This conference was originally scheduled for June 2020 but was postponed due to the COVID-19 pandemic. For 2021 this event will take place virtually through use of TEAMS live video technology. We hope to return to having a live in-person format (perhaps with a video option) in June 2022.
“Causes and Causation in Aristotle and the Aristotelian Tradition”
This Conference is intended to provide a formal occasion and central location for philosophers and scholars of the Midwest region (and elsewhere) to present and discuss their current work on Aristotle and his interpreters in ancient and medieval philosophy.
Registration: Contact Prof. Owen Goldin (Owen.Goldin@Marquette.edu) for the TEAMS link.
Presented by the Marquette Midwest Seminar in Ancient and Medieval Philosophy with the support of the Department of Philosophy at Marquette University
Fifteenth Annual Marquette Summer Seminar on
Aristotle and the Aristotelian Tradition
21-23 June 2021
MONDAY JUNE 21
9-10:15 am [1] Greg Sadler and Harald Kavli, Prohairesis as a Cause in Aristotelian and Stoic Traditions
10:20-11:35 am [2] Chuyu Tian, What Does the Prime Mover Think?
11:40 am-1:00 pm lunch break.
1:00-2:15 pm: [3] Gus Law, A search for what makes aitiai aitiai in Aristotle
2:20-3:35 pm [4] Ignacio de Ribera-Martin, The Effect of Perception in the Shaping of Moral Character in Aristotle
3:40-4:55 pm: [5] Tyler Huismann, A Causal Puzzle in Aristotle
TUESDAY JUNE 22
9-10:15 : [6] Robert Gallagher, Privation as Cause
10:20-11:35 [7] Christian Pfeiffer, The Causes of Being in Aristotle’s Metaphysics H.2
11:40 am-1:00 pm lunch break.
1:00-2:15 pm: [8] Simona Aimar, Powers as Sources of Change in Aristotle
2:20-3:35 pm [9] Lucas Angioni, Aristotle on Middle Terms (and, thereby, causes) ‘suggenes‘ with their Explananda
WEDNESDAY JUNE 23
9-10:15 : [10] Aparna Ravilochan, Animal Form as Necessary Actuality
10:20-11:35 [11] Erik Åkerlund, The End as Specifying in Francesco Silvestri
11:40 am-1:00 pm lunch break.
1:00-2:15 pm: [12] Daniel Ferguson, The Best is the End: An Argument in Eudemian Ethics I.8
2:20-3:35 pm [13] Catherine Peters, Aristotle and Avicenna on “Nature” as “Matter” and “Form”
ABSTRACTS
Simona Aimar, University College, London, “Powers as Sources of Change in Aristotle”
This paper looks at how Aristotle’s develops his theory of efficient causation by further developing ideas from his predecessors, and argues that in his Metaphysics Theta 1 he defines his primary notion of power (dunamis) as a source of change (1046a10-11). I argue that the expression ‘source of change’ refers to the notion of an efficient cause (cf. PhysicsII.3, 194b29-30, among other places). On this picture, Aristotle’s powers are not primitive or undefined properties, but properties that are fully characterised in causal terms. I conclude by showing how, on this account, Aristotle has answers to give to many of the objections that have been raised about the notion of power throughout the centuries.
Erik Åkerlund, Newman Institute, Sweden, “The End as Specifying in Francesco Silvestri”
The rejection of final causes and final causation is seen as one of the distinguishing features of some schools of thought within so called Early Modern philosophy, in relation to an older, Scholastic and Aristotelian philosophical tradition. However, the place of final causes and final causation was problematized already within the Aristotelian tradition, and in Francisco Suárez’ (1548–1617) encyclopedic Disputationes metaphysicae (1597) we already find many – if not all – of the objections as to their existence, effectiveness, reality, etc. that we later encounter in the works of the Early Moderns. But Suárez himself refers back to a continuous tradition of problematizing final causes reaching up to his own time, a tradition that is totally uncharted from Jean Buridan (ca. 1300–ca. 1360) and his times in modern history of philosophy. In this talk, the treatment of final causes in the thinking of the North Italian Dominican Francesco Silvestri of Ferrara (1474–1528) will be presented, as an example of an as of yet “uncharted” philosopher on this question. In his commentary on Thomas Aquinas’ Summa contra gentiles (1517), referred to by Suárez and printed together with Thomas’ text in the Leonine edition, Silvestri makes an interesting distinction when treating final causes between the end as moving formally or as specifying, on the one hand, and as moving effectively or eliciting an action, on the other. He concludes that the end only “moves” (the word “move” here taken metaphorically, according to Silvestri, following a tradition going back to Aristotle himself) as specifying when it is itself chosen, whereas the end moves effectively only once it has been chosen (in and through the means to that end, as elected by the will). The end does not in any way elicit the volition directed at itself, but it is rather the will that has the sole active part to play in this election. In the talk, certain presupposition regarding final causation in Silvetri will be spelled out, particularly as it relates to the question of what he understands causation to be in general
Lucas Angioni, University of Campinas, “Aristotle on Middle Terms (and, thereby, causes) ‘suggenes’ with their Explananda”
In Posterior Analytics I.9,Aristotle says that middle terms should be in the same suggeneia with the other terms in a scientific demonstration. The context in which this remark appears is the discussion of attempted demonstrations which seem to have been successful (because they start from premisses that are true, immediate, indemonstrable and primitive, 75b39-40, 76a28-29) but miss the most important point (namely, to grasp the principles of the thing to be explained as exactly that thing). Bryson’s attempt to square the circle is just one example of this kind of unsuccessful demonstration (Aristotle’s is more generally concerned with every argument of that kind).
Aristotle’s description of the failure relies on the following features: these attempted demonstrations
(i) miss the appropriate principles of the thing to be explained; (ii) attempt to explain it kata koinon; (iii) attempt to explain it kata sumbebekos; (iv) fail at presenting a middle term suggenes with the explanandum. I do believe that these four descriptions of the failure are all on a par in pointing to the same basic point, which is this: the attempted demonstrations do not fit the thing to be explained qua it is exactly the thing which was selected as explanandum; instead, they stick to explanatory factors that account for some features of the thing to be explained, but fails at accounting for exactly the most important feature to be explained. The unsuccessful explanatory factor is what is picked up with the expressions “sumbebekos” (76a2, 4), “koinon” (75b41). However, since arguing for all these points would take me too long, I propose in this talk to concentrate on the notion of suggeneia (as presented in 76a9). Now, there are two basic issues about this notion as presented in Posterior Analytics I.9: first, the nature of the notion itself (what it is to be suggenes with something); second, the relata to which the notion is applied in this context. In this talk, I will deal with both issues. I will argue that (a) the relata of the notion of suggeneia are the three terms of a syllogistic demonstration, and that (b) Aristotle’s main concern is that the middle term must be suggenes with the attribute to be explained, which is the major term in a syllogistic demonstration. Thus, Aristotle’s concern is that middle terms (in scientific demonstrations) should match exactly the attribute they are meant to explain, to the point that this requirement is congenious with what is found in Posterior Analytics I.13 (78b13-28-32), namely, that causes (middle terms) in scientific demonstrations must be (besides other things) coextensive with their effects (major terms). Thus, suggeneia (in this context) entails and involves coextensiveness (with collapsing into it). This is a much stronger notion than some options found in the literature (such as “being of the same family”, “belonging to the same subject-matter” etc.).
Daniel Ferguson, Yale University, “The Best is the End: An Argument in Eudemian Ethics I.8”
In Eudemian Ethics I.8, Aristotle argues that eudaimonia, the best practicable good, is the end (telos) of the practicable goods. Eudaimonia is that at which all of the other practicable goods ultimately aim. The purpose of my paper is to figure out why Aristotle thinks this.
I first argue that Aristotle’s argument for this thesis consists of two premises:
[Best is First and Cause] The best practicable good is the first (i.e. most prior) practicable good and the cause of the other practicable goods being good.
[End is First and Cause] The end of the practicable goods is the first practicable good and the cause of the other practicable goods being good.
Together, these claims imply that the best practicable good, eudaimonia, is the end of the practicable goods.
For the remainder of my paper, I try to uncover Aristotle’s reasons for each of the two premises. In EE I.8, [Best is First and Cause] is justified by an appeal to authority: [Best is First and Cause] seems to be true, says Aristotle, because the Platonists say so (1217b2-8). But the basis for a more satisfying, Aristotelian justification for [Best is First and Cause] can be found in a text in the Protrepticus (Düring B82-3). In this passage, Aristotle distinguishes two uses of ‘more’ (mallon). X is more1 F than Y iff X and Y are univocally F and X exhibits F to a greater degree than does Y. Alternatively, X is more2 F than Y iff X and Y are homonymously F, X is the cause of Y being F, and X being F is prior to Y being F. I argue that the best practicable good is best in virtue of being more2 good than all the other practicable goods. Because of this, this best good is the cause of all the other practicable goods being good and is prior to the other practicable goods. This is precisely what [Best is First and Cause] claims.
Aristotle briefly argues for [End is First and Cause] at EE I.8, 1218b16-20. On my reading, Aristotle’s argument for this claim is that the goodness of all the other practicable goods is explained by explanations of the following form:
(1) The end of the practicable goods isdef such-and-such (e.g. theoretical contemplation, virtuous activity generally).
(2) This practicable good is for the sake of such-and-such.
(C) This practicable good is for the sake of the end of the practicable goods.
(1)-(C) really is an explanation for this practicable good being good. On Aristotle’s view, it clear from (C) that this practicable good is good: the end of the practicable goods is clearly something good, and things that are for the sake of good things are good. What really needs explaining is why (C) is true. Why, e.g., is this particular good honor for the sake of the end of the practicable goods, a good thing, rather than for the sake of something else? The explanation for (C) is given by (1) and (2), in which such-and-such—the definiens of the end of the practicable good—is invoked as a final cause. It is because this particular good honor is for the sake of (say) virtuous activity generally, and because 2 virtuous activity generally proves to be the end of the practicable goods, that this particular good honor is the for the sake of the end of the practicable goods. Since an explanation of this form explains the goodness of every other practicable good besides their end, this end (whatever it proves to be) is the cause of all the other practicable goods being good. And because the goodness of the other practicable goods depends on the goodness of this end, but not vice-versa, this end is prior to the other practicable goods.
Robert Gallagher, Eudemian Consulting, “Privation as Cause”
Privation as cause Aristotle’s argument that privation is a causal principle does not sit well with some of our contemporaries. Kelsey argues that privation “is no principle at all.” Castelli in her recent Oxford volume on Met. Iota, rejects Aristotle’s view that privation is a cause in the composition of members of a genos. In contrast, Bogen supports Aristotle’s view that privation is a principle and anchors it in Aristotle’s argument that contraries, such as possession and privation, possess contrary capacities. Finally, Martin argues that Aristotle’s treatment of privative negation shows that privation is causal. So, we have disagreement on the nature of privation. Here I defend Aristotle’s view that privation is a causal principle that defines beings in their generation.
Kelsey claims that “although Aristotle does not say as much explicitly…his considered view is that privation is a principle only ‘incidentally’ (kata sumbebēkos), which is just to say that, speaking ‘unqualifiedly’ (haplōs), it is no principle at all.” Kelsey is right to say that privation is a principle only kata sumbebēkos, but wrong to say that therefore “it is no principle at all.” For Aristotle says that there is coming to be out of what is not (privation) and out of what is, but only kata sumbebēkos, which is properly translated “in relation to an attribute” (191b13-16, 17-18). As Charlton comments, “Things come to be, says Aristotle, neither out of what is not nor out of what is, except ‘kata sumbebēkos.’” This was Aristotle’s solution to the aporia of the physicists (191a27-31). Kelsey’s further view that “Privation is not a principle because, unlike the subject and the form, there is no mention of it in the analysis of any generated substance,” is refuted by reference to Met. Iota which argues that the logoi of the contraries do “enter into the logoi of things” (cf. 1055b11-15). For Aristotle says that all things are composed from the extremes or contraries of the genos of which they are members (cf. Iota.7, 4.1055a8-9, also Γ.2.1005a3-4). He calls one extreme the “one” and calls its contrary, “privation” (cf. 1052b14-19).
Castelli believes that privation is only “the absence of a certain property.” She asks “How can the absence of a feature in a subject contribute to a composition?” This is not Aristotle’s view (cf. Met. Δ.22 where absence of sight contributes to the composition of the mole). First of all, Aristotle denies that privation and possession are relatives (Cat. 12b16). Second, the privation possesses its own capacities or abilities (dunameis) that its contrary lacks (cf. Iota.2.1054a10, 1057b22, Phys.B.193b19, GA743a36-b1, Met. Δ.12.1019b6f). So, privation is not only “the absence of a certain property” or capacity, but is also possession of another. Third, in Iota the combining of properties of “the one” with properties of the privation determines the formal cause of the various members of a genos (cf. I.7; Halper, “Metaphysics I,” 79). As Castelli herself writes, intermediates of a genos are the “joint privation of the corresponding contraries” (xxxvi), that is, an intermediate possesses some of the properties of the one and some of the privation, but also lacks properties of each, so it is the “joint privation” of both. In Aristotle’s philosophy of nature, privation is a matter of degree, and is not a matter of absolute “presence or absence” (contra Castelli, 84, and Code, “Metaphysics Λ 5,” 166).
Bogen explains, “the possession of either member of a pair of contraries enables its possessor to do things and have things done to it.” The changes and motions that contraries can bring about depend on what capacities belong to and can be exercised by those contraries. So, the idea that appears often in Aristotle’s works that all things are composed from the extremes or contraries of the genos of which they are members (cf. Met. I.7, 4.1055a8-9, 55b16-17, Γ.2.1005a3-4, Phys. I.5.188b21-26, Caelo I.3.270a14ff, GC I.7.323b28-324a9), therefore means more precisely that all things are produced through the capacities of those contraries. Since one of those contraries is a privation, that privation possesses a capacity.
For Aristotle, both contraries can exhibit the capacity of an agent, for “whatever are spoken of with respect to being capable, the contraries are the same capacity” (1051a5-6, cf. 10-11, 16- 17). That said to be able to be well is the same as that which is able to be ill and at the same time (a6-8), yet those are contraries. So, the capable thing exhibits contrary states. For the same capacity is a capacity to be well and to be sick (a8). For the state of being capable exists as contraries at the same time (a10-11). The capacity is either both contraries or neither (a14).
What is the “whatever” that “are spoken of with respect to being capable” in contrary ways (cf. 1051a5-6)? Aristotle explains that capacities that govern contraries are those of souls (Θ.2). All the rational capacities, those with logoi, encompass those of the relevant contraries, but the irrational capacities are only of one contrary (b4-6). So, the capacity of the doctor can be used to produce either health or illness, but the capacity of heat can only warm a subject (b6-7). The reason for this is that a science is a logos, and the same logos exhibits itself in the act (pragma), of healing, and its privation, the infliction of harm (b7-9). the one who knows (epistēmōn) can produce both contrary effects by means of the logos (b17-20). So, his soul moves both contraries by joining them together from the same principle towards the same end (21-22).
Finally, privation is a form of negation (“privative negation”). “In set-theoretic terms,” says Smith, a privative statement and its denial “partition the universe.” That fact drives a stake through the claim that privation is not a principle. Aristotle makes use of that property of privative negation in his theory of differentiation of genē into eidē, which again shows that privation is a principle.
Aristotle’s algebraic treatment of the relation between the one and the privation in Iota will be explained.
Tyler Huismann, University of Oklahoma, “A Causal Puzzle in Aristotle”
When Aristotle explains efficient causation, he frequently does so using examples having to do with the activity of experts. Time after time, he speaks of builders building, doctors healing, and sculptors sculpting. They are central examples of efficient causes and casesthat can be relied on when considering more intricate causal questions. So if we are to understand efficient causation within Aristotle’s natural philosophy, we ought to have a good grasp of these examples. And it might appear that we do have such a grasp because of the widespread agreement regarding the mechanics of these cases: the art or skill characteristic of experts is what initiates a change that results in the product associated with experts; or simply, the arts these experts possess make expert products. The art therefore efficiently causes such products. There are precisifications, of course. Some say that the art is the first in a chain of efficient causes, or that it is one of multiple efficient causes of expert products, or that it is the “true” or “fundamental” efficient cause of such products. But the general point remains. The arts that experts possess are, by and large, taken to beefficient causes. The aim of this paper is to reorient our understanding of these examples. I will argue that, despite the consensus, there is a puzzle in Aristotle’s texts as to what efficiently causes expert products (§§1-2). The best way to make sense of Aristotle’s notion of efficient causation is to take arts as unable to cause efficiently (§§3-4). My argument is primarily based on a passage from De generatione et corruptione (GC) II.9. The text is well-trodden, but there is a subtlety to the form of the argument therein that has not yet been identified. I will show that this aspect of the argument is crucial, for the argument’s form yields a pivotal insight into efficient causes: for Aristotle, efficient causes are temporally contrastive, in a sense to be defined below. I then explain a tendency that Aristotle has for characterizing arts in such a way as to suggest that they are efficient causes (§5). He often claims that arts are makers, and it is for this reason that arts are presumed to be efficiently causal. But as he himself notes, there is an ambiguity in ‘maker.’ I rely on this ambiguity in arguing that one sense of this expression captures the relation of efficient causality, another captures the relation of formal causality. And so, when Aristotle maintains that the art of house-building made the house, this is true without the art of housebuilding being an efficient cause of the house, for the art of house-building is a formal cause of the house. The result is a coherent framework that takes seriously the logical structure of Aristotle’s criticisms in GC.
Gus Law, Vassar College, “A search for what makes aitiai aitiai in Aristotle”
Long before the covering law model of scientific explanation surfaced in the 20th century, Aristotle had worried that a phenomenon’s deductive derivability from observations and laws is not enough: Suppose we are right to conclude, from the observation that the Planets do not twinkle plus the “law” that things that do not twinkle are near, that the Planets are near – we do not thereby have an explanation of why they are near (Posterior Analytics 1.13 78a22-b4). But what does Aristotle think is missing? In his extant works, he does not say what makes causes (aitiai) causes in general. He famously maintains that causes are four, but the items he lists and his examples for them are so different that it is not obvious what justifies calling them by the same name. A tempting idea has recently been defended (Nathaneal Stein 2011): Aristotle calls the four kinds ”aitiai” in virtue of different definitions, and the formal cause is the focal case by reference to which the other kinds are so called. But if Aristotle should think that the kinds he distinguishes do not deserve one name in virtue of the same logos, there would be a puzzle that seems unsolvable, namely, What makes a form (eidos) also a formal cause? For presumably “aitia” and “eidos” are never synonyms in Aristotle – not even in the case of something being an aitia qua eidos. If there is a logos that explains what makes an eidos an aitia qua eidos, I contend, the same logos would explain what makes the other kinds aitiai, too, in abstraction from the differences among the several kinds. Drawing on hitherto overlooked resources, especially passages in the Posterior Analytics, as well as my previous research on its syllogistics, I will make a tentative suggestion on what that logos might be.
Catherine Peters, Loyola Marymount University, “Aristotle and Avicenna on ‘Nature’ as ‘Matter’ and ‘Form’
In this study, I question the dominant interpretation of “nature” as a cause in Avicenna’s Physics of the Healing. Though some have taken his definition of nature as a kind of efficient cause (that is, a power) to be a mistaken and radical departure from Aristotle, it is my contention that investigating the Physics of the Healing shows it to be a development, not a repudiation, of the account of nature in Aristotle’s Physics.
While Avicenna defines “nature” as a power, he does so only after establishing that matter and form are the two per se principles of nature. He then explains how “nature” is said of both matter and form, but primarily form. The definition of nature as a “power” must therefore, I argue, be taken within this hylomorphic context. Read this way, the causality of nature in the Physics of the Healing is not exclusively efficient, but formal and material as well.
Avicenna was clear that he viewed his definition of “nature” as fully in accord with that of Aristotle, but he was also clear that the Physics of the Healing was an account of nature intended to improve upon the Physics of Aristotle both stylistically and substantively. Nonetheless, some claim that Avicenna’s view of nature is thoroughly active and lacking passivity, which seems to be at odds with Aristotle’s conception of nature as a passive source for motion.
My exposition of their respective definitions will, first, show that Aristotle’s view of nature is not exclusively or even primarily passive insofar as he identifies nature with formal causality, the principle of actuality within the natural thing. Second, it will reveal how Avicenna’s definition of nature should not be taken as exclusively active (both because matter is an essential principle of natural beings and also because form entails passivity inasmuch as form itself is in potency to existence).
In sum, I maintain that divorcing “nature” defined as a power from Avicenna’s treatments of matter and form is mistaking. While some criticize his definition of nature as a distortion of Aristotle, it is my contention that investigating the Physics of the Healing shows it to be a development, not a repudiation, of the account of nature in Aristotle’s Physics. In the present study, then, I will show how Avicenna’s definition of nature as a power—regarded as daring by some—allowed him to formulate a systematic and cohesive account of “nature” that was innovative while remaining authentically Aristotelian.
Christian Pfeiffer, University of Toronto, “H.2 and the many senses of being”
According to Aristotle, being is said in many ways. In my paper, I will look at this claim in the context of H.2, where Aristotle states that being is said in as many ways as the differentiae. I will argue that this does not entail, as Owen thought, that there is a different sense of ‘is’ for each thing that is. Instead, I will argue, following Matthews, that Aristotle thinks that there is a single sense of 1-place being, i.e., existence, but that the explanation of why something exists requires analyzing 1-place being as 2-place being. The differentiae in H.2 figure in the explanation of 2-place being, and since theyare grouped in different genera, H.2 establishes, in this way, a theory of the categories. According to this theory, the items in the different categories are composites of a subject and a differentia. I will also draw some more general conclusion about what the upshot of this for Aristotle’s analysis of perceptible substances, his theory of definition, and his criticism of Platonists.
Aparna Ravilochan, University of Chicago, “Animal Form as Necessary Actuality”
Traditional readings of Generation of Animals take the form of an animal offspring to be delivered to menstrual matter by the male parent. In this essay, I argue that there is a crucial reason why animal form cannot be understood as being 1) delivered from an external source and 2)existing separately from animal matter until the two are brought together by reproduction. The reason is that animal form, unlike artifactual form or the forms of inanimate natural objects, is not contingent—that is, it is not related to its matter only incidentally, for a limited time, and with reference to a certain agent that brings them together—but is instead necessary. The relationship between animal matter and animal form is immediate, temporally coextensive, and characterized by a singular one-to-one correlation: while material like wood or stone can take on many forms, animal matter is the potentiality for only a single corresponding animal form. Animal form is native to a particular animal; it originates with the embryo and remains properly unified with animal material throughout that animal’s life.
In order to address these concerns, I propose a reconsideration of animal hylomorphism. I argue that the traditional view misunderstands hylomorphism as a mereological metaphysical condition, when in reality hylomorphism, for Aristotle, should be characterized by the understanding that “matter and form are related as potentiality to actuality.” Here I rely on Aristotle’s argument in De Anima that soul, or animal form, is the first actuality of the body. On such a reading, form is not a component that one parent “adds” to the material provided by the other. Instead, it is the active possession of capacities, like nutrition, growth, and perception, and all exist potentially in the material body. The animal body represents a capacity for the capacity for life, while the living animal, in its form, is characterized by the activity of possessing life capacities. The advantage of this formulation is that no external formal cause need be posited in animal reproduction: a nascent animal can be understood as possessing its own formal cause by virtue of its particular material potentiality
Ignacio de Ribera-Martin, Catholic University of America, “The Effect of Perception in the Shaping of Moral Character in Aristotle”
In the Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle explains how our repeated actions generate moral habits in the soul, good ones (virtues) or bad ones (vices). These habits make up our moral character, which in turn affects the way we act. Since in order to be happy we need to act well, and good actions depend on having good habits, education aims primarily at the generation of a good moral character. By moral action Aristotle understands an action (praxis) in the sphere of choice, in contrast to other activities such as contemplation (theoria) or production (poiêsis). We do not become good by making things or simply by attending lectures. We need to choose good actions, i.e. to actually do them.
In this paper I explore the role played by the senses in the configuration of our moral character. Prima facie, it seems that what we see, hear, touch, etc. has no moral effect on us and it is not relevant for our moral character because to perceive is a passive activity in which we undergo a change rather than actively do something. Several passages in Aristotle point in this direction. For example, when Aristotle considers the different kinds of virtue in relation to different parts of the soul, he does not consider any “sensitive” part at all that could be perfected by a corresponding virtue. And he explicitly contrasts the acquisition of habits to the power of the senses: in the case of actions, we first act and then we acquire the power, while the reverse is true of the senses. It seems then that the senses play no role in the acquisition of habits: they are simply “on” or “off,” asleep or awake, depending on whether they are currently stimulated by their objects. As a result, they do not appear to be relevant for education because they have no moral effect.
However, also in Aristotle, there are passages suggesting that it is an essential part of education to care about what we perceive. For example, the significant role played by the passions of fear and pity in tragedies in purifying the soul (katharsis) and stirring noble actions, on the one hand, and the moral effect of music on the soul, which is the basis of the legislator’s concern for which kind of music should be—and which kind should not be— listened by the youth. All this suggests that what we passively experience through the senses, and not just what we actively do when we act, has an impact on our moral character. In this paper I explore how the soul is affected by the activity of the senses. I focus on the “conformative” effect of the passions, on the unity of the external senses and the internal sense with its functions (memory and imagination), and on the role of imitation in acting and learning. While the scope of this topic is vast, and I can only offer an initial sketch of explanation, I hope to show that the senses too play a key role in the shaping of one’s moral character and hence we must take their education seriously.
Greg Sadler, Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design, and Harald Kavli, University of Oslo, “Prohairesis as a Cause in Aristotelian and Stoic Traditions”
One key contribution Aristotle makes in moral psychology and ethics developing the notion of prohairesis. Prohairesis is one of the causes of human actions, and it also interacts with other causes. Interpretatively reconstructing Aristotle’s conception of prohairesis, as we do in this paper, it is clearly a complex matter, covering some of the ground of what is later identified as the faculty of will. Prohairesis plays a central role in the development of virtues and vices, in akrasia and enkratia, and in the interconnection between the rational and irrational parts of a person’s soul.
Prohairesis does play an important role in Stoic moral psychology and ethics until Epictetus makes prohairesis absolutely central to his own thought, giving it a significantly broader range and significance than Aristotle does. It becomes the very locus of human action and moral choice. Another important feature of Epictetus’ thought connected with prohairesis, is the distinction between what is up to us or in our power (ep’hemin) and what is not (ouk ep’hemin), a distinction also made but not elaborated in Aristotle’s works. The notion of prohairesis and the ep’hemin/ouk distinction also play important roles in Alexander of Aphrodisias’ On Fate, as well as several of his other works, in which he reinterprets Aristotle’s position in a context informed by Stoic and Epicurean rivals. Both of these concepts also unsurprisingly come in for discussion much later by the neo-Platonic author Simplicius as well, particularly in his commentary on Epictetus’ Enchiridion.
Our paper reconstructs, examines, compares and contrasts conceptions of prohairesis and the connected ep’hemin/ouk distinction in the Aristotelian and Stoic traditions by focusing on these four authors, Aristotle, Epictetus, Alexander, and Simplicius, focusing on the importance for human freedom, action, rationality, and moral development.
Chuyu Tian, Columbia University, “What Does the Prime Mover Think?”
In my paper, I will argue the sole contents of Prime Mover (PM)’s thinking is itself.
I shall first interpret PM’s status qua unmoved mover as logically dependent on PM qua thinking on thinking: since the status of being the primary object of desire is secured by its engaging in the first, primary, best activity, which is thinking, the PM’s being the unmoved mover relies upon its thinking activity.
According to this interpretation, PM functions as a final cause, a goal which all things aim. However, some commentators, most notably Sarah Broadie, criticize this reading for making PM too impotent to do any real work. More entities also need to be supplemented to make the cosmos move.
I will try to meet Broadie’s criticism by examining the contents of PM’s thinking. At first glance, it might seem that interpreting PM’s thinking as thinking on itself would cause several problems. First and most obviously, such a divine being seems solipsistic. Second, thinking qua thinking on thinking might lead to an infinite regress. Third, complete activity as an exemplary cause does not give rise to motion. But I shall argue that none of them actually stand scrutiny. First, the good of PM should not depend on the good of anything inferior to PM, justifying its solipsism. Second, the nature of theoretical science is such that “the formula or the act of thinking, is the object” (1075a3), making infinite regress an unreal worry. Third, through a careful analysis of 1072b9-13, I will show that circular motion, being closest to the divine activity, is necessarily what the spheres engage in, hence an imitation of the complete activity do cause motion.
Alternatively, if PM does include other things in its thoughts, there might be more dangers. If the goal of PM is the cosmos, and the goal of cosmos is PM, then there is a circularity. Less strongly, PM might will the cosmos to move as a foreseen consequence of its own intellectual activity. Given the a-temporality of PM, this proposal should be rephrased as “Does PM see the movement of the cosmos as something that follows from its thinking?” Textual evidence speaks against a more explicit answer in the affirmative, but leaves out the possibility that PM thinks of itself qua the orderer of the cosmos. I will show that this latter option is a real possibility, because PM does not need to think about the specific things (“concrete substances”) being ordered, but only about the forms in the ordering. This is possible because conceptually, the form can be severed from the matter, not just in artifacts, but also in biological organisms and spheres.
To summarize, PM either thinks only about itself or thinks about itself qua the orderer of the cosmos. Yet, if the latter is the case, PM can do so only without looking into the matter in concrete substances and remain purely theoretical, which in the end is the same as thinking of itself.