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CONTENTS
A r i s t o t l e o n P r i m a r y T i m e i n Physics 6 149
BENJAMIN MORISON
E l e m e n t a l S t r u c t u r e a n d the T r a n s f o r m a t i o n o f the
E l e m e n t s i n On Generation and Corruption 2. 4 195
MARY KRIZAN
Essence a n d B e i n g : A D i s c u s s i o n o f M i c h a i l Peramatzis,
Priority in Aristotle's Metaphysics 341
MARKO MALINK
NALY THALER
perceptual judgements, has been the cause of some puzzlement. Since such a dis
tinction seems absent from the theory of perception, commentators usually treat
it as merely a manner of speech devoid of any real philosophical significance. One
exception is M . Burnyeat, The Theaetetus of Plato, w i t h a revised translation by
M . J. Levett [Theaetetus] (Indianapolis, 1990), 42—52, who claims that the phras
ing is intentional and provides the key to understanding the motivation behind the
subsequent radicalization of flux at 181 D 8—182 A 2. I n the course of my discussion,
I shall argue that Burnyeat is right to attach significance to the precise phrasing of
Socrates' claim, but that his own interpretation of it is mistaken.
2 Naly Thaler
6
I n what follows I shall repeatedly use the expression 'scientific theory' to refer
to the flux doctrine and to theories which are relevantly similar to it. While there
are notable differences between the kind of account provided by the flux theory and
'science' in the modern sense of the word, my insistence on the use of the term 'sci
entific' i n the present context is motivated by the need to bring to the fore the fact
that the general and abstract terminological apparatus introduced by the flux doc
trine is intended as an explanation of the world of everyday experience.
Plato on the Importance of 'This' and 'That' 5
we take the f a m i l i a r p h e n o m e n o n o f c o n f l i c t i n g p e r c e p t u a l j u d g e
ments i n (3) (either y o u say 'this stone is large/heavy' w h i l e I say
'this stone is s m a l l / l i g h t ' o n the same occasion r e f e r r i n g to the same
object, or I m y s e l f p r o n o u n c e these c o n f l i c t i n g j u d g e m e n t s about
the same object o n different occasions) as evidence for a n o v e l the
9
10
rj ov Siioxvpioaio av at 154 A 3 introduces a counterfactual whose truth would be
implied by the rejection of the theory's account of perception. I f Theaetetus accepts
the t r u t h of what follows he w i l l be bound to accept the truth of the theory.
8 Naly Thaler
Theatetus' agreement to the claim that he does not stay the same over time
11
might follow from his previous agreement in 153 B that life requires constant change.
EKOIOTOV -£P<X>ILO, i n 154 A 4 could be taken as part of the innocuous suggestion
1 3
that not all colours appear the same to people and animals, or of the substantially
stronger one that no colour appears to them the same.
T h i s is the force of OTIOVV at 154 A 7.
13
1 6
While Burnyeat sees that the preceding argument actually concludes that no two
perceptions are qualitatively identical (see n. 15 above), he ignores this i n his analysis
of the connection between the argument and the theory it is meant to support (i.e.
that nothing has any property i n itself). According to Burnyeat, 'Appearances', 78—
9, the connection between the argument and the theory relies on the premiss that if
it ever happens that an object appears F and not-F to different perceivers, it cannot
be F/not-F i n itself. T h i s premiss, as Burnyeat shows, translates into the blatantly
un-commonsensical condition that i f an object really is F it must always appear F to
all perceivers, a condition which, Burnyeat claims, makes an explicit appearance i n
154 B 2—3. Against Burnyeat's interpretation I would like to suggest that i f we take
seriously the conclusion that an object never appears the same to any two perceivers,
the connection w i t h the theory could be made on the basis of the much weaker and
more commonsensical condition that i f an object really is F it must at least sometimes
appear F to distinct perceivers. Note that my suggestion depends on understanding
OVKOVV el [X€v cb napafxerpov^xeOa r) ov icfxiTTTOfxeOa / x e y a r) XevKov r) Oepfxov r\v, OVK av ITOTE
aXXqj TTpooneoov aXXo av eyeyovei i n 154 B 2—3 as meaning roughly ' i f that which we
measure ourselves against or that which we touch were large or white or hot, it would
never have become different when bumping into different perceivers', where the ge
nerality of the phenomenon i n question is read into this claim due to the conclusion
of the previous argument. Burnyeat's reading takes this sentence more literally as
meaning that i f an object really were large etc. it would never (i.e. even once) become
different by bumping into a different perceiver. T h i s more literal reading of 154 B
2—3 has the detriment of making the preceding argument in 154 A 3—8 redundant.
1 7
For an analysis showing that the option being presented and dismissed i n this
second part of the argument is that the eye itself is white (rather than merely seeing
the colour white), see Burnyeat, Appearances', 80.
IO Naly Thaler
1 9
For a clear account of the incoherence of the causal account see J. M . Day, ' T h e
Theory of Perception i n Plato's Theaetetus 152—183' ['Perception'], Oxford Studies
in Ancient Philosophy, 15 (1997), 51—80 at 65—70.
Plato on the Importance of 'This' and 'That' 13
t i o n w h i c h corresponds to the n e w l y i n t r o d u c e d clarification o f the
d i s t i n c t i o n between parents a n d offspring. T h e t h e o r y claims that
offspring are referred to b y the names o f abstract properties such as
'whiteness', 'hardness', 'hotness', etc., w h i l e t h e i r parents are qua
lified b y the adjectival cognates o f these names, and are spoken o f as
' w h i t e ' , ' h a r d ' , or ' h o t ' things. T h i s d i s t i n c t i o n , w h i c h , as we shall
presently see, plays a p i v o t a l role i n the theory, b e t w e e n abstract
qualities a n d the t h i n g s qualified b y t h e m , i n effect corresponds to
the d i s t i n c t i o n between t h e o r y a n d experience. I n t h a t sense at least,
the m e c h a n i s m described i n ( C 2 ) is u n a m b i g u o u s . T h e w o r l d as we
encounter i t i n experience consists o f qualified objects whose p r o
perties, a c c o r d i n g to the theory, are i n constant flux. T h e i n t e n t o f
(C2) is to p r o v i d e some f o r m o f account o f the genesis o f this ever-
s h i f t i n g experience. T h e use o f abstract nouns ('whiteness', ' h a r d
ness') to refer to perceptual properties is an i n t e g r a l p a r t o f that
account, and is m e a n t to p r o v i d e a coherent e x p l a n a t i o n o f h o w per
ceptual experience comes about. B u t w h e n i t comes to the descrip
t i o n (rather t h a n the e x p l a n a t i o n ) o f people's actual experiences,
Socrates takes care to use o n l y adjectives. I n this way, parents,20
3 0
For the claim that the use of adjectives in Socrates' description of the theory is
confined to the world of perceptual experience, see also M . Burnyeat, 'Plato on the
Grammar of Perceiving', Classical Quarterly, NS 26 (1976), 29—51 at 44.
14 Naly Thaler
same time, does n o t lose sight o f the fact that they are n o t o n t o l o -
gically p r i o r to i t . 2 1
3 1
T h i s view is, I believe, close i n spirit to the one suggested by Burnyeat
{Theaetetus, 17—18). I n order to alleviate somewhat the misgivings one might have
about the theory's casting of what we today would regard as abstractions i n the
role of explanatory entities, I should like to point out the following: one might
be committed to the use of abstraction as a method of discovery without holding
that the results of this method are 'mere' abstractions, i.e. that they have no added
epistemic value. We can see a good example of this elsewhere i n the Theaetetus:
the discussion of the Dream Theory m 201 D 8—206 B 11, which takes phonemes
as paradigms for the elements of perceptual reality, shows that phonemes are
explanatory of syllabic sounds but are nevertheless not ontologically distinct from
their explananda. While phonemes are treated as inherent aspects of voiced sound,
their discovery is considered a real scientific advance which allows one to attain
a knowledgeable outlook on that particular sphere of perceptual experience (for
this interpretation of the Dream Theory see my 'Taking the Syllable Apart: The
Theaetetus on Elements and Knowledge', Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy, 41
(2012), 201-28).
3 3
Note how careful Socrates is to remain faithful to the distinction between nouns
and adjectives in his generalization. Since he is generalizing over a fact relevant to
the world of perceptual experience, he confines himself to the use of adjectives such
as 'hard' and 'hot' (156 E 8).
Plato on the Importance of 'This' and 'That' 1
5
sometimes change its i d e n t i t y a n d come to b e l o n g to the genus o f
' p e r c e p t i o n ' instead o f ' t h i n g perceived'. Since the l i n g u i s t i c re
strictions are supposed to f o l l o w d i r e c t l y f r o m the theory's c o m
m i t m e n t s , they s h o u l d be l i m i t e d to the w o r l d o f particulars. I f the
l i n g u i s t i c restrictions are o f a w i d e r scope t h a n this there is no es
c a p i n g the conclusion that they are s i m p l y u n f o u n d e d . 23
3 3
Sedley, Midwife, who advocates an unrestricted scope for the linguistic re
strictions i n (C3), does not explain why the theory's commitment to a limited flux
should lead it to such an extreme view about language. He appeals instead (93—4) to
Theodorus' description of the Heraclitean philosophers' modes of speech i n 179 E—
180 c, which, he claims, supports an unrestricted reading of the theory's linguistic
claims. But regardless of the question whether Plato introduced the erratic speech of
the Heracliteans as a joke or as having direct bearing on the discussion, Theodorus'
description of them cannot serve as a substitute for some account of why the flux
theory can legitimately endorse their radical linguistic practices.
3 4
I f we take TOV as co-ordinate w i t h ejiov, it too w i l l signify a restriction on speak
ing of a property as belonging to a determinate particular.
i6 Naly Thaler
35
The collections 'man' and 'stone' are commonly, and in my opinion rightly, i n
terpreted as individual men and stones, which are bundles of individual perceptual
properties, and not as the general kind 'man' and 'stone', which are collections of
individual men and stones. For the particularist interpretation see Cornford, Know
ledge, 48; Bostock, Theaetetus, 68—78; Day, 'Perception', 60—1. For the opposing
view see L . Campbell, The Theaetetus of Plato, 2nd edn. (Oxford, 1883), 62, and
L. Brown, 'Understanding the Theaetetus' ['Understanding'], Oxford Studies in An
cient Philosophy, 11 (1993), 199—224 at 207—8.
36
ouS' av TrpooeiTTOis 6p9cos ouS'
TL r t (152 D 2—3).
OTTOIOVOVV
Plato on the Importance of 'This' and 'That' 17
i n g w h a t k i n d a t h i n g i s . W e can n o w u n d e r s t a n d precisely w h a t
27
3 1
Contra Silverman, 'Flux', 139, who claims that i f the theory does not ban such
statements Socrates' refutation w i l l not succeed. Silverman's claims pertain to flux
after its radicalization i n 181 c—182 A. But, as I shall show in what follows, at no time
is a ban on abstract concepts included i n the theory's linguistic commitments.
3 3
One should note that i f the linguistic restrictions espoused by the theory were
meant to apply to assertions about general concepts and were not limited to per
ceptual particulars as I am suggesting, the result would have been a straightforward
and immediately apparent refutation of Theaetetus' definition of knowledge. A l l that
would be required to achieve this would be to point out that the metaphysical theory
his definition accepts as a support undermines the possibility of framing that same
definition. Consequently, there would be no real need for the elaborate multi-step
argument Socrates introduces at 182c 1—183 B 5.
Plato on the Importance of 'This' and 'That' 19
t r i b u t e d to any perceived particular. B u t this m e r e l y reinforces the
idea t h a t change itself is always applicable to i t . I f n o p a r t i c u l a r has
any determinate p r o p e r t y or i d e n t i t y o f its o w n , this e n d u r i n g fact
about i t can be c a p t u r e d b y saying t h a t i t is i n h e r e n t l y a c h a n g i n g
thing. 3 3
II
3 3
This, I believe, reinforces my suggestion (n. 18) as to why Socrates' account i n
(C) reverts from the earlier 'everything is i n change' to 'everything is change'. The
former description still takes for granted the folk ontology of identifiable particular
objects and their inherent properties. But since according to the detailed account
in (C) no particular object stably belongs to any general category other than that of
change, it is i n some sense more appropriate to say that everything that exists is (a
form of) change than that it is some determinate thing which undergoes change.
3 4
Note that immediately after introducing the restrictions, Socrates claims on be
half of the theory that anyone who does not follow the restrictions, and instead makes
things stand still in speech, is easily refuted (o>? i d v r t rt? orr/ay TCU Adyaj, eveXeyKros
6 TOVTO 7roicov, 157 B 7—8). What he means, I think, is not that it w i l l be easy to refute
20 Naly Thaler
support a Protagorean position according to which objects really are as they seem to
each perceiver (a position she labels 'infallibilism'). She claims (against Burnyeat's
view) that the theory does not object to the idea that an object perceived as white
really is so, but only to the idea that it is so i n itself (which, according to Fine, means
something like 'is stably white'). But this interpretation stands i n flat contradiction
to the theory's proposed linguistic restrictions, which ban all statements such as 'this
stone is white'. I n fact, these restrictions show that, contrary to Fine's claims, there is
no real difference for the theory between an object's being white and its being white
in itself. T h e theory's claim, which was made in (A) and (B), that nothing has any
property i n itself is just the theoretical corollary to the claim i n (C3) that one cannot
use the verb 'to be' on any specific occasion to describe the contents of one's percep
tual experience. For a similar misconstrual of the theory's linguistic restrictions see
L . Castagnoli, Ancient Self-Refutation {Refutation] (Cambridge, 2010), 211—12, who
claims that 'on that theory [i.e. the original secret doctrine] whenever I was seeing
the stone as white I was entitled to say . . . "The stone is white", and my utterance
would have been incorrigible for me.'
22 Naly Thaler
3 9
Remember that in this first part of the dialogue, knowledge is mainly tied to the
idea of irrefutability (152c 5-6; 179 c I - D 1).
4 0
One of the benefits of the interpretation I am offering is that it dissolves the
difficulty of seeing how the flux theory, which is meant to support the idea that per
ceptions are true only relative to each perceiver, can itself be presented as an absolute
truth about perception. For statements of the difficulty see Silverman, 'Flux', 120;
G. Fine, 'Protagorean Relativisms' i n ead., Plato, 132—59 at 142—3.
Plato on the Importance of 'This' and 'That' 23
III
A c c o r d i n g to this i n t e r p r e t a t i o n , b y c o n s t r u i n g b o t h perceptions
a n d t h e i r p r o p e r objects as essentially p r i v a t e affairs, the o r i g i n a l
f o r m u l a t i o n o f the flux t h e o r y was able to show that n o external
c r i t e r i a c o u l d ever be used i n order to cast d o u b t o n the veracity
o f one's perceptions. B u t now, i n the course o f the e x a m i n a t i o n o f
the flux theory, Socrates a n d T h e o d o r u s come to realize that the
41
For an argument against the validity of foisting on the flux theorists a radical
version of flux see McDowell, Theaetetus, 180.
4 3
The interpretation was first suggested by Burnyeat, Theaetetus, 49—51, and has
been supported by N . Denyer, Language, Thought and Falsehood in Greek Philosophy
(London, 1991), 102—3; Sedley Midwife, 92—3; and, Day, 'Perception', 77.
24 Naly Thaler
4 3
See Brown, 'Understanding', 212, and M . - K . Lee, Epistemology after
Protagoras: Responses to Relativism in Plato, Aristotle, and Democritus [Episte
mology] (Oxford, 2005), 116—17, for the same worry about the 'epistemological'
solution.
Plato on the Importance of 'This' and 'That' 25
p a r t i c u l a r s . A f a i t h f u l disciple o f the t h e o r y o f change w i l l there
fore n o t even u t t e r to himself, u p o n an instance o f p e r c e p t i o n , an
expression such as 'this stick is w h i t e ' . So the p u r p o r t e d p r o b l e m
4 4
4 4
Remember also that according to the argument i n (B) (154 A 7—8), an i n d i v i
dual is wrong to suppose that he is experiencing the same perception on two distinct
occasions. This means that the correctives which the theory proposes to ordinary
speech about perception also pertain to determinate assertions (i.e. ones using 'this'
and 'is') made i n private about the nature of a particular perceptual experience. The
linguistic restrictions imply that the assertion a perceiver uses to express his percep
tual experience ('this stone is white') is false even when he utters it once and only to
himself.
4 5
T h i s is one strong reason to doubt Burnyeat's interpretation of 179 c 2—5,
which I mentioned at the outset of this paper (see n. 1 above). Burnyeat claims
that the distinction alluded to i n those lines between perceptions and perceptual
judgements provides the basis for the alleged later worry about private judgements
about perceptual experience being erroneous. As should now be clear, the construal
of Theaetetus' definition according to the secret doctrine makes any such distinction
impossible.
26 Naly Thaler
t i o n is to be d i s t i n g u i s h e d f r o m t h a t o f the o r d i n a r y m a n , they m u s t
go one better, and c l a i m t h a t b o t h f o r m s o f change are constant and
u b i q u i t o u s . T h e t u g o f war between the c h a m p i o n s o f rest and
46
(1) since not even this remains, that the flowing thing flows white, but i t
changes, so that (2) there is a flow of this thing also, of whiteness, and a
change of it into another colour, lest i t be convicted of staying still i n this
respect, (3) is i t ever possible to call anything by the name colour, so that
this naming w i l l also be correct? (182D 1-5)
p a r t i c u l a r instance o f i t .5 0
4 9
M c D o w e l l , Theaetetus, 181—4; Silverman, 'Flux', 141.
5 0
Bostock, Theaetetus, 104; Burnyeat, Theaetetus, 51; Sedley, Midwife, 92; Casta-
gnoli, Refutation, 210, 211.
51
A common corollary of the interpretation of the flowing thing as the property
whiteness is the idea that the distinction between spatial motion and qualitative al
teration is meant to be understood as equivalent to the earlier distinction between
fast and slow changes which had accounted for the difference between offspring and
parents (see e.g. M c D o w e l l , Theaetetus, 181; Sedley, Midwife, 92—3; Castagnoli, Re
futation, 209—10). According to this line of thought, by accepting that everything
both moves and alters the theory must now accept that qualities (i.e. fast changes)
such as whiteness do not only travel i n space but also alter qualitatively. But, as has
been noted in the past (see Campbell, Theaetetus, 58—9, 147; Day, 'Perception', 64),
the identification of slow change w i t h qualitative alteration and of fast change w i t h
spatial motion is unlikely because of the verbal inconsistencies it creates (spatial mo
tion is described i n terms which echo the earlier description of the slow motion of the
Plato on the Importance of 'This' and 'That' 29
parents). I n addition, as I have argued, the distinction between motion and alteration
does not refer to any internal feature of the original theory, but rather to the logical
requirements of a position which is the contrary of that espoused by Parmenides and
Melissus.
5 3
M c D o w e l l , Theaetetus, 183, who is aware of the discrepancy between his inter
pretation and the theory's repeated insistence that we use colour adjectives to refer to
qualified objects and not to their properties, nevertheless claims that since whiteness
is described by the theory as an efflux of colour ' i t would seem quite natural to say
that such an efflux is white'. This, I believe, is seriously mistaken. First, the efflux
of colour does not deserve to be designated 'white' since it is not anything which
is perceived by anyone. As we have seen, property adjectives are used by the the
ory to designate phenomena that are always perceiver-dependent. T h e efflux which
constitutes whiteness is a scientific construct meant to explain these phenomena and
which need not have any colour at all in order to fulfil that function. I n fact, i f the
efflux is itself white, we must now ask how it came to be so qualified. Answering
this question would necessitate positing another set of motions, and then of course
(assuming the new colour efflux between them can legitimately be called 'white' as
well) another, ad infinitum.
5 3
I n fact, there is positive evidence that Socrates does remain true to the distinc
tion in these opening lines of the refutation. I n his claim, at 182 c 9—10, that if things
only moved but did not also alter we would have been able to say i n some way w i t h
what quality they flow, the expression ' w i t h what quality they flow' (ota arret pel ra
(jyepofAeva) fairly clearly picks up the earlier 'they become qualified in some way' (ra
\xlv ITOI arra yiyveoQai) i n 182 B 6—7, which forms part of the reiteration of the flux
theory's basic principles. T h i s earlier expression clearly refers to one of the parents
of perception (i.e. to perceptible objects). Moreover, it immediately follows the ex
plicit distinction between qualities and qualified things made in 182 A 8—B 3, which
is used to differentiate between offspring and parents.
30 Naly Thaler
5 4
I t seems to me that when viewed from a pragmatic perspective, the radica
lization of the linguistic commitments of flux is actually m i l d , to the point of be
ing almost an entailment of these original commitments. This is because assertions
which would previously have been sanctioned by the theory ('the flowing thing flows
white') are, from a pragmatic point of view, mere pseudo-assertions. While they re
tain a proper syntactic structure, their inherent indefiniteness makes asserting them
an exercise in futility. The idea underlying the radicalization of the linguistic i m p l i
cations of flux might be that i f we ban determinate terms such as 'this' and 'is', and
so confine ourselves to locutions which cannot in principle be contradicted, we u n
wittingly deprive ourselves of the assertive force that statements usually carry. Seen
this way, the radicalization of the theory merely crystallizes an inherent feature of
its original commitments.
32 Naly Thaler
55
I take the ware kcu i n 182 D 2 as introducing a consequence of the fact, men
tioned i n 182 D 1—2, that the flowing thing does not abide as white. As I have claimed,
commentators on this passage take what follows the conjunction as merely explica
tive of that fact, apparently taking avrov TOVTOV m 182 D 2 as referring back to the
flowing thing which does not abide as white, and then elucidating it i n 182 D 3 as
TTJS XevKorr/Tos. But this reading downplays or even disregards the /eat which makes
T h e t r a n s i t i o n f r o m ( i ) to (2), t h e n , f o l l o w s s t r a i g h t f o r w a r d l y
from the t h e o r y ' s explanatory scheme i n t r o d u c e d i n ( C 2 ) . A n d
since the r e l a t i o n o f w h i t e t h i n g s t o the p r o p e r t y w h i t e n e s s is
m e r e l y one instance o f a general r u l e r e g a r d i n g the r e l a t i o n o f
c o l o u r e d objects t o t h e i r c o r r e s p o n d i n g c o l o u r - p r o p e r t y o f f s p r i n g ,
Socrates can take h i m s e l f t o have s h o w n t h a t now, after the r a d i -
c a l i z a t i o n o f f l u x , we have lost the r i g h t to speak n o t o n l y o f a l l
p a r t i c u l a r l y c o l o u r e d ( f l o w i n g ) t h i n g s , b u t also o f a l l t h e i r corres
p o n d i n g colour properties i n abstraction f r o m them. I r e t u r n n o w
t o o u r passage. F r o m (2) Socrates n o w derives:
I take it that this change of the basic character of whiteness is what is meant by
5 7
eiv, which I take to mean ' w i l l i t be possible to call anything "colour" in a way that
this naming w i l l also be correct?': Cornford has 'can we ever give i t [the white thing]
the name of any colour and be sure that we are naming it rightly?', a translation
which makes this stage of the argument completely redundant, since its conclusion
is now identical to what is i n fact its premiss. M c D o w e l l and Burnyeat/Levett, who
take Socrates' question as extending the problem of naming whiteness to all colour
species, have 'can i t ever be possible to refer to any colour m such a way as to be
speaking of i t rightly?' and 'is i t possible to give any name to a colour which w i l l
properly apply to it?' respectively, both taking TI as qualifying xp^^- While their
construal is possible, my reading, which takes the TI as the object of -npoaei-neiv, re
ceives some support from what immediately follows at 182 E 4: there we read o u r e
apa opdv 7Tpoopr/T€ov TI jiaXXov rj [iri opdv, which clearly means 'one should not then
also call anything "seeing" rather than "not seeing"', and in which the TI functions as
the object of 7Tpoopr/T€ov, corresponding to how I take i t i n the present phrase. One
should also note that L S J (who presumably have no preconceptions about which
translation is required to make sense of the argument) translate this phrase precisely
as I have in their entry on •npoaei-nu).
Contra Campbell, Theaetetus, 133; Bostock, Theaetetus, 105; Cornford,
5 9
Know
ledge, 96.
34 Naly Thaler
Midwife, 95.
Plato on the Importance of 'This' and 'That' 35
T h e a r g u m e n t proceeds as follows. Socrates generalizes c l a i m
(3), that the concept ' c o l o u r ' has n o definite sense so as to a p p l y
to a l l perceptible p r o p e r t y k i n d s , so that:
6 1
The alternative to my interpretation, adopted by most commentators, is simply
to claim that the attack on 'seeing' is warranted by the fact that the theory has by this
point admitted that everything is in radical flux, and this should include not only
qualities but also modalities of perception ( M c D o w e l l , Theaetetus, 181; Bostock,
Theaetetus, 100; Sedley, Midwife, 95—6; Castagnoli, Refutation, 212). But this i n
terpretation takes 182 D 1—E 3 and 182 E 4—12 as two disconnected bits of argumen
tation, the first having no relevance for the second, both merely providing parallel
instances or entailments of radical flux. T h i s result seems to me undesired, since it
makes 182 D 1—E 3 completely redundant for securing the conclusion i n 182 E 11—12,
whereas the text gives every impression that a continuous argument is being dis
played i n 182 D 1—E 12.
36 Naly Thaler
(6) T h e c l a i m that k n o w l e d g e is i d e n t i c a l w i t h p e r c e p t i o n , no
m o r e affirms this i d e n t i f i c a t i o n t h a n denies i t . (182 E 8-12)
6 3
Sedley, Midwife, 97, is aware of this problem. His proposed solution is that the
actual argumentation ends at (4), and that we are meant simply to assume that i f no
specific kind of perception endures, neither can the genus 'perception'. But Sedley
himself raises a good objection to this interpretation: i f seeing constantly changes to
hearing or touching and so forth, why should we not be entitled to say that percep
tion as such does endure, albeit not as seeing, hearing, touching, etc.? His answer
to this objection is that the flux ontology does not recognize the existence of inde
pendent genera. But surely, this correct observation about the theory's ontology is
irrelevant to the suggestion that we can speak about perception as the determinate
genus of a certain limited number of more specific though non-enduring indeter
minate activities. The only solution to the problem of the transition from (4) to the
conclusion that we cannot mean anything determinate by saying 'perception' is to
accept the central role PP plays i n the argument, and bear in mind that it is being
applied to a hierarchic conceptual field to which the flux theory is committed.
6 3
I n this I am in agreement w i t h Sedley, Midwife, 98, who points out that all i n -
Plato on the Importance of 'This' and 'That' 37
is t h a t the theory's v i e w about p a r t i c u l a r s u n d e r m i n e s n o t o n l y its
a b i l i t y to l e n d s u p p o r t to Theaetetus' d e f i n i t i o n , b u t also the pos
s i b i l i t y o f its o w n statement as a determinate dialectical p o s i t i o n .
B u t i n fact, Socrates continues, to be even m o r e precise, even
such simultaneous affirmations a n d denials o f general assertions
m u s t be f o r b i d d e n u n d e r the a s s u m p t i o n o f flux (183 A I O - B 4 ) .
T h i s is apparently because these affirmations a n d denials presup
pose t h a t the assertion to w h i c h they a p p l y has some determinate
sense—precisely w h a t the a r g u m e n t denies t h e m . W h a t is b e i n g
p r e - e m p t e d here is, I t h i n k , a possible r e p l y b y the Heracliteans to
the c l a i m t h a t t h e i r t h e o r y entails its o w n c o n t r a d i c t o r y . T h i s r e p l y
w o u l d concede (as t h e i r o r i g i n a l p o s i t i o n does n o t ) t h a t n o t o n l y
i n d i v i d u a l perceptions b u t c o n f l i c t i n g general assertions too are s i
m u l t a n e o u s l y t r u e . Socrates takes care to t h w a r t such a r e p l y b y
6 4
IV
stances of 'answer' i n the dialogue refer to dialectical question and answering which
is centred on the investigation of general truths.
6 4
Castagnoli, Refutation, 214—15, also takes this as a response to Heracliteans, who
might not be bothered by the idea of making simultaneously contradictory state
ments. But he thinks that these contradictory assertions w i l l be about perceptual
particulars, not about general matters of fact, taking O U T O J as 'a place-holder for qua
litative attributes like "white"'.
38 Naly Thaler
fic p e r c e p t u a l attributes o f objects, such as ' h o t ' , ' h a r d ' , ' l i g h t ' , and
'sweet', whose grasp i t is reasonable to refer to one o f the b o d i l y
senses (184 E 5 - 7 ) , f r o m ' c o m m o n ' properties (i.e. those w h i c h ap
p l y i n c o m m o n to objects o f d i s t i n c t senses) such as ' i s ' , 'are', ' d i f
ferent', ' i d e n t i c a l ' , ' t w o ' , 'one', whose grasp cannot be traced to any
6 5
M y reading of 184 B 2—186 E 12 agrees in its fundamental points w i t h the i n
terpretation given i n H . Lorenz, The Brute Within: Appetitive Desire in Plato and
Aristotle [Brute] (Oxford, 2006).
Plato on the Importance of 'This' and 'That' 39
p a r t i c u l a r b o d i l y sense, and m u s t be a t t r i b u t e d to the soul w o r k i n g
t h r o u g h itself (185 A 8—E 2 ) . I t t h e n t u r n s o u t , o n closer examina
6 6
Theaetetus is s t i l l i n t e n t o n r e t a i n i n g his i d e n t i f i c a t i o n o f k n o w
ledge w i t h p e r c e p t i o n . F o l l o w i n g the r e f u t a t i o n o f flux, the n o t i o n
of p e r c e p t i o n i n v o l v e d i n this d e f i n i t i o n m u s t be taken to m e a n a
f u l l y specific perceptual j u d g e m e n t w h i c h attributes a p r o p e r t y to
a determinate object. B u t now, a l l t h a t is left for Socrates to do is to
show t h a t c o n s t r u e d i n this way, whatever t r u t h there is i n percep
t i o n w i l l t u r n o u t to be a f u n c t i o n o f the r a t i o n a l , n o n - p e r c e p t u a l ,
element w h i c h always accompanies j u d g e m e n t s o f any k i n d .
I n the l i g h t o f this i t is profitable, I believe, to read the t w o c o n
secutive refutations o f Theaetetus' d e f i n i t i o n , i n 181 B 8-183 B 5
and 184 B 2-186 E 12, as t w o h o r n s o f a u n i f i e d a r g u m e n t . T o g e t h e r
they are m e a n t to refute the c l a i m t h a t p e r c e p t i o n is k n o w l e d g e b y
s h o w i n g t h a t i t is untenable u n d e r t w o alternative conceptions o f
w h a t p e r c e p t i o n is. T h e a r g u m e n t against flux shows t h a t i t is u n
tenable i f p e r c e p t i o n is taken to fall b e l o w the t h r e s h o l d o f deter
m i n a t e j u d g e m e n t s . T h e a r g u m e n t i n 184 B 2-186 E 12 shows i t is
70
untenable w h e n p e r c e p t i o n is a l t e r n a t i v e l y c o n s t r u e d i n the f o r m o f
a determinate p e r c e p t u a l j u d g e m e n t . 71
BIBLIOGRAPHY
MATTHEW DUNCOMBE
i . E x i s t i n g approaches to the G D
(Pi) Because, Socrates, I think that you, and anyone else who posits that
there is some essence of each thing itself by itself [Sons avrrjv riva
KO.6' avrrjv IKCLOTOV ova'uxv rWnrai nhai], would agree, first, that none
of them is among us [ev rj/iiv]. (133 c 3-5).
Plato's Relative Terms 45
(P2) Therefore, all the Ideas which are what they are i n relation to each
other [ooxu TCOV l&eaiv -rrpos dAAijAay elalv ai elaiv\ have their essence
[oucrtav] i n relation to themselves [npos avras], not i n relation to the
things among us, by partaking i n which we are called after each of
them, whether one posits these as likenesses or i n some other way.
(133 c 8-D 2)
(P3) But these things among us [TO 8e Trap'rjiiiv ravra] which have the same
names as each of those are, again, themselves i n relation to themselves
but not i n relation to the Forms [npos avra eanv dAA' 01! npos TO. eiS-q],
and all the things which are named i n this way are of themselves and
not of those things. (133 D 2-5)
T h e c o n s t r u a l o f t h i s h i g h l y compressed a r g u m e n t is c o n t e n t i o u s .
I n d e e d , there is n o a g r e e m e n t as to w h a t the p r i n c i p a l c o n c l u s i o n
is s u p p o s e d to be, let alone w h e t h e r the G D v a l i d l y derives its c o n
c l u s i o n . O n e answer is t h a t the G D aims t o s h o w t h a t there is r a
d i c a l separation o f F o r m s f r o m p a r t i c i p a n t s : the u n k n o w a b i l i t y o f
the F o r m s w o u l d f o l l o w as a c o r o l l a r y o f t h i s r a d i c a l separation. I
reject t h i s ' r a d i c a l separation' r e a d i n g because i f i t were c o r r e c t the
G D w o u l d become an u n e x p l a i n e d p e t i t i o p r i n c i p i i . A n o t h e r answer
I d i s c o u n t is t h a t the G D aims to s h o w t h a t the F o r m s are u n k n o w
able b y an a r g u m e n t f r o m analogy. I t fails because the G D a c t u a l l y
has f o u r s i g n i f i c a n t consequences, n o t j u s t one. B u t let us b e g i n w i t h
the r a d i c a l separation reading.
3
Even i f I am correct and the argument relies on a principle of separation between
Forms and participants, there is no agreement on which of several possible principles
of separation is relied upon i n the argument. T o see the diversity of approach, com
pare F. M . Cornford, Plato and Parmenides: Parmenides' Way of T r u t h and Plato's
Parmenides. Translated with an Introduction and with a Running Commentary ( L o n
don, 1939), 99; H . F. Cherniss, Aristotle's Criticism of Plato and the Academy [Cri
ticism], 2 vols. (London, 1962), i . 284; W. G. Runciman, Plato's Later Epistemo-
logy [Epistemology] (Cambridge, 1962), 159; W. J. Prior, Unity and Development in
Plato's Metaphysics [Unity] (LaSalle, 1985), 75—6; M . M . McCabe Plato's Individu
als [Individuals] (Princeton, 1999), 91; M . L . G i l l and P. Ryan. Plato: Parmenides
[Parmenides] (Indianapolis, 1996), 46; R. E. Allen, Plato's Parmenides (Newhaven,
1998), 193; S. Peterson, ' T h e Greatest Difficulty for Plato's Theory of Forms:
The Unknowability Argument of Parmenides 133 c—134 c' ['Greatest'], Archiv fur
Geschichte der Philosophic, 63 (1981), 1—16; and S. C. Rickless, Plato's Forms in
Transition: A Reading of the Parmenides [Transition] (Cambridge, 2007), 85—93.
46 Matthew Duncombe
u s u a l l y f o l l o w Forrester's c o n s t r u a l o f the a r g u m e n t as an a r g u m e n t
f r o m analogy: 9
etre
7
etre
O\LOIUI\LO.TO. r t ? a u r a Ttderai, dw rj[j.et? ^lerexovres etvcu e/caara €7ro-
OTTTJ OTJ
(sic) Able Man Colud (sic) Refute: Parmenides 133 B—134 E ' [Arguments'], Pkronesis,
19 (1974), 233—7; F- A . Lewis, 'Parmenides on Separation and the Knowability
of the Forms: Plato Parmenides 133 A ff.' ['Separation'], Philosophical Studies, 35
( 979)> 5 2 7 ; I - Mueller, 'Parmenides 133 A—134 E: Some Suggestions', Ancient
: io —
11
Forrester, 'Arguments', 236—7; Lewis, 'Separation', 112.
13
Categorical properties of Forms are those which a Form has simply i n virtue
of being a Form, rather than being the Form it happens to be. See G. E. L . Owen,
Dialectic and Eristic in the Treatment ofthe Forms (Oxford, 1968).
13
Forrester, Arguments', 233; Peterson, 'Greatest', 1; Rickless, Transition, 90.
14
Lewis, 'Separation', 120—3; M . L . McPherran, A n Argument "Too Strange":
Parmenides 134 c 4—E 8', Apeiron, 32 (1999), 55—71; Rickless, Transition, 90—3.
Plato's Relative Terms 49
cannot master the h u m a n ; ( i i ) that the h u m a n cannot master the
d i v i n e ; ( i i i ) that the d i v i n e cannot k n o w the h u m a n ; ( i v ) that the
h u m a n cannot k n o w the d i v i n e . I f the a r g u m e n t were an a r g u
15
r e a s o n i n g . T h e G D is n o t an a r g u m e n t f r o m analogy, so is n o t
17
1 7
I f conclusions (i), (iii), and (iv) are philosophically important, Plato is not pick
ing his examples of relatives at random, or deriving them from another source. This
is significant because i f Plato's examples are deliberate, Aristotle's use of 'master'
and 'slave' as examples of relatives in Cat. 7 indicates that he was influenced d i
rectly by this passage in his thinking about relatives. If, contrary to fact, Plato had
picked the example of 'master' and 'slave' without a philosophical point, it might
have suggested that Plato and Aristotle were both following an existing (perhaps
shared) tradition.
Plato's Relative Terms Si
(c) m e m b e r s o f this class have their essence i n r e l a t i o n to themselves
a n d n o t i n r e l a t i o n to things a m o n g us. Parmenides t h e n repeats, i n
(P3), the c o m p l e m e n t a r y p o i n t for the things a m o n g us. F o r m a l l y ,
I c l a i m that texts (P1 ) - ( P 3 ) reflect the f o l l o w i n g p r i n c i p l e s , and that
the G D targets t h e m for reductio:
each Other' {oaai TWV ISCOJV rrpos aXXrjXas eloiv ai (Eiaiv). Contrary
to the r a d i c a l separation reading, w h i c h takes this as a delineation
of a l l the F o r m s , m y r e a d i n g recognizes t h a t o n l y some F o r m s can
be p i c k e d o u t this way: F o r m s for relative terms. T h i s is w h a t the
oaai indicates. 18
B u t w h a t are the characteristics o f the F o r m s for
relatives t h a t are thus identified?
T h e first t h i n g that is clear is t h a t relatives are n o t singletons. N o
one c o u l d be a slave i f they were the o n l y i t e m i n the universe. O b
viously, i t is necessary b u t n o t sufficient for b e i n g a slave t h a t there
are other items i n the universe. Someone is n o t a slave i f the other
i t e m t h a t exists is m e r e l y a m a n , for example. A special relationship
to another i t e m is necessary. T o be a slave is to bear a special rela
t i o n s h i p to a master. I f a master exists, t h e n there m u s t be a slave
and vice versa. T h i s does n o t h o l d w i t h other terms, such as ' m a n ' :
i f a m a n exists, i t does n o t f o l l o w t h a t there m u s t be a slave, or any
t h i n g else. One m i g h t t h i n k that relative terms come i n pairs. T h i s
fits w i t h the examples c i t e d i n the G D : Master/Slave a n d K n o w
l e d g e / T r u t h . W e have already seen t h a t the first t e r m i n this p a i r is
u s u a l l y called a relative t e r m , the other its correlative.
N o t o n l y do relatives a n d t h e i r correlatives come i n pairs, b u t also
the p a i r is o f a special sort. T h i s is a f u r t h e r i n d i c a t i o n t h a t ( A ) and
(B) are the correct r e a d i n g o f (P2). Parmenides tells us, at 133 c 8,
that the terms i n the p a i r are i n r e l a t i o n to each other (77730? aXX-q-
Xas). W e m i g h t call the p a i r ' r e c i p r o c a l ' . Just as a master is master
of a slave, so a slave is slave o f a m a s t e r . W e c o u l d p u t the p o i n t ,
19
1 8
Lewis, 'Separation', 107, also holds that a restricted class of Forms are picked
out here.
1 9
Cf. Arist. Cat. 7, 6 28—7 2i. Aristotle is very clear that relatives reciprocate
b a
(6 28—35) and even uses as examples master and slave (6 2g—30) and knowledge
b b
(6 34—5), which, as I mentioned above, are taken directly from this passage. Here
b
larger and smaller, knowledge and perception used by both philosophers as examples
of relatives, i n addition to master and slave, which we have been discussing. While
there are some differences (for example, for Aristotle relatives admit of contraries,
Cat. 7, 6 i5—18, a point not discussed by Plato), the similarities are strong enough
b
3 4
eon TOLOVTOS oto? etvat Tivos 6 'Epojs epojs, r] ovoevos;
3 5
dpa o TraTTjp eon TraTT/p TWOS Tj ov;
36
6 TraTT/p, the Greek formula w i t h a definite article, is a way of speaking generally
about fathers. I have retained the definite article i n English for the sake of literalism,
even though it sounds archaic.
3 7
K . J. Dover et at., Plato: Symposium (Cambridge, 1980), 134.
3 8
Aristotle is often thought to be the originator of this use of TJ, from which we
derive the qua qualifier, but see Empedocles B 17. 9 D K . This line is also line 8 of
Empedocles B 26 D K .
3 9
Alternatively, it may be that the descriptions are true of the ordered pair of the
item and way of thinking, i.e. the properties being lucid and being obscure apply
respectively to the ordered pairs (Hume's dialogues, philosophy) and (Hume's dia-
56 Matthew Duncombe
none o f the uses I can f i n d i n Plato does he use the qualifier i n this
' m u l t i p l e aspect' way, so we m u s t handle D o v e r ' s gloss carefully.
Whereas i n m o d e r n p h i l o s o p h y qua is used to i n t r o d u c e and to ex
clude aspects u n d e r w h i c h s o m e t h i n g m a y be considered, Plato, as
we w i l l see, uses the expression o n l y to exclude aspects f r o m consi
deration, never to i n t r o d u c e t h e m . T h e o n l y use Plato w o u l d a l l o w
is: ' H u m e ' s dialogues qua dialogues are thus-and-so.' T h i s state
m e n t w a r n s us n o t to t h i n k o f H u m e ' s dialogues as literature, n o r
as philosophy, b u t o n l y as dialogues.
T o prove the p o i n t about hoper estin let us look at its occurrence
at Theaet. 204 E 11. Socrates is t r y i n g , i n the face o f d e t e r m i n e d
resistance, to force Theaetetus to accept that the ' w h o l e ' (TO SXOV)
and the ' s u m ' (TT&V) m e a n the same. Socrates says that i f a w h o l e
consisted o f parts, i t w o u l d be a l l the parts. S o m e t h i n g that is a l l
the parts is a s u m . So the ' w h o l e ' a n d ' s u m ' m e a n the same. ' O r is
a p a r t w h a t i t is o f a n y t h i n g other t h a n the w h o l e ? ' Socrates here 30
logues, literature). I n this case the descriptions would be true or false of different
ordered pairs and so not incompatible.
3 0
[J.epos S' eo9' OTOV dXXov e a r l v oirep e a r l v rj r o v oXov; ( T h e a e t . 204 E 11).
Plato's Relative Terms 57
that the necessary and sufficient c o n d i t i o n o n b e i n g larger is b e i n g
larger t h a n the smaller. A n y relationships i n a d d i t i o n to the rela
t i o n s h i p to the smaller, such as to a m i d d l e - s i z e d t h i n g , are r e d u n
dant w h e n e x p l a i n i n g w h y the larger is larger.
We can see f r o m l o o k i n g at other passages where Plato uses this
t e r m i n o l o g y that i t r e g u l a r l y specifies that s o m e t h i n g s h o u l d be
v i e w e d qua itself; i t is used to exclude other i n c i d e n t a l ways o f l o o k
i n g at the relative—for example, u n d e r a non-relative d e s c r i p t i o n .
I n the c o n t e x t o f the Parmenides, we s h o u l d be alive to the sense
i n w h i c h Parmenides uses i t . I n so far as someone is a slave, he
m u s t be slave o f something. T h e p o i n t is to differentiate a relative
d e s c r i p t i o n such as 'slave' f r o m another, n o n - r e l a t i v e d e s c r i p t i o n
w h i c h w i l l a p p l y to a l l slaves—for example, ' b e i n g h u m a n ' . I f this
is the t h o u g h t , i t prefigures A r i s t o t l e ' s discussion at Cat. 7, 7 3 i - a
h
g. T h e r e A r i s t o t l e remarks that w h e n a l l the possible 'accidental'
(CTu/x/3e/3iiKOTa) descriptions are excluded, or ' s t r i p p e d away' f r o m a
master, such as ' b e i n g a b i p e d ' , ' b e i n g capable o f reason', we w i l l
say that a slave is a slave o f a master. H i s p o i n t is that i t is, i f n o t
exactly false, n o t ideal to say that 'a slave is slave o f a b i p e d ' ; he
w o u l d prefer a m o r e perspicuous designation o f the c o r r e l a t i v e . 31
ov[j.fiefiriK6s has a range of uses in Aristotle, but Pkys. 2. 3, I95 33— 6 may be
3 1 a b
the closest parallel. There Aristotle is discussing, not kinds of cause, but the ways i n
which a cause may be given: 'some [are causes] as accident [OJ? TO ov^e^r/Ko?] and
some the genera of these' (i95 3i—3). He then gives the example of a sculptor caus
a
ing a sculpture. The cause of a sculpture can be given as 'a sculptor', 'Polyclitus',
or even 'a man' or 'an animal'. The cause can be picked out i n various 'accidental'
ways. T h i s closely reflects the thought i n Cat. 7 3 1—g that a relative can be specified
a b
in various ways. Moreover, the Physics tells us that there is a hierarchy of ways of
specifying the cause w i t h respect to the caused (i95 i—2). Similarly, the Categories
b
says that there is a privileged description of the relative w i t h respect to the correla
tive.
58 Matthew Duncombe
3 3
This way of reading the argument owes a great deal to conversations w i t h James
Warren. However, he cannot be held responsible for the results!
3 3
I f we read the argument this way, there is still a question over which claim or
claims Socrates might reject: would he reject A B , or his (assumed) views of relatives?
A full answer to that question is beyond the scope of this paper, but it seems that
Plato has the Parmenides conception of relatives in the (probably later) Sophist, at
255 c 14. T h i s may suggest that he would retain his conception of relative terms.
See M . Duncombe, 'Plato's Absolute and Relative Categories at Sophist 255 c 14'
['Categories'], Ancient Philosophy, 32 (2012), 77—86.
3 4
There is one possible objection to my reading of the G D . On the face of it,
'knowledge' and ' t r u t h ' are not related as 'master' is to 'slave': although it is i m
possible to know without knowing truths, it is perfectly possible for there to be a
truth that is not known. Put another way, to be a reciprocal pair, these should be
'knowledge' (r/ euioTrnxri) and the 'knowable' (TO l-nioTr^Tov), which are the terms
Aristotle uses {Cat. 6 34). Briefly, I think that ' t r u t h ' should be understood here
b
University of Groningen
BIBLIOGRAPHY
'knowledge'. Theaet. 201 D 2—3 and Rep. 438 c 6—9 and 438 E 5 all show that Plato is
developing a vocabulary for 'object of knowledge' while avoiding TO emorr/rov. For
further argument on this point see Duncombe, 'Categories', 84—5.
Plato's Relative Terms 61
JOSHUA W I L B U R N
© Joshua W i l b u r n 2013
I would like to thank the audience at the First Canadian Colloquium for Ancient
Philosophy and the Editor for their feedback on earlier versions of this paper.
1
C. Bobonich, Plato's Utopia Recast: His Later Ethics and Politics [ Utopia] (Ox
ford, 2002), 261 ff.
64 Joshua Wilburn
3
Utopia, 261, 331. What makes 'non-rational' desires and emotions non-rational,
according to Bobonich, is that, although they all involve applications of reasoning,
they involve partial or incomplete applications of it. Impetuous anger, for example,
involves a sensitivity to some, but not all, relevant rational considerations about a
perceived injustice (ibid. 340—1).
3
See W. W. Fortenbaugh, Aristotle on Emotion (London, 1975), 23—5; T. M .
Robinson, Plato's Psychology (Toronto, 1995), 145; M . M . Sassi, 'The Self, the Soul,
and the Individual in the City of the Laws' ['Self'], Oxford Studies in Ancient Philo
sophy, 35 (2008), 125—48; D. A. Rees, 'Bipartition of the Soul in the Early Academy',
Journal of Hellenic Studies, ~]~] (1957), 112—18; and perhaps A. Laks, 'Legislation and
Demiurgy: O n the Relationship between Plato's Republic and Laws', Classical An
tiquity, 9 (1990), 209—29 at 221. 'Self, 133. 4
Moral Education in Plato's Laws 65
i m p o r t a n t p o s i t i v e r o l e — i n d e e d , an e x p a n d e d r o l e — i n m o r a l deve
l o p m e n t : i n the Laws, i t is no longer s i m p l y the ally o f reason, b u t
also the ally o f law itself.
1. T r i p a r t i t i o n i n the Laws
5
The issue of whether Plato abandons the theory of tripartition in the Laws is
highly contentious. Against the developmentalists, L . Brisson, 'Soul and State i n
Plato's Laws' ['Soul'], in R. Barney, T. Brennan, and C. Brittain (eds.), Plato and the
Divided Self [Divided] (Cambridge, 2012), 281—307 (and cf. L . Brisson, 'Ethics and
Politics i n Plato's Laws' ['Ethics'], Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy, 28 (2005),
93—121 at 95); M . M . Mackenzie, Plato on Punishment [Punishment] (Berkeley, 1981),
175; and T. J. Saunders, 'The Structure of the Soul and the State i n Plato's Laws',
Eranos, 60 (1962), 37—55, argue that tripartition is still present in the Laws. C. Kahn,
' F r o m Republic to Laws' ['Laws'], Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy, 26 (2004),
337—62 at 361—2; and R. Kamtekar, 'Psychology and the Inculcation of Virtue i n
Plato's Laws' ['Psychology'], i n C. Bobonich (ed.), Plato's Laws: A Critical Guide
[Guide] (Cambridge, 2010), 127—48 at 141—2, argue, somewhat more neutrally, that
tripartition is compatible w i t h the puppet passage and the moral psychology of the
Laws, even if it is not explicitly advocated i n the text.
6
Or at least (so as not to beg the question against Bobonich), impulses that were
attributed to non-rational parts of the soul i n earlier dialogues.
7
D. Frede, 'Puppets on Strings: M o r a l Psychology in Laws Books 1 and 2', i n
Bobonich (ed.), Guide, 108—26 at 118, for example, remarks: 'There is no functional
distinction between the two unreasoning strings of pleasure and pain, as there is
between the two lower parts/horses, w i t h the better part acting as an ally of reason
against the powerful pull of the appetites.' Cf. Sassi, ' S e l f , 133.
66 Joshua Wilburn
ver c o r d s ' . 8
I n the p u p p e t passage, thumos is i n c l u d e d i n d i s c r i m i
n a t e l y a m o n g the r e c a l c i t r a n t a n d d i s r u p t i v e i r r a t i o n a l forces t h a t
p u l l against reasoning. G i v e n the e m p h a t i c c o n t r a s t b e t w e e n spir
ited e m o t i o n and a p p e t i t i v e desire i n Republic and Timaeus, and
g i v e n the i m p o r t a n t m o r a l role g r a n t e d to the thumoeides i n those
texts, t h i s seems s u r p r i s i n g . M o r e o v e r , as Sassi r i g h t l y p o i n t s o u t ,
c o m m e n t s o n s p i r i t e d anger t h r o u g h o u t the Laws c o n f i r m its l o w
status: thumos is t r e a t e d as a ' t y r a n n i c a l ' force t h a t can motivate
c r i m i n a l b e h a v i o u r (863 B ) a n d even p a r r i c i d e (869 A ) , i t can lead
to i g n o r a n c e (934 A ) or madness (934 D ) , and i t is a force t h a t needs
to be m i n i m i z e d or e x t i n g u i s h e d (731 D ) . I n s h o r t , s p i r i t e d anger,
9
8
Utopia, 264. I n Utopia, 260—82, and i n C. Bobonich, 'Akrasia and Agency i n
Plato's Laws and Republic' ['Agency'], Archiv fur Geschichte der Philosophic, 76
(1994), 3—36 at 17—28, Bobonich offers a detailed interpretation of the puppet pas
sage i n support of his developmentalist thesis about Plato's moral psychology. Bo
bonich emphasizes the fact that none of the puppet's affections is described as being
'agent-like': the iron cords are not described as soul-parts w i t h their own psycho
logical lives, but rather they all seem to be occurrent mental states of some kind
('Agency', 20). I confront Bobonich's interpretation of the passage i n J. W i l b u r n ,
'Akrasia and Self-Rule i n Plato's Laws', Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy, 43
(2012), 25—53, d offer my own alternative reading of it.
a n
' S e l f , 135.
9
1 0
I b i d . 137. R. F. Stalley, 'Justice in Plato's Laws', in L . Brisson and S. Scolnicov
(eds.), Plato's Laws: From Theory into Practice (Proceedings of the V I Symposium
Platonicum; Sankt Augustin, 2003), 174—85 at 181 n. 6, agrees that in the Laws spir
ited motivation does not have the same psychological role that it had i n the Republic:
' I n the Republic it is the positive role of spirit that is emphasized; its task is to come
to the aid of reason and help it overcome the temptations of appetite. I n the Laws,
on the other hand, it appears i n a negative role as the source of irrational passions
which oppose the reason.' Cf. Bobonich, Utopia, 288. Brisson, who argues that the
Laws accepts tripartition, none the less agrees that ' i n the Laws, spirit displays a
primarily negative role . . . Anger is a source of vicious behaviour, a negative force
that needs to be moderated by gentleness' ('Soul', 298—9). He also remarks that 'we
hear so little' of thumos in the Laws (ibid. 289). While Brisson does acknowledge two
limited, positive uses of spirit in the Laws—first, when entering into a competition i n
the practice of virtue (cf. comments i n sect. 4 below), and second, when channelling
one's anger towards punishing the incurably unjust—he does not acknowledge the
important role that ( I w i l l argue) the thumoeides plays in early education and moral
development.
Moral Education in Plato's Laws 67
11
Psuche occurs at 643 D 1 and 645 E 5, but it is conspicuously absent from 643 D
2 to 645 E 4.
13
Kahn, 'Laws', 361—2, notes this point, and he rightly argues that the absence
of tripartition i n the Laws reflects more about the aims and context of the dialogue
than it does about Plato's moral psychological theory.
13
See A. Hobbs, Plato and the Hero: Courage, Manliness, and the Impersonal Good
[Hero] (Cambridge, 2000), 6—7, for a discussion of this issue.
68 Joshua Wilburn
1 4
Brisson's defence of the claim that the Laws remains committed to tripartite
psychology evidently presupposes a similarly 'motivational' conception of triparti-
tion. I n the course of arguing that the Laws acknowledges the existence of the three
soul-parts, he concludes that 'appetite is a part of the soul that is one of the causes of
human action', that 'thumos, or spirit, is indeed considered as a distinct part of the
human soul that is one of the causes of human action', and that 'the spirit of anger
is obviously the cause of specific actions' ('Soul', 296—8).
1 5
Commentators who incline towards more or less 'literalist' views include: J.
Annas, An Introduction to Plato's Republic (Oxford, 1981), 130—1 and 138—45; Bo
bonich, Utopia, 216—35; T. Brickhouse and N . Smith, Socratic Moral Psychology
(Cambridge, 2010), 203; E. Brown, ' T h e U n i t y of the Soul i n Plato's Republic', i n
Barney, Brennan, and Brittain (eds.), Divided, 53—73 at 62; M . Burnyeat, 'Lecture
I : Couches, Song, and Civic Tradition', i n Culture and Society in Plato's Republic
(G. Peterson (ed.), T h e Tanner Lectures on H u m a n Values, 20: 215—324; Salt Lake
City, 1999), 217—55 at 227—8; G. R. Carone, 'Akrasia in the Republic: Does Plato
Change his Mind?', Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy, 20 (2001), 107—48 at 124—
5; ead., 'Plato's Stoic View of Motivation', i n R. Salles (ed.), Metaphysics, Soul, and
Ethics in Ancient Thought: Themes from the Work of Richard Sorabji (Oxford, 2005),
365—82 at 366; ead., 'Akrasia and the Structure of the Passions i n Plato's Timaeus',
in C. Bobonich and P. Destree (eds.), Akrasia in Greek Philosophy: From Socrates
7o Joshua Wilburn
2. M u s i c a l education
17
Kamtekar ('Speaking', 181—2), too, points out that i f Plato attributes conflicting
mental states to a single subject i n the Laws (as Bobonich claims), then that would
seem to violate the Principle of Opposites and hence would demand an explanatory
story that Plato never provides.
18
I t should be noted here that the ostensible goal of Republic is to address the t w i n
questions 'What is justice/virtue?' and ' W h y should we be just/virtuous?', and the
theory of tripartition is central to the answers it provides to them. Neither question
is ever taken up i n the Laws i n any systematic way, however.
Moral Education in Plato's Laws 73
2 . 1 . Spirited motivation
Psychology and Ethics of Honour and Shame in Ancient Greek Literature [Aidos] (Ox
ford, 1993), 383—4; J- Cooper, 'Plato's Theory of H u m a n Motivation', i n id., Reason
and Emotion (Princeton, 1999), 118—37; Hobbs, Hero; and T. I r w i n , Plato's Ethics
(Oxford, 1995). The view that early education targets the spirited part of the soul is
defended i n Cairns, Aidos, 386—8; R. C. Cross and A . D. Woozley, Plato's Repub
lic: A Philosophical Commentary (London, 1964), 123; J. C. B. Gosling, Plato ( L o n
don, 1973), 42—5; Hobbs, Hero, 58—9; J. Moss, 'Shame, Pleasure, and the Divided
Soul', Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy, 29 (2005), 137—70; G. R. Lear, 'Plato
on Learning to Love Beauty', i n G. Santos (ed.), The Blackwell Guide to Plato's Re
public (Maiden, Mass., 2006), 104—24; Mackenzie, Punishment, 169; and I . Vasiliou,
' F r o m the Phaedo to the Republic: Plato's Tripartite Soul and the Possibility of N o n -
Philosophical V i r t u e ' , in Barney, Brennan, and Brittain (eds.), Divided, 9—32 at 29.
( I t is, however, partly challenged i n two recent articles by Wilberding, who argues
that the spirited part of the soul is the target of a smaller portion of musical and g y m
nastic training than is commonly supposed. See J. Wilberdmg, 'Plato's T w o Forms
of Second-Best Morality', Philosophical Review, 118 (2009), 351—74 at 361—9, and
id., 'Curbing One's Appetites in Plato's Republic' ['Appetites'], in Barney, Brennan,
and Brittain (eds.), Divided, 128—49.) For textual support for my first assumption,
see esp. Rep. 401 D—402 A , 439 E—440 A , 441 c, 549 A , 550 B , and 581 A ; Tim. 70 A — D ;
and Phdr. 253 D—254 A . For the second, see esp. Rep. 410 D—411 E and 441 E—442 A .
(Although the discussion of early education i n the Republic precedes the introduc
tion of the tripartite soul, Socrates' comment at 441 E 8—442 A 2 indicates that we
are to identify the thumoeides of books 2 and 3 w i t h the spirited part of the soul as it
is characterized i n book 4: 'And isn't it, as we were saying, a mixture of music and
poetry, on the one hand, and physical training on the other, that makes the two parts
harmonious?')
3 0
Translations of the Laws are based on T. Pangle, The Laws of Plato (Chicago,
74 Joshua Wilburn
W h a t is m o s t i m p o r t a n t is n o t a person's technical s k i l l i n s i n g i n g
and dancing, b u t rather the a d m i r a t i o n he feels for w h a t is kalon and
the c o n t e m p t he feels for w h a t is aischron. Song a n d dance p r o v i d e
means o f c u l t i v a t i n g these a p p r o p r i a t e attitudes because they are
3 3
Aristotle agrees that musical rhythms and harmonies contain likenesses to as
pects of character, and that taking pleasure i n the right kinds of music can make a
person more inclined to take pleasure in the right kinds of people and behaviour. He
offers an analogy: 'For i f someone enjoys looking at the image of something for no
other reason than because of its shape or form, he is bound to enjoy looking at the
very thing whose image he is looking at' {Pol. i34o 25—8). a
3 3
T h i s dual process of delighting i n the kalon and becoming more kalos oneself,
moreover, is mutually reinforcing, for people tend to take pleasure in what is most
like themselves: 'Those whose character is in accord w i t h what is said and sung and i n
any way performed—because of nature or habit or both—are necessarily delighted
by the admirable things, and led to praise them and pronounce them admirable'
(655 D 7 - E 3).
7 6 Joshua Wilburn
tions people have i n the absence of their better judgements, as well as how those
non-rational motivations balance against each other. See discussions of the function
of the drinking party in G. M . A . Grube, Plato's Thought [Thought] (Indianapolis,
1980), 243; Kamtekar, 'Psychology', 141—2; and G. Morrow, Plato's Cretan City
[Cretan] (Princeton, i960), 315—17.
Moral Education in Plato's Laws 77
cause a p e r s o n to act, moreover, i n d e p e n d e n t l y (a) o f his reason
i n g , w h i c h has abandoned h i m , a n d (b) o f his appetites, w h i c h he
is resisting. A n d finally, these v i r t u o u s m o t i v a t i o n s serve the same
psychological f u n c t i o n that is a t t r i b u t e d to the thumoeides i n t r i
p a r t i t e theory—namely, p r o v i d i n g courageous resistance to i n t e r n a l
threats to v i r t u e . T h e discussion o f drunkenness thus p o i n t s to a
d i s t i n c t psychic source o f n o n - r a t i o n a l , n o n - a p p e t i t i v e m o t i v a t i o n s .
I n other words, i t p o i n t s to the existence o f a s p i r i t e d p a r t o f the i n
dividual's soul. 25
D i d n ' t we assert that . . . the souls of drinkers, like some iron [Kadanep
Tivd otSrjpov], become fiery [Siairupovs], softened [paXdaKojrepas], and youth
ful, so that they can be easily led—as they were when they were young,
by someone who possesses the ability and the knowledge required to edu
cate and mould [nXaTTeiv] souls? Didn't we say that the one who did the
moulding is the same as he who moulded them earlier, the good lawgiver,
whose laws must be fellow drinkers at the banquet? They must be able
to make whoever becomes confident, bold, and more shameless than he
3 5
Brisson ('Soul', 294) also finds tripartition i n the passage on drunkenness, but
he does so solely on the basis of 645 D — E : 'When the Athenian suggests giving wine to
this puppet, we find a very clear distinction between (1) pleasures and pains, (2) an
gers and desires, and (3) sensations, memory, opinions, and thought, that is, between
appetite (epitkumiai), spirit (tkumos), and intellect (nous).' T h i s comment is some
what curious, however, because it is unclear how (1)—(3) are supposed to map onto
the tripartite soul, and particularly how (1) and (2) are supposed to map onto appe
tite and spirit. Brisson provides no details. Moreover, it is doubtful whether Plato
really intends to mark off any distinction between appetitive and spirited impulses at
645 D, given that the Athenian is at this point merely distinguishing between states
and impulses that are intensified by drinking and those that are weakened or elimi
nated by it—that is, between non-rational states and rational ones (corresponding to
the iron cords and golden cord, respectively, i n the immediately preceding puppet
image). The fact that the Athenian lists the non-rational impulses as ra? r/Sovds Kal
Xvuas Kal 6V[JLOV<; Kal e p a j r a ? at 645 D 7, without distinguishing among them (even
syntactically), confirms this reading. I t is not until the subsequent discussion of the
educational benefits of drinking parties that the distinction between appetitive and
spirited impulses becomes evident i n the way I have suggested.
78 Joshua Wilburn
should be . . . willing to act i n just the opposite way. When ignoble bold
ness appears, these laws will be able to send i n as a combatant the noblest
sort of fear accompanied by justice, the divine fear to which we gave the
name 'awe' and 'shame'. (671 B 8—D 3)
When someone gives music an opportunity to charm his soul w i t h the flute
and to pour those sweet, soft, and plaintive tunes we mentioned through
his ear, as through a funnel, and when he spends his whole life humming
them and delighting i n them, then, at first, whatever spirit [thumoeides] he
has is softened like iron [ojonep oi8t]pov e/iaXa^ev], and from being hard and
useless, i t is made useful. But i f he keeps at i t unrelentingly and is charmed
by the music, after a time his spirit [thumos] is melted and dissolved until
it vanishes, and the very sinews of his soul are cut out and he becomes 'a
feeble warrior'. (411 A 5—B 4)
3 7
The reason that the thumoeides is 'useful' when it has been softened is that, like
tempered metal, it can be moulded and shaped. O n the other hand, i f it is too soft,
or soft for too long, it becomes 'useless' (just as a hammer is useless i f the metal out
of which it is moulded never cools and hardens).
3 8
Cf. Horn. II. 24. 205: oibripeiov vv TOI r/rop. The heart is traditionally associated
w i t h thumos and is often characterized as 'iron' i n Homer. I t is also the seat of the
thumoeides in Plato (see Tim. 70 A—B and sect. 3.2 below).
3 9
T. Saunders, Plato's Penal Code [Penal] (Oxford, 1991), 185—7, discusses the
Laws' use of the 'physiological' language of hardness/softness and hotness/coldness
to characterize the soul, though he does not note any connections between the use
of that language and the use of thumos and its cognates.
3 0
See also 880 D 8—E 3, where the Athenian states that the laws exist 'partly for
the sake of those who have shunned education, who employ a certain tough nature
and have been i n no way softened so as to avoid proceeding to everything bad'; 633 D
2—3, where pleasures 'can t u r n to wax the spiritedness [thumos] even of those who
think themselves solemn'; and 789 E 2—3: 'When the child is born [the woman] must
mould it like wax so long as it remains moist.'
8o Joshua Wilburn
3 1
Cf. Rep. 442 A 2, where music 'tames' (r/ixepovoa) the spirited part of the soul.
3 3
T h i s is the view of Bobonich, who argues that, in the Laws, appetitive pleasure
(which Bobonich does not, of course, attribute to a distinct appetitive part of the
soul) is actually considered more useful than spirited emotions for the purposes of
moral education {Utopia, 365—7). Kamtekar ('Psychology', 128—30 and 145—8) also
emphasizes the role of pleasure in Magnesian early education and provides a useful
discussion of various interpretations of the psychology underlying pleasure's role
in education. Pleasure is also prominent i n the accounts of M o r r o w {Cretan, 302—
18) and R. F. Stalley, An Introduction to Plato's Laws [Introduction] (Indianapolis,
1983), 125—7. W. Jaeger, Paideia: The Ideals of Greek Culture, iii. The Conflict of
Cultural Ideals in the Age of Plato, trans, by G. Highet (New York, 1944), 228, em
phasizes the Athenian's focus on 'irrational' impulses in general.
3 3
See the Athenian's discussion of the psychological causes of criminal behaviour
at 863 B—864 c. He initially identifies anger {thumos) and pleasure as the two non-
rational causes of crime (863 B 1—9), but at 863 E 6—8 he expands this list to include
'anger, fear, pleasure, pain, feelings of envy, and appetites'. Then, at 864 B 3—6, he
narrows the list back down to two categories: 'anger and fear, which we call "pain"'
and 'pleasure and appetites'. See similarly broad lists of pleasures and pains at 645 D,
649 D , and 934 A .
Moral Education in Plato's Laws 81
3 4
See Tim. 42 A , 69 C - D ; Rep. 580 D - 5 8 1 c.
3 5
Moreover, i n the Laws yaipew is the verb the Athenian most frequently uses to
refer to the pleasure the young take i n song and dance. I t occurs at least twenty-one
times i n book 2 (e.g. 654 c 7, 655 E 2, 656 B 5), and he clearly identifies -^aipeiv w i t h
taking pleasure (see esp. 659 D 5 and 663 B 5, where yaipew is opposed to Xviretodai,
in parallel to the r/Sovr/ Kal Xv7rr/ that occurs throughout book 2, e.g. at 653 B 2—3, c
7, and 654 D 2). Even m the Republic, however, this kind of pleasure evidently plays
a positive role i n early education: Socrates says that those who are educated through
proper r h y t h m and harmony w i l l 'take delight' {yaipajv, 401 E 4) i n what is admir
able. The Athenian's emphasis on the pleasure and delight the young take in music is
nothing novel, therefore, and cannot be taken as evidence of a shift in Plato's views.
3 6
Wilberding (Appetites', 140—6) provides a useful discussion of how, on Plato's
account, our appetites can be trained through early education by practising self-
restrained and moderate behaviour. On Wilberding's view, though, this training af
fects the appetitive part of the soul exclusively: acting moderately, he claims, 'does
not serve to arouse the spirited part of the soul' (146). However, given Plato's view
that courage involves resistance by the spirited part against both external threats and
appetites within, it is unclear why moderate behaviour could not, for Plato, involve
both the subduing of appetite and stimulating training for the thumoeides itself.
82 Joshua Wilburn
Grube {Thought, 252) agrees: 'The "part" of the soul most directly concerned
3 7
[in music and gymnastics] is undoubtedly the dv/xos, the spirit or feelings.' D. Cohen,
'Law, Autonomy, and Political Community i n Plato's Laws', Classical Philology, 88
( 993), 301—18 at 310, and Cairns {Aidos, ^~]~]) also emphasize the Athenian's focus
:
3. G y m n a s t i c e d u c a t i o n
The passion being experienced is presumably terror, and the terror is due
to some poor habit of the soul. When someone brings a rocking motion
from the outside to such passions, the motion brought from without over
powers the fear and the mad motion within, and, having overpowered i t ,
makes a calm stillness appear in the soul that replaces the harsh pounding
of the heart [^apSta? ^oAem}? TrijSrjaeojs] i n each case . . . I t thereby replaces
our mad dispositions w i t h prudent habits. (790 E 8-791 B 2)
psychic motion within. E. B. England, The Laws of Plato [Laws], 2 vols. (New York,
1976), ii. 241, however, offers an alternative interpretation of the passage. According
to England, (j>aiveodai at 791 A 4 indicates that the 'calm stillness' merely appears to
the child to be present i n its soul (but is not really present). Rocking accomplishes
this, England, claims, by distracting the child's attention away from the mad motion
w i t h i n . I t is not that the external motion actually has any effect on internal psychic
motion, on this account; it simply makes the child temporarily unaware of the troub
ling psychic motion.
4 3
Kamtekar takes it to be a virtue of her account (as do I ) that it provides an ex
planation of why, for the purposes of achieving the desired psychological effects of
gymnastic education, it is not enough that the young citizens simply observe orderly
movement, but must also practise orderly movement themselves. Because, on her
account, engaging i n the right kind of physical motion impacts the psychic motions
and affections within, we cannot produce those results simply as spectators ('Psycho
logy', 147—8). I n his own account of musical education, Aristotle offers a somewhat
different view on why the young must not be mere spectators: ' I t is not difficult to
see, of course, that i f someone takes part i n performance himself, it makes a great
difference i n the development of certain qualities, since it is difficult if not impos
sible for people to become excellent judges of performances if they do not take part
in it' (Pol. i 3 4 o 2 i - s ) .
b
86 Joshua Wilburn
4 4
See 633 c-634 B ; 791 B - c ; 814 E ; 815 E-816 A ; cf. Rep. 442 A - c ; Tim. 70 B 3-5.
4 5
A n d cf. Laws 901 E 4—7, where cowardice and luxury cause 'softness of spirit'
{pa9v[LLa).
Moral Education in Plato's Laws 87
T h e gods foreknew that the pounding of the heart [Trqh-qois r-ijs KapSias]
(which occurs when one expects what one fears or when one's anger is
aroused) would, like all such swelling of the passions [TOW dv/iov/ievajv], be
caused by fire. So they devised something to relieve the pounding: they
implanted lungs, a structure that is first of all soft and without blood and
secondly contains pores bored through i t like a sponge. This enables i t to
take i n breath and drink and thereby cool the heart. . . so that when an
ger (thumos) within the heart should reach its peak, the heart might pound
against something that gives way to i t and be cooled down. (70 c I - D 6)
4 6
Kamtekar's account of gymnastic education i n the Laws is similarly informed
by the psychology and physiology of the Timaeus ('Psychology', 130—43). Brisson
('Soul', 285—7) also draws attention to parallels between Timaeus and the Laws,
though w i t h a different focus.
88 Joshua Wilburn
4. T h e law
4 7
Bobonich {Utopia, 104). See C. Bobonich, 'Persuasion, Compulsion, and Free
dom in Plato's Laws' ['Persuasion'], Classical Quarterly, N S 41 (1991), 365—88; i d . ,
'Reading the Laws', i n C. G i l l and M . M . McCabe (eds.), Form and Argument in Late
Plato (Oxford, 1996), 249-82 at 264; i d . , Utopia, 97-119; and T. I r w i n , ' M o r a l i t y
as Law and Morality i n the Laws' [ ' M o r a l i t y ' ] , i n Bobonich (ed.), Guide, 92—107 at
98. The rationalist interpretation is well stated by Bobonich: 'What the lawgiver and
the preludes do is characterized as "teaching", that is, giving reasons to the citizens
and bringing i t about that they "learn" . . . T h e preludes are thus designed to be
instances of rational persuasion . . . Thus the citizens w i l l learn why the laws are
fine and just and should also learn why following the laws and, more generally, act
ing virtuously is good for them. They are to receive a true and reasoned account
of what is good for human beings' (Utopia, 104). Bobonich goes so far as to suggest
that the preludes could even produce knowledge i n the citizens ('Persuasion', 378—80)
(though cf. Bobonich's later remarks at Utopia, 199). R. Curren, 'Justice, Instruc
tion, and the Good: T h e Case for Public Education i n Aristotle and Plato's Laws',
Studies in Philosophy and Education, 13 (1994), 1—31 at 20—1, also advocates a ratio
nalist interpretation of the preludes. J. Annas, 'Virtue and Law i n Plato' ['Virtue'],
in Bobonich (ed.), Guide, 71—91, inclines towards the rationalist camp but adopts a
more moderate interpretation than that of Bobonich. She argues that the preludes
are neither wholly rational argument nor wholly 'rhetorical spell' (84—6). Many of
them, she claims, are more like an 'earnest address' that 'provides no argument' (76).
Moral Education in Plato's Laws 89
4 8
See A . Laks, ' L ' U t o p i e legislative de Platon', Revue philosophique, 4 (1991),
416—28, and i d . , ' T h e Laws', i n C. Rowe and M . Schofield (eds.), The Cambridge
History of Greek and Roman Political Thought (Cambridge, 2000), 258—92 at 278;
Stalley, Introduction, 43, and i d . , 'Persuasion i n Plato's Laws' ['Persuasion'], His
tory of Political Thought, 15 (1994), 157—77; R- Mayhew, 'Persuasion and C o m p u l
sion i n Plato's Laws 10', Polis, 24 (2007), 91—111; E. R. Dodds, The Greeks and the
Irrational (Berkeley, 1951), 212; England, Laws, i . 258; G. Morrow, 'Plato's Con
ception of Persuasion' ['Persuasion'], Philosophical Review, 62 (1953), 234—50, and
id., Cretan, 310; A . Nightingale, 'Writing/Reading a Sacred Text: A Literary I n
terpretation of Plato's Laws' ['Sacred'], Classical Philology, 88 (1993), 279—300, and
id., 'Plato's Lawcode i n Context: Rule by Written Law in Athens and Magnesia'
['Lawcode'], Classical Quarterly, N S 49 (1999), 100—22; Brisson, 'Ethics', 116—20;
C. Ritter, Platos Gesetze: Kommentar zum griechischen Text (Leipzig, 1896), 13—14;
and H . Gorgemanns, Beitrdge zur Interpretation von Platons Nomoi ( M u n i c h , i960),
who all adopt (varyingly strong versions of) anti-rationalist interpretations. Dodds,
for example, writes: ' I n the Laws, at any rate, the virtue of the common man is evi
dently not based on knowledge, or even on true opinion as such, b u t on a process
of conditioning or habituation by which he is induced to accept and act on certain
"salutary" beliefs . . . Plato now appears to hold that the majority of human beings
can be kept i n tolerable moral health only by a carefully chosen diet of "incanta
tions" (eTrqjSaC)—that is to say, edifying myths and bracing ethical slogans' (212).
M o r r o w shares Dodds's emphasis on the Athenian's characterization of educational
measures as errajSat ('Persuasion', 2381!.). Bobonich ('Persuasion', 373—7) offers a
reply to Morrow. Gorgemanns argues that the preludes make use of 'eine staatsman-
nische Rhetorik' that is directed to a popular, non-philosophical audience (70, 108).
4 9
I n support of his rationalist interpretation of the preludes, Bobonich points out
that what the preludes do is sometimes characterized as 'teaching', and that the citi
zens are sometimes characterized as 'learning' from them (Utopia, 104). However,
the passages that Bobonich cites—718 c—D, 720 D , 723 A , 857 D — E , and 888 A—are far
less conclusive than he suggests, for a number of reasons. (1) T w o of the occurrences
of 'learning' (718 D 6 and 723 A 5) are actually occurrences of evfxaOeorepov: the pre
ludes are intended to make the citizens r/fxepwrepov (718 D 4), evfxeveorepov (718 D 4,
90 Joshua Wilburn
723 A 4), and evfxaOeorepov. But evfxaOeorepov does not indicate that the citizens learn
from the preludes. I t indicates that, i f anything, the preludes make them 'better
suited for learning' or 'more disposed to learn'. T h a t implies that what the citizens
gain from the preludes does not constitute the learning itself, but at most a kind of
psychological preparation for learning, if any is to occur. T h e fact that evfxaOeorepov
is paired w i t h r/fxepwrepov and evfxeveorepov further suggests that the preludes aim at
a pre- or non-rational good condition of the soul, rather than at rational education.
(2) A t 720 D 4—6, while characterizing the free doctor to w h o m the prelude-giving
legislator is likened, the Athenian says that the doctor 'both learns [fiavOdvei] some
thing himself from the sick and, as much as he can, teaches [StSaa/eet] the afflicted
one'. T w o points are noteworthy here. First, the doctor only 'teaches' his patient
KCLQ* oaov 016s re eonv. T h a t suggests a limitation on how much the patient can actu
ally learn (cf. 718 D 5: el real fir/ \xeya TI, ofiiKpov be). Second, the sense of fiavOdvei is
evidently broad enough in this context to allow that the doctor is learning/rom the
patient. T h e doctor certainly cannot be learning medicine from a layperson, how
ever, but at most some empirical facts about the individual patient's case. I f that is all
that is necessary for something to count as learning, then to say the citizen 'learns'
from the preludes does not say very much at all. (3) A t 857 D 7 the free doctor is
accused of 'practically teaching' his patient. Once again, however, o^ehov suggests
that what is going on at best approximates teaching, but is not actually teaching.
Moreover, the fact that this accusation is p u t into the mouth of the slave doctor,
who does not possess the art of medicine himself, further undercuts its significance
as a genuine assessment of what constitutes teaching the art of medicine. (4) T h e
Laws is noteworthy for the way i t characterizes 'education' as something that falls
far short of rational education. A t 653 B and 659 D 'education' (iraiheia) is defined as
the correct training i n pleasure and pain, and at 689 A—c the Athenian paradoxically
characterizes ignorance (dfxaOta, avoia) as the condition i n which a person feels plea
sure and pain in a way that is opposed to reasoning. A l l of this suggests that even
if the preludes are taken to teach the citizens (for example, w i t h iraiSevei at 857 E 3),
that does not necessarily mean that they provide rational education for the citizens.
5 0
Cf. 822 E—823 A .
Moral Education in Plato's Laws 9i
sal agreement about w h a t is p r a i s e w o r t h y a n d blameworthy. T o the
extent t h a t he succeeds, citizens w i l l behave correctly. F o r t h a t rea
son, the lawgiver 'reveres w i t h the greatest h o n o u r s ' the e m o t i o n o f
shame, a n d he considers a lack o f shame to be the greatest p r i v a t e
a n d p u b l i c e v i l (647 A - B ) .
Second, the p u n i s h m e n t s themselves t h a t the laws e m p l o y c o n
sist largely, and often exclusively, o f blame, dishonour, a n d p u b l i c
h u m i l i a t i o n . T o give j u s t a few examples: the p e n a l t y for m e n w h o
5 1
i n his late dialogues Plato raises concerns about the value and effect
iveness o f w r i t i n g t h a t bear d i r e c t l y o n the w r i t t e n l e g i s l a t i o n o f the
Laws. I n the Phaedrus Socrates levels the c r i t i c i s m t h a t w r i t i n g en
courages readers to defer to the a u t h o r i t y o f the w r i t e r rather t h a n
to l e a r n for themselves. W r i t i n g , Socrates says, ' w i l l enable t h e m
to hear m a n y t h i n g s w i t h o u t b e i n g p r o p e r l y taught, a n d they w i l l
imagine t h a t they have come to k n o w m u c h w h i l e for the m o s t p a r t
they w i l l k n o w n o t h i n g ' (275 A 7 - B 1). H o w e v e r , i t is n o t j u s t t h a t
53
Bobonich ('Persuasion', 375—6, and Utopia, 113—14) addresses the fact that the
preludes sometimes offer myths that appeal to our appetitive impulses. Cf. Saun
ders, Penal, 210—11.
5 4
The prelude that comes closest to doing so is the prelude to the law on piety,
which takes up most of book 10. T h e Athenian offers some very sophisticated argu
ments i n support of the claims that the gods exist, that they care for human beings,
and that they are not subject to bribery. However, the Athenian makes it clear that
the prelude to the law on piety is directed at impious individuals, many of whom
hold the beliefs that they do, not because they have vicious non-rational desires, but
because of ignorance (886 B ; 887 c—888 B ) . Indeed, some of them are 'naturally just'
and become impious 'without evil anger or disposition' (908 B , E ) . Moreover, the
Athenian makes it clear that impiety is special among crimes i n being (at least some
times) a purely rational failure of this sort. Given its uniqueness in this regard, it
makes sense that the prelude on impiety should appeal to rationality i n a way that
the others do not. Annas ('Virtue', 88) concurs that the prelude to the impiety law
requires special attention to argument: 'Citizens who have once got the idea of athe
ism need to be met w i t h argument, since a rational challenge to tradition has to be
met on its own ground.'
Moral Education in Plato's Laws 93
readers do n o t , as a m a t t e r o f fact, learn f r o m w r i t i n g ; rather, they
cannot learn f r o m i t . L e a r n i n g requires questioning, w h i c h w r i t i n g
does n o t p e r m i t :
55
A n d cf. the characterization of wine as an educational (j>ap[j.aKov at 646 c 4, 647 E
1, 649 A 3, 666 B 6, and 672 D 7.
5 6
This point is noted by Nightingale ('Sacred', 288). We should also note the cri
tique of writing, and of written law, that is voiced i n the Seventh Letter (344 c—D).
5 7
I n general, the Laws does not promote an environment that is conducive to ra
tional, philosophical enquiry. T h i s point is noted i n Nightingale ('Sacred', 293—6),
Grube {Thought, 250), and M o r r o w ('Persuasion', 248—50). Morrow, for example,
writes: ' I t is hard to imagine how any citizen who had been subjected for thirty years
or more to the strictly supervised regimen we have described could retain the critical
power and the freedom of mind required for [dialectical and philosophical] study'
(248). Bobonich, on the other hand, argues that the Athenian does intend for the citi
zens to cultivate their rational skills i n a significant way (Utopia, 106—9). As evidence,
he draws attention to the fact that the citizens learn some mathematics, including the
doctrine of incommensurability, as well as some astronomy. Bobonich takes this to
indicate that the citizens are learning about non-sensible value properties, and that,
in doing so, they are being prepared for arguments, contained in the preludes, about
what is good for them. However, there is another way of interpreting the purpose of
these studies. The Athenian makes it clear that the purpose of learning astronomy is
to dispel the m y t h that the heavenly bodies are 'wanderers' that move without order,
and that the purpose of learning about incommensurability is that doing so intro
duces the citizens to 'divine necessity' (817 E—820 D ) . I n other words, the citizens
learn just what is useful for making them pious believers in the gods. (And note that
at 820 D 4—6 the Athenian says that these studies are not 'difficult' to learn, suggest-
Moral Education in Plato's Laws 95
ing that what the citizens are learning is actually unexceptional.) The point is not to
teach them about the Good (or even to prepare them for teaching about the Good),
but simply to make them acknowledge the active role of the divine in the universe.
Why is this so important? Because the revered status granted to the Magnesian laws
depends on the claim that those laws come from god. The citizens w i l l not be suf
ficiently reverent towards those laws, therefore, unless they believe that god exists
and watches over human affairs. M y reading receives further support from the fact
that, i n his closing remarks of the dialogue, the Athenian claims that no one who has
recognized the orderly motion of the stars can fail to recognize the existence of the
gods (966 E 2—967 A 1).
5 8
T h i s point is well made by Nightingale ('Sacred', 287, and 'Lawcode', 118—19)
and Stalley ('Persuasion', 170).
5 9
See Nightingale, 'Sacred', 291—3.
6 0
There are at least two reasons, however, for doubting that the reasons offered
by the preludes for complying w i t h the laws really are good reasons for holding true
beliefs. First, many of the arguments that are presented in the preludes are, as Stal
ley puts i t , 'embarrassingly bad' ('Persuasion', 171). T h i s is true even i f we leave
aside the many dubious myths and superstitions that some preludes advocate. Take,
for example, the prelude to the law on marriage, the Athenian's model prelude. The
argument it offers for the good of marriage is that having children provides a way
of satisfying the natural desire to be immortal and 'to become famous and not to lie
nameless after one has died' (721 c). I t seems clear, however, that the desire for fame
cannot be the right Platonic reason for doing anything, and, i n any event, the argu
ment certainly fails to explain why marriage has to take place between the ages of thirty
and thirty-five. But secondly, it is not even clear that it is good for everyone to marry
(or at least to marry at those ages). I n the Statesman the Eleatic Visitor criticizes
written legislation on the grounds that, given the unpredictability and variety of h u
man affairs and individual circumstances, ' i t is impossible to devise, for any given
situation, a simple rule that w i l l apply for everyone for ever' (294 B 4—6). Rather,
'his regulations for each community w i l l be rather imprecise and w i l l be concerned,
I think, w i t h the majority of the population, w i t h the most common situations, and
w i t h being broadly right' (295 A 5—8). What the Eleatic Visitor's remarks strongly
suggest is that, for at least some of the citizens, it w i l l not always be better for them
to obey at least some of the laws—the marriage law, for example. The fact that Plato
himself never married suggests that he did not endorse the Magnesian marriage law
as an absolute rule for living a good life (a point made by Stalley, 'Persuasion', 172).
I f this is right, then for those citizens in those circumstances i n which following a
g6 Joshua Wilburn
given law is not actually best for them, the preludes w i l l offer them reasons for hold
ing a belief—that following the law is good for them—that is not i n their case true.
Cf. I r w i n , ' M o r a l i t y ' , 95—9, who notes the problem of generality that written law
suffers from, but thinks that the external, written law is ideally supplemented by
each citizen's own 'internal law'.
61
Cf. the discussion in Nightingale, 'Sacred', 295.
6 2
See e.g. Rep. 442 A 2. Cf. Kamtekar, 'Psychology', 147.
6 3
Moral Education in Plato's Laws 97
6 4
'Agency', 27. 6 5
' S e l f , 137-8.
98 Joshua Wilburn
shift i n , or at least an expansion of, the role that the thumoeides plays
i n m o r a l development and v i r t u e : i n the Laws, the s p i r i t e d p a r t o f
the soul is no longer s i m p l y the ally o f reason, b u t n o w also, and
perhaps p r i m a r i l y , the ally of law.
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102 Joshua Wilburn
SUSANNE BOBZIEN
(A) (1) For where we are free to act we are also free to refrain from acting,
(2) and where we are able to say N o we are also able to say Yes. (Arist.
NE 11 i 3 7 - 8 , trans. Rackham)
b 1
T h e phrases 'we are free t o ' a n d 'we are able t o ' b o t h (seem t o )
translate e</>' i)p.iv (ioTiv). T h i s sentence f r o m the Nicomachean Ethics
o f t e n seems to be c o n s i d e r e d c r u c i a l f o r the i n t e r p r e t a t i o n o f A r i s
totle's v i e w o n the q u e s t i o n o f w h e t h e r h u m a n s have i n d e t e r m i n i s t
free c h o i c e . H e r e are the G r e e k lines o f w h i c h ( A ) is p u r p o r t e d to
2
be a t r a n s l a t i o n , f r o m B y w a t e r ' s O x f o r d e d i t i o n : 3
(B) (1) Iv ots yap r)piv TO TrpdrTeiv, Kal TO pi) TTpdrretv, (2) Kal Iv ols TO
pf], Kal TO vat.
(C) (1) For, where to act is up to us, also to not act (is up to us), (2) and
where to not (is up to us), also to yes (is up to us).
(D) (1) For, where (the) acting is up to us, also (the) not acting (is up to
us), (2) and where (the) not (is up to us), also (the) yes (is up to us).
• But i f the question is clear and simple, he should answer either yes or
no.
edv be Kat craves fj Kat IXTTXOVV TO epcoTcopievov, r/ vat rj ov aTTOKptreov. (Top.
160*33-4)
• T h e person questioned should answer either yes or no.
T O TJ vat TJ ov aTTOKptveoOat rov Ipcorojiievov. (SE I 7 5 9 ) b — I O
cum (or i n any o f the ancient Greek texts i n the Thesaurus Linguae
Graecae) w h i c h have T O and T O vai opposed i n a sentence or se
quence o f sentences. 8
2, 'what assertion and denial are i n thought, pursuit and avoidance are i n
desire', which seems to mean that pursuing some end is itself a way of as
serting that the thing is to be pursued (or that i t is good) and avoiding
something a way of denying that i t is to be pursued (or that i t is good). 10
(E) (1) For, where to act is up to us, also to not act (is up to us), (2) and
where to not act (is up to us), also to act (is up to us).
liberates w h e t h e r to do s o m e t h i n g ; i t is u p to t h e m to choose n o t to
do i t ; i n this case, t h e i r choosing involves t h e i r t e l l i n g themselves
' d o n ' t act!'.
I n s u p p o r t o f this reading, reference c o u l d be made to A r i s t o t l e ' s
sporadic allusions to the use o f syllogisms i n practical reasoning
i n the Ethics. A n example w o u l d be NE i i 4 7 3 4 , o f a u n i v e r s a l
a
premiss, ' i t says to a v o i d t h i s ' (17 piev ovv Xeyei cj>evyeiv TOVTO). An
other passage one m i g h t adduce is NE 1 i 4 3 8 - 9 , 'for p r a c t i c a l w i s
a
(F) (1) lv ofe ydp £c^>' rjp.iv TO rrpaTTeiv, Kal TO pi) TrpaTTeiv, (2) Kal Iv 01s TO pi)
{rrpd^jji;) Kal TO {rrpd^ov);
i n translation:
(G) (1) For, where to act is up to us, also to not act (is up to us), (2) and
where the 'don't (act!' is up to us), also the 'do (act!' is up to us).
1 1
T h i s use of [ir] w i t h the aorist subjunctive has a parallel i n the L a t i n ne.
Found in Translation 109
to T O oil) i n c o n j u n c t i o n w i t h an i m p l i c i t verb o f s a y i n g . S t i l l , such
12
1 2
I have not found this reading of (B) explicitly defended anywhere, but I doubt
that I am the first to consider this option. Perhaps Taylor, NE, 164 (quoted above),
had something similar i n mind.
I IO Suzanne Bobzien
(H) ( i ) For, where to act is up to us, also to not act (is up to us), (2) and
where to not (act is up to us), also . . .
(I) (1) For, where to act is up to us, also to not act (is up to us), (2) and
where to not (act is up to us), also to (act is up to us).
(1) ev 01s yap ec^i' rjpiiv TO rrpdrreiv, Kal TO pirj rrpdrreiv, (2) Kal ev 01s TO
{rrpdrreiv e^ rj/jiv), Kal TO {rrpdrreiv e^ rj^jiiv).
I n other words, T O vai is short for 'to act is u p to us' ( T O rrpdrreiv icp'
retv)\ NE I I43 8—9 rt yap Set rrpdrretv rj [irj (i.e. rrpdrretv), TO Te'Ao? avrrjs eortv] E E
a
I223 5~8 <j>o.vep6v art evoe%erat Kat ytveodat Kat [irj (i.e. ytveodat), Kal art e<j>' avrqj
a
ravr'
eort ytveodat Kat [irj (i.e. ytveodat), djv ye Kvptos eort rov etvat Kat rov jirj etvat. ooa S' e<^'
avrqj eort rrotetv rj firj rrotetv. Cf. also Metaph. \o\2?~j—8 Tt? fiev ovv ota^jopa rov drrXcos
Kat jirj (i.e. ytveodat) drrXdjs, ev rot? <j>votKots e'tprjrat; Rhet. I 3 5 9 3 6 rdjv evoe-
a
ytyveodat
yoiievojv Kat ytyveodat Kat [irj (i.e. ytveodat); Ath. Pol. 4 3 . 5 Kat rrept rrjs 6orpa.KO<j>opta.s
errt^etporovtav otooaotv, et ooKet rrotetv rj [irj (i.e. 7rotetV).
Found in Translation 111
14
Georgius Choeroboscus, Prolegomena et scholia in Theodosii Alexandrini canones
isagogicos de flexione verborum, ed. A . Hilgard (GG 4.2; Leipzig, 1894), 86. 29—31;
cf. ibid. 85. 17-18; 86. 34-5; 336. 25-6.
15
Eustratius of Nicaea, Orationes, ed. A . Demetrakopoulos ('EKKXr/oiaoTiKri B i -
fiXioBr/Kri, 1; Leipzig, 1866; repr. Hildesheim, 1965), oration 3, 86. 23—6. T h e other
two parallels are: Joannes X I Beccus [the Patriarch], Four Books to Constantine Meli-
teniotes, ed. J.-P. Migne (Patrologia Graeca, 141; Paris, 1865), 337—96 at 388. 16—18:
erepov TOJ TT)V Ytov SLSOVTL eKTropevoiv <j>rjaeie rt? etrat Sta OTTOvSrjS, rj a.7TevavTtas rot?
avriXeyovoL, (15) [leretvaL TTJS atrt'a? TavTrjS TOJ YLOJ avviarav; et ydp rj dpvrjOLS 6id T O fir/,
r) 6[j.oXoyia TTavrais Sid TO vai; and Manuel I I Palaeologus [the Emperor, orator, and
theologian (1350—1425)], Dialogi cum mahometano, dialogue 17, in Piissimi et sapien-
tissimi imperatoris Manuelis Palaeologi opera omnia, theologica, polemica, panegyrica,
paedagogica, ed. J.-P. Migne (Patrologia Graeca, 156; Paris, 1866), 221. 29—31: aAA'
I I2 Suzanne Bobzien
(J) (i) Denn wenn es bei uns liegt zu handeln, (liegt es) auch (bei uns) nicht
zu handeln, (2) und wenn ((es bei uns liegt)) nicht ((zu handeln)), dann
auch doch ((zu handeln)). 16
(K) (1) For, where acting is up to us, also not acting (is up to us), (2) and
where not ((acting is up to us)), also ((acting)) too.
thus ruled out. The interpretations behind (A) do not explain the inverted order.
Proponents of (A) could plead the rhetorical device of chiasmus, but it would be a
somewhat unusual and strained case.
19
EE 1223*5-9; 1225*9-10; i225 35-6; 1226*27-8; i 2 2 6 3 o - i ; NE 3. 1, 1110*17-
b b
18; 3. 5, 1115*2—3, 1125*26; cf. S. Bobzien, ' T h e Inadvertent Conception and Late
B i r t h of the Free-Will Problem' ['Free W i l l ' ] , Phronesis, 43 (1998), 133-75 143-5,
a t
also 139—40.
3 0
A t NE 1113 i4 Aristotle moves on to consider a possible objection.
b
3 1
Here I ignore the debate as to whether (i) the whole paragraph ni3 6—14 is b
meant to show that vice is up to us, w i t h Aristotle taking it to have been shown
already that virtue is up to us (the asymmetry reading); or whether (ii) the whole
paragraph is meant to show that both virtue and vice (acting virtuously and acting
viciously) are up to us. I believe (ii) is right, and that a good case can be made for
this, which I hope to do elsewhere. For the question whether NE 1113 7—8 supportsb
undetermined choice in Aristotle, this debate is of only minor importance. (Cf. also
the next footnote.)
ii4 Suzanne Bobzien
(N) Hence, (1) if to act, being noble, is up to us, also to not act, being
shameful, will be up to us, and (2) if to not act, being noble, is up to
us, also to act, being shameful, (will be) up to us.
COOT' ( I ) el TO TTparreiv KOXOV OV i<j>' yfiiv earl, Kal TO fir/ vpa.TTe.iv ecf>'
rjp.iv eorai aloxpov ov, Kal (2) el TO pirf TTparreiv KaXov ov r)piv, Kal TO
TTparreiv aloxpov ov rjpiiv. (NE 1113 8—11)
b
(B2) Kal Iv ots TO pi) {TrpaTTeiv ijpiv ecrrt) Kal TO {TrpaTTetv ijpiv eoTi).
(J2) and where to not (act is up to us), also to (act is up to us).
(O2) and if saying yes, being noble, is up to us, also saying no, being
shameful, is up to us.
33
For the purpose of this addition at this p o i n t i n b o o k 3 of the Nicomachean Ethics
see S. Bobzien, 'Choice and Moral Responsibility in Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics
iii 1—5', i n R. Polansky (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to the Nicomachean Eth
ics (Cambridge, 2013), forthcoming. For a different view see R. Sorabji, Necessity,
Cause and Blame: Perspectives on Aristotle's Theory [Necessity] (London, 1980), 248
n. 14 and 230.
116 Suzanne Bobzien
6. R e c e p t i o n i n ' p o p u l a r c u l t u r e '
3 4
(http://www.angelfirexom/moon/immortal_quotaUtions/proverbs.html>
[accessed 27 Jan. 2013].
35
(http://oxygenfactory.com.au/teen-quote/) [accessed 27 Jan. 2013].
3 6
(http://www.dreamscapes.co.za/daydreams/ddo25) [accessed 27 Jan. 2013].
3 7
(http://morequotations.com/Quotations/will.html) [accessed 27 Jan. 2013].
3 8
(http://medicine.uitm.edu.my/index.php/home/244?date= 2010-10-01)
[accessed 10 Jan. 2010].
Found in Translation 117
• W e f i n d i t as the q u o t a t i o n a c c o m p a n y i n g a p h o t o g r a p h o f a
c h a r i t y celebration i n N i n n a Gay, Shifts: Beyond the Visible
( C e n t r a l M i l t o n Keynes, 2010), 26.
• I n I a n M c T a v i s h ' s A Prisoner's Wisdom ( A ) is interspersed to
encourage choice that transcends the E g o . 30
39
(http://therabexperience.blogspot.com/2008/03/positive-thought-for-saturday_
15.html) [accessed 27 Jan. 2013].
3 0
I . McTavish, A Prisoner's Wisdom: Transcending the Ego (Bloomington,
2012), 56.
31
J. A . O'Brien, Truths Men Live By: A Philosophy of Religion and Life [Truths]
(New York, 1946), 247.
33
(https://twitter.com/Dance_With_Life/status/120787725531103232) [accessed
27 Jan. 2013].
33
(http://edithorial.blogspot.com/2012/03/on-treason.html) [accessed 27 Jan.
2013].
n8 Suzanne Bobzien
reception o f NE 3. 5, 11 i 3 7 - 8 , f r o m the p o i n t o f v i e w o f v e r i d i c a -
b
7. R e c e p t i o n i n p o p u l a r p h i l o s o p h y a n d n o n - a n c i e n t p h i l o s o p h y
MenLive By;39
M a x H a m b u r g e r mMorals and Law, 'assuming that
w h e n we can say " n o " we also can say "yes" a n d that i t is therefore
i n o u r p o w e r to act i n h a r m o n y w i t h goodness as w e l l as w i t h b a d
ness', w i t h reference to 11 i 3 7 - i 1 ; ° D a v i d Buchanan, i n An Ethic
b 4
34
For instance, many of the anecdotes in Diogenes Laertius' Lives of the Philo
sophers are told, often almost verbatim, about different philosophers, sometimes i n
the same work, sometimes i n other ancient authors. Cf. Diogenes Laertius, Vitae
philosophorum, vol. i, ed. M . Marcovich (Berlin, 1999).
35
The reader is encouraged to Google 'where we are able to say no, we are also
able to say yes' (with the quotation marks) for verification.
36
T. Kiros, Self-Construction and the Formation of Human Values: Truth, Lan
guage, and Desire (Westport, Conn., 1998), 84.
3 7
J. Naydler, The Future of the Ancient World: Essays on the History of Conscious
ness (Rochester, 2009), 197—8.
38
G. J. Stack, 'Aristotle and Kierkegaard's Existential Ethics', Journal of the His
tory of Philosophy, 12(1974), 1—19. O'Brien, Truths, 248.
3 9
4 0
M . Hamburger, Morals and Law: The Growth of Aristotle's Legal Theory (New
Haven, 1951), 31.
41
D. R. Buchanan, An Ethic for Health Promotion: Rethinking the Sources of Hu
man Well-Being (Oxford, 2000), 55.
Found in Translation 119
D o y l e , i n his e-book o n Free Will, quotes ( A ) i n s u p p o r t o f A r i s
totle b e i n g an agent-causal l i b e r t a r i a n . 42
8. A n c i e n t a n d B y z a n t i n e c o m m e n t a t o r s a n d c o m m e n t a r i e s 43
4 3
(http://www.informationphilosopher.com/solutions/philosophers/aristotle/)
[accessed 27 Jan. 2013].
4 3
For detailed information about the ancient commentaries on the Nicomachean
Ethics see H . P. F. Mercken, ' T h e Greek Commentators on Aristotle's Ethics', i n
R. Sorabji (ed.), Aristotle Transformed (London, 1990), 407—10. For detailed infor
mation about the Byzantine commentaries on the Nicomachean Ethics see C. Barber
and D. Jenkins, Medieval Greek Commentaries on the Nicomachean Ethics (Leiden,
2009).
4 4
Aspasius, In Ethica Nicomachea quae supersunt commentaria, ed. G. Heylbut
(Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca, 19.1; Berlin, 1889), 76. 8—16.
4 5
See The Arabic Version of the Nicomachean Ethics [Arabic NE], ed. A . A .
Akasoy and A. Fidora, with intro. and trans, by D. M . Dunlop (Leiden, 2005), 23—7,
for the evidence.
120 Suzanne Bobzien
R h o d e s or to H e l i o d o r u s o f Prusa) " 4 6
b u t c h e r s NE i i i 3 7 - 8 in a
b
9. M e d i e v a l L a t i n t r a n s l a t i o n s a n d
c o m m e n t a r i e s ( t w e l f t h a n d t h i r t e e n t h centuries)
4 6
[Heliodorus of Prusa], InEthicaNicomacheaparaphrasis, ed. G. Heylbut ( C o m -
mentaria i n Aristotelem Graeca, 19.2; Berlin, 1889). T h e date of composition is u n
known. T h e terminus ante quern is 1366, the date of the earliest manuscript. Michele
Trizio argues that the anonymous author relied on Eustratius of Nicaea's commen
tary on the Nicomachean Ethics ( M . Trizio, 'On the Byzantine Fortune of Eustratios
of Nicaea's Commentary on Books I and V I of the Nicomachean Ethics', i n K . Iero-
diakonou and B. Byden (eds.), The Many Faces of Byzantine Philosophy (Athens,
2012), 199-224).
4 7
Eustratius of Nicaea, Eustratii et Michaelis et anonyma in Ethica Nicomachea
commentaria, ed. G. Heylbut (Commentaria in Aristotelem Graeca, 20; Ber
lin, 1892); Michael of Ephesus, Michaelis Ephesii in librum quartum Ethicorum
Nicomacheorum commentarium, ed. M . Hayduck (Commentaria i n Aristotelem
Graeca, 22.3; Berlin, 1901).
4 8
Georgios Pachymeres, Philosophia, 11. Ethica Nicomachea, ed. K . Oikono-
makos (Corpus Philosophorum M e d i i Aevi, Commentaria i n Aristotelem Byzantina,
3; Athens, 2005).
4 9
[Anonymus], In Aristotelis Ethica Nicomachea ii—v commentaria, in Eustratii et
Michaelis et anonyma in Ethica Nicomachea commentaria, ed. G. Heylbut (Comment
aria in Aristotelem Graeca, 20; Berlin, 1892), 122—255.
Found in Translation I 21
(Q) In quibus enim in nobis operari, et non operari; et in his, utique et
non. ° s
(S) In quibuscumque enim in nobis est operari ilia, in illis eisdem in nobis
est non operari eadem: et in quibus in nobis est non operari aliqua, in
illis eisdem est etiam in nobis operari eadem. (Albertus Magnus, Liber
I I I Ethicorum, tract. 1, cap. xxi. 28, p. 227 Borgnet) 53
(T) E t dicit quod simili ratione etiam malitia est voluntaria et in nobis ex-
istens, quia operationes eius sunt tales. E t hoc sic probat: quia si ope-
50
Burgundius Pisanus translator Aristotelis, Ethica Nicomachea: translatio an-
tiquissima librorum I I et I I I sine 'Ethica uetus', ed. R. A . Gauthier (Aristoteles L a -
tinus, 26.1—3, 2nd fasc; Turnhout, 1972), pp. 5—48, Clavis: 26. 1. 1 ( M ) , liber: 3,
cap.: 6, p. 32. 22. Six commentaries on the Nicomachean Ethics were also translated
by Burgundio of Pisa, but I have not been able to check these; two remain unpub
lished.
51
R. Grosseteste (trans.), Ethica Nicomachea: libril—III; VIII. 1—5 (6) ('recen-
sio pura'—Burgundii translationis recensio), ed. R. A. Gauthier (Aristoteles Latinus,
26.1 —3, 3 d fasc; Turnhout, 1972), pp. 141—201, 271—305. 5, Clavis: 26. 2. 1 ( M ) ,
r
liber: 3, cap.: 7, p. 187. 23. This translation was known as the recensio pura.
53
William of Moerbeke (trans.), Aristotelis secundum exemplar Parisiacum: Ethica
Nicomachea ('recensio recognita'—Roberti Grosseteste translationis recensio), ed. R. A .
Gauthier (Aristoteles Latinus, 26.1—3, 4th fasc; Turnhout, 1974), pp. 375—588,
Clavis: 26. 3, liber: 3, cap.: 7, p. 418. 10. This translation was known as the recensio
recognita.
53
Albertus Magnus, Opera omnia, ed. A. Borgnet (Paris, 1891), vol. vii. Ethica.
122 Suzanne Bobzien
rari est in potestate nostra, oportet etiam quod non operari sit
in potestate nostra. Si enim non operari non esset in potestate nostra,
impossibile esset nos non operari: ergo necesse esset nos operari: et sic
operari non esset ex nobis, sed ex necessitate. Et similiter dicit quod
in quibus rebus non operari est in potestate nostra, consequens
est quod etiam operari sit in potestate nostra. Si enim operari non
esset in potestate nostra, impossibile esset nos operari. Ergo necesse
esset nos non operari: et sic non operari non esset ex nobis, sed ex ne
cessitate. (Aquinas, Sent. Eth., lectio 11 ([73201] Sententia Ethic., lib.
3 1. 11 n. 2); emphasis mine) 54
and J o h n B u r i d a n . 5 6
t u r n to i t next.
54
Thomas Aquinas, Sententia libri Etkicorum, in Opera omnia, ed. R. A. Gauth-
ier, vol. x l v i i / i (Rome, 1969).
55
Walter Burley, Expositio librorum Ethicorum (Venice, 1481; 2nd edn. 1500).
Burley provides a vice-versa translation and there is no hint of a saying-no under
standing i n the commentary. Burley is concerned with the relation between what is
e<^' rijiLv and Aristotle's notion of two-sided possibility or contingency. Sorabji, Ne
cessity, 234 and 228 n. 1, makes a similar point about (B).
56
J. Buridan, Quaestiones super decern libros Ethicorum Aristotelis ad Nicomachum
(Paris, 1513); repr. as Super decern libros Ethicorum (Frankfurt a.M., 1968). Buridan's
commentary is i n question-and-answer format, and I have found nothing i n it that
concerns (B) directly.
57
Akasoy and Fidora, Arabic NE, 1-2, 27-8, 94-5. Ibid. 26, 62, 106.
5 8
Found in Translation 123
(U) (1) For the things that are up to us to do, (then) it is up to us not to do;
(2) and the things concerning which we say no(i), (then) concerning
those we say yes. (italics mine)
59
(V) (1) For (ydp) the things that (ev ots) are up to us (e<f>' r)piv) to do (TO
TrpdrTeiv), (then) (*at) it is up to us ((e<f>' r)plv)) not to do (TO pi) rrpdr-
reiv); (2) and («ai) the things concerning which (Iv ots) we say no(t) ° 6
( T O pr)), (then) (Kal) concerning those ((ev ots)) we say yes (TO v a i ) .
(W) (1) That is, the things which are in our power to do are in our power
not to do, (2) and we may also say No in regard to the things in regard
to which we may say Yes.
(N) Hence, (1) i f to act, being noble, is up to us, also to not act, being
shameful, w i l l be up to us, and (2) i f to not act, being noble, is up to
us, also to act, being shameful, (will be) up to us (NE 1113 8-i 1), b
(X) A n d , i f the doing of the noble is up to us, [assumed lacuna] then also
the doing of the shameful is up to us. 62
T h e A r a b i c t r a n s l a t i o n h a d a discernible direct i m p a c t o n l y i n
the A r a b i c - s p e a k i n g w o r l d . I b n Sina (c.980-1037) p r o b a b l y k n e w
i t . I b n R u s h d (1126-98) a n d Moses M a i m o n i d e s (1135-1204) were
definitely f a m i l i a r w i t h i t a n d used i t for t h e i r w o r k s . I t s i m p a c t
6 6
6 4
Akasoy and Fidora, Arabic NE, 103—4. For details about the transmission pro
cess and reliability of the manuscript see also E. A. Schmidt and M . Ullmann, Aris
toteles in Fes: Zum Wert der arabiscken Uberlieferung der Nikomachischen Etkik' fur
die Kritik des griechischen Textes (Heidelberg, 2012).
6 5
Cf. ibid. 94-5.
6 6
Ibid. 31-55. Ibid. 18, 41-2, 45.
6 7
6 8
Aristotle/Averroes, Aristotelis opera cum Averrois commentariis [2nd jfuntine],
vol. iii (Venice, 1562; repr. Frankfurt a.M., 1963). I b n Rushd, Averroes' Middle
Commentary on Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics in the Hebrew Version of Samuel ben
jfudak, ed. L . Berman (Jerusalem, 1999).
126 Suzanne Bobzien
l o w i n g t w o sentences.
(Y) Et res quas agere in nobis est, non agere eas in nobis est. Si igitur agere
actiones pulcras in nobis est, etiam res turpes agere in nobis est. 70
comments u p o n is: 71
(Z) (1) E t hoc quoniam res, quas facere in nobis est: et non facere eas in no
bis est: . . . (2) et in quibus rebus dicimus sic, in his quoque possumus
dicere non. (3) Et si fuerit in nobis facere res pulchras, ergo et facere
res turpes in nobis est. (4) Cumque fuerit in nobis facere res pulchras,
et res turpes, et fuerit in nobis facere eas et non facere.
7 4
Cf. A. A. Akasoy and A. Fidora, 'Hermannus Alemannus und die alia translatio
der Nikomachischen Ethik', Bulletin depkilosopkie medievale, 44 ( 2 0 0 2 ) , 79—93.
128 Suzanne Bobzien
11. M o d e r n r e c e p t i o n o f NE 11 i 3 7 - 8
b
(AA) . . . nam in quibus utrum agamus uci non agamus in nobis est: et in
nostra sunt potestate. 78
(BB) Quibus enim in rebus nostra in potestate situm est agere in iis et non
agere. E t in quibus non agere: in iis est et agere 79
(CC) Quas enim res in nobis situm est, ut agamus, eas etiam in nobis si-
tum est, ut ne agamus. Quasque res in nobis situm est ut non agamus,
easdem ut agamus in nostra est potestate. 81
( D D ) Quas enim res agere in nobis situm est, easdem non agere possumus:
et quas non agere in nobis situm est, earundem quoque agendarum
potestas nostra est. 82
8 0
Cf. e.g. I . P. Bejczy (ed.), Virtue Ethics in the Middle Ages: Commentaries on
Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics 1200—1500 (Leiden, 2008). Bejczy's introduction
gives a useful overview.
81
I . Perion (trans.), Aristoteles: De Moribvs qu[a]e Ethica nominantur, ad Nico-
machu[m] filium, libri decern (Paris, 1540; repr. Basel 1542).
8 3
D. Lambin (trans.), Aristoteles: In libros De moribus adNicomachum annotatio-
nes (Venice, 1558).
8 3
D. Lambin (trans.), Aristoteles: Ethicorum Nicomachiorum libri decern, ed. T.
Zwinger (Basel, 1566). Our sentence is at p. 144.
8 4
D. Lambin (trans.), Aristoteles: Ethicorum Nicomacheorum libri decern, ed. W.
Wilkinson (Oxford, 1716). Our sentence is at p. 99.
130 Suzanne Bobzien
Since i n L a t i n the w o r d for ' n o t ' (non) also means 'no' a n d the
relevant w o r d for ' t o o / d o c h ' (etiam) also means 'yes', the G r o s
seteste/Moerbeke t r a n s l a t i o n is theoretically c o m p a t i b l e w i t h a
saying-no reading, w i t h a verb o f saying u n d e r s t o o d . A c c o r d i n g l y ,
i n p r i n c i p l e , the t e x t o f the Nicomachean Ethics and c o m m e n t a r y
o n 11 i 3 7 - 8 i n this 1483 v o l u m e w o u l d be c o m p a t i b l e .
b
(EE) In quibus enim in nostra potestate situm est agere, situm est et non
agere. et in quibus non agere, simili modo et agere.
offered:
(FF) Ubi enim penes nos est ut aliquid agamus, ibi est etiam ut non aga-
mus. Et ubi affirmandi potestas est, ibi et negandi est.
12. C o m m e n t a r i e s a n d m o d e r n - l a n g u a g e translations
i n the n i n e t e e n t h and early t w e n t i e t h centuries
(GG) Ends are then the objects of volition; and the means of attaining them
are the objects of deliberation and preference; which, being conver
sant only about such things as are in our power, the virtues imme
diately proceeding from them must also be in our own power, and
voluntary, as well as the contrary vices.
m o r e literal a n d p r o v i d e s a t r a d i t i o n a l vice-versa t r a n s l a t i o n o f NE
1113V8:
9 1
J. Gillies (trans.), Aristotle's Ethics and Politics, Comprising his Practical Philo
sophy (London, 1789).
9 3
V. C. Garve (trans, and comm.), DieEthik des Aristoteles, 2 vols. (Breslau, 1798—
1801) (partly posthumous edition).
9 3
I . Bekker (ed.), Aristotelis opera (Berlin, 1831).
9 4
K . L . Michelet's Ethicorum Nicomacheorum libri decern. Ad codicum manuscrip-
torum et veterum editionum fidem recensuit commentariis illustravit in usum scholarum
suarum, 2 vols. (Berlin, 1829; 2nd edn. 1835), also has (B). I n the preface (vol. i, p. vi)
Michelet acknowledges that he used I b n Rushd's commentary. But it left no trace
with respect to 11 i3 7—8 (ibid. i. 50; ii. 156).
b
9 5
There are also more Latin vice-versa translations, e.g. i n Karl Zell's Graeco-
Latin edition of the Nicomachean Ethics: K . Zell (trans.), Aristotelis Ethica Nicoma-
chea (Heidelberg, 1820).
134 Suzanne Bobzien
1818 w i t h T h o m a s T a y l o r , f o l l o w e d 1828 b y an A n o n y m o u s ,
9 6 9 7
(JJ) Where the power of action depends upon our own selves, in such cases
there is also the power of forbearing; and where there is a power of for
bearing, there is also a power of acting
(KK) But if the doing of good be within our own power, the refraining
from good will be within our power, since where there is 'nay' there
is also 'yea.' 99
1889, 100
J. E . C. W e l l d o n i n 1 8 9 2 , 101
Edward Moore in 1902, 102
( L L ) For where it is in our power to act it is also in our power not to act,
and vice versa.
parts of ch. 10), 138: ' I f it is in our own power to act, it must also be in our own
power not to act (else our action was not really i n our power but was compulsory),
and vice versa.'
103
D. Ross, Aristotle: The Nicomachean Ethics (Oxford, 1925); repr. in J. Barnes
(ed.), The Complete Works of Aristotle: The Revised Oxford Translation (Oxford,
1984), ii. 1758.
104
G . Ramsauer and F . Susemihl, Aristotelis Ethica Nicomachea (Leipzig, 1878),
165 and 733; A. Grant, The Ethics of Aristotle (London 1866), ii. 26; J. A. Stewart,
Notes on the Nicomachean Ethics of Aristotle (Oxford, 1892), 274.
136 Suzanne Bobzien
(MM) Denn wo das T h u n in unserer Gewalt ist, da ist es auch das Unter-
lassen, und wo das Nein, da ist es auch das J a . 105
B o t h versions keep the parallel o f the article ' t o ' for ( B i ) and (B2).
I call this f a m i l y o f translations faux-literal, since they appear to be
w o r d - b y - w o r d , b u t translate \ir] w i t h ' n o ' .
Perhaps i t is n o coincidence that f a u x - l i t e r a l translations first
appear i n G e r m a n w o r k s . Conceivably, i t was the result o f the
a b o v e - m e n t i o n e d a m b i g u i t y i n the L a t i n (Section 11.2). I n the
m i d - n i n e t e e n t h c e n t u r y a L a t i n v e r s i o n o f the Nicomachean Ethics
was p r o b a b l y used as a guide i n t r a n s l a t i n g the Greek. N o w , as
stated above, i n L a t i n the w o r d for ' n o t ' (non) also means ' n o ' ; and
i n L a t i n (as i n Greek) the relevant w o r d for ' t o o / d o c h ' (etiam) also
means ' y e s ' . 107
T h u s the Grosseteste/Moerbeke l i t e r a l L a t i n for
(B2), 'et i n q u i b u s n o n , et eciam' (text ( R ) above), can be under
stood i n at least t w o ways, either o f w h i c h treats the ' n o n ' a n d the
' e t i a m ' as g r a m m a t i c a l l y parallel expressions. T h e r e is o n the one
h a n d the p a i r ' n i c h t (zu h a n d e l n ) ' a n d ' d o c h (zu h a n d e l n ) ' and o n
the other the p a i r 'das N e i n ' a n d 'das Ja'. I n G e r m a n and E n g l i s h
( i n contrast to R o m a n c e l a n g u a g e s ) 108
there is n o s t r a i g h t f o r w a r d
way o f c o v e r i n g b o t h readings i n one t r a n s l a t i o n . T h e translator
has to make a choice a n d m a y need some help i n m a k i n g this
choice. A t this p o i n t , commentaries a n d a n y t h i n g else that aids the
u n d e r s t a n d i n g o f a Greek passage—such as t e x t u a l parallels—may
become i m p o r t a n t . L i n g u i s t i c context and a r g u m e n t structure
were rarely a m o n g the aids i n early V i c t o r i a n times. T h u s i f a
c o m m e n t a r y based o n I b n R u s h d ' s was consulted o n the lines, this
m a y w e l l have been decisive a n d have p u s h e d a translator towards
the second ( f a u x - l i t e r a l ) o p t i o n .
105
J. Rieckher (trans.), Nikomachische Ethik (Stuttgart, 1856), 77: 'For where the
doing is i n our power, there the refraining is, too (i.e. in our power), and where the
No, there the Yes is too (i.e. i n our power).'
106
E. Rolfes (trans.) and G. Bien (ed.), Aristoteles: Nicomachische Ethik (Ham
burg, 1985), 55: 'For where the doing is i n our power, there the refraining is, too
(i.e. in our power), and where the No, there the Yes, too.'
107
See above, sect. 4, for the Greek and the German.
108
Some renderings into Romance languages simply retain the ambiguity.
Found in Translation 137
(OO) ( 1 ) Denn in alien Bereichen, wo das handeln bei uns steht, steht auch
das nicht handeln bei uns, (2) und wo wir Nein sagen koennen, koen-
nen wir auch Ja sagen. 111
( Q Q ) ( ) For where it lies with us to do, it lies with us not to do. (2) Where
l
(RR) But when I speak of the voluntariness of virtue or vice, you must
understand me to mean that the virtuous or vicious man is a free
agent, that there is no force acting upon him except what comes from
his own nature, except, in fact, himself. If he knows the right and the
wrong, it is as open to him to choose the one as the other. Where he
can do, he can refrain from doing, and where he can say 'no', he can
say 'yes'. 115
1869; 2nd edn. 1876; 3rd edn. 1879), 62. There are no comments or references other
than to Bekker's 1861 text.
113
Review of Williams, NE, i n The Spectator, 43 (1870), 178-80 at 178-9.
114
F. H . Peters (trans.), The Nicomachean Ethics of Aristotle (London, 1881),
74. (There are no notes or comments on this sentence, only general acknowledge
ment of prior translations and commentators, without any names, as well as of use
of Bekker, and i n the fifth edition (1893) of Bywater.)
115
S. G. Stock, Lectures in the Lyceum; or, Aristotle's Ethics for English Readers
(London, 1897), 179.
116
J. Burnet (comm.), The Ethics of Aristotle (London, 1900), 134.
Found in Translation 139
(SS) Choice is not the same thing as a voluntary act; nor is it desire, or
emotion, or exactly 'wish,' since we may wish for, but cannot make
choice of, the unattainable. Nor is it deliberation—rather, it is the act
of decision following deliberation. If man has the power to say yes,
he has equally the power to say no, and is master of his own action.
a n d m u c h - q u o t e d 1926 t r a n s l a t i o n , w h i c h is n o t h i n g b u t o u r sen
tence ( A ) , the sentence t h a t has become the A r i s t o t l e - m e m e :
(1) For where we are free to act we are also free to refrain from acting,
(2) and where we are able to say No we are also able to say Yes.
1 1 8
Cf. Bobzien, 'Free W i l l ' , 172-4.
1 1 9
See sect. 5 above for details.
Found in Translation 141
13. C o n t e m p o r a r y r e c e p t i o n i n ancient p h i l o s o p h y
consider t h e i r r e a d i n g o f the t e x t to be s t r a i g h t f o r w a r d a n d u n -
p r o b l e m a t i c . Examples are J o a c h i m i n 1951, D i r l m e i e r i n 1956,
G a u t h i e r - J o l i f i n 1 9 7 0 . T h e r e are vice-versa translations i n , for
120
1 3 0
H . H . Joachim and D. A . Rees, A r i s t o t l e : The Nicomachean Ethics. A Com
mentary (Oxford, 1951); F. Dirlmeier, A r i s t o t e l e s : Die Nikomachische E t h i k [NE 1]
(Berlin, 1956), and [ N E 2] (Stuttgart, 2003); R. A . Gauthier and J. Y. Jolif (trans,
and comm.), L'Ethique a Nicomaque [ E t h i q u e ] , 2nd edn. (Louvain, 1970).
131
Gauthier and Jolif, Ethique, i . 68: 'en effet, la ou il est en notre pouvoir d'agir, i l
est aussi en notre pouvoir de ne pas agir (et reciproquement, la ou le non est en notre
pouvoir, le out Test aussi)' (in French non+adj. translates 'not'; cf. also sinon for ' i f
not'; hence 'le non' for 'the not' is possible). A. E. Wardman in A. E. Wardman and
R. Bambrough, The Philosophy of A r i s t o t l e (New York and London, 1963), 359: ' T h e
point is that where we can act, we can also refrain, and vice versa.' H . G. Apostle
and L . P. Gerson (ed. and trans.), A r i s t o t l e : S e l e c t e d Works (Grinnell, 1983), 459:
'For where it is i n our power to act, it is also i n our power not to act, and where it is
in our power not to act, it is also i n our power to act\
1 3 3
Such as W. F. R. Hardie, A r i s t o t l e ' s E t h i c a l Theory (Oxford, 1968; 2nd edn.
1980), 178: '"where it is i n our power to act it is also i n our power not to act, and
v i c e v e r s a " (11 i3 7—8; cf. 11 i5 2—3)'.
b a
1 3 3
Dirlmeier, NE 2, 66: 'denn iiberall wo es i n unserer Macht steht zu handeln,
da steht es auch in unserer Macht, nicht zu handeln, und wo das Nein, da auch das
Ja'; O. Gigon, Die Nikomachische E t h i k (Zurich, 1967); A . Kenny, The Aristotelian
E t h i c s (Oxford 1978), 7—8: 'we are told that where it is in our power to do something,
it is also i n our power not to do it, and when the "no" is i n our power, the "yes" is
also ( i i i 3 7 — 8 ) ' ; T. I r w i n , The Nicomachean Ethics (Indianapolis, 1985), 66: 'for
b
14. C o n c l u s i o n
1 3 4
M . Ostwald (trans.), A r i s t o t l e : Nicomachean Ethics (Indianapolis, 1962), 65;
R. Crisp (trans.), A r i s t o t l e : Nicomachean Ethics (Cambridge, 2000), 45; Chris
topher Rowe i n S. Broadie and C. Rowe (trans.), A r i s t o t l e : Nicomachean Ethics
[ N E ] (Oxford, 2002), 130; Taylor, NE, 24.
1 3 5
S. Everson, 'Aristotle's Compatibilism i n the Nicomachean Ethics', Ancient
Philosophy, 10 (1990), 81—103 9°> repr. in L . P. Gerson (ed.), A r i s t o t l e :
a t
Psychology
and E t h i c s (London, 1999), 252—76; S. Broadie, E t h i c s with A r i s t o t l e [ E t h i c s ] (Oxford,
1991), 153—4, 5 6 , 159 w i t h n. 31, and S. Broadie, 'Philosophical Introduction', i n
:
Broadie and Rowe, NE, 9—91 at 40; Sparshott, L i f e , 130, 134 w i t h n. 82; Rapp, 'Frei-
willigkeit', 131; M . Pakaluk, A r i s t o t l e ' s Nicomachean Ethics: An I n t r o d u c t i o n (Cam
bridge, 2005), 145: ' I n cases in which it's up to us to carry out an action, it's also up
to us to refrain from carrying i t out; and i n cases i n which saying "no" is up to us,
saying "yes" is also up to us'; Taylor, NE, 164; Destree, 'Character', 289. Cf. also
the advertising and blurb for Bernard Williams's short (posthumously forthcoming)
book A H i s t o r y of Freedom: 'One of the things that distinguishes human beings from
animals is the sense of ourselves as free, autonomous individuals. I n the words of the
ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle: "Where we are free to act, we are also free not
to act, and where we are able to say ' N o ' , we are also able to say 'Yes'."' B. Williams,
A H i s t o r y of Freedom (London, forthcoming: Orion publishing I S B N 978—0—297—
81704-8).
Found in Translation 143
as an abbreviated v e r s i o n o f w h a t I have called vice-versa transla
tions; moreover, that saying-no translations are n o t accurate r e n
derings o f the t e x t we have. I n Part I I , Sections 6 and 7, I offered
a glimpse o f the m e m e - l i k e p r o l i f e r a t i o n o f saying-no translations
o f NE 11 i 3 7 ~ 8 i n present-day p o p u l a r c u l t u r e and p o p u l a r p h i l o
b
BIBLIOGRAPHY
BENJAMIN MORISON
i . Introduction
4
Phys. 6. 3, 234*32-3; cf. 5. 2, 2 2 6 i s - i 6 ; 6. 8, 239*13-14.
b
ISO Benjamin Morison
8
5. 1, 224 i; for other references see n. 36 below.
Pkys.
b
9
N o doubt P h y s i c s 5 and 6 also fulfil a further function, that of clarifying the pro
perties of change in preparation for the complex argument of P h y s i c s 8, which at
crucial points draws on theorems proven in those books, e.g. 8. 7, 26o i9—21. ( I am b
on 23S 30b
11
ev n row dSwdrajv T O VTrdp^ew avrfj Kivqoiv.
1 3
For a similar point see J. Rosen, ' M o t i o n and Change i n Aristotle's Physics 5. 1',
Phronesis, 57 (2012), 63—99 64. a t
Aristotle on Primary Time in Physics 6 155
OVK eoriv d/xepe's , avdyKr/ SiaipeTov etvai Kal iv OTCOOVV TCOV TOVTOV
-
ily it has changed, is in that to which it has changed: but the primary time
in which that which has changed has changed must be indivisible. I call
'primary' that which is such-and-such not i n virtue of something other
than it being such-and-such. For let [235 35] A C be divisible, and let it
b
I read fierefiaXev
13
here with E F K , rather than fierefiaWev,
3
which Ross prints.
More on this below.
Reading el S' (with the manuscripts) instead of Ross's e t r \
14
is6 Benjamin Morison
it was changing in both (for necessarily [236*1] i t must either have changed
or be changing i n both of them), then i t would be changing in the whole
too; but our assumption was that i t had changed. T h e same argument ap
plies too i f i t is changing i n one part but has changed i n the other: for there
will be something prior to what is primary. Therefore [236*5] the time i n
which i t has changed cannot be divisible. Thus i t is clear that both that
which has been destroyed and that which has come into being have been
destroyed and have come into being i n an indivisible time.
'The primary time i n which something has changed' is said i n two ways.
In one, i t is the primary time i n which the change finished (for at that point
it is true to say that it has changed), and i n the other i t is the primary time
in which the thing started [236*10] to change. T h e one that is said to be
primary i n relation to the end of the change is both real and exists (for i t is
possible for a change to finish, and there is an end of a change, which has
in fact also been shown to be indivisible since i t is a limit), whereas the one
in relation to the start of the change does not exist at all, for there is no be
ginning of a change, at least there is no [236*15] primary part of the time i n
which i t embarked on change. For let the primary time be A D . T h e n this
is not indivisible. For then the nows would be next to each other. Again, i f
it were at rest i n the whole of the stretch of time CA (for let us grant that i t
is at rest), then i t would be at rest i n A too, w i t h the result that i f A D is
I S
15
There is a misprint ('AC') at this point i n the revision of Hardie and Gaye's
translation of the Physics i n J. Barnes (ed.), The Complete Works of Aristotle: The
Revised Oxford Translation (Princeton, 1984). The misprint is not present in Hardie
and Gaye's original translation in W. D. Ross (ed.), The Works of Aristotle, vol. i i
(Oxford, 1930). Thanks to John Cooper for spotting this.
16
235^32: ev dj 7rpdjTqj ij.6Tafi6fi\r]K6v TO [xeTafiefiXriKos.17
235^33: O.TOIIOV.
Aristotle on Primary Time in Physics 6 iS7
actually has two m e a n i n g s . A c c o r d i n g to the first m e a n i n g , i t refers
18
to the p r i m a r y t i m e i n w h i c h s o m e t h i n g finished c h a n g i n g — i n 19
18
236 7: Xeyerai he TO ev qj irpojTOj i-ieTafiefiXr/Ke
a
St^aj?.
19 236 7~8: T O [lev ev qj Trpo'jTOj eTrereXeodrj rj [LeTofioXrj.
a
30
236 9~10: T O S' ev qj Trpo'jTOj r j p ^ a r o
a
[leTaflaXXeiv.
31
236 I4: ov yap eoriv dpyrj
a
[LeTofioXr)*;.
3 3
Bav^iaoTov (Themist. I n Pkys. 195.8 Schenkl= 15 6A F H S & G ) ; Bav^iaoTa (Simpl.
I n Phys. 986. 6 Diels= 156B F H S & G ) .
33
For another example of a merely apparent criticism on the part of Theophrastus
see B. Morison, 'Did Theophrastus Reject Aristotle's Account of Place?', Phronesis,
55 (2010), 68-103.
i58 Benjamin Morison
t i m e , n a m e l y f r o m t to f , d u r i n g w h i c h x w o u l d be b o t h
z :
this is impossible.
(Step 3) B u t i f t were after f , t h e n , since t w o instants cannot be
z :
consecutive—rather, they m u s t b o u n d a p e r i o d o f t i m e —
there w o u l d be a p e r i o d o f t i m e between t a n d t d u r i n g 1 z
w h i c h x w o u l d be neither i n m o t i o n , n o r at rest, w h i c h is
impossible.
So t is n o t previous to f , n o r i d e n t i c a l w i t h f , n o r after t . T h e r e
z : : 1
3 4
' T h e first instant of change' would presumably correspond to an expression
such as T O TTJS [leTafloXris Trpajrov vvv.
i6o Benjamin Morison
n o t i n v i r t u e o f s o m e t h i n g other t h a n i t b e i n g s u c h - a n d - s u c h . ' 25
3 5
Xeyoj Se TrpojTov o [irj TOJ erepov TL OVTOV etvai TOIOVTOV eoTiv.
Aristotle on Primary Time in Physics 6 161
w h i c h happened i n 2011 b u t w h i c h d i d n o t h a p p e n o n 5 D e c e m b e r
2011.) So, as A r i s t o t l e p u t s i t i n the text j u s t q u o t e d , the change
( m y j o u r n e y to the C i t y ) t o o k place i n some year (2011) i n v i r t u e o f
the fact that i t took place o n some day o f that year (5 D e c e m b e r ) .
N o w , i n A r i s t o t l e ' s t e r m i n o l o g y , 2011 is n o t the p r i m a r y t i m e
o f m y j o u r n e y to the City, since there is a p a r t o f 2011 i n w h i c h
m y j o u r n e y occurred, n a m e l y 5 D e c e m b e r 2 0 1 1 . N o w i n fact, 5
D e c e m b e r 2011 is n o t the p r i m a r y t i m e either, since m y j o u r n e y
d i d n o t occur d u r i n g the whole o f that t i m e , b u t o n l y i n the evening
o f 5 December. E v e n t h e n , we c o u l d be m o r e precise about w h e n
m y j o u r n e y took place w i t h i n that stretch (between 5.42 p . m . a n d
7.16 p . m . , or whatever).
W h a t I m e a n b y b e i n g ' m o r e precise' is the f o l l o w i n g . I specified
the t i m e o f m y j o u r n e y as (first) 2011 (call this t i m e A ) , (then) 5
D e c e m b e r 2011 (call this t i m e B ) , (then) the evening o f the fifth
( t i m e C ) , a n d (finally) the stretch between 5.42 p . m . a n d 7.16 p . m .
o n that day ( t i m e D ) . I n so d o i n g I specify the t i m e o f m y j o u r n e y
m o r e and m o r e precisely, i n this sense: a n y t h i n g w h i c h happens i n
t i m e B happens i n t i m e A b u t n o t vice versa, so B is a m o r e precise
t i m e - s t r e t c h t h a n A . S i m i l a r l y , a n y t h i n g w h i c h happens i n t i m e C
happens i n t i m e B b u t n o t vice versa, so C is a m o r e precise t i m e -
stretch t h a n B . L i k e w i s e , a n y t h i n g w h i c h happens i n t i m e D hap
pens i n t i m e C b u t n o t vice versa. So D is the m o s t precise o u t o f
all the g i v e n time-stretches.
L e t us assume that D is the m o s t precise stretch o f t i m e for the
j o u r n e y . I n that case, i t qualifies as the p r i m a r y t i m e i n w h i c h the
j o u r n e y took place, since I was engaging i n m y change ( j o u r n e y i n g
to the C i t y ) at every substretch o f i t (as A r i s t o t l e puts i t i n the text
above: 'necessarily the t h i n g is c h a n g i n g i n any p a r t o f i t whatso
ever'). M o r e o v e r , there is n o p a r t o f m y j o u r n e y w h i c h lies outside
that stretch o f t i m e either. Hence, that stretch o f t i m e exactly fits
m y j o u r n e y : i t is the m o s t precise specification possible o f w h e n m y
j o u r n e y t o o k place. T h a t stretch o f t i m e D has an i m p o r t a n t p r o
p e r t y : any stretch o f t i m e w h i c h includes D w i l l be a true answer to
the q u e s t i o n ' w h e n d i d the j o u r n e y take place?'. Possible answers
i n c l u d e : w i n t e r 2 0 1 1 ; the second decade o f the t w e n t y - f i r s t cen
t u r y ; the t w e n t y - f i r s t c e n t u r y itself; etc. T h u s , the p r i m a r y stretch
o f t i m e ( D ) i n w h i c h the change took place has e x p l a n a t o r y value;
we can e x p l a i n w h y any true answer to the q u e s t i o n ' w h e n d i d the
162 Benjamin Morison
3 6
A parallel remarked by Ross i n P h y s i c s , i n his note to 6. 6, 236 2o—i (in his
b
T h e n o t i o n , t h e n , o f a p r i m a r y t i m e i n w h i c h some change/
occurrence x happens is thus far f r o m b e i n g s i m p l y a m a t t e r o f the
first moment at w h i c h x happens, or s o m e t h i n g like that. T h e r e is
no e x p l i c i t m e n t i o n o f moments at a l l , n o r is there is any h i n t o f
first m o m e n t s . T h e p r i m a r y t i m e o f an event E (an occurrence or a
change or whatever) is the t i m e A B — e i t h e r a stretch o f t i m e ( A ±
B ) , or an instant ( A = B ) — s u c h that E occurs i n A B , a n d n o p a r t o f
E occurs at any t i m e outside A B , a n d such that there is no stretch
of t i m e C D w h i c h is a p a r t o f A B i n w h i c h E is n o t t a k i n g place.
5. T h e p r i m a r y t i m e i n w h i c h s o m e t h i n g has changed
I n Physics 6. 5, 2 3 5 3 0 - 2 3 6 2 7 , A r i s t o t l e w i l l a t t e m p t to prove t w o
b a
w h a t he is g o i n g to do. B u t w h a t demands e x p l a n a t i o n is h o w A r i s
totle can c l a i m that the single l o c u t i o n , to en hoi protoi metabebleken,
can refer to either the p r i m a r y t i m e i n w h i c h s o m e t h i n g began to
change, or the p r i m a r y t i m e i n w h i c h s o m e t h i n g finished changing.
T h i s is w h a t I w a n t to l i n g e r o n i n this section, before investigat
i n g i n the n e x t section the t w o arguments that A r i s t o t l e gives for
his t w i n claims (that there is no p r i m a r y t i m e at w h i c h i t started to
change, b u t there is a p r i m a r y t i m e at w h i c h i t finished changing).
A r i s t o t l e is clear that to en hoi protoi metabebleken, w h i c h l i t e r a l l y
means 'the p r i m a r y [ t i m e ] i n w h i c h s o m e t h i n g has changed', can be
taken i n t w o q u i t e different ways ( 2 3 6 7 - i o ) :
a
Hence one should absolutely resist the temptation to translate the phrase T O iv
3 0
B. Comrie, Aspect
3 3
(Cambridge Textbooks in Linguistics; Cambridge, 1976),
54. He does acknowledge that there are a few instances where it is not excluded that
Aristotle on Primary Time in Physics 6 167
we specify some time i n which the relevant event or action occurred—we can say ' I
have seen Fred today'—'provided that the time includes the present' (ibid.).
34 I b i d . 54-s.
35
irav TO Kivoxifxevov avdyKTj KEKivfjoQai nporepov.
i68 Benjamin Morison
an e n d p o i n t . W h e n x changes, x changes f r o m h a v i n g F p r e d i c a t e d
of i t to h a v i n g G p r e d i c a t e d o f i t , where ' F ' a n d ' G ' m a y name places
( i n w h i c h case the change i n q u e s t i o n is l o c o m o t i o n ) , or qualities ( i n
w h i c h case the change i n q u e s t i o n is alteration), etc. T o p u t things
s l i g h t l y less c l u m s i l y : w h e n x changes, x changes from b e i n g F and x
changes to b e i n g G . I d r a w a t t e n t i o n to A r i s t o t l e ' s observation be
cause we have to note that there are three different things we m i g h t
say about x, each o f t h e m u s i n g the verb 'to change': 'x changes',
'x changes f r o m b e i n g F ' , a n d 'x changes to b e i n g G ' . T h u s , w h e n
A r i s t o t l e uses the verb f o r m metabebleken, he m i g h t have i n m i n d
any one o f three different things: ( 1 ) 'x has changed' (as i n 'x has
undergone its entire change', or 'x has changed f r o m b e i n g F to be
i n g G ' ) , (2) 'x has changed f r o m b e i n g F ' , and (3) 'x has changed
to b e i n g G ' . These statements have different t r u t h c o n d i t i o n s . I n
the m i d d l e o f the change i n question, for instance, ( 1 ) is false, as is
(3), b u t (2) is true.
T h u s , there are i n fact three different things that A r i s t o t l e c o u l d
mean b y the phrase to en hoi protoi metabebleken. I t c o u l d mean
3 6
The observation is a familiar one i n the three books constituting the Tlepl KIVT)-
3 7
I am grateful to Myles Burnyeat, Christian Wildberg, Jonathan Beere, Jacob
Rosen, and especially Hendrik Lorenz, for discussion of the Greek perfect. I n
Burnyeat's already classic 2008 paper 'Kinesis vs. Energeia: A Much-Read Passage
in (but not of) Aristotle's Metaphysics', Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy, 34
(2008), 219—92, he details two uses of the Greek perfect which are exploited i n
Metaphysics Theta. Jonathan Beere showed me that the ambiguity i n the phrase TO
iv cu 7rpwTu) [xeTafiefiXriKev that Aristotle points to in the Physics cannot be explained
by the same ambiguity i n the Greek perfect that is exploited i n the Metaphysics (see
also J. Beere, Doing and Being: An Interpretation of Aristotle's Metaphysics Theta
(Oxford Aristotle Studies; Oxford, 2009), 221—6).
Aristotle on Primary Time in Physics 6 171
the primary time i n which that which has changed has changed must be
indivisible. I call 'primary' that which is such-and-such not i n virtue of
something other than i t being such-and-such. (1) For let A C be divisible,
and let i t have been divided at B. (2) I f then i t has changed i n A B or again
in B C , A C cannot be the primary time i n which i t has changed. (3) If, on
the other hand, i t was changing i n both (for necessarily i t must either have
changed or be changing i n both of them), then it would be changing i n the
whole too; but our assumption was that i t had changed. (4) The same argu
ment applies too i f i t is changing in one part but has changed i n the other:
for there will be something prior to what is primary. (5) Therefore the time
in which it has changed cannot be divisible.
7. T h e b e g i n n i n g o f the change
3 9
Cf. D. Bostock, 'Aristotle on Continuity i n P h y s i c s V I ' ['Continuity'], i n L .
Judson (ed.), A r i s t o t l e ' s Physics: A C o l l e c t i o n of Essays (Oxford, 1991), 179—212 at
195-6.
174 Benjamin Morison
(i) 2 3 6 16-20 a
Then [ A D ] is not indivisible; for then the nows would be next to each other.
Again, i f it were at rest i n the whole of the stretch of time CA (for let us
grant that i t is at rest), then i t would be at rest i n A too, w i t h the result that
if A D is partless, i t w i l l simultaneously be at rest and have changed; for i t
is at rest at A and has changed at D.
4 0
The manuscripts differ in their readings at 236 i5- Some have [leTefiaXXev;
a
some
have [jLerifiaXev. Ross goes w i t h the imperfect, but I think the aorist is preferable (and
I have translated it here). The aorist is often used to express mgressive aspect: ' T h e
Aorist of verbs which denote a s t a t e or c o n d i t i o n generally expresses the entrance into
t h a t s t a t e o r c o n d i t i o n ' (Goodwin, Syntax, § 19 Note 1). This fits well w i t h what
Aristotle is saying here: there is no primary time i n which the thing gets moving, or
embarks on its change. (For another ingressive aorist i n a similar context see 6. 8,
239 i 1: r)p6[j.rio€v; there, Aristotle shows that there is no primary time i n which some
a
thing embarks on rest, i.e. gets some resting done. For more on this, see sect. 11
below.) The imperfect might also seem appropriate because at the beginning of the
change from being F to being G, when the thing has changed from being F, it is still
changing, and the imperfect [jLerifiaXXev might seem to capture this. But we have the
easy—and paralleled—use of the ingressive aorist available.
4 1
See M . Timpanaro Cardini, P s e u d o - A r i s t o t e l e : De lineis insecabilibus (Testi e
documenti per lo studio dell'antichita, 32; Varese-Milan, 1970).
Aristotle on Primary Time in Physics 6 i7S
shortest o f arguments: 'for t h e n the n o w s w o u l d be n e x t to each
o t h e r ' . T h e reference has to be to A a n d D b e i n g contiguous, because
there is n o other p a i r o f instants u n d e r discussion. So w h a t we have
is a metaphysical a r g u m e n t against the p o s s i b i l i t y o f such i n d i v i s i b l e
stretches, as Ross says i n his note ad loc.: ' T o treat A D as i n d i v i s i b l e
w o u l d be to adopt the v i e w w h i c h regards t i m e as made u p o f v e r y
s h o r t i n d i v i s i b l e u n i t s o f t i m e c o n t i g u o u s to one a n o t h e r . ' T h i s has
42
m i l i a r , possibility, n a m e l y t h a t A D m i g h t be i n d i v i s i b l e because
i t is an instant. T h i s is equivalent to the s u p p o s i t i o n t h a t A a n d
D are i d e n t i c a l . T h i s o p t i o n cannot be r u l e d o u t o n metaphysical
g r o u n d s alone, a n d so receives a m o r e extended a r g u m e n t . A r i s t o t l e
w i l l show t h a t u n d e r this s u p p o s i t i o n , the t h i n g i n q u e s t i o n w i l l s t i l l
be at rest at A , a n d yet w i l l have already m o v e d at D — w h i c h , seeing
t h a t A a n d D are i d e n t i c a l , is impossible.
H e shows this b y t a k i n g a stretch o f t i m e C A , where C is an i n
stant somewhere i n x's i m m e d i a t e l y p r e c e d i n g p e r i o d o f rest. I f i t is
at rest d u r i n g the w h o l e o f C A , t h e n i t w i l l be at rest at A ( 2 3 6 i 7 - a
(ii) 2 3 6 2 0 - 7
a
(1) But i f A D is not partless, i t must be divisible and i t must have changed
in every part of i t whatsoever, for (2) suppose A D is divided, then i f i t has
changed i n neither part, i t w i l l not have changed i n the whole either, and
(3) i f i t is changing i n both, it is changing in the whole too, and (4) i f i t has
changed i n one or the other, the whole will not be the primary time i n which
it has changed. So i t must therefore have changed i n any part whatsoever.
(5) I t is clear then that the primary time i n which the thing has changed
does not exist. For (6) the divisions are endless.
A D is n o t a stretch o f t i m e .
Recall that i n 2 3 6 i 6 - 2 0 A r i s t o t l e showed that A D is n o t an i n
a
8. A n a s s u m p t i o n
M a n y w o u l d p r o d u c e an o b j e c t i o n t o A r i s t o t l e ' s a r g u m e n t s — a n d
for that m a t t e r m y i n t e r p r e t a t i o n o f t h e m — b y p o i n t i n g to A r i s
totle's n o t o r i o u s d o c t r i n e that n o t h i n g is m o v i n g o r at rest i n an
instant, a n d t h e n p o i n t i n g o u t that m y r e c o n s t r u c t i o n o f A r i s t o t l e ' s
arguments makes l i b e r a l use o f statements p r e d i c a t i n g m o t i o n o r
rest o f s o m e t h i n g at an instant. I t is true that A r i s t o t l e does say that
n o t h i n g is m o v i n g i n an i n s t a n t , a n d he extends this c l a i m to b e i n g
43
4 6
'[T]he reference to rest at an instant is more easily taken as adhominem, not as
representing Aristotle's own opinion' (R. Sorabji, Time, Creation and the Continuum
(London, 1983), 415 n. 17; his emphases). Bostock agrees ('Continuity', 193; 210).
I n arguing this, Sorabji is recanting his earlier view (in Aristotle on the Instant of
Change' ['Instant'], Proceedings of the A r i s t o t e l i a n S o c i e t y , suppl. 50 (1976), 69—87),
where he rightly claims that 'although [Aristotle] denies that things can change or
remain i n the same state at an instant, he concedes there are many other things that
can be true of them at an instant' (81), and identifies our passage as an instance of
Aristotle making just such a predication, i n propria persona (84).
Aristotle on Primary Time in Physics 6 181
4 7
ovoe orj TO rjpe^iovv o r e Trpajrov rjpe[j.rjGev eonv.
4 8
Notice that Pellegrin supplies 'moment' w i t h irpajrov.
4 9
Pellegrin complains: 'Bien qu'il ne fasse pas une theorie du repos aussi develop-
pee que sa theorie du changement, Aristote esquisse done cette theorie du repos, et
je ne comprends pas que B. Morison le nie' (ibid.). This section addresses that lack
of comprehension. Sorabji also worries that what Aristotle says i n 6. 8 is i n tension
w i t h 6. s ('Instant', 84).
50
One needs to translate correctly the ingressive aorist r/peixr/oev (see n. 40
above).
i8z Benjamin Morison
is no p r i m a r y t i m e i n w h i c h s o m e t h i n g comes to a stop, 51
i.e. there
is no p r i v i l e g e d p a r t o f the change w h i c h we can single o u t as b e i n g
the last part, solely o n the basis o f the logic o f change.
T h e a r g u m e n t goes like this. T h e p r i m a r y t i m e i n w h i c h some
t h i n g comes to a stop (call i t A B ) is either an instant or a stretch
of time, (i) I t is n o t an instant ( 2 3 9 3 - 6 ) , and ( i i ) i t is n o t a stretch
a
( 2 3 9 6 - i o ) , therefore 'there w i l l n o t be a p r i m a r y t i m e i n w h i c h i t
a
12. T w o p h i l o s o p h i c a l difficulties
I t is t i m e to take stock. T h e f o l l o w i n g p i c t u r e is e m e r g i n g o f A r i s
totle's v i e w o f change a n d rest.
( 1 ) T h e r e is no p r i m a r y t i m e i n w h i c h s o m e t h i n g gets u n d e r w a y
(6. 5, 2 3 6 i 5 - 2 7 ) . T h e r e is, i n other words, no m o s t precise
a
5 3
ojoirep he TO Kivovfxevov OVK eariv ev d> irpajTto Kiveirai, ovrcos ovh* ev d> lararai TO
lorafxevov.
One way of seeing how K i v e i r a i can mean this is to think of the meaning of the
5 4
5 5
ov ydp EOTiv dp%rj [LeTafioXrjS.
5 6
eon i^era^oXrj^ re'Ao?.
5 7
ov ydp EOTiv dp%rj [LeTafioXrjS, ouS' ev qj Trpo'jTOj TOV %povov [leTeflaXev.
i86 Benjamin Morison
5 8
Cf. Sorabji: ' I am not saying that the period of motion has no boundary. I t w i l l
have an instant bounding it on either side' ('Instant', 73).
5 9
A r n o l d Brooks draws my attention to Phys. 6.3, 234 34— 5, where Aristotle ar
a b
Princeton University
192 Benjamin Morison
BIBLIOGRAPHY
MARY KRIZAN
© M a r y Krizan 2013
I would especially like to thank Dominic Bailey, Christopher Dodsworth, David
Ebrey, Brad Inwood, K a t h r i n Koslicki, M i t z i Lee, John Mouracade, Robert Pasnau,
Justin Waldo, and audiences at California State University-Fullerton, Spring H i l l
College, University of Connecticut, and University of Iowa for conversations, criti
cisms, and feedback that have, in various ways, improved this project i n its various
iterations. I am also grateful to the Emerson and Lowe families for their generous
gift of an Emerson—Lowe Dissertation Fellowship, which funded the initial stage of
this research.
1
For the purpose of this paper, I use the term 'element' to refer to Aristotle's
physically simple bodies—earth, air, fire, and water. One should note that this use
of 'element' may not be entirely correct: (1) Aristotle often uses arot^eta when re
ferring to other entities, such as the primary contrarieties; (2) he often refers to the
physically simple bodies as rd KaXovfxeva arot^eta, suggesting that they are not genu
inely elemental; and (3) there is reason to suspect that earth, air, fire, and water are
compound substances, and hence, are not genuine elements. For an excellent dis
cussion of these issues see T. J. Crowley, ' O n the Use of S t o i c h e i o n i n the Sense of
"Element"', Oxford S t u d i e s i n Ancient Philosophy, 29 (2005), 367—94, and id., A r i s
totle's "So-Called Elements'", Phronesis, 53 (2008), 223—42. For the purpose of this
paper, I also use the phrases 'elemental transformation', 'elemental transmutation',
and 'elemental change' interchangeably to refer to the process whereby one simple
body is generated from one or two other simple bodies.
196 Mary Krizan
3
A m o n g contemporary authors, M . L . G i l l , A r i s t o t l e on Substance: The Paradox
of Unity [Paradox] (Princeton, 1989), 67—77, offers the most complete analysis of
elemental transformations; the analyses offered in E. Gannage (trans, and comm.),
Alexander of Aphrodisias: O n Aristotle's On Coming-to-Be and P e r i s h i n g 2. 2—5
[Alexander] (Ithaca, NY, 2005), 58—77, and E. Lewis (trans, and comm.), Alexander
of Aphr o d i s i a s : O n Aristotle's Meteorology 4 [Alexander Meteorology] (Ithaca, NY,
1996), 40—5, are also instructive. The ancient commentators on Aristotle provide
less assistance than one would like: only two ancient commentaries on the text
of On Generation and Corruption survive. O f these, Alexander's is preserved i n
fragments through the commentary of Philoponus and the Book of Morphology, by
the 8th-cent. alchemist Jabir b. Hayyan, though Alexander also summarizes his
account of Aristotle's elemental transformations i n the opening of his commentary
on Meteorology 4 and introduces them i n his general account of hylomorphism
in De anima. Themistius and Simplicius engage w i t h some of the key issues of
On Generation and Corruption in their commentaries on the P h y s i c s and De c a e l o ,
but are silent on the issue of elemental transformation. The medieval commentary
tradition, on the other hand, offers valuable insight into traditional interpretations
of elemental transformations and prime matter. The elemental transformations were
a common topic in Scholastic Questions commentaries; although many of these are
currently available only as manuscripts, a renewed interest in the Latin commentary
tradition of On Generation and Corruption has, i n recent years, yielded several
new critical editions of these works. For an overview of the commentary tradition
and On Generation and Corruption see J. M . M . H . Thijssen, ' T h e Commentary
Tradition on Aristotle's De generatione et corruptione: A n Introductory Survey', i n
J. M . M . H . Thijssen and H . A . G. Braakhuis (eds.), The Commentary Tradition
on A r i s t o t l e ' s De generatione et corruptione: Ancient, Medieval, and E a r l y Modern
(Turnhout, 1999), 9—20.
Elemental Structure in G C 2. 4 197
1. T h e elemental t r a n s f o r m a t i o n s i n GC 2. 4
the four elements to change i n t o any o f the others, and i n the re
m a i n d e r o f GC 2. 4 he describes three types o f change that generate
an element. I refer to these changes as (1) ' p a r a d i g m a t i c cyclical
changes', (2) ' d i f f i c u l t changes', a n d (3) ' n o n - r e c i p r o c a l changes'. 6
3
Philoponus, Joachim, and Williams all place the reference of -nporepov at 331*7
to De caelo 3. 6; see Philop. I n GC 231. 18—20 Vitelli; H . H . Joachim, A r i s t o t l e : O n
Coming-to-Be and Passing-Away [Coming-to-Be] (Oxford, 1922), 220; C. J. F. W i l
liams (trans, and comm.), A r i s t o t l e ' s De generatione et corruptione, Translated with
Notes [De generations] (Oxford, 1982), 161.
4
329 32—330*12. There are two odd features of the discussion: (1) Aristotle re
b
duces all of the tangible qualities to wet and dry, and does not suggest that any re
duce to cold or hot; and (2) heavy and light are left out of the discussion.
5
3 3 ° * 3 ° 7 - Aristotle notes that six combinations are logically possible, but only
—b
7
I n arguing that each type of change explains the relationship between an
element and one of the three that it can change into, my account of elemental
transformations differs from that of other scholars who have tackled this difficult
i 8
9 Mary Krizan
For those that have counterparts [avjnjioXa\ shared with each other, the
change is fast, but for those that do not, the change is slow, because it is
easier for one to change than for many. For example, air will come to be
from fire when one of the opposites changes (for fire was hot and dry, and
air is hot and wet, so that there will be air when dry is overtaken by wet);
and again, water will come to be from air, if hot is overtaken by cold (for
air was hot and wet, and water was cold and wet, so that there will be wa
ter when hot changes). In the same way, there will be earth from water
and fire from earth. For both have a counterpart in common: water is wet
and cold, and earth is cold and dry, so that earth will come to be when
wet is overtaken, and again, since fire is dry and hot, and earth is cold and
dry, if cold is destroyed, then fire will come to be from earth. (GC 2. 4,
3 3 I 2 - 2)
a
3
b
The cause of this, as has been said often, is circular motion: for this alone
is continuous. That is why the others that change into one another on ac
count of their affections and potentialities, such as the simple bodies, are
imitating circular motion: for whenever air comes to be from water and fire
comes to be from air, and again, water comes to be from fire, we say that
generation has come around in a circle because it has reversed back to the
beginning. (GC 2. 10, 33& 34-337 6) b a
are the only possible types of motion for simple bodies. Circular motion is prior to
linear motion because it is 'more simple and complete', as Aristotle acknowledges
in Phys. 8. 9, 265*13—17. I n GC 2. 4 Aristotle is concerned with circular motion; his
account of change here may be contrasted with his discussion of the linear motions
of the elements in P h y s i c s 8. 4 and De caelo 4. 3.
200 Mary Krizan
But, it is possible for water to be generated from fire, and earth from air,
and again, earth from water and fire from air—but it is more difficult, be
cause more things must change. For it is necessary, if fire will come to be
from water, that both cold and wet are destroyed, and again, if air will come
to be from earth, that cold and dry are destroyed. Similarly, if water and
earth will come to be from fire and air, both opposites must change. This
type of generation, then, takes longer. (GC 2. 4, 3 3 i 2 - n ) b
Fire can and does turn into Water, and vice versa, or Air into Earth,
but because those parts are not "consecutive" (in the technical sense
defined above), each such change must go through an intermediate stage,
involving first one and then a second contrariety as the persisting subject;
for this reason it is "more difficult" (33ib6) and "takes longer" ( 3 3 i b i i ) ,
whereas change between the "consecutives" is "easier" and thus "quick"
(33ia25, 24). 14
On the other hand, if a single quality of each one passes away, then the
change is easier, but it is not reciprocal; earth and air will come to be from
fire and water, and fire and water will come to be from air and earth. So,
whenever the cold of water and the dryness of fire pass away, there will
be air (for the heat of fire and the wetness of water remain), but when the
heat of fire and the wetness of water pass away, there will be earth because
what remains is the dryness of fire and the coldness of water. And simi
larly, fire and water will also come to be from air and earth: for when the
heat of air and the dryness of earth pass away, there will be water (since the
moisture of air and the coldness of water remain), but when the moisture
of air and the coldness of earth pass away, there will be fire because what
remains is the heat of air and the dryness of earth, which were fire. (GC
2- 4, 3 3 i i 2 - 2 4 )
b
in each pair is a privation. Commentators have been quite interested i n this claim:
Philoponus reads it as suggesting that one of the two contraries is more like form,
and hence better; Averroes suggests in the Middle Commentary that cold is the priva
tion of heat, and dry is the privation of moist, and Oresme agrees. See Philop. In GC
242. 15—22 Vitelli; Kurland, Averroes, 82—3; and N . Oresme, Quaestiones super De
generatione et corruptione [Super GC] 2. 5, 221. 76—90 Caroti.
18
G i l l seems to arrive at the conclusion that fire and water always produce air, but
for different reasons; see G i l l , Paradox, 73—4.
204 Mary Krizan
It is not possible for the destruction of one quality of each of the elements,
taken in consecutive order, to bring about a change in any of the bodies be
cause what remains in both is either the same or the opposite—and a body
cannot come to be from either option. (GC 2. 4, 33i 26-3o) b
19
The example that comes to mind is the interaction between water and the glow
ing embers of a campfire: when water acts upon the embers, the material that used
to be fire turns to a black, earthy substance, and i n destroying the fire, the water
destroys itself in the process.
30
Oresme, Super GC 2. 9, sketches a relevantly similar view. Oresme suggests
that when air is generated from fire and water, water acts on fire, generating the
form of air in the matter of fire, and in doing so destroys itself. M y view is different
from Oresme's because I find that the relationship should be the reverse—that is,
water is generating the form of earth i n the matter of fire—and because I make the
agent/patient relationship explicit rather than implicit. See Oresme, Super GC 2. 9,
250. 56—64 Caroti.
Elemental Structure in G C 2. 4 205
seems confused, for he suggests that it is possible for heat to destroy dry, contrary to
his own account of change between opposites. Despite the inadequacy of Aristotle's
example, I believe that the logical point still stands.
3 3
As Zeller famously describes prime matter: ' I f we abstract entirely from any
thing which is a product of Becoming—that is to say, i f we think to ourselves a kind
of object which has not as yet become anything, then we shall have pure Matter
without any determination by Form. T h i s w i l l be that which is nothing, but can
become everything—the Subject to which no one of all the thinkable predicates be
longs, but which precisely on that account is equally receptive of them all. I n other
words, it is that which is all i n Possibility and nothing in Actuality: it is purely poten
tial Being, without any kind of actual existence' (E. Zeller, A r i s t o t l e and the E a r l i e r
P e r i p a t e t i c s (London, 1897), 347—8).
206 Mary Krizan
33
T h e traditional interpretation may be traced back to the ancient commenta
tors; it is explicitly found in the commentaries on On Generation and Corruption of
Philoponus and Alexander, as well as Alexander's commentary on De anima. For
discussion of the latter see I . Kupreeva, 'Qualities and Bodies: Alexander against
the Stoics', Oxford S t u d i e s i n Ancient Philosophy, 25 (2003), 297—344, P - 3°8—9- es
A c c o r d i n g to t r a d i t i o n a l i n t e r p r e t a t i o n s o f A r i s t o t l e , w h i c h I refer
to c o l l e c t i v e l y as T I , e v e r y case o f s u b s t a n t i a l change r e q u i r e s three
explanatory components: a substantial f o r m , w h i c h enforms a sub
stance, a p r i v a t i o n , w h i c h indicates the opposite f r o m w h i c h the
substance came to be, and an u n d e r l y i n g m a t e r i a l c o n t i n u a n t or
s u b s t r a t u m t h a t persists t h r o u g h the substantial change. 27
Since
that resists characterization, suggesting that what the tradition calls 'prime matter'
is a purely logical object.
3 6
See e.g. Phys. 4. 1, 2o8 8-9; 4. 8, 2 i 4 i 3 - i 4 ; Decaelo
b b
1. 2, 268 28-9; 3. 8, 3o6 9~
b b
or not the simple bodies are ovvOera is a matter of debate; traditional interpretations
affirm that the simple bodies are composites of matter and form, and thus are not
elements i n the most precise sense of the term, whereas strong revisionary interpre
tations deny that the simple bodies are ovvOera. Aristotle's own account of the rela
tionship between the contraries in an element is not helpful in this matter; he refers
to the compounds as at au^eu^et? (330 3i; 330^34), and the act of their combining
a
as ovvhvdt,eo9ai (330 31). ov'^ev^is has the general meaning of 'being yoked together',
a
and applies to pairs of things. T h e uses i n Aristotle that Bonitz cites as similar to the
use here are found i n the Nicomachean E t h i c s ; at NE 113 i i o , and again at 1 i33 6,
b a
3 8
For a useful overview of the traditional interpretation of elemental change see
Lewis, 'Matter', 126-8.
3 9
Thomas of Sutton was aware of this problem, but i n his commentary on GC 2. 4
he indicates that the counterpart must be corrupted i n a substantial change, because
otherwise an accident (e.g. heat) would be prior to a substantial form (e.g. the form
of air). See Thomas of Sutton, In GC 139. 24—38 Kelley. Buridan was also aware of
the problem, and in his Questions commentary offers a theory of resistance that is
supposed to solve the problem, suggesting that there is more resistance involved i n
a non-reciprocal change than in a paradigmatic cyclical change. See Buridan, Super
GC 230. 6—232. 5 Streijger—Bakker—Thijssen. G i l l develops a different version of
the problem, focusing on the fact that prime matter alone is inadequate to explain
why changes between elements sharing a counterpart are faster than non-reciprocal
changes; see G i l l , Paradox, 74. Although the ancient commentators did not worry
about this particular problem, Alexander was concerned w i t h a related issue—why
non-reciprocal changes take longer than paradigmatic cyclical changes. See Gan-
nage, Alexander, § 61, 109—10.
Elemental Structure in G C 2. 4 209
istence i n an elemental change, t h e n there is n o substantive differ
ence between p a r a d i g m a t i c cyclical changes a n d difficult changes,
a n d hence, n o e x p l a n a t i o n for w h y difficult changes take longer t h a n
p a r a d i g m a t i c cyclical changes. I n b o t h cases, one substantial form
is destroyed a n d a n e w one comes i n t o existence; or, alternatively,
i n b o t h cases t w o contraries are d e s t r o y e d . 30
3 0
T h i s second way of understanding the problem can result in further worries
for the view; Thomas of Sutton, In GC 2. 4, 141. 34—142. 2 Kelley, worried that it
would be difficult to explain the numerical identity of the same contrary in different
elements, e.g. the heat i n fire and i n air.
3 1
T h i s line of reasoning may lead one to suspect that each of the simple bodies
actually has two substantial forms, analogous to an Ockhamist interpretation of the
Aristotelian soul.
2IO Mary Krizan
I n d e p e n d e n t l y o f one another, F u r t h a n d G i l l b o t h a r r i v e d at a n o n -
t r a d i t i o n a l account o f the elemental transformations that is weaker
t h a n S R I . T h i s account denies A r i s t o t l e ' s c o m m i t m e n t to p r i m e
matter, b u t affirms the c l a i m that there is a s u b s t r a t u m that persists
t h r o u g h changes between the elements. I f there is n o p r i m e matter,
t h e n w h a t survives a change f r o m one element i n t o another? T h e
answer is that i t is one o f the contraries: i n particular, i t is the c o n
t r a r y that is shared, as a c o u n t e r p a r t , between the elements i n v o l v e d
i n the change.
T h e weak r e v i s i o n a r y i n t e r p r e t a t i o n ( W R I ) is i n i t i a l l y m o r e p l a u
sible t h a n b o t h T I and S R I , i n so far as i t provides a better ac
c o u n t o f the elemental transformations i n GC 2. 4. F i r s t , i t provides
an adequate explanation o f p a r a d i g m a t i c cyclical changes. I n these
3 3
The problem for unity that I introduce here is unrelated to the so-called prob
lem of 'vertical unity' sometimes raised against traditional interpretations of sub
stantial change. W h i l e I find that the problem of vertical unity does arise here, it
is not the most compelling objection to T I . I t does, however, present a compelling
objection to the weaker revisionary interpretation, as discussed below in sect. 2.3.
3 4
One should notice that this problem of unity for simple bodies is similar to a
problem for uniform composite substances; this 'problem of mixture' arises in GC
1. 10 and 2. 7. For an overview of the problem of mixture see J. M . Cooper, ' T w o
Notes on Aristotle on M i x t u r e ' , i n id., Knowledge, Nature, and the Good (Princeton,
2004), 148-73-
21 2 Mary Krizan
35
This is an improvement over T I and S R I : although a defender of those posi
tions might try to explain the difference between paradigmatic cyclical and difficult
changes by appealing to the two-stage process, it is not required by either theory i n
the same way that it is required by W R I .
3 6
Unfortunately, neither F u r t h nor G i l l gives a compelling account of how W R I
might explain non-reciprocal changes. F u r t h is silent on the issue, and Gill's ac
count seems confused—she suggests that air and earth w i l l generally result i n water,
although Aristotle certainly thinks that the combination of air and earth could pro
duce fire as well.
3 7
I say 'nearly consistent', since I have left the applicability of W R I to non-
reciprocal changes as an open question. I t is unclear to me that W R I can explain
non-reciprocal changes: W R I is most readily committed to explaining changes such
as the transformation from fire to earth as a paradigmatic cyclical change, w i t h dry
as the substratum, making an explanation of non-reciprocal changes redundant.
3 8
Lewis, 'Matter', 129 n. 12, introduces a similar objection, suggesting that F u r t h
and G i l l commit Aristotle to a bundle theory. A related problem is that this result
might subject Aristotle to the objection he raises against Empedocles—first in GC
2. 1, and later i n GC 1. 10 and 2. 7. T h e first version of the objection suggests that
Empedocles is a kind of mereological essentialist—which, on its own, does not tell
against W R I , since elements do seem to have their contraries essentially. The second
version of the objection does tell against W R I : i f one holds an Empedoclean view of
Elemental Structure in G C 2. 4 213
3. A n e w m o d e l o f elemental s t r u c t u r e
Nevertheless, being four, each is one simpliciter [O.TT\6JS]: earth is dry more
than cold, water is cold more than wet, air is wet more than hot, and fire is
hot more than dry. (GC 2. 3, 331*3-6)
From these things, it is clear that the bodies are composed of heat and cold,
and these agents operate by thickening and solidifying. Because these fa
shion bodies, heat is in all of them, but cold is in some in so far as heat is
3 9
Commentators have been perplexed by this passage because Aristotle says at
Meteor. 4, 382^—4, that water is most representative of the moist. Philoponus and
Alexander attempt to resolve this difficulty by appealing to the definition of mois
ture: moisture is that which is less easily bounded, and air is less easily bounded than
water; so, air is most representative of the moist. See Philop. In GC 230. 27—231. 3
Vitelli, and Alexander i n Gannage, Alexander, § 42, 103—4. Joachim, on the other
hand, attempts to resolve the difficulty by suggesting that Aristotle is comparing the
qualities w i t h i n a single element w i t h one another: so by saying that water is primar
ily cold, he means that it is denned by cold more than by wet, and is not making a
further comparison between water and the other elements; see Joachim, Coming-to-
Be, 219. Oresme supports Aristotle's distribution of the four qualities in GC 2. 3 by
an appeal to nobility and location: he suggests, i n agreement w i t h Averroes in the
Middle Commentary, that cold is a privation of hot and dry is a privation of moist.
Since a privation is less noble than that which it is a privation of, and nobler elements
are closer i n location to the superlunary realm, because it is more noble than the sub
lunary realm, it should follow that air, which is located above water, is defined by
wet rather than cold. See Oresme, Super GC 2. 5, 221. 76—90 Caroti.
Elemental Structure in G C 2. 4 215
absent. Thus, these are present because they are active, and the wet and
dry because they are passive, and thus all of them are common to mixed
bodies. (Meteor. 4. 8, 384 24-3o) ° b 4
4 1
M y development of this objection is influenced by a very brief remark i n C. V.
Mirus, ' T h e Homogeneous Bodies i n Meteorology IV. 12', Ancient Philosophy, 26
(2006), 45—64. He notes (p. 58) that moist and dry are the matter for the homo
geneous stuffs in Meteorology 4. Mirus, however, considers hot and cold as efficient
causes, and does not indicate a commitment to substantial forms for the homoeo
mers.
4 3
A similar explanation is found i n Gannage, Alexander, 74—5. I take it that the
function of a primary contrary as active or passive depends upon its role in explana
tion: in GC 2. 2—5, hot—cold and wet—dry may be both active and passive; in Mete
orology 4, hot—cold are active and wet—dry are passive; and, as suggested by GA 2. 1,
734 3i—6, hot and cold may be passive when they form the material of an actual,
b
living organism.
4 3
Philosophers i n the M i d d l e Ages were, none the less, quite concerned about
the abilities of the primary contraries to be mutually active and passive, and it was
a common topic i n the Questions commentaries. For example, Buridan, Super GC
21 6 Mary Krizan
2. 2, 197. 24—198. 3 Streijger—Bakker—Thijssen, suggests that hot and cold are more
active and wet and dry are less active, and thus wet and dry are more passive.
4 4
I retain the term 'prime matter' here, which may invoke the question: what is
the difference between the 'matter' of column 3 and 'prime matter'? I n a sense, the
elements, contraries, and prime matter are all possible referents of the term 'matter';
this issue is addressed i n sect. 3.4 below.
4 5
On this model, prime matter is not the material continuant i n more organized
types of substantial and quasi-substantial change; for example, bronze—and not
prime matter—is the material continuant when a bronze statue is formed from a
lump of bronze, and various homoeomers w i t h particular degrees of temperature
and humidity qualities—not prime matter—are the material continuants in a sub
stantial change from a living animal into a corpse. Hence, the proposed model is not
a Thomistic account, and it is not clear that it could be reconciled w i t h Thomistic
theories of prime matter.
Elemental Structure in G C 2. 4 217
BIBLIOGRAPHY
DEVIN HENRY
© D e v i n Henry 2013
Versions of this paper were presented to the Institute for the History and Philosophy
of Science and Technology and Collaborative Program in Ancient and Medieval
Philosophy at the University of Toronto (December 2010), as part of a 'Symposium
on Teleological T h i n k i n g i n Scientific Explanations' w i t h Jeff M c D o n o u g h and
Jim Lennox, American Philosophical Association Eastern Division Meeting, Bos
ton (December 2010), as well as at the West Coast Plato Workshop in Portland (May
2011), 'Teleological and Necessitarian Explanation i n the Ancient Life Sciences',
University of Patras, Greece (June 2011), and 'Causation, Explanation, and Value i n
Plato', Harvard University (December 2011). I have also benefited from comments
by Jim Lennox, Mariska Leunissen, Joe Karbowski, Byron Stoyles, Monte John
son, and various audience members at each venue. Finally, I am especially grateful
to Brad Inwood for his detailed comments and suggestions. The paper is substan
tially better for them.
1
I n spite of the importance of this principle i n Aristotle's natural science, there
has been surprisingly little scholarship devoted to it. The seminal work on the sub
ject is J. G. Lennox, 'Nature Does N o t h i n g i n Vain', i n H . - C . Gunther and A .
Rengakos (eds.), Beitrdge zur antiken Philosophic: F e s t s c h r i f t f i l f Wolfgang Kullmann
(Stuttgart, 1997), 199—214; repr. in J. G. Lennox, A r i s t o t l e ' s Philosophy of Biology
[Philosophy of Biology] (Cambridge, 2001), 205—23 (all references herein are to the
reprint). T o my knowledge, the only other major work on this principle is P. Huby,
'What D i d Aristotle Mean by "Nature does N o t h i n g i n Vain"?' ['Nothing in Vain'],
in I . Mahalingam and B. Carr (eds.), L o g i c a l Foundations (Hong Kong, 1991), 158—
66, and M . Leunissen, Explanation and Teleology i n A r i s t o t l e ' s Science of Nature {Ex
planation and Teleology] (Cambridge, 2010), s.vv 'nature: does nothing i n vain' and
'nature: does what is best, given the possibilities'. See also M . R. Johnson, A r i s t o t l e
on Teleology [ T e l e o l o g y ] (Oxford, 2005), s.v. 'nature: nothing i n vain', and A . Gott-
226 Devin Henry
i . Platonic o r i g i n s
was better to be so. If he said it was in the middle of the universe, he would
3
D. Sedley, Creationism audits Critics in A n t i q u i t y [Creationism] (Berkeley, 2007),
109—12.
4
For other interpretations of the Timaeus' account of teleology see: S. K . Strange,
228 Devin Henry
5
The main disagreements surrounding the Timaeus' creation story are the sepa-
rateness of the Demiurge (Johansen, Natural Philosophy, ch. 4; Broadie, Nature and
D i v i n i t y , ch. 1) and what Broadie calls the 'proto-historical inauguration' of the cos
mos {Nature and D i v i n i t y , 243).
6
As is well known, the Timaeus itself is full of remarks describing the account as
etVaj?. Some take this to mean that the entire creationist story is only metaphorical.
See e.g. F. M . Cornford, P l a t o ' s Cosmology (London, 1937), 31—2. But etVaj? need
not be read in that way. Indeed, as Johansen notes {Natural Philosophy, 50), there are
several passages i n the Timaeus where the claims being made are described as 'true'.
On my reading, Timaeus' remarks are meant to suggest that we should not expect
an enquiry into the world of becoming to yield stable, precise knowledge; our grasp
on the subject-matter reaches no higher than belief {irions) {Tim. 27 D 5—29 D 3; cf.
Rep. 6, 509 A 6—513 E 3). (See P h i l e b . 58 B 9—59 D 8. Compare Aristotle's remarks i n
the Nicomachean E t h i c s about the level of precision we should expect from an en
quiry whose subject-matter is imprecise and holds only for the most part.) On this
reading etVaj? modifies how closely our accounts approximate certain truth (they are
only 'likely'), not whether those accounts should be taken literally or metaphorically
(Johansen, Natural Philosophy, 51—2).
Optimality Reasoning in Aristotle's Natural Teleology 229
2. N a t u r e does n o t h i n g i n v a i n
i n c l u d i n g a p a i n t e r (GA 7 4 3 2 0 - 5 ) , a s c u l p t o r (GA 7 3 o 2 4 - 3 3 ) ,
b b
9
Leunissen, Explanation and Teleology, 130. H u b y , ' N o t h i n g in Vain'.
1 0
11
Lennox, Philosophy of Biology, 184; Johnson, 80—1; L . Judson, 'Aris
Teleology,
totelian Teleology', Oxford S t u d i e s i n Ancient Philosophy, 29 (2005), 341—66 at 361;
and Leunissen, Explanation and Teleology, 17—18, 61—2, 126.
Optimality Reasoning in Aristotle's Natural Teleology 231
1 3
P h y s i c s 2. 8 has become the dominant focus of scholarship on Aristotle's natural
teleology for the past several decades. The primary battleground for the different
sides of the debate has been the so-called rainfall argument at I98 i7—199*8. For a b
survey of the major positions w i t h m this debate see R. W. Sharpies, 'The Purpose
of the Natural World: Aristotle's Followers and Interpreters', i n J. Rocca, Teleology
i n the Ancient World (Cambridge, 2013, forthcoming). I w i l l not enter the fray here.
Instead I shall limit myself to the role of optimality reasoning i n the case of living
things whose adaptations are incontrovertibly teleological i n Aristotle's view. Most
scholars agree that Aristotle's teleology does not depend on conscious intentionality
in this context.
13
See also Lennox, Philosophy of Biology, 184; Leunissen, Explanation and Te
leology, 119 (though see 123); and Gotthelf, F i r s t P r i n c i p l e s , 171. For the claim that
'the formal nature' of a natural substance is the primary moving cause of its genera
tion see Metaph. Z 7, 1032*20-5 (cf. GA 4. 4, 7 7 o i 5 - i 7 ) . A t GA
b
2. 4, 7 4 o 2 5 - 3 4 ,
b
Aristotle identifies the productive nature that constructs the parts of a living thing
w i t h the active power {TTOIOVOO, bvva[jLi<;) of its nutritive soul.
232 Devin Henry
Relative to seizing prey and holding onto them, the more useful movement
for striking a blow is the one that has the greatest force. And a blow from
above is always more forceful than one from below. And to an animal that
has no hands or proper feet and which has to use its mouth for seizing food
as well as for chewing it, the power to seize it is more necessary. Therefore
it is more useful for the crocodile to be able to move its upper jaw than its
lower one. (PA 4. 11,69 i 9 ~ i 5) b
The cause [aitia] of why snakes are footless is both that nature does noth
ing in vain but in every case acts with a view to what is best for each thing
from among the possibilities while maintaining the distinctive being and
essence of the thing itself, and, as we have said, because no blooded ani
mal can move by means of more than four points. It is clear from this that
of all blooded animals whose length is out of proportion with the rest of
their bodily constitution, such as snakes, none of them can be footed; for
they cannot have more than four feet. If they had, they would be bloodless.
Whereas, if they had two or four feet, they would be practically incapable
of any movement at all, so slow and useless would their movement be of
necessity. (IA 8, 708^-20; cf. PA 4. 13, 695 i7~26) b
Optimality Reasoning in Aristotle's Natural Teleology 233
14
I discuss the role of constraints below. While this suggestion may strike readers
of the Metaphysics as questionable, in the biological works Aristotle often includes
the parts of animals as well as their physical features i n the o v o i a of a thing (e.g. P A
3. 6, 6 6 9 i 2 : lungs; 4. 5, 678*33-4, and 4. 13, 69S i7-2S: being blooded; 4. 6, 682*35-
b b
b
32: being divided into sections; 4. 9, 685 i2—16: length and slimness). See Gotthelf,
b
1 7
The second meaning of maten listed i n LSJ is 'at random, without reason'. See
also Johnson, Teleology, 80.
1 8
We can put the point in less metaphorical terms by speaking of the development
of the legs as occurring i n vain. I n most animals that have legs the developmental
process that results i n those parts naturally occurs for the sake of locomotion. I f this
same developmental process were to occur i n snakes, it would be ' i n vain' i n so far
as it would fail to achieve its natural end.
Optimality Reasoning in Aristotle's Natural Teleology 235
Hence it is clear that constitutions are the subject of a single science, which
has to consider what the best constitution is and what its character must be
in order to meet our aspirations (when nothing external prevents it from
being implemented), and what sort of constitution is suited to which parti
cular city. For the best constitution is often not attainable, so that the good
legislator and true statesman must consider what is the most excellent in the
unqualified sense \rr\v Kpariar-qv a-nXajs] and what is best given the under
lying conditions \TTJV IK TOW vrroKeiiievcov apiar-rjv]. (Pol. 4. 1, i 2 8 8 2 i - 6 )
b
1 9
A . Gotthelf, ' T h e Place of the Good i n Aristotle's Teleology', in J. J. Cleary
and D. C. Shartin (eds.), Proceedings of the Boston Area Colloquium i n Ancient Phi
losophy, 4 (1988), 113—39.
236 Devin Henry
of c o m p e t i n g f u n c t i o n a l demands is a t h i r d source o f b i o l o g i c a l c o n
straint. F o r example, A r i s t o t l e treats the elephant's t r u n k {PA 2. 16)
a n d the fact t h a t fish are so p r o l i f i c {GA 3. 4, 7 s s i i - i ) as trade-
a b
3 3
Sedley, Creationism, 121—2, acknowledges this example but denies that it has
anything to do w i t h constraints imposed by matter. I do not find his explanation of
this passage convincing.
3 4
See also P A 2. 16, 6 s 9 6 - i 3 , and 4. 13, 6 9 S i 7 - 2 6 .
b b
238 Devin Henry
A t h i r d k i n d o f c o n s t r a i n t associated w i t h a t h i n g ' s m a t e r i a l
nature are w h a t we m i g h t call architectural constraints. H e r e the
21
3 6
The question of how Aristotle thinks we go about determining which features
of a thing are basic and thus do the constraining is beyond the scope of this paper. I t
is bound up w i t h difficult questions about causal priority, essences, and the method
for establishing first principles.
3 7
I borrow this phrase from S. J. G o u l d and R. C. Lewontin, 'The Spandrels
of San Marco and the Panglossian Paradigm: A Critique of the Adaptationist Pro
gramme', Proceedings of the Royal S o c i e t y of London, 205 (1979), 581—98.
240 Devin Henry
3 8
As mentioned, there is a question here about the method by which Aristotle
goes about determining the causal priority among features, i n this case why he treats
the physical dimensions of the skate as the basic feature of its architecture that does
the constraining. I shall leave that question to one side.
3 9
The contrast can be made even more explicit by considering P A 4. 9, 685 i3— b
17. There Aristotle notes that, while most octopuses have two rows of suckers, the
kind called eXeSwvr/ has only a single row: ' T h i s is because of the length and thinness
of its (material) nature; for it is necessary [sc. given its physical dimensions] that the
narrow tentacle have a single row of suckers. I t is not, then, because it is best that
it has this feature, but because it is necessary owing to the distinctive account of its
being [ S i a TOV "biov Xoyov TTJS ouat'a?].' The constraining feature here is the narrow
ness of the arm. Although this feature happens to be in 'the distinctive account of its
Optimality Reasoning in Aristotle's Natural Teleology 241
3 4
The existence of females is an example of something that is both conditionally
necessary for reproduction and the best way of ensuring the persistence of species
from among the available alternatives. See C. W i t t , 'Aristotle on Deformed K i n d s ' ,
Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy, 43 (2012), 83—106.
244 Devin Henry
The egg cannot be continuous, since i t does not occur i n that way i n any
of the other hard-shelled animals; i t is always on one side of the disk only.
3 5
This reading is defended by Lennox, Philosophy of Biology, e.g. 207, 214, and
Leunissen, Explanation and Teleology, e.g. 132—3. Although Leunissen explicitly en
dorses Lennox's reading, her interpretation turns out to be much less restrictive. For
she allows for a notion of 'design space' (61) that includes more than what is actually
realized in the world. O n her reading, the range of possibilities also includes 'hypo
thetical' designs (126) that are known by means of 'thought experiments' (62). T h i s
is compatible w i t h the interpretation I defend below.
3 6
Lennox, Philosophy of Biology, 214.
Optimality Reasoning in Aristotle's Natural Teleology 245
Accordingly, since this part is common to all of them while the spherical
body is peculiar to the sea urchin, i t is not possible for the eggs to be even
in number. I f they were, they would have to be arranged i n opposition be
cause both sides would have to be symmetrical, and then there would be
eggs on both sides of the circumference. But this arrangement is not found
in any other hard-shelled animal. (68o i4-2i) b
Nature also acted correctly i n making the structure of the horns on the
head, rather than acting like Aesop's Momus, who blames the bull because
it does not have its horns on its shoulders, from where i t could produce
the strongest blows, but on the weakest part, its head. Momus made these
accusations through a lack of sharp insight. For just as horns, i f they had
been placed anywhere else on the body, would provide weight while not
being useful and even be a hindrance to many of its functions, so too would
they be useless i f placed on the shoulders. Indeed, one should target not
3 7
Lennox dismisses this counter-example on the grounds that it is a criticism of
a fable writer, not a natural philosopher, and so cannot be taken seriously (J. G.
Lennox, 'Teleology in Scientific Explanation: Commentary on Henry and M c -
Donough', presented at the annual meeting for the American Philosophical Asso
ciation (Boston, 2010)). However, at Phys. 2. 2, I94 3i—4, Aristotle likewise refers
a
to the views of a poet as a way to make a serious philosophical point (see also Phys.
2. 8, I 9 8 i 8 ) . Moreover, Phil Horky suggests that it would not have been unusual
b
for Aristotle to have taken Aesop's views seriously (personal communication). They
would certainly have been considered a legitimate source of reputable opinions—
that is, as part of the endoxa. Whether or not Aristotle takes Aesop's view as a serious
challenge here, it is clear that his explanation for why bulls have horns on their heads
is meant to be taken seriously. A n d that is sufficient for my point.
246 Devin Henry
only from where the strongest blows would come but also from where they
would be further forward. So, since bulls do not have hands and it is i m
possible for horns to be on the feet, and further i f they were on the knees
they would prevent them from bending, they must have horns just as they
in fact do—on the head. A n d at the same time, the body's other movements
are also naturally most unimpeded. (PA 3. 2 , 6 6 3 3 4 - i 2 ) a b
is not the issue here. What is at issue is the nature of our grasp on the conclusion
of the argument, which concerns the range of what is possible. Frede characterizes
what is known by deduction from first principles as 'apriori' knowledge ( M . Frede,
Aristotle's Rationalism', i n M . Frede and G. Striker (eds.), Rationality in Greek
Thought (Oxford, 1996), 157—74 5&)- While I agree w i t h this characterization, I
a t I
4 0
Even i f Plato did think that our knowledge of material constraints depended
in some sense on experience, we could still agree w i t h Sedley that i n the Timaeus
optimality reasoning is seen as an attempt to reconstruct the pattern of reasoning
that went into the world's design by the creative Nous. I t is just not a purely a priori
Optimality Reasoning in Aristotle's Natural Teleology 249
5. T h e role o f o p t i m i z a t i o n i n n a t u r a l science
exercise that proceeds entirely independently of experience. While this would force
us to give up the idea that the Timaeus is an attempt at 'intellectualizing' physics (as
Sedley claims), this does not affect my overall thesis about Aristotle's central revi
sions to the Platonic conception of optimality (see below, sect. 6).
4 1
Lennox, Philosophy of Biology, 211—15.
4 3
For problems w i t h the use of 'premiss' here see Leunissen, Explanation and
Teleology, 122 n. 25. Although I am sympathetic to Leunissen's claim that the opti
mality principle does not have the right structure to function as a genuine premiss
in an Aristotelian syllogism, the reading I defend below does not turn on whether or
not explanations that feature the optimality principle meet the formal requirements
for proper demonstrations. I return to this question below.
4 3
Leunissen, Explanation and Teleology, 125—7, discusses the teleological p r i n
ciple i n GA 1. 4 as a paradigm example.
4 4
Leunissen, Explanation and Teleology, 121; see also § 4.2, esp. 129—35. By call
ing teleological principles 'heuristic' devices Leunissen is not reviving the so-called
Kantian reading of Aristotle's teleology (e.g. W. Wieland, ' T h e Problem of Teleo
logy', i n J. Barnes, M . Schofield, and R. Sorabji (eds.), Articles on Aristotle, i . Sci-
2SO Devin Henry
ence (London, 1975), 141—60). On that reading, Aristotle thinks it is useful to look at
nature 'as i f it was governed by final causes, since adopting the teleological perspec
tive helps to identify the real (i.e. material-efficient) causes of things. Since Aristotle
thinks final causes have no ontological significance (on the Kantian reading), na
tural science can dispense w i t h the crutch of teleology once those true causes have
been found. Leunissen denies that this is Aristotle's view (e.g. 112). On her reading,
Aristotle sees natural science as a search for the ultimate causes of natural pheno
mena, which include final causes. Those final causes have real ontological force and
constitute an ineliminable feature of Aristotle's world. L i v i n g things really are teleo-
logically organized systems whose development and functioning are controlled by
the goal-directed actions of their formal natures. I t is only the teleological principles,
such as 'nature does nothing i n vain', that Leunissen thinks play a heuristic role i n
Aristotle's natural science. For a thorough critique of the Kantian reading of A r i s
totle see Johnson, Teleology, 182—7.
Optimality Reasoning in Aristotle's Natural Teleology 251
4 5
Leunissen, Explanation and Teleology, 119, agrees with this much: ' I take it that
the different kinds of actions ascribed to these formal natures reflect the operations
of different kinds of causality that typically obtain in the production of animals and
their parts. Teleological principles are thus no mere metaphors; they all carry onto-
logical force.'
4 6
Of these two examples, Leunissen discusses only the first (Explanation and Te
leology, 131—2). See also GA 2. 6, 744^4— i, and the examples discussed in Lennox,
b
Thus i t is clear from what has been said, i n accordance w i t h the observed
facts, that both the origin of the sensory part of the soul and those con
nected w i t h growth and nutrition are located i n this and in the middle of
the three parts of the body. T h i s is also i n accordance w i t h reason because
we see that i n every case nature does that which is best [TO KO.\\IOTOV] from
among the possibilities: the two parts of the body (that which prepares the
ultimate nutriment and that which receives it) would each accomplish its
proper function most i f each origin was i n the middle of the substance; for
then the soul w i l l be close to both parts, and the central position of such a
capacity will be i n a position of control. (De iuv. 4, 6 9 2 3 - i ) 4
a b
4 9
Likewise in the case of snakes, Empedocles might say that snakes lose their legs
owing to some accident during development (compare PA i . i , 640*19—24). The fact
that they happen to move better without them is merely a fortuitous outcome and
not part of the reason why snakes lack legs.
50
Compare the last sentence of I A 2, 7o4 i2—18: 'Nature does nothing in vain but
b
always what is best for the substance from among the possibilities concerning each
kind of animal; for this reason, if it is better this way, then it is that way and being in
that state is in accordance with nature.'
254 Devin Henry
51
Leunissen, Explanation and Teleology, 122.
53
For doubts that explanations in biology could be proper demonstrations see J.
Barnes, 'Aristotle's Theory of Demonstration', Phronesis, 14 (1969), 123—52, and
G. E. R. Lloyd, Aristotelian Explorations (Cambridge, 1996), ch. 1. For replies see
Lennox, Philosophy of Biology, 1—6, and Gotthelf, First Principles, ch. 7. M y reading
is meant to be neutral on this issue. Lennox, Philosophy of Biology, 6.
5 3
54
Leunissen allows that teleological principles might be 'part of the partial or in
formal explanation of some phenomenon' and thus part of 'the larger explanatory
account' {Explanation and Teleology, 122). But she does not say what that entails.
If all she means is that technically the formalized demonstration will not feature the
optimality principle, then that is less interesting. Explanations of natural pheno
mena are supposed to give us knowledge of their causes. And the fact that nature
Optimality Reasoning in Aristotle's Natural Teleology 255
6. T w o conceptions o f o p t i m a l i t y
does nothing in vain but always what is best for the substance is among the causes of
certain natural phenomena and so must be cited in a complete explanatory account
of them. I f Lennox is right about the loss of explanatory content i n converting such
explanations into proper demonstrative form, then the formal demonstration that
drops the optimality principle w i l l actually turn out to be less explanatory than the
informal explanation that includes it. For example, the demonstration of the fact
that snakes have no legs would contain less causal information (and therefore be less
explanatory) than the informal explanation we get i n IA 7 that includes as a cause
(atrt'a) of that phenomenon the fact that the formal natures of snakes do nothing i n
vain but always what is best for the substance from among the possibilities. I do not
see how this can be reconciled w i t h Leunissen's claim that teleological principles
serve a purely heuristic role in Aristotle's natural science.
25 6 Devin Henry
We must consider also i n which way the nature of the whole [rj rov oXov <j>v-
criy] contains the good and the best—whether as something separated and
this order and arrangement (the cosmic good) as the e n d for the
sake o f w h i c h its parts come to be and exist. Rather, the o r d e r l y
arrangement o f the w h o l e cosmos is itself a consequence of, a n d
5 6
See Sedley, Creationism, 198—200.
5 7
See D. Henry, 'Organismal Natures', i n J. Mouracade (ed.), Aristotle on Life
(Apeiron, special issue, 41.3; 2008), 47—74 at 67—70. I n the Politics Aristotle has no
trouble seeing the polis as a natural whole that is ontologically prior to the citizens
that are its parts (Pol. 1. 2, 1253 19—30; cf. Metaph. Z 16). I f this is right, then it may
a
not be much of a stretch to imagine Aristotle treating the cosmos itself as complex
individual endowed w i t h its own cosmic nature.
5 8
M y reading depends on recognizing that Aristotle uses 'nature' i n many ways.
The two main candidates here would be: (1) nature as an inner principle of change
and stasis in that to which it belongs primarily, in virtue of itself, and not incident
ally (Phys. 2. 1, i 9 2 2 i - 2 ; cf. Metaph. Z 7 , 1032*20-5; GA 74o 25-34; 7 7 o i 5 - i 7 ) ;
b b b
and (2) nature as 'the form and essence of a thing, which constitutes the end of the
process of its generation' (Metaph. A 4, i o i 5 i o — 1 1 ; cf. GC 335 4—7). See also PA
a b
1.1, 64i 22—33. When Aristotle refers to 'the nature of the whole' i n the Metaphy
a
sics A passage, he is almost certainly using 'nature' i n a way that is akin to (2), albeit
without the implication that the universe itself came to be.
5 9
Leunissen, Explanation and Teleology, 46—7.
258 Devin Henry
W h a t e v e r we t h i n k o f Sedley's i n t e r a c t i o n i s t reading o f A r i s t o
telian teleology, i t remains that A r i s t o t l e ' s use o f o p t i m i z a t i o n i n
n a t u r a l science does n o t i n any w a y depend o n the n o t i o n o f a cos
m i c good. A r i s t o t l e tells us that nature does w h a t is best for each
p a r t i c u l a r k i n d o f o r g a n i s m (hekaston genos zoou). A n d whenever he
invokes this p r i n c i p l e to e x p l a i n the parts o f l i v i n g things, ' w h a t is
6 0
See Sedley, 'Anthropocentric', 180, and Aristotelian and Platonic', 24.
6 1
Contrast the ecologically rich perspective in Darwin's Origin ofSpecies.
6 3
Sedley, Anthropocentric', 195—6, and Aristotelian and Platonic', 24—5.
Optimality Reasoning in Aristotle's Natural Teleology 259
6 3
Moreover, I have argued that Aristotle limits the optimality principle to the
goal-directed activities of an organism's formal nature. A n d since not all features
of a living thing are due to its formal nature, not every feature of the organic body
w i l l have been optimized for the performance of some function (see n. 28). Thus,
Aristotle not only restricts the optimality principle to living things, he restricts it to
certain features of living things.
6 4
On the separateness of the Demiurge from the physical cosmos see Johansen,
Natural Philosophy, 79—83, and Broadie, Nature and Divinity, ch. 1.
6 5
Johansen, Natural Philosophy, 76—8, identifies the Demiurge of Plato's Timaeus
w i t h craftsmanship {techne) itself rather than a craftsman endowed w i t h intelligence
and forethought. O n this reading, the gap between Plato and Aristotle becomes nar
rower than suggested here. On Johansen's reading, the difference between their res
pective optimizing agents would lie simply i n the external/internal distinction.
6 6
For an alternative account see Leunissen and Gotthelf, 'GA V , 344—7, and
Leunissen, 'Crafting Natures: Aristotle on Animal Design', i n G. Dicker (ed.), An
nual Proceedings of the Center for Philosophic Exchange ( S U N Y Brockport, 2012),
28—51. T h e following takes its lead from the account of Aristotelian natures de
fended by Alexander of Aphrodisias ap. Simpl. In Phys. 310. 25—311. 1 Diels (cf.
Alex. Aphr. In Metaph. 103. 37—104. 1, 349. 7—17 Hayduck). For a discussion of
Alexander's reading see D. Henry, 'Embryological Models in Ancient Philosophy',
Phronesis, 50 (2005), 1—42 at part 2.
260 Devin Henry
Whatever Aristotle means by this, Metaphysics © 5 is clear that the exercise of a re-
Xvr/, at least, requires a deliberate decision on the part of the agent that possesses that
Optimality Reasoning in Aristotle's Natural Teleology 261
BIBLIOGRAPHY
14). T o ask what co-ordinated those hvvajxeis i n the first place would be misguided,
since the developmental capacities possessed by Aristotelian species are not the re
sult of any process of evolution. That the natures of living things contain the sorts
of hvvajxeis for parts that are optimized for their way of life is a basic feature of Aris
totle's world, explained only (as a final cause) by reference to the contribution they
make to the animal's survival and well-being.
262 Devin Henry
J O H N M . COOPER
I N t w o i n d e p e n d e n t t r e a t m e n t s — E u d e m i a n Ethics z. 6-9 a n d
Nicomachean Ethics 3. 1—Aristotle discusses the r e s p o n s i b i l i t y
a n d correlative lack o f r e s p o n s i b i l i t y o f agents for the t h i n g s that
they d o — i n a b r o a d use o f the t e r m , for t h e i r actions. I n b o t h
places he w o r k s w i t h the same basic u n d e r s t a n d i n g o f w h a t sort
1
Mingay's O C T (1991), but w i t h frequent departures, all duly noted; whenever pos
sible, I stick to manuscript readings and forgo emendations.) The last sentence of
chapter 9, running over into chapter 10, marks the definitive conclusion of that inves
tigation: 'So, then, as to the voluntary and the involuntary, let them be thoroughly
marked off i n the foregoing way; let us speak after this of decision . . .' (i225 i7—18;
b
at 7, i223 2i—2, Aristotle had indicated that 'the ensuing investigation' marked at
a
I 2 2 2 i 5 has two parts: the voluntary and involuntary, and decision). ( I n my main
b
text I render Aristotle's talk here and elsewhere of 'voluntary' and 'involuntary',
i.e. 'not-voluntary', in terms of what an agent is responsible, or not responsible, for
in what they do; I comment on this implied equivalence below, n. 11, and see also
nn. 5 and 10.) The Nicomachean treatment (3. 1) is similarly followed up by the
announcement at the beginning of 3. 2 that 'Since the voluntary and the involun
tary have been thoroughly marked off, it is next i n order to go through decision'
( i i n 4 — 5 ) . (Translations from the Nicomachean Ethics are my own, based on By-
b
266 John M. Cooper
5
NE 3. 1, i n i 25—6, and 3. 2, 111 i 8—9. Here he says only that animals and chil
a b
dren do some 'voluntary' actions (he does not use of them instead or in addition a
separate Greek word one could translate as 'responsible', e.g. a'trioi). However (see
next note, and E E 2. 6, I223 i6—18), for Aristotle voluntary actions simply are the
a
ones that one is the cause of in a certain specific way, and so is causally responsible
for, as explained below. So i n emphasizing that children and animals do some things
voluntarily, he is saying that they are responsible for some of what they do.
268 John M. Cooper
is o n a d u l t a c t i o n ; the p a r a l l e l r e s p o n s i b i l i t y o f c h i l d r e n a n d animals
is a t a n g e n t i a l matter, aside f r o m the m a i n q u e s t i o n s addressed.)
However, w i t h only a little b i t of linguistic tweaking Aristotle's the
o r y as advanced i n the Eudemian Ethics makes animals responsible
for some o f w h a t t h e y do: see 2. 8, 1 2 2 4 ^ 0 - 3 0 . 6
H e n c e i t is clear
t h a t A r i s t o t l e ' s t h e o r y o f r e s p o n s i b i l i t y , as p r e s e n t e d i n b o t h the Eu
demian a n d the Nicomachean Ethics, is n o t , at least taken as a w h o l e
a n d i n its i n t e n t i o n s , a t h e o r y o f w h a t p h i l o s o p h e r s a n d o r d i n a r y
people m e a n n o w a d a y s w h e n t h e y speak o f ' m o r a l r e s p o n s i b i l i t y ' .
H i s t h e o r y is i n t e n d e d to be a t h e o r y o f s o m e t h i n g t h a t he t h i n k s
c h i l d r e n a n d n o n - h u m a n animals can have, as w e l l as a d u l t h u m a n s .
6
I t is true that Aristotle begins his discussion (EE 2. 6, I 2 2 2 i 8 — 2 0 ) by l i m i t i n g
b
actions (irpa^eis) to adults (see also I223 i—9); so when subsequently he discusses
a
that neither children nor animals do actions, he recognizes that they do do things
(not irparreiv, b u t noieiv, a verb he has also used of humans when they 'do' actions,
i 2 2 3 8 ) , and he says that, unlike cases when lifeless things 'do' or bring things about,
a
when animals do things they do them from appetite, a non-rational type of desire.
On the theory of voluntariness (responsibility) Aristotle is building up to i n the Eu
demian Ethics and sets out i n chapter 9, when an adult human acts, i.e. does some
thing, solely from appetite—not all adult actions are done also from a decision, for
Aristotle—then something that they do gets counted as something voluntary: A r i s
totle's theory holds that voluntary acts are done from non-rational desire or from
decision (see below). So when animals (and children) also act from non-rational de
sires alone, as of course for Aristotle they always do whenever they do anything at all,
the Eudemian Ethics' theory implies that they likewise act voluntarily, do something
they are responsible for. (The addition implied, when Aristotle states his theory suc
cinctly at 2. 9, I 2 2 5 3 7 — i , of 'on thought', Kara TTJV Stdvotav, when an act done from
a b
we w i l l see, this last phrase replaces the Eudemian Ethics' reference to 'on thought'
as any part of the definition of voluntariness. N o t h i n g suggests that in the Eudemian
Ethics Aristotle would deny that children and non-human animals do some things
thinking and indeed knowing, i.e. not in ignorance, that they are doing them. Hence,
as implied by the Eudemian Ethics' theory, they do them voluntarily, and are respon
sible for what they do.)
Aristotelian Responsibility 269
ing the essential leading idea of Aristotle's theory of the voluntary, speaks except i n
this final paragraph not at all of voluntary and involuntary but throughout only of
origins or originating principles (dpx 0 causes (atrt'a, ainov).
a o r
Before speaking of
voluntary and involuntary, i n this last paragraph, he is careful first to introduce the
terminology of what is 'up to' human beings (i223 2—3, 6, 8, 9), explicitly linking
a
this to what human beings are themselves the origin and originating cause of. V o l u n
tary and involuntary then become the main topic only of the further discussion, i n
chapters 7—8. First, in this last paragraph of chapter 6, they must be linked to what
a human being is an originating cause of, i.e. what they do that is 'up to' them. See
further n. 12 below.
270 John M. Cooper
8
See e.g. A . Eshleman, ' M o r a l Responsibility', in The Stanford Encyclopedia
of Philosophy (Winter 2009 Edition), ed. E. N . Zalta (http://plato.stanford.edu/
archives/win2oo9/entries/moral-responsibility/) [accessed 4 Apr. 2013], where i n
the first paragraph we read: 'to be morally responsible for something, say an action,
is to be worthy of a particular kind of reaction—praise, blame, or something akin to
these—for having performed i t ' .
9
I add the qualification ' i n general' here because Aristotle does seem to think that
anyone who is fully virtuous merits praise for every good thing that they do that they
are responsible for doing (see Rhet. 1. 9, I 3 6 6 3 6 ; EE 2. 1, i22o 6—7; 2. 6, I223 9—
a a a
10; 2. 11,1228 9—10; NE 1. 12, 1 i o i i 2 — 1 8 ) , just as every fully vicious person merits
a a
blame for every bad thing that they similarly do. T h i s would apply as much to so
cially and personally inconsequential virtuous or vicious actions (such as eating at
the right time, i n the right way, and the right amount—or the wrong ways, times,
amounts, and so on—under totally unremarkable circumstances of daily life) as it
does to the grandest and most consequential of virtuous or vicious acts: sacrificing
one's life for a friend or one's country, or venally betraying them, for example. I n
both sorts of case, the marvellous beauty and intelligent grasp of the whole of human
life and the human good (or vile misunderstanding of it) shines into and through the
action. Fully or completely virtuous and vicious people are relatively rare, however,
and many non-virtuous (but only decent) people do good things and are responsible
Aristotelian Responsibility 271
for doing them, or, also, bad things—they can even do them, on some occasions, i n
very much the same ways, on the same temporary understanding, or lack of it, that
characterizes the fully virtuous and vicious (see NE 2. 4, 1105*28—32). For Aristotle,
as we w i l l see, the question of praiseworthiness or blameworthiness is completely
open in such cases; one needs to consider the circumstances before one can decide
on that question.
272 John M. Cooper
do w i t h w h a t is or is n o t , or o u g h t or o u g h t n o t to be, c o u n t e d for
or against r e s p o n s i b i l i t y specifically i n the context o f the law, else
where i n the Ethics, i n the j o i n t l y N i c o m a c h e a n a n d E u d e m i a n b o o k
on justice (see e.g. i i3S 25 f f . ) ; b u t these are secondary a n d a n c i l l a r y
b
Nicomachean Ethics (1 io9 32—3; 111 i 4 ) by contrasting these two notions using the
b b
I I
1 1
Here and elsewhere I may seem to be using 'voluntary' and 'responsible' vir
tually interchangeably. But though Aristotle's theory certainly does explain the vo
luntariness of actions in terms of their agents' causal responsibility for them, both
in English and i n the Greek equivalent an agent can be responsible, through what
their voluntary actions cause, for a good deal more than just their actions themselves.
Thus (to draw on an example from below, sect, V I I I ) , my dog can be responsible for
the mess on my kitchen floor by voluntarily (and perhaps defiantly) peeing on it; but,
on Aristotle's theory, it is only his action of peeing that was voluntary. We need to
bear that distinction in mind as we proceed in the coming sections to the details of
Aristotle's theory.
274 John M. Cooper
1 3
A n action's being up to me or caused by me may differ in the meanings or con
notations of these distinct terms, of course, but w i t h this equivalence Aristotle makes
it clear that the notion of what is 'up to us' as he employs i t i n his discussions of the
voluntary, both here and i n the Nicomachean Ethics, is a strictly causal one. I f we are
the (originating) cause of an action of ours, i t is up to us to do; and if something is
up to us to do, or not do, that means merely that i f we (should) do i t we are (would
be) the cause, and i f we do not do i t we are the cause of that, as well. Wherever i n
either the Eudemian or the Nicomachean Ethics Aristotle speaks of something being
up to us to do or not do, he says nothing about any 'free choice' between the alterna
tives, especially i f that is taken to imply a 'liberty of indifference'. He speaks only of
our causal role i n doing whatever we do, including our omissions. (See further n. 47
below, and its main text.)
13
I223 i6—17: i n fact what Aristotle literally says is that all agree that the actions
a
a human being is the cause of are all and only those that are both voluntary and
done on his own decision, when what he means instead is that humans are causes of
their voluntary actions, including those that are done on a decision. Adults are held,
under his theory not only i n the Nicomaceahn Ethics but i n the Eudemian Ethics as
well, to be responsible for akratic actions, which are definitely not done, according
to Aristotle, on decisions to do them: see e.g. i 2 2 3 i — 2 , 8, 33. T h e slip, if there is
b
one, no doubt results from his focus, noted above, on showing the voluntariness of
acts of virtue and vice: actions of virtue or vice are always done on decisions to do
them. I n any event, the Eudemian Ethics' introduction here (at 1223^—9 together
w i t h 16—17) ° f its discussion of voluntary and involuntary actions establishes the
following terminological relationships: actions that are 'up to' an agent are all and
only the ones that that agent causes through its own agency (or would cause, i f it did
them), and all and only the voluntary actions are actions that an agent is cause of i n
that way. T h u s 'up to oneself and 'voluntary' are coextensive terms (in the case of
things 'up to oneself that one actually does), but 'up to oneself is an overtly causal
notion, while 'voluntary' is not. One should note that this coextensiveness applies i n
Aristotle's conception of agency to all agents, animals and small children as well as
adults. Whenever an agent does something voluntary i t does something 'up to i t ' to
do. For the application of the terminology of 'up to' i t to all animals see Phys. 8. 4,
255*5-10.
1 4
He then proceeds, i n 2. 7—9, by considering each of these in t u r n as what is
the cause of actions that are voluntary, before deciding (i225 36— i) that the right
a b
answer is: the voluntary is what is done 'on thought' (TO Kara TTJV hidvoiav). Thus
the Eudemian Ethics' verbal formula for what the voluntary is does differ markedly
Aristotelian Responsibility 275
from the Nicomachean Ethics' summary statement denning the voluntary, discussed
in the next paragraph but one below. But i n fact, as we w i l l see, when one takes into
account the qualifications provided i n the discussion i n the Eudemian Ethics leading
up to its formula, the two theories do not differ at all i n substance.
15
I t is sometimes thought that Aristotle means here to mark off the voluntary, as
if by definition, as whatever is blameworthy (if it is bad, i.e. vicious) or praiseworthy
(if it is good, i.e. virtuous). On such a view, voluntary actions would be subject to an
initial, though defeasible, presumption of praiseworthiness or blameworthiness: i f it
was something completely trivial, in no way a good or a bad thing to do, that would
count as a 'defeater'. However, we w i l l see as we proceed that in fact Aristotle applies
to at least two classes of what he counts as voluntary actions a threefold set of options:
praise, blame, or sympathetic allowance (see sect, v below). Moreover, many of what
Aristotle counts as virtuous actions, all of which are voluntary, are too simple and
universally expected of us to be even presumptively worth praising anyone for (or
blaming anyone for not doing): ones of eating w i t h normal decorum, as against mild
overindulgence, behaving w i t h normal friendliness as against abruptly (but not ac
tually rudely) to shopkeepers or people passing by in the street, for example. I t would
seem, then, that Aristotle did not mean at i i o 9 3 0 to imply a presumption of praise
b
or blame (even a defeasible one) for voluntary actions. ( I thank Lesley Brown and
Anna Marmodoro for questions that led me to add this footnote.)
1 6
As noted above (pp. 271—2), besides the two formal expositions of voluntariness,
EE 2. 6—9 and NE 3. 1—5, Aristotle develops and applies ideas about voluntariness i n
NE 5 =EE 4, chapters 8—9. A t one place there (1 i 3 5 i ) Aristotle speaks of getting old
b
and dying and similar things that 'belong to us by nature' as things 'that we both do
[npaTTOfxev] and undergo', none of which is either voluntary or involuntary. He is no
doubt led to speak of (some) of these as things we do (i.e. actions of ours) because of
the naturalness, both i n Greek and English, of saying that we 'do' these things. But
his theory of voluntariness in the formal expositions in both treatises does not treat
these as actions at all: that is why, on the official theory, they are neither voluntary
nor involuntary.
276 John M. Cooper
Despite n o t h a v i n g a c l a r i f y i n g i n t r o d u c t i o n , w h e n the
N i c o m a c h e a n t r e a t m e n t finally gives its s u m m a r y statement o f
w h a t the v o l u n t a r y is, almost at the e n d o f his discussion (111 i 2 2 - a
source (apxv) l s
t m m
agent] itself, w h e n i t k n o w s the p a r t i c u l a r s
e
1 7
T h o u g h grammatically awkward, this wording makes it clear that on Aristotle's
definition the only things that are directly voluntary are actions (as noted above, n. 4,
feelings and character are voluntary only derivatively). So certain actions, the vo
luntary ones, are what on this definition an agent is responsible for. So for Aristotle,
when someone causes an explosion, what is voluntary for the agent, and what they
are responsible for, is not the explosion, but doing the action of causing one. See fur
ther below, sect. i l l .
Aristotelian Responsibility 277
I l l
1 8
I n contemporary philosophy the standard view, or treatment, of actions i n
volves considering a single action at any time, which then is susceptible of multiple
true descriptions. O n such a view the bodily movements or ensemble of movements
in which the agent immediately exercises their agency could be regarded as the 'basic
action' to which these further descriptions apply: nipping a light switch, turning
on a light. I n Aristotle's NE definition for voluntary actions ( i i n 2 2 — 4 ) quoteda
just above, one can see at once that he approaches this topic w i t h an alternative,
multiple-actions-at-a-time view, illustrated below i n my main text. He speaks of
'the particulars i n which the action [i.e. the one that the definition means to identify
as a voluntary one] is situated'. The basic action, on the standard view, takes place
in all the particulars that help to distinguish the different descriptions that apply to
that basic action; so, i n fact, do each of the 'other' actions-under-a-description, such
as nipping a switch or turning on a light. When Aristotle speaks of the voluntary
action in any case of voluntary action, he is plainly considering a large number of
distinct actions done at the same time w i t h the same movements, each action taking
place in some particulars of its own situation, differing from one another in that they
do have those different particulars; the voluntary ones among those actions are the
ones that have their origin i n the agent's desires or decisions, and knowledge. Aris
totle never countenances talk of a single action being voluntary under one description,
but perhaps not voluntary under some other one that equally applies to it. I point
out this difference between Aristotle's approach to the individuation of actions and
the contemporary one simply out of faithfulness to Aristotle's view. T h o u g h I think
Aristotle's approach is more intuitive and natural, I do not mean to claim for it any
theoretical superiority. For an alternative similar to Aristotle's see A. I . Goldman,
'The Individuation of Action', Journal of Philosophy, 68 (1971), 761—74.
278 John M. Cooper
1 9
Aristotle may be thinking of Oedipus when he mentions a person who struck a
man, not knowing it was his father, at NE $ = EE 4, 1I35 28—30. a
3 0
On single occasions of action there w i l l be many, many things relevant to his
agency that are true of the agent, his circumstances, and the consequences of his
action. A given observer might or might not take note of most of these, or take an
interest in them i f they did. None the less, an agent always does an open-endedly
numerous number of things, ready for any observer or theorist to take note of and
raise questions about. T h a t open-endedness is not a reasonable ground of objection
to Aristotle's way of counting actions; at any rate, it does not give the observer the
power to bring an action into being just by paying attention to it.
3 1
As noted above, Aristotle's core theory of voluntariness, which he is about to
develop for us i n the remainder of this chapter, is a theory of voluntary actions, as
such. See nn. 4, 16, 17, and sect, ix below. I n 3. 1 (and EE 2. 6—9) Aristotle rea-
Aristotelian Responsibility 279
sonably works out first a theory of the voluntariness specifically and only of actions
(doings), before considering other things besides actions that also count as voluntary.
3 3
I t is true, as noted above, that Aristotle writes in the same sentence referred
to here that virtues concern 'passions and actions', but passions are silently set
aside from the outset, beginning w i t h the mention of praise and blame in 1 i o 9 3 1 — b
lawgivers ( 34—5) do not punish people for how they feel. I n this chapter only actions
b
its second clause specifying knowledge of the particulars of 'the action' as required
for voluntariness). So no other sorts of phenomena, other things that happen (e.g.
the wind blowing a tree over), are included w i t h i n the intended scope of the phrase
'things that happen' at 11 i o i . a
3 3
I translate 6 irpdrraw r) 6 iraoxtov at 11 io 2—3 by 'the one acting, or the one be
a
ing affected [by the source]', rather than by e.g. 'the agent, or [rather] the v i c t i m '
(T. H . I r w i n i n Aristotle: Nicomachean Ethics, 2nd edn. (Cambridge and Indiana
polis, 1999)), because (even if, as I explain below, this agent is a victim) we must
not take being a v i c t i m in the way indicated here to preclude being also an agent,
as Irwin's translation (intentionally, i t seems) suggests it does. Notice, i n any event,
that ndoxcov here refers to undergoing effects imposed by the outside source. I t is not
to be related to the irdOr) (passions) that Aristotle begins the chapter by specifying
that, alongside actions, virtues and vices concern. Also, one should note that the verb
Aristotle uses for 'taking h i m off' extremely often, when a person is the object of the
verb, means 'conduct, escort' and does not at all connote physical carrying of the
person; see LSJ s.v I I . So here. ( I thank Christopher Taylor for raising questions
that led me to add the clarifications in this note, and the preceding one.)
3 4
A t EE I224 i5—20 Aristotle talks about 'lifeless' things, such as a stone, and
a
how they have two sorts of motion, their own natural one (downwards, for example),
caused by an inner impulse of their own, and another 'compulsory' one, by neces-
sitation, when something outside moves them contrary to that natural impulse. So
2 8o John M. Cooper
IV
far, he says, that is like the human case: movement is voluntary when deriving from
the inner impulse, involuntary when from the outer cause. However, Aristotle insists
that i n the case of the stone its natural motion is not voluntary, nor, by implication, is
its necessitated one involuntary. Later, at I 2 2 4 i 3 — 1 5 , he alludes to the case where
b
someone takes someone else's hand and strikes some third party w i t h it. Aristotle
compares that w i t h just the sort of necessitation that a stone undergoes. So in this
human case, as w i t h that of the stone, the person is not involuntarily struck. (Aris
totle irrelevantly makes the person struck resist the striker's force; but that does not
affect the lack of involuntariness i n what happens to him.)
Aristotelian Responsibility 281
3 6
See m o i 8 : 'So such actions are voluntary.' T o clarify Aristotle's distinction
a
between compulsion and what I am calling coercion, and to see why he insists that
coerced actions are voluntary, consider this variation on the compelled action of my
kidnap victim. So far i n my main text we have considered two cases, one where the
victim does the action of going where he is forced to go, and the other where he re
fuses and is simply carried off, altogether inactive. But there is a third possibility.
Suppose, as before, that the victim realizes it is hopeless to resist, and thinks the
best chance he has of breaking free is to co-operate. So, while still looking around
furtively for openings for escape, he plays along, so that his captors do not need to
keep on exercising their control (pushing h i m ahead, keeping the ropes tight, etc.).
They just tell h i m which direction to walk, and how fast, and so on, and he fol
lows their instructions. T h i s person decides to go wherever it is they are taking h i m
(maybe they even tell h i m where, so he knows the destination as one of the parti
culars in which this action of his of going somewhere is situated). He acts under
coercion, because of their implicit or explicit serious and believable threat of harm
to h i m if he does not co-operate. But he goes voluntarily. His action of going there is
not compelled (as we saw it would be if he were bound and pushed or pulled along)
but voluntary. (Of course, there is more to be said about this action than merely
that: see the next two paragraphs of my main text.) The fact that, as noted above,
the compelled agent had the option of ceasing to act, w i t h the result that he would
be physically carried to the same place, does not, as I explained, make his action of
walking a case of coerced, but voluntary action. However, i f instead he should take
that option, the action that he then does (of going limp etc.) he does voluntarily, as
I have also said. So i f he knows that by going limp he w i l l just make the kidnappers
beat h i m over the head and carry h i m , he may be responsible for doing the further
action of allowing himself to be carried there. Still, getting there by being carried is
neither voluntary nor involuntary—it just happens to h i m . So the distinction between
compulsion and coercion remains. The coerced agent does an action of going to the
place he ends up i n (and does it voluntarily); the compelled agent ends up there,
and goes there, involuntarily. I n assessing responsibility and considering praise or
blame i n all three cases—the compelled agent, the coerced one, and the one that
goes limp—we l i m i t ourselves to what they did do voluntarily. Voluntarily walking
under coercion, voluntarily opting to go limp, and voluntarily allowing yourself to
be carried somewhere are importantly different actions. Praise and blame for these
different voluntary actions involve different considerations. ( I thank Ursula Coope
and Terence I r w i n for raising questions that led to these clarifications.)
28 4
John M. Cooper
3 7
i n o 9 , 18—19; 11 i o 3 , 5. Aristotle understandably focuses on bad actions done
a b
under coercion: these, he argues, are not to be blamed, but given sympathetic al
lowance because of the exigent circumstances. However, though he takes no explicit
notice of this, his analysis opens up parallel cases where, because of the exigent cir
cumstances, the agent does the right thing, but because of the exigency does not
deserve praise for doing so: these would involve a parallel to sympathetic allowance,
which one might call 'sympathetic reservation'. For example, suppose the ship cap
tain, in the excitement caused by the storm, keeps thinking of the ship owner and
his distress at the loss of the cargo, and so cannot bring himself to throw it over
board: he does not hold back from doing that because i n fact, i n a cool moment, that
would have been the right decision, but just because of his sympathy for his friend,
the owner. Or suppose the man subject to the tyrant's threats does the right thing
(e.g. refuses to tell the secret) but not on the grounds that make that the right thing
to do (in which case his action would merit praise, because it would show laudatory
resolve not to be distracted by threats from doing the right thing): he does it because
all he can think of when subjected to the tyrant's pressure is the punishment he w i l l
receive when his government learns of his betrayal. We should bear i n mind, i n as
sessing Aristotle's theory, both of these alternatives to praise and blame for bad and
good actions under exigent circumstances: sympathetic allowance and what I have
called sympathetic reservation.
2 86 John M. Cooper
One might note here that many actions undertaken despite their unwanted con
3 8
sequences (say, having a twenty-year mortgage debt to pay off, after signing loan
documents as the best available way of obtaining a house one wants) also have some
thing involuntary about them: no one takes on such a debt 'without qualification' or
'in its own right'. But having such an involuntary element does not make an act a
coerced one, on Aristotle's theory of coerced or 'mixed' actions. For h i m , coercion
requires truly exigent circumstances: believable threat to life, serious harm to one
self or someone one has responsibilities for or cares greatly about, and the like. T h a t
it is not always easy or generally agreed whether some circumstance is an exigent
one does not undermine Aristotle's account: whether one was coerced is often, and
reasonably, hard to determine. ( I thank Terence I r w i n for discussion leading to this
clarification.)
Aristotelian Responsibility 287
3 9
One should take note also of what Aristotle says (11 io 26—9) about Alcmaeon's
a
action of murdering his mother, and his claim, i n Euripides' play, that he was 'neces
sitated' to do it. Perhaps i n the play (which is lost) Alcmaeon meant to say he acted
under compulsion (jSt'a); but Aristotle mentions h i m here as someone who claimed
to have acted under coercion (his father's curse, if he did not kill her, was, Aristotle
says he said, among the dvayKaoavra—this being the term Aristotle uses for coercion
as opposed to compulsion). T h a t is, Aristotle counts h i m as claiming to have done a
'mixed' action—voluntary, but excusable. Aristotle says it was ridiculous to claim the
curse imposed coercive pressure, of the sort the tyrant or the high seas certainly did
on the people in his other examples. So Alcmaeon is not i n the least entitled to sym
pathetic allowance for the murder. But why was it ridiculous to claim coercion in this
case? Presumably because it is ridiculous to think any god could be brought, even by
a murdered father's curse, to visit anything bad on Alcmaeon for not murdering his
mother! (Broadie and Rowe's account of the absurdity here, p. 312, is ineffective: if
both alternatives, doing the murder and accepting the alleged consequences of the
curse, were 'humanly unbearable', i.e. such as to 'overstrain human nature', then
Alcmaeon was acting under coercion, whichever of the alternatives he chose.) Aris
totle's point is that, even i f Alcmaeon trembled i n fear of his father's curse and that
fear was among the emotions and desires that caused his action (idiotically supersti
tious as he may have been), it is not merely how you feel that determines whether
you acted under coercion; there has to be, objectively speaking, something i n human
nature itself and human circumstances, as they actually are, that places real pressure
on anyone i n a situation similar to the agent's.
3 0
Here we touch upon what I think is the sole significant difference between the
Eudemian and the Nicomachean treatments of voluntariness. I n a somewhat cryptic
final section of EE 2. 8 (1225 i9—34) Aristotle seems to allow that some emotions (an
a
ger, lust) or unspecified and puzzling 'natural conditions' can sometimes arise in a
human person which are 'strong and beyond nature' (that is, I take it, too strong
for our nature to withstand, to-^vpa teal vnep TTJV <j>voiv)—a strange t h i n g for a 'na
tural condition' to be! I n those cases, he says, we should make allowances, not, as i n
the Nicomachean Ethics, by retaining our judgement that they have acted voluntar
ily (while holding that they are not subject to legitimate criticism), but by holding
that these emotions and conditions are 'naturally such as to exercise compulsion on
our nature', thus rendering those acts not voluntary at all, but involuntary because
compelled. Aristotle goes on to compare people in such situations to those who speak
2 88 John M. Cooper
prophecies when possessed by the god, as at the Pythian oracle: some god is acting on
them, causing what they say, rather than themselves being the originating source of
their actions through their own desires and state of mind. T h i s is a very injudicious
concession on Aristotle's part (it invites the claim i n all sorts of emotional situations
that what one did was involuntary because compelled), and I take the explicit use
of the same term for 'sympathetic allowance' (ovyyvfxt^) i n the Nicomachean Ethics
( m o 2 4 ) as here i n the Eudemian Ethics as intended to emphasize the Nicomachean
a
Ethics' departure from, and correction of, the Eudemian Ethics' injudicious analysis.
I take it, though Aristotle is not explicit here or elsewhere about this, that among
3 1
the particulars one could be ignorant of are various 'moral' features of the situation,
for example, that pawing this particular female is shameful and bad (something that
you do when drunk, due to drink), or that slugging this offensive man i n the face
(something that you do i n , and because of, violent anger) is shameful. I t is not just
factual ignorance, due to drink, for example that what you are doing i n reaching out
to paw someone is knocking over a prized vase, or ignorance due to anger that you
are shoving someone hard enough to break his arm, that prevents an act from being
involuntary; drink or violent anger can make you ignorant of relevant moral facts
too, and acting in ignorance of them on such an occasion also counts not as acting
from ignorance of a 'particular', but only in ignorance.
Aristotelian Responsibility 289
to k n o w a n d to bear i n m i n d . 3 2
So we n e e d to add to A r i s t o t l e ' s ac
c o u n t o f i n v o l u n t a r y actions a second class, besides c o m p e l l e d ones:
actions due to ignorance o f s i g n i f i c a n t p a r t i c u l a r s o f those actions'
circumstances. 33
3 3
This latter qualification is made explicit at EE 2. 9, i 2 2 5 i 1—16, and echoed at
b
NE 3 . 5 , 1 1 i3 33—11 i4 3- See also 11 i3 24—5 and 3 1—3, where Aristotle repeats the
b a b
point that ignorance that one has oneself caused voluntarily, i.e. through one's own
desires and knowledge at some earlier time (e.g. by getting drunk), does not render
involuntary relevant actions that one does later. Notice also that Aristotle's recog
nition, i n discussing coerced actions, that not all coerced bad actions, even though
voluntary, merit blame, but sympathetic allowance instead, applies here too. Yes,
your anger (one of your own states of motivation) caused you, for example, to lose
control and slug some offensive guy i n the face, a shameful thing to do: but some
sudden face-to-face insults can be such that, as Aristotle puts it at 11 io 25—6 i n dis a
cussing coerced actions, they 'overstrain human nature, and no one could endure
them'. On Aristotle's theory, even if he does not take explicit notice of the parallel
in this respect between coerced actions and some actions done ' i n ' but not 'due to'
ignorance, some bad actions that are not due to ignorance, and so count as voluntary
on his theory, are none the less, on his view, properly not subject to blame, but are
to be given sympathetic allowance. I t is not merely w i t h coerced actions that one
has the options, depending on the circumstances, of praising, blaming, or neither of
those, but showing sympathetic allowance; one has the same three options also i n
the case of voluntary actions done in ignorance but not due to ignorance.
3 3
I take it, however, that ignorance of some trivial and insignificant feature of an
action would not make it, for Aristotle, an involuntary one. If, for example, I do not
know that the club I beat someone over the head w i t h once belonged to my second
cousin, it should not follow, on Aristotle's theory, that I involuntarily beat the person
w i t h my second cousin's former club. Aristotle speaks briefly and summarily here.
3 4
As we have seen, other actions that he does i n the same movements do, of course,
have their origins i n his desires or decision-power, and in his knowledge.
290 John M. Cooper
V I
3 5
When Aristotle's formula in the Nicomachean Ethics defines the voluntary as
'that of which the originating source is in [the agent] itself, when [my italics] it knows
the particulars of the action's situation', note that he apparently implies that not
positively grasping the particulars of an action that one none the less does renders
it involuntary. Thus i f I happen not to know that Princeton water comes from the
Delaware and Raritan canal, then, it seems to be implied, I involuntarily let some
D & R water into my sink when I turn on the tap i n Princeton. A n d that may seem a
strange thing to say: even i f I do not know that fact, surely I still do let some D & R
water into my sink voluntarily, just because I voluntarily turn the tap on. But i n
fact, as we have seen, in applying his formula to his second sort of involuntary action
(ones done i n ignorance), Aristotle speaks always of acts done not just in ignorance
(as w i t h letting D & R water into my sink) but from ignorance. Presumably when I let
the D & R water in I do not do that from ignorance (as Oedipus did when he killed
his father). Now, a person in Oedipus' situation might or might not have gone ahead
and bashed the geezer even i f he had known it was his father; but he would certainly
have stopped and thought a b i t before continuing. So the action that he did, i n the
way he did it (i.e. without pausing to think), was caused by that ignorance. But i n
my case, my not knowing did not play any sort of causal role i n my letting the D & R
water i n . What do I care where my water comes from? N o t knowing where it comes
from had no effect on my letting i n the D & R water, i n the way that I did that. I t
seems, then, that i n the Nicomachean definition of the voluntary, the requirement
that the agent know the particulars of any voluntary action he does is more success
ful if we interpret that to mean that the agent must act not from ignorance i n doing
it. M o r e precisely, then, the voluntary, for Aristotle, is: that of which the originating
source is i n [the agent] itself, when it acts not from ignorance of the particulars of
the action's situation. ( I thank Hendrik Lorenz for raising questions that led to this
clarification.) Alternatively, to meet this potential difficulty, one might say simply
that the particulars referred to i n the definition, ignorance of which renders an action
involuntary, are to be understood exclusively as significant ones. (See n. 33 above.)
Perhaps Aristotle means his definition to allow that ignorance of some trivial and
insignificant feature of an action (such as, in my example, where the water comes
from) does not make it involuntary.
Aristotelian Responsibility 291
previously, he recognizes o n l y i n passing his theory's a p p l i c a b i l i t y
to a n i m a l a n d i m m a t u r e h u m a n agents; b u t i n d o i n g so, he shows
clearly that he recognizes a n d accepts that a p p l i c a t i o n , even i f he
has l i t t l e interest i n e x a m i n i n g i t closely. A n d i n fact o n l y a l i t t l e
reflection shows that o n A r i s t o t l e ' s t h e o r y c h i l d r e n , a n d indeed a n i
mals o f many, m a n y species ( i f n o t a l l ) , do do q u i t e a l o t o f things
v o l u n t a r i l y , a n d some things i n v o l u n t a r i l y . H i s definitions o f v o
luntariness i n terms o f an o r i g i n a t i n g source i n an agent's desires
(but n o t decisions: for A r i s t o t l e , o n l y a d u l t agents have the capa
c i t y for t h a t ) , and o f k n o w i n g ( i n the sense o f n o t b e i n g i g n o r a n t of)
significant p a r t i c u l a r s i n w h i c h actions are situated, a p p l y to these
other agents, too. A u t o m a t i c processes, o f course, cause some o f the
t h i n g s animals and c h i l d r e n do, as w i t h h u m a n adults. B u t some o f
w h a t they do is caused b y t h e i r desires, g u i d e d b y w h a t they k n o w
about t h e i r s i t u a t i o n (that is, about the p a r t i c u l a r s i n w h i c h w h a t is
caused b y t h e m i n that way w i l l take place). D o m e s t i c animals, b u t
w i l d ones too, often k n o w w h e n a n d where there is food to be f o u n d
at times w h e n they are h u n g r y , and they act v o l u n t a r i l y , o n A r i s
totle's theory, w h e n they t h e n p u r s u e a n d consume i t . T h e y scratch
t h e i r itches, m o v e u n d e r cover w h e n i t is t i m e to go to sleep, a n d do
m a n y other h u m d r u m actions, k n o w i n g w h a t they are d o i n g , a n d
out o f n a t u r a l l y arising desires o f theirs. C o r r e s p o n d i n g things are
true also o f c h i l d r e n f r o m an early age. So all those behaviours are
v o l u n t a r y actions ( i n a b r o a d usage o f the w o r d ' a c t i o n ' that A r i s
totle does i n fact often e m p l o y ) : i f one wishes to restrict the use o f
3 6
3 7
So it would be open to h i m to say that there is something special about children
and animals that makes it always inappropriate to praise or blame them: something
in their natures as agents, perhaps, precludes this. He might point to their lack of the
power for decision-making, and argue that since animal and child agency is d i m i
nished to that extent, in comparison w i t h that of adults, it is never legitimate to praise
or blame them for anything they do. So, he could say, they meet the necessary condi
tion for legitimate praise and blame of some of their actions (the voluntary ones), but
other factors (systemic ones) prevent them from ever i n fact being worthy of praise or
blame. I n fact, Aristotle says nothing to this effect and it would seem rather arbitrary,
on his purely causal theory of the voluntary, to break the link from voluntariness to
Aristotelian Responsibility 293
is p r a i s e w o r t h y , a n d n o t every b a d a c t i o n v o l u n t a r i l y done is b l a m e
w o r t h y T o say t h a t an agent is responsible for a g o o d or a b a d ac
t i o n is n o t yet to praise or b l a m e t h e m , even ' i n one's h e a r t ' . In
any case, i t is a n o t h e r e v i d e n t fact o f c o m m o n life t h a t people do
praise and b l a m e b o t h t h e i r c h i l d r e n and t h e i r d o m e s t i c a n i m a l s for
some t h i n g s t h e y do v o l u n t a r i l y ( t h o u g h c e r t a i n l y n o t a l l even o f the
g o o d or b a d t h i n g s t h e y v o l u n t a r i l y d o ) . 3 8
So I take i t t h a t A r i s t o t l e
w o u l d n o t t h i n k t h a t , because o f the l i n k t h a t he recognizes b e t w e e n
v o l u n t a r i n e s s a n d praise a n d b l a m e , his causal t h e o r y o f r e s p o n s i
b i l i t y , c o v e r i n g a n i m a l s a n d c h i l d r e n , too, is inadequate: he w o u l d
have n o p r o b l e m i n a c c e p t i n g the idea t h a t because c h i l d r e n and
a n i m a l s do v o l u n t a r y actions t h e y are l e g i t i m a t e l y subject, exactly
as n o r m a l a d u l t s are, too, to praise or b l a m e for some o f t h e m . 3 9
(I
actual praise and blame for some actions even i n the case of such diminished agents as
animals and children. (Which those actions would be is another question.)
3 8
T h e fact that domestic animals are normally trained by their owners to behave
or not behave in certain ways is clearly part of the background that makes praise
and blame seem sometimes appropriate i n their case. Humans do not normally live
in that kind of close relationship w i t h wild species (and they live w i t h insects and
vermin such as mice on a different basis from w i t h dogs and cats, or even sheep and
cows, i n their houses and on their farms). So (except w i t h captured ones i n zoos or
circuses) any praise or blame that might be accorded wild animals' voluntary ac
tions would have to come, i f at all, from other animals of their own species, w i t h
which they live or anyhow interact, and it might be doubtful whether even w i l d apes
have the capacity to praise or blame one another (though some recent observations
of ape communities both i n captivity and i n the wild might give one pause over this
assumption). I have read about a rogue lion in an African wild-life preserve that is
known periodically to attempt to have sex w i t h females of other prides than his own,
and then, when they refuse h i m , he and his younger brother attack and, i f possible,
k i l l them. Such very abnormal and leoninely vicious behaviour does seem voluntary,
and presumably all lions must know that this is not the right way for a lion to behave:
no other lions do this. So perhaps even w i t h wild animals praise or blame might be
legitimate. Even if the fellows of their own species w i t h which they live might be
incapable of doing either of those things, we can do it for them. However, I limit my
discussion in the mam text to domestic animals.
3 9
One should emphasize here that Aristotle does not i n any way mark off adult
human voluntary acts as a special class of voluntary ones from those of non-adult
agents. He neither says that only the adult ones are open to praise or blame (see n. 37)
nor that only the adults' are 'up to them' (see n. 12 above). Alexander of Aphrodisias,
writing in the 2nd cent, C E , five hundred years after Aristotle's death, develops an
anti-Stoic Aristotelian' analysis (which he happily attributes to Aristotle himself,
as an honoured authority), according to which only adults do voluntary actions that
are 'up to them'. See Alex. Aphr. Defato 13, 180. 4—6, and 14, 183. 26—32 Bruns. I n
effect, then, for Alexander, only adult humans are 'responsible' agents. Alexander's
distinction between what is voluntary and what is 'up to' the agent does violence to
Aristotle's texts, though it is easily understood and explicable as a move i n the 2nd-
cent. Peripatetic attacks on Stoic theories of action and determinism.
294 John M. Cooper
VII
4 0
O n the first suggested option, we would say that Aristotle's theory is mistaken:
it omits a crucial condition, beyond the causal ones he isolates and explains so well i n
his analysis of (mere) voluntariness, as something necessary for responsibility, namely
(as I go on to explain i n my main text) the capacity for making reasoned decisions.
The second option seems to have been T. H . Irwin's, when he wrote his 'Reason and
Responsibility i n Aristotle', i n A . Rorty (ed.), Essays on Aristotle's Ethics (Berkeley
and Los Angeles, 1980), 117—55. I r w i n argues there that we can construct from A r i s
totelian materials (and that Aristotle and we need) an Aristotelian 'complex' theory
of responsibility limited to adult humans, whose capacity for making and acting on
'decisions' {TTpoaiploeis) makes them free i n a way that animals and human children
are not, and so makes them legitimately subject to real praise and blame (praise and
blame of the 'moral' sort). The brunt of my remarks i n what follows is to argue
against either rejecting Aristotle's own 'simple' theory, as I r w i n calls it, as an i n
adequate theory of responsibility, or supplementing it w i t h a second, Aristotelian
'complex' theory. I n my view, Aristotle did not think we needed any theory of res
ponsibility beyond his 'simple' one, and I think he was right.
Aristotelian Responsibility 295
'moral' r e s p o n s i b i l i t y — s o that o n l y n o r m a l h u m a n adults are really
responsible for any o f t h e i r actions, a n d i n b e i n g responsible are
always, specifically, ' m o r a l l y ' responsible? 41
4 1
You can be legally responsible (e.g. under statutes imposing strict liability) for
things that happen that you do not count as 'morally' responsible for (and do not do
voluntarily either, by Aristotle's definition). Legal responsibility, as I mentioned i n
sect. 1, needs to be set aside as a special further topic.
296 John M. Cooper
4 3
Hence there is a tendency in ordinary speech and thought to withhold the ter
minology of responsibility i n speaking of trivial actions—tying your left shoe first,
or walking faster than usual for some reason having nothing to do w i t h your own
or other people's moral interests. (Philosophical theories of responsibility might, of
Aristotelian Responsibility 297
course, regiment such restrictions away, on the ground that they reflect confusion
about the implications of responsibility, i.e. 'moral' responsibility.) On Aristotle's
theory, of course, all such actions, trivial though they may be, count as ones the
agents are responsible for on precisely the same ground as they are for any other
action, however momentous: their desires and knowledge are the originating cause.
T h i s is clarifyingly straightforward.
4 3
For the conceptual implications of 'moral responsibility' see Eshleman, ' M o r a l
Responsibility'. Note that if one restricts agent-responsibility to adults (separating
that from mere causal responsibility, open to children, animals, and mere natural
processes), then the agents i n my examples, and other similar ones, really have done
nothing they are responsible for.
298 John M. Cooper
VIII
4 4
Here we must bear in mind that on Aristotle's view, and on the view of the per
sons whose attitudes I am describing here, there is always an option, when reacting
to someone's voluntary bad or good action, not to praise or blame at all, but, i f it was
a bad action, to respond w i t h sympathetic allowance—in case it was either coerced or
due to 'voluntary' ignorance, under circumstances where you think normal human
beings should not be expected to see the right thing to do: they 'overstrain human
nature' ( m o 2 5 ; see n. 32 above). A n d , for trivial voluntary actions such as tying
a
one's right shoe first instead of the left, no reactive response at all is merited. So, on
Aristotle's view and the view of those whose attitudes I am describing, to recognize
responsibility does not, as 'moral' responsibility does, involve thinking that the agent
has done anything worthy of praise or blame or other such reactive attitudes, or even
any reactive attitude at all.
304 John M. Cooper
s u p p l e m e n t A r i s t o t l e ' s t h e o r y o f r e s p o n s i b i l i t y so as to a l l o w re
c o g n i t i o n o f ' m o r a l ' responsibility. B u t m o s t o f A r i s t o t l e ' s v i r t u o u s
a n d v i c i o u s actions seem o b v i o u s l y n o t f i t subjects o f that k i n d o f
r e s p o n s i b i l i t y (or the c o r r e s p o n d i n g sort o f praise or blame): m o
d e r a t i o n i n p u r s u i t o f the pleasures o f the table, or o v e r r a t i n g a n d
o v e r i n d u l g i n g i n t h e m , for example. A n d to force o n A r i s t o t l e re
c o g n i t i o n o f the special a n d i n d e e d p r i o r m o r a l i m p o r t a n c e o f w h a t
we owe to one another as a m a t t e r o f m o d e r n - d a y ' m o r a l ' r i g h t a n d
w r o n g (so as to l i m i t m o r a l responsibility, for h i m , so that i t a p p l i e d
o n l y to those v i r t u o u s a n d v i c i o u s acts) w o u l d require an intolerable
u p d a t i n g i n his o w n m o r a l attitudes that, i f i t d i d n o t d i r e c t l y u n d e r
m i n e his simple t h e o r y o f voluntariness a n d agent-responsibility,
w o u l d c e r t a i n l y be n o s i m p l e s u p p l e m e n t a t i o n .
M o r e damagingly, any such a t t e m p t e d ' s u p p l e m e n t a t i o n ' w o u l d
deprive A r i s t o t l e ' s t h e o r y o f agent r e s p o n s i b i l i t y o f w h a t I have ar
g u e d is its chief excellence: its salutary separation o f questions o f
r e s p o n s i b i l i t y f r o m evaluative issues. I n r e c o g n i z i n g ' m o r a l ' res
p o n s i b i l i t y o f n o r m a l adults for some o f the things they do he w o u l d
be a d m i t t i n g a f o r m o f r e s p o n s i b i l i t y that fused these issues. T o i n
t e r p r e t h i m that w a y w o u l d c e r t a i n l y violate, a n d seriously too, the
v e r y s p i r i t o f his t h e o r y o f agent responsibility.
T o conclude m y discussion o f A r i s t o t l e ' s t h e o r y o f r e s p o n s i b i
l i t y for actions, then. W e s h o u l d , w i t h A r i s t o t l e , n o t t h i n k we need
a concept o f m o r a l responsibility, a r e s p o n s i b i l i t y b e l o n g i n g e x p l i
c i t l y and o n l y to n o r m a l a d u l t h u m a n b e i n g s . R e c o g n i z i n g a n d
45
4 5
Perhaps some w i l l resist, and insist there is an important difference in what
responsibility is for adults, i n all their actions and not only i n the morally good or
bad ones, because they bring to bear ideas about God as judge and human beings as
sinners (something that animals and small children cannot be): our responsibility is
ultimately to God. However, we do not need such ideas in order to make good sense
of ourselves and our place in the natural and social worlds, or to live good human
lives. Aristotle's moral theory, in any event, is constructed on the assumption that
we do not need such ideas in order to understand us humans as agents or to frame an
adequate conception of our responsibility for what we do. I t is certainly unwarran
ted, as I have argued, to seek to find room w i t h i n his theory for a distinction between
two sorts of praise, and a higher sort of responsibility corresponding to one of those.
306 John M. Cooper
IX
4 6
I do not mean to say that Aristotle's theory is complete as it stands; I have my
self noted, mostly in footnotes, numerous points at which his theory, as he himself
states it, has gaps or is inexplicit; a complete theory would take explicit notice of
these. I t may need further significant elaboration, i n order to take account of sub
tleties concerning the effects of consent both when physically forced and when not,
or cases of bribes, or special cases of duress when an agent has psychological addic
tions, and so on. I think it can be made to handle these complications quite well, but
I do not go into them here.
Aristotelian Responsibility 307
tuous or v i c i o u s actions a n d activities f r o m a decision (irpoaipeois),
occasion b y occasion, to do so. Since a decision o f ours causes each
o f these actions, they are a l l ' u p to u s ' : as he has j u s t argued ( i n
47
4 7
A t 8—11 he claims, more expansively, that when 'acting is fine [i.e. virtuous]
b
and up to us, not acting is shameful [i.e. vicious] and up to us', and when 'not acting
is fine and up to us, acting is shameful and up to us'. This does not say, and Aris
totle should not be taken to mean, that whenever a virtuous person does a virtuous
act it was open to them (they were free) not to do it (i.e. free to do the vicious act of
omission instead), and whenever a vicious person acts viciously it was open to them
(they were free) to act virtuously. He only says that when, i n some circumstance, a
given act would be virtuous or vicious, then whichever of the two, i f either, a person
decides to do, they do voluntarily: that is, he only means that whatever you decide
to do i n the given circumstances w i l l be up to you, because it was caused by your de
cision. (See also above, n. 12.) Aristotle does not take a stand, one way or the other,
on whether to act voluntarily requires being free at the time to act otherwise than
one does. I n fact, he presumably thinks a truly virtuous person's character makes it
the case that he or she cannot act otherwise than the virtuous ways they decide to act
on each occasion, and likewise the vicious (cf. 11 i4 io—21).
a
3o8 John M. Cooper
1 1 i 4 2 5 ) A r i s t o t l e reinforces the i n i t i a l a r g u m e n t s u m m a r i z e d
b
4 8
Hence, Aristotle approves the law's imposing double penalties i n the similar
case of doing something harmful or shameful while ignorant of that fact, due to be
ing drunk or in a fury: one for doing the bad thing, another for doing it i n ignorance.
4 9
I summarize here a view, for which I argue i n Pursuits of Wisdom: Six Ways of
Life in Ancient Philosophy from Socrates to Plotinus (Princeton, 2012), ch. 3, sects.
3.4—3.8, about the relationship, for Aristotle, between habituation in right feeling
and action, and full virtue. I argue there that Aristotle requires for full virtue com
plete practical knowledge of the human good.
Aristotelian Responsibility 309
Princeton University
312 John M. Cooper
BIBLIOGRAPHY
CASEY PERIN
H e r e I argue t h a t these t w o r i v a l i n t e r p r e t a t i o n s c o n s t i t u t e an i n
t e r p r e t a t i v e d i l e m m a : n e i t h e r i n t e r p r e t a t i o n is adequate a n d there
is n o t h i r d o p t i o n . Arcesilaus e i t h e r d i d o r d i d n o t have p h i l o s o
p h i c a l v i e w s . I f he d i d , as the d o g m a t i c i n t e r p r e t a t i o n claims, t h e n
he is i n c o n s i s t e n t a n d there is n o clear w a y to rescue h i m f r o m t h i s
inconsistency. I f Arcesilaus d i d n o t have p h i l o s o p h i c a l v i e w s , t h e n
the practice o f u n i v e r s a l suspension o f j u d g e m e n t i n w h i c h , o n the
dialectical i n t e r p r e t a t i o n , his s c e p t i c i s m is s u p p o s e d to consist is
i n e x p l i c a b l e . T h e u p s h o t is t h a t we have n o t y e t m a n a g e d to make
sense o f A r c e s i l a u s as a p h i l o s o p h e r .
T h i s d i s c o u r a g i n g c o n c l u s i o n is n o t one we can resist b y read
i n g m o r e c a r e f u l l y e i t h e r w h a t Arcesilaus w r o t e (for i t appears he
w r o t e n o t h i n g ) or w h a t C i c e r o a n d others i n a n t i q u i t y w r o t e a b o u t
h i m . T h e task o f m a k i n g sense o f A r c e s i l a u s is n o t i n t e r p r e t a t i v e
b u t s t r i c t l y p h i l o s o p h i c a l . T h i s task comes i n t w o parts. F i r s t , we
m u s t f i n d a place i n l o g i c a l space for A r c e s i l a u s t o occupy. Second,
3
For versions of the dogmatic interpretation see D. Sedley, ' T h e Motivation of
Greek Skepticism', i n M . Burnyeat (ed.), The Skeptical Tradition (Berkeley and
Los Angeles, 1983), 9—29 at 11—16; Long and Sedley, The Hellenistic Philosophers, i .
447; R. J. Hankinson, The Sceptics (London, 1995), 85—6; and Schofield, Academic
Epistemology', 326—34. For versions of the dialectical interpretation see P. Couissin,
'The Stoicism of the N e w Academy', i n Burnyeat (ed.), The Skeptical Tradition,
31—63 at 32—41; G. Striker, 'Sceptical Strategies', i n ead., Essays on Hellenistic
Epistemology and Ethics (Cambridge, 1996), 92—115 at 99—104; and H . Thorsrud,
Arcesilaus and Carneades', i n R. Bett (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Ancient
Scepticism (Cambridge, 2010), 58—80 at 58—70. T h e interpretations of Arcesilaus
offered by M . Frede i n ' T h e Sceptic's T w o Kinds of Assent and the Question of
the Possibility of Knowledge' ['Two Kinds of Assent'], i n M . Burnyeat and M .
Frede (eds.), The Original Sceptics: A Controversy (Indianapolis, 1997), 127—51,
and J. Cooper, Arcesilaus: Socratic and Skeptic' ['Arcesilaus'], in i d . , Knowledge,
Nature, and the Good: Essays on Ancient Philosophy (Princeton, 2004), 81—103, a r e
1. T h e dogmatic i n t e r p r e t a t i o n
( N K ) N o t h i n g can be k n o w n
I f to believe s o m e t h i n g is to assent to i t , t h e n U S J — t h e p r i n c i p l e o f
u n i v e r s a l suspension o f j u d g e m e n t — i s equivalent to the c l a i m that
one o u g h t n o t to believe a n y t h i n g at all. I n the same passage Cicero
tells us that Arcesilaus also claims that
( A S ) One o u g h t to assent to a p r o p o s i t i o n p o n l y i f b y d o i n g so
one comes n o t m e r e l y to believe, b u t also to know, that p. 5
distinction between two kinds of assent, 'the sceptic' cannot assent to USJ without
thereby violating it. But he is mistaken, or perhaps simply careless, i n characterizing
the violation of USJ as a contradiction.
8
Schofield, 'Academic Epistemology', 331.
9
This is a case of epistemic irrationality w i t h the following special feature. I n ge
neral someone subject to a conflict between two attitudes A and B can resolve that
conflict in two ways: he can eliminate either A or B. But i n Arcesilaus' case the eli
mination of the one conflicting attitude requires the elimination of the other. As a
result, Arcesilaus can resolve the conflict between attitudes to which he is subject
only by eliminating both attitudes. Let A be the belief that USJ, and let B be the
belief that one ought not to believe that USJ. Arcesilaus has belief B solely because
he has belief A: A is the sole grounds or basis for B. Consequently, if Arcesilaus eli
minates A, he thereby eliminates B. Moreover, A is the basis for B because A entails
B by universal instantiation. T o believe USJ is to believe that for any proposition^),
one ought not to believe that^>. T h e content of this belief entails the content of B:
that one ought not to believe that USJ. So the elimination of B requires on pain of
inconsistency the elimination of A.
3i8 Casey Perin
1 1
T h o u g h this is not nearly as clear in Frede's discussion as one would like it
to be. But at one point ( ' T w o Kinds of Assent', 135) Frede contrasts having the
view that p i n his minimal sense w i t h 'thinking that it is the case that p or that it
is true that^>', where this, i n turn, seems to be tantamount to believing that p is
true.
1 3
See ' T w o Kinds of Assent', 135—6, where Frede talks of 'the further thought
that it is true that^>' and gives the example of the craftsman who, i n practising his
craft, relies on his implicit expert beliefs.
1 3
Frede, ' T w o Kinds of Assent', 132—5.
1 4
See e.g. B. Williams, 'Deciding to Believe', i n i d . , Problems of the Self (Cam
bridge, 1973), 136-51 at 137.
320 Casey Perin
He writes:
It might be the case that action does not require that one take the impres
sion one is acting on to be true. I t might be the case that action does not,
in addition to the impression that p, require a positive act of assent or the
further thought that i t is true that£. A l l that may be needed is one's acqui
escence i n the impression, and all this may amount to is that i n the series of
impressions one has reached an impression which produces an action rather
than the kind of disquiet which would make one go on to consider the mat
ter further t i l l one reached an impression which one no longer resists and
which produces action. Indeed, one may have the view that£ without even
entertaining the thought that£, let alone the further thought that£ is true.
Things may have left us w i t h the impression that£, and we may act on that
view, without being aware of i t . 1 6
17
For additional criticisms of Frede see G. Fine, 'Sceptical Dogmata: Outlines
of Pyrrhonism I 13', Methexis, 13 (2000), 81—105 82—8. Some of my criticisms of
a t
Frede are similar to some of Fine's, and I have benefited greatly from reading her
discussion.
18
R. Bett, 'Carneades' Distinction between Assent and Approval', Monist, 73
(1990), 3—20 at 10—15.
322 Casey Perin
T r e a t i n g a p r o p o s i t i o n as true is s o m e t h i n g we do a n d do for a
purpose. W e can treat a p r o p o s i t i o n as true i n order to c o n d u c t an
e x p e r i m e n t ( h y p o t h e s i s ) , or to make an a r g u m e n t o r to f o r m an i n
t e n t i o n ( a s s u m p t i o n ) , o r to e n t e r t a i n a c h i l d ( i m a g i n a t i o n ) . So to
e x p l a i n w h y someone treats a c e r t a i n p r o p o s i t i o n as t r u e , we m u s t
a t t r i b u t e to t h a t p e r s o n some a i m o r goal he p u r s u e s i n t r e a t i n g t h a t
p r o p o s i t i o n as t r u e . B u t i f we a t t r i b u t e an a i m o r goal t o someone,
we t h e r e b y a t t r i b u t e a desire t o h i m : h a v i n g an a i m o r goal j u s t is,
at least i n the p r i m a r y cases, h a v i n g a d e s i r e . 20
M o r e o v e r , to ex
p l a i n w h y someone p u r s u e s the satisfaction o f this desire b y t r e a t i n g
a c e r t a i n p r o p o s i t i o n as t r u e , we m u s t a t t r i b u t e t o t h a t p e r s o n the
b e l i e f t h a t he can satisfy t h i s desire b y t r e a t i n g a c e r t a i n p r o p o s i
t i o n as t r u e , a n d the beliefs o n w h i c h t h i s b e l i e f depends. H e n c e , i f
A r c e s i l a u s treats U S J o r any o t h e r p r o p o s i t i o n as t r u e , his d o i n g so
is i n t e l l i g i b l e o n l y i n v i e w o f the fact t h a t he has c e r t a i n b e l i e f s — t h a t
is, o n l y i n v i e w o f the fact t h a t he believes c e r t a i n p r o p o s i t i o n s to be
t r u e r a t h e r t h a n m e r e l y treats t h e m as t r u e . N o w i f A r c e s i l a u s be
lieves any p r o p o s i t i o n to be t r u e , he violates U S J . B u t i f he does n o t
believe any p r o p o s i t i o n to be t r u e , a n d so satisfies U S J , we cannot
e x p l a i n w h y he treats U S J or any o t h e r p r o p o s i t i o n as t r u e r a t h e r
t h a n believes i t to be t r u e . 2 1
A dogmatic i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of Arcesilaus
can rescue h i m f r o m i n c o n s i s t e n c y o n l y b y m a k i n g h i m a puzzle to
3 0
For a defence of this claim see M . Smith, The Moral Problem (Oxford, 1994),
116—25. There are details I pass over here. I t might be the case that having any of
a number of other attitudes—e.g. hope, wish, intention—constitutes having a goal.
But i f this is so, i t is plausible to think that having any of these attitudes requires
having a desire as well (perhaps each of these attitudes consists, in part, of a de
sire).
3 1
I have argued here that (1) if we do not attribute any beliefs to Arcesilaus, then
we cannot explain why he treats U S J or any other proposition as true rather than
believes i t to be true. B u t one might also argue, more ambitiously, that (2) if we do
not attribute any beliefs to Arcesilaus, then we cannot even coherently think of h i m
as treating U S J or any other proposition as true rather than believing i t to be true.
The argument for (2) would purport to show that we cannot even attribute the atti
tude of treating a proposition to be true to someone without also attributing beliefs
to h i m . T h e argument might take as its starting-point Paul Boghossian's claim (in
' T h e Normativity of Content', Philosophical Issues, 13 (2003), 31—45 at 41—3) that
there is an asymmetric dependence of our grasp of the concept of other proposi-
tional attitudes such as desire on our grasp of the concept of belief. According to
Boghossian, we cannot coherently think of someone as desiring something without
also thinking of h i m as believing something. A n d this because to think of someone as
desiring something involves thinking of h i m as wanting things to be different from
the way they are believed by h i m to be. I f our concept of desire is dependent i n this
way on our concept of belief, and i f attributing the attitude of treating a proposition
as true to someone requires attributing a desire to h i m , then we cannot coherently
think of someone treating a proposition as true without also thinking of h i m as be
lieving certain propositions to be true.
324 Casey Perin
us. B u t an i n t e r p r e t a t i o n a c c o r d i n g to w h i c h Arcesilaus is i n e x p l i c
able is as inadequate as one a c c o r d i n g to w h i c h he is inconsistent.
So, to s u m u p this p a r t o f the paper, i t is possible to have a v i e w
i n a sense that does n o t violate U S J o n l y i f there is some a t t i t u d e
that is (a) s o m e t h i n g less t h a n b e l i e v i n g a p r o p o s i t i o n to be true,
b u t (b) s o m e t h i n g m o r e t h a n indifference to the t r u t h o f that p r o
p o s i t i o n , a n d (c) n o t a m a t t e r o f m e r e l y t r e a t i n g a p r o p o s i t i o n as true
(whether for p r a c t i c a l or for theoretical purposes). T h e p r o b l e m for
the dogmatic i n t e r p r e t a t i o n o f Arcesilaus is that there s i m p l y does
n o t seem to be any a t t i t u d e o f this sort. I f there is n o t , t h e n o n the
dogmatic i n t e r p r e t a t i o n Arcesilaus is inconsistent i n the sense that
he has a belief (and so a v i e w ) that, as a result o f b e l i e v i n g (and so
h a v i n g the v i e w ) that one o u g h t n o t to have any beliefs (and so any
views), he believes he o u g h t n o t to have. T h e v i e w that one o u g h t to
suspend j u d g e m e n t about e v e r y t h i n g j u s t is the v i e w that one o u g h t
n o t to have any views at all. A n d i t is n o t possible to h o l d this v i e w
c o n s i s t e n t l y — i t is n o t possible to h o l d i t w i t h o u t also b e l i e v i n g that
one o u g h t n o t to h o l d i t . So Arcesilaus can a v o i d inconsistency o f
this k i n d o n l y i f he suspends j u d g e m e n t about U S J and, as a result,
lacks the v i e w that one o u g h t to suspend j u d g e m e n t about every
thing.
2. T h e dialectical i n t e r p r e t a t i o n
n a r y p o i n t s are w o r t h m a k i n g .
F i r s t , the a t t i t u d e o f u n i v e r s a l suspension o f j u d g e m e n t that,
according to the dialectical i n t e r p r e t a t i o n , Arcesilaus adopts can
be taken to have either a w i d e or a n a r r o w scope. I n the f o r m e r
case the dialectical i n t e r p r e t a t i o n gives us an Arcesilaus w h o
suspends j u d g e m e n t about a l l matters, p h i l o s o p h i c a l and n o n -
p h i l o s o p h i c a l alike, a n d has no views or beliefs o f any sort. I n the
latter case Arcesilaus suspends j u d g e m e n t about a l l p h i l o s o p h i c a l
matters—his suspension o f j u d g e m e n t is u n i v e r s a l w i t h respect
to those m a t t e r s — b u t he has views or beliefs about a variety o f
n o n - p h i l o s o p h i c a l matters. Regardless o f w h e t h e r the dialectical
i n t e r p r e t a t i o n assigns a w i d e or a n a r r o w scope to Arcesilaus' sus
p e n s i o n o f j u d g e m e n t , however, o n that i n t e r p r e t a t i o n Arcesilaus
suspends j u d g e m e n t about U S J — a p h i l o s o p h i c a l thesis—and
thereby avoids the inconsistency o f w h i c h he is g u i l t y o n the d o g
matic interpretation.
Second, suspension o f j u d g e m e n t consists i n a k i n d o f failure to
believe that requires a special sort o f e x p l a n a t i o n . Suppose that I
suspend j u d g e m e n t (as, i n fact, I do) about w h e t h e r the n u m b e r o f
stars is even or o d d . M y d o i n g so is i n p a r t a m a t t e r o f m y l a c k i n g
c e r t a i n beliefs, namely, the belief that the n u m b e r o f stars is even
a n d the belief that the n u m b e r o f stars is o d d . B u t the fact that I lack
these t w o beliefs is n o t b y itself sufficient for me to suspend j u d g e
m e n t about w h e t h e r the n u m b e r o f stars is even or o d d . I m u s t also
recognize these t w o beliefs, or t h e i r contents, as candidates for be
lief, that is, as things I c o u l d come to believe. I n general, I suspend
j u d g e m e n t about whether^) is the case o n l y i f I believe neither^) n o r
its n e g a t i o n despite the fact that I recognize p, and so its n e g a t i o n ,
as candidates for belief. T h a t is w h y i t makes n o sense to t h i n k o f
Arcesilaus as suspending j u d g e m e n t about whether, for example,
O s w a l d acted alone i n k i l l i n g K e n n e d y . Arcesilaus d i d n o t recog
nize, a n d c o u l d n o t have recognized, either the p r o p o s i t i o n that Os
w a l d acted alone i n k i l l i n g K e n n e d y or its n e g a t i o n as candidates for
belief. So w h i l e he believed n e i t h e r that O s w a l d d i d n o r that he d i d
not act alone i n k i l l i n g K e n n e d y , Arcesilaus d i d n o t suspend j u d g e -
33
Texts in which not the view expressed by USJ, but universal suspension of
judgement itself, is attributed to Arcesilaus include D . L . 4. 28 and 4. 32; Plut. Adv.
Col. 1120 c and 1122c (where Arcesilaus and the Academics around h i m are simply
called 'those who suspend judgement about everything', ol Trepl Travraw eir(-)(ovTe<;);
and S.E. PH 1. 232.
326 Casey Perin
to r e c o m m e n d suspension o f j u d g e m e n t , however, a n d s o m e t h i n g
m o r e to b r i n g i t about i n either oneself or others. Cicero tells us that
Arcesilaus b r o u g h t about suspension of j u d g e m e n t i n others, a n d so
p r e s u m a b l y i n himself, w h e n , as the result o f his arguments, 'rea
sons o f equal w e i g h t were f o u n d o n opposite sides o f the same sub
j e c t ' ( ' i n eadem re paria c o n t r a r i i s i n p a r t i b u s m o m e n t a r a t i o n u m
i n v e n i r e n t u r ' ) . A c c o r d i n g to Cicero here, Arcesilaus induces sus
25
33
I t is plausible that a full explanation of why Arcesilaus (or anyone else) suspends
judgement about whether^) is the case requires attributing to h i m additional beliefs
as well. These would include beliefs about what he does or does not know, beliefs
about what sorts of considerations are or are not relevant to the question whether p
is the case, and beliefs about what constitutes a sufficient reason to believe either^)
or its negation.
3 4
On the dialectical interpretation, obviously, Arcesilaus cannot recommend sus
pension of judgement on the basis of philosophical beliefs he holds about knowledge
and assent. For on this interpretation he holds no beliefs of this sort (perhaps be
cause he holds no beliefs at all). So an important question is: how, or on what basis,
and in what sense, could Arcesilaus, on the dialectical interpretation, treat suspen
sion of judgement as something one ought, i n some sense of 'ought', to do? I take up
this question below i n connection w i t h the narrow-scope version of the dialectical
interpretation since, as I w i l l argue, other considerations give us decisive reason to
reject the wide-scope version of the dialectical interpretation.
35
See also Diogenes Laertius, who reports that Arcesilaus suspends judgement
'on account of the opposition of arguments' (4. 28: hid ra? evavTiorr/Ta? TOJV Xoyaw).
Making Sense of Arcesilaus 327
c o n v i n c i n g that person that the reasons for b e l i e v i n g that p (for
some value of p) neither o u t w e i g h n o r are o u t w e i g h e d b y the reasons
for b e l i e v i n g its negation. So Cicero's t e s t i m o n y c o n f i r m s w h a t is,
i n any case, r e q u i r e d b y the logic o f r a t i o n a l suspension o f j u d g e
m e n t . Arcesilaus suspends j u d g e m e n t about w h e t h e r p is the case
u n d e r w h a t he believes to be c o n d i t i o n s o f p a r i t y a m o n g c o m p e t
i n g reasons for belief. T h e s e are c o n d i t i o n s i n w h i c h , as he believes,
there is n o t sufficient reason to believe either p or its n e g a t i o n . 26
3 8
Here, as in the context of its narrow-scope version, it might seem tempting
to restrict the suspension of judgement the dialectical interpretation attributes to
Arcesilaus to first-order beliefs. Higher-order beliefs about candidates for belief
would then fall outside its scope. But this is a temptation we should resist as blatantly
ad hoc. Morever, and again, it is plausible to think that attributing suspension of
judgement about something to someone requires attributing various first-order be
liefs to h i m , e.g. beliefs about Oswald and the killing of Kennedy.
Making Sense of Arcesilaus 329
sion is, or can be, a c o g n i t i v e i m p r e s s i o n — t h a t n o i m p r e s s i o n does,
or can, satisfy the Stoic d e f i n i t i o n o f a c o g n i t i v e i m p r e s s i o n . C o n
sequently, Arcesilaus argued, those w h o , like the Stoics, take k n o w
ledge to consist i n assent to a c o g n i t i v e i m p r e s s i o n are c o m m i t t e d
to the c l a i m that n o t h i n g is, or can be, k n o w n . M o r e o v e r , o n the
2 9
3 9
For Arcesilaus' arguments against the existence of cognitive impressions see C.
Perin, Academic Arguments for the Indiscernibility Thesis', Pacific Philosophical
Quarterly, 86 (2005), 493—517.
33Q Casey Perin
3 3
See e.g. Arthur Danto's claim in The Transfiguration of the Commonplace (Cam
bridge, Mass., 1981), 54, that philosophy 'has a special subject matter' that consists
in a 'whole cycle of internally related topics'.
34
Relevant here is Frede's attempt i n M . Frede, ' T h e Sceptic's Beliefs', i n
Burnyeat and Frede (eds.), The Original Sceptics, 1—24 at 9—14, to describe the kind
of belief—dogmatic philosophical belief—the Pyrrhonian sceptic (as described by
Sextus Empiricus in the Outlines of Pyrrhonism) claims to live without. Belief of
this kind, Frede suggests, is distinguished by its content: it is belief not about how
things are but, i n Frede's elusive formulations, about 'how things really are' or 'the
essence of things' or 'the nature of things'. For discussion and criticism of Frede's
view see C. Perin, The Demands of Reason: An Essay on Pyrrhonian Scepticism
(Oxford, 2010), 62—75. Cooper, Arcesilaus', 100.
35
3 6
Ibid. 101.
334 Casey Perin
those candidates for philosophical belief that Arcesilaus recognizes as candidates for
belief. Hence, it is only a class of candidates for philosophical belief.
Making Sense of Arcesilaus 337
doxastic m e r i t o f the candidates for belief i n K is j u s t as u n i v e r
sal a n d systematic as his suspension o f j u d g e m e n t w i t h respect to
K. B u t e x p l a i n i n g the latter b y appeal to the f o r m e r j u s t raises the
q u e s t i o n w h y i t is that Arcesilaus believes about each candidate for
belief i n K t h a t there is insufficient reason to believe either i t or its
n e g a t i o n . A n d we can answer this q u e s t i o n o n l y b y appeal to some
t h i n g else the candidates for belief i n K have i n c o m m o n .
Y e t w h a t the candidates for belief i n K have i n c o m m o n is, before
all else, t h a t each is a candidate for philosophical belief. A g a i n , u n
less i t is j u s t a coincidence that Arcesilaus' suspension of j u d g e m e n t
is u n i v e r s a l w i t h respect to K, t h a t feature o f a candidate for belief
t h a t qualifies i t for i n c l u s i o n i n K m u s t also be the feature t h a t ex
plains, u l t i m a t e l y , w h y Arcesilaus suspends j u d g e m e n t about i t . K
is supposed to be a class o f candidates for p h i l o s o p h i c a l belief. T h e
fact that the m e m b e r s o f K are candidates for belief o f this sort ex
plains (a) w h y Arcesilaus believes about each o f t h e m t h a t there is
insufficient reason to believe i t , and so (b) w h y he suspends j u d g e
m e n t about all o f t h e m . B u t i f Arcesilaus h i m s e l f does n o t e m p l o y
a d i s t i n c t i o n between the p h i l o s o p h i c a l a n d the n o n - p h i l o s o p h i c a l ,
a n d so does n o t recognize K as a class o f candidates for p h i l o s o p h i
cal belief, t h e n he cannot e x p l a i n , a n d so cannot u n d e r s t a n d , w h y
his suspension o f j u d g e m e n t is u n i v e r s a l w i t h respect to this class
o f candidates for belief. Arcesilaus recognizes each m e m b e r o f K
as a candidate for belief, a n d he suspends j u d g e m e n t about i t , b u t
he cannot e x p l a i n w h y he does so. Arcesilaus cannot see w h a t the
narrow-scope v e r s i o n o f the dialectical i n t e r p r e t a t i o n claims to see,
namely, t h a t he suspends j u d g e m e n t about a candidate for belief
i n this class because i t is a candidate for philosophical belief. A s a
result, Arcesilaus is b l i n d to the g r o u n d s for his o w n suspension
o f j u d g e m e n t . So, i f the narrow-scope v e r s i o n o f the dialectical i n
t e r p r e t a t i o n does n o t a t t r i b u t e to Arcesilaus a d i s t i n c t i o n between
the p h i l o s o p h i c a l a n d the n o n - p h i l o s o p h i c a l , i t renders his suspen
sion o f j u d g e m e n t , a n d so his scepticism, explicable to us o n l y b y
r e n d e r i n g i t inexplicable to him. B u t an i n t e r p r e t a t i o n t h a t makes
Arcesilaus a m y s t e r y to h i m s e l f is as inadequate as one that makes
h i m a m y s t e r y to us.
338 Casey Perin
3. C o n c l u s i o n
BIBLIOGRAPHY
A D i s c u s s i o n o f M i c h a i l Peramatzis,
Priority in Aristotle's Metaphysics 1
MARKO MALINK
P R I O R I T Y , for A r i s t o t l e , i s s a i d i n m a n y ways. A t h i n g m a y b e p r i o r
to another i n t i m e , i n d e f i n i t i o n , i n b e i n g , and i n a n u m b e r o f other
ways. F o r example, A r i s t o t l e holds that substances are p r i o r i n de
f i n i t i o n a n d i n b e i n g to non-substances, that actuality is p r i o r i n
d e f i n i t i o n a n d i n b e i n g to potentiality, and that forms are p r i o r i n
d e f i n i t i o n to m a t e r i a l c o m p o u n d s . S u c h claims p l a y a central role
i n A r i s t o t l e ' s t h o u g h t . E x a m i n i n g these claims a n d the various c o n
cepts o f p r i o r i t y e m p l o y e d i n t h e m is v i t a l to an u n d e r s t a n d i n g o f his
metaphysics. M o r e o v e r , such an e x a m i n a t i o n is relevant to recent
discussions o f o n t o l o g i c a l dependence a n d g r o u n d i n g i n c o n t e m
p o r a r y metaphysics—discussions for w h i c h A r i s t o t l e ' s t r e a t m e n t o f
p r i o r i t y i n b e i n g has been an i m p o r t a n t source o f i n s p i r a t i o n . 2
1. T h e conceptual f r a m e w o r k
3
See Metaph. Z 7, i 0 3 2 i - 2 ; Z 10, I 0 3 5 i 4 - i 6 , I035 32.
b b b
4
Peramatzis's use of the phrase 'way of being' is somewhat unusual (3—5). I t is
different from the sense i n which, for example, being i n actuality and being in po
tentiality are often referred to as 'ways of being'. Nor does his use coincide w i t h the
Essence and Being 343
2. P r i o r i t y i n d e f i n i t i o n
use established by M . Frede, according to which humans and horses share the same
way of being, namely, that of natural substances, as opposed to that of, for example,
numbers; see M . Frede, Essays in Ancient Philosophy (Minneapolis, 1987), 85. For
Peramatzis, humans and horses have different ways of being, since they have differ
ent essences.
5
Peramatzis, 5, 158, and 199—200. See Metaph. Z 6, I 0 3 i n — i 4 ; Z n , 1037^3—
b
b
7; cf. also M . Burnyeat et al., Notes on Book Zeta of Aristotle's Metaphysics (Oxford,
1979), 97; M . Frede and G. Patzig (ed., trans., and comm.), Aristoteles: Metaphysik
Z [Z], 2 vols. (Munich, 1988), ii. 87; M . Burnyeat, A Map of Metaphysics Zeta (Pitt
sburgh, 2001), 26—7.
344 Marko Malink
Those parts that are material, and into which a thing is divided as into its
matter, are posterior; but those that are parts of the account [Aoyoy] and
of the substance which accords w i t h the account, are prior—some or all of
them. Now, since the soul of animals (for this is the substance of the ani
mate) is the substance which accords w i t h the account, i.e. the form and
what-it-is-to-be such a body (at least, i f each part is properly defined, i t
cannot be defined without its function, which i t cannot have without sense
perception), i t follows that the parts of the soul are prior—some or all of
them—to the whole compound animal, and similarly i n the particular cases,
while the body and its parts are posterior to this substance. (Metaph. Z 10,
i°35 n-2i)
b
7
Peramatzis presents the definitional priority of form over matter as a general
thesis applicable to all hylomorphic compounds. However, he does not explain
whether and how the thesis applies to artefacts such as a bronze statue of Socrates.
I t is reasonable to think that, i n contrast to the case of animals, the matter of
such a statue (that is, a particular lump of bronze) is identifiable and definable
independently of the statue's form; see J. L . A c k r i l l , 'Aristotle's Definitions of
Psuche\ Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, 73 (1972—3), 119—33 124—6; C.
a t
Frey, 'Organic U n i t y and the Matter of M a n ' , Oxford Studies in Ancient Philosophy,
32 (2007), 167—204 at 167 and 200. By contrast, Frede and Patzig argue that even
the matter of artefacts is not identifiable independently of the artefact's form; see
Frede and Patzig, Z, ii. 46—9.
Essence and Being 345
8
Frede and Patzig, Z, ii. 212; cf. M . Frede, 'The Definition of Sensible Sub
stance in Metaphysics Z ['Sensible Substance'], i n D. Devereux and P. Pellegrin
(eds.), Biologie, logique et metaphysique chez Aristote (Paris, 1990), 113—29 at 117—
21. Similarly also W. Mesch, 'Die Teile der Definition (Z 10— 11)', i n C. Rapp (ed.),
Aristoteles: Metaphysik. Die Substanzbiicher (Z, H, ®) (Berlin, 1996), 135—56 at 149—
51; M . V. Wedin, Aristotle's Theory of Substance: The Categories and Metaphysics
Zeta [Theory of Substance] (Oxford, 2000), 327—41.
9
M . L . Gill, Aristotle on Substance: The Paradox of Unity [Paradox] (Princeton,
1989), 134—6; R. Heinaman, 'Frede and Patzig on Definition in Metaphysics Z. 10
and 11' ['Definition'], Phronesis, 42 (1997), 283—98 at 283—4 and 292—3.
10
Metaph. Z 5, 1031*11-12; Top. 7. 5, 154*31-2. Cf. Metaph. Z 4, 1030*6-7,
i030 5-7; H 1, 1042*17-21.
b
Essence and Being 347
m e n t i o n o n l y its f o r m , b u t n o t its m a t t e r (cf. Z I I , i 0 3 7 2 6 - 9 ) . a
We speak both ways when we say what a bronze circle is, saying that the
matter is bronze and the form is such-and-such a shape, that being the
genus under which i t falls. So a bronze circle has matter i n its account [ev
ra Aoyo;]. (Metaph. Z 7, i033 2-5) a
o f d e f i n i t i o n o f n a t u r a l c o m p o u n d s , b u t n o t the d e f i n i t i o n o f t h e i r
forms.
Peramatzis agrees t h a t c o m p o u n d s have definitions t h a t m e n t i o n
b o t h t h e i r m a t t e r a n d t h e i r f o r m . B u t he denies t h a t this is the
1 2
1 3
See pp. 11, 168—9, 7 8 , 190, and 196—8; cf. also 32—7. Peramatzis appeals to
:
these definitions in order to explain Aristotle's claim i n Z 10 that 'some or all parts of
the form' are prior to matter and compounds (i035 4—6, 13—14, 18—19). T h i s claim
b
seems to imply that it is possible that some but not all parts of a form are prior to
the corresponding matter and compound. Peramatzis argues that this is the case i n
definitions of compounds that mention both their matter and their form (195—7, 7 7 2
n. 9), on the grounds that in these definitions ' i t is not the whole denning essence but
only a part of it—the hylomorphic form . . .—which is prior to matter and (universal)
compound' (196). The matter that is part of what Peramatzis calls the compound's
'defining essence' is not prior to the compound. T h i s explains why only some of
348 Marko Malink
t a i n t y p e o f m a t t e r is p a r t o f the c o m p o u n d , s i m i l a r l y m a t t e r m u s t
be p a r t o f the f o r m o f t h i s c o m p o u n d ' (41). A g a i n , t h i s i n t e r p r e t a
t i o n is p r o b l e m a t i c . T h e passage states t h a t b o t h m a t t e r and form
are m e n t i o n e d i n the a c c o u n t (logos) o f a c o m p o u n d such as a b r o n z e
circle. 14
B u t t h i s does n o t i m p l y t h a t m a t t e r is p a r t o f the f o r m or
m e n t i o n e d i n the d e f i n i t i o n o f the f o r m . F o r the a c c o u n t i n q u e s t i o n
is o n l y a d e f i n i t i o n o f the secondary k i n d . H e n c e the definiens as a
w h o l e does n o t s i g n i f y the c o m p o u n d ' s f o r m , a n d n o t every i t e m
m e n t i o n e d i n the definiens is p a r t o f the form. 1 5
the items mentioned i n the definition are prior to the compound. However, it does
not explain why only some parts of the form are prior to it. The passage from Z 10 is
clearly concerned w i t h parts of the form (Aristotle identifies them as parts of the soul
at I035 i8—19), but not w i t h parts of a definition i n which both matter and form are
b
compounds (as opposed to forms), his argument presupposes that their interpreta
tion is based on the 'deeper assumption . . . that definition is only of the form and
of the universal i n that what does the denning is, strictly speaking, universal form
alone' (93—4). However, G i l l and Heinaman (see n. 9 above) do not accept this as
sumption; they hold that there are definitions, albeit of a secondary kind, in which
it is not universal form alone that does the denning. Thus, Peramatzis's argument is
not effective against them.
14
See e.g. G i l l , Paradox, 122; Heinaman, 'Definition', 292; D. Charles, A r i s
totle's Psychological Theory' ['Psychological T h e o r y ' ] , Proceedings of the Boston
Area Colloquium in Ancient Philosophy, 24 (2008), 1—29 at 7.
Another piece of evidence adduced by Peramatzis is Aristotle's statement ' i t be
15
longs to the natural philosopher to study those aspects of the soul that are not without
matter' (Metaph. E 1, io26 5—6). The soul is a form and some aspects or parts of it
a
'are not without matter'. Peramatzis takes this to imply that 'a natural form . . . is
unambiguously thought essentially to include material and change-related features',
and thereby to confirm 'the thesis of essential enmatterment not only for compounds
but also for natural forms' (101). As before, this interpretation is controversial. The
Essence and Being 349
L e t us consider one last piece o f evidence adduced b y Peramatzis
i n s u p p o r t o f his view. I t is f r o m A r i s t o t l e ' s discussion i n De anima
i . i o n h o w to define psychological states such as anger:
It is clear that the affections of the soul are enmattered accounts [Xoyoi ev-
vXoi]. Hence their definitions [ol opoi] w i l l be of the following form: for
instance, being angry is a particular movement of a body of such-and-such
a kind, or part or capacity of such a body, as a result of this thing and for
the sake of such-and-such a goal. . . . T h e natural philosopher and the dia
lectician would define each of these differently, e.g. what anger is. For the
latter would define it as a desire for retaliation or something of the sort, the
former as the boiling of the blood or hot stuff around the heart. Of these,
the natural philosopher gives the matter, the dialectician the form and ac
count. (DA I . I , 403 25- 2)a b
Because definitions (ol opoi) are linguistic items that describe the essence
of the entity defined, i t follows that psychic functions or affections contain
material characteristics, bodily functions or affections, as parts of their very
nature. (106)
passage can plausibly be taken to state that some aspects or parts of the soul must be
realized i n certain kinds of matter, without implying that matter is mentioned in the
definition of (these parts of) the soul or is in some way an essential part of the soul
(see G i l l , Paradox, 115—16 and 131).
3SO Marko Malink
1 6
See Frede, 'Sensible Substance', 115—16.
1 7
Charles, 'Psychological Theory', 4—10.
1 8
V. Caston, 'Commentary on Charles', Proceedings of the Boston Area Colloquium
in Ancient Philosophy, 24 (2008), 30—49. One problem w i t h Charles's interpretation
of De anima 1. 1 is that, i f it were correct, one would expect Aristotle to criticize the
dialectician for giving an incomplete description of the form of anger (since the de
scription does not mention matter). But Aristotle does not level this charge against
the dialectician (403^9— 2). Instead, he criticizes h i m for giving an incomplete ac
b
1 9
Peramatzis does not give a determinate account of the sort of matter that belongs
to the first class of items, although he presents some 'views which gesture towards
the beginnings of a more positive answer' (191, see also 121).
2 0
See e.g. pp. 8-10, 32, 48-9, 77, 118, 129, 137, 143, 192.
352 Marko Malink
3 1
Peramatzis might avoid these problems by denying that those terms refer to
anything at all; see n. 22 below.
3 3
His proposal involves the idea that ' w i t h i n a form's definiens formula, formal as
well as material terms are separately incomplete and fail to refer to any real-world en
tity without each other' (307). For example, i n the definiens formula 'being a rational
soul embodied i n a certain type of organic body', neither the formal term 'being a ra
tional soul' nor the material term 'embodied in a certain type of organic body' refers
to a real-world entity.
Essence and Being 353
3. P r i o r i t y i n b e i n g
Some things are called prior and posterior i n this way, while others are
called so i n nature and substance, those for which i t is possible to be without
other things, but not the latter without them. (Metaph. A 11, i o i 9 i - 4 ) a
34
See e.g. Metaph. Z 7, i 0 3 2 i - 2 ; Z 11, 1037*5 d 1037*28-30.
b a n
35
See Metaph. H 1, 1042*26—31; cf. Gill, Paradox, 35—7; Wedin, Theory of Sub
stance, 173; Peramatzis, 221 and 228. I f forms are universal, they do not depend for
their existence on any specific compound, but only on the existence of some com
pound or other. As Peramatzis points out (228), this latter kind of dependence suf
fices to undermine PIE as a criterion for the primary substancehood of forms.
36
See D. Bostock (trans, and comm.), Aristotle: Metaphysics Books Z and H
[Z&H] (Oxford, 1994), 59.
Essence and Being 355
M o r e o v e r , even i f i t is true that Socrates can exist w i t h o u t any o f
the non-substance attributes he actually has, i t is n o t true that his
non-substance attributes cannot exist w i t h o u t h i m . A t least, i t is
n o t true for a l l o f his non-substance attributes, as m a n y o f t h e m
m a y exist as attributes of, say, C a l l i a s . 27
3 7
O n the other hand, substances are ontologically prior i n this way to individual
non-substances such as Socrates' pallor (that is, to tropes individuated by reference
to the single substance which is their bearer). Socrates can exist without his pal
lor, but his pallor cannot exist without h i m . However, since this kind of ontological
priority does not generalize to universal non-substances, it does not provide a satis
factory account of Aristotle's general thesis that substances are ontologically prior
to non-substances; see Bostock, Z&H, 58—9; Peramatzis, 236—8.
3 8
Frede and Patzig, Z, ii. 21. T h i s priority in being of substances also helps justify
Aristotle's claim that substances are prior in account or definition to non-substances
(see 1028*34-6).
3 9
This does not mean that for every non-substance B there is some substance
A such that A is prior to B i n the manner of P I B . Rather, Peramatzis's view is that
'particular substance, in general, or any particular substance whatsoever makes non-
substance attributes the general kinds of being that they are' (246, see also 248).
Peramatzis admits that 'this notion of ontological primacy is undeniably attenuated'
(246).
356 Marko Malink
man to a boy or a human being to a seed, for the one already has the form
and the other does not. (Metaph. 0 8, i050 4-7) a
A b o y is i n p o t e n t i a l i t y w h a t a m a n is i n actuality. A r i s t o t l e states
that a m a n is p r i o r i n substance to a boy. A s before, i t is n o t easy to
u n d e r s t a n d this as o n t o l o g i c a l p r i o r i t y i n the sense o f P I E ; for a m a n
cannot exist w i t h o u t a b o y h a v i n g existed, n o r can a h u m a n b e i n g
exist w i t h o u t a seed h a v i n g existed. Because o f this, Jonathan Beere
and Peramatzis (285-6) suggest t h a t the k i n d o f p r i o r i t y A r i s t o t l e
has i n m i n d here is P I B . A s Beere p u t s i t , 'there is a n o n - r e c i p r o c a l
dependence a m o n g t h e i r essences (ousiai). W h a t i t is to be a b o y de
pends o n w h a t i t is to be a m a n , b u t n o t vice versa. I f there were no
such t h i n g as w h a t i t is to be a m a n , there w o u l d be n o such t h i n g
as w h a t i t is to be a boy, b u t n o t vice v e r s a . ' 30
o r i t y i n substance' refers to P I B at i o 5 o 4 - 7 b u t n o t at i o 5 o 6 - 7 .
a b 3 2
w i t h w h a t A r i s t o t l e calls p r i o r i t y i n substance at A 1 1 , i o i 9 i - 4 . a 3 4
3 3
A t 26o io-29, 2 6 o 2 9 - 2 6 i i 2 , and 261*13-26, respectively.
b b a
34
See R. M . Dancy, Aristotle and the Priority of Actuality', in S. Knuuttila
(ed.), Reforging the Great Chain of Being: Studies of the History of Modal Theor
ies (Dordrecht, 1980), 73—115 at 88; Beere, Doing and Being, 298.
358 Marko Malink
discussion at 0 8, i o 5 o 4 - 6 , o f h o w a c t u a l i t y is p r i o r i n substance
a b
b
7 ) . T h u s he argues for P I E . G i v e n that the k i n d o f p r i o r i t y es
3 6
36
See W. D. Ross (ed. and comm.), Aristotle's Physics: A Revised Text with
Introduction and Commentary (Oxford, 1936), 444; Panayides, 'Priority', 336.
Although he mentions it at p. 205 n. 2.
3 7
Essence and Being 359
Not all things which are prior i n account [TOJ Xoyw] are also prior i n sub
stance [ry ovaia]. For those things are prior in substance which when sepa
rated from others surpass them i n being, but those are prior i n account out
of whose accounts the accounts of other things are compounded; and these
two properties are not coextensive. For if attributes, such as moving or pale,
do not exist apart from their substances [el yap /xi) eon TO. -naBrj napa -ray
overlay], the pale is prior to the pale man in account, but not in substance.
For i t cannot exist separately, but is always together w i t h the compound
[ov yap evoexeTat e
^ a t
Kexcopio^evov dAA' ael a^a ™ ovvoXq.) eorlv\, and by
the compound I mean the pale man. (Metaph. M 2, i 0 7 7 i - 9 )
b
an essence and definition i n a derivative way (i030 i2—13); see M . J. Loux, Primary
b
The accident is prior i n account [xaid rov Xoyov] to the whole, as for i n
stance musical to musical man; for without the part the account will not be
whole, although it is not possible for the musical to be without there being
someone who is musical. (Metaph. A 11, i o i 8 3 4 - 7 ) b
University of Chicago
4 1
See Panayides, 'Priority', 343—4.
Essence and Being 361
BIBLIOGRAPHY
406*2: 154
A l e x a n d e r of Aphrodisias 4 i 5 i 2 - i 4 : 235
b
3 - 37 4 -
i o
259 - 66 — i o I : n
De generatione animalium
349- 7 - 1 7 : 259 n. 66 717*15-16: 2 4 2
729*20-4: 252 n. 4 8
Anon. 7 3 0 i 9 - 2 3 : 230
b
7 3 2 * 2 5 - 7 3 3 i 6 : 238
b
Aquinas 7 3 4 i o - i 3 : 260
b
74o*4-5: 252
Argyropoulos, John 7 4 o i 8 - 2 4 : 260
b
ad Arist. NE n i 3 7 - 8 , in Tres b
7 4 o 2 5 - 7 4 i * 3 : 230
b
7 4 ° 3 4 - 7 4 i 3 : 260
b a
4 3 . 5: n o n. 13 7 4 3 2 o - 5 : 230
b
Categories 7 4 4 * 3 4 ~ i : 251 n. 46
b
2 3 - 6 : 354
b
744*36: 234
6 3 6 - 8 2 4 : 52 n. 19
a b
7 4 4 i 6 - 2 7 : 230
b
6 * 6 - i o : 54
3
b
7 5 5 * n - i : 237
b
6 i 5 - i 8 : 52 n. 19
b
760*3 i - i : 258
b
6 2 8 - 7 2 i : 52 n. 19
b a
7 7 o i 5 - i 7 : 2 3 1 n. 13, 257 n. 58
b
6 2 8 - 3 5 : 52 n. 19, 54
b
7 7 7 1 6 - 7 7 8 * 9 : 258
b
6 3 4 - S : 52 n. 19
b
778*4: 230
6 3 4 : 5 9 - 6 o n. 34
b
788*14-16: 238 n. 25
7*15-17: 54 De generatione et corruptione
7 3 i - : 57, 57 n. 3 1
a b
9 329*24- 3: 221
b
7 i S f f : 54
b
;
3 2 9 * 2 4 - i : 2 2 1 n. 4 9
b
3 3 0 3 0 - 7 : 197 n. 5
a b
68o i4—21: 2 4 4 - 5
b
3 3 0 3 1 : 2 0 7 n. 26
a
6 8 2 3 2 - 3 5 : 233 n. 14
a b
3 3 0 3 4 : 2 0 7 n. 26
a
6 8 5 i 2 - i 6 : 233 n. 14
b
3 3 i 3 - 6 : 213, 214
a
6 8 5 i 3 - i / : 2 4 0 - 1 n. 29
b
3 3 i 7 : 197 n. 3
a
6 9 i 2 7 - i 5 : 231
a b
3 i i 2 - i 6 : 197
3
a
6 9 i 9 - i 5 : 232
b
3 3 i 2 3 - 2 : 198, 199
a b
6 9 5 i 7 - 2 6 : 232, 2 3 7 n. 24
b
3 3 i 2 - 3 : 198
b
6 9 5 2 2 - 3 : 234
b
3 3 i i 2 — 2 4 : 202
b
6 9 6 l 2 - l 5 : 233
a
3 3 i 2 6 — 3 0 : 197 n. 6, 2 0 4
b
69& 2i—7: 2 4 0
a
3 3 i 3 0 — 6 : 205 n. 21
b
696 24—35: 258
b
3 3 6 3 4 - 3 3 7 6 : 199
b a
I 2 2 2 i 5 : 2 6 5 - 6 n. 1
b
7 o 4 i 2 - i 8 : 225, 2 2 9 , 2 4 9 , 253 n. 50
b
i 2 2 3 i - 9 : 268 n. 6
a
7 o 6 4 - 9 : 187
a
I223 2~3: 269 n. 7
a
7 o 7 6 - i 6 : 247
a
1223*5-9: 113 »• 19
7 o 7 i g - 2 4 : 247
a
1223*5-8: 110 n. 13
- o 7 2 3 - 7 o 8 7 : 247
a a
I223 6: 269 n. 7a
/ o 8 9 - 2 o : 230, 232
a
i 2 2 3 / - 9 : 274, 274 n. 13
a
- o 8 i 1—12: 237
a
I223 8: 269 n. 7a
7 o 8 i 2 - i 4 : 246
a
i 2 2 3 9 - i o : 269 n. 7, 2 7 0 - 1 n. 9
a
morte i 2 2 3 i o - i 3 : 266 n. 3
a
4 6 8 2 o - 3 : 252
a
I 2 2 3 i 5 - i 6 : 277
a
4 6 g 2 3 - i : 2 4 7 n. 39, 252
a b
I 2 2 3 i 6 - i 8 : 267 n. 5
a
6 g 8 i 1—13: 252 n. 48
a
i 2 2 3 i 9 - 2 o : 266 n. 3
a
De partibus animaliuin i 2 2 3 2 i - 2 : 2 6 5 - 6 n. 1
a
4 8 7 i o — 1 1 : 2 9 1 n. 36
a
I 2 2 3 2 i : 272 n. 10
a
640 1 9 - 2 4 : 253 n. 4 9
s
I 2 2 3 2 3 - / : 274
a
6 4 i 2 2 - 3 3 : 257 n. 58
a
I 2 2 3 2 3 ~ 5 : 276
a
6 4 5 9 - n : 230a
i 2 2 3 3 o : 272 n. 10
a
6 4 6 2 9 ~ 3 o : 252 n. 48
a
i 2 2 3 i - 2 : 274 n. 13
b
6 s o 2 ff.: 237
a
I 2 2 3 8 : 274 n. 13
b
6 s 2 3 i : 230
a
I 2 2 3 3 3 : 274 n. 13
b
6ss 23-8: 2 4 1
a
i 2 2 4 i 5 - 2 o : 2 7 9 - 8 0 n. 24
a
6 5 9 6 - i : 237 n. 24
b
3 I 2 2 4 2 0 ~ 3 0 : 268
a
6 6 3 3 4 - i 2 : 245-6
a b
I224 i3—15: 2 7 9 - 8 0 n. 24
b
6 6 3 2 8 - 6 6 4 2 : 238
b a
i 2 2 5 9 - i o : 113 n. 19
a
6 6 4 2 5 - 3 2 : 239
a
I 2 2 5 3 7 - i : 268 n. 6
a b
66s 8: 239
a
i 2 2 5 i - i o : 268 n. 6
b
66s g-26: 2 4 0
a
I 2 2 5 i 1—16: 289 n. 32
b
6 6 g i 2 : 233 n. 14
b
I 2 2 5 i 7 - i 8 : 2 6 5 - 6 n. 1
b
I 2 2 5 i 7 : 272 n. 10
b
6 7 o 2 3 - 7 : 242
b
i 2 2 5 3 5 - 6 : 113 n. 19
b
& 7 7 i 2 - i 8 : 2 4 2 n. 31
a
i 2 2 6 2 / - 8 : 113 n. 19
a
1 2 2 8 * 9 - 1 0 : 2 7 0 - 1 n. 9 1 0 5 0 * 4 - 1 4 : 2 6 1 n. 6 8
Metaphysics 1 0 5 0 * 4 - 7 : 3 5 5 - 6 , 3 5 6 n. 3 0 , 3 5 8 n. 3 5
9 8 8 3 o : 2 0 7 n. 2 6
b
io5o 6-7: b
3 5 6 , 3 5 7 , 3 5 8 n. 3 5
1 0 1 5 * 1 0 - 1 1 : 2 5 7 n. 5 8 i o 5 o i 9 : 356 b
i o i 7 i o — 1 1 : 2 0 7 n. 2 6
b
1075*11-25: 256
ioi8 34-7: 360
a
i o 7 7 i - 9 : 359b
1 0 2 6 * 3 : 3 4 7 n. 1 1 378 i3-26: b
2 5 2 n. 4 8
1 0 2 6 * 5 - 6 : 3 4 8 - 9 n. 15 38i 23-/:
b
2 1 5 n. 4 0
1 0 2 8 * 2 4 - 3 1 : 3 5 9 n. 3 8 3 8 2 * 3 - 4 : 2 1 4 n. 3 9
1028*31-4: 354 382*3i- i: b
215 n . 4 0
1028*33-4: 355 384 24-30: b
214-15
i o 2 8 3 4 - 6 : 3 4 3 , 3 5 5 n. 2 8
b
Nicomacheon Ethics
I029 22-i030*i7:
b
3 5 9 n. 3 9 1 1 0 1 * 1 2 - 1 8 : 2 7 0 - 1 n. 9
1 0 3 0 * 6 - 7 : 3 4 6 n. 1 0 1103*8-10: 1 1 4 n. 2 2
i 0 3 0 5 - 7 : 3 4 6 n. 1 0
b
1 1 0 3 * 2 0 ff.: 1 3 8
I030 i2-i3: b
3 5 9 n. 3 9 1 1 0 5 * 2 8 - 3 2 : 2 7 0 - 1 n. 9
1 0 3 1 * 1 1 - 1 2 : 3 4 6 n. 1 0 1 i o 9 3 0 - 4 : 2 6 6 n. 4
b
I03i n-i4: b
3 4 3 n. 5 n o 9 3 0 - i : 275
b
1 0 3 2 * 2 0 - 5 : 2 3 1 n. 1 3 , 2 5 7 n. 5 8 no9 3o: b
2 7 5 n. 15
i032 i-2: b
3 4 2 n. 3 , 3 5 4 n. 2 4 1 io9 31: b
2 7 9 n. 2 2
I032 n-i4: b
3 4 5 ,351 1 i o 9 3 2 - 4 : 2 7 2 n. 1 0
b
1033*2-5: 347,348 I i o 9 3 2 ~ 3 : 2 7 2 n . 10
b
i o 3 5 i 7 - 3 i : 345
a
no9 34-5: b
2 7 9 n. 2 2
I 0 3 5 4 ~ 6 : 3 4 4 n. 6 , 3 4 7 - 8 n. 1 2
b
1io9 35—1110*1: 2 7 8
b
I 0 3 5 8 : 3 4 4 n. 6
b
1 1 1 0 * 1 : 2 7 9 n. 2 2
i035 io: b
3 4 4 n. 6 1 1 1 0 * 2 - 3 : 2 7 9 n. 2 3
I 0 3 5 n - 2 i : 344 b
1 1 1 0 * 9 : 2 8 5 n. 2 7
io35 i3-i4: b
3 4 7 ~ 8 n. 1 2 1 1 1 0 * 1 5 ft'- : 2
76
I035 i4-i6: b
3 4 2 n. 3 1 1 1 0 * 1 7 — 1 8 : 1 1 0 n. 1 3 , 1 1 3 n. 1 9
I°35 i7-i8: b
344 n. 6 1 1 1 0 * 1 8 : 2 8 3 n. 2 6
I035 i8-ig: b
3 4 7 - 8 n. 1 2 1110*19-26: 285
i035 27-3o: 342 b
1 1 1 0 * 2 4 : 2 8 7 - 8 n. 3 0
io35 32: b
3 4 2 n. 3 1 1 1 0 * 2 5 - 6 : 2 8 9 n. 3 2
i036 22-3o: b
345, 346,347 1 1 1 0 * 2 5 : 3 0 3 n. 4 4
I 0 3 & 2 9 : 3 4 7 n. 1 1
b
1 1 1 0 * 2 6 - 9 : 2 8 7 n. 2 9
io37 5-7: 342 a
II io 3: b
285 n . 27
1 0 3 7 * 5 : 3 5 4 n. 2 4 II io 5: b
285 n . 27
1037*24-5: 3 4 5 ,351 I I I o 18—24: 2 7 2 n . 1 0
b
1037*26-9: 347 1 1 1 1 * 2 2 - 4 : 2 7 6 , 2 7 7 n. 1 8 , 2 7 9 n. 2 2 ,
1 0 3 7 * 2 8 - 3 0 : 3 5 4 n. 2 4 288
i o 3 7 * 3 3 - 7 : 3 4 3 n. 5 b
1 1 1 1 * 2 5 - 6 : 2 6 7 n. 5
1 0 4 2 * 8 : 2 0 7 n. 2 6 1 1 1 1 * 2 6 : 2 9 1 n. 3 6
1 0 4 2 * 1 7 - 2 1 : 3 4 6 n. 1 0 im 4—5:
b
265-6 n. 1
1 0 4 2 * 2 6 - 3 1 : 3 5 4 n. 2 4 i n i 4 : 272 n . 10
b
io42 7—8: b
1 1 0 n. 13 111 i 8 - 9 : b
267 n. 5
io46*36- 2: 260 b
I i i 3 4 - i 4 : 306
b
1048*1-15: 260
1 1 1 3 6 — 1 4 : 1 1 3 , 1 1 3 n. 2 1 , 1 1 4 , 1 2 0 ,
b
1 0 4 9 * 2 3 : 2 1 0 n. 3 2
126, 138
i o 4 9 i o - i 1: 3 5 5 b
ni3 6-7: b
114
ioso*4- 6: 358 b
1113 7—11:118 b
366 Index Locorum
ni3 7—8: 103 ff., 113 n. 21, 114,
b
2 i o i : 189
b
n i 3 2 4 - s : 289 n. 32
b 235*33-4: 160
n i 3 3 i - 3 : 289 n. 32
b 2 3 5 6 - 3 ° : 171
b
I i i 3 3 3 - n i 4 3 : 289 n. 32
b i l 235 6-7: 168
b
1114*3-1 H 4 2 5 : 308 b
235 30-236 27: 154-6, 164
b a
n i 4 3 i — i 6 : 310
a b
235 32-3: 159
b
1 1 3 i i o : 207 n. 26
b
235 33: 156 n . 17
b
1133 6: 207 n. 26 a
235 34-236 5: IS9, 4 , 181
b a l 6
H 3 S 2 8 - 3 o : 278 n. 19
a
236*7-27: 156
H 3 S i : 275 b
n. 16 236*7-15: 164, 171
H3S 2S ff.: 272 b
236*7-10: 164-5
ii39 2i—2: 107
a
236*7-8: 157 n . 19
1143 8—9: 108, 110 n. 13
a
236*7: 157 n . 18, 159, 173
H47 34: 108 a
236*9-10: 157 n . 20, 185
Physics 236*10—11: 157
i92 8-34: 231
b
236*12: 185
i92 2o-3: 149 n. 3, 231, 259
b
236*14-15: 174, 185, 186
i 9 2 2 i - 2 : 257 - 58
b n
236*14: 157 n . 21, 185
I 9 3 2 2 - i 9 4 i 2 : 149 n. 1
b a
236*15-27: 157, 164, 171, 177, 184
I 9 3 3 5 - i 9 4 7 : 347
b a
236*15: 174 n . 40, 185
I94 5: 347 n . 11
a
236*16—20: 160, 174, 176
i 9 4 3 i - 4 : 245 n. 37
a
236*17-18: 175
i 9 S 3 i - 3 : 57 n . 31
a
236*17: 175
I 9 5 3 3 - 6 : 57 n . 3 1
a b
236*18: 180
i 9 5 i - 2 : 57 n. 31
b
236*19: 176
i 7 2 3 - 9 : 233
9
b
236*20-7: 174, 176, 178, 182
I98 2~4: 231
a
236*20—6: 160
I 9 8 i 7 - i 9 9 8 : 231 n. 12
b a
236*26-7: 174
I 9 8 i 8 : 245 n. 37
b
236*27: 176, 182
i99 2o-6: 231
a
2 3 6 i 9 : 163
b
2 3 6 2 i : 163
b
209 i: 162 b
2 3 9 i o - n : 181
a
stotelis
2 3 9 n - i 7 : 181
a
Streijger—Bakker—Thijssen
255*5-10: 274 n. 13
2 6 o * 2 9 - 7 : 358 b 197. 2 4 - 1 9 8 . 3: 2 1 5 - 1 6 n. 43
2 6 o i 5 - i 9 : 357, 358
b 230. 6—232. 5: 208 n. 29
2 6 o i 9 - 2 9 : 357 n. 33, 358
b
2 6 o i 9 - 2 i : 152 n. 9
b Camerarius, Joachim
2 6 o 2 9 - 2 6 i * i 2 : 357 n. 33
b ad Arist. NE n i 3 7 - 8 : 132
b
261*13-26: 357 n. 33
2 6 i 3 2 - 4 : 200
b
Choeroboscus, Georgius
262*12-17: 200 Prolegomena et scholia in Theodosii
2 6 4 2 4 - 8 : 200 n. 11
b
Alexandrini canones isagogicos de fle
265*13—17: 199 n. 10 xions verborum, ed. Hilgard
Politics 85. 17-18: i n n. 14
86. 29—31: i n n. 14
1253*19-30: 257 n. 57
86. 3 4 - 5 : i n n. 14
1265*1-10: 9 7
i 2 8 8 2 i - 6 : 235 b 336. 2 5 - 6 : i n n. 14
1340*25-8: 75 n. 22
i 3 4 o 2 i - 5 : 85 n. 43
b Cicero
Posterior Analytics Academica
7 6 3 5 - 9 : 249
b
1- 45: 315, 3 1 5 - 1 6 n. 5, 316, 317, 318,
77*10-12: 249 326, 331
Rhetoric 2- 77: 3 1 5 - 1 6 n. 5
i 3 S 9 3 6 : 110 n. 13
a 2. 104: 318
1366*36: 270—1 n. 9 De oratore
Sophistici elenchi 3. 67: 316 n. 6
i 7 5 9 - i o : 106
b
I 7 5 i 3 - i 4 : 106
b
Diogenes L a e r t i u s
176*10—11: 106 4. 28: 325 n. 22, 326 n. 25
176*15-16: 106 4. 32: 325 n. 22
Topics
i S 4 3 i - 2 : 346 n. 10
a
E m p e d o c l e s , 31 D K
158*15-17: 106 B 17. 9: 55 n. 28
160*33—4: 106 B 26. 8: 55 n. 28
368 Index Locorum
Eusebius Oresme, N i c o l e
Praeparatio Evangelica Quaestiones super De generatione et cor-
7 3 0 c—731 B : 3 1 6 n. 6 ruptione, ed. Caroti
2 2 1 . 76—90: 203 n. 17, 214 n. 39
ad Arist. NE n i 3 7 - 8 : 1 3 1 b B 8. 4 1 : 25
Heliodorus Philoponus
In Ethica Nicomachea paraphrasis, ed. In Aristotelis libros De generatione et
Heylbut corruptione commentaria, ed. Vitelli
230. 27-231. 3: 2 1 4 n. 39
50. 10—11: 120
231. 18—20: 1 9 7 n. 3
234. 19—235. 18: 2 0 2 n. 16
Hermannus Alemannus
242. 1 5 - 2 2 : 203 n. 17
Summa Alexandrinorum, ed. Marchesi
ad Arist. NE I i i 3 6 - i 4 : 1 2 6 b
Plato
Charmides
Homer
167 c-168 c: 52 n. 19
Iliad
167 E 1-2: 54
168 B 2 - 3 : 54
24. 205: 79 n. 28
168 B 5-8: 54
168 c 4-5: 54
Ibn R u s h d
168 c 9 - 1 0 : 54
In Aristotelis Ethica Nicomachea Gorgias
ad Arist. NE I i i 3 6 - i 4 , ap. Aristotle/
b
4 6 1 B 4-6: 334
Averroes, 2nd Juntine, 1 9 . 1 8 — 2 6 : Laws
126
6 3 1 D 2 — 6 3 2 B 1: 90
James 633C-634B: 86 n. 44
Epistle 633 D 2-3: 79 n. 30
5- 12: 137 63S c s - D 1: 7 9
6 4 3 D 1: 6 7 n. 11
Joannes X I B e c c u s 643 D 2 - 6 4 5 E 4: 67 n. 11
Four Books to Constantine Meliteniotes, 6 4 3 D 2: 94
ed. Migne 644 c: 84 n. 41
388. 16-18: i n n. 15 6 4 4 D - 6 4 5 B : 65
6 4 4 D - 6 4 5 A : 65
L a m b i n , Denys 6 4 5 A 1: 94
ad Arist. NE n i 3 b
7-8: 129 645 A 4-S: 94
645 D - E : 77 n. 25
M a n u e l I I Palaeologus 645 D: 77 n. 25, 80 n. 33
Dialogi cum mahometano, ed. Migne 6 4 5 D 7: 7 7 n . 25
2 2 1 . 29—31: i n n. 15 645 E 5-6: 75
Index Loconim 369
6 4 5 E 5: 6 7 n . 11 791 B—c: 8 6 n . 44
646 c 4: 9 4 n. 55 791 B: 84
647 A - B : 9 1 791 B 7: 86
647E 1: 9 4 n . 55 791 D: 85
6 4 9 A 3: 9 4 n . 55 792 B: 84
653 B-c: 73 7 9 8 A : 83 n. 39
653 B : 8 9 - 9 0 n. 49 798 D - E : 83
653 c 7: 8 1 n . 35 815 E - 8 1 6 A: 86 n. 44
654 c 7: 8 1 n. 35 822E-832A: 90 n. 50
6 5 4 D 2: 7 4 n . 2 1 , 8 1 n . 35 8 3 6 B 3: 93
6 5 5 D 7 - E 3: 7 5 n. 23 841 B 5-6: 91 n. 52
6 5 5 E 2: 8 1 n . 35 841 c: 91
6 5 6 B 5: 8 1 n . 35 857 D - E : 89-90 n. 49
659 D : 8 9 - 9 0 n. 49 8 5 7 D 7: 8 9 - 9 0 n . 49
659 D 1-3: 73 8 5 7 E 3: 8 9 - 9 0 n . 49
6 5 9 D 2: 94 8 6 3 B - 8 6 4 c: 80 n. 33
6 5 9 D 5: 8 1 n . 35 863 B: 63, 66
6 6 3 B 5: 8 1 n . 35 863 B 1-9: 80 n. 33
6 6 6 B 6: 9 4 n . 55 863 E 6-8: 80 n. 33
6 7 1 B 8 - D 3: 77-8 869 A: 66
671 D - 6 7 2 D : 78 n. 26 8 7 4 E - 8 7 5 D : 98 n . 66
6 7 2 D 5: 9 4 n . 55 8 8 0 D 8 - E 3: 7 9 n . 30
6 8 9 A - c : 8 9 - 9 0 n. 49 886 B: 92 n. 54
718 C - D : 8 9 - 9 0 n. 49 8 8 7 C - 8 8 8 B: 92 n. 54
718 D 4: 8 9 - 9 0 n . 49 8 8 8 A : 8 9 - 9 0 n. 49
7 1 8 D 6: 8 9 - 9 0 n . 49 8 8 9 A 4 - E 1: 259
723 A : S 9 - 9 0 n. 49 9 0 3 B 5 - D 1: 255-6
723 A 4: 8 9 - 9 0 n. 49 908 B: 92 n. 54
7 2 3 A 5: 8 9 - 9 0 n . 49 908 E: 92 n. 54
731A: 91 919 B 4: 93
789 E 2-3: 79 n . 30 9 5 7 D 6: 93
791 A 4: 8 4 - 5 n. 42 130 B : 46
37o Index Locorum
130 E—131 E: 46 295 A 5 - 8 : 9 5 - 6 n . 60
131 A - E : 44 Republic
131 B: 46 376 A 6: 74 n . 21
132 A: 46 376 B 6: 74 n . 21
132 D - 1 3 3 B: 44 377 A 1 2 - B 3: 78
133 B 4 - 6 : 48 4 0 1 D—402 A : 73 n . 19
1 3 3 C - 1 3 4 E : 43 ff- 4 0 1 E—402 A : 74 n . 21
133 c 3-S: 4 4 , 4 6 n . 4 401 E 4: 81 n . 35
133 c 8 - D 2: 45 402 A 3 - 4 : 74 n . 21
133 c 8: 52, 55 4 0 2 A 3: 74 n . 21
133 D 1-2: 4 6 , 4 7 n . 7 403 E: 96
133 D 2 - 5 : 45 410 B 5 - 6 : 86
133 D 7 - 1 3 4 A 1: 4 4 4 1 0 D—411 E: 73 n . 19
133 D 7 - E 4: 58 410 D: 79
134 A-B: 54 411 A 5 - B 4: 78
134 A 3 - B 1: 4 4 411 B 6-c 2: 86
134 B I I - C 2: 48 411 D 7 - E 2: 86
134 D 9-E 6: 4 9 438 B - E : 52 n . 19
134 D 9 - E 1: 4 9 438 B 4 - c 9: 53
134 D 10: 4 9 438 c 6 - 9 : 5 9 - 6 0 n . 34
134 E 2-6: 49 438 c 9: 54
134 E 2: 4 9 438 E 5: 5 9 - 6 0 n . 34
134 E 5 - 6 : 48 4 3 9 E - 4 4 0 A : 73 n . 19
134 E 7: 4 8 441 B 3—c 2: 68
Phaedo 4 4 1 c : 73 n . 19
62 D 2-3: 49 4 4 1 E - 4 4 2 D : 69
97 B 8-98 A 2: 2 2 6 , 229 4 4 1 E - 4 4 2 A : 73 n . 19
97 D
5 - 9 8 A 2: 2 2 6 - 7 , 229 n . 8 4 4 1 E 8 - 4 4 2 A 2: 73 n . 19
98 B 1-4: 255 4 4 2 A - c : 86 n . 4 4
Pkaedrus 4 4 2 A 2: 8 0 n . 3 1 , 96 n . 6 2
230 D 6: 93 4 4 2 B - c : 63
253 D - 2 5 4 A : 73 n . 19 509 A 6-513 E 3: 228 n . 6
2 5 7 C - 2 5 8 C : 93 549 A: 73 n . 19
261 A 8: 9 4 550 B 6: 6 7 , 73 n . 19
261 E: 93 580 D - 5 8 1 c: 81 n . 34
268 c 3: 93 581 A: 73 n . 19
270 B 6: 93 590 A 9 - B 9: 86
271 B: 93 590 C - D : 98 n . 66
271 c 10: 94 606 D 1: 68
274 E 6: 93 Seventh Letter
275 A 5: 93 344 C - D : 94 n . 56
275 A 7 - B 1: 92 Sophist
275 D 4 - 9 : 93 255 c 14: 59 n . 33
276 c 8 - 9 : 93 Symposium
277 D - E : 93 199 D 1-2: 55
277 D 6 — I O : 93 199 D 5: 55
277 E - 2 7 8 A : 96 199 E 3 - 4 : 55
Pkilebus 200 A 5: 54
58 B 9-59 D 8: 228 n . 6 Theaetetus
Politicus 152 A - c : 52 n . 19
268 B: 96 15 2 A 6 - c 3: 20
294 A ff.: 94 1 5 2 c 5 - 6 : 22 n . 39
294 B 4 - 6 : 9 5 - 6 n . 60 152 D 2 - E 1: 4, 5
Index Locorum 37i
1 5 2 D 2—3: 2 , 1 6 n . 26 181 E 5 - 7 : 24
153 o 8 - 1 5 4 A 4: 4, 5 1 8 2 A 7 - B 3: 29
1 5 3 D 8 - 1 5 4 A 3: 6 1 8 2 A 8 - B 3: 2 9 n . 53
154 A 3-9: 7 1 8 2 A 8 - B 1: 2 7
I 54 A 3-8: 9 II. 16 1 8 2 A 8 - B 3: 26
1 5 4 A 3-4'- 7 1 8 2 B 1: 27
1
5 4 A 3: 7 n. 10 182 B 6-7: 29 n . 53
154 A 4: 8 n . 12 182 c 1 - 1 8 3 B 5: 1 8 n. 32
1
5 4 A 6-7: 7 182 c 8: 24
154 A 7-8: 25 n . 44 182 c 9 - 1 1 : 28
1 5 4 A 7: 8 n . 13 182 c 9-10: 29 n. 53
154B 2-3: 9 n. 16 1 8 2 D I - E 1 2 : 35 n . 6 1
154B 3-6: 9 1 8 2 D I - E 3: 3 5 n . 6 1
156 A 2 - 1 5 7 c 1: 4 , 5 182 D 1-5: 28
1 5 6 A 2 - C 5: I O 182 D 1-2: 28, 30, 32 n . 55
I 56 A 5 - 7 : I O 182 D 2—5: 3 1
1 5 6 A 5: 2 182 D 2-3: 32
I 56 A 8 - B 1: 11 1 8 2 D 2: 3 2 n. 55, 32 n. 56
I 56 B 1-2: I I 182D 3: 3 2 n . 55
I 56 B 2 - 7 : I I 182 D 4 - 5 : 33
1 5 6 B 7—C 3 : 1 1 182 D 6 - 7 : 35
I 5 6 C 7 - 1 5 7 A 7: I O 1 8 2 D 8 - E 6: 35
156 c 9—D I : I I 1 8 2 E 4 - 1 2 : 35 n . 6 1
1 5 6 D 1—3: 12 1 8 2 E 4 : 33 n. 58
I 56 E 2 - 4 : I 2 182 E 8-12: 36
156 E 4 - 7 : 12 1 8 2 E 1 1 - 1 2 : 35 n . 6 1
I 56 E 6 - 7 : 16 183 A 2 - 8 : 36
156 E 7 - 9 : 14 183 A I O - B 4 : 37
1 5 6 E 8: 14 n. 22 183 D 3: 3 3 n. 57
157 A 2 - 7 : 14, 17 1 8 4 B 2 - 1 8 6 E 12: 3 8 , 38 n . 6 5 , 4 0 , 4 1
1
5 7 A 7—B 2: 14 184 E 5-7: 38
1 5 7 A 7—c 3: 10 185 A 8 - E 2: 3 9
157 B 4 ~ 5 :
15 186 B 6 - 9 : 39 n . 68
157 B 6 - 7 : 17 186 c 9 — D 1: 3 9
:
5 7 B
7-8: 1 9 - 2 0 n . 34 201 D 2-3: 5 9 - 6 0 n. 34
179 c I - D 1: 2 2 n. 39 Timaeus
179c 2-5: i , 25 n . 4 5 , 4 0 n . 7 1 2 7 D 5 - 2 9 D 3: 2 2 8 n . 6
179 c 5 - D 1: 1 29 A 5—B 1 : 2 5 9
179 E - 1 8 0 c: 15 n. 23 2 9 D 7 - 3 0 A 7: 2 2 6 n . 2
1 8 0 D 7 - E 5: 25 2 9 D 7—c 1: 2 5 9
180 E 1 : 2 6 n . 4 6 2 9 E 1—2: 2 2 6 n. 2
180E 3 - 4 : 25 3 0 A 3: 236
181 A 1-4: 26 4 2 A: 8 1 n . 34
l 8 l B 8-183 B
5: 40 42A 7: 68
181 c-182 A: 18 n . 3 i 46 c 7 - E 6: 259
181 c 3 - D 3: 25 53 B
7 - 6 9 A 5: 248
181 c 6-7: 23 69 C - D : 81 n. 34
1 8 1 D 8 - 1 8 2 A 2: 1 n . 1 69 D - 7 1 E: 69
372 Index Locorum
69 D 3: 68 Themistius
69 E 5 - 7 0 A 6: 68 In Aristotelis Physica parapkrasis, ed.
70 A—D: 73 n. 19 Schenkl
70 A - B : 79 n. 28 195. 8 : 1 5 7 n. 2 2
70 A 2-3: 68 232. 1—9: 2 0 0 n. 1 1
70 B 3-5: 86 n. 44
70 c I - D 6: 8 7
Theophrastus
75 A 7 - D 4: 236
Fragments, ed. F H S & G
156A: 1 5 7 n. 2 2
Plutarch
156B: 1 5 7 n. 2 2
Adversus Colotem
1 1 2 0 c: 3 2 5 n. 2 2
T h o m a s of Sutton
1 1 2 1 E — 1 1 2 2 A : 3 1 6 n. 6
1. 2 3 2 : 3 2 5 n. 2 2
1. 2 3 3 : 3 1 6 n. 6 W i l l i a m of Moerbeke
Aristotelis secundum exemplar Pari-
Simplicius siacum: Ethica Nicomachea {'recen-
In Aristotelis Physica commentaria, ed. sio recognita'—Roberti Grosseteste
Diels translationis recensio), ed. Gauthier
310. 25—311. 1: 259 n. 66 Clavis: 2 6 . 3 , liber: 3 , cap.: 7 , p. 4 1 8 .
986. 6: 157 n. 22 10: 1 2 1 n. 5 2
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