Logos, as I said before, is the force that gives birth to the object. The logos-force is therefore the morphogenic principle—the ontic chemical responsible for the origination and arrangement of the object’s structure. As a being-in-process, the object is always evolving, such that its structure is best described as a growing-form. The growth-object is always-forming according to the capacity for creation of the logos. The logos, then, is a formal cause without a target form, without an end of formation. It is the compass pointing north, not the destination that determines and demands arrival.

Telos, on the other hand, is this destination. It is Aristotle’s final cause, the termination of movement. It is also, therefore, the total cessation of life—purpose become nihilism. After all—when all is finished—being would lurch to a halt, the point of absolute zero, and succumb to nonexistence. Dead and buried, dirt in the ground.

Yet, life is creative, generative of further life. It does not limit itself, but constantly flows beyond its extremities. It is only possible, then, that a limit be imposed through the violent usurpation, and transmutation into telos, of logos. But because it naturally destroys itself upon consummation (ah! la petite mort!), telos is virtual, as fleeting as the power that established it.

Based on the above, I cannot embrace humanism. As Michael writes in the comments to The Horror of Humanism, humanism can be one or both of the following: (a) “that which emphasizes the magnificence of humanity” and/or (b) “that which claims ‘there is no other universe except the human universe, the universe of human subjectivity.” As a telos-assigning species, humanity introduces death—or the collapse of being—into its morphology. This is far from magnificent, rendering humanity ineligible to fulfill the condition of humanism a. Luckily, as Dr. Ian Malcolm once said, “Life will find a way.” Were human being to reach extinction, as it is so desperately endeavoring to do, life would carry on, and the universe would hardly know the difference. Thus, humanism b also fails to obtain on my view, thereby demonstrating fidelity to anti-humanism.

To summarize, ethologists view the term “alpha wolf” as misguided, applying only to artificial packs. Organization and leadership are not the result of a violent struggle culminating in the dominance of one animal over the many others. Rather, it is achieved through the production of life. Though there may be some struggle for the right to breed with a particular wolf, it is ultimately the fact of procreation—and the resulting generation of a new family group—that places a wolf “at the head of the pack”.

This model of organization based on sourcehood, rather than dominance, is how I would like to envision my Leibnizism of forces. (After all, if Bergson has taught me anything, it’s that life is creative, not domineering.) A force, or set of forces, reproduce(s) (a)sexually. The resulting pack of forces gathers, taking shape and direction from its head—which is, for the object, the logos (not a telos).

(An aside: Crudely put, the distinction between logos and telos, for me, is somewhat analogous to that between a compass and a geographical destination. I don’t think teleology exists in nature apart from virtual teleologies created by humans, but I do think nature is fraught with logoi. More on this some other time, I suppose.)

Of most portent to me in this discussion, then, is what we mean by “thing” or “object” (don’t get mad, Martin). The object, in my vocabulary, is somewhat similar to Leibniz, for whom any number of monads are unified by a dominant monad. Thus, chairs, dry erase markers, and human animals. My position, however, rejects monads (since they are substances, after all) in favor of a Leibnizism of forces. Following Deleuze in Nietzsche & Philosophy, I take it that “the object itself is force, expression of a force.” (1.3, pg. 6) This force that possesses is not the sole force at play in the formation of the object, Deleuze goes on to say, but it is the dominant one. The thing is this constellation of actualized “powers” (more on what that might mean to me some other time), not some hypostasis/particular-as-substance.

Then again, I might just be tired.

Why dualism? Why substance at all? Essence, in itself, has no existence—only by energizing, only as act does any thing exist. And who would believe that there are only two kinds of act? Clearly, there are many more. I therefore embrace existential pluralism—the plurality of becomings—undergirded by ontological monism. The being of becoming is univocal, while the mode of existence accounts for the phenomenal differences between body, mind, and whatever else. Substance (that needless bogeyman) dualism is thus an unnecessary—not to mention unsupported—speculation.