"Let us begin with the nature of the intellect. That it is irreducible to sensation is evident from the fact that “sense is cognizant only of singulars” while “the intellect is cognizant of universals, as experience proves” (SCG II.66.3; cf. ST I.12.4). Through seeing, hearing, tasting, touching, and smelling, we can only perceive individual, particular things: this triangle, that cat, and so forth. But the intellect can grasp triangularity in general, “catness” in general, and other universals, as essences which apply to indefinitely many individuals. Moreover, “sense-cognition is limited to corporeal things,” while “the intellect knows incorporeal things, such as wisdom, truth, and the relations of things” (SCG II.66.4). That is to say, abstractions like the ones Aquinas mentions are not physical objects, but the intellect is nevertheless capable of entertaining them, while the senses can only ever perceive physical things.
Now sensation gives rise to imagination: the visual, auditory, gustatory, tactile, and olfactory perceptions we have are recalled in mental images or “phantasms” (as Aquinas calls them). Early modern empiricist philosophers like Berkeley and Hume held that intellect could be reduced to imagination. But for Aquinas, this is as impossible as reducing intellect to sensation, for like the senses, “imagination has to do with bodily and singular things only,” while “the intellect … grasps objects universal and incorporeal” (SCG II.67.3). And it is notoriously difficult to defend the empiricists against this objection. Any mental image is always going to be particular and individual in some respect, in a way that the concepts grasped by the intellect are not. For example, the mental image you form of a triangle is necessarily going to be of an equilateral, isosceles, or scalene triangle specifically; but the concept of a triangle that your intellect grasps is one that applies to all of these, precisely because it abstracts away from these properties. Hence your concept of a triangle cannot be identified with a mental image. Mental images are also often vague and indistinct in a way that concepts are not. To repeat an earlier example, you can form no clear mental image of a chiliagon – a 1,000-sided figure – certainly not one that is distinct from your mental image of a 997-sided figure, or for that matter from your mental image of a circle. Still, the intellect can easily distinguish the concept of a chiliagon from the concept of a 997-sided figure and the concept of a circle. There are certain things we can form no mental images of – abstractions like law, love, and economics, the absence of a thing, and so forth – but the intellect can easily form concepts of them. And so on. Thus, as Aquinas argues, the intellect is as irreducible to the imagination as it is to sensation.
At the same time, “the operation of the intellect has its origin in the senses” (ST I.78.4), and “in the present state of life in which the soul is united to a passible body, it is impossible for our intellect to
understand anything actually, except by turning to the phantasms” (ST I.84.7). That is to say, though the intellect is distinct from sensation and imagination, it depends upon them for its raw materials. In explaining what this involves, Aquinas, following Aristotle, draws a distinction between agent intellect (or “active intellect”) and possible intellect (or “passive intellect”). Sensation involves perceptions of individual things, which give rise to the images or phantasms of the imagination and memory. The visual perception you have of a cat, for example, is later recalled in the mental image you have of what the cat looked like, and your imagination is also able to produce images of cats you have never seen by rearranging the elements of your mental images of things you have seen. But all such images or phantasms are, as we have said, particular or individual, just as the original perceptions and the things perceived were; and as such they are not “intelligible,” that is to say, they are not the sort of thing the intellect can grasp. But “the active intellect … causes the phantasms received from the senses to be actually intelligible, by a process of abstraction” (ST I.84.6). In other words, it strips away all particularizing or individualizing features of a phantasm so as to produce a truly universal concept or “intelligible species,” leaving you (for instance) with the idea not just of this or that particular cat, but of “catness” in general, of that which is common to all cats. The abstract concept is then stored in the possible intellect (ST I.85.1). This account of the origin of our concepts is intended by Aristotle and Aquinas to serve as a middle position between two erroneous extremes: the materialism of ancient thinkers like Democritus, which in its overemphasis on the sensory origin of our concepts tended to identify intellect with sensation; and the hyper-intellectualism of Plato, who, though he correctly distinguished the intellect from the senses, tended too radically to divorce the former from the latter, and to cut off the intellect from the material world altogether (ST I.84.6).