ABSTRACT: This is a short companion piece to my ‘Found in Translation – Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics III.5 1113b7-8 and its Reception’ in which I examine in close textual analysis the philosophical question whether these two lines from the Nicomachean Ethics provide any evidence that Aristotle discussed free choice – as is not infrequently assumed. The result is that they do not, and that the claim that they do tends to be based on a mistranslation of the Greek. (There (...) is some inevitable overlap with Part 1 of the 'Found in Translation' paper.). (shrink)

The physicist defines anger in terms of heart, blood, and heat; the dialectician says it is the desire to inflict pain in retaliation. Both give fairly sure signs for its recognition; but neither can show why these signs must go together and in what they can cohere. Aristotelian physics is presumably a way to avoid such a split, and whatever defects his account of perception or intellection suffers from cannot be traced to it. Phantasia, however, seems to be dialectically distinguished (...) from other faculties of soul and physically defined as a kind of motion; and even if Aristotle could say at what speed it moves, we do not discern in such a definition the ground for its being the link between perception and intellection. The soul is the source of both motion and awareness; and since it cannot be the efficient cause of motion without destroying the possibility of awareness, something in its cognitive capacity must be able to translate the nonmotivating acts of perception or of intellection into causes of motion. That something seems to be again phantasia, which thus comes to light as the soul’s double bond, linking the aesthetic with the noetic and awareness with motion. Phantasia is as inseparable from desire as it is from thought. It is the closest Aristotle comes to acknowledging that self-moving motion is soul. (shrink)

ABSTRACT: This paper is distinctly odd. It demonstrates what happens when an analytical philosopher and historian of philosophy tries their hand at the topic of reception. For a novice to this genre, it seemed advisable to start small. Rather than researching the reception of an author, book, chapter, section or paragraph, the focus of the paper is on one sentence: Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics 3.5, 1113b7-8. This sentence has markedly shaped scholarly and general opinion alike with regard to Aristotle’s (...) theory of free will. In addition, it has taken on a curious life of its own. Part one of the paper examines the text itself. Part two explores its reception from antiquity to the present day, including present-day popular culture, later ancient, Byzantine, Arabic, Latin Medieval, Renaissance, Victorian and contemporary scholarship. There are some surprises on the way. (The paper also serves as an introduction to the reception of the Nicomachean Ethics from its beginnings to the present.). (shrink)

Scholars have often seen Parmenides as entirely opposed to earlier materialistic philosophy. In this paper I argue that what is more striking in Aristotle’s Metaphysics Book I is the degree of continuity that he sees between Parmenides and the material monists. I explore this coupling of Parmenides with the material monists to understand better what he takes to be distinctive and problematic with Parmenides’ monism.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:AQUINAS AS A COMMENTATOR ON DE ANIMA 3.5 JAMES T. H. MARTIN St. John's University Jamaica, New York DOES ST. THOMAS AQUINAS in his commentary on De Anima 3.5 provide an acceptable gloss on Aristotle 's cryptic remarks about active mind? That is, can one accept.that what Aquinas says about active mind is what Aristotle meant but for some reason did not say? Many modern commentators, among (...) them Franz Brentano, Marcel de Corte, Paul Siwek, and Francisco Peccorino, appear to think so and present an interpretation of active mind which agrees substantially with what Aquinas says in his Sententia Libri De Anima (Sent.).1 i Senteiitia Libri De Anima, opera omnia iussu Leonis XIII P.M. edita (Paris: Vrin, for the Leonine Commission, 1984). While he does criticize St. Thomas Aquinas for some statements which " seem to betray a certain lack of clarity concerning the nature of active intellect,'' Franz Brentano awards the first place among earlier commentators on Aristotle's doctrine of active mind to Aquinas : " Indeed, I am not sure whether I should not say that he correctly grasped Aristotle's entire doctrine" (The Psychology of Aristotle: In Particular His Doctrine of Active Intellect, ed. and trans. Rolf George [Berkeley: University of California Press, 1977], p. 155). De Corte holds that the originality of his study consists entirely in combining " all the technical means refined by modern criticism and which the thirteenth century did not have at its disposition " with the " Thomist interpretation of the Aristotelian theory of intelligence," an interpretation with which de Corte agrees, and which he presents as a necessary correction of the errors of modern commentators, who are "more or less instilled with an unconscious Averroism which radically vitiates their power of understanding" (La doctrine de l'intelligence chez Aristote [Paris: Vrin, 1934], p. 2). Siwek notes that "many of St. Thomas's explanations of Aristotelian psychology are altogether consonant with our own explanations,'' and warns his readers against undervaluing Aquinas's views (Aristotelis Tractatus de Anima Graece et Latine, editit, versione latina auxit, commentario illustravit [Rome: Desclee & C.i, 1965], p. 30). Peccorini com621 622 JAMES T. H. MARTIN Aristotle's text is concerned with two minds, "a mind which is such as matter by becoming all things, and another which is such as an active principle by making all things" (430a14-15). What are these minds, and what do they do? The central elements of Aquinas's exegesis of De Anima 3.5 consist in his answers to these questions. He holds that these two minds are " parts or potencies of the soul " (Sent. 3.4. 126). The role of passive mind, the "mind which is such as matter," is to apprehend the intelligible object (Sent. 3.4. 101-2), while that of active mind, the mind " which is such as an active principle by making all things," is to abstract the intelligibles (Sent. 3.4. 103-4), a role which he explains in this way: Active mind makes those things intelligible in act which previously were intelligible in potency. It does this by abstracting them from matter, for in this way they are intelligible in act, as has been said. Aristotle was led to posit an active mind to exclude the opinion of Plato, who held that the natures of sensible things are separated from matter and actually intelligible. Thus for Plato it was not necessary to posit an active mind. But because Aristotle holds that the natures of sensible things are in matter and not actually intelligible, it was necessary that he posit a certain intellect to abstract them from matter and so make them actually intelligible. (Sent. 3.4 50-63) Active mind on Aquinas's reading makes the potentially intelligible forms of sensible things actually intelligible, and in this way these sensible things become objects of thought. If one accepts this role for active mind, one is forced to accept as well, I think, that active mind is part of the soul rather than something separate from the knowing human subject. Aquinas argues this point at length in his commentary on De Anima 3.5. If thinking, the action of the passive mind, is in fact... (shrink)

Book 5 stands between the first four books of the Physics and Books 6, 7, and 8, which are traditionally called the treatise On motion. Simplicius, however, attaches it to the first four books on the principles of physical reality, describing it as a supplement to Book 3. David Ross, in his monumental Aristotle’s Physics prefers to consider Books 5, 6, and 8 a coherent group of pragmateiai on motion, while 7 is a comparatively isolated book, a view shared (...) by Porphyry. The subject of Book 5 is the nature of change and such related concepts as “contiguous,” “continuous,” and so forth. (shrink)

I argue that Metaphysics H.6 is not an isolated chapter but the conclusion of an argument begun in H.3. This view will provide further and better arguments for the following view about long-standing interpretative debates: first, Aristotle provides a substantive account of the unity of the composite substance (although he also briefly addresses the unity of the form); second, neither Aristotle’s conception of matter nor his account of form changes between H.1–5 and H.6; and third, H does not (...) rely on and is not completed by book Θ in any significant way. (shrink)

In Nicomachean Ethics III.5, Aristotle argues that virtue and vice are “up to us and voluntary.” Readers have long struggled to make sense of Aristotle’s arguments in this chapter and to explain how they cohere with the rest of his ethical project. Among the most influential lines of complaint is that the argument of III.5 appears to contradict his emphasis elsewhere on the power of upbringing to shape character, beginning in childhood. Scholars have developed two main interpretive approaches (...) to III.5, which I label “libertarian” and “compatibilist.” I argue that neither approach succeeds in removing the appearance of contradiction. I develop an alternative interpretation that reveals the coherence of Aristotle’s commitments, showing that for him the voluntariness of character and the power of upbringing are in reality two sides of the same philosophical coin. Both are grounded in his fundamental idea that virtue and vice are acquired by practice. (shrink)

In this paper I offer a close reading of Aristotle’s argument in the Nicomachean Ethics 3.5.1114a31–b25 and try to show that despite considerable interpretive difficulties, some clear structure can nevertheless be discerned. While Aristotle’s main concern in this passage is to refute the so-called asymmetry thesis – the thesis that virtue is voluntary, but vice is not – there is much more in it than just a dialectical encounter. Aristotle wants to respond to a more general objection, (...) which has as its target the voluntariness of both virtue and vice, and which is provoked by some of his ideas in EN 3.4 and 3.5. Further, I will try to show why Aristotle thinks that we are only co-causes of our dispositions. In my opinion, his reasons have nothing to do with compatibilist or incompatibilist considerations as they are commonly understood in modern philosophy. In particular, he does not want to argue that nature is aitios of our dispositions just as ourselves are. Rather, we are co-causes of our dispositions because we are causal origins of actions without which a certain good, which is the final cause of our actions and of our dispositions, cannot be achieved. Finally, I will try to show that Aristotle’s discussion implies that there is no more to the responsibility for dispositions than there is to the responsibility for actions. (shrink)

In "De anima" 3.5, Aristotle argues for the existence of a second intellect, the so-called "Agent Intellect." The logical structure of his argument turns on a distinction between different types of soul, rather than different faculties within a given soul; and the attributes he assigns to the second species make it clear that his concern here -- as at the climax of his other great works, such as the "Metaphysics," the "Nicomachean" and the "Eudemian Ethics" -- is the difference (...) between the human and the divine. If this is right, we needn't go on a wild goose chase trying to invent a role for the so-called Agent Intellect to play. God moves our intellects as he moves the heavenly spheres, "as a beloved": he constitutes the complete actualization towards which all of our intellectual striving is directed. Aristotle regards such final causation as an efficient cause, but not in a way that would make it part of what we would call the causal processes or mechanisms of human psychology. But, he would insist, it is essential for appreciating who we are and what our place is in the world. (shrink)

In Posterior Analytics 1.3, Aristotle advances three arguments against circular proof. The third argument relies on his discussion of circular proof in Prior Analytics 2.5. This is problematic because the two chapters seem to deal with two rather disparate conceptions of circular proof. In Posterior Analytics 1.3, Aristotle gives a purely propositional account of circular proof, whereas in Prior Analytics 2.5 he gives a more complex, syllogistic account. My aim is to show that these problems can be solved, (...) and that Aristotle’s third argument in 1.3 is successful. I argue that both chapters are concerned with the same conception of circular proof, namely the propositional one. Contrary to what is often thought, the syllogistic conception provides an adequate analysis of the internal deductive structure of the propositional one. Aristotle achieves this by employing a kind of multiple-conclusion logic. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Aristotle on the Sources of the Ethical Life by Sylvia BerrymanElizabeth C. Shaw and Staff*BERRYMAN, Sylvia. Aristotle on the Sources of the Ethical Life. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2019. vii + 220 pp. Cloth, $70.00—Berryman’s goals in Aristotle on the Sources of the Ethical Life are threefold: to establish that Aristotle practiced what contemporary philosophers call metaethics; to refute the idea that Aristotle (...) justified those ethics by recourse to human nature, understood as an “external point” for “establishing substantial ethical truths from a value-neutral perspective”; and to demonstrate that, for Aristotle, the source and justification for ethical demands is human practical reason.Locating the source of normativity in practical reason does not mean that there are no “standards of truth other than human beings as a species.” Positioning Aristotle against both “Archimedean” naturalisms as well as relativisms and subjectivisms, Berryman sees Aristotle’s appeals to nature as delimiting “the kinds of normative positions that could guide practical reason,” and practical reason as responsive to biological constraints. Still, nature is no fulcrum. It does not mandate the contents of the life we should live. All of this together makes Berryman’s Aristotle a “constitutive constructivist,” which is to say, a nonskeptical, cognitivist nonfoundationalist.Chapter 1’s “Introduction” sets the stage for the book’s metaethical project. Chapters 2 and 3 argue against two versions of the claim that “Aristotle was not reflective on the sources and justifications for his ethical views.” Chapter 2 places “Aristotle in the Ethics Wars” of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries, challenging the historicist view that “the kind of metaethical reflection about the sources of normativity” that preoccupies modern philosophy in response to “‘disenchantment’ of the modern world picture” would not have been available to Aristotle. Chapter 3, “Nature and the Sources of Normativity,” positions itself against scholars who maintain that Aristotle was complacent about the values of his own society and/or “too philosophically naïve to even reflect on the sources and justifications of ethical claims.” Inhabiting Aristotle’s social and intellectual milieu, it shows how the epistemological questions, commitments to materialist-scientific worldviews, as well as challenges to divine authority posed by fifth-century sophists, Plato, and fourth-century [End Page 381] hedonists meant that “a philosopher in Aristotle’s position could hardly avoid being reflective on questions of the status of ethics.”After establishing in chapter 3 that Aristotle could have grounded ethical claims in his natural philosophy, chapters 4 through 6 make the case that he did not. Exploring the philosophical work done by Aristotle’s appeals to nature, chapter 4, “Is Aristotle an Archimedean Naturalist?”, focuses on the apparent directionality of human development as well as references to “natural justice” and “natural virtue” in Aristotle’s ethical writings, while chapter 5, “Naturalism in Aristotle’s Politics,” scrutinizes the “naturalness of the polis” and “natural slavery” in Politics 1. Finding “only very minimal appeal to human nature” in the ethical treatises, Berryman sees Aristotle’s recourse to nature in Politics 1 as “the main anomaly” for which her refutation of Archimedean naturalism must account. Based on internal evidence in the Politics and comparison with Aristotle’s biological writings, Berryman concludes that Aristotle wrote the Politics before he “developed his more detailed biological theories.” Rather than evidence of naturalism, Aristotle’s appeals to nature in Politics 1, Berryman argues, are an early reflection of the “nomos-phusis distinction found in sophistic controversies” and a “kind of rhetorical move” based on thorough “prejudice and not reasoned inference.” Concluding “The Case Against a Naturalist Reading,” chapter 6 sets the stage for Berryman’s resourcing of Aristotle’s metaethics away from nature by exploring the inadequacies of the instrumental and theoretical rule-guiding reasoning implicit in naturalist accounts of Aristotelian practical reason.Chapters 7 and 8 offer the book’s positive account. After elaborating Aristotle’s rejection of “metaphysical abstractions” as action-guiding, chapter 7, “Aristotle’s Metaethics,” recovers from the Eudemian Ethics human agency as the source of normativity in Aristotle. Action “carries with it an implicit commitment to the norms of practical reasoning,” and “Aristotle’s insight,” Berryman writes, “is the metaethical recognition that the practical... (shrink)

Aristotle’s Doctrine of the Mean is often interpreted as a map of how character virtues are constituted. Taken in this way, critics argue that the Doctrine fails to describe accurately the specific virtues analyzed in books 3 to 5 of the Nicomachean Ethics. I argue that Aristotle does not offer the Doctrine as a map, but rather as a legend in terms of which any explication of a character virtue should be given. This interpretation resolves a number of (...) interpretative problems in the Ethics and sheds light on the way the Doctrine does, and does not, guide action. (shrink)

I lay out and examine two sharply conflicting interpretations of Aristotle's claims about nous in the De Anima (DA). On the human separability approach, Aristotle is taken to have identified reasons for thinking that the intellect can, in some way, exist on its own. On the naturalist approach, the soul, including intellectual soul, is inseparable from the body of which it is the form. I discuss how proponents of each approach deal with the key texts from the DA, (...) focusing on four of the most important and interesting topics in this area. Two of these topics concern the activity of understanding (noêsis): first, what does Aristotle mean when he claims that the intellect cannot have a bodily organ and, secondly, what role does Aristotle think phantasmata (“images” or “representations”) play in understanding something? Two of the topics concern DA 3.5, one of the most difficult passages in Aristotle's corpus: first, what is the nature and role of the productive intellect (nous poiêtikos) introduced there and, secondly, what are this chapter's implications for the question of whether the intellect or intellectual soul can exist apart from the body? I conclude by identifying areas where further research is necessary. (shrink)

This article analyzes the status of passive potentiality of prime matter and sensible objects in Plotinus' Enneads. In particular, it will focus on Enneads II 5 [25] and confront it with other treatises, specifically Enneads III 6 [26]; II 6 [17]; VI 2 [43] and VI 3 [44]. It aims at offering a new interpretation of treatise 25 and at proposing a reconstruction of Plotinus' notion of change in the sensible realm that illustrates both his critique of Aristotle's notion (...) of substantial change and his acceptance of Aristotle's view of qualitative change. (shrink)

Of all the criticisms that Aristotle gives of his predecessors’ theories of soul in De anima I.3–5, none seems more unmotivated than the ones directed against the world soul of Plato’s Timaeus. Against the current scholarly consensus, I claim that the status of Aristotle’s criticisms is philosophical rather than eristical, and that they provide important philosophical reasons, independent of Phys. VIII.10 and Metaph. Λ.6, for believing that νοῦς is without spatial extension, and that its thinking is not a (...) physical motion. (shrink)

While Aristotle’s explicit focus in Metaphysics Theta 1-5 is dunamis in the sense of the ‘capability’ a thing has to originate change in something else or in itself qua other, practically all translators, when they arrive at chapter four, switch to ‘possible’ and ‘impossible’ as translations of dunaton and adunaton. Such a switch is neither defensible nor necessary and the relevance of Theta 4 is understood only without it.

This paper follows up on two previous contributions in Aristotelica (3 and 5) that focused on the early transmission of Phys. 250b13 as a case study. Here, the discussion broadens to general questions about the scribal hands behind Aristotle’s earliest manuscripts J (ms. Vindobonensis Phil. gr. 100) and E (ms. Parisinus gr. 1853), their roles in textual history, and their connections to the earliest reconstructable archetype. Current scholarship holds that while the sources of J and E overlap for the (...) Metaphysics (labeled Π by Jaeger’s 1957 critical apparatus), they diverge entirely for the other works held by both codices, i.e. Physics, De caelo, De generatione et corruptione, Meteorology. How can this be explained? A major, recent development is Ronconi’s (2012) identification of two distinct tenth-century volumes later combined into ms. E. Each has a main early scribe at work. Thereafter, no attempt has been made to differentiate their approaches to the text. In Aristotelica 5, E’s two early scribes are distinguished and labeled, the one, EMet (responsible for the Metaphysics) the other, EPhys (responsible for the Corpus Physicum). The two exhibit differing approaches. Through closer analysis of their methodologies, it is possible to investigate and eventually to detect what I call a “β agenda” in EPhys’s Corpus Physicum, by analogy with the socalled β manuscripts of the Metaphysics. (shrink)

I. The framework. 1, Aristotle's project and methods. 2, The perceptual capacity of the soul. 3, The sensory apparatus. 4, The common sense and the related capacities -- II. The terminology. 1, Overlooked occurrences of the phrase 'common sense'. 2, De anima III.1 425a27. 3, De partibus animalium IV.10 686a31. 4, De memoria et reminiscentia 1 450a10. 5, De anima III.7 431b5. 6, Conclusions on the terminology -- III. Functions of the common sense. 1, Simultaneous perception and cross-modal binding. (...) 2, Perceptual discrimination. 3, Waking, sleep, and control of the senses. 4, Perceiving that what we see and hear, and monitoring of the senses. 5, Other roles of the common sense -- Conclusion. (shrink)

Multi-volume work with 4 of the 5 volumes published. -/- -- 1. Medieval Authors (in two books) -- 2. Renaissance authors -- 3. Index initorum-index finium -- 5. Bibliography of secondary literature.

We may sum up the five roles which human beings might play in the existence of the polis in the following way: (1) Human nature plays the role of the inner principle of change which explains the type of human relation a polis takes (the polis as a type); (2) General patterns of human behaviours, together with patterns of societal conditions, play the role of material conditions which explain the variety of forms of polis; (3) Statesmen or politicians play the (...) role of political craftsmen which explains the particular form of the natural type a polis actually takes; (4) Human effort plays the role of one of the external conditions which explains the occurrence of a polis; (5) Individual human persons or groups play the role of an artificer which is responsible for and wholly explains the type of the human relation a polis takes. What I have argued in this paper is, firstly, that (1) is compatible with (2), (3) and (4), but not with (5), and secondly, that Aristotle affirms (1), (2), (3) and (4), but denies (5). Aristotle's theory of the naturalness of the polis is, therefore, not the blundered doctrine its critics suppose it to be. (shrink)

Minimally, Aristotle’s account of the ‘city’ is isomorphic with his metaphysical doctrine of substance and teleological conception of nature. Maximally, his political theory depends on it. Part I explains what this means. Part II discusses the significant consequences the notion of a ‘substantial city’ has for Aristotle’s political theory. Part III suggests how this notion can be deployed to address the notorious question of whether the Politics forms a unified whole, or whether Books 4, 5 and 6 — (...) the ‘realist’ or empirical books—simply cannot be reconciled with Books 1, 2, 3, 7 and 8, the more ‘idealist’ or even ‘Platonist’ side of the work. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Aristotle’s Rhetoric: An Art of CharacterJohn T. KirbyEugene Garver. Aristotle’s Rhetoric: An Art of Character. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1995. xii + 344 pp. Cloth, $53.95; paper, $18.95.The history of Aristotle’s Rhetoric has been one of cyclical obscurity and rediscovery. Arguably the single greatest work of rhetorical theory ever penned, in any time or culture, its popularity and influence seem to (...) wax and wane repeatedly. Why this should be is not clear, but it is undeniable that even when it has not disappeared completely, its stock (so to speak) among theorists and practitioners of discourse has fluctuated.We are in a bull market for rhetorical studies generally, and these days Aristotle’s work (despite some dissenters who demonize him as the epitome of an oppressive ideology) is pretty much blue-chip. Even so, it is not every day that one encounters a book devoted entirely to the Rhetoric, and even less frequently is that book self-consciously written “philosophically.” In fact, in this century, the only other title in English that could be said to fit this description is Father William Grimaldi’s Studies in the Philosophy of Aristotle’s Rhetoric (Wiesbaden 1972), a book concerned with very different kinds of issues, for example, the unity (or otherwise) of the treatise overall, and its methodological relationship to the rest of the Aristotelian corpus. In a sense, then, Garver is quite justified in his claim that this is the first book-length treatment of Aristotle’s Rhetoric in this century (3). Moreover, it is a philosophical treatment in the sense that it endeavors to orient the Rhetoric (as its subtitle suggests) to issues of ethics, and because it considers the treatise as a work of political theory. Garver proposes that to call Aristotle’s treatise philosophical “is to insist, first of all, that the Rhetoric be read as a piece of philosophic inquiry, and judged by philosophic standards” (3, emphasis added): it is this aspect above all that distinguishes Garver’s approach from those, say, of the teacher of composition, who will be interested most in how the Rhetoric can best be used to teach principles of effective writing; of the historian of rhetoric, who will be interested in the vicissitudes of the Aristotelian system vis-à-vis those of competing schemata (such as, e.g., stasis theory); or of the classical philologist, into whose especial bailiwick fall such problems as those of Quellenforschung and Textgeschichte. Hence Garver’s explicit inattention to historicism in this work (“It contains virtually no examination [End Page 651] of the Rhetoric’s historical context,” 7). Which is not to say that Garver is ignorant of, or uninterested in, history: on the contrary, he reminds us that “The good practical use of reason has a history. The Greek word for the power of practical thinking is phronêsis; its Latin translation was prudentia” (5). And those who are familiar with Garver’s earlier work will know that he is the author of Machiavelli and the History of Prudence (Madison 1987). It is evident, then, that the study under review here is indeed (in a larger sense) a work of historical contextualization: another page in the history of phronêsis, as Aristotle used that term.Aristotle’s Rhetoric: An Art of Character is one of the most thoughtful studies of that brilliant and difficult treatise to emerge in a long time. Garver takes Aristotle seriously, posing pungent questions and answering them in original and interesting ways. His style is clean and occasionally arresting (“To us, Aristotle might look naive. To Aristotle, we would look not sophisticated but unnatural,” 10). And, in the course of the book, there emerges a portrait of the Rhetoric that quite confirms its philosophic nature—not, however, as a work of disembodied theôria, but one “designed... to present legislators with an understanding of the civic art of rhetoric” (245). While Garver feels that the treatise ‘is not very useful to practitioners of the art’ (245), Aristotle’s project is also described as a ‘civic, practical art of rhetoric’ (18). This brief statement requires a good deal of unpacking, because, on... (shrink)

Available from UMI in association with The British Library. Requires signed TDF. ; Aristotle endorses a very striking doctrine connecting necessity with what seems to be a non-modal notion--that of 'being or happening always'. He also forges a connection between the idea of 'happening by chance' and 'happening neither always nor for the most part'. These two connections form the subject of this essay. My guiding aim is to provide an account of what the 'always/necessary' doctrine involves and of (...) why Aristotle might have held it. Reflection on the nature of the connection between 'by chance' and 'neither always nor for the most part' throws light on what Aristotle means by 'happening always', and, in consequence, on the nature of the link between 'always' and 'necessary'; it also suggests that the basis of this link is to be found in Aristotle 's general conception of the natural world as the object of explanation and knowledge. ;The primary texts upon which discussion of these connections must focus are De Caelo I. 12 and the analysis of chance in Physics II. 4-6. I discuss these two texts in turn, after an opening chapter which surveys the evidence for Aristotle 's acceptance of the 'always/necessary' doctrine and considers the nature of the restrictions which he places on it. Chapter 2 comprises a translation of and commentary on Cael. I. 12, together with a translation and discussion of its companion chapter, I. 10. In Chapter 3, I examine the nature of Aristotle 's argument in I. 12, and criticise various interpretations which see it as evidence that Aristotle 's 'always/necessary' doctrine rests on a distinctive conception of possibility. The translation of and commentary on Phys. II. 4-6 are followed in Chapter 5 by a discussion of issues relating to the association of chance with 'neither always nor for the most part'. The final chapter returns to the question of the connection between 'always' and 'of necessity'. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Aristotle on Pictures of Ignoble AnimalsDavid Socher (bio)The Poetics is a widely read, accessible classic. I think it has a minor flaw of some interest. In a well-known passage early in the Poetics, Aristotle is in error about pictures, or so I shall argue. He writes:And it is natural for all to delight in works of imitation. The truth of this second point is shown by experience: (...) though the objects themselves may be painful to see, we delight to view the most realistic representations of them in art, the forms for example of the lowest animals and of dead bodies. The explanation is to be found in a further fact: to be learning something is the greatest of pleasures not only to the philosopher but also to the rest of mankind, however small their capacity for it; the reason for the delight in seeing the picture is that one is at the same time learning — gathering the meaning of things, e.g. that the man there is so-and-so; for if one has not seen the thing before, one's pleasure will not be in the picture as an imitation of itbutwill be due to the execution or colouring or some similar cause.1I set out Aristotle's position as follows:1. It is natural to delight in imitation.2. In spite of it being unpleasant to look at a low animal, we delight in looking at an imitation of one — a picture.3. The pleasure in appreciating a picture comes from gathering the meaning, that is, recognizing the subject.4. Therefore if I look at a portrait of someone I don't know, I can't enjoy the imitation as such, because I don't recognize the person.5. And therefore if I do take pleasure in such a picture, it is not pleasure in the imitation as such but perhaps in the color, line, form, etc.My dispute is with points 4 and 5. Points 1 through 3 take for granted something that points 4 and 5 overlook and, in effect, deny: that is, that imitation comes in two levels: imitation of a kind and imitation of an individual. Aristotle illicitly slips from the first level to the second. The beginning of the [End Page 27] passage concerns imitations of, and fidelity to, a kind; the end concerns imitations of, and fidelity to, an individual.Before pursuing this complaint, a general remark: Aristotle's slip is a small one, incidental to his point. He speaks to the old paradox that "we enjoy the distress of tragedy."2 In bringing up pictures, he does not intend to dwell on them but is merely demonstrating the general principle that the very thing we find painful in the flesh can be enjoyed in make-believe.3 Why then, if the error is so small, discuss it at all? Because its examination reveals a significant distinction between types of picture, and because a minor slip in a major and influential classic is worth pointing out on that count alone.Let us look at the opening subject: pictures of ignoble animals — of snakes and snails and puppy dog tails. Are these portraits of individuals, like a portrait of the family dog or of the great racehorse Seabiscuit? No. The scientific spirit in us enjoys the most realistic representations of a fly, spider, and slug as an accurate anatomical rendering of a specimen sample, which is not a particular actual individual. It is the fidelity to its kind that we admire here (especially in times before photography). Examine, for example, the goal and the achievement of John Audubon. In his quest for accuracy, Audubon killed a dozen or so birds for each painting so as to always have a fresh model. Would anyone be so foolish as to ask Audubon if such a painting were a portrait of the fifth or of the sixth now-dead red-breasted robin? No, he preserves and presents visual knowledge of kinds, of the looks of kinds of thing.At the close of the passage, Aristotle discusses recognizing an acquaintance in a portrait. Had I not known him, I could only take... (shrink)

Plato and Aristotle each present traditional forms of religious practice (e.g., sacrifice, choral performance, prayer, and temple cult) as activities that are worth performing. Because these philosophers advocated such unconventional theological views, their endorsement of conventional religious practice strikes some readers as surprising. This dissertation examines why Plato and Aristotle defended traditional religious practice. Specifically, it investigates their views on its efficacy (i.e., what benefits religious practice produces and how it is thought to produce them). Chapters 1-2 provide (...) the intellectual background necessary to appreciate Plato and Aristotle’s individual contributions. Chapter 1 outlines a view of efficacy that was common in the archaic period (the “Traditional View”). It shows that the literature from that period consistently promoted the idea that, through the performance of traditional religious practice, humans can influence the gods to effect change in all spheres of life: in the cosmos, the city, and the individual psyche. Chapter 2 shows that this view was destabilized in the dawn of the classical period, in the fifth century BCE. The pre-Socratic philosophers and Sophists of this period introduced several theological innovations that forced their proponents to reevaluate the traditional story about what traditional Greek religious practices accomplished and how they accomplished it. Plato both expands and narrows the understanding of efficacy that is set forth in the archaic age. He argues that, for a token religious practice to be successful, it must be performed according to certain ethical standards. Chapter 3 outlines Plato’s ethical criteria and argues that, while the philosopher, like proponents of the Traditional View, denies the efficacy of “illegitimate” performances that contravene these standards, he believes that religious practice can influence all realms of human life theogenically through the instrumentality of the gods. It also shows that Plato expands the modes of efficacy by introducing the possibility that religious practices produce benefits anthropogenically, without the assistance of the gods. Chapters 4-5 each detail a specific religious practice and articulate how Plato thought they could be executed according to his standards. Chapter 4 investigates Plato’s identification of choral performance and sacrifice as forms of play in the Laws, arguing that he imagined them to function as games do elsewhere in that work, when pursued in accordance with the laws and reason, and when performed for pleasure’s sake. Chapter 5 evaluates the role of petitionary prayer in Plato’s dialogues and shows that the philosopher valued the practice for its ability to facilitate intellectual achievement and integrated petitionary prayer into his psychology. Chapters 6-7 focus on Aristotle’s treatment of efficacy. Chapter 6 examines Aristotle’s Metaphysics Λ and argues that, in contrast to Plato, Aristotle discards the Traditional View entirely by denying the ability of religious practices to move the gods to action or to effect change in the cosmos. It reconciles passages from the Nicomachean Ethics and Politics, which seem prima facie to endorse conventional attitudes towards the gods, with the philosopher’s metaphysical views, which appear to contradict them. Chapter 7 examines the social and psychological benefits of religious practice in Aristotle’s Politics, where the philosopher claims that the institution of religion forms a necessary part of the city. It demonstrates that, for Aristotle, religious practice provides residents with rest and leisure, obligates them to observe laws, and promotes the development of friendship between residents. (shrink)

Myles Burnyeat has argued that in De Anima II.5 Aristotle marks out a refined kind of alteration which is to be distinguished from ordinary alteration, change of quality as defined in Physics III.1-3. Aristotle's aim, he says, is to make it clear that perception is an alteration of this refined sort and not an ordinary alteration. Thus, it both supports his own interpretation of Aristotle's view of perception, and refutes the Sorabji interpretation according to which perception is (...) a composite of form and matter where the matter is a material alteration in the body. I argue that Burnyeat's interpretation of II.5 should be rejected for a number of reasons, and offer a new interpretation of the distinctions drawn in the chapter, and the relations between them. I conclude that the chapter provides no evidence against the Sorabji view or for Burnyeat's view. Aristotle's assertion that perception is a refined kind of alteration means that it is the kind of alteration that preserves and is good for the subject of that alteration. There is no inconsistency in the thought that perception is a refined alteration of this sort while it, or its matter, is an ordinary alteration. (shrink)

Recent studies of the low abundant signaling lipid, phosphatidylinositol 3,5‐bisphosphate (PI(3,5)P2), reveal an intriguingly diverse list of downstream pathways, the intertwined relationship between PI(3,5)P2 and PI5P, as well as links to neurodegenerative diseases. Derived from the structural lipid phosphatidylinositol, PI(3,5)P2 is dynamically generated on multiple cellular compartments where interactions with an increasing list of effectors regulate many cellular pathways. A complex of proteins that includes Fab1/PIKfyve, Vac14, and Fig4/Sac3 mediates the biosynthesis of PI(3,5)P2, and mutations that disrupt complex function and/or (...) formation cause profound consequences in cells. Surprisingly, mutations in this pathway are linked with neurological diseases, including Charcot‐Marie‐Tooth syndrome and amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. Future studies of PI(3,5)P2 and PI5P are likely to expand the roles of these lipids in regulation of cellular functions, as well as provide new approaches for treatment of some neurological diseases. (shrink)

This article is devoted to the sense of smell in Aristotle’s psychology. Aristotle defines all senses by their proper objects. In the case of sense of smell, this is difficult to do, because the human sense of smell is poorly developed. In addition, the odor itself is problematic, ac­cording to Aristotle, it appears only under certain conditions. The purpose of this work was to consider the main aspects of Aristotle’s theory of the sense of smell. In (...) this article, spe­cial attention will be paid to the following topics. Firstly, I considered the nature of odor: 1) why Aristotle defines odors and flavors as “almost the same affection”; 2) why odor should be considered as ἔγχυμον ξηρόν, and not as ἔγχυμον ὑγρόν; 3) what is the property of water and air, which plays the crucial role in the appearance of odors. Secondly, the ques­tion of the structure of the olfactory organ. Thirdly, the question of types of odors. And fourthly, the question of the place of the sense of smell among the other senses. It is shown that: 1) although Aristotle gives similar definitions of odors and flavors, he does not re­duce them to one another; 2) the medium plays the crucial role in distinguishing them; 3) the analogy between kinds of flavors and kinds of odors is not based on mathematical proportion of components; 4) the two types of odors named by Aristotle in De Sensu cannot have the same physical nature; 5) many difficulties concerning the sense of smell are con­nected with the specific role that it plays among other senses. (shrink)

From the Preface: "The majority of the papers contained in this volume was delivered in the fall of 1978 at The Catholic University of America as part of the Machette series of lectures on Aristotle. Although collections of essays on Aristotle are hardly lacking at present, this volume presents new studies which, it is hoped, give some idea of the variety of philosophical perspectives in which Aristotle has held and continues to hold great interest and of the (...) scholarly analysis needed in order to reach a better understanding of a difficult author." • CONTENTS: 1. Categories in Aristotle, Michael Frede • 2. Definitions in Aristotle's Posterior Analytics, Alfonso Gomez-Lobo • 3. Aristotle and Galileo: The Uses of ΥΠΟΘΕΣΙΣ (suppositio) in Scientific Reasoning, William A. Wallace • 4. Aristotle and the History of Greek Scepticism, A. A Long • 5. Aristotle's Metaphysics Viewed by the Ancient Greek Commentators, Gérard Verbeke • 6. ΕΙΔΗ in Aristotle's Earlier and Later Theories of Substance, John A. Driscol • 7. Averroes as Commentator on Aristotle's Theory of the Intellect, Arthur Hyman • 8. Aristotle's Method of Ethics, Terence Irwin • 9. Goodness and Human Aims in Aristotle's Ethics, Nicholas P. White • 10. Aristotle on the Essence of Happiness, Daniel T Devereux • 11. The ΚΑΛΟΝ in Aristotelian Ethics, Joseph Owens • 12. Telos and Teleology in Aristotelian Ethics, Henry B Veatch. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Aristotle's On the Soul: A Critical Guide ed. by Caleb M. CohoeAttila HangaiCaleb M. Cohoe, editor. Aristotle's On the Soul: A Critical Guide. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2022. Hardback, $99.99.Guiding readers through Aristotle's science of the soul, this volume covers many major topics of De Anima (DA) and addresses specific questions, including perennial interpretive problems. The self-contained chapters approach the text either by illuminating its (...) context or by elucidating key psychological concepts. While some contributions refer to relevant [End Page 318] positions by Aristotle's predecessors or contemporary philosophers, connections drawn to other Aristotelian texts predominate. Throughout, the emphasis is on philosophical questions. The result is a first-rate philosophical guide through this densely written treatise, which allows experienced readers of DA to deepen their understanding of Aristotelian psychology. Since most chapters approach interpretive issues from new angles and presuppose familiarity with the existing scholarship, beginners may want to start elsewhere.In Reeve's reading (chapter 1), Aristotle pursues dialectic in DA to define the soul as the first principle for the science of life. He construes dialectic as "going through puzzles and solving them by appeal to endoxa" (21), and equates it with induction from perceptual experience to knowledge of principles and causes. Contesting this view, Carter (chapter 2) argues that the physicist's method is not dialectical because the predecessors' views, conflicting as they are, do not constitute endoxa. Through close readings of DA II.2–5, he shows that Aristotle investigates earlier theories to assess how well they explain the main functions of the soul. One pertinent theory takes the soul to be attunement (harmonia). Shields (chapter 4) elucidates Aristotle's case for hylomorphism as an advance over the harmonia theory. Although harmonia (as the proper arrangement of parts) implies normativity, it falls short of rendering the soul as a final cause with its own good, so it cannot explain the unity of the body. Frey's chapter 5 on the soul's unity deals with this latter function. The problem of unity stems from the fact that each level in the hierarchy of souls—nutritive, perceptual, rational—can be defined independently, yet a posterior soul presupposes the existence of all prior ones. The key Frey uses to understand unity is potential presence. Just as a triangle is present potentially in a quadrangle—for division of the latter yields triangles—so too is the nutritive soul present potentially in the perceptual soul, although not due to a separating act. This, however, has counterintuitive implications: animal nutrition would be the function of a perceptual soul; furthermore, the nutritive soul of the embryo (in Frey's biological example) would first be present potentially (as undeveloped) and, once actualized (when developed), would revert to potentiality (at the development of the perceptual soul). Frey's other proposal is more promising. It turns on the notion of natural continuity: having an internal cause for a characteristic change with a unitary goal. Thus, the soul's unity for Frey (despite his reservations) seems to boil down to teleology: the soul sets a goal achieved through the manifestation of species-specific life functions. Invoking the biology of animal reproduction, Gelber (chapter 6) complements the teleological unity regarding the nutritive soul-part with the unity constituted by the continuity of the processes of nutrition, growth, and reproduction, namely, unity by material and efficient causes.Among the three contributions on reason (nous), Scheiter (chapter 3), examining its separability, breaks with the traditional interpretation and takes Aristotle to show (in DA III.4 and I.3) that reason is independent not only of bodily organs but of any magnitude (megethos). This envisages DA III.4–8 as an investigation into how reason functions as a different kind of capacity. It turns out, according to Kelsey's insightful chapter 11, that reason's actuality—insight (noēsis)—is the same as its intelligible object (noēton), and so intelligibility depends on separation from matter by the actuality of reason, making all and only the immaterial things intelligible and intelligent. Cohoe (chapter 12) draws the conclusion: human reason for Aristotle—being the defining part of the human soul, most... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Aristotle and the AppearancesPaul Nieuwenburg1.G. E. L. owen’s influential article Tithenai ta phainomena1 has had a very special efficacy in converting long-standing suspicions into the certainty of what one might call, without exaggeration, an orthodoxy. One of Owen’s arguments is widely thought to remove, in a quite definite way, all doubt surrounding the interpretation of the ambiguous term ta phainomena, usually rendered ‘the appearances,’ as it figures in (...) one of Aristotle’s reflections on ‘the methods of ethics.’2 And indeed, as the pun on Sidgwick’s The Methods of Ethics suggests,3 the argument paves the way for extracting from Aristotle’s instructions [End Page 551] a telos not unlike that of a certain modern conception of ethics—a coherent body of propositions wrought from our common-sense intuitions about moral matters.Point of departure is a quotation of the methodological reflection from the Nicomachean Ethics (EN 1145b2–7), the subject of the argument in question. The reflection sketches the procedure to be followed in the treatment of akrasia, or the phenomenon of, to put it in a rather slipshod manner, doing what one knows to be wrong. It will be helpful to comply with standard practice and to give Owen’s own translation of the bulk of this passage (b2–6), supplementing it with the missing final clause (b6–7).Here as in other cases we must set down [tithentas] the phainomena and begin by considering the difficulties [diaporêsantas], and so go on to vindicate if possible all the common conceptions [ta endoxa] about these states of mind [peri tauta ta pathê], or at any rate most of them and the most important; {for when both the difficulties are solved and the endoxa are left [kataleipêtaı], it would have been proven sufficiently [dedeigmenon hikanôs].} (EN 1145b2–7)Owen argues that W. D. Ross’ ‘empiricist’ construal of the term phainomena (‘observed facts’) cannot be consistently maintained in a dialectical examination of beliefs on moral matters—and we shall presently see why this should be so. Indeed, the term must be systematically ambiguous, referring to ‘hard’ empirical data in one context (notably APr 46a20) and to endoxa (or legomena [EN 1145b20]), i.e., ‘common conceptions’ in the other.As a consequence, the method outlined in this passage would look like this. First, you have to assemble and present a collection of beliefs (tithenai ta phainomena) on the relevant subject-matter. Since it is most likely that tensions will disfigure the set of endoxa you have garnered, you must, second, by way of preliminary exercise ‘go through the perplexities’ (diaporein) they raise, in order to pinpoint the inconsistencies and infelicities barring the way to endoxic coherence. The removal of these frictions will result in a ‘maximal consistent subset’ of endoxa on the matter, namely, when the perplexities (aporiai), or difficulties (duskherê), are solved. Sufficient proof has been given when all, most, or the most important (kuriôtata) endoxa reappear in this final set. “And then? And then nothing: your philosophical task is over. “4The intersubstitutability of ‘appearances’ (phainomena) and ‘reputable beliefs’ [End Page 552] (as I prefer to render endoxa)5 is buttressed by a fairly general consensus in contemporary Aristotelian scholarship. Many authors assume that in the text under consideration and, in its wake, in certain other ethical contexts, both terms have the same reference, without, however, being synonymous.6 Henceforth, I shall label this assumption (I) (for ‘intersubstitutability assumption’), covering both Owen’s conclusion and the argument leading up to it, on the obvious supposition that espousing the conclusion entails a commitment to the validity of the argument. Against all appearances, however, (I) is not as foolproof as its widespread acclaim suggests. Although extensions of (I) to other methodological contexts in Aristotle’s ethical writings (in particular EE 1214b28–1215a) prejudice a due understanding of Aristotelian ethics, the point is, I believe, worth arguing in its own right.In what follows, I shall first lay bare a ‘perplexity’ latent in (I). It will emerge that its premises do not as firmly support the conclusion as it has seemed to many writers. Therefore, I shall not side with those... (shrink)

Introduction: Moral responsibility and Aristotle's concerns -- 1. Moral responsibility and moral character -- 2. Voluntariness, praiseworthiness, and character -- 3. The dialectical inquiry into voluntariness -- 4. Force, compulsion, and the internal origin of action --5. Responsibility for character: its scope and significance --6. Moral agency and the origination of action -- App. I. Varieties of knowledge and ignorance -- App. II. "Up to us" and the internal origin.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Philosophy and Rhetoric 34.3 (2001) 245-259 [Access article in PDF] Virtue in Aristotle's Rhetoric: A Metaphysical and Ethical Capacity Susan K. Allard-Nelson It has been argued that Aristotle's description of excellence (aretê) as a capacity (dynamis) in Rhetoric 1.9 is inconsistent with his treatment of excellence in Nicomachean Ethics 2.5, where he specifically argues that aretê is not a dynamis, but a hexis (i.e., a state or (...) condition). 1 Certainly, the word that Aristotle uses throughout the Nicomachean Ethics to both describe and categorize aretê is hexis, and he uses this word at Rhetoric 1.6.1362b13, where he says that several of the virtues, and all other such states (kai hai allai hai toiautai hexeis), are excellences of the soul. However, as part of his discussion of the ethical aspects of oratory, Aristotle states that aretê is "a capacity (dynamis) of providing and preserving good things, and a capacity of conferring many great benefits (euergetikê)" (Rh. 1.9.1366a36-1366b1). 2 This discussion is set in language similar to that used to discuss excellence and goodness in Rhetoric 1362b2-4 and 1361a28-30; this suggests that Aristotle intentionally identifies aretê with dynamis in this text, and, to some degree at least, with the dynamis to benefit others. In the former passage, Aristotle claims that "the excellences, too, must be a good thing, for those who possess them are in a good condition, and they are productive of good things and good actions" (Rh. 1.6.1362b2-4). In the latter passage, Aristotle states that honor (timê) can be paid, not only to those who have already done good, but also to those who have the capacity to do good (dynamenos euergetein) in the future. Indeed, in the Rhetoric 1.9.1366b3-7, Aristotle further unites the concepts of excellence, capacity, and beneficence by stating, "If excellence is the capacity of conferring benefits (dynamis euergetikê), then the greatest virtues must be those which are the most useful to others, and, for this reason, justice and courage are the most honored; for the latter is useful to others in war, and the former both in war and in peace" (1366b3-7). [End Page 245]Based on an understanding of this apparent inconsistency in terminology as intentional on Aristotle's part, I intend to argue here that Aristotle's identification of aretê with dynamis in Rhetoric can be understood within the highly specific context of rhetoric as an art as more appropriate, both metaphysically and ethically, than would have been an identification of aretê with hexis. I also intend to argue that, while certain tensions and difficulties are created by the classification of aretê as a dynamis in the Rhetoric and as a hexis in the Nicomachean Ethics, 3 Aristotle can be defended against the charge of inconsistency.To this end, then, I begin by examining the implications of defining rhetoric as an art (technê) that has persuasion (pistis) as its end (telos) and function (ergon). 1. Rhetoric is an art, and, as we know from EN 6.4, art is identical to a state of reasoned capacity to make, and all art is concerned with the coming into being of something that is capable of either being or not being, and whose origin is in the maker (1140a1-23). Art is a rational capacity, or a potency that moves according to, and involves, a rational formula (kai ta men kata logon dynatai kinein kai hai dynameis auton meta logou), and, as such, it is capable of producing contrary effects (Met. 9.5.1047b31-1048a24). For this reason, and to negate the impossibility of contrary effects being produced simultaneously, Aristotle states that a rational capacity involves not only the elements of agent and patient, but also a desire or choice on the part of the agent that moves her 4 to act (Met. 9.5.1048a10). This necessary desire or choice, in fact, explains why an inference in the case of the arts (or of any rational capacity) can be made in one direction... (shrink)

This essay explores Aristotle’s description of virtue or excellence as a completion through a contextual reading of two texts: the entry on “the complete” in his philosophical lexicon and the brief discussion of excellence in Physics 7.3. In both Aristotle explores conceptual and ontological issues germane to a general concept of excellence; in both, the key premise is that excellence is best thought of as a completion. His development of this claim draws on two larger themes. In Metaphysics (...) 5, the concept of excellence as a completion belongs to a broad conceptual realm—explored in chapters 16–17 and 25–27—in which intelligible realities are presented metaphorically in terms of shape and size. Within this realm, excellence grows toward a limit set by the powers that make a substance what it is. In the Physics, excellence belongs to a world structured by contraries and therefore also by coming to be and destruction. What it completes is a substance’s power to negotiate such a world while maintaining and developing its own identity. Having grown to full stature through its proper excellence, the substance can keep itself from being affected or altered in ways that would undermine its being; in so doing, it approximates the self-sufficient impassivity that Aristotle attributes to thought. The themes of alteration and identity are also pursued in On the Soul 2.5, which provides an important complement to Physics 7.3. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Aristotle on Shame and Learning to Be Good by Marta JimenezJerry GreenMarta Jimenez. Aristotle on Shame and Learning to Be Good. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2021. Pp. 224. Hardback, $70.00.Aristotle on Shame and Learning to Be Good is a close examination of an underappreciated topic in Aristotle's theories of moral psychology and moral development: shame. Jimenez argues that shame is a sui generis emotion (...) that plays a crucial role in the habituation of moral virtue in young humans who are not yet virtuous and therefore cannot fully see the moral landscape as accurately as the fully developed virtuous adult. On this view, shame acts as a protovirtue that orients the developing moral agent toward "the noble" (τό καλόν), using social cues to learn not only what actions should be avoided or performed, but also what makes those actions shameful or noble, allowing them to eventually see beyond these external correlates of the noble and develop a grasp of nobility itself. Shame is therefore an indispensable tool for cultivating the emotional, perceptual, and cognitive abilities of a person on the path to virtue.The treatment of shame presented here is meant to bridge what Jimenez calls the "moral upbringing gap." On the one hand, nonvirtuous people are able to engage in the same behavior as virtuous people: they can, in principle, eat moderately, stand firm in battle, use their money judiciously, and so on, in a way that is externally indistinguishable from the virtuous. But there is no guarantee that performing these behaviors will lead the nonvirtuous person to develop the psychological traits necessary to perform virtuous actions as the virtuous person does them, with the correct motivation, emotion, and reasoning (e.g. performing a virtuous action enthusiastically, because it is the right thing to do, in a clear-eyed, informed way). Jimenez argues that shame can bridge this gap between action and affect by using signs like the disapproval of others or the depictions of literary exemplars such as epic heroes, not only to see what actions should be done or avoided, but also to begin to appreciate how and why these actions are in fact noble. So understood, shame is directed at the noble itself, not merely at the things that tend to be superficially associated with the noble (such as the pleasures of social praise or the inconveniences of ill repute).The chapters of this short book naturally fall into three groups. The first section (chapters 1 and 2) focuses on common interpretations of shame's role in Aristotle's ethics and objections to these interpretations. Chapter 1 studies the moral upbringing gap discussed above, with emphasis on moral motivation; chapter 2 focuses on the role of pleasure and pain. Both chapters draw heavily on classic works on the topic, such as Miles Burnyeat's "Aristotle on Learning to Be Good" (in Essays on Aristotle's Ethics, ed. A. O. Rorty [Berkeley: University of California Press, 1980], 69-92) and Nancy Sherman's The Fabric of Character (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989).The middle section of the book describes the nuances of moral development in Aristotle's moral psychology. Chapter 3 is a case study on the varieties of states that resemble courage; this chapter may initially appear to be a digression, but it highlights the many distinct psychological components of true virtue, giving us a better sense of just how complex the path toward moral development is, and hence what role shame would need to play in this development. Chapter 4 focuses on honor, with special attention paid to the importance of genuine approbation of praiseworthy actions from reputable sources.The final section of the book examines shame itself and the indispensable role it plays in moral development. Chapter 5 argues that shame is a sui generis emotion, not quite a full disposition (hexis), but more than a mere passion (pathos). This chapter also argues that we need not posit any special distinctions to harmonize two key passages on shame from books IV.9 and X.9 of the Nicomachean Ethics that may appear to be in tension. Chapter 6 shows how shame operates in moral development and why it is a... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:BOOK REVIEWS 181 On Intuition and Discursive Reasoning in Aristotle. By VICTOR KAL. Philosophia Antiqua, no. 46. Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1988. Pp. 196. 74 guilders (approx. $37.00). This is a study of Aristotle's logic and psychology of mind which explores a connection between the two. This connection is used, on the one hand, to corroborate the results of the study of the logic and, on the (...) other hand, to elucidate the most controverted text of Aristotle's psychology, De Anima, 3. 5, with its discussion of active mind. Part 1 argues for the dependence of all discursive thinking on non-discursive sources of knowldge, viz., experience and intuition. Part 2, a bridge section, distinguishes logic, epistemology, and psychology: logic studies the forms of reasoning; epistemology studies the connection of reasoning to reality, as Aristotle does notably in Posterior Analytics, 2. 19; and psychology "shows how... cognitive processes... take place from the point of view of physics and First Philosophy " (p. 63). Part 3 investigates the psychology of cognition found in the De Anima and elsewhere and finds in it confirmation of the results of part l. In addition, Kal here offers a new interpretation of what Aristotle means by active mind. In part 1 Kal presents a careful textual study of Aristotle's view of definition, induction, and the syllogism, both dialectical and demonstra· tive, and argues that, as discursve methods, all of them presuppose knowledge already acquired, i.e., first principles that must be known. This raises the question of the origin of such principles, a question which Aristotle addresses and answers in Posterior Analytics, 2. 19. A common interpretation of this difficult chapter holds that first principles are grasped through induction. The text which seems to support this view is found in lines l00b3-5: " Thus it is clear that we necessarily know the first principles by induction; for sensation also produces the universal in this way." Kal argues that this text, when understood according to the indications of its context, does not make induction the source of first principles. Rather, Aristotle's position is that sensation, which gives us the universal, is based on experience (lOOall) and, therefore, an induction, which is also based on experience, also gives the universal (p. 51). Furthermore, Kal finds a much simpler argu· ment against the position that induction is the source of our knowledge of first principles in the beginning of Posterior Analytics, 2. 19, where "Aristotle rejects knowledge based on previous knowledge, and thus induction, as a solution to the problem of the knowledge of the first principles" (p. 52). Induction, then, remains one of the discursive methods, and, as such, depends on a kind of knowledge that is acquired 182 BOOK REVIEWS without being based on previously acquired knowledge. Kai insists that, if knowledge is possible, there must he a non-discursive origin for first principles; and, in his investigation of Aristotle's position, he finds only two such origins-experience and intuition. Sense experience brings the universal to light, although it does not know the universal as such, hut only as an accidental object of sensation. It is intellective intuition (nous) which knows the universal as such (p. 48). Having argued for the primacy of intuition (nous) in part l, Kai turns to the psychology of cognition in part 3. Is the primacy of nous corroborated by Aristotle's understanding of sensation and thinking? Kal finds that it is. From the point of view of logic and epistemology, the non-discursive origin of first principles is an immediate knowledge, a knowledge that does not require a middle term. As Kal puts it, the immediacy of intuition " lies... in the fact that contact is made with the object of knowledge simply, without active intervention of the knower" (p. 59). In receiving the object of knowledge the knower is completely receptive. Similarly, Kal argues, sensation and thinking in the sense of intuitive thought are also completely receptive, and this receptivity confirms the results of part l; cognition when viewed both from the point of view of logic-and epistemology, and from the point of view of psychology reveals the same essential receptivity. Just as Aristotle argues... (shrink)

I Virtue 1. Moral Virtue 2. Continence, Endurance, and Virtue 3. Desert 4. The Intellectual Virtues II The Good Life 5. The Good for Man 6. Happiness 7. Production and Action 8. Action and Contemplation 9. Teleology III Friendship 10. What friendship is 11. Kinds of friendship 12. The friend as another self 13. The need for friends IV Political science V Some reflections..

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Notes and Discussions ARISTOTLE'S ALLEGED "REVOLT" AGAINST PLATO Hermippus' most conspicuous contribution to Aristotle's biography probably was his determined effort to depict Aristotle as the founder of an original school of philosophy which was wholly independent of Plato and Platonic teachings. Among the several and, in all likelihood, fanciful stories about Aristotle he invented or propagated, the most startling was the account, subsequently widely accepted (...) (and widely exploited by the detractors of Aristotle), that after having been a disciple of Plato for a while, he seceded from the Academy and from Plato's philosophic teachings while Plato was still alive. 1 Accordingly, he owed little to Plato and to the Academy. This story, invented and propagated by an inveterate Peripatetic (Hermippus), was intended to demonstrate the original philosophic genius of Aristotle which developed in complete independence of Plato and necessitated a break with the master's teachings. In devising his argument, Hermippus might have made use of a report, found in some of Aristotle's ancient biographers, that a few brash young men (members of the Academy?) revolted against Plato and, in a spirit of independence, defiance and antagonism, attempted to start a school of their own which would rival the intellectual standing of the Academy. 2 Hermippus, it appears, subsequently identified these young "rebels" with Aristotle, a substitution convenient to Hermippus" aim to depict Aristotle as a wholly independent and totally original philosopher who owed nothing whatever to Plato and his teachings. In all likelihood, Diogenes Laertius' statement that Aristotle "seceded from the Academy while Plato was still alive," a is just an echo either of a statement made by Hermippus himself or is a conclusion drawn from the several unpleasant stories about Aristotle invented and reported by some of Aristotle's detractors. According to these derogatory stories, there existed many serious personal as well as doctrinal 4 disagreements or rifts between Plato and the Stagirite--disagreeDiogenes Laertius, V. 2. See also Eusebius, Praeparatio Evangelica, XV. 2. 3, and ibid., XV. 2. 13 (Aristoxenus); Aelian, Varia Historia, IV. 9; Theodoretus, Graecorum Affectionum Curatio, IV. 46; St. Augustine, De Civitate Dei, VIII. 12; Philoponus, Comment. in Aristotelis Analytica Posteriora, CIAG, vol. XIII, part 3, pp. 133, 30 ft. 2 See Aelius Aristides, Oratio XLVI, 249. 10. See also note 1, supra. s Diogenes Laertius, V. 2. See also Vita Aristotelis Marciana 9; Vita Aristotelis Latina 9. 9 See, for instance, Plutarch, Adversus Coloten 14 (Moralia, III5A); Cicero, Academica I. 9. 33; Eusebius, op. cir., XV. 2, passim; Diogenes Laertius III. 37; Justin Martyr, Cohortatio ad Graecos 5 (Migne, PG. vol. VI. p. 247); Cyrillus, Contra Julianum II. 47; Proclus, [91] 92 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY ments whichmarred the relations between these two men and which were indicative of Aristotle's ingratitude, bad taste and unwarranted conceit. The report of Diogenes Laertius, in an oblique manner, may also refer to the fact that already during his active association with the Platonic Academy (367-348 B.c.), that is, in his On (the) Ideas and On the Good, Aristotle had begun to disagree with, and criticize, some of Plato's fundamental teachings. It may also, in a distorted form, refer to the following specific incident which, however, cannot be verified: According to Aristoxenus, during the absence of Plato in Syracuse (and while Heracleides of Pontus was the "acting scholarch" of the Academy),5 some unnamed young members of the Academy, or "students" or, perhaps, some "outsiders " attempted to start a rival school (within the Academy?).6 As a matter of fact, Aelian, who apparently dramatizes this incident, reports that during Plato's last years, that is, some time after Plato's return from his third and last voyage to Syracuse, a serious conflict or confrontation arose within the Academy. Aristotle, together with some of his friends, or "conspirators," we are told, harrassed and molested the aging Plato by constantly putting questions to him, by arguing with him in an insolent manner, by contradicting him on every point, and by attempting to involve him in hair-splitting dialectics. At the time Xenocrates was in Chalcedon, and Speusippus was gravely ill. Hence, neither of them could come to the succor of Plato. In... (shrink)

The symbolism introduced earlier provides a convenient vehicle for examining the status and consistency of Aristotle's three diverse justifications and for explaining how he means to avoid Protagorean relativism without embracing Platonic absolutism. When the variables ‘ x ’ and ‘ y ’ are allowed to range over the groups of free men in a given polis as well as over individual free men, the formula for the Aristotelian conception of justice expresses the major premiss of Aristotle's three (...) justifications: (1) (∀ x )(∀ y ) (P(x)·W(x)/P(y)·W(y)=V(T(x))/V(T(y)))Democracy is justified by adding a minor premiss to the effect that as a group the many ( m ) are superior (>) in virtue and wealth to the few best men ( f ): 85 (2 d ) (P(m) · W(m)) > (P(f) · W(f)) (3 d ) V(T(m))>V(T(f))Absolute kingship is justified when a godlike man ( g ) appears in a polis who is incommensurably superior (≫) in virtue and wealth to all the remaining free men ( r ): (2 k ) (P(g) · W(g)) ≫ (P(r) · W(r)) (3 k ) V(T(g)) ≫ V(T(r))True aristocracy requires a more complex justification, which was symbolized in Section 4. These justifications are compatible with each other since they apply to different situations. The polises where democracy and true aristocracy are justified contain no godlike men, and the polis in which democracy is justified differs from that in which true aristocracy is justified in containing a large group of free men who individually have little virtue ( Pol. III.11.1281b23-25, 1282a25-26). Each of the justifications is a valid deductive argument. Aristotle affirms the major premiss they share on the basis of a twofold appeal to nature. The principle of distributive justice, the concept as distinguished from the various conceptions of distributive justice, is itself according to nature ( Pol. VII.3.1325b7-10) and so too is one particular standard of worth, the standard of the best polis. Consequently, the question of the status of these three justifications, whether they are purely hypothetical or not, is a question about the minor premiss or premisses of each. In the case of the democratic premiss Aristotle's answer is straightforward: it is sometimes but not always true ( Pol. III.11.1281bl5-21). Hence the justification of democracy is not purely hypothetical. Nor is the justification of absolute kingship. The man who is “like a god among men” ( Pol. III.13.1284a10-11) would be a man of heroic virtue (see VII.14.1332bl6-27); and such a man, Aristotle says, is “rare” ( σπávιoη ) (not nonexistent) ( E.N. VII.1.1145a27-28). The minor premisses of the aristocratic argument describe a situation where all of the free men in a given polis have sufficient wealth for the exercise of the moral and intellectual virtues and where all of the older free men of the polis are men of practical wisdom. In the Politics Aristotle makes only the modest claim that such a situation is possible: It is not possible for the best constitution to come into being without appropriate equipment [that is, the appropriate quality and quantity of territory and of citizens and noncitizens]. Hence one must presuppose many things as one would wish them to be, though none of them must be impossible ( Pol. VII.4.1325b37-38; see also II.6.1265al7-18). But Aristotle appears to subscribe to the principle that every possibility is realized at some moment of time ( Top. 11.11.115bl7-18, Met. Θ.4.1047b3-6, N.2.1088b23-25). This principle together with the claim that the situation described is possible entails that the situation sometimes occurs. Thus even Aristotle's justification of true aristocracy is not purely hypothetical. The final question is Aristotle's way of avoiding Protagorean relativism without embracing Platonic absolutism. The relativist, along with everyone else ( E.N. V.3.1131a13-14, Pol. III.12.1282bl8), can accept the principle of distributive justice: Q(x)/Q(y) = V(T(x))/V(T(y)) And he can concede that particular instances of this principle, particular conceptions of justice, accurately describe the modes of distributing political authority that appear just to particular polises and to particular philosophers. What he denies is that there is any basis for ranking these various conceptions of justice or for singling one out as the best (Plato, Theaet. 172A-B). Aristotle, following in Plato's track ( Laws X.888D7-890D8), maintains against the relativist that nature provides such a basis. But he departs from Plato in his conception of nature. For Plato “the just by nature” ( τó ρυσει δίκ↑oν }) ( Rep. VI.501B2) is the Form of justice, an incorporeal entity ( Phdo. 65D4-5, Soph. 246B8) that exists beyond time and space ( Tim. 37C6-38C3, 51E6-52B2), whereas for Aristotle the sensible world is the realm of nature ( Met. A.1.1069a30-b2). Thus in appealing to nature Aristotle does not appeal to a transcendent standard. Nor does he appeal to his main criterion of the natural, namely, happening always or for the most part. Aristotle's theory of justice is anchored to nature by means of the polis described in Politics VII and VIII, and he regards this polis as natural because it fosters the true end of human life and because its social and political structure reflects the natural hierarchy of human beings and the natural stages of life. Thus the nature that Aristotle's theory of justice is ultimately founded on is human nature. (shrink)