modern’ ideas.”[3]

While we cannot get into details here, there is a bit more variation in this story than is typically suggested by Radical Orthodoxy’s detractors.  William Cavanaugh for example, though he agrees with much of the general theological critique of modern political and philosophical thought that Radical Orthodoxy puts forward, and was one of the original contributors to their manifesto volume, does not include the “Scotus Story” in any of his major works which focus on other more proximate segments of history.[4]

Conor Cunningham spends extensive time on Scotus in his complicated work, Genealogy of Nihilism, focusing mainly on Scotus’ elevation of contingency.  He argues that ultimately Scotus’ definition of contingency—“I do not call contingent that which is not necessary, or not always, but that the opposite of which could have happened at the very same time it actually did”—puts “nothingness” at the core of all things which could always have been exactly otherwise than they are.[5]  Cunningham believes this concept of contingency undermines any notion of concrete identity mirroring God—for humans in particular it undermines any sense of the Imago Dei. He sees Scotus as part of a broader story, however, tracing Cunningham’s own neologism “meontology” back to Plotinus’ neo-Platonism.[6] 

Michael Hanby, while not necessarily disagreeing with the “Scotus Story” of his compatriots, focuses more on how reception of Augustine was distorted through semi-Pelagianism and Stoicism, ultimately leading to Augustine being read through Descartes.[7]  Likewise, Johannes Hoff (while not strictly speaking self-identifying with Radical Orthodoxy) notes that while “I agree with John Milbank’s thesis that the historical decisions that led to Immanuel Kant’s accomplished nihilism presupposed Duns Scotus’ univocal turn as a conditio sine qua non”, he caveats that his thesis “fails to support” the idea that Duns Scotus is somehow solely to blame for Western nihilism.[8]  Small comfort for Duns fans, no doubt.  This leads Hoff to focus less on Scotus, and more on the concept of linear perspective and mathematical space developed by Fillipo Brunelleschi and others.  Far from being the invention of moden science, the “disenchanted” mathematicized and mechanized worldview is a product of the arts in Renaissance Italy.[9]  This does not get Scotus off the hook with Hoff though, as he mentions in passing at several points that this “representationalist” notion of space that Descartes, and then 17th century science elaborate is the legacy of “Bacon, Duns Scotus [emphasis added], Ockham, and Alberti.”[10] 

Graham Ward—one of the founding members of Radical Orthodoxy—spends little time on the Scotus Story, though he displays implicit agreement with it.  Rather than the concept of contingency, as with Cunningham, Ward promotes what he terms an “analogical worldview” in his exploration of how architectural representation of space and time are not neutral but signify a web of signs and concepts as dense as any book or poem.  As a consequence he (mostly implicitly) pushes against any concept of “univocity of being” between God and creatures.  The only real moments he discusses either Scotus or Ockham (at least in one of his major works, Cities of God) are in regards to how they view the presence of Christ in the Eucharist;[11] though he does in passing remark upon how Scotus’ theory of univocity broke the world into pieces that no longer relate to analogical wholes.[12]

Adrian Pabst in his recent demanding work Metaphysics: The Invention of Hierarchy, (which is probably also the most sophisticated historical narrative variation of Radical Orthodoxy so far) combines the “Scotus Story” with several other strands that he sees as intersecting with one another to create the lamentable modern condition:

[Much of contemporary philosophy and theology] relies upon questionable reading of the origin and the nature of the ‘modern’ and the ‘postmodern.’ … There was never any absolute, irreversible break that gave rise to a coherent system of ideas and institutions we commonly call ‘modernity.’  Rather, there are profound continuities between the late Middle Ages and the modern era that continue to shape our ‘postmodern condition’ … Indeed both modern philosophy and theology emerged from the confluence of three significant shifts within the ‘Western’ traditions of late medieval scholasticism: first of all, the Avicennian primacy of essence over existence …; second, the Scotist destruction of (what later would be validly be described as) the Thomist analogia entis, in favor of the univocity of being … ; and third, the Suarezian priority of metaphysics as the science of general being over theology as the science of revelation and the concomitant separation of ‘pure nature’ from the supernatural. … In turn [these conceptions] underpin three traditions that have dominated philosophy ever since: first, the rationalist or idealist transcendentalism of Descartes, Hobbes, Wolff, and Kant; second, the empiricist or vitalist immanentism of Spinoza, Locke, Smith, and Bergson; third, the residually transcendental science of ontology masquerading as an atheological, pure philosophy (from Husserl and Heidegger via Sartre to Deleuze and, perhaps to a lesser extent, Marion).[13] 

David Bentley Hart—who like Hoff above has, to my knowledge, never claimed the title of “Radical Orthodoxy,” but finds his theology comporting quite well with its sensibilities[14]—nevertheless critiques Catherine Pickstock’s general treatment of Scotus in his review essay of her book that appeared in the journal Pro Ecclesia.[15]  After surveying what he considers to be a few minor infelicities in Pickstock’s study, Hart turns to her treatment of Scotus and notes, “she seems to have exceeded her expertise here.”  So great is “her (quite unnecessary) desire to provide a precise genealogy of modernity that she distorts Scotus’ logic considerably in order to advance her plot.”  Hart goes on to note that her reading is hardly surprising given that it is the general one associated with “Radical Orthodoxy,” nonetheless “Scotus certainly deserves better to be treated as merely the first modern.”[16]

The real perpetrators of the so-called “Scotus Story” are John Milbank, Gavin Hyman, and above all, Catherine Pickstock.  Hyman follows the narrative of Milbank and Pickstock to a “T” so we will not deal with him here.[17]  It is truly difficult to exaggerate the importance Scotus has for Milbank and Pickstock.  For Milbank, Scotus represents “the turning point in the destiny of the West.”[18]  Such statements can be indefinitely multiplied across the span of his oeuvre.[19]  In one sense, the turn to Scotus is a move explicitly made to counter certain alternative stories that could be told.[20]  From a theological standpoint, it runs counter to what Hanby has deemed the “grim paternity” narrative of Augustine’s (supposedly) ill-fated legacy,[21] or what T.F. Torrance in more forceful terms has called the “Latin Heresy.”[22]  As Morwenna Ludlow points out then, the narratival character of Radical Orthodoxy is not necessarily unique, it is just that Milbank is doing something equal yet opposite to someone like Torrance:

The dramatis personae of Milbank’s genealogies (Gregory of Nyssa, Augustine, pseudo-Dionysius, Eckhart) are rather different from those of Torrance (Athanasius, Gregory Nazianzus, Calvin) but the underlying method is somewhat similar.  Like Torrance, Milbank’s method has the tendency to create not only theological heroes, but genealogies of villains which are connected by some fundamental theological or philosophical loyalty (compare Torrance’s ‘Platonist’ line of Origen, Basil, and Gregory of Nyssa, with Milbank’s ‘Aristotelian’ villains, such as Duns Scotus and Descartes). … [T]he nature of such genealogies is to give structure to Christian history, to delineate the contours of the development of Christian doctrine: they often presuppose a period of decline in Christian theology beyond which one has to stretch to a better age.[23]

A similar comparison could be made between Gunton and Milbank (with Gunton generally finding Torrance’s narrative more favorable).  For example in The One, The Three, and the Many Gunton targets Milbank’s generally quite rosy picture of Augustine and the neo-Platonic strands of Christianity, saying he finds both this and the general thesis of modernity arising out of nominalism to be unsatisfactory.[24]  Just a page later however, Gunton himself accuses Ockham of a doctrine of “Platonic abstraction” (!) which loses the particular and sets the stage for some of modernity’s problems.  This odd charge of “Platonism” in Ockham’s case allows Gunton to telescope the narrative of Ockham’s deficiencies back all the way to his previously laid critiques of Augustine’s similar flaws.  For it turns out, Gunton found Milbank’s story of modernity rising out of nominalism deficient not for the ideas it attempts to put forward, but because on Milbank’s account according to Gunton, modernity “arises too suddenly.”[25] 

For Gunton then, linking nominalist deficiencies back to an Augustinan Platonism is the historiographical equivalent of a slow pressure cooker, allowing certain destructive ideas sufficient time to marinate in the Western tradition.  Case in point, Augustine’s deficient Trinitarian theology is connected to a similar deficiency in Ockham.  Milbank, too, believes Ockham’s trinitarianism to be deficient, for with nominalism “following Duns Scotus [!] the Trinity loses its significance as a prime location for discussing will and understanding in God and the relationship of God to the world.”[26]  Gunton largely agrees with the diagnosis—its just that he wants Augustine and the neo-Platonists to be thrown in the fire, while leaving Scotus (mostly)[27] unscathed.

If nothing else, this is a particularly interesting wrinkle in the “Scotus Story” (broadly conceived), which still attempts to keep a diagnosis of many of the problems that nominalism and voluntarism wrought, but ultimately uncouples the critique from univocity, for which Gunton in his later work Act and Being praises Scotus.[28]  In a particularly fascinating moment, though he is not making a direct historical connection, Gunton nonetheless links the “positive” or kataphatic theology of Scotus to Gregory Nazianzus of all people, thus grafting him into Gunton’s general love of all things Cappadocian and the approved Torrancean hall of heroes—which, aside from Athanasius and Cyril of Alexandria, lauds Gregory in particular.[29]  Later on in his work, Gunton will take up univocity himself saying the Scotist concept is demanded by a robust notion of the incarnation.[30]

So what then does Milbank believe he achieves by targeting Scotus?  Part of what this narrative does for Milbank is demonstrate the idea that theology’s seeming obsolescence and marginalization in the modern period did not in fact come about because it was conquered by an external, superior force (say, philosophy, or the sciences).  Rather theology went through what is better described as a sort of self-marginalization when it made illicit transitions away from a theology based on analogy and participation in God. 

This self-marginalization of theology does not mean theology disappeared.  As part of this “Scotus Story” (to stick with that convenient title), univocal theology allowed theological concepts to migrate into secular territory, and then eventually forget that they were theological.   What was divine became nature, or society, or even the will of the human individual:

only the theological model [of voluntaristic sovereignty] permits one to construct the mythos of the sovereign power, or sovereign person, so that it is not the case of ‘essentially’ secular and pragmatic realities being temporarily described in antique theological guise. … Only within the terms of [this] new theology is divine sanction [in modernity] pushed into the remote background … It is when theology finally drops out of modern theories of sovereignty that the real moment of mystification occurs, because here the ‘mythic’ [theological] character of sovereignty is forgotten.[31]

These two concepts—that theology was not conquered by an alien force, but self-marginalized through what can in hindsight be seen as illicit theological transformations, and the specific nature of this self-marginalization allowed theological ideas to be transplanted into what became secular discourse—essentially define Milbank’s task of historical genealogy.  For what this means is that theology can remain a “meta-discourse” over purportedly secular, “non-theological” theory and practice.  By unearthing this historically theological character of purportedly secular phenomena, Milbank can demonstrate a) that in order to function properly secular concepts must presuppose a theological ontology or b) if they do not suppose a theological ontology, they will have demonstrable holes in their logic and practice where the theology should have been.  These holes are the attack points that Milbank exploits to unravel modern secular constructs by displaying that they are not “scientific” per se, but theological heresies.

It is a peculiar feature of Milbank’s use of Scotus that he hardly ever engages the Oxford theologian at any length.  Daniel Horan is quite right when he points out that beyond some of the initial characterizations, Milbank does not really advance or develop his claims in regards to Scotus.[32]  Indeed, if one were simply reading his most famous work, Theology and Social Theory, though Scotus does show up in a few key places, one would hardly come to the conclusion that he would become Milbank’s go-to whipping boy. 

In fact, though major critiques of Radical Orthodoxy’s use of Scotus have emerged[33]—whatever their own legitimacy might be I leave aside in this essay—Milbank does not answer them but largely defers to the work of Catherine Pickstock.  In fact in his most recent work Milbank functionally ignores any critiques leveled at his understanding of Scotus and simply doubles-down on the Scotus narrative.[34]

While Pickstock is the most in-depth proponent of the “Scotus Story” amongst Radical Orthodoxy, she also is a bit more cautious than Milbank in that she does not want to conflate “voluntarism” and “nominalism” in the same way he does.[35]  Moreover, she is not quite as reductive as is typically represented by many who decry the “Scotus Story.”  It is only fair to state that Scotus is not the sole focus of her story, merely the most exemplary.  She writes regarding recent efforts in scholarship to trace key shifts in the Middle Ages leading in the direction of Modern philosophy, and notes “Duns Scotus has been seen as central to this change, but by no means its sole instigator or contributor.”  She continues and cites other important figures: “Avicenna, Gilbert Porreta, Roger Bacon, Peter Olivi, Bonaventure, Henry of Ghent, William of Ockham, Jean Buriden.”  Moreover she does not want to present this shift as a crude “before and after” for even “if the break from the analogical worldview became most marked in the fourteenth-century, nevertheless it is clear that tendencies in this direction had been put in place since at least the twelfth century.”[36]

Nonetheless, the standard features of the story are present in, and elaborated upon, in her work:

Duns Scotus asserted the metaphysical priority of Being over both the infinite and the finite alike.  Thus God is deemed ‘to be’ in the same univocal manner as creatures, and although God is distinguished by an ‘intensity of being’ He nonetheless remains within, or subordinate to the category of Being (which now becomes the sole object of metaphysics).[37]

And this, much like the rest of Radical Orthodoxy, is not some obscure point for Pickstock.  “Given that attempts to improve society in a secular way via the state and market have so visibly failed, perhaps this revised genealogy which stresses the legacy of a distorted religious theory and practice, could also point us indirectly toward a more serious alternative future polity than the liberal and postmodern critiques.”[38]  Indeed, both modern and postmodern themselves merely represent “a certain middle ages” and so are not new, but non-identical and distorted repetitions of the Christian past.[39]



[1] James K. A. Smith, Introducing Radical Orthodoxy: Mapping a Post-Secular Theology (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2004), 89-90.  Cf. A much more critical take in Wayne Hankey, “Radical Orthodoxy’s Poesis: Ideological Historiography and Anti-Modern Polemic,” American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly, 80 (2006): 1-21.
[2] For example, see the work of Bruce Holsinger, The Premodern Condition: Medievalism and the Making of Theory (Chicago: University of Chicago, 2005), e.g. 2: “Maurice Blanchot, Jacques Derrida, Jacques Lacan, Julia Kristeva, Roland Barthes, and Pierre Bourdieu are just a few among the subsequent generation of French intellectuals who credited [George Bataille] with inspiring significant turning points or departures in their thought.  That Bataille did so as a practicing medievalist, however, has been all but forgotten, the casualty of a presentism that continues in large part to define the historiography of modern critical thought.”
[3] Catherine Pickstock, “Modernity and Scholasticism: A Critique of Recent Invocations of Univocity,” Antonianum 78 (2003): 3-47.  Quote on page 3.
[4] No mention of Scotus in Torture and Eucharist (Massachusetts: Wiley-Blackwell, 1998); The Theopolitical Imagination: Christian Practices of Space and Time (New York: Bloomsbury T&T Clark, 2002); or The Myth of Religious Violence: Secular Ideology and the Roots of Modern Conflict (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009).
[5] Conor Cunningham, Genealogy of Nihilism (London: Routledge, 2002), 31f.
[6] Ibid., 3-9.
[7] Michael Hanby, Augustine and Modernity (London: Routledge, 2003), esp. 106-181.
[8] Johannes Hoff, The Analogical Turn: Rethinking Modernity with Nicholas of Cusa (Grand Rapids: Eerdman’s Publishing, 2013), xxii.
[9] Ibid., 44-60.
[10] Ibid., 57.
[11] Graham Ward, Cities of God (London: Routledge, 2001), 155-160.
[12] Ibid., 190.
[13] Adrian Pabst, Metaphysics: The Creation of Hierarchy (Grand Rapids: Eerdman’s Publishing, 2012), 385-386
[14] David Bentley Hart, The Beauty of the Infinite: The Aesthetics of Christian Truth (Grand Rapids: Eerdman’s Publishing, 2003): “Western theology made its own, quite substantial contribution to modern ‘nihilism’: when nominalism largely severed the perceptible world from the analogical index of divine transcendence, and thus reduced divine freedom to a kind of ontic voluntarism …” (133);  “Being itself could now be conceived of only in absolutely opposite terms: as a veil, or an absence [of meaning]…The entire pathology of the modern and postmodern [of Derrida, Levinas, Foucault, Nancy, Lyotard, Deleuze] can be diagnosed as a multifarious narrative of the unrepresentable sublime, according to the paradigm of Kant’s critical project: what pure reason extracts from experience and represents to itself is neutral appearance, separated by an untraversable abyss from everything ‘meaningful..’” (44-45, 81).
[15]  David Bentley Hart, “Review Essay: Catherine Pickstock, After Writing: On the Liturgical Consummation of Philosophy,” Pro Ecclesia, IX no.3: 367-372.
[16] Ibid., 370.
[17] For example, his most recent work: Gavin Hyman, A Short History of Atheism (London: I.B. Tauris, 2010), esp. 47-81.
[18] John Milbank, The Word Made Strange (Oxford: Blackwell, 1997), 44.
[19] For a particularly pure example that hits all of the high notes in one go, Cf. John Milbank, On the Future of Love: Essays in Political Theology (Eugene: Wipf and Stock Publishers, 2009), 159: “Scotus anticipated transcendental philosophy, idolized God, obscured the ontological difference, and implied (unlike Augustine or Aquinas) that any being can be fully ‘present.’  In this fashion the Oxford theologian set us on the intellectual course to modernity.”
[20] Colin Gunton, The One, the Three, and the Many: God, Creation, and the Culture of Modernity (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1993), 138-139, accuses Aquinas, arguing his form of analogy was what caused the “erection of theological structures independently of Christology and pneumatology,” and was the “underlying cause of modern atheism.” 
[21] Hanby, Augustine and Modernity, remarks: “In its theological guise, the reassessment of Augustine is part and parcel of Christianity’s ongoing self-assessment, especially in the West,” and, “in its philosophical and political guise, it is part of culture’s ongoing reassessment of Christianity,” in relation to new, secular forms of life and thought” (6).  These connections of modern systematic theology’s historical narratives “have provided the architecture for a grand story of modern origins now taken as axiomatic by thinkers with little in common.  And Augustine’s place within them is crucial as one of the West’s great metaphysical pillars” (135).  Karen Kilby, “Aquinas, the Trinity, and the Limits of Understanding,” International Journal of Systematic Theology no.7 vol.4 (October, 2005): 415-416, also rightly acknowledges how this narrative spills into readings of Thomas Aquinas (or vice-versa, backwards to Augustine).  She writes: “The need for this [Trinitarian] rehabilitation stems from the fact that, in the broader revival of Trinitarian theology over the last forty years or so, Aquinas has often been presented as a classic example of thinking about the Trinity gone wrong, trinitarian theology done in such a way as to make the doctrine seem sterile, confusing, and irrelevant. … Thomas is rarely censured in isolation: most often the context is a criticism of the whole Western tradition of Trinitarian reflection.  The pattern was set by Augustine, and it is his influence … that is the root of the problem, a problem which, according to many, is seen today in the fact that the doctrine of the Trinity so easily appears to be an intellectual puzzle with no relevance to the faith of most Christians.”
[22] T.F. Torrance, “Karl Barth and the Latin Heresy,” Scottish Journal of Theology 39:6 (1986): 461-482.
[23] Morwenna Ludlow, Gregory of Nyssa: Ancient and Postmodern (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 270-271.
[24] Gunton, The One, The Three, and The Many, 55n.20.
[25] Ibid.
[26] John Milbank, Theology and Social Theory: Beyond Secular Reason 2nd Ed. (New York: Wiley-Blackwell, 2006), 15.
[27] Gunton does critique Scotus for not going far enough to subvert typical scholastic method (Colin Gunton, Act and Being: Towards a Theology of the Divine Attributes (Grand Rapids: Eerdman’s Publishing, 2003), 69).
[28] Ibid.
[29] Ibid., 68.
[30] Ibid., 155.; Cf. T.F. Torrance, The Trinitarian Faith (Edinburgh: T&T Clark, 1988), e.g. 319-322.
[31] Milbank, Theology and Social Theory, 27.
[32] Horan, Postmodernity and Univocity, 17.
[33] For example Mary Beth Ingham, “Re-Situating Scotist Thought,” Modern Theology 21 (2005), who argues that Radical Orthodoxy have “moved from interpretations about Scotus to affirmations about his thought” while neglecting to consider Scotist thought from within the considerations of his “Franciscan assumptions” (609); Richard Cross, “’Where Angels Fear to Tread’: Duns Scotus and Radical Orthodoxy,” Antonianum 76 (2001) who contests the “accuracy of the various accounts” of Radical Orthodoxy (7); and in a seminal essay, Thomas Williams, “The Doctrine of Univocity is True and Salutary,” Modern Theology, 21 (2005): 575-585, also aims at Radical Orthodoxy.  Either univocity is true, says Williams, or God-talk is unintelligible.
[34] John Milbank, Beyond Secular Order: The Representation of Being and the Representation of the People (Massachusetts: Wiley-Blackwell, 2013), essentially the first half of the book constitutes a forceful reiteration of the Scotus story (19-114) by focusing on four key areas—what Milbank terms the “four pillars of modern philosophy.”  These are 1) univocity 2) the “mirroring” or “representative” theory of cognition 3) primacy of the possible over the actual and 4) causal “concurrence” of God and creature on the same plane of existence.  All four of these are linked to Duns Scotus and provide the first movement of ontology that leads into Milbank’s discussion on politics.
[35] Catherine Pickstock, After Writing: On the Liturgical Consummation of Philosophy (London: Routledge, 1998), 122-166.
[36] Catherine Pickstock, “Duns Scotus: His Historical Significance,” Modern Theology 21:4 (2005): 543.
[37] Pickstock, After Writing, 122.
[38] Catherine Pickstock, “Postmodernism,” in William Cavanaugh and Peter Scott, eds., The Blackwell Companion to Political Theology (Massachusetts: Blacwell Publishing, 2007), 471.
[39] Ibid., 475.

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