Aristotle

Aristotle’s dialogue Protrepticus is not only his earliest work of ethics but also the root of all his subsequent investigations into ethics. Here we explore the various ways Aristotle retained in memory the contents of the Protrepticus and redeployed them in the Eudemian Ethics, including the common books. Since Aristotle himself does not explicitly acknowledge the foundational significance of the Protrepticus to his later works, our exploration must proceed on the basis of our knowledge of the earlier work, which can (...) then related to comparable passages in the treatises. But the Protrepticus is a lost work, unlike the EE and the EN, in the sense that no medieval manuscripts of it have survived. And so it first needs to be reconstructed on the basis of the streams of reception that deposited information in surviving works by later ancient authors. We begin in part 1 by reviewing the surviving evidence of the Protrepticus before presenting our wider reconstruction and conception of the work as a dialogue in part 2. In part 3, we discuss ideas and arguments in the reconstructed dialogue that are retained and redeployed in the Eudemian Ethics, focussing on the account of intellectual virtues in EE v and the introduction and methodological framework in EE i-ii.1. (shrink)

In the Symposium, Plato has Socrates claim that the priestess Diotima once claimed that Eros is a lover of wisdom or someone who is “in between wisdom and ignorance. In fact, you see, none of the gods loves wisdom or wants to become wise—for they are wise—and no one else who is wise loves wisdom.” Perhaps the best starting point for understanding the philosophy of Aristotle is that in principle, he rejects Diotima’s etymological wordplay that claims that philosophy implies an (...) absence of wisdom. At the heart of Aristotle’s philosophy is the claim not only that all humans desire to know, but also that human animals (and indeed some non-human animals) are capable of understanding the world and its contents in a broad array of epistemic capacities, including veridical perception, artisanal expertise, theoretical science, practical wisdom, and, indeed, even σοφία itself of the highest objects of cognition, namely the nature of the gods (Metaph. 1.1.980a22–981b7). My chapter explores the philosophy of Aristotle in five different parts. Part I examines the “organon” or linguistic and logical tool-kit that analyzes human reasoning from the most basic components of a proposition up through syllogistic presentation of the causes that explain what research has uncovered. Parts II and III of the chapter explore the main contours of Aristotle’s “theoretical sciences”—what today we call natural science, metaphysics, and theology. Part IV of the chapter examines what the Nicomachean Ethics calls “the philosophy of human things,” namely the study of ethics and politics. Finally, Part V looks at how Aristotle and his school systemized two different fields of human study, namely that of artistic mimesis or the art of poetry, and deliberative, judicial, and epidictic oratory or the art of rhetoric. (shrink)

The present paper has two objectives. First, it explicates the story, initially portrayed by Eckart Förster (2012), that allegedly philosophy started with publishing of Kant’s CPR and ended a quarter century later when Hegel’s Phenomenology of Mind appeared. We address the questions in what sense this happened and how is this development to be interpreted? Secondly, we demonstrate that similar radical transition from new, “true” beginning of philosophy to its apparent finishing took place in two other, high profile occasions in (...) the history of Western philosophy, in two key points of its development: in the years 390–365 BC, between the early and the late Plato, and between 1898 and 1922, between Russell and Wittgenstein’s Tractatus. These three short-lived, spectacular transitions from philosophy’s alleged start to its alleged ultimate accomplishment give us good reason to speak about a specific 25-years principle in philosophy. In a peculiar way, this principle reveals philosophy’s true nature. (shrink)

This article proposes a metaethical route from neo-Aristotelian naturalism, as developed in particular by Philippa Foot, to virtue-ethical longtermism. It argues that the metaethical assumptions of neo-Aristotelian naturalism inherently imply that a valid description of the life-form of a species must satisfy a formal requirement of internal sustainability. The elements of a valid life-form description then serve as a normative standard. Given that humans have the ability to influence the fate of future generations and know about their influence, this article (...) posits that our future as a species becomes a part of the description of the human life-form. Consequently, in our case, the sustainability requirement is extended into the future, leading to a minimal and humanist version of longtermism. As in Rosalind Hursthouse’s naturalistic virtue ethics, the focus of the proposed virtue-ethical longtermism remains on developing virtues as the only reliable way for the agent to achieve the good life. However, since what can count as virtue must be compatible with a life-form description that, taken as a whole, facilitates the long-term survival of our species, this position still implies a genuine longtermism, although it contrasts with the quantifying and maximizing logic of consequentialism. (shrink)

Biology, or life science, has particularly marked the twentieth and twenty-first centuries as a discipline. Due to its focus on the study of living entities, it distinguishes itself from other natural sciences in terms of subject matter, methods, and scope. The importance of biology is likely to continue growing in the coming years and centuries, leading to an increased interest in the history and philosophy of biology. Consequently, there is a need to illuminate methods that shed light on the history (...) and philosophy of biology. Drawing inspiration from Aristotle’s perspective on knowledge, this study proposes three distinct viewpoints in the history of biology. These perspectives are named the Nonteleological- Contingent View, Nominalistic-Terminologistic View, and Contentual-Contextual View. Accordingly, the roots of biology can be traced back to Aristotle. It is argued that biology can be considered a science initiated by Aristotle, and the extent of Aristotle’s contributions to the field of biology is indicated with references to the page count of his works in this domain. Furthermore, attention is drawn to the intellectual continuity between Aristotle and Ibn Sina (Avicenna), emphasizing Ibn Sina’s role as a scholar who produced original works through updates and syntheses. (shrink)

In this book, Julie K. Ward examines the concept of theoria within both philosophical and what she terms ‘traditional’ frameworks. Her primary objective is to enhance the ongoing philosophical discussion surrounding Plato and Aristotle’s accounts of theoria by situating them within the context of the earlier practice of traditional theoria. By understanding the cultural ground from which these philosophical accounts spring, Ward rightly asserts that her work enables a deeper and more sustained critical analysis of both philosophers’ theories than what (...) is found in current scholarship. (shrink)

Reflections and projections upon the history of ontology and its meaning for the future of philosophy.

We develop some of Williamson’s ideas regarding how propositional calculus aids in comprehending Aristotelian logic. Specifically, we enhance the utilisation of truth tables to examine the structure of opposition diagrams. Using ‘conditioned truth tables’, we establish logical dependency relationships between the truth values of different propositions. This approach proves effective in interpreting various texts of the Organon concerning the doctrine of opposition.

Nicomachean Ethics/NE, Book III, Chapters 1-5, provides Aristotle’s account of “Voluntary Movement.” It, thus, draws the Passion-Action distinction, only posited earlier in Categories, while also serving as the linchpin of NE’s discussion of Virtue, in explicitly connecting it to Right Reason. My explication of this text renders its terminology consistent with the Law of Excluded Middle and rebuts two criticisms of the Eudaimonistic Axiology on which it is based. These results are shown to be entailments of Aristotle’s doctrine that Voluntary (...) is (a) Relative. That categorization is then used to help treat a problematic case of Deliberation beyond his purview. (shrink)

Drawing on Anscombe, in this essay I argue that we should not take Aristotle to be a moral philosopher, nor a virtue ethicist. This is because contemporary virtue ethics has little to do with Aristotelian ethics. While contemporary virtue ethics (or aretaic moral theory, as one may call it) operates on the level of moral and thus categorical norms, Aristotelian ethics—an aretaic life ethics—is primarily concerned with pragmatic norms. The main question for Aristotle is what a good general conduct of (...) life is. The major concern of aretaic moral theory, on the other hand, is to provide a criterion of morally right action and hence to define the concepts of the morally right, the impermissible and moral duty in aretaic terms. This shows that contemporary authors assume a primacy of virtue, while Aristotle assumes a primacy of eudaimonia. I illustrate this distinction by addressing the question of how the virtues benefit their possessor. (shrink)

In this chapter I argue that writers on metaphor have misunderstood Aristotle on metaphor. Aristotle is not an elitist about metaphor and does not consider metaphors to be merely ornamental. Rather, Aristotle believes that metaphors are ubiquitous and believes that people can express themselves in a clearer and more attractive way through the use of metaphors and that people learn and understand things better through metaphor. He also distinguishes between the use of metaphor and the coinage of metaphor, and believes (...) that the ability to coin marvelous new metaphors is a form of literary genius, and he provided an entirely natural origin of metaphor coinage. (shrink)

The author Jacob Roman (Parr) provides commentary and line by line analysis of 218b10 through 223a23 , which is of Aristotle's Physica . -/- written in 2023 .

There is a debate about whether particular properties are for Aristotle non-recurrent and trope-like individuals or recurrent universals. I argue that Physics I.7 provides evidence that he took non-substantial particulars to be neither; they are instead non-recurrent modes. Physics I.7 also helps show why this matters. Particular properties must be individual modes in order for Aristotle to preserve three key philosophical commitments: that objects of ordinary experience are primary substances, that primary substances undergo genuine change, and that primary substances are (...) ontologically fundamental. (shrink)

I argue that central to Aristotle’s account of vice is a distinction between two varieties of vicious person: those for whom character change is possible (the curable), and those for whom it is not (the incurable). Recognizing this distinction and drawing out the ideas which ground it shows why Aristotle’s discussions of vice in EN vii and ix 4 are not inconsistent.

Der hier vorliegende Text befasst sich mit der Rezeption von Aristoteles’ Metaphysik Λ bei Albertus Magnus und Thomas von Aquin. Er stellt das Material bereit für die Auswertung, die als Band 61 der Bochumer Studien zur Philosophie unter dem Titel Zur mittelalterlichen Herkunft einiger Theoreme in der modernen Aristoteles-Interpretation Eine Fallstudie anhand der Kommentare von Albertus Magnus und Thomas von Aquin zu Aristoteles’ Metaphysik Λ, bei John Benjamins Publishing Company, Amsterdam / Philadelphia 2024, erscheinen wird. **************************** This text deals with (...) the reception of Aristotle's Metaphysics Λ by Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas. It provides the material for the analysis, which will be published as volume 61 of the BochumerStudien zur Philosophie under the title "Zur mittelalterlichenHerkunft einiger Theoreme in der modernenAristoteles-Interpretation. Eine Fallstudie anhand derKommentare von Albertus Magnus und Thomas vonAquin zu Aristoteles' Metaphysik Λ," by John Benjamins Publishing Company, Amsterdam / Philadelphia, 2024. (shrink)

Concepts of “self” and “right” in three civilizations: primarily Confucian and ancient Greek, with references to Aristotle’s medieval Christian commentators; Uses the classical Greek and Chinese traditions’ common incompatibility with modern liberal notion of “right” to explore the commonalities between them, and on that basis endeavors to connect the East to the West with a “right” that could better harmonize the self with society, right with duty, and negative with positive freedom.

This article is divided into three substantive sections. Section I delineates Aristotle’s theory of the soul as laid out in De Anima. Section II defines habeas corpus as a legal concept and demonstrates under what circumstances it should be granted. Section III applies Aristotle’s theory of the soul as a structure whereby animals could be granted habeas corpus rights.

The distinction between potentiality and possibility in Aristotle’s modal teleology is sometimes conflated by the implicative conjunction that potentiality implies possibility and possibility implies potentiality. In his unpublished doctoral dissertation Richard Rorty warns that trying to pin down Aristotle’s definition of potentiality often leads to treating the term as a “mere façon de parler.” Consonant with Rorty, this paper observes that the definition of possibility in Aristotle’s works is not without its own share of semantic snags. Subsequently, I abide by (...) Rorty’s caveat not only to resist the lure of expressive convenience some commentators have taken in describing potentiality, but also to elucidate possibility’s two-fold field of modal application. Consequently, this paper aims to present a nuanced account of how notions of potentiality and possibility are presented in Aristotle’s treatises for the sake of demonstrating that both sides of the potentiality/possibility conjunction do not mutually imply. (shrink)

Do minds and ideas connect, interact, or even depend on each other, and if so, how exactly do they connect and interact? How should we conceive of the mode and process of minds and ideas being in a network and connected in some way, that is, being intersubjective or social? Martin Lenz's study Socializing Minds convincingly shows that, contrary to widespread opinion in philosophy of mind, at least some early modern philosophers, here Spinoza, Locke, and Hume, actually give a positive (...) answer to the first question and present models that respond to the second question, thus addressing what Lenz proposes calling 'the contact problem' and repudiating the idea that mentalism is necessarily bound to individualism. In this comment, I focus on a detail in Lenz's reconstruction of Spinoza's 'metaphysical model' of the intersubjectivity of minds, namely the Aristotelian physical dynamism that would underlie Spinoza's idea of the interaction of minds. While I agree that Spinoza's model of interaction of minds refers to the Aristotelian conception of motion, I argue that the guiding principle in natural motion is best understood not only in terms of contrariety but also in terms of complementarity. Admittedly, my proposal goes beyond Spinoza's model of ideas in contact, and probably beyond Lenz's interpretation of that model, but it might enrich the imagination of the socialising of minds and ideas from a kinetic point of view, which, at least as I understand it, is precisely what Spinoza and Lenz thrive on. (shrink)

Classical Sparta is an enigma in many ways, but for ancient and contemporary political theorists it is especially intriguing insofar as its politeia (or its educational/political/social system or “constitution”) produced a city-state that was both the hegemon of all other Greek city-states, for instance during the 5th century Persians wars, but was also ignobly defeated by Thebes at the battle of Leuctra in 371, slightly more than a century later, after which its hegemony collapsed and its subject population of helots (...) won a war of emancipation. How did Sparta field citizen-soldiers in the 5th century who were without parallel in their bravery and military prowess? And why did Sparta, perhaps under the same politeia, collapse just over a century later? Xenophon, Plato, Aristotle, and Plutarch searched for answers to such questions in the Spartan public educational program, its mixed constitutions, and its apparently militaristic goal and orientation. Such 4th century intellectuals (and Plutarch, writing in the 1st century CE) debated whether Sparta’s collapse was the result of deep-rooted problems within its Lycurgan constitution or in Sparta’s subsequent departure from that constitution; there also is significant debate concerning the education and roles of women within Spartan society. (shrink)

Aristotle’s influence on D’Arcy Thompson was praised by Thompson himself and has been recognized by others in various respects, including the aesthetic and normative dimensions of biology, and the multicausal explanation of living forms. This article focuses on the relatedness of organic forms, one of the core problems addressed by both Aristotle’s History of Animals (HA), and the renowned chapter of Thompson’s On Growth and Form (G&F), “On the Theory of Transformations, or the Comparison of Related Forms.” We contend that, (...) far from being an incidental inspiration stemming from Thompson’s classicist background, his translation of HA played a pivotal role in developing his theory of transformations. Furthermore, we argue that Thompson’s interpretation of the Aristotelian method of comparison challenges the prevailing view of Aristotle as the founder of “typological essentialism,” and is a key episode in the revision of this narrative. Thompson understood that the method Aristotle used in HA to compare animal forms is better comprehended as a “method of transformations,” leading to a morphological arrangement of animal diversity, as opposed to a taxonomical classification. Finally, we examine how this approach to the relatedness of forms lay the foundation for a causal understanding of parts and their interconnections. Although Aristotle and Thompson emphasized distinct types of causes, we contend that they both differ in a fundamental sense from the one introduced by Darwin’s theory of natural selection, which was formulated as a solution to the species problem rather than the form problem. We conclude that Thompson’s interpretation of Aristotle’s approach to form comparison has not only impacted contemporary scholarship on Aristotle’s biology, but revitalized a perspective that has regained significance due to the resurgence of the problem of form in evo-devo. (shrink)

Ancient philosophical schools developed and discussed perspectives and practices on the emotion of anger useful in contemporary philosophical practice with clients, groups, and organizations. This paper argues the case for incorporating these insights from four main philosophical schools (Platonist, Aristotelian, Epicurean, and Stoic) sets out eight practices drawn from these schools, and discusses how these insights can be used by philosophical practitioners with clients.

Part one of this two-part paper looked at the modern semantic developments underlying Gilson’s innovative and highly influential semantic theory in Being and Some Philosophers (BSP)—the existential neutrality of the copula, the distinction between predication and some positing or “thetic” function of judgment, and the distinction between predication and assertion. The present part of this paper offers a rereading of Gilson’s work in light of this modern backdrop. It argues that Gilson’s BSP, rather than being a purely historical exegesis of (...) the logical writings of a thirteenth-century friar, is a work of original philosophizing inspired by Aquinas, but principally engaged with modern debates. In particular, it advances a Brentano- inspired reading of Aquinas in place of Maritain’s Pfänder-inspired reading of him. Rereading Gilson in his historical setting clarifies the meaning and implication of many phrases and theses that have become commonplaces in philosophical discourse, in part because of Gilson’s work. (shrink)

Gilson’s Being and Some Philosophers (BSP) has been widely influential well beyond Thomistic circles, but its modern historical sources and logical consequences call for further investigation. The first part of this two-part article explores three modern semantic assumptions or principles without which BSP’s innovative theory of existential judgment cannot be fully appreciated—the existential neutrality of the copula ubiquitous among modern logicians; Kant’s introduction of a positing or “thetic” function of judgment, the understanding of which evolved in nineteenth-century logic; and the (...) distinction between predication and assertion, generally accepted by late nineteenth century logicians. Part two of this paper offers a rereading of Gilson’s BSP as an implicit critique of and alternative to Maritain’s synthesis of Aquinas with these modern developments. (shrink)

The Promise of Friendship investigates what makes friendship possible and good for human beings. In dialogue with authors ranging from Aristotle and Montaigne to Proust, Levinas, and Derrida, Sarah Horton argues that friendship is suited to our finitude—that is, to the limits within which human beings live—and proposes a novel understanding of friendship as translation: friends translate the world for each other so that each one experiences the world not as the other does but in light of the friend's always-unknowable (...) experience. The very distance between friends that makes it impossible for them to know each other wholly also makes it possible for them to be transformed by friendship. Friendship, then, is possible and good for those who love precisely that they can never wholly know the friend. Friendship is a profound, mutual self-giving that highlights the irreplaceability of each person, fundamentally shapes the self, and is one of the greatest joys of human existence. (shrink)

Special volume of "Thaumàzein - Rivista di Filosofia" dedicated to the theme of Socratic Eudaimonia and care for others. It is a multilingual volume comprising twenty papers divided into six sections with an introduction by Linda Napolitano. Edited by Santiago Chame, Donald Morrison, and Linda Napolitano. -/- Despite the appearances given by certain texts, the moral psychology of Socrates needs not imply selfishness. On the contrary, a close look at passages in Plato and Xenophon (see Plato, Meno 77-78; Protagoras 358; (...) Gorgias 466-468; Euthydemus 278; Lysis 219; Xenophon, Memorabilia III 9, 4-5) suggests that the “egoist”’s welfare depends upon the welfare of others (i.e. family, friends or the whole city). Since the welfare of his family, friends and city is part of his own eudaimonìa, the “egoist” (phìlautos) has a direct and intrinsic motive to promote the welfare of these others. -/- This multilingual issue explores the role that other peoples’ welfare plays in Socratic ethics. Special attention is paid to test-cases in which the principle that moral action is always good only for the agent seems to have no validity. I.e., under which circumstances is the self-sacrifice for the sake of others (such as the soldier’s self-sacrifice on the battlefield) good for the agent (as in Alcibiades I 115a-116d)? Essays deal with contradictions or tensions of this sort, and relate them to more general views on eudaimonìa held within Socratic literature. Comparison between different Socratic authors is used as a means to identify the distinctive features of Socratic eudaimonìa if compared to other Greek theories of happiness, such as the Aristotelian theory of philautìa (NE IX, 1166a-1166b; 1168a-1169b). (shrink)

This book presents a (new) attempt to apply the notion of an underlying logic to Aristotle’s Organon and certain passages of the Metaphysics. The author situates his approach as part of a ‘deductio...

Posing qualia as the mark of the mental presents problems for both reductionist and non-reductionist views of the mind. An alternative platform to understand the ontology of mental states is presented using Polo's retrieval of Aristotle's notion of energeia. I propose that mental states are characterized in terms of temporal integration, a feature of mental states that happen in time but do not require duration in time. Other features like simultaneity, commensurability, and non-failure are derived from this 'zero-time' that characterizes (...) mental states. Some consequences that the 'zero-time' approach entails for a theory of the mind, especially for our understanding of the relationships between consciousness and intentionality and the structure of the mind, are presented. (shrink)

In this essay, I offer a critical analysis of one of the most provocative aspects of Heidegger’s unfinished confrontation with Aristotle’s thinking. Over the course of his lifelong engagement with Aristotle’s texts, Heidegger rarely failed to notice the constitutive ambiguity of the ancient Greek philosopher’s position within the history of being. On the one hand, Aristotle appeared to be the founder of the Western metaphysical tradition of ontotheology, whereby God was understood as the supreme principle and being of all beings. (...) But on the other hand, there were traces or echoes of a more originary thinking in Aristotle’s texts that, according to Heidegger, could be developed for the sake of another beginning. In this essay, I draw on this constitutive ambiguity by focusing on Heidegger’s partial translation of Metaphysics Λ 6, where Aristotle most explicitly discusses the being (οὐσία) of the unmoved being. Using Heidegger’s translation as an aid, I argue that Aristotle’s account of the unmoved being in Metaphysics Λ 6 is perhaps best understood as of- fering an enigmatic description of the origin of movement and time as an act of pure temporalizing (reine Zeitigung), which is how Heidegger translates the notion of ἐνέργεια. In the conclusion of this essay, I suggest that the temporal account of being and time as pure temporalizing offers a possible way to reappropriate Aristotle’s thinking in a phenomenological context. (shrink)

Yong Huang presents criticisms of Neo-Aristotelian meta-ethical naturalism and argues Zhu Xi’s Neo-Confucian approach is superior in defending moral realism. After presenting Huang’s criticisms of the Aristotelian metaethical naturalist picture, such as that of Rosalind Hursthouse, I argue that Huang’s own views succumb to the same criticisms. His metaethics does not avoid an allegedly problematic ‘gap,’ whether ontological or conceptual, between possessing a human nature and exemplifying moral goodness. This ontological gap exists in virtue of the fact that it is (...) possible for there to be bad people, and the conceptual gap exists in virtue of the fact that people are not ‘good’ (in that sense of being a good agent) merely because they are human. Aristotelians and Confucians both should reject that such gaps are problematic. I conclude by proposing that Huang is better understood as criticizing the Aristotelian move from scientific-empirical facts about human nature to the objective prescriptivity of moral norms. But so too I argue that Confucians should not follow Huang here either. There is good scientific evidence that would be supportive of a Confucian analysis of social virtues and provide one way of responding to those worries about the scientific-empirical accessibility of facts about the good life. (shrink)

A teleological explanation is an explanation in terms of an end or a purpose. So saying that ‘X came about for the sake of Y’ is a teleological account of X. It is a striking feature of ancient Greek philosophy that many thinkers accepted that the world should be explained in this way. However, before Aristotle, teleological explanations of the cosmos were generally based on the idea that it had been created by a divine intelligence. If an intelligent power made (...) the world, then it makes sense that it did so with a purpose in mind, so grasping this purpose will help us understand the world. This is the pattern of teleological explanation that we find in the Presocratics and in Plato. However, with Aristotle teleology underwent a change: instead of thinking that the ends were explanatory because a mind had sought to bring them about, Aristotle took the ends to operate in natural beings independently of the efforts of any creative intelligence. Indeed, he thought that his predecessors had failed to understand what was distinctive of nature, namely, that its ends work from the inside of natural beings themselves. (shrink)

Much of the debate about Aristotle’s criticisms of Plato has focused on the separability of the Forms. Here the dispute has to do with the ontological status of the Forms, in particular Plato’s claim for their ontological priority in relation to perceptible objects. Aristotle, however, also disputes the explanatory and causal roles that Plato claims for the Forms. This second criticism is independent of the first; even if the problem of the ontological status of the Forms were resolved to Aristotle’s (...) satisfaction, this second criticism would still stand. The problem here is not that there is no room for Aristotle’s four causes in Plato’s ontology; on the contrary, antecedents for all four can be found in Plato’s works. The problem, instead, is that Plato’s Forms fail to meet the general requirements that Aristotle sets out for the material, efficient, formal, and final causes of perceptible objects. Hence, even if the Forms were immanent in perceptible objects, they would still explain nothing about them. (shrink)

The paper addresses claims that Aristotle's notion of happiness is inconsistent given his expositions of happiness in Book I and Book X of NE. It argues that such claims are rooted in the erroneous conclusion that Aristotle defines happiness in Book I as living a "good life", and an unwarranted assumption that when Aristotle identifies happiness with contemplation, he has a professional philosopher in mind and contemplation as an activity one engages in leisurely and as a means of intellectual conditioning. (...) It further argues that happiness as Aristotle understands it is a reward for cultivating virtuous character and though everyone has the capacity for it, only few will attain happiness since it requires exertion and effort and many are unwilling to prioritize such acquisition. (shrink)

We have a basic definition of genus in Topics (I, 5, 102a31-35): ‘A genus is what is predicated in what a thing is of a number of things exhibiting differences in kind. We should treat as predicate in what a thing is all such things as it would be appropriate to mention in reply to the question “what is the object in question?”; as, for example, in the case of man, if asked that question, it is appropriate to say “He (...) is an animal.”’ He indicates that ‘of the common predicates that which is most definitely predicated in what the thing is, is likely to be the genus.’ (To. , I, 18, ^108b22) From this definition, what is demonstrative in the definition of genus, Aristotle asserts, is ‘what is common to all the cases.’ (To., I, 18, ^108b22) This common thing is ‘one identical thing which is predicated of both and is differentiated in no merely accidental way.’ (Met., I, 1057b37) This means that the things in which the genus is common must be essentially different. In fact, this very common genus must be essentially different in the things it is their genus. Therefore, things that are identical in a genus are at the same time different in that very genus. This means that though the genus is the same in them, it is indeed different in them and they are not the same as each other in that very same genus but specifically different from each other: ‘For not only must the common nature attach to the different things, e.g. not only must both be animals, but this very animal must also be different for each (e.g. in the one case horse, in the other man), and therefore this common nature is specifically different for the two things (διὰ τοῦτο τὸ κοινὸν ἓτερον ἀλλήλων ἐστι τῷ εἴδει). One then will be in virtue of its own nature one sort of animal, and the other another, e.g. one a horse and the other a man. This difference then must be an otherness of the genus. For I give the name of ‘difference in the genus’ to an otherness which makes the genus itself other.’ A. Characteristics of genera The following are the characteristics of genera: 1. Those to which the same figure of predication applies are one in genus. (Met. , Δ, 1016b32-35) 2. Things that are one in genus are all one by analogy while things that are one by analogy are not all one in genus. (Met, Δ, 1016b35-1017a3) 3. A genus includes contraries. (Met., Δ, 1018a25-31) 4. All the intermediates are in the same genus as one another and as the things they stand between. (Met., I, 1057a18-30; 1057b31-34) 5. Not every predicate is a genus of what it is predicated on; for this would equate a genus with one of its own species. (PsA., A, 22, 83b7-10) 6. The opposite of the genus should always be the genus of the opposite. (To., Δ, 4, ^125a27-29) 7. A genus divides the object from other things. (To., Z, 3, 140a^24) 8. None of unity and being is a genus. (Met., B, 998b22-27; Met., K, 1059b31-34; PsA., B, 7, 92b12-14) 9. There is no necessity or even no possibility that things that are the same specifically or generically should be numerically the same. (To., H, I, 152b30-) 10. To be called one due to having one genus is in a way similar to be one due to having the same matter. (Met., Δ, 1016a24-28) 11. The substance of a thing involves its genus, and thereby all the higher genera are predicated of the lower. (To., Z, 5, 143a^20- ) 12. Being falls immediately into genera. (Met., Γ, 1004a4-6) 13. They do not exist apart from the individuals. (Met., B, 999a29-32; Met., I, 1053b21-22) 14. A genus is not a simple qualification but marks off the qualification of substance. (Cat., 5, 3b18-21) 15. Genera are criteria of difference when ‘the things have not their matter in common and are not generated out of each other.’ (Met., I, 1054b27-31) 16. The genus of a thing is its matter (ὓλη). (Met., I, 1058a23-25) 17. A genus is applicable to a wider range than its species. (Cat., 5, 3b21-23) 18. A genus is prior to its species in existence: while a genus reciprocates on the existence of its species, they do not reciprocate on the existence of their genus. (Cat., 13, 15a3- ) Aristotle’s example is this: if there is a fish there is an animal, but if there is an animal, there is not necessarily a fish. 19. The genus of a thing expresses ‘what it is’ and its essence. (To., I, 5, 102a31- ; To., Z, 5, 143a^20- ) 20. A genus is most familiar than its differentia and may be them all. (To., Z, 9, 149a16) 21. The genus is more substantial than its species. (Met., H, 1042a13-16) 22. One, being and substance cannot be classes. (Met., I, 1053b21-24; cf. 1054a8-11) 23. Aristotle draws a distinction between a simple and a composite concept in their falling within a genus. While a simple one can, a composite one cannot. He discusses this between ‘justice’ and ‘just man’: ‘the former falls within the genus, whereas the other does not … for nothing which does not happen to belong to the genus is essentially the genus; e.g. a white man is not essentially a color.’ (To., Γ, 1, ^116a24) 1) Genus and universal ‘Genera are universals’ (Met., Λ, 1069a26-27; Δ, 1014b9-10) and more universal than differentia and species (Met., Δ, 1014b9-12), but it is evident that not all universals are genera. (Met., A, 992b10-13) 2) Co-ordinate species The species resulting from the same division are co-ordinate species. They are the results of the same division in the same genus. Thus, none of them is prior or posterior to others but they are simultaneous by nature. (Cat., 13, 14b33-15a3) 3) Priority of genus to species Aristotle defines prior (λοιπόν) based on reciprocation as to implication of existence: ‘Τhat from which the implication of existence does not hold reciprocally is thought to be prior.’ (Cat., 12, 14a32-34) His examples are genera and species: ‘genera are always prior to species since they do not reciprocate as to implication of existence.’ (Cat., 13, 15a4-6) Τhus, if there is a fish, there is an animal, but if there is an animal, there is not necessarily a fish. 4) Generic versus non-generic attributes As the above discussions illustrates, not all attributes can be genera of their subjects. Thus, we ought to distinguish between generic and non-generic attributes of each subject. K. J. Spalding distinguishes between substantive and classificatory attributes, a distinction that, he believes, is absent from the Aristotelian logic. Classificatory attributes are those that originate and exist in class alone, and are generic like ‘human’ and ‘animal.’ These attributes do not belong to the individual as individual. For example, animal belongs to the Socrates not as Socrates but as man. Substantive attributes, on the other hand, are those that belong to Socrates as Socrates and not as a class. Attributes like sense attributes that originate independently of generic structure and ‘do not involve a necessary relation to or dependence on a class’ are substantive attributes. (shrink)

The concept of universal in Aristotle’s philosophy has several aspects. 1) Universal and plurality Aristotle posits universal (καθόλου) versus particular (καθ᾿ ἕκαστον) each covering a range of elements: some elements are universal while others are particulars. Aristotle defines universal as ‘that which by nature is predicated (κατηγορεῖσθαι) of many subjects’ and particular as ‘that which is not’ so. (OI ., I, 7, 17a38-b1) The plurality of possible subjects of universal is what Aristotle insists on. The inclusion of the notion of (...) ‘plurality’ in the definition of universal might make us expect to have ‘singularity’ in the definition of particular. So, when Aristotle says that universal is that which is naturally predicable of many subjects, we expect him to define the particular as ‘that which is predicable of one subject only.’ Nonetheless, Aristotle does not and indeed cannot define it this way. We cannot find a text in which he defines particular as such simply because particulars are not predicable of any subject unless we regard their predication of themselves a predication, which Aristotle does not, at least in a genuine sense. Thus, he defines a particular only negatively. Hence, the capability of predication of a plurality is indeed the capability of predication itself because the particular cannot be predicated of anything. A particular is that which cannot be predicated of anything (or: of anything else, if saying of a thing of itself is to be considered as predication). It is ‘numerically one’ and what of which the universal is predicated (Met., B, 999b34-1000a1). Those that cannot be predicated of anything, or particulars, are of two kinds: primary substances and individual accidents. Besides Categories we can hardly find a text where Aristotle discusses individual accidents maybe because they are of much less importance for him compared with substances. However, substances are what he mentions repeatedly so that we can confine particulars to substances. In fact, it is substance that Aristotle considers so repeatedly as what cannot be predicated. As the main particulars and individuals, substances are posited as the main things that are not universal. The closeness of the two concepts of ‘substance’ and ‘unpredicability’ is to the extent that he ignores individual accidents and makes these concepts equal and as the opposite of universal: ‘what is not predicated of a subject is said a substance (οὐσία λέγετα τὸ μὴ καθ᾿ ὑποκειμένου) but what is always said of some subject is called a universal.’ (Met., Z, 1038b15-16. cf. Met., B, 1003a7-9) Therefore, since particulars cannot be predicated of any subject and, thus, every predication is necessarily a predication of a plurality of subjects, the inclusion of ‘plurality’ in the definition of universal is either i) in the sense of ‘representation’ or it must be regarded as ii) an unnecessary addition mentioned just for clarification or iii) only for avoiding cases where something is predicated of itself. By the first we mean this: though a substance is not said of anything, it represents some one thing and there is some one thing that is that substance. A universal, on the other hand, can represent a plurality of things. There is, however, a third possibility that has no essential difference with the sense of representation. Aristotle might have ‘arbitrary predication’ in mind when he suses ‘plurality’ in the definition of universal: while a particular can be the arbitrary predicate of just one thing, a universal can be predicated, both really and arbitrarily, of many things. Whatever Aristotle’s intention was, what is important for our investigation is this: Aristotle uses the notion of plurality in the definition of universal in spite of the fact that it is not necessary. What this implies is that this notion is so important for Aristotle that albeit every predictability is a predictability of a possible plurality, he adds the notion of plurality. What makes this notion important, I believe, is that he has something like a class in mind when he defines a universal because the notion of plurality is indistinguishable from a class. 2) Universal and whole; particular and part In Aristotle, the concepts of universal and whole are so close: ‘That which is true of a whole class and is said to hold good as a whole (which implies that it is a kind of whole) is true of a whole in the sense that it contains many things by being predicated of each, and that each and all of them, e.g. man, horse, god, are one because all are living things (τὸ μὲν γὰρ καθόλου καὶ τὸ ὃλως λεγόμενον ὡς πολλὰ περιέχον τῷ κατηγορεῖσθαι καθ’ ἑκάστου καὶ ἓν ἃπαντα εἶναι ὡς ἑκαστον, ...). Phil Corkum points to Aristotle’s distinction between quantitative and integral wholes in Met., 5, 26, 1023b26-33 where a quantitative whole is called homoiomerous, as the sum of animal while an integral whole, e.g. a house, is called heteromerous. He links the notion of homoiomerous to the notion of indivisibility of individuals (in 1b6-9 and 3b10-18) and indivisibility of universals. He believes that in PrA., I, 4, 25b32-26a2 it is the transitivity of mereological containment that is discussed. 3) Universal is common between instances Universal is common (κοινόν) between all the plurality of subjects it can be predicated of because what belongs to more than one thing must be common between them. (Met., Z, 1038b10-12) In the Same way, what is common cannot be a particular and, thus, a substance. (Met., Z, 1040b23-24) An individual or substance is a ‘this’ and a ‘this’ cannot be what common indicates simply because it is here in ‘this’ and can be nowhere else while common must be common between several things. In fact, what can be indicated by a common is indeed a ‘such.’ (Met., B, 1003a7-9) 4) Universal is the same in its instances We have a universal i) in all of its instances and ii) in the same way (ταὐτὸ ἐπὶ πὰντων). (Met, Γ, 1005a9-10) While the first point is evident (otherwise how could it be their universal?), the second point might seem not only ambiguous but the cause of many problems. For Aristotle, therefore, a universal must be ‘one’ in number and not many. This numerically one universal is the very universal for all its instances. It is the same universal that is predicated on each of its instances. This sameness is not, however, a mere homonymous sameness or the sameness of a homonymous word. All these three points, namely oneness, sameness and rejection of mere homonymous sameness are asserted in Aristotle’s own words τι ἕν καὶ τὸ αὐτὸ ἐπὶ πλειόνων μη ὁμώνυμον. (PsA., A, 11, 77a8-9) This non-homonymous unity is asserted also in PsA., A, 24, 85b15-16. 5) Universal as predicate Contrary to substance that cannot be a predicate, universal is what cannot be prevented from being in the place of predicate. Therefore, Aristotle distinguishes universal from subject because while the latter must necessarily be capable of being a predicate, though it might take the position of subject as well, the latter does not necessarily have such a capability especially when it is a this because it cannot be a predicate in such a case: ‘For the subject and universal differ in being or not being a ‘this’; like man and body and soul are the subject of accidents while the accident is something like musical or white.’ (Met., Θ, 1049a27-30) This indicates that a universal is basically different from subject and although it can be posited in the place of subject, it is the position of predicate that is its position as a universal. In Metaphysics, Z, 13, Aristotle asserts that ‘no universal can be substance.’ The same is asserted in Met., I, 1053b16-17 cf. 1060b21. As James H. Lesher points out, Aristotle’s position is that ‘nothing predicated universally is a substance.’ 6) Universal in substance In Met., 10388b8-9 Aristotle says that no universal is a substance. While a universal cannot be a substance in the way essence (to ti en einai) is, it is, Aristotle asserts, ‘in’ it (ἐν τούτῳ δὲ ἐνυπάρχειν) (Met., Ζ, 1038b16-18). Aristotle’s examples are: animal in man and horse. A universal is ‘in’ the thing it is its universal. But in what sense a universal can be in a thing? It cannot be in it as ‘in a subject’, which is denied in Categories for secondary substances. If we check the senses of being in, we can find some other senses of ‘being in’ some of which are compatible with this sense of ‘being in.’ Michael J. Loux believes that contrary to his earlier works like Peri Ideaon and Organon in which the immanence of universals signals a reproduction of the platonic two worlds picture, in his later works like Physics and Metaphysics, when Aristotle tells us that universals are in particulars he means that they are ‘components of or ingredients in sensible particulars.’ In Metaphysics (Δ, 1014b3-9) Aristotle compares elements with universals and call them ‘the most universal things because elements are present either in all or in many things. 7) Logos is of universal Not only universals have logos (Met., Z, 1038b18-19) but ‘Every logos and every science is of universals and not of particulars.’ (Met., K, 1059b25-26) The reason is that they are the same: the logos of the unjiversal ‘circle’ is nothing but ‘being circle’ and the logos of the universal ‘soul’ is ‘being soul.’ (Met., Z, 1035b33-1036a2) The same is said about definition. (Met, Z, 1036a27-29) 8) Universal: in the soul Contrasting individuals, universals are in the soul (So., 3, 5, 417b22-23; cf. PsA., B, 19, 100a6-7). Aristotle also says that the form, i.e. the essence, of the artwork is in the soul. (met., Z, 1032a32-b2) Moreover, as Michael J. Loux points out, ‘the Peri Ideon tells us that we need universals to serve as the objects of noetic acts.’ 9) Universal: not beside individual In spite of the fact that demonstration creates the opinion that demonstrating is based on the existence of universals as existing among the existing things, they do not have existence besides individuals (PsA., A, 24, 85a31-35; Met, Λ, 1071a19-23). Aristotle believes that universals of a P-series (B203, 71) are not παρὰ τὰ εἴδη: 999a6ff. Also check De Anima, II, 3, 414b20-25 10) Primary or commensurate universal Aristotle distinguishes ‘πρῶτον καθόλού’ (PsA., B, 17, 99a33-35) literally meaning ‘primary universal’ but mostly, and truly, translated as commensurate universal. While a universal merely ‘μὴ ἀντιςτρέφει,’ a primary universal ‘ᾧ ἓκαςτον μὲν μὴ ἀντιςτρέφει’ (PsA., B, 17, 99a33-35). Aristotle mentions three conditions for a commensurate universal. It is an attribute that i) belongs to every instance of its subject (without exception!!!), and this belonging is ii) essentially and iii) qua that subject itself (ᾗ αύτό). (PsA., A, 4, 73b26-28) However, he insists that the second and the third conditions are indeed the same. (PsA., A, 4, 73b28-30) The first condition he paraphrases as ‘to belong to any random instance of that subject’ and the second and the third as ‘when the subject is the first thing to which it can be shown to belong.’ (PsA., A, 4, 73b32-74a3) Aristotle’s example is ‘the equality of its angles to two right angles’. This attribute is not a commensurate universal of figure due to the first condition: it cannot be demonstrated of any figure. Nonetheless, though it can be demonstrated of every isosceles because every isosceles has angles equal to two right angles, it is not a commensurate universal of isosceles due to the other conditions: it is not predicated of isosceles qua isosceles but qua triangle. These conditions seem to be like regulators: they organize everything to match to the right group. The method of finding commensurate universal is like test and error method based on elimination: you must eliminate each of the higher or lower universals and check if the attribute remains or not. The commensurate universal is that which remains in between eliminated universals. (cf. PsA., A, 5, 74a37-b4) Brad Inwoodpresents an understanding of commensurate universal that is different from what I have understood and, thus, must be checked: ‘These universals are propositions in which, for example, ‘all A are B’ is true and which are still true universal statements if converted: ‘all B are A’ is also true.’ -/- . (shrink)

Aristotle classifies opposition (ἀντικεῖσθαι) into four groups: relatives (τὰ πρός τι), contraries (τὰ ἐναντία), privation and possession (στρέσις καὶ ἓξις) and affirmation and negation (κατάφασις καὶ ἀπόφασις). (Cat. , 10, 11b15-23) His example of relatives are the double and the half. Aristotle’s description of relatives as a kind of opposition is as such: ‘Things opposed as relatives are called just what they are, of their opposites (αὐτὰ ἃπερ ἐστι τῶν ἀντικειμένων λέγεται) or in some other way in relation to them. (...) For example, the double is called just what it is double of the other (οἷον τὸ διπλάσιον, αὐτὸ ὃπερ ἐστίν, ἑτέρου διπλάσιον λέγεται). Again, knowledge and the knowable are opposed as relatives, and knowledge is called just what it is, of the knowable, and the knowable too is called just what it is, in relation to its opposite, knowledge; for the knowable is called knowable by something-by knowledge.’ (Cat., 10, 11b24-30) 2) Senses of relatives In Met., Δ, 1020b26-32 Aristotle distinguishes three senses of relatives: i) That which contains something else many times to that which is contained many times in something else, and that which exceeds to that which is exceeded. E.g. double to half ii) The active to the passive; e.g. that which can heat to that which can be heated iii) The measurable to the measure, e.g. the knowable to knowledge and the perceptible to perception. 3) Relatives and contraries Aristotle’s discussion of relatives is unbelievably ambiguous. While he enumerates relatives besides contraries, privation-possession and affirmation-negation as four types of opposition (Cat., 10, 11b15-23), not only does not he restrict relatives to oppositions but he also does not totally differentiate it from contraries. Aristotle distinguishes between two senses of relatives one of which is contraries: ‘We have distinguished elsewhere the two senses in which relatives are so called-some as contraries (ὡς ἐναντία), others as knowledge to things known, a term being called relative because what is said one to the other is said by the other to itself (τῷ λέγεσθαί τι ἄλλο πρὸς αὐτό). (Met., I, 1056b34-1057a1) It seems that this differentiation is the same as, and maybe the one he himself refers to, the differentiation between the second and the third senses of relatives in Met., Δ, 1021a27-32: ‘Relative terms which imply number or capacity, therefore, are all relative because their very essence includes in its nature a reference to something else, not because something else is related to it (πρός τι πὰντα ἐστὶ πρός τι τῷ ὃπερ ἐστὶν ἄλλου λέγεσθαι αὐτὸ ὃ ἐστιν, ἀλλὰ μὴ τῷ ἄλλο πρὸς ἐκεινο); but that which is measurable or knowable or thinkable is called relative because something else is related to it. For the thinkable implies that there is thought of it, but the thought is not relative to that of which it is the thought; for we should then have said the same thing twice.’ Although Aristotle confirms contrariety in relatives (e.g. virtue to vice and knowledge to ignorance), he denies that there is a contrary ‘to every relative’ as there can be no contrary to what is double or treble. (Cat., 7, 6b15-19) The fact that Aristotle dedicates one sense of relatives to contraries means that the fourfold division of oppositions is not such a strict division without any kind of community between them. In his example of the first sense, however, Aristotle says: ‘One and number are in a sense opposed, not as contrary, but as we have said some relative terms are opposed; for inasmuch as one is measure and the other measurable, they are opposed.’ (Met., I, 1057a4-6) Now, the question is: Is Aristotle’s first sense of relative a contrary or not? Aristotle tells us that the opposition in this sense of relatives is the opposition of measure and measurable. The second sense has two differences with the first one: i) it is not a contrary and ii) what is said by one of the relatives to the other is also said by the latter to the former. To differentiate it from the first sense, when the one is the measure of the other, the latter will be the measure of the former as well: ‘But though knowledge is similarly spoken of as related to the knowable, the relation does not work out similarly for while knowledge might be thought to be the measure, and the knowable the thing measured, the fact is that all knowledge is knowable, but not all that is knowable is knowledge, because in a sense knowledge is measured by the knowable.’ (Met., I, 1057a7-12) Aristotle’s assertion at Met., I, 1057a36-37 that ‘of relative terms, those which are not contrary have no intermediate’ ensures us that we must take the first sense as contraries. Here he mentions a criterion of differentiation between two senses: while the first sense accepts intermediates (as, for example, great and small do), the second one does not. (Met., I, 1057a37-b1) It seems, however, that it is only the second sense that is the essential sense of relatives because the first sense, Aristotle says, is an accidental sense: ‘The one is opposed then to the many in numbers as measure to things measureable; and these are opposed as relatives which are not from their very nature relatives.’ (Met., I, 1056b32-34) 4) Definition of relative Aristotle’s first definition of the category of relative (πρός τι) is as such: ‘We call relative all such things as are said to be just what they are, of or than other things, or in some other way in relation to something else (Πρός τι δὲ τὰ τοιαῦτα λέγεται, ὃσα αὐτὰ ἃπερ ἐστὶν ἓτερων εἶναι λέγεται, ἢ ὁπωσοῦν ἄλλως πρὸς ἓτερον). (Cat., 7, 6a36-37; repeated almost without any change in: Cat., 7, 6b6-8) Aristotle’s examples are larger (because it is what it is than something else (τοῦθ᾿ ὃπερ ἐστὶν ἑτέρου λέγεται) that means it is called larger than something) and double. (Cat., 7, 6a37-b1) Aristotle’s aporia regarding relative is about their relation with substances: whether no substance is spoken of as a relative, or whether this is possible with regard to some secondary substances. (Cat., 7, 8a13-15) In the case of primary substances, it seems that he is confident, at least at first, that neither themselves nor their parts are spoken of in relation to anything: neither an individual man is called someone’s individual man nor an individual hand is called someone’s individual hand (but someone’s hand). (Cat., 7, 8a15-21) Although it is obvious that most of secondary substances are not spoken of as relatives (a man is not called someone’s man) (Cat., 7, 8a21-25), there are some with them there is room for dispute: a head is someone’s head and a hand is called someone’s hand, which seem to be relatives. (Cat., 7, 8a25-28) Aristotle thinks this must be due to the previous definition’s being problematic: with that definition ‘it is either exceedingly difficult or impossible to reach the solution that no substance is spoken of as a relative.’ (Cat., 7, 8a28-32) Thus, Aristotle changes his previous definition to a new one: ‘Those things are relatives for which being is the same as being somehow related to something’ (ἔστι τὰ πρός τι οἷς τὸ εἶναι ταὐτόν ἐστι τῷ πρός τί). (Cat., 7, 8a32-34) Although the first definition does indeed apply to all relations, its problem is that it does not take ‘their own being relative’ (τῷ πρός τι αὐτοῖς εἶναι) the same as ‘their being what they are of other things’ (ἃπερ ἐστὶν ἑτέρων λέγεσθαι). (Cat., 7, 8a34-37) Although this change of definition is to exclude all substances from being relative, what Aristotle says in Topics (To., Z, 8, 146a39- ), seems to ignore this: ‘For of everything relative the substance is relative to something else, seeing that the being of every relative term is identical with being in a certain relation to something.’ 5) Necessary knowledge of the related Knowledge of that in relation to which a relative is spoken of is necessary when one knows the relative: it is impossible to know a relative and at the same time not to know that in relation to which it is spoken of. (Cat., 7, 8a37-b3) To prove this, Aristotle adheres to the definition of relatives: ‘If someone knows of a certain ‘this’ that it is a relative, and being for relatives is the same as being somehow related to something, he knows that also to which this is somehow related.’ (Cat., 7, 8a37-b3; cf. 7, 8b3-15 for Aristotle’s examples) This necessary knowledge of the related, if we call it so, dedicates Aristotle an epistemological reason, besides the ontological one mentioned in his definition, for the exclusion of substances. As we noted in our discussion of Aristotle’s definition of relatives, he changed his first definition to exclude all substances from being relatives. Therefore, it is evident that for him relatives must not include substances, either primary or secondary. Aristotle does have no problem with primary substances simply because it is evident for him that they cannot be relatives. The same can be said about most of the secondary substances as well. The problem for which he changed the definition of substances was about some secondary substances like ‘head’ or ‘hand’: the fact that it is possible to know a hand or head without necessarily knowing definitely that in relation to which it is spoken of proves that they are not relatives. (Cat., 7, 8b15-21) 6) Reciprocation Aristotle regards reciprocation (ἀντιστρέφειν) necessary in all relations: ‘All relatives are spoken of in relation to correlatives that reciprocate.’ (Cat., 7, 6b28-29; cf. Cat., 10, 12b21-24) The sense of reciprocation is clear by his own examples: ‘The slave is called slave of a master and the master is called master of a slave; the double double of a half, and the half half of a double.’ (Cat., 7, 6b29-31) Reciprocation of relatives is so necessary that if there seems that we do not have reciprocation, it must necessarily be due to a mistake and that in relation to which something is spoken of must have not been given properly. (Cat., 7, 6b36-7a1) Aristotle’s example is this: If a wing is given as of a bird, ‘bird of a wing’ does not reciprocate because it has not been given properly: a wing is of a winged and not of a bird; a wing is wing of a winged and a winged is winged with a wing. (Cat., 7, 7a1-5) Even if we do not have a proper name to have a proper reciprocation, Aristotle points, we must invent names. (Cat., 7, 7a5-15 and 7b10-14) Thus, having proper names is the condition of necessary reciprocation: ‘All relatives are spoken of in relation to correlatives that reciprocate, provided they are properly given.’ (Cat., 7, 7a22-23) This condition is also said in another way: there is no reciprocation if a relation is given as related to some chance thing or to something that is accidentally the related thing like when, for example, a slave is given as of a man or a biped instead of being given as of a master. (Cat., 7, 7a25-31) 7) Simultaneity of relatives Aristotle believes that in most cases relatives are simultaneous: double and half or master and slave must exist at the same time: when there is a half, there is a double and when there is a slave, there is a master. (Cat., 7, 7b10-14) However, this receives some exceptions like knowable, which is prior and can, thus, exist before and without knowledge. (Cat., 7, 7b22-27) What approves this non-simultaneousness for Aristotle is that the destruction of knowledge does not carry the knowable to destruction. (Cat., 7, 7b27-31) The same is said about perception and perceptible. (Cat., 7, 7b35-8a9) Aristotle attaches simultaneity to reciprocation. This reciprocation, however, is not a simple reciprocation but ‘reciprocation as to implication of existence’ (ἀντιστρέφει μὲν κατὰ τὴν τοῦ εἶναι) with the condition that neither be in any way the cause of the other’s existence. (Cat., 13, 14b27-29; the same is said also at: Cat., 13, 15a4-11) Aristotle’s examples are the double and the half because when there is a double there is a half and when there is a half there is a double but neither is the cause of the other’s existence. (Cat., 13, 14b29-32) (We have ‘reciprocation as to implication of existence’ also in relation between genus and species but it seems that this has a totally different sense there. 8) Having no independent reality That a relative cannot be a substance, either a primary or a secondary substance, is discussed in our review of both the definition of relatives and their reciprocation. The differentiation of relatives and substances are so deep for Aristotle that after questioning the possibility of any common element or principle for substances and relatives (Met., Λ, 1070a33-36), he asserts that no substance, on the one hand, is the element of relatives and none of the relatives, on the other hand, is the element of substances. (Met., Λ, 1070b3-4) Aristotle does not, however, suffice to this. For him, relatives have the least substantiality, which is, for him, almost the same as reality: ‘The relative is least of all categories a real thing (φύσις τις) or substance, and less than quality and quantity; and the relative is an affection of quantity.’ (Met., M, 1088a22-25) Aristotle believes that an evidence of this least reality (ὄν) and substantiality is that relatives have no proper generation, destruction or movement while each of substance, quality and quantity have them. (Met., M, 1088a29-35) Moreover, neither motion (Phy., E, 1) nor any kind of change is applicable to relatives so that relatives are neither themselves alterations nor the subject of alterations (Phy., Z, 3) and the process of losing and acquiring states cannot be considered as alterations because these are the result of the alterations of non-relative things of which they are states. (Phy., Z, 3) Relative is not even matter but is something different. (Met., M, 1088a24-25) The reason is that the matter is potentially of a nature but relative is neither potentially nor actually of a nature. (Met., M, 1088b1-2) To understand the status of relatives in Aristotle’s world, we have to make a tripartite classification; a classification that though Aristotle himself did not make, his assertions approve it. Based on this division, there are three kinds of being in the world: i) Independent beings: This class includes only substances. ii) Dependent beings: This class includes qualities and quantities. Although they are real, they are ‘in’ substances and cannot exist without them. iii) Super dependent beings: This class includes at least relatives. The fact that relatives must be considered in a third class different from substances, on the one hand, and qualities and quantities, on the other hand, is obvious not only from the previously mentioned texts (Met., M, 1088a22-25, 29-35 and b1-2) in which relatives’ reality is considered less than all substances, qualities and quantities and different from matters but from this text: ‘For there is nothing either great or small, many or few, or, in general, relative which is not something (τι ὄν) different (ἓτερον) [that is also] many or few or great or small’. (Met, N, 1088a27-30) Therefore, super dependent beings are those beings that must necessarily be also something else, i.e. an independent or dependent being. Ackrill (1963, 99) points that some of the words used by Aristotle to exemplify relational entities, e.g. slave, are endowed with a complete sense and do not need to be supplemented by a correlate. (Thus, the linguist criterion of incompleteness would be deficient. Some other instances of relative entities like ‘state,’ ‘knowledge’ and perception are not necessarily followed by the genitive case. 9) Extent of relatives What is the extent of relatives? What are or are not included in relatives either among categories or among other concepts? Which concepts or things Aristotle regard as relative? i) Aristotle includes state (ἓξις) and position (θέσις) among relatives. (Cat., 7, 6b2-6; Cat., 7, 6b11-14; Cat., 8, 11a20-24) ii) Although relative is not matter but is something different (Met., M, 1088a24-25), matter is ‘non-being’ only in virtue of an attribute (Phy., A, 9) and is, thus, a relative term. (Phy., B, 2, 194b9) 10) Property and relativity Aristotle draws a contrast between two types of giving a property, absolute and relative: ‘A property is given either in its own right and for always or relative to something else and for a time.’ (To., E, 1, ^128b15-18) Being a civilized man, for example, is an absolute property for man while to command is a relative property for the soul. The absolute property, however, is considered not only potential to be discussed or observed in relation to many things or periods of time, it in fact ‘belongs to its subject relatively to every single thing that there is, so that if the subject is not distinguished relatively to everything else, the property will not have been given correctly.’ (To., E, 1, 129a18-20) Therefore, an absolute property is a property that ‘is ascribed to a thing in comparison with everything else and distinguishes it from everything else.’ (To., E, 1, 128b33- ) An absolute property is, then, absolutely relative and not conditionally relative, i.e. relative to a specific thing. This is what differentiates it from a relative property, which is relative to a certain thing: ‘A property relative to something else is one which separates its subject off not from everything else but from a particular definite thing.’ (To., E, 1, 128b33- ) One important difference between absolute and relative properties is that while an accident can be a relative property, it can never be an absolute property. (To., I, 5, ^102b20-36) For example, sitting, which is an accident, is also a property relatively to those who are not sitting. (To., I, 5, ^102b20-36) 11) Platonic theories as relatives At least three of Platonic theories Aristotle attaches to relatives: i) Forms ‘It seems that a Form is always spoken of in relation to a Form-this desire itself is for the pleasure itself, and wishing itself is for the good itself.’ (To., Z, 8, 147a^10) Moreover, the theory of Forms takes the relative prior to the absolute as, for example, it takes not the dyad but the number as first. (Met., A, 990b15-17) Aristotle believes that this is against not only the necessities of the case but only the Platonists’ opinion because Forms must be substances only, if they can be shared. (Met., A, 990b27-29) There are, however, things like ‘equal’ which are only relative: they are only in relation to something else. Now the theory that ideas are supposed to be substances only should entail the substantiality of merely relatives. The reason being that Forms are not shared incidentally but each thing shares in that which is not predicated of a subject. (Met., A, 990b29-31) ii) Unequal The Platonic theory of great and small or unequal, which we know more from Aristotle and has, in Platonic philosophy, a role like that of matter in Aristotelian philosophy, is also called relative by Aristole. (Met., M, 1089b4-15) iii) Potentiality Aristotle says that Platonists take what potentially is a ‘this’ and a substance but not actually so a relative because it is ‘neither potentially the one or being, nor the contradictory of the one nor of being, but one among beings.’ (Met., N, 1089b15-20) 12) All things as relative Aristotle attaches the theory that ‘everything is true’ to relativity and thinks the consequence of believing in this theory is that everything is true: ‘He who says all things that appear are true, makes all things relative.’ (Met., Γ, 1011a17-20) 13) Genera and species of relatives There are some genera, Aristotle hints, that are relative but their species are not relative. In such cases, the genera are spoken of in relation to something, but none of the particular cases are so spoken. (Cat., 8, 11a20-36) Aristole’s examples are knowledge and grammar of which the former is a relative but the latter is a quality. The consequence of this is that there is nothing absurd for a thing to be in both genera of relative and quality. (Cat., 8, 11a37- ) However, when the species is a relative, the genera will be a relative too. (To., Δ, 4, 124b15- ) Moreover, Aristotle asserts that ‘the differentiae of relative terms are themselves relative.’ (To., Z, 6, 145a14-16) Things that are called relative are called so, Aristotle says, ‘because the classes that include them are of this sort, e.g. medicine is thought to be relative bcs its genus, knowledge, is thought to be relative,’ (Met., Δ, 1021b4-6) 14) Relatives as indefinite? Fabio Morales takes 1088a29-b1 as a textual evidence supporting the assumption that Aristotle regarded relational terms as indefinite. (shrink)

There are four ways in which things are said to oppose (ἀντικεῖσθαι) each other: as relatives (τὰ πρός τι), as contraries (τὰ ἐναντία), as privation and possession (στρέσις καὶ ἓξις) and as affirmation and negation (κατάφασις καὶ ἀπόφασις). (Cat. , 10, 11b15-23) Aristotle’s examples are: double and half for relatives, good and bad for contraries, blindness and sight for privation and possession and ‘He is sitting’ and ‘he is not sitting’ for affirmation and negation. We discussed relatives separately thus we (...) ignore it here. A. Contraries Contraries (ἐναντία) have the following features: 1) They are not said of each other (οὐδαμῶς πρὸς ἄλληλα λέγεται) as relatives are said of each other. (Cat., 10, 11b15-23) 2) Contraries are of two kinds: a) Non-intermediables: Those that it is necessary for one or the other of them to belong to the things they naturally occur in or predicated of and accept no intermediate between themselves. Since it is necessary for one of e.g. health and sickness to occur in an animal’s body or odd and even to belong to a number, there is no intermediate between health and sickness or odd and even. (Cat., 10, 11b38-12a9; 12b28-34) b) Intermediables: Those that it is not necessary for one of them to belong to the things they naturally occur in or predicated of and accept intermediates between themselves. It is not necessary for one of e.g. black and white to belong to a body and there may be some intermediates between them. (Cat., 10, 12a9-25; 12b34-40) 3) Contraries can change to one another when the thing capable of receiving them is there. (Cat., 13a18-21) The only exception is when one of the contraries belongs to something by nature. In such cases, change is not possible as the hotness of fire cannot change to coldness while fire is still there. 4) Contraries belong to the same thing, either the same in species or in genus as e.g. sickness and health in an animal’s body or whiteness and blackness in body simply. (Cat., 10, 14a15- ) In Metaphysics (I, 1058a8-10) Aristotle asserts that contraries are in the same genus. 5) There are three possibilities about the genera of contraries: they either are in the same genus, e.g. black and white, or in the contrary genera, e.g. justice and injustice, or are themselves genera, e.g. good and bad. (Cat., 11, 14a19-25) 6) Doing and being affected admit of contrariety, e.g. heating is contrary to cooling. (Cat., 9, 11b1-4) 7) Substances only are able to receive contraries. (Cat., 5, 4a10-17) 8) There is nothing contrary to a substance, whether primary or secondary. (Cat., 5, 3b24-27) Thus, neither man nor an individual man has a contrary. 9) There is no contrary to a quantity: e.g. four-foot ot ten has no contrary. (Cat., 5, 3b27-32) 10) Otherness in species means to be contraries. (Met., I, 1058a17-20) 11) Contrariety is complete difference. Two things that have the same genus but are different in species are other than one another in the highest degree and their difference is complete, i.e. they cannot be present along with one another. (Met., I, 1058a10-16) 12) One of the contraries is a privation, which is a denial of a predicate to a determinate genus. (Met., Γ, 1011b18-20) 13) ‘Neither true judgments nor true propositions can be contrary the one to the other.’ (OI., II, 14, 24b6-7) B. Privation and possession Privation and possession are said in connection with the same thing in which the possession naturally occurs. Only that thing which is capable of receiving a possession and only when it is entirely absent from that which naturally has it and only at the time when it is natural for it to have it, is called to be deprived of it. (Cat., 10, 12a26-30) A thing is not called e.g. blind if it has never had or was not supposed to have sight. That privation and possession are not relatives is obvious from the fact that none is called just what it is, of its opposite. (Cat., 10, 12b16-21) Moreover, while relatives reciprocate, they do not. (Cat., 10, 12b21-25) That they are not contraries is explained by the classification of contraries to intermediable and non-intermediable contraries. The latter are different from privation and possession because it is necessary for one of such contraries to be predicated of absolutely everything while it is not the case about privation and possession because they are necessary only in things naturally capable of their predication. Intermediable contraries are different from privation and possession because while the former are not necessary the latter are necessary in their subject matters. (Cat., 13a3-17) Unlike contraries for each of which it is possible to change to the other, change in privation and possession is allowed only from possession to privation and not vice versa: neither a blind man gets sight nor a bald man regain his hair. (Cat., 13a18-36) C. Affirmation and negation Aristotle regards the reception of truth and falsity as the main difference affirmation and negation opposition has in respect of other three kinds of opposition: it is only affirmation and negation that it is always necessary for one of them to be true and the other to be false (Cat., 13a37-b26), no matter the subject of affirmation or negation exists or not. (Cat., 10, 13b27-35) ‘It is impossible that contradictory propositions should both be true of the same subject.’ (OI., II, 12, 21b17-18) It is evident both about relatives and those contraries that include no co-positing, e.g. health and sickness. The only cases that resemble affirmation and negation are those contraries that are said with co-positing, e.g. ‘Socrates is well’ and ‘Socrates is sick.’ Yet, Aristotle points, not even with these is it necessary always for one to be true and the other false because if Socrates does not exist, neither will be true. (Cat., 10, 13b12-19) This is true also about privation and possession: neither ‘Socrates has sight’ nor ‘Socrates is blind’ are true if he does not exist. Moreover, it is not necessary for one or the other of them to be true or false even if he exists because until the time when it is natural for Socrates to have sight, both are false. (Cat., 10, 13b20-26) . (shrink)

Contrary to nouns and verbs that either do not include a co-positing of parts, including nouns and some verbs, or if they are, their parts do not significate separately, a sentence (λόγος) is a ‘significant portion of speech by co-positing, its parts signify something separately, though not as a positive or negative judgment but as utterance.’ (OI ., I, 4, 16b26-28). Therefore, every utterance in language that i) includes parts, ii) its signification is based on the co-positing of its parts, (...) iii) each of its parts is separately significant but iv) the signification of its parts is the signification of an utterance and not a judgment, is a sentence. This definition distinguishes a sentence from: a) Nouns: because they do not have parts; b) Verbs: because they either do not have parts or if they have, their parts do not significate separately; c) Those co-positings of words whose significance is not based on their co-positing. Thus a co-positing like ‘wall tree house’ is not a sentence because it has no significance on the basis of its co-positing; d) Those co-positings that the signification of at least some of their parts is the signification of judgments. Thus, ‘Socrates is from Athens and is a philosopher’ is not a sentence because at least one of its parts, e.g. ‘Socrates is from Athens’ signifies a judgment. Those sentences that either of truth or falsity belongs to them are propositions (ἀπόφανσις or λόγος ἀπόφαντικὸς). (OI., I, 4, 17a2-3) It is this and only this kind of sentence that is the subject of study in philosophy. (OI., I, 4, 17a5-7) The primary forms of a proposition are, firstly, an affirmation (κατάφασις) and then a negation (ἀπόφασις). (OI., I, 4, 17a8-9) To have an affirmation or a denial and, thus, a proposition, what firstly is necessary is a verb or the tense of a verb (OI, I, 4, 17a9-12; I, 10, 19b12-13; OI, I, 4, 16b28-30) and a noun (OI, I, 10, 19b10-12). Aristotle draws a contrast between single and plural proposition: a) Single proposition: a proposition that ‘indicate a single fact, or the conjunction of the parts of which results in unity.’ (OI., I, 5, 17a15-16) b) Plural propositions: a proposition that ‘are separate and many in number, which indicate many facts, or whose parts have no conjunction.’ (OI., I, 5, 17a16-17) He also differentiates between simple and composite propositions (OI, I, 5, 17a20-22): a) Simple proposition: ‘that which asserts or denies something of something’; b) Composite propositions: ‘that which is compounded of simple propositions.’ A simple (ἁπλῆ) proposition is a statement about the belonging or not belonging of something (OI, I, 5, 17a22-24). Affirmation and denial are indeed kinds of simple proposition, one affirming the belonging and the other not belonging. An affirmation or denial may be single or non-single. A single affirmation or denial ‘signifies some one fact about some one subject. This singularity is destroyed neither by the universality of subject nor by the universal character of the statement. The only thing that destroys this singularity is that one part signifies more than one thing, which makes the proposition more than one proposition (OI, I, 8, 18a13-27). In other words, neither ‘predication of one thing of many subjects’ nor ‘many things of the same subject’ results in a unitary proposition. (OI., II, 11, 20b13-16) There is also another cause that might destroy the unity of predicate and thus the unity of proposition, namely when one of the parts of the predicate is implicit in the other. Thus, e.g. animal-man does not form a unity because the notion ‘animal’ is implicit in ‘man.’ (OI., II, 11, 21a16-18) The following are characteristics of propositions: 1. That about which an affirmation signifies something is a noun, whether definite or indefinite. (OI., I, 10, 19b5-12) Moreover, there can be no affirmation or denial without a verb. (OI., I, 10, 19b12-19) Therefore, a proposition must involve at least a noun and a verb. 2. Contrary propositions: since both belonging and not belonging of something to something is possible, we are able to make a negative proposition out of an affirmative one and vice versa. (OI., I, 5, 17a26-31) Therefore, ‘every affirmation has an opposite denial’ and vice versa. (OI., I, 6, 17a31-33) The contradictory of each proposition is made by changing the positivity or negativity of the verb ‘to be’ to its opposite but not by changing the subject to its opposite. Thus, the contradictory of ‘man is white’ is ‘man is not white’ and not ‘not-man is white.’ (OI., II, 11, 21a38-b5) What happens in the mentioned wrong form of contradictory propositions is that they change the subject while the denial must be the contrary of the affirmation about the same subject. (cf. OI., II, 14, 24b1-6) This is made plain in propositions involving a verb other than ‘to be’. What must be changed in these propositions is the verb and not the noun or the subject. Thus, the contradictory of ‘Socrates runs’ is ‘Socrates does not run’ and not ‘not-Socrates runs.’ 3. Conversion possible: ‘Out of conversion (μετατιθεμένου) of the name and the verb, the same affirmation and denial is generated. (OI., I, 10, 20b10-12) In other words, the two affirmations or denials ‘signify the same thing.’ (OI, I, 10, 20b1-2) . (shrink)

Aristotle’s analysis of language is, firstly, on the basis of co-positing and positing away: this is the starting point of analysis: what is asserted in language either involves a co-positing or does not (Cat. , 2, 1a16-17). Although he does not explain what he means by co-positing, we can see that he considers something like a sentence (his examples: man runs, man wins) and not merely a co-positing of two words like not-man, which he calls an indefinite noun (OI., 2, (...) 16a30-32). Aristotle and his contemporaries had no word for ‘word.’ The closest words for ‘word’ are ὄνομα and λόγος. ὄνομα is distinguished from ῥῆμα (verb) and, thus, cannot mean word. λόγος means a sentence or statement. Daniel W. Graham (Aristotle’s Two Systems, 1987, Oxford University Press, 38, fn.27) renders λεγομενον as ‘word.’ The problem with this suggestion is that, as Aristotle asserts in Categories, it is used both for single words and the composition of several words and even sentences. Aristotle distinguishes a noun from all the followings: a) A co-positing of words: noun is a word that is said without co-positing. (Cat., 2, 1a16-19) b) Inarticulate sounds: the sounds like those that brutes produce are not considered as nouns, though Aristotle believes that they are significant. (OI., 2, 16a28-29) c) Verbs: words that carry with them the notion of time. (OI., 2, 16b6-8) So far, a noun is a word said without co-positing, without the notion of time and distinguished from inarticulate sounds. What remains in language, however, is not necessarily a proper noun, though it is related with noun. What remain are different kinds of names: 1) Noun (ὄνομα) or definite noun: a sound that is significant by convention and of which no part is significant from the rest (OI., I, 1, 16a19-20) unless not having an independent meaning, the parts contribute to the meaning of the whole (OI., I, 1, 16a22-27). This latter condition is indeed a division made by Aristotle between two kinds of nouns: a. Simple nouns: a word in which the part is in no way significant. b. Composite nouns: a word in which though the part may be significant, i) it contribute to the meaning of the whole and ii) it does not have an independent meaning. 2) Indefinite noun: expressions like ‘not-man’ that i) have no recognized term by which denote the expression and ii) are not a sentence or denial by themselves (OI, 2, 16a28-29; 10, 19b8-10). 3) Cases of a noun. This is what used in languages like Greek language that have different cases. They show the senses that are asserted by other elements like prepositions in languages like English in a form or case of the name. Thus, e.g. Φίλωνος means ‘of Philo’ while Φίλωνι means ‘to Philo’. The cases of a noun have the same definition as the noun itself. However, they are not able to combine with any of the different tenses of the verb ‘is’ so that a true or false preposition results. (OI., 2, 16ab4-5). Aristotle thinks convention (συνθήκην) is the basis of the formation of nouns: ‘The limitation ‘by convention’ was introduced because nothing is by nature a noun- it is only so when it becomes a symbol.’ (OI., I, 1, 16a27-28) In Greek language, Francesco Ademollo notes (B508, 34), onoma has a close etymological connection with any transitive verb. Thus, it seems that an onoma is essentially ‘an expression that names or refers to something. It is strange that Aristotle does not distinguish proper from improper noun. We find no text in which Aristotle made such a distinction. In fact, it seems nouns are essentially improper for him: ‘A name, e.g. ‘round,’ means vaguely a sort of whole: its definition analyses this into its particular senses. Similarly, a child begins by calling all men ‘father’ and all women ‘mother’ but later on distinguishing each of them.’ (Phy., A, 1) Nouns necessarily are applicable to others: ‘If one were defining you, he would say ‘an animal which is lean’ or ‘white’ or something else which will apply to someone other than you.’ (Met., Z, 1040a12-14) -/- . (shrink)

Die Schrift Peri hermeneias (De interpretatione) nimmt unter den logischen Schriften des Aristoteles einen bedeutenden Platz ein, ist aber an vielen Stellen nicht leicht zu verstehen. Ziel der vorliegenden zweisprachigen Ausgabe ist es, sie dem Verständnis eines modernen Lesers, der sich für die Aristotelische Philosophie und für die Geschichte der Logik interessiert, durch erläuternde Anmerkungen zum Text neu zu erschließen.

Johannes Steuchius’ disputatio uses Arabic logic to present an historical account of the development of philosophical thought in Arabia before and after the emergence of Islam. Steuchius first proposes that philosophy drew its origins from the East. His evidence for this claim is that many of the Greek philosophers, considered the forefathers of European philosophy, began cultivating their philosophical thinking as a result of exposure to ancient Eastern philosophy. After the introduction of Greek philosophy, it is agreed that dialectic was (...) among the first of the arts the Arabs practiced. (shrink)

The dissemination of Tommaso Campanella’s thought in the seventeenth-century Dutch context was not only due to his concern with the war involving the Netherlands. His works, indeed, were referred to by scholars interested in establishing a new philosophy and natural history. Johannes De Raey and Paul Veezaerdt took up some of his perspectives on the history of Aristotelian philosophy, and dealt with the theological implications of his arguments.

The question of the relationship between ontology and theology, the main problem of the interpretation in volume 3, is also the guiding question of our last volume. The history of metaphysics is a history of the efforts towards an outlook on the world and life, which are about the meaning and connection of fundamental concepts: being, life, intellect, unity, truth, goodness. From these, the concept of divinity is derived. As in the previous volumes, a rich material of original texts and (...) interpretations is spread out. (shrink)

Though since Werner Jaeger's famous Studien zur Entstehungsgeschichte der Metaphysik des Aristoteles of 1912 remarkable observations were made, the topic "Composition of the Metaphysics" almost disappeared from the agenda. As, however, neglect of this philological task results in either selective reading or anachronistic systematization, the author has resumed it, extending it to the internal structure of the singular books.