Aristotle and the expressivists

Aristotle and the expressivists 1. The Nicomachean Ethics is not called “The Nicomachean Ethics”. It is called ta êthika nicomacheia, “About character (êthos), edited by Nicomachus”. I agree with Anscombe, MacIntyre, and Williams that Aristotle doesn’t have our modern conception of “ethics” or “the moral”. That depends on our (a) moral/ natural, (b) moral/ prudential, and (c) categorical/ hypothetical distinctions. But Aristotle doesn’t think, even to a first approximation, (a) that the universe is neatly separable into a descriptive bit and a normative or evaluative bit; (b) that our motivations are neatly separable into a self-regarding bit and an other-regarding bit; or (c) that our reasons are neatly separable into a no-matter-what-we-want bit and a given-that-we-want-x bit. And he’s right. 2. In this paper I want to stage a philosophical encounter between Aristotle and expressivism. I characterise expressivism by its Ten Commitments (see below). If expressivism is an answer to the question “How does the moral relate to the natural?”, Aristotle isn’t asking this question, and would reject it if (per improbabile) we could translate it into his Greek. But maybe expressivists too should reject the modern conception of “the moral” and distinctions (a-c), so perhaps also rejecting their Commitments 3, 4, 5, and instead make distinctions more like Aristotle’s own? 3. What Aristotle has is his notion of practical philosophy. We could stipulate that this is all we mean by “ethics” or “the moral”; and then we could speak of Aristotle’s Ethics (and ethics). I suspect this usage perpetuates illusions like (a-c). It is good practice against them to reject the words “moral” and “ethics” at least sometimes. 4. Aristotle’s own main relevant distinctions are between (d) sophia and phronêsis, (e) excellences of intellect and of character, and (f) theoretical and practical thought, knowledge, and truth. 4. Sophia is scientific wisdom; phronêsis is practical wisdom. See Passage 1. Aristotle explicitly says that sophia is “higher”, “nobler”, “more exact”, and “more divine” than phronêsis; also that sophia is non-species-relative truth, whereas phronêsis is specifically human-relative truth. So, like many modern moral non-realists, he accepts scientism, and hence Commitments 8, 9, 10. Practical philosophy, for him as for us, is under pressure from science. 5. Aristotelian science begins in wonder (thaumazein, Mph 982b) and culminates in theology (Mph 12.7, see Passage 8); Aristotelian science is the locus of all sorts of epiphanies, even—famously—in the study of the lowliest creatures (dPA 645a17 ff.). Aristotle’s scientism is lush, not bleak like modern scientism. It too creates pressures on practical philosophy, but different ones. 6. Aristotle is an empiricist: he thinks all knowledge and meaningful language originate in experience, and he has a theory of ideas (phantasmata). See Passage 2. So does he think we have an idea/phantasma of good? 7. Not at any rate in the way we have an idea of “straight” or “white”—see Passage 1a again. Aristotle would think that G.E.Moore’s conception of good as “a simple quality”, like yellow, was about as obviously false as any philosophical thesis can be. But he would find G.E.Moore’s thesis that good is “a non-natural quality” not false but unintelligible: what, he would want to know, does “non-natural” mean? (Well, what does it mean?) 8. In Passage 1a Aristotle compares “good” to “healthy”, having two things in mind. First, goodness, like health, is species-relative. Secondly, goodness, again like health, is attributive (Passage 3) or syncategorematic (Passage 4). Or: it is a second-order property, a property that first-order properties get by themselves having the property of lining up/ coordinating a certain way. Health is when the first-order properties coordinate towards the functioning/ good functioning of the body. Goodness is when the first-order properties coordinate towards the overall human function, which we can call eudaimonia or (better, though less established in English) eupraxia. The business of making eudaimonia a more-than-merely-formal term (homologoumenon ti, NE 1097b23), by showing what this coordination is like—spelling out just what coordinations of first-order properties count as coordination towards the overall human function—is the specifying of what eudaimonia/ eupraxia is; and it’s the main business of much of the NE. 9. So can we have a phantasma of a second-order species-relative property like goodness? Sort of. See S23 below. 10. This conception makes goodness supervenient on first-order properties, which sounds interestingly like saying it’s supervenient on natural properties (cp. Commitment 7). 11. But it also seems to make goodness a descriptive property. How, understood this way, can goodness motivate? Where’s the connection between goodness and desire? (Cp. Commitment 6.) 12. As I’ve framed it, this is a modern problem. But Aristotle has an answer, one central to his practical philosophy. 13. See Passages 5, 6. All Aristotelian inquiries have natures, physeis, or essences, ousiai, as their first principles; the Aristotelian scientist studies some particular kind of nature or essence, and the interactions of that nature with its context. It’s all about how natures cash out in circumstances. In practical philosophy the essence or nature is the human one, defined with respect to its end, eudaimonia or eupraxia. And the question is always how that nature interacts with its political and social and natural context. 14. On its own, this makes practical philosophy sound too much like just another Aristotelian science. But here, to telos estin ou gnôsis alla praxis, “the goal is not acquaintance but action” (NE 1095a6). The difference with practical philosophy is that the question, how the nature interacts with its circumstances, is in this case a first-personal, dynamic, and driver’s-seat question. Of course we can reflect on it, both philosophically and in other ways (e.g. by engaging with poetry and drama). Such offline reflections, of which NE is itself one instance, are crucial to the formation of character. The difference with practical philosophy is that here the answer to the question how the nature interacts with its context is not given at leisure in quiet reflection, but in real time, in action. 15. Hence Aristotle’s focus on prohairesis: because prohairesis is the point at which practical philosophy actually becomes practical. It is the node of interaction between the cognitive and the conative (cp. Commitment 4); virtue in prohairesis is phronêsis, and phronêsis is both an intellectual virtue and the guarantor and completer of all the character virtues. 16. In Aristotle’s dynamic account of practical reason in action the vectors are [an agent, a situation, an account of eudaimonia/ eupraxia]. As with any other science, the first principle is given by the last of these, and it’s all about how that first principle cashes out in the situation. The difference is that the cashing out means the agent’s cashing it out by acting. In our terms one key thing about praxis is its indexicality, a feature closely linked to what I’m calling its dynamic nature: it’s not so much the desire(s) or the belief(s) as the fact that cashing-out choice is by me here now that motivates me; the cashing-out leads directly to an action. 17. So why does Aristotle speak of practical truth? Because there is a difference, in fact there are a number of differences, between getting it right and getting it wrong in cashing out eupraxia in some set of circumstances. (See again Passages 5, 6.) The reasoning from the account of eupraxia can be wrong; so can the account of eupraxia; so, thirdly, can the agent’s sense of his/ her own indexicality. Notice the indexicality of the examples in Passage 7. And cp. NE 3’s focus on ignorance as exculpating; ignorance for Aristotle is closely linked with what I’m calling indexicality. The most famous example in the Greek tradition of the kind of ignorance that interests Aristotle is Oedipus. Indexicality is precisely his problem. An agent’s action is a practical truth when it is right in all of these respects, which will also mean that the action is “a valid conclusion” of some sound practical syllogism: see Passages 5, 6, 7. 18. For an action to be a practical truth is for theoretical truth and “the real world” to mesh. Phronêsis is the cog, the gearing, that brings the two systems into contact. That’s why it can be seen under two aspects at once: as the most theoretical of the practical virtues, or as the most practical of the theoretical virtues. And this is what Aristotle means by dio ê orektikos nous hê proairesis ê orexis dianoêtikê at the end of Passage 5. 19. Practical knowledge is knowing what to do; practical truth is doing it. 20. Aristotle means it when he says that practical truth is a property of actions, not propositions. Practically true actions are the converse of performative utterances: performatives are speeches that do something, practically true actions are deeds that say something. (What they say is the conclusion of a practical syllogism: Passage 7.) 21. But what, going back to SS11-12, does this have to do with motivation? The answer is that we bring into everything we do our own conception of eudaimonia/ eupraxia, which is motivational by definition: a conception of eudaimonia just is, by definition, a conception of “what we really want in life”. See Passages 3, 4; cp. Commitment 6. 22. Not that eudaimonia is a simple thing, and there is always, as I say, a question about whether any particular is part of eudaimonia. But the basic idea is clear: eudaimonia is by definition about the kind of things we want, so of course we want the things that are its components, provided they really are its components. 23. Thinking about action as dynamic, as steering or aiming our way through the world in two of Aristotle’s favourite metaphors (Odyssey 12.219, Calypso’s steering advice, at NE 1109a32; the archer at 1138b22), brings this out: there are feelings you have when you steer or aim, and those feelings are feedback on what you’re doing and how it’s going. (Vertigo when climbing, the sense of rush on a big dipper or skis or a bicycle, etc.) Aristotle thinks emotions are like this—and that they, picking up the question left at S9, are the pathêmata that we can have in our “moral experience” (our term not Aristotle’s). Emotions inform us on our position, trajectory, etc. They can do so accurately or less so. They’re not the essence of what we’re doing; they’re not all there is to our guiding system (in fact they are, functionally, epiphenomenal; they’re not infallible; they’re not (pace both expressivists and moral-perception theorists; but cp. Brady, Emotional Insight) what evaluative belief is. But they are a useful source of information, and indeed of insight. The ten core commitments of contemporary expressivism (NB not “the necessary and sufficient conditions for expressivism”—I doubt there are any): At least fundamentally, and perhaps “all the way down”, moral utterance is conative and expressive of desire-like states, not cognitive or descriptive or expressive of belief-like states. At least fundamentally, and perhaps “all the way up”, scientific utterance is cognitive and descriptive and expressive of belief-like states, not conative or expressive or expressive of belief-like states. Desires are distinct from beliefs. The conative is distinct from the cognitive. The expressive is distinct from the descriptive. Paradigmatic beliefs are not internally motivating; moral beliefs, or “beliefs”, are internally motivating. Moral utterance has no distinctive class of entities to refer to: if it refers at all, what it refers to supervenes or otherwise depends on some other class of entities. The ontology of science is primary and fundamental, the ontology of ethics—if it has one—is secondary. Scientific truth is primary and fundamental, moral truth—if there is any—is secondary. Scientific knowledge is primary and fundamental, moral knowledge—if there is any—is secondary. Texts (All from Aristotle; all in my own translations) (Passage 1a) Thus it is clear that the most exact (akribestatê) of the knowledges would be wisdom (sophia). The wise man must not only know the consequences of his first principles, but also hit on the truth about those first principles themselves. And so wisdom would be insight (nous) plus science (epistêmê)—having as its chief part the knowledge of the things of highest value. For it would be absurd if someone should think the political [craft], or practical wisdom (tên politikên ê phronêsin), to be the most important [knowledge], when (ei) humanity is not the best thing in the cosmos. But the healthy and the good are different for humans and for fish (ichthusi—cp. Heracleitus DK 22 B61) whereas the white and the straight are always the same. So every [speaker] would always mean the same thing by “what is wise” (to sophon), but not by “what is practically wise” (phronimon). For what each calls “practically wise” is the one who looks well after their particular interests, and it is to him that they entrust themselves. (Indeed some of the animals are called “practically wise”, namely those that seem to have a capacity for anticipating the needs of their own lives.) But it is clear that wisdom and the political [craft] are not the same thing. For if they say that wisdom is the [craft] concerned with their own interests, then there will be many wisdoms! For there is no one [craft] about the good of every species of creature, no more than there is one sort of medicine for every species; there is a different [craft] for each species. And it makes no difference if humanity is the best of all the animals. For there are other beings far more divine by nature than humanity—most obviously, those from which the cosmos is composed. (NE 1141a16-b3) (Passage 1b) Scientific study (theôria) is the noblest activity, just as the understanding (nous) is the noblest thing in us, and the objects that nous is concerned with are the noblest objects of knowledge… (NE 1177a20-22) (Passage 1c) Since (ei) nous is divine relative to the human [mind], likewise the life of the nous is divine relative to human life. We do not have to take the advice of those who tell us to “think human thoughts since you are human” (? Epicharmus; cp. Rhetoric 1394b), or “mortal thoughts since you are mortal” (Pindar, Isthmians 4.16). Rather a person should go immortal, so far as is possible for him, and do everything he can to live in accordance with the noblest (kratiston) part of himself. For though nous is a small part of us in size, in its power and its worth it excels every other part by far. Indeed the nous might be thought to be the true self of each person, since (eiper) it is the ruling and the best part. So it would be absurd, if a person did not choose the life that was his, but someone else’s. (NE 1177b30-1178a4; cp. EE 1249b15-25) (Passage 2) Items in the spoken language are symbols (symbola) of experiences (pathêmata) in the soul, and items in the written language are symbols of items in the spoken language. Just as writing is not the same for all humans, so spoken language is not the same. However, what spoken and written language are signs (sêmeia) of in the first place—these experiences in the soul—they are the same for all humans, just as the things of which [the experiences] are likenesses (homoiômata) are the same—and these are, immediately, things (pragmata êdê tauta). But these issues have been discussed in the de Anima [see dA 3.3, on phantasia]; they are part of a different inquiry. (de Interpretatione 16a4-9) (Passage 3a) The good we are searching for… seems to be a different thing for different activities and skills. There is a different good for medicine and for generalship, and so on for the other cases. So what is the good of each? Isn’t it that for the sake of which everything else [in each case] is done? In medicine this is health; in generalship it is victory; in building it is a house—in each case something different… (NE 1097a15-21) (Passage 3b) …but in every activity and every choice, it is the end (to telos); for it is for the sake of this that they all do all the other things. So that if there is some one end of all the things we can do, this will be the practical good (to prakton agathon); or if there are various ends, they will be. (NE 1097a21-24) (Passage 3c) We say that the function (ergon) of an X and of a good X are the same: so with a harpist’s function and a good harpist’s function, and so in general in all cases—we just add his pre-eminent excellence to the function. A harpist’s function is to play the harp, and a good harpist’s function is to play it well… (NE 1098a8-13; cp. EE 1219a19) (Passage 3d) So if the human function is a life of some sort, and a life means a realisation of what is in you (psychês energeia) and actions according with your rationality (praxeis meta logou); and if a good person’s function is just the human function, performed well and beautifully (eu kai kalôs), where anything is performed well when it is brought to completion according to its own proper excellence; —on these conditions, the human good will come to be the realisation of what is in you in accordance with excellence—and if there are various kinds of excellence, in accordance with the best and the most complete. (NE 1098a13-18) (Passage 4) Good is said in as many ways as being. In the category of substance it is, for instance, God and Nous; in the category of quality, the excellences; in quantity, the moderate; in relation, the useful; in time, the timely; in place, one’s own natural habitat; and so on. So clearly good is not some common universal thing, and a one (koinon ti katholou kai hen). For if it was, it would not be said in all the categories, but in one alone. (NE 1096a24-28) (Passage 5) There are three things in the soul which are authoritative (kuria) over action and truth: perception, understanding, desire (aisthêsis nous orexis). Of these, perception is the first principle (archê) of no action at all; for clearly, wild animals have perception, but do not share in action (praxis) [because they just act on perception and desire without understanding]. But what affirmation and denial are in thought (dianoia), just that is what pursuit and avoidance are in desire. Now excellence of character (êthikê aretê) is a disposition of choice (hexis prohairetikê), and choice (prohairesis) is deliberating desire (orexis bouleutikê). So given these points, if the choice is to be worthy (spoudaia), it is necessary that the reason (logos) should be true and the desire correct, and that the reason on the one side should affirm, the desire on the other side pursue. Exactly this is practical thought (praktikê dianoia) and truth. For theoretical thought (theôrêtikê dianoia), which is not directed to action, and not directed to production (poiêsis) either, has true-and-false as its good-and-bad. Of course, true-and-false is the function (ergon) of every kind of thought; but for practical thought, the truth is what is disposed to agree (homologôs echousa) with correct desire. Now choice is the first principle of action; that is, it is the first principle whence comes the movement/ process [of action], though it is not what [action] is for the sake of. And the first principle of choice is desire and reasoning that is for the sake of something. Hence choice is not without understanding and thought, and not without excellence of character either; indeed, overall living well (eupraxia), and its opposite in action, do not happen without both thought and character. But thought itself (dianoia autê) moves nothing. Only thought that is for the sake of something and practical does that. Indeed, practical thought is the first principle of production as well. For everyone who produces something produces it for the sake of something. The producing is not an end in itself (telos haplôs); producing, rather, is the producing of something, relative to something else. Whereas the doing of an action [is an end in itself]; for overall living well is the end, and desire is of this. Hence choice is either understanding that desires, or desire that understands; and this is the kind of first principle that the human agent is. (dio ê orektikos nous hê proairesis ê orexis dianoêtikê, kai toiautê archê anthrôpos.) (NE 1139a18-1139b7) (Passage 6) All essences are by nature first principles of some sort; that is why each essence is able to produce many instances like to itself, as a human can reproduce humans, and animals animals, and plants plants. Besides that kind of production, a human is also, alone among animals, the first principle of some actions (praxeôn)—for we would not say that other animals act. [Cp. Passage 5.] Such first principles as those, which are first sources of processes, are most truly called first principles; and the name is justified above all when they are first principles that do not admit of coming to be otherwise—such, no doubt, as the motions of which God is first principle… But humanity is the first principle of a certain process; for action is a process. And just as in other cases, the first principle is the cause of the things that are or come to be because of it… [There are first principles whose results cannot come about otherwise than they do,] and first principles whose results can; many of the things that are up to humans are first principles of this latter sort, and so are humans themselves. So that in the case of the actions that the human is first principle of and authoritative over, it is clearly possible for them either to happen or not to happen, and bringing them about is up to him—at least when he is authoritative over them as to whether or not they happen. So when it is up to him to do them or not do them, he is himself responsible for these deeds; and conversely, what he is responsible for, is up to him. (EE 1222b16-23, 28-31, 1223a1-9) (Passage 7) [For] those who are thinking and making inferences about unmoving objects, the end is theoretical speculation (thêôrema). In their case, whenever someone thinks the two premisses, he thinks and posits the conclusion; and in this case, the conclusion that comes to be from the two premisses is the action (praxis). So for example when someone thinks that every man should walk, and he is a man, he immediately walks. And when someone thinks that no man should walk now, immediately he stays at rest. And he will do the resultant action, unless something hinders or constrains him. “I should make something good”; “a house is good”; immediately he makes a house. “I need a covering; a cloak is a covering; I need a cloak. What I need, I should make; I need a cloak; a cloak is to be made.” And the conclusion “A cloak is to be made” is an action. He acts from a first principle. “If there should be a cloak, necessarily there must this first, and if this, then this”–and this last he immediately does. Now that the conclusion is the action is clear. On the other hand the premisses of the making come to be of two kinds, because of the good and because of the possible. (dMA 701a8-25) (Passage 8) The object of thought (nous) and the object of desire (orexis) move without being moved. The primary instances of both are the same things. For the object of raw desire (to epithumêton) is the apparently excellent (to phainomenon kalon), and the first object of rational desire (to boulêton) is what really is excellent (to on kalon). But we desire because something seems good—it does not seem good because we desire; for the first principle is thinking (noêsis). (Mph 1072a28-36) [email protected]