30 October 2006

Judging On the Merits

"What traits do you look for in an arbiter?" I said to a friend who has much experience in these matters.

I was curious because I wanted to know whether Young's example was accurate. An example taken from actual life, I figure, is revelatory only to the extent that it represents how we indeed act and decide. And, besides the example he gave, Young had nothing to support his claim that Aristotelian justice involved looking at a dispute from the perspective of "a community of free and equal human beings."

"Well, you know, the usual things," my friend replied, "independence, knowledge of the relevant law, experience, good judgment."

I noted to myself that my friend had used the word 'independence', not 'impartiality'. Philosophers favor the latter, but the former is the usual technical term in such matters, and it means that the arbiter's direct or indirect financial interests will not materially be advanced or set back, depending upon how he decides the case.

"What if someone said that a necessary trait of an arbiter was the ability to view the case 'from the point of view of a community of free and equal human beings'?" I asked. "Would you agree that an arbiter should be like that?"

"I wouldn't have any idea what that language meant", my friend replied.

I tried a different tack. "Suppose the contesting parties are not hostile but wish to settle things amicably, in a friendly spirit. Suppose that they were friends beforehand and wanted to reach an agreement that preserves their friendship."

"Well then you're talking about mediation, not arbitration," my friend said. "Arbitration is basically a cost-saving measure. The arbiter aims to reach a judgment similar to what a court would reach, but without the expense of a trial. The role of a mediator, on the other hand, is to get the parties to talk to each other, to listen to each other, and, through that kind of exchange, to arrive themselves, if possible, at some shared agreement that seems fair to each."

I then gave Young's example to him, and quoted Young's language about the parties agreeing in advance that each is responsible for the broken bicycle to the extent that each acted negligently. From my rudimentary knowledge of tort law, I then said, "That's a notion of proportionate liability, right? Would the parties typically agree before approaching an arbiter to use proportionate liability, or, alternatively, predominant liability, or is that decision one that the arbiter would typically be expected to make?"

"It all depends on the state," my friend said. "If the state uses proportionate liability, then so will the arbiter."

"I see," I said, "that's because an arbiter is simply a short-cut trial, so to speak, and so points of law remain the same."

"Yes, that's right," my friend said.

In short, I couldn't find anything in actual practice that supported Young's account of what arbitration is like.

Young based everything on the idea: the arbiter decides the case as if he didn't know the identities of the parties to the dispute. But that sort of device, to insure independence, is very commonly used, without its implying anything about "adopting the perspective of a community of free and equal persons". It's a non sequitur to think that it does.

To give one example: a cellist auditions for the Boston Symphony, and he or she is asked to play behind a curtain, so that the judgment about his or her abilities is more likely to be based solely "on the merits", on the actual character of the playing. It would be ludicrous to say that this is to listen to the cellist's playing "from the perspective of a community of free and equal human beings." To judge something on its merits is not to adopt such a perspective.

28 October 2006

The Community of Free and Equal Persons

Although an important premise of John Rawls' philosophy is "the fact of ineliminable pluralism" (which implies that the citizens of a truly free society will never coincide on fundamental philosophical beliefs), it is remarkable how frequently disciples of Rawls discover that some major philosopher, ostensibly very different in outlook from Rawls, is in fact a Rawlsian. Dissertations have been written showing that Aquinas was a Rawlsian, or Hobbes. And now Charles Young, apparently, argues that Aristotle too was a Rawlsian.

As Richard Kraut says in the introductory essay to his anthology, "Charles Young ... proposes ... that we can find some striking similarities between Aristotelian justice as equality and some familiar ideas of contemporary political philosophy. There is, he argues, a notion of impartiality built into Aristotle's conception of justice. It 'invites us, in conducting our relations with others, to assume a perspective from which we view ourselves and ... others as members of a community of free and equal human beings, and to decide what to do from that perspective" (7).

Young seems to have two arguments. The first, which is implicit, is this: Aristotle speaks of justice as between free and equal persons (1134a24-30); Rawls speaks of justice as between free and equal persons; thus Aristotle and Rawls have the same view.

We need only state that argument to refute it.

Young's second argument involves reflection on a particular case of reasoning involving justice, "an example that illustrates what Aristotle may have in mind" when Aristotle says that a judge is a kind of intermediary. I quote it in full:

I back my car out of my driveway, destroying your bicycle, which you have left there. A predicable dispute arises. We agree that I owe you compensation to the degree that I was negligent in not looking before backing my car out and to the degree that you were negligent in leaving your bicycle in my driveway. But we disagree about which of us was the more negligent. You stress my error in not looking before backing out my car. If you are rude, you note that it might have been a child, not just a bicycle, that I ran over. I stress your error in leaving your bicycle where you did. If I am rude, I express the hope that you take better care of your child than you do of your bicycle.

To settle our dispute we might take it to a third party for adjudication. Each of us would expect the arbiter to decide the case from a disinterested perspective. The arbiter will treat each of us, and our respective claims, equally. She will look only at the fact that a bicycle left in a driveway by one person was destroyed by a second person who backed over it, and not care which of us owned the bicycle and which the car. And she will fix responsibility as the facts and the relevant principles demand.

The arbiter's decision helps us to see what justice requires of each of us in the original case. The arbiter assumes a disinterested perspective on the matter, seeing us only as two members of a community of free and equal persons, each with our own needs and interests. She is made aware of the facts of the case, and she is asked to fix responsibility as the facts and principles require. But this is a perspective that is open to each of us, independently of our actually submitting our case to a third party. Each of us can look at the situation from the arbiter's point of view without actually submitting the case to an arbiter. I can base my claims on a view of the appropriate degree of responsibility attaching to someone who, in such circumstances, ran over some else's [sic] bicycle that brackets the fact that the responsibility is mine. You can do the same, mutatis mutandis. To the extent that we have achieved Aristotelian justice, I am suggesting, this is what we will be disposed to do.
And I give his conclusion in full:
...Aristotelian particular justice invites us, in conducting our relations with others, to assume a perspective from which we view ourselves and those others as members of a community of free and equal human beings, and to decide what to do from that perspective. If we are able to achieve that perspective, and to embody it in our thoughts, feelings, desires, and choices, we will have achived Aristotelian particular justice. When we act from that perspective, we will express a conception of ourselves as free and equal members of a poltical community: as citizens.

27 October 2006

Charles Young on Aristotelian "Grace"-- Part II

I asked yesterday (see the post below) about a certain passage from NE V translated by Charles Young, which leaves out some words in an ellipsis. Once again we can ask: Why were those words left out? Not because of length, since only four words are at issue, th|~ metado&sei de\ summe/nousin, "they hold together through exchange".

The reason they were left out, I surmise, is that the words appear irrelevant, given how Young wants to interpret the passage. Yet this is a problem, since those words repeat Aristotle's thesis for the passage!

As the fuller context reveals, the passage is about a third sort of justice--not distributive or corrective, but proportionate reciprocity (to_ a)ntipeponqoj kat' a)nalogi/an)--and Aristotle is asserting that this sort of justice is that which "holds a city together". In passing Aristotle observes that, crucial to the carrying out of this sort of justice, is a sense of indebtedness or gratitude, xa/rij (not properly rendered here as 'grace'). Aristotle's etiology about temples to the Graces at marketplaces is simply meant to confirm the importance of this. But Young wants the passage to say something other than what it does, and so he has to omit by ellipsis the crucial sentence where Aristotle reminds us what the passage is about!

(Note, too, that the ellipsis, since it removes the crucial term, metado/sij, encourages Young's misreading of tou=to, "this", as pointing forward. It points backward, to a)ntapo&dosij and, before that, metado/sij.)

I copy below Young's complete commentary on the passage as expressing, he thinks, a doctrine of "Aristotelian grace". The writing is so precious and contrived that, in my view, it should have been XX-ed out without hesitation by the editor.

Aristotelian grace thus takes the good that we do for one another and returns, magnifies, and ramifies it. As a response to goodness, Aristotelian grace should be distinguished both from the grace of God and from grace under pressure (what Hemingway called "guts"), each of which responds to evil. The grace of God is God's response, if we are fortunate, to the evil that we do to one another. Grace under pressure is our response, if we are fortunate, to the evil that God--the world and other people, if you prefer--does to us.
Perhaps you are wondering with me at this point why Charles Young is sharing his theological opinions with us, and what this has to do with Aristotle's philosophy. Next he goes on to talk about the "operation of grace", surely a misleading phrase:
Aristotle makes two points about the operation of grace in the passage quoted above. First, grace enjoins us to return kindnesses that we have received: If you invite me to dinner, it is gracious for me to reciprocate. It is worth noting that the kindness done in return need not, and sometimes cannot, be done to the person who performed the original kindness. So it is, for example, with what owe to those responsible for our training in philosophy. "For such gifts the only proper return is the endeavor to make worthy use of what one has learned," as Myles Burnyeat (1982: 40n40) says in connection with Bernard Williams. Indeed, a kindness done in return need not be done to the specific individuals who benefited from the original kindness: "Lafayette, we are here."
Young now seems to have veered off into giving a moral exhortation or sermon here. It's all very inspiring, but this is "Charles Young's theory of grace". In Aristotle's passage, the indebtedness that is important in market exchanges surely must aim at reciprocation with the person who initiated the exchange.
Aristotle's second point is that grace enjoins one who has received a kindness "to go first ... next time out." If you have invited me to dinner, you have done me the kindness of the invitation. You have also done me the kindness of extending an invitation that is not a response to a previous invitation. It is gracious for me to return both kindnesses. Thus it is gracious for me to reciprocate the kindness of your original invitation by inviting you to dinner. It is also gracious for me to reciprocate the kindness of your extending an invitation that is not a response to a previous invitation by extending as similar invitation to you.
Young seems right about gratitude as shown in friendships, but Aristotle's point was in the context of a discussion of reciprocal justice. Isn't Young confusing justice with friendship?
There would seem to be an appealing regress here: a gracious regress, if I may. You invite me to dinner (Y). According to Aristotle's first point, it is gracious for me to reciprocate (M). That is a cycle, YM. According to his second point, it is gracious for me to initiate a next cycle, MY. But now we have a larger cycle, YMMY, which you initiated. So it is gracious for me to initiate a second larger cycle, MYYM. And so on, and on. It is thus a theorem of Aristotelian grace that if you do me a kindness, I will be forever in your debt.
But there is no unending cycle if we can reciprocate (as Young said above) with someone other than the person who did us the first favor. Also, why should we think that, according to Aristotle, we are supposed to have gratitude for participating in "cycles", rather than for the specific benefit of a particular gift? Once again, that phenomenon, if it exists, would seem to fall under a virtue other than justice.

But Young anticipates this last objection and concludes his discussion by replying as follows:
Aristotle may think that in "going first ... next time out" I square things with my benefactor. If so, our gracious regress is vicious against this thought. Kant goes straight to the heart of the matter: "For even if I repay my benefactor tenfold, I am still not even with him, because he has done me a kindness that he did not owe. He was the first in the field ... and I can never be beforehand with him" (Kant 1930: 222).
What does it mean, that "our gracious regress is vicious against this thought"? How does that serve as a reply to a reasonable objection? And Young seems to conclude that a certain view cannot be Aristotle's because Kant holds a different view!

As I said, an editor should delete such a passage peremptorily from a draft version and add, "It's your abuse of Aristotle's text that allows such flights of fancy."

26 October 2006

Charles Young on Aristotelian "Grace"

I wish to consider next a curious passage from Charles Young's essay, "Aristotle's Justice", also in the Kraut anthology which I have been examining.

Young takes a passing comment of Aristotle and finds within it a full doctrine of "Aristotelian grace". But does he do so with a good basis, or only through distortion?

Here is Young's translation of the relevant text:

For people seek to return both evil for evil (if they cannot, it seems to be slavery) and good for good, since otherwise exchange does not occur ... This is why people put up shrines to the Graces in prominent places: that there shall be paying back. For what is special about grace is that it's gracious for one who has been shown favor to do a kindness in return, and for him to go first in showing favor next time out (V.5.1132b33-1134a5)
Now, if you are like me, given what we have seen in Meyer's and Whiting's essays, you will be curious about the ellipsis--especially since that missing content immediately precedes the etiology ("this is why...") which is the focus of Young's attention.

The Greek is as follows, but I shall provide a fuller context for the passage. The passage that Young translates I'll highlight in blue.

a)ll' e0n me\n tai=j koinwni/aij tai=j a)llaktikai=j sune/xei to_ toiou~ton di/kaion, to_ a)ntipeponqoj kat' a)nalogi/an kai\ mh_ kat' i0so&thta. tw|~ a)ntipoiei=n gar a)na&logon summe/nei h( po&lij. h2 ga_r to_ kakw~j zhtou~sin: ei0 de\ mh&, doulei/a dokei= ei]nai [ei0 mh_ a)ntipoih&sei]: h2 to_ eu}: ei0 de\ mh&, meta&dosij ou) gi/netai, th|~ metado&sei de\ summe/nousin. dio_ kai\ Xari/twn i9ero_n e0mpodw_n poiou~ntai, i3n' a)ntapo&dosij h|}: tou~to ga_r i1dion xa&ritoj: a)nquphreth~sai ga_r dei= tw|~ xarisame/nw|, kai\ pa&lin au)to_n a1rcai xarizo&menon.

And here is Ross, for a comparison:
But in associations for exchange this sort of justice does hold men together-reciprocity in accordance with a proportion and not on the basis of precisely equal return. For it is by proportionate requital that the city holds together. Men seek to return either evil for evil-and if they cannot do so, think their position mere slavery-or good for good-and if they cannot do so there is no exchange, but it is by exchange that they hold together. This is why they give a prominent place to the temple of the Graces-to promote the requital of services; for this is characteristic of grace-we should serve in return one who has shown grace to us, and should another time take the initiative in showing it.
That's the text. In subsequent posts I'll say what seems to me perhaps misleading in Young's treatment of this passage, and I'll give his remarks also on Aristotelian 'grace'.

25 October 2006

Clarifying Comments of G. Betegh

I worry sometimes, when I post a comment on a book review, that to that extent Dissoi Blogoi becomes like many other blogs, and is merely reprocessing or collecting together in a single place material that can be found elsewhere.

This is not to mention that the degrees of oblique reference can themselves become daunting, e.g. in my post on Patricia Curd's review of Gábor Betegh's book, where my remarks were, in effect, Pakaluk's thoughts on Curd's thoughts on Betegh's thoughts on the Derveni Papyrus author's thoughts on the Orphic tradition.

It is a happy occasion, then, when I can pierce through some of these layers of intention and simply quote more directly, as is possible now that Gábor Betegh has kindly offered the following comments on that post. I place them in a separate post because the original post is now several weeks in the past.

Thank you for mentioning Pat Curd's review of my book on your blog.

Without trying to convince anybody about the philosophical interest of DP, let me make two small remarks.

1. The first sentence of your formulation of view (ii) ('Right conduct leads to true belief') seems to state that right conduct is a sufficient condition for true belief. This is reinforced by the parallel formulation of view (i): 'True belief leads to right conduct. Someone who understands the true doctrine of the cosmos as a consequence acts properly.' Yet the second sentence of the formulation of view (ii), 'Someone who purifies himself by right conduct as a consequence will be able to grasp the true doctrine of the cosmos' (my emphasis) seems to make a slightly different claim.

When I write that 'Moral betterment is a precondition both for piety and gain in knowledge about the divine' I mean that right conduct, in the DP author's view, is a necessary but not a sufficient condition for true belief. So the DP author, as I understand him, would agree with the second sentence of view (ii), but not with its first sentence.

2. In the final paragraph of your entry you write that 'The next step, I suppose, would be to explain how the DP author might have thought that an upright life makes someone especially fit to grasp the deep truth, that Zeus castrated his father, swallowed his father's severed phallus, and then committed incest with his mother.' The whole point of the DP author's commentary is that the literal meaning of the poem, that Zeus castrated his father, committed incest etc., is not its true meaning.

The 'deep truth' is rather a doctrine that explains how the god, a good cosmic Mind, created from a pre-cosmic chaos this well-organized cosmos, suitable for human beings. But I agree that it remains a question why he thinks that right conduct is a precondition for accepting all this. Perhaps he thought that only those who have some idea about what right conduct is can appreciate that the story involving castration, swallowing the phallus, incest, etc. simply cannot be what the very eminent Orpheus wanted to teach us. (It is only a guess. I may well be mistaken because I haven't gone through the appropriate Orphic purification ritual, so, I am afraid, I haven't met one of the necessary conditions for having a true belief.)

Philosophy and Religion in Ancient Greece (Chicago)

To my mind, this conference looks extraordinarily good:


The University of Chicago , The University of Illinois at Chicago and Northwestern University

present

Philosophy and Religion in Ancient Greece

November 3-4, 2006

Friday, November 3
Northwestern University, Harris Hall, Room 108, 1881 Sheridan Road Evanston


2:00 - 3:45
Patricia Curd, Purdue University , "Divinity, Intelligibility, and Human Understanding in Presocratic Thought"
Comments: Brad Inwood, Universityof Toronto

4:00-5:45
Stephen Menn, McGill University , "Physics and Religion in Heraclitus"
Comments: Victor Caston, University of Michigan


Saturday, November 4
morning session at: University of Illinois at Chicago, Humanities Institute, Stevenson Hall (lower level), 701 S. Morgan

9:00-10:45
David Sedley, Christ's College, Cambridge University , "Platonic Immortality"
Comments: Sean Kelsey, UCLA

11:00-12:45
Gabor Betegh, Central European University , Budapest , "Tale, Theology, and Teleology in the Phaedo"
Comments: Tad Brennan, Northwestern University

afternoon session at: University of Chicago , Classics 10, 1010 E. 59th Street

2:00-3:45: Alasdair MacIntryre, University of Notre Dame, "Sophoclean Conflicts: Between Religion and Philosophy"
Comments: Jonathan Lear, University of Chicago

4:00- 5:45: Sarah Broadie, University of St. Andrew 's, "Descent and Reminiscence in the Timaeus-Critias"
Comments: Barbara Sattler, University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign

5:45-6:16 Closing Remarks: Martha Nussbaum, University of Chicago

For further information about attending the conference, or to attend the dinners Friday or Saturday evening, please contact Richard Kraut, rkraut1@northwestern.edu.

23 October 2006

Reprise of Whiting on Philanthropia

I regard the reasons that I gave in my earlier post as decisive, but it seems the following argument works as well.

Recall that what is at issue is the interpretation of the following passage, and especially the highlighted words:

Again, parent seems by nature to feel it for offspring and offspring for parent, not only among men but among birds and among most animals; it is felt mutually by members of the same race, and especially by men, whence we praise lovers of their fellowmen. We may even in our travels how near and dear every man is to every other (NE 1155a16-22, Ross).

fu&sei t' e0nupa&rxein e1oike pro_j to_ gegennhme/non tw|~ gennh&santi kai pro_j to_ gennh~san tw|~ gennhqe/nti, ou) mo&non e0n a)nqrw&poij a)lla_ kai\ e0n o1rnisi kai\ toi=j plei/stoij tw~n zw|&wn, kai\ toi=j o(moeqne/si pro_j a1llhla, kai\ ma&lista toi=j a)nqrw&poij, o3qen tou_j filanqrw&pouj e0painou~men. i1doi d' a1n tij kai\ e0n tai=j pla/naij w(j oi0kei=on a3paj a1nqrwpoj a)nqrw&pw| kai\ fi/lon.
Recall that Whiting understands Aristotle to be arguing: human beings are by nature "clannish", which is an objectionably egocentric attitude, but they are praiseworthy when they overcome this innate bias and cultivate an affection for all members of the human species.

In contrast I understand the passage as arguing that human beings, like other animals, have an innate affection for any others that they recognize as being of the same stock (toi=j o(moeqne/si), and this innate affection finds expression, also, in our having a natural affection for any human being whatsoever. When we cultivate philanthropia we are not overcoming anything but rather expressing to a fuller extent something similar to familial affection.

The crucial linguistic point dividing these two interpretations is this. For Whiting, the term "members of the same clan" (homoethneis) must refer to a group that falls short of the entire human race--e.g. a clan, tribe, or 'racial group'--since otherwise there could be no question of someone's 'overcoming' affection directed at that group in cultivating philanthropia.

For me, in contrast, the term homoethneis is what is known as a 'functional' term, that is, one that has a different signification depending upon the kind of thing that is being talked about. It means 'of a common stock', and it signifies more narrowly or more broadly, depending upon how far back in common descent one reaches (of the same family, viz. from same parents; of the same clan, viz. from the same ancestors; of the same tribe, viz. from the same founders; etc). If the term works in that way, then there is no reason why it could not also signify members of the human race as a whole, conceived of as of a 'common stock' because they have a shared descent and belong to a single human 'family'.

Now there is no way to settle this point of difference with reference to homoethneis, which is too rare a word. But the term ethnos is not so rare, and we can make a comparable distinction as regards it. On Whiting's view, ethnos must always mean something short of the entire human race; whereas on my view ethnos, as a 'functional' term, could sometimes mean also the entire human race considered as having a common descent.

This point was brought home to me when reading yesterday St. Paul's speech on the Areopagus, which contains these lines:
o( qeo\j o( poih/saj to\n ko/smon kai\ pa/nta ta\ e)n au)tw=| ... e)poi/hse/n te e)c e(no\j pa=n e)/qnoj a)nqrw/pwn katoikei=n e)pi\ panto\j prosw/pou th=j gh=j ... Tou= ga\r kai\ ge/noj e)smen.

The God who made the world and all that is in it ...made from one the whole human race to dwell on the entire surface of the earth...For we too are his offspring (Acts 17: 24-28).
And there it is, exactly: ethnos being used in the way that my view would allow (ethnos anthrwpwn, "race of men"), and in the way that Whiting's view would exclude.

It is well known that the Areopagus address is a Hellenizing speech: Paul deliberately weaves it out of ideas and notions from Greek philosophers and poets. The concept of a human family is not uncommon in Greek thought. But how far back does this exact language of a "race of men" go?

No deep research is necessary. A quick look at LSJ suffices to establish that it predates Aristotle, e.g. in Pindar's expressions e)/qnoj bro/teon, e)/qnoj qnato/n ("mortal race").

Some of Us Are Born Finitists

Another Joseph story.

Tonight at dinner we found ourselves low on dessert, and, in fact, there was only one serving of ice cream for a child to enjoy. Two of the boys, alas, would have to have yogurt instead. We played a guessing game to see who would get the ice cream. "I've picked a number between zero and ten," I said, "and whoever guesses it first can have the ice cream."

The three boys kept guessing numbers for round after round ("Is it six?" "Is it eight?"...) but, as it happens and improbably, they kept failing to pick the one I had decided upon (the number two).

After three rounds and the number still not picked, having lost sight it seems of the numbers that remained unselected, Joseph asked, somewhat desperately:

"Is it the nothing that's between two numbers?"

21 October 2006

Others Have Missed the Point ...Once More

This is my last post on Jennifer Whiting's essay, "The Nicomachean Account of Philia."

I haven't been focusing on her interpretation, because I do not find it illuminating as an account of Aristotle, and there seem better uses of my time than to quarrel with T. Irwin over "rational egoism".

I have focused, however, on her construction of particular passages. Why? Because I think the flawed character of her interpretation is revealed in her flawed treatment of the texts. And generally good interpretations are based on a skilled use of texts. "There is, of course, no escaping the hermeneutic circle", as Whiting says near the beginning of her essay, but the circle has to be drawn through the right points.

And I've given proportionate attention always: just as much as Whiting gives and even invites. "Note especially my rendering of sunōkeiōtai as 'familiar with' ", Whiting asked. -- And we noted it, especially.

My last comment concerns the sentence highlighted in red below. I give the translation just as it occurs in Whiting's essay. You've seen this before, but I give it again. I'll also restore the second half of the sentence at the end, which Whiting omits. (I'll highlight that in blue, to flag that it is not in Whiting's essay.)

Parents are fond of their children as being something of themselves [hōs heautōn ti onta], and children [are fond of] their parents as [themselves] being something form them [i.e., the parents]. But parents know the things coming from themselves more than their offspring know that they are from them [i.e., the parents]; and the one from which is more familiar with [sunōkeiōtai] the one generated than the one coming to be is with its producer. For what comes from oneself is oikeion to the one from which it comes ... but the one from which [the latter comes] is in now way [oikeion] to it, or less so. And [these phenomena vary] with the length of time [involved]. For [parents] are fond of [their children] immediately upon their coming to be, while children [are fond of] their parents only after some time, when they have acquired comprehension [sunesis] or perception. From these things it is clear why mothers love [their children] more [than their children love them]. Parents, then, love their children as themselves [hōs heautous] (for the ones coming to be from them are like other selves [hoion heteroi autoi], by being separated [from them]) (1161b18-29) [whereas children love their parents as the sources from which they have sprung] (Whiting, trans., in Kraut, ed., p. 289).
Now as regards the sentence in red, other translators have:

Ross: "From these considerations it is also plain why mothers love more than fathers do."

Rowe: "And these points also make it clear why it is that maternal love is greater."

Ostwald: "This also explains why affection felt by mothers is greater [that that of fathers]."

Rackham: "These considerations also explain why parental affection is stronger in the mother."

I don't doubt that dozens of others could be brought in also, as rendering in the same way, viz. understanding Aristotle to be drawing a contrast in the sentence between maternal and paternal affection.

Whiting sees fit to disagree. She explains her disagreement in a footnote:

The point here is not (as Ross and Irwin render it) that mothers tend to love their children more than fathers do: the thrust of this argument (as distinct from that in IX.7) is that parents (at least initially) tend to love their children more than their children love them. If mothers are suddenly singled out here, that may be because Aristotle thinks (for reasons cited in IX.7) that mothers tend to love their children more than fathers do (n. 12, p. 303).

And then it becomes clear that Whiting has missed the word "also" (kai/) in the sentence under dispute (e0k tou&twn de\ dh~lon kai\ di' a4 filou~si ma~llon ai9 mhte/rej) ; she fails to see, then, that this conclusion is additional to one that Aristotle takes himself already to have stated or suggested. And one might guess she was aided in this by her omitting (from her essay--but also from her notes, or in thought?) the last clause of the passage: since she omits this, she casts around to find the conclusion of the passage somewhere else; she thinks it must be in stated in the disputed sentence ("The point here is not.... the thrust of this argument .... is....."); and then this leads her to overlook the "also".

Am I picking on a small point? The point was large enough for Whiting to write an involved footnote in explanation. For my part, I'm willing to allow that Whiting's interpretation is distinguished precisely by what it has to offer in little observations such as this, and that interpreters, when they miss Whiting's point here, are just as wrong when they miss her point everywhere else.

Switched from Mozilla Firefox to IE 7

"I think in about ten years we'll see Microsoft as dwindled down to a mid-size company and absorbed by someone else. The big challenge today for everyone is Google, not Microsoft. Google is after Microsoft with a web-based alternative to Office. They're working on a Blackberry replacement. They've got their sights on everything, and they've got the money and innovation to succeed. Although, I will grant Microsoft this--they've come back really strong with IE 7. I've been using Mozilla Firefox now for over a year, but I just switched to back to IE. It's got tabs, great security, lots of neat features."

It's not because I love the underdog (how could Microsoft ever be an underdog, no matter how small it gets?), but I was convinced by my tech friend's endorsement and, after giving it a try, switched this morning to IE.

20 October 2006

Brotherly Love = Bias ?

I'll try to explain why Whiting deals with the passage we have been considering as she does, in particular, her attempt to construe sunwkei/wtai as meaning "is familiar with" instead of "is intrinsically bound up with".

According to Whiting, Aristotle holds that natural affection, such as the love that a mother has for her child, is an "eogcentric bias", akin to racism, which we should strive to overcome. She comments, as regards the passage we have been looking at:

...the apparent assimilation of character-friendship to the attitude of parents toward their children may give us pause. For this makes it seem as if Aristotle's account of character-friendship is grounded in the sort of egocentric bias on which ethnocentric and other objectionable forms of bias are based. So we must pause to see that this is not the case (289).
She holds that, according to Aristotle, natural affection such as a mother's love, although an "egocentric bias", nevertheless has a useful function, since it shows us that altruistic attitudes are possible, and it provides a model for the sort of unbiased, "impersonal" affection that we should cultivate in character-friendship, thereby overcoming these inherent "biases":
...his appeal to psychological fact about whom and how we do love is not a crude attempt to justify conclusions about whom and how we ought to love, but rather a strategy for establishing the possibility of attitudes he seeks eventually to recommend (290).
Thus Whiting wants to deal with the passage from VIII.12 as: it is providing a model, in familial affection, for phenomena that are important in character-friendship. That is why she wants to take sunwkei/wtai as meaning "familiar with", and she resists recognizing that it is referring, rather, to an enduring bond based on a relation of flesh and blood. She says this about the role of the passage:
Aristotle is preparing here for his account of character-friendship, which is also a developmental achievement: it takes time and intimacy for the parties to become familiar with one another in ways such that they are "other selves" to each other, each appreciating and enjoying the other's activities in something like the way she appreciates and enjoys her own (289).
In fact the passage does not have that role. It is not remotely related to Aristotle's discussion of character-friendship, which is in VIII.3-5 and IX.4-9. Rather, VIII.12 occurs at the end of Aristotle's extended discussion of the relationship between civic friendship and familial affection. The passage aims to identify the bases of familial affection; it is not meant to prepare for anything else.

In any case, the notion that familial affection is an "egocentric bias"--or even the picture that we are trapped within a nature that gives us "biases" toward racism and loving our children, which however we have to fight our way free of--although an interesting theory, is definitely not Aristotelian. This seems more like the Republic's attitude toward the family, which Aristotle criticizes in Politics II. (Or see the Eudemian Ethics : "in the household are located the original sources and springs of friendship, constitutional goverment, and justice", dio\ e)n oi)ki/a prw=ton a)rxai\ kai\ phgai\ fili/aj kai\ politei/aj kai\ di/kaiou, 1242a40-41.) And the view that, although these affections are "biases", they are nonetheless extremely useful for the public good and essential to constitutional government (as would be implied), is Mandeville, not Aristotle.

18 October 2006

More Small Points

I want to discuss the translation of consideration [2] from yesterday's post, both how it should be translated, and how Whiting translates it. Later I'll say something about why, I think, Whiting was led to deal with it as she does.

What as at issue is this observation:

[2] kai\ ma~llon sunw|kei/wtai to_ a)f' ou{ tw|~ gennhqe/nti h2 to_ geno&menon tw|~ poih&santi: to_ ga_r e0c au)tou~ oi0kei=on tw|~ a)f' ou{, oi[on o)dou_j qri\c o(tiou~n tw|~ e1xonti: e0kei/nw| d' ou)de\n to_ a)f' ou{, h2 h{tton.
Suppose we want to know what sunw|kei/wtai means here. (By the way, Bywater's text has a typo and omits the iota subscript.) What should we do? We might follow Ackrill's advice and look to the ga/r clause. That doesn't help, entirely, because the term oi0kei=on,which is crucial in the ga/r clause, can take a variety of meanings. But fortunately Aristotle provides us with examples, that help to fix the meaning, viz. o)dou_j qri\c o(tiou~n. So by oi0kei=on here he means the relationship which something that grows naturally out of another thing continues to have to it--'belongs' will do well enough--and then we might accordingly understand sunw|kei/wtai as something like "bound together" or "bound up with".

Another approach would be to look in the lexicon, which would confirm the results of our first procedure. LSJ give for sunoikeio/w (N.B. not for the closely resembling sunoike/w) in the passive: to be bound by ties of kindred, to be closely united... generally, to be closely united. The Perseus site additionally gives cateno as the Latin equivalent.

A lexicon is of course little more authoritative, ultimately, than the instances on which it must rely. Fortunately for us, several of the more revealing uses of the term are in the NE (as Bywater's index also shows): besides 1162b21, also 1162a2, 1172a20, 1175a29, and 1178a15. If we examine these passages, we get confirmation once again that sunoikeio/w in the passive means something like, "to be inextricably bound together, by the very nature of the things involved". At 1162a2, shortly after the passage under consideration, Aristotle uses it to refer to how any relative is bound to other through their relationship to brothers (siblings). It is used for the way in which pleasure is inextricably mingled with human life (1172a20) or the way a proper pleasure is bound up with its activity (1175a25).

Here is Whiting's discussion of the word, once again:
Note especially my rendering of sunōkeiōtai [sic] as "familiar with". Ross (1980) has "attached to," which is good insofar as it suggests some sort of emotional bond; Irwin (1999) has "regards ... as more his own," which is less good insofar as it suggests something primarily cognitive. I prefer "familiar with" both because it preserves the etymological connection with sun- (meaning "with") and oikos (whose focal referent is the family), and because it has both cognitive and affective aspects; it suggest not only recognizing that something is oikeion to one, but also the sort of emotional affiliation people tend to have with those with whom they have lived. It suggests a bond requiring a certain kind of perception or understanding, which is why it takes time for children to achieve it (p. 289).
Whiting wants to understand sunw|kei/wtai to be referring not to a bond that is connatural, and which is prior to affection, rightly providing the basis for affection, but rather as a kind of 'familiarity' (to be familiar with is to be accustomed to). As I said, perhaps I'll explain later why she wants to understand it in this way. It has to do with her view that, for Aristotle, natural bases for affection are 'biases' which we must overcome. But for now some comments:

1. Her interpretation of the term is at odds with every other occurrence of the term in NE, including the occurrence a few lines later, at 1162a2. In no other place does it or could it mean a familiarity having "both cognitive and affective aspects".
2. If one were to restore Aristotle's examples in the ellipsis, "a tooth, hair", then it would be clear that "familiar with"="accustomed to" can hardly be sustained: teeth don't develop familiarity with their owner over time.
3. Likewise, it won't work to take oikeion to mean 'familiar'. Teeth aren't "familar" with the jaw they came out of.
4. Anyway, sun- doesn't work in the manner of 'with' (that role is played by the dative), but rather it has the sense of 'together' and connotes reciprocity , viz. bound together.

17 October 2006

Henry Teloh's BACAP Lecture

THE HOLY CROSS PHILOSOPHY DEPARTMENT
and
THE BOSTON AREA COLLOQUIUM IN
ANCIENT PHILOSOPHY

Present a Lecture By

Prof. Henry Teloh
(Vanderbilt University)

“Rhetoric, Refutation and What Socrates Believes”



Commentary by
David Roochnik
(Boston University)

Thursday, October 19 , 7:30pm
Dinand Library Faculty Room


Also a Seminar:

“What Does the Dramatic Socrates Believe?”
3:30pm -- Smith Hall 201


Contact Prof. May Sim for further informatione-mail: msim@holycross.edu

My "I" Tooth

It seems best to make a division. Today I'll discuss how I think that passage from NE (1161b18-29) should be understood. Tomorrow I'll consider Jennifer Whiting's treatment of the passage.

I'll take the passage out one additional line, since then it becomes clear that we have a 'sandwich', with the same thesis repeated in almost identical words at the beginning and end. In the middle of the sandwich are three considerations. I'll parse accordingly:

[Thesis] oi9 gonei=j me\n ga_r ste/rgousi ta_ te/kna w(j e9autw~n ti o1nta, ta_ de\ te/kna tou_j gonei=j w(j a)p' e0kei/nwn ti o1nta.

[1] ma~llon d' i1sasin oi9 gonei=j ta_ e0c au(tw~n h2 ta_ gennhqe/nta o3ti e0k tou&twn,
[2] kai\ ma~llon sunwkei/wtai to_ a)f' ou{ tw~ gennhqe/nti h2 to_ geno&menon tw~ poih&santi: to_ ga_r e0c au)tou~ oi0kei=on tw~ a)f' ou{, oi[on o)dou_j qri\c o(tiou~n tw~ e1xonti: e0kei/nw d' ou)de\n to_ a)f' ou{, h2 h{tton.
[3] kai\ tw~ plh&qei de\ tou~ xro&nou: oi4 me\n ga_r eu)qu_j geno&mena ste/rgousin, ta_ de\ proelqo&ntoj xro&nou tou_j gonei=j, su&nesin h2 ai1sqhsin labo&nta.
(e0k tou&twn de\ dh~lon kai\ di' a4 filou~si ma~llon ai9 mhte/rej.)
[Thesis] gonei=j me\n ou}n te/kna filou~sin w(j e9autou&j (ta_ ga_r e0c au)tw~n oi[on e3teroi au)toi\ tw~ kexwri/sqai),te/kna de\ gonei=j w(j a)p' e0kei/nwn pefuko/ta.


The thesis is about a difference in kind between the love of parents for children and of children for parents; the three considerations are about a difference in degree. This raises the question: What is the relationship between the considerations and the thesis?

Perhaps the considerations are simply a digression or interpolation. Aristotle wanted to say something somewhere about the difference in degree, and this was a good place to put it.

But I rather think that Aristotle thought that a good way of drawing attention to the difference in kind, and its significance, was by drawing attention to the difference in degree. After all, the difference in kind is surprising and difficult to grasp. If parents love their children "as themselves", then why don't children love parents "as themselves"? If children are "other selves that are separated out", then why aren't parents, too, "other selves" that are separated from the children? (Isn't the "other self" relation symmetric?) Children and parents, once joined, are now detached: but then isn't each related to the other in the same way?

To show that this is not the case, Aristotle draws attention to the difference of degree. Consideration [1]: the one ground ('derived from me') is more an object of thought and awareness than the other ('my source'). Indeed this is true: to pick just one example, parents frequently think of a child as 'like me'; a child never thinks of his parent as 'like me' and hardly ever dwells on whether he is like the parent.

Consideration [2]: the one ground ('derived from me') constitutes a closer bond than the other ('my source'). This again is also true. Parent and child are not 'detached' from each other so much as the child 'comes from the parent'. Aristotle illustrates the asymmetry with the example of a tooth. Suppose a tooth falls out of a man: the tooth belongs to the man, not the man to the tooth. The tooth is 'his tooth', the man is not 'its man'. Similarly, parents almost always think of their children as 'mine', but a child only occasionally thinks of his parents as 'mine' (say, to distinguish them from his friend's parents, to identify them).

Consideration [3] is different, I think, as signalled by the compressed way in which it is given. Is it a later addition? Or perhaps Aristotle has lost track of the purpose for which he is considering differences in degree (this one makes no essential appeal to the difference between being 'derived from me' and 'my source'), and is simply giving an additional reason for there being a difference in degree?

The remark e0k tou&twn de\ dh~lon kai\ di' a4 filou~si ma~llon ai9 mhte/rej means, as signalled by kai/, "why mothers love more than fathers", since the outward parts of the 'sandwich' are already about the parents.

I'll paste the Ross translation below.
---
For parents love their children as being a part of themselves, and children their parents as being something originating from them. Now
(1) parents know their offspring better than there children know that they are their children, and
(2) the originator feels his offspring to be his own more than the offspring do their begetter; for the product belongs to the producer (e.g. a tooth or hair or anything else to him whose it is), but the producer does not belong to the product, or belongs in a less degree. And
(3) the length of time produces the same result; parents love their children as soon as these are born, but children love their parents only after time has elapsed and they have acquired understanding or the power of discrimination by the senses.
From these considerations it is also plain why mothers love more than fathers do.
Parents, then, love their children as themselves (for their issue are by virtue of their separate existence a sort of other selves), while children love their parents as being born of them...

16 October 2006

The Harmony of Plato and Aristotle

A strange line from a review by Lloyd Gerson of a recent book by George Karamanolis raises fundamental questions about how any supposed "harmony" between Plato and Aristotle may be conceived:

Aristotle's metaphysics was not thought by Plotinus to be "considerably different" from Plato's, except in the way, for example, that Newtonian mechanics may be supposed to be "considerably different" from quantum mechanics. The latter encompasses the former; it does not negate it. It is this conception of harmony that Plotinus bequeathed to the later Platonic tradition
I wonder if Gerson didn't mean special relativity, rather than quantum mechanics. If anything, because of the use of the correspondence principle, quantum mechanics is, in a sense, a part of classical mechanics. (The correspondence principle is the requirement, in effect, that values for quantum mechanical states must be selected so that its results are consistent with classical mechanics.)

But then consider, in quantum mechanics: wave-particle duality; non-determinism; superposition; indeterminacy; non-locality. All of these are at odds with classical mechanics. So if Plato and Aristotle are as different as that, what exactly is the "harmony" between them?

Gerson seems to be suggesting that Aristotelian philosophy may be restricted to simply one part of a larger whole, which then Platonism deals with. This is on its face implausible, since both Plato and Aristotle aim to give an account of everything.

But does another line in the review reveal more exactly what Gerson means?
It is also to Porphyry that we owe the strategy, taken up enthusiastically by Simplicius among others, of arguing that the apparent differences between Aristotle and Plato are often owing to a difference in "explanatory direction," that is, as to whether an effect or a cause of a subject phenomenon is being adduced (pp.266-70). That is to say, the difference is only apparent because the problems that were being treated were different. This strategy is applied to questions in ethics, psychology, physics, and metaphysics. Actually, Plotinus takes a similar approach, for example, when he argues that Aristotle's categories are inadequate for understanding the intelligible world, the implication being that they are perfectly suitable for the sensible world (my emphasis).
Thus: Aristotle talks about the lower two segments of the Divided Line, Plato talks about the entire Line. We relegate Aristotle to the sensible world, Plato to the vast reaches of the non-sensible world.

Presumably it's possible to use Aristotle and Plato in this way, that is, to make them come into harmony, by suitable adjustments and changes in their philosophies (in the manner of some neo-Platonists), or by appropriating ideas from Aristotle and Plato and weaving these into a distinct and ostensibly coherent whole (as in the manner of Thomas Aquinas). This would be harmony as the possibility of constructing some suitable harmonization. But it seems misleading to refer to refer to this as "the harmony" (or "agreement") that exists between them.

For Want of a (Finger)Nail

"If you are puzzled about the meaning of what Aristotle says, yet what he says is followed by a gar clause, then look to the gar clause, because usually in the gar clause he will tell you what he means." Thus the very sensible advice that John Ackrill once gave to me.

"But what if you are relying upon a translation, and the translation actually omits crucial words from the gar clause?"-- Then I suppose you are in a fix.

Such is the issue we confront in today's instance, of the use of texts in Jennifer Whiting's essay on Aristotelian philia in the Kraut anthology. Today I'll give you her discussion of a passage from Aristotle and give the Greek also. I see three difficulties in her discussion; I wonder if you can spot these or more.

You will see that in the passage from Aristotle which she quotes there is an ellipsis (...). Now you might think that words have been omitted at this point for editorial reasons, because otherwise the passage would be too long; or that a digression or otherwise irrelevant passage has been left out, as a service to the reader.

But if you consult the Greek you will find that only six, small words are omitted (so passage length could not have been the reason), and that these words, far from being irrelevant, are Aristotle's concrete illustration of what he means.

Strange to say, these words also conflict with the interpretation that Whiting wishes to give to the passage!

Here is the passage as Whiting translates it in her essay, followed by her remarks upon it:

Parents are fond of their children as being something of themselves [hōs heautōn ti onta], and children [are fond of] their parents as [themselves] being something form them [i.e., the parents]. But parents know the things coming from themselves more than their offspring know that they are from them [i.e., the parents]; and the one from which is more familiar with [sunōkeiōtai] the one generated than the one coming to be is with its producer. For what comes from oneself is oikeion to the one from which it comes ... but the one from which [the latter comes] is in now way [oikeion] to it, or less so. And [these phenomena vary] with the length of time [involved]. For [parents] are fond of [their children] immediately upon their coming to be, while children [are fond of] their parents only after some time, when they have acquired comprehension [sunesis] or perception. From these things it is clear why mothers love [their children] more [than their children love them]. Parents, then, love their children as themselves [hōs heautous] (for the ones coming to be from them are like other selves [hoion heteroi autoi], by being separated [from them]) (1161b18-29).
Note the role played here not just by what is oikeion to a subject, but also by the subject's recognition of it as such: this is supposed to help explain the kind of affection people tend as a matter of fact to have. Note especially my rendering of sunōkeiōtai as "familiar with". Ross (1980) has "attached to," which is good insofar as it suggests some sort of emotional bond; Irwin (1999) has "regards ... as more his own," which is less good insofar as it suggests something primarily cognitive. I prefer "familiar with" both because it preserves the etymological connection with sun- (meaning "with") and oikos (whose focal referent is the family), and because it has both cognitive and affective aspects; it suggest not only recognizing that something is oikeion to one, but also the sort of emotional affiliation people tend to have with those with whom they have lived. It suggests a bond requiring a certain kind of perception or understanding, which is why it takes time for children to achieve it (p. 289).

---
And here is the Greek. I'll highlight the omitted words.

oi9 gonei=j me\n ga_r ste/rgousi ta_ te/kna w(j e9autw~n ti o1nta, ta_ de\ te/kna tou_j gonei=j w(j a)p' e0kei/nwn ti o1nta. ma~llon d' i1sasin oi9 gonei=j ta_ e0c au(tw~n h2 ta_ gennhqe/nta o3ti e0k tou&twn, kai\ ma~llon sunw|kei/wtai to_ a)f' ou{ tw|~ gennhqe/nti h2 to_ geno&menon tw|~ poih&santi: to_ ga_r e0c au)tou~ oi0kei=on tw|~ a)f' ou{, oi[on o)dou_j qri\c o(tiou~n tw|~ e1xonti: e0kei/nw| d' ou)de\n to_ a)f' ou{, h2 h{tton. kai\ tw|~ plh&qei de\ tou~ xro&nou: oi4 me\n ga_r eu)qu_j geno&mena ste/rgousin, ta_ de\ proelqo&ntoj xro&nou tou_j gonei=j, su&nesin h2 ai1sqhsin labo&nta. e0k tou&twn de\ dh~lon kai\ di' a4 filou~si ma~llon ai9 mhte/rej. gonei=j me\n ou}n te/kna filou~sin w(j e9autou&j (ta_ ga_r e0c au)tw~n oi[on e3teroi au)toi\ tw|~ kexwri/sqai),

14 October 2006

Another Apoblogia

I have so far looked at two texts where, I believe, Whiting has proposed a mistaken interpretation, and I shall shortly look at another.

But someone may be thinking, "Why are you focussing on such small points? It looks as though you are evading the important philosophical issues and taking refuge instead in pettifoggery. It's easy, isn't it, to take pot shots about minor details while ignoring what is truly important."

To this I would say, first, that this is not a fight that I picked. In her essay, Whiting looks at a string of passages, devoting one or two pages to each, and claiming that she is giving the correct interpretation of them, where others have "missed the point", committed "errors", or offered impossible renderings. If such passages warrant a couple of pages of attention in a published book, then surely they warrant one web page of attention on a blog. And this is not to mention that, as a translator and interpreter of those passages, I have some standing to make a response.

Second, it seems that only on a blog will such things come to light. Certainly puff-piece reviews will do nothing to cast light upon them. But even a good review will typically not be able to devote attention to such details.

Third, far from being pettifoggery, these details are the very substance and data of a sound interpretation. Whiting herself recognizes this, which is why she devotes a fair amount of space to them in her essay. It simply is not possible to do scholarly work on Aristotle that has enduring value, without getting such details right.

We should distinguish: an interpretation which aims to get it right about Aristotle's thought, from an interpretation in which the interpreter, really, is engaging in a kind of 'systematic' philosophy, though using a discussion of Aristotle as a means to doing so.

The latter is, to my mind, disreputable, although it is extremely common. Systematic philosophy should stand on its own. To such interpreters I would say: "Instead of giving us an interpretation of Aristotle as a Rawlsian, please write an essay on justice using Rawls' ideas. Instead of an article arguing that Aristotle is a 'naturalist' (in our sense), write an article defending philosophical naturalism (if you can). " And so on. Each philosopher is what he is, and not another philosopher. Aristotle is not a naturalist (in our sense) or a materialist; he is not an exponent of Rawlsianism or Parfitianism; Aristotle is not a thomist or a neo-platonist. Aristotle is Aristotle.

But the alternative, the only legitimate path, in my view--to get it right about Aristotle's thought--most definitely requires great accuracy in reading and understanding an Aristotelian text. So these are not simply small points.

13 October 2006

Whiting on Philanthropia

Last time I looked at a text which Jennifer Whiting claimed could not be interpreted in a certain way, yet that interpretation turned out to be (it seems) correct!

Today I'll look at a passage as regards which, according to Whiting, scholars such as W.D. Ross have committed an "error", and yet, on closer examination, it isn't so clear that the error isn't Whiting's.

But first some background. Whiting's interpretation of Aristotle on friendship is, like Meyer on the voluntary, revisionist. From Irwin she inherits a worry about "rational egoism" in Aristotelian ethics: Does Aristotle perhaps think that friendship is no more than an extension of self-love, a "colonization" of others, as a way of more fully realizing oneself?

The antidote she provides is her idea of "impersonal" or "impartial" friends:

Once we accept this distinction [in NE IX.8] between self-love properly construed and self-love as it is usually (but mistakenly) understood, we are supposed to see an important sense in which self-love properly construed is impartial: insofar as self-love properly construed involves the virtuous person's love for herself qua virtuous, and insofar as a genuinely virtuous agent will value virtue as such, the virtuous agent should love other virtuous agents in much the same way that she loves herself (i.e. qua virtuous) (p. 293, Kraut anthology).
Whiting's interpretation effectively turns the NE treatment of friendship on its head. When Aristotle says that "a friend is another self", he might just as well have said, on this interpretation, that "a self is another friend". To form a friendship is not to extend anything (self-love, familiarity), and certainly not to cultivate affection on the basis of "brute" similarities (same home town, same famiy) but rather to act on a recognition of oneself as one among equal others and estimable only insofar as one is virtuous

One might wonder whether this isn't a rather desperate response to a worry that is inappropriately brought to Aristotle's text. At first glance, it might seem that Aristotle is no more in danger of being a "rational egoist" than Thomas Reid is of being a Hobbesian. And one might think that someone who approached the text in order to resolve an alien worry would be almost guaranteed not to arrive at a sound interpretation.

Whiting of course has to deal with all of those texts in the NE VIII and IX which assign some kind of priority to self-love, or that describe friendship as extending outwards to others, from self-love and from affection within the family, often on the basis of similarity and commonality, rather than "impartial" virtue (e.g. the affection of two brothers for each other, simply because they have the same parents)--the texts that have led some scholars recently to argue that the Stoic theory of oikeiosis has its roots in Aristotle. Some of this contrary evidence she ignores in her essay; other passages she tries to explain away or interpret in a novel manner, more consistent with her view.

I'll examine some of her interpretations in subsequent posts, to see whether they withstand scrutiny.

But here's something for today. Whiting writes as follows:

We may better appreciate Aristotle's strategy once we note a common error in recent translations of VIII.1. After saying that philia seems to belong by nature to parents in relation to their offspring, and to offspring in relation to their parents, Aristotle says that such philia (perhaps including natural philia more generally) occurs
not only among human beings, but also among birds and most animals, and [among] those belonging to the same clan [tois homoethnesi], especially human beings; whence we praise those who are lovers of humankind [philanthropous]; for one might see in traveling widely that every human is oikeion to every other and [likewise] dear [philon] (VIII.1.1155a14-22).
Ross (1980) renders tois homoethnesi "members of the same race". Irwin and Rowe each replace this with talk of belonging to the same species. Irwin defends "species" by saying that "the rest of the paragraph shows that Aristotle has species in mind (i.e. friendship among dogs or human beings, rather than friendship among greyhounds or Greeks)" (1999: 273). But this misses Aristotle's point, which is that human beings stand out among animals as especially clannish. We are the most ethnocentric -- or, as Aristotle puts it, the most homoethnic--of animals. That is why we praise those who are (simply) philanthropos: they have managed to overcome this common but regrettable tendency (pp. 290-1).

First of all, as I mentioned, I wonder whether it is wise to charge a distinguished scholar such as W.D. Ross with an "error". Isn't this kind of language likely to be misleading, and provide a poor example, to students? [Note: I retract the highlighted phrase. See appended comment below.] What is at issue, surely, is rather the plausibility of a certain interpretation--how much weight one gives to which considerations; what 'antecedent probabilities' (Butler and Newman) are appropriately brought to bear on the text. And someone unfamiliar with Aristotle generally or with Greek might simply accept Whiting's assertion on her authority.

Second, Whiting's argument appears circular. She argues, in effect: the usual interpretation is not consistent with my interpretation, and therefore those who think otherwise "miss the point". Yet isn't Irwin's reasoning very much to the point? And it is not answered by anything that Whiting says in reply.

For my part, I would render tois homoethnesi as "of the same stock"--no more precision than that is needed, such as restricting the term to species. I would do so because of the order of considerations that Aristotle is presenting, which in my view is the following: (i) natural philia of parents for offspring; (ii) natural philia of offspring for parents; and (iii) natural philia of offspring toward each other. (I'll give the full context below, so that you can see this progession.) "Of the same stock", then, is supposed to refer to a broad range of phenomena that would fall under heading (iii), e.g. affection of siblings for each other; of cousins; of members of a clan; and also of the entire human race, viewed as having a common descent.

The order of reasons in the passage under consideration is exactly the same as in VIII.12. There a natural affection based on common descent, mentioned in the third place, is referred to as affection based on tau0ton ai(=ma kai\ r(i/zan, "the same blood and root" (1161b32). (Note that r(i/za is used to mean "race" or "family", as LSJ indicates. And isn't the older meaning of filanqrwpi/a that of an attitude of the gods toward the human race, taken as a single species?) Of course then Aristotle would be recommending affection not based on "impartial" virtue, and which varies as does the 'distance' someone has from oneself.

It furthermore seems quite unAristotelian to suppose that Aristotle here is suggesting that human beings should aim to overcome natural tendencies to affection--nowhere else in VIII and IX does he suggest any such thing, but just the contrary.

Note, finally, that Whiting's added "[likewise]" is an overtranslation. In the Greek there is only kai, "and". In my view this is meant to express a consequence: each human being belongs somehow to every other, and as a consequence each is naturally dear to everyone else. But it's better, I think, to render this simply as "and" and let the reader judge how that is to be interpreted.

Here's the Greek. I'll mark the progression of considerations:

fu&sei t' e0nupa&rxein e1oike [i] pro_j to_ gegennhme/non tw|~ gennh&santi kai\ [ii] pro_j to_ gennh~san tw|~ gennhqe/nti, ou) mo&non e0n a)nqrw&poij a)lla_ kai\ e0n o1rnisi kai\ toi=j plei/stoij tw~n zw|&wn, kai\ [iii] toi=j o(moeqne/si pro_j a1llhla, kai\ ma&lista toi=j a)nqrw&poij, o3qen tou_j filanqrw&pouj e0painou~men. i1doi d' a1n tij kai\ e0n tai=j pla/naij w(j oi0kei=on a3paj a1nqrwpoj a)nqrw&pw| kai\ fi/lon.

12 October 2006

But This Cannot Be the Correct Reading!

At issue is the antecedent of ta_ toiau~ta below ("such things", in bold) at NE 1157a25. Whiting says that it must refer to good things that are found in the best sort of friendship, and thus the ou)de\n kwlu&ei ("nothing hinders") clause is giving a reason in favor of, not against, the classification of friendships for utility or pleasure as friendships.

I maintain, rather, the correctness of the usual view, that ta_ toiau~ta refers back to bad things, and thus the ou)de\n kwlu&ei clause is giving a reason against counting utility or pleasure friendships as friendships. This is the view that Whiting asserts "cannot be the correct reading" and is "obviously" wrong.

In favor of the usual view, I give four reasons, based on the larger context of the passage:

(1) The usual view makes better sense of the structure of the larger context, because then Aristotle is drawing two contrasts, which have an A-B-B-A form (see below for the appropriate parsing). Each contrast involves asserting something that holds only of a friendship that good persons alone can enter into (I highlight these qualifications in red) and then juxtaposing this with an observation about how other sorts of friendships are different. (Clearly it makes little sense to juxtapose "only" with "also".)

(2) In the passage below, Aristotle is giving his resolution of the first aporia he had raised at the end of VIII.1, viz. Do like persons, or unlike persons, become friends? Aristotle had stipulated there that moral qualities alone were relevant for deciding the issue (whether someone was a good person or bad), rather than physical or non-moral qualities (hot, cold, being of the same species, being a potter). His resolution is that "friendship based on [the qualities of] the other (di' au(tou/j)" is possible only between good persons. (Thus Aristotle sides ultimately with the view that like persons become friends.) The other forms, tellingly, are open to persons no matter what their character. This then leads to the contrast: what a friendship which admits only good persons is like, versus what a friendship which admits persons of any sort of character is like, given that bad persons can enter into such friendships. The sentence, e0n de\ tai=j e9te/raij ou)de\n kwlu&ei ta_ toiau~ta gi/nesqai, then, is offering an observation about the other forms of friendship that follows precisely from the fact that they are open to bad persons as well as good. Thus it suggests a point of contrast, not similarity, between the other two forms and the best form.

(3) The nature of the contrast suggests the same conclusion. Aristotle is claiming that certain modal attributes apply to the best form, in virtue of the fact that only good persons can enter into such a friendship: it excludes slander; it excludes distrust; it excludes injustice. In contrast, "nothing prevents" these things from afflicting the other sorts of friendships because, in contrast, these bad persons are possible subjects of such friendships (fau&louj e0nde/xetai fi/louj a)llh&loij). But the contradictory opposite of "not possible" is "not necessarily not", that is, "nothing prevents"). That is, because bad persons are not hindered from entering into such friendships, bad things are not hindered from entering into the relationship. Thus, far from being impossible, the phrase "such things" is quite naturally taken to refer to bad things excluded from the best sort of friendship. (Yes, some of its antecedents are implicit. But this sort of lack of complete clarity--if one may call it that--is hardly unusual in Aristotle.)

(4) On the usual view, one can also explain the ga/r clause. What is that giving the reason for? What is it hooking back onto? Whiting's interpretation cannot give a very good explanation (note too that she fails to render the concessive kai/ in i1swj le/gein me\n dei= kai\ h(ma~j). Yet on the usual view, the ga/r clause is easy to explain. It is meant to give the reason for Aristotle's own usage (referring back to e0nde/xetai fi/louj, highlighted in blue), given that, as the two contrasts acknowledge, bad persons can enter into the other two forms and bad things afflict such relationships.

{A} di' h(donh_n me\n ou}n kai\ dia_ to_ xrh&simon kai\ fau&louj e0nde/xetai fi/louj a)llh&loij ei]nai kai\ e0pieikei=j fau&loij kai\ mhde/teron o(poiw|ou~n,

{B} di' au(tou_j de\ dh~lon o3ti mo&nouj tou_j a)gaqou&j: oi9 ga_r kakoi\ ou) xai/rousin e9autoi=j, ei0 mh& tij w)fe/leia gi/noito.

{B} kai\ mo&nh de\ h( tw~n a)gaqw~n fili/a a)dia&blhto&j e0stin: ou) ga_r r(a|&dion ou)deni\ pisteu~sai peri\tou~ e0n pollw|~ xro&nw| u(f' au(tou~ dedokimasme/nou: kai\ to_ pisteu&ein e0n tou&toij, kai\ to_ mhde/pot' a2n a)dikh~sai, kai\ o3sa a1lla e0n th|~ w(j a)lhqw~j fili/a| a)ciou~tai.

{A} e0n de\ tai=j e9te/raij ou)de\n kwlu&ei ta_ toiau~ta gi/nesqai.

e0pei\ ga_r oi9 a1nqrwpoi le/gousi fi/louj kai\ tou_j dia_ to_ xrh&simon, w3sper ai9 po&leij (dokou~si ga_r ai9 summaxi/ai tai=j po&lesi gi/nesqai e3neka tou~ sumfe/rontoj), kai\ tou_j di' h(donh_n a)llh&louj ste/rgontaj w3sper oi9 pai=dej, i1swj le/gein me\n dei= kai\ h(ma~j fi/louj tou_j toiou&touj, ei1dh de\ th~j fili/aj plei/w, kai\ prw&twj me\n kai\ kuri/wj th_n tw~n a)gaqw~n h|{ a)gaqoi/, ta_j de\ loipa_j kaq' o(moio&thta:


------- Ross Translation (with changes)-------
{A}
For the sake of pleasure or utility, then, even bad men may be friends of each other (fau&louj e0nde/xetai fi/louj a)llh&loij), or good men of bad, or one who is neither good nor bad may be a friend to any sort of person,

{B} but for their own sake clearly only good men can be friends; for bad men do not delight in each other unless some advantage come of the relation.

{B} The friendship of the good too and this alone is proof against slander; for it is not easy to trust any one talk about a man who has long been tested by oneself; and it is among good men that trust and the feeling that 'he would never wrong me' and all the other things that are demanded in true friendship are found.

{A}In the other kinds of friendship, however, there is nothing to prevent (ou)de\n kwlu&ei) such things from (ta_ toiau~ta) arising.

For (ga/r) men apply the name of friends even to those whose motive is utility, in which sense states are said to be friendly (for the alliances of states seem to aim at advantage), and to those who love each other for the sake of pleasure, in which sense children are called friends. Therefore we too (kai\ h(ma~j) ought perhaps to call such people friends, and say that there are several kinds of friendship-firstly and in the proper sense that of good men qua good, and by analogy the other kinds.

11 October 2006

Guest Blogger for the Day: Robin Waterfield

Does anyone out there know more about this than I do?

From John Montgomery’s introduction to his edited collection The State versus Socrates (Boston: The Beacon Press, 1954) [quite a fun collection of an earlier generation of scholars’ views on Socrates’ trial]:

Only a few years ago a Greek court tried to clear the national conscience by reversing the ancient conviction.

I’d appreciate knowing the details: which court, when, what prompted it – all that kind of thing.

Robin Waterfield

10 October 2006

Never Say Never Again

Today I raise a question of translation. Jennifer Whiting claims that a certain translation, the usual translation of a passage in Aristotle, simply "cannot" be correct. But is the impossible possible--or even likely?

I'll give you a couple of days to ponder this. Here is Whiting's discussion and translation of the passage (in blue), followed by the Greek (in red).

Now, suppose Whiting is wrong (as I think she is). Her discussion raises the question: How is it that scholars can claim that certain things are impossible, when they really are so? How can it be that a scholar says that X "cannot be the correct reading", or that X is "obviously" wrong, when X is actually the preferable reading? (Indeed, one might wonder: when should a scholar ever say that an interpretation or rendering--especially that usually supported by scholars--is not merely wrong or unlikely, but impossible and obviously wrong?)

From pp. 282-3 of Whiting's contribution to the Kraut anthology, "The Nicomachean Account of Philia":

The defense [of extending the term 'philia' to all three forms of friendship] culminates at VIII.4.1157a20-33:

[A] And only the philia of good people is immune to slander. For it is not easy to trust someone who has not been tested by oneself for a long time. But trusting belongs among these [i.e. good people], and so does never doing injustice to one another, and whatever else people think worthy of true friendship. [B] And nothing prevents such things coming to be in the other [forms]. For since people apply the term "friends" both to those who [are friends] dia what is useful ... and to those who are fond of one another dia pleasure ... we should presumably say that such people are friends and that there are several forms of friendship, first and in the controlling sense, the friendship of good people insofar as they are good, and the remaining [forms] according to their similarity [to this].
Most English translators take the italicized "such things" as referring to the sort of "distrust" (Irwin), "slander" (Rowe), or "evils" (Ross) that Aristotle has just said arise in the other forms of philia. So they read the "nothing prevents ... " sentence as summing up the reasons against counting the others as genuine forms of philia. They then read the rest of (B) as saying that we should nevertheless continue to call the others forms of philia.

But it should be clear from (A) that this cannot be the correct reading. For "such things" obviously refers back to "trusting ... and ... never doing injustice ... and whatever else people think worthy of true friendship". Aristotle's point is that even though such things do not always in fact belong to friendships based on pleasure or utility, nothing prevents such things sometimes belonging (even if only accidentally) to such friendships. And his "nothing prevents..." sentence is surely better read as supplying an argument for his ostensible conclusion (i.e., that there are several forms of friendship) than as posing an obstacle to it.

kai\ mo&nh de\ h( tw~n a)gaqw~n fili/a a)dia&blhto&j e0stin: ou) ga_r r(a|&dion ou)deni\ pisteu~sai peri\tou~ e0n pollw|~ xro&nw| u(f' au(tou~ dedokimasme/nou: kai\ to_ pisteu&ein e0n tou&toij, kai\ to_ mhde/pot' a2n a)dikh~sai, kai\ o3sa a1lla e0n th|~ w(j a)lhqw~j fili/a| a)ciou~tai. e0n de\ tai=j e9te/raij ou)de\n kwlu&ei ta_ toiau~ta gi/nesqai. e0pei\ ga_r oi9 a1nqrwpoi le/gousi fi/louj kai\ tou_j dia_ to_ xrh&simon, w3sper ai9 po&leij (dokou~si ga_r ai9 summaxi/ai tai=j po&lesi gi/nesqai e3neka tou~ sumfe/rontoj), kai\ tou_j di' h(donh_n a)llh&louj ste/rgontaj, w3sper oi9 pai=dej, i1swj le/gein me\n dei= kai\ h(ma~j fi/louj tou_jtoiou&touj, ei1dh de\ th~j fili/aj plei/w, kai\ prw&twj me\n kai\ kuri/wj th_n tw~n a)gaqw~n h|{ a)gaqoi/, ta_j de\ loipa_j kaq' o(moio&thta: