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.

Aristotle is the first philosopher on record to subject the meaning of life to systematic philosophical examination: he approaches the issue from logical, psychological, biological, and anthropological perspectives in some of the central passages in the Corpus Aristotelicum and, it turns out, in some fragments from his (lost) early popular work the Protrepticus (Exhortation to Philosophy). From an Aristotelian perspective, in asking about life’s “meaning”, we may be asking either a theoretical question about the definition of the term (...) life (and this either generically or with specific reference to human life), or a practical question about the final end or purpose of life (or human life). Aristotle carefully considered both questions, and in his view answering the theoretical question is the key to answering the practical question. In brief, his theoretical view is that humans are distinguished from all other living things, and thus defined by their ability to use reason; thus his practical view is that the end or purpose of human existence is intellectual activity, especially doing philosophy. (shrink)

Some of Aristotle’s statements about the indemonstrability of the Principle of Non-Contradiction (PNC) in Metaphysics Γ 4 merit more attention. The consensus seems to be that Aristotle provides two arguments against the demonstrability of the PNC, with one located in Γ 3 and the other found in the first paragraph of Γ 4. In this article, I argue that Aristotle also relies upon a third argument for the same conclusion: the argument from truth. Although Aristotle does (...) not explicitly state this argument, it is the best argument that he could use to defend some of his statements in the second paragraph of Γ 4. Since the argument relies on only a few of Aristotle’s core views about truth, I propose that it is faithful to his considered position throughout his corpus, and it may be the strongest argument he could offer for the indemonstrability of the PNC. (shrink)

An appreciation of the "more philosophical" aspects of ancient medical writings casts considerable light on Aristotle's concept of nature, and how he understands nature to differ from art, on the one hand, and spontaneity or luck, on the other. The account of nature, and its comparison with art and spontaneity in Physics II is developed with continual reference to the medical art. The notion of spontaneous remission of disease (without the aid of the medical art) was a controversial subject (...) in the medical literature, and Aristotle's aporia about the notion of spontaneous generation of natural things runs parallel to this controversy. Aristotle's account of spontaneous generation in the Metaphysics and in the Generation of Animals can also be profitably illuminated by looking at the comparison with medicine in detail. The result, hopefully, is a clearer and more consistent picture not only of Aristotle's concepts of nature, art, and spontaneity, but also of the influence of medical writings and concepts on his natural philosophy. Joel Mann has written a commentary on the essay. (shrink)

For Aristotle, a verb (ῥῆμα) is that which a) besides a proper meaning b) carry with it the notion of time; c) its parts do not significate separately and d) is a sign of something said of something else (OI ., 2, 16b6-8). This comprehensive definition distinguishes verbs from both nouns (since they do not carry the notion of time with themselves) and sentences or co-positings of words (since they have parts with independent meanings). Based on this definition, a (...) verb signifies three things: i) A main or proper meaning which is the meaning of the verb, e.g. running or sleeping; ii) time and iii) co-positing (or positing away). Although it is not asserted that one part is responsible for prossignification of time, its responsibility is given to co-positing-is. This might seem to be in contradiction with (c). However, it seems that (c) cannot include prossignifications of time and co-positing. What Aristotle means in (c) is just that parts of a verb cannot separately signify a meaning. Therefore, it is better to distinguish between signification, which is about meaning and prossignification, which is generally about anything but meaning. Hence, while the parts of the verb cannot have separate signification, they can have separate prossignification. Aristotle distinguishes between different kinds of verbs: 1) Definite verbs: those verbs that have definite nouns as their verb-name. 2) Indefinite verbs: those verbs that do not have definite nouns as their verb-name (OI., I, 3, 16b12-14; 10, 19b10-11). Aristotle’s examples of an indefinite verb are ‘is not-healthy’ and ‘is not-ill’. 3) Tenses of verbs: ‘was healthy’ and ‘will be healthy’ are tenses of the verb ‘is healthy’ because a verb indicates only the present time (OI., I, 3, 16b16-18). For Aristotle, almost all verbs either are composed of or can be analyzed to parts. An example of the former is ‘is healthy’ and of the latter is ‘runs,’ which can be analyzed to two parts: ‘is running.’ (OI., I, 10, 20a3-5; II, 12, 21b5-8). Thus, for him a verb either includes or can be analyzed to two parts: a part that includes the meaning and is, or is shown, by a name we call ‘verb-name’ (a), and a part that includes the co-positing of that meaning with the subject of the verb, which is or is shown by ‘is’, which we call ‘co-positing-is’ (d). The verb ‘runs’, for example, can be analyzed to a verb-name, ‘running’ and a co-positing-is (Note: Aristotle distinguishes between the verb ‘is’ in the sense of ‘exists’ and the co-positing ‘is’. Whereas in the former ‘is’ is a verb, having a signification of its own, which is ‘existing’, besides signifying time (OI., I, 10, 19b12-19), the ‘is’ in the latter is not a verb (Aristotle calls it ‘incidental’ is (OI., II, 11, 21a25-28) and is not sure whether to call it a verb or a noun (OI., I, 10, 19b22-24)) because it does not signify existing and, thus, need something else to be added. This something else is the meaning we are discussing. Therefore, it is only after the addition of the meaning to this ‘is’ that we have a verb. This is, I believe, the sense of the so much controversial text of OI, I, 3, 16b22-25: ‘For being and not being signify the existence of a thing not τὸ ὄν εἴπῃς αὐτὸ καθ᾿ ἑαυτὸ ψιλόν. For it does not indicate anything but prossignifies some co-positing (σύνθεσίν). Aristotle’s words at 16b24 about co-positing-is that it ‘prossignifies some co-positing’ (προσσημαίνει δὲ σύνθεσίν τινα) is an explicit evidence that she cannot be right.) and is not a concept apart from the things co-posited (συγκειμένων).’ This text, however, is so controversial. Originating from Ammonius and Boethius after him, who used the verb ‘copular’ for ‘est’ and Abelard, some commentators like Weidemann, Oehler, Francisco Ademollo take ‘is’ as having a copulative function. Allen Bāck notes that Aristotle does not separate off ‘is’ from other verbs as a mere copula but takes it ‘as the basic, paradigmatic form of the verb.’ He believes that in his interpretation of Aristotle (in: OI., 55, 19-24) Ammonius also took it as the paradigm for all verbs. Francisco Ademollo criticizes the standard view of taking ‘is’ as copula here and is inclined to take it as essential. David Ross thinks that although Aristotle is aware of the distinction between the existential and the copulative is, he has as yet no very clear idea of their relation. Although Jonathan Barnes agrees that the copula is surely present in de Interpretation, he thinks that at 16b22-25 Aristotle ought to be talking of existential εἶναι. Marie De Rijk Lambartus believes that there is no copula in Aristotle’s philosophical analysis of the elementary sentences and it is a mere corpus alienum in Aristotle’s semantics. Allan Bȃck believes that the copulative theory is not Aristotle’s and ‘may have come to dominate as a result of the neoPlatonizing interpretations of Aristotle’s works by Proclus, Ammonius and Boethius, which is the sign of the relation of running with a subject, e.g. Socrates in ‘Socrates runs’. Nonetheless, none of these parts significate separately. This is supposed to mean that a verb is a single signification. However, it is evident that each of the parts can signify if we use them in a different context as both of ‘running’ and ‘is’ in ‘runs’ or both of ‘is’ and ‘healthy’ in ‘is healthy’ can do. It might seem now that the first mentioned definition of verb might be contradictory. While Aristotle asserts that the parts of verb do not signify separately (d), he considers two other significations for a verb: the signification of time and relation. As it is obvious, both of these significations are done by one part of the verb, that is the co-positing-is. Therefore, in a verb e.g. ‘is healthy’ we have three significations: the significations of meaning, time and co-positing. Aristotle uses prossignification both for time (προσσημαῖνον χρόνον, OI., 2, 16b4) and co-positing (προσσημαίνει δἑ σύνθεσὶν τινα, OI, I, 3, 16b23-24). Since the copula part of a verb has no signification and does not form any conception, a verb is indeed its verb-name. Thus we see Aristotle saying that ‘verbs are in and by themselves names and signify something’ and like names, he adds, they arrest the hearer’s mind and fix his attention (OI., I, 3, 16b19-22). We can conclude then that verbs are names said of something else and carrying time. In other words, verbs are words that though have one single signification, as names have, they also have two other prossignifications: time and relation. (shrink)

How many scientific demonstrations can a single phenomenon have? This paper argues that, according to Aristotle's theory of scientific knowledge as laid out in the Posterior Analytics, a single conclusion may be demonstrated via more than one explanatory middle term. I also argue that this model of multiple demonstration is put into practice in the biological writings. This paper thereby accomplishes two related goals: it clarifies certain relatively obscure passages of the Posterior Analytics and uses them to show how (...) Aristotle explains biological phenomena by reference to both final and material causes in the Parts of Animals. The first part of the paper explains the account of multiple demonstration present in the Posterior Analytics and distinguishes it from another kind of plural explanation rejected by Aristotle. The second part of the paper turns to the biological explanation in the Parts of Animals and shows how Aristotle's account of multiple demonstrations works in practice. The paper thus provides evidence for the claim that the ‘applied’ reasoning on display in the biological works is in harmony with the framework of the logical treatises, and thus may also shed light on questions of the unity of the Aristotelian corpus. (shrink)

I lay out and examine two sharply conflicting interpretations of Aristotle's claims about nous in the De Anima (DA). On the human separability approach, Aristotle is taken to have identified reasons for thinking that the intellect can, in some way, exist on its own. On the naturalist approach, the soul, including intellectual soul, is inseparable from the body of which it is the form. I discuss how proponents of each approach deal with the key texts from the DA, (...) focusing on four of the most important and interesting topics in this area. Two of these topics concern the activity of understanding (noêsis): first, what does Aristotle mean when he claims that the intellect cannot have a bodily organ and, secondly, what role does Aristotle think phantasmata (“images” or “representations”) play in understanding something? Two of the topics concern DA 3.5, one of the most difficult passages in Aristotle's corpus: first, what is the nature and role of the productive intellect (nous poiêtikos) introduced there and, secondly, what are this chapter's implications for the question of whether the intellect or intellectual soul can exist apart from the body? I conclude by identifying areas where further research is necessary. (shrink)

According to a generally held impression, which has coalesced out of centuries of misinterpretation occasioned mostly by misguided charitable commentary, but often by outright hostility to his followers (and occasionally deliberate misrepresentation of his ideas), Aristotle is a teleological (as opposed to “mechanistic”) philosopher, responsible for a “qualitative” (as opposed to quantitative) approach to physics that is thereby inadequately mathematical, whose metaphysical speculations, as absorbing as they continue to be even for contemporary and otherwise ahistorical analytical metaphysicians, are essentially (...) devoid of the virtues that determine the success of our modern sciences, which are in fact the result of overthrowing Aristotelian views. Jean De Groot’s monograph Aristotle’s Empiricism: experience and mechanics in the 4th century BC should completely wipe away that impression, as she offers an extremely attractive interpretation of Aristotle and his methods to replace it. This is a groundbreaking and exciting work, brimming with insights won from close and careful readings of both well-known and obscure passages of the Aristotle Corpus. It is an instant classic of Aristotle studies that should not only change the image of Aristotle’s role in the history of science but also set the agenda for much of the future research in every area of his theoretical sciences, including metaphysics, mathematics, and natural science. Thus although my primary goal in this review is to summarize its contents and try to give an idea of the richness, depth, and breadth of de Groot’s project, I will mention at the end what I think are the most important ways that the research should be developed and extended—the next areas of Aristotle studies that should incorporate these views and methods. (shrink)

Kant claims that Aristotles logic as complete, explain the historical and philosophical considerations that commit him to proving the completeness claim and sketch the proof based on materials from his logic corpus. The proof will turn out to be an integral part of Kant’s larger reform of formal logic in response to a foundational crisis facing it.

David Furley's work on the cosmologies of classical antiquity is structured around what he calls "two pictures of the world." The first picture, defended by both Plato and Aristotle, portrays the universe, or all that there is (to pan), as identical with our particular ordered world-system. Thus, the adherents of this view claim that the universe is finite and unique. The second system, defended by Leucippus and Democritus, portrays an infinite universe within which our particular kosmos is only one (...) of countless kosmoi. Aristotle's argument in De caelo I.9 that the world is necessarily unique is an important contribution to this debate. This argument holds interest because it shows Aristotle wrestling with an apparent inconsistency in his own philosophy, as deeply-held convictions within his cosmology collide with an equally deeply-held conviction within his metaphysics. The following three principles, each of which Aristotle appears committed to, are inconsistent: -/- The cosmic uniqueness principle. The world is necessarily unique. The cosmic form principle. The world is an ordered, structured unity. As such, the world has a form. The possibility of multiple instantiation principle. For all F, if F is a form, it is possible that there exist multiple Fs. In De caelo I.9, Aristotle argues that we can establish the uniqueness of the universe, reject the multiple instantiation principle, yet still retain the distinction between 'this world' and 'world in general,' if the following is true (as it is): the world takes up all the matter that exists. Aristotle illustrates this argument with one of the stranger analogies in his corpus: imagine an aquiline nose that takes up all the flesh in the universe. If this were so, then there could not exist any other aquiline objects whatsoever. (For this reason, we dub the De caelo I.9 argument the 'Cosmic Nose argument.') This paper is an interpretation of how this argument is supposed to proceed and an assessment of its success. The first section states the problem Aristotle is confronted with, sorts through Aristotle's various statements of the Cosmic Nose argument, which exhibit some sloppiness, and reconstructs charitably a single argument. We also spend some time examining the significance of Aristotle's example of a gigantic aquiline nose. We argue that, even charitably reconstructed, the argument appears to commit a serious modal fallacy. The remainder of the paper explores whether this modal fallacy can be overcome. We conclude that, although not a cogent argument for the uniqueness of the world (as this would require a significant revision of our current astronomy), the Cosmic Nose argument does succeed on its own terms. However, it should not be regarded as a free-standing argument for the uniqueness of the world. Instead, it depends crucially on the earlier argument in De caelo I.8 for the universe's uniqueness; De caelo I.9 should be viewed as an attempt to extend the conclusion of De caelo I.8 and to show how this conclusion can be made consistent with Aristotle's metaphysical principles about the nature of form. (shrink)

In anticipation of updating annotated bibliographies on Aristotle’s Ethics and Politics for Oxford Bibliography Online, I have sought to keep a running tabulation of all books, edited collections, translations, and journal articles which are primarily devoted to Aristotle’s ethical and political writings (including their historical reception but excluding neo–Aristotelian virtue ethics). In general, criteria for inclusion in this bibliography are that the work be: (1) publication in a peer–reviewed or academic/university press between 2011–2020; (2) “substantially” devoted to one (...) of Aristotle’s ethical or political works (e.g., Pol, EN, EE, MM, Athenian Constitution, Protrepticus); and/or (3) devoted to ethical or political concepts examined elsewhere in Aristotle’s corpus (e.g., Rhetoric, Poetics, zoological treatises, etc.). I encourage scholars to alert me about published works that I have omitted or listed incorrectly. (shrink)

This dissertation is a collection of essays exploring the role of metaphor in Aristotle’s scientific method. Aristotle often appeals to metaphors in his scientific practice; but in the Posterior Analytics, he suggests that their use is inimical to science. Why, then, does he use them in natural science? And what does his use of metaphor in science reveal about the nature of his scientific investigations? I approach these questions by investigating the epistemic status of metaphor in Aristotelian science. (...) In the first essay, I defend an interpretation of metaphor as a type of heuristic reasoning: I claim that Aristotle uses metaphor to express conditions an explanation in natural science must meet if it is to explain regular, ordered change. These conditions specify the kinds of causes—particularly unmoved efficient causes—which the inquirer into nature is seeking. In the second essay, I look to Aristotle’s use of certain endoxa or common beliefs as explanatory principles in science, and show that his use of these principles is similar to his use of metaphor. In the final essay, I present a historical study of the analogy of art and nature, and I suggest that by looking to how the Greeks understood the role of inquiry in the arts, we can shed some light on Aristotle’s views concerning the method of inquiry he thinks the natural scientist should adopt. (shrink)

In this article, I present an interpretation of Aristotle’s thought regarding the normative value of friendship duties.The argument is divided in VII sections. In Section I, I provide brief summaries of the main arguments defended by me in a previous article about the normative consequences of virtue and utility friendships in Aristotle, the objectives that are to be defended in this article and of the conclusions that I take them to support. In section II, I offer an interpretation (...) of Aristotle’s thought regarding the normative value of friendship duties in cases where there is no practical conflict between friendship duties. In section III, I outline Aristotle’s theory about how we should deal with cases where there is such practical conflict. In the next sections, I analyze three other passages of the Aristotelian corpus where we have good reason to think that this kind of conflict appears, namely, NE, III 1, 1110a20-29 (IV), Pol., III 10, 1286b23-28 (V) and Pol., VII 9, 1330a9-25 (VI), in order to flesh out the outline presented in section III. In section VII I conclude with a summary of the argument. (shrink)

The opening words of the second book of Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics are as familiar as any in his corpus: Excellence of character results from habituation [ethos]—which is in fact the source of the name it has acquired [êthikê], the word for ‘character-trait’ [êthos] being a slight variation of that for ‘habituation’ [ethos]. This makes it quite clear that none of the excellences of character [êthikê aretê] comes about in us by nature; for no natural way of being is (...) changed through habituation [ethizetai]. Equally familiar, unfortunately, is the characterization of Aristotle’s notion of character formation as a form of habituation by means of the repetition of actions which results in a “habit” in the same way that a weight lifter produces muscles through the repetition of exertions. As a 19th century commentator remarked on the passage above, “[insert Grant].” From a Socratic perspective, such a view of becoming good seems hopelessly rigid and unconnected to the intellectual development which knowledge of the good requires. Habit and habituation in Aristotle seem eminently familiar and eminently unphilosophical. Such a view would be mistaken on at least three counts. First, the notion of character formation (to use the broadest possible term for the phenomenon of habituation) in Aristotle is significantly more complicated than the notion that through habituation one develops good habits which are what we mean by ethical virtue. Although character formation includes the development of proper emotional responses, such as taking pleasure in what is fine and being repulsed by what is shameful, it is equally concerned with cognitive development independent of the intellectual virtues. Second, although Aristotle’s terms for “ethics” (êthica), character-trait (êthos), and habituation (ethos, ethismos, or ethizetai) are linguistically and conceptually interrelated, his notion of “ethical state” (hexis) is both linguistically and conceptually quite distinct from the notion of “habit,” at least as we use that term today. As one Aristotle translator has put it, “A hexis is not only not the same thing as a habit, but is almost exactly its opposite.” For Aristotle, a hexis is a dynamic equilibrium which, although always productive of virtuous actions, is nonetheless the basis for being virtuous in varied circumstances. Thirdly, once Aristotle’s notion of a character state is retrieved from its false association with “habit” and repetitive habituation, one sees that its apparent divorce from practical reason is more a fixture of Aristotle’s analytical method and its connotations of inflexibility or fixedness are in fact antithetical to Aristotle’s description of ethical virtue. Rather than view ethical “character” in its Greek etymological sense as an indelibly fixed or engraved mark or stamp (charactêr) upon one’s soul, Aristotle’s notion of ethical character (êthos) or virtue (aretê) captures the notion of a virtuoso who is responsive in an excellent fashion to what reason perceives in particular and changing circumstances. (shrink)

Two arguments in Eudemian Ethics 2 that are crucial to Aristotle’s definition of moral virtue as a mean state contain claims that Aristotle says are clear by induction. In these contexts, he explicitly appeals to examples coming from arts and sciences like gymnastic training and medicine for evidence. But Aristotle does not here, or elsewhere (at least in any extant work), including the parallel arguments in the Nicomachean Ethics, actually supply or discuss the evidence that makes these (...) inductive arguments clear. Fortunately, strong support for them can be found in the Hippocratic Corpus, especially in On Ancient Medicine and On Regimen. (shrink)

This study of Greek time before Aristotle’s philosophy starts with a commentary on his first text, the Protrepticus. We shall see two distinct forms of time emerge: one initiatory, circular and Platonic in inspiration, the other its diametrical opposite, advanced by Aristotle. We shall explore this dichotomy through a return to poetic conceptions. The Tragedians will give us an initial outline of the notion of time in the Greek world (Fate); we shall then turn to Homer in order (...) to better grasp the complex relations between time and the religious sphere (the Hero); the work of the great theologian Hesiod will confirm this initiatory vision, later set out in remarkable fashion by Nietzsche (Myths); we shall then dive deep into Pythagoreanism to complete our account (Mysteries). Having understood this current of thought, powerfully influenced by the Iranian theogony, we shall be able to discern its clear differences from the so-called “Ionian” current, and thus to move away from Plato (Ideology). Lastly, we shall return to the early Ionian thinkers Thales and Anaximander to analyse whether this really was the vision of the world that Aristotle adopted in developing the first model of time (Science). In the second volume we shall see the return of the thought of the theologoi within the Aristotelian corpus itself, and will question our distinction between the being and existence of time. Régis Laurent is a philosopher and member of the association Kairos Kai logos (Centre for the study of ancient philosophy). This book is the first part of his doctoral thesis in philosophy, undertaken under the aegis of three French universities (Grenoble, Clermont-Ferrand and Rennes). In addition to his philosophical training, the author is also qualified to Masters level in linguistics and in general psychology, and studied theology at the Thomist University in Paris (ULSH) and at the CEJ of the EHESS. (shrink)

The aim of this study is to illustrate the role played by Augustine’s Commentary on the Genesis in the writings of Thomas Aquinas. This work is of great importance for Aquinas, not only because it is the work where Augustine clarifies his interpretation of creation, but also because creation is, among the theological topics, perhaps the most philosophical, insofar as it gives the opportunity of elaborating on many philosophical issues. In particular, the goal of the study is to rethink the (...) positions of Aquinas and Augustine on one of these issues, that is the relationship between soul and body. I mean to call into question two historiographical theses: first, that Augustine and Aquinas formulate positions that are irreconcilable with each other, and second, that they in no way address that which we today call the Mind-Body Problem. (shrink)

Few ideas are more central to Aristotle’s thought than that of the causal purposiveness of natural things. Few ideas in the Aristotelian corpus are more controverted—whether historically, by early modern natural philosophers seeking to break with Aristotelian science or currently, by modern scholars of ancient philosophy seeking to interpret Aristotle’s physics—than what has come to be called Aristotle’s “teleology” (a term coined in the 18th century, apparently by the German philosopher Christian Wolff). In this ambitious study (...) (derived from the author’s 2003 doctoral dissertation at the University of Toronto), Monte Johnson [J.] aims at two goals: to determine both how Aristotle uses the notions of “ends” or purposes in his natural philosophy and what are the limits to Aristotle’s teleological explanations. (shrink)

The image of a copy of Praxiteles’ Aphrodite—nude but demurely shielding her pubic region—which adorns the dust cover of Pearson’s superb monograph, Aristotle on Desire</i>), suggests to the casual book buyer that the volume encased therein will explain Aristotle’s thoughts about sexual desire—perhaps as a central part or the paradigm case of his general theory of desire. But the goddess likes being tricky: Aristotle has very little to say about sexual desire (at best it is a subcategory (...) of <i>epithumia</i>, set alongside the desires for eating and drinking and reduced to tactile stimulation), and it is not immediately apparent that he possesses a general theory or account of desire. No doubt, Aristotle discusses many aspects of <i>orexis</i> (Aristotle’s general term for desire) in relationship to human action, in his consideration of the rhetorical manipulation of the emotions, and in his examination of animate motion. But as Pearson notes, neither in Aristotle’s catalog of writings nor in his surviving works is there an Aristotelian <i>peri orexeôs</i>. Pearson’s monograph, which is the “distant descendant” of a Ph.D. completed at Cambridge in 2004, thus is an exercise in detective work which combs through Aristotle’s discussions of desire throughout the corpus (albeit with focus on the ethical treatises, the <i>Rhetoric</i>, and <i>De Anima</i>) in order to reconstruct what a general theory of desire would look like for Aristotle. Pearson does a masterful job at drawing together into a coherent whole many of Aristotle’s scattered remarks about the different aspects of desire and provides a model for textual analysis of philosophically abstruse passages. Along the way, he overturns a number of scholarly orthodoxies (for instance, that Aristotle’s account of <i>thumos</i> retains elements of Platonic <i>thumos</i> or “spiritedness” or that <i>thumos</i> has a unique relationship to the <i>kalon</i> or what is fine) and situates Aristotle’s theory amidst contemporary philosophers of desire such as Thomas Nagle, Thomas Scanlon, and G.F. Schuler. The result is a landmark work of scholarship that scholars working on Aristotle’s moral psychology will need to engage and argue with. Whether the work warrants the adornment of Aphrodite is a question to which I will return in my conclusion. (shrink)

The revised and polished version of Inwood’s 2011 Carl Newell Jackson at Harvard University, Ethics after Aristotle surveys the ethical teachings of the original “neo-Aristotelians,” namely those self-identified (although not always named) members of the Peripatetic school from the time of Theophrastus (fl. 300 BCE) until that of Alexander of Aphrodisias (fl. 200 CE). An initial chapter surveys the sorts of problems in Aristotle’s ethical corpus which would generate subsequent debate amongst members of the Peripatetic school. Chapter (...) Two examines the views of “Magnus,” the name which Inwood gives to the anonymous 3rd century author of the Magna Moralia (which Inwood takes to be pseudo-Aristotle), and those of Strato of Lampsacus, Lycon, and Hieronymus, 3rd century heads of the Peripatetic school, all of whom show the influences of Epicureanism in their re-articulations of Aristotelian positions. Chapter Three, entitled “The Turning Point,” finds in the work of Critolaus—head of the Peripatetic school in the middle of the 2nd century BCE—a move away from the centrality of activity within Aristotelian ethical thought, which Critolaus instead replaces with the notion of possessing specific goods, namely those of the body, the soul, and what is external. The same chapter argues that at approximately the same historical point Cicero, in the character of Piso in De finibus, articulated an account of Peripatetic ethics that was far more faithful to 4th century Aristotelianism. The final two chapters focus on neo-Aristotelian ethical philosophizing within a new and explicitly Roman cultural setting. (shrink)

Any modern reader of Aristotle’s Politics confronts the question of what a treatise on 4th century BCE political institutions can say to a contemporary audience. Some authors, confronted with such a question, choose to examine Aristotle’s Politics as a work in the history of political philosophy or classics worthy of careful study because of its place in the Aristotelian corpus, because of the light it sheds on ancient Greek history and political institutions, or because of its relation (...) to other works in the history of political thought. Alternatively, other authors examine the Politics as a work which can shed light on contemporary political problems precisely because Aristotle’s pre-modern perspective provides a useful contrast to modern assumptions about concepts like law, rights, or the relationship between a citizen and a political communities. Both approaches to the Politics—the first, which emphasizes philological and exegetical understanding of the arguments and context of the work, and the second, which seeks to philosophize with Aristotle’s aid—are legitimate and respected approaches to the text. But insofar as the two different approaches have different goals—the former seeks to understand Aristotle’s text in all its historical and exegetical details, the later seeks to derive Aristotelian philosophical insights relevant to contemporary debates—evaluating the success of a study of the Politics requires measuring it against the appropriate aim. (shrink)

Flannery’s volume looks in two directions. On the one hand, as Flannery announces in the book’s introduction, the chapters in the volume were intended to shed light on three specific ‘background’ issues in contemporary ethics and the interpretation of Thomas Aquinas, namely, Aquinas’ notion of ethical theory (as articulated especially in Summa Theologica 1-2.6-21), the ramifications of physical actions on moral evaluation in contemporary ethics (for instance, whether the fact that an abortion consists specifically in the crushing of a fetus’ (...) skull rather than some other form of terminating the fetus has moral relevance), and the understanding of Aquinas’ ‘principle of double effect’ (Summa Theologica 2-2.64.7). On the other hand, the eight chapters (and two appendices) are all devoted to the exegesis of passages in Aristotle’s corpus (primarily the ethical treatises, but with substantial discussions of passages from the Prior Analytics, the Physics, and the Metaphysics insofar as they shed light on passages in the eth-ical corpus). Although the exegetical chapters are motivated by contemporary and Thomistic background issues, the exegesis appears entirely grounded in Aristotle’s (rather than Aristotelian) texts. (shrink)

Action, Contemplation, and Happiness (hereafter ACH) is a magisterial expo­sition of both central and obscure texts from throughout Aristotle's writings that aims to elucidate the terms in its title by showing their foundations in Aristotle's natural and metaphysical writings. Reeve assembles supportive texts from throughout the corpus in support of an interpretive holism, viz., one in which the various interpretations of a text are narrowed by drawing upon other texts in the corpus that shed light on (...) the passage. Although holism is not necessarily incon­sistent with developmental readings of Aristotle, Reeve at least initially claims that the texts he is concerned with provide little evidence of development. Reeve's current volume draws upon his previous books, Substantial Knowledge (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2000), a holistic study of the problem of primary sub­stance in the Metaphysics, and his Practices of Reason (Oxford: Clarendon Uni­versity Press, 1992), a study of the epistemological bases of happiness 'in the Nicomachean Ethics. (shrink)

_ Source: _Volume 63, Issue 1, pp 64 - 86 Five times in the extant corpus, Aristotle refers to a distinction between two ways of being a ‘that for the sake of which’ that he sometimes marks by using genitive and dative pronouns. Commentators almost universally say that this is the distinction between an aim and beneficiary. I propose that Aristotle had a quite different distinction in mind, namely: that which holds between something and the aim or (...) objective it is in the business of producing or achieving, and that which holds between some instrument and the user of that instrument. (shrink)

La distinción entre acto y movimiento que enuncia Aristóteles en Metafísica IX 6, 1048b18–35, ha causado una gran polémica entre los intérpretes aristotélicos contemporáneos. En este artículo defendemos que la distinción no está en conflicto con el resto del libro IX, ni con el Corpus Aristotelicum en general. De hecho, aparece también en ética a Nicómaco X 4 y De Anima III 7. Además, sin esta distinción no sería posible entender la inmovilidad del primer motor defendida en Metafísica XII, (...) puesto que allí se afirma que este motor es vida y que su actividad es placer y pensamiento. -/- Palabras clave: acto, movimiento, pasaje, actividad, metafísica -/- The distinction between act and movement stated in Metaphysics IX 6, 1048b18–35, has been the subject of a major controversy among contemporary interpreters. In this article I defend that the distinction does not conflict with the rest of book IX, nor with the Corpus Aristotelicum in general. Indeed, the distinction also appears in Nicomachean Ethics X 4 and in De Anima III 7. Furthermore, without this distinction the immobility of the first mover defended in Metaphysics XII would be unintelligible, since Aristotle says that the first mover is life, and that his activity is pleasure and thinking. -/- Key words: act, movement, passage, activity, metaphysics. (shrink)

Even though Aristotle speaks often about language, his remarks do not fall within the province of any given discipline, let alone belong to the same subject matter or amount to a πραγματεία of their own. Rather, they are somewhat scattered across the Aristotelian corpus and are to be gleaned from a vast array of texts, including ethical and political writings (where language plays a remarkable role in shaping human sociability), treatises on natural history (where Aristotle outlines the (...) physiology of phonation in some animals such as birds and human beings), books on the soul (where Aristotle describes how language is intertwined with perception, imagination and thought) and works on dialectics, poetics and rhetoric (where linguistic expression is described as a powerful means of both persuasion and deception). Accordingly, «Le langage. Lectures d’Aristote» elects to study Aristotle’s understanding of language and its workings by asking relevant Aristotelian texts only those questions these texts answer – either by themselves or in conjunction with one another. -/- Quelque nombreuses et quelque influentes qu'elles soient par ailleurs, les vues d'Aristote sur le langage se caractérisent à la fois par leur hétérogénéité et par leur marginalité. Sans faire nulle part du langage et de la signification l'objet d'une investigation autonome et méthodique, Aristote multiplie les remarques et les digressions à leur sujet, que ce soit dans ses écrits d'éthique et de politique ou dans ses traités d'histoire et de philosophie naturelle, ou encore dans ses manuels de dialectique, de poétique et de rhétorique. Face à l'abondance de ces matériaux et aux difficultés qu'ils présentent du fait de s'offrir au lecteur en ordre quelque peu dispersé, «Le langage. Lectures d'Aristote» fait le choix d'indexer l'étude du langage chez Aristote sur des passages précis du corpus en ne posant aux textes aristotéliciens d'intérêt linguistique que les questions auxquelles ces mêmes textes - tantôt pris isolément, tantôt mis en relation les uns avec les autres - apportent une réponse. (shrink)

Relying on evidence from fifteen epigraphic collections and sixty-odd ancient sources as well as discussing a literature of over five hundred titles, the essay’s highly unorthodox conclusions are a case in point of the micrological ideal of achieving novelty on any given subject by way of transcribing and studying first-hand all relevant materials – edited and unedited alike. The paper’s ambition was to shed new light on one of the most intriguing analogies of the whole Aristotelian corpus, namely the (...) comparison between words and pebbles. A review of all material evidence and virtually all extant sources made short work of two related, albeit mutually exclusive, misconception about ancient reckoning boards and their workings: (1) the idea that – for all practical purposes – the abacus’ arrangement mirrored the decimal system, its columns and rows conveniently matching units, tens, hundreds, thousands, etc. (2) the idea that the inscriptions on several surviving counting boards were a nuisance to the extent that, being inconsistent to a fault with the decimal system itself, they made actual calculations harder than they already were (as opposed to making them easier, as one would expect). The paper demonstrated that the first assumption – the « decimal » bias – is simply mistaken and betrays little or no awareness of the epigraphic and archaeological evidence. The paper also demonstrated that the second assumption – the « abacus riddled with complications » bias – simply defeats the purpose of resorting to the abacus in the first place and betrays a poor understanding of its practical vocation which, most assuredly, was not to add to the very problem it was meant to solve. After bulldozing its way through both misunderstandings, the essay focused on the abacus most distinctive features, that is positionality (i.e. the abacus being a positional system through and through) and hybridity (i.e. the abacus’ place value system being monetary in nature and purpose, as opposed to it being abstract and homogeneous). The final result is an interpretation that moves away from the received views by showing that the prologue of the Sophistici elenchi offers no support to the notion that, when Aristotle referred to counters, he was leaning on a kinship of sorts – or any kinship, for that matter – between abstract calculation and speech. Once we turns the pebble’s simile on its head and set it back upon its feet (Aristotle’s pebble analogy is about pebbles, what else?), it becomes clear that it presupposed numeracy all right, but it was not about numeracy itself. Moreover its goal was not to explain why computational and linguistic symbolisms succeed, but to explain how they fail – failure being the whole point; in this particular instance, failure to detect and prevent abusive value shifts affecting words and counters alike. (shrink)

The search for an agreement between Aristotle’s and Descartes’ philosophy was aimed at making Cartesian physics acceptable in the Dutch universities by showing its consistency with Aristotelian thought. Their agreement is defended by Johannes De Raey in the Clavis philosophiae naturalis (1654), where he interprets the Corpus Aristotelicum from a Cartesian standpoint. Those Aristotelian positions which are inconsistent with Descartes’ are treated as erroneous. The Scholastic positions, moreover, are considered as distant from the true Aristotelian philosophy rediscovered by (...) Descartes. (shrink)

The Contribution of Byzantine Scholars to Renaissance Aristotelianism It is widely known that the Byzantine scholars who fled to Italy during the fifteenth century contributed to Renaissance philosophy. They brought with them manuscripts and produced editions and translations of Greek philosophical texts. Despite the common view that their works were seminal for the development of Renaissance Platonism, a closer examination of the texts and their activity proves that they were mainly interested in Aristotelian philosophy. The vast majority of them did (...) not support Renaissance Platonism. On the contrary they defended both the Scholastic and Byzantine Aristotelianism. I argue that their stance was not the outcome of dogmatic reasons; in other words, a projection of the heated debate between Hesychasm and Thomism in late Byzantium. Rather, they realized that the Latin philosophical community actually ignored the rich commentary tradition of Late Antiquity, which had reinterpreted the Aristotelian corpus. As a result they offered to the Latin audience a different Aristotle, capable of overcoming the predominant Scholastic one, which was heavily attached to Averroism. (shrink)

This paper is about the history of a question in ancient Greek philosophy and medicine: what holds the parts of a whole together? The idea that there is a single cause responsible for cohesion is usually associated with the Stoics. They refer to it as the synectic cause (αἴτιον συνεκτικόν), a term variously translated as ‘cohesive cause,’ ‘containing cause’ or ‘sustaining cause.’ The Stoics, however, are neither the first nor the only thinkers to raise this question or to propose a (...) single answer. Many earlier thinkers offer their own candidates for what actively binds parts together, with differing implications not only for why we are wholes rather than heaps, but also why our bodies inevitably become diseased and fall apart. This paper assembles, up to the time of the Stoics, one part of the history of such a cause: what is called ‘the synechon’ (τὸ συνέχον) – that which holds things together. Starting with our earliest evidence from Anaximenes (sixth century BCE), the paper looks at different candidates and especially the models and metaphors for thinking about causes of cohesion which were proposed by different philosophers and doctors including Empedocles, early Greek doctors, Diogenes of Apollonia, Plato and Aristotle. My goal is to explore why these candidates and models were proposed and how later philosophical objections to them led to changes in how causes of cohesion were understood. (shrink)

Quelque nombreuses et quelque influentes qu'elles soient par ailleurs, les vues d'Aristote sur le langage se caractérisent à la fois par leur hétérogénéité et par leur marginalité. Sans faire nulle part du langage et de la signification l'objet d'une investigation autonome et méthodique, Aristote multiplie les remarques et les digressions à leur sujet, que ce soit dans ses écrits d'éthique et de politique ou dans ses traités d'histoire et de philosophie naturelle, ou encore dans ses manuels de dialectique, de poétique (...) et de rhétorique. Face à l'abondance de ces matériaux et aux difficultés qu'ils présentent du fait de s'offrir au lecteur en ordre quelque peu dispersé, «Le langage. Lectures d'Aristote» fait le choix d'indexer l'étude du langage chez Aristote sur des passages précis du corpus en ne posant aux textes aristotéliciens d'intérêt linguistique que les questions auxquelles ces mêmes textes - tantôt pris isolément, tantôt mis en relation les uns avec les autres - apportent une réponse. (shrink)

Plato is commonly considered a metaphysical dualist conceiving of a world of Forms separate from the world of particulars in which we live. This paper explores the motivation for postulating that second world as opposed to making do with the one we have. The main objective is to demonstrate that and how everything, Forms and all, can instead fit into the same world. The approach is exploratory, as there can be no proof in the standard sense. The debate between explaining (...) Plato’s ontology with a single world and requiring a two-world model to make sense of the same thing is typically about scouring the Platonic corpus for evidence and turning to Aristotle for help where we need it. The aim here is to dig deeper than what either of them, or anyone else, has said or implied about the number or worlds, searching instead for any insight that might be gained from the way Forms are supposed to exist versus what we ourselves might understand by existence. Although the paper is, at its most basic level, about the existence of the Forms, the intention is not to prove that they exist, nor to evaluate the proofs and objections already on record, but to consider how they might exist and what follows if they do. Dialogue toward consensus on why we think the Forms exist, and why we think they do not, could perhaps provide a smoother “second sailing” in waters where we have been unable to agree whether they do and where they would if they did. (shrink)

>e paper studies the discussion about human good in Eudemian Ethics I.7. It is particularly concerned with the existence, in the text, of two characteristics of the human good: its peculiarity, on the one hand, which consists not only in the quali- (cation ‘human’ (anthropinon), but also in the assignment of this good to the domain of action (the activity that distinguishes humans from other beings), and, on the other hand, the fact that it belongs to a spectrum containing the (...) goods of other beings, like god and the remaining living beings. Divinity works as the standard for the distinction between eudaimonic goods – belonging to beings whose nature implies participation in the divine (humans, for example) – and non-eudaimonic goods that belong to those beings deprived of such participation. Resorting to other passages from the Eudemian Ethics, as well as other texts from the corpus, the paper defends that the two characteristics of the human good presented in EE I.7 foreshadow an important di?erence between the two Aristotelian treatises on eudaimonia: whereas the Nicomachean Ethics emphasizes contemplation as the activity through which humans participate in the divine, the Eudemian Ethics stresses virtuous actions as a human activity related to the divine. (shrink)

In this essay, we consider the formal and ontological implications of one specific and intensely contested dialectical context from which Deleuze’s thinking about structural ideal genesis visibly arises. This is the formal/ontological dualism between the principles, ἀρχαί, of the One (ἕν) and the Indefinite/Unlimited Dyad (ἀόριστος δυάς), which is arguably the culminating achievement of the later Plato’s development of a mathematical dialectic.3 Following commentators including Lautman, Oskar Becker, and Kenneth M. Sayre, we argue that the duality of the One and (...) the Indefinite Dyad provides, in the later Plato, a unitary theoretical formalism accounting, by means of an iterated mixing without synthesis, for the structural origin and genesis of both supersensible Ideas and the sensible particulars which participate in them. As these commentators also argue, this duality furthermore provides a maximally general answer to the problem of temporal becoming that runs through Plato’s corpus: that of the relationship of the flux of sensory experiences to the fixity and order of what is thinkable in itself. Additionally, it provides a basis for understanding some of the famously puzzling claims about forms, numbers, and the principled genesis of both attributed to Plato by Aristotle in the Metaphysics, and plausibly underlies the late Plato’s deep considerations of the structural paradoxes of temporal change and becoming in the Parmenides, the Sophist, and the Philebus. After extracting this structure of duality and developing some of its formal, ontological, and metalogical features, we consider some of its specific implications for a thinking of time and ideality that follows Deleuze in a formally unitary genetic understanding of structural difference. These implications of Plato’s duality include not only those of the constitution of specific theoretical domains and problematics, but also implicate the reflexive problematic of the ideal determinants of the form of a unitary theory as such. We argue that the consequences of the underlying duality on the level of content are ultimately such as to raise, on the level of form, the broader reflexive problem of the basis for its own formal or meta-theoretical employment. We conclude by arguing for the decisive and substantive presence of a proper “Platonism” of the Idea in Deleuze, and weighing the potential for a substantive recuperation of Plato’s duality in the context of a dialectical affirmation of what Deleuze recognizes as the “only” ontological proposition that has ever been uttered. This is the proposition of the univocity of Being, whereby “being is said in the same sense, everywhere and always,” but is said (both problematically and decisively) of difference itself. (shrink)

We are going to present a panorama of Byzantine Philosophy. As starting point should be considered the Patristic Thought, which preceded the Byzantine Philosophy and was established in the first centuries A.D. into the Greek-Roman world. It was based on the Old and New Testament, the apostolic teachings, as well as on Judaism and Greek Philosophy. Also, the Ancient Oriental Religions – especially those of the Greek-Roman period, i.e. the Gnosticism- exerted an influence on it. The Patristic Thought and the (...) Ancient Greek Philosophy were the two main pedestals of Byzantine Philosophy. But, we cannot separate completely Patristic thought from the Byzantine Philosophy, first because the Byzantine Philosophy used all the corpus of the preceded texts of the Church Fathers and second because the Patristic Thought was continued to the end of Byzantium in interaction with Byzantine Philosophy. When we use he term Byzantine Philosophy we refer to the ideological currents that flourished from the 9th century till the 15th in the geographical area of the Greek East. Its main task was the quest for truth from the metaphysical point of view. In this era we have not only commentaries and scholastic works, but also an assimilation of the previous philosophical and scientific developments in purpose of an interior evolution. The opposition to, and the use of, the Western scholasticism were also another two special characteristics of Byzantine Thought. The use of the logical works of Aristotle and the metaphysics of Plato made up its main theoretical body, always in relation to the Christian dogmas. The logical, metaphysical, cosmological, ethical, aesthetical and anthropological subjects were closely connected with the fixed Christian view of the World, God and Man. But despite the influence of the Christian religion and the Aristotelic, Platonic, Stoic, Neoplatonic etc. teachings, today we can arrive at the conclusion that from the ninth through the fifteen century a relative autonomy of Philosophy in Byzantium was emerged. Also, the Philosophical thought in Byzantium gave some new solutions to the old problems and dared sometimes to proceed in new rational, mystical or even empirical elaborations of original philosophical questions. (shrink)

William Ockham held that, in addition to written and spoken language, there exists a mental language, a structured representational system common to all thinking beings. Here I present and evaluate an argument found in several places across Ockham's corpus, wherein he argues that positing a mental language is necessary for the nominalist to meet certain ontological constraints imposed by Aristotle’s account of scientific demonstration.

‘The Image of Thought’ could be considered to be the most important piece of writing in the entire Deleuzian corpus. This is the chapter of Difference and Repetition that several decades later, Deleuze claims is the ‘most necessary and the most concrete’ (Deleuze 1994: xvii) section of the book, and the one that provides a basis for his later work with Guattari. Here, Deleuze engages with two basic issues. First, he separates out his conception of thinking, and with it, (...) philosophy, from prior philosophical approaches, explaining why the difference of his philosophy from prior systems itself differs from the traditional relationship between philosophical positions. Second, he raises the question of how one should begin to philosophise. As we will see, philosophy often operates by the recognition of implicit presuppositions in prior thinkers, and their refutation. Descartes, for instance, criticises Aristotle for presupposing the transparency of categories such as rational and animal. Kant, in turn, criticises Descartes for presupposing the determinability of his own foundational moment, the cogito. If we see the development of philosophy as the unmasking and critique of presuppositions of prior systems, then the endpoint of philosophy will be a system entirely without presuppositions. This is the goal Hegel aims at with his system of absolute idealism. Deleuze’s claim is that such a model of the progress of philosophy itself operates within one overarching assumption: the good will of thinking. In this essay, I want to relate these questions of thinking and beginnings to the work of one of Deleuze’s predecessors. Deleuze writes of Ludwig Feuerbach that ‘Feuerbach is among those who have pursued farthest the problem of where to begin.’ (Deleuze 1994: 319) As we shall see, prefiguring Deleuze, Feuerbach accuses Hegel of operating within ‘an image of Reason’. While Feuerbach is famous as a precursor of Marx, and for his critique of traditional accounts of religion, I want to here focus on an early piece by Feuerbach, his Critique of Hegelian Philosophy. Here Feuerbach sets out the limitations of traditional philosophical accounts, and provides the groundwork for his own later materialism. Deleuze discovered Feuerbach through his friend Althusser’s translation of his work, published in 1960. While many of the intuitions behind Deleuze’s critique of the image of thought can be found within a broader pantheon of thinkers, including Nietzsche, Bergson, and Foucault, the specific mechanics of Deleuze’s criticism bear a striking resemblance to the formulation of the critique of philosophy in Feuerbach’s earlier thought. I want to explore this connection, first by looking at the dialectical interrelation of two thinkers, Descartes and Hegel, to get a sense for how criticism in philosophy typically operates. I then want to move on to look at Feuerbach’s critique of Hegel and philosophy more generally, drawing out several aspects that will be taken up by Deleuze himself. I will then look at some of the ways in which Deleuze goes beyond Feuerbach by recognising some of the limitations that persist in Feuerbach’s own analysis. I will conclude by showing how Deleuze’s desire to think the two common acceptations of aesthetics together (the artistic and the sensible) bring Feuerbach into relation with an unexpected figure: the playwright and poet, Antonin Artaud. (shrink)

St. Thomas’s Third Way to prove the existence of God, “Of Possibility and Necessity” (ST 1, q.2, art. 3, response) is one of the most controverted passages in the entire Thomistic corpus. The central point of dispute is that if there were only possible beings, each at some time would cease to exist and, therefore, at some point in time nothing would exist, and because something cannot come from nothing, in such an eventuality, nothing would exist now—a reductio ad (...) absurdum conclusion. Therefore, at least one necessary being must exist. Generations of critics and defenders have contended over St. Thomas’s proof. This article argues that the principle of pros hen analogy is implicit in the Third Way and that once identified explains the ontological dependency of possible beings, as secondary analogates, on the first necessary being, as primary analogate. Thus, without the necessary being as primary analogate, possible beings simply could not exist. The fact that they do exist is evidence for the existence of the necessary being. St. Thomas makes synthesizes the principle of pros hen analogy, as found in Aristotle’s Metaphysics, with the Neoplatonic principle of participation. Aristotle develops pros hen analogy in contradistinction to univocal and equivocal predication as well as to genus in Metaphysics 4.2, 11.3, 12.3-5. Since Scotus and re-enforced by modern analytic logic, philosophers have almost universally regarded any kind of analogical predication as a sub-category of equivocal predication and, thus, implicitly occlude the possibility of considering pros hen analogy in their readings of the Third Way. Distinction of per se and per accidens infinite regress and of radical and natural contingency are also central to understanding the Third Way. While resolving apparent problems in the Third Way, the article also seeks to rehabilitate the doctrine of pros hen analogy as a basic principle in Thomistic and, indeed, Aristotelian metaphysics. (shrink)

Regarding the relation of Plato’s early and middle period dialogues, scholars have been divided to two opposing groups: unitarists and developmentalists. While developmentalists try to prove that there are some noticeable and even fundamental differences between Plato’s early and middle period dialogues, the unitarists assert that there is no essential difference in there. The main goal of this article is to suggest that some of Plato’s ontological as well as epistemological principles change, both radically and fundamentally, between the early and (...) middle period dialogues. Though this is a kind of strengthening the developmentalistic approach corresponding the relation of the early and middle period dialogues, based on the fact that what is to be proved here is a essential development in Plato’ ontology and his epistemology, by expanding the grounds of development to the ontological and epistemological principles, it hints to a more profound development. The fact that the bipolar and split knowledge and being of the early period dialogues give way to the tripartite and bound knowledge and benig of the middle period dialogues indicates the development of the notions of being and knowledge in Plato’s philosophy before the dialogues of the middle period. -/- Keywords Plato; early dialogues; middle dialogues; being; knowledge; development -/- Introduction The differences between two groups of the early and middle period dialogues have always been a matter of dispute. Whereas the developmentalists like Vlastos, Silverman (2002), Teloh (1981), Dancy (2004) and Rickless (2007) think that from the early to the middle dialogues Plato’s philosophy changes, at least in some essential points, the unitarists like Kahn, Cherniss and Shorey believe that there happens no development and the differences must be taken as natural, ignorable and even pedagogic. In his well-known article, Socrates contra Socrates in PLATO, Vlastos lists ten theses of difference between two groups of dialogues. The first group which includes Plato’s early dialogues he divides to 'elenctic' (Apology, Charmides, Crito, Euthyphro, Gorgias, Hippias Minor, Ion, Laches, Protagoras and Republic I) and 'transitional' (Euthydemus, Hippias Major, Lysis, Menexenus and Meno) dialogues. These transitional come after all the elenctic dialogues and before all the dialogues of the second group which compose Plato’s middle period dialogues, including (with Vlastos' chronological order) Cratylus, Phaedo, Symposium, Republic II-X, Phaedrus, Parmenides and Theaetetus (1991, 46-49). Vlastos asserts strictly that his list of differences are 'so diverse in content and method that they contrast as sharply with one another as with any third philosophy you care to mention, beginning with Aristotole’s' (ibid, 46). Vlastos’ list of differences between two Socrateses is considered a view breaking sharply between the early and the middle dialogues. Besides all ten differences between the two Socrateses in Vlastos’ list that can be supportive for our doctrine here, we intend to focus on some ontological as well as epistemological distinctions that have not completely been discussed hitherto. Contrary to the developmentalist theory of Vlastos, unitarian theory of Charles Kahn wishes to eliminate any substantial difference between the early and the middle dialogues. He distinguishes seven 'pre-middle' or 'threshold' dialogues including Laches, Charmides, Euthyphro, Protagoras, Meno, Lysis and Euthydemus from the other Socratic dialogues which he calls 'earliest group' (1996, 41). The threshold dialogues, Kahn thinks, 'embarke upon a sustained project' that is to reach to its climax in the middle period dialogues, namely Phaedo, Symposium and Republic. Believing in that there is no 'fundamental shift'between the early and middle dialogues (ibid, 40), Kahn thinks the Socratic dialogues are just the 'first stage' with a 'deliberate silence' towards the theories of later periods (ibid, 339). One of the reasons of the surprising fact that Plato gives no hint of the metaphysics and epistemology of the Forms in the early dialogues, he thinks, is the pedagogical advantages of aporia. He thinks that Plato 'obscurely', and mostly because of education, hinted to some doctrines and conceptions in his early dialogues and with the aim of clarifying them only in the later ones (ibid, 66). The seven threshold dialogues, Kahn asserts, 'had been designed from the first' to prepare the pupils and readers for the views expounded in the middle period dialogues (ibid, 59-60). To show that the differences of the two Socrateses of the early and middle period dialogue are in their onto-epistemological grounds and thence cannot be explained by a unitaristic view, we try to draw the ontological and epistemological principles of the early dialogues in the first part below in order to show, in the second part, that those principles have been developed in the middle period dialogues. -/- A. The Onto-Epistemologic Principles of the Early Dialogues Socratic dialogues are paradoxical about knowledge because while being knowledge-oriented always searching for knowledge, they deny it and even never discuss it directly. Three elements of Socrates’ way of searching Knowledge throughout the early dialogues, i.e. Socratic 'what is X?' question, his disavowal of knowledge and his elenctic method combined together produce something like a circle which works, more or less, in the same way in these dialogues. Though this circle is an embaressing inquiry always resulting in ignorance instead of knowledge, its motivation is surprisingly Socrates’ passionate enthusiasm for knowledge, an intensive love of wisdom. The starting point of this circle is Socrates’ confession of having no knowledge which might be explicitly asserted or presupposed, maybe because it was one of the famous characteristics of Socrates; a confession always paradoxically accompanied with his intense longing for knowledge (e.g., Gorgias 505e4-5). Every time Socrates encounters with someone who thinks he knows something (οἴεταί τι εἰδέναι) (Apology 21d5) and tries to examine him. This examination seems to be the simplest one asking just what it is that he knows. Socrates’ elenchus, therefore, is always connected with 'what is X?' (τίς ποτέ ἐστιν) question, a question that most of the early dialogues of Plato are concerned with; 'what is courage?' in the Laches, 'what is piety?' in Euthydemus, 'what is temperance?' in Charmides and 'what is beauty?' in Hippias Major. This question we call here 'Socratic question' and probably is the very question the historical Socrates used to employ, is tightly interrelated with both his disavowal and his elenchus. He disclaims knowledge because he cannot find the answer to the question himself and he rejects others’ since they cannot offer the correct answer too. Every interlocutor can claim he knows X, if and only if he can answer the Socratic question. Otherwise, he is more of an ignorant than of a knower of τί ποτέ ἐστι X. Knowing the answer to this question is, thus, knowledge’s criterion for Socrates. Having found out that he cannot answer what it is which he would claim to know, the interlocutor comes to the point Socrates was there at the beginning. The least advantage of this circle is that he becomes as wise as Socrates does about the subject, becoming aware that he does not know it. At the end of the circle they are both still at the beginning, not knowing what X is. So let us first take a glance at these three elements. Socratic disavowal of knowledge is strictly asserted in some passages. At Apology 21b4-5, Socrates says: -/- I do not know of myself being wise at all (οὔτε μέγα οὔτε σμικρὸν σύνοιδα ἐμαυτῷ σοφὸς ὤν) -/- Moreover, at 21d4-6: -/- None of us knows anything worthwhile (καλὸν κἀγαθὸν εἰδέναι) …. I do not know (οἶδα) neither do I think I know. -/- In Charmides Socrates speaks about a fear about his probable mistake of thinking that he knows (εἰδέναι) something when he does not (166d1-2). The somehow generalization of this disavowal can be seen in Gorgias. After calling his disavowal 'an account that is always the same' (509a4-5), Socrates continues (a5-7): -/- I say that I do not know (οἶδα) how these things are, but no one I have ever met, like now, who can say anything else without being absurd. -/- At the end of Hippias Major (304d7-8), Socrates affirms his disavowal of knowledge of 'what is X?' this time about the fine: -/- I do not know (οἶδα) what that is itself (αὐτὸ τοῦτο ὅτι ποτέ ἐστιν). Some other passages, however, made a number of scholars dubious about Socrates’ disavowal. Vlastos mentions Apology 29b6-7 as an evidence : 'that to do wrong and to disobey one’s master, both god and men, I know (οἶδα) to be evil and shameful'. He thinks that if we give this single text 'its full weight' it can suffice to show that Socrates does claim knowledge of a moral truth (1985, 7). Vlastos’ claim is not admittable since it would be too strange, I think, for a man like Socrates to violate his disavowal claim just after emphasizing it. We can see his claim just before the already mentioned passage: -/- And surely it is the most blameworthy ignorance to believe that one knows what one does not know. It is perhaps on this point and in this respect, gentlemen, that I differ from the majority of men and if I were to claim that I am wiser than anyone in anything it world be in this, that, as I have no adequate knowledge (οὐκ εἰδὼς ἱκανῶς) of things in the underworld, so I do not think I have (οὐκ εἰδέναι) (Apology 29b1-6) Vlastos tries to solve what he calls the 'paradox' of Socrates’ disavowal of knowledge distinguishing the 'certain' knowledge from 'elenctic' knowledge (1985, 11) and thinking that when Socrates avows knowledge, we must perceive it as an elenctic knowledge, a knowledge its content 'must be propositions he thinks elenctically justifiable' (ibid, 18). Irwin’s solution is the distinction of knowledge and belief. He approves that Socrates does not 'explicitly' make such a distinction, but still thinks that Socrates’ 'test for knowledge would make it reasonable for him to recognize true belief without knowledge, and his own claims are easily understood if they are claims to true belief alone' (1977, 40). While I agree with Vlastos up to a point, I strongly disagree with Irwin about the early dialogues. As I will try to show below, we are not permitted to consider any kind of distinction within knowledge in Socratic dialogues because only one category of knowledge is alluded to there and the distinction of knowledge and belief thoroughly belongs to the second Sorcates. Although no kind of distinction can be admittable here, I think Vlastos’ distinction can be accepted only if we regard it as a distinction between knowledge, which is unique and without any, even incomparable, rival, and a semi-idiomatic and ordinary one that is a necessary requirement for any argument, and thus, unavoidable even for someone who does not claim any kind of knowledge. An apparent evidence of this is Gorgias 505e6-506a4: -/- I go through the discussion as I think it is (ὡς ἄν μοι δοκῇ ἔχειν), if any of you do not agree with admissions I am making to myself, you must object and refute me. For I do not say what I say as I know (οὐδὲ γάρ τοι ἔγωγε εἰδὼς λέγω ἃ λέγω) but as searching jointly with you (ζητῶ κοινῇ μεθ᾽ ὑμῶν). -/- The minimal degree of knowledge everyone must have to take part in an argument, conduct it and use the phrase "I know" when it is necessary is what Socrates cannot deny. We can call it elenctic knowledge only if we agree that it is not the kind of knowledge that Socrates has always been searching, the one that can be accepted as the answer of Socratic 'what is X?' question. His disavowal of knowledge is applied only to the knowledge which can truly be the answer of Socratic question and pass the elenctic exam; a knowledge that, I believe, is never claimed by first Socrates. Socrates conducts his method of examining his interlocutors’ knowledge, our second element here, by almost the same method repeated in Socratic dialogues. That whether we are allowed to regard all the examinations of Socrates in the early dialogues as based on the same or not has been a matter of dispute. Vlastos himself (1994, 31) distinguished Euthydemas, Lysis, Menexenns and Hippias Major from the other Socratic dialogues because he thinks Socrates has lost his faith to elenchus in there. Irwin (1977, 38) distinguishes Apology and Crito where Socrates’ own convictions is present. Contrary to some scholars like Benson (2002, 107) who take elenchus in all the Socratic dialogues as a unique method, Michelle Carpenter and Ronald M. Polansky (2002, 89-100) argue pro the variety of methods of elenchus. Thomas C. Brickhouse and Nicholas D. Smith (2002, 145-160) even reject such a thing as Socratic elenchus which can gather all of the Socrates’ various arguments under such a heading. There can be no solution for the problem of elenchus, they think, is due to 'the simple reason that there is no such thing as 'the Socratic elenchos"'(p.147). Though we consider elenchus a somehow determined process and a part of Socratic circle in the early dialogues, all we assume is that whatever differences it might have in different dialogues, it has the same onto-epistemological principles and, thus, we are not going to take it necessarily as a unique method. This method sets out to prove that the interlocutors are as ignorant as Socrates himself is. That whether elenchus is constructive, capable of establishing doctrines as Vlastos (1994) or Brickhouse and Smith (1994, 20-21) believe or not is another issue to which this paper is not to claim anything. What is crucial for our discussion here is that elenchus does not reach to the very knowledge Socrates is looking for. This is strictly against Irwin who thinks that not only elenchus leads to positive results, 'it should even yield knowledge to match Socrates’ conditions'(1977, 68, cf. 48). He does not explain where and how they really yield to that kind of knowledge. He explains his elenctic method in his apology in the court (Apology 21-22), that how he used to examine wise men, politicians, poets and all those who had the highest reputation for their knowledge and every time found that they have no knowledge. If we accept, as I strongly do, that Socrates’ disavowal of his knowledge is not irony, it might seem more reasonable to agree that the process that has that disavowal as its first step cannot be irony as well. The key of the circle which can explain why Socrates disclaims knowledge and how he can reject others’ claim of having any kind of knowledge lies in the third element, Socratic question. In Hippias Major (287c1-2), Socrates asks: 'Is it not by Justice that just people are Just? (ἆρ᾽ οὐ δικαιοσύνῃ δίκαιοί εἰσιν οἱ δίκαιοι). He insists at 294b1 that they were searching for that by which (ᾧ) all beautiful things are beautiful (cf. b4-5, 8). At Euthyphro 6d10-11 it is said that the Socratic question is waiting for 'the form itself (αὐτὸ τὸ εἶδος) by which (ᾧ) all the pious actions are pious; and at 6d11-e1: -/- Through one form (που μιᾷ ἰδέᾳ) impious actions are impious and pious actions pious. -/- Since the X itself is that by which X is X, knowing 'X itself' is the only way of knowing X. It is probably because of this that Socrates makes the distinction between the ousia as a right answer to the question and effect as a wrong one: -/- I am afraid, Euthyphro, that when you were asked what piety is (τὸ ὅσιον ὅτι ποτ᾽ ἐστίν) you did not wish to make clear its nature itself (οὐσίαν … αὐτοῦ) to me, but you said some effect (πάθος) about it. (Euthp. 11a6-9) -/- 1. Knowledge of what X is Now it is time to look for the onto-epistemological principles of Socratic circle and its three elements. It cannot reasonably be expected from the first Socrates to present us explicitly and clearly formulated principles of his onto-epistemology when such explications cannot be found even in the second Socrates who has some obviously positive theoris. Since there must be some principles underlying this first systematic inqury of knowledge, we must seek to them and be satisfied with elicitation of the first Socratas’ principle. What will be drawn out as his principles cannot and must not, thus, be taken as very fix and dogmatic principles. Some very slightest principles and grounds suffice for our purposes here. The first principle that is the prima facie significance of the Socratic question and his implementation of all those elenctic arguments I call the principle of 'Knowledge of What X is' (KWX): -/- KWX To know X, it is required to know what X is. -/- Aristotle (Metaphysics 1078b23-25, 27-29, 987b4-8) takes Plato’s τί ἐστι question as seeking the definition of a thing that is the same as historical Socrates’ search but applying to a different field. That Plato’s 'what is X?' question was a search for definition became the prevailed understanding of this question up to now. I am going neither to discuss the answer of Socratic question nor to challenge taking it as definition. What I am to insist is that knowledge is attached firmly to the answer of the question: Knowledge of X is not anything but the knowledge of what X is. It entails, certainly, the priority of this knowledge to any other kind of knowledge about X but it also has something more fundamental about the relation of knowledge and Socratic question. Socrates’ exclusive focus on the answer of his question can authorize the consideration of such an essential role for KWX in his epistemolgoy. The total rejection of his interlocutors’ knowledge when they are unable to answer the question can be regarded as a strong evidence for it. Socrates’ elenctic method and his rejection of others’ knowledge in the early dialogues, which all end aporetically with no one accepted as knower and nothing as knowledge, prevent us from finding any positive evidence for this. We have to be content, therefore, of negative evidences which, I think, can be found wherever Socrates rejects his interlocutors’ knowledge when they are not able to give an acceptable answer to his 'what is X?' question. 2. Bipolar Epistemology Socrates’ rejection of his interlocutors’ knowledge has another epistemological principle as its basis. Let me call this principle Bipolar Epistemology' (BE): BE There is no third way besides knowledge and Ignorance. -/- BE says that about every object of knowledge there are only two subjective statuses: knowledge and Ignorance. Socrates’ disavowal, however, says nothing but that he is ignorant of knowledge of X because he does not know what X is. This means that BE is presupposed here. Socrates’ elenchus and his rejection of interlocutors’ having any kind of knowledge are the necessary results of the fact that he does not let any third way besides knowledge and ignorance. The first Socrates never let anyone partly know X or have a true opinion about it, as he would not let anyone know anything about X when he did not know what X is. -/- 3. Bipolar Ontology The principle of BE in first Socrates’ epistemology is parallel to another principle in his ontology. Plato’s bipolar distinction between being and not being is as strict and perfect as his distinction between knowledge and ignorance. This principle I shall call the principle of 'Bipolar Ontology' (BO): BO Being is and not being is not. BO is apparently the same with the well-known Parmenidean Principle of being and not being (cf. Diels-Kranz (DK) Fr. 2.2-5). Euthydemus’ statement against the possibility of false knowledge can be good evidence for this principle: -/- The things which are not surely do not exist (τὰ δὲ μὴ ὄντα … ἄλλο τι ἢ οὐκ ἔστιν). (Euthydemus 284b3-4) -/- He continues (b4-5): -/- There is nowhere for not being to be there (οὖν οὐδαμοῦ τά γε μὴ ὄντα ὄντα ἐστίν). -/- That BE does not let true opinion as a third option besides knowledge and ignorance seems to be related to BO’s rejecting a third option besides being and not being, which is itself the basis of the impossibility of false belief. Socrates’ elaborate discussion of the problem of false belief in Theatetus that leads to a more decisive discussion and finally to some solutions in Sophist can make our consideration of BO for the first group of dialogues authentive. -/- 4. &5. Split Knowledge and Split Being The fourth principle I shall call the principle of 'Split Knowledge' (SK): -/- SK Knowledge of X is separated from any other knowledge (of anything else) as if the whole knowledge is split to various parts. -/- This Principle is hinted and criticized as Socrates’ way of treating with knowledge in Hippias Major: -/- But Socrates, you do not contemplate the entireties of things, nor do people you have used to talk with (τὰ μὲν ὅλα τῶν πραγμάτων οὐ σκοπεῖς, οὐδ᾽ ἐκεῖνοι οἷς σὺ εἴωθας διαλέγεσθαι). (301b2-4) -/- Contrary to Rankin who regards the passage as 'antilogical, almost eristic in tone rather than presenting a serious philosophy of being' (1983, 54), I think it can be taken as serious. Hippias criticizes Sorcates that he does not contemplate (σκοπεῖς) the entireties of things (ὅλα τῶν πραγμάτων), a critique which Socrates is not its only subject but all those whom Socrates accustomed to talk with (ἐκεῖνοι οἷς σὺ εἴωθας διαλέγεσθαι). This last phrase, I think, extends this critic beyond this dialogue to other Socratic dialogues. Hippias’ use of the perfect tense of the verb ἔθω (to be accustomed) is a good evidence of this extension. We can get, thus, these ἐκεῖνοι as Socrates’ interlocutors in his other dialogues that hints that this criticism has the epistemological groundings of the previous dialogues as its subject. What ἐκεῖνοι οἷς σὺ εἴωθας διαλέγεσθαι points to is that Hippias does not have in mind Socrates’ way of treating things only in this dialogue, but he is also criticizing Socrates’ way throughout his dialogues. At 301b4-5, Socrates and his interlocutors’ way of beholding things is described as such: -/- You people knock (κρούετε) at the fine and each of the beings (ἕκαστον τῶν ὄντων) by taking each being cut up in pieces (κατατέμνοντες) in words (ἐν τοῖς λόγοις). This leads us to our next principle that is parallel to, and the ontological side of, SK, the principle of 'Split Being'(SB): -/- SB Everything (being) is separated from any other thing as if the whole being is split to many beings. -/- Socrates and his interlocutors and thus, as we saw, the Socratic dialogues are accused to regard everything as it is separated from all other things. This separation is en tois logois that, I think, can reasonably be taken as saying that Socratic dialogues (it refers of course to the dialogues before Hippias Major) cut up all things which have the same name/definition from all other things and try to understand them separately, without considering other things that are not in their logos. They, for example in Hippias Major, are cutting up to kalon and try to understand what it and all others inside this logos are by separating it from all other things. This is directed straightly against Socratic question and the way Socratic dialogues follow to find its answer, every time separating one logos. As Meyer (1995, 85) points out, every question 'presupposes that the X in question in a logos is something' and 'every answer to every question aims at unity' (84). The critique of Hippias Major is, therefore, at the same time a critique of SK and SB. It is also a critique of KWX because it is only based on KWX that Socratic dialogues could search for the answer of 'what is X' question supposing that knowing what X is is enough for the knowledge of X. SK and KWX are absolutely interdependent. What Socrates and all his previous interlocutors have neglected in Socratic dialogues, Hippias says, was 'continuous bodies of being' (διανεκῆ σώματα τῆς οὐσίας) (301b6). Either this theory actually belongs to the historical Hippias as it is being said or not, it is strictly criticizing SB. We have the same phrase with changing sūma to logos some lines later at 301e3-4: διανεκεῖ λόγῳ τῆς οὐσίας. Although this theory that can be observed as both an ontological and an epistemological theory is rejected by Socrates (301cff.), it is still against first Socrates’ onto-epistemological principles and might let us look at what is rejected as Socratic prineple. -/- 6. Knowledge is of Being The sixth principle that I think is presupposed by the first Socrates, is the 'Knowledge of Being' Principle (KB): -/- KB Knowledge is of Being. -/- This principle is obviously the source of the problem of false knowledge, a very important problem throughout Plato’s philosophy. We face this problem maybe for the first time in Euthydemus. In less than 20 Stephanus’ pages, 276-295, we are encountered with different interwoven problems about knowledge , all grounded in the problem of false opinion. Having challenged the obvious possibility of telling lies at 283e, at 284 Euthydemus discusses it saying that the man who speaks is speaking about 'one of those things that are (ἓν μὴν κἀκεῖνό γ᾽ ἐστὶν τῶν ὄντων)' (284a3) and thus speaks what is (λέγων τὸ ὄν) (a5). He must necessarily be saying truth when he is speaking what is because he who speaks what is (τὸ ὄν) and the things that are (τὰ ὄντα) speaks truth (τἀληθῆ λέγει) (a5-6). This is based on Parmenidean principle of the impossibility of being of not being which Euthydemus restates (284b3-4) and we mentioned discussing BO principle above. The things that are not are nowhere (οὐδαμοῦ) and there is no possibility for anyone to do (πράξειεν) anything with them because they must be made as being before anything else can be done, which is impossible (b5-7). The words, then, are of things that exist (εἰσὶν ἑκάστῳ τῶν ὄντων λόγοι) (285e9) and as they are (ὡς ἔστιν) (e10). The result is that no one can speak of things as they are not. It is this impossibility of false speach that is extended to thinking (δοξάζειν) at 286d1 and leads to the impossibility of false opinion (ψευδής … δόξα) (286d4). The general conclusion is asserted at 287a extending this impossibility to actions and making any kind of mistake. Not only knowledge is of being but speech, thought and action are of being simply because of the fact that nothing can be of not being. -/- B. First Socrates’ Principles in the Middle Period Dialogues Out of what were presupposed or criticized mostly in five dialogues, Euthyphro, Euthydemus, Hippias Major, Laches and Charmides, we tried to draw the first Socrates’ principles. Our inquiry here is directed to find out the fate of these principles in the three dialogues of the middle period, Meno, Phaedo and Republic. To do this, first we ought to check the situation of Socratic circle in these dialogues. The Socratic circle that was predominant in the early dialogues, does not look like a circle here anymore though they certainly have some features in common. Meno, Phaedo and Republic II-X are not committed to the principles of the circle and the whole circle in disrupted in them. The difference of the two Socrateses towards acquiring knowledge is obvious. The Socrates of Meno, Phaedo and Republic is evidently more self-confident that he can get to some truths during his arguments as he does. They are in their first appearance, as almost all other dialogues, committed to Socrates’ disavowal. All of them try to keep the shape of the Socratikoi Logoi genre, which is committed to the historical Socrates’ way of discussion; a dramatic personage who is to challenge his interlocutors, ask them and refuse the answers. Nevertheless, the fact is that what we have in common between two groups of dialogues is mostly a dramatic structure. Whereas the first group’s arguments are based on Socrates’ disavowal and lead to no positive results, the second group is decisively going to achieve some positive results. The aim of the first Socrates was to show others that they are ignorant of what they thought they knew. The new Socrates of Meno, on the opposite, makes so much efforts to show that the slave boy has within himself true opinions (ἀληθεῖς δόξαι) about the things that he does not know (οἶδε) (85c6-7). Despite his lack of knowledge, he has true opinions nevertheless. The way from these true opinions to knowledge, as Socrates states, is not so long. These true opinions are now like a dream but 'can become knowledge of the same things not less accurate than anyone’s' (οὐδενὸς ἧττον ἀκριβῶς ἐπιστήσεται περὶ τούτων) (c11-d1), if they be repeated by asking the same questions. The most outstanding text regarding Socrates’ disavowal is Meno 98b where he explicitly claims knowledge: -/- And indeed I also speak as (ὡς) one who does not know (εἰδὼς) but is guessing (εἰκάζων). However, [about the fact] that true opinion and knowledge are different, I do not altogether expect (δοκῶ) myself to be guessing (εἰκάζειν), but if I say about anything that I know (εἰδέναι) -which about few things I say- this is one of the things that I know (οἶδα). (98b1-5) This passage is very significant about Plato’s disavowal of knowledge. There can hardly be found, I think, anywhere else in Plato’s corpus where Socrates speaks about his knowledge of something as such. He says first that he speaks as someone who does not know. This ὡς οὐκ εἰδὼς λέγω comparing with what he used to say in the first group, οὐκ οἶδα, has this added ὡς. Socrates does not claim strongly anymore that he does not know anything but speaks only as someone who does not know. He needs this ὡς not only because he is going to accept that he does know some, though few, things immediately after this sentence, but also because he needs his previous disavowal to be loosened from Meno on. He does not merely say here that he knows something. It is then different from the examples mentioned before which could be taken as idiomatic or at least not emphatic. Socrates’ remarkable emphasis on distinguishing εἰδέναι from εἰκάζειν departs it from all other passages where he says only he knows something. Moreover, he claims definitely that he has knowledge about few (ὀλίγα) things. From the early to the middle dialogues, Socrates’ attitude to knowledge has totally renewed its face. He brings forth a new concept, true opinion, and he does not speak of knowledge as he used to before; the rough, perfect and unachievable knowledge of the first group has turned to something more smooth, realistic and achievable. Comparing with the early dialogues that did not set out from the first to reach positive results, the middle ones are extraordinarily and surprisingly positive and hence destroy the basis of the Socratic circle. The questions and answers are purposely directed to some specific new theories; most of them are not directly related to the topics or the main questions of the dialogues. They are suggested when Socrates draws the attention of the interlocutor away from the main question because of the necessity of another discussion. Even if the main question remains unanswered, we have still many positive theories, prominently of metaphysical type. These theories are so abundant and dominant in these dialogues, especially Phaedo and Republic, that one might think that they may appear to be arbitrarily sandwiched in there. This helps dialogues to keep their original Socratic structure while they are suggesting new theories. Hence, the Socratic question of 'what is X?', though is still used to launch the discussion, is loosened and is forgotten for most part of the dialogues. Meno that has first a differently formulated question, 'can virtue be taught?', leads finally to the Socratic question of 'What is virtue?'. Phaedo is dedicated to the demonstration of the immortality of soul and the life after death without having a central Socratic question. The case of Republic is more complicated. The first book, on the one hand, has all the criteria of a Socratic circle: its 'what is justice?' question, Socrates’ strong disavowal (e.g. 337d-e), his rejection of all answers and coming back to the first point without finding out any answer. This Book, considered alone, is a perfect Socratic dialogue, as many scholars regard it as early and separated from other books. The books II-X are, on the other hand, far from implementing a Socratic circle. They have still the 'what is justice?' question as their incentive leading question, but they are, in most of the positive doctrines and methods that encompass the main parts, ignoring the question. Even these books that, I believe, are the farthest discussions from the Socratic circle are so cautious not to break the Socratic structure of the dialogue as long as it is possible. What is changed is not the structure of the dialogue but the ontological and epistemological grounds based on which new theories are suggested. -/- 1. Knowledge of the Good We can clearly see in the second group of dialogues that the KWX principle loses the place it had before in our first group. It is not, of course, rejected, but still we cannot say that it has the same situation. KWX that was based on Socratic question, as we discussed before, was the leading principle of the first Socrates’ epistemology and of the highest position. Other epistemological principles, SK directly and BE indirectly, were relying on Socratic question and therefore on KWX. Such a position does not belong to KWX from Meno on. What makes it different in the second Socrates is another principle that is needed it not only as its complementary principle but also as what is more fundamental. Plato, then, does not reject KWX in this period, but, it seems, he transcends to another more basic principle; a principle we shall call the principle of 'Knowledge of the Good' (KG): -/- KG Knowledge of X requires knowledge of the Good. -/- Whereas all the dialogues of our first group are free from any discuscon about KG, it bears a very important role in the second group so as becomes the superior principle of knowledge in Republic. Trying to solve the problem of teachability of virtue, Socrates says that it can be teachable only if it is a kind of knowledge because nothing can be taught to human beings but knowledge (ἐπιστήμην) (Meno 87c2). The dilemma will be, then, whether virtue is knowledge or not (c11-12) and since virtue is good, we can change the question to: whether is there anything good separate from knowledge (εἰ μέν τί ἐστιν ἀγαθὸν καὶ ἄλλο χωριζόμενον ἐπιστήμης) (d4-5). Therefore, the conclusion will be that if there is nothing good which knowledge does not encompass, virtue can be nothing but knowledge (d6-8). What let us discuss KG as an epistemological principle for the second Secrates is the relation he tries to establish between knowledge and the Good which, though is alongside with the mentioned thesis and the idea of virtue as knowledge, goes much deeper inside epistemology asking to regard the Good as the basis of knowledge. The effort of Phaedo cannot succeed in establishing the Good as the criterion of explanation and knowledge since, I think, it needs a far more complicated ontology of Republic where Socrates can finally announce KG. What is said in Republic is totally compatible with Phaedo 99d–e and the metaphor of watching an eclipse of the sun. In spite of the fact that we do not have adequate knowledge of the Idea of the Good, it is necessary for every kind of knowledge: 'If we do not know it, even if we know all other things, it is of no benefit to us without it' (505a6-7). The problem of our not having sufficient knowledge of the Idea of Good is tried to be solved by the same method of Phaedo 99d-e, that is to say, by looking at what is like instead of looking at thing itself (506d8-e4). It is this solution that leads to the comparison of the Good with sun in the allegory of Sun (508b12-13). What the Good is in the intelligible realm corresponds to what the sun is in the visible realm; as sun is not sight, but is its cause and is seen by it (b9-10), the Good is so regarding knowledge. It has, then, the same role for knowledge that the sun has for sight. Socrates draws our attention to the function of sun in our seeing. The eyes can see everything only in the light of the day being unable to see the same things in the gloom of night (508c4-6). Without the sun, our eyes are dimmed and blind as if they do not have clear vision any longer (c6-7). That the Good must have the same role about knowledge based on the analogy means that it must be considered as a required condition of any kind of knowledge: -/- The soul, then, thinks (νόει) in the same way: whenever it focuses on what is shined upon by truth and being, understands (ἐνόησέν), knows (ἔγνω) and apparently possesses understanding (νοῦν ἔχειν). (508d4-6) -/- Socrates does not use agathon in this paragraph and substitutes it with both aletheia and to on. He links them with the Idea of the Good when he is to assert the conclusion of the analogy: -/- That which gives truth to the objects of knowledge and the power of knowing to the knower, you must say, is the Idea of the Good: being the cause of knowledge and truth (αἰτίαν δ᾽ ἐπιστήμης οὖσαν καὶ ἀληθείας) so far as it is known (ὡς γιγνωσκομένης μὲν διανοοῦ). (508e1-4) Knowledge and truth are called goodlike (ἀγαθοειδῆ) since they are not the same as the Good but more honoured (508e6-509a5). KG, which had been implicitly contemplated and searched in Phaedo, is now explicitly being asserted in Republic. As what was quoted clearly proves, this principle is the very one which we can observe as the most fundamental principle of the second Socrates in Republic, corresponding to the role KWX had in the first Socrates. The Form of the Good in Republic, of which Santas speaks as 'the centerpiece of the canonical Platonism of the middle dialogues, the centerpiece of Plato’s metaphysics, epistemology, ethics and …' (1983, 256) much more can be said. Plato’s Cave allegory in Book VIII dedicates a similar role to the Idea of the Good. The Idea of the Good is there as the last thing to be seen in the knowable realm, something so important that its seeing equals to understanding the fact that it is the cause of all that is correct and beautiful (517b). Producing both light and its source in visible realm, it controls and provides truth and understanding in the intelligible realm (517c). -/- 2. Tripartite Epistemology BE is thoroughy rejected in the second Socrates and substituted by its opposite, the principle of 'Tripartite Epistemolgy' (TE): -/- TE Opinion is an epistemological status between knowledge and ignorance. BE of the first Socrates was denying any third way besides knowledge and ignorance which was the foundation of Socratic circle without which Socrates could not reject his interlocutors’ possessing any kind of knowledge. We cannot say, however, that the first Socrates had a third epistemological status in mind but rejected it. Such a status was unacceptable for him so that one can say that he would reject any kind of such status if suggested. There were only two possibilities about knowledge: either one knows something or he does not know it. TE, thus, was not the first Socrates’ discovery and, I think it is not the second Socrates’discovery. All we can see in our second group of dialouges is that he uses this principle as an already demonstrated one. Having examined the slave boy in Meno for the prupose of showing the working of recollection, it truns out that he has some opinions in him while he still does not know. Without trying to prove it, Socrates takes this as the distinction between knowledge and opinion: -/- So, he who does not know (οὐκ εἰδότι) about what he does not know (περὶ ὧν ἂν μὴ εἰδῇ) has within himself true opinions (ἀληθεῖς δόξαι) about the same things he did not know (περὶ τούτων ὧν οὐκ οἶδε) (85c6-7). -/- The same distinction is set between ὀρθὴν δόξαν and ἐπιστήμην at 97b5-6 ff. (also cf. 97b1-2: ὀρθῶς μὲν δοξάζων … ἐπιστάμενος). He connects then their difference to the myth of Daedalus, the statue that would run away and escape. So are true opinions, not willing to remain long in mind and thus not worthy until one ties them down by αἰτίας λογισμῷ (98a3-4). Socrates says that this tying down is anamnesis. We face, in Phaedo, the same relation is settled between knowledge as the process of being tied down and getting the capability to give an account, on the one hand, and anamnesis, on the other hand. When a man knows, he must be able to give an account of what he knows (Phaedo 76b5-6) and since not all people are able to give such an account, those who recollect, recollect what once they learned (76c4). Although the distinction between knowledge and opinion is not explicitly used in Phaedo, referring to the parallel link between knowledge plus account and anamnesis in Phaedo and Meno, one can say that those who cannot recollect are not able to give account and, thus, are in a state of opinion. What is said at Phaedo 84a, though not yet a definite distinction between knowledge and opinion, makes a distinction between their objects so as we can agree that it is presupposed. The soul of the philosopher, Socrates says, follows reason, stays with it forever and contemplates the divine, which is not the object of opinoin (ἀδόξαστον) (84a8, cf. Meno 98b2-5). The distinction of knowledge and belief in Republic has a significant difference with what we discussed in Meno and Phaedo since the distinction of Meno was based on anamnesis and thus more an epistemological distinction. Even in Phaedo that we do not have any elaborate discussion about the distinction, the only hint to the matter at 76 is bound to the theory of anamnesis. In addition to the relation of the distinction with this theory, there is another evidence that does not permit us to consider the distinction as an ontological distinction. Let’s see Meno 85c6-7: -/- So, he who does not know about what he does not know has within himself true opinions about the same things he did not know (τῷ οὐκ εἰδότι ἄρα περὶ ὧν ἂν μὴ εἰδῇ ἔνεισιν ἀληθεῖς δόξαι περὶ τούτων ὧν οὐκ οἶδε). (85c6-7) -/- This last sentence persists that the objects of knowledge and true opinion are the same. What Socrates is to say here is that whereas he does not know X he has true opinion about the same X. I think Socrates’ sentence that the slave boy οὐκ εἰδότι ἄρα περὶ ὧν ἂν μὴ εἰδῇ and his restatement of it by saying περὶ τούτων ὧν οὐκ οἶδε is because he wants to emphasize that the slave boy who does not know, has true opinion about the same thing. Socrates could say this just with using τούτων and there would be no necessity to bring περὶ ὧν ἂν μὴ εἰδῇ for οὐκ εἰδότι if he did not want to emphasize. -/- 3. Tripartite Ontology The distinction between knowledge and true opinion in Republic, on other side, has nothing to do with recollection, but is based on an ontological principle, 'Tripartite Ontology' (TO): -/- TO There are things that both are and are not. -/- This principle I confine, among our three dialogues of the second group, to Republic not extended to Meno and Phaedo, is obviously the opposite of BO. Speaking about the lovers of sights and sounds in the fifth book, Socrates distinguishes them from philosophers because their thought is unable to understand the nature of beautiful itself besides beautiful things (476a6-8) and hence they can only have opinions. The philosopher who, on the contrary, believes in beautiful itself and can distinguish it from beautiful things (476c9-d3), has knowledge because he knows, contrasting others who have opinion because they only opine (d5-6). Since those whose knowledge were degraded as opinion will complain about Socrates’ such calling their thought, he provides them the following argument (476e7-477b1): -/- - Does the person who knows, knows (γιγνώσκει) something (τὶ) or nothing (οὐδέν)? - He knows something (τί). - Something that is (ὂν) or is not (οὐκ ὄν)? - Something that is (ὂν) for how could something that is not be known (πῶς γὰρ ἂν μὴ ὄν γέ τι γνωσθείη)? - Then we have an adequate grasp of this: No matter how many ways we examine it, what completely is (παντελῶς ὂν) is completely knowable (παντελῶς γνωστόν) and what is in no way (μὴ ὂν δὲ μηδαμῇ) is in every way unknowable (πάντῃ ἄγνωστον). - A most adequate one. - Good. Now, if anything is such as to be and also not to be (ὡς εἶναί τε καὶ μὴ εἶναι), won’t it be intermediate (μεταξὺ) between what purely is (εἰλικρινῶς ὄντος) and what in no way is (μηδαμῇ ὄντος)? - Yes, it’s intermediate. - Then as knowledge (γνῶσις) is set over what is (τῷ ὄντι), while ignorance (ἀγνωσία) is of necessity set over what is not (μὴ ὄντι) mustn’t we find an intermediate between ignorance (ἀγνοίας) and knowledge (ἐπιστήμης) to be set over the intermediate, if there is such a thing? -/- From the third status of being we must reach to the third status of knowledge. The simple reading of this text can be an existential reading, taking the "is" of the mentioned sentences as existence. The problem is that when it is said that there is something that both is and is not reading "is" existentially, it sounds too bizarre to be acceptable. It cannot easily be understandable to have something as both existent and non-existent at the same time. This problem arose so many debates and led many scholars to reject the existential reading of "is" and suggest some other readings like predicative or veridical readings. I think though Plato’s complicated ontology of Republic cannot be correctly understood by a simple existential reading, this "is" cannot be free from existential sense of being and, thus, cannot be reduced to just a predicative or veridical sense of being. -/- 4. Bound Knowledges In addition to KG, the Good is also the basis of another principle in the second Socrates, namely the principle of 'Bound Knowledge' (BK): -/- BK Knowledge of everything is bound to the knowledge of the Good. -/- We distinguished BK from KG because we want to insist, in BK, on what had not been insisted upon in KG, that is, the binding role that the Good plays in the second Socrates, contrasting the absence of such a role in the first Socrates. Socrates remembers, in Phaedo, his wonderful keen on natural philosophers' wisdom when he was young. The origin of this enthusiasm was Socrates’ hope to know the cause of everything as they used to claim. When he was searching the matters of his interest on their basis, Socrates says, he became convinced he can get no acceptable answer from them and found himself blind even to the things he thought he knew before. One day he hears Anaxagoras’ theory that 'it is Mind that arranges and is the cause of everything (ὡς ἄρα νοῦς ἐστιν ὁ διακοσμῶν τε καὶ πάντων αἴτιος)' (Phd. 97c1-2 cf. DK, Fr.15.8-9, 11-12, 12-14) and thinks that he can finally find what he has always expected, i.e. something which can explain all things. What I intend to show here is that what makes Socrates hopeful is that Anaxagoras’ theory tries 1) to explain all things by one thing and 2) this explanation is understood by Socrates as if it is based on the concept of the Good. That Socrates was searching for one explanation for all things can be proved even from what he has been expecting from natural philosophers. The case is, nonetheless, more clearly asserted when he speaks about Anaxagoras’ theory. In addition to διακοσμῶν τε καὶ πάντων αἴτιος of 97c2 mentioned above, we have τὸ τὸν νοῦν εἶναι πάντων αἴτιον (c3-4) and τόν γε νοῦν κοσμοῦντα πάντα κοσμεῖν (c4-5) all emphasizing on the cause of all things (πάντα) which can clearly prove that one of the reasons which caused Socrates to embrace it delightfully was its claim to provide the cause of all things by one thing. Another reason was that Anaxagoras’ Mind, at least in Socrates’ view, was attempting to explain everything by the concept of the Good. This connection between Mind and Good belongs more to the essential relation they have in Socrates’ thinking than Anaxagoras’ theory because there are almost nothing about such a relation in Anaxagoras. The reason for Socrates’ reading can be that Mind is substantially compatible with Socrates’ idea of the relation between good and knowledge. Both the thesis 'no one does wrong willingly' and the theory of virtue as knowledge we pointed to above are evidences of this essential relation. Nobody who knows that something is bad can choose or do it as bad. The reason, when it is reason, that means when it is as it should be, when it is wise or when it knows, works only based on good-choosing. In this context, when Socrates hears that Mind is considered as the cause of everything, it sounds to him like this: good should be regarded as the basis of the explanation of all things. We see him, thus, passing from the former to the latter without any proof. This is done in the second sentence after introducing Mind: -/- I thought that if this were so, the arranging Mind would arrange all things and put each thing in the way that was Best (ὅπῃ ἂν βέλτιστα ἔχῃ). If one then wished to find the cause of each thing by which it either perishes or exists, one needs to find what is the best way (βέλτιστον αὐτῷ ἐστιν) for it to be, or to be acted upon, or to act. On these premises then it befitted a man to investigate only, about this and other things, what is the most excellent (ἄριστον) and best (βέλτιστον). The same man must inevitably also know what is worse (χεῖρον), for that is part of the same knowledge. (97c4-d5) This passage is a good evidence of Socrates’ leap from Anaxagoras’ Mind to his own concept of the Good that can explain why Socrates found Anaxagoras theory after his own heart (97d7). Mind is welcomed because of its capability for explanation on the basis of good to 'explain why it is so of necessity, saying which is better (ἄμεινον), and that it was better (ἄμεινον) to be so' (97e1-3). What Socrates thought he had found in Anaxagoras can indicate what he had been expecting from natural scientists before. Socrates could not be satisfied with their explanations because they were unable to explain how it is the best for everything to be as it is. It can probably be said, then, that it was the lack of the unifying Good in their explanation that had disappointed him. We must insist that we are discussing what Socrates thought that Anaxagoras’ theory of Mind should have been, not about Anaxagoras’ actual way of using Mind. Phaedo 97c-98b, is not about what Socrates found in Anaxagoras but what he thought he could find in it. On the contrary, it should also be noted that it was not this that was dashed at 98b, but Anaxagoras’ actual way of using Mind. It was Anaxagoras’ fault not to find out how to use such an excellent thesis (98b8-c2, cf. 98e-99b). Socrates gives an example to show how not believing in 'good' as the basis of explanation makes people be wanderers between different unreal explanations of a thing. His words δέον συνδεῖν (binding that binds together) as a description for the Good we chose as the name of BK principle: They do not believe that the truly good and binding binds and holds them together (ὡς ἀληθῶς τὸ ἀγαθὸν καὶ δέον συνδεῖν καὶ συνέχειν οὐδὲν οἴονται). (99c5-6) -/- Having in mind Plato’s well-known analogy of the sun and the Good at Republic 508-509, we can dare to say that his warning of the danger of seeing the truth directly like one watching an eclipse of the sun in Phaedo (99d-e) is more about the difficulty of so-called good-based explanation than its insufficiency, a difficulty which is precisely confirmed in Republic (504e-505a, 506d-e). Moreover, BK is asserted in a more explicit way in the Republic, where the Good is considered not only as a condition for the knowledge of X, as was noted above discussing KG, but also as what binds all the objects of knowledge and also the soul in its knowing them. At Republic VI, 508e1-3, when Socrates says that the Form of the Good 'gives truth to the things known and the power to know to the knower (τοῦτο τοίνυν τὸ τὴν ἀλήθειαν παρέχον τοῖς γιγνωσκομένοις καὶ τῷ γιγνώσκοντι τὴν δύναμιν ἀποδιδὸν)', he wants to set the Good at the highest point of his epistemological structure by which all the elements of this structure are bound. This binding aspect of the Good is by no means a simple binding of all knowledges or all the objects of knowledge, but the most complicated kind of binding as it is expected from the author of the Republic. The kind of unity the Good gives to the different knowledges of different things is comparable with the unity which each Form gives to its participants in Republic: as all the participants of a Form are united by referring to the ideas, all different kinds of knowledge are united by referring to the Good. If we observe Aristotle's assertion that for Plato and the believers of Forms, the causative relation of the One with the Forms is the same as that of the Forms with particulars (e.g. Metaphysics 988a10-11, 988b4), that is to say the One is the essence (e.g., ibid, 988a10-11: τοῦ τί ἐστὶν, 988b4-6: τὸ τί ἢν εἶναί) of the Forms besides his statement that for them One is the Good (e.g., ibid, 988b11-13) the relation between the Good and unity may become more understandable. Since the quiddity of the Good (τί ποτ᾽ ἐστὶ τἀγαθὸν) is more than discussion (506d8-e2), we cannot await Socrates to tell us how this binding role is played. All we can expect is to hear from him an analogy by which this unifying role is envisaged, the sun. The kind of unity that the Good gives to the knowledge and its objects in the intelligible realm is comparable to the unity that the sun gives to the sight and its objects in the visible realm (508b-c). The allegory of Line (Republic VI, 509d-511), like that of the Sun, tries to bind all various kinds of knowledges. The hierarchical model of the Line which encompasses all kinds of knowledge from imagination to understanding can clearly be considered as Plato’s effort to bind all kinds of knowledges by a certain unhypothetical principle. The method of hypothesis starts, in the first subsection of the intelligible realm, with a hypothesis that is not directed firstly to a principle but a conclusion (510b4-6). It proceeds, in the other subsection, to a 'principle which is not a hypothesis' (b7) and is called the 'unhypothetical principle of all things' (ἀνυποθέτου ἐπὶ τὴν τοῦ παντὸς ἀρχὴν) (511b6-7). This παντὸς must refer not only to the objects of the intelligible realm but to the sensible objects as well. Plato does posit, therefore, an epistemological principle for all things, a principle that all things are, epistemologically, bound and, thus, unified by. -/- 5. Bound Beings The ontological aspect of BK we shall call the principle of 'Bound Beings' (BB): -/- BB Being of all things are bound by the Good. -/- We saw in our principle of Split Being (SB) how the first Socrates was criticized because of his approach to split being and separate each thing from other things. The principle of Bound Beings intends to make the things more related, a duty which is done again by the Good. In the allegory of Sun, there are two paragraphs that evidently and deliberately extend the binding role of the Good to the ontological scene: -/- You will say that the sun not only makes the visible things have the ability of being seen but also coming to be, growth and nourishment. (509b2-4) -/- This clearly intends to remind the ontological role the sun plays in bringing to being all the sensible things in order to display how its counterpart has the same role in the intelligible realm (b6-10): -/- Not only the objects of knowledge (γιγνωσκομένοις) owe their being known (γιγνώσκεσθαι) to the Good, but also their existence (τὸ εἶναί) and their being (οὐσίαν) are due to it, though the Good is not being but superior to it in rank and power. That the Good is here represented as responsible for being of things in addition to their being known means, in my opinion, that Plato wants to posit BB in addition to BK. The allegory of Cave at the very beginning of the seventh Book (514aff.) can be taken as another evidence. The role of the Good, one might say, is confined to the intelligible realm because it is asserted that the role the Good plays in this realm is corresponding to that of the sun in the visible realm. The fact that Plato wants to observe the Good also as the ontological cause of the sensible things is obvious from his saying, in the allegory of Cave, that the Form of the Good 'produces light and its source (τὸν τούτου κύριον) [i.e. the sun] in the visible realm' (517c3). We can conclude, then, that the ontological function of the Good is not confined to the intelligible realm in which it is the lord and provides truth and understanding (c3-4) because it is also responsible to produce τὸν κύριον of light. 6. Proportionality of Being and Knowledge Insofaras BE and BO principles of the first Socrates gave way to TE and TO principles of the second Socrates, we cannot expect him to preserve KB in the same way as it was in the first Socrates. The new tripartite ontology and epistemology necessitates some modifications in KB which results in the principle of 'Proportionality of Being and Knowledge' (PBK): -/- PBK To every class of being there is a proportionate category of knowledge. -/- This principle, of course, does not entail the refutation of KB and thus is not kind of rejecting PBK but only a more complicated version of it. Based on PBK, we can still agree that knowledge is of being (KB) but the issue is that since none of the concepts of knowledge and being in the second Socrates are as simple as they were for the first Socrates, we need a more complicated principle for their relation here. Although from Meno 97a where the distinction of knowledge and true opinion is drawn out in the second group of the dialogues, we can expect a new relation, it is articulated in its most complete way in Republic and specifically in the allegory of Line. All the beings are divided there hierarchically to four classes, to each of them belongs a class of knowledge: imagination to images, belief to the sensible things (more correctly: the things of which they[in previous class] were images (ᾧ τοῦτο ἔοικεν)), thought to mathematical objects (?) and understanding to the Forms and the first principle. The degree of clarity that each of the classes of knowledge shares in (σαφηνείας ἡγησάμενος μετέχειν) is proportionate to the degree that its object shares in truth (ἀληθείας μετέχει). (511e2-4) -/- Conclusion From the six onto-epistemilogical principles of the first Socrates, four principles turn to their opposite in the middle period dialogues. While bipolar epistemology and ontology of the early dialogues give place to tripartite epistemology in the middle period dialogues and tripartite ontology in Republic, the split knowledge and being of the first Socrates are inclined to be substituted by bound knowledges and bound beings in the second Socrates and specifically in Republic. Not all our system of principles in this article is necessarily determinative. Either they are rightly formulated or not, our result would not be vulnerable if we accept that 1) making the distinction of knowledge and belief, 2) accepting the being of not being and 3) trying to bind both being and knowledge by the concept of the Good happens only in middle period dialogues, having been absent in the early ones. These are the favourite results all those somehow arbitrary and even oversimplified principles were to illustrate; that there is kind of a development in the epistemological as well as the ontological grounds of Plato’s philosophy. -/- Notes . (shrink)

CORCORAN REVIEWS THE 4 VOLUMES OF TARSKI’S COLLECTED PAPERS Alfred Tarski (1901--1983) is widely regarded as one of the two giants of twentieth-century logic and also as one of the four greatest logicians of all time (Aristotle, Frege and Gödel being the other three). Of the four, Tarski was the most prolific as a logician. The four volumes of his collected papers, which exclude most of his 19 monographs, span over 2500 pages. Aristotle's writings are comparable in volume, (...) but most of the Aristotelian corpus is not about logic, whereas virtually everything written by Tarski concerns logic more or less directly. There is no doubt that Tarski wrote more on logic than any other author; he started publishing on logic in 1921 at the age of 20 and continued until his death at the age of 82. (shrink)

The Catena aurea entium of Henry of Herford is part of the work of re-elaboration of Aristotle’s natural-philosophical corpus, which characterised the European intellectual environment in the Late Middle Ages. In the central books of his encyclopaedia, Henry comments on the works of natural philosophy of Albert the Great, placing himself in continuity with the cultural project started by Albert in Cologne. The present article aims to compare the 5th book of the Catena aurea entium, which consists of (...) a comment per modum quaestionis on the Meteora of Albert the Great, with some meteorological quaestiones composed between the 13th and 15th centuries. This analysis will lead me to grasp the philosophical orientations and interpretation of Henry and also his reception of Albert the Great’s meteorology. In the 5th book, Henry introduces an extensive medical section taken from the pseudo-Aristotelian Problemata, in which he applies the Galenic medical principles to meteorology. Besides, in the quaestio 105 (V 1 105), he interprets Albert through the theological-poetic explanation of ancient origins on the sacrality of the number three and an excerpt from the Liber proverbiorum. (shrink)

This book offers inter alia a systematic investigation of the actual argumentative strategy of Socratic conversation and explorations of Socratic and Platonic morality including an examination ofeudaimonia and the mental conception of health in the Republic as self-control, with a view to the relation of individual health/happiness to social order. The essays cover a period from 1968 to 2012. Some of them are now published for the first time. Self-motion in the later dialogues involves tripartition and tripartition in turn involves (...) embodiment. The Philebus psychology too anticipates Aristotle. The Forms of the Timaeus are patterns, but the two-world picture is abandoned: there is one world constituted by Forms and Place. The Epinomis is arguably genuine. More generally, denying that Plato develops, e.g. exegetically and psychologically, is absurd. There are too many contradictions in the Corpus. The dialogues are artistic wholes and the author's message must be interpreted accordingly: hence in a sense every character is Plato's mouthpiece. Aristotle's idea of the human good or quality of life as optimal mental activity according to the special human capabilities is the root of the modern selfactualization projects. Panaetius (free reason) and Posidonius (science) mark the end of the older Stoa's hard-core materialism and the beginning of a new more 'modern' era. -/- . (shrink)

At a distance of more ten years from publication (2000 French/2005 English translation), with this essay I will re-read, comment and discuss, in different way and in form of anthological sketch, the Derridean volume ‘On Touching-Jean Luc Nancy’, focusing in particular on its ‘tangents and its metonymies’, its manifold entanglements with the metaphysics of touch and bodily connections. Making use of the geometrical figure of the tangent, Derrida affirms that "[if] philosophy has touched the limit [my emphasis-J. D. ]. of (...) the ontology of subjectivity, this is because philosophy has been led to this limit”. To touch is to touch a limit, a limit without depth or surface. How have we regarded touching in the past? The body? My thesis is that if Derridean reflection remains mostly anchored to Jean-Luc Nancy’s Corpus, it is inspired nevertheless by a different deconstructive gesture/s similar to different geometric tangents (the deconstructive practice is similar to the tracing of many tangents). Discussing in particular Nancy’s Dis-Enclosure: The Deconstruction of Christianity, Derrida’essay ‘Deconstruction of Christianity’ and devoting an entire section of the book to the sense of touch in the Gospels, Derrida gives us numerous and special considerations on deconstruction and the deconstruction of touch in Christianity, admitting as well the enormity of this task. A reflection on the Kas Saghafi, “Safe, Intact”: Derrida, Nancy, and the “Deconstruction of Christianity” will follow in an exemplary way. Following a discussion of touch and the body in both animal and human spheres, in the closing section of the essay, I will comment on the Patrick Llored’s essay A Philosophy of Touching Between the Human and the Animal: The Animal Ethics of Jacques Derrida, recently published in A Companion to Derrida (2014). This study addresses highly topical questions such as: ‘What does it teach us about touch, but also about the body and the life of the animal? To what extent is it capable of renewing our knowledge [connaissance] of non-human life and of generating an animal ethics reconceived from top to bottom? If touching is coextensive with the living body, that implies not only that we place the haptical question at the centre of reflection on the animal, but also that we take into account the consequence that is most disruptive for us today (A Companion, p. 512). And conclude along with Patrick Llored that the question of touch promises to transform everything we have understood until now about animality. (shrink)

L'esistenza del commento di Alessandro di Afrodisia al De generatione aristotelico, perduto nella versione greca e nella traduzione araba, è attestata da numerose fonti arabe, tra le quali Averroè, nel suo commento alla stessa opera. L'A. rintraccia la presenza, la tipologia e la distribuzione delle citazioni tratte dal commento di Alessandro nel Kitab al-Tasrif, un'opera del corpus alchemico attribuita a Gabir ibn Hayyan. Secondo l'A., la sezione interessata dalle citazioni assembla tre diversi tipi di testi: 1) lemmi del De (...) generatione in traduzione araba; 2) frammenti lacunosi della traduzione araba del commento di Alessandro; 3) interventi di collegamento. Una più ampia discussione si trova in un saggio visibile sulla pagina "publicationslist" dell'autore: "Alessandro di Afrodisia sulle 'contrarietà tangibili' (De gen. et corr. II.2): fonti greche e arabe a confronto" in: Aristotele e Alessandro di Afrodisia nella tradizione araba, a c. di C. D'Ancona e G. Serra, “Il Poligrafo”, Padova 2002, pp. 151-189. Notasi che il testo ricostruito di Alessandro in GC 2.2-5 è stato pubblicato da E. Gannagé nella serie ACA, che però non menziona il contributo di SF, dalla cui iniziativa, dalle cui analisi e dalla cui ricostruzione integrale, svolta sul manoscritto arabo Paris. 5099, la ricerca prese l'avvio. (shrink)

SOCIOLOGIA DO TRABALHO: O CONCEITO DO TRABALHO DA ANTIGUIDADE AO SÉCULO XVI -/- SOCIOLOGY OF WORK: THE CONCEPT OF WORK OF ANTIQUITY FROM TO THE XVI CENTURY -/- RESUMO -/- Ao longo da história da humanidade, o trabalho figurou-se em distintas posições na sociedade. Na Grécia antiga era um assunto pouco, ou quase nada, discutido entre os cidadãos. Pensadores renomados de tal época, como Platão e Aristóteles, deixaram a discussão do trabalho para um último plano. Após várias transformações sociais entre (...) diferentes eras e povos, o trabalho foi ganhando espaço nos debates entre os povos, como os caldeus, hebreus e romanos. O trabalho conferiu-se no escopo da discussão social. Na Idade Média, com Agostinho, Santo Aquino e outros o labor foi concebido como algo benéfico e divino. O que se via como algo “escravo” ao povo, transformou-se em necessidade e benevolência divina. -/- Palavras-chave: Conceito; Trabalho; História; Definição. -/- ABSTRACT -/- Throughout the history of mankind, work has figured itself in different positions in society. In ancient Greece it was a little matter, or almost nothing, discussed among the citizens. Renowned thinkers of such a time, like Plato and Aristotle, left the discussion of the work for a last plan. After several social transformations between different eras and peoples, work was gaining space in the debates among peoples, such as the Chaldeans, Hebrews and Romans. The work has taken place within the scope of social discussion. In the Middle Ages, with Augustine, Saint Aquinas and others the work was conceived as something beneficial and divine. What was seen as something “slave” to the people, became need and divine benevolence. -/- Keywords: Concept; Work; History; Definition. -/- BASES TEMÁTICAS DESSE TRABALHO -/- ➢ O trabalho é um conceito construído socialmente; -/- ➢ A modernidade trouxe consigo mudanças significativas quanto à valorização do trabalho; -/- ➢ A origem dos mercados de trabalho, juntamente com o surgimento do capitalismo, minimizou o trabalho como um mero emprego assalariado; -/- ➢ O trabalho, no entanto, apresenta múltiplas manifestações nas nossas sociedades. -/- 1. A VISÃO GREGA DE TRABALHO -/- Comecemos pelos gregos, uma civilização excitante que, durante muitos séculos antes de Cristo, já começava a elaborar riquíssimas reflexões sobre vários aspectos da vida humana. No entanto, surpreende aqueles de nós que já ler os primeiros filósofos gregos, como entre tantas análises rigorosas e “diálogos”, um elemento tão central na vida social dos povos, como o trabalho havia tido escassa repercussão. A explicação só faz sentido, justamente, ao analisar a valorização que esses grandes pensadores tinham acerca do nosso objeto de estudo que é o trabalho. Embora, como supracitado, os gregos não tivessem uma visão unânime sobre o trabalho, não é menos certo assinalar que para esta civilização o trabalho foi considerado um fato altamente desvalorizado. O trabalho, para eles, dado a sua vinculação com a dimensão de constrangimento e necessidades, limitava a liberdade dos indivíduos, condição indispensável para integrar o mundo da “pólis” na qualidade de cidadão. O homem livre realizava atividades absolutamente desinteressadas: a atividade intelectual (que não era considerada trabalho) fazia parte do ócio e da contemplação. O trabalho, reservado apenas aos escravos, como bem sinala Hopenhayn (1955), significava uma mera função produtiva. Portanto, o escravo passou a ser unicamente uma força de trabalho. Como tal, ele não tem personalidade e pertence ao seu mestre, como uma coisa entre muitas. Como objeto de propriedade, escapa ao pensamento antropológico que domina a filosofia sofista e socrática, porque para o cidadão grego falar de escravo não implica um sujeito pensante, senão uma coisa ou, no máximo, a força. Também escapa ao pensamento platônico, porque, como uma coisa, parece totalmente desvalorizado na construção idealista-dualista da realidade (HOPENHAYN, 1988. p. 23 – Tradução própria). -/- Três termos fundamentais que devemos recordar da tradição grega: -/- 1 – Ponos: penalidade, fadiga; -/- 2 – Banausia: trabalho mecânico, e -/- 3 – Ergon: realização. -/- Vejamos como essa noção de trabalho é construída como algo servil (ponos), ao qual uma visão positiva de lazer e contemplação foram contrastadas como uma atividade puramente humana e libertadora. As raízes do supracitado são encontradas no valor eticamente supremo da autarquia socrática. Segundo essa noção alcunhada por Sócrates (469-399 a.C.), todo aquele que trabalha está submetido tanto à matéria como aos homens para quem trabalha. Nessa medida, sua vida carece de autonomia e, portanto, de valor moral. Naturalmente, não só os escravos, mas também qualquer trabalhador dedicado a todos os tipos de tarefas manuais, foram desprezados por um pensamento helênico indubitavelmente aristocrático. Para Platão (427-347 a.C.), de origem aristocrática, descendente do último rei de Atenas e discípulo de Sócrates, a autarquia continua a ser perpetrada como um valor ético supremo e, em consonância com os interesses da aristocracia fundiária, afirmava que somente a agricultura evocava autêntica autonomia. Dessa forma, o pensamento platônico restringiu a participação política a escravos, comerciantes e artesãos. Todos eles têm em comum a dependência das condições materiais em que produzem e trocam mercadorias. O plano político estará intimamente relacionado ao econômico-trabalhista: somente quem é capaz de governar a si mesmo (e como sabemos, acontece com aqueles que não trabalham ou possuem terras), pode governar os outros. Somente a liberação total da prática mundana do trabalho abre as possibilidades de dedicar-se, como fez Platão, à contemplação (σχολή), à filosofia e às ciências, e por meio disso saber distinguir o bem do mal, o justo do injusto, o verdadeiro do falso. Quem poderia dedicar-se a tais “tarefas nobres”? Evidentemente, aqueles que não precisam fazer parte da população trabalhadora, isto é, a aristocracia. Esse sistema de governo aristocrático foi defendido, obviamente, por Platão. Em sua “A República” sinala que o governo perfeito é o aristocrático, e que a este se sucedem a timocracia (governo dos guerreiros), a oligarquia (dos ricos) e a democracia (“governo daqueles que amam o prazer, a mudança e a liberdade), que perece por seus excessos nas mãos de alguns homem audaz que se coloca à frente do povo para defender a democracia e “do tronco desses protetores do povo nasce o tirano”, dando origem à tirania.(2) Em seu diálogo “Político” podemos ler: Aqueles que possuem a si mesmos através da compra, e aqueles que podem ser chamados sem nenhuma discussão de escravos, não participam da arte real [...] E todos aqueles que são livres, se dedicam espontaneamente a atividades servis como as supracitadas, transportando e trocando produtos da agricultura e de outras artes; que nos mercados, indo de cidade em cidade por mar e terra, trocando dinheiro por outras coisas ou por dinheiro, o que chamamos de banqueiros, comerciantes, marinheiros e revendedores, poderão, por acaso, reivindicar para eles algo da ciência política? [...], mas também aqueles que estão dispostos a prestar serviços a todos por salários ou por subsídios, nunca os encontramos participantes na arte de governar [...] Como os chamaremos? Como você acabou de dizer agora: servidores, mas não governantes dos estados (PLATÃO, 1983. pp. 237-8 – adaptado). Esse estado ideal que Platão projetou em seus ensinamentos estava longe, a propósito, da democracia ateniense defendida por Péricles. De certa forma, Platão só confiava em uma elite no poder constituída por uns poucos (oligarquia) que não deveriam se render às tarefas servis da produção e circulação das riquezas. Para ele, as crianças aristocráticas deveriam ser selecionadas desde a infância, recebendo uma educação suficiente tanto em filosofia quanto nas “artes da guerra”. Aos trinta anos, eles já seriam capazes de passar por um exame donde seriam selecionados os “filósofos-reis” encarregados do governo. De fato, no entanto, suas concepções de governo nunca poderiam ser executadas com pureza; ou pela chamada “contrarrevolução aristocrática”, ou pela invasão estrangeira subsequente. Essa visão do trabalho que estamos a analisar, como bem sinala Henri Arvon (1914- 1992), conduz a uma sociedade basicamente conservadora e estancada no produtivo. (3) A ideia de liberdade, ócio e contemplação como valores superiores, propõe um desprezo pelo trabalho que, como vimos, é uma atividade puramente transformadora. Há aqueles que, mediante tal contestação, arriscam fundamentar que grande parte do subdesenvolvimento tecnológico na Grécia derive justamente a essa cultura tão peculiar em relação ao trabalho. Caso contrário, se houvesse escravos, por que avançar em conhecimentos que facilitaram o trabalho? Não nos surpreende, nesse sentido, que uma civilização capaz de criar conhecimentos espetaculares em áreas particularmente complexas como a geometria (Euclides), por outro lado, não soubesse (ou não gostaria) de avançar em conhecimentos técnicos aplicáveis ao campo econômico-trabalhista. Já vimos como a cidadania era o escopo da de alguns aristocratas da civilização helênica. Hannah Arendt (1906-1975) sinalava que os gregos distinguiam entre os escravos, os inimigos vencidos (dmôes ou douloi) que estavam encarregados do trabalho doméstico, e os demiourgoi, homens livres para se deslocarem do domínio privado para o público. Somente depois do século V, sinala Arendt, a pólis começou a classificar as ocupações de acordo com os esforços que eles exigiam. Nisso, Aristóteles (384-322 a.C.) teve que desempenhar um papel preponderante que colocou aqueles cujo “corpo está mais deformado” na faixa mais baixa. Ele não admitiria, portanto, aos estrangeiros (os escravos), nem tampouco aos banausoi, antes dos demiourgoi, trabalhadores e artesãos que deviam resignar-se ao mundo dos “oikos”. Estes, não só estavam submetidos à necessidade como eram incapazes de ser livres, mas também incapazes de governar a parte “animal” do seu ser (República, 590). Serão eles, não obstante, aqueles que permitem o florescimento da chamada democracia helênica, pois, quem senão os trabalhadores (escravos ou artesãos) poderia manter com seu esforço o ócio e a contemplação dos “homens livres”, cidadãos do mundo? Como foi supracitado, será Aristóteles quem delimitará ainda mais os direitos de cidadania. Sua cidade ideal, como em Platão, diferenciaria os governantes dos governados. O primeiro, constituído pela classe militar, estadistas, magistrados e sacerdócio. O segundo, pelos agricultores, artesãos e os camponeses. Com os comerciantes há uma certa ambivalência: embora ele considerava uma ocupação antinatural, estava disposto a admiti-los até certo ponto em sua cidade ideal, cuja base seguiria sendo a escravidão. Em sua Política, ele explana: A cidade mais perfeita não fará do trabalhador manual (artesão) um cidadão. Caso o admitir como tal, a definição de virtude cívica [...] não alcança todos os cidadãos, nem apenas os homens livres, mas só os que estão isentos de trabalhos indispensáveis à sobrevivência. Destes, os que estão a serviço de um só indivíduo, são escravos; os que servem a comunidade, são trabalhadores manuais (artesãos) ou trabalhadores não qualificados (ARISTÓTELES, 1998. p. 203). Tampouco compreenderá os agricultores como reivindicava Platão: “Tampouco deverão ser agricultores os futuros cidadãos, pois para a formação de sua virtude e para a atividade política, o ócio é necessário”. Essa prolifera discussão ocorreu em uma civilização onde começaram a surgir as primeiras mudanças produtivas derivadas do crescimento econômico feito do descobrimento do ferro, e sua posterior divisão do trabalho, onde florescem os grupos de comerciantes e a aristocracia proprietária de terras começa a dominar. Os pensadores da época, mais aliados a estes últimos, contrariavam os princípios da acumulação comercial. Em sua Política, Aristóteles aconselha os cidadãos a absterem-se de qualquer profissão mecânica e de toda especulação mercantil. O primeiro, porque limita intelectualmente, e o segundo, porque degrada o ético. Somente o ócio (scholé), para esses pensadores, permite a virtuosidade e a capacidade de julgar. A Koinonia politiké (comunidade dos homens livres) era típica daqueles que não precisavam de trabalho, relegando a população trabalhadora ao mero âmbito da reprodução material (chrematistiké), o que só era possível em um contexto de alta divisão do trabalho onde um grupo minoritário (oligarquia) vivia à custa do trabalho da maioria (muitos deles escravos). O termo “ócio” provém de “scholé”, entendido entre os gregos como tempo para si mesmo, para a contemplação (sjolé) e, portanto, para a formação (scholé = escola). Desse ponto de vista, o ócio para os gregos é um fim em si mesmo. Entre os romanos, no entanto, adquire outra conotação. Em latim octium, designa o campo contraposto ao neo-octium (negócio), ou seja, é o tempo de descanso que permite dedicar-se ao negócio. Tal visão sobre o trabalho e o ócio, respectivamente, não foi, no entanto, como supracitado no início, unanimemente desenvolvida em toda a história da civilização helênica. Os textos de Homero(4) (séculos IX e VIII a.C.) são mais reservados a respeito, mas acima de tudo, na Grécia antiga encontramos autores como Hesíodo (século VIII), que postulavam outras teses. Para o autor de “Os trabalhos e os dias”, o trabalho se constituía em um justo e necessário castigo que Zeus impôs aos homens pelo pecado de Prometeu. Note a similitude com a crença bíblica que veremos adiante. Hesíodo explana: Lembre-se sempre do meu conselho e trabalhe [...] os deuses e os homens se indignam com quem ocioso vive, semelhante em caráter aos zangões sem ferrão, que consomem o esforço das abelhas [...] O trabalho não é nenhuma desonra; desonra é não trabalhar (HESÍODO, 2012. p. 93 e 95). Também entre alguns sofistas (aqueles que vendiam sua sabedoria a quem gostaria de comprá-la), como Protágoras (século V a.C.), “o primeiro e o maior deles”(5), coloca o estudo e a arte (técnica) na mesma faixa, e Antifonte (século V a.C.) disse: “[...] e as honras e preços, e toda a espécie de encorajamento que Deus incumbiu aos homens, devem necessariamente resultar de fadiga e suor”. Como conviveu a cultura grega com essas noções tão diferentes? Tenho a ideia, juntamente com Hopenhayn, que o desprezo dos pensadores gregos pelo manual foi causado pela violência dos guerreiros e dos aristocratas de plantão, que impuseram aos seja derrotados o jugo. Do trabalho árduo e difícil. Porque a aristocracia queria trabalhar nessas condições? A própria divisão do trabalho em si possibilitou o crescimento da civilização helênica, estava gerando diferentes classes com visões distintas sobre o trabalho. Por outro lado, surgiram os camponeses pobres, os derrotados e aqueles que tinham que viver do trabalho artesanal. Essas pessoas, na maioria das vezes isoladas do mundo da “polis”, gerariam suas próprias leituras dos acontecimentos, seus próprios espaços para o desenvolvimento cultural, inclusive sua própria religião, distante daquela imposta pela visão aristocrática, olímpica, contemplativa e estética dos “homens livres”. -/- 2. A VISÃO DOS CALDEUS ACERCA DO TRABALHO -/- A leitura de outros povos e civilizações sobre este tema tem sido diferente. Entre os caldeus, por exemplo, a visão pejorativa analisada entre os gregos não é registrada. Nas escrituras sagradas da religião de Zaratustra (o Avesta), lemos: “É um santo aquele que constrói uma casa, na qual mantém o fogo, o gado, sua mulher, seus filhos, os bons párias. Aquele que faz a terra produzir trigo, que cultiva os frutos do campo, cultiva corretamente a pureza” (HOPENHAYN, 1988. p. 35). Para os caldeus, como se pode observar, o trabalho implica, de uma posição diametralmente oposta à helênica, uma contribuição na ordem econômica, mas também na espiritual. Trabalhar não é só “cultivar o trigo” (dimensão das necessidades fisiológicas), mas também “cultivar a pureza”, dimensão esta, relacionada com a satisfação das necessidades espirituais. Por que apreciamos uma diferença tão acentuada entre essas culturas? Provavelmente, os diferentes graus de desenvolvimento dos povos levaram a isso. Enquanto entre os gregos primava uma divisão do trabalho, onde alguns tinham o status de “homens livres” dedicados à contemplação e ao ócio, outros não tinham escolha a não ser trabalhar, em uma situação de domínio em relação às naturezas daqueles que o empregaram. Esse não foi o caso dos caldeus, que possuía um escasso dividido trabalho, em que a todos se correspondia uma atividade laboriosa. -/- 3. A VISÃO DOS HEBREUS SOBRE O TRABALHO -/- No meio do caminho entre os caldeus e os gregos, encontramos a avaliação do trabalho feita pelos hebreus, dessa vez, tingindo de ambivalências. Tal como ponderava Hesíodo entre os gregos, para os hebreus, o trabalho se constituía de um mal necessário; em um meio para expiar os pecados; dessa vez não de Prometeu, mas de Adão e Eva. Vamos ver, no entanto, alguns aspectos mais complexos. A primeira coisa a se notar da perspectiva hebraica (compartilhada com o cristianismo) é o que se resulta da leitura do livro de Gênesis, aquela história poética e cheia de imagens para elucidar facilmente a origem da criação. Lá se estabelece a ideia de um deus criador-trabalhador: “No princípio Deus criou o céu e a terra [...] No sétimo dia Deus já havia concluído a obra que realizara, e nesse dia descansou [...] de toda a obra que realizara na criação”.(7) Esse Deus como primeira causa (São Tomás de Aquino (1225-1274)) denota laboriosidade seu correspondente descanso, um binômio que será fundamental para compreender a evolução do direito do trabalho e do direito ao descanso semanal contemporâneo. Digamos, em segundo lugar, que o Senhor Deus providenciou o trabalho no Éden: “O Senhor Deus colocou o homem no jardim do Éden para cuidar dele e cultivá-lo”.(8) Portanto, não é certa a ideia de que o trabalho é o resultado do pecado: ao contrário, é um trabalho árduo aquele que deriva do pecado segundo a tradição hebraico-cristã. Antes, na ausência do pecado, havia uma espécie de bom trabalho. Foi o pecado original, que levou Deus a condenar Adão e Eva, e por isso a toda a humanidade, a “ganhar o pão com o suor da sua testa”. “Por isso o Senhor Deus o mandou embora do jardim do Éden para cultivar o solo do qual fora tirado”. (9) O Talmude diz: “Se o homem não encontra seu alimento como animais e pássaros, precisa ganhá-los, isso se deve ao pecado”. Essa sentença, de caráter histórico, promove a ideia de trabalho como meio para expiar o pecado original, mas também como meio para produzir; isto é, legitimando a mudança inerente a todo trabalho e, portanto, legitimando também aquela vontade transformadora que caracterizou desde sempre os povos hebreus.(10) Agora, ao contrário dos caldeus, para os hebreus da antiguidade, o trabalho nunca teve um fim ético em si mesmo, mas foi constituído apenas como um meio. Essa visão esteve sempre presente, e caracteriza muito claramente a concepção que muitos integrantes de nossas sociedades contemporâneas possuem sobre o trabalho, além da religião de cada um. -/- 4. OS ROMANOS E O TRABALHO -/- Os romanos, por sua vez, deram uma importante contribuição para o desenvolvimento do conceito de trabalho. Se bem que, a grosso modo, não houvesse grandes diferenças com o pensamento dos gregos, com quem eles tinham em comum, além disso, uma maior divisão do trabalho fruto do desenvolvimento econômico e o uso massivo de mão de obra escrava(11); a maior contribuição do ponto de vista de sua originalidade histórica estava presente na tradição jurídica que inauguraria o Império Romano. O maior impacto por meios jurídicos e não filosóficos é explicado pelo fato de que os romanos, ao contrário dos gregos, não conseguiram “inspirar” a produção de grandes pensadores sociais. Com efeito, para os romanos, como o escravo não era considerado uma pessoa, o viam-no desprovido de personalidade jurídica. Isso conduziu a negação da relação de trabalho entre a pessoa encarregada de um trabalho manual (escravo) e seu dono. Tal relação correspondia, acima de tudo, ao direito de propriedade que os juristas romanos haviam garantido quase sem limites para seus cidadãos. O problema, como aponta Hopenhayn, surgiu quando o proprietário não ocupa seu escravo, mas aluga-o para terceiros. Surge assim a figura do arrendamento de serviços, que deriva do arrendamento das coisas. Porém, como na realidade o que se alugava era a força de trabalho, a qualidade jurídica desloca-se para a atividade realizada pelo escravo. Dessa forma, a atividade do trabalhador, primeiro do escravo, posteriormente do homem livre, começa a ser tratada como uma coisa, e se converte em antecedente do arrendamento de serviços do Direito Civil moderno. Ademais, na tradição romana, o trabalho manual estava desprestigiado. Cícero (106-43 a.C.) em De Officiis, estabeleceu com fria claridade “ipsa merces est auctoramentum servitius”(12) (todo trabalho assalariado é trabalho escravo). A vida era difícil para esses trabalhadores: nos territórios sob domínio romano, Augusto (63-14 a.C.) tinha imposto um tributo à todos os homens que exerciam algum tipo de trabalho manual, além do imposto à residência, às valas e outros mais particulares como o imposto para a detenção de porcos. Certamente, aqueles que levaram a pior parte no tempo da Roma Imperial foram os escravos (servi) sob domínio e propriedade de seus donos (domini). Me seus tempos de auge, a demanda de escravos em Roma era de 500.000 ao ano. Se compararmos com os 60.000 escravos negros trazidos a América nos anos de maior tráfico, teremos uma ideia mais ou menos exata da magnitude desse triste fenômeno. -/- 5. O CRISTIANISMO E O TRABALHO -/- As mensagens do cristianismo primitivo, são inseridas logo, nesse tempo histórico, onde Roma se tornava o centro das maiores mobilizações de rebeldia da antiguidade. Isaías, nesse sentido, proclamaria que o Messias viria: “[...] a pregar boas novas aos abatidos, a vendar aos quebrantados de coração, a publicar liberdade aos cativos, e aos presos a abertura do cárcere”.(13) Jesus, efetivamente, incluiu em sua missão, mensagens de libertação aos pobres e oprimidos. Porém, ao contrário do supracitado, como bem sinala Eric Roll (1907-2005), dos antigos profetas hebreus, não o faria saudando as comunidades tribais com seu espírito de grupo; mas animado por uma mensagem mais universal e permanente, proclamando uma mudança mais completa e integral na conduta do homem em sociedade, onde os valores de justiça e amor se colocariam em um primeiro plano. Evidentemente, a mensagem do cristianismo primitivo, e mais concretamente de Cristo, distava muito dos filósofos gregos. Deixemos que Roll explique: Temos visto que as doutrinas econômicas de Platão e, em certa medida, de Aristóteles, nasciam da aversão aristocrática ao desenvolvimento do comercialismo e da democracia. Seus ataques contra os males que acarreta o afã de acumular as riquezas são reacionárias: olham para trás, e o de Cristo olha para frente, pois exige uma mudança total, mas relações humanas. Aqueles sonhavam com um estado ideal destinado a proporcionar a “boa vida” para os cidadãos livres unicamente e cujas fronteiras eram as da cidade-estado daquele tempo; Cristo pretendeu falar por todos e para todos os homens. Platão e Aristóteles haviam justificado a escravidão; os ensinamentos de Cristo sobre a fraternidade entre todos os homens e o amor universal eram incompatíveis com a ideia da escravidão, apesar das opiniões expostas depois por São Tomás de Aquino. Os filósofos gregos, interessados somente pelos cidadãos, sustentaram opiniões muito rígidas sobre a diferente dignidade das classes de trabalho, e consideravam as ocupações servis, com exceção da agricultura, como próprias apenas para os escravos. Cristo, ao dirigir-se aos trabalhadores de seu tempo, proclamou pela primeira vez a dignidade de todas as classes de trabalho, assim materiais como espirituais (1942. p. 42 – Tradução própria). Não pode escapar desse estudo, o fato de que o próprio Jesus Cristo herdou o ofício de carpinteiro de seu “Pai” José; e que escolheu seus discípulos entre os pescadores e artesãos da região. Essa visão primitiva do cristianismo, no entanto, deve ser analisada no quadro das escrituras sagradas do Antigo Testamento que compartilha com a cultura (e obviamente a religião) hebraica. Nesse sentido, o trabalho não deixa de ser um meio, descartando-se como um fim em si mesmo. Mas, agora atribuindo-lhe um novo valor, sempre em tento um meio para um fim virtuoso: o trabalho será fundamental para permitir a satisfação das necessidades de cada um, mas também seus frutos, deverão ser inseridos em uma dimensão comunitária, onde o “próximo” necessitado esperará a contribuição fraterna e solidária do cristão. O trabalho, nessa perspectiva, não só possibilita o “tomar”, mas também o “dar”. Em relação a dupla perspectiva, é onde podemos entender a crítica do cristianismo a acumulação da riqueza. Como aponta o evangelista Mateus, “acumular o tesouro no céu, onde nem a traça nem a ferrugem os consomem, e onde os ladrões não perfuram nem roubam. Onde está o seu tesouro está seu coração”. (14) Com São Paulo se incorpora um novo componente valioso: a obrigatoriedade moral do trabalho. Em sua carta aos Tessalonicenses dita claramente “ao que não trabalha que não coma”. Diz São Paulo: Vocês sabem em que forma têm que nos imitar: nós trabalhamos enquanto estivemos entre vocês, não pedimos a ninguém um pão que não teríamos ganhado, senão que, de noite e dia, trabalhamos duramente até nos cansarmos, para não ser carga para nenhum de vocês [...] Além disso, quando estávamos com vocês lhes demos está regra: se alguém não quiser trabalhar, não coma. Mas agora ouvimos que há entre vocês alguns que vivem sem nenhuma disciplina e não fazem nada, muito ocupados em meter-se em tudo. A estes lhes mandamos e lhes rogamos, por Cristo Jesus, nosso Senhor, que trabalhem tranquilos para ganhar a vida (II Tes. 3:10). Essa frase, entendida somente no contexto de uma sociedade donde não existia um conceito de desemprego tal como entendemos atualmente, é curiosamente reproduzida pelo modelo soviético em pleno século XX. Com efeito, a Constituição da União Soviética estabeleceu em seu Artigo 12: “O trabalho é, na Rússia, uma questão de dever e de honra para todo cidadão fisicamente capaz. Essa obrigação é baseada no princípio: “quem não trabalha não come”. (15)(16) Para São Paulo, o trabalho deve ser o meio para ganhar a vida. Ele quis ser exemplo e enquanto pregava continuava trabalhando, presumivelmente como tecelão de tendas. A obrigatoriedade moral se aplica na medida em que a pessoa está em condições de o fazer. Para os incapacitados a fazê-lo (idosos, crianças, deficientes, doentes, acidentados etc.) existia a obrigatoriedade do socorro segundo a máxima do amor (ágape) ao próximo. Essas sentenças morais têm hoje em dia uma importante quota de explicação para com as contemporâneas políticas sociais. -/- 6. O TRABALHO NA IDADE MÉDIA -/- A Idade Média, período que ocupa desde o crepúsculo do Império Romano do Ocidente no século V pelos bárbaros, até o século XV, com a queda de Constantinopla, evidentemente mostra um conjunto importante de escolas e pensadores que marcaram pautas importantes para discernir o valor do trabalho nas diferentes culturas. A organização econômica mais visível nestes mil anos, onde operou o trabalho, consistia em extensões grandes de latifúndios errados do Império Romano (o sistema econômico denominado feudalismo), onde (mediante a falta de escravos) recorreu-se à mão de obra camponesa para o trabalho. O sistema, implicava o arrendamento de parte dessas terras a ex-escravos ou homens livres, em troca de uma renda em dinheiro e espécies, além do cultivo das próprias terras senhoriais. Por certo, a figura do servo não distava muito da do escravo se tivermos em conta as condições de funcionamento do contrato de trabalho. O comércio também teve seu lugar no sistema feudal, o mesmo adquiriu grande importância em certas regiões ou lugares, à exemplo de Constantinopla. A atividade econômica seguia seu rumo na história, e depois dos séculos IX e X, o crescimento das forças produtivas deu lugar a uma maior acumulação por parte de componentes e artesãos e, por certo, a uma maior apropriação de excedentes por parte do Senhor feudal. Essa situação foi ativante para a construção dos primeiros Burgos ou cidades, onde o comércio e a indústria artesanal teriam um marco mais adequado para o seu desenvolvimento. Essa é a etapa do nascimento dos primeiros grêmios corporativos (17). Então para o século XII, a estrutura feudal começa a desmoronar porque a produção de determinados bens começa a ser mais eficiente em cidades e não no feudo. O dinheiro, então, passou a ganhar maior peso que a terra, o que obriga os senhores feudais a aumentar seus rendimentos. Isso leva a um empobrecimento lógico dos camponeses, o que não dura muito, porque na primeira metade do século XIV, a maior parte dos servos alcança sua liberdade. Por sua vez, nessa apertada síntese da história econômica da Idade Média, devemos assinalar que pelo século XIV, e depois das Cruzadas e o posterior desenvolvimento do comércio internacional entre os impérios arábico e bizantino, inaugura-se uma etapa pré-capitalista que durará três séculos. É lá que se levanta mais energética a voz de alguns homens da Igreja contra a tendência à exaltação da riqueza já começava a avivar-se na Europa. São Tomás de Aquino, nesse sentido, não considerará ao comércio pré-capitalista bom ou natural. No entanto, ele o julgava inevitável uma vez que era o meio ao qual o comerciante tinha que manter a sua família. Dessa forma, os lucros do comércio não era outra coisa senão o fruto do trabalho. Se tratava, então, de colocar o acento na justiça da mudança efetuada, para o qual Aquino recorre a Aristóteles, cuja análise sobre o valor de mudança é figurado no seu estudo da Justiça. Muitos padres da Igreja, desde então, pretenderam formular um conceito de “preço justo”. Nesse sentido, o Cristianismo apresenta uma evolução do seu pensamento sobre o comércio que partia de uma visão absolutamente contrária ao começo da Idade Média (Santo Agostinho (354-430), São Jerônimo (347-420) etc.), a outra mais transacionável, que acompanhou, sobretudo, o pensamento de Aquino. Algo similar ocorreu com outro dos “preceitos” da Igreja em matéria econômica: a usura. Esta era considerada pela igreja como a melhor forma de obter lucro. O mesmo evangelista Lucas (século I d.C.) foi categórico ao rejeitar essa linha de operações. A lei hebraica também fez isso, e podemos encontrar no livro do Êxodo (22,25) tal proibição a respeito. Mais atrás no tempo, há antecedentes de condenação à usura entre os hindus (Rigveda, cerca de 1500 a.C.) e budistas (século VI d.C.), além do Islã mais próximo do nosso tempo (século VI d.C.). Ao princípio da Idade Média, como testemunha Roll, a proibição somente alcançava a Igreja, já que o escasso desenvolvimento mercantil não merecia outra coisa. No final da Idade Média, no entanto, que a situação é outra; e a prática secular foi orientada no sentido de promover o empréstimo de dinheiro cobrando por isso um juro. Alarmada ante esses fatos, a Igreja condena mais uma vez a usura no Terceiro Concílio de Latrão de 1179. No mesmo escreveu e ensinou São Tomé (século I d.C.) e outros discípulos da Igreja. No entanto, as práticas econômicas foram minando a autoridade eclesial e está terminou, através de sucessivas etapas, por aceitar, em certas condições e sob certas circunstâncias, a cobrança de juros sobre a concessão de um empréstimo. Em tal sentido, um dos autores mais representativos só início da Idade Média foi Santo Agostinho. Foi este um dos pilares, em seu tempo, das noções “anticapitalistas” que foram seguidas e complementadas por homens do tamanho de São João (347-407), São Ambrósio (340-397), São Clemente (150-215), São Cipriano (200-258) entre outros. (18) Santo Agostinho valoriza o trabalho recordando em tal sentido a São Paulo, a que cita com muita frequência em seus textos. Segundo o Bispo de Hipona, todo trabalho manual é bom pelas razões dadas pelo cristianismo primitivo. Concilia, além disso, seu dualismo platônico, ao sustentar que enquanto o homem trabalha tem a alma livre, de modo que é perfeitamente compatível pensar em Deus ao mesmo tempo em que se trabalha. Essa particular sintonia entre o trabalho e a oração foi perfeitamente posta a prova pelos monges beneditinos, cujo lema “Ora Et Labora” (orar e trabalhar) é paradigmático. “Trabalha e não desesperes” dizia seu fundador, São Bento de Núrsia (480-547), de seus monastérios distribuídos em um primeiro momento a Subiaco, no início do século VI. Também corresponde a São Bento uma sentença que perdura até o dia de hoje no imaginário moral sobre o trabalho: “Otiositas inimica est animae” (a ociosidade é inimiga da alma), tal qual diz uma expressão popular castelhana: “el ocio es la madre de todos los vicios” (o ócio é a mãe de todos os vícios). Tomás de Aquino, alguns séculos depois, continua a reflexão sobre o trabalho e estabelece uma hierarquia de profissões, onde localiza o trabalho agrícola e artesanal acima do comercial. Uma quota de originalidade na história do pensamento sobre o trabalho consistiu em considerá-lo como uma obrigação somente se necessário para subsistir; ou dito de outra maneira: quem não tem necessidade de trabalhar não tem que fazê-lo. Isso sim, à falta de trabalho, devia dedicar-se à oração e contemplação divina, atividades por certo mais elevadas para o autor da Suma Teológica. Logo, considerará que Deus é a causa primária, a que tudo deve a sua existência; por derivação, o homem é causa segunda, procurando atreves do trabalho “criar” em suas dimensões humanas. “Entre todas as formas com que a criatura humana tenta realizar a semelhança divina, não há outra de relevo mais destacado que a de trabalhar, isto é, ser em o mundo causa novos efeitos”, disse o Santo. (19) Aquino, além disso, utilizando categorias platônicas, hierarquiza o trabalho, considerando o intelectual acima do manual. Chama “artes servis” a estes últimos, enquanto que o trabalho intelectual corresponde ao conjunto das “artes liberais”, dignas de maior remuneração ao fazer uso da inteligência. Esta distinção própria da Escolástica, dá lugar à divisão clássica entre as 7 artes liberais: o Trívium (gramática, retórica e dialética) e quadrivium (astronomia, geometria, aritmética e música). Outras contribuições de São Aquino têm a ver com sua posição diante do trabalho agrícola ao qual o considera como o melhor meio para assegurar a subsistência de um povo; a maior importância dada à vida contemplativa sobre a ativa, embora considerando a primeira como “laboriosa”; sua posição sobre a escravidão, que não considerava como natural, no entanto, entendê-la “útil”(20); e sua interpretação sobre o contrato de trabalho: neste, o operário não vende a si mesmo, nem seu corpo, nem sua inteligência, nem sequer sua faculdade de trabalho. Isso significa que o Direito Natural proíbe considerar o trabalho como um objeto de mudança. Propõe, em vez disso, considerar o contrato como um arrendamento de serviço. Em termos gerais, a valorização que sobre o trabalho se realiza na Idade Média, rebaixando ao trabalho manual em relação a outras tarefas, fica explícita na divisão tripartida que recorre, entre outros, Adalberão Bispo de Laon (947-1030): “Triplex Dei ergo domus est quae Creditor uma nunca oran, alii pugnat, Aliique laborant” (ternária é a casa do Senhor e não uma: aqui sobre a terra uns oram, outros lutam e outros trabalham). Não gostaria de deixar passar por alto, finalmente, entre os movimentos originados na Idade Média, a contribuição que sobre o tema do trabalho teve a ordem franciscana. Essa, contra o que muitos podem crer, é uma ordem não mendicante no sentido estrito, mas sim trabalhadora e de pobreza. São Francisco de Assis (1181/82-1226), no final do século XII, marcaria como ninguém dentro do cristianismo, uma vida ascética baseada no trabalho e na pobreza. Inclui, além disso, um elemento pela primeira vez descoberto na cultura europeia: o sentido da alegria que acompanha o trabalho. “Essa condição de 'suor de sua testa' com 'a alegria de seu coração' outorga ao trabalho uma condição diferenciada”. Avançando então na história da humanidade, entramos na época moderna, caracterizada por cinco grandes eventos: -/- 1. A decadência do poder moral da Igreja e o enfraquecimento de seu poder econômico frente ao da crescente burguesia; -/- 2. O renascimento intelectual e artístico; -/- 3. As viagens paras as índias e a descoberta da América; -/- 4. A formação e a constituição dos Estados-nação; -/- 5. As reformas religiosas de Lutero (1483-1546) e Calvino (1509-1564). -/- Nesse contexto, os séculos XV e XVI mostraram como o mercantilismo ia avançando apesar dos esforços de alguns pensadores da Igreja que eventualmente perderam o pulso diante do desenrolar dos acontecimentos. Sucessivas encíclicas papais terminaram por legitimar o interesse nos empréstimos e, por meio desta, levou-se a maior acumulação de riquezas por parte dos banqueiros. Esse foi o meio ideal para o desenvolvimento da atividade do mercador, para quem, o trabalho passou a ser considerado um meio para obter sucesso. Ao dinamizar-se a atividade econômica e mercantil, a visão humanista do trabalho começa a perder valor, realçando-se ao mesmo como um simples meio para fins de enriquecimento. Talvez a exceção a essa noção estendida entre os novos atores tenha sido a proporcionada pelo humanismo renascentista. Para Campanella (1568-1639), por exemplo, sua “Cidade solar”, não existe o divórcio entre trabalho manual e intelectual, isso quando o segundo começa a ser supervalorizado por sua ação no plano das invenções e das novas técnicas.(22) Na mesma linha se situa Thomas More (1478-1535), o autor de “Utopia”, outra reação do cristianismo às projeções que estava adquirindo o cada vez mais influente mercantilismo. Embora o trabalho não seja considerado como um mau, pelo contrário, apresenta características humanizadoras, é sugestivo comprovar como em Utopia a jornada do trabalho não supera as seis horas diárias e na Cidade solar não se devia trabalhar mais que quatro horas. Indubitavelmente, essas versões de sociedades ideais terminariam por impactar sobre maneira a constituição das Missões Jesuítas na América do Sul; e as Franciscanas na Baixa Califórnia. É o Renascimento, o lugar propício, além disso, para renovar o conceito da virtuosidade, agora traduzida na figura do empresário ou financista audacioso e empreendedor. Essa linha foi reforçada logo por Calvino, para quem os negócios são um bom serviço a Deus, e a riqueza não é mais que um fruto de uma vida dedicada ao trabalho desde uma perspectiva ética que analisarei com Weber mais tarde, mas que confere ao trabalho a particularidade de ser um caminho para o sucesso. Esse puritanismo impulsionou sobremaneira a versão do “homo economicus” que mais tarde, em pleno auge do capitalismo pós-industrial, ao qual, segundo Daniel Bell (1919-2011), fora substituído pelos valores hedonistas. -/- REFERENCIAL TEÓRICO AGOSTINHO. Cidade de Deus: contra os pagãos. Trad. O. P. Leme. 2ª ed. Bragança Paulista: Editora Universitária, 2008. (Col. Pensamento humano). _____________. O livre-arbítrio. Trad. N. A. Oliveira. 1ª ed. São Paulo: Paulus, 1995. AQUINO, T. de. Suma Teológica. 2ª ed. São Paulo: Loyola, 2001. ARENDT, H. A condição humana. Trad. Roberto Raposo. Posfácio de Celso Lafer. 10ª ed. Rio de Janeiro: Forense Universitária, 2007. ARISTÓTELES. Política. Trad. A. C. Amaral e Carlos Gomes. 1ª ed. Lisboa: Vega, 1998. ARVON, H. A filosofia do trabalho. Trad. João Carlos Cunha. 1ª ed. Lisboa: Socicultur, 1961. AUGUSTI, J. C. W. Corpus Librorum symbolicorum. 1ª ed. Elberfeldi, 1827. BAVA, A. C. Introdução a sociologia do trabalho. 1ª ed. São Paulo: Ática, 1990. BÍBLIA SAGRADA. Trad. J. F. Almeida. Rio de Janeiro: King Cross, 2008. BOMENY, H. et al. Tempos modernos, tempos de sociologia. 2ª ed. São Paulo: Editora do Brasil, 2013. CAMUS, A. O mito de Sísifo. In: FALABRETTI, E.; OLIVEIRA, J. Filosofia: o livro das perguntas. 1ª ed. Curitiba: IESDE, 2011. ELDERS, L. J. O Pensamento de Santo Tomás de Aquino sobre o Trabalho. Trad. D. N. Pêcego. Aquinat, n° 9, (2009), 2-12. ISBN 1808-5733. FOSSIER, R. O trabalho na Idade Média. Trad. Marcelo Barreiro. 1ª ed. Petrópolis: Vozes, 2019. FRIEDMANN, G.; NAVILLE, P. Tratado de Sociologia do Trabalho. 1ª ed. São Paulo: Cultrix, 1973. HERZOG, J. S. Historia del pensamiento económico-social: de la antigüedad al siglo XVI. 4ª ed. México: FCE, 1939. HOPENHAYN, M. El Trabajo, itinerario de um concepto. 1ª ed. Santiago: PET, 1988. _________________. Repensar el trabajo – Historia, profusión y perspectivas de un concepto. 1ª ed. Buenos Aires: Norma, 2001. LUDWIG, E. Stalin. 1ª ed. Rio de Janeiro: Calvino, 1943. MACHADO, I. J. de R.; AMORIM, H. J. D.; BARROS, C. R. de. Sociologia hoje. 1ª ed. São Paulo: Ática, 2013. MERCURE, D.; SPURK, J. (Orgs.). O Trabalho na história do pensamento Ocidental. Petrópolis: Vozes, 2005. NOGUERA, J. A. El concepto de trabajo y la teoría social crítica. Barcelona: Papers, 2002. O'CONNOR, D. J. Historia crítica de la filosofía occidental. Tomo I – La filosofía en la antigüidad. 1ª ed. Buenos Aires: Paidós, 1967. OLIVEIRA, P. S. de. Introdução a sociologia. 24ª ed. São Paulo: Ática, 2001. PLATÃO. A República. 2ª ed. São Paulo: Martin Claret, 2000. (Col. A obra-prima de cada autor). _______. Político. Trad. J. C. de Souza, J. Paleikat e J. C. Costa. 2ª ed. São Paulo: Abril Cultural, 1983. (Col. Os Pensadores). ROLL, E. Historia de las doctrinas económicas. 1ª ed. México: FCE, 1942. SIMÓN, Y. R. Work, society and culture. 1ª ed. Nova Iorque: Fordham University Press, 1971. SILVA, A. et al. Sociologia em movimento. 2ª ed. São Paulo: Moderna, 2016. THE ZONDERVAN CORPORATION (Ed.). A História – a bíblia contada como uma só história do começo ao fim. Trad. Fabiano Morais. 1ª ed. Rio de Janeiro: Sextante, 2012. (shrink)

Alfred Tarski (1901--1983) is widely regarded as one of the two giants of twentieth-century logic and also as one of the four greatest logicians of all time (Aristotle, Frege and Gödel being the other three). Of the four, Tarski was the most prolific as a logician. The four volumes of his collected papers, which exclude most of his 19 monographs, span over 2500 pages. Aristotle's writings are comparable in volume, but most of the Aristotelian corpus is not (...) about logic, whereas virtually everything written by Tarski concerns logic more or less directly. There is no doubt that Tarski wrote more on logic than any other author; he started publishing on logic in 1921 at the age of 20 and continued until his death at the age of 82. Two of his works appeared posthumously [Hist. Philos. Logic 7 (1986), no. 2, 143--154; MR0868748 (88b:03010); Tarski and Givant, A formalization of set theory without variables, Amer. Math. Soc., Providence, RI, 1987; MR0920815 (89g:03012)]. Tarski's voluminous writings were widely scattered in numerous journals, some quite rare. It has been extremely difficult to study the development of Tarski's thought and to trace the interconnections and interdependence of his various papers. Thanks to the present collection all this has changed, and it is likely that the increased accessibility of Tarski's papers will have the effect of increasing Tarski's already enormous influence. (shrink)

Este artículo constituye un comentario a Peri Hermeneias 16a 4-9 y a otros pasajes del corpus aristotélico concernientes a las relaciones entre lenguaje y pensamiento, así como a las consecuencias que estas relaciones puedan tener en tomo al problema de la representación lingüística del mundo. En la primera parte el A. sostiene, en confrontación con la interpretación de Max Black, que la distinción aristotélica entre, de un lado, lenguaje oral y escrito, y del otro, afecciones del alma, es nominal (...) y no real, lo cual conduce a replantear el tema del realismo en Aristóteles. En la parte final del artículo se analiza las relaciones en el texto mencionado del Peri Hermeneias. Tales relaciones sugieren entender la representación lingüística del mundo no como mero reflejo, sino como un acto de interpretación y, en consecuencia, de atribución de significado, lo que constituye propiamente la naturaleza apofántica del logos. (shrink)

Hynek Bartos does the field of ancient philosophy a great service by detailing the influence of early Greek thinkers (such as Heraclitus, Empedocles, Anaxagoras, Democritus, and Diogenes of Apollonia) on the Hippocratic work On Regimen, and by demonstrating that work’s innovative engagement with contemporary scientific and philosophical concepts as well as its direct influence on Plato and Aristotle. His study usefully counteracts the lamentable tendency among ancient philosophers to ignore or downplay the influence of medical literature on philosophy in (...) general, and to heap scorn on this text in particular, which Kirk, Raven, and Schofield considered ‘an eclectic and very superficial quasi- philosophical treatise’ and Barnes famously called ‘a silly farrago of ill-digested Presocratic opinions’. (shrink)

A new translation and edition of Aristotle's Protrepticus (with critical comments on the fragments) -/- Welcome -/- The Protrepticus was an early work of Aristotle, written while he was still a member of Plato's Academy, but it soon became one of the most famous works in the whole history of philosophy. Unfortunately it was not directly copied in the middle ages and so did not survive in its own manuscript tradition. But substantial fragments of it have been preserved (...) in several works by Iamblichus of Chalcis, a third century A.D. neo-Pythagorean philosopher and educator. On the basis of a close study of Iamblichus' extensive use and excerption of Aristotle's Protrepticus, it is possible to reconstruct the backbone of the lost work, and then to flesh it out with the other surviving reports about the work from antiquity (for example in Alexander of Aphrodisias and other ancient commentators on Aristotle). It is also possible to identify several papyrus fragments of the work, and many references and literary allusions in later authors, especially Cicero, whose own lost dialogue Hortensius was a defense of philosophy modeleld on Aristotle's. (shrink)