politicaltheory-blog-blog - Tumblr blog

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 3.2-3

A. The question is whether virtue and vice are voluntary. Everything in the account so far indicates that they are; Aristotle seeks to demonstrate that this is so. People ostensibly desire what they believe is good; the good is the name for the desired end of action. But do people desire what is really good, or only what appears good to them? The trick of the argument is that what is really good is what appears good to the excellent person. The excellent person is the one able to judge rightly what is good in each case, while the base person is unable to do so. So it is not a question of some universal standard of the good, handed down from outside anyone's experience. It is a question of some particular, excellent person's experience. The standard is a personal one. It is not relativism, because the excellent person is right about the good, and the base person is wrong. But what is good is nonetheless relative to particular persons. This must be the case, because we are asking what the good is, which means we are asking a particular person to tell us what the good is, which means we are trusting that person to know what the good is - but to know what the good is, one must be "good at knowing what the good is." This is a crucial argument.

B. Less abstractly, we can ask whether we are responsible for actions that are "in our character." Aristotle says we are, because we are responsible for our characters. In the same way, a drunkard is not responsible for the actions committed in the ignorance of his drunkenness, but he is still responsible for getting drunk in the first place. So we still blame him for what he does. There is a distinction here between actions and states. We are directly responsible for actions, but indirectly responsible for states. We create the conditions that give rise to states, which linger and direct our actions. "Character" is a state that produces certain kinds of actions. An excellent character produces excellent actions. And an excellent character is an excellent judge of what is good to do in a particular situation. This power of judgment is gained by experience, just as a craftsman becomes a good judge of how much to bend the wood for a bow, how much stone to shave for the nose of the statue, etc. 

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 3.2-3

A. In the biologist's classificatory style, Aristotle distinguishes "decision" from emotions, desires, appetites, and beliefs. Clearly a decision is not an appetite, since we often decide against our appetites, and since appetites are shared with animals, but decision is proper to adult human beings.  A decision is not an emotion, because actions caused by emotions seem least of all to express decision. (60) A decision is not a desire, since we can desire impossible things, but we cannot decide to do them. A decision is not a belief, since we can also believe in impossible things, but cannot decide anything about them. Also, we have beliefs about many things, possible things too, that cannot be affected by our decisions. Beliefs can be true or false, but decision is to do with action, and can be good or bad. Also, we decide on something [even] when we know most completely that it is good; but [what] we believe [is] what we do not quite know. (61) And it is our decisions to do what is good or bad, not our beliefs, that make the characters we have. (61)

B. Decision is a voluntary action, but of a distinct kind: all decisions are voluntary, but not all voluntary actions are the result of decisions The distinguishing factor is that decisions follow deliberation. Deliberation is about the means to ends, where the means are in our power. We have an end in mind, and we deliberate about possible courses of action. We trace chains of means back to ourselves as the first cause - this is what we discover in deliberation. If we discover that some link in the chain is not in our control, then deliberation means abandoning or modifying that course of action. We do not deliberate about impossible things. We do not deliberate about necessary things - about givens that we cannot change. Interestingly do not deliberate about what human beings in general should do, or about what other human beings should do; we deliberate about what we should do. And we do not deliberate about the meaning of every step along the way, e.g., about whether this is a loaf or is cooked the right amount; for these things are questions for perception, and if we keep on deliberating at each stage we shall go on without end. (63-4) Also, deliberation traces the first cause not just to ourselves as the actor, but to the dominant part; in a group of persons, we trace the first cause to the dominant part of the group, to the part with the power to act. 

C. At the end, there is a desire involved in decision: this is a deliberative desire.

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 3.1

A. Virtue is about feelings and actions, which are praised or blamed according to whether they are voluntary or involuntary. So we need to know what counts as voluntary and involuntary. Obviously these are political questions, since they matter for questions of law. 

B. Aristotle makes a number of subtle distinctions which are, on this particular morning, a bit hard to follow (sleep was reluctant last night). First, while external force makes an action involuntary, a condition of duress does not. The famous example of the ship's crew throwing the cargo overboard in a storm is given in this section. Presumably, if another person or a gust of wind took the captain's arm and physically forced it to throw the cargo overboard, the action would be involuntary. But throwing it overboard in order to save the ship, something he would not have chosen to do outside of this constraining situation, does not count as involuntary. Note that we might praise the captain for acting wisely in this situation, or blame him for failing to do what was necessary. The argument is similar for the other usual situations that serve as examples: torture, blackmail, etc. We would not take such actions if it were not for the situation, but that does not mean the actions are involuntary. If they were, much of our moral vocabulary would make little sense. Thus, "mixed" actions - actions which mix voluntary movement with a constraining situation - are on the whole voluntary. (54)

C. Aristotle also takes up the question of ignorance: if we are ignorant of consequences, do we act voluntarily? He makes several distinctions, the most important one being between ignorance of a universal and ignorance of particulars. One might not know that murder is bad, but this doesn't make his action 'involuntary." On the other hand, if one didn't know that his action would result in someone else's death, the action may be involuntary: in fact we reserve the word "murder" for the first case and "death" or some other term for the second. The particulars of which someone may be ignorant have to do with the nature of the action, the consequences, and other details. 

D. All of this is fairly commonsensical. One thing added at the end is that actions that express rational calculation are no more voluntary than actions that express emotions. We cannot say, at least not in an unqualified way, that our emotions "drive us" to action. Action committed out of passion is also voluntary. This appears to be a different standard than the one used to sometimes mitigate those "crimes of passion" that modern law distinguishes from crimes committed "in cold blood."

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 2.7-9

A. The rest of Book II is used to clarify what it means for virtue to be an intermediate. The need for clarification becomes clear when we consider that the logic of this formulation is a bit complicated. Virtue is an intermediate between two vices, but this is to make virtue relative to each of these extremes. In this position, virtue itself is an extreme, relative to either the deficiency or the excess. This is clear, since in relation to the number 1, the number 3 is the extreme, while the number 2 would be the mean. But in relation to the number 5 and the number 1, 3 is the mean. That the virtue is relative to the vices means that all reasoning about virtue must be contextual, and that the general outlines drawn here can only be that: general outlines, insufficient to determine what is the virtuous action in each case. We can say that the virtue is a mean, but this "means" that the intermediate is a sort of extreme [in achieving the good] (45). 

B. As Aristotle gives a preview of his classification of the virtues, with their associated deficiencies and excesses, he introduces the very interesting idea that the vices "fight for the middle," as I would put it. That is, people at the extremes claim the intermediate area. (47) The fact that virtue is relative to vice, and in this position can itself appear to be, or be said to be, an excess or a deficiency, those who lack the virtue can defend themselves by trying to rename their own position as the virtue, and describe the mean as the extreme. That is why each of the extreme people tries to push the intermediate person to the other extreme, so that the coward, e.g., calls the brace person rash, and the rash person calls him a  coward, and similarly in other cases. (50) This is interesting because it introduces power and struggle into the pursuit of excellence. Virtue is not a realm outside the pursuit of power.

C. The final clarification is that some virtues are closer to one extreme than to the other. Rashness is closer to bravery than cowardice is. That the virtue is a mean does not mean it occupies an exact middle position. This becomes important when we consider how to pursue virtue in a practical sense. Aristotle's advice is to consider which extreme is more opposed to the mean, and also which extreme we are more prone to naturally "drift" toward (whether because that is the human tendency, or the tendency of our own personalities). Then, just as we would when we bend a piece of wood (or, to give the modern example, when we drive a car), we find the middle by correcting for the biggest deficiency, in a continuous way, until things are made straight. For if we pull far away from error, as they do in straightening bent wood, we shall reach the intermediate condition. (52) 

D. Surely I am not the only one to note the reference going forward to Kant's "crooked timber of humanity."

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 2.5-6

A. Virtue here is classified as a condition arising out of the soul. There are three conditions from the soul - an assertion, per usual, which is not defended. These classifications always strike me as a bit presumptive. Perhaps classification in general strikes me in this way - how do you know that there are three, and that you haven't missed a category? And why do you state it as as if it is a fact of observation, when it is in fact a concept used to observe? But maybe I need to grow up about this. Admit that it's possible and useful to classify without mistaking one's categories for an objective truth discovered in nature. One "discovers" categories, but this does not mean committing oneself against their future revision. Perhaps it's time to get over my knee-jerk aversion to science, and just go with it.

B. To return: virtue is one of three conditions that come from the soul (is it important that they are not conditions of the soul?). These three conditions are states, feelings, and capacities. Feelings are easy to understand - anger, resentment, love, etc. A capacity here means our capacity for experiencing a range of emotion - how much anger we are capable of feeling, etc. A state is what we have when we are well or badly off in relation to feelings. So we must admit is possible to be too angry, or not angry enough. A virtue is not a feeling, because virtues involve decisions, and we are praised and blamed for virtues. Feelings come unbidden, and we are not praised or blamed for having them. Virtue is not a capacity, since these are set by nature. Virtue involves a decision. Virtue is a state. From the start, then, virtue subordinates feelings to the human telos. The idea of a state of the soul here implies teleology, since there must be some standard by which the state is judged good or bad, some standard apart from the feeling itself, and yet not apart from the human being him or herself. This, by the way, seems to be the extreme to which modern thought rushes in its move away from teleology. Was that what MacIntyre was talking about in his diagnosis of emotivism? Modern ethics, rejecting the notion of telos, has no good moral account of the emotions. Either our emotions are themselves the standard, or else emotions have nothing to do with goodness, and the standard is outside of human life altogether. Virtue ethics, appropriately enough, offers a middle way!

C. These digressions aside: the virtue of the human being will likewise be the state that makes a human being good and makes him perform his function well. (42) We return to the notion of craft, with which virtue can be both compared and contrasted: virtue, like nature, is better and more exact than any craft. (43) It is like a craft in that it seeks for the mean (and, it bears repeating, the golden mean is not absolute, but the mean relative to us, not to the object). It seeks for the mean because the mean is what achieves excellence. A flute that is too long or short or fat or thin or whatever - too much or too little of something - will not be an excellent flute. A human being that is in a state (at a particular moment? or considered over the span of the lifetime?) that achieves human excellence is a virtuous human being. This means feeling the right things, toward the right people, at the right times, for the right reasons.

D. This leads to the idea that there are many ways to be bad, and only one way to be good - just as there are many ways to miss the target, and only one way to hit the bull's eye. Straight is the path, narrow is the door . . .

E. So we get a definition of virtue as (a) a state that decides, (b) [consisting] in a mean, © the mean relative to us, (d) which is defined by reference to reason, (e) i.e., to the reason by reference to which the intelligent person would define it. (44) This last brought my thoughts to Nietzsche, who insisted that these Greeks defined good as what they themselves achieved, not by some standard outside their own excellence. If this is right, and if Aristotle were to admit it is right (would he? since his emphasis is on excellence achieved by education into a particular culture?), then the obvious objection to (e) above disappears. Or at least we must make a different objection, and aim it at the self-assertion that Nietzsche celebrated. 

F. This last is worth quoting and remembering: virtue finds and chooses what is intermediate. (45)

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 2.3-4

A. We are used to thinking that the good is something you do whether you want to or not. "Do the right thing," even if it hurts. We think of self-discipline as denying yourself pleasure, embracing pain for the sake of a higher goal. But this is not at all how Aristotle thinks of it. At least, this is only part of Aristotle's account, and the partiality turns it into something opposite. For Aristotle, one is not good if one does good things without enjoying them. One becomes good by doing good things, and this process involves denial. But the aim is pleasure, not pain. For if someone who abstains from bodily pleasures enjoys the abstinence itself, then he is temperate, but if he is grieved by it, he is intemperate. (37) This is not to say that being grieved by being temperate is unacceptable; rather, if you are still grieved, you have not yet become temperate. The goal of self-discipline is to learn to love what is good for you, not simply to do what is good for you. 

B. The claim is strange, for it seems as if we must be good before we can do what is good, just as we must be musicians before we can play music. But then how can we ever become good? The first  reply is that even with music, or any craft, it is possible to perform the craft's actions accidentally or by following instructions. Yet this does not count as practicing the craft. To play music as a musician, we must be expressing musical knowledge that is in us. (39) But this only introduces the second reply, which is that a virtue is not exactly like a craft. To perform a craft well, it is only the action that must be in the proper state, but to be virtuous, the actor himself must be in this good state. And also, a virtue is much less about knowledge than a craft; we do not need to know that what we do is virtuous so much as we need simply to do it. Here again is the subordination of explicit knowledge to practical activity. The overall point is clear; however, I am not certain what the distinction between craft and virtue really is. A craftsman also fails if he is so distracted by knowing what he is doing that he forgets how to do it. A virtue seems very like a craft. Aristotle seems to say that a virtue is like a craft, but it is more than a craft. For a virtue requires that a person decide on [virtuous actions] for themselves, and . . . he must also do them from a firm and unchanging state (40), while a craft does not really require this deciding-for-itself and this firm state of mind. Still, this does not clarify things for me. It appears to be more fruitful to think of a virtue like a craft, than to distinguish them.

C. Aside from that small confusion, all of this is very compelling. But left as is, it feels more like an excellent self-help book than a work of political science, which is what Aristotle claims it must be. So what makes it more radical? What makes it more radical, to modern minds that prioritize consent and explicit understanding of that to which we consent, is the insistence upon education as the formation of souls by discipline, not the filling of brains by instruction. And, worse still, it is the insistence that his education is the purview of politics. The idea of liberal political neutrality is nonsense on on this view. People must be formed into a culture, and this is an exercise of power - it is not done by consent, and cannot be done by consent, for the people to be formed have yet to develop the capacity to consent.

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 2.1-2

A. Virtue ethics is about habituation. The key concept is that we become virtuous by doing virtuous things; it is a practice. One does not have to be a good pianist before one starts to practice the piano. Rather, being a good pianist comes with practice. The same is true of being a good person. This is rather commonsensical, but it is not modern ethics. Modern ethics says that the good is to be found in one's intention (Kant) or in the consequences of one's action (Mill). Aristotle is saying something different. First, one's intentions are presumably themselves formed by habit. One does not simply "have" a will, pure and pristine. A will is formed by practice, even if one must also will oneself to practice. Refraining from pleasures makes us become temperate, and when we have become temperate we are most able to refrain from pleasures. (37) Second, connecting virtue to habit means that consequences cannot themselves be the determining ethical factor. For the consequence of an action may be bad, but the action may be part of a good habit. Possibly a consequentialist will have a semantic answer for this, and count good habits as a consequence to be weighed. But if consequentialism means that right and wrong are calculated in each moment, according to the consequences of each action, then there seems to be a substantive difference. I could stand more clarity on the distinction, however. I could probably explain the distinction between Kant and Aristotle quite clearly, but could I really get at the heart of the distinction between Aristotle and Mill?

B. Aristotle also repeats his prohibition on overly exact approaches to the subject matter: the purpose of our examination is not to know what virtue is, but to become good, since otherwise the inquiry would be of no benefit to us. This is to say that we cannot know what virtue is unless we are already virtuous. Practice precedes understanding of the practice. This, of course, is what Oakshott picks up on in his conception of the Rationalist - one who does not understand the priority of practice, and so proceeds in both arrogance and ignorance.

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 1.9

A. To understand happiness, we must understand virtue, because happiness is the activity of the soul expressing virtue. Political science takes happiness as its object (which is why it is the master science, because it orders the pursuits of the other sciences toward this goal), and so political scientists must study virtue. To understand virtue, we must talk about the soul - or, at least, the virtues with which we are concerned are the virtues of the soul.

B. The usual scheme of dividing the soul into its hierarchy of parts is put forth, but the first thing to note is how carefully Aristotle says that it does not matter whether these are real distinctions or just a conceptual one. This goes back to the limits on the need for exactness (p. 4), which he recalls in this passage: But he must study [the soul] for the purpose [of inquiring into virtue], as far as suffices for what he seeks; for a more exact treatment would presumably take more effort than his purpose requires. (30)

C. As for the division itself, there are the non-rational and rational parts of the soul, and each of these parts is subdivided.  The lowest part of the non-rational is simply physical, the cause of nutrition and growth (30), and unresponsive to reason. This is common to all living things, and not useful for distinguishing good from bad people, since all have it (witness the fact that we all sleep, which is to say, we all spend a third of our lives not under the control of our non-rational parts). The higher part of the non-rational is amenable to reason's direction, but is not rational itself. It struggles against reason, and must be brought under rational control. The relationship between this part and the rational part helps make distinctions between kinds of persons, so that in the continent person it obeys reason; and in the temperate and the brave person it presumably listens still better to reason, since there it agrees with reason in everything. (32) The important thing about this higher part of the non-rational is that it is distinct both from the lower, fully non-rational part, and from the higher, rational part. The lowest part is plant-like (32), while the higher but still non-rational part is the appetitive, desiring part. 

D. The rational part is also divided into two sub-parts, one that has reason to the fullest extent by having it within itself, and another [that has it] by listening to reason as to a father. (32) The importance of this distinction is that it mirrors the types of virtue - virtues of character, and virtues of thought. While this will be clarified in the next chapter, I presume that virtues of character correspond to the lower part of the rational part, while virtues of thought correspond to the higher part - to rationality itself. 

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 1.8

Three comments on this chapter:

A. The extended discussion of the question whether we should "call no man happy until he is dead," which strikes the modern reader as stupid, is precisely because of its strangeness a useful clue. Follow this clue, and it will give more clarity to our reading. Such clarity as I have now leads me to suggest that happiness must be reflective of the whole life for the same reason that it must not be the product of fortune. [We hesitate] out of reluctance to call him happy during his lifetime, because of the variations, and because we suppose happiness is enduring and definitely not prone to fluctuate, whereas the same person's fortunes often turn to and fro. (25)

B. And yet, fortune does matter, even if it is not determinative. Fortune matters - in the sense that, without some good fortune, we cannot be happy - because fortune affects our capacity to act, and happiness is activity expressing virtue. Fortune is not determinative, because one of the ways that we act toward virtue is to bear fortunes most finely (25). Fortune means that we can be happy or "blessed," but not as God is blessed, only blessed as the human being is. (27)

C. The distinction between praiseworthy and honorable things is crucial. Happiness is not praiseworthy, because we praise things for their relationship to some good, some standard of praiseworthiness. But happiness is the standard, is the good according to which actions are judged praiseworthy or not. Therefore happiness is to celebrated or honored, not praised. Does this mean that happiness is "beyond good and evil"? We praise as good those actions which make us happy. Here is what Nietzsche saw in the ethics of the ancients which was so different from the modern ethics of pity. Good and evil are judged by their contribution to our happiness, rather than happiness being judged by a standard of good and evil. 

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 1.7

A. One can see how it helps if your own theory encompasses all the others. It reduces the number of counterarguments, and shows your position is stronger than others but not hostile to them. But one might ask why Aristotle thinks it's logically important that a theory of ethics accord with common views. A scientist does not use common views about the physical world to construct theories that explain it. Rather, common views are more often the target of deconstruction. The common view was that the earth revolved around the sun; scientific theory did not count if a virtue if it could incorporate that view, but rather took pride in rejecting it despite its being popular. Why is ethics not the same? I suppose there is something about ethics, perhaps to do with the fact that it concerns goods, and goods are not only objective but are set by acts of valuation (though this does not make them subjective).  But am I importing too much into the story?

B. The common beliefs about happiness with which Aristotle's account jives are: (1) that the goods are of three types - external goods, goods of the soul, and goods of the body; (2) that happiness as the end of virtue, of intelligence, of wisdom, or pleasure, of external prosperity, or of some mix of these, which are mixes of two or more of the three types of goods. 

C. An example of the disagreement between Aristotle and modern, Kantian philosophy: And just as Olympic prizes are not for the finest and strongest, but for contestants, since it is only these who win; so also in life [only] the fine and good people who act correctly win the prize. (20) And again, no one would call him just, e.g., if he did not enjoy doing just actions, or generous if he did not enjoy generous actions, and similar for the other virtues. (21) This is in direct contrast to Kant's idea that only the will is good, that it is not action but intention that matters. In virtue ethics, it matters what you do, and that you enjoy doing it. It is not enough to intend, and if you hate doing what you know is good, then there is something wrong - your soul is not integrated (and perhaps that is a good description for much of modern ethics: a moral code for the soul disintegrated by Christian guilt).

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 1.6

A. These brief notes about method are profound, because we (I) tend to ignore them when we (I) think about ethics. Not that they are rules which cannot be contested. But they are rules which are not often applied, and our ignorance of them may deprive us of their usefulness. First, there is the idea that we can in fact make "progress" in ethical enquiry. This may be surprising, when we are used to critics deeply informed by Aristotle objecting to modern ideas about scientific progress in the human sciences. But the idea of progress here set out may be a bit different, less robust - not an expectation of eventual perfection. Aristotle offers a "sketch," to be filled in later. 

B. The idea that the picture could ever be complete is belied by the next passage, which rejects any notion that the progress we might make would be toward an "exact" knowledge of the subject. The subject determines the method. I was just reading MacIntyre's Three Rival Versions, and he describes the Encyclopaedia version of moral enquiry as one that conceives of all enquiry as following the same method. Aristotle thinks differently: there is a method for every enquiry, but it must be appropriate. Why can't we seek the same sort of exactness in ethics as we do in, say, geometry? It is not fully spelled out, but the example does indicate something. The carpenter does not need as much precision in his right angles as the geometer, and this is because the carpenter seeks what is useful for building a house, while the geometer seeks truth. Presumably, what we are seeking in ethics is more like what the carpenter seeks.

C. It is also a relief to find out that we do not need to keep regressing to a more original first principle. In moral enquiry, we need not commit to the toddler's perpetual why. Rather, in some cases it is enough to prove that something is true without explaining why it is true. (18) Again, the degree to which we must travel back is set by the object of our enquiry. We do not need a Big Bang before we can start talking about ethics. Different origins are studied in different ways - he mentions induction, perception, and some sort of habituation (18). Knowledge of origins, it seems, is something that we use for some particular activity, and it is the activity that determines what method we use to achieve that knowledge. For if we use the wrong method, we may undermine the activity itself. So perhaps, when we seek for an absolute starting point, we are distracting ourselves from the activity of enquiring into ethics. Put differently: seeking for an absolute starting point is a different sort of activity from inquiring into ethics, and we just can't do both at once. 

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 1.5

A. The good is the end of action, that for the sake of which the other things are done, and in every action and decision it is the end. (13) Aristotle's definition of the good is very easy to understand, but let us note that it seems to be very formal. It's a placeholder. We do things, and then define the good in terms of what we do. Whatever we do, there is a good that is associated with it. But it cannot be that simple. 

B. Aristotle adds that we can grade goods according to completeness. This introduces more substance into the discussion. To say that the good is the end of action seems to deprive the word "good" from its moral meaning. On the formal definition, the good of shooting someone is that they will be killed, the good of poisoning yourself is that you will die, and so on. The action itself has nothing to do with whether its end is "good" - it only defines the end as "the" good of that particular action. But with the idea of "completeness," we introduce some moral consideration back into the picture. Higher goods are able to stand in judgment of lower goods, such that if we pursue an action that prevent us from obtaining a higher good, or in such a way that we are prevented, then we can say that the good we are seeking in that action is "bad." So if I poison myself, obtaining the lower good of being dead prevents me from obtaining a higher good. (This is just an example - probably in reality there are situations in which poisoning oneself does produce a higher good).

C. The criterion of completeness leads us to consider "that for the sake which" an entire human life is lived. Smaller actions take their place within, are judged as parts by the whole of, the action of living a human life. So we must ask about "that for the sake of which" we live. Now, the only word we have to describe this is "happiness," but this doesn't help us much, since we use the word to mean different things. So the task is to get clear on what happiness, as the end of human life, really means. Presumably, the criterion of completeness will also help in this task, at least by telling us what happiness can't mean.

D. The brief aside about self-sufficiency may be important, or at least useful. Complete is another word for self-sufficient: whatever is complete does not need anything else to be itself. If happiness is complete, it must encompass the self-sufficient life. However, since a human being is a naturally political [animal], (15) the self-sufficient life is one lived in a political community.

E. The human "function" must be more than simply being alive (which we share with plans) or having sense-perception (which we share with animals). Aristotle concludes that our function is some sort f life of action on the [part of the soul] that has reason. (16) He offers another small, clarifying remark which is probably standard in Greek philosophy, but which nevertheless struck me with special clarity. At least I found it interesting. This is that the part of the soul that has reason is in fact divided into two sub-parts, one as obeying the reason [in the other part], the other as itself having reason and thinking. (16) So Aristotle's "reason" is both the commanding and the obeying element. This is obviously central to the concept of self-discipline: it is rational to obey ourselves (to obey our rational selves), but the act of obedience is itself an act of reason. And it is an act, not a passive acquiescence. 

F. We get finally to the definition of happiness as the human good, and it is this: the human good turns out to be the soul's activity that expresses virtue. (17) The introduction of the concept of virtue takes place here. Just as we can identify the function of a harpist, we can identify an excellent harpist, which is a harpist who performs her function well, with "excellence." So also, if the human life is the larger activities the end of which is the human good, then we can identify an "excellent" human being, and this excellence is the virtue of acting as a human being. There may be one or many of these virtues, but the idea of virtue itself will be crucial to the Ethics. 

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 1.4

A. Everyone agrees that the highest good is happiness, but they disagree about what happiness is. The aim is to get at the nature of happiness as the highest good.The question is whether we should argue from origins, or toward origins. Aristotle believes we must argue toward them, simply because we do not yet know them. This passage is worth quoting in full: For while we should certainly begin from origins that are known, things are known in two ways; for some are known to us, some known unconditionally [but not known to us]. Presumably, then, the origin we should begin from is what is known to us. (6) This is the argument for starting with the ethics of one's own culture, not from some universal standpoint. The bit of this argument is in the word "know," for there is always a distinction between knowing something in the abstract, and knowing it, having a "personal knowledge," a la Michael Polanyi. Because ethics is about decisions and actions, not concepts, we must begin from personal, not conceptual knowledge. What is the knowledge that we enact when we make decisions - we, in our culture? We can work toward our abstractions from an account of that knowledge. Thus Aristotle proceeds, working from common beliefs (7) about the good. For, it would seem, people quite reasonably reach their conception of the good, i.e., of happiness, from the lives [they lead] . . .(7)

B. Is it the part of wisdom to work from particulars back to origins, while the many gain their confidence because they believe that they begin from origins which they know? Is the distinction between working from origins to conclusions v. from conclusions back to origins a mirror of the distinction between the vulgar and the wise? Perhaps it is also the part of youth to believe that concepts are enough, that we can simply begin with universals. But then, the critique of political science - of modern political science - will not be that we wish aim for theories that explain as many of the particulars as possible. That is not an instance of moving from rather than toward origins, undialectically. Rather, the undialectical move that we moderns indulge is starting from the concept that social science theories can inform political decisions. 

B.1 I think the above is wrong. The vulgar many are not people who argue from first principles. That is rather the temptation of the would-be wise, the immature philosopher. Perhaps genuine philosophers have more in common with the rabble than they do with their imitators. I like this thought very much. There is an idea that the truth, whether it is unformed or refined, has always some deep connection with truthfulness, and that this is a virtue that the philosophers and the common man can share - but the absence of that virtue marks out the imitators, the sophists, the Rationalists. Starting from generalities, from concepts, from universals given intellectual assent but not "personally known" - starting from these without doing the hard work of arriving there in a personal way, is an error which both the philosophers and the commoners avoid, but to which the would-be philosophers fall prey. 

C. The three forms of life that give rise to three rival conceptions of the good are the usual - pleasure, virtue, knowledge, which are the democratic, the aristocratic, and the philosophical life. We can dismiss (8) the life of money-making, since money is obviously a means to other goods, not a good in itself. This seems hasty, since there are plenty of people who love not money, but the making of it, and would seem to find their good there. But in fact it makes sense: if people love the life of making money, then they love the making of it, not the money itself, and this "making" must be part of some other conception of the good - probably part of the "life of action," since it does not fit under the lives of pleasure-seeking or of contemplation. 

D. The second part of the chapter is a series of counterarguments to Plato's theory of the Forms. As far as I understand it - which is not far at all - the objection goes something like this: we observe many things which are what they are only in relation to other things. But we conclude from this that there is also something like "being," which is not relative to anything else. (If we observe many things that have the quality of being "relative," then we conclude that there is also something called "relativity," which cannot itself be relative, at least not in the end.) Aristotle is identifying the problem that there must be some relation between the absolute and the relative, but that this indicates an infinite regress. I suppose Plato's theory of the Forms claims to solve this problem of regress, and Aristotle is saying that it cannot. For Aristotle, here is "the good," but it is not the form of the good.

E. Fortunately, Aristotle doesn't think it actually matters whether we resolve this issue, because even if the good predicated in common is some single thing, or something separated, itself in itself, clearly it is not the sort of good a human being can pursue in action or possess; but that is just the sort we are looking for in our present inquiry. (12) The good that ethics pursues is not a Form, and the proof is that we can be good without knowing what the form is. This only makes sense if we think of ethics as a practice. Just as the doctor is not interested in Health, but in this particular human beings health, and just as the doctor can improve a particular person's health without knowing what "Health" means, so we can pursue good without knowing what Good is. (But don't be confused: there is still "the good," as we have seen - it's the subject of political science. Apparently, when Aristotle describes "the good," he means only the controlling good of all the subordinate goods. The key is that "the good" for Aristotle is still a practical thing, something found in action - not an abstract understanding of what good in itself "is".)

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 1.2-3

A. If there is a highest good, then it behooves us to have a science for discovering it. This must be political science, because it prescribes which of the sciences ought to be studied in cities, and which ones each class in the city should learn, and how far. (2-3) This is the complete opposite of modern conceptions of politics, which remove the goods from the equation. Social science pursues knowledge of politics; politics is not thought (by social scientists) to legitimately dictate what knowledge should be pursued, how, and by whom, and for what purpose. This is the familiar debate, but it is good to see the other side presented, not negatively as a critique of modern political science, but as a positive statement of what was no doubt accepted as the obvious, before modern thought took hold. Unfortunately the presentation, the argument, is short and largely undefended - probably because it was not in such need of defense. 

B. Why is the good of the individual the same as the good of the city, but the common good is still finer and more divine?  (3) It cannot be because it is an aggregation of goods, and therefore a great volume of good, can it? The hierarchy of goods is based on what controls, what goods are "for the sake of" - not how much of the good is available. But then why does the common good control the individual good - or is that what he is suggesting? Again, the argument here is too short and undeveloped to fully grasp. 

C. The point about the possibility for "exactness" is wonderful. Political science cannot seek the exact knowledge of its object that other sciences may pursue. Not all sciences seek the same level of exactitude. The distinction between these levels and these sciences appears to be (again, the argument is not clear) a question not of sheer complexity, but of kind: the topics of inquiry in political science, differ and vary so much that they seem to rest on convention only, not on nature. And goods also vary in the same way, since they cause harm to many people. The nature of what political science seeks to know is such that its quality can change completely with context (what counts as context is another question). So political science seeks the good, the highest good - but we know that goods can turn into evils. The object can escape analysis by changing shape. Apparently this is not so for other sciences. The quality of a rock does not change while the geologist observes it. Yet the quality of a decision or an action may do precisely that. So our conclusions will be about what holds good usually [but not universally]. (4)

D. The nature of the subject also means that not everyone is equipped to fruitfully study it. This is why a youth is not a suitable student of political science . . . (4) One cannot understand the good by having an idea about it; goods are such that they are understood by experience. Oakshott draws from this argument when he describes the Rationalist. Modern political scientists are Aristotle's ill-equipped youths. And the fact that they are often old men is of no concern: here it does not matter whether he is young in years or immature in character. 

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Nichomachean Ethics, 1.1

A. Whatever is the end, is the good; the good is that which every action aims at. But actions can aim at other actions, or at products. If an action aims at a product, then the product is by nature better than the activity - not because products are better than actions, or because destinations are better than journeys, but because whatever lies beyond, at the end of, the activity, is better than the activity. The key is that the end is the end, whether it is an activity or a product. This argument makes it possible to avoid giving default moral priority to one over the other. It is possible for the ruling end to be a product, or to be an activity: it depends on what the activity aims at, and it is the case that activities can aim at other activities, or at themselves. When we contemplate the hierarchy of ruling ends, it does not matter whether the ends of the actions are the activities themselves, or some product beyond them . . . (2)

B. The idea is that activities cannot be understood without talking about ends. This is a point about the nature of understanding, not about the nature of ends. To understand something is to identify its ends: that is what understanding is doing. One might say deny that there are any such things as ends, that telos is an illusion of language - but, Aristotle, would say, one then also seems to deny the possibility of understanding itself. In that case, whatever we would be doing when we spoke of activities, we would not be understanding them. This is the situation of Meursault. Camus' stranger does not perceive - will not, can not recognize - the relations of activities and ends that make the world "meaningful." Whether he does not perceive these relations because he has broken through the illusion, or whether he has simply blinded himself to them - either way, the world is meaningless for him, and meaningless in this very specific sense. 

C. The idea of the "highest good" seems here to be something proposed, not proved. It is only a hypothesis: Suppose, then, that . . . this end will be the good, i.e., the best good. (2) Aristotle argues that if there is an end we pursue for itself, and not for the sake of some further end, and if we do not necessarily choose every thing with another thing in mind, then there is a highest good. The idea of the highest good is of course crucial, since it is the object of political science. So Aristotle rests his entire case on a very large an unproven assumption, offering only that if there were no such thing as a good chosen for itself, a final good, then it will go on without limit, making desire empty and futile. He seems to think it's just obviously the case that desire cannot be empty and futile, and that his reader will agree with him. Perhaps he will take up the argument later, but I suspect not. I suspect rather that this is the chink in the armor of those "ancient philosophers," the key assumption that Hobbes will challenge (and replace with his own, equally central, counter-assumption). 

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Politics, 8.7

A. The Politics closes with this discussion of music coming to end. Aristotle goes again into the details attending particular modes, arguing with Socrates about the inclusion of the Phrygian, and recommending the Dorian as the best mode for the training in virtue of the young. But there are some deeper points made here. 

B. First, the reminder of the complexity of Aristotle's argument. It is not that the content of music education should be determined only by whether it contributes to the development of virtue; music in fact serves several purposes, of which virtuous education is only one. Music is also for purification, which I suspect is translating "catharsis." Aristotle does not discount the value of the "frenzy," if frenzy can mean something that has an end. He also says that different modes speak differently to different people - some people's souls respond more to one mode than another, which is to say that one person may be more effectively "purified" by one mode than by another (and, as persons change with age and education, the mode that works best for them may also change - which leads us back to the question of education). 

C. Second, a more general reflection on what individuals should aim for (which is what "virtue" is - that which we should aim for). There are two aims, possible and appropriate; individuals should undertake things possible and appropriate [for them]. What is possible and what is appropriate depends on the person, including their age. This means that individuals should aim for that golden mean - but that the golden mean will be different for each person, in each situation, in each season of life. 

[politicaltheory-blog-blog]

Aristotle, Politics, 8.6

A. One never quite gets used to the attention given to music in a treatise on political theory. Of course the attention is on music education, not music itself, which makes more sense - but still, why does it matter so much that Aristotle get clear on exactly how those who are being educated to political virtue (238) are to be educated in music? Because the education for political virtue forms the soul, and in his (Greek) eyes, music forms the soul in an especially direct way, such that we can even make distinctions between virtuous and vicious modes and instruments (flutes are bad, because they lead to "frenzy" and do not involve speech; Athena threw hers away). 

B. The question for the educator is whether people should be trained to be musical experts, or rather trained just enough to be able to properly enjoy music (which is to be able to properly judge music). Aristotle thinks that the latter is preferable; experts are trained in order to be able to perform for others, which turns their art into something necessary. We feel the echo of this critique in demands for musical "authenticity," where one is "staying true to the music," and not just producing tunes that will satisfy the demands of the vulgar audience, and sell records. One should not need to play. Hence we judge the performance as not belonging to free persons but being more characteristic of the laborer. (239)

C. An intriguing aside: Later, it [the flute] was rejected as a result of the experience of it, when they were better able to judge what contributes to virtue and what does not. (239) The knowledge of virtue, then, comes (at least in part?) from experience; it is not achieved by theoretical insight (alone?). It is practical wisdom, and this must be constantly kept in the foreground of the mind while reading Aristotle. One cannot theorize what is virtuous; one must learn it by experience. This is why culture is so important for virtue ethics.