Berkeley, born in Ireland in 1685, is usually classified as an “Empiricist”, along with two other Brits John Locke and David Hume. But as you will see, he was a character all his own. He started out following Locke claiming that all we have on which to base our knowledge claims are the “impressions” made on our minds by sense data. Locke ended up not being able to explain where these sense data come from since we do not actually “see” or experience the “objects” making up the physical world directly, Our minds shape our various sense data into objects.
It occurred to Berkeley that perhaps all this talk about sense data and impressions forming the objects we experience in our minds is simply “extra baggage”. Would it not be easier to do away with all this talk about physical objects altogether and simply stick with what we do in fact experience, namely mental sense data. Berkeley argued that “physical objects” are nothing but figments of our imaginations, or rather, figments of the imaginations of philosophers. What we actually experience are various combinations of sense data that come to us on a regular basis, and we learn to call these “physical objects.”
So, Berkeley concluded that things would be a lot simpler and rational if we would stick with talk about our sense data and simply drop all this talk about hypothetical “physical objects” altogether. As a Bishop in the Anglican Church, his next move was unsurprising. He claimed that reality is exclusively comprised of our minds and that of God, the Superior Mind. God has arranged for our minds to receive the ideas from His mind, the combination of which comprise what we call the “real world”. In short, our world, the sum total of all the sense data we receive, is the result of our “thinking God’s thoughts after Him.” Clearly, Berkeley thought that he had herby constructed a new and foolproof argument for the existence of God.
In a sense, to be sure, nothing has really changed. Berkeley’s argument for the non-existence of physical objects and the existence of God leaves everything as it was, except now we will talk only of sense-data and various combinations thereof instead of “physical objects”. These combinations come directly from the mind of God not from some fictious things called “physical objects”. As strange as all this sounds, no less a great mind as that of Bertrand Russell claimed that: “While no one has ever been able to refute Berkeley, neither has anyone ever taken him seriously.” It seems that Berkeley has simply altered the terminology that we use to speak of our experience without actually altering the world of reality. Something seems to have gone amuck here. Absolutely valid yet empty.
Berkeley, of course, thought he had not only solved the difficulties of metaphysics and epistemology, as well as that of theology too, all in one stroke. Clearly, his position as a Bishop in the Anglican Church was secured. Surprisingly, however, Berkeley had even broader plans. He proposed to start a Church related college in Bermuda in order to convert the natives there to Christianity. He submitted his plan to the Queen and departed for Rhode Island in America to wait for the necessary funds to arrive. Unfortunately, they never did materialize, and Berkeley returned to Ireland where he continued his work as a Bishop. I have visited his Rhode Island home, which is still standing and well-kept as a tourist attraction.
Interestingly enough David Hume, the ultimate empiricist, skeptic, and critic of religion, took Berkeley’s line of thought one step further. He argued that we cannot even know whether our future experiences will be like the past ones, since there is no valid reason to assume that the future will be like the past. All we can know, according to Hume, is how our experience has been in the past. The world may simply go bonkers and we will be left holding the bag.

Back in 1960 I had the opportunity to hear Paul Tillich lecture and meet Reinhold Niebuhr. Tillich’s lecture was at Unitarian Church of All Souls. His topic was “Religious Existentialism”, and the place was packed. Tillich began, with a heavy German accent, in this wise: “I want to begin with a very paradoxical statement. There is no such thing as Religious Existentialism because there is ONLY religious existentialism!”. From there speaking without notes he went on to explain that because existentialism raises all the basic questions about the meaning of life and death it cannot avoid being religious in nature.
Tillich spoke with a very heavy accent and with a great deal of energy. He traced back through the thoughts of such thinkers as Nietzsche and Kierkegaard, as well as through the poetry of Rilke and the paintings of Picasso. From what I could tell he was not working from a written manuscript but was speaking extemporaneously as “the spirit moved him”. During the question-and-answer time after the lecture Tillich fielded numerous questions from the audience, filtered through the master of Ceremonies, adeptly and interestingly. He moved around the stage with great energy and verve even though he was in his eighties at the time.
I must say that I really enjoyed seeing Tillich perform – and I think he was for the large part on the money. It’s when he waxes more philosophical that I begin to have questions about his understanding of such notions as truth, meaning, and God that I find myself asking serious questions. I have written a few articles about his thought in religious journals. I think one of them actually helped me get my job at Eckerd College back in the day. In spite of all the stories one hears about his political and personal life, he was certainly a thinker to be dealt with and a delight to witness.
When I was a graduate student in philosophy at the University of Washington, I wrote my Master’s Thesis on the thought of Reinhold Niebuhr and later published a reduced version of it in a major theological journal. So, when I saw that he was going to give a lecture at the little church across the street from Union Theological Seminary I thought it would be a real honor to meet him. There were only about 50 of us gathered in the little church that morning. After the first speaker had finished, we took a short break. But when it was time to resume the Master of Ceremonies seemed to have disappeared.
So, Professor Niebuhr walked up to the podium, and without any formal introduction he said: “My name is Reinhold Niebuhr and I have been asked to speak to you about the given topic, so we might as well begin”. After his talk, the topic of which I do not recall, I waited around for a chance to meet him. Finally, as he was putting on his coat to leave, I addressed him: “Professor Niebuhr, I wrote my Master’s thesis on an aspect of your thought and I wonder if you would read it and tear it up for me.” At the very mention of the words “Tear it up” he quickly brought his finger to his lips and said: “Oh, I would never do that.” After I had blurted out my apology for misspeaking Professor Niebuhr said he would be glad to read my paper.
About a month after I had sent the paper to him Professor Niebuhr sent me a postcard on which he had typed his response to my thoughts. He very kindly said that I had got his view correctly, except for one small matter, which he then briefly explained. His signature was scrawly because he had had a stroke the previous year. Of course, I took his remarks to heart and wrote him a “Thank you” note. What impressed me the most about our brief encounter was the quickness and nature of his reply to my remark about his “tearing up” my thesis. He sort of gasped when he said “Oh, I would never do that.” I shall never forget the sincerity and quickness of his response.