Aristotelian Ethics without the Function Argument

One of the curious consequences of Broadie's emphasis from the start on "flourishing", is that the Function Argument, and any application of critera for eudaimonia (most goal-like, self-sufficient, most preferable), drop out of her exposition of the basic argument of NE.

She depicts Aristotle as arguing, simply: "The point of human life is flourishing. But flourishing is virtuous activity." She agrees that this looks unsatisfactory:

A non-question-begging anthropological picture [sc. of flourishing] fails to generate a unique narrowly substantial account of the human good. In particular, it fails to justify the account for which Aristotle himself eventually settles: one that (a) equates flourishing with, predominantly, the activity of virtue, "virtue" being understood as meaning courage, moderation and the rest, and above all justice; and (b) interprets these qualities in the ordinary moralistic sense (343-4).

In particular, there are ostensibly other varieties of flourishing:

But there are those who "by any ethological standard of the bright eye and the gleaming coat [are] dangerously flourishing" (Williams, 1985: 46): people who are ruthless and dishonest, but intelligent, well-organized, achievers of their goals, enjoying life. What about them? As contemporary ethicists, we wonder how Aristotle imagines he can get away with his equation [sc. of flourshing with virtuous activity-MP]. If, by a supposedly logical transition from "living [or functioning] well" (eu) to "living [or functioning] in accordance with virtue" (kat' areten), then the equation rests on an equivocation between the philosopher's formulaic sense of the virtue of an X--that whereby an X is or functions as a good one--and what the ordinary person understands by "virtue" as applied to human beings. A hedonist would or should argue that living or functioning well is living or functioning pleasantly, with "the (formulaic) virtue in accordance with which" understood as the capacity (or set of capacities) for pleasure. Some hold that living well is living splendidly, which they identify perhaps with wielding power and the "triumph of the will"; or with the glamor of elegance and "cool"; the virtues, for them, correspond (344).

Broadie seems to conclude that Aristotle's "equation" does indeed beg the question. He accepts it because he accepts it:

...Aristotle pushes ahead with the equation "flourishing is virtuous [in the ordinary sense] activity" because he is a person with a certain set of values (which he can defend up to a point, though there is no reason to believe conclusively), and he is addressing a likeminded audience or readership (345).

Yet rather than regarding this attitude or approach (sometimes called "internalism") as philosophically suspect, Broadie ascribes it to "lost innocence":

Contemporary theorists may be disappointed, or they may be put on their mettle, by the epistemological simplicity, or crudity, with which Aristotle sets up the basic proposition of the NE. In this respect, Aristotle is not, I think, a philosophical model that we in any straightforward way can follow. In this respect, he is a reminder of lost innocence, but not a leader back to it. There is, however, no shortage in the NE of philosophical refinement and dexterity once we are within the framework of Aristotle's basic proposition (347).

Against "Flourishing"

I give six reasons why Aristotelian eudaimonia is not well captured by "flourishing". These deficiencies are so great that, in my view, that rendering should be avoided--it is better simply to transliterate or to re-educate as to one possible (and perhaps the preferable) use of "happiness".

(Understand always below: eudaimonia as used by Aristotle.)

1. Eudaimonia is an absolute term, "flourishing" is relative. There is a single standard of eudaimonia in the universe, and what human beings can achieve counts as eudaimonia to the extent that they approximate to this. In contrast, "flourishing" is species-relative: each species flourishes, if at all, in its own way, without any species serving as the standard for all others.

Broadie in a sense agrees: "it would be a mistake to propose "flourishing" as the preferred translation for eudaimonia in general. The world excellently captures the narrower idea of human eudaimonia, but -- as Aristotle does not allow us to forget -- eudaimonia was ascribed to the gods as well as to the best and most successful humans." But it's too weak to say that Aristotle merely "ascribes" eudaimonia to the gods as well: he takes the gods to provide the true case of it.

2. Eudaimonia has a double function, which "flourishing" does not admit. Sometimes it is said that Aristotle 'equivocates' in his use of eudaimonia: he uses it to characterize both (i) a life as a whole and (ii) a distinct sort of activity (sc. the actualization of the virtue of sophia). But it's probably better to hold that the word can intelligibly be used in these related senses. Note that we do have words in English that function in a similar way. Think of "success": it's intelligible to say both that someone's life as a whole is a "success", and that some of his distinct achievements count as a "success". And we would naturally say that his life was a success because of the presence of success within it. But "flourishing" cannot coherently be used in this way.

3. "Flourishing" does not match correctly the connotations of eudaimonia deriving from its etymology. Eudaimonia is variously taken to signify in its origin either (i) "favored by a divinity" or (ii) "having a favored divinity (sc. spirit within)". (i) connotes that someone has been given something as a gift, or has been favored by good fortune, whereas flourishing, even if it suggests fragility, as Broadie says, connotes neither of these things. (ii) connotes that something special within us or somehow set apart is well off. This is connected with the notion of an absolute standard for eudaimonia, which, as we have seen, "flourishing" fails to capture.

4. "Flourishing" has connotations which would be inaccurately imputed to eudaimonia. Because it is involves basically a vegetable metaphor, "flourishing" suggests the manifestation and unfolding of something already contained within. (Note that it does not, itself, even suggest fruitfulness.) But Aristotle does not conceive of eudaimonia in this way (it's rather something like an achievement), nor is eudaimonia, pace Irwin, a matter of 'self-actualization' or 'self-realization'.

5. We cannot "flourish" except at the height of our physical powers, but eudaimonia has no such restriction. When Thomas Reid, 75 years old and nearly enfeebled, retired from lecturing at the University of Glasgow and had leisure at last to write out his lectures (which became his treatises on the Intellectual Powers and Active Powers), we might have been justified in ascribing eudaimonia to him, but it would have been an abuse of English to say that he was flourishing.

6. Eudaimonia is related to "blessedness", which cannot be construed as "flourishing". We must look to the adjectives as well as the substantives: Aristotle frequently pairs eudaimon with makarios, as if these were equivalent or very similar, and yet I should think it is clear that makarios does not mean "flourishing".

In any other case of a proposed rendering into English of a Greek term, if the rendering were similarly beset by difficulties of comparable seriousness, we would either reject it entirely or regard it as extremely unsatisfactory. That is why I find Broadie's talk of "the great Aristotelian idea of human flourishing" to be so puzzling--since "flourishing" is not Aristotle's idea and doesn't capture his idea.

But why do people so commonly say that eudaimonia is best rendered as "flourishing"? Not, I think, because "flourishing" suggests vulnerability (which Broadie stresses), but rather because people look for a term that indicates something which meets objective standards, is common for a species, and which is non-transient.

Francisco Gonzalez BACAP Lecture, Nov. 9

Boston College and the Boston Area Colloquium in Ancient Philosophy
present


“Plato’s Question of Truth (versus Heidegger’s Doctrines)”

Francisco J. Gonzalez
(Skidmore College, Saratoga Springs)


Commentator:
Gary M. Gurtler, S.J.
(Boston College)

Walsh Function Room, Boston College
Thursday, 9 November 2006 at 7:30 p.m.

Prof. Gonzalez’s public lecture will be preceded by a seminar on
The Sun Analogy:
Reading with and against Heidegger

Walsh Function Room
3:00-5:00 p.m.

Broadie on Flourishing

Sarah Broadie's contribution to the Kraut volume ("Aristotle and Contemporary Ethics"), is, I think, an illuminating investigation of some differences between Aristotle's approach to ethics and dominant views among contemporary moral philosophers (sc. in broadly 'analytic' departments).

To my mind it ranks with Kraut's essay, which I have already praised, and Malcolm Schofield's "Aristotle's Political Ethics", as one of the truly fine contributions to the volume. (Anthony Price's piece on akrasia deserves special mention also.)

Unfortunately, Broadie phrases her question: What are the "parts of our Aristotelian legacy that we can wholeheartedly continue to endorse"? That's not a coherent question, because "we" lack unanimity on fundamental questions of ethics and philosophy.

Moreover, to use "we" in this way risks begging questions and--I am confident Broadie does not intend this--imposing a kind of intellectual rule by numbers. Perhaps in a later post I'll extract passages in which Broadie indicates what "we" can or cannot continue to accept, to show how such claims are indeed quite controversial, but mask the controversy.

Today, however, I wish simply to draw attention to the first "part of our Aristotelian legacy" that Broadie thinks "we" can largely continue to endorse, viz. eudaimonia as "flourishing".

I'll quote the passage in full below. Two things about it strike me as odd. First, Broadie writes as though "the concept of flourishing" is Aristotle's idea, whereas that is indicated by an English word, and what is at issue is whether "flourishing" signifies, or can signify, what Aristotle meant by eudaimonia. When you read Broadie's description of "the concept of flourishing," in this confessedly very beautifully written passage, you might find yourself wondering whether it isn't expressing an idea from Broadie, not Aristotle. Isn't the tone and outlook of NE, but for a chapter or two in book I, perhaps, very different?

Second, Broadie writes as if "we" can indeed continue to endorse Aristotle's notion of "flourishing", even as she draws attention to several disanalogies between our notion of "flourishing" and his of eudaimonia. But on what grounds do we say that these disanalogies are not crucial? One might wonder: Is the "concept of flourishing" a "seed" taken from Aristotle, as Broadie calls it, or something more like the husk?

Here is the passage:

Let us begin with a possession which it seems can hardly grow old: the great Aristotelian idea of human flourishing, or simply flourishing for short, since here we are setting aside the biological flourishing of plants and non-rational animals. To speak of flourishing in the human context is to speak, of course, of eudaimonia. Yet it would be a mistake to propose "flourishing" as the preferred translation for eudaimonia in general. The world excellently captures the narrower idea of human eudaimonia, but -- as Aristotle does not allow us to forget -- eudaimonia was ascribed to the gods as well as to the best and most successful humans. The idea that gods and (some) human beings are alike subjects of eudaimonia is probably not an assumption we today require in order to reach ethical conclusions, even of an Aristotelian sort. But we have to allow to Aristotle this assumption, since on it rests his final argument in the Nicomachean Ethics identifying the most perfect form of human flourishing.

Now, it cannot be correct to speak of god or the gods as "flourishing." Why not? For exactly the reason why that word works so well for specifically human eudaimonia: what flourishes is what grows and dies and depends on an environment and can come to grief; all of which is true of humans. One does not need to believe in any god to feel the force of Aristotle's contrast, never far from the surface, between divine eudaimonia and the human kind which is the subject of the NE: in other words, to be constantly in mind of the universal human limitations and vulnerabilities, as well as potentialities. "Flourishing" alludes to all that. We are rational beings: but mortal, implanted in an environment, at its mercy through our bodies, born in thrall to the sensations and instinctual emotions necessary for bare survival, requiring constant care and replenishment, utterly dependent for our development on somewhat more mature versions of ourselves--that is, on beings with, at best, many of the same infirmities, and wielding no more than human capacities of understanding and protection. These conditions, and the resulting needs, longings, general patters of relationship and authority, constitute the context for realizing any eudaimonia that might be open to humankind. Thus the concept of flourishing points both toward our highest aspirations and toward the mortal life-form in terms of which any of our aspirations are to be achieved.

So we have from Aristotle the seed--and more than just a seed--of a truly sound and fruitful approach to the question of human well-being ... (p. 342).

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.

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.

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."

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'.

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.

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?"

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.

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.

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.

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...

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).

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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),