Introduction

I would like to thank Josh Reeves, Whitney Bauman, Gijsbert van den Brink, and Lisa Sideris for offering their commentaries on my book here in Zygon: Journal of Religion and Science. Ever since I started sharing versions of this book for feedback—the first version was completed in 2019—I was most afraid of hearing there were major flaws in the systematic philosophical position I outline and label “transcendental naturalism.” It is a pretty open philosophical position that aims to move beyond both modernism and postmodernism to what one could call metamodernism (see, e.g., Dempsey 2023). I did not spell this out in the various versions of the book, but at least readers have not accused me of being too much of a modernist and certainly not of being too much of a postmodernist, though the book is open to both of these philosophical positions and hence vulnerable to criticisms of either. Readers have apparently sensed my desire to arrive at an integral philosophy that makes the most out of modernism—through forcing some rigor onto our thinking by using transcendental philosophy—but an integral philosophy that immediately relativizes how far one can come with modernity given the presence of plurality. The metamodern impulse sits in my desire to not just end, on the one hand, with “Look at how beautifully this schema of everything in culture works!” or, on the other hand, with “Everything is uncertain so let’s reflect more!” but instead to put modern and postmodern tools to use in how one can possibly deal with climate change.

So, I ended up creating what some may consider a philosophical monster (“transcendental naturalism”) that has unexpected bedfellows and that not many people comfortably get theirs arms around in the first instance. I do realize that my book makes for some heavy reading: Reeves calls my philosophical position “sophisticated”; Bauman refers to it being based on “an impressive list of resources”; van den Brink similarly says it incorporates “widely divergent sources”; and Sideris finds its defense “painstakingly detailed” (but also “persuasive”). I am extremely appreciative of my commentators having invested the time and mental energy to engage with the book, especially those who do not see themselves as fully enmeshed with the areas of philosophy I cover. Their commentaries are really helping me with the new and exciting projects I am and will be working on following the book.

Let me say up front that I do not believe any one of the commentators has said my philosophical position is plain wrong (with van den Brink possibly being an exception—however, I do believe we agree more than that we disagree, as I will show). Instead, I am pleased to see the pattern I have experienced over the past few years is continuing. Repeatedly, readers said: “All nice and well with this ‘transcendental naturalism’ of yours but can you please say more about x, y, and z?” So, while the responses I received to the first version were along the line of “can you please say more about the sources—James, Rickert, and Latour?”, this time around—for the published version—I am hearing “can you please say more about the consequences?” So, I take these commentaries to be inviting me to briefly say more about how transcendental naturalism plays out for values and nature (Reeves), criticism and emergence (Bauman), metaphysics and God (van den Brink), and wonder and science (Sideris). The reflections offered in the commentaries are rich, and I largely agree with them, so I do advise a careful reading of those commentaries alongside this brief response in order to get a fuller picture of what this discussion on transcendental naturalism is really all about.

Values, Nature, and Science

Reeves states that transcendental naturalism has “many strengths,” but he has some concerns about my proposal, made following Bruno Latour, to redefine “nature” in the context of transcendental naturalism. Reeves challenges me for making a “metaphysical” proposal by following Latour in expanding the concept of “nature” to be equivalent with the “world” and by following Heinrich Rickert to even include ideal values. Now, let me start by pointing out that my argument for making this move is philosophically warranted (besides also being a terminological choice). I am not embarrassed to have staked a claim in the everlasting discussion on what one may mean by “nature,” but given my carefulness in trying to do as much philosophy as I can “on this side,” as distinct from “on the other side”—that is, through metaphysics (see my later response to van den Brink)—this comment made me think about what I have actually been doing here. My first hunch was that we are only dealing with terminological squabble. With Latour, I just defined “nature” to stand for “world,” which includes everything “on this side.” So, referring to the whole experienceable world—which includes meaning and value—by using the word “nature” is not then a metaphysical move but a terminological choice in the context of an ontology that actually reserves the term “metaphysics” for what lies outside of nature.

However, I admit there are consequences of such a terminological choice, and besides that, there is also a substantive ontological argument playing an underpinning role. Reeves is correct in observing that I give values a separate ontological status; they exist in an ideal domain (the domain of intelligible being) that is part of the world, or “nature,” as I have expanded the term. Values can get realized in actual reality (the domain of perceptible being) via a third domain of being, which Rickert calls the “pro-physical.” So, the heart of the matter is that Reeves rightfully points out that with my expansion of the concept of nature to include the intelligible as well as the perceptible (and the pro-physical connecting these two domains), I may be able to keep a small philosophical audience on board, but I will lose the majority of practicing scientists from my audience. Reeves argues that if I would instead, for instance, point to Thomas Kuhn for paradigms or Roger Scruton for cognitive dualism, I could also make my point that “values are an inherent part of scientific judgment,” with values being part of human nature. According to Reeves, there is no need to go further than this in the initial training of scientists.

I agree with Reeves that the discussion on the ontological status of values may act as a distraction in getting scientists to understand the role of values in their practices. But then they will continue to react in the same way I saw the scientists of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change react when they were told that Mother Earth was missing in their report: as deer in headlights (see Petersen 2023, 243–47). One of my present projects is to integrate transcendental naturalism and metamodernism in the new BSc program we are running at UCL on Science and Engineering for Social Change (through a second-year undergraduate module on Philosophy of Culture for Scientists and Engineers). If one wants scientists to be able to interact more productively with non-modern cultures—while I know this is never going to be smooth—they will need some deeper humanities training than they are currently receiving.¹

Therefore, I maintain that my metamodern expansion of the concept of “nature” (standing for “world”) is philosophically warranted, while also advising natural scientists to largely stick with a modern notion of “nature” (not including values) to do their science.

Criticism, Emergence, and Agnosticism

Bauman considers transcendental naturalism an “excellent example” of a new materialism. However, he sees too little critical theory in the book and challenges me to address more of the politics of the matter head on and in a critical and embodied fashion. Furthermore, he reflects that emergence theory would have been useful to set the larger scene and asks how that could be connected with transcendental naturalism.

I agree that although at the beginning of my book I explicitly support Lisa Stenmark and Bauman’s (2018) plea for instilling more “criticism” and “critical discourse” into science-and-religion, I do not develop much of such criticism in the book, except for my critical analysis of modern engagement with non-modern worldviews and practices (Petersen 2023, chapt. 8). To follow through on the importance I attach to critical theories and criticism, I am now codeveloping a new final-year undergraduate module on Science and Engineering as Cultures, which will largely focus on postmodern critical (mainly feminist) theories to analyze how science and engineering are contextual and political, toggling out of these theories at set points to reach back to a metamodern perspective, including transcendental naturalism, to then dive back in again. I will make sure to document and reflect on this line of work.

Furthermore, while indeed “emergence” was not included much in the book, I do include it extensively in my teaching using the book and in further philosophical research building on the book. In particular, I follow a metamodern perspective on complexity and emergence (see Dempsey 2023). Metamodernism, or what can be called the “metamodern code” (with transcendental naturalism as an epistemological underpinning), emerged out of the postmodern code that emerged out of the modern code that emerged out of the premodern code that emerged out of the Indigenous code, etc. And in the grander scheme of nature: culture emerged out of mind, which emerged out of life—which emerged out of matter.

Bauman is not so sure whether there is a “call” from emergence theory for a transcendental component (like there definitely is one for a naturalistic component), but then he identifies this component spot on as also being present in process thought “in which the possibilities for becoming provide the transcendence for each entity in a moment-by-moment basis.” In my book, I identify a similar transcendental component in Latour’s thought; however, I do not think his metaphysical choice for (a variation on) process thought is philosophically required. Still, I argue that a non-metaphysical transcendental component needs to be there in any philosophy: this component deals with values that become realized, that is, emerge—thus, values are uncovered in a manner not just limited to sense experience but requiring a transcendental dimension.

Bauman finally invites me to come along with him and the late Michael Ruse and choose the agnostic position, but I also do not think that philosophically I am required to commit to that metaphysical step, however much I respect it and can see the beauty of it. I say “philosophically” here on purpose, in the sense that the neo-Kantians saw philosophy as a Wissenschaft, distinguishing it from metaphysics and theology, two other fields that at least Rickert did not count as Wissenschaft. I am very much prepared to entertain a more open and tolerant approach to what counts as Wissenschaft—I have no political purposes to exclude any field in which critical reflection among a community of scholars takes place in the university (see also my response to van den Brink immediately following). My book can maybe be seen as constituting my prolegomena, to enable me and others to always be clear for themselves where in the world they sit ontologically with their different activities and how uncertainty plays out there: natural sciences, social sciences, humanities, and within that latter category ontology and epistemology—but it isn’t the last word on many questions. There is so much to still be explored.

Theory, Metaphysics, and God

Van den Brink praises the novelty, timeliness, and openness of my transcendental naturalistic approach. However, he challenges the transcendental component—at least in an interpretation of Kant’s transcendentalism based on an interpretation of Kant’s contemporary Thomas Reid. In this view, it is argued that (contrary to how Kant is said to have it) concepts do not constitute “structural barriers” between mind and reality. The flipside of this argument is that, as van den Brink states, “we can trust our senses.” In my book, I observe a very similar interpretation of Kant by James that (a) such an interpretation is only one possibility (albeit a dominant one in the English-speaking world) and (b) Rickert offers his pro-physics as an innovative solution to the problem observed (Petersen 2023, 62–68). I argue that:

[Rickert], [l]ike James . . . finds a middle ground where—in a way structurally similar to how James positioned his “pure experience” vis-à-vis “thought” and “thing”—”reality” and “validity” are transcendentally assumed but not yet separated in the meaning that is bestowed in the act of a valuing judgement. (Petersen 2023, 64)

Now, I will not further parse here Rickert’s theory of pro-physics, or, as it also could be called, his theory of the “pro-perceptual” (for that, refer to my book).

Let me instead move on to the crux of van den Brink’s criticism: my treatment, along with Kant’s, of the philosophical status of “metaphysics,” which indeed is an important element of Kant’s, Rickert’s, and my own transcendental philosophy. I emphasize in my book that transcendental naturalism features an extreme openness to different metaphysical positions, including that of theism. However, just like I will not let myself be forced by Bauman to adopt the agnostic position, I cannot agree philosophically that theism (or atheism, for that matter) is conclusively the best theory.

Upon reflection on the academic status of metaphysics, triggered by van den Brink’s commentary, I conclude that metaphysics does not need to sit in philosophy’s doghouse—I am willing to loosen my use of the term “philosophy” to include metaphysics and acknowledge that one can definitely theorize about God and be considered rational in doing so. However, I maintain, with Rickert, that religion is essentially and foremost an atheoretical activity that crosses with theory in its use of metaphysics. I simultaneously plea for opening up metaphysical theorization to Indigenous thought (see, e.g., Simpson 2017).

Let me thus sum up my position in careful terms: I doubt that metaphysics can reach the levels of certainty some other parts of philosophy may be able to, though in the end all philosophy, including transcendental philosophy, is uncertain and starts from particular metaphysical assumptions. If in the end we remain uncertain on every front, that is good enough for me. However, I must add that one really has to go through postmodernism to fully get what I’m aiming at with transcendental naturalism, and this may be too difficult to stomach for some. Still, the metamodern perspective can make one less fearful of the postmodern perspective. It also makes one realize that agreement on metaphysics is not necessary for most religious people to agree with transcendental naturalism’s exhortation that one should experience “the natural world as a place of wonder and mystery instead of taking it for granted and instrumentalizing it” (in van den Brink’s words).

Wonder, Nature, and Science

Finally, Sideris praises the account of science given in the book as a practice open to wonder. However, she thinks that I, in fighting scientistic appropriations of wonder in the context of ecological conservation, could have looked more at wonder outside the practices of science and at the importance of the I–Thou relationship. I agree with Sideris that we need the personal experience of wonder at nature in hands-on settings. The poetics of, for instance, Rachel Carson (see Sideris 2017; De Cruz 2024), are much more powerful than science with some poetry added. I admit that this aspect of wonder has been snowed under in the book by my in-depth analysis of the role of wonder in science, complemented by a relatively succinct analysis of the role of wonder in religious ritual.

For me, the question of wonder is central to the openness to uncertainty. In response to Sideris’s argument that a broader access to wonder than solely through science is important “for broader motivation on behalf of the environment,” I would say that we can use the different values Latour distinguishes (see Table 1 for Latour’s domains or modes of existence) to indicate what uncertainty is at stake, and express a different type of wonder for each. For “reproduction,” we wonder whether what we hold dear can continue to exist. For “metamorphosis,” we wonder whether we let ourselves be lured out of our individual and collective psychosis. For “habit,” we wonder whether we can actually move towards more sustainable courses of action and then attend to them. For “technology,” we wonder what is and is not possible, realizing full well the limitations and risks of new technologies. For “fiction,” we wonder how stories about the future—both positive and negative and neither—hold up and whether we can relate to the fictional nature-cultures offered. For “reference,” we wonder how scientific models will pan out. For “politics,” we wonder how majority groups can be formed that attack sustainability issues. For “law,” we wonder how in future nature will be represented. For “religion,” we wonder what it means in the present world to be saved. For “attachment,” we wonder about what we really hold dear. For “organization,” we wonder how we get ourselves going and on track through rules and institutions. For “morality,” we wonder how we weigh costs and benefits in the context of inequity. For “network,” we wonder about how everything is connected to everything. For “preposition,” we wonder how we can toggle in and out of transcendental naturalism and the different modes of existence. What I mean to say is that none of these fourteen modes of wonder requires any specialization; they are all accessible to everyone with a little bit of practice. I am not saying this solves the problem; I am just highlighting what we can wonder about and that most of this lies outside of science.

To conclude, I agree with Sideris that there is more to wonder than I address in the book, and thus that Latour’s plea for building a ritual around Gaia (see Petersen 2023, 173) may suffer from exactly the same problem as the one Sideris has identified more generally for mythopoeticized science (Sideris 2017).

Acknowledgments

A previous version of this response was presented at a book panel organized by the Science, Technology and Religion Unit of the American Academy of Religion (AAR) at the AAR Annual Meeting 2024, San Diego, USA, November 24, 2024. The International Society for Science and Religion has published a recording of the book panel at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=D7hWwrhnmyE.