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)

Metaphysics Epsilon 2-3 and Nicomachean Ethics III 5 (1114b3-25) are often cited in favor of indeterminist interpretations of Aristotle. In Metaphysics Epsilon Aristotle denies that the coincidental has an aitia, and some (e.g., Sorabji) take this as a denial that coincidences have causes. In NE III 5 Aristotle says a person's actions and character must have their origin (archê) in the agent for him to be responsible for them. From this, some conclude that Aristotle thinks a (...) person can be the uncaused cause of his actions, (e.g., Hardie, Ross), or at least that there must be some sort of break in the causal nexus, so that the person's character cannot be traced back to an external origin (Furley). I argue that Metaphysics Epsilon does not show that Aristotle disbelieves in causal determinism, since he is dealing with issues of explanation in these passages, not causal necessitation. Metaphysics Epsilon 2-3 is not irrelevant to the controversy between compatibilist and incompatibilist interpretations of Aristotle, however. I will argue that a proper understanding of Metaphysics Epsilon's doctrine that the sumbebekos lacks an aitia sheds light on what Aristotle means in NE III 5 when he says that the voluntary must have an internal origin, and that it helps to show how one's action and character can have an 'internal origin' even if one's actions and character can be traced entirely to external causes. Finally, I will take this doctrine of the voluntary having an 'internal origin' and use it to illuminate Aristotle's discussion of the different types of excusing conditions in NE III 1. (shrink)

ABSTRACT: This paper serves two purposes: (i) it can be used by students as an introduction to chapters 1-5 of book iii of the NE; (ii) it suggests an answer to the unresolved question what overall objective this section of the NE has. The paper focuses primarily on Aristotle’s theory of what makes us responsible for our actions and character. After some preliminary observations about praise, blame and responsibility (Section 2), it sets out in detail how all the key (...) notions of NE iii 1-5 are interrelated (Sections 3-9). The setting-out of these interconnections makes it then possible to provide a comprehensive interpretation of the purpose of the passage. Its primary purpose is to explain how agents are responsible for their actions not just insofar as they are actions of this kind or that, but also insofar as they are noble or base: agents are responsible for their actions qua noble or base, because, typically via choice, their character dispositions are a causal factor of those actions (Section 10). The paper illustrates the different ways in which agents can be causes of their actions by means of Aristotle’s four basic types of agents (Section 11). A secondary purpose of NE iii 1-5 is to explain how agents can be held responsible for consequences of their actions (Section 12), in particular for their character dispositions insofar as these are noble or base, i.e. virtues or vices (Section 13). These two goals are not the only ones Aristotle pursues in the passage. But they are the ones Aristotle himself indicates in its first sentence and summarizes in its last paragraph; and the ones that give the passage a systematic unity. The paper also briefly consider the issues of freedom-to-do-otherwise, free choice and free-will in the contexts in which they occur (i.e. in the final paragraphs of Sections 6, 7, 12, 13). (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: Choice and Virtue in the Nicomachean Ethics ALFRED R. MELE COM~rNTATORS ON THr Nicomachean Ethics (NE) have long been laboring under the influence of a serious misunderstanding of one of the key terms in Aristotle's moral philosophy and theory of action. This term is prohairesis (choice), the importance of which is indicated by Aristotle's assertions that choice is the proximate efficient cause of action (NE 6. (...) 1139a31--32) and that in which "the essential elements of virtue and character" lie (NE 8. x163a2'~-23). The accepted view is that Aristotle employs two importantly different notions of choice in the NE, one on which the term refers exclusively to means or things which are pros (toward, related to)' ends and another on which it does not have this reference? This "two notion" interpretation is motivated by the following three considerations: i. Aristotle's good or virtuous agent is said (NE 2. 11o5a28-33, cf. NE 6. 1144ax8-2o ) to choose actions for their own sakes; but, according to the This paper is derived in part from a chapter of my doctoral dissertation, which was submitted to the University of Michigan in January of 1979. 1 would like to express my gratitttde to the chairman of my dissertation committee, Nicholas P. White, for his comments and criticisms on the relevant sections during the preparation of my dissertation and to theJHP's anonymous reviewers for their helpful criticisms and queries. ' It has often been pointed out that things which are pros an end are not necessarily "means," in the ordinary sense of the word. E.g., constituents of an end are pros the end, but they are not means to it. See, e.g., Nicomachean Ethics, Book 6, trans. Leonard H. G. Greenwood (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 19o9), pp. 46-47, 53ff.: and John M. Cooper, Reason and Human Good in Aristotle (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1975), pp. 1o-22. ' Among the many proponents of this "two notion" interpretation are William D. Ross and Donald J. Allan. See Ross, Aristotle, 5th ed. (London: Methuen, t953), p. 2oo. See Allan, The Philosophy of Aristotle, 2nd ed. (London: Oxford University Press, 197o), p. 132; idem, "Aristotle 's Account of the Origin of Moral Principles," Xlth International Congress of Philosophy 12 (1953):124; idem, "The Practical Syllogism," in Autour d'Aristote, Studies for A. Mansion (Louvain : Publications Universitaires, 1955). Richard Sorabji, in "Aristotle on the Role of Intellect in Virtue" (Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society 74 l t973-74]:t t6), says that he has noticed sixteen commentators who take this view. [4o5] 406 HISTORY OF PHILOSOPHY so-called formal account of prohairesis (NE 3. 2-3, 6. 2), the object of choice is what has been decided upon by deliberation (bouleuais), and what is decided upon by deliberation is a "means" to an end. 2. Aristotle says that choice is "closely bound up with virtue" and "discriminates characters better than actions do" (1 1t lb5; cf. t i lob3t, 1117a 5, 1163a22, 1t64bi); but commentators argue that these claims about choice are false unless choice is "of ends." 3. Though Aristotle holds that the impetuous akrat~s (incontinent agent) does not deliberate (e.g., t 152a 18-19), he says that the akrat~s' choice is good (1152ax5--17; cf. l l51a5-- 7, 29--32); and this appears to contradict his position in Book 3 that the object of choice is what is decided upon by deliberation, s In this paper I shall show that only one (philosophically significant) notion ofprohairesis is employed in the NE, namely, the notion developed in the "formal account" of deliberation and choice (3- 2-3, 6. 2), according to which choice is specifically of things which are pros ends. This point has several interesting applications. For example, it makes it easier to find in Aristotle (as I shall briefly explain) a comprehensive theory of practical reasoning or inference rather than several unconnected accounts of what practical inference is like in different types of cases; and it is helpful in clarifying what is involved in the evaluation of character on Aristotle's view (see Sec. ~). However, though I do think that the main point to be made... (shrink)

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)

This article offers a new interpretation of Aristotle’s ambiguous and much-discussed claim that pleasure perfects activity. This interpretation provides an alternative to the two main competing readings of this claim in the scholarship: the addition-view, which envisages the perfection conferred by pleasure as an extra perfection beyond the perfection of activity itself; and the identity-view, according to which pleasure just is the perfect activity itself. The proposed interpretation departs from both these views in rejecting their assumption that pleasure cannot (...) perfect the activity itself, and argues that pleasure makes activity perfect by optimising the exercise of one’s capacities for that activity. Those who build or play music with pleasure do so better than those who do not delight in these activities. The basis of this interpretation is Aristotle’s little-read remarks from the following chapter, i. e. NE x.5, about how pleasure “increases” the activity. (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 NE III.10, 1118b1–3, Aristotle says that the “most shared of the senses is that according to which intemperance [comes about], and it would seem justifiably to be shameful, because it inheres [in us] not insofar as we are human beings, but insofar as we are animals”. This statement appears to describe the sense of touch as shameful. This may seem like a strange position for Aristotle to hold, since elsewhere he describes human touch as the most accurate (...) among animal species, which corresponds to our superior intelligence, and as necessary for animal life. In this paper, I argue that Maimonides nevertheless succeeds in showing that Aristotle has a strong theoretical reason for maintaining that the sense of touch is shameful. Maimonides shows that, based on principles of Aristotelian psychology, human touch is indeed shameful because it obstructs intellectual activity. (shrink)

U Metafizici Γ. 3 počelo neproturječnosti otkriva se kao počelo mišljenja, ali i počelo svih bića. Prema tome, PN ima svoja dva aspekta – ontički i logički. Ti su aspekti izraženi različitim formulacijama počela neproturječnosti koje nalazimo u Γ. 3. Ne može se govoriti o primatu nekog od aspekata, jer su oni upućeni jedan na drugoga: mišljenje je mišljenje bića, a biće je ono što se u mišljenju misli. PN se ističe time da je najpostojanije počelo jer je ono nužno (...) najspoznatljivije. Spoznatljivost ovoga počela ne ovisi o nekim subjektivno- psihološkim uvjetima već o tome da je PN ono konstitutivno svakog spoznavanja, što proizlazi iz njegove onto logičke naravi.In Metaphysics Γ. 3 the principle of non-contradiction is revealed as the principle of thought but also as the principle of all beings. Thus, it has two aspects – ontical and logical. These aspects are expressed by different formulations of PN which can be found in Γ. 3. It cannot be said that any aspect has primacy, because each one bears necessary relation with the other: thinking is the thinking of being and being is that which is thought in the thinking. PN is distinguished as the firmest principle because it is that which is necessarily the most knowable. Knowability of this principle does not depend on some subjective-psychological conditions, but on the fact that the PN is that which is constitutive in every knowledge, and that follows from its onto-logical nature. (shrink)

Résumé — En Enn., VI, 3 [44], 5, Plotin fait usage de doctrines péripatéticiennes concernant la substance, l’inhérence et la prédication. Ces doctrines correspondent de manière frappante à l’interprétation anti-extensionaliste de la substance physique développée par Alexandre d’Aphrodise contre les thèses des commentateurs plus anciens . Le parallèle entre Plotin et Alexandre ne doit cependant pas conduire à penser que Plotin se borne à suivre les thèses du commentateur, et que leurs doctrines soient donc identiques. Plotin vise plutôt à transposer (...) les principes de l’hylémorphisme d’Alexandre dans un contexte philosophique différent, fondé sur des prémisses métaphysiques qui portent sur la causalité des substances intelligibles. Comme Plotin le montre en VI, 3 [44], la forme hylémorphique n’est en effet pas substance : elle s’identifie à un amas de qualités accidentelles qui dépendent d’une essence véritable et extra-physique, le logos. On parvient à des conclusions analogues si l’on aborde la discussion de la causalité démiurgique chez Alexandre et Plotin. Les deux auteurs adressent des critiques approfondies au modèle artisanal de la causalité . Il n’est pas invraisemblable que les thèses d’Alexandre d’Aphrodise aient joué un rôle dans la genèse de la doctrine plotinienne de la causalité. Il faut cependant remarquer, encore une fois, que le cadre conceptuel dans lequel s’inscrivent les critiques de la causalité démiurgique chez Alexandre et chez Plotin est très différent. Pour Alexandre, la causalité démiurgique est rejetée en faveur d’une doctrine cosmologique de la finalité, qui rattache les récurrences naturelles aux mouvements cycliques des astres. Pour Plotin, en revanche, l’ordre naturel s’explique par l’action de principes extra-physiques et sa critique de la causalité démiurgique ne se comprend qu’à l’intérieur de la doctrine de la causalité des êtres intelligibles.Hylémorphisme et causalité des intelligibles.— In Enn., VI, 3 [44], 5 Plotinus outlines some doctrines regarding substance, inherence and predication. Such doctrines are similar to the anti-extensionalist reading of Aristotle’s physical substance that was developed by Alexander of Aphrodisias against previous Aristotelian commentators . The parallel between Plotinus and Alexander is striking : it can safely be inferred that Plotinus’ discussion is based on that of the commentator. This, however, should not lead to assume that Plotinus simply follows Alexander, so that their theories of physical substance are identical. Instead, Plotinus aims to transpose the philosophical principles of Alexander’s Peripatetic hylomorphism into a different doctrinal framework, where metaphysical premises involving the intelligible substances and their causality play a prominent role. As Plotinus shows in VI, 3 [44], the hylomorphic form is not a substance, but a bundle of accidental properties depending on an extra-physical substantial principle, i.e. the logos. The analysis of Alexander’s and Plotinus’ discussions of demiurgic causality lead to the same conclusions. Both philosophers criticize the demiurgic scheme of causality . It can reasonably be assumed that Alexander of Aphrodisias’ treatment played a role in the genesis of Plotinus’ view of causality. However, it is worth noting that the criticism of demiurgic causality has a quite different position within the systems of the two philosophers. Alexander rejects the presence of a demiurgic cause in favour of a cosmological conception of finalism, where natural recurrences are regarded as depending on the cyclical motions of the stars. According to Plotinus, instead, the order of nature is completely caused by extra-physical principles ; his criticism of demiurgic causality points to his doctrine of intelligible causes. (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)

This essay offers a reconstruction of Aristotle’s account of the voluntary in the Nicomachean Ethics, arguing that the voluntary grounds one notion of responsibility with two levels, and therefore both rational and non-rational animals are responsible for voluntary actions. Aristotle makes no distinction between causal and moral responsibility in the NE; rather, voluntariness and prohairesis form different bases for responsibility and make possible different levels of responsibility, but both levels of responsibility fall within the ethical sphere and are (...) aptly appraised. Important differences between the two levels remain. Animals and children are aptly appraised for direct voluntary actions. Conversely, only adults capable of prohairesis or rational choice are appraised for indirect voluntary actions—psychologically compelled actions that stem from character. Furthermore, while children and animals are responsible for actions, only adults casually contribute to the formation of their characters and thus are aptly appraised for character traits. (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)

Aristotle characterizes the courageous person as someone who “will fear” frightening things in the right way, and someone who “will endure” terrifying things for the sake of the noble (NE III 7, 1115b11-13). Aristotle’s claims that the courageous person experiences fear have puzzled commentators for at least two reasons: first, Aristotle’s contention about the courageous person’s fear appears to be inconsistent with his claims, elsewhere in the ethical treatises, that the courageous person is fearless; second, if courageous (...) agents suffer fear, and if fear involves a desire to avoid pain, then courageous people must act against some of their desires and thus appear to be self-controlled (enkratic) as opposed to fully virtuous. I argue that Aristotle has the resources to meet these challenges by appealing to his implicit distinction between courageous and non-courageous fear, and that only courageous fear makes contributions to Aristotelian courage. Fear, like most emotions for Aristotle, can be felt either well or poorly (NE II 5, 1105b27-1106a1). Courageous agents experience fear for their physical survival, insofar as they are human. However, they do not need to struggle to overcome this fear and their fear does not motivate them to flee from battle or fearful situations in which they can act virtuously. Instead, they can put the objects of their fear into proper perspective, taking appropriate precautions against physical harm, failure, or disgrace while nevertheless attempting to achieve a noble goal through courageous activity. Aristotle’s account not only highlights an important relationship between fear and virtue, but it also defends a crucial intuition that people are brave in part because they feel fear, rather than despite their fears. (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)

Notre article analyse deux passages curieux du traité Sur les difficultés relatives à l’âme III. De la vision (Enn. IV.5,3 et 8), dans lesquels Plotin paraît concevoir la possibilité d’un autre univers, situé en dehors du nôtre. Or, cet autre univers doit rester inconnu pour nous à jamais, quand bien même il y aurait un « oeil placé sur le dos du Ciel » qui voudrait le voir. En outre, nous ne saurons même pas décider si cet univers existe ou (...) non. En effet, explique Plotin, plusieurs univers ne peuvent absolument pas communiquer entre eux, précisément parce qu’ils forment des univers différents. S’ils communiquaient, ils seraient autant de parties du même univers et non pas des univers séparés, parce que la communication (la sympathie dans les termes de Plotin) circule seulement à l’intérieur du même univers. Nous rapprochons cet intéressant argument de certaines idées astrophysiques modernes et de la philosophie « des mondes possible » de David Lewis, sans pour autant pratiquer une lecture « modernisante » de Plotin. (shrink)

Plusieurs aspects de la métaphysique, de la physique, de l'éthique et de la psychologie d’Aristote peuvent s'interpréter comme des affleurements d'un concept non-thématisé, celui d'être-dans-le-monde (l'in-der-welt-sein de heidegger). L’ensemble de la pensée grecque classique, même si elle était fascinée par l'ordre du cosmos, ne s'est guère demande ce que signifiait "être-dans-le-monde". L’expérience de la facticité, qui est un des traits fondamentaux de celle-ci, est ce qui permet à Aristote dans le protreptique, de justifier la vie philosophique ; mais il conçoit (...) celle-ci comme culminant dans la contemplation, c'est-à-dire l'accès a ce qui est au plus haut point (ch. 2). Aristote est toujours resté pris dans cette ambiguïté, qui provient de ladite transposition : son éthique révèle ses hésitations entre deux sujets de l'agir moral : le "je" à qui il incombe d'agir de par ce qu'il a d'unique, le cédé a l'homme, tel qu'il est défini par sa place parmi les autres parties de l'univers (ch. 3 & 4). Par suite, il lui faut définir l'homme comme le plus mondain des êtres sublunaires : l'homme imite l'univers grâce à son universalité, et parce qu'il est capable de saisir les réalités les plus élevées (ch. 5). Cependant, Aristote ne peut définir le topos - ce dans quoi sont les choses- sans renvoyer à notre façon particulière d'être-là, même s'il réintroduit ensuite l'idée d'univers grâce à sa théorie des dimensions du corps humain comme fondées dans la structure objective du cosmos (ch. 6). Les difficultés de la définition aristotélicienne de l'âme ainsi que celles de la doctrine de l'intellect agent proviennent de la tentative d'Aristote pour transposer ce qu'il pense implicitement comme l'ouverture même du monde à travers notre présence dans le registre de la réalité mondaine-ce qui l'oblige à réduire l'âme à la conscience de ce qui se produit parmi les choses du monde (ch. 7). Il conçoit celui-ci d'une manière telle qu'elle l'amène à exclure le mouvement spécifiquement humain au profit de la continuité absolue des corps célestes. Cependant, la contemplation de soi du premier moteur reflète l'ambiguïté non résolue de l'energeia humaine : le pur acte d'être-là et l'activité de contempler le plus haut de tous les êtres s'y fondent (ch. 8). Malgré tout, l'energeia comme concept ontologique fondamental ne peut pas se définir en dehors de l'expérience humaine de l'être-là (ch. 9). (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)

본 논문의 목적은 아리스토텔레스가 『니코마코스 윤리학』 3권 5장에서 초반부에 제시한 악덕의 자발성 논증을 고찰하는 것이다. 이 논증은 성격과 행동을 개념적으로 혼동했을 뿐만 아니라, 다른 곳에서 제시된 아리스토텔레스의 입장과 상충한다는 비판을 받았다. 이 논증에 선행하는 덕의 자발성 논증 또한 덕행의 자발성을 입증할 뿐인데 덕의 자발성을 결론으로 도출했다는 비판을 받았다. 우리는 이러한 비판에 맞서 우선 선행 논증에서 일종의 생략추론(enthymeme)이 사용되었고, 논증에서 생략된 전제는 3권 5장의 후속 논의에서 완전히 몰지각한 사람 외에 누구나 아는 것으로 간주된 것이라는 해석을 제안한다. 다음으로 우리는 악덕의 자발성 논증을 (...) 소크라테스를 겨냥한 대인 논증(ad-hominem argument)으로 재구성하길 시도한다. 특히, 위(僞)-플라톤의 대화편 『정의에 관하여』에서 소크라테스가 악덕의 비자발성을 옹호하면서 유덕하게 행동하는 것과 유덕한 것을 등치시킨 점에 주목할 것이다. 우리는 아리스토텔레스가 이 점을 자신의 대인 논증에서 이용했지만, 이 점을 스스로 인정할 필요가 없었고, 자신의 입장을 일관적으로 유지하길 바라는 이상, 그럴 수도 없었다고 주장한다. (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)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:“Listening to Reason”:The Role of Persuasion in Aristotle’s Account of Praise, Blame, and the VoluntaryAllen SpeightAristotle connects praise and blame closely to the voluntary, but the question of how his discussion of these terms should be construed more broadly in the context of a theory of responsibility has been much disputed. There are some well-known difficulties with the coherence of Aristotle's views in this regard: animals and (...) children, for example, are said to be voluntary agents, but are not held to be responsible;1 moreover, praise and blame seem to be important for what might be thought to be incompatible purposes—on the one hand, for behavioral improvement and correction (a usually prospective concern) and, on the other hand, for assessment of moral responsibility in terms of what an agent merits or deserves for what he or she has done (a retrospective concern).2One of Aristotle's first examples of the use of praise and blame in the Nicomachean Ethics captures some of the difficulty commentators have found in trying to understand his position. In drawing an analogy to illustrate the difference between parts of the soul, Aristotle comments that "in morally strong and morally weak men we praise (epainoumen) the reason that guides them and the rational element of the soul, because it exhorts them to follow the right path and to do what is best" (NE 1102b13-15). There is, he thus claims, an appetitive part of the soul thatpartakes of reason insofar as it complies with reason and accepts its leadership (hē(i) katēkoon estin autou kai peitharchikon); it possesses reason in the sense that we say it is "reasonable" to accept the advice of a father and of friends, not in the sense that we have a "rational" understanding of mathematical propositions. That the irrational element can be persuaded (peithetai) by the rational is shown by the fact that admonition (nouthetēsis) and all manner of rebuke (epitimēsis) and exhortation (paraklēsis) are possible. If it is correct to say that the appetitive part, too, has reason, it follows that the rational element of the soul has two subdivisions: the one possesses reason in the [End Page 213] strict sense, contained within itself, and the other possesses reason in the sense that it listens to reason as one would listen to a father.(NE 1102b31-1103a)I will argue that this image of listening and persuasion is more significant for Aristotle's conceptions of voluntariness and responsibility than is often thought. The image suggests not only that Aristotle is interested in both prospective moral education and retrospective assessments of responsibility, but that a crucial (and, in the literature to this point, quite neglected) term that he offers as a gloss for understanding his conception of the voluntary—the notion of peithō or persuasion—is in fact central to his employment of the categories of praise and blame in both prospective and retrospective senses. Aristotle's use of the concept of persuasion is not merely a casual gloss, but gives him instead an unusually helpful category for understanding the range of types of action within his philosophy of agency and how they fit within the larger scheme of parts of the soul in the Ethics and the distinctions among actions that stem from virtue, vice, moral weakness, and moral strength.In what follows, I will first examine how Aristotle uses peithō to explain the related notions of the voluntary (as to hekousion is usually translated) and the noncompulsory in the Nicomachean Ethics, III.5, and the Eudemian Ethics, II.8. I will then explore how Aristotle appeals to peithō and its cognates to address one of the most vexing problems his theory of voluntary agency must work out—the problem of akrasia and enkrateia (moral weakness and moral strength)—and, next, more widely how these related concepts become relevant for his account of the parts of the soul and gradations of action.I. Persuasion and the Voluntary (EE II.8 and NE III.5)Aristotle appears to link closely the notions of voluntariness (to hekousion)and persuasion (hē peithō).Bonitz's Index takes the two terms straightforwardly... (shrink)

The paper defends three claims about Aristotle’s theory of uncontrolled actions (akrasia) in NE 7.3. First, I argue that the first part of NE 7.3 contains the description of the overall state of mind of the agent while she acts without control. Aristotle’s solution to the problem of uncontrolled action lies in the analogy between the uncontrolled agent and people who are drunk, mad, or asleep. This analogy is interpreted as meaning that the uncontrolled agent, while acting without (...) control, is still in possession of her knowledge but she is unable to use it as knowledge due to the temporary disablement of her reason by appetite. Due to this disablement, the uncontrolled agent is temporarily unable to be motivated to act by her knowledge and acts merely on her appetite. Second, I argue that the second part of NE 7.3 provides an analysis of the particular mental state from which the uncontrolled action issues. Its central passage is a description of the uncontrolled agent’s state of mind before the uncontrolled action and not, as it has been traditionally understood, a description of her state of mind during the uncontrolled action. Third, I argue that, on Aristotle’s view, the transition from the state before the uncontrolled action to the state in which the agent already acts without control does not involve any psychological state that would constitute the agent’s choice to abandon her decision and give in to her desires but proceeds on a purely physiological level. (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.

The closing chapters of Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics x are regularly described as “puzzling,” “extremely abrupt,” “awkward,” or “surprising” to readers. Whereas the previous nine books described—sometimes in lavish detail—the multifold ethical virtues of an embodied person situated within communities of family, friends, and fellow-citizens, NE x 6-8 extol the rarified, god-like and solitary existence of a sophos or sage (1179a32). The ethical virtues that take up approximately the first half of the Ethics describe moral exempla who experience fear fighting (...) for their communities, are sensitive to the esteem and recognition of others, and feel love for a desire to live together with a wide variety of kinds of friends. Such good people take pleasure in prudently expending sums to improve their communities—communities in which they exchange goods and participate in ruling and being ruled in a cooperative fashion. The exemplum of x 7-8, by contrast, is a person whose activity consists almost entirely in exercising his or her mind (nous)—a part of one’s soul that Aristotle explicitly notes is disconnected from human emotions and that can be exercised, insofar as one as wise, in a wholly solitary fashion (1178a15-16, a19-20; 1177a33-34). Although Aristotle’s claim that a “life in accord with the mind” is best and most pleasant (1178a6-7) may jar the intuitions of many people—he himself endorses Anaxagoras’ claim that the happy person will appear as “someone who is absurd” (atopos, 1179a15) to most people—it is false to claim that his conclusions in NE x 6-8 are unexpected or unanticipated, or that the text is in any way discontinuous with what precedes it. The Nicomachean Ethics exhibits aspects of ring-composition both within the work as a whole and within book 10. In NE i 5 Aristotle introduces his rendition of a trope that he inherits (most immediately) from Plato, viz. that the problem of the good can be considered like a contest between three different kinds of life—the life of enjoyment (apolaustikos), the life of politics (politikos), and the life of contemplation (theôrêtikos). NE x 6-8 returns to that contest, rendering a verdict about which life takes first, second, and third place. As the opening lines of NE x 6 note, that verdict presupposes central claims articulated between the first and last books of the Ethics, specifically about the nature of the virtues, the nature of friendship, and the nature of pleasure. NE i 5 and x 6-8 thus serve as “bookends” which encase arguments and proposition located between them. Book 10 exhibits a similar ring-composition. NE x opens with methodological reflection on the gap between the theoretical positions that thinkers articulate and the way they live their lives (especially in the case of scolds who simultaneously criticize pleasure on a scientific level but seek it on a practical level [1172a33-b8]). Chapter 8 concludes with an explicit reiteration of the methodological point, a reiteration that underscores how Aristotle’s treatment of the contest of lives incorporates central aspects of the discussion of pleasure in NE x 1-5. Aristotle’s reiteration of the problem of a gap between theory and practice also draws attention to the centrality of his treatment of pleasure in his adjudication of the three lives. Although the life of pleasure takes a distant third in the contest of lives, the contemplative life wins the contest in part because it itself is the most pleasant form of life. The central philosophical problem looming behind Aristotle’s treatment of the contest of lives concerns the relationship between the notion of activity (energeia) and the notion of a way of life (bios). In the last four decades, much of the scholarship on NE x 6-8 has sought to address the question of what activities a certain way of life includes or excludes. “Monistic” or “dominant” end interpretations of the best life have viewed it as including only contemplative activities whereas “inclusivist” end interpretations of the best life have viewed it as including non-contemplative activities. Although this chapter largely side-steps this debate—partially because there are ample recent first-rate introductory treatments of the debate, partially because I have addressed the question elsewhere in my own writing —I argue that focusing solely on the contest between the two best ways of life overshadows the way that Aristotle incorporates insights from the third way of life into the best way of life. Although the notion of a contest among different kinds of lives presupposes that the lives are mutually exclusive, Aristotle has no problem saying that the contemplative life trumps the life of pleasure because the contemplative life is more pleasant. I proceed in two parts. In the first part I examine what I will call the “outer” ring of the Ethics, namely the relationship between the contest of lives proposed in NE i 5 and its overall resolution in x 6-8. I show how i 5 and x 6 establish the framework for the contest, how x 7 adjudicates that contest in large part by relying upon premises articulated in the interim between books 1 and 10, and how x 6 and x 8 determine the second and third place positions in the contest. In the second part I focus on what I will call the “inner” ring of NE x. More than half of NE x struggles with the nature of pleasure, its role in a happy life, and the methodological problems of examining pleasure within a practical science. I show how x 1 and x 8 are “bookends” that underscore the methodological problem of examining pleasure and how the contest of lives draws upon the proximate conclusions concerning the nature of pleasure in NE x 1-5. (shrink)

We have good reason to believe that Nicomachean Ethics VI. 2 is a Nicomachean revision of an originally Eudemian text. Aristotle seems to have inserted lines 1139a31-b11 by means of a marginal note, which the first editor then mistakenly added in the wrong place, and I propose that we move these lines so that they follow the word κοινωνεῖν at 1139a20. The suggested note appears to be Nicomachean for several reasons but most importantly because it contains a desire-based account (...) of the practical intellect as teleologically oriented to action. The NE articulates consequences of this account regarding practical philosophy’s methodology and teleological orientation to action. The EE does not articulate such consequences, and instead seems to assume an object-based account of the practical intellect. Consequently, it would seem that, between the EE and the NE, Aristotle revised his conception of the practical intellect and consequently his conception of practical philosophy. (shrink)

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)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Aristotle on Thought and Feeling by Paula GottliebCorinne GartnerPaula Gottlieb. Aristotle on Thought and Feeling. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2021. Pp. 173. Hardback, $99.99.Paula Gottlieb's recent book is an illuminating, synoptic study of Aristotle's theory of human motivation, according to which his innovative notion of prohairesis (choice)—specifically, the virtuous agent's prohairesis—is the cornerstone. She argues against both Kantian-flavored readings, which prioritize reason's role in motivating (...) ethical action, and Humean-flavored readings, which emphasize the virtuous agent's well-habituated feelings. Gottlieb's account explains how the virtuous agent's prohairesis incorporates his or her feelings, desires, and thoughts, building in the motivational contributions of both the rational and nonrational parts of the psyche. The resulting treatment does justice to Aristotle's prima facie incongruous characterizations of prohairesis: on the one hand, it is the conclusion of deliberation, an explicitly rational process; on the other, it is an expression of character virtue.Although prohairesis is the unifying focus of the book, Gottlieb's project touches on a number of related controversies concerning Aristotle's ethics, including the process of moral habituation, the thorny phenomenon of akrasia, the relationship between contemplation and practically virtuous activity, and how to conceive of the connection between the aesthetic and ethical sides of to kalon (the fine). And it does so in a way that is attuned to ongoing scholarly debates without getting bogged down in them. Similarly, while she primarily concerns herself with the Nicomachean Ethics, Gottlieb helpfully draws upon material from other parts of the corpus—for example, she invokes, with appropriate caveats, Aristotle's discussion of feelings in the Rhetoric as well as De Anima. Lastly, some interesting subsidiary motifs animate the book, perhaps the most novel and provocative of which is the through line that connects her insightful understanding of eleos—which she translates, with helpful qualifications, as "sympathy" rather than "pity" (31)—with learning to be virtuous, as her fresh reading of Aristotle's Neoptolemus case exemplifies (98–102, 134–35). According to Gottlieb's hybridized picture of the good person's motivation, in the rational part of the soul the agent's wish is channeled via deliberation, which itself involves situation-specific information from the feelings, into the agent's prohairesis. In the nonrational part of the soul, the agent experiences a feeling that, strictly speaking, includes (a) a physiological component; (b) an impression of the circumstances, itself partly shaped by the agent's thought; and (c) a specific desire (chapter 2). The virtuous agent's nonrational desire will always correspond to—indeed, it, too, is channeled into—his or her prohairesis (79), the unified desiderative thought or thoughtful desire (NE VI.2, 1139b4–5), from which he or she then acts (chapter 4). The virtuous agent never experiences even mild psychic conflict, having a fully integrated soul whose two parts are in perfect harmony.At some points of Gottlieb's discussion, it seems as if all of these psychic components involved in the production of an action actually constitute the agent's prohairesis, while in other places it seems as though prohairesis is the discrete desiderative product. If one adopts the former conception, it is difficult to make sense of Aristotle's claim that the choice of the akratic agent, who acts on his or her errant nonrational desire, is correct. It turns out that the akratic agent's choice is correct because he or she has rightly judged what he or she should do, but it is distinct in composition from the good person's choice, since it does not [End Page 703] include his or her nonrational desire. One consequence of Gottlieb's view is thus that, as she indicates, the good person's prohairesis is sui generis. Another consequence is that, within the nonrational part of the soul, there may be physiological responses plus accompanying impressions (phantasiai) that, it seems, contain "motivational oomph" (40) but do not get channeled into desires. While her view avoids conflating the virtuous agent and the enkratic agent (who, despite acting correctly, experiences an occurrent nonrational desire to the contrary), there may be cases in which the virtuous... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Journal of the History of Philosophy 39.3 (2001) 437-438 [Access article in PDF] Michael V. Wedin. Aristotle's Theory of Substance: The Categories and Metaphysics Zeta. Oxford Aristotle Studies. New York: Oxford University Press, 2000. Pp. xiii + 482. Cloth, $55.00. Michael Wedin has written the equivalent for Aristotle of what biblical scholars would call a "harmony of the gospels." It is a wonderfully rich and argumentatively (...) dense reconstruction of Aristotle's two most important treatises on substance, the Categories and Metaphysics Zeta, works that many of our most able Aristotle scholars have declared irreconcilable.The first chapter, on "the plan" of the Categories, includes a sensible account of the role in that work of the "onymies," as Wedin calls homonymy, synonymy, and paronymy. The second chapter, which focuses on "nonsubstantial individuals" in the Categories, gives the most philosophically sophisticated reconstruction known to me of how Aristotle might have conceived this white in Socrates to be a nonrecurrent particular. Having myself contributed to the glut of recent scholarship on nonsubstantial individuals in the Categories, I have personal, as well as professional, reasons to praise the rigor and insight of this chapter.In Chapter 3 Wedin tries to pin down the ontological commitment of Aristotle's Categories. Since, if there were no primary substances there would not be anything else, the fundamental ontological commitment of the Categories is a commitment to primary substances. Individual nonsubstances exist just in case there are primary substances in which they inhere. As for species and genera of substances and species and genera of the nonsubstantial individuals that inhere in them, Wedin finds Aristotle curiously indifferent to their existence.Chapter 4, a transitional chapter, takes up a range of possible views on the relation between the Categories and Metaphysics Zeta. Incompatibilism is argued against, yet the arguments for compatibilism in recent commentaries are found to be insufficient. In the next chapter Wedin moves on to his own statement of, and justification for, compatibilism.The key to Wedin's compatibilist interpretation is the distinction he draws between being a substance and being the "substance-of" something. Zeta can then be seen to be supplementing, rather than revising, let alone contradicting, the Categories, if Zeta can be understood to be about the substance-of the primary substances of the Categories (157-8).Aristotle proposes in Z3 three candidates for what the substance of, say, Socrates, is, namely, his matter, his form, and the compound of the two. Aristotle settles on form and discusses form as essence in Z4 and Z5, which discussion Wedin takes up in his own [End Page 437] Chapter 6. Then in Chapter 7 Wedin takes on the enigmatic claim of Z6, "In the case of things that are primary and spoken of per se, it is clear that the thing and the essence of the thing are the same" (1032a4-6).Wedin makes Chapter 8, which is primarily a treatment of Z10 and Z11, a discussion of Aristotle on "compositional plasticity," that is, on whether, say, the form of human being might be realized in something other than flesh and bones. "[O]ne could grant," Wedin writes, that to be a human being is just to be a member of a determinate biological species and so to have a very specific material nature, and yet insist that the form of such creatures be realizable in quite different sorts of matter. Creatures so constituted would not be human beings but they would be entities with similar functional capacities and states... From the point of view of philosophy of mind, for example, what matters are the psychological capacities, functions, and states characteristic of persons. Just what these are is determined by a form—the form that happens to be realized in human matter. (340-41) In Chapter 9 Wedin turns to Z13, which, as he acknowledges, has often been thought to be the most confounding chapter in Zeta. Wedin draws on Z16 to help resolve the aporia with which Z13 ends (roughly this... (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.

L'État pluriculturel est devenu un concept majeur du début du XXIe siècle, tant au Nord qu'au Sud de la planète. La plupart des États sont confrontés à l'éveil ou à l'affirmation des différentes cultures des différentes communautés en leur sein. Pour nos sociétés plurielles, voici venu le temps des droits aux différences. En réalité, devant ce phénomène universel, les positions de l'État varient : il aménage la coexistence des communautés culturelles ; ou il ne veut pas les connaître. Entre ces (...) deux pôles, bien des nuances existent, du refus des différences à leur tolérance, et enfin à leur reconnaissance. La France est un exemple typique de déchirement : elle est arc-boutée sur le principe fondateur de la République une et indivisible, mais elle prévoit à ce principe de telles exceptions qu'elle est en plein bouleversement. Comment l'État démocratique va-t-il régir sa pluriculturalité? Comment les différentes options praticables peuvent-elles, chacune, impliquer une part de cohésion et une part de fragmentation sociale? Comment concilier droits à la différence et droit à l'indifférence? De telles questions ne peuvent être traitées qu'en analysant les diverses expériences. C'est ce que fait le présent ouvrage, publiant les travaux d'un colloque tenu à Nouméa en juillet 2002, avec la participation de juristes et de politistes, d'anthropologues et de tous chercheurs en sciences sociales en général. Les États les plus divers, de tous les continents, sont analysés. Les expériences de contextes extrêmement contrastés sont évoquées : les différences ont un long chemin à faire, pour s'affirmer en droit. Le cas très particulier de la Nouvelle-Calédonie est approfondi : à la fois symbole de la France pluriculturelle et consécration d'institutions fortement dérogatoires. Cet ouvrage est une contribution au code universel du Vivre ensemble. (shrink)

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)