Aristotle's Conception of Moral Weakness

Aristotle's Conception
of Moral Weakness
of Moral Weakness
James Jerome Walsh
Columbia University Press

New York and London
1963
The Stanwood Cockey Lodge Foundation
has generously provided funds
toward the cost of publication of this work.
Copyright © 1960 Columbia University Press

First published in book form 1963
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 62-17695
Manufactured in the United States of America
To my Mother
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
There are many debts of gratitude which I wish to record. This study
was completed during time made available for research through grants
by the Ford Foundation, the Samuel S. Fels Foundation, and
Columbia University. Publication has been made possible through the
generosity of the Stanwood Cockey Lodge Foundation. I can only
hope t h a t such consistent and generous support is justified in some
degree by this study.
To my teachers and colleagues I owe more than the usual gratitude
of the scholar. Professor James Gutmann and Professor Robert
Cumming provided stimulus and encouragement over a considerable
period of formless endeavor. Professor Albert Hofstadter helped
me through the difficulties of making a beginning and provided
thorough criticism, not all of it heeded, at the end. Professor Charles
Kahn, Professor Paul Kristeller, and Dr. Emerson Buchanan read
all or part of an earlier version of the manuscript and saved me from
not a few mistakes of interpretation. My debts to Professor John
H. Randall, Jr. and Professor Edwin Garlan are of a different order.
I owe to them not only a first meeting with the wisdom of Aristotle,
but also many hours of fruitful instruction and precious controversy
as to his meaning.
I should also like to thank Arlene Gutzeit for devotion beyond
the call of duty in typing the manuscript twice over, and Joan Teitel
of the Columbia University Press for a considerable improvement
of a wordy and laborious style. The passages from Cornford's trans-
lation of the Timaeus are used by permission of the Humanities Press.
Passages from the Loeb Classical Library, including Xenophon's
Memorabilia, Plato's Protagoras, Phaedo, Laws, Laches, Meno, Republic,
and Sophist, and Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, Eudemian Ethics,
and De Anima are reprinted by permission of Harvard University
Press and The Loeb Classical Library.
Vili ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Finally, I wish to acknowledge the help of my wife, not only for

the labors of all scholars' wives in coping with the mechanics of
manuscripts, but also for discussion of the issues involved. Her grasp
of the realities of moral life and her insistence on simplicity have
saved me more than once from total misapprehension of those issues.
After all this support and assistance, what misapprehensions may
remain, needless to say, are mine alone.
CONTENTS
Introduction 1
Chapter I. The Socratic Denial of Akrasia 4
Chapter II. The Development of Plato's Thought 28
Chapter III. Some Preliminary Questions 60
Chapter IV. Aristotle's Analysis of Akrasia 85
Chapter V. Interpretations of Aristotle's Doctrine 118
Chapter VI. Some Criticisms of Aristotle's Doctrine 159
Appendix. The Authorship of Chapter 3, Book vii of the
Nicomachean Ethics 183
Bibliography 189
Index 193
SHORT TITLES USED IN CITATION
l-'ull publication data is given in the bibliography.
Allan, "Aristotle's A c c o u n t " D. J. Allan, "Aristotle's Account of the

Origin of Moral Principles"
Ando, Aristotle's Theory T. Ando, Aristotle's Theory of Practical Cog-
nition
Bonitz, Index H . Bonitz, Index Aristotelicus
Burnet, The Ethics J. Burnet, The Ethics of Aristotle
de Vogel, "Quelques r e m a r q u e s " C. J. de Vogel, "Quelques remarques à propos
du premier chapitre de l'Éthique de Nicomaque"
Dirlmeier, Nikomachische Ethik Aristoteles, Nikomachische Ethik, übersetzt von
F. Dirlmeier.
E. E. Aristotle, Eudemian Ethics, trans. H . R a c k h a m .
N. E. Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics, trans. H.
Rackham.
Gauthier, La Morale R . - A . Gauthier, La Morale d'Aristote
Gauthier and Jolif, L'Éthique R.-A. Gauthier et J. Y . Jolif, L'Éthique à
Nicomaque
Gould, Development J. Gould, The Development of Plato's Ethics
Hardie, A Study W . F. R . Hardie, A Study in Plato
Joachim, Commentary H . H. Joachim, The Nicomachean Ethics, A
Commentary
Kullmann, Beiträge E . Kullmann, Beiträge zum Aristotelischen Be-
griff der "Prohairesis"
Nuyens, L'Évolution F. Nuyens, L'Évolution de la Psychologie
d'Aristote
Robinson, "L'acrasie" R . Robinson, "L'acrasie selon Aristote"
Snell, Discovery B . Snell, The Discovery of the Mind
Stewart, A'oies J. A . Stewart, Notes on the Nicomachean Ethics
of Aristotle
Cook Wilson, Structure J. Cook Wilson, On the Structure of the Seventh
Book of the Nicomachean Ethics, Chapters I-X
. . . video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor.
Ovid, Metamorphoses vii.20.
The good that I would do I do not; the evil

that I would not, that I do.
Paul, Romans vii.19.
. . . this yielding to oneself is nothing but ignorance,

and mastery of oneself is as certainly wisdom.
Plato, Protagoras 358c.
of Moral Weakness
INTRODUCTION
Akrasia (axgaata) is t h e t e r m Aristotle uses to refer to w h a t is some-

times called moral weakness, weakness of will, or incontinence. A
literal translation m i g h t be "powerlessness," and he occasionally
gives it this meaning. B u t for t h e most p a r t , it is applied to t h e c h a r -
acter of a person who claims to believe a moral principle b u t w h o
does n o t act a p p r o p r i a t e l y . The morally weak m a n (o dxQaTrjs)
habitually submits to t e m p t a t i o n , and, a t least on other occasions,
would a d m i t to doing so. Aristotle seems to suggest t h a t m o s t m e n
border on this condition, and one would suppose t h a t this kind of
c h a r a c t e r would come into prominence when morality becomes ascetic
or when moral education is n o t a d e q u a t e to moral d e m a n d . Akrasia,
in one form or a n o t h e r , has a t t r a c t e d t h e a t t e n t i o n of m a n y t h i n k e r s ,
b u t neither in their case nor in t h a t of Aristotle has t h e interest been
primarily due to t h e statistical prominence of t h e character. It is
r a t h e r w h a t is implied for conceptions of h u m a n action by the pos-
sibility of such a c h a r a c t e r t h a t has interested philosophers, poets,
and theologians. Akrasia m a y seem to imply t h a t belief is powerless
before passion, or t h a t w i t h o u t grace m a n is helpless to obey t h e
divine law, or t h a t intellect does not determine will, or t h a t m o r a l
belief is logically distinct f r o m moral c o m m i t m e n t — a l l implications
with wide ramifications. Those who hold the opposites to t h e s e
positions m a y t h u s be led to scrutinize this kind of character closely,
a n d to offer analyses which will nullify or a t least qualify these im-
plications. From Socrates to H a r e there has been a succession of
ingenious t r e a t m e n t s of t h e subject along these lines.
For the most p a r t , this s t u d y concentrates on the Aristotelian
t r e a t m e n t , and a m o u n t s to t h e unraveling of the complexities of
one small passage in the Nicomachean Ethics: chapter 3 of Book vii.
This passage has a l w a y s been intriguing to scholars and has a t t r a c t e d
m a n y brief t r e a t m e n t s , t h e inconsistencies of which are occasionally
2 INTRODUCTION
amusing. It has seemed t o some that Aristotle rejects and refutes

the Socratic denial of the reality of akrasia, and t h a t this is in line
with Aristotle's rejection of rationalism in ethics and intellectualism
in psychology. B u t it has seemed to others t h a t Aristotle supports
the Socratic position, and t h a t this reveals the limitations of those
other rejections. I think t h a t a close reading and a comprehensive
interpretation of the passage supports the latter view; the main
purpose of this study is to prove this case in a thorough way.
The Socratic emphasis of Aristotle's position becomes more clear
when it is seen against the background of earlier discussions, and
this background is presented in the first two chapters.
Students of Aristotle's moral philosophy cannot be unaware t h a t
much recent philosophical work in the field of moral psychology is
highly relevant to the understanding of Aristotle—indeed, some of
this work is rooted in Aristotle. There is a strong temptation to uti-
lize recent distinctions and emphases in the interpretation of the
texts. A certain portion of recent work directly critical of Aristotle's
position is discussed in the final chapter of this study. But the direct
application of recent philosophy to ancient texts requires great care,
and I have been sparing in this practice. However, the recent em-
phasis on choice and intention may be of some help in leading us into
the problems we are to consider. In this study we shall be concerned
only for the Socratic phase of the discussion of akrasia, and the diffi-
culty for a modern—a difficulty perhaps shared by Euripides—is
to understand the Socratic problem as anything more than hopeless
psychological naivete. Perhaps the normal understanding of Socra-
tism is t h a t moral belief is somehow automatically effective in action,
and the obvious reply to this is that, in point of fact, men constantly
fail to live up to their beliefs. Why should there be anything puzzling
about this? But there is some evidence, which will be adduced in
the first chapter, t h a t Socrates looked upon action as the expression
of choice. He would in t h a t case be emphasizing the intentional char-
acter of action. It may be naive to think of action in this way, but
if so, the naivete is shared by many thinkers, modern as well as an-
cient. Now, then, if what men do when they act counter to their
beliefs is really action in this full intentional sense, something quite
puzzling occurs. For if the contravened beliefs enter into the choice,
we have a situation not unlike t h a t of a man who believes that two
INTRODUCTION 3
and two is four, acknowledges t h a t here is two and here is two, and
then says t h a t these add up to five. Something is wrong. The sug-
gestion which I am making, then, is t h a t perhaps the ancient problem
of akrasia can be brought home to a modern if he will place the easy
generalizations about "Greek intellectualism" in the context of an
emphasis on choice and intention.
Apart from the direct interest of the subject, another reason for
undertaking this study is the recent appearance of a number of impor-
tant works concerning the Nicomachean Ethics, which might almost be
termed a new wave of Aristotelian scholarship. I have tried to eval-
uate much of this material as it bears on Aristotle's analysis of akrasia.
The volumes of commentary by Gauthier and Jolif, which are meant
to accompany their French translation of the Nicomachean Ethics,
appeared too late for systematic use here; but this loss is not as serious
as it might be, since the controlling interpretations have been pre-
sented by Gauthier in a separate work, La Morale d'Aristote. Full
use has been made of this. In case any readers are unaware of the
systems of reference normally employed in Platonic and Aristote-
lian scholarship, it should be noted t h a t the Platonic references
are to the Stephanus edition of 1578 a t Paris and the Aristotelian
references are to the Bekker edition of 1831-1870 sponsored by the
Berlin. Academy. In the Platonic system, numbers refer to pages
and letters to portions of pages. In the Aristotelian system, the first
numbers refer to pages, letters refer to colums, and the last numbers
refer to lines. Unless otherwise indicated, the translations in the
Loeb Classical Library have been used. One practice occasionally
produces oddities in the text: because of the frequency of its occur-
rence, it has often seemed advisable to transliterate the term axga-
aia.
CHAPTER I
THE SOCRATIC DENIAL OF AKRASIA
Akrasia and the Morality of Decision
T h e suggestion has been m a d e t h a t akrasia poses a philosophical pro-

blem for a moral philosophy in which choice and decision are assumed
t o be of f u n d a m e n t a l importance in h u m a n c o n d u c t . Is there
evidence t h a t t h e Socratic tradition exemplifies such a moral philoso-
p h y ? In this section we will review such evidence and begin to t r a c e
its bearing on the interpretation of t h e Socratic denial of akrasia,
especially as t h a t denial is presented by X e n o p h o n .
This suggestion is a development of t h e analysis m a d e by B r u n o
Snell of one of the themes in the tragedies of Aeschylus. Snell draws
a t t e n t i o n to the fact t h a t often the c h a r a c t e r s of Aeschylus are faced
w i t h a situation in which they m u s t ponder a l t e r n a t i v e s a n d come
to a decision. Snell concentrates on t h e position of K i n g Pelasgus in
the Suppliants, b u t perhaps the position of Orestes in the Libation
Bearers is more familiar. Apollo has c o m m a n d e d him to avenge his
f a t h e r ' s d e a t h by killing his mother. Orestes has some i n t i m a t i o n s of
t h e guilt he will incur by this act, a n d a t the crucial m o m e n t he hesi-
t a t e s and t u r n s to his companion for advice. The companion reminds
him of Apollo's oracle. Orestes says, "I judge t h a t you win. Y o u r
advice is good." 1 He then goes on with his deed. This t h e m e of deci-
sion runs t h r o u g h o u t t h e Oresteia. In t h e Agamemnon, Agamemnon
m u s t choose whether or not to walk upon the carpet, as he once had
t o choose w h e t h e r or not to sacrifice his d a u g h t e r . In t h e Eumenides,
the jury of Athenians m u s t decide w h e t h e r or not Orestes shall be
delivered over to the Furies. Snell sees in such situations one of the
keys to Aeschylean t r a g e d y :
Aeschylus presents these pointed situations because he is less interested

in what happens than in what is done, and because he feels t h a t the
1
A e s c h y l u s , Libation Bearers, trans. R. Lattimorc, line 902.
THE SOCRATIC DENIAL OF AKRASIA 5
essence of human action is to be found in the act of decision. A chemist

combines in his test tube several substances which are rarely or never
found together in nature in order to form a clear and precise idea of
their reactions. Likewise the dramatist constructs his actions with a
view to isolating the quintessence of action."
The Greek terms for such a decision are algeaig and Ttgoaigeaig;
Kullmann has collected occurrences of these terms in Greek literature
from Homer through Aristotle, thus providing evidence t h a t the
concept of decision was in wide use among the Greeks. 3 Of s o m e w h a t
greater interest for us are passages in which the concept plays an
important part in determining philosophical doctrine. Xenophon
presents one such passage which relates the Socratic doctrine regarding
akrasia to a philosophical generalization of the concept of choice:
When asked further whether he thought that those who know what they
ought to do and yet do the opposite are at once wise and vicious, he
answered: "No; not so much that, as both unwise and vicious. For I
think that all men have a choice between various courses, and choose
and follow the one which they think conduces most to their advantage.
Therefore I hold that those who follow the wrong course are neither
wise nor prudent." 4
For Socrates as X e n o p h o n presents him, men choose what t h e y do;

and when men choose, t h e y choose what they think best. Therefore,
there can be no one who at once knows what is best and does w h a t
is worst. We shall return to Xenophon's elaborations on this doctrine.
2
Snell, Discovery, p. 106. Snell's elaboration of t h i s p o i n t occupics p p . 99-108.
Snell's f u r t h e r thesis t h a t t h e t h e m e of decision is f i r s t found in Aeschylus is critic-
ized by K u l l m a n n , in Beiträge, pp. 24 ff. K u l l m a n n argues t h a t t h e t h e m e is p r o m -
inent in H o m e r .
3
I a m a s s u m i n g t h a t t h e differences between t h e Greek t e r m s algeatg and jigo-
aigcaig, a s well as t h o s e between t h e linglish terms "choice" and "decision," are
n o t i m p o r t a n t a t t h i s stage of t h e inquiry. The differences between t h e former m a y
h a v e considerable bearing on A r i s t o t l e ' s conception of moral v i r t u e . The differences
between t h e l a t t e r could s t a n d extensive i n v e s t i g a t i o n .
4
Memorabilia iii.9.4. There is a d i f f i c u l t y in t h e Greek of t h i s passage. The t e x t
bas aoipovg Te xai ¿yxgazelg etvai vo/iiôt. The sense requires t h a t ¿yxgarelg be
dxgazelg. See G a u t h i c r and Jolif, L'f'lhique II, 591. " H a v e a choice" t r a n s l a t e s
ngoaigov/jevovg. G a u t h i e r ' s claim t h a t the word ngoaigEOis only appeared a l i t t l e
before Aristotle and t h a t it is not found in X e n o p h o n , and found only once in P l a t o
is a l i t t l e forced. See I.a Morale, p. 28. The word ngoatgeaii; may n o t occur,
b u t other forms of the v e r b nooaigeaOai certainly do. See K u l l m a n n , Beiträge, p p .
40-41, for a collection of occurrences in P l a t o .
6 T H E SOCRATIC D E N I A L O F AKRASIA
The ways in which Plato utilizes and interprets the concept of

choice are much more complex than this simple doctrine presented
by Xenophon, and to explore them all would a m o u n t to a m a j o r
inquiry. We will content ourselves with three passages, spread over
the course of Plato's career, to make it clear t h a t the concept
of choice, or decision, was never very far from his mind. The first
passage is from the Protagoras. Socrates is trying to show t h a t a
certain art of measurement would be salvation in life, if acting well
consisted in choosing large things and rejecting small things. He
concludes thus:
Well then, my friends, since we have found that the salvation of our
life depends on making a right choice (atgeaig) of pleasure and pain—of
the more and the fewer, the greater and the smaller, and the nearer and
the remoter—is it not evident, in the first place, that measurement is a
study of their excess and defect and equality in relation to each other 7
(357AB)
One of the most humorous and dramatic passages in Plato is found

in the Phaedo, a t the point at which Socrates is recounting his intel-
lectual development, and tells of his disappointment in the doctrines
of Anaxagoras. He explains t h a t if one were to ask for the cause
of the conversation they are now conducting, one kind of answer
would mention "voice and air and hearing," and another kind would
mention the opinions of Socrates a n d the Athenians as to w h a t is
best. He then goes on:
But it is most absurd to call things of that sort causes. If anyone were
to say that I could not have done what I thought proper if I had not
bones and sinews and other things that I have, he would be right. But
to say that those things are the cause of my doing what I do, and t h a t
I act with intelligence but not from the choice (aigeoig) of what is best,
would be an extremely careless way of talking. (99AB)
Finally, in the Laws, there comes a point at which Plato acknowledges

t h a t men will only choose what is pleasant over what is painful, and
sets himself the task of showing the superior pleasantness of the t e m -
perate life. He begins in this way:
What, then, and how many are the lives in which a man—when he has
chosen (ngoaigeodai) the desirable and voluntary in preference to the
undesirable and the involuntary and has made it into a private law for
himself, by choosing what is at once both congenial and pleasant and
most good and noble—may live as happily as man can? (733DE)
THE SOCRATIC D E N I A L OF AKRASIA 7
It is because men make choices, then, that the art of measurement

can constitute their salvation; because they make choices, that purely
physical and mechanical conditions are inadequate to the explanation
of human action; and because they make choices, that the superior
pleasantness of the virtuous life should be set forth by the philosopher.
W e are assuming that the Protagoras is a relatively early dialogue,
the Phaedo a middle dialogue, and the Laws a late dialogue. The
theme of choice and decision is thus an important one throughout
the development of Plato's reflection on human life.
W i t h Aristotle, there is hardly any need for emphasizing the im-
portance of the concept of decision. In both the Eudemian Ethics
(1225bl8-1227a5) and the Nicomachean Ethics (111 l b 4 - l 113al4) there
is an extensive discussion of ngoaigeaiQ in which the affiliations of
this concept with those of appetite and knowledge are worked out.
More important, virtue is described in the Eudemian Ethics as a
TiQoaiQETixrj (1227b8), and in the Nicomachean Ethics the vir-
tues are said to be xgoaigeaeig rives rj ovx avev ngoaigeaeuis
(1106a3-4). That is, virtue is a disposition to choose, a form of choice,
or at least not without choice. It is the importance of the concept
of choice in his account of the virtues that, in part, makes it so neces-
sary for him to clarify the related concept of the voluntary. We
will examine portions of his account of these two concepts below.
As we explore the various efforts of Plato and Aristotle to inter-
pret the phenomena of akrasia in such a w a y that the effectiveness
of reason in action is preserved, we should remember the importance
of the concept of choice or decision to them; and we should remember
the position which is stated baldly and simply by Xenophon: since
men choose what they do and since they choose what they think
is best for them, it is impossible that they should really act against
what they think is best.
Having gone this far in relating the moral philosophy of the
Socratic tradition to the concerns of modern analytic philosophers, it
is tempting to go farther and to seek, in this way, a deeper under-
tanding of the meaning of Socrates' doctrine. But, as is widely
acknowledged, it is not easy to discover precisely what Socrates'
doctrine was, let alone what its deeper meaning might have been.
Into the vexed question of the relative value of Xenophon, Plato,
and Aristotle as testimony to the doctrines of Socrates we are fortunate-
8 THE SOCRATIC DENIAL OK AKRASIA
ly not obliged to enter, for all three agree t h a t according to Socrates,

one of the consequences of the doctrine t h a t no one does wrong volun-
tarily is t h a t akrasia does not really occur. 5 It has been argued t h a t
w h a t animated Socrates in these doctrines was the understanding
of knowledge as practical knowledge, in some fairly narrow sense
of the term ''practical." We should consider this possibility, for it
would be of the greatest value in understanding Plato and Aristotle
to have some sense of the point of departure of the development of
the Socratic tradition.
There is a passage in Xenophon and a n o t h e r in the Laches which
suggest t h a t the kind of knowledge which Socrates had in mind in
his assertion of the effectiveness of knowledge in action was practical
knowledge of some sort:
Between wisdom {ooyia) and prudence (auxpooavvrf) he drew no dis-
tinction; but it a man knows and practices (yiyvcoaxovra %(>fja6cu)
what is beautiful and good, knows and avoids ( e l d o x a evXaêiadat)
what is base, that man he judged to be both wise and prudent. ( M e m o -
rabilia, iii.9.4)
The passage from the Laches includes a similar practical reference,

in this case, a reference to the bringing a b o u t of goods:
Now do you think, my excellent friend, there could be anything wanting
to the virtue of a man who knew (eiSevai) all good things, and all about
their production in the present, the future, and the past (u>q yiyverat
xai yevijaerai xai yeyove) and all about evil things likewise? (199D)
In both cases the practical reference makes it somewhat a m b i g u o u s
whether the knowledge to which Socrates refers is exclusively practical
— thus, in the first passage, if wisdom were itself practical, there would
seem to be no need to add t h a t a man should practice and avoid as
well as know; and similarly for the second passage. To add the ref-
erence to knowledge a b o u t production suggests t h a t knowledge
simpliciter does not include knowledge of production. B u t the refer-
ences are quite possibly mere emphatic amplifications of what is already
contained in the verbs of knowing.
It has been suggested by several scholars t h a t t e r m s referring to
knowledge in earlier Greek writings, and to some e x t e n t in nonphil-
5
See X e n o p h o n , Memorabilia iii.9.4ff.; Plato, Protagoras 352A-353A; Aristotle,
N.E. 1145b22-27.
osophical w r i t i n g s f r o m the later period are innocent of the distinction

between the practical and the theoretical. 6 We will examine one
recent and s u g g e s t i v e a t t e m p t to capitalize on this position, and to
utilize a distinction prominent in modern analytic philosophy, to
reach an understanding of Socratic doctrine. T h i s is the attempt
by John Gould to e x p l a i n the p r a c t i c a l i t y of Socratic wisdom by
turning t o a c c o u n t t h e d i f f e r e n c e between " k n o w i n g t h a t " and " k n o w i n g
h o w " which has been presented b y Professor G i l b e r t R y l e . 7 Ryle's
position is t h a t m a n y of the terms which w e use in ascribing intelli-
gence to p e o p l e refer to their abilities to s a t i s f y criteria in p r a c t i c e ,
and to regulate their behavior critically in the e f f o r t to perform
correctly. He is opposed to the "intellectualist" interpretation of
this " k n o w i n g h o w , " according to which p e r f o r m i n g critically is ac-
t u a l l y d o i n g t w o things, c o n t e m p l a t i n g some proposition and c a r r y i n g
out some physical m o v e m e n t . W e can put this position in s y n o p t i c
f o r m b y s a y i n g t h a t intelligence is m a n i f e s t e d in skill. G o u l d ' s uti-
lization of this position is presented in the f o l l o w i n g remarks:
Briefly what I wish to suggest is this. In putting forward the thesis that
aQExr¡ is only to be attained b y emcrrijfirj, Socrates was not asserting
that a g e r t j necessarily results from a personal apprehension of the nature
of good and e v i l (still less of Good and E v i l ) , but that for the achievement
of aoer>] what is required is a f o r m of moral ability, comparable in some
respects to the creative or artistic ability of potters, shoemakers and the
like; that the EniOTi'i/j.r¡ which Socrates envisaged was a form of knowing
how, that is, how to be moral.'
H e emphasizes w h a t is intended b y r e m a r k i n g s o m e w h a t later that

" e v e n f o r Socrates and P l a t o , to achieve dper»; is not to a r r i v e a t a
v a l i d ethical t h e o r y , but to attain v a l i d moral behaviour."8
6 Snell, Discovery, p. 185, says that Socrates' language enforces close relations
between knowledge and practical interest. E . R . Dodds expands the scope of verbs
of k n o w i n g t o include moral charactcr and personal feeling; see The Greeks and the
Irrational, pp. 16-17. R . B . Onions develops the H o m e r i c background and relates
this t o Socrates and P l a t o ; see The Origins oj European Thought, pp. 13-22.
7 Gould, Development, especially Chapter I: " T h e Socratic Theory of K n o w l e d g e
and M o r a l i t y . " The distinction between "knowing t h a t " and "knowing h o w " is
presented by R y l e in The Concept of Mind, especially in chapter II, "Knowing
H o w and K n o w i n g That."
8 Gould, Development, p. 7.
9 Ibid., p. 13.
No doubt for Socrates, or for that matter, for any other Greek,
the concept of ageTrj is in some sense a practical concept. At least
he would have rejected a man's claim to have it if the man could
not live up to the claim and perform appropriately. It would seem
to follow that if aget»j is somehow dependent on or identical
with £7ti<TT^/i»j, Emajrjur) must likewise be practical in character. The
idea is presented very simply in Xenophon. At one point he has Socra-
tes answer the challenge of Hippias to give his opinion about justice
by saying that he declares his notions by his deeds, which
are better evidence than words. This is hardly a philosophical
position, but it is the common practice on which a philosophical
position might be erected. Again, Xenophon has Socrates develop
the idea for courage and cowardice: those who cannot behave
well cannot know how they must behave. 1 0 W h a t this amounts to,
however, is a restriction on any theory of virtue: since virtue is a
disposition to act well, any theory of virtue must include this feature.
If we take virtue to be knowledge, we cannot thereby abandon the
position that it is a disposition governing action. B u t this is only
to say that whatever knowledge virtue is must have some essential
relation to action. It is not to say that t h a t knowledge must be tan-
tamount to skill. T h a t is a further claim, and must be independently
supported.
W e would do well to take a second look a t the potters, shoemakers,
and the like. They have r¿xvr!< craftsmanship, and there is no doubt
t h a t this craftsmanship must include the element of skill as Ryle
has analyzed it. They must be able to perform critically, and to do
so habitually. B u t they also have lore. The pilot and the doctor,
two craftsmen whom the Platonic Socrates, at least, is fond of citing,
have their star-lore and casebooks, and in the case of the doctor,
may even be in possession of a modicum of theory. As Plato points
out on more than one occasion, true craftsmanship is not identical
10 F o r j u s t i c e , see Memorabilia iv.4.10. F o r courage, see i v . 6 . 1 1 . To "know

how one m u s t b e h a v e " ( e i S e v a i cos Set £p»j<x0ai) m u s t have some of t h e ambi-
g u i t y in Greek t h a t it h a s in E n g l i s h . One m a y "know how he m u s t b e h a v e " w i t h o u t
k n o w i n g how t o behave as he knows how he m u s t b e h a v e . T h a t is, here is a case
of " k n o w i n g h o w " which is really a " k n o w i n g t h a t . " W e will n o t u n d e r t a k e an
a n a l y s i s of t h i s i n t e r e s t i n g expression f o r fear of b e i n g led t o o far from Socrates
and the Greek.
T H E SOCRATIC DENIAL OF AKRASIA 11
with a mere knack a t doing things, but involves as well a (theoretical ?)

knowledge of the subject matter. 1 1 And Plato is here but giving expres-
sion to a movement of "rationalization" of traditional arts, in which
everything from military tactics to household management was being
reduced to rules and taught by teachers, including sophists such as
Hippias.
If we polarize the elements of craftsmanship into skill and lore,
what are we to say about Socrates' interest in craftsmen? If his in-
terest was in the habitual skill of the shoemakers, etc., it must seem
an odd procedure to put them to the question and ask for an account
of their art, rather than to ask them for a demonstration of their
skill. But it may be doubted whether Socrates' interest was in either
of these elements as such. It will be worth following rather closely
one of Xenophon's anecdotes about Socrates' relations with craftsmen.
He has Socrates discuss the art of the armorer with one Pistias, who
is renowned as a maker of breastplates. Socrates wants to know
why he charges more than other armorers. The answer is t h a t Pis-
tias' breastplates fit better than others do. There is then some exam-
ination of the notion of a good fit: a well-fitting breastplate must
be well-proportioned to the wearer and must not be too tight. It
permits movement without chafing. We have, then, a definition
of the characteristic excellence of a breastplate. 12 It is this definition
of an excellence which Socrates is after, not an exhibition of the ar-
morer's sureness with the hammer or even the knowledge which he
has of the properties of various metals. This kind of interest is in
line with such quotations as the following, which have come to stand
as the essence of Socratism, whether t h a t is the "position" of the
historical Socrates or not:
For just actions and all forms of virtuous activity are beautiful and good.
He who knows the beautiful and good will never choose anything else,
he who is ignorant of them cannot do them, and even if he tries, will
11
See t h e d i s t i n c t i o n b e t w e e n Té%vr¡, o n t h e one h a n d , and é/jneigta and Tgif)ij,
o n t h e o t h e r , at Gorgias 463B, and t h e r e m a r k s a b o u t r h e t o r i c at Phaedrus 268A
f f . See also Philebus 55D f f . , a b o u t t h e d i s t i n c t i o n b e t w e e n m e a s u r e m e n t a n d prac-
t i c e in t h e a r t s .
12
Memorabilia iii.10.9-15. Of c o u r s e , X e n o p h o n is o u t t o s h o w h o w S o c r a t e s '
c o n c e r n for v a l u e s w a s u s e f u l for one a n d all a l i k e , e v e n for armorers. See a l s o
iii.10.1.
12 THE SOCRATIC DENIAL OF AKRASIA
fail. Hence the wise do what is beautiful and good, the unwise cannot
and fail if they try. 1 '
Indeed, a great deal of clarification would be required before we
could safely turn modern philosophical developments to account in
fathoming the doctrines of the Greeks. This is not to say t h a t such
an enterprise is impossible, only that it is more difficult than is some-
times supposed. When it is said that the aim of Socrates and Plato
was not to arrive a t a valid ethical theory, but rather to arrive a t
valid moral behavior, we have to ask ourselves what might be meant
by ethical theory here. If what is sometimes called meta-ethics is
meant, t h a t is, a morally neutral study of the logic of moral language,
it is perhaps feasible to regard this as foreign to Greek interests—but
we should remember t h a t Socrates is said to have learned fine lin-
guistic distinctions from Prodicus, and t h a t Socrates, Plato, and
Aristotle were all very interested in definitions. If by ethical theory
is meant a coherent and teachable knowledge of good and bad, then
surely this is exactly what these philosophers were after, so far as
any evidence we have suggests. Furthermore, in Gould's case a t least,
it is not too clear what is to be conveyed by the term "practical,"
in the ascription to Socrates of a "practical" conception of wisdom.
Gould does not limit himself to the element of skill or know-how t h a t
we have been discussing so far. He turns for inspiration from Ryle
to Kierkegaard and argues t h a t "imaxrmr] now appears as an in-
ward and decisively personal moral conviction (analogous perhaps,
though we must beware of being misled by the connotations of the
word, to the Christian ' f a i t h ' ) . It is personal, as knowing how ine-
vitably is; inward, because it is not the subsuming of the individual
into a universal and objective principle." 14 Surely to a Greek a position
ls
Memorabilia iii.9.5. It m a y b e o b j e c t e d t h a t X e n o p h o n i s h a r d l y the one
t o g i v e u s t h e d e e p e r m e a n i n g of S o c r a t e s ' t e a c h i n g s . This m a y well be the case.
B u t c e r t a i n l y t h e P l a t o n i c S o c r a t e s is e v e n m o r e c o n c e r n e d for v a l u e s t h a n for skill
or lore. A n d , d i s s a t i s f i e d a s w e m a y b e w i t h w h a t w e learn from Xenophon and
Plato on t h i s score, h a v e we a n y w h e r e else to turn?
14
G o u l d , Development, p. 2 4 . See a l s o p p . x - x i . In f o o t n o t e 1, p . 6 7 , h e c o m -
pares Socrates to Kierkegaard, Dostoievsky, and K a f k a , again associating tech-
nique, certainty, and practice. I wonder how comfortable Kierkegaard would be
w i t h t h e n o t i o n of "moral t e c h n i q u e . " On p . 5 4 t h e i m p l i c a t i o n of t h e s e a s s o c i a t i o n s
f o r a k r a s i a is b r o u g h t o u t ; t h e d x g a T j f c h a s n e v e r a c h i e v e d "that sureness about
THE SOCRATIC D E N I A L OF AKRASIA 13
like this would suggest a sophistic emphasis on individualism and

perhaps the emotionalism exploited by rhetoricians. But there is
little evidence to show that Socrates subscribed to anything like the
Protagorean individualism, at least as that is widely interpreted;
and certainly Socrates is not to be thought of as a rhetorician produc-
ing nioxiz .1S And if these emphases are not intended, we are left
only with the suggestion that, since action is personal, wisdom must
be personal, too. But in one sense at least, all knowledge is personal,
"knowledge that" as well as "knowledge how."
If we lean too heavily on the "practical" aspect of Socratic wisdom,
the denial of akrasia in the name of that wisdom can amount to a
simple tautology hardly worthy of a master dialectician. That is,
if moral knowledge just is skill, then the suggestion that a person
can know and not act appropriately is ridiculous. The very fact that
there was a problem of akrasia should rule out such a limited inter-
pretation of moral knowledge. 1 6 Still staying with Xenophon, we
find Socrates himself presenting a more balanced view. He is asked
what the best pursuit for a man is, and replies, consistent with Gould,
"doing well" {evnoaîa). Then the shrewd question of whether good
h i s own b e s t i n t e r e s t w h i c h m u s t i n e v i t a b l y d i r e c t h i s a c t i o n s ( s i n c e i t is only recog-

n i z a b l e b y t h i s t r a i t ) along t h e r i g h t r o a d . " H e r e i t is t h e e l e m e n t of s u r e n e s s , t h a t
is, of c o n v i c t i o n , which is s t r e s s e d .
15
Gould himself m a k e s t h i s p o i n t o n p. 2 4 : " T h o u g h ¿moTTjfir) is c o n v i c t i o n , i t
is c o n v i c t i o n b a s e d on a g e n u i n e p r e s e n c e of i n t e l l i g e n t a b i l i t y . " IJiarig can b e
s h a k e n b y t h e a p p e a r a n c e of k n o w l e d g e , b u t ¿niGTtjfirj c a n n o t , f o r " w h a t is t r u e
is n e v e r p r o v e d f a l s e . " See p . 25 a n d Gorgias 473B. If t h e e m p h a s i s is placed o n
" w h a t is t r u e , " it is k n o w l e d g e a n d n o t c o n v i c t i o n w h i c h is m o s t i m p o r t a n t . I n d e e d ,
w e u s u a l l y speak of h a v i n g c o n v i c t i o n w h e r e we do n o t h a v e k n o w l e d g e . See D i r l -
m e i e r , Nikomachische Ethik, n o t e 143, 3 on p . 478, f o r a d i s c u s s i o n of t h e " p s y c h o -
l o g i z a t i o n " of knowledge a n d belief as " s t r o n g " a n d " w e a k " in t h e Old A c a d e m y ,
f o l l o w i n g i n d i c a t i o n s in t h e Timaeus.
16
Much of t h e a p p e a l of t h e " p r a c t i c a l " in i n t e r p r e t i n g S o c r a t e s c o m e s , n o t o n l y
f r o m t h e d i s c o v e r y of k n o w i n g - h o w b y R y l e , b u t also f r o m t h e r e v o l t of m o r a l p h i l o -
s o p h e r s a g a i n s t t h e p o s i t i o n s of G . E . Moore a n d t h e v a r i o u s I n t u i t i o n i s t s . In e t h i c a l
t h e o r y , t h e r e d i s c o v e r y of t h e b e h a v i o r a l c o n t e x t s a n d f u n c t i o n s of m o r a l l a n g u a g e
led to a h o s t of so-called " n o n - c o g n i t i v i s t " c o n c e p t i o n s of t h e m e a n i n g of m o r a l
t e r m s . B u t w i t h t h e s o b e r i n g r e a l i z a t i o n t h a t l a n g u a g e can p e r f o r m m a n y f u n c t i o n s
a t once, s o m e of t h e i m p o r t a n c e a t t a c h i n g t o t h e " p r a c t i c a l " role of m o r a l l a n g u a g e
h a s d i m i n i s h e d . See C h a p t e r s IX a n d X of R . B . B r a n d t , Ethical Theory, f o r a c a r e -
f u l and c o m p r e h e n s i v e d i s c u s s i o n of r e c e n t t e n d e n c i e s o n t h i s q u e s t i o n .
luck is a pursuit is asked. Socrates replies that luck (rvxv) a n d doing

(71 gaftc) are opposites. "To hit on something right by luck without
search I call good luck, to do something well after study and practice
I call doing well." (Memorabilia iii.9.14) We can see in this an em-
phasis on intentional action. In addition to knowing how to do some-
thing and knowing that something is true, there is knowing what one
is doing. And if one concentrates on what it is that one knows when
one knows what one is doing, it may seem t h a t what one does depends
very closely on what one knows—and then an intellectualist theory
of motivation is possible, and the denial of akrasia may not be quite
the tautology that it seems to be.
The fact that early Greek is innocent of a developed distinction
between practical and theoretical knowledge can be construed in
more than one way. It may be t h a t knowledge was taken to be prac-
tical, as Gould supposes, or it may be that practical pursuits were
taken to be somehow theoretical. Early Greek was apparently not too
sure about the difference between knowing and emotion, either, and
Dodds has pointed out the consequences of this for the explanation
of behavior:
If character is knowledge, what is not knowledge is not part of the char-
acter, but comes to a man from the outside. When he acts in a manner
contrary to the system of conscious dispositions which he is said to "know,"
his action is not properly his own, but has been dictated to him. In
other words, unsystematised, nonrational impulses, and the acts resul-
ting from them, tend to be excluded from the self and ascribed to an
alien origin."
Xenophon shows us Socrates interested in the relations between igno-
rance and madness, and saying t h a t ignorance of the self with the
illusion of knowledge is next to madness. 18 It may be, then, t h a t
just as when a fit of madness comes upon a person, he is "out of his
mind," so when a person acts in a morally weak way, he is "out of
17
The Greeks and the Irrational, p. 17. In n o t e 105, p. 26, D o d d s goes on to
d i m i n i s h s o m e w h a t the "intellectualist" force of t h i s view by describing it as t h e
"inevitable result of the absence of the c o n c e p t of the w i l l . " W e will e v e n t u a l l y
e x a m i n e w h a t might be m e a n t b y t h i s p o s i t i o n .
18
Memorabilia i i i . 9 . 5 . A t i . 2 . 5 0 , it is said t h a t Socrates had frequently considered
the difference b e t w e e n m a d n e s s and ignorance; m a d n e s s calls for c o n f i n e m e n t ,
ignorance for instruction.
T H E SOCRATIC DENIAL. O F AKRASIA 15
his knowledge." Xenophon presents a passage which points in this

direction:
As for wisdom, the greatest blessing, does not incontinence (axgaaia)
exclude it and drive men to the opposite? Or don't you think that incon-
tinence prevents them from attending to useful things and understanding
them, by drawing them away to things pleasant, and often so stuns their
perception of good and evil that they choose the worse instead of the
better?"
Having come this far with Xenophon, on the supposition t h a t if
the Socratic conception of wisdom were narrowly practical we would
find this brought out in the practical-minded and unphilosophical
soldier rather than in the visionary Plato, let us go on a bit farther
and collect what seems to be Xenophon's version of the Socratic
doctrine concerning wisdom and akrasia. It is hardly systematic
and hardly even consistent. We have seen that "He who knows the
beautiful and good will never choose anything else." This suggests
t h a t the beautiful and good have some wonderful power to control
human choices, and thus t h a t once we see these we will be safe from
error and evil. But Xenophon has Socrates disagree with the view
t h a t justice, prudence, and learning cannot be lost when once attained.
An analogy is drawn between the soul and the body; and just as we
must continually train the body so we must continually train the soul,
even to the point of repeating instruction after the truth has been
seen. (Memorabilia, i.2.19ff.) So to speak, the soul must be in good
condition in order to see the truth. He puts this very straightfor-
wardly in saying t h a t "only the self-controlled have the power to
consider the things that matter most and sorting them out after
their kind, by word and deed alike to prefer the good and reject the
evil." (Memorabilia, iv.5.11) This amounts to an extension of virtue
beyond wisdom. Far from wisdom leading to self-control (èyxqàxeia),
it is self-control which leads to wisdom. Xenophon avoids this diffi-
culty by calling self-control an "aid to virtue." 20
w
Memorabilia iv.5.6. Here axgaaia is used in a loose sense as "absence of self-
control," not necessarily as "having one's knowledge overcome by desire." Plato
uses the term this way at times, e.g., Republic 461B. See the note on èri dxgareif
on p. 292 of Burnet, The Ethics.
20
Memorabilia iv.5.1-2. 'Eyxqazeia is a favorite theme for Xenophon. See i.5.1;
ii.1.1. At v.5.10, ¿yxgdjeta seems almost to be the sum of the virtues: the self-con-
It is hard to say, then, whether Xenophon's Socrates has in mind

a properly philosophical denial of the possibility of akrasia or not.
He does reveal a concern for the importance of choice and for inten-
tional action, but it is not clear whether he goes on from this to an
intellectualist theory of motivation. The remarks about eyxodteia
suggest otherwise. One position does not come through at all: that
the wisdom which Socrates thought of as essential to virtue was tan-
tamount to a combination of skill and conviction, rather than vision.
There is a suggestion t h a t some kind of training of the soul is neces-
sary to acquire and maintain wisdom, and a suggestion that the morally
weak may no longer have the wisdom t h a t they once possessed. B u t
for the most part, Xenophon's Socrates is hortatory rather than phil-
osophical: for the full realization of the philosophical labors required
to make good the denial of akrasia we are left to Plato.
Before turning to Plato, however, we should have a fuller acquaint-
ance with the kind of psychological realism which would insist on the
reality of akrasia. W e will find this in the work of Euripides, who
almost seems to have written certain of his tragedies with the express
intention of demonstrating that human knowledge can be, and is,
overcome by passion and desire, and that this occurs without the
"driving o u t " of the knowledge itself.
Euripides' Dramatization of Motivational Conflict
In two tragedies by Euripides, the Medea and the Hippolytus,

we find the situation of reason being overcoiiie by passion and desire,
which is so directly addressed to the problem of akrasia that it has
been speculated that these tragedies form a part of a "dialogue" between
Socrates and Euripides on the problem of akrasia. 2 1 T h e Medea was
trolled man h a s t h e delights of learning s o m e t h i n g good a n d e x c e l l e n t , of s t u d y i n g

s o m e of t h e m e a n s to regulate h i s b o d y well a n d manage h i s household s u c c e s s f u l l y ,
of b e i n g useful to friends and c i t y , and of d e f e a t i n g h i s e n e m i e s . Perhaps t h e r e
is a link between t h i s p r e d e l i c t i o n for eyxgdreia and X e n o p h o n ' s supposed debt
to Antisthenes.
21 See S n e l l , "Das frühste Zeugnis über Sokrates," Philologus XCVII (1948).
S n e l l sees the Medea as s t a r t i n g t h e t o p i c , X e n o p h o n ' s Memorabilia i i i . 9 . 4 as g i v i n g
S o c r a t e s ' f i r s t reply, t h e Hippolytus as r e p l y i n g in t u r n , and Plato's Protagoras
as concluding t h i s " S o c r a t i c " phase of d i s c u s s i o n . E . R . D o d d s discusses the s e q u e n c e
p r e s e n t e d in 431 B.C. a n d t h e Hippolytus in 428. A comparison of t h e t w o

t r a g e d i e s on t h e t h e m e s t h a t a r e r e l e v a n t to a k r a s i a will bring o u t t h e
e x t e n t to which t h e i r message is anti-Socratic.
Medea has, in her eyes, been deserted by her h u s b a n d J a s o n , in
order t o a d v a n c e his position in t h e world. She carries t h r o u g h a
plot to kill his newly b e t r o t h e d r e p l a c e m e n t for her a n d she i n t e n d s
to m u r d e r her children b y J a s o n as well, in order to c o m p l e t e h e r
r e v e n g e . B u t as t h e t i m e c o m e s to kill t h e children, t h e joys a n d
f u l f i l l m e n t s of m o t h e r h o o d c o m e vividly before her a n d , in g r e a t
a n g u i s h , she vacillates b e t w e e n m a t e r n a l love a n d t h e f u r y of revenge.
F i n a l l y she says,
Go. go I I a m no longer able, no longer
To look u p o n you. I a m overcome by sorrow.
I know indeed what evil I intend to do,
But stronger t h a n all m y a f t e r t h o u g h t s is my fury,
F u r y t h a t brings upon mortals the greatest evils."
In t h e Hippolytus it is t h e queen, P h a e d r a , who undergoes a simi-

lar conflict. She develops a n o v e r w h e l m i n g passion for H i p p o l y t u s ,
t h e religiously c h a s t e son of her h u s b a n d by a n o t h e r w o m a n . P h a e d r a
a t t e m p t s to k e e p her passion secret a n d even resolves to die r a t h e r
t h a n t o t r y t o c o n s u m m a t e it. T h e secret is discovered by a s e r v a n t ,
a n d P h a e d r a speaks t h e following lines in telling of her struggle:
Many a time in night's long e m p t y spaces
I have pondered on the causes of a life's shipwreck.
I think t h a t our lives are worse t h a n the mind's quality
would w a r r a n t . There are m a n y who know virtue.
W e know the good, we apprehend it clearly.
B u t we can't bring it to achievement. Some
of "replies" c r i t i c a l l y on p. 187 a n d in n o t e 47, p. 199, of The Greeks and the Irra-

tional. In n o t e 5 0 , p. 2 0 0 , h e g i v e s r e f e r e n c e s t o t h e t h e m e of "the moral i m p o t e n c e
of r e a s o n " in o t h e r w o r k s b y E u r i p i d e s . Snell g i v e s fragments from the Antiope
a n d t h e Chrysippus in n o t e 1, p. 1 3 3 .
22
Lines 1075-80. Warner translation. Although we shall be primarily concerned
for t h e s i t u a t i o n e x p r e s s e d in t h e s e l i n e s , t h e c o n f l i c t of f e e l i n g t h a t l e a d s u p t o
t h e m is n o t t o t a l l y i r r e l e v a n t . H.D.F. Kitto has remarked that this conflict is
"a t h e a t r i c a l s t r u g g l e r a t h e r t h a n a p s y c h o l o g i c a l l y c o n v i n c i n g o n e . " See h i s Greek
Tragedy, p. 2 0 2 . W h a t " t h e a t r i c a l i t y " t h e r e m a y be here is rather part of t h e o v e r -
r i d i n g s t y l e of t h e w h o l e p l a y : J a s o n is " t h e a t r i c a l l y " p e d a n t i c a n d o b t u s e , the
p o i s o n robe a n d c r o w n arc " t h e a t r i c a l , " a n d w h a t of t h e d r a g o n - c h a r i o t at t h e e n d ?
are betrayed by their own laziness, and others

value some other pleasure above virtue.
There are many pleasures in a woman's life—
long gossiping talkings and leisure, that sweet curse.
Then there is shame that thwarts us. Shame is of two kinds.
The one is harmless, but the other a plague.
For clarity's sake, we should not talk of "shame,"
a single word for two quite different things."
The first thing to clarify about these two characters is just what
kind of a conflict they undergo. Medea's conflict-speech has been
called the first decision-monologue, and there is a sense in which this
m a y be true. 2 4 Medea is not torn by conflicting demands of authority
as, for instance, the Orestes of Aeschylus is. But for neither Medea
nor Phaedra is the moral issue in doubt. T h a t is, neither is seeking
a conclusion to a rational deliberation on what she ought to do. There
m a y be some ambiguities as to the moral quality of the protestations
of both, which we will discuss presently, b u t neither is trying to deter-
mine what the right thing to do might be. That is already known.
Hence, in order to distinguish between these two kinds of conflict, we
can call the conflict suffered by Medea and Phaedra a motivational
rather than a moral conflict.
In the case of Medea, it is her fiovXevfiaxa, translated by Warner
as "afterthoughts," which are overcome by her Ovftos, "fury." We
should pause a moment over these fiovXev/iaxa. At line 1048, in a
m o m e n t of relenting in her intention to sacrifice the children, Medea
bids farewell to /3ovXevfiaxa—in this case the plans for revenge. The
ftovAev/xara t h a t are overcome by dvpoi;, then, might possibly be the
plans, mentioned a t line 1045, to take her children with her when she
flees. W h a t is of special interest here is t h a t she might also have said
t h a t her maternal feelings were overcome by her fury, for it is certain-
ly these feelings which are most intensely expressed in the preceding
23
Lines 375-88. Grene translation. Snell sees a Socratic reference in t h i s t w o -
fold sense of "shame." See pp. 130-32, Philologus, XCV1I (1948). In substantia-
t i n g t h i s reference, he refers in note 1, p. 131, to X e n o p h o n , Memorabilia iv.5.9ff.
for the determination of the value of an a c t i o n through the higher value w h i c h
it serves. The passage is rather about the paradox of pleasure: those who incon-
t i n e n t l y seek it get little, whereas those who are continent have more and superior
pleasures.
24
See the discussion by Snell on pp. 124-30 of Discovery.
lines. B u t Euripides chooses to stress the {¡ovXevfiara. B u t it is also

possible t h a t t h e fiovkevficna are neither her plans to t a k e her children
with her nor her sobering a f t e r t h o u g h t s , b u t are rather her plans for
revenge. In this case, line 1079 should be translated as " I t is f u r y
which determines m y plans," t a k i n g xgeiaacov in the sense of " m a s t e r y
over" r a t h e r t h a n "stronger than." 2 4 On this reading, t h e idea would
be t h a t although she knows better, her intentions are governed b y feeling
rather t h a n by knowledge. In t h e first reading she has a plan or in-
tention, and Euripides is saying t h a t an intention can be overcome
by f u r y . In the second, she has knowledge, and Euripides is saying
t h a t knowledge is not sufficient for the formation of an intention. I t
is the second possibility t h a t is most similar to the remarks m a d e in t h e
Hippolylus. There it is j u d g m e n t , yvd>fir], which fails to find realization. 2 *
It is curious t h a t although P h a e d r a is the victim of a possibly god-
sent passion extreme enough to send her into delirium, she does not
mention passion as a reason w h y j u d g m e n t goes unfulfilled, b u t r a t h e r
speaks of laziness, gossip, leisure, and shame. 27 She is, in effect, saying
t h a t women do not come to moral shipwreck because of some failure
of their minds, or even because passion is too powerful to be stopped,
b u t because t h e y are simply too weak to carry out w h a t t h e y know
to be the right course. T h i s represents an even stronger opposition
to the doctrine of the m o t i v a t i o n a l sufficiency of reason t h a n is pre-
sented in the Medea.
As if to make this emphasis more pointed, Euripides clarifies some
of the ambiguity a b o u t the moral status of the protestations of his
24
I owe t h i s suggestion t o Professor Morton Smith.
28
r v c o w i s m e n t i o n e d repeatedly by Phaedra. A t line 240, she has wandered
from yvwfirjg dyadfjq. A t line 247, yviOfiTj is restored with anguish after her delirium.
The crucial l i n e s 3 7 6 and 377 say t h a t men do wrong ov x a r a yvwpiig <pvaiv.
A t line 391, she tells of the p a t h of her yvco/it] when her passion first occurred. A t
line 1304, A r t e m i s tells of Phaedra's v a n q u i s h e d yvw/itj. For yvw/it], see Snell, Die
Ausdrucke fur den Begriff des Wissens in der vorplalonischen Philosophic, "Philolo-
gische l.'ntersuchungen," X X I X (1924), especially 31-37. rvuifii] can mean
either the intellectual c a p a c i t y or the result of the exercise of that c a p a c i t y and
often it has a practical rather than a purely theoretical sense, according t o Snell.
T h i s would make it very close to the English "judgment."
27
Snell seems to m i s s t h i s p o i n t . On p. 128 of Discovery, he has Phaedra say
that we do not act on what we know "for we are in the grip of passion." The pleas-
ures of leisured laziness are hardly the grip of passion.
20 THE SOCRAT1C D E N I A L O F AKRASIA
heroines which can be found in the Medea. Medea says she is over-
come by xaxa and t h a t she knows what xaxa she intends to do. Warner
translates the first as "sorrow" and the second as "evil," which pre-
sents the ambiguity nicely. At line 1243, she calls her actions deiva
. . . xaxa, "fearful wrongs." But she has no conception of the rights
of her children, only of how pitiable they are and of the joy they might
bring her. It is a question, then, as to whether we should say t h a t
her resolutions represent truly moral decisions or not. With Phaedra,
the moral element is considerably stronger, even if it is tempered by a
certain amount of self-interest. At lines 245-50, she proclaims herself
ashamed. At line 323, she calls her passion a "sin" (dfiaQrelv), and at
line 331, it is shameful (aia^pov), as it is again at lines 404-5 (cuVxpa,
dvoxlea). In lines 420 ff. she expresses a genuine concern for the
interest of her husband and her children. One could find further evi-
dence, but this should be enough to make clear the increased emphasis
on the moral quality of Phaedra's yvdifir). The description of her struggle
is all the more pointed for a doctrine of the motivational sufficiency
of reason, once it has knowledge of the good. 28
As a final clarification of the kind of conflict and the kind of failure
of reason which are presented in these tragedies, we can compare the
two heroines with two other figures who represent another kind of failure
of reason. In the Medea, this is Jason, and in Hippolytus, the servant.
Jason and the servant think of themselves as wise in the ways of the
world and in what is good for men. 29 As with King Pentheus, the scope
28
It i s s t r a n g e t h a t w e are n o t g i v e n in t h e Hippolytus a n y c l i m a c t i c s c c n e of
self-surrender b y Phaedra. H e r b e t r a y a l i s i n d i r e c t , t h r o u g h t h e a c t i o n of t h e n u r s e ,
to which Phaedra never assents. It m a y b e t h a t E u r i p i d e s s h o w s u s i n s t e a d t h a t
v e r y d r i f t i n g i n t o s h i p w r e c k w h i c h she m e n t i o n s . I n s t e a d of t a k i n g t h e a c t i o n w h i c h
s h e o n c e c o n t e m p l a t e d , n a m e l y s u i c i d e , s h e l e c t u r e s her a t t e n d a n t s , a n d so is c a u g h t
u p i n t h e f a t a l m o v e m e n t of e v e n t s .
29
See J a s o n ' s l o n g s p e e c h b e g i n n i n g a t l i n e 5 2 2 , i n w h i c h h e c a s t s u p t h e p r o f -
i t a n d l o s s of M e d e a ' s s i t u a t i o n t o s h o w t h e w i s d o m of h i s p l a n s . The servant seems
a t t i m e s t o e c h o s o p h i s t i c or p h i l o s o p h i c a l t h e m e s . A t lines 190-98, she remarks
h o w m e n " i d l y . . . d r i f t , on i d l e s t o r i e s carried." A t l i n e 4 3 3 , in w h i c h s h e t r i e s t o
m a k e Phaedra's resolve out t o be i m p i e t y , she argues t h a t everyone, i n c l u d i n g the
gods, yields to A p h r o d i t e — i t is almost nature versus convention. On p p . 187-88
of The Greeks and ths Irrational D o d d s collects other p a s s a g e s from E u r i p i d e s w h i c h
suggest the nature-convention controversy. On p. 187, h e n o t e s t h e distinction
w e are p r e s e n t i n g b e t w e e n t h e m o t i v a t i o n a l a n d t h e c o s m i c l i m i t a t i o n s of r e a s o n .
T H E SOCRATIC D E N I A L O F AKRASIA 21
of their understanding is revealed as catastrophically limited. But

neither Medea nor Phaedra is limited in this way. So to speak, they
are not blind to the moral realities which they face. In these two
types of characters Euripides seems to be making two types of points
about the limitation of reason: reason is insufficient to grasp the full
truth about the forces that govern men's lives; and reason is insuffi-
cient to control men's behavior when it does grasp some important
truth. Whether we are to go on, as has been urged, and attribute to
Euripides a theory of the positive function of reason as issuing moral
warnings and a theory of the need for moral enthusiasm, is not revealed
to us in these two tragedies. 30 And since we are less interested
in Euripides' own doctrine than in the challenge which he presents
for the Socratic tradition, we will leave the matter there. 31
Whether or not these characters of Euripides were created in explic-
it opposition to a position enunciated by Socrates, they pose a chal-
lenge to the kind of position we saw presented by Xenophon. If Medea
is a possible character, then either knowledge is not sufficient for the
formation of an intention, or intentions can be overthrown by anger.
It is worth noticing that in the latter case this does not mean that
there is some spasmodic outburst of uncoordinated movement, but
rather that another set of plans and intentions replaces the first. Either
way, the process of reaching a final decision is not exhausted by the
process of weighing possible courses of action and drawing a conclu-
sion. Euripides might also have made it explicit that some form of
reason can as well work for evil as for good, since Medea certainly
possesses cunning and art. If Phaedra is a possible character, we must
add sexual passion to the number of nonrational forces which are strong-
er than reason. Furthermore, if what Phaedra says is true, it is not
only the melodramatic passions which can frustrate the fulfillment
of reason, it is so ordinary a condition as sheer laziness.
30
See Snell, Discovery, pp. 129-30.
31
Nor will we go i n t o the very interesting question as t o w h e t h e r E u r i p i d e s m e a n s
to suggest that the source of the a c t i o n s of these t w o heroines lies o u t s i d e t h e m -
selves. D o d d s rejects the view that Medea is possessed; see The Greeks and the Irra-
tional, note 44, p. 199. If is interesting that Phaedra herself t h i n k s of her mother
a n d her sister, relating her passion to a f a m i l y curse, at line 343. W h a t we are t o
m a k e of A p h r o d i t e is, of course, no small q u e s t i o n .
Xenophon implies t h a t with the onset of passion or desire, the wis-

dom of the morally weak deserts them. Euripides shows us persons
who give every sign of possessing wisdom of some sort at the time
of decision, allowing for the ambiguity of Phaedra's "action." If we
followed up the emphasis on the practicality of wisdom suggested by
some passages in Xenophon and elaborated by Gould, we would have
to deny the title of wisdom to the protestations of these persons, on
the sole ground t h a t they do not live up to what they say. This is
hardly consistent with the compelling power of the good and the beau-
tiful which further passages in Xenophon imply. Indeed, both in the
doctrine t h a t wisdom is narrowly practical and in the doctrine t h a t
without self-control the good and the beautiful cannot be known,
Xenophon has all but granted everything Euripides would ask. If
these positions were the sum total of the Socratic denial of akrasia,
it would hardly be worth arguing, for the motivational supremacy
of wisdom is maintained only by ensuring in it the conditions of wis-
dom. It is possible t h a t something like this kind of subterfuge is what
Socrates really argued, but it is more likely t h a t the full force of the
Socratic position is not to be found in Xenophon's compromises with
psychological realism. We shall turn now to a much more uncompro-
mising version of the Socratic position as presented by Plato in the
Protagoras. It will help us to appreciate the philosophical problem
confronted by Plato in certain of his other dialogues if we keep in mind
t h e central contentions of Euripides: intentions, plans, judgment,
sound moral belief, can all be overcome by passion and desire, and
they can fail to find fulfillment because of laziness and weakness of
character. These contentions would seem to imply that virtue cannot
be wisdom alone and t h a t reason is not motivationally sufficient.
The Socratic Denial of Akrasia in the Protagoras
It may be t h a t the Protagoras contains a reply to Euripides' reply

to a position Socrates held, and which we have preserved in
Xenophon; or it may be t h a t what Xenophon says about akrasia
is some kind of garbled interpretation of the Protagoras itself. In
any case, the Socrates of the Protagoras presents a clear and coherent
assertion of the motivational supremacy of reason in the form of
knowledge, and carries through a closely reasoned investigation of
T H E SOCRATIC D E N I A L OF AKRASIA 23
the phenomenon of akrasia, with the aim of showing t h a t things are

not what they may appear to be in this situation. The assertion of
the supremacy of reason is contained in the following passage:
Come, my good Protagoras, uncover some more of your thoughts: how
are you in regard to knowledge (emariifiTj) ? Do you share the view
that most people hold of this, or have you some other? The opinion gener-
ally held of knowledge is something of this sort—-that it is not a strong
or guiding or governing thing; it is not regarded as anything of that
kind, but people think that, while a man often has knowledge in him,
he is not governed by it, but by something else—now by passion, now
by pleasure, now by pain, at times by love, and often by fear; their feeling
about knowledge is just what they have about a slave, that it may be
dragged about by any other force. Now do you agree with this view
of it, or do you consider that knowledge is something noble and able
to govern men, and that whoever learns what is good and what is bad
will never be swayed by anything to act otherwise than as knowledge
bids, and that intelligence (tpgovrjaig) is a sufficient succour for mankind 7
(352 BC)
Socrates' position is, of course, the latter one, and it is P r o t a g o r a s '
position as well. After Protagoras agrees with him, Socrates p u t s
the issue once again:
Now you know that most people will not listen to you and me, but say
that many, while knowing what is best, refuse to perform it, though
they have the power, and do other things instead. And whenever I have
asked them to tell me what can be the reason of this, they say that
those who act so are acting under the influence of pleasure or pain, or under
the control of one of the things I have just mentioned."
Before we follow through Socrates' examination of akrasia, we
should pay attention to the version of the situation which he has
presented. Although he speaks of knowledge being dragged about
like a slave, he understands this as people knowing what is best and
refusing to do it. The Greek is ovx ¿dekeiv nqaxxeiv, efov avroig:
"are not willing to do it, though they are able to." The underlying
assumption is t h a t what people do, they choose to do, and t h a t when
they fail to do what they think is best, it is because they refuse to
do so. If the purpose of the Euripidean position were to deny this
underlying assumption, then what Socrates will say in the rest of
the Protagoras is simply irrelevant.
32
3 52 DE. T h e s e p a s s a g e s s u g g e s t t h a t t h e i n t e l l e c t u a l i s t t h e o r y of m o t i v a t i o n
w a s far from b e i n g s i m p l y Greek c o m m o n sense.
After presenting t h e problem and affirming his belief in the suffi-

ciency of knowledge and intelligence, Socrates goes ahead to examine
the experience called "being overcome by pleasure." In doing this,
he utilizes the doctrine t h a t the good is pleasure, and we will even-
tually have to ask w h a t bearing this disconcerting maneuver may
have on t h e analysis of akrasia itself. The commonest examples of
being overcome by pleasure concern food, drink, and sex; and he
argues t h a t t h e wickedness in these matters lies in their painful conse-
quences, just as t h e goodness of painful experiences, such as medical
t r e a t m e n t , lies in their pleasurable consequences. B u t on these
grounds it is obviously absurd to say t h a t a man knowingly does
evil because he is "driven and dazed by his pleasures." This would
amount to saying t h a t a man does evil, knowing it to be evil, because
he is overcome by t h e good. (355D) Some conception of q u a n t i t y
must be adopted, and then the only possibility is t h a t for the good
to be overcome by pleasure is for the greater pleasure to be overcome
by the lesser. The problem of akrasia can now be stated clearly:
How is it possible for men to be such as always to choose the course
of action which yields the greatest total balance of pleasure over pain
and yet sometimes to choose the lesser t o t a l ?
P u t in this way, the answer is equally clear. There is a system-
atic temporal illusion in the case of pleasures comparable to illusions
of spatial perspective: imminent pleasures appear greater in antici-
pation than do those in the remote future. Akrasia, then, t u r n s out
to be ignorance, a special case of t h e power of appearance to mislead.
Such ignorance can only be overcome by an art of measurement which
"by showing us t h e t r u t h would have brought our soul into the repose
of abiding by the t r u t h and so would have saved our life." (356DE)
And Socrates concludes his analysis thus:
Well, the nature of this art or science we shall consider some other time;
but the mere fact of its being a science will suffice for the proof which
Protagoras and I are required to give in answer to the question you have
put to us. You asked it, if you remember, when we were agreeing that
there is nothing stronger than knowledge, and that knowledge, wherever
it may be found, has always the upper hand of pleasure or anything
else; and then you said t h a t pleasure often masters even the man of
knowledge, and on our refusing to agree with you, you went on to ask
us: Protagoras and Socrates, if this experience is not "being overcome
by pleasure," whatever can it be, and what do you call i t ? Tell us. If
on the spur of the moment we had replied "Ignorance," you would have
T H E SOCRATIC D E N I A L O F A K R A S I A 25
laughed us to scorn: but now if you laugh at us you will be laughing

at yourselves as well. For you have admitted that it is from defect of
knowledge that men err, when they do err, in their choice of pleasures
and pains—that is, in the choice of good and evil; and from defect not
merely of knowledge but of the knowledge which you have now admitted
also to be that of measurement. And surely you know well enough for
yourselves that the erring act committed without knowledge is done
through ignorance. Accordingly "to be overcome by pleasure" means
just this—ignorance in the highest degree. (357C-E)
One of the persistent questions about the Protagoras is whether
Plato meant to profess, or whether he meant t h a t Socrates had pro-
fessed, the hedonism which is so ingeniously utilized in this analysis.
Connected with this question is the larger one of whether we should take
what is said in the Protagoras seriously. Certainly there is no doubt
about the seriousness with which the problem of akrasia and the
sufficiency of reason is treated in the dialogue itself. By correcting
our hedonic perspective we are not only to increase our long-run
profits, we are to "bring our soul into the repose of abiding by the
t r u t h " and we are to "save our life." Socrates and Protagoras agree
t h a t not only is knowledge noble and able to govern, but also t h a t
it is able to "come to the rescue" (f}oi]0eiv) of man. These phrases
point back to the opening scene of the dialogue, where Socrates re-
minds the young Hippocrates of the seriousness of trusting his soul
to a teacher and absorbing his wares: "but you cannot carry away
doctrines in a separate vessel: you are compelled, when you have
handed over the price, to take the doctrine in your very soul by learn-
ing it, and so depart either an injured or a benefitted man." 8 3 B u t
there is something odd a b o u t expressing a hedonistic morality in
this way, a t least unless the emphasis is upon escaping from pain rather
t h a n upon gaining positive pleasures, as it does not appear to be
here in the Protagoras; and what Plato has t o say about pleasure
elsewhere makes it seem strange t h a t he should ever profess hedonism.
We are not going to settle these questions, b u t a few observations
may be in order. (1) Despite various denunciations of bodily pleasures,
Plato never underestimated the importance of pleasure in human
33
314B. For a recent review of t h e q u e s t i o n of t h e s e r i o u s n e s s of the Protagoras,
c o n c l u d i n g t h a t P l a t o is serious and t h a t he d i d , for a w h i l e a t l e a s t , profess h e d o n -
i s m , see T e n k k u , The Evaluation of Pleasure in Plato's Ethics, "Acta Philosophica
F e n n i c a , " X I (1956), c h a p t e r III and e s p e c i a l l y pp. 4 4 - 5 9 .
life, and especially in t h e teaching of v i r t u e . H i s t h o u g h t culminates

in t h e celebrated passage a t Laws 653AB, where pleasure and pain
a r e said to be t h e f o r m s u n d e r which v i r t u e and vice are first present
to children. And t h e teaching of v i r t u e is, a f t e r all, t h e general s u b -
ject of t h e Protagoras. If one were more concerned for t h e " u n i t y of
P l a t o ' s t h o u g h t " t h a n for " P l a t o ' s d e v e l o p m e n t , " one m i g h t see t h e
hedonism of t h e Protagoras as a kind of p r i m e r of v i r t u e — m u c h as
hedonism is o f t e n used b y t e a c h e r s of ethics t o d a y . (2) If one looks
to t h e t r e a t m e n t of Gorgias in t h e Gorgias, or t h e whole of t r a d i t i o n -
al m o r a l i t y in t h e Republic, one can see t h a t P l a t o discerned as t h e
common presupposition of sophistic and t r a d i t i o n a l m o r a l i t y n o t h i n g
other t h a n hedonism. T h o u g h P r o t a g o r a s is r e l u c t a n t t o be as rigor-
ous as Socrate is, has he a n y other s t a n d a r d of value t h a n h e d o n i s m ? 8 4
And it should not be forgotten t h a t it is within t h e f r a m e w o r k of
hedonism t h a t t h e reality of akrasia is asserted. In effect, t h e claim
of t h e m a n y is t h a t men are not governed b y reason, b u t b y pleasure.
In effect, t h e reply of Socrates is t h a t even if men p u r s u e pleasure
alone, t h e y are still governed b y reason; namely, b y t h e i r beliefs a n d
calculations as to w h a t pleasures t h e y will obtain. 3 5 A n d in effect,
Socrates offers P r o t a g o r a s a philosophical description of his own a r t :
t h e correction of hedonic perspective. (3) It is t r u e t h a t t h e Protagoras
is suffused with c o m e d y ; and t h e ending, especially, so clearly suggests
t h e P r o t a g o r e a n doctrine of double a r g u m e n t s t h a t t h e whole t h i n g
can easily be read as a wonderful, high-spirited joke on P r o t a g o r a s .
B u t t h i s would not preclude t h e teaching of serious doctrine, a n y
more t h a n t h e h u m o r of t h e Lysistrata precludes a serious plea for
peace, or t h a t of t h e Symposium precludes t h e seriousness of Dioti-
m a ' s mysteries. B u t t h e comedy and the c a r i c a t u r e suggest a c e r t a i n
critical distance of t h e w r i t e r from t h e subject, or a t least a certain
superiority to it. T h e a r g u m e n t a t 359E-360, t h a t war, since honorable,
is good, and therefore, p l e a s a n t , while it m a y conduce to t h e conclusion
t h a t courage is wisdom, does not suggest whole-hearted devotion
t o hedonism.
P e r h a p s t h e soundest conclusion to carry a w a y from t h e Protagoras

is t h a t w h e t h e r or not P l a t o or Socrates ever professed hedonism,
See what is said about popular temperance at Phaedo 68E-69A.

See G.M.A. Grube, Plate's Thought, pp. 221-23. Grube calls attention to the
passage at Gorgias 500A ff. as well.
we are to take seriously the analysis of akrasia according to which

it is equivalent to ignorance, and an ignorance which is explainable
by the power of unmeasured appearance to deceive. The theme of
hedonic perspective recurs in the Philebus a t 41D-42C, and again in the
Laws a t 663B, once again in connection with a doctrine of hedonism.
In the Laws, however, the hedonism is psychological rather than
ethical. Whether or not imminent pleasures appear larger than dis-
t a n t pleasures, without the art of moral measurement, they must
certainly appear the greater goods.
If we confront this position presented in the Protagoras with the
one we have crystallized out of the Medea and Hippolytus, what must
we say a b o u t the Socratic denial of a k r a s i a ? First, t h a t Socrates
supposes t h a t even in the situation of akrasia, reason governs men
in the sense t h a t they act on their beliefs and calculations. Second,
t h a t although Socrates analyzes one situation which might be described
as "being overcome by pleasure," he does not analyze the situation
which Euripides presents. For Euripides' heroines do not miscalculate.
If the Socratic analysis is to be true to them, it must explain how
looming pleasures can upset calculations which have once been made,
and to all appearances, made correctly. If Socrates assumes t h a t
a correct calculation once obtained cannot be shown to be incorrect,
the program of construing akrasia as ignorance will become complex
indeed. W h a t we find in the thought of Plato (or in the later thought of
Plato, if we take the Protagoras already to represent a Platonic develop-
m e n t of Socratic doctrine) is a progressive coming to terms with these
shortcomings of the Socratic analysis as measured against the psycholog-
ical realism of Euripides. We shall now turn to this development
of Plato's thought on the subject.
CHAPTER II
THE DEVELOPMENT OF PLATO'S THOUGHT
The course of Plato's thought concerning akrasia consists of a series

of efforts to resolve a problem; how to maintain the Socratic denial
t h a t "knowledge can be dragged about like a slave" and a t the same
time do justice to such human experiences as Euripides so forcefully
dramatized. Whether Plato had Euripides in mind is not in our capac-
ity to say; but he certainly had human experience in mind, and he
did not flinch from its most confused and ambiguous varieties. The
problem of akrasia was not conclusively resolved by Plato. In the
Laws as in the Protagoras we are left with the suggestion, so typical
of Plato, t h a t a fundamental question requires more discussion than
it is given in the dialogue. 1 We can distinguish three stages in deal-
ing with the problem, and these stages are presumably chronologically
successive as well as successive from the point of view of philosophical
adequacy. The term "stage" is not meant to suggest t h a t Plato
abandoned one as he passed on to the next. The movement was,
for the most part, rather by way of addition and qualification, which
results in increasing complexity and even apparent inconsistencies.
We might call the first stage the cognitivist stage. The major dis-
tinction employed here is that between true knowledge and mere
opinion. True knowledge is unshakeable, whereas mere opinion can
"wander." The implication is that in the case of akrasia it is opin-
ion and not knowledge which is overcome. The second stage might
be called the psychological stage. Here, Plato sees the distinction
between the epistemological and the motivational strength of reason
and asks the question: " W h a t kind of a soul is it in which reason is
motivationally a u t h o r i t a t i v e ? " He divides the soul into three "parts"
and emphasizes the possibility of associating right opinion with the
capacity for indignant anger, by means of a suitable education. Akrasia
is then as much due to the misdirection or the weakness of this capacity
1
Protagoras, 357b, 361a-d. Laws, 627b, 964a, 965de.
DEVELOPMENT OF PLATO'S THOUGHT 29
for anger as it is to the wandering of opinion. Although much is said

about the harmony of the soul in this stage, the dominant concern
is for self-control, conceived as the exercise of repressive force against
the inherently unruly appetites of the body. It is difficult to characterize
the third stage. We shall call it the habituation stage, although that
is somewhat awkward. In it Plato passes from a morality of self-
control, in which courage looms largest among the virtues subordinate
to wisdom, to a true morality of harmony, in which this place is
taken by temperance. This is done by a reconsideration of the moral
possibilities of the bodily appetites themselves. A natively moderate
type of temperament is discovered and the possibility of the habitua-
tion of appetites in very early life is explored. There is a hint of a
kind of "knowledge" resulting from this habituation, having to do
with the possession of right images. Akrasia will involve a third
kind of failure, the failure of appetite to assume moderate courses
in response to the direction of reason. We have three features of
human experience which should be invoked when it is said that reason
is overcome. The first is opinion: the person did not really have know-
ledge, but only opinion. The second is spirit, the capacity for indig-
nant anger: even if opinion is right opinion, without the association
with spirit, it will wander or be ineffective in the face of the forces
of the appetites. The third is appetite: without a propensity to calm-
ness and without careful habituation, appetite will not be docile
to command, and even the measures of self-directed anger may not
be sufficient to master it.
The fact that Plato's thought expands and deepens itself in this
complex way imposes certain complexities on our exposition of it.
To adhere to a strictly chronological outline would make much of
what is said about the later stages unnecessarily repetitious. On
the other hand, the simpler course of announcing a theme and then
carrying it through to the end is exposed to the danger of missing
the alterations which are worked on early conceptions in the setting
of later discoveries and emphases. We will adopt a compromise pro-
cedure, carrying through such themes as do not seem to be seriously
modified in the course of Plato's development, and reserving such
modifications until their doctrinal environment has been presented.
For the most part, this complexity of exposition is confined to the
subject of knowledge and ignorance.
30 DEVELOPMENT OF PLATO'S THOUGHT
The Cognitivist Stage
One way to approach Plato's thought is to see it as an extended

investigation of the presuppositions and implications of such Socratic
themes as we have been following. The themes themselves remain
constantly present, but they are overshadowed by the enormity of
the possibilities Plato finds in them. The Socratic denial of akrasia
is a direct corollary of the doctrine that no one does wrong volun-
tarily, and this doctrine is repeated constantly in Plato's dialogues.
Another corollary is the distinction between what one wants, believing
it to be good, and what one really wants, the true good.2 One possi-
bility which Plato sees in these doctrines is the distinction between
true knowledge and mere opinion, which is expounded most explic-
itly in the fifth and sixth books of the Republic. There the distinction
is developed primarily from the differences in the objects of these
two states of the soul, and it is not to our purpose here to enter into
the epistemologica! and metaphysical complexities of this side of this
great, and, to Plato, all-important distinction. However, one as-
pect of it is closely relevant to the problem of akrasia. This is the
absence of stability, to which mere opinion is prone.
In the Meno, after noting that virtue has no teachers, Socrates
has an important afterthought. He and Meno have been supposing
all along that it is only knowledge (both ¿mar^firj and <pQÓvr\oiq
are used) which can give right guidance in conduct, whereas right
opinion (ÓQ6T] Soia) will do this as well. Why, then, should knowledge
be more highly prized than right opinion? The answer is:
[T]rue opinions. . . so long as they stay with us, are a fine possession, and
effect all that is good; but they do not care to stay for long, and run
away out of the human soul, and thus are of no great value until one
makes them fast with causal reasoning. (98A)
Here is an amplification of the "strength" of knowledge which is
insisted upon in the Protagoras (352B, 357C) and again in the Republic
* For the doctrine that no one does wrong voluntarily, see Protagoras 345D, 358D,
Gorgias 509E, Sophist 227, Timaeus 42D, a passage which may seem to run against
it, an impression corrected by 86D and 87B, Laws 734, 860 ff. For the distinction
between what one wants and what one really wants, see Lysis 207-210, Meno 77B,
Gorgias 466-481, especially 468, Laws 687. The Republic, of course, takes this as
a dominant distinction throughout.
(477E). It is clear t h a t this strength is epistemological r a t h e r t h a n

motivational here in the Meno, while it is motivational r a t h e r t h a n
epistemological in t h e Protagoras; and we can perhaps conclude t h a t
there is some confusion of t h e two types of strength. It would be
part of the Socratic program to equate the two aspects of reason,
with interesting consequences for t h e interpretation of akrasia.
The doctrine is t h a t in the case of knowledge, when we say t h a t
something is good, we know why it is good. Our knowledge is ground-
ed in the art of measurement mentioned in the Protagoras or in t h e
apprehension of t h e Ideas or F o r m s mentioned in other dialogues.
If we do not have this grounding, our opinion a m o u n t s to no more
than guesswork, even if it is some kind of inspired guesswork. It
is no great wonder, then, if such guesses should give way when con-
fronted by other and more persuasive positions. W e can now deal
with the shortcoming in the position of t h e Protagoras t h a t we men-
tioned a t the end of the last c h a p t e r : it is not enough to point out
the temporal illusion of pleasures, for w h a t must be a d m i t t e d in the
case of akrasia, is t h a t w h a t a p p e a r to be correct calculations are
overthrown. B u t now it can be denied t h a t these are calculations
a t all—they are merely correct guesses. H a s Phaedra, for instance,
anything other t h a n ungrounded opinions about w h a t is good and
bad?
Plato goes on to generalize the doctrine of hedonic illusion by recog-
nizing t h a t pleasure and passion have a distinctive power to m a k e
opinions and to work cognitive distortion. In the Republic, a dis-
tinction is made between the t h e f t of opinion by time, in the case
of forgetfulness, t h e t h e f t by a r g u m e n t , in the case of "overpersua-
sion," and the t h e f t by t h e sorcery of pleasure and pain. 3 In both
the Phaedrus (241AB) and the Republic (474DE), the peculiar power
of love to alter opinion is humorously described: lovers are prone
to find tip-tilted noses piquant, sallow skin honeyhued and so forth.
The Philebus goes f a r t h e r and presents the distraction caused by
pleasure in a very vivid passage:
On the other hand when anything of this kind is happening and pleasure
preponderates in the mixture, although the slight element of pain causes
3
413A-C. This being "overpersuaded" must refer to being persuaded by wrong
arguments, for it is argument that steals such opinions.
a tickling and a mild uneasiness, yet the inflowing of pleasure, which

is much stronger, excites you and sometimes makes you j u m p for joy;
it produces all m a n n e r of varieties in your complexion, in your a t t i t u d e ,
in the very breath you draw, and drives you clean o u t of your wits, shout-
ing aloud like a lunatic.'
In the Laws the point is put quite simply: pleasure works its way
by persuasion and by the force of deceit. 5
In the Phaedo, this persuasiveness of pleasure is seen in the per-
spective of salvation, and we are shown why it was t h a t Socrates
was so serious about hedonic illusions in the Protagoras. N o t only
illness or the loss of m o n e y are the consequences of pleasure and pas-
sions. The greatest and most extreme evil is suffered:
The evil is t h a t the soul of every m a n , when it is greatly pleased or
pained by anything, is compelled to believe t h a t t h e object which caused
the emotion is very distinct and very true; b u t it is not. These objects
are mostly the visible ones, are they n o t ?
Certainly.
And when this occurs, is not the soul most completely p u t in bondage
by the b o d y ?
How so ?
Because each pleasure or pain nails it as with a nail to the body and
rivets it on and makes it corporeal, so t h a t it fancies t h e things are t r u e
which the body says are true. For because it has the same beliefs and
pleasures as the body it is compelled to adopt also the same habits a n d
mode of life, and can never depart in p u r i t y to the other world, b u t m u s t
always go away contaminated with the body; a n d so it sinks quickly
into another body again and grows into it, like seed t h a t is sown. Therefore
it has no p a r t in the communion with the divine a n d pure and absolute.
(83C-E)
The Timaeus, like the Phaedo, is concerned with a broad distinction

between body and soul and with a kind of purification, bringing ir-
regular motions into orderly imitations of the divine circles (42AB,
44BC). And again as in the Phaedo, the distracting power of pleasure
is identified as an influence exercised by the body on the soul. 6
4
47A. Hackforth translation. See Timaeus 86BC, among many other passages
on the stunning effect of appetite.
5
863B. At Laws 645E, the obvious observation Is made that the drinking of
wine intensifies pleasures, pains, passions, and lusts and that it also causes a man
to lose his opinions and thoughts. There is no suggestion that it is because of the
first that the second occurs.
• Pain and pleasure are attributed to the sudden deviation from and restoration
W e have, then, an effect of a change in t h e condition of t h e body

on t h e soul, namely, bodily pleasure and pain. This kind of pleasure
and pain, and the appetites a p p r o p r i a t e to this kind of pleasure and
pain, have a power which is described as illusion and as sorcery. And
while t r u e knowledge m a y be proof against such illusion a n d sorcery,
mere opinion is n o t . Even when t h e bodily appetites m i g h t be said
to govern action, this is not done directly, as t h o u g h one could ex-
plain action by reference to t h e s t a t e of t h e stomach or some other
p a r t of t h e body; b u t r a t h e r t h e y govern indirectly, t h r o u g h a kind
of enslaving of t h e soul. In one sense, this more t h a n preserves the
essence of the Socratic position, for not only is it denied t h a t t r u e
knowledge can be overcome, where opinion is overcome it is held to
be t h r o u g h the alteration of opinion. It is as if P l a t o were calling
a t t e n t i o n to t h e f a c t t h a t even in t h e situation which Medea describes
as the overcoming of her plan or intention by her fury, she still acts
t h r o u g h some plan or intention.
P l a t o can thus m a i n t a i n t h a t akrasia is ignorance, a n d he does this.
B u t t h e passages in which such ignorance is developed are shaped
b y t h e deeper explorations of t h e soul which we have mentioned as
t h e psychological a n d the h a b i t u a t i o n stages. In connection with
t h e former of these stages, he goes even f a r t h e r in t h e direction of
E u r i p i d e a n realism t h a n he does in recognizing t h e special power
of pleasure and a p p e t i t e to stun the mind. Before going on to outline
t h e conception of ignorance found in the later dialogues, then, we
will present the main doctrines of this psychological stage.
The Psychological Stage
T h e most striking reference to akrasia in t h e writings of P l a t o is

t h e anecdote about Leontius t h e son of Aglaion, in Book iv of the
Republic. It indicates t h a t no m a t t e r how idealistic P l a t o ' s u l t i m a t e
philosophical vision m a y have been, he did not ignore the relevant
facts, even those which would a p p e a r to tell heavily against his doc-
t o t h e n o r m a l s t a t e of t h e b o d y at Timaeus 64D. See a l s o Gorgias 493, Republic,

5 8 5 , Philebus 31. A t Timaeus 86B, t h e d i s t r a c t i n g p o w e r of t h e s e pleasures a n d
p a i n s is a s s e r t e d and at 86E-87A, t h e t h e m e is g e n e r a l i z e d a n d m a n y t y p e s of ill-
t e m p e r , d e s p o n d e n c y , r a s h n e s s , c o w a r d i c e , and e v e n s t u p i d i t y are a t t r i b u t e d t o t h e
c o n d i t i o n of the b o d y .
34 D E V E L O P M E N T OF PLATO'S THOUGHT
trines. The story is t h a t Leontius was walking along the wall away
from the Piraeus when he noticed some dead bodies t h a t lay at the
place of execution there. At t h e same time, he
felt a desire to see them and a repugnance and aversion, and . . .for a
time he resisted and veiled his head, but overpowered in spite of all by
his desire, with wide staring eyes he rushed up to the corpses and cried,
"There, ye wretches, take your fill of the fine spectacle." (439E-440A)
In this passage P l a t o recognizes the element of conflict t h a t forms
so large a p a r t of some situations which culminate in moral weakness.
In such a conflict there is implied a resistance to the impulses of
appetite, w h e t h e r those impulses be construed as directly controlling
behavior or whether t h e y are construed as " t h e f t s " of opinion. This
element of conflict and resistance is by and large ignored in t h e cog-
nitivist t r e a t m e n t of akrasia t h a t we have followed. Plato may have
been led to consider it closely by reflection on the concept of self-
control. This would normally be thought of as t h e proper opposite
to akrasia; and if akrasia is analyzed as ignorance, it is hard to see
w h a t its opposite could be, except knowledge itself. If, in addition
to knowledge, it should be a d m i t t e d t h a t in some cases there is a
resistance t o t h e t h e f t of opinion, then a whole new psychological
dimension opens to view. P l a t o seems also to have been somewhat
disturbed a b o u t t h e reflexive grammar of the expression "master
of himself," for we find him rejecting a literal understanding of t h a t
phrase: "For he who is m a s t e r of himself would also be subject to
himself, and he who is subject to himself would be master. For t h e
same person is spoken of in all these expressions." 7
7
430E-431A. Compare t h i s passage w i t h a popular criticism of Plato; "But it
m u s t be allowed that h i s l a n g u a g e , . . . d o e s sometimes suggest... the personification of
t h e parts. 'There i s in t h e soul an element which c o m m a n d s and another w h i c h
f o r b i d s ' ( 4 3 9 c 5 ) . B u t a m a n cannot command or rebuke himself." This c i t a t i o n
i s from H a r d i e , A Study, p. 140. W e will take up Hardie's more extended c r i t i c i s m
of the doctrine of parts of the soul in our last chapter. It is interesting that P l a t o
does not seem t o h a v e a d i s t i n c t i v e use for the term eyxgdreia, usually translated
as "self-control" or "self-restraint." A t Phaedrus 256B, it seems a paitial s y n o n y m
for t h e term x6a/iiog, "being orderly." At Republic 390B, it is synonymous w i t h
oaxpgoavvrj, "temperance"; and at 430E, aa)q>Qoovvr) is a kind of iyxgaTeia of the
a p p e t i t e s . The reason for t h i s l a c k of d i s t i n c t i v e n e s s is, of course, that Plato's doctrine
of the parts of t h e soul allows h i m t o analyze self-control into the constituent vir-
t u e s of courage and temperance.
Perhaps we can give to this added psychological dimension the

title of the motivational strength of reason and knowledge, as dis-
tinct from the epistemological strength, although the general problem
of reason's effectiveness in action may outrun the limitations of the
term "motivational." This kind of consideration is buried in the
Protagoras by t h e agreement of Socrates and Protagoras t h a t knowl-
edge is noble and commanding. Here in the Republic, Plato faces
t h e problem of how it is t h a t these commands of reason are obeyed,
for to say an action was commanded, does not sufficiently explain it.
We will return to this general subject of reason's motivational or
psychological powers shortly.
The moral of the story of Leontius is t h a t sometimes we find an-
ger fighting against desire as "an alien thing against an alien." From
the story, Plato develops a division of the soul into three " p a r t s , "
just as he has previously divided society into three classes. It is first
established t h a t the same thing will neither do nor suffer opposites
in the same respect in relation to the same thing a t the same time.
Then it is established t h a t desires are not self-qualifying; desire cannot
impede itself. B u t desires are impeded, and, what is especially im-
portant, they are impeded in connection with rational calculations.
(436C-437E. 439D) Therefore, what inhibits is different from what
desires, and t h u s reason is different from appetite. The story of Leon-
tius establishes t h a t anger, or the spirited part, is different from
appetite, by the same line of argument; and the fact t h a t children
have high spirit without having reason establishes t h a t the spirited
part is different from reason. (441 A-C) There are thus three parts
to the soul: appetite, spirit, and reason.
A host of questions could be asked about this demonstration, and
it has been the subject of many critical discussions, including a very
i m p o r t a n t one by Aristotle. It would be pointless for us to linger
too long over possible objections, but there is one ambiguity which
we should point out in view of criticisms of the doctrine of the tri-
partite soul which we will consider later. In the demonstration it-
self, appetite or desire seems to be taken in a generic way. It would
be very simple to say that, although a given desire might not sen-
sibly be said to inhibit itself, there is nothing illogical about saying
t h a t one desire is inhibited by another. For instance, the desire for
liquid might be inhibited by the desire for rest, in the case of a man
36 DEVELOPMENT OF P L A T O ' S THOUGHT
t o o t i r e d t o reach f o i a d r i n k . B u t P l a t o remains a t the generic level.

T a k i n g t h e a r g u m e n t in this g e n e r i c sense, one m i g h t conclude that
in this d i v i s i o n of t h e soul w e h a v e s o m e t h i n g a k i n t o t h e m o r e m o d -
ern d i v i s i o n of e x p e r i e n c e i n t o t h e a f f e c t i v e , c o n a t i v e , and cognitive
d i m e n s i o n s or aspects. B u t it is i m p o r t a n t to resist this c o n c l u s i o n ,
as P l a t o himself does in a passage l a t e r in t h e Republic:
T h e three parts h a v e also, it appears to m e , three kinds of pleasures, one

peculiar t o each, and similarly three appetites and controls. . . .One
part, w e say, is that w i t h which a m a n learns, one is that with which
he feels anger. B u t the third part, o w i n g to its m a n i f o l d forms, w e could
not easily designate b y any one d i s t i n c t i v e name, but g a v e it the name
of its chief and strongest e l e m e n t ; f o r w e called it t h e a p p e t i t i v e part
because of the intensity of its appetites concerned w i t h f o o d and drink
and l o v e and their a c c o m p a n i m e n t s , and likewise the m o n e y - l o v i n g
part, because m o n e y is the chief instrument f o r the g r a t i f i c a t i o n of such
desires. (580DE)
T h e a p p e t i t i v e p a r t , t h e n , is n o t i d e n t i c a l w i t h a l l desire, f o r t h e r e
is a desire f o r rule, c o n q u e s t , a n d f a m e i n v o l v e d in t h e s p i r i t e d part,
and a desire f o r k n o w l e d g e i n v o l v e d in t h e r a t i o n a l p a r t . This does
n o t m e a n t h a t t h e d i s t i n c t i o n of t h e p a r t s is n o t r e a l d i s t i n c t i o n or
is n o t seriously i n t e n d e d . I t is t r u e t h a t S o c r a t e s s a y s of t h e d i v i s i o n
t h a t " i n m y o p i n i o n w e shall n e v e r a p p r e h e n d this m a t t e r accurately.
( a x Q t f t & s ) f r o m such m e t h o d s as w e a r e n o w e m p l o y i n g in discussion.
F o r t h e r e is a n o t h e r l o n g e r and h a r d e r w a y t h a t conducts to this.
Y e t w e m a y p e r h a p s discuss it on t h e l e v e l of our p r e v i o u s s t a t e m e n t s
and i n q u i r i e s . " 8 B u t this points to the distinction between a rough
a c c o u n t and an exact one, not between a fallaciously superficial
a c c o u n t and a t r u e o n e w h i c h w o u l d c o n t r a d i c t it. S o c r a t e s s a y s t h a t
it is hard t o d e t e r m i n e w h e t h e r w e " l e a r n w i t h o n e p a r t of o u r s e l v e s ,
f e e l a n g e r w i t h a n o t h e r , and w i t h y e t a t h i r d desire t h e pleasure of
nutrition and g e n e r a t i o n and their kind, or whether it is w i t h the
8 435D. T h i s passage is echoed at 504B. H . D . Lee says, on p. 184 of his trans-

lation of the Republic, that this first passage implies that what f o l l o w s is at the
level of "ordinary conversation" and that we are t o set the doctrine of the tripar-
t i t e soul against the "single stream of mental energy m a n i f e s t i n g itself in d i f f e r e n t
a c t i v i t i e s " which is suggested by the Symposium. T h e doctrine of the t r i p a r t i t e
soul seems t o me t o be too f u l l y developed in the Timaeus t o be a mere conversa-
tional convenience, even though the Timaeus, t o o , absolves itself f r o m exactitude,
at 27D f f .
D E V E L O P M E N T OK P L A T O ' S THOUGHT 37
entire soul t h a t we function in each case when we once begin." (436AB)

H a r d though this may be, the argument t h a t ensues is pointless un-
less it purports to determine it. W h a t is not told us in this rough
account of the p a r t s of the soul is precisely what kind of a division
this is—that is, we are not given an account of how we are to take
the concept of p a r t in t h e case of the soul. The doctrine of the three
parts of the soul is also prominent in the Timaeus, but there the prob-
lem is complicated by the fact the parts are treated as sub-souls
and are given location in t h e appropriate regions and organs of the
body. (69 ff.) T h e i m p o r t a n t point about these parts is t h a t they
affect conduct. T h a t this is P l a t o ' s attitude comes out in a passage
in the Laws, where spirit is identified as "one element" in the nature
of t h e soul, either "affection" or " p a r t " (eire ri nadog eire r t ^¿Qog),
and is classed with pleasure and ignorance as things t h a t "urge each
man often to go counter to the actual bent of his own inclination"
(PovXrjaig). (863B-E)
For the subject of akrasia, what is of most interest in the division
of t h e soul is t h e importance assigned to the spirited part, dv/uog,
which we have also translated more simply as "anger." It is im-
p o r t a n t to understand just what psychic functions Plato assigns to
this part of the soul, especially since a hasty reading of the argument
we have summarized might lead one to suppose t h a t in 6vfxo$ we
have an approach to t h e modern conception of the will, in the sense
of a distinctive executive faculty whose weakness explains the failure
of moral reason to be effective in the situation of akrasia. In some
ways Plato's doctrine of the psychic functioning of Ovpioi; does represent
an approach to t h e concept of the will, but it is necessary to place
dvjuog in t h e wider context of a complex and sophisticated position
to understand this correctly.
There seems to be no d o u b t t h a t for Plato reason itself is an efficient
cause. In the analysis of the most general categories of things pre-
sented in t h e Philebus, reason is the presiding cause of the mixture
of the unlimited and the limiting. (26E-31B) There is no need to seek
for some further faculty to explain the fact t h a t things are governed
according to reason. Nonetheless, Plato pays a great deal of attention
to what might be called reason's instruments. In the Timaeus a dis-
tinction is made between the primary cause, which is purposive in-
telligence, and accessory causes, which are moved by other things,
and set other things in motion. (46C-E) The distinction recalls t h a t

of t h e Statesman (281 ff.) between the causal and cooperative arts.
These accessory causes of the Timaeus include movements of the
soul as well as corporeal mechanisms, and the Laws contains a pas-
sage giving a very full list of these:
Soul drives all things in Heaven and earth and sea by its own motions,
of which the names are wish, reflection, forethought, counsel, opinion
true and false, joy, grief, confidence, fear, hate, love, and all the motions
that are akin to these or are prime-working motions; these, when they
take over the secondary motions of bodies, drive them all to increase
and decrease and separation and combination, and, supervening on these,
to heat and cold, heaviness and lightness, hardness and softness, white-
ness and blackness, bitterness and sweetness, and all those qualities
which soul employs, both when it governs all things rightly and happily
as a true goddess, in conjunction with reason, and when, in converse
with unreason, it produces results which are in all respects the opposite.
(896E-897B)
The context of this passage indicates t h a t Plato has in mind both

t h e cosmic soul and the individual human soul. It is curious t h a t
dv/io; does not appear on the list.
It should be apparent t h a t dvpog is not itself to be identified as t h e
executive power of the soul, but t h a t it performs some more restricted
function. If we turn to the social doctrine of the Republic, where
things are easier to discern because they are larger, we find t h a t t h e
spirited class is first introduced as a military class to defend the com-
munity in its external wars, and t h a t a problem is raised as to how
t h e ferocity of the kind of person fitted for such a role can be kept
from venting itself inside the community. (374-375) After an account
of how education can achieve this selective taming, t h e role of t h e
class is expanded. It will now protect the community from enemies
within as well as without, adding t h e task of police to t h a t of t h e
military. 9 Those who were called guardians should now be called
auxiliaries and supporters of the principles of the rulers.
8
Plato no doubt does not think of this as an added function. H e introduces
it in an offhand way, at 414B. Police as d i s t i n c t from the military are, after all,
a modern invention. And to one w i t h the Peloponnesian War in m i n d , the differ-
ence between an external and an internal enemy might not have seemed funda-
mental.
D E V E L O P M E N T O F P L A T O ' S THOUGHT 39
This emphasis on the fundamentally repressive role of dvpog is

enhanced by t h e parallel account for the individual soul given in the
Timaeus a t 69 ff. The rational part of the soul is immortal and is
lodged in the head, separated by the neck from the mortal parts.
The spirited part is the nobler of the mortal parts of the soul and is
located in the chest, separated from the appetitive part by the dia-
phragm. The function of the spirited part is carefully described:
That part of the soul, then, which is of a manly spirit and ambitious
of victory they housed nearer to the head, between the midriff and the
neck, that it might be within hearing of the discourse of reason and join
with it in restraining by force the desires, whenever these should not
willingly consent to obey the word of command from the citadel. The
heart, then, the knot of the veins and the fountain of the blood which
moves impetuously round throughout all the members, they established
in the guardroom, in order that, when the spirit should boil with anger
at a message from reason that some act of wrong is taking place in the
members, whether coming from outside or, it may be, from the desires
within, then every sentient part of the body should quickly, through
all the narrow channels, be made aware of the commands and threats
and hearken with entire obedience, and so suffer the noblest part to
be leader among them all. (70AB. Cornford translation.)
It is worth noticing t h a t the immediately following passage gives
an account of an alternative system of control which is apparently
quite independent of dv/xog. The passage concerns the appetitive p a r t :
And because they knew that it would not understand the discourse of
reason and that, even if it should become aware of any such discourse,
it would not be in its nature to take any heed, whereas it would most
readily fall under the spell of images and phantoms both by night and
by day, the god, designing to gain this very influence formed the liver
and set it in the creature's dwelling-place, and contrived that it should
be a substance close in texture, smooth and bright, possessing both
sweetness and bitterness. The purpose was that the influence proceeding
from the reason should make impressions of its thoughts upon the liver,
which would receive them like a mirror and give back visible images.
This influence would strike terror into the appetitive part, at such times
as, taking a part in the liver's bitterness, it threatens with stern approach;
swiftly suffusing this bitterness throughout the liver, it would cause
bilious colours to appeal thereon; make it all rough and wrinkled by
contraction; and as it shrinks and bows down the lobe, obstructs the
vessels, and closes the entrance, produce pain and nausea. 10
10
71A-E. On p p . 2 8 6 - 2 8 7 of Plato's Cosmology, Cornford n o t e s the o b s c u r i t y of
t h e Greek in t h i s p a s s a g e , b u t n o n e of t h e problems of t r a n s l a t i o n w h i c h he m e n -
0v/x6g exercises what we might call the secondary function of re-

pression, not the primary function of execution. Why, then, does
this part of the soul occupy such an important place in the Republic?
Surely this is because Plato's political and moral thought in this stage
develops from an assumption of crisis and permanent danger. He
sees the bodily appetites and the appetitive masses as perpetually
threatening to overcome the restraints necessary to personal inte-
gration and social harmony. This theme is almost constant through-
out Plato's career. In the Gorgias, one may perhaps take Callicles
as the voice of the appetitive man, and he certainly expresses anar-
chical views, at 484 and 491. At Cratylus 403-404, there is mention
of the flustering and maddening desires of the body which resist the
containment of virtue. The theme is greatly elaborated a t Phaedo
66, where the body is a source of endless trouble through its desires,
and is always breaking in upon philosophizing, causing turmoil and
confusion. The appetitive horse of Phaedrus 253-254, is the mate
of insolence and pride and can hardly be controlled. The most vivid
image for the bodily appetites is the many-headed monster of Re-
public 588, which, however, contains both wild and tame heads. At
Philebus 45, the true nature of bodily pleasure is found in diseased
and vicious conditions. At Timaeus 43, a Spinozistic touch is added
in the observation that the body is caught up in a shifting relation
of influx and efflux with the world. At Timaeus 70, the appetitive
part is compared to a wild animal chained up within men, which must
be nourished if man is to exist. Even in the Laws, where the posi-
tion on the bodily appetites is on the whole significantly more re-
laxed, there is a passage at 647 which seems to suppose t h a t the strug-
gle against the shameless and unrighteous temptations of pleasures
and lusts is to be regarded as normal.
Plato's position, then, is that there are certain appetites which
in their own nature are anarchic, and that there is also a form of anger
which can be directed against these appetites, much as a squad of
t i o n s affect what is of interest for our purposes. These images m u s t h a v e some-

thing t o do w i t h the images of the divided line in the Republic. T h e y could perhaps
be identified with the whip and reins in the m y t h of the chariot and the horses a t
Phaedrus 246A, where the noble horse is presumably to be i d e n t i f i e d w i t h dvftdg.
B u t one should probably not look for a too nice construction of details in such an
inspired but not necessarily functionally coherent figure.
DEVELOPMENT O F PLATO'S THOUGHT 41
police can be directed against a n unruly mob. Presumably, when

this b a t t l e is won by the mob, we have akrasia. W h a t , then, of the
doctrine t h a t akrasia is ignorance ? We should note t h a t in all we have
said so far, the dimension of psychological conflict supplements rather
t h a n replaces the kind of position we found in the Protagoras. This
can be seen most clearly in the definition of courage, the virtue of the
spirited part, given in the Republic: the preservation of opinion about
which things are to be feared and which not under conditions of plea-
sure and pain. (429B-D, 430B, 442C) Perhaps the most f u n d a m e n t a l
police operation of dvfiog is to guard against the t h e f t of opinion;
a n d in t h e passage we cited from the Timaeus, dvfioq seems to play
the role of herald as much as t h a t of police.
In t h e Republic, in the Timaeus, and perhaps in the Phaedrus,
Plato emphasizes the affinity of Ovfiog to reason. In the Republic,
dvfj.6C is t h e ally of reason. (440B-E) In the Timaeus, the spirited
p a r t is described as being within hearing of reason, whereas the appeti-
tive p a r t is deaf a n d can neither understand nor heed the discourse of
reason. (70D-71A, 73A) The spirited horse in the Phaedrus will respond
to the word, whereas the appetitive horse is deaf. (253E) These pas-
sages seem to imply t h a t , j u s t as desire is not restricted to the appe-
titive p a r t , w h a t we might call cognitive functioning is not restricted
to the rational p a r t . At least in t h e Republic, Plato seems to attrib-ite
opinion to this spirited part itself. 11 B u t it should not be forgotten
t h a t it is through education, and especially through "music," t h a t
11
W h e t h e r we are t o go on and say, as Hardie does, t h a t the real j u s t i f i c a t i o n
for the inclusion of Ov/iiq as a part of t h e soul is that it bridges t h e gap between
reason and t h e unruly appetites is not so clear. See Hardie, A Study, pp. 138-45.
H e would make 0v/i6g t o be the e x e c u t i v e faculty b y claiming t h a t Plato has t w o
c o n c e p t i o n s of reason: a fuller conception, which includes the efficeint powers we
h a v e m e n t i o n e d , and a narrower conception, as the faculty for true knowledge alone.
H e sees Bvfiiif as explaining how people in w h o m reason itself is undeveloped manage
t o act as if t h e y were rational. Surely t h i s latter is just the problem of the Meno
and is solved there b y means of the notion of right o p i n i o n . Hardie seems t o be
capitalizing on the confusion of executive and repressive functions which Plato's
suspicion of a p p e t i t e produces in the Republic. A t Symposium 2 0 2 ff., it is ¿(¡cos
which is cast for the role of mediator and is associated w i t h right opinion. See Gould,
Development, p. 54, for an unilluminating explanation of akrasia along those
lines.
t h e conversion of a natural affinity t o t h e presence of right opinion

is accomplished. 1 2
W h e t h e r we are to say t h a t it is t h e spirited part to which t h e fac-
u l t y of opinion belongs, or whether we are to say merely t h a t spirit
can he so educated t h a t it will defend right opinion, is perhaps the
kind of question which cannot be answered by t h e "shorter way"
we are given in t h e P l a t o n i c dialogues themselves. W h a t is impor-
t a n t is t h a t if we return to the wandering of opinion mentioned in
t h e Meno, we now have a way to prevent this wandering: t h e devel-
opment and education of a spirited p a r t of t h e soul. Akrasia can
still be analyzed as ignorance, b u t ignorance is now to be explained
as a failure of Ovpóg as much as it is t h e deception of desire. T h e
correction of this failure is through g y m n a s t i c s and music, which
are to make the soul "color-fast in right opinion." (429D-430A)
G y m n a s t i c s and music are significantly different from t h e a r t of
measurement. T h e proper opposite to akrasia will be courage, and
for our purposes we can say t h a t t h e doctrine of t h e Republic is cen-
tered on t h e virtue of courage.
P l a t o m a y well have gone even farther than this in his recognition
of t h e reality and importance of psychological conflict. T h e r e is a
passage in the Sophist which can be considered as t h e c l i m a x of this
psychological stage of P l a t o ' s thought in t h a t it appears to separ-
a t e conflict from ignorance altogether. In presenting it we will o m i t
those responses which do nothing to a d v a n c e the thought:
We must say that there are two kinds of evil ( x a x i a ) in the soul.
The one is comparable to a disease (vóaog) in the body, the other to
a deformity (ala%o<;).
Perhaps you have not considered that disease and discord ( o r á a i g )
are the same thing?
( I do not know what reply I ought to make to this, either.)
Is that because you think discord is anything else than the disagreement
of the naturally related, brought about by some corruption?
B u t is deformity anything else than the presence of the quality of
disproportion (a/uergía) which is always ugly?
Well then; do we not see that in the souls of worthless men opinions
12 410B-412A. Music seems here to be confined t o our " m u s i c " and not t o t h e
t o t a l realm of the muses. Its effect on dvfxót; is compared t o t h e softening of iron.
W e will make some comparisons between this education to courage and the edu-
cation to temperance mentioned in the Laws when we come to discuss the l a t t e r .
D E V E L O P M E N T OF PLATO'S THOUGHT 43
(do£ai) are opposed to desires (¿mOv/iiai), anger (dvfio;) to pleasures

fjdovai), reason (Xoyog) to pain (Xvnai), and all such things to one another?
Yet they all must be naturally related.
Then we shall be right if we say that wickedness {novrfqia) is a discord
and disease of the soul.
But if things which partake of motion and aim at some particular
mark pass beside the mark and miss it on every occasion when they
try to hit it, shall we say that this happens to them through right propor-
tion (avftfiETgia) to one another or, on the contrary, through disproportion ?
(Evidently through disproportion.)
But yet we know t h a t every soul, if ignorant of anything, is ignorant
against its will.
Now being ignorant (ayvoelv) is nothing else than the aberration of
a soul that aims at truth, when the understanding passes beside the mark.
Then we must regard a foolish soul as deformed and ill-proportioned.
Then there are, it appears, these two kinds of evil in the soul, one
which people call wickedness, which is very clearly a disease.
And the other they call ignorance (ayvoia), but they are not willing
to acknowledge that it is vice, when it arises only in the soul.
(It must certainly be admitted, though I disputed it when you said
it just now, that there are two kinds of vice in the soul, and that coward-
ice, intemperance (axokaaia), and injustice must all alike be considered a
disease in us, and the widespread and various condition of ignorance
must be regarded as a deformity.) 1 '
In a following passage this general class of ignorance (ayvoia) is di-

vided into an unnamed kind and the kind which is "large and griev-
ous." This is the ignorance which is unaware of itself and is called
a/iadia. (229BC) W e h a v e so far covered three conceptions of a/iadia:
in the Protagoras, the ignorance which is akrasia is a/xadia. In the
Republic, afiaBia is included with intemperance and cowardice as
instances of injustice, t h e interference of one part with the proper
function of another. (444B) Here in the Sophist, afiaOia is ignorance
with conceit of wisdom. We will encounter yet a fourth conception
when we come to the Laws.
It has been argued by R. Hackforth t h a t in the Republic reason
is treated as unerring and t h a t dfiadia there is conceived as only due
to the domination of reason by the irrational part. In the Sophist,
H a c k f o r t h continues, Plato overcompensates for this extreme a view
13
227E-228E. Cornford does not translate t h i s passage in Plato's Theory of Know-
ledge-, but he s u m m a r i z e s it on p. 179, calling attention to the importance of con-
f l i c t in the Republic.
of reason and outlines a kind of failure of reason per se. 'Afiadia

here is not due to the suppression of reason by another part of the
soul, and Hackforth also argues t h a t the position presented in the
Sophist is t h a t no vice springs from such a suppression of reason. 14
It must be confessed t h a t this disproportion of the soul is somewhat
mysterious, but it is possible to interpret it in a way which is con-
sistent with the doctrine of the Republic. It is possible to take this
disproportion as the presence of false opinions due to the relatively
great size of the appetitive and/or spirited parts as compared with
the rational part, just as in the Timaeus the relatively dispropor-
tionate size of the body produces a/xadia. (88B) As Hackforth notes,
the aim of reason is always the same, knowledge of the true good,
b u t the influence of the other parts may cause it to miss its mark.
This constant aim makes the purification by dialectic possible, and
in both the Sophist and the Republic reason is treated as unerring
only if it has been educated. 16
Presumably, the conflicts which are mentioned in the Sophist are
between right, t h a t is, educated opinion, anger, and reason, on the
one hand, and desire, pleasure, and pain, on the other. Punishment,
rather than dialectic, is the curative measure for these diseases; and
presumably it is directed against desire, pleasure, and pain. We are
not told whether the victory of desire, pleasure, and pain would con-
stitute a theft of opinion or not. It does not seem correct to say, as
Cornford does, that "Vice is not here identified with ignorance (as
by Socrates), but distinguished from it." 14 Ignorance is distinguished
from novTjgta, but still is a kind of xaxia in the soul. And we are
not told whether the outcome of oraoig might not be that very afiadia
which is due to disproportion, and which must be cured by dialectical
14
R. Hackforth, "Moral E v i l a n d I g n o r a n c e in P l a t o ' s E t h i c s , " The Classical
Quarterly, X L (1946). H a c k f o r t h a l s o refers t o a p a s s a g e a t Laws 863B ff., and
r e g a r d s Timaeus 86B, w h e r e t h e i n f l u e n c e of t h e b o d y a n d of b a d u p b r i n g i n g in
t h e p r o d u c t i o n of v i c e i s s t r e s s e d , a s g i v i n g P l a t o ' s real d o c t r i n e . W e w i l l c o n s i d e r
t h e s e p a s s a g e s later.
15
H a c k f o r t h refers t o Republic 441E a n d 4 4 2 c for t h e t r e a t m e n t of reason a s
u n e r r i n g in t h e Republic. T h e f i r s t p a s s a g e s a y s t h a t it b e l o n g s t o r e a s o n t o g o v e r n
a n d t h e s e c o n d t h a t m a n i s w i s e b y t h e p o s s e s s i o n b y reason of k n o w l e d g e of w h a t
i s b e n e f i c i a l for t h e w h o l e . T h a t i s , it is v i r t u o u s reason w h i c h is u n e r r i n g .
14
Plato's Theory o/ Knowledge, p. 179.
D E V E L O P M E N T OF PLATO'S THOUGHT 45
refutation before further education can take place. This does not
look like a very plausible interpretation of what is said in the Sophist;
but when we come to the Laws we will see that the older terminology
is preserved, and conflict itself is once again called dfiadia. (689A)
Whatever we are to make of these fine issues of interpretation,
we can see the broad outlines of this stage of Plato's thought fairly
well. He admits that concentration on the epistemological aspect
of akrasia does not do justice to the facts, and he adds to the art of
measurement the punitive powers of anger as important for the over-
coming of akrasia. The development of those punitive powers re-
quires a kind of education which is different from purely intellectual
education. There will be yet one more shift in his thought, a shift
which is not so clearly defined. To appreciate the emphases which
we find in the Laws, we will have to approach them by an account
of the revision of Plato's thought regarding courage, which we find
in certain of the later dialogues.
Courage and Temperance in Plato's Later Dialogues
The change of doctrine we must trace in this section is not even

as explicit as t h a t we have just outlined. It is rather a shifting of
emphasis, with the differences emerging most clearly if the Republic
is compared with the Laws. The difference between the Republic
and the Laws has often been described as the difference between
idealism and realism, and the realism has been attributed to Plato's
disillusionment concerning the possibilities of actual human nature.
Sometimes this disillusionment in turn is related to the Syracusan
adventures which made Plato despair of a philosopher king. Re-
gardless of the effect of Syracusan adventures, I think it hardly pos-
sible to find a man more disillusioned concerning the possibilities
of actual human nature than the man who wrote the Republic. It is
an obvious misinterpretation of the Republic to suppose t h a t it is
intended for an immediate political program. The man who argued
in the Phaedo t h a t visible lines are never ideally straight was not
a man to entertain high hopes for the visible city. But the man who
thought that carrying babies about would reduce the grip of fear
on men, as Plato does in the Laws, had not totally given up on the
possibilities of human nature. It is true that in the Statesman and
46 D E V E L O P M E N T O F P L A T O ' S THOUGHT
in the Laws political programs are expounded with the admonition

t h a t they are to be regarded as "second best;" and it is true t h a t in
the case of the Laws, the very detail of the program leads one t o say
t h a t it is more realistic t h a n t h a t of the Republic, where detail is
left to the improvisation of the Guardians. If we must find this a
basic change, and if we must associate this change with historical
events, we would do better to consider the activity of the Academy
than the Syracusan adventures. If Plato was actually advising the
rulers of cities, he could no longer adopt the cavalier air of the Republic
towards the possibilities of this world. 17
So far as the subject of akrasia is concerned, the shift from the Repub-
lic to the Laws is not so great as the shift from the Protagoras to the
Republic. Compared with so-called Socratic doctrine on the subject, the
Republic is realistic and the Laws only refines this realism. The course
of Plato's moral philosophy exhibits a more and more careful delin-
eation of the virtues; and in pursuit of this interest the Laws is not to
be regarded as a work of disillusionment, fatigue, or senility, but rather
as a continuation which itself will be amplified and refined by the
moral philosophy of Aristotle. W h a t transpires between the Republic
and the Laws is t h a t courage is reinterpreted, and loses its prominence
in the system of virtues, while temperance is given closer attention,
and comes to the fore. This shift goes hand in hand with a greater
concern for temperaments and the habituative dimension of education.
This is only a shift in emphasis and not a clean break in doctrine, and
the older distinctions survive. We have two tasks before us, then:
to bring out these shifts of emphasis in a continuous line of thought
and to determine the effect of these shifts on the conception of akrasia.
Near the end of the Statesman, the Stranger says t h a t in order to
understand the royal a r t of political weaving, a difficult matter has to
be explained. This is the araaig of two of the parts of virtue itself,
courage (avdgeia) and temperance (aaxpgoavvrj). It turns out t h a t
17
At Laws 709E, the A t h e n i a n is asked what c o n d i t i o n s he would require In a
state before he could organize i t . H i s answer is that the state should be governed
b y a young tyrant w i t h a good m e m o r y , quickness t o learn, courage, and n a t i v e
temperance. This tyrant should be associated w i t h a great legislator. We m a y
h a v e here Plato's conception of what D i o n y s i u s should have been, t o make t h e
Syracusan adventure successful. It is n o t a despairing passage, considering t h e
o u t c o m e of t h a t adventure.
each is the virtue of a certain t y p e of t e m p e r a m e n t . Courage is the

virtue of the quick and energetic t e m p e r a m e n t and temperance is
the virtue of t h e slow and gentle t e m p e r a m e n t . E a c h t e m p e r a m e n t
can lead to disaster. The quiet and gentle m a n loves t h e retired life
and shuns war, and so he can eventually come to slavery a t the hands
of aggressors. The quick and energetic love t h e a c t i v i t y of war and
eventually over-reach themselves, with the same result. The royal
a r t is to combine these two n a t u r e s b y selecting those people of each
with the capacity for education and imparting to t h e m right opinion
concerning honor, justice, and w h a t is good a n d b a d . W i t h o u t this
education the courageous soul inclines toward b r u t a l i t y and t h e
gentle soul toward silliness. W i t h education, courage can p a r t a k e
of justice and temperance, of wisdom. 1 8
Temperance in the Republic is not rooted in a t y p e of t e m p e r a m e n t .
It is the agreement of ruler and ruled as to who ought to rule, and
hence it is the domination of the pleasures of the inferior by those
of the superior. Like a h a r m o n y , it belongs to all its constituents.
(431A-432B, 442CD) Since right opinion is a p a r t of courage, it would
seem t h a t the distinctiveness of temperance is the acquiescence of
t h e appetitive p a r t in the rule of the wise. B u t we are not told how
this acquiescence is to be achieved, and t h e implication is t h a t it
will not be a very thorough acquiescence. It seems as if Plato decided
t h a t this account of the virtues given in the Republic exaggerated
t h e qualities of courage and left temperance without its specific col-
oring of gentleness and quietness. Still, much of w h a t is said in the
Statesman is there, b u t not nearly so prominent. The gentle n a t u r e
is mentioned, as is the opposition between the gentle and the spirited,
the blending of the two by breeding, and the salutary effects of edu-
cation on each. It is even said t h a t the soul of the man who com-
bines t h e two natures is "sober" (adxpgatv). w B u t the gentle n a t u r e
18
306-310. A j u d i c i o u s intermarriage p o l i c y is also recommended. Political
weaving i s mentioned at Laws 735, but there the warp is i d e n t i f i e d w i t h office-
holders and t h e woof w i t h those w h o h a v e been u n t e s t e d by e d u c a t i o n . T w o e x -
tremes, one m a k i n g the soul braggart and insolent, the other m a k i n g it illiberal
and base, are m e n t i o n e d r t Laws 728.
18
375C-E, 410C-E. The t w o natures are harmonized rather t h a n interwoven;
and savagery is not treated as an innate t e n d e n c y of spirit, but rather as the e f f e c t
of overexercise. A s in the Statesman, education will render gentleness "orderly"
48 D E V E L O P M E N T OF PLATO'S THOUGHT
is forgotten when the definition of temperance is given, and the over-all

emphasis of the Republic is rather upon the spirited nature and upon
courage.
When one first turns to the Laws, the impression is received t h a t
the process of redressing the balance between temperance and courage
is carried even further than it is in the Statesman. The entire burden
of Book i of the Laws is t h a t the Spartan institutions which concen-
trate on the development of courage are inadequate. Peace, not
war, should be the aim of the lawgiver. The problems that domestic
pleasures pose are treated as at least as important as the problems
posed by alien enemies. Most of the book is concerned with the possi-
bilities of the festive use of wine as a test of character, in relation
to the temptations of pleasure. This extended analysis of the possi-
bilities of festivity must seem out of proportion unless it is seen in
contrast to the rigorous testing of the Spartans in relation to pain
and unless t h a t contrast is seen as a fundamental theme of the dia-
logue. This intent is epitomized in a formal ordering of goods :
Now goods are of two kinds, human and divine; and the human goods
are dependent on the divine, and he who receives the greater acquires
also the less, or else he is bereft of both. The lesser goods are those of
which health ranks first, beauty second; the third is strength, in running
and all other bodily exercises; and the fourth is wealth. . . . And wisdom,
in turn, has first place among the goods that are divine, and rational
temperance of soul comes second; from these two, when united with
courage, there issues justice, as the third; and the fourth is courage.
(631B-D)
To a reader of the Republic it must be surprising to find courage

rated so low, and there are other remarks made in the Laws which
are surprising to the reader of the Republic but not so surprising to
the reader of the Statesman. It is said t h a t courage without temper-
ance is unworthy of honor and is as undesirable as cleverness without
temperance. 20 It is said t h a t every man should be spirited, but t h a t
most of all he should be gentle. He should be spirited because only
(xioftioi;). It is worth n o t i c i n g that gentleness is treated as an inborn nature in

these passages of the Republic, and not as a quality obtainable b y education alone.
The same thing will be said of courage and temperance in the Laws.
20
696 A-C. The courage that is mentioned here is identified as a part of v i r t u e .
It is to be compared with justice, which cannot e x i s t apart from temperance.
DEVELOPMENT O F PLATO'S THOUGHT 49
by fighting can one defend oneself against the acts of injustice b y

others who are incurably vicious. (731BC) And near t h e end of the
Laws, in a last inquiry into the problem with which Plato has Socrates
badger Protagoras, the problem of the unity and diversity of virtue
as illustrated in t h e relations of wisdom and courage, Plato says w h a t
he had Protagoras say then, t h a t courage is different in kind from
wisdom. F o r "a courageous soul comes into existence naturally and
without reasoning, b u t without reasoning there never yet came into
existence, a n d t h e r e does not nor ever will exist, a soul t h a t is wise
and rational, it being a distinct kind." 2 1
The impression gained from such passages is t h a t P l a t o has a b a n -
doned w h a t was most essential to his philosophical conception of
courage: t h a t it is directed a t internal enemies even more t h a n a t
external ones, a n d t h a t it is directed a t pleasure and appetite even
more directly t h a n a t pain and fear. In the Republic courage c a n n o t
exist without wisdom, in which it participates by its association with
right opinion. Such an alteration must point to alterations in t h e
underlying conception of human nature.
It is t r u e t h a t t h e context of crisis stemming from the assumption
of the a n a r c h y of appetite which is prominent in t h e Republic, and
which leads P l a t o to conceive of self-control on a military analogy,
is also mentioned in the Laws. The Laws, too, speaks of t h e victory
over oneself, t h e first and best of victories, which implies t h a t "a war
against self exists within each of us." (626E) This civil war of the
soul is more difficult than the ordinary foreign war and requires
a courage which is superior to t h a t of the mercenary soldier. (629c-
630D) And this "civil" courage is wider in its scope t h a n a Spartan
might imagine:
Splendid, O Stranger of Lacedaemon I But come now, as to courage,
how shall we define it ? Shall we define it quite simply as battling against
fears and pains only, or as against desires also and pleasures, with their
dangerous enticements and flatteries, which melt men's hearts like wax—
even men most reverenced in their own conceit? (633CD)
B u t it is i m p o r t a n t t h a t the remark about war going on within
every one of us is made by the Cretan, not by the Athenian. We
21
963 E. Compare Protagoras 349 D-351 B. This should indicate that Plato is deal-
ing with the popular courage mentioned at Phaedo 68D, but we are not t o l d this.
See what is said below about temperance.
would do well even here in the relatively u n d r a m a t i c Laws to pay

some attention to setting. All these remarks are addressed to a Spartan
and the Athenian is trying to lead him to a wider vision of politics
and human nature t h a n Spartan institutions would give him. In
t h e context of a critical transition from Spartan t o Platonic institu-
tions it is natural to lead the way to temperance by introducing the phil-
osophical conception of courage presented in t h e Republic a t the very
same time t h a t preparation is made for going beyond t h a t conception.
When the Athenian t a k e s up t h e r e m a r k a b o u t the omnipresent
inner war, he first establishes the concept of an order of command
a n d obedience and then proclaims t h e superiority of reconciliation
to outright victory. His conclusion gives the tone of much of the
remainder of the dialogue:
The highest good, however, is neither war nor civil strife—which things we
should pray rather to be saved from—but peace with one another and
friendly feeling. Moreover, it would seem that the victory we mentioned
of a State over itself is not one of the best things but one of those things
which are necessary. For imagine a man supposing t h a t a human body
was best off when it was sick and purged with physic, while never giving
a thought to the case of the body t h a t needs no physic at all I (628DE)
Despite the presence of passages which recall the Republic, then, the
first impression is correct: in the Laws P l a t o does not make so much
of the virtue of courage as he does of temperance, and when he men-
tions courage he does not emphasize the educated virtue as much
as he does the native temperament. While he does not ignore the
internal use of this temperament, he has seen t h a t where there is
temperance there is little occasion for this use. And the primary
aim of education and institutions should be the achievement of recon-
ciliation and temperance. Reconciliation and temperance were not
entirely absent from the Republic, b u t very little was said a b o u t
how appetite and reason are to be reconciled; the dominant concern
was for the situation in which they are not reconciled.
Perhaps Plato began to t a k e more seriously the reservations a b o u t
Ovftog which are prominent even in the Republic. At 441BC, it is
pointed out t h a t children, animals, and m a n y adults have dv/xog
in t h e form of a capacity for unreasoning rage, so t h a t a sharp dis-
tinction must be made between the natural capacity and the devel-
oped virtue of courage, where anger is dependent on a j u d g m e n t of
wrong. At 572A, the spirited part is identified as an irrational principle
along with appetite, and one of the precautions taken by the virtuous
man upon going to sleep is to allay the spirited part if he has a quarrel
with anyone. At 586CD, the spirited as well as the appetitive part
are said to be exposed to an insane pursuit of evanescent pleasures
when devoid of the guidance of wisdom. We have already noted
the development of these reservations in the Statesman. They are
further developed in the Timaeus, where at 90B, ambition is grouped
with appetite as interests that make thought mortal; and in the Laws,
where a t 863B, Ovfiog is said to be hard to strive against and to over-
turn many things by irrational force. These passages raise a nice
question: if Ovfiog is the ally of reason in The axaan; of reason and
appetite, what is the ally of reason in the araaig of reason and Ov/iogl
Indeed, some of the "control" functions exercised by the spirited

part in the Republic are presented in quite a different guise in the
Laws. The burden of Book i is that military courage is not needed
so much as shame ( a l o x v v r j ) and reverence (aidwg). These are not
the defiance of fear, but are said at 647A to be the possession of fear—
the fear of an evil reputation. At 671D, they are called "divine fear"
and at 699c they are associated with placing one's trust in the gods
as the Athenians did when they defeated the Persians. We are thus
led away from military emphases and into a conception of religion
as the center of life. At 716D, it is proclaimed that the temperate
life is the one that is agreeable with and similar to God. At 803C-E,
man is pronounced the plaything of the gods and is urged to a life
appropriate to that status, a life of singing, dancing, and sacrificing.
Throughout Book x religion is developed as a primary instrument
of social control.
We have said that while courage is diminished in these later dia-
logues, temperance is somewhat augmented. In the Laws temperance
is treated as a native temperament, and the Athenian remarks t h a t
he is concerned for
temperance, that is, of the ordinary kind; not the kind men mean when
they use academic language and identify temperance with wisdom
(<pgovT]oig), but that kind which by natural instinct springs up at birth
in children and animals, so that some are not incontinent, and others
continent, in respect of pleasures."
i2
710 A. P e r h a p s t h e r e i s a reference here t o t h e r e d u c t i o n of t e m p e r a n c e to
(pgdvrjaii a t Phaedo 69 AB.
This inclination towards moderation and temperance is expressed in

womanly melodies and r h y t h m s — a d e p a r t u r e from the doctrine of t h e
Republic t h a t sex is not relevant to moral n a t u r e and a reminder t h a t
P l a t o saw in marriage an example of t h e weaving of t e m p e r a m e n t s
called for in the Statesman,23 Perhaps the most important feature of
this conception of temperance is its s t a t u s as an "accompanying virtue."
Temperance by it elf is not worthy of either praise or blame, b u t
temperance added to the other virtues makes them more beneficial t h a n
before and more worthy of honor. (696DE, 710AB)
It would thus seem t h a t although P l a t o did not give up his suspi-
cions of t h e actual appetites of most actual men, he came to make
something more of the kind of t e m p e r a m e n t in which the appetites
are naturally moderate. This constitutes a definite shift in his con-
ception of human n a t u r e and opens t h e way to yet another dimension
in his reflection on akrasia and other kinds of moral failure. In this
last stage of his t h o u g h t we will find a deepened conception of moral
education and a return to the conception of akrasia as ignorance—an
ignorance of a different type from t h a t envisaged in the Protagoras,
however.
The Habituation Stage
The keynote to this last phase in Plato's thought a b o u t akrasia

and related topics can be found in a passage near the end of the Timaeus:
We might almost say, indeed, of all that is called incontinence (axqareia)
in pleasure that it is not justly made a reproach, as if men were willingly
bad. No one is willingly bad; the bad man becomes so because of some
faulty habit of body and unenlightened upbringing, and these are un-
welcome afflictions that come to any man against his will. ( 8 6 D E )
There follows an account of the disorders of the soul caused by various
conditions of the body, and then the theme is taken up again:
Besides all this, when men of so bad a composition dwell in cities with
evil forms of government, where no less evil discourse is held both in
public and private, and where, moreover, no course of study t h a t might
M
Marriage as a way to even out the extremes of opposites is advocated at Laws
773B, but nothing is said there about the spécifié womanliness of the temperate
nature.
D E V E L O P M E N T O F PLATO'S THOUGHT 53
counteract this poison is pursued from youth upward, that is how all of
us who are bad become so, through two causes that are altogether against
the will. For these the blame must fall upon the parents rather than
the offspring, and upon those who give, rather than those who receive,
nurture; nevertheless, a man must use his utmost endeavour by means
of education, pursuits, and study to escape from badness and lay hold
upon its contrary. (87AB)
In t h e Laws, Plato envisages a situation where education is given a
somewhat more tractable material with which to work t h a n is implied
in these passages. W e have seen how the temperate n a t u r e is t o be
propagated, and as a f u r t h e r preliminary measure there is mentioned a
"purification" in which those who are corrupted beyond redemption are
to be sent away. 84 The lawgiver has two resources in dealing with
this more tractable material: persuasion and force. Though the context
in which this is pointed o u t a t 722B concerns the "preludes" which
explain and justify t h e law, in the wider context of the dialogue as a
whole it is clear t h a t t h e most f u n d a m e n t a l feature of Platonic persua-
sion is education ( n a i d e i a ) .
P l a t o distinguishes between moral and technical education a t 643A-
644B of the Laws. He summarizes the doctrine of the Laws as t o t h e
importance of moral education by saying a t 766A, t h a t with a f o r t u n a t e
n a t u r e and proper education m a n becomes the most divine and civilized
of the animals, b u t t h a t w i t h o u t either of these he becomes the most
savage. A good deal of the actual "curriculum" proposed in the Laws
does not seem to vary significantly from t h a t proposed in the Republic,
and both versions are b u t revisions of traditional education. In Books ii
and iii of the Republic the traditional gymnastics and music are a d o p t e d .
Gymnastic is to be aimed a t war, which is in keeping with the e m p h a -
sis of the Republic; the only departures from common practice are
t h e recommendations of greater simplicity of diet and moderation of
exercise. So far as music is concerned, P l a t o eliminates dirges and
drinking songs and confines melody and r h y t h m to those modes ex-
pressive of military moods and those celebrating the orderly round
of daily activities. The bulk of remarks a b o u t early education are
directed at the censorship of poetry and m y t h : gods and heroes m u s t
not be presented as acting unworthily, and nothing should be presented
which might inspire fear or licentiousness. No one should act out t h e
M
735-736. This is r e m i n i s c e n t of t h e "clean slate" of Republic 501.
role of a vulgar or inferior character in studying drama. Much the

same kind of thing is said in Book vii of the Laws: gymnastics should
include the handling of weapons, a t which the young should become
ambidextrous. The dance should include war dances in full armor.
Poetry, melody, and rhythm are similarly censored; and comedy is
to be seen, b u t not acted, by citizens. The only obvious difference
is t h a t dancing is justified because of its conversion of native physical
restlessness into harmonious motion.
However, the Laws differs from the Republic in carrying the process
of education back into the earliest life of the infant. The opening
passages of Book vii of the Laws describe a remarkable educational
regime which begins prenatally, when pregnant women are to walk
about to overcome excessive internal motions by the application
of external motions, on the order of a Bacchantic cure. This process
is to be continued in infancy, when children are to be constantly
carried about. In this way the fears of infants are allayed; and to
diminish fear and promote moderation, children under three years
of age are to experience as little sorrow, pain, and intense pleasure
as is possible. These passages taken with the passages about the use
of wine in testing and training character constitute Plato's concrete
contributions to the direct moral education of the appetites themselves.
They are overbalanced by the education of the spirited part. But
regardless of whether or not Plato's pedagogical imagination kept
pace with his underlying grasp of human nature, the principle of this
program of the habituation of the appetites is clearly enough expressed
in the following passage about naideta :
What I state is this,—that in children the first childish sensations are
pleasure and pain, and that it is in these first that goodness and badness
come to the soul; but as to wisdom and settled true opinions, a man is
lucky if they come to him even in old age; and he that is possessed of
these blessings, and all that they comprise, is indeed a perfect man. I
term, then, the goodness that first comes to children "education" (naideia).
When pleasure and love, and pain and hatred, spring up rightly in the
souls of those who are unable as yet to grasp a rational account; and
when, after grasping the rational account, they consent thereunto through
having been rightly trained in fitting practices:—this consent, viewed
as a whole, is goodness, while the part of it that is rightly trained in
respect of pleasures and pains, so as to hate what ought to be hated, right
from the beginning up to the very end, and to love what ought to be
loved,—if you were to mark this part off in your definition and call it
"education," you would be giving it, in my opinion, its right name.

(653A-C)
This education achieves the consent or harmony of the soul by achiev-

ing not right opinion, but right h a b i t . I n this it is somewhat dif-
ferent from the moral education proposed in the Republic, where
even though habituation plays a part, little is said about habituation
as distinct from the inculcation of right opinion. Perhaps it occurred
to Plato that music and gymnastics amount to a kind of habituation
anyway, and it certainly occured to him t h a t it might be possible
to carry moral education through to the appetitive p a r t itself.
It would not be too fanciful to suggest t h a t commensurate with
this primary education there should be a kind of primary "knowledge"
and hence a primary ignorance. When discussing the way t h a t virtuous
lives are desirable by nature, since they yield the best balance of
pleasure over pain, Plato says:
The lives of us men must all be regarded as naturally bound up in these
feelings, and what kinds of lives we naturally desire is what we must
distinguish; but if we assert that we desire anything else, we only say
so through ignorance (ayvoia) and inexperience (ajieigia) of the lives
as they really are.»*
With this new version of ignorance, the absence of right habit, we
are ready for a transmuted return to the position of the Protagoras,
that akrasia amounts to dfiaQia. After discussing the ignorance of
the most important human affairs which caused the ruin of the Dorian
kingdoms, despite the presence of institutions promoting military
courage, Plato offers the following generalization:
What kind of ignorance (a/iaBia) would deserve to be called the "greatest" ?
. . . That which we see in the man who hates, instead of loving, what
he judges (<5o'fa) to be noble and good, while he loves and cherishes what
he judges to be evil and unjust. That want of accord, on the part of the
feelings of pain and pleasure, with the rational judgment (rj xaxa. Xoyov
do£a) is, I maintain, the extreme form of ignorance, and also the "great-
est" because it belongs to the main mass of the soul,—for the part of
the soul that feels pain and pleasure corresponds to the mass of the
44
See also 655E-656A, where an opposition of <pvaiq and rjOog or avvijdeia is dis-
cussed. In Chapter V, Development, Gould brings out this reliance on habit and
practice, contrasting it w i t h Socratic reliance on rexvrj.
14
733D. On p. 78, ibid., Gould p o i n t s out the s i m i l a r i t y of t h e childhood training
described at 6 4 3 c t o t h e iftneigia of the Gorgias.
populace in the State. So whenever this part opposes what are by nature
the ruling principles—knowledge (imaxrjfjiri), opinion (do£a), or reason
(X6yo$),—this condition I call folly, whether it be in a State, when the
masses disobey the rulers and the laws, or in an individual, when the
noble elements of reason existing in the soul produce no good effect, but
quite the contrary. All these I would count as the most discordant forms
of ignorance, whether in the State or the individual, and not the igno-
rance of the artisan,—if you grasp my meaning, Strangers. (689 A-C)
This passage is not terminologically consistent with the passage we
discussed from the Sophist, in which araaig and ajiadia are carefully
distinguished. That Plato is stretching the concept of ignorance comes
out in other passages where the distinction of the Sophist is main-
tained—for instance at 734B, where it is said that "no man can pos-
sibly be licentious voluntarily: it is owing to ignorance (afiadia) or
incontinence (axgazeia), or both, that the great bulk of mankind
live lives lacking in temperance." But the passage is not doctrinally
inconsistent, for the ignorance contemplated in the Sophist is the ab-
sence of right opinion, not the absence of right habit.
It might seem that with this passage we are back where we began,
in the Protagoras. In both, the phenomenon of akrasia is diagnosed
as a/iadia. B u t this terminological similarity only underscores the
great difference in the underlying conceptions. In the Protagoras the
motivational supremacy of reason is assumed without argument. Here
in the Laws, we have the result of extensive and repeated efforts to
discover the psychic conditions in which the motivational supremacy
of reason can be assured. In the Protagoras, the emphasis on
cognitive control, or choice, is so great that it is assumed that even
in those cases in which pleasure and pain control conduct, belief
regarding pleasure and pain does the controlling. In the Laws we
find the legacy of the Republic and the Sophist. Belief, calculation,
reason, and knowledge are clearly distinguished from pleasure and
pain.27 The most convincing demonstration of the distance that sep-
27 S e e 6 4 4 c - 6 4 5 c , for a t h r e e - f o l d d i s t i n c t i o n b e t w e e n pleasure-pain, e x p e c t a t i o n s ,
and calculations (Xoyiaôi). A t 8 6 3 B - 8 6 4 B , dv/iopleasure, and i g n o r a n c e , b o t h
s i m p l e a n d w i t h c o n c e i t of w i s d o m , are i d e n t i f i e d as t h i n g s t h a t urge m a n to go
counter to his inclination (0otiArjai;). In t h i s l a t t e r p a s s a g e , the domination of
e v e n a m i s t a k e n o p i n i o n as t o w h a t is b e s t is t e r m e d " j u s t i c e . " and t h e d o m i n a t i o n
of dvfids, fear, a n d pleasure is t e r m e d " i n j u s t i c e . " I t m a y be a q u e s t i o n as to w h e t h e r
t h e m i s t a k e s w h i c h a r e c a u s e d b y hedonic illusion which figure in t h e Protagoras
should be called " o p i n i o n s of t h e b e s t " or s i m p l y "opinions."
arates the two positions lies in the remedies proposed for dfiadla. In
the Protagoras the remedy is an art of measurement. In the Laws
the remedy is some kind of reconditioning, the most obvious instrument
of which is punishment. It is not even said that appetite works a
theft of opinion. Indeed, the precondition for such "ignorance" is
that appetite does not work such a theft—-the person hates what
he judges to be noble and good. Plato chooses to call disharmony
"ignorance," and a t 689CD, he goes on to say that the most extreme
form of knowledge is harmony. 28 What makes the difference between
ignorance and knowledge here is not correct opinion but the right
habituation of the appetites. Such right habituation does not make
the vision of the noble and the good possible, as seems to be implied
in the Phaedrus, the Symposium, and the Republic. Rather, right
habituation makes such a vision effective.
Should one take this passage in a straightforward, literal w a y ?
Perhaps we should take such expressions as "discord is the extreme
form of ignorance" and "harmony is the greatest wisdom" as per-
suasive rather than doctrinal. It is disconcerting to have to conclude
that the course of Plato's thought on the subject of akrasia represents
an evolution from the position which we attributed to Socrates to the
position we attributed to Euripides, even to the extent that the
ingenious doctrine of the distinction between opinion and knowledge is
all but abandoned, so far as motivation is concerned. Though one may
be suspicious of where the passages lead, one can only work from the
passages themselves; and if our interpretations are a t all correct, this is
where they lead. Perhaps we could see why it is that Plato might move
toward the Euripidean position. It is traditional to contrast his
social concern to the individual concern of Socrates, and this difference
of concern might enforce a subtle difference of outlook. Socrates
we can see as a participant in moral deliberation, practicing analysis
on what is confessed in dialectical interchange. Plato is rather an
artist-legislator, and his subject matter is given to him through the
observation of men, much as it is given to Euripides. And while
2 8 He dodges the issue for a moment when he asks " F o r without harmony
(ft>fi<pwvia), my friends, how could even the smallest fraction of wisdom ((pgdvrjaic)
e x i s t ? " He has just made it quite clear that ¿niarrj/irj, S6;a and k6yoq can exist
without harmony. Perhaps we have in germ here the Aristotelian conception of
(pQ6vr]Oii as practical wisdom.
conflict and weakness are seldom if ever confessed in t h e course of t h e

reasoning by which men decide the right thing to do or t h e best life
t o live, they are only too apparent to one who pays less attention
to what men say and more to what they do. This is not, of course,
to say t h a t Socrates did not observe men or t h a t Plato did not intend
t o influence individual decisions, b u t only t h a t t h e perspectives and
emphases of t h e two types of thinker are somewhat different.
There is a final possibility to consider before bringing t h e account
of the development of Plato's thought on akrasia and related subjects
to a close. This concerns t h e kind of "knowledge" which is especially
appropriate to t h e appetitive p a r t of t h e soul. We have identified
this "knowledge" as right habit, b u t it m a y be t h a t it also has some-
thing to do with right images. We have already mentioned the role
of images in controlling appetite as outlined in the Timaeus, at 71A-E.
The Philebus contains a relevant discussion of t h e t r u t h and falsity
of pleasures, a t 36C-41B, which can be summarized thus: Ordinarily it is
said t h a t only opinions can have t r u t h or falsity, and if pleasures
and pains have either of these qualifications, it must be only t r u t h . For
when one is in pleasure or pain he knows t h a t he is; and when he knows
t h a t he is, he is. B u t one can have a pleasure or a pain and be mis-
taken, not about whether one is having it or not, b u t a b o u t w h a t
its causes are. One can also have pleasures and pains in connection
with opinions about the future. T h a t is, one can have hopes and fears.
Hopes and fears can occur in connection with images as well as with
propositional "writings." Such hopeful or fearful imaginations can be
t h e product of memory, sense, and feeling, painted on the soul, as it
were, by the unification of these three. Hopes, then, are not only
for pleasures, they are themselves pleasurable. Fears are painful in t h e
same way. Now, t h e hopes of the good man are true in t h e sense
t h a t they are realized, those of t h e bad m a n are false in t h e sense
t h a t they are not. The implication of this analysis may be t h a t appe-
titive knowledge and ignorance have something to do with the t r u t h
a n d falsity of pleasures and pains and these hopeful and fearful images.
This is only a possibility, however, for P l a t o expressly distinguishes
between such expectations and pleasure and pain themselves, a t
Laws 644CD. B u t Aristotle's discussions of imagination and move-
m e n t must stand in some kind of continuity with these pas-
sages.
In has not been our aim in this survey of the Socratic and Platonic
background to Aristotle's analysis of akrasia to locate specific passages
that correspond to the details of that analysis. This project is no
longer novel and has been well advanced by the commentators, notably
Burnet and Dirlmeier. Our aim has been rather to set Aristotle's re-
marks in a broader historical context than is usually offered. When
Aristotle's analysis is related to the contrast between the Socratic
and the Euripidean positions, and to the course of Plato's thought away
from the Socratic and toward the Euripidean positions, the affinities of
Aristotle's treatment come clear. These affinities are to the Socratic
position and to the earlier stages of Plato's thought. Aristotle seems
to go back to a strong emphasis on choice and decision and hence to
the indispensability of knowledge or belief to action. By the time of the
Laws, Plato no longer maintains the same strictness regarding the
implications of choice that are implicit in the Protagoras and insisted
upon in the Phaedo. He does not abandon these implications, but he is
capable of referring in the same passage to pleasure and pain as "coun-
sellors" (^v/iôvXoi), on the one hand, and as strings that drag us about,
on the other. (644C-E). Aristotle is not tempted to see men in this
way, as puppets or victims. Although the concept of habituation
which is central to this last stage of Plato's thought is central to Aris-
totle's conception of moral virtue, in his analysis of akrasia, Aristotle
returns to the earlier emphasis on the doctrine of the "theft of opinion."
It has been suggested that his analysis of akrasia falls relatively early
in Aristotle's career, and if so, it is curious that the earlier Aristotle
should link up with earlier Plato. But like Plato, Aristotle tries to
do justice to both sides of this issue, and this effort gives rise to an
ingenuity of analysis that manages to compress into a few short para-
graphs almost as many difficulties as one finds in the entire course
of Plato's thought.
CHAPTER III
SOME PRELIMINARY QUESTIONS
Before we examine the account of akrasia which is found in the Aris-

totelian Corpus, we must turn aside to certain preliminary problems.
W e have four such problems with which to contend. First, there is
t h e possibility argued by Cook Wilson t h a t the t e x t of chapter 3, Book
vii of the Nicomachean Ethics, the major t e x t concerning akrasia, is
non-Aristotelian. We will take a short way with this difficulty here
and say t h a t the evidence for this position is not conclusive. The detail
of the argument can be found in the appendix devoted to it. The
second problem concerns the placing of Book vii with the Eudemian
or the Nicomachean Ethics. Again, it is difficult to obtain conclusive
results. The third problem is more serious philosophically and here
we shall take a stronger stand. This is the problem of the chronological
relationship of both the Eudemian and the Nicomachean Ethics to the
De Anima. It has recently been claimed t h a t the ethical works reveal
an earlier and significantly different psychology. Finally, there is a
problem with much the same bearing, concerning the departmentaliza-
tion of Aristotle's thought, for it has been argued t h a t regardless of
t h e chronological relationships of the ethical and "scientific" works,
Aristotle works with one psychology when he thinks about ethics and
with another when he thinks about the more general problems of the
De Anima. We cannot a t t e m p t anything like definitive solutions to
these complex and interlocking problems, b u t we should indicate how
they stand and argue for the commitments t h a t underlie this study.
Following Aristotle's own procedure, we should avoid unnecessary
confusion by making it clear which sense of the term akrasia we are
pursuing. He himself distinguishes between akrasia in the unqualified
sense (axgaaia anXux;) and akrasia applied by analogy or similitude
(axQaaia xar' ¿fioioTT)ra). The distinction is one of subject-matter:
unqualified akrasia refers to the pleasures of touch and taste, including
sexual pleasures, which are necessary to the bodily functions. The
t e r m is applied by analogy to sources of pleasure which he describes
SOME P R E L I M I N A R Y Q U E S T I O N S 61
as choiceworthy in themselves, such as victory, honor, and wealth;

and it is also applied by analogy to morbid or depraved sources of
pleasure such as cannibalism, biting nails, and sexual perversion. 1
But there are further distinctions to be made regarding Aristotle's
own use of the term. It is used in two broad senses. In the one it
is almost synonymous with AxoXaaia and might be translated as
"license," "intemperance," "incontinence," or "unrestraint." In this
sense it indicates only a comparatively great propensity to gratify
physical appetites. The other sense is more technical. It refers to
the moral disposition in which reason is overcome by appetite and is
translated as "lack of self-control," "weakness of will," "moral weak-
ness," or "incontinence." The occurrences of the term in the biological
writings will illustrate the first sense and those in Book vii of the
Nicomachean Ethics, the second. We should understand that it is with
the second sense that we are concerned, of which the following is a
representative definition:
But there is a person who abandons his choice, against right principle,
under the influence of passion, who is mastered by passion sufficiently
for him not to act in accordance with right principle, but not so com-
pletely as to be of such a character as to believe that the reckless pursuit
of pleasure is right. This is the unrestrained man.'
1
The major reference for these distinctions in N.E. 1147b20-1149a24. In E.E.
they are found a t 1231a26, where it is the pleasures of sight, smell, and sound which
are contrasted with those of taste and touch. Akrasiais included as an afterthought
in a chapter devoted to awipgoavvrj and dxoXaaia, and it is AxoXaaia which has
many senses and is applied by analogy (6vofidCovxef fieraipigofiev) at 1230b9-13.
The distinction occurs at t h e appropriate places in the Magna Moralia: 1201a35-
1201b2, 1202a29-1202b9 and following. It is taken up in the Problems at 949b20
and 949b37. These are not, of course, the only places where the general restriction
of temperance and intemperance to the physical pleasures is mentioned. The major
reference for this restriction is N.E. 1117b23-1119a20.
2
N.E. 1151a20-24. Akrasia (dxpaTTjj is included as well a ¿xgareta) is literally
"powerlessness," and there seems to be such a literal use at 744a31 of the De
Generatione Animalium, where children are said to lack control over the head because
of the heaviness of the brain. It would appear, then, t h a t the first sense, "license" or
"intemperance," is a development out of the second sense, specifically moral power-
lessness. I am not in a position to substantiate this. Examples of the first sense
can be found at 774a4, De Generatione Animalium, referring to the difference be-
tween intemperance in the case of fluids and of solids. Its possibility must be
kept in mind. Thus at E.E. 1229b34 it is said that if dying were pleasant, profligates
(oi axdkaoToi) would be dying constantly, owing to lack of self-control (¿t' axga-
62 SOME P R E L I M I N A R Y QUESTIONS
This is the sense of akrasia which is employed in the bulk of the discus-
sions of moral subjects in the explicitly ethical writings and in the
Rhetoric and De Anima.* There will be further refinements to trace
in due order, but this broad distinction will be sufficient to carry us
through the first phases of the discussion.
The Disputed Books
We shall now turn somewhat briefly to the problem created by the

disconcerting fact that the manuscripts of the Eudemian Ethics in-
olav). We must not suppose that this passage is inconsistent with others in which
dxoXaaia is expressly distinguished from akrasia, rather we have different senses
of the term akrasia Sometimes it is hard to decide which sense is being used.
At E.N. 1119b31, is a passage which is translated by Rackham "but Prodigality
is sometimes used with a wider connotation, since we call the unrestrained (axga-
xeii) and those who squander money on debauchery (axoXaaia) prodigal; therefore
prodigality is thought to be extremely wicked, because it is a combination of vices."
It is not akrasia and axoXaaia that are the vices, but axoXaaia and squandering.
Akrasia is synonymous with axoXaaia here. But perhaps a difference between t h e
two is intended. The ambiguity of akrasia makes it unclear whether the xal is
conjunctive or explicative. In this passage the matter is of little importance, but
there are others where the importance is somewhat greater. At E.N. 1142bl8,
the ambiguity occurs in a passage which is crucial for the interpretation of the
relation of akrasia to practical reason. Rackham translates, "A man of deficient
self-restraint or a bad man (6 yog a x g a n j ; xai o <pavXo<;) may as a result of
calculation arrive at the object he proposes as the right thing to do, so t h a t he will
have deliberated correctly, although he will have gained something extremely evil. "
Again, is the xai a true conjunctive? Is the axgaTijg here merely one who pursues
his excessive passions or is he one who has his reasoning overcome by his passions?
If he is the former, we have here an example of reasoning in axoXaaia, and a sug-
gestion as to what kind of reasoning Aristotle supposed this to be. If he is the
latter, we have a problem of interpretation, for we are told elsewhere that the
axgarrji; goes against his deliberation. Have we two types of deliberation here?
8
The Politics, naturally, has little concerning akrasia, but there is one reference
at 1310al4-19 to "political" akrasia, in which the best laws are to no avail if the
young are not trained by habit and education in the spirit of the constitution.
The Rhetoric is rich in summary analyses: 1368bl0 ff. discusses akrasia and the
voluntary; 1372bll ff. relates akrasia to time and pleasure; 1389a2 ff. relates it to
youth and age and the various strengths of the passions. The De Anima makes use
of the phenomenon of akrasia in determining the cause of movement at 433al ff.
and continues with a brief but extremely important analysis of the situation of
akrasia.
SOME P R E L I M I N A R Y QUESTIONS 63
d i c a t e t h a t B o o k s iv, v , a n d v i of t h a t w o r k are identical w i t h B o o k s v ,

vi, a n d v i i of t h e Nicomachean Ethics. To which work do these three
books belong? A r e t h e y t o b e t a k e n as a n integral w h o l e , or m u s t t h e
q u e s t i o n be a n s w e r e d for e a c h one, or e v e n portions of e a c h one, s e p a -
rately? It is d i f f i c u l t t o d e a l w i t h t h e s e q u e s t i o n s i n d e p e n d e n t l y of
the wider question concerning chronology. So far as t h e evidence
f r o m v o c a b u l a r y a n d r e f e r e n c e s goes, it s e e m s to p o i n t t o t h e Eudemian
c h a r a c t e r of t h e three b o o k s . 4 T h i s is t h e conclusion a d o p t e d b y t h e
m o s t r e c e n t t r e a t m e n t s of t h e s u b j e c t . 6 So far as t h e d i s c u s s i o n of
a k r a s i a is c o n c e r n e d , if w e a b s t r a c t f r o m t h e detail of r e f e r e n c e s a n d
vocabulary, it w o u l d s e e m t o f i t e q u a l l y well in e i t h e r t r e a t i s e , or
w i t h neither, if w e a d o p t t h e position of Cook W i l s o n . B u t it seems
to f i t i n t o e a c h in a d i f f e r e n t w a y , and t h e d i f f e r e n c e s are r a t h e r striking.
4
This evidence is conveniently collected by Stock. See Aristotle, Magna Moralia,
trans. St. George Stock, pp. xv-xviii. Stock believed that the Eudemian Ethics
was not by Aristotle, which complicated his inquiry, seeing that there arc references
to the disputed books in the Politics as well as a use of the word ôpoç in both the
Eudemian Ethics and the Politics but not in the Nicomachean Ethics. If the Eude-
mian Ethics is by Aristotle this kind of difficulty is lessened.
s
See Gauthier and Jolif, L'Éthique I, 43*-47*, for a review of the scholarship.
Their conclusion is that the three books are Eudemian in origin but that they have
been considerably revised and inserted into the Nicomachean Ethics by Aristotle
himself, except perhaps for the treatise on pleasure which forms ch. 12-14 of Book vii.
They suggest on p. 56*, especially in note 142, that the three books are omitted
from the Eudemian manuscripts because they were omitted by Eudemus himself
in preparing the first edition of that work. This was done because Nicomachus
had already edited them for the Nicomachean Ethics. This hypothesis raises a small
problem: it assumes that the Eudemian Ethics represents the earlier stage of Aris-
totle's thought and t h a t there is little significant variation in the doctrines of the
two works. Why did Eudemus edit the earlier version at all, t h e n ? Simply t o pre-
serve every available word of the master? Godo Lieberg, in Die Lehre von der Lust
in den Ethiken des Aristotetes, gives a more thorough review of scholarship, on pp.
2-15. He concludes likewise t h a t the disputed books originally belonged to the
Eudemian Ethics, b u t he suggests, on p. 14, that Aristotle rewrote these three books,
that they were later corrupted, and t h a t the earlier books on the same subjects
were taken over into the Nicomachean Ethics. This kind of thing was more likely
to happen to a series of ngayfiaretai (discussions of a single subject) t h a n to afinished
treatise, where internal connections would make substitutions difficult. Both
Gauthier-Jolif and Lieberg regard the Nicomachean Ethics as a loosely joined series
of jiQayfiazeiai rather than a finished treatise, although Gauthier and Jolif do
not think t h i s precludes a coherent structure for the whole. See L'Éthique 1,52*,
for an analysis of this structure.
64 SOME PRELIMINARY QUESTIONS
Outside of relatively casual references, akrasia receives extended

attention in chapters 7 and 8 of Book ii of the Eudemian Ethics. There
is no discussion of comparable length in the Nicomachean Ethics. The
only passage which approaches it occurs in chapter 13 of Book i. It
is worth comparing these two discussions. The Eudemian chapters
contain an extended exposition of the paradoxes that arise when akra-
sia and ¿yxgaxeia are taken into account in defining the voluntary.
The Nicomachean passage uses akrasia and ¿yxgdreta. as supporting
illustrations of the presence of an irrational part of the soul which can
participate in reason. When we turn to the passage in which the
voluntary is defined in the Nicomachean Ethics, we find no mention
of akrasia or ¿yxgdreta. ( N . E . 1109b30 - 1111 b3) The discussion is
confined to the varieties of compulsion and ignorance which do not
involve the opposition of the rational and the desiring principles.
A discussion of some 140 lines included in the Eudemian Ethics is not
to be found in the Nicomachean Ethics. In the ensuing discussion of
choice (jigoaigsaiz) there is the slightest echo of this long discussion,
when it is said that the axQaxrjq acts from desire, but not choice, and
the IyxQaxrji; from choice, but not desire. (N.E. I l l l b l 3 - 1 5 ) This
omission is certainly curious, to say the least, and calls attention to
the passage in which the author of the Eudemian Ethics seems to
justify his protracted concern for akrasia and ¿yxgaTEia:
In animate things the moving principle is simple, but in living things it
is multiple, for appetition and rational principle are not always in har-
mony. Hence whereas in the case of the other animals the factor of
force is simple, as it is in the case of inanimate objects, for animals do
not possess rational principle and appetition in opposition to it, but
live by their appetition, in man both forms of force are present—that is,
at a certain age, the age to which we attribute action in the proper sense;
for we do not speak of a child as acting, any more than a wild animal,
but only a person who has attained to acting by rational calculation.
So what is forced always seems to be painful, and no one acting under
force acts gladly. Consequently there is a great deal of dispute about
the self-controlled man and the uncontrolled.®
The writer seems to indicate that he devotes so much attention to

these subjects because there is much dispute about them, which dispute
4
E.E. 1224a23-32. Is it possible that this "dispute" concerning the iyxQaxrj-
and the axgaTiji has something to do with the further discussion called for in the
Laws and the treatise IJegi 'Eyxgareias by Xenocrates?
SOME PRELIMINARY QUESTIONS 65
is quite understandable if we consider the complexity of the human

moving principle. For the writer of the Nicomachean Ethics, the com-
plexity of the moving principle is not treated as directly relevant to
the definition of the voluntary — one presumes that the dispute has
faded or is not considered to be of primary importance. Perhaps
Aristotle came to think that iyxgdxeia and akrasia are not defining
cases, however much they might be difficult cases. Cook Wilson claimed
that the omitted lines constitute a discussion of the state of mind
of the àxQarr)ç far in advance of anything to be found in the Nicoma-
chean Ethics.'7 Regardless of whether this is so, it is worth pointing
out that the subject of these lines is not akrasia as such, but rather,
the voluntary. And whether the treatment of that subject in the
Eudemian Ethics is far in advance of the treatment in the Nicomachean
Ethics depends on whether one thinks that akrasia is tangential to the
topic or not. If Aristotle produced both accounts, he presumably
decided that the voluntary is to be defined with respect to the undi-
vided man and that his discussion should not be governed by a dis-
pute. This can be understood as an advance in thought and might
even suggest an inquiry into the relative prominence of such disputes
as points of departure in the Eudemian and Nicomachean Ethics and
other works as well, with an eye to the emergence of Aristotle as a
thinker pursuing his own conceptions. Akrasia is also mentioned in
both works in the discussion of self-love, and while there are differences
in these two discussions, they do not concern the use of akrasia.
In the Eudemian Ethics, then, the analysis of akrasia would find
a place as a contribution to a much-debated subject which had occa-
sioned confusion regarding some of the fundamental concepts of ethics,
especially the concept of the voluntary. Its place in the Nicomachean
Ethics is not quite so clear. Akrasia receives occasional mention in
that work and is prominent in an important argument establishing
the parts of the soul and their relation to reason, but this would hardly
seem to warrant the extended discussion in Book vii. This discussion
seems rather to fit naturally into the Nichomachean Ethics as an ap-
pendix to the discussion of virtue. 8 Aristotle himself, or whoever edited
7
Cook Wilson, Structure, pp. 34, 53.
' This is the position adopted by Gauthier and Jolif. See L'Éthique I, 52*. They
discuss and reject t h e thesis t h a t chapters 1-10 form p a r t of a t r e a t m e n t of
the ethical works, seems to have been somewhat uneasy about just
how to introduce the subject. The opening sentence is, "Let us next
begin a fresh part of the subject by laying down t h a t the states of
moral character to be avoided are of three kinds—Vice, Unrestraint,
and Bestiality." ( N . E . 1145al5-17) Perhaps the importance attached
to akrasia in this discussion is to be attributed to the fact that Aristotle
believes t h a t most men incline toward it. (N.E. 1150al5-16)
The Chronology of the Ethical and Psychological Works
Further speculation about the placing of the three books requires

an hypothesis concerning the chronology of the two Ethics themselves.
It will be of some interest to review the two most prominent positions
on this question, since the evidence by which they are supported
is of direct relevance to the interpretation of Book vii. These are the
positions of W. Jaeger and of F. Nuyens, the latter as developed by
Gauthier and Jolif. According to both positions, the Eudemian Ethics
is genuinely Aristotelian and is not the work of his disciple Eudemus
of Rhodes, except for the possibility of editorial work; and according
to both positions the Eudemian Ethics is earlier than the Nicomachean
Ethics. The differences between the positions concern the dating of the
Nicomachean Ethics and the grounds on which the chronology is sup-
ported.
Jaeger's position is that "The series Philebus, Protrepticus, Eude-
mian Ethics, Nicomachean Ethics, evinces an irrefutable historical
logic." 9 He supports this series with several arguments, but the major
argument concerns the conception of ipgovrjaii; in the Aristotelian
members of the series. He is able to determine the relations between
the two Ethics by reconstructing much of the earlier dialogue by
Aristotle, the Protrepticus. Once this is done, a major contrast is found
between this work and the Nicomachean Ethics. Behind the version
of <pgóvr¡aig developed in the Protrepticus stands one of the "innate
¿yxgáreta as a s u b d i v i s i o n of t h e general t r e a t m e n t of w i s d o m , ¿yxgárcia being

t h e reign of reason t h r o u g h sheer intellectual p o w e r . I concur with their position,
s i n c e i t is akrasia, rather t h a n cyxgdreia, w h i c h p r e d o m i n a t e s in t h o s e c h a p t e r s ,
a n d l i t t l e if a n y t h i n g is said a b o u t sheer i n t e l l e c t u a l p o w e r .
• W . Jaeger, Aristotle, p. 2 3 8 .
ideas" of the Greek spirit. 0govT)aig "may be interpreted as the creative

apprehension of pure goodness through the inner intuition of the soul
and at the same time as an apprehension of pure being, and also
as the derivation of valuable activity and true knowledge from one
and the same fundamental power of the mind." 10 In the Protrepticus
it is the knowledge of nature and truth, of that which is exact in itself,
a knowledge, moreover, which is the true science of measure in life.
In other words, it is the knowledge of the Platonic Forms.
Jaeger assumes that Book vi belongs to the Nicomachean Ethics.
He finds that in that book, Aristotle excludes the knowledge of the
highest and most valuable things from the province of (pQovrjais and
presents quite a different conception of it. &Q6VT]OIS is deliberation con-
cerning weal and woe, and it has as its object the fleeting details of
life. Its function is not the apprehension of the universal norm, but
the discovery of the right means of attaining the end determined by
the moral will. This revision is consistent with the rejection of the
Forms which is found in Book i of the Nicomachean Ethics.11 The
Eudemian Ethics now falls into place between the Protrepticus and
the Nicomachean Ethics. In it, Aristotle has abandoned the theory
of Forms, but he has retained the earlier conception of (pgdvyotg as
"the philosophical faculty that beholds the highest real value, . . . in
transcendental contemplation, and makes this contemplation the
standard of will and action; it is still both theoretical knowledge of
supersensible being and practical moral insight." 18 It is possible for
Aristotle to retain this conception because, in place of the Forms, it
is God who stands as the absolute value or highest good. And Jaeger
links this concern for God in the "original Ethics" to a similar concern
in the "original Metaphysics" (including Book Lambda).13
If Jaeger's position were correct, we could see why akrasia looms so
much larger in the Eudemian Ethics than in the Nicomachean. It may
be no great wonder if deliberation concerning the details of human
weal and woe, a deliberation which is confined to the discovery of
means, should be ineffective in the face of desires which set competing
10 Ibid., p. 81.
11 Ibid., pp. 8 1 - 8 2 . T h e argument is further developed in the following pages
and again on pp. 236 ff.
12 Ibid., p. 239.
13 Ibid., p. 246. For Book Lambda see pp. 219-27.
ends b e f o r e the d e l i b e r a t i v e f a c u l t y . B u t it would be a serious problem

if the vision of God should be similarly i n e f f e c t i v e . Jaeger thinks
t h a t the three disputed books belong to the Nicomachean Ethics,
since the conception of (pgóvtjaig as narrowly practical and confined to
particulars is found in B o o k v i . On this reading, then, we should
expect akrasia t o be a r e l a t i v e l y minor problem, and we should look to
t h e passages concerning <pgóvr¡aig to elucidate w h a t obscurities we
might find. T h e r e is one passage in chapter 2 of B o o k vii which seems
t o contain w i t h i n itself t h e revolution which Jaeger points out. The
c o n t e x t is the question w h e t h e r we blame a man for yielding to t e m p t a -
tions if he does not h a v e true knowledge, but only weak and v a c i l l a t i n g
opinion.
Is it then when desire is opposed b y Prudence ((pQovrjoig) that we blame

a man for yielding? For Prudence is extremely strong (iaxvQÓrarov).
But this is strange, for it means that the same person can be at once
prudent and unrestrained ( á x p a r j f c ) ; yet no one whatsoever would main-
tain that the prudent man is capable of doing voluntarily the basest
actions. A n d furthermore it has already been shown that Prudence
displays itself in action (for it is concerned with ultimate particulars)
and implies the possession of the other Virtues as well. ( N . E . 1146a4-9)
The " s t r e n g t h " of <pgóvr]aig could well recall a more exalted con-
ception of t h a t v i r t u e . T h a t " s t r e n g t h " becomes trivial when it is
explained t h a t one cannot h a v e (pgovrjoig without the other v i r t u e s — i t
is not (pQovrjoiQ which is strong, but t h e y . Being concerned with
ultimate particulars, w e shall learn, is just w h a t would render <pQÓvr¡ou;
w e a k , f o r desire can alter our apprehension of particulars.
Jaeger's predilection for inexorable historical sequences has not
achieved the status of historical i n e v i t a b i l i t y itself. It has been argued
that B o o k Lambda of the Metaphysics belongs to the last period
of A r i s t o t l e ' s life, a f a c t which would break the progression from
theological metaphysics to positive science, which Jaeger saw as
another instance of a historical law. 14 A t the other end of the line,
it has been argued that w e cannot reconstruct enough of A r i s t o t l e ' s
dialogue, the Prolrepticus, to use i t as a base f o r any chronological
theories. 15 Perhaps the most direct criticism of Jaeger's position is the
14 See G a u t h i e r and J o l i f , L'Éthique I , 2 6 * - 3 0 * , for a r e v i e w of the bearing of

this argument on Jaeger's p o s i t i o n .
14 See W . G . R a b i n o w i t z , Aristotle's Protrepticus and the Sources for its Recon-
charge that he has committed a petitio principii in supposing that

Book vi of the Nicomachean Ethics is late, and then has used the fact
that Book vi contains the late conception of <PQ6VT)OIQ to establish the
fact that Book vi is late. 18 Despite these criticisms, few seem inclined
to revive the "Eudemian Question." We shall adopt the hypothesis
that the Eudemian Ethics represents an earlier version of Aristotle's
ethical thought, and we shall pay careful attention to ambiguities,
if not stages, in the conception of tpgovrjaig as a clue to understanding
the analysis of akrasia.
The other prominent chronological position is that presented by
F. Nuyens and elaborated for the ethical writings by Gauthier and
Jolif in the introduction to their French translation of the Nicomachean
Ethics and by Gauthier alone in his short work, La Morale d'Aristote."
Nuyens attempts to work out the successive stages of Aristotle's doc-
trine concerning the relation of the soul to the body. In the first stage,
represented by the dialogue Eudemus, the soul is a substance, "une
ovata au sens platonicien." 18 It is thus independent of the body, and
its union with the body is counter to its own essence. Aristotle argued
in favor of its préexistence and immortality. The next stage, repre-
sented by the dialogue Protrepiicus, shows Aristotle taking the first
steps in his own development of the problem. 19 Here the natural
opposition of the soul and the body is to some extent overcome by
a hierarchical conception according to which the soul commands and
the body obeys. Then there comes a stage which is dominated by
Aristotle's biological researches and in which the psychology can be
found in the De Partibus Animalium and the De Moiu Animalium.M
Nuyens labels this psychology "l'instrumentisme mécaniste," indicating
thus that the body is the instrument of the soul. The soul and the
struclion I. The position of R a b i n o w i t z has been critically reviewed b y D . J . Allan

in t h e Classical Quarterly N.S. I X (1959), 124-27.
18
See Gauthier and Jolif, L'Éthique I, 28*. G a u t h i e r and Jolif claim t h a t in
both Ethics the h a b i t u a l sense for (pgovrjaiç is the Platonic version of wisdom, and
t h a t in both Ethics there are occurrences of t h e "technical" sense of Book v i .
17
Nuyens, L'Évolution. This is a t r a n s l a t i o n of Ontwikkelingsmomenten in de
zielkunde van Aristoleles, which appeared in 1939. The other works are those already
cited.
18
Nuyens, I.'Évolution, p. 83. The analysis of t h e Eudemus occurs at pp. 81-90.
19
Ibid., pp. 90-95.
20
Ibid., pp. 159-61.
body, while still distinct as two "things," are, however, completely

adapted to one another. According to this conception, the soul, or
at least part of the soul, is localized in the heart. Although it might be
possible to maintain a doctrine of immortality on these grounds, Aris-
totle seems to have rejected personal immortality in this stage.11 The
last stage of Aristotle's reflections on the relation of body and soul
is represented by the De Anima.** Here the soul is the form of the
living body, and although it is a substantial form, it cannot exist apart
from the body of which it is the form and with which it makes up the
single substance which is the living creature. This is a development
of a tentative position taken in Book i of the De Partibus, according
to which part of the soul might be a substantial form. In this final
view the soul could hardly be immortal, since it cannot exist independ-
ently of the living body. Nuyens traces through the theories of knowl-
edge appropriate to each of these stages and concludes that the prob-
lem of the active intellect as it is developed in Book iii of the De
Anima represents Aristotle's unsuccessful effort to reconcile his con-
ception of the transcendence of vovç with his conception of the sub-
stantial unity of the soul and the body. 23
This theory of the evolution of Aristotle's psychology affords Nuyens
a single chronological criterion. The most important result of the
application of this criterion to the ethical writings is the placing of the
Nicomachean Ethics in the instrumentist stage. It is found to be later
than the Eudemian Ethics but prior to the development of the final
hylemorphic stage represented by the De Anima.2* This is taken
to imply that the Nicomachean Ethics is not Aristotle's definitive
work on the subject, for he was prevented by his flight from Athens
and death shortly thereafter from developing a hylemorphic morality
21
N u y e n s does n o t go into t h i s q u e s t i o n a t length. Gauthier and Jolit dicuss
it on 24*-25», L'Éthique I.
22
The De Anima is d i s c u s s e d at length: N u y e n s , L'Évolution, pp. 215-50. The
crucial a r g u m e n t s are at pp. 237-43.
23
This d i s c u s s i o n is in some w a y s the c u l m i n a t i n g p o i n t of t h e book. It fills
chapter V I I , pp. 265-318.
u
Ibid., pp. 185-93. Gauthier and Jolif present an over-all chronological table
of Aristotle's works on the b a s i s of N u y e n s ' criterion following 36*, L'Éthique I.
T h e y date the Eudemian Ethics at a p p r o x i m a t e l y 348/7, during the stay at Assos.
The Nicomachean Ethics is dated a t about 3 3 5 / 4 , shortly after the return t o Athens.
The De Anima is dated at some t i m e between 3 3 0 and 3 2 3 / 2 .
which would do justice to the newly discovered substantial unity

of m a n . "
If this account of Aristotle's development should be adopted, two
repercussions on the study of akrasia would be obvious. No major
difference should be seen between the treatments in the Eudemian and
Nicomachean Eihics, which would reduce considerably the importance of
placing the disputed books. And caution should be used in elucidating
these works by the De Anima, for the latter would involve radically
different assumptions. It might seem t h a t over-all theories about the
relation of the soul to the body have little direct bearing on a problem
which concerns relations between various parts or functions of the
soul itself. But the distinction between bodily pleasures and other
kinds of pleasures is certainly prominent in the discussion of akrasia,
and there is a crucial passage which explicitly calls for an account of
relations between soul and body for its interpretation:
If we ask how the unrestrained man's ignorance is dissipated and he
returns to a state of knowledge, the explanation is the same as in the
case of drunkenness and sleep, and is not peculiar to the failure of self-
restraint. We must go for it to physiology {naqa rd>v <pvaioXoya>v).u
It is curious t h a t although there are several brief analyses of akrasia
in chapters 9, 10, and 11 of Book iii of the De Anima, there is no men-
tion of any physiological origination. This is curious because one
might have thought that attention to physiological factors would
be more prominent in a work which stressed the unity of soul and
body than it would be in a work which assumed the instrumental
subordination of the body to the soul. Especially, one might expect
attention to physiological factors after one has been informed t h a t the
26
T h e s e i m p l i c a t i o n s are brought o u t b y G a u t h i e r and J o l i f on pp. 35*-36*,
ibid. T h e y are m o r e f u l l y d i s c u s s e d at pp. 14-15 of Gauthier's La Morale. It is
s u g g e s t e d t h a t a h y l e m o r p h i c m o r a l i t y w o u l d n o t separate corporeal and p s y c h i c
values as m u c h as t h e t w o Ethics do.
28
N.E. 1 1 4 7 b 6 - 8 . W h o or w h a t are t h e <pvoioX6yoit Is o n e t o a s s u m e that w h a t
we call physiological t r e a t m e n t is w h a t is i m p l i e d h e r e ? Burnet's n o t e to t h e pas-
sage on p. 3 0 4 of The Ethics refers t o t h e DeSomno and t h e Problems, where such
a t r e a t m e n t is offered. A . Grant, in The Ethics of Aristotle II, 207, refers t o Hera-
cleitus. H e is f o l l o w e d b y S t e w a r t in Notes II, 161. D i r l m e i e r t h i n k s t h a t it
is rather s o m e o n e l i k e D i o g e n e s of A p o l l o n i a t h a t i s i n t e n d e d . See Nikomachische
Elhik, p. 4 8 2 . T h e references in t h e B o n i t z Index support Grant and Dirlmeier
rather t h a n B u r n e t . In a n y e v e n t , t h e material cause w i l l be s t r e s s e d .
affections (TÔ nâOr]) of t h e soul are e n m a t t e r e d formulas ( X S y o t IvvXot)

a n d t h a t definitions of t h e m ought to specify a m o v e m e n t m a d e by
a body in a particular state, or p a r t of a capacity of such a body, set off
by something for a certain end. (De Anima 403a 24-27) Of course,
it might be the case t h a t instrumentist assumptions would lead to
a t t e n t i o n to the body just because it is t h o u g h t of a separate e n t i t y ,
whereas hylemorphic assumptions would lead to omission of mention
of the body just because it is assumed as an essential aspect of psychic
functioning.
B u t it is also possible t h a t Nuyens has exaggerated t h e difference
between the assumptions of t h e so called i n s t r u m e n t i s t a n d hylemor-
phic phases. He calls a t t e n t i o n to a passage in t h e De Anima which
explains how the soul is t h e final cause of the body a n d is hence hyle-
morphic in bearing—but he does not call a t t e n t i o n to t h e i n s t r u m e n t i s t
vocabulary in which this is expressed:
And it is clear t h a t the soul is the cause in the sense of the final cause.
For just as the mind acts with some end in view, so in the same way does
nature, and this is its end. This, then is the nature of the soul among
living creatures, and this is in accordance with nature; for all natural
bodies are the instruments (ôçyava) of the soul, and just as is the case
with the bodies of animals, so with those of plants, in the sense t h a t
they exist for the sake of the s o u l . "
T h i s is n o t t h e only place where t h e i n s t r u m e n t i s t v o c a b u l a r y can be

found in t h e De Anima. A f t e r saying t h a t most of those who theorize
a b o u t t h e soul say nothing a b o u t t h e condition of the b o d y in which
t h e soul acts, and is acted upon, Aristotle concludes with a n analogy:
B u t they talk as if one could suppose t h a t carpentry can find its way
into flute-playing; each craft must employ (xp?ji<T0at) its own tools (ogyava),
and each soul its own b o d y . "
In both these passages the instrumentist vocabulary is used to
m a k e a point which might be regarded as more a p p r o p r i a t e to t h e
27
4 1 5 b l 5 - 2 0 . " O g y a v a is translated as "organs" by Smith in the Oxford transla-
t i o n . N u y e n s renders it by "instruments" on p. 244, L'Évolution. "Instrument"
l i t s Liddell and Scott. Italics mine.
28
407b24-26. I owe this reference and this line of criticism to Dr. Charles Kahn.
One might say that Aristotle slipped back into a familiar idiom in such passages.
B u t if be was conscious of making a major departure from instrumentism would
it not be more likely that he would avoid the idiom ?
hylemorphic conception. The first passage holds t h a t the soul is t h e

cause ( a h ta) of the body, the second, t h a t the kind of body is not
irrelevant to the association of soul and body. It might be argued
t h a t one should not elevate vocabulary into theory in such cases.
But there is one passage in which instrumentism seems to be more
than a way of speaking. It is in chapter 10 of Book iii, and concerns
the origination of local movement:
But there are three things to be considered: first the moving cause, second-
ly the means by which it produces movement, and thirdly the thing
moved. The moving cause has two senses, one unmoved and one produc-
ing movement and moving; but the practical good is unmoved; while
the moving and the moved are the appetite (for that which is moved moves, in
so far as there is a craving, and the movement is a form of appetence
actualized), but the thing moved is the living creature; the instrument
(ôgyavov) of moving is the craving, and this is bodily; so it must be con-
sidered among the functions which are common to body and soul. But
for the present it is sufficient to summarize by saying that movement
by means of instruments is where the beginning and end coincide as in a
ball-and-socket joint."
This reference to the functions which are common to body and soul (by
the hylemorphic theory, are they not all common, except perhaps vovç ?)
and to the ball-and-socket joint must be a reference to the De Motu
Animalium, a work whose authenticity Nuyens is concerned to defend,
and which he cites as a clear example of instrumentism. 30 Further,
there seem to be cross references in the De Motu Animalium to the
De Anima.31 Nuyens calls attention to the difficulties a t t e n d a n t
on the use of Aristotelian cross references and gives several rules which
he has adopted. One rule is to neglect references which contradict
the results of internal criticism. Another is to use references to con-
firm the results of internal criticism when the references are in accord-
ance with those results. 92 One would think t h a t such blanket rules
28
4 3 3 b l 3 - 2 2 . Italics m i n e . It is a s t o n i s h i n g t h a t , on p. 246 of L'Évolution,
N u y e n s says t h a t the description of the soul as the cause of m o t i o n will n o t h a v e
to occupy us long. H i s v e r y brief account (two pages) makes no reference t o Book i i i ,
and when one c o n s u l t s t h e index of passages from Aristotle, one finds no reference
to any passage from the d i s c u s s i o n of m o v e m e n t in chapters 9-11 of Book i i i .
30
Ibid., pp. 54-6, 160, 243, 260.
31
Following Farquharson's notes in t h e Oxford translation: 6 9 8 a l 0 , 700b5, 7 0 0 b 2 0 .
M
L'Évolution, p. 110.
would lead to very mechanical scholarship to say the least, and t h a t

each case would have to be examined on its merits. In this case the
cross references are too explicit and detailed to be ruled out by a n y such
general device.
The contrast Nuyens wishes to draw lies between the definitions
of the soul given in the first chapter of Book ii of the De Anima and
the conception of the soul as localized in a particular organ, as it
is given in the De Motu Animalium. (703a28-b2) Whether or not
there is a philosophical incompatibility between these two concep-
tions is not our problem. W h a t we are concerned for is the scope
of such general accounts. If it should be the case that the detail of
his psychology showed small variation even though the more general
philosophical interpretation showed changes as significant as Nuyens
believes them to be, we would be authorized to use works of various
"phases" to elucidate a common doctrine. The passages we have
cited suggest t h a t so far as the psychology of movement is concerned,
the difference between the instrumentist and hylemorphic phases
are of small importance.
Moral and Scientific Psychology
This brings us to the last of our preliminary questions: the distinc-

tion, if any, between a "moral" psychology adopted in the works con-
cerning human conduct, that is, the two Ethics, the Politics and the
Rhetoric, and a "scientific" psychology presented in the biological
writings and in the De Anima. It has been argued that while Nuyens
is correct in tracing out a line of development for the scientific psy-
chology, he is mistaken in supposing that the moral psychology is to
be included in it. 33 A variant on the same position goes farther, and would
add that this moral psychology is just popular psychology and t h a t
in the Ethics Aristotle is not concerned for scientific correctness but
M
For a s u c c i n c t s t a t e m e n t of t h i s p o i n t of v i e w s e e D . A . R e e s , "Some A s p e c t s
of A r i s t o t l e ' s D e v e l o p m e n t , " Actes du XI' Congrès International de Philosophie,
XII. R e e s argues t h a t A r i s t o t l e ' s approach is "departmentalized," which leads
t o the retention of earlier doctrines. H e g i v e s other e x a m p l e s , e.g., t h e doctrine
of al8rjQ, t h e eternal and i m p a s s i b l e i n t e l l e c t , nvev/ia, t h e precision of p s y c h o l o g y ,
reverence for the stars, the "ideal" approach t o politics.
o n l y f o r t h e c l a r i f i c a t i o n of p u z z l e s w h i c h a t t e n d popular conceptions.* 4
The alternative then becomes popular psychology versus scientific
p s y c h o l o g y , a n d p l a c i n g t h e e t h i c a l w o r k s in t h e line of e v o l u t i o n of
s c i e n t i f i c p s y c h o l o g y a m o u n t s to a r e s t o r a t i o n of t h e i r c l a i m t o be
3
considered seriously as seeking truth. * I propose to drop these
labels "moral," "scientific," a n d "popular" a n d ask s i m p l y whether
t h e De Anima s h o u l d b e used t o e l u c i d a t e t h e e t h i c a l writings.
The main point at issue between the moral and scientific psycholo-
gies c o n c e r n s t h e a d o p t i o n of a "bipartite" p s y c h o l o g y in t h e e t h i c a l
works. R e e s t a k e s t h i s as i n d e p e n d e n t of t h e t w o l a t e s t p h a s e s of t h e
s c i e n t i f i c p s y c h o l o g y , w h i l e N u y e n s a n d G a u t h i e r s e e m to t a k e it a s
a p p r o p r i a t e t o t h e i n s t r u m e n t i s t p h a s e b u t i n a p p r o p r i a t e to t h e h y l e m o r -
phic p h a s e . 3 4 Since t h e case of akrasia is used t o d e v e l o p t h i s p s y c h o l o g y
34
See Burnet's Introduction, The Ethics. It is not right, however, to imply t h a t
Burnet thought Aristotle was a "dilettante," as Gauthier and Joltf do on 36*,
L'Éthique I. Burnet is quite explicit: "It is sometimes said that the method just
described (dialectic) amounts to taking our first principles on trust; but this crit-
icism leaves out of account the other side of the doctrine, namely, that the àQ%rj is
really apprehended immediately. To this extent we must always remember t h a t
Aristotle is a convinced 'intultionalist' in the true sense of that much-abused word."
See The Ethics, pp. xli-xlii. The assumption is that popular opinion is not likely
to be altogether wrong. Alas, when we come to the case of psychology, Burnet
does not have Aristotle rely on the opinions of the many and the wise, but rather
on those of the Academics. Their theories are taken as sufficient for the purposes
of the politician, yet Aristotle may not believe in those theories at all. See the notes
to 1102a22 ff. on pp. 58-59.
35
See Gauthier and Jolif, L'Éthique I, 35*-36*, for an impassioned presentation
of t h i s argument.
34
Rees, "Some Aspects of Aristotle's Development," pp. 83-4. In discussing
the Nicomachean Ethics, Nuyens is cautious. He merely says that the distinction
of the rational and irrational parts of the soul is already found in Plato and that the
exoteric work to which the distinction is referred is most probably the Protrep-
ticus. (L'Évolution, p. 191) In Chapter V, especially on pp. 213-14, he shows the
importance of the Platonic theory of parts of the soul in the transition from the
instrumentist to the hylemorphic phases ; and on p. 235 he claims that the
division of the soul into parts is "decidedly rejected" at De Anima 411a26-b5.
This rejection makes the problem of the relation of mind to soul so acute for Aris-
totle. Gauthier and Jolif follow him on 34*, L'Éthique I. Gauthier refers the bi-
partite division to Xcnocrates and says that the conception is rejected in the De
Anima. He adds the caution that if Aristotle raised the question of parts in the Nico-
machean Ethics be did not express this solution there. See La Morale, pp. 22-23.
I hope to show that there is good reason for this caution. Dirlmeicr shows the Pla-
of parts and since the parts in turn are used in the analysis of akrasia,
it will be well to follow this issue in some detail.
The psychology of parts is presented in chapter 13 of Book i of the
Nicomachean Ethics. The argument of the chapter is this: Since it
has been concluded that happiness is an activity of soul in conformity
with perfect virtue, it is necessary to examine the nature of virtue.
And since we are concerned for human virtue, we should know some-
thing about the soul, for human virtue is excellence of soul. The poli-
tician should theorize concerning the soul, but only with a degree of
accuracy appropriate to his own (practical) inquiry. H e can adopt
the division of the soul into what is irrational and what has reason.
The further question as to whether this is a division of parts, as in the
case of bodies, or a division of definition (XSyog), as in the case of the
convex and the concave, makes no difference here. The vegetative
power belongs to the irrational and can be omitted because it exhibits
no specifically human excellence. If we consider the cases of the
¿yxQCLTrfs and the axgarri;, in whom there appears to be something that
naturally struggles against reason, we can see another irrational nature
of the soul which yet shares in reason—at least in the case of the
¿•yxgaxrjs. Again, how these are distinct makes no difference here.
So the irrational is double—including the vegetative, which has nothing
in common with reason, and the appetitive, which shares it in the sense
of being persuaded by it. If this latter can be said to have reason,
that which has reason will also be double, one having it in itself and
the other heeding. Virtue is distinguished according to this kind of
division, some virtues being termed intellectual and others moral.
(N.E. 1102a5-1103al0)
It is difficult to decide from this chapter whether we are given a

scientific psychology or not. While it is implied that the politician
need not pursue the subject as far as it could be pursued (which might
reinforce the view that we are not to expect a scientific psychology in
ethics), it is also said that the politician should "theorize" (dewgelv)
(which might reinforce the view that, as far as it goes, the psychology
tonic background to the "Xenocratean" division in two extended notes; 14,3 on

pp. 278-79 and 25,3 on pp. 292-93, Nikomachische Ethik. It should be pointed
out that when Aristotle expresses caution concerning the conception of parts of
the soul he is only echoing the caution of P l a t o at Republic 435D, 436AB, 504B ff.,
and Timaeus 27D f f .
used in ethics should be scientific). As an example of the degree of

accuracy or exactitude beyond the needs of politics, the question of the
modality of psychological distinctions is twice mentioned.*7 Aristotle
seems to be careful in his choice of language not to prejudice this ques-
tion. He only uses the term "part" (jidgiov) with reference to the
soul once, and then he qualifies by adding "or power" (xai dvva/tts).
(N.E. 1102b4-5) He also uses "power" (dwva/xtc) and "nature" ((pvaig);
but for the most part he merely uses the article and an adjective: "the
irrational" (TO dXoyov), "the nutritive" (TO dgemixdv), "the appetitive"
(TO ¿mdvfirjrtxov) or even simply "this" (TOVTO).38 Whether Aristotle
is raising the problem of parts or not, he certainly is aware that there
is such a problem and he does not want to involve the distinctions
which he is making in that problem. There is no suggestion that the
distinctions themselves are not true and sound as far as they go.
Now let us turn to the De Anima. Aristotle repeatedly asks the
questions "Are there parts of the soul?" and "Are the parts separable
spatially or logically?"39 He obviously has the Platonic division in view
as well as his own problem concerning the status of mind. At one point,
he says that in the case of some of the faculties the answer is easy while
in the case of others (the context indicates that it is roue that is referred
to) he is puzzled what to say. (De Anima 415bl5-16) The one
place at which he begins to deal with the very concept of parts of the
soul is lacking in any effort to carry the critique through. He simply
says that in a sense there is an infinity of parts. But he does not seem
to regard this as a reductio ad absurdum of the concept itself. It seems
rather to be a reminder that care must be exercised in applying it.
He contents himself with arguing that the nutritive, sensitive, and
imaginative parts pose difficulties for those who posit separated (xexco-
giofitva) parts. The only lead as to how he himself envisages the gen-
37
See also N.E. 1178a23, where it is closer inquiry (diaxQifSwoat) into the happi-
ness of the intellect that is beyond the scope of present purpose.
38
I do not mean to i m p l y that the use of an adjective w i t h the article indicates
a special caution on the part of A r i s t o t l e in this passage. T h i s usage is common
w i t h him—compare TO TI rjv elvai.
39
"Are there parts of the soul?" De Anima 4 0 2 b l , 411a26, 413a4, 4 1 3 b l 3 , 4 3 2 a l 9 .
"Are the parts separable spatially or logically?" Implied at 411b5, asked at 4 1 3 b l 3 ,
427a2, 4 2 9 a l 0 , 4 3 2 a l 9 .
eral problem is t h e r e m a r k t h a t t h e a p p e t i t i v e p a r t differs b o t h logi-

c a l l y (Âéyoç) a n d in p o w e r ( d v v a / i i ç ) f r o m t h e rest. 4 0
More light is shed b y c e r t a i n p a s s a g e s in B o o k ii, especially chap-
t e r s 2 a n d 3. T h e p r o b l e m s e e m s t o e m e r g e n a t u r a l l y from t h e g e n e r a l
definition of t h e soul a s t h e first a c t u a l i t y of a living body, w h i c h i m -
plies t h a t s o m e p o w e r s of t h e soul a r e o n l y a c t u a l i t i e s of t h e p a r t s of
t h e body which a r e t h e i r o r g a n s . 4 1 T h i s m i g h t suggest, a s it s u g g e s t e d
t o P l a t o , t h a t t h e v a r i o u s p a r t s of t h e soul a r e divisible a t l e a s t in t h e
sense of being localized in t h e i r v a r i o u s o r g a n s . A r i s t o t l e does n o t ,
a s far as I c a n see, follow up t h i s p r o b l e m of t h e organs directly.41
I n s t e a d he raises t h e p r o b l e m of t h e u n i t y of t h e soul a n d offers e x a m -
ples of nonspecialized tissues. H e a r g u e s t h a t if t h e soul w e r e divided
i n t o p a r t s t h e r e w o u l d be n o t h i n g t o hold t h e p a r t s t o g e t h e r . They
could n o t be held t o g e t h e r b y t h e b o d y , since it is t h e t a s k of t h e soul
t o hold t h e b o d y t o g e t h e r . 4 8 A n d he t w i c e c i t e s the c a s e of c e r t a i n p l a n t s
40 De Anima, 432a22-432b7. In view of the argument given below, to translate

Xiym xal ôwdfiei as "both logically and potentially" (Hett) or "both in definiton
and in power" (Smith) is misleading, (or it suggests that it is not ôvva/itç which
amounts to Aàyoç here.
4 1 The general definition of soul is developed at De Anima 412a3-412b9. The
upshot is that soul and body are one in the most fundamental sense—the sense
in which actuality and its (potential) subject are one. This definition is anticipated
at 403a22-403bl9, where the affections of the soul are Xàyot IvvXoi; and it is further
elaborated at 412b9-413al0, where the relation of organ to specialized sense is gener-
alized for the relation of the body as a whole to sense as a whole. It is developed
once again, this time in explicit relevance to the question of the division of the
soul, at 414a4-28.
4 2 He says at 411M4-19 that there is a problem about the power of each part of
the soul in the body, since if the soul as a whole combines with the whole body it
would follow that each of the parts of the soul should combine with some part of
the body. This, however, is ruled out by the case of vovç, which can hardly be
conceived as combining with any part of the body. To which one could reply, "But
what of the other parts?" Behind the problem of vovç lies the problem or the as-
sumption of the unity of the soul. See Nuyens, L'Évolution, chapters IV and V,
for the suggestion that in the De Partibus Animalium Aristotle held the vegetative
and appetitive souls together to constitute the substantial form of man, a position
which he abandoned in the De Anima. On either position this problem of the organs
remains.
43 De Anima 411b5-19. This argument is interesting in that it may suggest
the concern which led Aristptle to his final definition of the soul. Nuyens quotes
a passage from the De Motu Animalium (703a29-b2) which shows this same con-
and insects whose segmented p a r t s continue to live for a while, and

thus manifest (at least in t h e case of the insects) sensation, local move-
ment and appetite. From this he concludes t h a t these divided parts
of the soul must be "homogeneous" with each other and with t h e whole
soul—that is, each part must be sensory, motive, and appetitive. 4 4
Aristotle's own problem concerning parts of the soul, then, is twofold:
in what way are these parts distinct, and in w h a t way is mind distinct
from all of t h e m ?
About these other parts of the soul Aristotle's answer is direct and
explicit:
But it is quite clear from what we have said t h a t the other parts of
the soul are notseparable(â>gt<rra), as some say; though it is obvious they
are logically different (Aoyoc, SreQa); for there is a difference between
the faculties of sensation and thought, just as sensing is different from
thinking. And the same is true of all the other faculties we have men-
tioned."
Though the answer is direct a n d explicit, it may not be clear without
considerable f u r t h e r inquiry. To be irega in Myoz can be translated
as "distinct to t h o u g h t , " "distinct in definition," "logically distinct,"
and so forth, all of which would suggest to a modern t h a t w h a t was
meant was t h a t items so distinguished were not somehow really dis-
tinct. If sensation were always accompanied by thought, and if t h o u g h t
never occurred without sensation, one might wish to say t h a t they
were not really distinct b u t were only the same thing or process con-
sidered from two different point of view. B u t if sensation should occur
cern, and solves t h e problem b y d r a w i n g an analogy between a well-governed c i t y

and the l i v i n g creature. Once an order is established each member performs h i s
f u n c t i o n w i t h o u t a special ruler for each f u n c t i o n . In the l i v i n g creature each or-
gan performs its f u n c t i o n because of i t s nature. The soul can be in s o m e ag^r? of
the body and the other parts (of the b o d y ) l i v e and perform their f u n c t i o n s b y their
natural union w i t h i t . N u y e n s concentrates on the bit about the soul b e i n g local-
ized and does not develop the concern for u n i t y . See L'£volution, p. 160.
44
De Anima 4 1 1 M 9 - 2 8 , 4 1 3 b l 6 - 2 4 . T h i s argument f i t s the blunt declaration
at 407a2 that it is a m i s t a k e t o say t h a t the soul is a spatial magnitude, but converts
t h i s into s o m e t h i n g like an empirical s t a t e m e n t .
45
De Anima 413b27-32. H e t t translation m o d i f i e d : "logically" for "theoretical-
ly" and "sensing" for "feeling." N o t i c e that A r i s t o t l e brings thought in t o illustrate
logical otherness t h o u g h he is not dealing w i t h t h o u g h t in h i s argument. Could
this be because t h o u g h t has no organ t o confuse the i s s u e ?
without thought, one might want to argue t h a t it must be distinct

from thought in some way other than mere point of view or thought
or definition. Aristotle's problem, of course, is just this. He points out
several times in the De Anima that the parts of the soul exhibit an
order of dependence of existence. The vegetative soul can exist alone,
as in the case of plants. Some animals add the sensory and the appetitive.
Other animals add the power to move about, and man adds the power
of thought. 4 * The question now shifts. From being "In what way are
the parts of the soul distinct?" it becomes "In what way are the parts
of the soul logically distinct?"
Aristotle seems to envisage the problem this way, too, for sandwiched
between two presentations of the order of the parts is an argument
drawing the consequences of that order for the type of definition (X6yoc)
appropriate to the soul. The argument is t h a t there is no soul apart
from specific types, such as the vegetative. Even so, a highly general
definition of soul can be given which will fit all the specific cases without
expressing the specific nature of any. (Is this the definition developed
a t the beginning of Book ii?) But it would be absurd to inquire after
such a general definition which is the particular definition of nothing
t h a t exists, neglecting the infimae species. (De Anima 414M9-29) 47
The point to the argument is that a sound Xoyog must express what
exists in each specific kind. In a way, this argument obviates much
of the force of the original dichotomy between the spatial and the
logical. To modernize the discussion: we must not suppose that in
disproving the spatial separability of parts of the soul we have, in turn,
44
De Anima 414a29-414bl9, 414b33-415al3. Cf. a l s o 411b27, 434a22.
47
H e t t c o n s t r u e s t h e argument t h i s w a y . Smith gives a different reading t o
ovSe, reading "Hence it is absurd in t h i s and similar cases to d e m a n d an a b s o l u t e l y
general d e f i n i t i o n w h i c h will fail t o express the peculiar nature of a n y t h i n g t h a t i j ,
or a g a i n , o m i t t i n g this, to look for separate d e f i n i t i o n s , c o r r e s p o n d i n g t o each in-
fima species." T h i s reading c o n t r a d i c t s the s t a t e m e n t , at 4 1 4 b 3 2 , t h a t w e m u s t ask
i n the case of each t y p e w h a t is i t s soul, and t h e c o n c l u s i o n , at 4 1 5 a l 2 , that "It is
e v i d e n t t h a t the w a y t o g i v e the m o s t adequate d e f i n i t i o n of soul is t o seek in t h e
case of each of i t s forms for the m o s t appropriate d e f i n i t i o n " ( S m i t h t r a n s l a t i o n ) . A
j u s t i f i c a t i o n of t h e S m i t h reading m i g h t be t h a t one s h o u l d n e i t h e r seek the e m p t y
generality nor the specific d e f i n i t i o n alone, s i n c e the s p e c i f i c k i n d s t h e m s e l v e s i n
t h i s case are related in the serial order—which m i g h t be g i v e n in n e i t h e r k i n d of
d e f i n i t i o n . B u t t h i s is a q u a l i f i c a t i o n t o t h e e m p h a s i s o n t h e s p e c i f i c a n d w h a t e x i s t s ,
n o t a s u g g e s t i o n t h a t b o t h t y p e s of d e f i n i t i o n be s o u g h t .
proved t h a t these p a r t s are n o t really distinct. F o r a sound Xdyos

is not an e m p t y generality (a parallel b u t not exactly similar point
would be t h a t a sound Xoyog is not merely a "verbal definition"). A
sound Xoyog is expressive of t h e particular features of w h a t exists.
The Xoyog might even be by-passed, for it seems to add merely f o r m u -
lation and perhaps logical organization t o what is not in itself "logi-
cal." To ask whether t h e p a r t s of the soul differ spatially or logically
a m o u n t s thus to asking w h e t h e r t h e y differ spatially or in some other
way not specified, some way t h a t is peculiar and a p p r o p r i a t e to t h e
soul. In a Xdyog w h a t is peculiar and appropriate—i.e., definitory—is
singled out and expressed—but it is not constituted.
W h a t does exist, w h a t is definitory in the case of the soul and its
p a r t s ? W e have mentioned t h e equivalence of Adyog and M v a ^ t ? in
two passages, and this equivalent^ is f u r t h e r elaborated in a n o t h e r
passage which brings t h e entire problem to a focus:
It is necessary for the student of these forms of soul first to find a def-
inition of each, expressive of what it is, and then to investigate its deriv-
ative properties, etc. B u t if we are to express what each is, viz. what
the thinking power is, or the perceptive, or the nutritive, we must go
farther back and first give an account of thinking or perceiving, for in
the order of investigation (xara TOV Xdyov) the question of what an
agent does (at ¿vigyeiai xai ai ngd$eig) precedes the question, w h a t
enables it to do what it does (dvva/iig). If this is correct, we must on
the same ground go yet another step farther back and have some clear
view of the objects of each; t h u s we must start with these objects, e.g.
with food, with what is perceptible, or with what is intelligible. 4 *
T h e parts of the soul are distinct as activities are distinct, a n d a first

step in determining t h e distinctness of activities is to determine t h e
distinctness of the proper objects of those activities. So f a r as p a r t s
of the soul are concerned, w h a t Aristotle is opposed to is t h e doctrine
t h a t they are spatially separate, a position t h a t perhaps is due to stress-
ing the organ r a t h e r t h a n the function. W h e n Aristotle says t h a t t h e
p a r t s of the soul are distinct in Xoyog he does not mean t h a t they are
n o t distinct a t all, nor does he mean t h a t t h e y are distinct only in
some relation to h u m a n t h o u g h t considered as drawing lines where
none exist. The p a r t s of t h e soul are themselves t h e powers of t h e
48
De Anima 415al4-22. Smith translation. It seems less controversial th2n
the Hett translation.
living creature to execute certain functions, and hence the parts are
as distinct as the functions. This is as much of an over-all resolution
to the problem as can be given, since the various functions differ from
one another in specific ways. 4 '
Now let us return to the psychology of the Nichomachean Ethics.
Is there anything in the passage we summarized t h a t would indicate
t h a t Aristotle believed in spatially separate parts of the soul? There is
one passage which suggests the opposite:
Exactly the same thing may take place in the soul as occurs with the
body in a case of paralysis: when the patient wills to move his limbs
to the right they swerve to the left; and similarly in unrestrained persons
their impulses run counter to their principle. But whereas in the body
we see the erratic member, in the case of the soul we do not see it; never-
theless it cannot be doubted that in the soul also there is an element
beside that of principle, which opposes and runs counter to principle
(though in what sense the two are distinct does not concern us here).
(N.E. 1102bl8-25)
Is there any indication t h a t Aristotle is not proceeding as he says i>ne
ought to proceed in the De Animal In the passage touching upon the
vegetative soul we find the same beginning with the activities—nutri-
tion and growth. The treatment of appetite is in line with the argument
of the De Anima, for it refers to TO d'eni6vfj.rjrixov xal SXwg
¿(¡exxixov: "the desiring and the appetitive as a whole"—certainly
not the breaking up of the appetitive part which is denounced in the
De Anima. It is possible t h a t the curious doubling of the function
of "paying heed" to reason may be explainable by the program of the
De Anima. For appetite which "pays heed" has as its objects the
things in the world which we desire, while reason which "pays heed"
may have as its objects the appetites.
It is true t h a t this passage recalls the Republic in its demonstration
of a function of "heeding" from the fact of akrasia. And it is true
t h a t other important arguments and doctrines found in the Aristotelian
4
® See A n d o , Aristotle's Theory, pp. 85-97, for a d i s c u s s i o n of A r i s t o t l e ' s c o n c e p t i o n
of the parts of t h e soul w h i c h is i n agreement w i t h the m a i n c o n c l u s i o n s proposed
above. A n d o d i s t i n g u i s h e s three different t y p e s of d i v i s i o n : a m e t a p h y s i c a l d i v i s i o n
of a c t i v e and p a s s i v e reason ; a biological d i v i s i o n i n t o t h e n u t r i t i v e , s e n s i t i v e , and
intellectual c o m p l e x e s of f u n c t i o n s ; and a logical d i v i s i o n i n t o an i n d e f i n i t e mul-
t i t u d e of s p e c i f i c f u n c t i o n s .
ethical writings recall the Republic and other Platonic dialogues. One
of the most striking examples is the demonstration t h a t the human
good is the activity of the soul in accordance with virtue. This demon-
stration has as its middle term the concept of the human function (ëçyov),
a concept which is outlined in Book i of the Republic. (N.E. 1097b22-
1098al8, Republic 352E-354A) B u t t h a t the Nicomachean Ethics recalls
t h e Republic does not imply t h a t it does not also look forward to the
De Anima (assuming t h a t the one was written before the other), and
indeed, looks forward to it in just this fundamental conception. For
the êgyov of man is said twice in the same sentence to be the êvéçyeia
of the soul. 50 Nuyens would have this phrase y.wxfjç ¿végyeia to be
peculiarly instrumentist in character, to be contrasted with acofiaroç
¿végyeia, presumably. 6 1 In the context, however, while a contrast
is implied between the soul and the body, it is mediated by the concepts
of the function of man as distinct from other animals and from plants,
and the function of man over and above all the functions of these parts.
(N.E. 1097b28-1098a5) This contrast would seem to indicate the same
concern for the unity of man and the same relation of t h a t unity to
the unity of the soul which bulks so large in the De Anima.
We will adopt the hypothesis, then, t h a t in what concerns the analysis

of akrasia there is no fundamental difference between the moral psy-
chology and the scientific psychology, and t h a t so far as the conception
of "parts of the soul" is concerned, we may turn from the Nicomachean
Ethics to the De Anima without fear of shifting basic assumptions.
F u r t h e r , so far as the psychology of movement is concerned, we will
adopt the hypothesis t h a t the De Motu Animalium, the Nicomachean
Ethics and the De Anima present essentially the same doctrine, with the
various special emphases appropriate to each work. We will assume
t h a t t h e Eudemian Ethics is earlier than the Nicomachean Ethics, and
while we have noticed t h a t the concern for akrasia is greater in the
60
N.E. 1098a7-18. Bonitz indicates that èçyov is not used in the De Anima
in the full sense of "what a thing naturally does," but in the more restricted pense
of "work" or "action." Three of the four references which he gives couple êgyov
w i t Ttâdrj: 4 0 3 a l 0 , 4 0 3 b l 2 , ^ 0 9 b l 5 . At 4 0 2 b l 0 - 1 6 (which he does not give), the
larger sense seems intended.
51
L'Évolution, p. 190. H e would elucidate by referring to N.E. 1102al6-17:
human v i r t u e is not of the body but of the soul.
Eudemian Ethics, we. have not found compelling reasons to assign Book
vii to one or the other. However, the arguments which Jaeger puts
forward concerning the nature of (pQovrjoig indicate that we should be
attentive to variations in this concept. Finally, we will adopt the
hypothesis that there is no fundamental contradiction between the
analysis of akrasia in chapter 3 of Book vii and the acknowledgment of
moral struggle which is found in other references to akrasia and
¿yxgdiTeia. And even if there are contradictions, we will not assume
that chapter 3 is not by Aristotle. With these preliminaries in hand,
we can now proceed to the analysis of akrasia.
CHAPTER IV
ARISTOTLE'S ANALYSIS OF AKRASIA
The Subject Matter of Akrasia
Akrasia is the direct subject of chapters 1-10 of Book vii of the Nico-
machean Ethics (1145al5-1152a36). When one turns to those chapters,
mindful of the Socratic and Platonic wrestlings with the subject, or
even of the t r e a t m e n t found in the Eudemian Ethics, one finds some-
thing of a surprise. One would expect an extended exploration of
the paradoxical situation of acting against knowledge. But although
Aristotle does deal with this problem, he seems much more concerned
to establish the precise subject matter of akrasia and by that means
to distinguish between simple akrasia and the various metaphorical
varieties. Although he gives the Socratic problem pride of place,
it is only one of six such problems which he mentions and undertakes
to resolve. The six problems are:
1. How can a man who judges rightly act unrestrainedly? 1
2. Is the morally strong man (o iyxQaxrjt;) temperate (odxpgaiv),
and vice versa?
3. Can there be a bad type of moral strength and a good type of
moral weakness, depending upon the truth or falsity of the opinions
involved?
4. Can folly combined with moral weakness yield virtue?
5. Is the man who pursues pleasures deliberately better than the
man who pursues them from moral weakness, on the ground t h a t
the former can be cured by changing his convictions and the latter
cannot be cured in this w a y ?
6. What is it to be "simply" (ankd>g) morally weak, seeing t h a t
no one is morally weak with regard to every subject matter? 4
1
The Greek for t h i s question is, nd>g vnoXaftPdvu/v OQ$U>c dxgaTeverai rig.
"Acting unrestrainedly" here is not acting counter to right judgment. Much of
what Aristotle says in these chapters seems appropriate to the loose, rather than
the technical, sense of akrasia.
2
These dnogiat are given in chapter 2, 1145b21-U46b6.
86 A R I S T O T L E ' S ANALYSIS O F AKRASIA
Aristotle seldom proceeds by disposing of such a list of p r o b l e m s

in t u r n , and may not even deal with all the problems t h a t he m e n t i o n s
in his opening remarks. In this case, all the problems are dealt with
more or less explicitly, b u t the sixth looms largest. The Socratic
problem occupies chapter 3, the problem as to s u b j e c t m a t t e r occu-
pies chapters 4, 5, and 6, the various dispositions with regard t o t h e
s u b j e c t m a t t e r occupy the bulk of chapter 7, a n d the curability of
moral weakness a n d deliberate vice occupies c h a p t e r 8. C h a p t e r 9
deals with the nature of the opinions involved in these dispositions
a n d t h u s the relation between moral strength a n d temperance, a n d
chapter 10 returns to the varieties of akrasia a n d the question of c u r a -
bility. This leaves the fourth problem a b o u t folly, akrasia, a n d v i r t u e
as implicitly dealt with in chapter 9. And as is often the case with
Aristotle, questions are taken up in the course of the discussion which
are not included in the original list of problems. Here, c h a p t e r 6 is
largely occupied by a discussion as to whether akrasia in the case
of anger (6v/uos) is less disgraceful t h a n simple akrasia; a n d c h a p t e r
10 goes on to the question as to whether a m a n can have practical
wisdom (tpgovrjoig) and be morally weak. 3
It is no longer open to us to say, with any real certainty, w h y Aris-
totle selected j u s t these problems a n d not others. T h e y can all b e
shown to have some kind of origin in the Platonic writings. T h e f i r s t
is obviously derived from the Protagoras and the second, from t h e Laws.
Perhaps the third and f o u r t h have something t o do with the question
as to whether the appetitive part can ever be superior to t h e r a t i o n a l
p a r t . The fifth is obviously related to the general question of m o r a l
reformation which is a prominent question in t h e Laws, a n d t h e s i x t h
reflects Plato's constant concern for the appetitive p a r t as well as
3
It i s n o t e w o r t h y t h a t t h e dnogiai concerning eyxgaTeia and akrasia, which
are m e n t i o n e d in B o o k ii of t h e Eudemian Ethics, ( 1 2 2 4 b 3 6 - 1 2 2 5 a l ) f i n d no p l a c e
in t h i s l i s t . These concern the relation of b o t h d i s p o s i t i o n s to c o m p u l s i o n and t o
the voluntary. If Book v i i is t a k e n w i t h t h e Eudemian Ethics, t h e r e s o l u t i o n of
t h e s e problems in B o o k ii of t h a t work w o u l d e x p l a i n t h e i r a b s e n c e . If it i s t a k e n
w i t h the Nicomachean Ethics, t h e s e problems are n o t g i v e n a n y e x t e n d e d t r e a t m e n t
at all in t h a t work. Book v i i of t h e Eudemian Ethics contains a passage (1246M2-36)
w h i c h bears s o m e relation t o t h e second, t h i r d , and f o u r t h aizoQiai l i s t e d a b o v e .
T h i s is a n o t h e r e x a m p l e of the p r o m i n e n c e of akrasia i n t h e Eudemian Ethics.
A R I S T O T L E ' S ANALYSIS OF AKRASIA 87
his later suspicions of the spirited part. But close derivations seem
for the most part inappropriate; and the form in which Aristotle pre-
sents these problems is presumably due to discussions in the Academy,
and perhaps to writings by certain sophists, that are now lost. So
far as the extended treatment of the subject matter and the dispositions
is concerned, possibly we can understand this by reference to the
practical purpose of the Ethics. This treatment can be related to a
similar treatment in the cases of courage, justice, practical wisdom,
and friendship. Although Aristotle explains that his aim is to refute
objections to common opinions, the text shows that he was going
beyond this limited objective. Much of his ethical writings consists
of a careful exposition of the variations of human nature with respect
to decision and habituation. We can understand that it would be
of greater interest to those who make laws and man the courts to
know something of the difference between inability to restrain anger
and inability to forego bodily pleasures, than it would be to understand
how it is theoretically possible tor knowledge to be overcome. In
any event, this occurs. Considering the practical purpose of the work,
what is surprising is that philosophical problems of this latter type
should receive as much attention as they do.
To determine the subject matter of akrasia, Aristotle divides the
sources of pleasure into two classes. The first he associates with the
body and calls "necessary" (avayxaia). Examples are food and sexual
relations. The second class includes victory, honor, and wealth as
examples. These are called "choiceworthy in themselves" ( a i g e r a
xaB'avxa).4 The necessity ascribed to the class of bodily pleasures
must be due to the fact that they are necessary to the very maintenance
4
N.E. 1147b23-29. The d i s t i n c t i o n is elaborated more fully at 1148a22-23, where
the second t y p e is said to relate to "things that are noble and good in kind" (rai
yevet xaAcbv xai anovdaitav) and to be "choiceworthy by nature" (tpvoei aigera).
Cook Wilson remarks t h a t axgaaia dvfiov will not fit t h i s division, since 6vft6g
is not in a class w i t h wealth, honor, or victory. See Structure, p. 65. One m i g h t
reply that Ov/iog is just the desire for honor, which is masked by translating it as
"anger" instead of "assertiveness" or "ambition" or even "spirit." J o a c h i m treats
Bvfiot; as equivalent to a desire for victory. See Commentary, p. 230. But at N.E.
1 1 4 8 b l 3 , it is said that akrasia and ¿yxgareia are applied to flu/idi by qualification,
just as they are applied to honor and gain. T h i s would suggest tliat Aristotle has
anger rather than ambition in mind.
of life. There is a parallel division of pleasures a t t h e discussion of

t h e virtue of temperance, where t h e bodily pleasures are reduced
t o t h e pleasures of t o u c h . There, however, t h e other class is n o t des-
cribed as w h a t is choiceworthy in itself, b u t as t h e pleasures of t h e
soul, such as love of honor a n d love of learning. ( N . E . I l l 7 b 2 3 - l 119a20)
There is a n o t h e r kind of division of a p p e t i t e s r a t h e r t h a n of sources
of pleasure, which is o f t e n considered to be f u n d a m e n t a l f o r Aris-
t o t l e ' s ethical t h o u g h t . This is the division of a p p e t i t e into wish
(¡}OVXTJOU;), passion (6v/XOT;), a n d desire (enidvfiia).1 On t h e basis
of a passage a t N.E. 1149a25-32, it is sometimes held t h a t the principle
of this division is the degree to which a p p e t i t e is responsive t o reason.
Gauthier, for instance, argues t h a t emBvfiia is t h e condition of a p p e -
t i t e in which it is closed to reason. Ovfiot; is the condition in which
a p p e t i t e partially heeds reason. BOVXT]AU; is the condition in which
it fully heeds reason. W h e n fiovXrjoig is provided by reason with
the means for its realization we h a v e Tigoaigeaig, or deliberate choice.*
T h e passage mentioned says merely t h a t dvjiog heeds reason hastily
a n d inaccurately, n o t t h a t a n y a p p e t i t e t h a t heeds reason hastily
a n d inaccurately is Qv/xog. Aside from the f a c t t h a t dvfiog is occasion-
ally mentioned in divisions of appetite, t h e m a j o r division is between
/lovArjoig, on the one h a n d , and ¿nidvfiia, on t h e other; a n d this
a c c o u n t of their relations seems a c c u r a t e enough.
If we compare the two kinds of division, we can see t h a t t h e y are
superficially similar, for they depend on a broad distinction between
5
T h i s d i v i s i o n is briefly m e n t i o n e d at De Anima 414b2, and at E.E. 1223a26-27.
• Gauthier, La Morale, pp. 2 3 - 2 4 , p. 29. It is c u r i o u s t h a t so l i t t l e a t t e n t i o n is
paid t o the Rhetoric for t h e elaboration of t h i s d i v i s i o n . A p p e t i t e is d i v i d e d there
i n t o the rational and irrational, in the sense of the d e l i b e r a t e d and the u n d e l i b e r a t e d
(<5la Xoyiaxixrjv and Si' aXdyiaxov). This rational appetite is wish (jjovXijoi;).
T h e irrational a p p e t i t e s include anger ( o g y r j ) a n d desire (¿TiiBvfiia). D e s i r e s , in
turn, arc d i v i d e d into the irrational ( a X o y o i ) , w h i c h c o m e i n t o e x i s t e n c e through
t h e b o d y , and t h e rational, in t h e sense of d e p e n d i n g on s o m e a r g u m e n t (a! fteTa
Xoyov). See A r i s t o t l e , The "Art" oj Rhetoric, 1366bl4-15, 1369al-7, 1369bl4-16,
1370al8-27. T h e d i s t i n c t i o n b e t w e e n the d e l i b e r a t e d desires and t h e argument
or b e l i e f - d e p e n d e n t desires is d i f f i c u l t , and m u s t refer to t h e d i f f e r e n c e b e t w e e n
m o r a l l y e v a l u a t e d desires and t h o s e w h i c h d e p e n d o n non-moral b e l i e f s or argu-
ments. A n d o offers the s o m e w h a t s p e c u l a t i v e s u g g e s t i o n t h a t the d i v i s i o n of appe-
t i t e i n t o /Sot'iXt]aii, Qvfioc, and imBv/iia is b a s e d on the object's u t i l i t y for life, b u t
he also a d o p t s the d i v i s i o n according to r a t i o n a l i t y . See Aristotle's Theory, pp.
140-46.
ARISTOTLE'S ANALYSIS OF AKRASIA 89
the irrational and the rational. But closer comparison reveals some-
thing of a problem. The first kind of division we might call a division
of subject matter: food versus learning, for instance. The second
kind of division is rather a division of rational status: impulsive versus
considered. The problem is whether Aristotle means to rule out con-
sidered appetites for such subject matters as food, whether we might
have cases in which we should want to term an appetite both fiovXr]<n<;
and ¿mOv/xia. Furthermore, to return to the first division, if learn-
ing and honor are choiceworthy in themselves and food and sex are
merely instrumental to the maintenance of life, does this imply t h a t
food and sex are never choiceworthy in themselves? What, then,
would we make of the virtue of temperance, which is specifically
concerned with these bodily pleasures? Should it be considered as
some kind of instrumental virtue, much in the way t h a t Plato consid-
ered temperance in the Laws ? There is no suggestion of this in Aris-
totle's ethical writings, where temperance is considered to be praise-
worthy as a full-fledged moral virtue. We will have something to
say regarding this second question shortly, but the first will return
in other forms to complicate our inquiry considerably. 7
In following Aristotle's discussion of the Socratic problem, we
shall have to keep both divisions of pleasures in mind. The division
by subject matters is the "official" division for the discussion, but
it is the relation of desire to reason which is crucial in his remarks
about the morally weak act.
7
Ando recognizes t h i s problem and solves it by saying t h a t desire is "acknow-
ledged by wish and converted t o i t " or is "assimilated to i t . " See ibid., p. 144.
Gauthier argues t h a t t h e heeding of reason changes t h e quality of t h e a p p e t i t e . H e
gives as an example t h e love of a t e m p e r a t e man for his wife as compared w i t h t h a t
of t h e intemperate m a n for h i s neighbor's wife. The temperate man can well have
more desire for pleasure t h a n t h e intemperate in t h i s case. See La Morale, pp.
68-69. W h a t t h i s example p o i n t s up is the multiplicity of criteria adopted by Aris-
totle for the determination of right desire. Rather t h a n expressions such as "as-
similation to wish" or "change of q u a l i t y " it would be better to analyze these criteria
and set out some clear notion of w h a t is meant by the "subject m a t t e r " of a moral
disposition as well as of an appetite.
The Moral Dispositions
Before reviewing what Aristotle has to say about temperance and

related moral dispositions, there is a complication in his general ac-
count which should be briefly noted. Usually, the criterion which
is involved in temperance, akrasia, and so forth is Ao'yo?. Temperance
is acting as the Aóyos directs, akrasia is acting against Ao'yo?. But
when Aristotle comes to relate akrasia to the other relevant moral
dispositions, he appeals rather to the criterion of normality:
But in relation to the pleasures and pains of touch and taste, and the
corresponding desires and acts of avoidance, which have already been
defined as the sphere in which Profligacy and Temperance are displayed, it
is possible on the one hand to have such a disposition as to succumb even
to those temptations to which most men are superior, or on the other
hand to conquer even those to which most succumb. These two dispositions
when manifested in relation to pleasure, constitute Unrestraint and Re-
straint respectively; when in relation to pain, Softness and Endurance.
The disposition of the great majority of men lies between the two, though
they incline rather to the worse extremes."
This doubling-up of criteria must have as its assumption the fact

that most men do not depart too widely from the Xóyog. Aristotle
uses the criterion of normality to restrict the range of akrasia in a
way that is interesting for the reader of Euripides. It is not a case
of akrasia when a passion beyond normal human capability assails
someone:
It is not surprising that a man should be overcome by violent and exces-
sive pleasures or pains: indeed it is excusable if he succumbs after a strug-
gle,... But we are surprised when a man is overcome by pleasures and
pains which most men are able to withstand, except when his failuie to
resist is due to some innate tendency, or to disease. ( N . E . 1150b6-14)
Aristotle might well refuse the case of Phaedra, since she is stung
by a superhuman desire. This is not to say he would refuse the case
t h a t she states, however, since she refers to quite ordinary pleasures.
Aristotle's ángaros is no heroic victim, but simply a weak man. He
cannot plead that his desire is more than can be borne, for most men
bear these desires quite well. The loose sense of the term akrasia
8
N.E. 1150a9-16. This normality criterion also appears in the final remarks
on akrasia and éyxgáreia, at 1152a25-27.
conditons the technical sense, then. Akrasia is not merely acting

against one's knowledge. It is the more restricted case in which the
desire involved is one most men find manageable.
There are six moral dispositions having as their subject m a t t e r
the commonplace bodily pleasures and pains. These are temperance
(aaxpgoavvrj), incorrigibility (axokaoia), moral strength (iyxgdreia),
moral weakness (axgaaia), endurance (xagTeg(a), and softness (jiaXa-
xia). Since Aristotle does not confine himself to the mechanical
application of criteria, something should be said of each.
Temperance. Two accounts can be given of temperance. First,
it is the mean condition with respect to bodily pleasures and pains.
Second, it is the disposition of the appetitive part of the soul to obey
reason. The latter is the more comprehensive account. It would
seem to imply t h a t the desires themselves will be moderate, in obedience
to a rule, rather than t h a t the temperate man will be moderate in t h e
exercise of his desires, in obedience to a rule. Further, the temperate
man will not only have moderate desires, he will not have even these
a t the wrong time, or if they conflict with health, or are contrary
to what is noble, or are beyond his means. 9 These are, no doubt, only
some of the possible cases a rule might specify. In a more general
statement a b o u t moral virtue, Aristotle lists the right degree, t h e
right time, the right occasion, the right recipients, the right purpose,
and the right manner as what is involved in the "mean and in the
best." (N.E. 1106b 16-24)
In thinking of all these moral dispositions, we should remember
their connection with choice and intention. Virtue is a ngoai-
gerixrj, a disposition of choice. In the Eudemian Ethics, it is said
very straightforwardly t h a t it is not by what he does t h a t we judge
a m a n ' s character, but by what he does it for. Because it is n o t easy
t o see a man's purpose we are forced to judge his character from his
actions. 10 Incorrigibility is defined in Book vii of the Nicomachean
9
The first account is given at S'.E. 1107b4-6. The second is developed at 1 1 1 9 a l l -
20 and 1 1 1 9 b l l - 1 8 .
10
E.E. 1228a2-4, 15-17. This passage is quite similar to N.E. 1144al3-20, where
the distinction is made between those who do what the law enjoins but do it unwil-
lingly, or in ignorance, or for some ulterior object, and those who act from choice and
for the sake of the acts themselves. B o t h passages are no doubt relevant t o the d i s -
tinction between action xar a Xoyov and pet a ).oyov, which we will mention below.
Ethics as the pursuit of excessive pleasures for their own sakes and
not for the sake of some ulterior consequence. ( N . E . 1150al6-21) This
suggests that the question of temperance only arises when bodily
pleasures are considerd in isolation from other objects of choice, rather
than in abstraction from them. But Aristotle would no doubt say
t h a t even if one drinks a t a banquet to please the host, one ought
to be moderate; and we have seen that temperance is not only con-
cerned with the intensity and the frequency of bodily pleasures, but
also with their subordination to other goods. The important feature
of temperance is t h a t the appetitive part is in harmony (avfiqxoveiv)
with the rule given by reason. (N.E. 1119bl5)
Incorrigibility. This is sometimes called "profligacy," "self-indul-
gence," "wickedness," or simply "vice" by the translators. Again there
are two accounts and again this generates problems of a sort. In-
corrigibility is excess in relation to bodily pleasures. (N.E. 1118b27-28)
But Aristotle insists t h a t the incorrigible man is not merely excessive
in his desires. Indeed, his desires themselves may not be excessive.
What is distinctive about the incorrigible man is t h a t he pursues
excessive pleasures deliberately. This is part of the general doctrine
t h a t vice is voluntary. (N.E. 1113b3-U14b25) Indeed, Aristotle goes
so far as to say t h a t the incorrigible man "yields to his appetites
from choice, considering that he ought always to pursue the pleasure
t h a t offers." (N.E. 1146b22-23) Since reason is a principle of moral
action, this implies t h a t the incorrigible man is morally incurable.
Of course, he has no occasion for remorse if he does not believe t h a t
what he does is wrong. (N.E. 1150a21-22, 1150b29-32) Placing emphasis
on the element of choice can even lead to a portrait of the incorrigible
man as a kind of Cyrenaic moral philosopher. His principle is "pursue
the present pleasure" and he conscientiously does this, even though
his desires are not excessive. (N.E. 1150a25-30) In what sense the
incorrigible man should be said to have principles will have to be
explored later.
Moral strength. There are certain obscurities to be found in con-
nection with this and the remaining dispositions, which are heralded
by Aristotle's description of them as neither identical with virtue
and vice nor yet different from them in kind. (N.E. 1145a35-1145b2)
The definition of moral strength is clear enough: the morally strong
man has the right rule or reason but the wrong desires, and he conquers
A R I S T O T L E ' S ANALYSIS O F AKRASIA 93
(xgareiv) his desires. ( N . E . 1150a32-36) Moral strength is like temper-

ance, in that in neither case is there action contrary to the rule, and
so people have come to speak of the moral strength of the temperate
man. But Aristotle says this is really an analogy, for the two cases
differ in their pleasures and desires. (N.E. 1151b32-1152a6) However,
it is also said that just as the liberal man needs wealth, the temperate
man needs opportunity. (N.E. 1178a25-33) And there is a passage
concerning the gods which points out that they do not have the prere-
quisites for moral virtue: they do not make contracts, do not have
terrors, do not have coinage. Thus they do not have the opportunity
to display justice, courage, or liberality. So far as temperance is
concerned, it would be derogatory to praise them for not having bad
desires.11 Apparently the gods lack the opportunity to display temper-
ance, and we might ask just what this opportunity is, seeing that the
desires of the temperate man are such that he is immune to tempta-
tion. Perhaps it would not be too fanciful to suggest that this oppor-
tunity is just the possession of a body, perhaps a body composed of
earth, air, fire, and water.
There is a discrepancy between the Eudemian Elhics and the dis-
puted books that must be related to this obscurity concerning the
opportunity for temperance. In the Eudemian Ethics, a question
is raised as to whether virtue makes the end which is chosen right
or whether virtue makes the reason right. The answer is that it is
moral strength that makes the reason right, by saving reason from
being corrupted. Those who think that virtue preserves reason confuse
moral strength and virtue, since both are praiseworthy. (E.E. 1227bl2-
19) In the disputed books this precision is not found. It is virtue,
specifically temperance, which is said to preserve prudence in one
passage and the "principle" (agxv) ' n another, both of which would
be equivalent to the koyog of the Eudemian passage. (N.E. 1140bl 1-20,
1151al4-17) Temperance is said to preserve prudence because pleasure
and pain destroy beliefs concerning action. In the one case, Aristotle
must be thinking of an active preservation from an actual danger,
11
N.E. I178b7-18. The argument m a y look back to the Protreplicus, where
the life of the Isles of t h e Blessed affords no opportunities for courage, justice, tem-
perance, and e v e n prudence. See Aristotle, Select Fragments, trans. W . D . R o s s ,
fragment 12 of the Protrepticus, p. 46. T h i s in turn m a y be a transformation of
the life of the "other cycle" m e n t i o n e d at 271-73 of the Statesman.
and in the other, the kind of preservation that prevents the actual
danger from arising. The two positions reflect something of the dif-
ference between the Republic and the Laws.
The chief obscurity concerning Aristotle's conception of moral
strength is directly parallel to that involved in his conception of moral
weakness. This is the question as to how these dispositions are to be
analyzed. Is moral strength to be analyzed as some kind of power
of the intellect to dominate the appetites, and if so, what kind of
power is this ? u Is it an epistemological power to retain correct beliefs,
or is it a motivational power? If it is a motivational power, how is
it related to appetite? Does the fact that the morally strong man
has bad desires rule out the possibility that he has the right wish?
If not, is moral strength to be explained as the superiority of wish
to desire ? Aristotle is careful to distinguish moral strength from obstina-
cy, the morally strong man being concerned for truth and yielding
to argument, the obstinate man being concerned for the pleasure of
victory and yielding not to argument, but to pleasure. ( N . E . 1151b4-17)
This would indicate t h a t part of moral strength must consist in the
ability to relate opinion to evidence, rather than to pleasure. All these
questions can be raised about moral weakness as well, and various
answers will be explored in connection with moral weakness.
This raises a last question about these moral dispositions which
can be mentioned here in relation to moral strength. It is said t h a t the
morally strong man cannot have the virtue of practical wisdom or
prudence, for t h a t requires not only correctness of reason, b u t also
agreement with right desires. (N.E. 1139a29-31) But must he once
have had practical wisdom, in order that he now should have correctness
of reason? Alexander of Aphrodisias apparently thought t h a t the
direction of alteration would be the reverse of this—that one could
only become virtuous from dispositions which lie between virtue and
vice.1® If we identify moral strength and moral weakness as these
1J
See A n d o , Aristotle's Theory, p. 3 0 3 , lor an effort t o d e f e n d t h i s c o n c e p t i o n
of t h e p r a c t i c a l p o w e r of t h e i n t e l l e c t . On p. 3 0 7 , he says t h a t t h e m o r a l l y s t r o n g
m a n is obliged t o suppress h i s a p p e t i t e s through h i s intellect and t h a t t h e intel-
l e c t of t h e m o r a l l y s t r o n g m a n is n o t practical enough as c o m p a r e d w i t h t h a t of t h e
temperate man. T h e s e remarks do n o t so m u c h resolve t h e p r o b l e m as m a r k it o u t .
13
Anogia xai Xvaeig, iv, 3. C i t e d b y S t e w a r t Notes II, p. 15, f o o t n o t e 1. Ando
s e e s m o r a l w e a k n e s s , moral s t r e n g t h , and v i r t u e as an a s c e n d i n g scale of par-
intervening states we could see moral strength as a step on t h e w a y t o

t e m p e r a n c e and, perhaps, moral weakness as a step on t h e w a y t o
incorrigibility. Gauthier, on the other hand, describes moral s t r e n g t h
as the upper limit of moral development for those who are too poorly
b o r n to achieve t h e true h a r m o n y of virtue. 1 4 This would imply t h a t
when Aristotle mentions the curability of moral weakness, he has in
m i n d the conversion of moral weakness into moral strength, a n d n o t
into temperance itself. Aristotle himself tells us little in a n s w e r t o
these questions, only t h a t it is b y acting virtuously t h a t we become
virtuous, and t h a t remorse is essential to moral r e h a b i l i t a t i o n . "
Moral weakness. We have already circumscribed this disposition suf-
ficiently, b u t there is one detail which remains to be mentioned. T h i s
is t h e division of moral weakness into two types, impetuousness nço-
jiéteia) and weakness proper (âadéveta). The impetuous do n o t
s t o p t o deliberate, whereas the weak do, b u t do not abide by t h e i r
deliberations. ( N . E . 1150bl9-28) This division raises the question
as to whether the Socratic problem concerns only the case of àadé-
veia or whether Aristotle's analysis of t h a t problem m u s t be i n t e r p r e t e d
in such a way as to cover ngonéreia as well.
Endurance. T h e subject m a t t e r of endurance is bodily pain r a t h e r
t h a n bodily pleasure, although there is a question as to whether u n s a t i s -
fied desire for pleasure is to count as such a pain, which would minimize
the difference between endurance and moral strength. 1 ' In the c o n t e x t
t i c i p a t i o n in prudence, w h i c h scale can be ascended b y effort. See Aristotle's Theory,

p. 3 0 7 .
14
La Morale, pp. 7 3 - 7 4 . Gauthier stresses the s t a b i l i t y of virtue, w h i c h w o u l d
preclude the decay of t e m p e r a n c e into moral strength. H e also stresses A r i s t o t l e ' s
a r i s t o c r a t i c bias. See pp. 48-51, 1 3 2 .
16
The passage at N.E. 1103al4-1105al6, tells how men become virtuous. For
remorse and c u r a b i l i t y see 1150a21-22, 1150b29-35, 1152a27-33. T h e last p a s s a g e
s a y s t h a t moral w e a k n e s s in e x c i t a b l e persons is more curable t h a n m o r a l w e a k n e s s
in t h o s e w h o deliberate, and t h a t it is m o r e curable in habitual cases t h a n in t h o s e
w h o are morally weak b y nature. U n l e s s we are to take the remarks in B o o k ii
a b o u t the d e v e l o p m e n t of v i r t u e or the remark at 1147b6-9 a b o u t the p h y s i o l o g i c a l
recovery of k n o w l e d g e after an e p i s o d e of moral w e a k n e s s as p r o v i d i n g clues,
A r i s t o t l e s a y s n o t h i n g in the ethical w r i t i n g s a b o u t h o w moral w e a k n e s s is t o b e
cured. See J e a n n e Croissant, "Aristote et les m y s t è r e s , " Bibliothèque de la faculté
de philosophie et lettres de l'université de Liège, LI (1932), especially 40 ff. and 110,
for a discussion of a "cathartic" therapy for m e l a n c h o l i c akrasia.
14
On pp. 3 1 - 3 3 , Structure, Cook W i l s o n reviews t h i s question at length and p o i n t s
96 A R I S T O T L E ' S ANALYSIS OF AKRASIA
of this division of the mora) dispositions it seems clear that the pain
of desire is to be excluded. The chief difficulty with Aristotle's con-
ception oi endurance lies in an incidental remark he makes about it,
saying that "Endurance means only successful resistance (avre'êtv),
whereas Restraint (¿yxgareia) implies mastery (xgaTelv), which is a
different matter: victory is more glorious than the mere avoidance of
defeat." ( N . E . 1150a33-36) Aristotle concludes that moral strength
is more valuable than endurance, a conclusion which is disputed by
some commentators on the ground that the distinction between resist-
ance and mastery is illusory.17 One should not be too hasty in dismissing
Aristotle's observations on the psychology of pleasure and pain. The
distinction between mastery and resistance may point to interesting dif-
ferences between pleasure and pain. It may be that one can "win a
victory" over a desire by convincing oneself of its wrongness, whereas
it is rare that bodily pains submit to such measures. It would be a
mistake to value the one disposition more highly than the other on
these grounds, however, because of the difference of their subject mat-
ters.
Softness. There is little difficulty here. Softness is the disposition to
be overcome by bodily pains which most men can withstand. Aris-
totle's humorous examples do not seem to involve a violated Xoyog.
(N.E. 1150b 1-5)
The bulk of Book vii is occupied with distinguishing between these
six dispositions and with clarifying the difference between absolute and
o u t t h a t a t E.E. 1 2 2 9 M - 1 0 , e n d u r a n c e a n d s o f t n e s s are m e n t i o n e d i n c o n n e c t i o n
w i t h courage a n d n o t t e m p e r a n c e . Cook W i l s o n searches v e r y hard for d i s c r e p a n -
c i e s b e t w e e n B o o k v i i and o t h e r A r i s t o t e l i a n t e x t s . In t h i s case, e n d u r a n c e and
s o f t n e s s are m e n t i o n e d i n c o n n e c t i o n w i t h courage and c o w a r d i c e in order t o d i s -
tinguish them. Courage a n d c o w a r d i c e are restricted t o p a i n s w h o s e n a t u r e it i s
to destroy life. H e a l s o c i t e s N.E. 1116al2-14, at which suicide to avoid ignoble
p a i n s i s d e s c r i b e d as c o w a r d i c e . It i s a d d e d t h a t "it is w e a k n e s s ( / j a A a x i a ) t o f l y
from troubles." N o d o u b t fiaXaxia c a n e x h i b i t t h e s a m e difference b e t w e e n a b s o -
l u t e a n d m e t a p h o r i c a l u s e s t h a t A r i s t o t l e s o carefully p o i n t s out for a k r a s i a . A r i s -
t o t l e ' s c o n c e r n i n t h e Eudemian p a s s a g e r e s e m b l e s t h a t of the later P l a t o t o r e c t i f y
i n f l a t e d c o n c e p t i o n s of c o u r a g e .
17
Grant, The Ethics of Aristotle II, 221. Stewart, Notes II, 192. Stewart
n o t i c e s t h a t i t w o u l d b e w r o n g t o m a k e t h e d i s i n c t i o n on t h e ground t h a t m a s t e r y
issues in action while endurance does not. Both act well. B u r n e t , The Ethics, pp.
3 1 9 - 2 0 , s e e m s t o m i s s t h e p o i n t of t h e o b j e c t i o n , t a k i n g it t o rest in a f a i l u r e t o d i s -
t i n g u i s h o r d i n a r y p a i n s f r o m t h e p a i n s of u n s a t i s f i e d desire.
metaphorical moral weakness. It is u n j u s t to say t h a t Aristotle is hard-

ly interested a t all in akrasia, as Gauthier does. Nor is it just to say
t h a t it is the dialectical possibilities of the subject t h a t chiefly attract
him. 18 As we have already remarked, he seems to be concerned to
clarify the differences between the various moral dispositions, not only
those related to temperance, but those related to courage, justice, and
wisdom as well. It might be more accurate to describe his interest as
phenomenological rather than dialectical.
The Socratic Problem
The Socratic problem is, "How can a man who judges rightly act
unrestrainedly ?" In other words, how can Xoyog fail to determine action?
Aristotle takes Socrates to have denied t h a t akrasia can occur, on the
ground that knowledge (¿nlorrjfirj) is not dragged a b o u t like a slave.
Cook Wilson argued t h a t the Socratic principle t h a t "men must act
for what is their truest good if they only know it," appears to have
been strongly opposed by Aristotle. 19 If this were true, the Socratic
problem would be no problem a t all. Since what Socrates said is re-
marked by Aristotle to be against the "plain facts" ( r a tpaivopiva),
it would seem t h a t what Aristotle should do is simply deny Socrates'
contention and pass on. (N.E. 1145b27-28) He does not do this, which
18
See Gauthier, La Morale, p. 92, for A r i s t o t l e ' s lack of i n t e r e s t . See Stewart
Notes II, p. 115, for the "remarkable p r o m i n e n c e " of t h e subject in t h e Aristotelian
s y s t e m as due to dialectical possibilities.
18
Structure, p. 50. H e refers to X e n o p h o n , Memorabilia i i i . 9 . 4 . A s all the c o m m e n -
tators point out, t h e reference t o t h e I m p o s s i b i l i t y of knowledge dragged about
like a slave i n d i c a t e s that Aristotle had Protagoras 352B in m i n d . Cook Wilson's
p o s i t i o n is echoed in a curious article b y W . H . Fairbrother, "Aristotle's Theory
of Incontinence," Mind, N.S. V I (1897), 359-70. Fairbrother has Aristotle set
himself t o destroy t h e "Socratic heresy" of the i n v o l u n t a r i n e s s of vice, which i s
perhaps sound enough; but Fairbrother takes t h i s t o i m p l y t h a t Aristotle m u s t
h a v e rejected out of hand any "Sophistic" e x p l a n a t i o n of akrasia as due t o "falla-
cious reasoning, incomplete apprehension of the f a c t s , etc." T h i s involves Fair-
brother in an interpretation of chapter 3 of Book v i i which has A r i s t o t l e reject rather
t h a n propose the relevance of m o s t of t h e d i s t i n c t i o n s drawn there. Fairbrother's
position is criticized b y D . G. R i t c h i e in "Aristotle's E x p l a n a t i o n of 'Axgaaia,"
Mind, N.S. V I (1897), 536-41. Some of the details of the controversy will be
discussed below.
98 ARISTOTLE'S ANALYSIS OF AKRASIA
should lead us to investigate more closely his alleged opposition to the

Socratic principle. He mentions various versions of it in several
places In three places he corrects Socrates' contention t h a t courage is
knowledge—but these are minor corrections. He denies t h a t courage is
the knowledge of w h a t is and w h a t is not formidable. So-called military
courage is r a t h e r knowledge of how to e n c o u n t e r w h a t is formidable.
B u t military courage is not the moral virtue. 4 0
When Aristotle mentions the more general Socratic principle t h a t
virtue is knowledge, he does n o t seem to be in f u n d a m e n t a l opposition
t o it. He seems r a t h e r to be concerned to give it proper qualifications
and a more precise formulation. In the Eudemian Ethics, he distin-
guishes between theoretical science, whose end is contemplation, a n d
productive science, which has a different end—in t h e case of t h e vir-
tues, the end of being brave or just. In these cases, w h a t is wanted is
not so much the knowledge of w h a t the v i r t u e is as the knowledge of
the sources of virtue. In a n o t h e r place, he a d d s t h a t the Socratic saying
t h a t nothing is stronger t h a n wisdom ((pgovrjaig) is correct, only wisdom
is not theoretical knowledge (¿niarijfirj), b u t a n o t h e r kind of know-
ledge. 11 In Book vi of the Nicomachean Ethics, he says t h a t Socrates
was right in holding t h a t virtue cannot exist w i t h o u t practical wisdom
((pgSvrjoig) b u t wrong in thinking t h a t the virtues are forms of practical
wisdom. The virtues are n o t identical with reason (X6yo$), t h e y are
rather in cooperation with reason (/¿era Xoyov). ( N . E . 1144bl8-21,
28-30)
These passages indicate t h a t w h a t Aristotle says in Book vii is not
out 01 line with w h a t he says elsewhere. In Book vii he says t h a t it would
be strange if knowledge were dragged a b o u t like a slave, t h a t practical
wisdom is the strongest of conditions, t h a t t r u e knowledge (imaxrifir])
is not dragged a b o u t by passion and is not involved in akrasia, and t h u s
t h a t despite the appearances, Socrates' conclusion is correct. (N.E.
1145b23-24, 1146a5, 1147bl5-17) An a d e q u a t e u n d e r s t a n d i n g of w h a t
is implied by these contentions must depend on an interpretation of
Aristotle's conception of practical wisdom; b u t even without this, they
20
E.E. 1229al4 ff., 1230a6 ff. N.E. 1116b4 ff. Again the reference must be to
the Protagoras, especially to 349-51.
21
E.E. 1216b2-20, 1246b23-36. The passage at Laches 199D approximates Aris-
totle's position here. It is noteworthy that the first of the Eudemian passages cited
here mentions productive rather than strictly practical knowledge.
show that for Aristotle, as for Socrates, akrasia must pose a problem.
Aristotle's attitude toward Socrates on the subject of virtue is some-
what like his attitude toward various thinkers on the subject of soul.
J u s t as they ignored the bodily preconditions to the possession of
soul, so Socrates ignored the appetitive preconditions to the possession
of full virtue. B u t though Aristotle is aware ot these preconditions in
both cases, he does not equate soul with body nor full virtue with non-
rational factors. In gross terms, practical reason and appetite have a
natural connection for Aristotle. The plain facts of akrasia suggest
t h a t knowledge and appetite do not have such a natural connection.
Aristotle incurs the responsibility to offer an interpretation of akrasia
which will admit the facts without contradicting the over-all concep-
tion of the role of reason in action. He does this by analyzing the
so-called knowledge of the morally weak man.
As a preliminary, he rejects the relevance of the distinction between
opinion and knowledge. He does this on two grounds. The first is
t h a t akrasia is blameworthy, but surrendering an opinion of which one
is not sure, is not. It should be noticed t h a t this can be construed
as implying a distinction between akrasia and the kind of irresolution
which consists of not being able to make up one's mind about the right
course 01 action. The second ground is that opinion can be as firm in
conviction as knowledge. ( N . E . 1145b32-1146a4, 1146b24-31) It should
also be noticed t h a t this seems to imply a rejection of the modern
view t h a t akrasia is to be analyzed as less than fully sincère assent
to moral principle.
He then offers two different types of analysis, which he eventually
combines into one final account. The first is based on the distinction
between having and exercising knowledge, the second, on the distinction
between the universal a n d the particular premises in practical reason-
ing. The second analysis is described as studying the subject <pvoixwg,
and while his use of this term is no doubt of some significance, the
combination of the two analyses implies t h a t the distinction between
studying the subject <pvoixù>g and studying it in the other way cannot be
fundamental. 2 2 It should be acknowledged that this organization of
22
N.E. 1147a24-25. T h i s combination should rule out the contention of Robinson
t h a t the tpvoixóg account, being more appropriate to physical science, has no real
role in resolving what Aristotle takes to be a logical puzzle. See R. Robinson,
"L'acrasie," p. 271. Burnet and Fairbrother present the opposite view, that the ipvaixói
chapter 3 of Book vii overrides a succession of occurrences of the term

Iti, which is normally used by Aristotle to indicate a new question or
argument. The justification for this organization lies in the com-
bination ot the analyses and in the over-all coherence which it introdu-
ces into the chapter.
Aristotle begins with the distinction between having knowledge
and exercising or using (xgrjodai) the knowledge that is had. He
equates using knowledge with "contemplating" (Oewgelv) what one
knows, and says that there would be nothing surprising about acting
against knowledge that was not being contemplated, but that acting
against knowledge that was being contemplated would be surprising.
(N.E. 1146b31-35) The term QemqeIv here must be taken in connection
with the term xgrjodat, for there is a passage in the De Anima which
argues that it is possible merely to contemplate (detogelv) something
a c c o u n t is t h e " r e a l " o n e . S e e The Ethics, p p . 299-301; " A r i s t o t l e ' s T h e o r y of I n -

continence," pp. 364-66. Burnet says t h a t t h e other a c c o u n t is o n l y t o s h o w t h e
A c a d e m y h o w t o e x p l a i n akrasia on i t s o w n p r i n c i p l e s . F a i r b r o t h e r says t h a t t h e
various distinctions between having and e x e r c i z i n g k n o w l e d g e y i e l d cases which
d o n o t a m o u n t t o akrasia t h o u g h t h e y are r e a d i l y confused w i t h i t . T h i s i n t e r p r e -
tation r e q u i r e s t a k i n g t h e t e r m JICO; t o q u a l i f y akrasia, g i v i n g " i n c o n t i n e n c c in a
sense." R i t c h i e p o i n t s o u t t h a t nto<; q u a l i f i e s entarrifirjv, at N.E. 1 1 4 7 a l 3 ,
a n d vno Xdyov xai do^rjt;, a t 1 1 4 7 b l . See " A r i s t o t l e ' s E x p l a n a t i o n of 'Angaria,"
p . 536.
E x a c t l y w h a t is m e a n t b y s t u d y i n g t h e s u b j e c t <pvatxa><;, I d o n o t p r e t e n d t o know.
S t e w a r t , a t 37, Notes I, says of the d i s t i n c t i o n Aoyixoi-qpvotxos t h a t i t is t h e
distinction b e t w e e n l o o k i n g a t a s u b j e c t in t h e l i g h t of g e n e r a l f o r m a l c o n c e p t i o n s
a n d l o o k i n g a t i t in the l i g h t of m o r e p r o x i m a t e p r i n c i p l e s . J . H . R a n d a l l , J r . has
a r g u e d t h a t the d i s t i n c t i o n is b e t w e e n an a n a l y s i s of the l a n g u a g e b y w h i c h a s u b j e c t
is t a l k e d a b o u t and an a n a l y s i s of the f u n c t i o n s i n v o l v e d in t h e s u b j e c t as a natural
p r o c e s s , and f u r t h e r m o r e , t h a t t h e r e is an o r d e r of p r o g r e s s i o n f r o m the f o r m e r t o
t h e l a t t e r as i n q u i r y leads f r o m discourse t o t h e w i d e r c o n t e x t of n a t u r e . See h i s
Aristotle, p p . 59-61. T h i s is a s u g g e s t i v e p o s i t i o n and is s u p p o r t e d in t h i s case b y
the fact t h a t t h e d o c t r i n e of t h e p r a c t i c a l s y l l o g i s m , w h i c h is used in the qivaixdg
a c c o u n t , is u t i l i z e d in t h e De Motu Animalium in e x p l a i n i n g m o v e m e n t . T h e p o s i -
t i o n s of S t e w a r t and R a n d a l l h a v e th£ a d v a n t a g e of n o t r e q u i r i n g t h a t t h e t w o
t y p e s of analysis be m u t u a l l y e x c l u s i v e . I t r e q u i r e s some e f f o r t t o f o l l o w A r i s t o t l e
in l a b e l i n g as yvaixot; an a n a l y s i s of a k i n d of r e a s o n i n g , and n o t as yvotxog, an
a n a l y s i s of the d i f f e r e n t w a y s of k n o w i n g . If <pvaixog w e r e t r a n s l a t e d as " p s y c h o l o g -
ical" we might expect t h e labels t o be r e v e r s e d . But he regards the difference
between w a y s of k n o w i n g as r e l e v a n t t o the w a y s w e use t h e w o r d "knowledge"
(<5tâ>i Xtyofisv to ¿utOTaadai). See N.E. 1146b31.
appropriate to motion, without there being the practical operation of

enjoining flight or pursuit, in which case there is no movement. (De
Anima 432b26-433al) There is also a kind of judgment or understanding
of practical subject matter which is not itself directly practical. This
is called avveois, and is carefully distinguished from both scientific
knowledge and practical wisdom by Aristotle. ( N . E . 1142b34-1143al8)
To contemplate, or to be aware of what one knows, is to be aware in
such a way t h a t one's knowledge is used, t h a t is, to be practically
aware, so far as the analysis in Book vii is concerned. Aristotle might
have analyzed akrasia as the shift in quality of one's knowledge from
practical to contemplative, but he does not. We must suppose, then,
that when knowledge is mentioned in his analysis, practical knowl-
edge is m e a n t — t h a t is, knowledge t h a t in its use functions in the
movement of creatures.
Aristotle then goes on to an interesting qualification of the notion
of having knowledge. He says t h a t there is a way in which one may
have knowledge which is also a kind of not having knowledge. He
offers as examples being asleep, mad, drunk, being an actor, or a be-
ginner in the learning of a science. 23 In all these cases he is thinking
of someone who says things t h a t he does not really understand, and
it is something of a puzzle why he says that these are examples of
having and not having, rather than of using and not using. He must
be indicating the difference between the sense of having knowledge
in which a disposition is attributed which may not be currently actual-
ized, and the sense of having knowledge in which it is contrasted
with ignorance rather than with actualization. Although this distinction
between lack of actualization and lack of understanding is very in-
teresting, what is more important for the analysis of akrasia is the
assertion that this latter condition is brought about by the passions:
But persons under the influence of passions are in the same condition:
for it is evident that anger, sexual desire, and certain other passions, ac-
tually alter the state of the body, and in some cases even cause madness.
It is clear therefore that we must pronounce the unrestrained to "have
23
N.E. 1147al0-24. T h i s i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of "having and n o t h a v i n g " f o l l o w s
Stewart's t r e a t m e n t of t h e t e x t a g a i n s t t h a t of Cook W i l s o n . T h e latter h o l d s t h a t
the examples of t h e drunkard and t h e m a d m a n are m e a n t t o i l l u s t r a t e implicit
k n o w l e d g e in general. See Structure, p. 20. Stewart t a k e s t h e m as i l l u s t r a t i n g a
kind of h a v i n g of k n o w l e d g e . See Notes II, 153-54.
knowledge" only in the same way as men who are asleep or mad or
drunk.14
This phase of Aristotle's analysis resembles Plato's doctrine about the
theft of opinion by appetite. It also resembles Plato's doctrine that
the condition of the body, in one sense, is responsible for various moral
failings.* 6
This analysis is followed by a second line of analysis, which involves
the doctrine of the practical syllogism. Aristotle gives a brief exposi-
tion of this doctrine in chapter 3, and there is little need to go beyond
what he-says there.** He says that there are two types of premises
employed in reasoning that issues in action: universal premises and
premises concerned for particulars. He adds a minor complication by
pointing out that such premises can include qualifications of the sub-
ject and of the predicate, so that the one who uses them might have
to be aware of the nature of the object or action and of his own nature
as well. When the two premises are combined it is necessary that one
act straightway, that is to say, while the conclusion to theoretical
reasoning is an affirmation, it is an action in practical reasoning.* 7
u
N.E. 1147al4-18. R o b i n s o n wishes t o d i s m i s s t h e p r o b l e m of a k r a s i a b y rang-
ing it a m o n g t h e v a s t class of c o n t r a d i c t i o n s , h e s i t a t i o n s , v a c i l l a t i o n s , incoherences
a n d a b s u r d i t i e s of all s o r t s , which c o m p o s e a g r e a t p a r t of p r a c t i c a l life. See " L ' a -
c r a s i e , " p. 277. So far as it goes, t h i s is no d o u b t a s o u n d if s o m e w h a t u n e n l i g h t e n -
i n g s t e p . W h a t m a k e s a k r a s i a of greater i n t e r e s t t h a n " s l i p s " or m o m e n t a r y forget-
f u l n e s s is i t s s y s t e m a t i c r e l a t i o n t o desire a n d p a s s i o n . A r i s t o t l e does n o t o m i t t h i s
important feature.
26
See A n d o , Aristotle's Theory, p p . 161-62 f o r a n e f f o r t t o m a k e t h i s d i m e n s i o n
of a k r a s i a m o r e precise b y r e l a t i n g it t o t h e c o n d i t i o n of t h e h e a r t . We will discuss
t h i s general q u e s t i o n below.
28
See G r a n t , The Ethics of Aristotle I, 263-70 a n d S t e w a r t , Notes II, 18-22 for
a d e q u a t e s u r v e y s of w h a t is said a b o u t t h e p r a c t i c a l syllogism in t h e De Motu Ani-
malium a n d t h e De Anima. On p. 267, G r a n t seems t o m i s i n t e r p r e t N.E. 1146b35-
1147a7. The passage speaks of u s i n g t h e u n i v e r s a l p r o m i s e b u t not t h e p a r t i c u l a r .
G r a n t supposes this to imply t h a t the universal remains implicit.
27
N.E. 1146b35-1147al0, 1147a24-31. T h e l a t t e r t e x t c o n t a i n s t h e reference
t o a c t i o n as t h e conclusion. It does n o t c o n t a i n an e x p l i c i t reference t o t h e o r e t i c a l
r e a s o n i n g , r e f e r r i n g merely t o t h e "one case" a s d i s t i n g u i s h e d f r o m t h e o t h e r . N o r
d o e s it c o n t a i n a reference t o p r a c t i c a l r e a s o n i n g as s u c h . T h e t e x t is EV DE r a i c
7iot]Tixaiq: " p r o d u c t i v e " r a t h e r t h a n " p r a c t i c a l . " T h e r e is a c o n j e c t u r a l e m e n -
d a t i o n of norjTixaig which would s u b s t i t u t e ngaxrixalg, b u t S t e w a r t collects
TtoirjTtxaii f r o m parallel passages in t h e De Motu Animalium and t h e A l d i n e Scho-
Two points should be made about this doctrine of the practical syllo-
gism before going on to Aristotle's utilization of it in the analysis of
akrasia. The first is t h a t Aristotle persistently refers to the premises
in such a syllogism as being "used" or "activated" (¿vegyeiv), and
this would seem to imply t h a t he regards such a syllogism as an ac-
tual entity of some sort, and not merely as a scheme of analysis for the
elucidation of the structure of intention.® Whether this, in turn, im-
plies that Aristotle is committed to the dubious doctrine that people
formulate the appropriate sentences and say them to themselves as
they act is a question t h a t goes beyond our texts. The other point
is t h a t Aristotle says t h a t given the two premises, straightway one
must act. He does not say t h a t the conclusion is a prescription, between
which prescription and the action itself there is yet another step. Nor,
although this is less clear, does he say that the conclusion is the gener-
ation of a form of appetite. The reason that this is less clear is that,
as we shall see, appetite is necessary for movement, in Aristotle's psy-
chology, and in the De Anima there are passages which imply that in
the case of akrasia there is an activation of both major types of appe-
tite. (433b5, 434a 13-14)
The final analysis of akrasia combines the two main lines of analysis
in a simple way. A man may be said to act against his knowledge if
he exercises his knowledge of the universal premise but does not exer-
cise or even possess knowledge of the particular premise. (N.E.
1146b35-1147al0) B u t if the analysis is left at that, we have only a
blunder, and not akrasia, t h a t is analyzed. The failure to exercise
the knowledge of the particular premise must be related to appetite.
The particular premise is derived from sense perception, and this kind
of knowledge can be affected by appetite. The morally weak man,
then, either does not have the particular premise, or only has it in
liast. See Notes I I , 157-58. We shall mention the difference between practice and
production below. Ando shows that Aristotle is not piecise in his use of the terms,
and frequently interchanges t h e m . See Aristotle's Theory, pp. 177-79.
28
See Grant, The Ethics of Aristotle I, 268-69, and Anscombe, Intention, pp. 78-79,
for the suggestion that the practical syllogism may be such an analytical schematism.
Anscombe says that it is not of much interest to settle the question whether Aristotle
thought that a premise m u s t be contemplated in order to be used. The use of the
term dewgelv in connection w i t h the term X6'n a ^ at would seem to settle that ques-
tion.
104 A R I S T O T L E ' S ANALYSIS O F A K R A S I A
the way t h a t the drunkard repeats Empedocles. Appetite can cause

a man to lose his understanding of a particular premise, and this is
the explanation for akrasia. What appetite cannot do is affect the
understanding of the universal premise, and since the ¿moTijfiri which
Socrates denied could be dragged about like a slave is such universal
knowledge, Socrates was right. (N.E. 1147b9-17)
As far as it goes, this is coherent enough. Aristotle sees the morally
weak man as retaining his understanding and even his use, in some
sense, of the moral principle against which he acts. But the desires
which he undergoes cloud his understanding of his particular situa-
tion. Aristotle has in mind the fact t h a t the morally weak man is
consistent in his principles, t h a t is, t h a t he does not totally reverse
his field while being overcome by his desire. He does not profess uni-
versal premises contradictory to those he professed before his desires
emerged. One might also relate this inability ol desire to affect uni-
versal knowledge to the separability ot mind which forms such a
difficult doctrine in the De Anima; but this would raise problems
beyond our present purpose."
However, this analysis of akrasia does not go quite far enough, and
in presenting it we have omitted ten very important lines of the text.
Those lines are relevant to two questions, each of which opens up
difficulties with this apparently simple and straightforward analysis.
The first is fairly obvious: what is this particular premise the under-
standing of which is lost because of appetite? The second is not quite
so obvious: what kind of action does the morally weak man perform,
or, indeed, does he perform an action at all? This second question
underlies a criticism of both Plato and Aristotle made by J. L.Austin, in
a witty footnote to a well-known article. He argues that it is impor-
t a n t to distinguish the case of succumbing to temptation from the
case of losing control of oneself, and claims t h a t Plato and Aristotle
fail to make this distinction.
Plato, I suppose, and after him Aristotle, fastened this confusion upon
us, as bad in its day and way as the later, grotesque confusion of moral
29
S t e w a r t , Notes II, 2 0 , c o m p a r e s t h e u n i v e r s a l p r e m i s e t o t h e u n m o v e d b a l l
i n t h e b a l l - a n d - s o c k e t j o i n t A r i s t o t l e i n v o k e s t o e x p l a i n m o v e m e n t , and s a y s t h a t t h e
u n i v e r s a l is u n m o v e d b e c a u s e it is t h e f i n a l c a u s e . B u t , as we shall se«, t h e par-
t i c u l a r p r e m i s e g i v e s t h e f i n a l c a u s e for a m o v e m e n t , in a n o t h e r sense of f i n a l c a u s e .
weakness with weakness of will. I am very partial to ice cream, and a

bombe is served divided into segments corresponding one to one with
the persons at High Table: I am tempted to help myself to two segments
and do so, thus succumbing to temptation and even conceivably (but
why necessarily?) going against my principles. But do I lose control of
myself? Do I raven, do I snatch the morsels from the dish and wolf them
down, impervious to the consternation of my colleagues? Not a bit of
it. We often succumb to temptation with calm and even with finesse. 30
If we are to interpret "losing control of o n e s e l f as m o v e m e n t w i t h o u t

a n y rational element a t all, the analysis we have outlined would a p p e a r
to be subject to A u s t i n ' s criticism, for if akrasia is explained as ig-
norance, w h a t is left b u t for the m o v e m e n t t h a t does occur to be some
kind of irrational and spasmodic grasping? 3 1
In t h e lines which we have o m i t t e d an answer of sorts is implied to
the kind of question which Austin raises. Those lines are:
When therefore there is present in the mind on the one hand a universal
judgment forbidding you to taste and on the other hand a universal judg-
ment saying "All sweet things are pleasant," and a minor premise " Yonder
thing is sweet," and this minor premise is actually operant, and when
desire is present at the same time, then, though the former univeisal
judgment says "Avoid t h a t thing," the desire leads you to it (since desire
can put the various parts of the body in motion). Thus it comes about
t h a t when men fail in self-restraint, they act in a sense under the influence
of a principle or opinion, but an opinion not in itself but only accidentally
opposed to the right principle (for it is the desire, and not the opinion,
t h a t is really opposed). Hence the lower animals cannot be called un-
restrained, if only for the reason t h a t they have no power of forming uni-
versal concepts, but only mental images and memories of particular things.
(N.E. 1147a31-1147b5)
T h e morally weak m a n does perform an action, then, and t h a t action is

n o t w i t h o u t some f o r m ot rational significance. B u t j u s t w h a t kind of
30
"A P l e a for E x c u s c s , " Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society, N.S. L V I I (1956-
1957), 2 4 .
31
A r i s t o t l e does c o m p a r e akrasia t o e p i l e p s y , b u t h e h a s in m i n d t h e t e m p o r a r y
i g n o r a n c e of t h e m o r a l l y w e a k m a n as c o m p a r e d w i t h t h e p e r m a n e n t i g n o r a n c e s
of t h e incorrigible m a n . S e e N.E. 1150b32-35. F a i r b r o t h e r t h i n k s t h a t t h e "single
q u e s t i o n " of A r i s t o t l e ' s "natural s t r a i g h t f o r w a r d a n a l y s i s " i s "what m o v e s the
l i m b s ? " H e e n v i s a g e s a "sudden s t r e t c h i n g out of t h e h a n d , t h a t h a s t y r a i s i n g t o
t h e m o u t h , t h a t p a s s i o n a t e s u c t i o n of t h e l i p s , w h i c h t o g e t h e r m a k e u p t h e i m m o r a l
act called 'tas.ting t h e f o r b i d d e n t h i n g . ' " See "Aristotle's T h e o r y of I n c o n t i n e n c e , "
pp. 3 6 4 . H i g h Table m a n n e r s , if n o t m o r a l s , s e e m t o h a v e i m p r o v e d in s i x t y y e a r s .
action will depend on the interpretation of the so-called principle

involved, and that interpretation in turn will depend on the interpre-
tation of the "accidental opposition" between t h a t principle and the
one which forbids the action. But, to return to the first question,
what is it for a universal premise to forbid a particular action? These
crucial lines seem to be hastily and carelessly written, and in their
way they are worth almost as much commentary as has been spent
on the similarly short portion of the De Anima which deals with the
Active Intellect.
What is the Suppressed Premise?
If we follow the text of these ten lines closely and do not permit a
very wide latitude of interpretation, this becomes an unanswerable
question. The text is obscure indeed. It gives the syllogism which
issues in the action of the morally weak man clearly enough. The
universal premise is "All sweet things are pleasant" and the particular
premise is "That is sweet." But it does not give the opposing syllo-
gism explicitly. We are told that there is a universal judgment for-
bidding one to taste, and we are told that that same universal judgment
says "Avoid that thing." 34 Since a universal premise could hardly
say "Avoid that thing," some interpretation of the text is required.
There are two possibilities to be considered: "All tasting of an excessive
number of sweets is forbidden" and "All tasting of sweets is forbidden."
The particular premise of the first syllogism would be "That amounts
to an excessive number of sweets," and the particular premise of the
second syllogism would be simply "That is sweet."
It is the second alternative which fits the slender leads given in the
text. There is an earlier passage which illustrates the difference between
exercising one's knowledge of a universal premise and exercising one's
knowledge of a particular premise. The example given is complex.
The universal premise is "Dry food is good for every man." The parti-
cular premise is "This is dry food and I am a man." Aristotle remarks
t h a t one may know that one is a man but not know whether the food
** The text is ?j fiiv oiv Xiyei <pevyeiv TOVTO: N.E. 1147a34. T h i s could
only refer to the universal judgment previously mentioned, which R a c k h a m brings
out in translation.
before him is dry or not.*® Strict parallelism with this example would
dictate that the second alternative should be adopted. B u t since the
example may be offered to illustrate the differences between failing
to exercise a particular premise and failing to exercise a universal
premise, and not to illustrate akrasia itself, strict parallelism may
not be called for. Let us assume t h a t it is called for, and t h a t
the second alternative is the correct one. We then have a problem,
for how could "That is sweet" be the very premise which is "actually
operant" in the case of the pleasure syllogism, and a t the same time
be the premise which is suppressed in the prohibiting syllogism?
One ingenious way out of this difficulty is proposed by Joachim.
He compares the failure of knowledge involved in akrasia to the simi-
lar failure involved in error, which Aristotle discusses in the Prior
Analytics. Error is distinct from simple ignorance in t h a t in the case
of error there is a relevant universal which is known. The error comes,
in Joachim's language, when the universal does not "fuse and coalesce"
with the particular. As applied to akrasia, "the axQarrfg will realize
the applications and bearing of the major in some directions but not
in the particular case before him: or he will know t h a t the piece of
cake is sweet but will not fully see the implications of its sweetness:
i.e. his knowledge of the minor will be a mere piece of information
in his mind, not in vital connexion with his main thinking." 34 Fol-
lowing up this interpretation, Joachim says that the knowledge which
is suppressed is "This is sweet and therefore comes under the principle"
and the knowledge which is made vivid and operative by desire is
"This is sweet and therefore pleasant." 36
Ingenious as this interpretation is, it is hardly consistent with Aris-
totle's statement t h a t it is the particular premise which is suppressed.
In effect, Joachim offers as the minor premises of the two syllogisms
complex propositions which can be analyzed into the original minor
premise plus a "theoretical" conclusion. This can be seen by the use
33
N.E. 1146b35-1147al0. The difference between universal and particular pre-
m i s e s given at De Anima 4 3 4 a l 7 - 1 9 is complcx in the same way. A t De Motu Ani-
malium 701a25-30, it is said that the mind does not stop to consider an obvious
minor premise such as "I am a man." T h i s is not the same as the suppression which
is involved in akrasia.
34
Commentary, p. 224.
35
Ibid., p. 228.
of "therefore" in the premises. Although Joachim himself objects to

the interpretation of the suppressed premise which would a m o u n t to
the suppression of the conclusion, his own interpretation does not differ
significantly from just this.3* If we do not fit Joachim's version of the
suppressed knowledge into the framework of the practical syllogism in
this way, we are left with the interesting suggestion t h a t what the mor-
ally weak man loses is not his knowledge of the premises, but his ability
to combine them. The expressions which Joachim uses, "vital connect-
ion," "perception fusing with...knowledge," "vivid and full consciousness
of this percept as a case of the universal," only a m o u n t to a psycholo-
gizing way of saying t h a t the agent combines the premises. N o t to
know the percept as a case of the universal, not to combine thepremises,
not to draw the conclusion come to the same thing in the end. This
is a very interesting suggestion, and seems especially appropriate
to the example of the beginner in geometry; b u t there stands against
it the fact t h a t Aristotle could perfectly easily have said t h a t the
failure in akrasia is a failure of the discursive faculty (¿tdvota). 37
If one were not to adhere closely to the text, it would be an obvious
interpretation of the suppressed premise to say t h a t it expresses a parti-
cular moral judgment which is called a perception by Aristotle because
of its particularity. This is the interpretation offered by Ando. He
distiguishes between knowledge ot facts and knowledge of values,
and says t h a t the minor premise in strictly practical syllogisms "recog-
nizes the presence of a value in a particular case." 38 He finds it strange
t h a t scholars have not recognized the difference between ignorance
of fact and ignorance of value, and have not seen t h a t it is ignorance
of value which is involved in akrasia. 39 The reason for this, however,
34
Ibid., p. 225. Ross holds that Aristotle confuses minor premise and conclusion
several t i m e s in Book v i i . See his Aristotle, p. 213.
37
See Stewart, Notes I, 250 and II, 23 and 28, for a d i s c u s s i o n of Siavoia as the
a b i l i t y to combine premises.
38
A n d o , Aristotle's Theory, p. 278. That there is a d i s t i n c t i v e l y practical, that
i s , moral, deliberation, perception, and syllogism is the main argument of Ando's
book. The evaluative nature of the minor premise in such syllogisms is emphasized
at pp. 255, 285, 288, and especially 300-9.
39
There is a certain humor here. On p. 301, ibid., A n d o says that it is strange
that TeichmUller should take the example of a minor premise involving the taking
of dry food to be what is involved in akrasia. It is not so strange, since that seems
to be how Aristotle offers the example at 1147a5-10.
is simple: scholars have tried to remain true to the text before them
in offering interpretations, and the text of Book vii offers no clear
examples of a minor premise which is itself moral and not factual. 4 0
Ando's interpretation ultimately depends on wider issues which
are not considered by Aristotle in the passages in which the direct
analysis of akrasia is oftered. Among these issues are the nature of
practical reason and practical wisdom, and the relation of ignorance
to moral responsibility. It may well be that if the analysis of akrasia
is to be fitted into a broad picture of human conduct as Aristotle con-
ceives it, less attention should be paid to what appears to be a somewhat
carelessly written passage, and more to his more considered and
encompassing positions. It may also be t h a t the doctrine of the prac-
tical syllogism, according to which individual moral perceptions can
be analyzed as combinations of universal moral premises with partic-
ular factual premises, has permitted Aristotle to rescue Socrates'
position at the cost of this obscurity concerning the suppressed premise.
Whatever the explanation, there seems to be no way to confine oneself
to the text itself and offer a clear interpretation of just what is said
in the particular premise which is lost through the activity of desire.
How Are the Two Universal Premises Opposed?
Is akrasia like a fit t h a t comes on a person, leaving him for a period

bereft of reason, blindly snatching out to satisfy his desire? Xenophon
reports Socrates as saying t h a t akrasia is next to madness, and if
the true analysis of akrasia were t h a t reason is overcome by desire,
this would seem to be a sound comparison. Aristotle himself says
t h a t strong and violent desire can expel the power of calculation. 41
Despite this, he does not hold t h a t akrasia involves a movement out of
all relation to universal premises. The universal premise which is
40
A n d o recognizes t h i s a t p . 281, ibid., w h e r e h e i n t e r p r e t s t h e d r y f o o d e x a m p l e
as technical r a t h e r t h a n m o r a l . On p . 189, h e suggests t h a t A r i s t o t l e is n o t y e t
a w a r e of t h e clear d i s t i n c t i o n b e t w e e n v a l u e a n d f a c t . If t h i s is so, it is a r e m a r k -
able procedure t o m a k e t h a t d i s t i n c t i o n t h e f o u n d a t i o n of one's i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of
Aristotle.
41
N.E. 1 1 1 9 b l 0 . " E x p e l " t r a n s l a t e s exxQoveiv. Ross has "expel," R a c k h a m
h a s " o v e r p o w e r . " See A r i s t o t l e , Elhica Nicomachea, t r a n s . W . D . R o s s . T h e con-
t e x t refers t o axoAaoia, in w h i c h Xoyia/idg is expelled, n o t o v e r p o w e r e d .
110 A R I S T O T L E ' S ANALYSIS OF AKRASIA
involved in the morally weak action itself is "All sweet things are
pleasant." F u r t h e r understanding of this action will involve u n d e r -
s t a n d i n g how Aristotle construes this premise, which in turn involves
understanding the sense in which it is "accidentally" opposed to the
prohibiting universal premise.
There are several ways in which this opposition might be interpreted.
T h e prohibiting universal might be regarded as an imperative, a n d the
pleasure universal regarded as a s t a t e m e n t of fact. While this would
explain how they are not opposed, it would n o t explain how t h e y are,
albeit accidentally, opposed. This interpretation would also leave
t h e morally weak action without practical relation to a universal premise.
A n o t h e r interpretation might correct this shortcoming by interpreting
b o t h premises as having practical bearings in the wide sense, t h e pro-
hibiting one because of its imperative character a n d the pleasure one
because of the intrinsic relation of pleasure to appetite. The two prem-
ises would be opposed because, taken with t h e same p a r t i c u l a r
premise, they would yield contradictory actions. T h e y would be
unopposed in the sense t h a t the forbidding premise is moral in c h a r a c t e r ,
while the pleasure premise is amoral, perhaps technological in charac-
ter. 4 2 Or, finally, b o t h premises can be taken as having moral character.
I t is h a r d in this case to see how the two premises would be only acci-
dentally opposed.
It is this third possibility which is a d o p t e d by Stewart a n d Ando,
a n d again, while there m a y be compelling reasons stemming f r o m
w h a t Aristotle says elsewhere f o r adopting this view, it is a t variance
with the t e x t . Stewart says of the axgar?y£, "He incontinently tastes
something sweet, a n d then pleads in justification of his act the a u t h o r i t y
of a principle which he can represent as a rational one; for it is cer-
tainly true t h a t 'all sweet things are p l e a s a n t . ' It is n o t qua t r u e t h a t
this principle is contrary to the other principle... b u t qua implying
42
Fairbrother s e e m s t o a d o p t t h i s a l t e r n a t i v e , s a y i n g t h a t "at this moment it is right
t o f o l l o w o u t t h e o n e , wrong t o a c t a c c o r d i n g t o t h e o t h e r . " But he also says that
t h i s m o m e n t a r y o p p o s i t i o n is d u e t o s o m e "accidental" c a u s e . H i s example is a
" d o m e s t i c e v e n t " w h i c h m a k e s t h e universal p r e m i s e , "Men, after w o r k , should
look after t h e i r w i v e s and f a m i l i e s " more s t r i n g e n t l y b i n d i n g t h a n u s u a l . See "Aris-
t o t l e ' s T h e o r y of I n c o n t i n e n c e , " p. 3 6 8 . T h i s s e e m s to m e t o be far f r o m an "acci-
d e n t a l cause" in t h i s k i n d of c a s e , a n d in a n y e v e n t A r i s t o t l e is n o t concerned here
for t h e t o p i c s of s t r i n g e n c y and e x c e p t i o n s .
the desire to disobey t h a t principle." Stewart also says t h a t all the

dxQaTrjs means by his universal premise is "I am passionately fond
of sweet things," so t h a t this premise is really only an expression of
his desire." Ando says much the same thing: "Only when an appetite
asserts itself against the moral wish under the cloak of rationality,
does it appear in the form of the sophistic syllogism." 44
There are two arguments against this kind of interpretation. The
first is that, to belabor the obvious, Aristotle says that it is not the
pleasure universal which is (essentially) opposed to the prohibiting
premise, but the desire itself. The pleasure universal can hardly be
merely an expression of the desire if there is this difference between
them. The second is t h a t Aristotle does not see the morally weak
man as trying to justify or excuse himself, but as suffering remorse.
One might argue t h a t he excuses himself a t the time of the act and
suffers remorse later; but he could as well be said to suffer remorse
even if he did not excuse himself at all, but simply lost all sense of
moral justification. Once again, there are considerable arguments
which can be offered in favor of this interpretation, but they are not
drawn from the text of this passage. 44
In the next chapter we will present various interpretations of Aris-
totle's analysis of akrasia which are based on the positions adopted
by Aristotle on relevant subjects in other places in his writings. Now
we will conclude our exposition of his direct analysis in the ethical
writings by considering what he has to say about the voluntariness and
the blameworthiness of akrasia.
43
Notes II, 159-60. H e adds, "Then men attempt to excuse themselves by plead-
ing the 'rationality of their desire'—by transmuting inidvftia into nav yXvxv
jdv."
44
Aristotle's Theory, p. 278. H e refers to N.E. 1147a24. This must be a misprint
for 1147a34. H i s commentary on that passage is, "This statement implies t h a t
the conduct of an incontinent man is determined by the m a x i m of enjoyment, w h i c h
dominates individual cognition against the advice of prudence." See p. 305.
48
Burnet sees clearly the difference between the premise "All sweet things ought
t o be tasted" and the premise "All sweet things are pleasant." The former is, and
the latter is not, contradictory to the premise "No sweet things ought to be tasted."
H e also sees the question about the morally weak action, for he concludes h i s com-
ment by asking whether the bad act can follow from the pleasure universal. See
The Ethics, p. 303.
112 ABISTOTLE'S ANALYSIS OF AKRASIA
Akrasia and the Voluntary
One of t h e m o s t i n t e r e s t i n g features of A r i s t o t l e ' s t r e a t m e n t of

akrasia is t h e w a y in w h i c h it is related t o the criteria for v o l u n t a r y
a c t i o n in the Eudemian Ethics. W e h a v e already mentioned that
e x c e p t for a single s e n t e n c e , this discussion is o m i t t e d from t h e Nico-
machean Ethics, a n d there is no parallel effort to a s s e s s t h e v o l u n t a r i n e s s
of m o r a l l y w e a k action. H o w e v e r , the problem is briefly c o v e r e d , a n d
i t will be of considerable interest to trace a n d c o m p a r e the t w o t r e a t -
m e n t s . T h e d i s c u s s i o n in t h e Eudemian Ethics centers a r o u n d t h e c o n -
c e p t of c o m p u l s i o n , w h i l e t h a t in the Nicomachean Ethics centers
a r o u n d t h e c o n c e p t of ignorance.
In t h e Eudemian Ethics, the c o n c e p t s of akrasia and ¿yxgareia
are u s e d t o d e m o n s t r a t e t h a t the v o l u n t a r y c a n n o t be i d e n t i f i e d as
a g r e e m e n t w i t h a p p e t i t e in a n y of its forms. A p p e t i t e (8QE£I$) is
divided into wish (POVATJOU;), anger (dv/XOS), a n d desire (¿niOv/iia.).**
T h e a r g u m e n t s are c o m p l e x , b u t the gist of t h e w h o l e series is t h a t
if t h e v o l u n t a r y is i d e n t i f i e d w i t h a p p e t i t e , t h e n in t h e cases of akrasia
a n d iyxQaxeia, where w i s h a n d desire are o p p o s e d , t h e s a m e a c t will
be both voluntary and involuntary. 4 7
44
E.E. 1223a26-27. In keeping with this division, there is a discussion of axgaoia
Ovfiov at 1223bl8-24. This may be an argument lor assigning Book vii of the Nico-
machean Ethics to the Eudemian Ethics, for dvftdg does not figure by name in the
discussion of akrasia and the parts of the soul in chapter 13 of Book i of the Nico-
machean Ethics, and it is discussed at length in Book vii. In the Nicomachean Ethics
it is the appetitive part of the soul (TO ogexrixov) which obeys reason, whereas
at 1220b7-10 of the Eudemian Ethics it is the emotional or passionate faculties
( r a s dvva/iets raiv naOr)fidT(Dv) that are capable of following reason. At 1221b27-
1222a5 of the latter, we can see the line of argument that leads from ndO to ogef«{
as the generic name for the irrational part of the soul which obeys reason. The
heart of the argument is that the powers and dispositions of the emotions are dis-
tinguished by pleasure and pain. A parallel argument is summarized at 1105al2-16
of the Nicomachean Ethics. Since dge$iQ is the power that has to do with pleasure
and pain, what we have is a reduction of ndOrj to oge$ig.
17
E.E. 1223a21-1225a2. The elaborateness of these argumenis seems faintly out
of keeping with the general economy of statement which characterizes the Eudemian
Ethics, which suggest that Aristotle is referring to such a work as Xenocrates' IJegi
Eyxgaxeiai;. Here is a sample argument: The morally weak man acts in accordance
with his desire and against his calculation. In doing this he acts unjustly. Unjust
action is voluntary. Therefore action in accordance with desire is voluntary. But
When he passes on to discuss the relation of choice to the volun-

tary, he raises the question of whether akrasia and éyxgáxeia are n o t
examples of compulsion. Both types of men undergo pain in their action,
the morally strong man in going against his desire, and the morally
weak man in going against his wish. Since pain is a mark of compulsion,
one might argue t h a t both are compelled (and thus t h a t action in
both cases is involuntary). 4 8 His resolution of this difficulty is based
upon a recognition t h a t there is more than one moving principle in
man, and t h a t one must distinguish between what can be said of these
parts of the soul a n d what can be said of the soul as a whole. It m a y
be said ot the p a r t s in the cases of akrasia and eyxqáxeia t h a t they
act by compulsion, b u t the soul as a whole, in both cases, acts volun-
tarily. ( E . E . 1224b26-36)
This theme of the division of the parts of the soul is stressed again
in two later passages concerning the question of whether a man can be
a friend to himself or not:
For in a way self-love is friendship by analogy, but not absolutely. For
being loved and loving involve two separate factors; owing to which a
man is his own friend rather in the way in which, in the case of the un-
restrained and the self-restrained man, we have said how one has those
qualities voluntarily or involuntarily—namely by the parts of one's spirit
being related to each other in a certain way; and all such matters are
a similar thing,—whether a man can be his own friend or foe, and whether
a man can treat himself unjustly. For all these relations involve two
separate factors; in so far then as the spirit is in a manner two, these re-
lations do in a manner belong to it, but in so far as the two are not separ-
ate, they do not. (E.E. 1240al3-21)
In a wicked man on the other hand, for instance in one who lacks self-
control, there is discord, and because of this it is thought to be possible
for a man actually to be his own enemy; but as being one and indivisible
he is desirable to himself. This is the case with a good man and one whose
friendship is based on goodness, because assuredly an evil man is not a
single individual but many, and a different person in the same day, and
unstable. Hence even a man's affection for himself carries back to the
good man's self-love; for because he is in a way like himself, a single person,
t h e v o l u n t a r y is w h a t o n e w i s h e s , and w h a t one w i s h e s is v o l u n t a r y . T h e m o r a l l y
weak man acts against his wish. Therefore, t h e s a m e a c t i o n w i l l b e b o t h volun-
tary and i n v o l u n t a r y , w h i c h is i m p o s s i b l e .
48
E.E. 1224a20-36. T h e a r g u m e n t is repeated at 1 2 2 4 M 6 - 2 4 , w h e r e it i s p o i n t -
ed out that b o t h also h a v e pleasure.
good to himself, he is in this way dear and desirable to himself. And a

man is like that by nature, but a wicked man is contrary to nature. (E.E.
1240bl2-21)
These passages suggest t h a t in the cases of akrasia and eyxgdreia
we have a division of the soul which may be something more than the
functional division contemplated by most of the passages on t h a t
subject found in the De Anima. But we have already argued t h a t in
such a functional division, the parts will be distinct from each other
in different ways, and this division of the soul of the axgarijg is one
way in which such parts can be divided. In view of an argument, which
we will consider later, to the effect t h a t any psychology which adopts
the conception of parts of the soul must violate the conditions for
moral responsibility, it should be noted t h a t even here in the Eudemian
Ethics, where such a stress is placed on the division of the soul, Aris-
totle insists on the voluntary character of morally weak action. He
even points 011 that in an absolute sense, both in the case of akrasia
and ¿yxgdreia the action is according to nature, since it eventually
arises from either desire or reason. The one we have by birth and the
other by growth, and these are the defining characteristics of the natu-
ral. (E.E. 1224b29-36)
In discussing the relation ot akrasia to the other criterion for involun-
tariness, namely, ignorance, we will use the version of the Nicomachean
Ethics. In Book iii it is said t h a t certain kinds of ignorance render
an action involuntary. This ignorance must concern particular cir-
cumstances of the action rather than general moral principles, and for
the action to be classed as involuntary rather than nonvoluntary, the
discovery of the truth about those circumstances must give rise to
pain and regret. (N.E. 1 1 1 0 b l 8 - l l l l a 2 1 ) If we should assume t h a t
the suppressed premise of the morally weak man refers to any of these
circumstances, and if we consider the repentance which Aristotle
attributes to the morally weak man, we should be able to conclude
t h a t morally weak action is involuntary because it is based on ignorance.
It is because of the possibility of this argument that Ando concludes
t h a t the ignorance involved in moral weakness must be the ignorance
of value rather than the ignorance of fact. 49
Aristotle does not dispose of this argument directly. He offers the
somewhat puzzling remark t h a t although the axgaTifc "errs willingly (for
" See Aristotle's Theory, pp. 301-5.

he knows in a sense both what he is doing and what end he is aiming

at), yet he is not wicked, for his moral choice (ngoatQeatg) is sound,
so that he is only half-wicked." (N.E. 1152al5-17) But he offers a
general distinction which disposes of the argument, and it is noteworthy
that the distinction is not between fact and value. This is the dis-
tinction between action done through ignorance (61 ayvoiav) and action
done in ignorance ( dyvoovvxa). Aristotle does not expand on this
distinction when he first introduces it, offering only the examples
of drunkenness and anger as conditions in which men act in ignorance,
or ignorantly, but not through or because of ignorance. (N.E. 1110b24-
27) He goes on to argue that in such cases as drunkenness and habit-
ual negligence the agent is responsible not only for the main action
but for the ignorance in which he commits it as well, for men know
the effects of wine and they know that their actions lead to habits.
(N.E. 1113b30-ll14al0)
The mention of drunkenness both in this passage and in the analysis
of akrasia is some slight evidence that this is the way Aristotle would
approach the ignorance of the dxgaTrjg.60 The ignorance here is not a
50 B o s s states t h a t t h i s is t h e alternative which Aristotle adopts as a g a i n s t the

position t h a t moral weakness is involuntary. See his Aristotle, p. 216. I do not
know of a passage which e x p l i c i t l y states t h a t the morally weak man a c t s i n , but
not through, ignorance, but it seems a safe i n t e r p r e t a t i o n . However, Reginald
J a c k s o n has challenged B o s s on t h i s point, holding t h a t the ignorance involved
in akrasia is neither of t h e two kinds recognized by A r i s t o t l e . H i s arguments are
t h a t action through ignorance is ruled out because of t h e voluntariness of akrasia
and action in ignorance is ruled out because (a) the ignorance is of the m i n o r prem-
ise and (b) because a c t i o n in ignorance is ignorance in choice, but a k r a s i a is not
action through choice. See R e g i n a l d J a c k s o n , " R a t i o n a l i s m and Intellectualism
in the E t h i c s of A r i s t o t l e , " Mind, N . S . L I (1942), 3 4 3 - 6 0 , especially 3 5 5 . I think
t h a t J a c k s o n has m i s t a k e n an inclusion for an equivalence in h i s interpretation
of N.E. 1110bl8-llllal. The m a i n p o i n t about action in ignorance seems t o b e
t h a t t h i s kind of a c t i o n is neither nonvoluntary nor involuntary. A r i s t o t l e then
goes on to include in t h i s class of a c t i o n s those c o m m i t t e d by wicked men and t o
c o m m e n t on t h e kind of ignorance in choice, t h a t is, general ignorance, which these
men have. Carrying out t h i s line of thought, such general ignorance is contrasted
w i t h particular ignorance (xaO' ixaaxa), which is carefully qualified as "ignorance
of the circumstances of t h e a c t and of t h e things affected by i t . " (ev olq xai negi
& »5 J t g a f i ; ) T h i s line of thought does not seem to me to imply t h a t all ignorance
involved in action in ignorance, is ignorance of general moral principles. On p. 356,
J a c k s o n offers a further argument which is interesting and which raises t h e prob
lem of the nature of t h e action performed in akrasia. I t is that b o t h action through
m i s t a k e w h i c h c h a n g e s the n a t u r e ol a n a c t i o n . It is rather part of

t h e v i c i o u s a c t i o n itself, a n d is c u l p a b l e i g n o r a n c e , or p e r h a p s a special
v a r i e t y of h a b i t u a l n e g l i g e n c e . It is p o s s i b l e t h a t t h i s k i n d of i g n o r a n c e
i n c l u d e s i g n o r a n c e of v a l u e , b u t it can also i n c l u d e i g n o r a n c e of f a c t . A
d r u n k e n m a n is a s r e s p o n s i b l e for his i n a b i l i t y t o tell p u m i c e f r o m
g r a n i t e a s he is for his i n a b i l i t y t o r e m e m b e r t h a t i t is w r o n g t o t h r o w
r o c k s a t people. 6 1
T h e r e r e m a i n s a final q u e s t i o n . N o d o u b t m o r a l l y w e a k a c t i o n is
" v o l u n t a r y " a c t i o n for A r i s t o t l e , a n d he d o e s n o t c o n s i d e r it t o be deliber-
a t e a c t i o n , t h a t is, a c t i o n t h a t o r i g i n a t e s in ngoaigeois. Exactly what
he means by the term "voluntary" (exovaiov) is a q u e s t i o n w h i c h
g o e s b e y o n d t h e s c o p e of t h i s inquiry. H e o f f e r s a general c h a r a c t e r i z a -
t i o n for w h a t it is w o r t h : "An i n v o l u n t a r y a c t i o n b e i n g o n e d o n e u n d e r
c o m p u l s i o n or t h r o u g h i g n o r a n c e , a v o l u n t a r y a c t w o u l d s e e m t o be an
a c t of w h i c h t h e origin lies in t h e a g e n t , w h o k n o w s t h e particular
c i r c u m s t a n c e s in w h i c h he is acting." 4 2 D e l i b e r a t e a c t s are a s u b c l a s s
ignorance and action in ignorance are positively determined by ignorance in the

form of the presence of false belief. But in the case of akrasia the ignorance is nega-
tive, that is, it is the absence of knowledge. This, it seems to me, amounts to saying
that the two recognized types of "ignorance" are really types of error. While it is
true that the wicked man as presented by Aristotle is in error about moral prin-
ciples, and that some of the examples of ignorance of circumstances that Aristotle
gives amount to errors, for instance, mistaking a son for an enemy, other examples
are not errors in this way. Ignorance of action is illustrated by letting a secret
slip while speaking, and ignorance of manner, by hitting a blow while intending
only to grip a hand. Again Jackson seems to have imposed a strictness which the
texts will not support.
51
Ando discusses the relation of ignorance to akrasia on pp. 169-70 of Aristotle's
Theory, but does not carry through the implications for his own interpretation of
akrasia as "ignorance of value."
M
N.E. l l l l a 2 2 - 2 4 . Gauthier argues that "voluntary" and "voluntarily" are not
accurate translations of exovaiov and extbv, these terms referring rather to action
which is done <ie bon coeur, "willingly." See La Morale, p. 42. But at N.E. Ill3b21-
30, Aristotle argues that punishment and encouragement are common practices
and that this implies that certain of our actions are voluntary (exevata). He goes
on, "but nobody tries to encourage us to do things that do not depend on ourselves
and are not voluntary, since it is no good our being persuaded not to feel heal or
pain or hunger or the like, because we shall feel them all the same." This suggests
a more technical sense to these terms than Gauthier admits. This more technical
sense is also implied in the discussion of involuntary and nonvoluntary movements
of animals in the De Motu Animalium, at 703b3-26.
of voluntary acts, being those acts which are chosen as a result of

deliberation. ( N . E . I l l lb6-10) For an action to merit praise or blame,
reward or punishment, it must be voluntary But if it is only voluntary
and is not deliberate, it is not an action with which virtue and vice
are concerned, for these are dispositions to choose, in the full sense.
What is the moral status of morally weak action, then, since it is volun-
tary, but not deliberate?
Aristotle does not consider this to be a very searching question,
for we have heard him say that the morally weak man is only half
wicked. He distinguishes between that which is to be avoided (<pevxx6v)
and that is blameworthy (Y>EXT6V), but he assigns akrasia to both
classes. (N.E. 1145al5-17, 1148b5-6) For all this, he says that the
morally weak man is better than the incorrigible man, and is not wholly
bad (tpavAog), even though akrasia is a bad disposition. (N.E. 1151a5-6,
24-28) The criteria which he employs in the evaluation of the different
types of akrasia betray little evidence of system: the man who pursues
excessive pleasures when he feels only weak desires is worse than the
one who feels intense desires, for what would the former do if he did
feel intense desires? (N.E. 1148al7-22, 1150a27-31) 'Axgaaia dv/iov
is less disgraceful than axgaaia cbrAcos because dv/i6g heeds reason
to some extent, is more widespread and therefore more natural, is
more straightforward and open, and does not degrade its victim as
much. (N.E. 1149a24-1149b27) The dxQaTijt; is better than the ax6-
ACKXTOC because in the former, moral knowledge is preserved, and it is
not in the latter. (N.E. 1151al 1-25) All this represents an effort to
remain close to common opinion rather than to explore the somewhat
anomalous moral status of moral weakness.
We have now reviewed the bulk ot what Aristotle has to say about
akrasia in the ethical writings, and we have seen that his position is
complex and, to a certain extent, ambiguous. An adequate inter-
pretation of that position will require the consideration of materials
drawn from other portions of the ethical writings as well as from the
De Anima. We shall turn now to various efforts to offer such an inter-
pretation.
CHAPTER V
INTERPRETATIONS OF ARISTOTLE'S DOCTRINE
Interpretations of Aristotle's analysis of akrasia fall into three classes.

There is first a distinction between narrowly contextual and broadly
integrative interpretations, according to whether or not the analysis
should be taken as a whole and related to wider issues in Aristotle's
philosophy. If the integrative method is adopted, there is a further
distinction between the interpretation t h a t stresses the element of
appetite and one that stresses knowledge. We shall adopt the integra-
tive method and try to develop an interpretation which does justice
to both the appetitive and cognitive aspects of the situation. This
will involve us in a cursory investigation of the teleological character
of appetite, and in a much more protracted investigation of Aristotle's
conception of practical reasoning. An understanding of the knowledge
which is lost in akrasia requires an understanding of the teleological
character of practical reasoning, and this will in turn require that
we do justice to Aristotle's statements t h a t deliberation concerns the
means to ends as well as his practice in presenting examples of what
might appear to be quite another kind of reasoning, the application
of rules to examples. We shall present an interpretation of Aristotle's
conception of practical reasoning which is based on his distinction
between doing and making and which integrates the two functions of
discerning means to end and applying rules to examples. This will
enable us to resolve the problem concerning the suppressed premise.
We shall then be in a position to investigate the reasoning which Aris-
totle attributes to the vicious man, and by a comparison with this
kind of reasoning, to come to some conclusions about the nature of
morally weak action itself.
It is an often remarked peculiarity of Aristotle's thought that he
concentrates on problems in the contexts in which they arise, and
t h a t his use of such fundamental philosophical distinctions as form-
matter and actuality-potentiality is contextual in t h a t the particular
applications are determined by the particular problem to which they
INTERPRETATIONS 119
lend clarification. This, which we m a y call the analytic aspect of

Aristotle's t h o u g h t , makes the task of integrative i n t e r p r e t a t i o n more
hazardous and subtle t h a n it might otherwise be. Aristotle himself
makes much of naibeia, which for him means the kind of intellectual
culture which is able to discern the methods and a r g u m e n t s a p p r o -
priate to different types of rational enterprises, so t h a t one does n o t
expect m a t h e m a t i c a l d e m o n s t r a t i o n s from an orator nor common
opinions f r o m a m a t h e m a t i c i a n . I t is perhaps a sensitivity t o this
aspect of Aristotle's t h o u g h t which has led some scholars to i n t e r -
p r e t the doctrine of chapter 3 of Book vii in ways which divide t h e
analyses presented there into a "real" doctrine and a less "real" doctrine,
aimed only a t some special audience. We have mentioned these inter-
pretations already, b u t we will indicate t h e m once again a n d give
reasons for finding them unconvincing.
B u r n e t ' s interpretation is t h a t only the final analysis of akrasia is
t h e "real" analysis, the others being addressed to the Academy, showing
how the distinction between actual and potential knowledge which is
mentioned in the Theatetus can be used to explain akrasia. The objec-
tion to this interpretation is only t h a t it is somewhat pointless. B u r n e t
a d m i t s t h a t the previous analyses successively "go a little deeper"
a n d t h a t they, "though provisional, have gradually paved the w a y "
for the final one. 1 We have already argued t h a t since the distinc-
tion between actual and potential knowledge is combined with t h e
distinction between the universal and the particular premise, there
is small point in taking these distinctions in any m u t u a l l y exclusive
sense. Since B u r n e t as much as a d m i t s this, it would seem t h a t r a t h e r
t h a n say t h a t the final analysis is "real" in some way t h a t the others
are not, we should simply recognize t h a t here, as elsewhere, Aristotle
finds much of value in the positions of his predecessors a n d m a k e s
use of their positions in constructing his own account.
We h a v e also mentioned the interpretation of Robinson, which
a d o p t s B u r n e t ' s assumption of a f u n d a m e n t a l difference between dia-
lectic and science b u t reverses the emphasis. According to Robinson,
it is the logical distinction between having and using knowledge which
1
The Ethics, pp. 2 9 9 - 3 0 1 . Fairbrothcr offers a variant on t h i s interpretation,
holding t h a t the d i s t i n c t i o n s b e t w e e n h a v i n g and u s i n g knowledge, are not i n t e n d e d
as analyses of akrasia, but of pseudo-akrasia. See "Aristotle's Theory of Incon-
t i n e n c e , " Mind, N'.S. VI (1897), 363-67.
120 INTERPRETATIONS
gives the real analysis of akrasia, because the problem of akrasia is a

strictly logical problem. He argues that akrasia is a psychological
impossibility:
Il n'arrive point qu'un homme s'occupe à considérer, dans sa totalité et
dans toutes ses parties, un raisonnement qui lui defend de commettre un
certain acte et, en même temps, s'abandonne à un fort désir et fasse ce
que le désir veut. L'âme humaine n'est pas adaptée à faire deux choses
à la fois avec une attention complète à chacune. 1
This interpretation requires the supposition t h a t Aristotle does not
envisage the two syllogisms to be complete at the same time. Robinson
presents two arguments, which hardly seem consistent with one another,
to support this position. The first is t h a t in the expression at N.E.
1147a34, which reads ?5 /¿èv oUv Xéyet <pevyeiv xovxo ("the one
says to avoid this"), the Xéyet must not be taken in such a way as
to imply a complete syllogism. Since it is not conditional, but straight-
forwardly indicative, this is not an easy reading to follow. Robinson
simply says t h a t Xéyei is imprecise enough for the clause to read, "the
one tends to forbid...."* But then he also argues t h a t in the case of
the kind of akrasia that Aristotle calls "weakness" (àoOéveia) we are
not to consider the -deliberation simultaneous with the action. The
weak man may have completed the prohibiting syllogism, but his
desire "drives out" a part of that syllogism, after which he acts.
Unfortunately, Robinson does not consider the condition of the
morally weak man while one of his premises is being driven out. Pre-
sumably he is in some state of conflict. We must always be careful in
interpreting Aristotle to make sure that what seems to us to be some
obvious truth is indeed obvious to Aristotle. We have seen t h a t while
he is careful not to attribute to the morally weak man contradictory be-
liefs, he has no scruples about admitting the opposition of desire to
belief. There is an obscure passage in the De Anima in which he con-
siders the impossibility t h a t a faculty should be moved in opposite
directions at the same time and concludes that even the judging faculty
must be divisible in essence. (De Anima 426b31-427al6) Since the
appetitive faculty and the reasoning faculty are even more obviously
divisible in essence for Aristotle, opposition in these gross terms at
least must be distinctly possible for him.
2
" L ' a c r a s i e , " p. 270.
3 Ibid., p. 266.
INTERPRETATIONS 121
Robinson has called attention to a difficult issue of interpretation,

however. Of his two arguments it is the second which we have adopted
as against Cook Wilson's assumption that akrasia must be analyzed
as either partial blindness or mental conflict but not both. There
is evidence t h a t this conception of "driving out" constitutes a real
possibility for Aristotle, even within the limits of a single faculty:
The same thing occurs in other cases when a man tries to do two things
at once; the pleasanter activity drives out the other, the more so if it is
much more pleasant, until the other activity ceases altogether. Hence,
when we enjoy something very much, we can hardly do anything else;
and when we find a thing only mildly agreeable, we turn to some other
occupation; for instance, people who eat sweets at the theatre do so
especially when the acting is bad. (N.E. 1175b6-13)
And in the passages which we have mentioned in connection with akra-

sia and the voluntary in the Eudemian Ethics, such driving out is ap-
plied to the conception of akrasia: "for calculation and appetition are
things quite separate, and each is pushed aside by the other." ( E . E .
1224b23-24)
Robinson seems to consider t h a t "abandoning oneself to a desire"
is something t h a t one does with complete attention. The concept of
attention may raise problems which are foreign to Aristotle's psychology,
but if we take it loosely, we may say t h a t Aristotle recognizes situa-
tions in which attention is not "complete" in this sense of total focus,
but rather is divided. And, indeed, partial distraction i§ an obvious
fact of human experience. W h a t gives meaning to the difficulty Rob-
inson raises is not the peculiar nature of human attention, but the
nature of human action. It is not possible both to eat the sweet and
leave it on the table. And since the conclusion to a practical syllogism
is an action, it does seem at variance with Aristotle's doctrine to say
t h a t at some point both syllogisms can be complete. But it is difficult
to see how we can preserve Aristotle's distinction between impetuous-
ness and weakness unless we assume t h a t the forbidding syllogism can
be complete, and t h a t before the action is performed, desire clouds the
understanding of the minor premise. If we consider t h a t in Aristotle's
example of the sweet the "action" of avoidance may take some time, we
might even conclude that the morally weak man does avoid the object
for a while but that he then passes over into the act of pursuit —i.e.,
he eats the sweet after a struggle. All we can say to the difficulty raised
122 INTERPRETATIONS
by Robinson is t h a t it illuminates one reason w h y Aristotle m a y

h a v e analyzed akrasia as a kind of blindness a n d t h a t Aristotle
himself does not appear to have been very d i s t u r b e d a b o u t t h e impossi-
b i l i t y of giving one's a t t e n t i o n to different o b j e c t s a t the same time.
T h e problem of akrasia is not t r e a t e d by Aristotle as strictly a log-
ical problem, then, and this makes it plausible t o a d o p t an integra-
tive m e t h o d of interpretation, and s u p p l e m e n t w h a t is found in Book vii
b y w h a t he has to say a b o u t akrasia, a n d a b o u t o t h e r relevant subjects,
elsewhere. We shall first consider an i n t e r p r e t a t i o n which is based
on Aristotle's conception of appetite, and a f t e r presenting certain recent
developments in scholarship concerning his conception of practical
reasoning, we shall consider an i n t e r p r e t a t i o n based on those devel-
opments. Before we do this, we can indicate s o m e t h i n g of w h a t is
m e a n t by adequacy in Aristotelian i n t e r p r e t a t i o n by pointing out
the limitation of a strictly physiological i n t e r p r e t a t i o n . Aristotle says
t h a t t h e explanation of how t h e knowledge of t h e morally weak m a n is
recovered is to be found naga TWV <pvaioX6ya)v.(N.E. 1147b8-9) W e have
mentioned the differences of opinion as t o w h e t h e r this refers t o his
own De Somno et Vigilia or t o some other writings, b u t it is certainly
possible t h a t he intends some reference t o his own work. T h e doctrine
which is presented there is summarized in the following passage:
We have now stated the cause of sleeping, viz., t h a t it consists in the

recoil by the corporeal element, upborne by the connatural heat, in a
mass upon the primary sense-organ; we have also stated what sleep is,
having shown t h a t it is a seizure of the primary sense-organ, rendering
it unable to actualize its powers; arising of necessity (for it is impossible
for an animal to exist if the conditions which render it an animal be not
fulfilled), i.e., for the sake of its conservation; since remission of movement
tends to the conservation of animals. 4
The p r i m a r y sense organ in this passage is the h e a r t , a n d sleep is in-
duced because this p r i m a r y sense organ is t h e organ of t h e common
4
De Somno et Vigilia 458a25-32. Beare t r a n s l a t i o n . B u r n e t refers t o the De
Somno et Vigilia and also t o Physics 247bl3-248a6, which makes the incidental
remark t h a t the recovery of k n o w l e d g e b y a m a n w h o w a s drunk or a s l e e p i n v o l v e s
an a l t e r a t i o n of t h e body. See The Ethics, p. 3 0 4 . A n d o offers a physiological
i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of moral weakness based on t h e a s s o c i a t i o n of desire w i t h t h e heart.
T h i s i n v o l v e s t h e difficult d o c t r i n e that w i s h is "more d i s t a n t " from t h e b o d y than
desire i s . See Aristotle's Theory, pp. 160-61.
INTERPRETATIONS 123
sense, which controls the other senses. (De Somno ei Vigilia 455a25-b2)
Suppose then, that we should say that akrasia is nothing but a certain
disturbance of the heart or some other organ. There are two ways
in which such an interpretation would be inadequate. In the first
place, it would only give the matter and not the form, whereas Aristotle
says that they should be studied together.* Second, even though Aristot-
le says that the recovery of knowledge has something to do with the
alteration of the body, and therefore he must think that the loss of
knowledge has something to do with the body, he also says that desire
is able to move the parts of the body. Attention must be paid to desire
as such, then, in addition to the bodily alterations which are involved.
Akrasia Is a Conflict of Appetites
Perhaps the interpretation which seems most obvious is that of

Cook Wilson, according to which in akrasia both syllogisms are com-
plete and the issue between them is decided through the two types of
appetite which are involved. He writes as if appetite could struggle
with knowledge and also as if appetite in the form of desire struggles
with appetite in the form of wish.4 We shall begin our discussion with
the latter thesis. 'EyxgatEia would then be explained as the victory of
wish in such a conflict, and akrasia as the victory of desire. If we do
not reject the authenticity of the analysis of akrasia which represents
it as involving a loss of knowledge, how can we find an interpretation
which will do justice to both aspects of the situation? The clue to such
an interpretation is to be found in the psychology of motion which
is developed in the third book of the De Anima and in the De Motu
Animalium. This psychology is summarized in the following passage
from the De Anima:
In form, then, the moving cause will be one, that is the appetitive faculty
in so far as it is appetitive, and first of all the object craved (for this, though
6 At least the <pvaix6; should study the affections of the soul in this way. See
the discussion of anger as the surging of blood around the heart and as the craving
for retaliation, at De Anima 403a25-403bl2.
• Structure, p. 49. Among the passages which he cites, the most impressive are
two from the De Anima: 433bo, in which it is said that when reason and desire
are contrary, appetites are contrary too, and 4 3 4 a l 3 - 1 5 , which says that when
akrasia occurs, appetite acts on appetite.
124 INTERPRETATIONS
not itself moving, produces movement by being thought of or imagined),

but the actual moving causes are plural.
But there are three things to be considered: first the moving cause,
secondly the means by which it produces movement, and thirdly the thing
moved. The moving cause has two senses, one unmoved and one produc-
ing movement and moving; but the practical good is unmoved, while
the moving and the moved are the appetite (for that which is moved
moves, in so far as there is a craving, and the movement is a form of
appetence actualized), but the thing moved is the living creature; the in-
strument of moving is the craving, and this is bodily; so it must be
among the functions which are common to body and soul.7
The doctrine can be epitomized as: "All appetite is for an end." (De
Anima 433al5) The end is the unmoved mover of the living creature,
and the end must be apprehended before the appetitive part can move
the body. Since the appetitive part is not autonomous, to think of
appetite struggling against knowledge, if by knowledge we should
mean all apprehension of an end, is impossible for Aristotle. If there
is a conflict of appetites it will involve some kind of a conflict of appre-
hension, for without apprehension there is no activation of appetite.
This aspect of Aristotle's psychology of movement has been utilized
by D.J. Allan in the development of an interpretation of the relation
of reason to action according to Aristotle. So far as akrasia is concerned,
the interpretation is succintly presented in the following remarks:
All action proceeds from desire, which has two main objects, the good
and the pleasant. Desire of both kinds, however, needs to be interpreted
by "imagination" and the imaginative pictures vary in degree of strength
and vivacity. When a conflict of desire arises it will be decided, perhaps
after an interval of hesitation, by the strength of the contending "imag-
inative pictures"; and this applies to the conflict between the heteroge-
neous motives of the good and the pleasant, no less than to that between
motives on the same level.'
7
De Anima 433bl0-21. See also De Motu Animalium 700bl5-29, 701a29-701bl,
702a5-10.
• D . J . Allan, "The Practical Syllogism," Autour d'Aristote, p. 333. Allan uses
"desire" where we have used "appetite." He refers t o N.E. 1145b36-1146a3. I
cannot see that t h i s passage warrants the generalization he makes from i t . The
passage refers t o a person v a c i l l a t i n g in o p i n i o n (<5d£a) and makes no use of the
terms tpavraaia or <pdvraa/ia. Fairbrother also emphasizes the role of images in
akrasia. See Mind, N.S. VI (1897), 369. T h i s e m p h a s i s recalls Plato's remarks
in t h e Timaeus about the close relationship of images and the lower appetites.
INTERPRETATIONS 125
This would constitute a comparatively simple interpretation of

akrasia, and one t h a t could include both the appetitive and the cog-
nitive aspects of the situation. Presumably Allan considers the strength
and vivacity of the imaginative pictures to vary with the strength
of the appetites themselves. There is some obscurity with regard to
these properties of strength and vivacity, however. If all t h a t is meant
by strength and vivacity is the attractiveness of an image, there is
little point in saying t h a t the issue is decided by the images. Aristotle
makes a good deal of imagination in the Rhetoric, but there it is the
pleasure associated with the image t h a t he stresses.' If what is meant
is the pleasure t h a t is associated with an image or the attractiveness of
an image, then it is not through the essential qualities of image t h a t
the issue is decided. On the other hand, if what is meant is the vividness
of images, then, while this might be relevant to the determination of
an object as such, the connection is not apparent between this and
the status of the image as an end. One might well have a vivid image
of something repulsive or of something completely neutral so far as
action is concerned. To reduce Allan's interpretation to absurdity, we
might say t h a t the essential properties of images as such are colors
and t h a t the issue in mental conflict is decided by the intensity of
the colors. This is transparently false.
B u t false or not, we must consider whether Aristotle must be inter-
preted to hold such a position. The chief difficullty with such an inter-
pretation is the crucial doctrine t h a t in the case of /¡OVATJOIS, appetite
in some way depends on an opinion as to what is good. In the passage
t h a t we cited from the De Anima, the unmoved mover is either thought
of (voeiv) or imagined, and in the case of wish, the former is the case.
Furthermore, Aristotle carefully distinguishes between imagination and
opinion and he concludes t h a t imagination not only is not opinion
but also t h a t it is not any combination of opinion and sensation. 10
• Rhetoric 1370a27-32: because memory and expectation are accompanied b y

images, they m a y be accompanied by pleasure. 1370b32-34: victory is pleasant,
for there is produced a iparraaia of superiority. 1371al9-2Q: to be loved is pleasant,
for there is a tpavraaia of possessing good qualities. 1382a21-22: fear is pain f r o m a
tpavraaia of i m m i n e n t evil causing destruction or p a i n . I wonder whether tpavxaaia
in these cases is really equivalent to "having imaginative pictures."
10
De Anima 4 2 8 a l 8 - b l 0 . Bonitz gives passages where opinion and i m a g i n a t i o n
are associated, e.g., Physics 254a29 and Metaphysics 1062b34, b u t these passages
do not imply their equivalence.
126 INTERPRETATIONS
B u t for all this, Aristotle holds that thinking requires the presence
of images. Both the distinction of imagination from thought and the
dependence of thought upon imagination are asserted in the following
passage:
But imagination is not the same thing as assertion and denial; for truth
and falsehood is a combination of things thought. How then will the
simplest thoughts differ from mental pictures ? Surely neither these simple
thoughts nor others are mental pictures, but cannot occur without such
mental pictures. (De Anima 432al0-14)
This situation holds for practical thought as well as for theoretical

thought, and Aristotle tries hard to make clear just what he has in
mind:
So the thinking faculty thinks of Its forms In mental pictures, and just
as what is pursued and avoided is defined (¿giCeiv) in them, so also it is
outside sensation: whenever it is a case of mental pictures, there is move-
ment. For instance in perceiving a beacon a man recognizes that it is
fire; then seeing it moving he knows that it signifies an enemy. But at
other times one calculates by images or thoughts residing in the soul,
as if one saw them, and plans for the future in view of the present; and
when one says in the case of sensation that it is pleasant or unpleasant,
in the realm of thought one avoids or pursues, and so generally in
action. (De Anima 431b2-10. See also 431al4-18)
Imagination in the form of sense exists, as we have said, in other ani-

mals, but deliberative imagination only in those which can reason; for
it is the function of reason to decide whether one shall do this or that,
and one must measure by a single standard; for one pursues the greater
good. So one can make one mental picture out of a number of images;
and the reason why animals are not considered capable of having opinion
is that they have not the type of imagination which arises from inference;
but the possession of the power of reasoning implies the other. (De
Anima 434a5-12)
What these passages make abundantly clear is that the images which
are essential to practical deliberation are like the incidental objects of
sense which Aristotle mentions in another connection. He holds that
there are three types of objects of sense: the proper objects of a single
sense, such as color of sight, and sound of hearing; the objects common
to more than one sense, namely, movement, rest, number, figure, and
magnitude; and the incidental objects of sense, of which "being the
son of Diares" is an example. (De Anima 418a7-25) Allan argues as
INTERPRETATIONS 127
if it were the first type of object which is relevant to the opinion concern-
ing the good. While it is true t h a t without colors there is no perception
of the son of Diares or the moving fire, it is not qua colored t h a t the
image is considered to portend evil, but qua moving fire. W h a t animals
lack is the ability to organize their images by a criterion, not the
ability to see a colored patch as an object.
In the case of the images which are involved in an opinion of the
good, it will not do to equate the strength of the opinion with the vi-
vacity of the image. Nor will it do to represent the conflict which is
involved in akrasia as a competition between images of varying
"strength and vivacity." For in most cases what is most natural is
that there should be only one image, e.g., the image of the cakc, which
is invested with attractiveness through the operation of desire and
is the precondition for prohibition by thought. 1 1 If the issue between
wish and desire were to be analyzed as a matter of the essential prop-
erties of images, the implication would be that even when the victory
goes to wish, the agent acts through imagination. But Aristotle implies
that it is only when the victory goes to desire t h a t the agent acts
through imagination:
Again, because imagination resides within us and corresponds with the
senses, living creatures frequently act in accordance with them, some-
times because they have no mind (vovg), like wild animals, and sometimes
the mind is temporarily clouded over by feeling (naQr/) or disease, or sleep,
as in man. ( D e Anima 429a4-8)
This "clouding over of the mind" is involved in akrasia, and it is
an essential aspect of the loss of strength by flovArjaig, for without
an end or unmoved mover, the appetite itself is inoperative. In this
sense, to analyze the conflict of appetites as the conflicts of ends is
quite correct. But it will not do to represent the clouding over of
the mind as the fading of an image, any more than it will do to repre-
sent the conflict of appetites as the struggle of blind forces. Aristotle
distinguishes between ordinary imagination and deliberative imagina-
tion, just as he distinguishes between desire and wish; and in both
distinctions one member cannot be understood without reference to
opinion concerning the good. If we are to develop an adequate inter-
11
See De Anima 4 2 7 a l l - 1 6 , for the idea of simultaneous but d i s t i n c t uses of
the same "symbol" ( atj/xeiov) by the discriminative faculty (TO xgivov).
128 INTERPRETATIONS
pretation of Aristotle's analysis of akrasia, we shall have t J consider

the s u b j e c t s appropriate to this opinion of the good. This will involve
giving some account of practical reason, deliberation, and practical
wisdom.
Aristotle's Conception of Practical Reasoning
T h e concepts of practical reason, deliberation, and practical wisdom

are among the most difficult of Aristotle's moral philosophy. We
can illustrate this difficulty b y taking as the point of departure f o r
our inquiry into these c o n c e p t s a passage in which he denies that
the àxgaxiig has the virtue of practical wisdom. In the passages which
follow, it should be pointed t h a t R a c k h a m uses the term " p r u d e n c e "
where we use the terms " p r a c t i c a l w i s d o m . "
Again, the same person cannot be at once unrestrained (axoaTrjz) a i d

prudent (qtgóviftog), for it has been shown that Prudence is inseparable
from Moral Virtue. Also, Prudence does not consist only in knowing
what is right, but also in doing it; but the unrestrained man does not do
the right. (Cleverness on the other hand is not incompatible with Unre-
straint—which is w h y i t is sometimes thought that some people are prudent
and yet unrestrained—because Cleverness differs from Prudence in the
manner explained in our first discourse: as being intellectual faculties
they are closely akin, but they differ in t h a t Prudence involves deliberate
choice). Nor indeed does the unrestrained man even know the right
in the sense of one who consciously exercises his knowledge, but only
as a man asleep or drunk can be said to know something. Also, although
he errs willingly (for he knows in a sense both what he is doing and what
end he is aiming at), yet he is not wicked, for his moral choice is sound,
so that he is only half-wicked. 1 1
T h i s passage implies t h a t the d x p a r ^ ; can well be clever b u t t h a t he

c a n n o t be practically wise, b u t it seems also to say t h a t he makes the
right choice and t h a t he c a n n o t be practically wise because he does
n o t make the right choice. F u r t h e r clarification is obviously required.
If we turn t o the passage to which Aristotle must be referring in this
12 N.E. 1152a6-17. There is considerable interpretation in translating yard

/lèv TÒV Xóyov ¿yyv; elvat, iiatpèoeiv 6Ì xaxà ri)v ngoaigeaiv as Rackham does.
A more literal t r a n s l a t i o n would be " l o g i c a l l y t h e y are s i m i l a r , but t h e y differ ac-
cording t o c h o i c e . " T h i s is obscure, b u t does n o t beg t h e q u e s t i o n of w h e t h e r the
m a n who is merely clever m a k e s a c h o i c e or n o t .
INTERPRETATIONS 129
one, we find him taking considerable pains t o clarify this distinction

between cleverness and practical w i s d o m :
Now Tightness in our choice of an end is secured by Virtue; b u t to do
the actions t h a t m u s t in the n a t u r e of things be done in order to a t t a i n
the end we have chosen, is n o t a m a t t e r for Virtue b u t for a different facul-
ty.
We must dwell on this point to m a k e it more clear. There is a certain
faculty called Cleverness, which is t h e c a p a c i t y for doing t h e things afore-
said t h a t conduce to the aim we propose, a n d so a t t a i n i n g t h a t aim. If
the aim is noble, this is a praiseworthy f a c u l t y : if base, it is mere k n a v e r y ;
this is how we come to speak of b o t h p r u d e n t men and knaves as clever.
Now this faculty is not identical w i t h Prudence, b u t Prudence implies it.
B u t t h a t eye of the soul of which we spoke cannot asquire the quality
of Prudence without possessing Virtue. This we have said before, and it
is manifestly true. For deductive inferences a b o u t m a t t e r s of conduct
always have a m a j o r premise of the f o r m "Since the E n d or Supreme Good
is so and so" (whatever it m a y be, since we m a y take it as a n y t h i n g we
like for the sake of the argument); b u t t h e Supreme Good only appears good
to the good m a n : vice perverts t h e mind a n d causes it to hold false views
a b o u t the first principles of conduct. Hence it is clear t h a t we cannot
be p r u d e n t w i t h o u t being good. ( N . E . 1144a20-1144bl)
If we neglect the last portion of this passage, it can be read to the

effect that practical wisdom is none other than praiseworthy clever-
ness, t h a t is, cleverness exercised for the right end. 1 3
This reading would coincide with a popular interpretation of Aristot-
le's conception of practical wisdom. 1 4 According to this interpretation,
practical wisdom has nothing to do with the setting of ends. Ends
are set by appetite, which is n o t an intellectual faculty. When the
ends are good, this is because the appetite is virtuous. Practical wisdom
and hence practical reason are confined to the means by which such
ends can be realized. This interpretation would find the clue to Aris-
totle's conception of practical reason in w h a t is said about deliberation
({IovXevok;), concerning which there is a very clear passage in B o o k iii
of the Nicomachean Ethics:
13
In v i e w of the different emphasis suggested by that last portion, it is worth
pointing out that not long after this passage A r i s t o t l e offers a remark to the same
effect: "if a man of good natural d i s p o s i t i o n acquires Intelligence, then he excels
in conduct, and the disposition which p r e v i o u s l y only resembled Virtue, will now
be Virtue in the true sense." N.E. 1 1 4 4 b l 2 - 1 4 .
11
This interpretation is s o m e t i m e s a t t r i b u t e d t o Walter, but it is an obvious
interpretation and hardly depends on elaborate hypotheses.
130 INTERPRETATIONS
And we deliberate not about ends, but about means. A doctor does not
deliberate whether he is to cure his patient, nor an orator whether he
is to convince his audience, nor a statesman whether he is to secure good
government, nor does anyone else debate about the end of his profes-
sion or calling; they take some end for granted, and consider how and
by what means it can be achieved. If they find that there are several
means of achieving it, they proceed to consider which of these will attain
it most easily and best. If there is only one means by which it can be
accomplished, they ask how it is to be accomplished by that means, and by
what means that means itself can be achieved, until they reach the first
link in the chain of causes, which is the last in the order of discovery.
(N.E. 1112bll-20)
This passage seems to say very clearly that ends are not set by any
process of reasoning, and there are others to the same effect:
Again, we wish rather for ends than for means, but choose the means to
our end; for example, we wish to be healthy, but choose things to make
us healthy. (N.E. l l l l b 2 6 - 2 8 )
This passage refers to the difference between choice, which ensues
upon deliberation, and wish, which is a form of appetite.
Also Prudence as well as Moral Virtue determines the complete perform-
ance of man's proper function: Virtue ensures the Tightness of the end we
aim at, Prudence ensures the Tightness of the means we adopt to gain
that end. (N.E. 1144a6-9. See also 1145a2-6)
Passages which suggest this interpretation are not confined to the
ethical writings. The following comes from the De Anima:
These together, then, mind and appetite, are responsible for movement
in space. But the mind in question is that which makes its calculations
with an end in view, that is the practical mind: it differs from the spec-
ulative mind in that it has an end in view. And every appetite is di-
rected towards an end; for the thing at which appetite aims is the starting
point of the practical mind; the last step of the practical mind is the
beginning of the action. (De Anima 433al3-17)
Obviously, the interpretation of practical reason which seems indi-
cated by these passages will pose difficulties for the understanding
of Aristotle's analysis of akrasia. If we identify the reasoning which
is done in thinking out a practical syllogism with the deliberation
which is mentioned in these passages, then some way will have to be
found to bring the examples of such syllogisms given in that analysis
into line with the concept of means leading to ends. And if we iden-
tify the loss of knowledge which is involved in akrasia as the loss of
INTERPRETATIONS 131
apprehension of an end, we will be puzzled as to why this is treated

as a loss of knowledge a t all, as distinct from a change of desire. And
finally, what sense could be made of the concept of an opinion of the
good if the good is an end which is somehow a projection of virtuous
appetite? Some of these questions will eventually have to be faced,
but before we attempt this, we should be sure that such an interpre-
tation of practical reason is required by other texts as well as these.
The Two Functions of Practical Reason
There has been a recent movement of scholarship away from the

interpretation of practical reason which we have outlined. 16 To use a
distinction made in the De Motu Animalium, this interpretation would
confine practical reasoning to what is possible and exclude it from
what is good. But the premises of action are of both kinds. {De Motu
Animalium 701a23-25) We will call the interpretation which has re-
sulted from this scholarship the double-version theory. According to it,
practical reason has two functions. In addition to the function of dis-
covering and organizing the means to gain an end, it also has a function
in the determination of ends themselves. This is the function of know-
ing general moral rules and applying them to particular cases. In apply-
ing a rule to a particular case, a particular end for a particular act is
specified. We will refer to the first function as the means-end function
and to this additional function as the rule-example function. At the
heart of the argument for the recognition of this second function is
an appreciation of the functional nature of Aristotle's distinction
14
See D . J . Allan, The Philosophy of Aristotle, pp. 168-69, 177-83. See also hi»
"Aristotle's Account" and h i s "The Practical Syllogism," and C.J. de Vogel, "Quel-
ques remarques." De Vogel is p r i m a r i l y concerned for the concept of nQâÇiç, but
her work has the same general bearing as t h a t of Allan. On p. 3 2 2 , she p o i n t s out
the similarity of her results t o the K a n t i a n moral theory. Gauthier and Jolif
L'Éthique I, 28»-29*. Gauthier, La Morale, pp. 25-36, 61-70, 76-80, 82-92, 94-96, 99.
B y 'ar the m o s t thorough contribution t o t h i s movement of scholarship has been
made by A n d o . H i s entire argument c u l m i n a t e s in the assertion that there i s a
distinctively moral type of reasoning, deliberation, and syllogism. See especially
Chapter V, Aristotle's Theory. In the e x p o s i t i o n of this material, I will follow very
largely the somewhat simplified presentation of Allan, since Ando's presentation
makes extensive use of a concept of "mediation" which is unclear to me.
132 INTERPRETATIONS
between reason and appetite. Allan puts this very clearly: "It is not by
their object, but by the performance of different functions in regard to
the same object, t h a t practical reason and Sgeîg differ." 14 Prac-
tical reason can establish which end is right in reference to a rule a t
the same time that appetite is roused by this end and moves the body.
This revision has two kinds of support in addition to its congruence
with Aristotle's general psychology of movement. The first lies in
certain passages which can be used to counterbalance those t h a t are
cited for the older interpretation. The second lies in the clarity t h a t
it introduces into certain other conceptions which Aristotle uses. Of
the passages which are cited, the following three are representative:
Pursuit and avoidance are, to desire, what assertion and denial are t o
thinking. Hence, since we regard moral virtue as a settled disposition
of choice and define choice as deliberative desire, it follows that choice
can only be good where there is both true reasoning and right desire; and
that the object which reason asserts and desire pursues must be the same.
This, then, is practical thinking and practical truth. ( N . E . 1139a21-26.
Allan translation.)
If excellence in deliberation is one of the traits of men of practical wis-

dom, we may regard this excellence as correct perception of that which
conduces to the end, whereof practical wisdom is a true judgment. 1 7
The consideration of pleasure and pain belongs to the political philoso-

pher. For he is the architect of the end, with reference to which we call
this or that thing, without qualification, good or evil. (N.E. 1152bl-2.
Allan translation.)
We can find a first example of the kind of conception which the

double-version theory clarifies in what is said about 6v/*og in Book
vii. One of the reasons why axgaaia dv/xov is said to be less disgraceful
than axqaaia &71Xdie is t h a t "he t h a t fails to restrain his anger is in a
way, controlled by reason (Ao'yo?), but the other is controlled not by
reason but by desire." (N.E. 1149b2-3) Aristotle explains t h a t at a
mere suggestion t h a t something is pleasant, desire rushes off to enjoy
it, whereas a t a suggestion t h a t an insult has been received, anger
flares up "after reasoning as it were that you ought to make war on
16
"Aristotle's Account," p. 123.
17
N.E. 1142b31-33. Allan translation. Allan emphasizes that it is the "end"
(r¿Xoq) w h i c h is the antecedent of "whereof" (otf), and not "that w h i c h conduces t o
the end" (TO av^Kpegov), as m a n y c o m m e n t a t o r s and translators suppose.
INTERPRETATIONS 133
anybody who insults you." ( N . E . 1149a32-1149bl) u He also argues

t h a t desire is crafty, and this craftiness must be the same as clever-
ness. While the means-end function is appropriate to this craftiness
of desire, it can hardly explain the way t h a t anger is controlled by
reason. Reasoning that one ought to make war on anybody who
insults you is an obvious case of the rule-example function.
Another conception which is clarified by the double-version theory
is courage. Aristotle says t h a t true courage is facing fears about de-
struction for the sake of the moral beauty or nobility of facing them.
(N.E. 1115al2-14, 31-34; 1115b4-5, 22-24; 1116al0-12, 28-29; 1116b2-3;
1117a5-9, 15-17; 1117b7-15) He also says that it is acting as the koyoq
requires. (N.E. 1115bl0-20) Could this koyog which is involved in the
courageous act be a statement of the means to some end ? Is it perhaps
an account of the instrumental role of t h a t act in the production of
victory, which itself is instrumental to the promotion of civic happiness ? M
While this is possible, it would require the courageous man to have
an appetite for civic happiness. Aristotle says that the courageous
man is knowingly losing the greatest goods, life and happiness, and
t h a t therefore his deed is extremely painful. Does the moral beauty
for the sake of which he acts consist in the civic happiness which he
wants even though he will not participate in i t ? It is more plausible
to suppose t h a t the Xoyog is simply a rule which states t h a t one ought
to face destructive fears in certain circumstances and t h a t the moral
beauty attaches to the obedience of the rule.
Finally, the double-version theory enables one to make sense of
the distinction which Aristotle draws between production (notrjaig)
and action (nqa^n;) in Book vi of the Nicomachean Ethics:
It (practical wisdom) is. . . not art (texvrj), because doing (ngaitg) and
making (noirjatg) are generically different, since making aims at an
18
N.E. 1149a32-1149bl. It is interesting to note that like Plato, Aristotle seems
to have altered his opinion about anger. In his dialogue Politicus, he was inclined
to a high evaluation; it is said that anger is necessary to courage, that it is the spur
to virtue and the stimulant of the mind, even if it must be tempered and treated
as a soldier and not as a commander. This is very reminiscent of the Republic.
See the passages from Seneca and Cicero in Select Fragments, pp. 67-70. We f i n d
very little glorification of anger in the Sicomachean Ethics.
ls
See the subordination of the arts of war to strategy and strategy in turn to
politics at S'.E. 1094a9-14.
134 INTERPRETATIONS
end distinct from the act of making, whereas in doing the end cannot
be other than the act itself: doing well (evnga£ia) is in itself the e n d . "
The distinction is not prominent in the Nicomachean Ethics, although

it is given pride of place. The opening lines seem to set jzga£ic and
jigoaigsaic apart from T&xvr) an<* f*68odo;. ( N . E . 1094a 1-6) N o r is
Aristotle exactly consistent in his use of the terms, for in one passage
it is said that actions (¡rgdfetc) aim at ends other than themselves. 11
But the doctrine is relatively clear. N o t all actions aim at the pro-
duction of products which are separable from the action itself. In
some action the agent is only aiming at doing well. Further, Aristotle
holds that there is a rational disposition concerned with doing which
is distinct from the rational disposition concerned with making. (N.E.
1140a3-5) I t seems quite natural to equate the former with the rule-
example function of practical reason and the latter with the means-ends
function.
W e can conclude, then, that there is a function of practical wisdom
which is associated with wish and which determines the end through
the application of rules to examples. There is another function of
practical wisdom which may be associated with choice and which
determines the means to reach the ends so established. Practical wis-
dom will include the excellence of rule-example functioning. I t should
be pointed out here that while this distinction is sound as far as it
goes, there remain further difficulties and distinctions to be consid-
M N.E. 1140bl-7. De Vogel's article gives other passages and other senses for
these terms which are also used by Aristotle. A t N.E. 1094al-6, Aristotle refers to
the "exoteric discourses" for the establishment of distinction. De Vogel suggests
onp. 312, "Quelques remarques" that this establishment may be recapitulated at
1197a3-13 of the Magna Moralia. The examples given there are somewhat discon-
certing: Building a house is a case of making and playing the harp is a case of doing.
Ando points out that playing the harp is given as an example of an art at N.E.
1103a32-1103b9. See Aristotle's Theory, pp. 187-89. Ando's entire chapter III
should be consulted, especially a masterly paragraph on p. 188, which shows Aris-
totle's efforts to clarify the concept of practice.
21 N.E. 1112b33. De Vogel ignores this passage. Gauthier sees the means-end
version of practical reason as Aristotle's reaction to the excessive intellectualism
of Plato, a reaction that was not sufficiently thought through, due to Aristotle's
innocence of the concept of the will. As a result, Aristotle commits a maladresse
occasionally, as in this passage. See La Morale, pp. 36-37. Ando relates Aristotle's
difficulties to the lack of a clear distinction between value and fact. See Aristotle's
Theory, p. 189.
INTERPRETATIONS 135
ered, especially the possibility t h a t a strictly practical sense can be

given to the concept of means to an end.
Is Practical Reason Practical ?
Gauthier has farther developed this double-version theory of prac-

tical reason by applying to it the Aristotelian distinction between
formal and efficient causes. He argues t h a t the rule-example version
is equivalent to the formal cause of action through the specification
of the end of the action. This end, however, is effective only if it is
wanted. If it is wanted, practical reason has a further efficient func-
tion in deciding upon means. Gauthier stresses that in this efficient
function, practical reason goes beyond deliberation to an effective
imperative. It does not merely deliberate about means, it decides upon
means and thus initiates action. In this efficient function, practical
reason is more intimately bound up with appetite and hence with moral
virtue than in the formal function of specifying the end. Accordingly,
Gauthier interprets deliberate choice (ngoaigeaig) as the act of an
intellect "impregnated" with appetite. This position is in contrast
with that adopted by others, for instance Allan, who regard ngo-
algeoii; as that form of appetite which follows upon deliberation. 11
We can remark in passing t h a t Aristotle himself saw little difference
between the two. According to him ngoaigeaiq can be called either
thought related to desire (¿QSXTIXOI; VOVQ) or desire related to thought
(5ge£ig diavorixixr)). (N.E. 1139b4-5)
This elaboration on the double-version theory is not convincing.
W h a t Aristotle says in his analysis of akrasia is that it is the particular
premise which originates action, and there is no indication that this
premise is ot a technological nature. 83 Indeed, it is difficult to see
how such a function of reason would be appropriate in the case of
akrasia and eyxgazeia. Aristotle says t h a t the axgaxyg does not lose
his ability to discern the steps that lead to an end, so akrasia could
hardly be diagnosed as the loss of the technological or productive
22
Gauthier, La Morale, pp. 30-31, 82-96, especially 86 and 95. For Allan's po-
sition see "Aristotle's Account," p. 124.
23
N.E. 1141b9-10. Stewart identifies the particular premise as efficient and the
universal premise as final. See Notes II, 20-21.
136 INTERPRETATIONS
function of practical reason. And what steps could be taken in the

case of ¿yxgareta? Presumably the prohibiting syllogism is then com-
plete and the conclusion is the "action" of resisting the temptation.
Are there steps toward this end ? Aristotle does mention the possibility
of taking steps toward the resistance of temptation, but the "steps"
consist in rousing the reasoning faculty—that is, they are not some-
thing in addition to the completion of a rule-example syllogism, b u t are
t h a t completion itself.*4 It is true t h a t Aristotle denies t h a t movement
can occur without appetite, b u t there seems no reason to suppose t h a t
appetite is more intimately involved in the productive function of rea-
son than in the rule-example function. 1 *
Gauthier's interpretation reveals a difficulty t h a t can arise in any
philosophical reflection about the relation of reason to action: the
problem of how reason can be effective. In the case of Aristotle, this
becomes the problem of how reason is related to appetite. One way to
solve this problem is to break down the distinction between reason
and appetite and to a t t e m p t to find in the very conception of practical
reason some kind of development of appetite itself. This way with
the problem would be most tempting once the conception of practical
reason as concerned for means to desired ends is seen as only one ver-
sion. Some account of the relation of reason to appetite should be
found for the rule-example version as well. In his earlier article,
Allan follows the personification of the parts which seems implied in
chapter 13 of Book i of the Nicomachean Ethics, and apparently finds
M
N.E. 1150b22-25. Perhaps there is a d i s t i n c t i o n t o be made between a v o i d i n g
t e m p t a t i o n and resisting t e m p t a t i o n . One m i g h t take steps to avoid t e m p t a t i o n ,
but resisting is "immediate." One m i g h t deliberate as to what steps one m i g h t
take to develop the a b i l i t y to resist, although Aristotle seems to imply that such
s t e p s would s i m p l y c o n s i s t in r e s i s t i n g .
24
These remarks can also stand as a c r i t i c i s m of the p o s i t i o n of A n d o t h a t jrpaftq
m u s t be a c c o m p a n i e d by noirjcw;, since it is impossible that value should realize
itself w i t h o u t b e i n g mediated b y a fact. It is difficult to discuss Ando's position
o n separated subjects, however, since h i s p o s i t i o n is a comprehensive interpretation
of m a n y s u b j e c t s at once. See Aristotle's Theory, p. 2 0 2 . On p. 2 0 3 , he concludes
an elaborate argument b y s a y i n g that "intellect essential to practice and that which
i s essential t o p r o d u c t i o n are n o t proportionate t o each other; an act of importance
m a y frequently be founded upon an i n s t i n c t i v e action w i t h o u t art. Accordingly,
there m a y be a k i n d of a c c o m p a n i m e n t b u t not mediation in the strict sense." W i t h -
out an e x p l a n a t i o n of what t h i s "mediation" is, such remarks remain opaque.
INTERPRETATIONS 137
the relation of reason to appetite not to be a special problem. The

account he gives there is summarized in the following passage:
The order of events is somewhat as follows. From practical reason we
derive the conception of something good (<paivdfievov ayaOov). Until
such a conception is present, desire will have no object. On the other
hand, it is desire which, by its propulsive force, converts judgment into
wish (ftovkrjcns) and knowledge of the good into the actual pursuit of
an end or aim (rcAoc, axonog). One might say, in parody of Kant, that
reason without desire is powerless, while desire without reason is blind.
Reason, then, can issue a command to the appetitive faculty; the words
imxaxxti and xeXevet are repeatedly used in this connection. If this
command is obeyed (but, of course, there may be contrary forces at
work), an actual desire for the good will ensue, and an end will have been
established.*8
In his later article he presents quite a different account, one which

implies that Aristotle is close to the modern meta-ethical position
known as noncognitivism. He compares the analysis of art which
Plato offers in the Phaedrus with Aristotle's account of the practical
syllogism and concludes t h a t while Plato is concerned for the thinking
which leads to action, Aristotle is concerned for the action itself. Thus
the practical syllogism is not a device for discovering or proving what
is to be done by an agent at a time and place, b u t is rather a "psycho-
logical account of action in accordance with principles." Appetite
must be included in the account, since Aristotle does not think t h a t "a
process of inference, a rearrangement of thoughts in our minds, can
summon into existence new motive forces." The efficacy of the prac-
tical inference is due to the appetite which is already implied in the
assent to the major premise. The major premise itself, furthermore,
is not a statement of fact, but a wish or command issued to oneself.
Allan concludes t h a t Aristotle does not say, but leaves it to be under-
stood, t h a t the major premise is a "disposition to act, brought to light
and expressed in words."* 7
This analysis is somewhat confused and hardly consistent with
itself. There seem to be three theses presented: (a) the assent to the
major premise in a practical syllogism in some way implies appetite;
(b) the major premise of a practical syllogism is not a statement of
28
"Aristotle's A c c o u n t , " p. 124.
27
"The Practical S y l l o g i s m , " p. 325, 3 3 2 .
138 INTERPRETATIONS
fact, but an imperative; (c) the major premise of a practical syllogism

is a formulated disposition to act in a certain way. Now, it is a defin-
ing mark of an imperative t h a t it can be obeyed or disobeyed. How
could a formulated disposition be obeyed or disobeyed? And what
would be meant by the statement t h a t appetite is implied in the assent
to a formulated disposition? If we consider the examples of the major
premise of a practical syllogism which are given in connection with
Aristotle's analysis of akrasia, it is hard to see how all of them can
be construed as formulated dispositions. Aristotle gives four such
examples: "Dry food is good for every man"; "All sweet things ought
to be tasted"; "It is forbidden to taste (sweet things)"; "All sweet
things are pleasant." Perhaps we should rule out the first as possibly
being the major premise of a means-end or productive syllogism; and
perhaps we should rule out the last as being too ambiguous in status
to serve as a fair example. It is significant of the remaining two t h a t
while the "principle" of the axoXaoTot; might well be such a formu-
lated disposition, the principle of the axQaxrj; could not. This principle
is activated in the morally weak man, but it is just his difficulty that
it is not a formulated disposition to act. In considering Allan's inter-
pretation we would do well to omit the dispositional thesis and confine
ourselves to the other two: that the major premise is not a statement
of fact, but an imperative, and t h a t the assent to this imperative
implies appetite.
T h a t the major premise of a practical syllogism is an imperative
of some sort is a very popular view among modern philosophers, and
this may have influenced Allan in his interpretation. Taken by itself
this position is enlightening and harmless. The philosophical problem
arises when it is argued that because such a premise is in some way
an imperative, therefore it cannot be a statement of fact. Two things
might be meant by saying t h a t it is not a statement of fact. One is
t h a t it is not a description of some state of affairs in the world. The
other is t h a t it is logically inappropriate to qualify such a premise as
true or false. So far as the latter possibility is concerned, the following
passages seem decisive for Aristotle's position:
We are here speaking of practical thinking, and of the attainment of
truth in regard to action (aXrjdeia ngaxjixt])-, with speculative thought,
which is not concerned with action or production, right and wrong function-
ing consist in the attainment of truth and falsehood respectively. The
attainment of truth is indeed the function of every part of the intellect,
INTERPRETATIONS 139
but that of the practical intelligence is the attainment of truth corres-

ponding (6[ioX6ya>-) to right desire. (N.E. 1139a26-31)
It remains therefore that it [practical wisdom] is a truth-attaining
rational quality, concerned with action in relation to things that are
good and bad for human beings. (N.E. 1140b4-6)
If then the qualities whereby we attain truth, and are never led into
falsehood, whether about things invariable or things variable, are Scientific
Knowledge, Prudence, Wisdom and Intelligence. . . . (N.E. 1141a3-5)
A r i s t o t l e defines p r a c t i c a l w i s d o m a s t h e a b i l i t y t o d e l i b e r a t e well
a b o u t w h a t is c o n d u c i v e t o t h e g o o d life in general, a n d he s a y s t h a t
such wisdom is c o n c e r n e d w i t h a c t i o n . (N.E. 1140a24-1140b30) H e
does n o t r e g a r d t h i s c o n c e r n w i t h a c t i o n as implying t h a t t h e p r o -
n o u n c e m e n t s of p r a c t i c a l w i s d o m a r e n o n c o g n i t i v e in n a t u r e .
T h e assertion t h a t t h e a s s e n t t o t h e m a j o r premise of a p r a c t i c a l
syllogism implies a p p e t i t e is m o r e c o m p l e x , because it is n o t clear
e x a c t l y w h a t is m e a n t b y " a s s e n t " in t h i s case. One m i g h t wish t o
describe t h e o b e d i e n t response of a p p e t i t e t o t h e end which is specified
t h r o u g h t h e c o m p l e t i o n of such a syllogism as " a s s e n t , " b u t A l l a n
a p p a r e n t l y h a s s o m e t h i n g else in m i n d . If t h e d o c t r i n e t h a t t h e m a j o r
premise is a f o r m u l a t e d disposition were a d o p t e d , this a p p e t i t i v e a s s e n t
m i g h t be i d e n t i f i e d as t h e m a t e r i a l f o r t h e premise itself. B u r n e t o f f e r s
a suggestion r e s e m b l i n g t h i s . H e s a y s t h a t practical <5iavota " h a s
f o r its f u n c t i o n t h e c o n v e r s i o n of Sgeîg i n t o a Xoyog or g e n e r a l rule
of c o n d u c t . " 2 8 T h i s , he s a y s , is p r a c t i c a l t r u t h . This c o n v e r s i o n is
t h e u n i v e r s a l i z a t i o n a n d f o r m u l a t i o n of " t h e m a t e r i a l f u r n i s h e d b y
o g e f t g in t h e s a m e w a y as it universalizes a n d f o r m u l a t e s t h e m a t e r i a l
f u r n i s h e d by alodrjois."** B u t once a g a i n , t h e t e x t s seem to leave no
d o u b t t h a t A r i s t o t l e r e g a r d e d t h e m a t e r i a l for t h e d e v e l o p m e n t of
universal principles in a c o g n i t i v e w a y . T h e t e x t s a r e obspure, b u t
t h e i r b e a r i n g on t h i s issue is clear:
Prudence then stands opposite to Intelligence (votf?); for Intelligence

apprehends definitions which cannot be proved by reasoning, while Prudence
deals with the ultimate particular thing, which cannot be apprehended
by Scientific Knowledge (Inurzrmrj), but only by perception ( a l a d r j a i g ) ;
28
The Ethics, p. 255.
29
Ibid., p. 256. It i s curious that on p. 122 of "Aristotle's Account" Allan s t a t e s
that Burnet's p o s i t i o n on the relation of reason t o the end is wrong, w h i l e t h e po-
sition that Allan adopts in "The Practical S y l l o g i s m " is very close t o that of Burnet.
140 INTERPRETATIONS
not the perception of the special senses, but the sort of intuition (atadr7-
a i g ) whereby we perceive that the ultimate figure in mathematics is a
triangle; for there, too, there will be a stop. B u t the term perception
applies in a fuller sense to mathematical intuition than to Prudence;
the practical intuition of the latter belongs to a different species. 30
Also Intelligence ( v o v g ) apprehends the ultimates in both aspects—since

ultimates as well as primary definitions are grasped by Intelligence and
not reached by reasoning: in demonstrations, Intelligence apprehends
the immutable and primary definitions; in practical inferences, it appre-
hends the ultimate and contingent fact, and the minor premise, since
these are the first principles from which the end is inferred, as general
rules are based on particular cases; hence we must have perception of
particulars, and this immediate perception is Intelligence. 3 1
Consequently the unproved assertions and opinions of experienced

and elderly people, or of prudent men, are as much deserving of attention
as those which they support by proof; for experience has given them
an eye for things, and so they see correctly. ( N . E . 1 1 4 3 b l l - 1 4 )
T h e s e passages show Aristotle somewhat a t a loss as to e x a c t l y

how to specify t h e kind of perception involved in practical m a t t e r s ;
b u t t h e y leave small room for doubt t h a t he envisaged some form of
p r a c t i c a l or m o r a l perception. In view of this, and in view of his insis-
t e n c e t h a t p r a c t i c a l wisdom has t r u t h as its aim, albeit a t r u t h which
is involved in practice, we can hardly say t h a t Aristotle is a non-
cognitivist. If Allan means to imply t h a t the assent to t h e m a j o r
premise of a p r a c t i c a l syllogism consists solely in a form of a p p e t i t e ,
he is wrong. T h e r e is room in Aristotle's doctrine for an intellectual
a s s e n t to such principles, based on moral perception. B u t it is not
quite clear w h a t would be m e a n t by assent in Aristotle's case. If assent
is t o be identified with assertion, Aristotle distinguishes between this
30 N.E. 1142a25-30. The final sentence in this passage is obscure. The text is
aXX' avrrj /¿aXXov aiodrjOis r j <pgovrjaig, ¿xeivrjg 6' aXXo eldo;. He offers as an
alternative translation, " B u t the intuition of the ultimate particular in problems
of conduct approximates more to sensation than to prudcnce, though it is a different
species from the perception of the separate senses."
31 N.E. 1 1 4 3 a 3 5 - l l 4 3 b 5 . It is surprising to have practical wisdom dissociated
from voic in the first of these passages because practical wisdom is some sort of
aToOrjrns, and then to have what is apparently this very aloHtjtiiz identified with
vovg in the second passage. In the first, Aristotle is concerned for the difference
between universal and particular, and in the second, for the difference between
demonstration and intuition.
INTERPRETATIONS 141
and the actual pursuit of the object, and assigns assertion t o intellect
and pursuit to appetite. ( N . E . 1139a21-22) If i t is to be identified
with conviction, he distinguishes between the conviction a p p r o p r i a t e
to u n s u b s t a n t i a t e d opinion and t h a t appropriate t o knowledge. (N.E.
1146b24-31; 1151bl2-16) The former is responsive to a p p e t i t e , whereas
t h e latter is responsive to argument.
None of these ways of breaking down t h e distinction between prac-
tical reason and appetite is t r u e to Aristotle's a c t u a l pronouncements.
A last t e x t should be considered here, for it shows Aristotle main-
taining a distinction of being or essence between assertion and p u r -
suit at the same time t h a t he recognizes the peculiar intimacy of per-
ception, pleasure, and pursuit:
Sensation, then, is like mere assertion and mere thinking; when sensa-
tion asserts or denies that something is pleasant or unpleasant, it pursues
or avoids it. In fact to feel pleasure or pain is to adopt an attitude with
the sensitive mean towards good and evil as such. This is what avoidance
or pursuit, when active, really means, and the instincts to pursue or
avoid are not really different from each other, or from the sensitive
faculty, though their actual essence is different. (De Anima 431a8-14)
This difference of essence or being is a difference of function, and t h e

passage indicates t h a t one answer to the question " H o w is reason
p r a c t i c a l ? " is simply, " T h a t is t h e function of practical reason."
Aristotle assumes t h a t men sometimes act out of choice; and he e x a m -
ines the kind of thinking which goes into deciding w h a t to do, which
includes the kind of thinking which goes into deciding which of the
various possible courses of action one ought to u n d e r t a k e . Reason
is practical in t h a t the end which is the unmoved m o v e r of h u m a n
appetites can be t h o u g h t . Man is not, as animals are, confined to
t h e senses for the apprehension of ends. If one should ask how reason
can be practical a f t e r understanding this outline of a psychology of
movement, Aristotle's answer is to be found in t h e somewhat obscure
unity he asserts t h a t underlies t h e functional differentiation of appre-
hension and p u r s u i t ; and this answer is to be supplemented by t h e
physiological account given in the De Motu Animalium. For the
rest, the question as to how reason can be practical is to be answered
by pointing out the process of moral education, by which a p p e t i t e is
made readily responsive to reason. I do not think t h a t Aristotle intend-
ed that we should understand appetite to be trained in such a way
142 INTERPRETATIONS
that an external agreement between what is wanted and what is thought

to be good is achieved, as though appetite and reason happened to
hit upon the same objects in a remarkably consistent pattern. He
seems rather to have intended that there should be some more direct
activation of appetite by reason, so that one should want to do what
one thinks is good. This seems to be what is implied by his conception
of povkrjois. Whether this account is to be applied to the case of the
vicious man is a difficult question which we will take up shortly. The
relevance of all this to Aristotle's analysis of akrasia is that practical
thought and perception for Aristotle are really thought and percep-
tion, and not disguised appetites. The failure of knowledge which is
involved in akrasia is a real failure of knowledge.
We were led into this question of the practicality of practical reason
by the discovery that practical reason has a rule-example function
as well as a means-end function. While the latter function appears
to have been accepted as practical in some obvious way, the former
has either seemed less obviously practical or too narrowly practical.
Gauthier identified it as a formal type of reasoning, as distinct from
the efficient means-end type; and Allan identified it as an imperative
formulation of a disposition to act. We have concluded that there is
no reason to suppose that Aristotle distinguished between the two
types of reasoning as formal and efficient, although he may have
distinguished between universal and particular premises in this way.
And we have concluded that insofar as Allan's thesis is to be taken
as implying that Aristotle is a noncognitivist or as implying a break-
down in the functional distinction between appetite and intellect, it is
wrong.
Perhaps a word should be said about the problem which underlies
these efforts. Allan expresses it well when he claims that Aristotle
does not think that "a process of inference, a rearrangement of thoughts
in our minds, can summon into existence new motive forces." If one
abstracts from the total organic and human situation, how thoughts
can generate forces can come to be an impossible problem. How
feelings can generate forces or how sense perception can guide forces
can be equally impossible problems. The problem as a general type of
philosophical problem is generated by what we may call an abstractive
method, as distinguished from a functional method. It is akin to the
problem of how form and matter could possibly be unified, which
INTERPRETATIONS 143
Aristotle resolves by explaining the former as the actuality of the

potentialities of the latter. This involves seeing both form and matter
in the wider context of development. If we see practical reason in the
wider context of human life, and if we accept as obvious facts about
human life the making of choices and acting for ends, the philosophical
problem about the practicality of practical reason ought to disappear.
What is meant by a functional method is that, within such a wider
context, Aristotle distinguishes the function of discriminating ends,
the function of wanting ends, and the bodily function of actual
movement toward the end. If there is anything obscure in this division,
it is the concept of appetite, rather than the concept of practical
reason.*4
All this is not to say that there are no problems involved in the prac-
ticality of reason, even for Aristotle. It is only to say that within the
framework of Aristotle's philosophy it is a mistake to raise problems
based on a method which is foreign to Aristotle and then to try to
resolve them by confusing functions which Aristotle tries very hard
to distinguish. There are Aristotelian problems involved in the practi-
cality of reason, but they arise only after the functional discriminations
and interrelations we have outlined are accepted. For the most part,
they concern the bodily mechanisms in their relation to appetite, and
Aristotle makes a considerable effort to resolve them in the De Motu
Animalium. We will not inquire into these problems here, for even in
that treatise he analyzes the failure of knowledge to issue in action
as the suppression of the minor premise of a practical syllogism. (De
Motu Animalium 701a7-701bl)
Perhaps it is not quite just to Gauthier to assume that his interpre-
tation of practical reason is based totally on the failure to bear in mind
the functional method of Aristotle. This may explain the assertion
that appetite enters into the very texture of the means-end function,
but in his assertion, it is the means-end function which is efficient, he
is basing himself on the Aristotelian doctrine that deliberate choice
involves deliberation and that deliberation is about the means for
ends. If we hold the position that the rule-example function of practi-
cal reason is likewise efficient, we must take some account of this
32
See Randall's Aristotle, e s p e c i a l l y c h a p t e r s IV and X I , for a fuller d e v e l o p m e n t
of the notion of a "functional m e t h o d " in A r i s t o t l e ' s t h o u g h t .
144 INTERPRETATIONS
doctrine. W e will now turn to this problem and to the general problem
of practical means, in the strict sense of "practical."
Practical Means
In the search for an adequate interpretation of Aristotle's concep-

tion of practical reason, which we are required to make in order to
reach an adequate interpretation of his analysis of akrasia, it will hardly
do to ignore those passages which, on first reading, appear to tell
against the double-version theory. We began our investigation of
practical reason by citing certain passages which seemed to indicate
t h a t practical wisdom is confined to means, and that moral virtue
is concerned for ends. T h e most explicit of those passages is the follow-
ing:
Also Prudence as well as Moral Virtue determines the complete perform-
ance of man's proper function: Virtue ensures the Tightness of the
end we aim at, Prudence ensures the Tightness of the means we adopt
to gain that end. 83
This passage is intoduced by an i n and is sandwiched into a lengthy

and complex argument which can be summarized thus: Are the intel-
lectual virtues, including practical wisdom, of any use in life, seeing
that the virtues are qualities of character and that mere knowledge
about the good will not make a man b e t t e r ? The first step in answering
this question is t h a t practical wisdom ensures the Tightness of the
means adopted to gain the ends whose. Tightness is insured by virtue.
Aristotle then says that we must go deeper into the question and draws
the distinction between acting from choice for the sake of the act
itself and doing the right thing from some other state of mind, unwil-
lingly or in ignorance or for some ulterior object. He then says again
that Tightness in the choice of end is secured by virtue but that to do
the actions to attain the end is a matter for a different faculty. He is
43
N.E. 1144a6-9. A l l a n c o m m e n t s t h a t " r i g h t , " in t h i s p a s s a g e , is s y n o n y m o u s
with " s o u n d " or "upright" and "does n o t c o n n o t e r e f l e c t i o n . " See "Aristotle's
A c c o u n t , " p. 127. H e t r a n s l a t e s t h e p a s s a g e t h u s : "Moreover, t h e f u n c t i o n of m a n
i s j o i n t l y a c h i e v e d b y tpgovT/oa; a n d m o r a l v i r t u e ; for v i r t u e m a k e s t h e a i m r i g h t ,
while (pQov-qnii insures t h e c o r r e c t m e a n s " Does " c o r r e c t " c o n n o t e reflection?
T h e r e is o n l y one word for b o t h " r i g h t " a n d " c o r r e c t " in t h e t e x t , n a m e l y , 6Q06V :
rj ftiv YOG aQerr] rdv axondv 7ioiei ogddv, FJ TPQDVQOIZ xA NGOG TOVXOV.
INTERPRETATIONS 145
aware of some obscurity here, for he says that the subject must be
clarified. It is at this point that he makes the distinction between
cleverness and practical wisdom and says that practical wisdom requires
cleverness, and that a man cannot be practically wise without being
good. This leads him to an examination of virtue. He distinguishes
between natural virtue, which consists of moral qualities possessed
from birth, and virtue in the true sense. True virtue cannot exist
without practical wisdom. He then reviews the Socratic doctrine that
the virtues are forms of practical wisdom and concludes that virtue
is not merely a disposition conforming to right principle (yard rov
ogdov X6yov), but one cooperating with right principle {fxexa rov
ogdov koyov). This right principle is practical wisdom. His triumphant
conclusion to the entire argument is that it is not possible to be good
in the true sense without practical wisdom, nor to possess practical
wisdom without moral virtue. ( N . E . 1 1 4 3 b l 8 - 1 1 4 5 a l l )
The means-end interpretation of practical wisdom emphasizes the
point, from this argument, that moral virtue makes the difference
between cleverness and practical wisdom, while the double-version
interpretation emphasizes the point that practical wisdom makes
the difference between natural virtue and true moral virtue. To under-
stand Aristotle, it is necessary to integrate the two points, and this
requires seeing how practical wisdom can apply rules to examples
and in that very act be concerned for means to ends. An interpretation
such as this also required by what is said about the axgar^s in Book vii.
He is said to act against his ngoaigeaiQ. ITgoaigeaig, we have seen,
involves deliberation about means to an end. B u t the deliberation
against which the axQarrji; acts certainly appears to be a case of applying
a rule to an example, and we have argued that there is no room in
such a case for deliberation regarding steps leading to the end of resist-
ing temptation.
What stands in the way of the development of such an interpretation
ol practical reason is the statement that practical wisdom requires
cleverness. It is assumed that since cleverness is concerned for means
to ends (t<z ngoQ rov axonov), cleverness must be identical with art, or
productive reason. 34 B u t Aristotle surely holds that the thought which
34 So Ando seems to assume on p. 2 7 4 , Aristotle's Theory. B u t he also argues

that cleverness "as the moment of prudence" is changed into evfiovXia, which is
the judgment or inference about the value of c o n d u c t . See pp. 2 7 2 - 7 3 . Again,
146 INTERPRETATIONS
is involved in Ttgagig is concerned for the realization of an end as much

as the thought which is involved in jioirjou;. This is clearly stated in a
passage which subordinates productive reasoning to strictly practical
reason and explains the teleological character of the former by reference
to the teleological character of the latter:
Intellect ( d i a v o i a ) itself, however, moves nothing, but only the intellect
which aims at an end ( i v e x a TQV) and is practical (ngaxTixi]); for this
rules the productive (noirjTixii) intellect as well, since every one who
makes makes for an end, and that which is made (TO noir\x6v) is not
an end in the unqualified sense (but only an end in a particular relation,
and the end of a particular operation)—only that which is done ( T O
7iQaxrov)is that; for good action (evnga£ta) is an end, and desire (oge$ig)
aims at this."
If strictly practical reasoning is teleological, perhaps there is room
for a strictly practical version of the conception of means to an end ;
and if t h a t is so, perhaps a distinctively practical version of cleverness
is called for, as well.
In order to discern the sense in which strictly practical reasoning
might be teleological, let us examine the concept of evnga^ta, since
t h a t is said to be the practical end in the passage cited above. Does
Aristotle mean t h a t the end in, let us say, refraining from tasting a
sweet or holding one's ground in a battle is to refrain well or to hold
one's ground well? Or is it t h a t refraining and holding one's ground
are already acting well? Surely the latter is the case, and if so, the
relation between evngaîa and performing a good action is not t h a t
of manner to action, but is some other relation. Evngaîa must be the
same as t h a t evdaiftovia, which is asserted to be the final end of man,
in chapter 7 of Book i of the Nicomachean Ethics. Evdaifjtovia is to be
defined by ascertaining the function ( e g y o v ) of man. This function
is the activity of the soul in accordance with reason ( x a r a Xoyov).
(N.E. 1097a 15-1098a 17, especially 1098a7) This formula is elaborated as
Ando's peculiar terminology serves h i m ill. W h a t is a " m o m e n t ? " H e explains

o n p. 2 7 2 : " W h e n c l e v e r n e s s s u b s e r v e s e t h i c a l v i r t u e , it is no longer n a t u r a l s a g a -
ciousness, but h a s altered its quality. S u c h is w h a t is r e a l l y m e a n t b y s a y i n g t h a t
it is ' a m o m e n t . " ' T h e c h a n g e f r o m p r o d u c t i v e t o p r a c t i c a l r e a s o n i n g is q u i t e a
change. W h y n o t s a y t h a t t h e r e i s p r a c t i c a l c l e v e r n e s s as well a s p r o d u c t i v e c l e v -
erness?
35
N.E. 1139a35-1139b4. Ross translation. Rackham takes TO noirjTov to be
t h e a c t of m a k i n g , w h i c h i s i n d e f e n s i b l e a n d a l t e r s t h e s e n s e of t h e p a s s a g e .
INTERPRETATIONS 147
ipvxTjs evegyeia xal ngaêii [leza. koyov: "the activity of the soul
and actions in cooperation with reason."** What is the logical character
of this final end for man ? It seems to be a generalized end, of the kind
sometimes referred to as a determinable. We should take some care
with what we mean here. It might be claimed that the concept of a
determinable is Aristotle's concept of a genus, which is "determined"
or "narrowed" by the application of differentiae to the subordinate
species. There does seem to be this feature about Aristotle's concept
of the mean, for he says that the mean is to feel pleasure and pain at
the right times, towards the right objects, toward the right people, and
in the right way.37 But perhaps these are the parameters or "dimen-
sions" of the mean, rather than its species. Aristotle, however, seems
to envisage a relation of determinability as holding between these species
and individual instances, for he is careful to say, with respect to the
last one, that of the "right way," that the mean is relative to the partic-
ular person. ( N . E . 1106a26-1106b7) The concept of the mean taken
by itself is indeterminate with respect to its species or dimension and
is also indeterminate with respect to specific situations. I suggest that,
since the concept of the mean is involved in the concepts of evdai-
fiovia and evngaîa, these concepts also are determinates and require
specific and individual interpretations for various particular situations.
This understanding of these concepts should lead us to pay some at-
tention to the concept of Xoyog, since evdaifiovia includes actions
M
N.E. 1098al3-14. The commentary on these passages is v o l u m i n o u s . One
question is whether Aristotle has c o n t e m p l a t i v e reason in m i n d or not. Another
is whether fiera Xdyov i s t o be taken as corrective of xara \6yov as it is at 1144b
See Stewart, Notes I, 100-1;
25-30. Burnet, The Ethics, pp. 36-37; Dirlmeier,
Nikomachische Ethik, pp. 278-79. I suppose that ngdêtg here refers back t o 1098a
3-4 and that A r i s t o t l e has in mind the sense in w h i c h that w h i c h is n o t i n itself
originative of Adyos can still have Xoyog, in the sense of o b e y i n g i t , ¿nd further,
that obedience implies t h a t Aoyos enters into the i n t e n t i o n w i t h w h i c h the act i s done.
37
N.E. 1106b21-23. T h i s passage is r e m i n i s c e n t of an earlier one at 1096al9-29,
at which it is argued a g a i n s t the P l a t o n i s t s t h a t the term "good" i s predicated in
all the categories, and therefore it cannot be a "common universal and one" (xoivdv
Tt xadoAov xai ev). A t 1096b26-30, A r i s t o t l e raises the q u e s t i o n as t o the sense in
which different t h i n g s are called "good," a s k i n g whether t h i s i s due t o chance or
derivation from a single good, or contribution t o a single good, or b y analogous rela-
tions. He d i s m i s s e s the question as inappropriate to ethics. Dr. Fred Sommers has
suggested to me that t h e d e t e r m i n a b i l i t y of evSai/iovia can be related t o t h i s cate-
gory-generality of the t e r m "good."
148 INTERPRETATIONS
in cooperation with Aoyoc; and it is Aoyo? which determines the mean.

(N.E. 1106b36-1107a2) The term koyog is notoriously difficult fo trans-
late, and we have taken it on some occasions to be equivalent to "reason,"
on others to "principle," andonstillothersto"rule." "Reason" and "prin-
ciple" may carry connotations of indeterminacy in English, but "rule"
carries the connotation of determinacy. The burden of our argument
has been that we should not think of Aristotle's man of practical wisdom
as being equipped with a code of highly determinate rules which require
only "factual" information for unambiguous application. We should
think of him rather as possessing the power of moral perception, the
ability to "size up" a concrete, particular situation and to "see" what
will count as fulfilling the generalized end of evnqaîa or evdai/xovla.
The particular actions themselves are the means to the generalized

end, then. Joachim has suggested that we call this kind of means
constituent means, as distinct from the extrinsic means involved in
production. 38 We should remember, however, that we are concerned for
actions rather than things, and that constituent means may be signifi-
cantly different for actions. The wood which is used in building a house
is a constituent means of the house, but the hammering of the nail is
not. Perhaps, since the term "constituent means" is apt to suggest that
the action is somehow a part of the end, in the way that wood is a
part of a house, and since the concept of a part is not very enlightening
as applied to the relation of a particular realization to its general end,
some other terminology ought to be found. Miss Anscombe has devel-
oped an interesting suggestion which is relevant to this relation. She
makes the mark of practical reasoning to be that the end is at a "dis-
tance" from the immediate action. She specifies three types of "distance":
spatial, temporal, and a third type which is best conveyed by example.
Her own example is the relation of "lying on a bed" to "taking a rest,"
in the case in which someone is lying on the bed in order to take a
rest. She calls "taking a rest" a "wider" description of the action than
"lying on a bed," and suggests that acts done to fulfill moral laws will
generally be related to positive precepts in this way. 39 Perhaps Aris-
totle's own example of plucking the strings and playing the harp would
38
Joachim, Commentary, p. 102. See N.E. 1 1 4 0 b l 6 - 1 7 : "The first principles of
a c t i o n are the end to which our acts are m e a n s ; . . . "
38
Intention, p. 78. See also p. 46.
INTERPRETATIONS 149
do just as well. What we have, in any case, is a strictly practical con-

ception of means to an end, in addition to the conception of extrinsic
means to an end.
Akrasia and Practical Wisdom
We said earlier that the interpretation of Aristotle's analysis of akra-

sia would depend on the interpretation of his doctine concerning practi-
cal wisdom. We have now concluded that practical wisdom is at
once concerned for the application of rules to examples and the discov-
ery of means to ends. In the case of nqa^n;, these means are constituent
means, in the special sense that they are the actions which realize and
specify the general end of rational action. Practical wisdom specifies
the end of the particular action to which wish responds, so that one
can say that the end for the action is a means to the wider end. What
is especially important in this interpretation is the implication that
the operation of practical wisdom requires an apprehension of the moral
significance of particular situations, a moral perception. This provides
us with the decisive element in the interpretation of Aristotle's analysis
of akrasia.
We can now see why And»» would interpret the failure of knowl-
edge involved in akrasia as "the defect of intuitive reason about the
moral value of an individual act." 4 0 It seems preposterous that what
the axgatiis loses as a result of the activity of desire in his understand-
ing of such a premise as "This is sweet." According to the argument
which we have given above, there is no alternative but to suppose
that the premise which is suppressed must have the form "this is an
example of the rule." The practical syllogism of the axgarrfc would
then read: "Do not eat an excessive number of sweets. That will
amount to an excessive number of sweets. Therefore, do not eat t h a t . "
We should compare this syllogism with the one we conjectured to be
required by the text when discussing this question previously: "All tast-
ing of sweets is forbidden. This is sweet. Therefore, do not eat t h a t . "
The movement of thought in the first syllogism is twofold. There is the
identification of a particular as an instance of a universal, but the
universal itself is relatively indeterminate, and the particular premise
40 Aristotle's Theory, p. 306.

150 INTERPRETATIONS
renders it determinate. In the second syllogism, the term "sweet" is

not indeterminate in this way, and the minor premise merely identifies
an instance of it.
What is lost in akrasia is the understanding of a premise which
expresses a moral perception. This much is clear. But what of the
reasoning which remains? And how are we to understand the activity
of desire which results in the loss of the suppressed premise? The two
questions are related, for if we adhere to the doctrine that the conflict
of appetites involves a conflict of apprehensions, we can hardly leave
the activity of desire to be understood as some kind of physiological
paralysis. That activity must have some cognitive relevance and
some relation to the reasoning which is involved in the morally weak
action itself.
The Sophistry of Desire
In the De Anima there is a difficult and controversial passage con-

cerning akrasia which shows that Aristotle kept both appetitive and
cognitive factors in mind when thinking about human action. Since it
is obviously written with this need for full treatment in mind, what it
has to say about the nature of the appetitive factors involved in akrasia
may tell us something about the cognitive factors as well, and thus may
clarify the nature of the morally weak man's action. However, the
passage is susceptible of two quite different translations, each of which
would lead to a distinct interpretation of that action. The two trans-
lations are as follows:
In fact it, (opef i£) sometimes conquers and moves the will (/?ovXr}ou;).
But when one appetence controls another, as one celestial sphere controls
another, is the occasion when incontinence (axQaaia) occurs. But in na-
ture the upper sphere always asserts the larger measure of control, so
that there are three movements combined in one. (De Anima 434al2-15.
Hett translation.)
Sometimes it overpowers wish and sets it in movement: at times wish
acts thus upon appetite, like one sphere imparting its movement to
another, or appetite acts thus upon appetite, i.e. in the condition of mor-
al weakness (though by nature the higher faculty is always more author-
itative and gives rise to movement). Thus three modes of movement
are possible. 41
41
De Anima 4 3 4 a l 2 - 1 5 . S m i t h translation. In lines 13-14 Hett adopts the reading
i} ¿tgefti, whereas S m i t h a d o p t s an e m e n d a t i o n , g i v i n g 17 f)
INTERPRETATIONS 151
In the rest of the passage Aristotle remarks that the faculty of knowl-
edge does not move, but remains still; and that it is the particular
opinion which produces movement, not the universal opinion. The
context shows that what is meant by appetite here is nondeliberative
appetite, which must be equivalent to what we have been calling
desire.
If we adopt the first translation, we would have to assume that in the
case of akrasia desire activates wish. Since wish is that form of appetite
which is responsive to an opinion of the good, this would imply that
the axgaTrjg must act under the influence of an opinion of the good,
although an opinion which is related in some way to desire rather than
to reason. If we adopt the second translation, we would have to assume
that there is some condition in which desire activates wish, but not
that this condition is akrasia. The most obvious candidate for this
condition is axoXaoia.
There are several passages which show that Aristotle paid attention
to the doctrine of the Protagoras: that "what is momentarily pleasant
seems to be absolutely pleasant and absolutely good, because desire
cannot look to the future." 44 But it is not so clear just how he construed
that lesson. He distinguishes between the good and the apparent good,
and it is the latter which is involved when a momentary pleasure ap-
pears to be absolutely good. He implies that this apparent good is
presented by imagination rather than by reasoning. (De Anima 433a26-
29) The question is whether Aristotle adopts the view that even when
men are moved by the desire for immediate pleasure they are to be
regarded as making a judgment, albeit a mistaken one, about what is
good, or whether they are not to be regarded as making such a judg-
ment at all. In the Protagoras, Plato writes as if such people miscalcu-
late, whereas Aristotle writes as if they do not calculate at all. But
if they do not calculate at all, what is the difference between saying
42
De Anima 434b8-10. See also N.E. 1149a34-1149bl: "Desire on the other hand,
at a mere hint from the reason or the senses that a thing is pleasant, rushes off to
enjoy it." At Rhetoric 1372b9-15, it is said that the morally weak iake their plea-
sure at the moment and the pain later, while the morally strong take the momentary
pain and let the longer-lasting pleasure come later. The thought is succinctly put
at De Anima 433b7-8: "For the mind advises us to resist w i t h a view to the future,
while desire only looks to the present."
152 INTERPRETATIONS
that they are moved by pleasure and saying that they are moved by
pleasure which appears to be the absolute good?
To carry the inquiry forward, we will have to investigate the closely
related question as to whether Aristotle conceives of the axokaoros as
having moral principles, albeit mistaken and vicious principles. The
view that Aristotle does attribute such principles to the incorrigible
man is relatively common, and has been made the basis for a recent
critique of Aristotle's moral philosophy. 43 The justification for this
** On p. 211, Commentary, Joachim refers to the "entirely false ultimate principle

of conduct" which the incorrigible man has. This is equivalent to "a totally per-
verted sense of what is worth having in life, an established wrong a t t i t u d e as to
t h e values of things." Robinson, "L'acrasie," pp. 277-80, presents an elaborate
critique of Aristotle's treatment of axoXaala which is based on the assumption that
the dx6Aa<rtos has a moral principle. He points out that the principle could hardly
be "I ought to pursue excessive pleasures" since that would be self-condemnatory
and thus would be appropriate rather in the case of akrasia. The principle is rather
"I ought to pursue current pleasures." Since the incorrigible man does not find
this principle to be bad, it must be Aristotle who does so. Robinson asks why it is
a bad principle and answers t h a t he cannot see that it is such an obviously bad
principle, since one may well have a duty to pursue pleasure against puritanism.
He concludes t h a t Aristotle had scant conception of moral relativity and of the
need for rational discussion of moral principles. Because of moral relativity we
should confess our principles and discuss them, in the hope that we can purify them
and approach the great end of alleviating human misery.
While there may be some point to challenging Aristotle as a moralist, this critiq'ue
hardly does justice to his position. If what is meant by "moral relativity" is the
doctrine that various kinds of men hold various principles, Aristotle obviously has
a full-blooded concepton of moral relativity. Chapter 5 of Book i of the Nicomachean
Ethics, for instance, mentions the "more or less reasoned conceptions of the Good
or Happiness that prevail." (1095M4-16) These are pleasure, honor, and contempla-
tion. Chapter 7 would seem to contain just such a "rational discussion" as Robin-
son calls for, together with a realization that this kind of moral relativity can only
be surmounted by some theory of human nature. Robinson apparently does not
think t h a t conceptions of human misery are as relative as conceptions of the
Good. Aristotle, so far as I know, was the first to suggest that one might have some-
t h i n g like a duty t o pursue pleasures against puritanism. See what he says at N.E.
1107b6-8, about "insensibility." It should be pointed out that a man who pursues
pleasure against puritanism is not pursuing pleasure for its own sake, and thus
would not be an axdXaorot;. Aristotle does say at N.E. 1151al7-19, that it is not
Aoyoc, but nature and habit t h a t teach the "first principles" (dpâi)- From this
Robinson concludes that there can be no rational discussion of principles. However,
the passage does go on to speak of "training in right opinion." There can be no
rational discussion with the vicious man who has lost all sense of principle. Robin-
INTERPRETATIONS 153
view is not only Aristotle's general doctrine that if virtue is voluntary,

vice must be equally voluntary, but also certain passages which go
beyond this view and state that vice is deliberate:
The profligate (6 dxdXaarog) yields to his appetites from choice, con-
sidering that he ought (delv) always to pursue the pleasure that offers,
whereas the man of defective self-restraint (o dxpar^g) does not think so,
but pursues it all the same. (N.E. 1146b22-24)
That Unrestraint is not strictly a vice (though it is perhaps a vice in
a sense), is clear; for Unrestraint acts against deliberate choice (naga
ngoaigeaiv), Vice in accordance with it (xara nqoalgeaiv) (N.E. 1151a5-7)
Again, the unrestrained man is so constituted as to pursue bodily plea-
sures that are excessive and contrary to right principle without any be-
lief that he ought to do so, whereas the profligate, because he is so con-
stituted as to pursue them, is convinced that he ought to pursue them.44
For deductive inferences about matters of conduct always have a ma-
jor premise of the form "Since the End or Supreme Good is so and so"
(whatever it may be, since we may take it as anything we like for the
sake of the argument); but the Supreme Good only appears good to the
good man: vice perverts the mind and causes it to hold false views about
the first principles of conduct. (N.E. 1144a31-36)
The obvious way to interpret these passages is to say that the vicious
man completes a practical syllogism, the major premise of which states
that one ought always to pursue the present pleasure and constitutes
an opinion as to what is good.
son is not taking "principle" in the same sense as Aristotle. For Robinson a "prin-
ciple" is not a "first principle," but merely an opinion as to what is good. H i s re-
marks about purifying principles reveal that his "first principle" Is: "Alleviate human
misery." Aristotle's first principle is somewhat different but presumably he would
permit discussion of subordinate opinions with a view of "purifying" them in the
light of such a first principle. What underlies the remarks that Robinson mentions
is Aristotle's view that discussion cannot be expected to be effective in conduct
without a parallel alteration of appetite and perception.
For a modern adaptation of the concept of wicked principles which is in part
inspired by Aristotle see Nowell-Smith, Ethics, pp. 265-67.
44
N.E. 1151all-14. Rackham's "ought" is not justified by a delv in the Greek.
This passage continues: "Therefore the former can easily be persuaded to change,
but the latter cannot." This seems to conflict with Aristotle's emphatic denial that
degree of conviction has anything to do with akrasia, at 1145b36-1146a4, and 1146a
35-1146b5. At 1151a25, it is said that t h e a g x v ' s preserved in the dxQarrji. "Persua-
sion" here must have something to do with the effect that an alteration in appetite
would have on the moral perception of the axgaT^g.
154 INTERPRETATIONS
B u t t h o u g h this view establishes a certain f o r m a l s y m m e t r y in t h e

accounts of t h e virtuous and vicious m a n , and t h o u g h it seems t o be
implied by the doctrine t h a t vice is deliberate, t h e r e are difficulties
w i t h it. In the first place, other passages seem to tell against it:
The first principles of action are the end to which our acts are means;
b u t a man corrupted by a love of pleasure or fear of pain, entirely fails
to discern any first principle, and cannot see t h a t he ought to choose and
do everything as a means to this end, and for its sake; for vice tends to
destroy the sense of principle. 46
For virtue preserves the fundamental principle, vice destroys it, and
the first principle or starting-point in m a t t e r s of conduct is the end pro-
posed, which corresponds to the hypotheses of mathematics; hence no
more in ethics t h a n in mathematics are first principles imparted by proc-
ess of reasoning, but by virtue, whether natural or acquired by training
in right opinion as to the first principle. The man of principle therefore
is temperate, the man who has lost all principle, profligate. ( N . E. 1151al4-20)
These passages suggest t h a t t h e action of t h e vicious m a n is n o t under-
t a k e n for the sake of a n y t h i n g at all, t h a t is, t h a t t h e action of the
vicious m a n has no standing as a m e a n s to a n y end, not even such an
i m m a n e n t end as evngaîa.
On this ground Stewart objects t h a t t h e v e r y notion of nQoatgeatg
is travestied in a t t r i b u t i n g it to t h e vicious m a n , a n d Ando d o u b t s
w h e t h e r t h e vicious m a n is to be credited w i t h a strictly practical syl-
logism a t all. 4 * It is to be noted t h a t t h e m a j o r premise of t h e vicious
m a n ' s syllogism is "One ought always t o pursue t h e present pleasure,"
a n d t h a t pursuit of t h e present pleasure is n o t the same as the maximiz-
ation of pleasure. In the latter case, one might well choose the pres-
e n t pleasure for the sake of a wider end to which the action served
45
N.E. 1140bl6-20. R a c k h a m a l s o p r o p o s e s t h e f o l l o w i n g for the s e c o n d clause:
"to one corrupted b y pleasure or p a i n t h i s e n d d o e s n o t s e e m to be a f i r s t p r i n c i p l e
a t all." T h i s t r a n s l a t i o n w o u l d range the p a s s a g e w i t h t h o s e t e l l i n g for t h e proposed
i n t e r p r e t a t i o n rather t h a n a g a i n s t i t .
44
S t e w a r t , Noles II, 173-74. H e goes on t o say t h a t i t is o n l y the c o n s i s t e n c y
of h i s c o n d u c t t h a t g i v e s to the v i c i o u s m a n t h e appearance of r a t i o n a l i t y , and t h a t
e v e n if such a m a n has a t h e o r y of life c o n s i s t e n t w i t h h i s a c t i o n s , it is not t h i s theory
w h i c h m a k e s h i m act as he d o e s . A n d o , Aristotle's Theory, pp. 3 0 7 - 8 , correctly
ascribes cleverness to the v i c i o u s m a n and t h e n on t h i s b a s i s i d e n t i f i e s h i s reasoning
a s p r o d u c t i v e . The problem is n o t t o be so e a s i l y resolved, h o w e v e r , for t h e s y l l o g i s m
w h i c h is p u z z l i n g is not an e x a m p l e of t h e v i c i o u s m a n ' s p r o d u c t i v e cleverness.
T h a t is another m a t t e r . The one is concerned for d e t e r m i n i n g the end, the other for
reaching i t .
INTERPRETATIONS 155
as a constituent means. Furthermore, there is a philological argument

of sorts to be considered here. It is sometimes held t h a t Aristotle lacks
the concept of properly ethical obligation. Anscombe, for instance,
argues that just as the term "ought" does not always express ethical
obligation in English, so the term delv does not express ethical obliga-
tion in the works of Aristotle. 47 But Gauthier has argued that Aristotle
does have such a conception of ethical obligation. His argument
is t h a t the term xaXov is not restricted to what is aesthetically fine,
but that its root meaning has to do with nobility and fittingness. When
xaX6v occurs together with delv, the obligation expressed by the
latter is full ethical obligation. 48 We can ask, then, whether the "ought"
in the vicious man's major premise expresses ethical obligation or not.
That is, does the vicious man think he ought to pursue the present
pleasure because it is noble or fitting to do so? And finally, if the
vicious man is one who surrenders to his every desire, in what sense
does his action stem from his belief t h a t one ought to pursue the present
pleasure? T h a t is, what function does his reasoning perform in his
action ? Are we to think of him as conscientiously yielding to his desires ?
But what would we mean by the term "conscientiously," here?
These objections may well point to a certain ambiguity or confusion
on Aristotle's part concerning the reasoning of the vicious man, an
ambiguity or confusion which we can find as well in what he says about
the reasoning of the morally weak man; b u t the bulk of what he says
both in the Nicomachean Ethics and the De Anima supports the doctrine
that the vicious man does have an opinion about the good and t h a t he
does complete a practical syllogism. More than that, this practical syllo-
gism is parallel to t h a t of the virtuous man, in that it is a moral syllo-
gism. In the De Anima, it is said t h a t pleasure appears as the absolute
good, and in the Nicomachean Ethics, t h a t many identify pleasure with
the good. 49 We could perhaps say t h a t the principle of the* vicious man
47
Intention, pp. 63-64, 88-91. A n s c o m b e c l a i m s that ethical obligation depends
on a "law" c o n c e p t i o n of e t h i c s foreign t o A r i s t o t l e . T h i s is a common v i e w . See
Fairbrother, Mind, N . S . VI (1897), n o t e 1, p. 3 6 6 , for another statement of it.
48
La Morale, p. 87. Gauthier f i n d s about 170 occurrcnces of t h i s full ethical
sense of delv in the Nicomachean Ethics alone.
49
,V.£. 1095bl4-17. A d i s t i n c t i o n should perhaps be drawn between the ax6-
XaoTo; and someone like E u d o x u s , who is said to have held that pleasure is the good.
The axoJ.aarog holds that pleasure is the good because of h i s desires, whereas
156 INTERPRETATIONS
is what is sometimes called a "degenerate case" of a moral principle,

and that what is most probable is not that such a man would reason
that he ought to pursue the present pleasure, but rather that it is all
right to do so, or that he sees nothing wrong with doing so. B u t Aris-
totle does say the vicious man will deliberately pursue a pleasure even
when he has but slight desire, and so there may even be occasion for
the use of his principle in directing his behavior. ( N . E . 1150a25-30)
What now of the action of the morally weak man? He acts in a
sense vno Aoyov xal So£rjs, "under the influence of a principle or
opinion." But what kind of a principle or opinion? If we follow the
first translation we gave of the passage from the De Anima at the begin-
ning of this section, our interpretation should be conditioned by the
statement that in akrasia, desire activates wish. We should then argue
that the morally weak man has the following syllogism: "Do not eat
an excessive number of sweets. That does not amount to an excessive
number. Therefore, it is permissible to eat that." The sophistry of
desire would be easily understandable in such a case. Desire would
influence the perception of the moral significance of a particular situ-
ation and lead the morally weak man to miscalculate. This kind of
"rationalization" is familiar to all, and is certainly what the view that
the morally weak man is temporarily morally blind would ordinarily
be taken to mean.
B u t this does not seem to be a case in which there are ambiguities in
Aristotle's text which must be resolved by bringing to bear materials
drawn from other portions of the Corpus. Aristotle says unequivocally
that the morally weak man acts against his nqoaiqeaic. He does not
say that the ngoaiQEaig of the morally weak man is twisted by desire. 60
Eudoxus was persuaded by arguments and was himselfa temperate m a n . See N.E.
1172b9-18. Does this imply t h a t Eudoxus was morally inconsistent 7 Or does it
imply that there is a difference between the generic view that pleasure is the good
and the specific view that the present pleasure is the good?
80 In the Eudemian Ethics it is asked whether ipgdyrjaig can be misused, and
one of the positions taken on the problem is presented in the form of a question:
"Who then is there in whom this occurs? or is it in the same way as the vice of the
irrational part of the spirit is termed lack of control (akrasia), and the uncontrolled
man Is in a manner profligate—possessing reason (vovg), but ultimately if his appetite
is powerful It will turn him round, and he will draw the opposite inference?" See
E.E. 1246bl2-15. In denying that desire alters the universal premise of the moral-
INTERPRETATIONS 157
And the passage in which it is said that the morally weak man acts,
in a sense, under the influence of a principle or opinion leaves no room
for doubt that this opinion is the universal premise "All sweet things
are pleasant." It cannot be the particular premise, because he goes
on to say that lower animals cannot be morally weak because they
have no power of forming universals. (N.E. 1147b3-5) It cannot be
the prohibiting universal premise because that premise can hardly be
accidentally opposed to itself. There seems to be no alternative but to
conclude that the syllogism which Aristotle attributes to the morally
weak man is "All sweet things are pleasant. That is sweet. Therefore,
that is pleasant." If we are to interpret the ambiguous passage in the
De Anima by the unambiguous passage in the Nicomachean Ethics
we should adopt the second translation of the former, that presented
by Smith, and conclude that the disposition to which Aristotle refers
when he says that desire activates wish is ixoXaala, and not akrasia.
The morally weak man is not to be credited with an opinion about
what is good, then; and in saying that he acts against his ngoaigeais,
Aristotle must be interpreted to mean that he acts against his moral
choice. The sophistry of desire is twofold. Its effect on the ¿xdXaarog
is to generate illusion, false opinion about what is good. But its effect
on the axqaxis to generate blindness, the absence of opinion about
what is good—the absence, that is, of an opinion about what is good
in the particular situation.
But if the syllogism of the morally weak man is not a moral syllogism
at all, what kind of syllogism is it? And in what way is it related to
the action which is performed ? That is, what is the sense of vn6 in the
remark that the morally weak man acts vno Xoyovlli it is the desire
which moves him, is the syllogism a kind of idle commentary not really
integral to the action itself? If the particular premise of this syllo-
gism were "That is pleasant," one might have difficulty in seeing how
the universal premise had any genuine role in the action, but since
the particular premise is "That is sweet," the universal premise does
have a role. The situation of the morally weak man is that he is ani-
mated by an active desire. But we must understand this as a kind of
generalized desire for any of a variety of pleasures. His syllogism
ly weak man, Aristotle must be challenging this analysis of akrasia as temporary

dxoXaaia.
158 INTERPRETATIONS
specifies and directs the desire onto the object before him by way of
the middle term "sweetness." Now since his end is pleasure, and since
pleasure is not separable from the act of tasting or eating, this syllogism
should perhaps be considered as a nonmoral but nonetheless strictly
practical syllogism. The morally weak man does not lose either his
productive or his practical cleverness, then, even though he does lose
his sense of moral relevance. 61
What answer should be given to Austin's charge that Aristotle
confuses moral weakness and loss of control? Austin very likely
had in mind what Aristotle says in chapter 13 of Book i of the Nicoma-
chean Ethics, rather than what he says in chapter 3 of Book vii. Aris-
totle does not say that moral weakness involves the loss of all forms
of rational control. He says that the morally weak man acts under
the influence of an opinion and that he does not lose his cleverness,
and further, Aristotle remarks on the craftiness and cunning of the
man dominated by desire. To raven and snatch would amount to a
total loss of rational control. But to take the extra portion at all
amounts to a loss of moral control. Moral purpose is a more subtle
matter than practical purpose in the gross sense. To know a man's
moral purpose, we must not only observe what he does, we must find
out what he does it for. A man may lose his moral purpose, he may
lose his moral choice, without losing his ability to act for ends, much
less his ability to link actions together into a productively coherent se-
quence. And moral weakness, for Aristotle, is the loss of effective moral
purpose. In the gross sense, this is not loss of control. But in a more
subtle sense, that is just what it is.
51
Although t h i s interpretation is formally consistent w i t h w h a t Aristotle says
about jigaiig and about pleasure, I cannot help but wonder if he would h a v e re-
garded the i m m a n e n c e of pleasure in an action as comparable t o the immanence of
evngaiia.
CHAPTER VI
SOME CRITICISMS OF ARISTOTLE'S DOCTRINE
It is important in following such a subject as the analysis of akrasia

to make some kind 01 a distinction between philosophical and psycho-
logical issues—a distinction perhaps not too far from t h a t implied by
Aristotle in his distinction of the types of concepts used in the analysis
of akrasia. Such a distinction is difficult to draw, because psycholog-
ical facts must be described through terms t h a t are involved in philo-
sophical issues. Still, it may seem psychologically incredible that when-
ever a person submits to temptation against his moral principles he does
so in temporary blindness to the moral significance of his situation. A
kind of neo-Euripideanism might well beconstructed to counter Aristotle's
neo-Socratism. It might be argued that Aristotle's analysis of akrasia,
no more than that of Socrates, is derived from introspective observation,
which testifies incorrigibly against any "loss of understanding" in the
course of submitting to temptation against one's moral principles.
W h a t is behind Aristotle's conception is not observation, it might be
said, but his doctrine concerning practical reason. According to this
doctrine, the conclusion to a practical syllogism is an action. In a more
expanded form, the last step of deliberation is the first step of action,
so that a syllogistic conclusion and an effective decision are one and
the same. The consequence of this position is that if an action is not
forthcoming, the reasoning could not have been completed. Aristotle's
conception ot akrasia thus reduces to a kind of elaboration of a tautol-
ogy, one which is similar to that which we said was unworthy of Socrates.
Of Socrates we said that if the "practical" in "practical knowledge"
were taken so narrowly that practical knowledge would be reduced to
skill in action, then akrasia would have to be some kind of failure of
knowledge. B u t this failure of knowledge would be indistinguishable
from the failure of performance which is supposed to be its symptom,
and the sense of the term "ignorance" as the name for this failure of
knowledge would be so impoverished as to be quite empty. The same
line ol criticism will hold for Aristotle. If we mean b y "loss of under-
160 SOME CRITICISM
standing" what we ordinarily mean, and not simply "failure of perform-

ance," then akrasia does not imply loss of understanding. Since
it does not, and since Aristotle's theory of practical reason implies
that it does, then Aristotle's theory of practical reason is as counter to
obvious psychological facts as is Socrates' theory of virtue as knowledge.
There are two parts to such a criticism. One concerns the facts and
the other, Aristotle's methods. It would be a defiance of the complex-
ities of culture and personality to defend Aristotle's reading of the facts
in any straightforward w a y . Perhaps Greek gentlemen of his day were
not subjected to the "temptations" which have accrued through the
varying fortunes of Christian and other asceticisms. Perhaps moral
weakness did not have t h a t desperate compulsiveness with which we
have been familiar since the days of Paul and Augustine, although
Euripides' characters suggest otherwise. B u t one may also wonder
whether it is, after all, so easy to establish by means of introspection
t h a t one retains one's understanding intact when one submits to temp-
tation. Would not the very act of attending to such a possibility alter
the usual course of events and reinforce the understanding—giving us,
not a genuine case of succumbing to temptation, but a counterfeit of
i t ? The introspective test in that case would require a situation not
unlike the one in the story in which one is required not to think of a
certain o b j e c t — a feat which the king in the story politely declines to
undertake. Still, do we not have the indirect avenue of memory, where
the difficulties of attending to a possible shift in attention are absent?
Here again we encounter the possibility of a reduction to a non-veri-
fiable position, because the Aristotelian could ask: "Did you really remem-
ber what you understood at the very moment you succumbed?" Such
a "moment" could, of course, be reduced to the vanishing point. Per-
haps all that can be said when the issue is taken to be genuinely empir-
ical, and not "obvious to introspection," is that some people think that
they do not succumb in the full light of understanding and the full pain
of self-condemnation and remorse, and others think they do. Perhaps
someone could devise a test.
B u t our interest is not primarily devoted to the facts of the case.
W e are more concerned for the other part of this neo-Euripidean chal-
lenge, that which concerns Aristotle's methods. Since we have tried
to show that Aristotle's conception of akrasia is related to his broader
doctrine concerning practical reason, are we thereby committed to the
SOME CRITICISM 161
implication t h a t bis conception is only a logical consequence of t h a t

doctrine ? I think not. It is true that if it is held that the conclusion to a
practical syllogism is an action, then failure to act implies some failure
in the syllogizing. B u t Aristotle has several alternatives here. One is
the possibility t h a t the "loss of understanding" is the shift from a practi-
cal attitude to a contemplative one. One's ipgdvrjaii would then be
converted to ovveoig by the action of desire. The reasoning would be the
same, b u t one would lose practical interest in it and the conclusion
would be a proposition rather than an action. One would become a
spectator to.one's wrongdoing. Another alternative would be the possi-
bility t h a t the failure is not a failure of perception but of didvoia. One
would retain one's understanding of the two premises taken separately,
but lose the ability to put them together and draw the right conclusion.
The third alternative is the one that Aristotle adopts: that one loses
the understanding of the minor premise. W h a t follows from Aristotle's
doctrine of practical reason is that one of these three alternatives, or
perhaps some other like them, should be true. Which one is not implied
in the same w a y . Of the three, it is the first, that is, the conversion of
ygdrrjois to avveaig, which might give rise to the charge of empirical
emptiness, for it would be difficult to discover a criterion for such a
conversion other than failure of performance.
Given these alternatives, w h y did Aristotle take the one he d i d ?
If we set aside the first as oversubtle, perhaps we can say that since
didvoia is an intellectual operation, it would not be considered b y Aris-
totle to be directly linked to any specific bodily condition and t h a t
therefore there is no such a link between desire and didvoia as there
is between desire and perception. Even though moral perception is
not reducible to direct sensation, Aristotle obviously considers it to
involve some specific physiological function, perhaps that of the heart;
and we have seen that perception and appetite are for him only different
functional aspects of the same activation of the "sensitive mean."
It m a y also be t h a t Aristotle did not disregard observation altogether
in developing his conception of akrasia, for he obviously paid some
attention to the ranting of drunkards.
W h a t e v e r we are to make of such a psychologically based neo-Euripi-
deanism, and there is no doubt that we have not exhausted the resources
of such a view, what is of more philosophical interest are criticisms
of Aristotle's conception which accuse him of fundamental philosophical
162 SOME CRITICISM
error or inadequacy. In this chapter we shall consider three such criti-

cisms, in the hope of sharpening the broad philosophical issues that
emerge. The problem of akrasia is a spawning-ground for such issues.
The first criticism we shall consider is that Aristotle, like Plato, needless-
ly complicated the situation of moral weakness by interpreting it through
a political myth about "parts of the soul." The second criticism is
that it is not ignorance but sincerity or assent which is involved in
akrasia. The third criticism is that Aristotle did not know of the
existence of the will, and hence was in no position to understand akrasia,
which is the failure of the will rather than the failure of the mind. There
are no doubt other properly philosophical criticisms which merit discus-
sion. These three have been selected because they have been prominent
in recent literature.
The Myth of the Parts of the Soul
It is sometimes supposed that the moral psychology which is presented

by Plato and Aristotle is mistaken because it is based on the conception
t h a t the soul has "parts" which are related in ways at least analogous
to personal relations. This assumption has been labeled the "para-
political m y t h " by Ryle, and the development of this criticism for the
case of akrasia has been recently carried out by Mayo. 1 Mayo suggests
t h a t the concept of self-control and the metaphor of conflict are among
the most "philosophy-provoking and philosophy-embodying con-
cepts in everyday discourse." 2 His argument runs thus: at a non-
reflective level, one has no difficulty in using and understanding ordinary
language about controlling oneself, bringing oneself to do something, fail-
ing in self-control, letting temper get the better of one, being tempted
to act against better judgment, being an addict, and so on. The prob-
lems arise when one reflects on the kind of control that is involved in
self-control. Plato and Aristotle present classic statements of one of
the temptations that arise here, the temptation to think of self-control
1 See R y l e , The Concept 0/ Mind, pp. 2 3 - 2 4 , and Dilemmas, pp. 64-65. B . Mayo,
Ethics and the Moral Life. The argument which we shall consider is presented in
chapter V I I : " T h e Nature of Moral Problems."
* Ibid., p. 125.
SOME CRITICISM 163
as the control of one part of the soul over another part.' Mayo describes
the classical puzzle as "how is it possible for Reason to fail to control
Passion ?" He identifies Reason as "a compendious way of referring to a
person's capacity for deducing conclusions, avoiding inconsistency and
weighing evidence," and Passion as "whatever activates us when we act,
as we say, 'on impulse. "' 4 These are hardly identifications which will do
for the conceptions of Plato and Aristotle—Reason here may resemble
diávoia, but hardly vovg, and Impulse is not the only manifestation
of éjiiQvfiía—but the argument does not hinge on nice exactitudes of
scholarship.
According to Mayo, the inhibition of impulse is classically construed
as the control of subjects by a ruler. Loss of self-control is explained by
distinguishing between the power and authority of this ruler. No matter
how much authority a ruler may have, he cannot have absolute power;
and defiance by the subject is always possible.5 There are two things
wrong with this political conception of self-control. First, we just know
that the soul is not really a miniature commonwealth. Second, obedience,
which itself involves self-control, cannot be used to explain self-control
without generating an infinite regress.4
Mayo's solution of the classical puzzle is to dispense with the para-
political myth and turn to the distinction between dispositions and
occurrences.7 We use occurrence-words "when we are talking about what
happened or is happening to somebody, or about what he did or is
doing at a particular time." We use dispositional words "when we are
talking. . . about what might or would happen, or what he may be ex-
pected to do or would do on certain sorts of occasion."8 He then calls
attention to several disposition-words especially relevant to the puzzle
of self-control: "patient," "resolute," "indefatigable," "diligent,"
3
Ibid., pp. 125-26. Mayo refers t o Republic 4 3 4 - 4 0 and to N.E. B o o k i, c h a p -
ter 13.
4
Ethics and the Moral Life, pp. 127-28. T h e g e n e s i s of the puzzle is a g a i n s u m m a -
rized on pp. 1 2 9 - 1 3 1 .
5
Ibid., pp. 131-33.
• Ibid., p. 133.
7
Ibid., p. 135. H e p o i n t s out t h a t A r i s t o t l e "had a great deal t o s a y " a b o u t t h i s
d i s t i n c t i o n b u t d o e s n o t consider h o w it is t h a t t h e m a n w h o is largely r e s p o n s i b l e
for the p h i l o s o p h i c a l d e v e l o p m e n t of the d i s t i n c t i o n failed t o see t h a t he h a d rendered
t h e para-political m y t h o b s o l e t e .
8 lhu „ n i
164 SOME CRITICISM
"assiduous," "conscientious," "equable," "faithful," and "trustworthy."

These words share three peculiarities: on the whole they tell us that
a person would not act impulsively, they are subject to exception, and
they refer to virtues. It is the second peculiarity which is most relevant
to the Classical Puzzle. Disposition-words that apply to people are
unlike those that apply to inhuman objects, in being subject to excep-
tions. They are "essentially elastic."* The solution to the puzzle as to
how it is possible for Reason to control Passion is to reformulate the
question as: "How is it possible for human beings to acquire character-
dispositions like patience, resoluteness, and conscientiousness?" The
solution to the puzzle as to how Reason can lose control over Passion
is to reformulate the question as: "How is it possible for statements
about dispositions to admit of exceptions?" 10
These criticisms have unequal force. It is not clear whether Mayo
holds that "essential elasticity" is a logical feature of disposition-words
applying to human beings. If he does, it is curious to pass on to the
question as to how it is possible for such dispositions to admit of excep-
tions. The appropriate reaction to any puzzlement about akrasia would
be simply "What do you expect? He is only human." If Mayo does not
intend elasticity to be a logical feature, then nothing has been resolved
at all. The answer to the question as to how it is possible for such dis-
positions to admit of exceptions can very well be: the soul consist of parts
and sometimes the authority of the ruling part is not matched by its
power and the other part rebels. One can also doubt that we just know
that the soul is not a miniature commonwealth, or that the theory of
quasi-politically related parts is obviously ridiculuous, as Ryle seems
to assume. Mayo prides himself on turning the problem of self-control
over to the psychologists "in a suitable form for investigation, being
no longer wrapped up in the relics of a false theory." 11 But nothing
has been done to show the theory false—no evidence has been
adduced. Indeed, something very like this para-political myth flourishes
in psychoanalytic theory. 12
» Ibid., pp. 1 3 7 - 3 8 .
10
Ibid., pp. 138-39.
u
Ibid., p. 140.
12
One of the s i m p l e s t s t a t e m e n t s is Charles Brenner, An Elementary Textbook
o] Psychoanalysis. Chapters III and IV are e s p e c i a l l y r e l e v a n t to t h i s q u e s t i o n of
parts of the soul and self-control. There are i n t e r e s t i n g a n a l o g i e s b e t w e e n classical
SOME CRITICISM 165
The significant criticism that Mayo makes is the regress argument:

that since obedience involves self-control, obedience cannot be used
to explain self-control without generating an infinite regress. A good
prima facie case can be made out for this argument as applying to both
Plato and Aristotle, since they both associate cognitive and appetitive
functions into quasi-personal constellations. But there are two reasons
why the prima facie case is oversimple. The first is that emphasis is
placed by Plato on ignorance rather than disobedience in certain stages
of his thought, and by Aristotle in his most elaborate analysis. The
second is that this ignorance is related to habituation—that is, once
again, that the para-political myth and the explanation through dis-
positions are not mutually inconsistent. And finally, though it is true
that both Plato and Aristotle duplicate the gross functions ot a person
in the parts of the soul, the functions are significantly different in each
part. The cognitive functioning of the superior part is rational, that of
the inferior part is imaginative; the appetitive functioning 01 the superior
part is similarly different from that of the inferior part. A formal regress
must fail, then, since its steps would be of different character.
There is another argument against the para-political myth which
is expressed forcefully in the following passage by Hardie:
But the language which turns a person into persons is misleading as well
as false when it is used in explaining "the moral struggle." It is misleading
because it is of the essence of the situation that the self which desires
is also the self which judges that it is wrong to satisfy the desire. To
turn the self's own desire into an agent is at once to falsify the facts in a
way which leads to the denial of moral responsibility, since the yielding
by the self to its own desire will be represented as the victory of a foreign
force. The bad will is not my will.18
The doctrine of the parts of the soul is inconsistent with moral responsi-
bility, then, and Hardie directs the criticism at both Plato and Aristotle.
To bring the concept of moral responsibility and the concept of parts
of the soul into direct opposition in this way may be more difficult than
philosophy and psychoanalytic theory. Of special interest for the conception of

akrasia are: the tendency to immediate discharge of cathexis which is charac-
teristic of the id, the double relation of ego to id as executor and "opponent and
even master" (p. 69), and the various defence mechanisms through which the id
is controlled. These latter recall Plato's speculations in the Timaeus.
1S
A Study, p. 140.
166 SOME CRITICISM
it seems. The concept of parts of the soul is a factual concept, in the

sense that it is intended to provide description and explanation for human
phenomena. The concept of moral responsibility is a value concept in
the sense that it is intended to regulate conduct. Thus the concept of
moral responsibility is a function of the superior values of a moral system
in a way that the concept of parts of the soul is not, setting to one side
the influence of such values on the formation of factual concepts and
on the epistemological standards with which they are employed. W h o
is to be held responsible for what and just what is implied by being
held responsible are questions to be settled by the superior values of a
moral system. Thus if the satisfaction of impulse is held to be a superior
value, responsibility may involve the legitimacy of targets for revenge,
and children, madmen, and even inanimate objects may be responsible
in this way. If personal integration and social harmony are superior
values, being held responsible may mean being legitimately exposed to
reeducative measures administered by rational authority, and the
possible success of such measures may determine who is to be held respon-
sible.
In view of both the value-aspects and the variability of the concept
of moral responsibility, it would hardly be sound philosophical procedure
to settle the question of the unity of the soul by reference to it. If the
doctrine of parts of the soul is a " m y t h " which extrapolates Greek
political life, so the doctrine or the strict unity of the soul may be a
" m y t h " which extrapolates the religious assumptions of the Judaeo-
Christian tradition, requiring, as they do, some absolute justice meted
out by an omniscient judge. A s myths, both the political and the
unitarian conceptions are on the same footing. As empirical theories
neither has an a priori edge on the other. If it should be the case that
the political myth should prove a true and fruitful theory, and if it should
be the case that this theory conflicts with that version of moral respon-
sibility which dominates our moral system, then presumably the philo-
sophical response to this situation should be "so much the worse for the
moral system."
These remarks indicate how Plato might have coped with such a criti-
cism, for he carried on a protracted effort to revise the concept of moral
responsibility along just such lines. In a way, he accepted the doctrine
that "the bad will is not my will." A t least he argued repeatedly that
men are involuntarily bad. Nonetheless, he held them responsible for
SOME CRITICISM 167
what they do—responsible in the sense of being legitimately exposed

to remedial measures. 1 * Aristotle, on the other hand, denies that "the
bad will is not my will." But this does not lead him to a rejection of
parts of the soul for that reason. So to speak, for Aristotle it is not the
rational part alone which is held responsible. It is the community of
parts which is held responsible for actions stemming from any of the
parts. Hardie has overlooked Aristotle's distinction between deliberate
and voluntary action, and the treatment of akrasia and the voluntary
in the Eudemian Ethics. This is not to say that Aristotle does not
have his troubles with the concept of the voluntary, but these lie with
the problem of relating the concept of what is in an agent's power to
the psychology of habit, rather than relating the concept of moral respon-
sibility to the psychology of parts of the soul.
There is little to be gained philosophically or historically by defending
Plato and Aristotle from ill-conceived criticisms, except insofar as such
efforts lead to a closer appreciation of characteristic positions. These
arguments against the para-political myth miss their objective because
they assume that it is psychic conflict which ultimately interests Plato
and Aristotle in the situations of moral strength and weakness. I have
tried to show that both do accept the reality of such araaig in the soul,
and in the psychological stage of Plato's thought this aspect of the
situation is very prominent. But the ultimate emphasis of both is not
on the sheer element of conflict, for they are both interested in the entire
process involved. When that entire process is considered, the element
of conflict is of less importance than the formation of the final intention
with which the morally weak man acts. It is with regard to the formation
of that intention that the characteristic position of Aristotle, at least,
is held, and this is that some loss of moral understanding is involved.
Now let us turn to another modern way with the problem of akrasia,
one whose emphases resemble those of Aristotle and which recalls
the narrow conception of practical belief we have rejected for both
Socrates and Aristotle.
The Practical Import Criterion
The problem of akrasia has received a certain amount of attention

from philosophers who are concerned for the practicality of moral
14 See Laws S60D-63A for a concise statement of the entire position.

168 SOME CRITICISM
principles, and thus, in a way, for practical reason. The most widely
discussed of these positions is that of R . M. Hare. W e shall consider
his treatment and an elaboration of it by H. J . N. Horsburgh.
Hare is concerned for reasoning as a form of the use of language;
and he classifies the philosophical problem of akrasia as a problem in
the language of moral psychology rather than the language of morals
itself, with which he is primarily concerned. However, he discusses
akrasia briefly and indicates how he would go about resolving it. 1 8 Some-
thing of Hare's position on the language of morals should be given
before proceeding to the problem of akrasia itself. He holds t h a t the
practical use of language is primarily to tell someone what to do, as dis-
tinguished from making someone do something through rousing his
emotions. He assimilates moral language to prescriptive language
and carries through an extended comparison of moral uses of language
and imperatives. He quotes Aristotle with approval and appears to
consider his own position to be an elaboration of Aristotle's contention
t h a t virtue is a disposition governing choice. 1 8 One of the consequences
of this position is that one can only be said to be sincere in one's assent
to a prescriptive statement addressed to oneself if one does or resolves
or intends t o do what is indicated by such a statement. 1 7
Hare recognizes that he is called upon to deal with the problem of
akrasia, for such a position appears to imply the adoption of the Socratic
position, which Hare expresses as " I t is analytic to say that everyone
always does what he thinks he ought to do." His modernized version
of what he takes to be Aristotle's objection to this is that this is not
how we use the word " t h i n k . " He indicates how he would deal with the
difficulty in the following brief passage:
The trouble arises because our criteria, in ordinary speech, for saying
"He thinks he ought" are exceedingly elastic. If a person does not do
something, but the omission is accompanied by feelings of guilt, etc., we
normally say that he has not done what he thinks he ought. It is there-
16 The Language of Morals, pp. v i , 169. I understand t h a t Hare has elaborated

his position in a paper, but I have not seen this in publication.
14 Ibid., p. 1. See also pp. 26, 29, 56, 67-68, 99, lor references to Aristotle's empha-
sis on the practicality of ethics. Needless to say, the "practicality" of ethics here
has little to do with Aristotle's specialized conception of ngaîg.
17 Ibid., pp. 13, 19-20. The argument is here developed for commands. On pp.
142-43 it is developed for moral statements.
SOME CRITICISM 169
fore necessary to qualify the criterion given above for "sincerely assenting
to a command," and to admit that there are degrees of sincere assent,
not all of which involve actually obeying the command.18
The task of working out the elasticity of these criteria has been
assumed by Horsburgh. 19 His version of the practical import criterion
is the following: "When I say that A accepts the moral rule, 'One ought
to do X ' without reserve, I mean (i) that he always obeys this rule,
and (ii) that his obedience is unconditional in the sense that it is to be
explained by reference to the rule."10 Actual obedience is the primary
criterion for acceptance, then, but Horsburgh argues that this primary
criterion is "stretched" or "diluted." This dilution yields a less strict
criterion, which is the intention to obey, and a least strict criterion,
which is the wish to obey. Strictness of criterion is correlated to frequen-
cy of actual obedience-performances in that if a person occasionally fails
to perform and if he has remorse on those occasions he is said to have
the intention to obey, whereas if he usually fails to perform he is only
said to wish to obey. The conclusion of the argument is that "the
more exacting the criterion which a moral agent can satisfy, the higher
the degree of assent we attribute to him." 11 The argument is summarized
thus: "The scales of fullness of assent and strength of character are
therefore closely connected. Those who fully assfent to moral rules are
persons of strong character; those who only partially assent to moral
rules are persons of weak character." 11
It is not quite clear whether Hare and Horsburgh mean to say that
moral weakness involves less than fully sincere assent to a principle,
or assent which is sincere enough as far as it goes, but is only partial
assent. That is, the distinction between moral weakness and hypocrisy
is not as sharply drawn as it might be. This is an important distinction
18
Ibid., pp. 169-70.
"The Criteria of Assent t o a Moral Rule," Mind, N.S. L X I I I (1954), 345-58.
» Ibid., p. 353.
n
Ibid., p. 354.
a
Ibid., p. 357. Horsburgh's position has been flatly contravened b y C.K. Grant
in a short article, "Akrasia and the Criteria of Assent to Practical Principles,"
Mind, N.S. L X V (1956), 400-7. Grant's argument is that if the performance criterion
is adopted, the problem of akrasia cannot be stated, for the condition of akrasia is
the sincerity of avowals of adherence to a principle. Mayo takes a similar position
at p. 171, Ethics and the Moral Life.
170 SOME CRITICISM
to be clear about, because the role of the performance criterion may be

different for the two cases. If we have reason to suspect a person's
sincerity we may look to his actions as one test of what he really believes
—actions speak louder than words. Here it is worth noticing t h a t both
Hare and Horsburgh concentrate on the third-person case, where we
may have reason to suspect sincerity. Rarely, a person may come to
suspect his own sincerity and adopt a third-person attitude to himself,
discovering his real beliefs from his actions. But normally a person does
not have to discover either his own moral principles or those of another
from a survey of relevant actions, because normally a person knows what
he believes in a more direct manner, and can find out what another
believes by asking him and being told. If it is the intention of Horsburgh
a t least to assimilate akrasia to hypocrisy or insincerity, his emphasis
on performance is intelligible but unestablished. For the normal assump-
tion is that sincerity is the precondition for moral weakness. Certainly
Aristotle makes this assumption, for he credits the dxparijs with remorse,
one of the marks or elements of sincerity.
If we set aside the question of sincerity, what do we have ? Apparently
the position would be this: there are degrees of assent to a moral principle;
these degrees consist in wishing to perform appropriately, intending to
perform appropriately, and performing appropriately; and frequency of
performance provides the criterion for assigning wish, intention, and
full assent to a person. The morally weak person does not perform
counter to his principles because his assent falls low in the scale, rather,
his low assent consists in frequently performing counter to the principle.
We have three problems to consider, then: (a) What, if any, is the
relevance of this formulation in terms of assent to Aristotle's formulation
in terms of knowledge? (b) Are wish and intention lesser degrees of
assent? (c) Is frequency of performance the criterion for assigning wish,
intention, and full assent?
The concept of assent is Stoic in origin and may have nuances, especial-
ly those attending the doctrine that assent is always in the power of the
mind, that are foreign to Aristotle's thought. Disregarding those nuances,
perhaps we can make an approach to a confrontation of positions by
considering degrees of assent as equivalent to degrees of sureness of belief.
Aristotle rejects this analysis of akrasia on the ground that action counter
to weak belief is forgiven, but blameworthy qualities (including akrasia)
are not. (N.E. 1145b31-1146a5) He also indicates that the common
SOME CRITICISM 171
conception of akrasia, which he accepts, involves thorough conviction

concerning moral principle itself. (N.E. 1146a31-1146b2) As a first step
in comparing positions, then, we may say t h a t Hare and Horsburgh, and
especially Horsburgh, wish to analyze akrasia through belief or
conviction regarding the universal premise of a syllogism and t h a t Aris-
totle rejects this analysis. It is not through his general attitudes or
beliefs t h a t the morally weak man is to be distinguished and understood,
but through his particular failures. Perhaps, to do full justice to the
position we are considering, we should say t h a t there is a kind of person
who is sometimes called weak-minded, whose distinguishing character-
istic is inability to be sure about what he ought to do. Aristotle would
suggest that we distinguish this disposition from moral weakness proper.
The next question is, are wish and intention lesser degrees of assent?
It is true that a person who fails in performance can still intend to per-
form prior to the failure; and it is true t h a t a person who fails in inten-
tion, as in the case of someone not able to bring himself to decide to do
something, can still wish to do it. B u t the reason why the one person
intends and the other wishes is that both give full assent to the relevant
principle. This is so obvious that we can only conclude t h a t Hare and
Horsburgh have confused the variation in criteria for assent with
variations in assent. What does it mean only to partially assent to
a moral principle? One can be not quite sure whether a certain kind of
action is right, one can balance the claims of one principle against
those of another where both apply, and one can restrict the range of a
principle ordinarily thought to have wider application. In all these
cases one might say that one only partially assented to a moral principle.
But none of these have anything to do with intending, as against perform-
ing, or wishing as against both intending and performing. What Hare
and Horsburgh seem to have in mind is the range of cases in which
although a person says that he ought to do a certain kind of thing, he
does not take what he says seriously, or does not "take it to heart." Such
a person may not understand what a moral priciple is, as distinct, for
instance, from a principle of taste. We may call such a person weak or
frivolous, but once again, this is not akrasia, for such an attitude is
inconsistent with remorse. Finally, we might wish to say that a person
only partially assents to a principle if he does not understand when
the principle is applicable. He may believe in the generality but not
see that it really applies to him in these and these circumstances. When
172 SOME CRITICISM
this selective perception can be related to the desire to do the things the
principle would forbid in such circumstances, we have Aristotle'sanalysis.
This brings us to the last of our questions concerning akrasia and the
practical import criterion for moral principles. We formulated this
question as: "Is frequency of performance the criterion for assigning
wish, intention, and full assent?" Since we have argued that wish and
intention presuppose full assent, perhaps we can reformulate the question
more simply as: "Is performance the criterion for assent?" As to whether
frequency of performance has anything to do with the difference between
wish and intention, the answer would seem to be that it has not. If a
person says or believes that he intends to do something and does not do
it, we may decide that he is fooling us or fooling himself, but we do not
say that he did not intend to do it, but rather only wished to do it.
But what about the performance criterion for assent to practical and
thus to moral principles? Is performance the criterion for assent or
belief or knowledge, over and above being the criterion for sincerity
of expression of assent or belief or knowledge? The question can
have two senses, according to a narrow and a broad sense for the term
"performance." If we take performance in the narrow sense and mean
by it the actual completion of an action, then the answer to the question
must be "no." For in any sense in which performance will be a criterion,
so will intention and wish. These are alternative criteria, whose applica-
tion varies with circumstances. But if we take performance in a broad
sense, then it will no longer be distinguished from intention and wish, for
intention is intention to perform and wish is wish to perform. Perform-
ance in this broad sense will include all the phases of action, all of what
we may call the practical attitudes, if we should wish to note the dis-
positional aspects of intention and wish. It would then seem to be a
truism that practical attitudes are criteria for assent to practical princi-
ples as practical. If we take the distinction between the theoretical and
the practical seriously, we must mean that a person who assents to or
believes or knows a practical principle adopts one or the other of the
practical attitudes, undertakes one of the relevant phases of action
in the appropriate circumstances. The answer to the question would
then seem to be "yes."
What then of akrasia? The answer lies in the relations of the phrases
of action, not in the intensity of the practical attitudes. If we follow
Aristotle, we should say that in the morally weak man there is a disrup-
SOME CRITICISM 173
tion of the course of the phases of action. The morally weak man wishes
to perform, as is evidenced by his remorse. He even intends to perform,
as is evidenced by his conflict. But his intention does not carry over
into action. He undergoes a failure of intention. An interesting contrast
here is with the different type of failure of intention which MissAnscombe
has called the "mistake in performance." Such a mistake occurs when
a person intends to do something and believes that he is doing it, but
due to special circumstances, does not succeed. Her example is t h a t of
a person who closes his eyes and believes that he is writing a phrase on a
blackboard, but due to a faulty surface, nothing appears.* 3 In a mistake
in performance the failure of intention does not involve the alteration of
intention. In akrasia, the failure of intention does involve the alteration
of intention, according to Aristotle.
Horsburgh would urge t h a t the morally weak man does not intend to
obey his principle. Aristotle would reply t h a t in a sense he does intend
to obey it, and in a sense he does not. We may say t h a t the morally
weak man's assent to a practical principle implies his intention to obey
it, in order to distinguish truly practical assent from such an operation as
avveaig. But a distinction should be made between the generalized inten-
tion to obey and the particular intention which governs particular actions.
It is the latter t h a t fails—not as an intention fails when something
intervenes between it and the intended result, but as an intention fails
when distraction results in seeing a situation differently or forgetting
what it was t h a t one intended to do.
We turn now to a final criticism of Aristotle. Moral weakness, it is
often said, is not a failure of knowledge nor a failure of intention. It does
involve a disruption of the course of the phases of action and it does
involve a failure of an intention to reach its normal result. That failure,
however, is the failure of will.
Akrasia and the Will
Ross presents in an almost offhand manner what must seem to be

the most obvious of all criticisms of Aristotle's analysis of akrasia. W h a t
is missing, says Ross, is the recognition that incontinence is not due to
is
See Intention, p p . 81-82. On p. 5 she refers t o Magna Moralia 1189b22 for
t h i s conception.
174 SOME CRITICISM
failure of knowledge, but to weakness of will.14 This may seem to be

an obvious criticism; but in view of the variety of conceptions to which
the term "will" has been attached, considerable clarification is required
to make the criticism significant. In the broadest sense, will can be
opposed to mind, and be taken to include desire, feeling, emotion, and
whatever else in human experience is not treated as knowledge. In this
broad sense, it would be very strange indeed for anyone to lack the
concept, and Aristotle certainly utilizes it in his analysis of akrasia.
In a somewhat narrower sense, will may be considered as the topic of
decision, and many scholars assume that Aristotle's account of @ov-
krjais and nQoaigeaig is an account of will.14 This is the view of Ross,
and what he seems to want Aristotle to show is more awareness of
moral struggle in his analysis of akrasia. We have remarked on this
elsewhere and will return to it later in this chapter.* But the concept
of the will can be given more specialized interpretations which raise more
important problems.
One of these interpretations has been briefly though forcefully pro-
posed by Gauthier, and made the basis for a major criticism, not only of
Aristotle's analysis of akrasia, but of his entire moral philosophy.
According to Gauthier, Aristotle was an optimistic moralist who thought
it possible to suppress sin, and who therefore developed the fundamental
conceptions of his moral psychology out of a consideration of virtue
alone. In the virtuous man appetite and intellect are immediately con-
nected in right action and there is no room for a third function, the
function of the will, which is free decision. So Aristotle is ignorant of the
will, and without such a concept, Aristotle must consider the moral
virtues as possessing value only insofar as they contribute to the develop-
ment of the intellect. Since intellectual ability is confined to a few,
Aristotle fails to construct an ethics for all men.*7 With the wider issue
M
Aristotle, p. 218.
* 8 See Grant, The Ethics of Aristotle I, 266, for a treatment of the practical syllo-
gism as an "elementary psychology of the will," a treatment which is elaborated
b y Ross on pp. 195-97 of his Aristotle. A . K . Griffin offers a parallel treatment on
p. 34 of Aristotle's Psychology of Conduct. Ando regularly translates ngoaigecu;
as "will."
26
See chapter V and Appendix.
27
See La Morale, pp. 24, 36-43, 92-96, 105-11. R. Jackson presents a parallel
critique of Aristotle's "intellectualism," which he attributes to the failure to under-
SOME CRITICISM 175
of Aristotle's aristocratic bias in favor of intellectuals we are not

concerned, but what of akrasia?
Gauthier hints that if Aristotle had been more interested in akrasia
and less in virtue, he would have paid more attention to free decision
and hence, to the will.*8 Just how the concept of the will is relevant to
the analysis of akrasia is indicated in the commentary to that analysis,
in which it is said that the concept of the will would enable Aristotle to
explain how incontinence and continence constitute a war within and
against oneself, and how the ignorance involved in akrasia comes about.
How would such an explanation proceed ? "Une telle explication suppose-
rait, en effet, l'intervention d'un désir rationnel capable de se déterminer
lui-même soit dans la ligne de la raison, soit dans la ligne du désir irration-
nel. Si l'on ignore la volonté, il faut nécessairement admettre la théorie
socratique de l'incontinence." w In akrasia, then the final action is due to
the activation of two desires, the rational and the irrational, and the
significant occurrence is the alignment of the rational desire with the
irrational one, and not the blotting out of moral perception by the irra-
tional one.
The perspectives that are opened up by these remarks are enormous,
and to pursue them would require an examination of the problem of
freedom of the will and Aristotlelian philosophy, an examination that
could hardly avoid the vast reaches of medieval thought which stand be-
hind Gauthier's position.80 We shall try to avoid this elaborate and con-
fused problem by setting to one side of the components of the conception
of the will which Gauthier utilizes—that of self-determination. The other
component is rational desire, and what is surprising is that this com-
ponent, too, is held by Gauthier to be lacking in Aristotle's moral psy-
s t a n d that rationalism concerning moral standards need n o t i m p l y intellectualism

in moral psychology. See "Rationalism and Intellectualism in t h e E t h i c s of Aris-
t o t l e , " Mind N . S . LI (1942), 343-60.
M
La Morale, pp. 9 2 - 9 3 .
29
Gauthier et J o l i f , L'Éthique II, p. 6 0 3 . T h i s passage w a s w r i t t e n b y Jolif,
presumably as part of a common p o s i t i o n .
30
Gauthier argues t h a t Aristotle confused s p o n t a n e i t y w i t h liberty in h i s doctrine
of t h e voluntary. See La Morale, p. 4 2 . The literature on A r i s t o t l e and free will
i s enormous. For a m o d e s t review of t h e subject see Allan, "The Practical Syllogism,"
pp. 334-36. In v i e w of t r e a t m e n t s of t h e concept of the will such h a v e been offered
b y R y l c in the Concept of Mind, the absence of the concept m a y well t e s t i f y t o philo-
sophical soundness, rather than philosophical p r i m i t i v e n e s s .
176 SOME CRITICISM
chology. This is a bewildering claim, since, presumably, precisely what

distinguishes f}ovXt]cnç and TtQoaiqeaiç, on the one hand, from èm-
Qvfiia, on the other, is that the first two are rational desires while the
latter is not. But what is lacking, says Gauthier, is not the conception
of a desire which is "reasonable," participating in reason by obedience,
but that of a desire which is rational in its essence, a desire which is an
act of reason. 31 But this is even more bewildering, since the notion of a
desire that is an act of reason is something of a contradiction in terms,
within the framework of Aristotelian functionalism. The function of
reason is to know and deliberate, and the function of the appetites is
to respond to an attractive end and move the body. It could not be the
essence of appetite to know nor the essence of reason to move the body,
although in his way Aristotle provides for a form of appetite which is
essentially related to knowledge and a form of reason which is essentially
related to movement, namely, wish and practical reason. Perhaps
Gauthier is suggesting that Aristotle lacks the conception of reason
moving the body directly, without the intervention of appetite. If this
implies that Aristotle was ignorant of the very possibility of such a view,
it is simply false. He was well aware of it and rejected it, at De Anima
433a22-23. 32
These issues lead us astray from the narrow focus we have been trying
to maintain, so let us limit our consideration of this criticism to the
moral phenomenology which we have suggested was one of Aristotle's
interests in the subject. If the interpretation of akrasia which Gauthier
proposes is that rational desire determines itself to be in alignment with
irrational desire, and if this act of will is a free decision and is, indeed,
31
La Morale, p. 24. H e refers t o Politics 1 3 3 4 b 2 0 - 2 5 for t h e doctrine t h a t desire
and w i s h are a c t s of the irrational part.
32
Gauthier m i g h t reply to t h i s v i e w t h a t h i s c o n c e p t i o n of the will is i n c o n s i s -
t e n t w i t h Aristotle's f u n c t i o n a l i s m b y s a y i n g t h a t t h i s latter is appropriate to t h e
p s y c h o l o g y presented in the De Anima, b u t n o t to the i n s t r u m e n t i s t psychology
u t i l i z e d in the ethical w r i t i n g s . T h e i m p l i c a t i o n w o u l d then be t h a t the "philosophie
p l u s évoluée de la liberté p s y c h o l o g i q u e " t o w h i c h he a p p e a l s on pp. 4 2 - 4 3 of La
Morale is i n c o n s i s t e n t w i t h the m o s t m a t u r e of A r i s t o t l e ' s p s y c h o l o g i c a l d o c t r i n e s ,
w h i c h m a y well be true. It is w o r t h n o t i n g t h a t w i t h the "hardening" of A r i s t o t l e ' s
" f u n c t i o n s " i n t o m e d i e v a l "faculties," the idea of a k i n d of desire t h a t is an act of
r e a s o n m a y m a k e s o m e sense. L a t e r m e d i e v a l t h i n k e r s a l s o proposed the i d e a of a
k i n d of k n o w l e d g e t h a t is an act of will. See C. M i c h a l s k i , "Le problème de la v o l o n t é
à O x f o r d et à P a r i s au X I V ' s i è c l e , " Studia Philosophica, II (1937), 2 3 3 - 3 6 5 .
SOME CRITICISM 177
a kind of act of reason, then it would seem t h a t akrasia is a disposition

governing deliberate action. That is, moral weakness turns out, once one
knows of the act of will involved, to be a masquerade for perversity,
and, as we are often informed, perversity was a type of moral character
unknown to Aristotle. Perversity is more blameworthy than the axoXa-
aia which Aristotle places at the bottom of the list of kinds of moral
character. (Bestiality is worse, but is not a kind of moral character.)
Again it is a question as to whether Aristotle was simply ignorant of
such a possibility, or whether he ruled it out on philosophical grounds.
Perhaps it was just because of his interest in akrasia that such a version
of the concept of the will is missing in his moral psychology, for t h a t
interest must have led him to the Protagoras. And in the Protagoras,
Plato objects to the view of the many, which is that although people
know what is best they refuse to act accordingly. In holding t h a t the
axQaTiqq acts against his ngoaigeaig, Aristotle implicitly subcribes to
Plato's objections. Again the element of remorse would seem to be
decisive, for if the morally weak man is really perverse, why should he
suffer remorse ?
But, it may be replied, if the morally weak man is not really perverse,
how is he to be distinguished from the addict, who also acts against
his principles and suffers remorse? Here we can.turn to yet another con-
ception of the will and to an analysis of moral weakness which is ex-
amined by Nowell-Smith, in a work which frequently shows its Aris-
totelian inspiration. He distinguishes three cases in which a person does
the wrong thing: (a) wickedness, in which the action is not counter to
the person's moral principles; (b) moral weakness, in which the person
knows the action to be wrong and could resist the temptation b u t does
not; and (c) addiction, in which the person knows the action to be wrong
but cannot overcome the temptation. In distinguishing between moral
weakness and addiction, one view, which Nowell-Smith himself seems
to reject because of its libertarian implications, would hold the concept
of trying to be essential. The addict fails, try as he may, while the
morally weak man fails because he does not try hard enough. The
concept of the will that is employed here is not so much that of free
decision as that of the implementation of decision through a special
kind of activity, trying or making an effort. 33 The force of this as a
33
N o w e l l - S m i t h , Ethics, pp. 265-69, 284-86, 3 0 3 - 6 . See H a m p s h i r e , Thought and
Action, p. 107, for t h e c l a i m t h a t "of t h e m a n y E n g l i s h verbs t h a t centre u p o n t h e
178 SOME CRITICISM
criticism of Aristotle would be that he does not draw such a distinction

between the morally weak person and the compulsive or addicted person.
There may be some force to this criticism. Nowell-Smith would have
the distinction between the morally weak person, on the one hand, and
the addict or compulsive, on the other, to rest ultimately on the results
of encouragement: the morally weak man needs the "confidence that
comes from knowing that others are on the side of his principles," while
the compulsive and the addict do not respond to such encouragement. 54
With the distinction drawn by these criteria, Aristotle's dxpaTifc would
correspond to the addict or compulsive, since he is pictured as already
having the maximum degree of conviction. Aristotle would condemn
the addict as having once had the formation of his addiction within
his power, and he would condemn the ¿.xQarrjg on the same grounds.
If the distinction is to be made at all, it will have to be on the basis
of the concept of trying: the morally weak man does not try, the addict
tries but fails.
There is a consideration which is relevant here, but which may not go
far toward clarifying the problem. It may seem that Aristotle lacks
the concept of trying because of certain complexities in the concept, and
when these are unraveled, it may not be so obvious that he lacks the con-
cept of the will in this form. In many situations in which it is appro-
priate to speak of a person trying to do something, what he is trying to
achieve is a goal which is separated from his starting-point by steps.
He is then said to try to achieve the goal by taking one or more pre-
liminary steps. Thus he may try to pass an examination by studying,
try to find an object by searching, and so forth. In these cases there
is some action which counts as trying, so that if a person said that he
tried to pass an examination but did not study or that he tried to find
an object but did not search, his claim would not be allowed.34 I doubt
whether the subject matter which Aristotle considers in connection with
akrasia will lend itself to this analysis. In a broad sense, we might say
that there are steps a person could take which would count as resisting
temptations such as the presence of a forbidden sweet. Thus a person
concept of the will, these verbs ' t r y ' and ' a t t e m p t ' are the most revealing and lie
nearest the centre of the c o n c e p t . "
34Ethics, p. 3 0 6 .
36This sense of the concept of trying has been developed in a paper by P e t e r
Geach. I do not know whether or not this paper has been published.
SOME CRITICISM 179
might resist the temptation to overeat by not buying more food than
he needed, or he might resist the temptation to eat the sweet by prompt-
ly leaving the vicinity. But the concept of trying seems to be subject
to a reduction to the vanishing point, for any step which counts as try-
ing can be considered in turn as a goal which the person tries to reach.
A person may try to restrain his purchases or try to leave the vicinity.
And what are the preliminary steps for these goals ? Leaving extra money
at home, taking a step toward the door. And for these? Ultimately we
must either postulate a series of unrecognizable and unspecifiable steps
or we must admit that there is a first step. If the concept of trying is
applicable to the taking of this first step, we will no longer be concerned
for trying by doing something, but for trying in some other and more
direct sense. The charge that a person did not try as hard as he might
to resist temptation can be elaborated by specifying the steps he did
not take or it can stand unelaborated, depending on which of the senses
is involved. When the temptation is before one and when yielding or
resisting is a matter of the first step, we do not say that we try or do
not try by doing something—we just try or do not try.
Now the question is whether trying in this second sense is to be under-
stood as a sui generis activity distinct from the ordinary pursuit of an
objective and the activating appetite, which are Aristotle's conceptual
equipment. There may be a temptation to think that a special activity
of execution is required if we think of a desire as a feeling. But this
does not seem to be Aristotle's conception of desire. His generic term
for appetite is ¿ipefic, which is derived from ogiyofiai, "reaching out"
after something. "Oge£is is that wanting of which Miss Anscombe has said
that the primitive sign is "trying to get."" It might well be suggested,
then, that the modern concept of trying is incorporated in the Aristotelian
concept of appetite. But the concept of trying is not merely the concept
of protopursuit—it is at least the concept of pursuit in the face of obsta-
cles. However, rather than think of pursuit which persists in the face
of obstacles as due to a special kind of obstacle-overcoming activity,
we can think of it as due to a strong and persistent desire. There is a
last prima facie difference between the concept of trying and the Aristote-
lian concept of appetite. It is sometimes held that while it is not always
in our power to want to do something, it is always within our power
84
Intention, p. 67.
180 SOME CRITICISM
to try to do something. This implies that we can try without wanting.

If trying is assimilated to certain ieatures of appetite itself, then it would
be impossible to try without wanting. I suspect that when we say t h a t
one can try without wanting, what we intend by "wanting" is some
feeling of desire, a kind of feeling which we might, for the purposes of
the argument, assimilate to one of the aspects of Aristotle's concept
of IniBvfiia. W e do not mean that in the case of trying the activity
is not directed toward an apprehended good. This aspect of the concept
of trying seems similar to Aristotle's distinction between {¡ovkrjoii
and ¿nidv/uia, then. BovX-rjan; is an active appetite that is activated
b y an opinion of the good and is distinct from the appetites of t h e
body. The question of whether we can try without wanting would then
become the question of whether we can have f}ovXr)au; without ¿m-
dvfita. One ready Aristotelian answer would be that we may have fiovXr]-
aiQ without enidvfiia but we will not succeed in moving the body without
¿niOvfiia. T h a t is, we may try without wanting but we will not succeed
without wanting.
This answer is too facile, however, and the problem that we have
laboriously constructed does have relevance to Aristotle's moral psy-
chology and to his analysis of akrasia. For trying without wanting, the
activation of ôvXrjaiq without the activation of the appropriate eni-
6v/iia is presumably just the condition of eyxgareia, moral strength
as distinguished from moral virtue. If Aristotle wishes to stress the
apprehended end in his analysis of akrasia, then he should tell us some-
where w h a t it is to resist the loss of comprehension which desire works.
His conception of {iovXr)cnq appears to be a functional generalization of
Plato's concept of dv/xot; as presented in the Republic and the Timaeus;
but in generalizing the concept of a moving faculty which is directly
responsive to reason, Aristotle seems to have omitted the role of Ov/iog
as the defender of opinion against the thievery of pleasure. We have
noticed a passage in the Eudemian Ethics in which he speaks 01 eyxgd-
reia as the preserver of practical wisdom, and it might be argued t h a t
in a very general way his whole doctrine of the development of the
moral eîg, the stable moral disposition, serves the purpose of an account
of such a role, since it is clear that Aristotle makes moral apprehension
to depend in some way on the condition of the appetitive part. B u t these
tangential considerations do not add up to a clear doctrine about firm-
ness of apprehension on given occasions. We can only say although
SOME CRITICISM 181
Aristotle offers a clear enough account of the general role of apprehension

in action, he is not as sensitive as Plato is to the need for an account of
the more specialized concept of firmness of apprehension, in the sense
of firmness of moral perception. He says more than once that desire
cannot alfect general beliefs, but in saying that desire can affect particu-
lar perceptions he does not tell us what it is for particular perceptions
to stand firm against this. In this very attenuated way, then, we may
say that the absence of the concept of the will produces a serious limita-
tion in Aristotle's analysis of akrasia. Perhaps we have here one of the
points of departure for Stoic moral psychology, but that is another story.
APPENDIX
THE AUTHORSHIP OF CHAPTER 3,

BOOK VII OF THE NICOMACHEAN ETHICS
It would not be fitting in a work devoted to Aristotle's conception of

akrasia to omit consideration of the conjectures advanced by Cook
Wilson. 1 Students of Aristotle's ethical writings have long pointed out
that they contain many puzzling irregularities: repetitions, digressions,
discontinuities, grammatical confusions, and verbal incongruities. With
most of these we are not concerned, for they make little difference to the
philosophical positions developed. 1 But Cook Wilson has constructed
an argument which does make such a difference. The argument has
two stages. In the first stage he tries to establish the existence of
parallel versions in several of the chapters of Book vii. We shall con-
sider those in chapter 3 only.
Cook Wilson divides chapter 3 into eight parts, labeled as follows:
A: 1146b8-14; A': 1146bl4-24; B1: 1146b24-27; B2: 1146b27-31; c l : 1146b
31-35; c2: 1147al0-24; D1: 1146b35-1147al0; D2: 1147a24-b9. This
leaves 1147b9-17, which he suggests should be added to D1. His position
1
Cook Wilson, Structure. The study was first issued In 1879 and then reissued
with certain revisions in 1912.
* Gauthier and Jolif take such irregulai ities seriously, printing what they take
to be revisions in small type and restoring what they take to be displaced passages.
See L'Éthique I, 184-211. Very little of philosophical significance emerges from
this reconstruction. They find 1146bl4-23 to be a second version of 1146b8-14. The
second version is only an elaboration adding an explicit mention of the distinction
between subject matter and disposition, and a reference to the deliberateness of
àxokaaia. Any possibility that the theme of deliberateness might be prominent
in revision is dispelled by the next example. This joins 1148a22-bl4, 1150a27-31,
and 1150a21-22 together as a revision of 1147b21-1148a22. Two references to delib-
erateness in the original are omitted in the revision. However, a mention of the
relation of curability to repentance is added. This comes to nothing, since repentance
and curability is the subject of 1150b29-35 in an original passage. There are a few
other minor irregularities, but they do not even promise anything.
184 APPENDIX
is t h a t B1, c l , and D1 form one sequence and B2, C2, and D2 another,
while A and A* are alternative beginnings, A will fit either of these se-
quences equally well, but A' will fit neither.* The persuasiveness of this
position can only be appreciated by marking out a text and following
the sequences. He concludes t h a t the present text of chapter 3 is the
result of compilation from at least three versions, the sequence 1, the
sequence 2, and the lost sequence to which A* is the beginning. 4 Although
in his postscript he remarks t h a t the rethinking of a subject even after
several years can yield strikingly similar expressions, he thinks that
the length and the proximity of these versions exclude the possibility
of repetition of the same train of thought at one writing. 6
All of this might well have little bearing on the philosophical dis-
cussion were it not for the fact t h a t this first stage of the argument
opens up the second. His position here is that it is not probable that
chapter 3 is by the author of either the Eudemian or the Nicomachean
Ethics. The argument is t h a t both of the versions in chapter 3 analyze
akrasia as a failure in the actualization of knowledge and thus rule out
the possibility of mental struggle as essential to the situation. Mere
potential knowledge cannot be an element in actual struggle. He con-
cludes that since the very difficulty of akrasia concerns the possibility
of such a struggle, the answer given in chapter 3 is "worse than no
answer" and is "quite unworthy of Aristotle." 4 This conclusion is sup-
ported by the fact t h a t other mentions of akrasia in the Nicomachean
Ethics imply such a struggle. 7 And other mentions of the distinction
s
Structure, pp. 19-23. The s e c t i o n s are set out in Table I at the end of the book.
4
Ibid., pp. 1-3, 22.
* Ibid., pp. 87-88.
• Ibid.,pp. 48-49. The argument concerning length and p r o x i m i t y is found on
p. 75. The authorship of chapter 3 is discussed at pp. 48-56.
7
Ibid., pp. 49-51. H e refers t o N.E. 1 1 0 2 b l 4 - 2 5 and 1166b7-10. The first passage
says that in ¿yxgdrcia and akrasia there is an element w h i c h "combats and resists"
the principle. The second speaks of the axQaxeit; as desiring one thing and w i s h i n g
another and t h u s being at variance w i t h t h e m s e l v e s . See below for an alternative
interpretation of a neighboring passage. H e also refers to De Anima 432al-blO.
T h i s must be a misprint for 4 3 3 a l - b l 0 . A t 433b5-7 is the most explicit passage:
"But cravings are opposite to each other, and t h i s happens whenever reason and
desire are contradictory (¿vavriai)" He also m e n t i o n s 4 3 4 a l 2 - 1 4 , which speaks of
one appetite controlling another in akrasia, but he d i s m i s s e s the following passage
which draws a d i s t i n c t i o n between the universal and particular practical premises in a
APPENDIX 185
between actual and potential knowledge do not use it to explain akra-

sia.8 Finally, other positions taken in Book vii itself assume the actual
opposition of reason and desire.*
Where there is so much smoke there must be some fire, but Cook
Wilson's conclusions have seemed overbold to most scholars.10 I doubt
w a y v e r y s i m i l a r t o c h a p t e r 3 of N.E. v i i . , b e c a u s e a k r a s i a is n o t e x p l i c i t l y e x p l a i n e d
t h e r e b y . Does p o s i t i o n c o u n t for n o t h i n g in d e t e r m i n i n g t h e r e l e v a n c e of a p a s s a g e ?
8
S t r u c t u r e , p . 50. H e r e f e r s t o Metaphysics 1 0 1 7 b 3 , 1048a34. In t b e s e p a s s a g e s
A r i s t o t l e is c o n c e r n e d for s t r a i g h t f o r w a r d e x a m p l e s of p o t e n t i a l i t y a n d a c t u a l i t y ,
n o t f o r r e c o n d i t e a p p l i c a t i o n s of t h e d i s t i n c t i o n . Of s o m e w h a t g r e a t e r w e i g h t is t h e
f a c t t h a t a reference t o p o t e n t i a l k n o w l e d g e a t E.E. 1 2 2 5 b l l - 1 6 f a i l s t o m e n t i o n
akrasia although t h a t has been discussed at length in t h e preceeding passages. W h a t
c o n t r o l s Cook W i l s o n ' s e m p h a s i s o n t h i s Eudemian p a s s a g e is h i s a s s u m p t i o n t h a t
"the e t h i c a l s t a n d p o i n t of t h e E u d e m i a n E t h i c s is e s s e n t i a l l y o p p o s e d t o t h a t of
S o c r a t e s . " (p. 53) H e refers t o p a s s a g e s w h i c h a t t a c k t h e S o c r a t i c d i c t u m t h a t k n o w l -
edge a l o n e is t h e s u f f i c i e n t c o n d i t i o n of v i r t u e . O n e of t h e s e is 1246a35-b35. T h e
a r g u m e n t of t h i s p a s s a g e is t h a t if v i r t u e s were k i n d s of k n o w l e d g e (¿mazij/iTj), t h e y
m i g h t be m i s u s e d . T h e p r o b l e m is o n e t h a t is r a i s e d a t 333E of t h e Republic and
is p r e s e n t t h r o u g h o u t t h e Hippias Minor. To raise it need not imply a position
" e s s e n t i a l l y o p p o s e d t o t h a t of S o c r a t e s . " I n d e e d , t h e c o n c l u s i o n of t h e Eudemian
c h a p t e r in w h i c h it is r a i s e d is t h a t " m e n a r e w i s e (tpçàvi/ioi) a n d good s i m u l t a n e o u s l y ,
. . . a n d t h e S o c r a t i c d i c t u m ' N o t h i n g is m i g h t i e r t h a n w i s d o m (tpgàvrjaiç),' is r i g h t .
B u t in t h a t b y ' w i s d o m ' he m e a n t ' k n o w l e d g e ' ( i m a x r i i i r j ) h e w a s w r o n g : f o r w i s d o m
!s a f o r m of g o o d n e s s (dgeztj), a n d is n o t s c i e n t i f i c k n o w l e d g e (¿moTjj/j?;) b u t a n o t h e r
k i n d of c o g n i t i o n ( y v w a i ; ) . " (E.E. 1246b32-36) Is t h i s " e s s e n t i a l o p p o s i t i o n t o
S o c r a t e s " ? It s e e m s r a t h e r t o b e c l a r i f i c a t i o n w i t h a v i e w t o a g r e e m e n t .
• Structure, p. 54. H e c i t e s 1 1 4 5 b 2 I - 1 1 4 6 a 4 , w h i c h e x c l u d e s t h e o p p o s i t i o n of
weak o p i n i o n ; 1 1 5 0 b l 9 - 2 8 , wliich d i s t i n g u i s h e s b e t w e e n a k r a s i a as i m p e t u o u s n e s s
a n d a k r a s i a as w e a k n e s s b y t h e c r i t e r i o n of d e l i b e r a t i o n , a n d s e v e r a l p a s s a g e s in
which the language would seem t o imply actual o p p o s i t i o n .
10
G r a n t m e n t i o n s t h e p o s i t i o n , b u t does n o t t a k e c o g n i z a n c e of it in t h e f i r s t
essay n o r t h e a p p r o p r i a t e n o t e s . See The Ethics o/ Aristotle I, x x i i . S t e w a r t d o e s
t a k e t h e p o s i t i o n seriously a n d c a r r i e s o n a r u n n i n g e v a l u a t i o n . See Notes II, 116-216.
B u r n e t m e n t i o n s Cook W i l s o n , b u t c l a i m s h e c a n s h o w t h a t i n t e r p r e t i n g t h e t e x t
t h r o u g h t h e d i a l e c t i c a l TOTIOI can a v o i d h i s p r o b l e m s . W h i l e B u r n e t o f t e n c o m m e n t s
on t h e m o v e m e n t of t h e a r g u m e n t , I c a n n o t f i n d t h a t h e m a k e s a n y e x p l i c i t e f f o r t t o
m a k e good t h i s p a r t i c u l a r c l a i m in h i s n o t e s . See The Ethics, p p . x v i - x v i i , 288-329.
There is a very brief d i s c u s s i o n on p p . 297-98. J o a c h i m a n d R o b i n s o n are i n n o c e n t
of these k i n d s of p r o b l e m s , a n d D i r l m e i e r reserves t h e m for a n o t h e r o c c a s i o n . See
Sikomachische Ethik, p . 254. G a u t h i e r a n d J o l i f p r e s e n t Cook W i l s o n ' s case a n d a
version of B u r n e t ' s r e j e c t i o n . T h e y a d d t h a t A r i s t o t l e could n o t do j u s t i c e t o t h e
element of conflict in a k r a s i a b e c a u s e he lacked t h e c o n c e p t of t h e w i l l . See L'Éthique
I I , 602, 603.
186 APPENDIX
that his two arguments stand in close harmony. It may be probable

that the present text was compiled out of Aristotelian originals, but is it
probable that the doctrine of a peripatetic of the third generation (for
Cook Wilson excludes Eudemus as well) should likewise be copied into
the text in two versions? 11 But is the evidence conclusive for compi-
lation of the magnitude asserted by Cook Wilson? Stewart admits the
distinction between A and A ' and thinks that B1 and B2 may be paral-
lels. But he finds c2 to fit its present position after D1 and cannot see
that D2 is a proper parallel to D1 because of the extensive additions in D2.
He concludes that the interruption of the treatment of the practical syllo-
gism by c2 is some evidence for confusion in the structure of the chap-
ter. 11 I think that the only serious difficulty concerns the position of
c2; and if this is considered as an afterthought, then the brief review of
the practical syllogism in the second sentence of D2 would be appropriate,
returning to the line of thought begun at D1. Certainly the Aristotelian
Corpus is littered with similar digressions, and they can be explained as
well by the hypothesis that they are due to the relative spontaneity of
the lecture form or by the hypothesis of the accumulation of notes
and partial revisions in an unfinished manuscript as by the hypothesis of
compilation.1*
The argument for compilation, then, does not strengthen the argu-
ment against Aristotelian authorship, which must be considered on its
own merits. Cook Wilson himself notes that inconsistency alone is no
proof of diversity of authorship, especially when a thinker is exploring a
problem which challenges the very limits of his assumptions.14 As the
u
The suggestion of Grayeff that original material by Aristotle was developed
b y bis successors in the Peripatetic schools of Athens, Rhodes, and possibly A l e x a n -
dria, and that all these versions were collected and edited by Andronicus of R h o d e s
opens up quite different possibilities here. Grayeff carries through a sample of t h e
kind of analysis that would be required, drawing from the Poetics. All I can s a y
to t h i s is that i t is so far from the beaten track that it is at once quite s u g g e s t i v e
and quite difficult t o evaluate. See F. Grayeff, "The Problem of the Genesis of
Aristotle's Text," Phronesis, I (1956), 105-22.
18
Notes II, 141-42.
18
Cook W i l s o n rejects the lecture-note h y p o t h e s i s in all versions. He considers
the possibility of repetitions in recasting, and the disruption that afterthoughts can
work in an original plan. H e does not consider the bearing of these possibilities on
his original analysis. See his postcript at pp. 87-95, Structure.
14
Ibid., pp. 88-89. H e mentions that certain kinds of inconsistency are rather
testimony to unity of authorship, and mentions the cases of ngoalgeoti; and <pg6-
APPENDIX 187
auioqiai in Book vii, the searching and inconclusive analysis in Book ii

of the Eudemian Ethics, and the obscurity of the relevant passages
in the De Anima show, akrasia was just such a problem for Aristotle.
Our introductory historical review should reveal a similar challenge that
the problem presented to Plato and the variety of responses he evolved
to deal with various aspects of it. Why should Aristotle be credited with
less challenge and less variety? 1 4
True as all this may be, there is another possibility which is attractive
because of its very simplicity. This is the possibility that what Cook Wil-
son regards as inconsistency was not so regarded by Aristotle at all. It
may be possible that he regarded ignorance as the outcome of struggle,
and was more interested in the ignorance, because of its relation to the
celebrated Socratic position. There is some indication of this kind of
assumption regarding the temporal quality of akrasia in the statement of
the Socratic dnogia:
If failure of self-restraint is caused by ignorance, we must examine what
sort of ignorance it is. For it is clear that the man who fails in self-restraint
does not think the action right before he comes under the influence of
passion. (N.E. 1145b28-31)
More interesting in this connection are two passages, one from the Nico-
machean and the other from the Eudemian Ethics. The first indicates
vrjaa;. W h a t h e says t h e r e a b o u t ngoaigeoig could e q u a l l y well b e s a i d a b o u t a k r a s i a ,

w h i c h i s p a r t of t h a t genera] s u b j e c t : t h a t a n y i n c o n s i s t e n c i e s t h e r e m a y be A r i s t o t l e
was led t o q u i t e n a t u r a l l y , t h r o u g h d i f f i c u l t i e s i n h e r e n t in t h e s u b j e c t w h i c h e m e r g e
in t h e a t t e m p t t o b e p r e c i s e , a n d w h i c h h a v e p r o d u c e d s i m i l a r e f f e c t s in m o d e r n
moral philosophy; and t h a t "when a m a n tries to define precisely a conception which
h e is c o n s t a n t l y u s i n g t h e r e s u l t s h o u l d n o t be a d e q u a t e t o h i s o w n u s e of i t . " N o n e -
theless, h e r e g a r d s t h e d o c t r i n e of c h a p t e r 3 as a "grave l a p s e " a n d is n o t p r e p a r e d t o
say t h a t A r i s t o t l e could h a v e g o n e so f a r in i n c o n s i s t e n c y . R i t c h i e h a s an a m u s i n g
r e m a r k w h i c h is a p r o p o s : "If t h e c a n o n s of o r d e r l y e x p o s i t i o n , w h i c h some scholars
a p p l y t o t h e A r i s t o t e l i a n w r i t i n g s , were a p p l i e d t o K a n t ' s Critiques, t h e s e w o u l d
r e q u i r e t o be largely r e w r i t t e n a n d g r e a t p o r t i o n s would t o h a v e be r e j e c t e d a s s p u r i -
o u s . " See " A r i s t o t l e ' s E x p l a n a t i o n of Axgaaia," Mind, N . S . V I (1897), 539.
15
T h e r e is a h i n t of t h i s a p p r o a c h on p . 50, Structure, w h e r e Cook W i l s o n m e n t i o n s
t h e l a t e n t c o n t r a d i c t i o n in t h e u n c o n s c i o u s p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n of reason a n d a p p e t i t e
in e a r l y a n d p o p u l a r p s y c h o l o g y . A feeling of t h e c o n t r a d i c t i o n i n v o l v e d m i g h t
h a v e led a " p h i l o s o p h e r of less a c u t e n e s s t h a n A r i s t o t l e t o t h e t h e o r y of p o t e n t i a l
k n o w l e d g e , b u t A r i s t o t l e could scarcely h a v e allowed an a n s w e r so i n c o n s i s t e n t w i t h
t h e i n s i g h t i n t o t h e m e n t a l s t r u g g l e s h o w n b y N i c . E t h . I x i i i . 15-16;. . . " W h a t
would Cook W i l s o n h a v e m a d e of P l a t o ' s " i n c o n s i s t e n c i e s " o n t h e s u b j e c t ?
188 APPENDIX
a sensitivity to change in relation to apparent impossibilities, and the

second says pretty much what we want here. Unfortunately, the bearing
of the second is inconclusive, because it is a report on "what is said"
rather than a statement of what Aristotle holds. The first passage oc-
curs after a mention of the fact that the axgarrig is at variance with
himself, desiring one thing and willing another, and a discussion of the
parallel situation of the cowardly, lazy, and criminal.
Hence such men do not enter into their own joys and sorrows, as there
is civil war in their souls; owing to their depravity, one part of their
nature is pained by abstinence from certain indulgences while another
part is pleased by it; one part drags them one way and another the
other, like a puppet pulled by strings. Or if it be impossible to feel pain
and pleasure at the same time, at all events after indulging in pleasure
they regret it a little later, and wish they had never acquired a taste
for such indulgences; since the bad are always changing their minds.
(N.E. 1166bl8-25)
T h e second passage occurs in the course of an examination of the argu-

ment that virtue cannot be knowledge, for then it could be misused.
It is noted that no higher knowledge exists which could divert such
knowledge, nor could goodness.
Who then is there in whom this occurs? or is it in the same way as the
vice of the irrational part of the spirit is termed lack of control (axgaaia),
and the uncontrolled man is in a manner profligate—possessing reason,
but ultimately (fjdrj) if his appetite is powerful it will turn him round,
and he will draw the opposite inference? 18
On the strength of these passages I suggest that Aristotle might not

have considered struggle and ignorance to be two contradictory descrip-
tions of akrasia, but successive phases in it, and that when examining
the Socratic denial of akrasia he was concerned for what would be rele-
vant to that denial, namely, the ignorance. This would not at all rule
out an interest in the struggle in other contexts.
la E.E. 1246bl2-15. Solomon, in the Oxford translation, does not stress the tem-
poral quality of fjdr]; "The incontinent man is in a sense intemperate: he has reason,
but supposing appetite to be strong it will twist him and he will draw the opposite
conclusion." T h e forcc of the passage remains the same, however, and Solomon's
translation, in l i f t i n g this assertion from the hypothetical context, strengthens it.
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Republic. Translated by P. Shorey. 2 vols. Loeb Classical Library,
Sophist. Translated by H. N. Fowler. Loeb Classical Library,
Statesman. Translated by H. N. Fowler. Loeb Classical Library,
Rabinowitz, W. G. "Aristotle's Protrepticus and the Sources of its
Reconstruction I." University of California Publications in Classical
Philology, XVI (1957).
Randall, J. H., Jr. Aristotle. New York, Columbia University Press, 1960.
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Rees, D. A. "Some Aspects of Aristotle's Development," Actes du XI*

Congrès International de Philosophie, X I I . Amsterdam, North-Hol-
land Publishing Company, 1953, 83-85.
Ritchie, O. G. "Aristotle's Explanation of Axçaaia," Mind, N.S.
VI (1897), 536-41.
Robinson, R. "L'acrasie selon Aristote," Revue Philosophique, CXLV
(1955), 261-80.
Ross, W. D. Aristotle. New York, Meridian Books, Inc., 1959.
Ryle, G. Dilemmas. Cambridge, Cambridge University Press, 1954.
The Concept of Mind. London, Hutchinson's University Library,
1949.
Snell, B. " Das frühste Zeugnis über Sokrates," Philologus, XCVII (1948),
125-34.
u Die Ausdrücke für den Begriff des Wissens in der vorplatonischen
Philosophie." Philologische Untersuchungen, X X I X (1924).

The Discovery of the Mind. Translated by T. G. Rosenmeyer.
Oxford, Basil Blackwell, 1953.
Stewart, J . A. Notes on the Nicomachean Ethics of Aristotle. 2 vols.
Oxford, The Clarendon Press, 1892.
Tenkku, J . The Evaluation of Pleasure in Plato's Ethics. "Acta Phi-
losophica Fennica," X I (1956). Helsinki, Societas Philosophica.
Xenophon. Memorabilia. Translated by E. C. Marchant. Loeb Clas-
sical Library, London, William Heinemann Ltd., 1953.
INDEX
Action (.-redfic). 133-34, 136n, 146, in Nicomachean Ethics, 85-87, P l a -

158/i; as d o i n g , 14; of the m o r a l l y tonic origin of, 8 6 - 8 7 ; n o r m a l i t y as
w e a k man, 104-6 A r i s t o t l e ' s criterion of, 90-91, 117;
A c t i o n , g o o d (EUJIgafia), 146^17, 154, Aristotle's concept of, 9 4 - 9 5 ; So-
158/1 cratic p r o b l e m in, 97-106; and t h e
A e s c h y l u s ; t h e m e of decision in, 4 - 5 ; voluntary, 112-17; and ignorance,
Agamemnon, 4; Eumenides, 4; Liba- 114-16; i n t e r p r e t a t i o n s of t h e A r i s -
tion Bearers, 4; Oresteia, 4-5; Sup- totelian d o c t r i n e of, 118-58; criti-
pliants, 4 cisms of the Aristotelian doctrine
"Ayvota ( i g n o r a n c e ) , 43-44, 55, 115 of, 159-81
Aidu)5 ( r e v e r e n c e ) , 51 'Axgareia (incontinence), 52
Atgeots (decision), 5 Alexander of Aphrodisias, 94
Atadtjai; ( p e r c e p t i o n , sensation), 139- Allan, D. J., 131/1, 144/1, 175n; on
41 Aristotle's view of reason and ac-
A i a x v v r j ( s h a m e ) , 51 tion, 124-27; on t w o functions of
'AxoXaaia (incorrigibility), 92, 151- reason, 132; on t h e p r a c t i c a l i t y of
53, 177; and akrasia, 61 practical reason, 136—42
'Axgaaia, see A k r a s i a 'A/iaOia ( i g n o r a n c e ) , 43- <4, 55-57
Akrasia (axgaaia: moral weakness, Anaxagoras, 6
weakness of w i l l , incontinence, pow- A n d o , T . , 102/1, 114, 116/1, 122n, 131/1,

erlessncss), 150-58, 169-70, 173- 145n, 174n; on p a r t s of the soul,
81; Aristotle's treatment of, 1 f f . ; 82/i; on division of a p p e t i t e , 88/i;
Socratic denial of, 4 - 2 7 ; and wis- on moral strength, 94n; on the
dom, 15; in E u r i p i d e s , 16-22; ig- suppressed p r e m i s e in the A r i s t o t e -
norance as, 24, 27, 3 3 , 42; reason lian syllogism, 108-9; on the op-
c o e x i s t e n t w i t h , 27; P l a t o ' s t h o u g h t posed premises, 111 and n; on
on, c o g n i t i v i s t stage, 28, 30-33, 71 gaîg, 134n; on j r g a f i ; and noirj-
psychological stage, 28-29, 33-52, atg, 136n; on f a i l u r e of k n o w l e d g e ,
habituation stage, 29, 52-58; dis- 149; on the vicious man, 154 and n
cussion of in Nicomacheari Ethics: 'AvSgeta ( c o u r a g e ) , 42, 46-52, 133
authorship, 60, 1 8 3 - 8 8 ; Aristotle's A n g e r (dvfiog), 18-19, 35, 37-42, 45,
various t r e a t m e n t s o f : chronological 50-51, 87n, 132-33 and n
relationship, 60 f f . , psychological A n s c o m b e , G. l i . M . , 103/); on prac-
relationship, 60, 74 f f . ; as a term, tical reasoning, 148-49; on oblige
Aiistotle's use o f , 6 0 - 6 2 ; political, tion, 155 and n; on mistake in
62/i; in A r i s t o t l e ' s Rhetoric, 62n; in p e r f o r m a n c e , 173; on a p p e t i t e and
A r i s t o t l e ' s De Anima, 62n, 150-51, t r y i n g , 179
157; physiological aspects, 71-72; A n t i s t h e n e s , 16/1
A r i s t o t l e ' s six questions concerning,
Appetite(s) (opffic), 35-6, 112, 135,
194 INDEX
Appetite(s) (continued) Badness, in men, cause and cure, 5 2 -

146, 150 58; in akrasia, 29, 33 ft.; 53
as dangerous, 40; Aristotle's divi- Belief, 56
sion of, 88 ff.; conflict of, as akrasia, Bonitz, H . , 83n, 125n
123-28; implied in assent to major BoMrjaa; (wish), 88-89, 125, 137, 142,
premise of practical syllogism, 137 174, 176; Aristotle's concept of,
ff.; and trying, 179 180
'Aq£tti (virtue), 9-10 Brandt, R. B., 13n
Aristotle, works: De Anima, 60, 62n, Brenner, C., 164n
70 and n, 71, 74, 77-78 and n, 80 Burnet, J . , 59, 71n, 96n, 99n, l l l n ,
and n, 82, 83, 90-91, 100-1, 103-4, 147n, 185n; on N. E. 1147b6-8, 71n;
106, 107n, 114, 117, 120, 125, 151n, on the dialectical method, 75n; on
155-57, 176, 184n; quoted, 72, 73, Aristotle's analysis of akrasia, 119;
79, 81, 123-24, 126, 127, 130, 141, on didvoia, 139
150, 151n; De Generatione Anima-
lium, 61n; De Motu Animalium, 69, Calculation, 56
73, 74, 78n, 83, 102n, 107n, 116n, Cause(s), primary, 37; accessory, 3 7 -
123, 124n, 131, 141, 143; De Par- 38
tibus Animalium, 69-70, 78n; De Children, education of, 54-55
Somno el Vigilia, 123; quoted, 122; Choice (ngoatgeaig), 64, 130, 135;
Eudemian Ethics, 7, 60, 61n, 6 2 - Aristotle's concept of, 7
71, 83, 85, 36n, 91, 93, 96n, 98, 112 Cicero, 133n
ff., 167, 180, 184, 185n; quoted, 64, Cleverness, 145—46, 154n; and prac-
113-14, 121, 156n, 188; Magna Mo- tical wisdom, 128-29
ralia, 61n, 173n; Metaphysics, 68; Comedy, in Plato's Protagoras, 26
Nicomachean Ethics, 1, 3, 7, 60, Conflict ((Trafftf), 34, 41-42, 56, 58,
61n, 62-71, 76-7, 83, 85, 86n, 98, 167; motivational, in Euripides, 16-
136, 152n, 155, 157-58; quoted, 61, 22; in the Sophist, 44; in the Laws,
68, 82, 90, 101-2, 105, 116, 121, 49-51; absence in Aristotle's anal-
128, 129, 130, 132, 133-4, 138-39, ysis of akrasia, 184-85, 187-88
139-40, 14«, 151n, 153, 154, 187, Control, 64; of appetites, 39 ff.
188; see also Akrasia: discussion of Cook Wilson, J . , lOln, 121, 123 and
in Nicomachean Ethics: authorship; n; on authorship of N. E. vii. 3,
Physics, 122n; Politics, 62n, 63n, 60, 65, 183-88; on 6vfiós, 87/i; on
176n; Politicus, 133n; Prolrepticus, endurance, 95n; on Aristotle and
66-69, 93n; Rhetoric, 62n, 88n, 125 the Socratic problem of akrasia, 97
and n, 151n Cornford, F. M., on obscurity of Ti-
Assent, to moral principle, concept maeus 71A-E, 39n; on Timaeus
of, 170 ff. 227E-228E, 43n; on Plato's dis-
'Aadiveia (weakness), 95 tinction between vice and ignorance,
Austin, J . L., on succumbing to 44
t e m p t a t i o n and loss of control, 104- Courage (ávógeta), 42, 46-52, 133
5; on moral weakness and loss of Craftsmanhip ( t ¿ x v t f ) , 10-11
control in Aristotelian thought, Croissant, J . , 95/i
158
INDEX 195
Decision (algesic), 5; J « also Choice quoted, 17; psychological realism

Definition (Xdyos), 80-82 of, 16, 22, 27, 33; on limitations of
Desire (imOvfila), 35-36, 64, 88-89; reason, 21-22; and Plato, 57
sophistry of, 150-58; see also Ap- Evil(s) (xaxd), 20
petite Experience, divisions of, 36
De Vogel, C. J., 134n; on ngdiis,
13171 Fairbrother, W . H . , lOO/i, 105n, 124n,
Jidvoia (discursive reasoning), 108, 155n; on Aristotle and the Socratlc
139, 146, 161, 163 problem of akrasia, 97n; on the
Diogenes of Apollonia, 7 In opposed premises, llOn; on Aris-
Dirlmeier, F., 59, 75n, 147n, 185n; on totle's analysis of akrasia, 119n
N.E. 1147b6-8, 7In Faith (niartç), 12-13 and n
Discursive reasoning, see Reasoning, Festivity, and character, 48
discursive Fury (dv/iàç), 18-19
Dispositions: moral, Aristotle's types
of, 90-97; and occurrences, 163-64 Gauthier, R . A . , 3, 5n, 69, 71n, 97
Dodds, E. R.,on verbs of knowing, 9n; and n, 13In, 134n; on bipartite
on Greek view of character and psychology, 75 and n; on division
knowledge, 14; on dialogue of So- of appetite, 88; on quality of ap-
crates and Euripides, 17n; on Eu- petite, 89n; on moral strength, 95
ripides, 20/i and n; on the voluntary, 116n;
Doing (ngdf»f), 14 on the practicaltiy of practical
Doing well (evnga(ta), 13-14 reason, 135-36, 142-43; on obliga-
Double-version theory, see Reason, tion In Aristotle, 155 and n; on
practical, two functions of Aristotle as optimistic moralist,
Drunkenness, and ignorance, 115-16 174 f f .
Gauthier, R . A . , and Jolif, J. Y . , 3,
Education (natdeta), Plato's methods, 5/i, 66, 7In, 88n, 131n, 175n, 185n;
53 ff. on disputed books, 63n; on N. E.
'Eyxgateia (self-control; moral vii. 1-10, 65n; critical of Jaeger,
strength), 15, 34n, 64-65, 96n, 112 68n, 69n; on chronology, 70n; on
ff., 123, 135-36, 180, 184/1 Burnet, 75n; on bipartite psy-
Endurance (xagregt'a), 95-96 chology, 75; on textual irregulari-
'EmoTrj/it] (science), 9-10, 12-13, 98, ties, 183n
104, 139 Geach, P., 178n
'Emdvfiia (desire), 88-89, 163, 176; Gentleness, 47-48
Aristotle's concept of, 180 rvca/iT] (judgment), In Euripides' Hip-
EvSaiftovia (happiness), Aristotle's polytus, 19-20
concept of, 146-47 Good(s), human and divine, 48; high-
Eudoxus, 155/1 est, 50
Evngatia (doing well; good action), Gould, J., 12-14, 55n; on inicnrinT),
13-14, 154, 158n; Aristotle's con- 9; on igcoç, 41 n
cept of, 146-47 Grant, A., 96n, 103/i, 174n, 185/i;
Euripides, 160; Hippolylus, 16-22, on N.E. 1147b6-8, 71n; on N.E.
quoted, 17-18; Medea, 16-22, 1146b35-1147a7, 102n
1% INDEX
G r a n t , C. K . , on p e r f o r m a n c e crite- o n f a i l u r e of k n o w l e d g e in a k r a s i a ,
r i o n , 169n 1 0 7 - 8 ; on " c o n s t i t u e n t m e a n s , " 148;
G r a y e f f , F . , 186n o n t h e incorrigible m a n , 152n
G r i f f i n , A. K . , 174n J u d g m e n t (yvuifit)), 1 9 - 2 0 ; see also
G y m n a s t i c s , 42 Knowledge
H a c k f o r t h , R . , on reason, 43-44 and K a h n , C., 72n

n Kaxa (evils; sorrows), 2 0
H a m p s h i r e , S., on will, 177n Kagxegia (endurance), 95-96
H a p p i n e s s (evdaifiovta), 146-47 K i e r k e g a a r d , S . , 12 a n d n
H a r d i e , W . F . R . , on p a r t s of t h e K i t t , H . D. F . , on E u r i p i d e s ' Medea,
soul, 34n, 1 6 5 - 6 7 ; on dvfidg, 41/1 17n
H a r e , R . M., on t h e l a n g u a g e of " K n o w i n g h o w , " 9, lOn, 13, 14
morals, 168-69 " K n o w i n g t h a t , " 9, lOn, 13, 14
H e d o n i s m , 2 4 - 2 7 ; see also Illusion, " K n o w i n g w h a t , " 14
hedonlc K n o w l e d g e , 9 - 1 0 , 2 3 - 2 7 , 3 0 - 3 1 , 33,
H o m e r , a n d decision, 5n 56, 58, 99; S o c r a t i c c o n c e p t of, 8;
H o r s b u r g h , H . J . N . , on t h e p r a c t i c a l p r a c t i c a l a n d t h e o r e t i c a l , lack of
i m p o r t c r i t e r i o n , 169-71 distinction between, 14-15; having
Hypocrisy, 169-70 a n d exercising, 99-101
K u l l m a n n , E . , on decision, 5 a n d n
I g n o r a n c e (a-yvota; afiaOia), 55-57;
a n d m a d n e s s , 1 4 - 1 5 ; in a k r a s i a , Lee, H . D . , 36n
2 4 - 2 5 ; divisions of, 4 3 - 4 4 ; r e m e d i e s Leontius, 35-35
f o r , 57; a n d i n v o l u n t a r y a c t i o n , L i e b e r g , G., on d i s p u t e d b o o k s , 63n
114-16 Adyoc (definition; principle; reason;
Illusion, h e d o n i c , 31-33 rule), 43, 56, 7 9 - 8 2 , 90, 98, 133,
I m a g i n a t i o n (tpavraoia), in a k r a s i a , 152n; A r i s t o t l e ' s c o n c e p t of, 1 4 6 - 4 8
124-27 L u c k (Tvxt]), 14
I m p e r a t i v e , m a j o r p r e m i s e of p r a c t i c a l
syllogism as, 138 Madness, and ignorance, 14-15
I m p e t u o u s n e s s (ngoneTEia), 95 MaXaxia (softness), 96 a n d n
I n c o n t i n e n c e ( a x g d r e u j ) , 52; see also M a r r i a g e , 52 a n d n
Akrasia M a y o , B . , 169n; on t h e " p a r a - p o l i t i c a l
I n c o r r i g i b i l i t y (axoXaaia), 61,92, 151- m y t h , " 1 6 2 - 6 5 ; on o c c u r r e n c e s a n d
53 d i s p o s i t i o n s , 163-64
I n f a n t s , e d u c a t i o n of, 54 Means, p r a c t i c a l , in p r a c t i c a l w i s d o m ,
Intelligence, 23-27 144-49
M e a n s - e n d f u n c t i o n of p r a c t i c a l rea-
J a c k s o n , R . , 174/1; on A r i s t o t l e ' s view son, 131-35
of i g n o r a n c e in a k r a s i a , 115n M e d e a , 17-21, 3 3
J a e g e r , W . , on ¡pgdvTjaa;, 6 6 - 6 7 , 84; M e t a - e t h i c s , 12
on t h e d i s p u t e d books, 6 8 - 6 9 Method, functional, in Aristotle's
J a s o n , 20 thought, 1 4 2 ^ 3
J o a c h i m , H . H . , 185n; on dv/iOi, 87n; Michalski, C., 176n
INDEX 197
" M i s t a k e in p e r f o r m a n c e , " 173 43, 44/1., 4 5 - 4 6 , 57-59, 86, 89, 94,

Moral s t r e n g t h , see S t r e n g t h , m o r a l q u o t e d , 6, 3 8 , 4 8 - 5 6 ; Meno, 31, 42,
M o r a l weakness, see A k r a s i a q u o t e d , 30; Phaedo, 7, 49/1, 51/1, 59,
q u o t e d , 6, 3 2 ; Phaedrus, 31, 32,34/1,
Noncognitlvism, 137 40, 41, 57, 137; Philebus, 27, 3 3 n ,
N o w e l l - S m i t h , P . H . , 153n, o n moral 37, 40, 58, 66, quoted, 31-32;
weakness, 177-78 Protagoras, 7, 8n, 16/i, 28, 3 0 and
N u y e n s , F . , 66, 75, 78n, 83; on A r i s - n, 31, 3 2 , 35, 41, 43, 46, 49n, 52,
totelian chronology, 69-74 56 and n, 57, 59, 86, 98n, 151, 155,
177; denial of akrasia in, 22-27,
O b j e c t s of sense, A r i s t o t l e ' s divisions q u o t e d , P, 24-25; Republic, 26, 30
of, 126-27 and n, 31, 33 and n, 35, 38, 4 0 - 4 4
Occurrences, and dispositions, 163-64 and n, 4 5 - 4 8 , 50-53 and n, 54, 57,
O p i n i o n , in akrasia, 29, 30-31, 56n, 76n, 8 2 - 8 3 , 94, 180, 185n, q u o t e d ,
58, 99, 125 34, 36; Sophist, 3On, 44, 45, 56,
Orestes, 4 q u o t e d , 4 2 - 4 3 ; Statesman, 38, 45-

47 and n, 48, 51-52, 93n; Sympo-
" O e e b s ( a p p e t i t e ) , 112, 135, 139, 146,
sium, 26, 36n, 41n, 57; Theatetus,
150-158, 179
119; Timaeus, 30n, 3 2 and n, 3 3 n ,
IJaiSeia ( e d u c a t i o n ) , 53 f f . ; A r i s t o t l e ' s 36/1, 38, 40, 41, 44, 51, 58, 76n,
c o n c e p t o f , 119 124n, 165/1, 180, q u o t e d , 39, 52-
"Para-political m y t h , " 162-67 53
P a r t s of soul, p s y c h o l o g y o f : in Ni- Pleasure: i m p o r t a n c e of, 2 5 - 2 6 ; and

comachean Ethics, 76-77; In De opinion, 31-32; kinds o f , 71; sources
Anima, 77-82 of, A r i s t o t l e ' s t w o t y p e s , 8 7 f f . ; a n d
Passion (Ovfiig), 88; and wisdom, pain, and conduct, 55-56
22: see also Anger; Fury; Spirit /7oiV/ct4C ( p r o d u c t i o n ) , 133-34, 136/1
Pelasgus, K i n g , 4 Powerlessness, see A k r a s i a
P e r c e p t i o n ( a l a d r j a i g ) , 1 3 9 ^ 1 , 161 Practical import criterion for moral
P e r v e r s i t y , and akrasia, 177 principles, 167-73
P h a e d r a , 17-22, 31 Practical syllogism, 102-3, 137 f f . ,
Qavraoia ( i m a g i n a t i o n ) , 124n, 125 149; and the vicious m a n , 155-56;
<Pg6vrjOii (practical wisdom; pru- and t h e m o r a l l y w e a k man, 156-58
dence), 51, 66-69, 84, 86, 98, 161 Practical wisdom (tpgdvrjou;), 6 6 - 6 8 ,
<t>vatxd>g, 99, 99-100/1 128-44; means in, 144 f f . ; and
m a r i s ( f a i t h ) , 12-13 a n d n akrasia, 149-50; see also Reason,
Plato, 16, 76n, 78, 102, 104, 134/1, practical
1 6 2 - 6 3 , 165-67, 180, 187; on choice IJea$tg ( a c t i o n ; doing), 14, 81, 131n,
6 - 7 ; on c r a f t s m a n s h i p , 10-11; and 133-34, 136n, 147n, 149, 158n
ethical t h e o r y , 12; d e v e l o p m e n t of Premise, suppressed, in the Aristo-
t h o u g h t on akrasia, 2 8 - 5 9 ; works: telian syllogism, 106-9
Cratylus, 40; Gorgias, 26, 30n, 3 3 n , Premises, universal, opposition of,
40, 55n; Hippias Minor, 185n; 109-11
Laches, 98n, quoted, 8; Laws, 7, P r i n c i p l e (Xdyog), 146-48
26-28, 30n, 3 2 and n, 37, 40, 42n, nQoaigeaa; (choice; decision), 5, 7,
198 INDEX
UgoaÎQeau;-. (continued) Self-control, see Strength, moral

88, 115, 134, 135, 145, 154, 156, 174, Self-indulgence, see Incorrigibility
176, 177, 187n Seneca, 133n
Prodlcus, 12 Shame (alaxvvrj), 51
Production (7ioir;aiî), 133-34, 136/1 Sleep, 122-23
Profligacy, see Incorrigibility Smith, M., 19/i
Tlgonéreia (impetuousness), 95 Snell, B . , 18/i, 19n; on decision, 4 - 5 ;
Prudence, see Practical wisdom on knowledge, 9n; on dialogue of
Psychology: moral and scientific, in Socrates and Euripides, 16n
Aristotle, 74 ff.; "bipartite" in Socrates, 1-2, 5, 7, 44, 57-58, 159-
Aristotle, 75n 60, 167, 185/i; his denial of akrasia,
4 - 1 6 , 2 2 - 2 7 ; on choice, 5 - 6 ; and
Rabinowitz, W. G., 68/i craftsmen, 1 1 - 1 2 ; and wisdom, 12-
Randall, J . H., J r . , 143n; on <pvai- 13; Aristotle and, 97-99, 104, 109
xtûç, lOO/i Softness (flaXaxia), 96
Reason, 37 ff., 56; limitations of, 21; Sommers, F . , 147/i
failure of, 43-44; Xôyoç as, 146- Sorrow(s) (xaxa), 20
48; and passion, 163 Soul: parts of, 35 ff., 76 ff., 113-14,
Reason, practical: and Socratlc wis- 162-67; movements of, 38; and
dom, 8 - 1 5 ; Aristotle's concept of, body, Aristotle's doctrine of, 6 9 -
128-14, 159 ff.; two functions of, 70; instrumentist vocabulary in
131-35; practicality of, 135--14; Aristotle's discussion of, 72-74;
means in, 144 ff. unity of, 7 8 - 7 9
Reasoning, discursive (ôidvoia), 108, Spirit (dvfidg), in akrasia, 29; in man,
139, 161 38, 4 8 - 4 9 ; in the soul, 39
Reasoning, universal and particular Zraaig (conflict; struggle), 42-43, 51,
premises in, 99, 102-3, 106-9 56, 167; of courage and temperance,
Rees, D. A., on moral and scientific 46—47
psychology in Aristotle, 74/i, 75 Stewart, J . A., 96/i, 97/i, lOln, 102/1,
Responsibility, moral, 162 ff. 104n, 108/1, 147/1, 186n; on N.E.
Reverence (alâwç), 51 1147b6-8, 71n; on <pvaixd>g, lOO/i;
Ritchie, D. G., 97n, lOO/i, 187/1 on the opposed premises, 110-11;
Robinson, R . , 99n, 185/i; on absurd- on practical premises, 135n; on the
ities, 102/i; on Aristotle's analysis vicious man, 154 and n
of akrasia, 119-22; on the incor- Strength, moral (eyxgareia), 15, 34/1,
rigible man, 152-53/1 9 2 - 9 5 , 112 ff., 123
Ross, W. D., 108n; on Aristotle's Struggle, see Conflict
view of ignorance in akrasia, 115n; Zvveois (understanding), 101, 161,
on weakness of will, 173-74 173
Rule (Aàyoç), 146-48 Syllogism, and action, Aristotle's con-
Rule-example function of practical cept of, 159 ff.
reason, 131-35
Ryle, Gilbert, 9, 162, 175n Tixvrj (craftsmanship), 10-11, 134
Temperance (auxpQoavvq), 46-52, 9 1 -
Science (IniOTrmrj), 98, 139 92, 93-94
INDEX 199
Tenkku, J . , 25n Weakness, moral, see Akrasia

dvftdf (anger; fury; passion; spirit), Weakness of will, see Akrasia
18-19, 56n, 86, 87n, 88, 132-33, Wickedness, see Incorrigibility
180; role of, 37-40; importance of, Will; and dvp¿g, 37-38; 173-81
40-41; and reason, 41, 50-51, 117; Wisdom, 49; and passion, 22; see also
and ignorance, 42 Reason, practical, and Practical
Trying, concept of, 178-80 wisdom
TvXv (luck), 14 Wish (fiovXtjaii), 88, 130, 137; and
desire, 150-51
Understanding (avveai?), 101, 161
Xenocrates, 64n, 75n, 112n
Vice, 153-56; see also Incorrigibility Xenophon, 5-8, 10 and n, 13, 16, 22;
Virtue (dgertj), 7, 9-10, 49, 91-95, on virtue and knowledge, 10; on
129 and it, 145 iyxgdreia, 15-16n; on Socrates, 15-
16, 109; Memorabilia, quoted, 5,
W a n t i n g , concept of, 178-80 8, 11-12, 14, 15

Aristotle's Conception of Moral Weakness

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Aristotle's Conception of Moral Weakness

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Aristotle's Conception

James Jerome Walsh

Columbia University Press

Copyright © 1960 Columbia University Press

Finally, I wish to acknowledge the help of my wife, not only for

l-'ull publication data is given in the bibliography.

Allan, "Aristotle's A c c o u n t " D. J. Allan, "Aristotle's Account of the

The good that I would do I do not; the evil

. . . this yielding to oneself is nothing but ignorance,

Akrasia (axgaata) is t h e t e r m Aristotle uses to refer to w h a t is some-

amusing. It has seemed t o some that Aristotle rejects and refutes

THE SOCRATIC DENIAL OF AKRASIA

Akrasia and the Morality of Decision

T h e suggestion has been m a d e t h a t akrasia poses a philosophical pro-

Aeschylus presents these pointed situations because he is less interested

essence of human action is to be found in the act of decision. A chemist

For Socrates as X e n o p h o n presents him, men choose what t h e y do;

The ways in which Plato utilizes and interprets the concept of

One of the most humorous and dramatic passages in Plato is found

Finally, in the Laws, there comes a point at which Plato acknowledges

It is because men make choices, then, that the art of measurement

ly not obliged to enter, for all three agree t h a t according to Socrates,

The passage from the Laches includes a similar practical reference,

osophical w r i t i n g s f r o m the later period are innocent of the distinction

H e emphasizes w h a t is intended b y r e m a r k i n g s o m e w h a t later that

10 F o r j u s t i c e , see Memorabilia iv.4.10. F o r courage, see i v . 6 . 1 1 . To "know

with a mere knack a t doing things, but involves as well a (theoretical ?)

like this would suggest a sophistic emphasis on individualism and

h i s own b e s t i n t e r e s t w h i c h m u s t i n e v i t a b l y d i r e c t h i s a c t i o n s ( s i n c e i t is only recog-

luck is a pursuit is asked. Socrates replies that luck (rvxv) a n d doing

his knowledge." Xenophon presents a passage which points in this

It is hard to say, then, whether Xenophon's Socrates has in mind

Euripides' Dramatization of Motivational Conflict

In two tragedies by Euripides, the Medea and the Hippolytus,

trolled man h a s t h e delights of learning s o m e t h i n g good a n d e x c e l l e n t , of s t u d y i n g

p r e s e n t e d in 431 B.C. a n d t h e Hippolytus in 428. A comparison of t h e t w o

In t h e Hippolytus it is t h e queen, P h a e d r a , who undergoes a simi-

of "replies" c r i t i c a l l y on p. 187 a n d in n o t e 47, p. 199, of The Greeks and the Irra-

are betrayed by their own laziness, and others

lines. B u t Euripides chooses to stress the {¡ovXevfiara. B u t it is also

of their understanding is revealed as catastrophically limited. But

Xenophon implies t h a t with the onset of passion or desire, the wis-

The Socratic Denial of Akrasia in the Protagoras

It may be t h a t the Protagoras contains a reply to Euripides' reply

the phenomenon of akrasia, with the aim of showing t h a t things are

After presenting t h e problem and affirming his belief in the suffi-

laughed us to scorn: but now if you laugh at us you will be laughing

life, and especially in t h e teaching of v i r t u e . H i s t h o u g h t culminates

P e r h a p s t h e soundest conclusion to carry a w a y from t h e Protagoras

See what is said about popular temperance at Phaedo 68E-69A.

we are to take seriously the analysis of akrasia according to which

THE DEVELOPMENT OF PLATO'S THOUGHT

The course of Plato's thought concerning akrasia consists of a series

for anger as it is to the wandering of opinion. Although much is said

The Cognitivist Stage

One way to approach Plato's thought is to see it as an extended

(477E). It is clear t h a t this strength is epistemological r a t h e r t h a n

a tickling and a mild uneasiness, yet the inflowing of pleasure, which

The Timaeus, like the Phaedo, is concerned with a broad distinction

W e have, then, an effect of a change in t h e condition of t h e body

The Psychological Stage

T h e most striking reference to akrasia in t h e writings of P l a t o is

t o t h e n o r m a l s t a t e of t h e b o d y at Timaeus 64D. See a l s o Gorgias 493, Republic,