ASSIGNMENT No.

1
Course: Social Theory I (4669) Semester: Autumn, 2022
Student NAME: ___________________ MSc Pak Study

Q.1 What are the nature and elements of early religious theories?
Discuss in detail.

Answer:

nature worship, system of religion based on the veneration of natural

phenomena—for example, celestial objects such as the sun and moon and
terrestrial objects such as water and fire.

In the history of religions and cultures, nature worship as a definite and complex
system of belief or as a predominant form of religion has not been well
documented. Among the indigenous peoples of many countries, the concept
of nature as a totality is unknown; only individual natural phenomena—e.g., stars,
rain, and animals—are comprehended as natural objects or forces that influence
them and are thus in some way worthy of being venerated or placated. Nature as an
entity in itself, in contrast with human society and culture or even with God, is a
philosophical or poetic conception that has been developed among advanced
civilizations. This concept of nature worship, therefore, is limited primarily to
scholars involved in or influenced by the modern (especially Western) study of
religion.

Nature as a sacred totality

To students of religion, the closest example of what may be termed nature worship
is perhaps most apparent in ancient cultures in which there is a high god as the lord
in heaven who has withdrawn from the immediate details of the governing of the
world. This kind of high god—the deus otiosus, Latin for ―hidden, or idle, god‖—is
one who has delegated all work on earth to what are called ―nature spirits,‖ which
are the forces or personifications of the forces of nature. High gods exist, for
example, in such indigenous religions on Africa‘s west coast as that of the Dyola of
Guinea. In such religions the human spiritual environment is functionally structured
by means of personified natural powers, or nature spirits.

Pantheism (a belief system in which God is equated with the forces of the universe)
or Deism (a belief system based on a nonintervening creator of the universe), as
was advocated in the rationalistic philosophy of religion of western Europe from the
16th to the 18th century, is not appropriate in studies of nature worship in
preliterate cultures. Worship of nature as an omnipotent entity, in the pantheistic
sense, has not as yet been documented anywhere.

The power or force within nature that has most often been venerated, worshiped, or
held in holy awe is mana. Often designated as ―impersonal power‖ or
―supernatural power,‖ the term mana used by Polynesians and Melanesians was
appropriated by 19th-century Western anthropologists and applied to that which
affected the common processes of nature. Mana was conceptually linked to
North American Indian terms that conveyed the same or similar notions—
e.g., orenda of the Iroquois, wakan of the Dakotas, and manitou of the Algonquin.
Neither ―impersonal power‖ nor ―supernatural power‖ implies the true meaning
of mana, however, because mana usually issues from persons or is used by them,
and the concept of a supernatural sphere as distinct or separate from a natural
sphere is seldom recognized by the peoples who use the term.

Thus, a better designation for mana is ―super force‖ or ―extraordinary efficiency.‖

A person who has mana is successful, fortunate, and demonstrates extraordinary
skill—e.g., as an artisan, warrior, or chief. Mana can also be obtained from the atuas
(gods), provided that they themselves possess it. Derived from a root term that has
aristocratic connotations, mana corresponds to Polynesian social classifications.
The ariki, or alii, the nobility of Polynesia, have more mana than commoners, and
both their land and the insignia associated with them have mana. Besides areas and
symbolic elements that are associated with the ariki, many objects and animals
having special relationships with chiefs, warriors, or priests have mana.

The Iroquoian term orenda, like mana, designates a power that is inherent in
numerous objects of nature but that does not have essential personification or
animistic elements. Orenda, however, is not a collective omnipotence. Powerful
hunters, priests, and shamans have orenda to some degree. The wakanda,
or wakan, of the Sioux is described similarly, but as Wakan-Tanka it may refer to a
collective unity of gods with great power (wakan). The manitou of the Algonquin is
not, like wakan, merely an impersonal power that is inherent in all things of nature
but is also the personification of numerous manitous (powers), with a Great Manitou
(Kitchi-Manitou) at the head. These manitous may even be designated as protective
spirits akin to those of other North American Indians, such as the digi of the
Apache, boha of the Shoshone, and maxpe of the Crow, as well as the sila of the
Eskimo.

The super forces (such as Mulungu, Imana, Jok, and others in Africa) that Western
scholars have noted outside of the Austronesian and American peoples are often
wrongly interpreted as concepts of God. Only the barakah (derived from the pre-
Islamic thought world of the Berber and Arabs), the contagious superpower (or
holiness) of the saints, and the power Nyama in the western Sudan that works as a
force within large wild animals, certain bush spirits, and physically handicapped
people—appearing especially as a contagious power of revenge—may be added
with a certain justification to that force of nature that is designated by mana. A
striking similarity with mana may also be noted in the concepts of heil (good
omen), saell (fortunate), and hamingja (luck) of the Germanic and Scandinavian
peoples.
Heaven and earth as sacred spaces, forces, or processes
Heaven and earth, as personified powers of nature and thus worthy of worship, are
evidently not of equal age. Although from earliest times heaven was believed to be
the residence of a high being or a prominent god, the earth as a personified entity
is much rarer; it probably first occurred among archaic agrarian civilizations, and it
continues to occur in some less industrialized societies in which agriculture is
practiced. Gods of heaven, however, are characteristic spiritual beings of early and
contemporary hunting and gathering societies and are found in almost all cultures.

Some worldviews generally assume the earth to be simply given (i.e., as

continuously existing). Sometimes the earth is believed to have emerged out
of chaos or a primal sea or to have come into existence by the act of a heavenly
god, transformer, or demiurge (creator). Even in these worldviews, however, the
earth usually remains without a divine owner, unless through agriculture and the
cult of the dead the earth is conceived as the source of the renewing powers of
nature or as the underworld.
Heaven
The fact that heaven is animated by rain-giving clouds (with lightning and thunder)
and by a regular chorus of warming and illuminating celestial bodies (sun, moon,
and stars) led to concepts of the personification of heaven from earliest times.
Heavenly deities, as the personification of the physical aspects of the sky, appear in
variations that are adapted to the types of cultures concerned. The listing offered
below does not represent a unilinear development that is applicable everywhere.
The father of the family
The god of heaven is often viewed as an ever active father of the family, often called
upon but rarely the recipient of sacrifices. He is able to intervene in human and
natural affairs without the aid of an intermediary—e.g., priest, medicine man, or
ancestors. As a numinous (spiritual) being, he is closer to humanity than other
spiritual powers are. He sends lightning and rain and rules the stars that are at most
essential aspects of himself or are members of his family subject to him. He is the
creator and the receiver of the dead. Modern scholars have designated such a
being as the ―high god,‖ ―supreme god,‖ the ―highest being‖ of the ―original
monotheism‖ (according to the theories of the German scholar P.W. Schmidt), the
idealized god of heaven (according to the views of the Italian historian
of religion Raffaele Pettazzoni), or the familiar father deity (according to the views
of the British anthropologist Andrew Lang). Very human, often comical, or even
unethical and repulsive traits of such deities are often represented in myths that
also sometimes include legends of animal or human ancestors.
This type of deity is generally found in its most developed form among the old
hunting and gathering peoples of the temperate and arid areas (e.g., the North
America forest dwellers, the Fuegians of South America, the indigenous peoples of
Australia, and the African Khoisan) and of the tropical primeval forests, where he is
usually conceived as a storm and thunder being (e.g., Tore of the Bambuti of the
Ituri Forest). He is also worshiped among the pastoral peoples as the ―blue‖ or
―white‖ sky of the wide pastures in the steppes of northeastern Africa (e.g., Waka of
the Oromo) and of Central and North Asia (e.g., Torem, Num, and Tengri of the
Ugrians, Nenets, and Mongols). Among such peoples, heaven is often merged with
an old hunting deity, the lord of the animals, or it allows the latter to exist as a
hypostasis by his side.
The withdrawn god
The god of heaven may be a deus otiosus, who has, after completing the creation,
withdrawn into heaven and abandoned the government of the world to the human
ancestors or to nature spirits that are dependent on him and act as mediators. This
type of the god, who is able to intervene directly only in times of great need, such
as drought, pestilence, or war, can be found primarily where worship of the dead
or worship of individual local ―earth spirits‖—not yet integrated into an all-inclusive
earth deity—obscures everything else. This type of god occurs especially in areas
of so-called primitive agriculture (e.g., large parts of Africa, Melanesia, and South
America).
The first among equals
The god of heaven also may be the head of a pantheon of gods, the first among
equals, or the absolute ruler in a hierarchy of gods. This occurs
in polytheism (belief in many gods) in its purest form. The deities associated with
him are often related to him by family ties (genealogies of gods). Occasionally, the
heavenly phenomena are distributed among members of the clan of gods, the god
of heaven himself thus becoming rather vague. The divine pair heaven-earth
represents only one among many possible combinations—e.g., Dyaus-pitri (=
heaven, male) and Prithivi (= earth, female) in Vedic India or, with an unusual
distribution of the sexes, Nut (= heaven, woman) and Geb (= earth, man) in ancient
Egypt.

Occasionally, as in the pantheons of Greece and western Asia, generations of gods

succeed each other. In such instances, the more universal god of heaven is often
replaced by the younger god of thunderstorms (e.g., Zeus of the Greeks, Teshub of
the Hittites, or Hadad of the Western Semitic peoples) or is even relegated to the
background by a goddess, such as Inanna-Ishtar (the love or fertility goddess in
Babylonia) or Amaterasu, the sun goddess of Japan.

In ancient China, heaven (tian) ruled over the many more popular gods and was
even closely related to the representatives of the imperial household. Deification of
the celestial emperor is a cultic practice that extends from Korea to Annam (part of
Vietnam). The roots of the worship of heaven in Asia are probably the beliefs of
central and northern Asian nomads in a solitary god of heaven. Gods of heaven,
above or behind a pantheon, probably originated in areas where a theocratic
stratified bureaucracy existed or where sacral kingdoms exist or have existed—
e.g., in the Sudanor northeastern Africa (Akan-Baule, Benin, Yoruba, Jukun,
Buganda, and neighbouring states), western Indonesia, Polynesia and Micronesia,
and the advanced civilizations of pre-Columbian Mesoamerica and South America.
Heaven and earth deities as partners
The god of heaven in many areas is a partner of an earth deity. In such cases, other
numina (spirits) are missing or are subject to one of the two as spirits of nature or
ancestors. Myths depicting the heaven-earth partnership usually describe the
foundations or origins of the partnership in terms of a separation of a
primeval chaos into heaven and earth or in terms of a later separation of heaven
and earth that originally lay close together, and they describe the impregnation of
the earth by the seed of the god (e.g., hieros gamos, Greek for ―sacred marriage‖).
This partnership of the god of heaven and the goddess of earth may be found in
areas of Africa that have been influenced by other civilizations (especially the
Sudan and northeastern Africa), in eastern Indonesia, and in some areas of America
under the influence of European civilizations.

Not infrequently the god of heaven and the goddess of earth are fused into a
hermaphroditic higher deity. This accords with certain traits of ancient civilizations
that try to show in customs and myths that the dichotomies—for example, of heaven
and earth, day and night, or man and woman—need to be surmounted in a kind of
bisexual spiritual force. Certain myths express the loss of an original bisexuality of
the world and people. In a creation myth found in the Vedas, for example, it
was Purusha, an androgynous primal human, who separated through
a primordial self-sacrifice into man and woman and from whom the world was
created with all its contrasts. Another such creation myth is the cosmic egg, which
was separated into the male sky and the female earth.
The god of heaven viewed dualistically
In several religions the god of heaven has an antagonistic evil adversary who
delights in destroying completely or partially the good creative deeds of the god of
heaven. This helps to explain the insecurity of existence and concepts
of ethical dualism. In most such cases, the contrasts experienced in the relationship
between heaven and earth deities have been reevaluated along ethical lines by
means of exalting the heavenly elements at the expense of the earthly ones
(especially in Jewish, Christian, and Islamic sects in Europe, west-central and
northern Asia, and certain areas of northern Africa). The figure of an
antagonistic trickster or demiurge that has a somewhat ethical component may be
the result of diffusion and is rather rare in such cultures as those of the Khoisan and
the indigenous peoples of Australia and North America.
The god of heaven viewed monotheistically
The god of heaven, viewed in his ethical aspect, is always an active, single god—
e.g., as in Christian, Jewish, and Islamic monotheism.
Earth
Although in polytheistic religions the earth is usually represented as a goddess and
associated with the god of heaven as her spouse, only rarely is there an elaborate
or intensive cult of earth worship. There are in many religions mother
goddesses who have elaborate cults and who have assumed the function of fertility
for land and human beings, but they hardly have a chthonic (earth) basis. Some
mother goddesses, such as Inanna-Ishtar, instead have a heavenly, astral origin.
There are, however, subordinate figures of various pantheons, such as Nerthus in
Germanic religion or Demeter and Persephone (earth mother and corn girl)
in Greek religion, who have played greater roles than Gaea (the world mother).
Among Indo-Europeans, western Asians (despite their various fertility deities),
Chinese, Koreans, and Japanese, the gods of heaven, sun, and thunderstorms have
held a paramount interest.

When the common people have displayed intensive attention to ―mother earth‖
(such as the practice of laying down newborn babies on the earth and many other
rites), this partially reflects older cults that have remained relatively free from
warrior and nation-building peoples with their emphasis on war (as in the western
Sudan, pre-Vedic India, and the Indian agrarian area of northern Mexico). The
Andean earth-mother figure, Pachamama (Pacha Mama), worshiped by the
Peruvians, stands in sharp contrast to the sun religion of the Inca (the conquering
lord of the Andes region). Earth deities are most actively venerated in areas in
which people are closely bound to ancestors and to the cultivation of grain.
Mountains
Especially prominent mountains are favourite places for cults of high places,
particularly when they are isolated as island mountains, mountains with snowcaps,
or uninhabited high mountain ranges. The psychological roots of the cults of high
places lie in the belief that mountains are close to the sky (as heavenly ladders),
that clouds surrounding the mountaintops are givers of rain, and that mountains
with volcanoes form approaches to the fiery insides of the earth.

Mountains, therefore, serve as the abodes of the gods, as the centres of the dead
who live underground, as burial places for rainmakers (medicine men), and as
places of oracles for soothsayers. In cosmogenic (origin of the world) myths,
mountains are the first land to emerge from the primeval water. They frequently
become the cosmic mountain (i.e., the world conceived as a mountain) that is
symbolically represented by a small hill on which a king stands at the inauguration.
Pilgrimages to mountain altars or shrines are favourite practices of cults of high
places.
The larger mountain ranges and canyons between volcanic mountains—especially
in Eurasia from the Pyrenees to the Alps, the Carpathian Mountains, the Caucasus
Mountains, the Himalayas, the mountainous areas of northern China, Korea, and
Japan, and the mountainous areas of North and South America (the Rocky
Mountains, the Andes)—are most often centres of cults of high places. Elevations of
the East African Rift Valley (Kenya, Tanzania, Uganda), volcanic islands of
the Pacific Ocean (e.g., Hawaii), and the mountains of the Indian Deccan have also
served as centres of the cults of high places.

In early civilizations the cults of high places were closely combined with those of
the earth; e.g., Mount Olympus in Greece, the mountains of Enlil or of the
―Mountain Mother,‖ Cybele, in western Asia, and the Meru mountain in India were
believed to bring heaven and earth into a close relationship and were often viewed
as the middle pillar of the world pillars upholding the sky. Bush and wild spirits
(such as the lord of the animals) of the cultures of the hunters and gatherers were
often believed to reside in inaccessible mountainous areas (e.g., the Caucasus).

More From Britannica

Western theatre: Nature worship
In addition to other mountain deities of a more recent date (e.g., the god of the 12
mountains and the one-legged mountain god), the Japanese mountain deity yama-
no-kami has been demonstrated to have been a deity of the hunt (i.e., god of the
forest, lord of the animals) in ancient Japan. Through the worship of farmers,
the yama-no-kami assumed the elements of a goddess of vegetation and
agriculture. The mountain goddesses (earth mothers) of non-Vedic India still
incorporate numerous features of hunt deities, and, because
of indigenous influences, the Vedic gods and their wives (e.g., Parvati, Uma,
and Durga) have their abodes on mountains. The isolated mountains of East Africa,
surrounded by clouds, are believed to be the dwelling places of the heaven and
rain gods, and in Zimbabwe pilgrimages are made to mountain sanctuaries that are
viewed as the seats of the gods.

Pre-Islamic peoples of North Africa and the extinct inhabitants of the Canary
Islands (the Guanches people) associated mountain worship with a cult of goats and
sheep, which, when practiced in rituals, was believed to secure rain and
thunderstorms in the often arid landscape. Similar cults are also found in the
Balkans and in the valleys of the southern Alps.
Earthquakes
According to the beliefs of many peoples, earthquakes originate in mountains. In
areas of Africa where the concept of mana is particularly strong, many believe that
the dead in the underworld are the causes of earthquakes, though in the upper Nile
basin of South Sudan and in East Africa an earth deity is sometimes blamed. In some
areas a bearer who holds the world up—a concept that probably came from Arabia,
Persia, or India—is believed to cause an earthquake when he changes his position
or when he moves his burden from one shoulder to the other. World bearers often
are giants or heroes, such as Atlas, but they also may be animals: an elephant
(India), a boar (Indonesia), a buffalo (Indonesia), a fish (Arabia, Georgia, and
Japan), a turtle (America), or the serpent god Ndengei (Fiji). In the Arab world, on
the east coast of Africa and in North Africa, an ox generally is viewed as the bearer,
sometimes standing on a fish in the water. Generators of earthquakes also may be
the gods of the underworld, such as Tuil, the earthquake god of the inhabitants of
the Kamchatka Peninsula, who rides on a sleigh under the earth. The earthquake is
driven away by noise, loud shouting, or poking with the pestle of a mortar. Among
peoples with eschatological (last times) views, earthquakes announce the end of the
world (Europe, western Asia).
Tides
The view that the tides are caused by the moon can be found over almost all the
earth. This regular natural phenomenon seldom gives rise to cults, but the ebb and
flow of the coastal waters have stimulated mythological concepts. Not infrequently
the moon acquires the status of a water deity because of this phenomenon.
The Tlingit of the northwestern United States view the moon as an old woman, the
mistress of the tides. The animal hero and trickster Yetl, the raven, is successful in
conquering (with the aid of the mink) the seashore from the moon at low tide, and
thus an extended area is gained for nourishment with small sea animals.
The sun
Generally, the sun is worshiped more in colder regions and the moon in warm
regions. Also, the sun is usually considered as male and the moon as female.
Exceptions to these generalizations, however, are notable: the prevalent worship of
the sun in hot, arid ancient Egypt and in parts of western Asia; the conception of the
moon as a man (who frequently is believed to be the cause of menstruation) among
many hunting and gathering societies as well as certain pastoral and
royal cultures of Africa; and the conception of the female sun ruling northern
Eurasia eastward to Japan and parts of North America.

In many state cults of ancient civilizations, the sun plays a special role, particularly
where it has replaced an old god of heaven (e.g., Egypt, Ethiopia, South India, and
the Andes) and especially where it is viewed as a marker of time.
The sun as the centre of a state religion

In Africa ancient Egypt was the main centre from which solar
deity concepts emanated. The solar religion, promoted by the state, was concerned
with the sun god Re (Atum-Re, Amon-Re, Chnum-Re), the sun falcon Horus, the
scarab Chepre, and a divine kingdom that was determined by the sun
(e.g., pharaoh Akhenaton‘s solar monotheism c. 1350 BCE). The sun religion
reached—by way of Meroe, a sun sanctuary until the 6th century CE, and the upper
Nile—as far as western Ethiopia (e.g., the Hego cult in Kefa and the sun kings in
Limmu) and Nigeria (e.g., Jukun). In Asia the sun cult culminated in the religion
of Mithra of Persia. Mithra was transported by Roman legionnaires to western
Europe and became the ―Unconquerable Sun‖ of the Roman military emperors. In
Japan the imperial deity in state Shintō is Amaterasu, the sun goddess from
whom Jimmu Tennō , the first human emperor, descended. In Indonesia, where the
descent of the princes from the sun also is a feature, the sun often replaces the deity
of heaven as a partner of the earth. In Peru the ruling Inca was believed to be the
sun incarnate (Inti) and his wife the moon. A sun temple in Cuzco contains a
representation of Inti as the oldest son of the creator god. The Natchez Indians of the
southeastern United States, who are culturally connected with Central America,
called their king ―Great Sun‖ and the noblemen ―the Suns.‖
The sun as a subordinate deity
The sun, within a polytheistic pantheon, often is revered as a special deity who is
subordinate to the highest deity, usually the god of heaven. This may be observed
in the great civilizations of ancient Europe and Asia: Helios (Greece); Sol (Rome);
Mithra (Persia); Surya, Savitr, and Mithra (India); Utu (Sumer); and Shamash
(Babylonian and other Semitic areas).

The sun not infrequently is considered female—Shams of some Arabs, Shaph of

ancient Ugarit in Palestine, Sun of Arinna of the Hittites, as well as the female Sun of
the Germanic peoples. Siberian people such as the Taymyr Samoyed (whose
women pray in spring to the sun goddess in order to receive fertility or a rich
calving of the reindeer) or the Tungus worship sun goddesses. They make
sacrifices to the sun goddess, and her symbols are embroidered on women‘s
clothes.
The sun and moon as a divine pair
A sun god is often related to a moon goddess as one member of a divine pair (in the
place of heaven and earth as ―world parents‖). A sun-moon god exists among the
Munda in India (Singbonga); a sun-moon (earth) pair, partially seen as bisexual,
exists in eastern Indonesia; and Nyambe (the sun) among the Lozi in Zambia is
represented as united with the moon goddess as the ruling pair.
The sun as an attribute of the highest being
The sun sometimes is viewed as a coordinate or subordinate attribute, or
hypostasis, of the highest being. This may possibly occur because of a partially
weakened influence of a stronger solarism in areas of older indigenous peoples,
such as those of Sudan, Burkina Faso, Nigeria, northern East Africa, and Australia.
The sun as a mythical being
The sun in some religions is conceived as a purely mythical being, cultically
recognized in sun dances such as those of prairie-dwelling Native Americans and in
various celebrations of the solstice. These rites may be either survivals of an earlier
local cult of a sun deity or influences of such a cult.
The moon
The moon is often personified in different ways and worshiped with ritual customs;
nevertheless, in contrast to the sun, the moon is less frequently viewed as a
powerful deity. It appears to be of great importance as the basis of a lunar
calendar but not in more advanced agrarian civilizations. The moon, infrequently
associated with the highest god, is usually placed below heaven and the sun. When
the moon with the sun together (instead of ―heaven and earth‖) constitute an
important pair of gods (world parents), it frequently assumes the features of an
earth deity. In tropical South America, the sun and moon are usually purely
mythical figures.Between the Tropic of Capricorn and the Tropic of Cancer, the
moon is predominantly female. Only some remainders of ancient hunting peoples
view the moon as a male being. In the few significant male moon gods, such as
both Khons and Thoth in Egypt, Sin-Nanna in Babylonia, and Chandra in India—in
contrast with the female Selene and Luna in the Greek and Roman culture—a more
ancient substratum may be present. Where the moon is considered as male, he
often determines the sexual life of the woman, especially among
the indigenous people of Australia.

The phenomenon of the moon that attracts all people is the sequence of its phases.
The waxing and waning of the moon crescent is often interpreted as gaining or
losing weight (eating, dieting). Thus, the Taulipang in Brazil believe that the moon
is first nourished well and then inadequately by his two wives, Venus and Jupiter.
Where the moon is viewed as female, the phases represent pregnancy and
delivery. Elsewhere, people see childhood, maturity, and dying as the phases of
the moon: the first crescent is thus the rebirth or the replacement of the old by a
new moon.

Q.2 What is the fundamental difference between the Socrates approach towards
man and pre-Socrates philosophers approaches? Elaborate the Socratic
methods to examine good and justice.

Pre-Socratics

The underlying assumptions of the early philosophers, the early scientists of Greek
culture were:

 There is an intelligible coherence in the phenomenal world

 The universe is an intelligible whole
 There is an order, a cosmos, that underlies the chaos of our perceptions and
that
 The Order of the universe is comprehensible to reason
In the works of the pre-socratics there is obviously the progression from
mythopoetic thought to a primitive scientific thinking in the form of speculative
inquiry and from that form of thought to philosophy as rational inquiry. These
thinker were searching for the arche or the very first or most fundamental
principles or causes. They wondered about the immanent and lasting ground for
existence. They were critical of the cosmogony they had in the mythopoetic tales.
They were looking for a cosmology (an explanation for the order of the universe)
that did not rely on the gods.They did not base their thinking on belief but on
reason.

These thinkers were naturalists and materialists as they sought answers to physical
questions that were rooted in the physical itself. They were looking for the stuff out
of which the universe was composed and they wanted an answer that was itself
made of the same stuff. The matter of the universe would have its explanation in
matter. They were, for the most part, materialists, rejecting spiritual or religious
explanations for the causes and stuff of the universe.

Introduction to the Presocratics

Thales

Thales was looking for the basic stuff (physis) out of which all else is made. He
expressed his idea concerning the basic stuff in his claim that ―All things are made
of water‖ Now at first you might think that his idea is pretty silly and definitely
wrong, however, that would be the wrong approach. What do you suppose was
meant by that claim? Thales was attempting to express an idea at a time when his
language was not developed to the point where he could express an abstraction.
We are accustomed to thinking in abstraction and we are that way in part because
we have a language with many words that are linked with abstractions. The Greeks
at this time did not have that to work with. For example, if someone wanted to call
for justice, they would call upon the goddess who in their tales represented what
today we consider in the abstract as justice. So instead of saying‖ I want justice‖ or
―Give me justice‖ they might say something of this sort ‖May the goddess Themis
settle this by sending us a sign‖

Thales claim is most likely the claim that there is ―Unity in Difference‖ In other
words, Thales was attempting to claim that there was some basic stuff out of which
all things are made. He selects water perhaps because it has properties which
enable all the people of his time and our time to experience water in three different
states: Liquid, solid and gas. Now if one thing such as water can exist in three very
different forms then there must be something , like water, that is the basic stuff,
physics, of the universe. Today, scientists make a similar claim. All reality, all that
exists in the universe is made of or composed of or manifests as: energy. So from
Thales comes the idea that no matter how things may appear, all things are made
up of the same stuff: Everything is one thing!

Anaximander: (ca. 612-545 BC)

Anaximander rejected Thales basic stuff, water, and speculated that the ultimate
reality could not be identified with any one particular element. He came up with the
basic stuff being the boundaries or the infinite or the unlimited. This basic stuff was
infinite and without a beginning. He also conceived of the theory of species
evolving from one another through time in response to the need to adapt. He
thought of the earth as revolving. He speculated that all life originated in the sea
and moved onto the land. With this thinker abstraction and materialism developed
further.

Anaximenes (585-528 BC)

Anaximenes hypothesized that it was not water but AIR that was the fundamental
stuff of the universe and that air can be condensed or rarefied to take on the
properties of what appear to be other elements. He sought to simplify and clarify
the model of the universe.

Anaxagoras (500-428 BC)

Anaxagoras appears to have taught that all that is can be explained with a
combination of nous and matter. For him the universe of matter was set into its form
and motions by Nous or mind. This mind is immortal, homogeneous, omnipotent,
omniscient and orders all phenomena. He did not believe in gods and goddesses.
He did not think that the sun was a god and the moon a goddess. He thought the sun
was a ball of fire and the moon a rock which reflected light from the sun. He was to
be executed for blasphemy by the Athenians but escaped to another land. Socrates
was interested in his theories until Socrates learned that for Anaxagoras the nous
acted at the beginning of the universe, setting all in motion, and was not invoked by
Anaxagoras to explain motions including those of humans. Socrates was to focus on
the actions of humans and believed that their minds had a great deal to do with their
actions.

Parmenides (540-470 BC)

Parmenides taught that all that is has always been and always will be. Reality is that
which never changes. Reality is being and not becoming. Changelessness is the
nature of all reality. This is not obvious to our senses. Parmenides trusted in his
reason over his senses. The appearance of things can be deceiving, so trust in
reason. All change is illusion for Parmenides. Change cannot be real. The truth is
what is arrived at by thought and the truth is set over and against opinions based
upon sense impressions and common beliefs. The REAL is changeless.

He arrives at his ideas through a process of reasoning. Consider the following:

 If something exists, it must come from something.

 Something can not come from nothing. If there ever were nothing, there
would need to be nothing forever.
 Something can not come from nothing.
 There is something now.
 The something from which the present something comes must always have
been.
 There must always have been something, because something can not come
from nothing.
 So that which is has always been and will always be.
 Change is an illusion.
 Permanence is real.
 All is one, permanent and at rest.

Being never comes into existence, nor does it cease to be. Being always is. It cannot
be added to or divided. It is whole and complete in itself, one. It is unmoved and
unchangeable. Being is. Being does not become. Becoming is not. Becoming is
unreal. Being is and is self-identical and uncaused.

Absolute Idealism

So with Parmenides Philosophy comes to trust in reason over the senses. His
thought liberates reason from the senses. There is in his work the recognition of the
autonomy of thought and the use of independent criteria for judging thought;
namely, coherency & consistency over probability.

Philosophy is born in the recognition of the importance of abstract general

principles. Philosophy develops as a rigorous process of inquiry involving insights
and deductive reasoning. In Philosophy the human mind comes to recognize its
own creation.

Socrates

We now will now turn to look at the life and thought of Socrates. It was he who
developed the philosophical process of thought and who focused on matters of
great concern to humans. He was concerned with the question: How do I live a
Good Life? He was concerned with questions of knowledge, truth, beauty and
Goodness. He was executed for his beliefs and virtues. An interesting story and a
life that produced such a great impact on the world that it is true to say that what
Socrates did changed the world. If Socrates had not lived as he did you and I would
not be as we are today. In fact we probably would not exist at all. Socrates led to
Plato who led to Aristotle who together produced an impact on how people in the
West thought about life and the world and reality and ethics. The ideas for which
they provided the foundation and methodology led to movements and actions and
creation of institutions that shaped the history of the world.

Socrates spent most of his life speaking with his fellow Athenians and anyone else
who wished to speak with him. He spoke about matters of great importance to him,
he sought after answers to important questions. He was not a Sophist as he never
charged anyone for any lessons concerning anything. He did not claim to know the
answers. He did not attempt to win contests with prizes. He was seriously interested
in learning about truth, beauty, goodness and virtue. He entered the public spaces
of Athens each day to speak with and question his fellows and pursue after wisdom
to know the difference between what he knew and what he did not know.

Socrates seeks after the wise to learn what their wisdom is and how one could
acquire it. He questions those who claim to have knowledge. In the Ion Socrates is
questioning someone who has won a prize for public speaking (recitation and who
thinks that because he has memorized some lines on a subject that he really
understands what it is all about. Socrates questions show that he doesn't.

Socrates left the town limits of Athens only three times in his entire life. All three
times was as a soldier to defend Athens! Socrates acts heroically. Alcibiades is a
handsome young man and great warrior, a soldier of fortune, who enjoys himself a
great deal.

Euthyphro

On his way to the trial Socrates comes across a young man named, Euthyphro, who
is returning form the courthouse. Socrates learns that he is returning from posting
charges against someone and so Socrates inquires as to the defendant. He is
shocked to learn that the young man has brought charges against his own father!
Socrates inquires as to why he is doing this and does he think that he is correct in
doing so. The young man informs him that he has charged his father with murder for
allowing a servant who killed another servant to die while tied up awaiting for the
authorities to arrive to arrest him.

Socrates asks the young man why he thinks it is a good thing to bring charges
against his own father. The young man replies that it is the pious thing to do.
Socrates asks him if he knows what piety is. Euthyphro responds by saying that he
believes that piety is to please the gods. Socrates asks how we know how to do that
and Euthyphro responds that to do as the gods do is to please them. He cites
passages from the epic tales that describe a god taking actions against his own
father and provides this as a justification for doing what he is doing. Socrates
presses on with his questions. For Socrates this is a most important matter. Socrates
is attempting to learn how one knows what is good. How do you know what the right
thing to do would be. It must be good. We all want to do good. We want good
answers, good friends, and a good life. So how do you know what is good.
Euthyphro thinks he knows what is the good. It is whatever is pleasing to the gods.
The gods are the standard for goodness. Now Socrates has a major problem with
this approach. There are problems with it. Socrates asks Euthyphro the key
questions. Which gods are we to please. Not all the gods agree. The stories report
that they war among themselves. So what is pleasing to one may be displeasing to
another. There were stories of gods respecting their parent s and stories of the
gods killing their own parents. Likewise there were stories of the gods killing their
own children, committing murder, lying, raping and every other horrible act.

So what is the basis for the good. Here is the question that set Socrates apart from all
others of his day. A question that sets Philosophy apart from religion and a question
that Socrates could not answer. He died without an answer. Plato devised an answer
but Socrates had not reached that point at his death.

Do we call those acts good because the gods do them or do the gods do them
because they are good? Are acts good just because the gods do them and whatever
a god does is good just because the god did it? Or, are certain acts good and that is
why a god does it?

Euthyphro can‘t even understand the question and states that he must be going and
thus ends the dialogue. Most people of Socrates time could not understand the
importance of the question. If the gods do what they do because it is good then
there would be a standard for goodness, which even the gods would answer to and
it would exist apart from the gods to be held over them for the sake of judgment.
But for the Greeks there was nothing above the gods. The theory that Euthyphro put
forward is called the Divine Command Theory. Many people who believe in a
single deity also hold for such a theory. Perhaps you think so too.

The Trial of Socrates

Socrates is just over 70 years of age at the time he is accused of a crime. He had
never before been accused of anything wrong or criminal. He had served as a
justice but never been a defendant. He was very well known. He was at least
regarded as a great thinker, something of a scientist for his musings on the nature of
the universe and as a moralist for all his talk about virtue. Who were his accusers
and why did they charge him?
The accuser, Meletus, went to the town hall and presented the charge along with a
requested penalty. The charge was impiety-disbelieving in the gods of the
Athenians and corrupting the young, the penalty was death.

When the Democratic Party overthrew the tyrants, the ―Thirty‖, they needed to
bring about a harmony within the polis. They declared an amnesty for any and all
crimes that may have been committed during the previous few years that the
tyrants had been inducing people into crimes in order to silence their criticisms
and gain their support. No one was to mention anything that had occurred or any
one‘s relation to the thirty tyrants. Now the democratic order did not rest upon the
leaders being noble born. It did not rest upon the power of the military. The
Athenians had governments run by kings, military commanders and wealthy
people. Now they were ruling themselves -- Democracy. They rested that form of
government on the will of the people and their willingness to accept that whatever
the majority wanted would be the correct thing to do. This democracy did not
involve the voting of all Athenians. The voting in Athens included only: males, born
of Athenian mothers, born free, and born legitimate, no bastards. Those men would
vote on all matters and the majority would rule.

Socrates presented a threat to the Democratic Party and form of government.

Socrates had for many years been asking questions and he kept asking questions
hoping to get the correct, final and truthful answer. He asked a series of questions
that were threatening to the political order because they focused directly on the
basic principle underlying the democratic rule. The answers to the questions below
were the same in 399 BC as they are today. Even today to push this issue would
result in someone be criticized for being anti-democratic or anti-American!
Socrates would ask questions such as:

Is there any guarantee that whenever a majority of the people votes on something
declaring that it is true, that that vote makes it true ?

The answer was, NO, there is no such guarantee!

Is there any guarantee that whenever a majority of the people votes on something
declaring that it is beautiful, that that vote makes it beautiful?

The answer was, NO, there is no such guarantee!

Is there any guarantee that whenever a majority of the people vote on something
declaring that it is good, that that vote makes it good?

The answer was, NO, there is no such guarantee!

Is there any guarantee that whenever a majority of the people votes on something
declaring that it is justice, that that vote makes it justice?
 The answer was, NO, there is no such guarantee!

Now this was a threat to the system of government and Socrates was seen as a
danger to the state, a clear and present danger, that needed to be dealt with and
removed in a manner that would not injure the state. Socrates questioning was a
threat to national security.

What was at stake here was a clash between the way of adventure that had
characterized the history of Athens with its open door policy and the way of safety
that had characterized the development of the state of Sparta with its rigid
discipline and narrow range of variations permitted. Socrates was the past of
Athens and now in a precarious condition, some Athenians wanted to make the state
more secure and the questioning of the old man, Socrates, was threatening to the
order and security of the people.

Socrates was not accused of crimes because of his association with the thirty young
tyrants. Although several of the thirty had known Socrates and had listened to him,
he did not encourage or teach them to be tyrants. In fact when they attempted to
silence him for his criticisms of them he refused to arrest Leon of Salamis on their
orders and he refused to observe their ban against teaching people to speak in
public.

So, why was he indicted and why was he found guilty and sentenced to die? There
are a number of factors that probably contributed to a sizable amount of public
opinion being set against Socrates.

1. Socrates was seen as a dangerous intellectual innovator, on the order of

Anaxagoras, who had been driven out of Athens.
2. Socrates speculated about the universe. He was practicing the ―new science‖
and was suspected of atheistic tendencies.
3. Socrates did question people in a manner similar to the Sophists. He cross
examined many who claimed to have knowledge or wisdom in the hope of
gaining what they had. Socrates used the dialectical method of inquiry. He,
unfortunately, showed that many people who claimed to know things actually
did not. He embarrassed the poets, statesman, and artisans of his day. Many
people thought of Socrates as they did the Sophists, although he was not one
of them.
4. Socrates was indiscriminate in his associations. He would allow anyone to
question him and observe him. He did not care who they were. Over time,
foreigners, mathematicians, the young, the Thirty who later became tyrants,
Sophists, politicians all would come to speak with Socrates. Many Athenians
might have harbored suspicions or distrust of Socrates associates and wonder
about Socrates‘ true plans or role in their actions.
 5. Socrates questioning process was a threat to the democratic ideal, the
foundation of the political and social order.

What was really on trial then were the social values to be found in the actions and
inquiries of Socrates.

Both Plato and Xenophon report on the trial itself. There is no text indicating that
Plato has distorted what occurred at the trial. The prosecutor presented his charges
and then Socrates was given his chance to speak. He knew that he had until
sundown of that day to present whatever he wanted to present. He has taken an
oath, sworn to the gods, to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.
He has sworn an oath to accept the verdict of the jury and the penalty imposed by
the jury. It is his desire to keep these oaths that will be his undoing. His desire to be
faithful to his oaths make him say things that disturb many of the jurors and make
him remain in prison to die when he could have left and gone into exile.

Socrates opening points out that it is his duty to speak the truth and it is the duty of
the jury to provide for justice. Socrates will speak in his normal manner and he
maintains that he is not a clever speaker (in the fashion of the Sophists). He is not
accustomed to dealing with courts, as he has never been a defendant. He attempts
to deal with the two sets of charges. He fears that the rumors concerning him are
more damaging than the charges. He can‘t deal with them, as he would want
because the charges are not made specific. He thinks he is there due to the
suspicions surrounding him that he is involved in strange investigations and that he
is associated with sophistry. There were no witnesses to support these charges and
no evidence to show that Socrates ever charged money for instruction as Sophists
did. The god, the oracle at Delphos, has given him his business. When the oracle
said, ―There is no one wiser than Socrates‖, he took it to be giving him the charge
to seek after wisdom. He began to question all who may have had wisdom in any
form only to find that it was not so. His questioning of the statesmen, poets and
artisans did find them guilty of pride (hubris) for thinking that they were wise when
they were not. This also won Socrates their enmity. Socrates does not believe that
he can deal with all the antagonisms by which he was disliked by so many. He does
not believe that he can deal with the prejudices of so many in so short a time
allotted. So he turns to the specific charges.

Corruption of the young

Socrates questions Meletos concerning this charge. Apparently, Meletos believes

that Socrates is the only guilty of this. Socrates makes light of that idea. Socrates
inquires as to whether or not the alleged corruption is deliberate or accidental and
notes that either option leads to a course of action other than to charges and a death
penalty.
Meletos could name no individuals that Socrates had corrupted. No one in the court
room named a single corrupted child.

Impiety

The charge is explained by Meletos to mean that Socrates is an atheist and believes
in no gods. Socrates points out that he is not like Anaxagoras who did not believe in
the gods. Meletos admits under questioning that Socrates teaches about ―spiritual‖
things and when he does so, Socrates forces Meletos to admit that Socrates must
then believe in spirits if he teaches about spiritual things and that spirits are gods
and so Socrates must believe in the gods.

Had Socrates concluded his defense at this point, he might have been acquitted, as
the jury was most likely laughing at the prosecutor. But Socrates did not stop there.
Under oath to tell the whole truth, Socrates proceeded to inform the jury as to the
real reasons he believed he was charged with crimes. He informed Meletos and the
Jury that Meletos and his conspirators did not know he true charge to place against
him. They could not even bring up his loose association with some of the thirty
tyrants due to the amnesty. Socrates knows why he is disliked by so many and now
begins to make a defense of the type of life he has lived. He has only to consider
whether one does right or wrong. The god has posted him to be a philosopher to
test himself and others. He does not fear death. It is unknown. He fears disobeying
god, this is definitely bad. He is not afraid to speak the truth as so many others are.
He will act as the god has posted him to act. He will always be a philosopher, a
seeker after wisdom. He will do this and obey god rather than the mob. He will
always question others concerning truth and virtues and persuade them to care for
its soul and its virtue rather than for fame or money or power. He has acted always
according to what he thought to be right. If he considered doing otherwise, an inner
voice (daemon) would speak to him to warn him away from doing wrong. He has
done so and shall continue to do so in his private and public life. In public he has
never done wrong. He never took money and his finances show it. In public he
refused the demand of the mob for a trial of ten generals together and instead
insisted on separate trials. He refused the tyrants order to arrest Leon of Salamis. He
does not believe that he has done wrong anywhere. He does not believe that he
corrupted anyone.

Socrates informs the jury that he is asking for justice and not mercy or charity. He
would not resort to appeals for mercy as many others had done before him. He
would not bring his wife and small children out to remind them of his family
obligations. These appeals make Athens look ridiculous in the eyes of others. This
encourages the jurors to disrespect their oaths to provide for justice. These are
oaths they swore to the gods as jurors.

Nevertheless, Socrates is found guilty. 281 to 219!

At this point the prosecutor was to present a penalty and the defendant could either
accept it or he would offer an alternative and defend it. Meletos asks for death.
Socrates‘ friends are horrified. They encourage him to propose an alternative.
Socrates speaks aloud wondering what is the punishment befitting his crime. As he
does not believe that he hasn‘t committed a crime, how can he propose a
punishment? Socrates states that it would appear that his ―true‘ crime was not
having the sense to live an idle life; neglecting his own household affairs, not
making money, not pursuing military appointments and for believing himself too
honest to involve himself in tawdry business affairs and political plots as so many
others had done. For that ―crime‖ he thinks the fitting punishment should be free
room and board for he, his wife and children in the town hall for the rest of their
lives! He could not recommend anything that was negative as a consequence of
leading a good life. Many of the jurors become incensed over this offering.
Socrates‘ friends on the jury encourage him to propose another penalty. Socrates
considers alternatives. Death is not that upsetting since Socrates does not know for
sure what that is, prison, fines and exile are considered. Exile is not acceptable
since Socrates would be labeled as a criminal and wherever he went he would not
be able to follow the instruction of the god for he would not be allowed to speak
with others and continue his pursuit of wisdom. Socrates reconsiders a fine but he
has no money. His friends take up a collection and he offers to pay that amount as a
penalty for his crimes. The jury votes and he is sentenced to die by a larger vote
than found him guilty. 360-140!. That meant that there were men on the jury who
voted that he was not guilty and then voted to put him to death anyway! The old man
had offended them with his brazen stance affirming his virtue over their practices.

Socrates now chastises the jurors who are putting him to death, pointing out that
their deed will allow non-Athenians to criticize them. They will call Socrates wise
and Athens foolish. He is an old man and they could not wait for him to die. They
needed to go out of their way to kill him. Socrates spoke to his friends and
encouraged them not to fell so badly for him. He was not afraid of death but of
wickedness. He is confident that the result has been a good one since that inner
voice or daemon had not spoken to him and warned him away from attending the
trials and speaking as he did. He says it is far harder to out run wickedness than
death. Death comes to us all but wickedness is what we should be concerned with
and avoid. We can‘t avoid death. Death was either a dreamless sleep or a journey
to another place. If it was a dreamless sleep, Socrates thought that it would not be
bad at all. If it were a journey to another place where the gods and goddesses and
heroes were he would be happy to be with them and question them and learn the
answers that had eluded him.

Socrates was convinced that no harm can come to a good man either living or dead!
He was taken away to prison to await his execution. In prison he is invited to flee
and live in exile but refuses to do so!
Q.3 Critically analyze the central doctrines of Plato. To what extent his thoughts
helped the man understand the world in his time?
Answer:
Plato (c. 427-347 B.C.E.) developed such distinct areas of philosophy as
epistemology, metaphysics, ethics, and aesthetics. His deep influence on Western
philosophy is asserted in the famous remark of Alfred North Whitehead: ―the safest
characterization of the European philosophical tradition is that it consists of a series
of footnotes to Plato.‖ He was also the prototypical political philosopher whose
ideas had a profound impact on subsequent political theory. His greatest impact
was Aristotle, but he influenced Western political thought in many ways. The
Academy, the school he founded in 385 B.C.E., became the model for other schools
of higher learning and later for European universities.The philosophy of Plato is
marked by the usage of dialectic, a method of discussion involving ever more
profound insights into the nature of reality, and by cognitive optimism, a belief in
the capacity of the human mind to attain the truth and to use this truth for the
rational and virtuous ordering of human affairs. Plato believes that conflicting
interests of different parts of society can be harmonized. The best, rational and
righteous, political order, which he proposes, leads to a harmonious unity of society
and allows each of its parts to flourish, but not at the expense of others. The
theoretical design and practical implementation of such order, he argues, are
impossible without virtue.

1. Life – from Politics to Philosophy

Plato was born in Athens in c. 427 B.C.E. Until his mid-twenties, Athens was
involved in a long and disastrous military conflict with Sparta, known as the
Peloponnesian War. Coming from a distinguished family – on his father‘s side
descending from Codrus, one of the early kings of Athens, and on his mother‘s side
from Solon, the prominent reformer of the Athenian constitution – he was naturally
destined to take an active role in political life. But this never happened. Although
cherishing the hope of assuming a significant place in his political community, he
found himself continually thwarted. As he relates in his autobiographical Seventh
Letter, he could not identify himself with any of the contending political parties or
the succession of corrupt regimes, each of which brought Athens to further decline
(324b-326a). He was a pupil of Socrates, whom he considered the most just man of
his time, and who, although did not leave any writings behind, exerted a large
influence on philosophy. It was Socrates who, in Cicero‘s words, ―called down
philosophy from the skies.‖ The pre-Socratic philosophers were mostly interested
in cosmology and ontology; Socrates‘ concerns, in contrast, were almost
exclusively moral and political issues. In 399 when a democratic court voted by a
large majority of its five hundred and one jurors for Socrates‘ execution on an unjust
charge of impiety, Plato came to the conclusion that all existing governments were
bad and almost beyond redemption. ―The human race will have no respite from
evils until those who are really philosophers acquire political power or until,
through some divine dispensation, those who rule and have political authority in the
cities become real philosophers‖ (326a-326b).
It was perhaps because of this opinion that he retreated to his Academy and to
Sicily for implementing his ideas. He visited Syracuse first in 387, then in 367, and
again in 362-361, with the general purpose to moderate the Sicilian tyrants with
philosophical education and to establish a model political rule. But this adventure
with practical politics ended in failure, and Plato went back to Athens. His
Academy, which provided a base for succeeding generations of Platonic
philosophers until its final closure in C.E. 529, became the most famous teaching
institution of the Hellenistic world. Mathematics, rhetoric, astronomy, dialectics,
and other subjects, all seen as necessary for the education of philosophers and
statesmen, were studied there. Some of Plato‘s pupils later became leaders,
mentors, and constitutional advisers in Greek city-states. His most renowned pupil
was Aristotle. Plato died in c. 347 B.C.E. During his lifetime, Athens turned away
from her military and imperial ambitions and became the intellectual center of
Greece. She gave host to all the four major Greek philosophical schools founded in
the course of the fourth century: Plato‘s Academy, Aristotle‘s Lyceum, and the
Epicurean and Stoic schools.

2. The Threefold Task of Political Philosophy

Although the Republic, the Statesman, the Laws and a few shorter dialogues are
considered to be the only strictly political dialogues of Plato, it can be argued that
political philosophy was the area of his greatest concern. In the English-speaking
world, under the influence of twentieth century analytic philosophy, the main task of
political philosophy today is still often seen as conceptual analysis: the clarification
of political concepts. To understand what this means, it may be useful to think of
concepts as the uses of words. When we use general words, such as ―table,‖
―chair,‖ ―pen,‖ or political terms, such as ―state,‖ ―power,‖ ―democracy,‖ or
―freedom,‖ by applying them to different things, we understand them in a certain
way, and hence assign to them certain meanings. Conceptual analysis then is a
mental clearance, the clarification of a concept in its meaning. As such it has a long
tradition and is first introduced in Platonic dialogues. Although the results are
mostly inconclusive, in ―early‖ dialogues especially, Socrates tries to define and
clarify various concepts. However, in contrast to what it is for some analytic
philosophers, for Plato conceptual analysis is not an end to itself, but a preliminary
step. The next step is critical evaluation of beliefs, deciding which one of the
incompatible ideas is correct and which one is wrong. For Plato, making decisions
about the right political order are, along with the choice between peace and war,
the most important choices one can make in politics. Such decisions cannot be left
solely to public opinion, he believes, which in many cases does not have enough
foresight and gets its lessons only post factum from disasters recorded in history. In
his political philosophy, the clarification of concepts is thus a preliminary step in
evaluating beliefs, and right beliefs in turn lead to an answer to the question of the
best political order. The movement from conceptual analysis, through evaluation of
beliefs, to the best political order can clearly be seen in the structure of
Plato‘s Republic.
3. The Quest for Justice in The Republic
One of the most fundamental ethical and political concepts is justice. It is a complex
and ambiguous concept. It may refer to individual virtue, the order of society, as
well as individual rights in contrast to the claims of the general social order. In Book
I of the Republic, Socrates and his interlocutors discuss the meaning of justice. Four
definitions that report how the word ―justice‖ (dikaiosune) is actually used, are
offered. The old man of means Cephalus suggests the first definition. Justice is
―speaking the truth and repaying what one has borrowed‖ (331d). Yet this
definition, which is based on traditional moral custom and relates justice to honesty
and goodness; i.e. paying one‘s debts, speaking the truth, loving one‘s country,
having good manners, showing proper respect for the gods, and so on, is found to
be inadequate. It cannot withstand the challenge of new times and the power of
critical thinking. Socrates refutes it by presenting a counterexample. If we tacitly
agree that justice is related to goodness, to return a weapon that was borrowed
from someone who, although once sane, has turned into a madman does not seem
to be just but involves a danger of harm to both sides. Cephalus‘ son Polemarchus,
who continues the discussion after his father leaves to offer a sacrifice, gives his
opinion that the poet Simonides was correct in saying that it was just ―to render to
each his due‖ (331e). He explains this statement by defining justice as ―treating
friends well and enemies badly‖ (332d). Under the pressure of Socrates‘ objections
that one may be mistaken in judging others and thus harm good people,
Polemarchus modifies his definition to say that justice is ―to treat well a friend who
is good and to harm an enemy who is bad‖ (335a). However, when Socrates finally
objects that it cannot be just to harm anyone, because justice cannot produce
injustice, Polemarchus is completely confused. He agrees with Socrates that justice,
which both sides tacitly agree relates to goodness, cannot produce any harm, which
can only be caused by injustice. Like his father, he withdraws from the dialogue.
The careful reader will note that Socrates does not reject the definition of justice
implied in the saying of Simonides, who is called a wise man, namely, that ―justice
is rendering to each what befits him‖ (332b), but only its explication given by
Polemarchus. This definition is, nevertheless, found unclear.
The first part of Book I of the Republic ends in a negative way, with parties agreeing
that none of the definitions provided stands up to examination and that the original
question ―What is justice?‖ is more difficult to answer than it seemed to be at the
outset. This negative outcome can be seen as a linguistic and philosophical therapy.
Firstly, although Socrates‘ objections to given definitions can be challenged, it is
shown, as it stands, that popular opinions about justice involve inconsistencies.
They are inconsistent with other opinions held to be true. The reportive definitions
based on everyday usage of the word ―justice‖ help us perhaps to understand
partially what justice means, but fail to provide a complete account of what is
justice. These definitions have to be supplied by a definition that will assist clarity
and establish the meaning of justice. However, to propose such an adequate
definition one has to know what justice really is. The way people define a given
word is largely determined by the beliefs which they hold about the thing referred
to by this word. A definition that is merely arbitrary or either too narrow or too
broad, based on a false belief about justice, does not give the possibility of
communication. Platonic dialogues are expressions of the ultimate communication
that can take place between humans; and true communication is likely to take place
only if individuals can share meanings of the words they use. Communication based
on false beliefs, such as statements of ideology, is still possible, but seems limited,
dividing people into factions, and, as history teaches us, can finally lead only to
confusion. The definition of justice as ―treating friends well and enemies badly‖ is
for Plato not only inadequate because it is too narrow, but also wrong because it is
based on a mistaken belief of what justice is, namely, on the belief grounded in
factionalism, which Socrates does not associate with the wise ones but with tyrants
(336a). Therefore, in the Republic, as well as in other Platonic dialogues, there is a
relationship between conceptual analysis and critical evaluation of beliefs. The
goals of these conversations are not merely linguistic, to arrive at an adequate
verbal definition, but also substantial, to arrive at a right belief. The question ―what
is justice‖ is not only about linguistic usage of the word ―justice,‖ but primarily
about the thing to which the word refers. The focus of the second part of Book I is no
longer clarification of concepts, but evaluation of beliefs.
In Platonic dialogues, rather than telling them what they have to think, Socrates is
often getting his interlocutors to tell him what they think. The next stage of the
discussion of the meaning of justice is taken over by Thrasymachus, a sophist, who
violently and impatiently bursts into the dialogue. In the fifth and fourth century
B.C.E., the sophists were paid teachers of rhetoric and other practical skills, mostly
non-Athenians, offering courses of instruction and claiming to be best qualified to
prepare young men for success in public life. Plato describes the sophists as
itinerant individuals, known for their rhetorical abilities, who reject religious beliefs
and traditional morality, and he contrasts them with Socrates, who as a teacher
would refuse to accept payment and instead of teaching skills would commit
himself to a disinterested inquiry into what is true and just. In a contemptuous
manner, Thrasymachus asks Socrates to stop talking nonsense and look into the
facts. As a clever man of affairs, he gives an answer to the question of ―what is
justice‖ by deriving justice from the city‘s configuration of power and making it
relative to the interests of the dominant social or political group. ―Justice is nothing
else than the interest of the stronger‖ (338c). Now, by contrast to what some
commentators say, the statement that Thrasymachus offers as an answer to Socrates‘
question about justice is not a definition. The careful reader will notice that
Thrasymachus identifies justice with either maintenance or observance of law. His
statement is an expression of his belief that, in the world imperfect as it is, the ruling
element in the city, or as we would say today the dominant political or social group,
institutes laws and governs for its own benefit (338d). The democrats make laws in
support of democracy; the aristocrats make laws that support the government of the
well-born; the propertied make laws that protect their status and keep their
businesses going; and so on. This belief implies, firstly, that justice is not a
universal moral value but a notion relative to expediency of the dominant status quo
group; secondly, that justice is in the exclusive interest of the dominant group;
thirdly, that justice is used as a means of oppression and thus is harmful to the
powerless; fourthly, that there is neither any common good nor harmony of
interests between those who are in a position of power and those who are not. All
there is, is a domination by the powerful and privileged over the powerless. The
moral language of justice is used merely instrumentally to conceal the interests of
the dominant group and to make these interests appear universal. The powerful
―declare what they have made – what is to their own advantage – to be just‖ (338e).
The arrogance with which Thrasymachus makes his statements suggests that he
strongly believes that to hold a different view from his own would be to mislead
oneself about the world as it is.

After presenting his statement, Thrasymachus intends to leave as if he believed that

what he said was so compelling that no further debate about justice was ever
possible (344d). In the Republic he exemplifies the power of a dogma. Indeed he
presents Socrates with a powerful challenge. Yet, whether or not what he said
sounds attractive to anyone, Socrates is not convinced by the statement of his
beliefs. Beliefs shape our lives as individuals, nations, ages, and civilizations.
Should we really believe that ―justice [obeying laws] is really the good of another,
the advantage of the stronger and the ruler, harmful to the one who obeys, while
injustice [disobeying laws] is in one‘s own advantage‖ (343c)? The discussion
between Socrates and his interlocutors is no longer about the meaning of ―justice.‖
It is about fundamental beliefs and ―concerns no ordinary topic but the way we
ought to live‖ (352d). Although in Book I Socrates finally succeeds in showing
Thrasymachus that his position is self-contradictory and Thrasymachus withdraws
from the dialogue, perhaps not fully convinced, yet red-faced, in Book II
Thrasymachus‘ argument is taken over by two young intellectuals, Plato‘s brothers,
Glaucon and Adeimantus, who for the sake of curiosity and a playful intellectual
exercise push it to the limit (358c-366d). Thrasymachus withdraws, but his
statement: moral skepticism and relativism, predominance of power in human
relations, and non-existence of the harmony of interests, hovers over the Western
mind. It takes whole generations of thinkers to struggle with Thrasymachus‘ beliefs,
and the debate still continues. It takes the whole remainder of the Republic to
present an argument in defense of justice as a universal value and the foundation of
the best political order.
4. The Best Political Order
Although large parts of the Republic are devoted to the description of an ideal state
ruled by philosophers and its subsequent decline, the chief theme of the dialogue is
justice. It is fairly clear that Plato does not introduce his fantastical political
innovation, which Socrates describes as a city in speech, a model in heaven, for the
purpose of practical implementation (592a-b). The vision of the ideal state is used
rather to illustrate the main thesis of the dialogue that justice, understood
traditionally as virtue and related to goodness, is the foundation of a good political
order, and as such is in everyone‘s interest. Justice, if rightly understood, Plato
argues, is not to the exclusive advantage of any of the city‘s factions, but is
concerned with the common good of the whole political community, and is to the
advantage of everyone. It provides the city with a sense of unity, and thus, is a basic
condition for its health. ―Injustice causes civil war, hatred, and fighting, while
justice brings friendship and a sense of common purpose‖ (351d). In order to
understand further what justice and political order are for Plato, it is useful to
compare his political philosophy with the pre-philosophical insights of Solon, who is
referred to in a few dialogues. Biographical information about Plato is fairly scarce.
The fact that he was related through his mother to this famous Athenian legislator,
statesman and poet, regarded as one of the ―Seven Sages,‖ may be treated as
merely incidental. On the other hand, taking into consideration that in Plato‘s times
education would have been passed on to children informally at home, it seems
highly probable that Plato was not only well acquainted with the deeds and ideas of
Solon, but that these deeply influenced him.
The essence of the constitutional reform which Solon made in 593 B.C.E., over one
hundred and fifty years before Plato‘s birth, when he became the Athenian leader,
was the restoration of righteous order, eunomia. In the early part of the sixth
century Athens was disturbed by a great tension between two parties: the poor and
the rich, and stood at the brink of a fierce civil war. On the one hand, because of an
economic crisis, many poorer Athenians were hopelessly falling into debt, and
since their loans were often secured by their own persons, thousands of them were
put into serfdom. On the other hand, lured by easy profits from loans, the rich stood
firmly in defense of private property and their ancient privileges. The partisan
strife, which seemed inevitable, would make Athens even more weak economically
and defenseless before external enemies. Appointed as a mediator in this conflict,
Solon enacted laws prohibiting loans on the security of the person. He lowered the
rate of interest, ordered the cancellation of all debts, and gave freedom to serfs. He
acted so moderately and impartially that he became unpopular with both parties.
The rich felt hurt by the reform. The poor, unable to hold excess in check,
demanded a complete redistribution of landed property and the dividing of it into
equal shares. Nevertheless, despite these criticisms from both sides, Solon
succeeded in gaining social peace. Further, by implementing new constitutional
laws, he set up a ―mighty shield against both parties and did not allow either to win
an unjust victory‖ (Aristotle, The Athenian Constitution). He introduced a system of
checks and balances which would not favor any side, but took into consideration
legitimate interests of all social groups. In his position, he could easily have
become the tyrant over the city, but he did not seek power for himself. After he
completed his reform, he left Athens in order to see whether it would stand the test
of time, and returned to his country only ten years later. Even though in 561
Pisistratus seized power and became the first in a succession of Athenian tyrants,
and in 461 the democratic leader Ephialtes abolished the checks upon popular
sovereignty, Solon‘s reform provided the ancient Greeks with a model of both
political leadership and order based on impartiality and fairness. Justice for Solon is
not an arithmetical equality: giving equal shares to all alike irrespective of merit,
which represents the democratic concept of distributive justice, but it is equity or
fairness based on difference: giving shares proportionate to the merit of those who
receive them. The same ideas of political order, leadership, and justice can be
found in Plato‘s dialogues.
For Plato, like for Solon, the starting point for the inquiry about the best political
order is the fact of social diversity and conflicting interests, which involve the
danger of civil strife. The political community consists of different parts or social
classes, such as the noble, the rich, and the poor, each representing different
values, interests, and claims to rule. This gives rise to the controversy of who should
rule the community, and what is the best political system. In both the Republic and
the Laws, Plato asserts not only that factionalism and civil war are the greatest
dangers to the city, more dangerous even than war against external enemies, but
also that peace obtained by the victory of one part and the destruction of its rivals is
not to be preferred to social peace obtained through the friendship and
cooperation of all the city‘s parts (Republic 462a-b, Laws 628a-b). Peace for Plato is,
unlike for Marxists and other radical thinkers, not a status quo notion, related to the
interest of the privileged group, but a value that most people usually desire. He
does not stand for war and the victory of one class, but for peace in social diversity.
―The best is neither war nor faction – they are things we should pray to be spared
from – but peace and mutual good will‖ (628c). Building on the pre-philosophical
insights of Solon and his concept of balancing conflicting interests, in both
the Republic and the Laws, Plato offers two different solutions to the same problem
of social peace based on the equilibrium and harmonious union of different social
classes. If in the Republic it is the main function of the political leadership of
philosopher-rulers to make the civil strife cease, in the Laws this mediating function
is taken over by laws. The best political order for Plato is that which promotes social
peace in the environment of cooperation and friendship among different social
groups, each benefiting from and each adding to the common good. The best form
of government, which he advances in the Republic, is a philosophical aristocracy or
monarchy, but that which he proposes in his last dialogue the Laws is a traditional
polity: the mixed or composite constitution that reconciles different partisan
interests and includes aristocratic, oligarchic, and democratic elements.
5. The Government of Philosopher Rulers
It is generally believed today that democracy, ―government of the people by the
people and for the people,‖ is the best and only fully justifiable political system.
The distinct features of democracy are freedom and equality. Democracy can be
described as the rule of the free people who govern themselves, either directly or
though their representatives, in their own interest. Why does Plato not consider
democracy the best form of government? In the Republic he criticizes the direct
and unchecked democracy of his time precisely because of its leading features
(557a-564a). Firstly, although freedom is for Plato a true value, democracy involves
the danger of excessive freedom, of doing as one likes, which leads to anarchy.
Secondly, equality, related to the belief that everyone has the right and equal
capacity to rule, brings to politics all kinds of power-seeking individuals, motivated
by personal gain rather than public good. Democracy is thus highly corruptible. It
opens gates to demagogues, potential dictators, and can thus lead to tyranny.
Hence, although it may not be applicable to modern liberal democracies, Plato‘s
main charge against the democracy he knows from the ancient Greek political
practice is that it is unstable, leading from anarchy to tyranny, and that it lacks
leaders with proper skill and morals. Democracy depends on chance and must be
mixed with competent leadership (501b). Without able and virtuous leaders, such
as Solon or Pericles, who come and go by chance, it is not a good form of
government. But even Pericles, who as Socrates says made people ―wilder‖ rather
than more virtuous, is considered not to be the best leader (Gorgias, 516c). If ruling
a state is a craft, indeed statecraft, Plato argues, then politics needs expert rulers,
and they cannot come to it merely by accident, but must be carefully selected and
prepared in the course of extensive training. Making political decisions requires
good judgment. Politics needs competence, at least in the form of today‘s civil
servants. Who then should the experts be and why? Why does Plato in
the Republic decide to hand the steering wheel of the state to philosophers?
In spite of the idealism with which he is usually associated, Plato is not politically
naive. He does not idealize, but is deeply pessimistic about human beings. Most
people, corrupted as they are, are for him fundamentally irrational, driven by their
appetites, egoistic passions, and informed by false beliefs. If they choose to be just
and obey laws, it is only because they lack the power to act criminally and are
afraid of punishment (Republic, 359a). Nevertheless, human beings are not vicious
by nature. They are social animals, incapable of living alone (369a-b). Living in
communities and exchanging products of their labor is natural for them, so that they
have capacities for rationality and goodness. Plato, as later Rousseau, believes that
once political society is properly ordered, it can contribute to the restoration of
morals. A good political order, good education and upbringing can produce ―good
natures; and [these] useful natures, who are in turn well educated, grow up even
better than their predecessors‖ (424a). Hence, there are in Plato such elements of
the idealistic or liberal world view as the belief in education and progress, and a
hope for a better future. The quality of human life can be improved if people learn
to be rational and understand that their real interests lie in harmonious cooperation
with one another, and not in war or partisan strife. However, unlike Rousseau, Plato
does not see the best social and political order in a democratic republic. Opinions
overcome truth in everyday life. Peoples‘ lives and the lives of communities are
shaped by the prevailing beliefs. If philosophers are those who can distinguish
between true and false beliefs, who love knowledge and are motivated by the
common good, and finally if they are not only master-theoreticians, but also the
master-practitioners who can heal the ills of their society, then they, and not
democratically elected representatives, must be chosen as leaders and educators
of the political community and guide it to proper ends. They are required to
counteract the destabilizing effects of false beliefs on society. Are philosophers
incorruptible? In the ideal city there are provisions to minimize possible corruption,
even among the good-loving philosophers. They can neither enjoy private property
nor family life. Although they are the rulers, they receive only a modest
remuneration from the state, dine in common dining halls, and have wives and
children in common. These provisions are necessary, Plato believes, because if the
philosopher-rulers were to acquire private land, luxurious homes, and money
themselves, they would soon become hostile masters of other citizens rather than
their leaders and allies (417a-b). The ideal city becomes a bad one, described
as timocracy, precisely when the philosophers neglect music and physical
exercise, and begin to gather wealth (547b).

Q.4 Make a critical analysis of Aristotle’s theory of form and matter. How does
this theory differ from the theory of Plato?
Answer:

Aristotle believes that all sensible substances can be analyzed into matter and
form, but such an analysis is not restricted to the things he calls substances. Matter
can itself be divided into matter and form: for instance, bricks are made of clay,
shaped into cuboid blocks. Again, clay has its own matter—mud, say—and so on.
Eventually, if one pursues this hierarchy of matter far enough downwards, Aristotle
believes that one will reach the four elements, earth, air, fire and water. He agrees
with Empedocles that everything in the sub-lunar world is ultimately made up of
different ratios of these four elements. Matter then should really be understood as a
relative notion—it is always the matter of something. Aristotle distinguishes
between a thing‘s proximate matter, the stuff it is most immediately made of, and its
less proximate matter, i.e., the matter of its matter, or even further down the
hierarchy, culminating in its ultimate matter, the elements. The organic body which
is a human being‘s proximate matter is essentially alive, but this need not apply to
all of the other matter further down the chain. Aristotle distinguishes between
homoiomerous and heteromerous parts (Parts of Animals i 1, 640b25–30).
Homoiomerous parts are stuffs, like bronze or flesh, which Aristotle believes have
no internal structure. Every part of a homoiomerous stuff is the same as every other
part, containing the same ratio of elements. This view of homoiomerous parts is
consistent with Aristotle‘s denial of atomism; he believes that matter, as well as
space and time, are infinitely divisible. The bodily organs, hands, feet, eyes, hearts,
etc., are heteromerous, since they do have internal structure, with different parts of
them made up of different stuffs. A person‘s hand, for instance, is made of flesh,
bones, blood and other such biological matter, which in turn are made of earth, air,
fire and water. It may be that flesh too is functionally defined, so that dead flesh is
only called ―flesh‖ homonymously as well. Even if nothing biological can exist
when not alive, it seems clear that the elements at least must be able to do so.
Therefore there will be some, low-level matter to serve as the thing that underlies
the coming to be and passing away of organisms, even though an organism‘s
proximate matter exists for precisely as long as it does.
2. Prime matter
One obvious question pertains to how low such underlying levels might go. In fact
there is considerable controversy concerning how to conceive the bottom rung of
Aristotle‘s hierarchy of matter. Aristotle believes that everything is made of earth,
air, fire and water. These elements are defined by their possession of one of each of
the two fundamental pairs of opposites, hot/cold and wet/dry. Aristotle also thinks
that these elements can change into one another (On the Heavens iii 6, 305a14–35).
If his analysis of change is correct, when some water changes into some air, there
must be something underlying, some substrate, which persists through the change,
initially having the essential properties of water (being wet and cold, on Aristotle‘s
view) and then later those of air (being wet and hot). The thing that underlies this
kind of change cannot be any of the elements, since it must be capable of
possessing the properties characteristic of each of the elements successively,
capable of being first cold and then hot, for example. The traditional interpretation
of Aristotle, which goes back as far as Augustine (De Genesi contra Manichaeos i 5–
7) and Simplicius (On Aristotle‘s Physics i 7), and is accepted by Aquinas (De
Principiis Naturae §13), holds that Aristotle believes in something called ―prime
matter‖, which is the matter of the elements, where each element is, then, a
compound of this matter and a form. This prime matter is usually described as pure
potentiality, just as, on the form side, the unmoved movers are said by Aristotle to
be pure actuality, form without any matter (Metaphysics xii 6). What it means to call
prime matter ―pure potentiality‖ is that it is capable of taking on any form
whatsoever, and thus is completely without any essential properties of its own. It
exists eternally, since, if it were capable of being created or destroyed, there
would have to be some even lower matter to underlie those changes. Because it is
the matter of the elements, which are themselves present in all more complex
bodies, it is omnipresent, and underlies not only elemental generation and
destruction, but all physical changes. As a completely indeterminate substratum,
prime matter bears some similarities to what modern philosophy has called a ―bare
particular‖ (see Sider 2006), although, not being a particular, it may have more in
common with so-called ―gunk‖ (see Sider 1993).
A similar idea is to be found in Plato‘s Timaeus, 49–52, where, in addition to his
Forms and the particulars which instantiate them, he argues for the existence of a
third category of thing, ―a receptacle of all coming to be‖ (49a5–6):
it must always be called by the same term. For it does not depart from its own
character at all. It both continually receives all things, and has never taken on a
form similar to any of the things that enter it in any way. For it is laid down by nature
as a recipient of impressions for everything, being changed and formed variously
by the things that enter it, and because of them it appears different at different
times. (50b6–c4)
Plato also motivates his receptacle by appealing to the phenomenon of the
elements changing into one another, and, although he refers to it as ―space‖ and
not ―matter‖, the traditional interpretation has it that, as he often does, Aristotle has
adopted an idea first developed by his mentor.
More recently, opponents of attributing a doctrine of prime matter to Aristotle have
complained that there is insufficient evidence for his holding this kind of view, and
that it is so philosophically unappealing that principles of charity militate against it
as an interpretation. Such scholars point out that Aristotle actually criticizes Plato‘s
account from the Timaeus, in On Generation and Corruption ii 1:
what Plato has written in the Timaeus is not based on any precisely-articulated
conception. For he has not stated clearly whether his ―Omnirecipient‖ exists in
separation from the elements; nor does he make any use of it. (329a13–15)
Although Aristotle is clearly criticizing Plato here, it may be that his point is simply
that Plato was not sufficiently clear that prime matter is never to be found existing
apart from the elements, and that he did not give good enough reasons for its
introduction, not that he was wrong to believe in it.
Nature is prime matter (and this in two ways, either prime in relation to the thing or
prime in general; for example, in the case of bronze works the bronze is prime in
relation to them, but prime in general would be perhaps water, if everything that
can be melted is water). (1015a7–10)
Here Aristotle is referring to his predecessor Thales‘ view that everything is
ultimately made of water, which he in fact rejects.
In other passages too Aristotle seems to leave the question of whether or not there
is prime matter deliberately open. In Metaphysics ix 7, he uses a conditional to talk
about the possibility:
it seems that what we call not this, but that-en—for example, we call the box not
wood, but wooden, nor do we call the wood earth, but earthen, and again earth, if it
is this way, we do not call something else, but that-en—that is always potentially
without qualification the next thing…But if there is something primary, which is no
longer called that-en with respect to something else, this is prime matter. For
example, if earth is airy, and air is not fire but firey, fire is prime matter, being a
this. (1049a18–22…24–27)
Here Aristotle uses the generic adjective ―that-en‖ (ekeininon), a word that he
coins, to mean made of that material. If a material could not be so described, it
would be prime matter. Again, he shows himself aware of prime matter as a
possibility, without wanting to commit to it here.
Another key passage where Aristotle has been thought to commit himself more
decisively to prime matter is Metaphysics vii 3. Here we are told:
By ―matter‖ I mean that which in itself is not called a substance nor a quantity nor
anything else by which being is categorized. For it is something of which each of
these things is predicated, whose being is different from each of its predicates (for
the others are predicated of substance, and substance is predicated of matter).
Therefore this last is in itself neither substance nor quantity nor anything else. Nor
is it the denials of any of these; for even denials belong to things accidentally.
(1029a20–26)
Although the word ―prime‖ does not occur here, Aristotle is evidently talking about
prime matter. A natural way to read this passage is that he is saying there is a
wholly indeterminate underlying thing, which he calls ―matter‖, and it is not a
substance. Those who wish to avoid attributing a doctrine of prime matter to
Aristotle must offer a different interpretation: that if we were to make the mistake of
regarding matter, as opposed to form, as substance, we would be committed
(absurdly) to the existence of a wholly indeterminate underlying thing.
In addition to disputing the correct interpretation of these passages where Aristotle
explicitly mentions prime matter, much of the debate has centered around, on the
one hand, whether what he says about change really commits him to it, on the other,
whether the idea is really absurd. Some opponents of prime matter have argued
that Aristotle does not, after all, wish to insist that there is always something which
persists through a change (see Charlton 1970, Appendix, and 1983). In particular,
when one of the elements changes into another, there is an underlying thing—the
initial element—but in this case it does not persist. They point out that in the key
passage of Physics i 7, where Aristotle gives his account of change in general, he
uses the expressions ―underlying thing‖ and ―thing that remains‖. While readers
have usually supposed that these terms are used interchangeably to refer to the
substance, in cases of accidental change, and the matter in substantial changes, this
assumption can be challenged. In the elemental generation case, perhaps there is
no thing that remains, just an initial elements that underlies. The worry about this
interpretation is whether it is consistent with Aristotle‘s belief that nothing can come
to be out of nothing. If there is no ―thing that remains‖ in a case of elemental
generation, how is an instance of water changing into air to be distinguished from
the supposedly impossible sort of change whereby some water vanishes into
nothing, and is instantly replaced by some air which has materialized out of
nothing?
The main philosophical objections to prime matter are that it is, at best, a
mysterious entity that we cannot know anything about, since we never perceive it
directly, but only the things it underlies. Of course, there can be good theoretical
reasons for believing in things that we never actually see. No one has ever seen a
quark, but we can still know things about them, based on the kind of theoretical
work that they are required to perform. Still, Aristotle‘s theory will be more
parsimonious, if he can manage without positing such theoretical entities. At worst,
prime matter is said to be outright contradictory. It is supposed to be capable of
taking on any form whatsoever, and thus to have no essential properties of its own.
The idea that it has no essential properties of its own seems to make it difficult for us
to characterize it positively in any way: how can it be invisible, or eternal, or the
ultimate bearer of properties, if these are not properties that belong to it
essentially? Moreover, if it is what ultimately underlies all properties, it seems that
it must be able to take on properties that are inconsistent with what we would like to
be able to think of as its own nature: when Socrates turns blue, there is also some
prime matter that underlies him, which also turns blue. But how can prime matter
be simultaneous invisible and blue? To get around these problems, it looks as
though proponents of prime matter will have to distinguish between two different
kinds of property that prime matter has, or perhaps two different ways in which it
has properties. There are its essential properties, which define the kind of entity
that it is, and which it has permanently, and then there are its accidental properties,
which it gains and loses as it underlies different sorts of thing. A worry about this
solution is, if one can distinguish between the prime matter and its essential
properties, this might suggest that there is a need for a further entity to act as the
underlying thing for those properties, and then this further entity would need to
have its own nature, and something to underlie that nature, and so on. It seems best
to try to avoid such an infinite regress by insisting that prime matter can underlie its
own essential properties, without being a compound of those properties and some
further matter.
3. The principle of individuation
Another reason that some scholars have thought that Aristotle needs something like
prime matter is to serve as a so-called ―principle of individuation‖. While the
predominant view has been that this role is reserved for matter, other scholars have
maintained either that Aristotle means it to be form, or that he does not see the need
for a principle of individuation at all. Some of this controversy seems to have
resulted from a failure to be clear about what a principle of individuation is, or what
problem it is supposed to solve.
To see why this is so, one may focus on a controversy about individuation which
Popper sought to dissolve, by pointing out that it derived from a false opposition.
This was a controversy begotten by a disagreement between Anscombe and
Lukasiewicz regarding the principle of individuation in Aristotle (see Anscombe et
al. 1953). Popper points out that their disagreement is only apparent, due to the fact
that they are answering different questions: Lukasiewicz insists that form should be
counted as the ―source of individuality‖ because it explains how a thing with many
parts is a single individual and not a plurality, it accounts for the unity of
individuals. He has in mind questions like ―How do all these bricks constitute a
single house?‖ or ―What makes this collection of flesh and bones Socrates?‖, and
here Aristotle does indeed appear to make use of form. On the other hand,
Anscombe says that it is matter which makes an individual the individual it is,
numerically distinct from other individuals of the same (and other) species. Yet this
is an issue about numerical distinctness rather than unity. It is perfectly consistent to
say that Socrates is one man because of his form, which unifies his matter into a
single whole, and he is a numerically distinct individual from Callias because his
matter is numerically distinct from Callias‘ matter.
It has become conventional to call an answer to Lukasiewicz‘s problem a principle
of unity, and an answer to Anscombe‘s problem a principle of individuation. The
traditional view has been that individuation is a metaphysical issue: what is it that
makes one individual different from another (of the same kind)? However, some
scholars have argued that Aristotle at no point addresses this issue, but is instead
concerned with the epistemological question of how we tell one individual from
another (see Charlton 1972).
It is worth considering why one might think that the metaphysical issue is not worth
pursuing. The obvious reason is if one thought that there was no answer to the
question ―what makes this individual numerically distinct from that one?‖—that
nothing makes them distinct, they just are. An advocate of this view might point out
that even if we accept that matter is what makes this individual distinct from that
one, we still have no answer to the question ―what makes this portion of matter
numerically distinct from that one?‖. There will always be certain of these
numerical distinctness facts that remain unexplained on any theory. But if
explanation has to stop somewhere, why not stop at the beginning? Why not just say
that it is a bare fact that Socrates is numerically distinct from Callias, and leave
matter out of it?
One might think that one could respond to this argument by insisting that there is an
answer to the question what makes Socrates‘ matter numerically distinct from
Callias‘ matter: it is the matter itself. If matter can explain the distinctness of
individual substances, why should it not also explain its own distinctness from other
matter? Whether or not this move is legitimate will depend on which facts are and
which facts are not in need of explanation but may correctly be assumed to be
primitive. The problem is that ―this matter is distinct from that matter because it is
this matter‖ seems to be a very similar sort of explanation to ―Socrates is distinct
from Callias because he is Socrates‖—both are cases of x explaining its own
distinctness from y. Either both should count as adequate explanations or neither
should. But the advocate of matter as principle of individuation adopted this view
precisely because she found this sort of explanation unsatisfactory, or not an
explanation at all. Therefore this response does not seem to be open to her.
It seems that those who are committed to there being something which accounts for
the numerical distinctness of individuals must say that there is nothing that accounts
for the numerical distinctness of the distinctness-makers. The only alternative would
be to introduce some further thing to account for their distinctness, and so on; but
this results in an infinite regress, which, as well as being ontologically bloated,
appears to be vicious, since we can never grasp the full account of what makes
Socrates and Callias distinct. Both sides agree that explanation must stop
somewhere, but they differ over where it is appropriate to stop: is it a basic,
inexplicable fact that Socrates is numerically distinct from Callias, or that their
matter is distinct? (See Markosian 2008, §8, for a contemporary discussion of this
question.) At any rate, even if it is difficult to prove that there is an important
metaphysical question here, the traditional interpretation of Aristotle is that he
thinks there is.
There are two main texts which have been thought to show Aristotle advancing the
view that matter is the principle of individuation: Metaphysics v 6, 1016b31–2, and
vii 8, 1034a5–8. In the first of these, we are told:
Moreover, some things are one in number, some in form, some in genus, some by
analogy; in number those whose matter is one…
According to the traditional interpretation, here we have the claim that x and y are
numerically identical (or ―one in number‖) if, and only if, they have the same matter
(or the matter of x is ―one‖ with the matter of y). An alternative reading takes this
passage to be about unity rather than individuation: Aristotle would be saying
that x is numerically one if and only if x‘s matter is one, where a thing‘s matter
being ―one‖ means that it is one continuous piece (of bone, for example).
The second important passage for detecting Aristotle‘s views about individuation
comes at vii 8, 1034a5–8:
And when we have the whole, a form of such a kind in this flesh and in these bones,
this is Callias or Socrates; and they are different in virtue of their matter (for that is
different), but the same in form, for their form is indivisible.
According to the traditional interpretation, these lines are saying that Socrates and
Callias are numerically distinct because of their matter, not their form, and on the
face of it this is the clearest example of Aristotle affirming that matter is the
principle of individuation. We can adopt an alternative reading, however, if we
suppose that ―different‖ means not numerically distinct, but qualitatively different.
In that case, the passage could be making an epistemological claim about how we
discern Socrates and Callias: suppose Callias is pale and Socrates dark; they are
different, but not different in form; they differ because of their matter, since pallor
and darkness primarily qualify their skin, i.e., part of their body.
There is a difficulty for the idea that matter can act as the principle of individuation,
which arises out of the following problem that can be raised for Aristotle‘s
hylomorphism (see Fine 1994). It seems that two substances, e.g., Socrates and
Callias, may have numerically the same matter at different times; that it is possible
(however unlikely) for all and only the particular elements that now compose
Socrates to end up composing Callias at some later date. In such a case, Socrates
and Callias would have the same matter, albeit at different times. Moreover, both
being human beings, they would have the same form. But they themselves are
compounds of matter and form, so if their matter and form are numerically the
same, they must themselves be numerically the same.
Put schematically, the argument looks like this:

1. It is possible that Socrates and Callias be composed of numerically the same

matter (albeit at different times).
2. Socrates and Callias have the same form.
3. Socrates and Callias are compounds of matter and form.
4. Therefore, it is possible that Socrates and Callias are numerically the same.
Of course two different people cannot be numerically the same. So, if the argument
is valid, at least one of its premises must be false.
One possible rejoinder to this argument is that it turns on an equivocation in the
meaning of ―matter‖. As we have seen, for Aristotle matter comes in different
levels. In the situation envisaged Socrates and Callias would have the same remote
or low-level matter (the same elements) but they might still have different
proximate matter, since the proximate matter of a human being is his body. Since a
substance is a compound of a substantial form and some proximate matter, we are
not entitled to conclude that Socrates and Callias are the same. Although this may
be an effective way of dealing with the initial problem, it can be restated so as to
avoid this objection that the argument equivocates on ―matter‖. Each level of matter
is a compound of the matter at the level immediately below it and a form. If the
proximate matter of two things is to be different, despite their lower-level matter
being the same, the reason must be that the forms of the proximate matters are
different. We can redescribe the situation so that not only are Socrates‘ and Callias‘
forms the same, but the forms of their bodies are also the same, and the forms of the
matter of their bodies, and so on all the way down. Although it is unclear what in
general is required for the matter of two things of the same form to have the same
form, e.g., for Socrates‘ and Callias‘ bodies to have the same form, it seems
reasonable to suppose that it is sufficient for two things to have the same form that
they be qualitatively the same. So we can ensure that Socrates‘ and Callias‘ matters
have the same form, if we suppose that they are qualitatively the same. One might
insist that no two things are qualitatively the same, but there is little reason to think
that Aristotle is committed to Leibniz‘s doctrine of the identity of indiscernibles.
What is more, although strict qualitative identity, i.e., having all the same non-
relational and relational properties, may require demanding metaphysical
assumptions such as an eternally cyclic universe, probably all that is required is
that there be no relevant qualitative difference between Socrates and Callias,
where ―relevant‖ means such as to result in them or their matter having different
forms. While one might insist that two things must be qualitatively the same to have
the same form, this also does not seem to be Aristotle‘s view. So if we tailor our
example to this requirement, we can thwart the charge of equivocation. The
argument then is valid, so we must choose one of its premises to reject.
One might try to reject the first premise of the argument, on the grounds that a
person‘s matter is essential to them. We have seen that Aristotle plausibly does
believe this about a person‘s proximate matter—their body—since a dead body is
only homonymously a ―body‖. Nevertheless, he is committed to their more remote
matter—the elements that make them up, for instance—being capable of existing
independently of them. He needs there to be something to underlie the change
whereby a substance comes into or goes out of existence, to make it consistent with
his account of change in general in Physics i 7. There seems to be no reason to deny
that, when a tree, for instance, dies, the earth, air, fire and water that constituted it
still exist in the dead stump. But, if so, there seems no reason to think they could not
leave the stump, and end up becoming the matter of some new tree. This is all that
is needed for the problem to arise. Prime matter, if it exists, will not help: if the
elements are allowed to escape the substances that they underlie, it seems that the
prime matter that underlies them should also be capable of doing so. It is supposed
to be capable of underlying anything; so insisting that it is confined to being the
prime matter of a particular sort of thing makes no sense.
Differences in Contributions
In Philosophy
Plato believed that concepts had a universal form, an ideal form, which leads to
his idealistic philosophy. Aristotle believed that universal forms were not
necessarily attached to each object or concept, and that each instance of an
object or a concept had to be analyzed on its own. This viewpoint leads to
Aristotelian Empiricism. For Plato, thought experiments and reasoning would be
enough to "prove" a concept or establish the qualities of an object, but Aristotle
dismissed this in favor of direct observation and experience.
 In logic, Plato was more inclined to use inductive reasoning, whereas Aristotle
used deductive reasoning. The syllogism, a basic unit of logic (if A = B, and B =
C, then A = C), was developed by Aristotle.
Both Aristotle and Plato believed thoughts were superior to the senses.
However, whereas Plato believed the senses could fool a person, Aristotle
stated that the senses were needed in order to properly determine reality.
An example of this difference is the allegory of the cave, created by Plato. To
him, the world was like a cave, and a person would only see shadows cast from
the outside light, so the only reality would be thoughts. To the Aristotelian
method, the obvious solution is to walk out of the cave and experience what is
casting light and shadows directly, rather than relying solely on indirect or
internal experiences.

Q.5 What is the theory of categories propounded by Aristotle? How many of the
categories had been presented in this theory? Elaborate each category.

Answer:

. According to Aristotle, quantity divides into continuous and discrete quantities;

continuous quantity divides into line, surface, body, time, and place; and discrete
quantity divides into number and speech (4b20–23). Hence, we have the following
genus/species structure:

 Quantity
o Continuous Quantities
 line
 surface
 body
 time
 place
o Discrete Quantities
 number
 speech
Like substance, quantity seems like a reasonable candidate for a highest kind —
quantities exist; quantities are not substances; substances are not quantities, and it
is not clear what kind would stand above quantity. So, Aristotle‘s decision to make
quantity a highest kind appears well motivated. Aristotle‘s treatment of quantity,
however, does raise some difficult questions.
Perhaps the most interesting question concerns the fact that some of the species in
quantity appear to be quantified things rather than quantities themselves. Consider,
for instance, body. In its most natural sense, ‗body‘ signifies bodies, which are not
quantities but rather things with quantities. The same is true of line, surface, place,
and arguably speech. Of course, there are quantities naturally associated with some
of these species. For instance, length, breadth, and depth are associated with line,
body, and surface. But Aristotle does not list these as the species under quantity. So,
in the first instance, we can ask: does Aristotle intend his division of Quantity to be a
division of quantities or quantified things?
The difficulties involved in Aristotle‘s list of species in the category of quantity can
be made more precise by noting that in several places he seems to commit himself
to the view that body is a species in the category of substance
(Top. 130b2, DC 2681–3, DA 434b12, Meta. 1079a31, 1069b38). And as I have drawn
the genus-species structure in the category of substance above, body is one of the
two species immediately under substance. Yet body also appears as a species
under the species Continuous Quantity. The difficulty arises because Aristotle is
committed to the view that no species can occur in both the category of substance
and in some other category. For, he thinks that a species in substance is said-of
primary substances while species in the other categories are not said-of primary
substances. Hence, any species in both substance and some accidental category
would be said-of and not said-of primary substance. Aristotle‘s list of species in the
Category of Quantity is thus not merely puzzling but seems to commit Aristotle to a
contradiction. So, a second question about Aristotle‘s category of quantity naturally
suggests itself: how can body be a species in both the category of quantity and the
category of substance? (Studtman 2002)
A number of other questions about Quantity could be asked. For instance,
Aristotle‘s treatment of quantity in the Metaphysics includes species not present in
his treatment in the Categories (Meta. 1020a7–34), which raises questions as to the
extent to which the set of doctrines in the Categories coheres with the doctrines in
his other physical and metaphysical works. Furthermore, questions about
Aristotle‘s views about the nature of some of the species in quantity arise. So, for
instance, to what does Aristotle think the species number corresponds? He surely
does not think that numbers exist apart from the material world. But then what
exactly does Aristotle think a number is? All we get for an answer from
the Categories is that number is a discrete quantity. But such an answer hardly
provides much of an understanding as to what Aristotle has precisely in mind.
Moreover, why does Aristotle include speech as a species in the category of
quantity? Speech hardly seems like a natural candidate for this category. Perhaps,
Aristotle has in mind the quantities of vowels and syllables of Greek words. But, if
anything, speech would seem to be some kind of vocal sound, which arguably is a
kind of affection. Each of these questions is interesting and worth pursuing. I shall
not, however, offer any answers to them here. Rather, I hope only to have illustrated
how deeply intriguing and yet difficult to pin down fully Aristotle‘s Categories is.
2.2.3 Relatives
After quantity, Aristotle discusses the category of relatives, which both
interpretively and philosophically raises even more difficulties than his discussion
of quantity. A contemporary philosopher might naturally think that this category
contains what we would nowadays call ‗relations‘. But this would be a mistake. The
name for the category is ta pros ti (τ ὰ πρ ό ς τ ι ), which literally means ‗things
toward something‘. In other words, Aristotle seems to be classifying not relations
but rather things in the world in so far as they are toward something else. It would
seem, however, that for Aristotle things are toward something else insofar as a
relational predicate applies to them. Aristotle says: Things are called ‗relative‘ if as
such they are said to be of something else or to be somehow referred to something
else. So, for instance, the greater, as such, is said to be of something else, for it is
said to be greater than something (6a36).
Perhaps the most straightforward reading of Aristotle‘s discussion is the following.
He noticed that certain predicates in language are logically incomplete — they are
not used in simple subject/predicate sentences of the form ‗a is F‘ but rather
require some type of completion. To say ‗three is greater‘ is to say something that is
incomplete — to complete it requires saying what three is greater than.
Nonetheless, Aristotle accepted a doctrine according to which properties in the
world always inhere in a single subject. In other words, although Aristotle
countenanced relational predicates, and though he certainly thought that objects in
the world are related to other objects, he did not accept relations as a genuine type
of entity. So, Aristotle‘s category of relatives is a kind of halfway house between the
linguistic side of relations, namely relational predicates, and the ontological side,
namely relations themselves.
For our purposes, we need not determine how to best interpret Aristotle‘s theory of
relatives, but can rather consider some issues that Aristotle‘s discussion raises.
First, anyone who is comfortable with relational properties will no doubt find
Aristotle‘s discussion somewhat confused. Although Aristotle does discuss
important features of relational predicates, for instance, that relational predicates
involve a kind of reciprocal reference (6b28), his fundamental stance, according to
which all properties in the world are non-relational, will appear wrongheaded.
Second, Aristotle‘s category of relatives raises interpretive issues, in particular the
issue concerning what exactly his categorical scheme is meant to classify. As in the
case of quantity, Aristotle seems to be focusing on things that are related rather
than relations themselves. Indeed, this is evident from the name of the category.
This latter fact, namely that in his discussion of relatives Aristotle seems focused on
related things rather than relations, places pressure on the easy characterization of
the categories that I discussed previously, namely that each category is a distinct
type of extra-linguistic entity. If that easy characterization were correct, Aristotle
should have countenanced some type of entity corresponding to relatives as a
highest kind. But he did not. Hence, it is tempting to shift to an interpretation
according to which Aristotle is after all focused on linguistically characterized
items. And perhaps he thinks that the world contains just a few basic types of entity
and that different types of predicates apply to the world in virtue of complex
semantic relations to just those types of entity. As it turns out, many commentators
have interpreted him in this way. But their interpretations face their own difficulties.
To raise just one, we can ask: what are the basic entities in the world if not just those
that fall under the various categories? Perhaps there is a way to answer this
question on Aristotle‘s behalf, but the answer is not clearly contained in his texts. So
again we are once again forced to admit just how difficult it is to pin down a precise
interpretation of Aristotle‘s work.
2.2.4 Quality
After relatives, Aristotle discusses the category of quality. Unlike quantity and
relatives, quality does not present any obvious difficulties for the interpretation
according to which the Categories classify basic types of entity. Aristotle divides
quality as follows (8b26–10a11):

 Quality
o Habits and Dispositions
o Natural Capabilities and Incapabilities
o Affective Qualities and Affections
o Shape
Each of these species looks like an extra-linguistic type of entity, and none of the
species appears to be a species in another category. Hence, any difficulties with
Aristotle‘s treatment of quality concern the appropriateness of the divisions he
makes rather than the extent to which the category fits into a larger interpretation of
the categorial scheme. But, as with just about everything in Aristotle‘s scheme, the
divisions he makes among qualities have been severely criticized. J.L. Ackrill, for
instance, criticizes Aristotle as follows:
He [Aristotle] gives no special argument to show that [habits and dispositions] are
qualities. Nor does he give any criterion for deciding that a given quality is or is not
a [habit-or-disposition]; why, for example, should affective qualities be treated as a
class quite distinct from [habits and dispositions]? (Ackrill 1963)
Ackrill finds Aristotle‘s division of quality at best unmotivated. And Ackrill, it would
seem, is being polite. Montgomery Furth has said: ‗I shall largely dispense with
questions like…the rationale (if there be one) for comprehending into a single
category the monstrous motley horde yclept Quality…‘ (Furth 1988).
It must be admitted, that Aristotle‘s list of the species in quality is at first blush a bit
odd. For instance, why should we consider any of the species listed as falling
directly under quality? Indeed, when Aristotle lists the species, he does not follow
his usual procedure and provide the differentiae that distinguish them. If there are
such differentiae, we should expect that habits and dispositions, for instance, can
be defined as such and such a quality. The same would of course be true for the
other qualities. But not only does Aristotle not provide these differentiae, but it is
also difficult to see what they might be. To appreciate the difficulty, one need only
ask: what differentia can be added to quality so as to define shape?
To be fair, Aristotle‘s category of quality has had its defenders. In fact, some of
those defenders have gone so far as to provide something of a deduction of the
species in the category from various metaphysical principles. Aquinas, for instance,
says the following about the category in his Summa Theologiae:
Now the mode of determination of the subject to accidental being may be taken in
regard to the very nature of the subject, or in regard to action, and passion
resulting from its natural principles, which are matter and form; or again in regard
to quantity. If we take the mode or determination of the subject in regard to
quantity, we shall then have the fourth species of quality. And because quantity,
considered in itself, is devoid of movement, and does not imply the notion of good
or evil, so it does not concern the fourth species of quality whether a thing be well
or ill disposed, nor quickly or slowly transitory.
But the mode of determination of the subject, in regard to action or passion, is
considered in the second and third species of quality. And therefore in both, we
take into account whether a thing be done with ease or difficulty; whether it be
transitory or lasting. But in them, we do not consider anything pertaining to the
notion of good or evil: because movements and passions have not the aspect of an
end, whereas good and evil are said in respect of an end.
On the other hand, the mode or determination of the subject, in regard to the nature
of the thing, belongs to the first species of quality, which is habit and disposition: for
the Philosopher says (Phys. vii, text. 17), when speaking of habits of the soul and of
the body, that they are ―dispositions of the perfect to the best; and by perfect I
mean that which is disposed in accordance with its nature.‖ And since the form
itself and the nature of a thing is the end and the cause why a thing is made (Phys. ii,
text. 25), therefore in the first species we consider both evil and good, and also
changeableness, whether easy or difficult; inasmuch as a certain nature is the end
of generation and movement.