Shortages of new therapeutics to treat coronavirus disease (COVID-19) have forced clinicians, public health officials, and health systems to grapple with difficult questions about how to fairly allocate potentially life-saving treatments when there are not enough for all patients in need (1). Shortages have occurred with remdesivir, tocilizumab, monoclonal antibodies, and the oral antiviral Paxlovid (2) -/- Ensuring equitable allocation is especially important in light of the disproportionate burden experienced during the COVID-19 pandemic by disadvantaged groups, including Black, Hispanic/Latino and (...) Indigenous communities, individuals with certain disabilities, and low-income persons. However, many health systems have resorted to first-come, first-served approaches to allocation, which tend to disadvantage individuals with barriers in access to care (3). There is mounting evidence of racial, ethnic, and socioeconomic disparities in access to medications for COVID-19 (4, 5). -/- One potential method to promote equitable allocation is to use a weighted lottery, which is an allocation strategy that gives all eligible patients a chance to receive the scarce treatment while also allowing the assignment of higher or lower chances according to other ethical considerations (6). We sought to assess the feasibility of implementing a weighted lottery to allocate scarce COVID-19 medications in a large U.S. health system and to determine whether the weighted lottery promotes equitable allocation. (shrink)

In recent years, philosophers have identified a number of moral and psychological harms associated with the attention economy (Alysworth & Castro, 2021; Castro & Pham, 2020; Williams, 2018). Missing from many of these accounts of the attention economy, however, is what exactly attention is. As a result of this neglect of the cognitive science of attention, many of these accounts are not empirically credible. They rely on oversimplified and unsophisticated accounts of not only attention, but self- control, and addiction as (...) well. Of note are accounts of the attention economy that rely on the ‘brain disease’ rhetoric of addiction and subsequent control failures (Aylsworth & Castro, 2021; Bhargava & Velasquez, 2021), accounts that rely on a strict dichotomy of top-down vs. bottom-up attention (Williams, 2018; Aylsworth & Castro, 2021), and accounts that construe attention as a limited resource (Williams, 2018). -/- Drawing on recent work from the neuroscience and psychology of attention, I demonstrate the shortcomings of these accounts and sketch a way forward for an empirically grounded account of the attention economy. These accounts tend to uphold strict dichotomies of voluntary control (e.g., compulsion versus choice, dual-process models of self-control, and top-down versus bottom-up) that cannot account for the complexities of attentional control, mental agency, and decision-making. As such, these empirically and conceptually impoverished accounts cannot adequately address the current so-called crisis of attention. To better understand the harms associated with the attention economy, we need an empirically responsible account of the nature and function of attention and mental agency. (shrink)

In this chapter I seek to examine the credibility of Finnis’s basic stance on Aquinas that while many neo-Thomists are meta-ethically naturalistic in their understanding of natural law theory (for example, Heinrich Rommen, Henry Veatch, Ralph McInerny, Russell Hittinger, Benedict Ashley and Anthony Lisska), Aquinas’s own meta-ethical framework avoids the “pitfall” of naturalism. On examination, the short of it is that I find Finnis’s account (while adroit) wanting in the interpretation stakes vis-à-vis other accounts of Aquinas’s meta-ethical foundationalism. I think (...) that the neo-Thomists are basically right to argue that for Aquinas we cannot really understand objective truths about moral standards unless we derive them from our intellective knowledge of natural facts as given to us by the essential human nature that we have. While I find Finnis’s interpretative position on Aquinas wanting, I go on to argue that his own attachment to non-naturalism is justified and should not be jettisoned. Because I think non-naturalism important to the future tenability of a viable natural law ethics (an ethics that is both cognitive and objectivist), I argue that Finnis should, so to speak, “beef up” his “fundamental option” for non-naturalism and more fully avail himself of certain argumentative strategies available in its defense, argumentative strategies that are inspired by the analytical philosophy of G.E. Moore. (shrink)

Quantum mechanics, like any physical theory, comes equipped with many metaphysical assumptions and implications. The line between metaphysics and physics is often blurry, but as a rough guide, one can think of a theory’s metaphysics as those foundational assumptions made in its interpretation that are not usually directly tested in experiment. In classical mechanics some examples of possible metaphysical assumptions are the claims that forces are real, that inertial mass is primitive, and that space is substantival. The distinctive feature of (...) these claims is that they are all rather far removed from ordinary tests of the theory. Newton defended all three of the above claims at one time or other, whereas Mach attacked each one; however, both scientists agreed on enough of the formalism and its connection to experiment to predict (e.g.) the same periods for given pendulums. What they disagreed about were the ingredients necessary to use classical mechanics to explain and understand the world. (shrink)

In the introduction I argue that the basic element (or primitive) for constructing the physical universe is "displacement from a prior level", and the basic structure is "a sequence of such displacements" (summarized as postulates 1 and 2). The displacements are then defined as one-dimensional objects with a direction (postulate 3). The relations between these displacements are stated in postulate 4. In section 2 we discuss basic consequences of the postulates, and in section 3 we use the postulates to derive (...) a (3+1)-dimensional structure, interpreted as ordinary space and time. We then derive further properties of space --- isotropy, homogeneity, and a rapid early expansion (i.e. inflation). Time, comporting with experience, is shown to be a one-dimensional stream --- with a direction. In section 4 we associate energy with the displacements, and find that the same factors that construct ordinary space (and make it isotropic and homogeneous) also smear the locations of entities/particles across that space --- thereby providing a mechanism/explanation for that iconic and enigmatic aspect of quantum mechanics. We also determine that there must be a continual, uniformly-distributed stream of (non-zero-point) energy coming into the system that constructs new space (i.e. dark energy). The streaming natures of both time and dark energy are shown to have the same basic cause: the processes that input dark energy into the system, and that construct time, are themselves independent of time --- and so they are continual processes. Further consequences follow from the model, including an explanation for why the presence of energy affects space and time, and why quantum vacuum energy is an exception to this rule (i.e. does not gravitate) --- thereby eliminating the cosmological constant problem. A key benefit of the model is that it liberates us from always having to think about the construction of the universe in terms of spatio-temporal relations and evolution (e.g. the big bang model), which is problematic because presumably (and as we will indeed see) space and time are products of the fundamental construction process, not things that govern it. (shrink)

Public health care interventions—regarding vaccination, obesity, and HIV, for example—standardly take the form of information dissemination across a community. But information networks can vary importantly between different ethnic communities, as can levels of trust in information from different sources. We use data from the Greater Pittsburgh Random Household Health Survey to construct models of information networks for White and Black communities--models which reflect the degree of information contact between individuals, with degrees of trust in information from various sources correlated (...) with positions in that social network. With simple assumptions regarding belief change and social reinforcement, we use those modeled networks to build dynamic agent-based models of how information can be expected to flow and how beliefs can be expected to change across each community. With contrasting information from governmental and religious sources, the results show importantly different dynamic patterns of belief polarization within the two communities. (shrink)

Four initial postulates are presented (with two more added later), which state that construction of the physical universe proceeds from a sequence of discrete steps or "projections" --- a process that yields a sequence of discrete levels (labeled 0, 1, 2, 3, 4). At or above level 2 the model yields a (3+1)-dimensional structure, which is interpreted as ordinary space and time. As a result, time does not exist below level 2 of the system, and thus the quantum of action, (...) h, which depends on time (since its unit is time•energy), also does not exist below level 2. This implies that the quantum of action is not fundamental, and thus e.g. that the physical universe cannot have originated from a quantum fluctuation. When the gravitational interaction for the model is developed, it is seen that the basic ingredient for gravity is already operating at level 1 of the system, which implies that gravity, too, is not fundamentally quantum mechanical (since, as stated, h only kicks in at level 2) --- perhaps obviating the need for a quantum theory of gravity. Further arguments along this line lead to the conclusion that quantum fluctuations cannot be a source of gravity, and thus cannot contribute to the cosmological constant --- thereby averting the cosmological constant problem. Along the way, the model also provides explanations for dark energy, the beginning and ending of inflation, quark confinement, and more. Although the model dethrones the quantum, it nevertheless elevates an idea in physics that was engendered by quantum mechanics: the necessary role of "observers" in constructing the world. (shrink)

This paper proposes to reorient the philosophical debate about peer disagreement. The problem of peer disagreement is normally seen as a problem about the extent to which disagreement provides one with evidence against one's own conclusions. It is thus regarded as a problem for individual inquiry. But things look different in more collaborative contexts. Ethical norms relevant to those contexts make a difference to the epistemology. In particular, we argue that a norm of mutual answerability applies to us when we (...) engage in shared inquiry with others, and precludes us from treating one another's conflicting judgments as evidence relevant to the dispute. From this it follows that standard philosophical accounts of peer disagreement—e.g., the Equal Weight View and the Total Evidence View—presuppose that the disagreeing parties are in a sense alienated from one another. It's doubtful that such forms of alienated disagreement should be treated as the central case. (shrink)

This paper examines the debate between permissive and impermissive forms of Bayesianism. It briefly discusses some considerations that might be offered by both sides of the debate, and then replies to some new arguments in favor of impermissivism offered by Roger White. First, it argues that White’s (Oxford studies in epistemology, vol 3. Oxford University Press, Oxford, pp 161–186, 2010) defense of Indifference Principles is unsuccessful. Second, it contends that White’s (Philos Perspect 19:445–459, 2005) arguments against permissive (...) views do not succeed. (shrink)

Evidential Uniqueness is the thesis that, for any batch of evidence, there’s a unique doxastic state that a subject with that evidence should have. One of the most common kinds of objections to views that violate Evidential Uniqueness are arbitrariness objections – objections to the effect that views that don’t satisfy Evidential Uniqueness lead to unacceptable arbitrariness. The goal of this paper is to examine a variety of arbitrariness objections that have appeared in the literature, and to assess the extent (...) to which these objections bolster the case for Evidential Uniqueness. After examining a number of different arbitrariness objections, I’ll conclude that, by and large, these objections do little to bolster the case for Evidential Uniqueness. (shrink)

Abstract. Richard Feldman’s Uniqueness Thesis holds that “a body of evidence justifies at most one proposition out of a competing set of proposi- tions”. The opposing position, permissivism, allows distinct rational agents to adopt differing attitudes towards a proposition given the same body of evidence. We assess various motivations that have been offered for Uniqueness, including: concerns about achieving consensus, a strong form of evidentialism, worries about epistemically arbitrary influences on belief, a focus on truth-conduciveness, and consequences for peer disagreement. (...) We argue that each of these motivations either misunderstands the commitments of permissivism or is question-begging. Better understanding permissivism makes it a much more plausible position. (shrink)

Review of Craig And Mroeland: *Naturalism: A Critical Analysis*.

Narrator Ron Howard tells us that Arrested Development is the “story of a wealthy family who lost everything, and the one son who had no choice but to keep them all together.” The cult-classic follows Michael Bluth – the middle son of an inept, philandering, corrupt real-estate developer, George Bluth Sr., who is arrested for white-collar crimes. Constantly faced with crises created by his eccentric family, Michael does his best to preserve the family business, put out fires, and serve (...) as a role model for his teenage son, George Michael. The Bluths’ misadventures raise the question, what, if anything, do adult children owe their parents? This chapter explores the relationships between the members of the Bluth family and argues that Arrested Development makes the case that, insofar as adult children “owe” their parents anything, such an obligation is grounded in a sense of friendship – a voluntarily entered relation that can be terminated at any time. As a result, Arrested Development challenges the often-unquestioned assumption that children owe their parents special consideration simply in virtue of the parent-child relationship. (shrink)

Arguably the biggest challenge in analyzing English tense is to account for the double access interpretation, which arises when a present tensed verb is embedded under a past attitude—e.g., "John said that Mary is pregnant". Present-under-past does not always result in a felicitous utterance, however—cf. "John believed that Mary is pregnant". While such oddity has been noted, the contrast has never been explained. In fact, English grammars and manuals generally prohibit present-under-past. Work on double access, on the other hand, has (...) either disregarded the oddity (e.g., Abusch 1997: 39) or treated it as a reflex of a particular dialect (e.g., Kratzer 1998: 14). The goal of the paper is to argue—based on a corpus study—that a present-under-past sentence is grammatical, but modulated by two, interacting pragmatic phenomena: cessation and parentheticality. (shrink)

This article is a rebuttal to Robert G. Cavin and Carlos A. Colombetti’s article, “Assessing the Resurrection Hypothesis: Problems with Craig’s Inference to the Best Explanation,” which argues that the Standard Model of current particle physics entails that non-physical things (like a supernatural God or a supernaturally resurrected body) can have no causal contact with the physical universe. As such, they argue that William Lane Craig’s resurrection hypothesis is not only incompatible with the notion of Jesus physically appearing (...) to the disciples, but the resurrection hypothesis is significantly limited in both its explanatory scope and explanatory power. This article seeks to demonstrate why their use of the Standard Model does not logically entail a rejection of the physical resurrection of Jesus when considering the scope and limitations of science itself. (shrink)

The distinctive experiences of multiracial people have been underexplored in philosophy. For instance, it is not uncommon for a multiracial person to anticipate or encounter racial denials. A racial denial occurs when a person’s assertion of their racial identity, e.g. “I am Black,” is challenged or called into doubt. While monoracial individuals can generally assert their race without being challenged (e.g. “I am Black” or “I am White”), a multiracial person may be met with the rejoinder, “You aren’t really (...) Black” or “You aren’t really White.” Utilizing Miranda Fricker’s work on epistemic injustice, this essay argues that some racial denials arise because our existing racial vocabulary has gaps, and that these gaps can be traced to unjust origins. Ultimately, this essay’s aim is threefold. First, it aims to understand the nature of racial denials. Second, it demonstrates that attending to the lives multiracial people can yield important insights into race and epistemic injustice. Third, by focusing on multiracial experience, this essay aims to redress — in a limited way — the marginalization of multiracial lives within philosophical theory. (shrink)

This paper concerns the Black Box. It is not the engineer’s black box that can be opened to reveal its mechanism, but rather one whose operations are inferred through input from (and output to) a companion observer. We are observers ourselves, and we attempt to understand minds through interactions with their host organisms. To this end, Ranulph Glanville followed W. Ross Ashby in elaborating the Black Box. The Black Box and its observer together form a system having different properties than (...) either component alone, making it a greater Black Box to any further-external observer. How far into this greater box can a further-external observer probe? The answer is crucial to understanding Black Boxes, and so an answer is offered here. It employs von Foerster’s machines, abstract entities having mechano-electrical bases, just like putative Black Boxes. Von Foerster follows Turing, Ashby, E. F. Moore, and G. H. Mealy in recognizing archetype machines that he calls trivial (predictable) and non-trivial (non-predictable). It is argued here that non-trivial machines are the only true Black Boxes. But non-trivial machines can be concatenated from trivial machines. Hence, the utter core of any greater Black Box (a non-trivial machine) may involve two (or more) White Boxes (trivial machines). This is how an unpredictable thing emerges from predictable parts. Interactions of White Boxes—of trivial machines—may be the ultimate source of the mind. Keywords: . (shrink)

Susan Neiman pointed out to this reviewer the danger that Carl Jung studies pose to contemporary scholars. It is keeping in mind Neiman's cautionary advice that this review establishes Jung's contributions to Romanticism. "[Craig] Stephenson’s analysis of Aurélia has now superseded Arthur Lovejoy’s (1873–1962) and Mario Praz’s (1896–1982) contributions to the definitions of Romanticism.".

The dispute about the role of class in understanding the life situations of people of color has tended to be overpolarized, between a class reductionism and an “it's only race” position. Class processes shape racial groups’ life situations. Race and class are also distinct axes of injustice; but class injustice informs racial injustice. Some aspects of racial injustice can be expressed only in concepts associated with class (e.g., material deprivation, inferior education). But other aspects of racial injustice or other harms, (...) such as racial discrimination or stigma, are not reducible to class concepts and cannot be fully addressed through class-focused policies. Overall, any attempt to fully secure racial justice for a racial group will require a combination of race-focused and class-focused policies. Anti-racist outlooks often neglect or downplay either the normative or the explanatory significance of class, or both—for example, by overlooking or downplaying the dignitary harms of class and the material harms of race; missing the historical dimension of class injustice; masking class by a narrowing of the complex normative structure of racial disparities; or not recognizing that a class-focused initiative (like raising the minimum wage) can address substantial racial justice concerns, even though not all of them. “Systemic racism” terminology recognizes class explanatorily but suppresses it normatively. Charles Mills's influential notion of “white supremacy,” while a powerful tool for conceptualizing and illuminating racial injustice, can also contribute to minimizing or masking the justice-related impact of class, as do some of Mills's specific discussions of class in various writings. (shrink)

Hume discusses the distinction of reason to explain how we distinguish things inseparable, and so identical, e.g., the color and figure of a white globe. He says we note the respect in which the globe is similar to a white cube and dissimilar to a black sphere, and the respect in which it is dissimilar to the first and similar to the second. Unfortunately, Hume takes these differing respects of resemblance to be identical with the white globe (...) itself. Contradiction results, undermining his theory of abstraction. The way out is apparently to admit an intrinsic complexity in even simple things. (shrink)

Critical race theorists and standpoint epistemologists argue that agents who are members of dominant social groups are often in a state of ignorance about the extent of their social dominance, where this ignorance is explained by these agents' membership in a socially dominant group (e.g., Mills 2007). To illustrate this claim bluntly, it is argued: 1) that many white men do not know the extent of their social dominance, 2) that they remain ignorant as to the extent of their (...) dominant social position even where this information is freely attainable, and 3) that this ignorance is due in part to the fact that they are white men. We argue that on Buchak's (2010, 2013) model of risk averse instrumental rationality, ignorance of one's privileges can be rational. This argument yields a new account of elite-group ignorance, why it may occur, and how it might be alleviated. (shrink)

On June 26, 2000, President Clinton, together with Francis Collins and Craig Venter, solemnly announced, from the East Room of the White House, that the grand effort to sequence the human genome, the Human Genome Project (HGP), was rapidly nearing its completion. Symbolism abounded. The event was framed as a crucial marker in the history of both humanity and knowledge by explicitly connecting the completion of the HGP with a number of already acknowledged and established scientific highlights. Tensions (...) abounded as well, however, notably between competing metaphors. In the course of the HGP, metaphors had become crucially important in framing and conveying what the HGP was really about. They had proved themselves to be of key importance when it came to defining and explaining the project’s significance for both science and society. Powerful images and metaphors had been deployed in order to secure unprecedented amounts of funding, on the one hand by comparing the HGP to other big technoscientific projects such as space travel, high energy physics, the atomic bomb and a territorial mapping exercise, and on the other hand through the suggestion that, once we have our “blueprint”, “code of codes”, “parts list”, etc. available, cancer genes will no longer have a place to hide. This article sets out to analyze this clash of metaphors, firmly embedded within the HGP but culminating at the press conference, arguing that the June 2000 event is even reminiscent of a somewhat similar event, depicted by a famous altarpiece, ‘The adoration of the Lamb’, on display in Ghent Cathedral and finished more than five centuries before. (shrink)

Social psychologists often describe “implicit” racial biases as entirely unconscious, and as mere associations between groups and traits, which lack intentional content, e.g., we associate “black” and “athletic” in much the same way we associate “salt” and “pepper.” However, recent empirical evidence consistently suggests that individuals are aware of their implicit biases, albeit in partial, inarticulate, or even distorted ways. Moreover, evidence suggests that implicit biases are not “dumb” semantic associations, but instead reflect our skillful, norm-sensitive, and embodied engagement with (...) social reality. This essay draws on phenomenological and hermeneutic methods and concepts to better understand what social-psychological research has begun to reveal about the conscious access individuals have to their own racial attitudes, as well as the intentional contents of the attitudes themselves. -/- First, I argue that implicit racial biases form part of the “background” of social experience. That is, while they exert a pervasive influence on our perceptions, judgments, and actions, they are frequently felt but not noticed, or noticed but misinterpreted. Second, I argue that our unreflective racial attitudes are neither mere associations nor fully articulated, propositionally structured beliefs or emotions. Their intentional contents are fundamentally indeterminate. For example, when a white person experiences a “gut feeling” of discomfort during an interaction with a black person, there is a question about the meaning or nature of that discomfort. Is it a fear of black people? Is it anxiety about appearing racist? There is, I argue, no general, determinate answer to such questions. The contents of our unreflective racial attitudes are fundamentally vague and open-ended, although I explain how they nevertheless take on particular shapes and implications—that is, their content can become determinate—depending on context, social meaning, and structural power relations. (If, for example, a perceived authority figure, such as a politician, parent, or scientist, encourages you to believe that your uncomfortable gut feeling is a justified fear of other social groups, then that is what your gut feeling is likely to become.). (shrink)

Even if our justified beliefs are closed under known entailment, there may still be instances of transmission failure. Transmission failure occurs when P entails Q, but a subject cannot acquire a justified belief that Q by deducing it from P. Paradigm cases of transmission failure involve inferences from mundane beliefs (e.g., that the wall in front of you is red) to the denials of skeptical hypotheses relative to those beliefs (e.g., that the wall in front of you is not (...) class='Hi'>white and lit by red lights). According to the Bayesian explanation, transmission failure occurs when (i) the subject’s belief that P is based on E, and (ii) P(Q|E) P(Q). No modifications of the Bayesian explanation are capable of accommodating such cases, so the explanation must be rejected as inadequate. Alternative explanations employing simple subjunctive conditionals are fully capable of capturing all of the paradigm cases, as well as those missed by the Bayesian explanation. (shrink)

The market failures approach to business ethics has recently garnered substantial critical attention (see, e.g., Cohen and Peterson 2019; Moriarty 2020; Steinberg 2017; Hsieh 2017; von Kriegstein 2016; Smith 2018; Endorfer and Larue 2022; Singer 2018). Though precursors of this view can be found in the literature (e.g., McMahon 1981; Friedman 1970), it was Joseph Heath (2004, 2006, 2014, 2023) who developed the approach and gave it its name. The market failures approach (henceforth: MFA) is concerned with the ethical obligations (...) of managers of firms (Heath 2014, 69). Roughly, it holds that managers ought not to conduct their businesses in a way that exploits market failures. “Market failure” is a technical term, meaning any failure of the conditions of the first fundamental welfare theorem, sometimes called the “Pareto conditions” (see Arrow 1951). The theorem states that if the Pareto conditions hold, then the market equilibrium will use society’s scarce resources efficiently, meaning that no one could be made better-off without making anyone else worse off. Efficiency, according to Heath (2014, chapter 7), is the implicit morality of the market. We coordinate much of our shared activity using markets, Heath claims, because of their ability to produce efficient results. Markets are good forms of social organization, according to Heath, because they are the best way to promote our values given empirical facts about the frailties of human psychology and the informational constraints that we face. As such, managers ought not compromise the very conditions that justify a market economy by profiting from breakdowns in the market’s efficiency. Managers are permitted to maximize profits, so long as they do not violate the market’s norm of efficiency in so doing. This is because the fundamental justification for the profit motive is that it is necessary for the operation of the price system which is essential to the efficiency properties of markets. In this paper, I will argue that the MFA is more general than even Heath himself claims. The MFA describes the professional obligations of managers, but the view I develop, the generalized market failures approach, describes the obligations of all market participants. Since efficiency is the implicit morality of the market, it binds not just managers, but all market participants, including consumers, investors and workers. Market participants are permitted to maximize the benefit they gain from market interactions, as long as they do so in a way that does not take advantage of any market failures. Generalizing the MFA in this way has three benefits: first, we gain a unified understanding of the ethics of non-managerial market roles; second, we will develop an even better understanding of the duties of managers; finally, it gives us the resources to respond to some familiar objections to the MFA found in the literature. In the next section, I will further motivate the MFA and explain how this motivation can be easily generalized to other market roles. Importantly, one can avoid benefiting from a market failure in two distinct ways: by avoiding transactions that exploit market failures or by transacting in such markets and then remediating the harm done, by compensating those negatively affected by the market failure. This section concludes by discussing how the remediation duties are to be split between the transacting parties and how to identify the parties to whom compensation is owed. In section 3, I use the tools of the generalized MFA to develop a unified ethics of consumption, investment and labor, respectively. This is the basis of a grand abductive argument for the generalized MFA. The view is strongly supported by the fact that it provides attractive and unifying explanations of our obligations in domains as variegated as carbon offsetting, CEO compensation, the reparations white Americans owe to black Americans and occupational licensure. Section 4 briefly concludes. (shrink)

This philosophical investigation interrogates the relationship between G.W.F. Hegel’s concept of the master-slave dialectic in The Phenomenology of Spirit and the critique and reformulation of it by Frantz Fanon in Black Skin, White Masks. As a means of contextualization and expansion of Hegel’s original textual account, I consider Susan Buck-Morss’ seminal defense through grounding the dialectic in Hegel’s possible historical knowledge of the Haitian Revolution. I maintain that despite a compelling picture, Buck-Morss’ insights are unable to fully vindicate Hegel (...) from the rebukes of Fanon, and as a result, Hegel’s phenomenology necessitates a concrete analysis of the actual conscious experiences of the racialized and colonized subject in order to realize its aims. In pursuit of this critical methodology, I develop the upshot and positive movement of Fanon’s critique through what I describe as a “phenomenology of flesh” in conversation with Maurice Merleau Ponty’s The Visible and the Invisible. (shrink)

Gender, race, and sexuality are not just identities; they are also systems of social organization – i.e., systems of privilege and oppression. This article addresses two main ways privilege and oppression (e.g., racism, misogyny, heteronormativity) are relevant topics in and for philosophical aesthetics: (i) the role of the aesthetic in privilege and oppression, and (ii) the role of philosophical aesthetics, as a discipline and a body of texts, in constructing and naturalizing relations of privilege and oppression (i.e., white heteropatriarchy). (...) The first part addresses how systems of privilege and oppression use the aesthetic. I will discuss various ways race, gender, and sexuality, as both embodied identities and broader social institutions, work with and through “the aesthetic”. The second part addresses racism and (hetero) sexism in the discipline of aesthetics. Both in its history and its present practice aesthetics’apparent neutrality on questions of privilege and oppression is actually evidence of its investment in systems of privilege and oppression. (shrink)

Rationalism, my target, says that in order to have perceptual knowledge, such as that your hand is making a fist, you must “antecedently” (or “independently”) know that skeptical scenarios don’t obtain, such as the skeptical scenario that you are in the Matrix. I motivate the specific form of Rationalism shared by, among others, White (Philos Stud 131:525–557, 2006) and Wright (Proc Aristot Soc Suppl Vol 78:167–212, 2004), which credits us with warrant to believe (or “accept”, in Wright’s terms) that (...) our senses are reliably veridical, where that warrant is one we enjoy by default, that is, without relying on any evidence or engaging in any positive argument. The problem with this form of Rationalism is that, even if you have default knowledge that your senses are reliable, this is not adequate to rule out every kind of skeptical scenario. The problem is created by one-off skeptical scenarios, scenarios that involve a highly reliable perceiver who, by a pure fluke, has a one-off, non-veridical experience. I claim you cannot infer that your present perceptual experience is veridical just on the basis of knowledge of your general reliability. More generally, if you infer that the present F is G, just on the basis of your knowledge that most Fs are Gs, this is what I call statistical inference, and, as I argue, statistical inference by itself does not generate knowledge. I defend this view of statistical inference against objections, including the objection that radical skepticism about our ordinary inductive knowledge will follow unless statistical inference generates knowledge. (shrink)

Many epistemologists hold that an agent can come to justifiably believe that p is true by seeing that it appears that p is true, without having any antecedent reason to believe that visual impressions are generally reliable. Certain reliabilists think this, at least if the agent’s vision is generally reliable. And it is a central tenet of dogmatism (as described by James Pryor) that this is possible. Against these positions it has been argued (e.g. by Stewart Cohen and Roger (...) class='Hi'>White) that this violates some principles from probabilistic learning theory. To see the problem, let’s note what the dogmatist thinks we can learn by paying attention to how things appear. (The reliabilist says the same things, but we’ll focus on the dogmatist.). (shrink)

In our initial paper discussing plausible steps toward workable warp drive machines. The following article express our view on this debate. While there are still objections toward existing warp drive proposals, such as by G. Landis, Harold White etc., because they are all based on GTR, nonetheless we think it is possible by starting to see if it is possible to deviate from Newton's third law. And we discuss possible a propulsion method based on negative masses, and discuss how (...) optical diameter drive can be first step for realistic lab-scale version of negative mass propulsion. (shrink)

The richness of the term “unsettling” has made it readily employable for phenomenological accounts of racism in philosophy of race literature; yet, the term has been left largely under-theorized. Here, I argue that unsettling encounters can be said to occur when the unfamiliar other has come into contact with the boundary of one’s existential home. For many white people, interracial interactions produce an (often unwarranted) feeling of physical danger, but as I hope to show, this habitual (mis)perception of such (...) encounters is not merely a conditioned response; it also functions to subvert situations that might unsettle white identifies partially constituted by phenomenological demarcations of space along racial lines. Drawing on empirical literature and recent developments in critical phenomenology, I suggest that by exercising habitual, racist gestures and perceptions, white people (mis)perceive ontological threats to their worldview—e.g., a bookish Black student or a masculine gay man—as ontically threatening so as to avoid the kind of work and existential anguish that altering one’s normative expectations would require. (shrink)

The notion that there exists a fundamental need to exert control over or to influence one’s environment has enjoyed a long history in psychology (e.g., DeCharms, 1968; Heider, 1958) and has stimulated considerable theoretical work. Such a need has been characterized by theorists at multiple levels of analysis. Control motivation, for example, has been characterized broadly in terms of proactive (White, 1959) or reactive (e.g., Abramson, Seligman, & Teasdale, 1978; Brehm, 1966; Brehm & Brehm, 1981) strivings for control over (...) general or specific (Brehm & Brehm, 1981) and central or peripheral outcomes (Thompson, 1993). Additionally, various types of control strategies used to gain or maintain a sense of personal control have been proposed (e.g., Averill, 1973; Heckhausen & Schulz, 1995; Rothbaum, Weisz, & Snyder, 1982; Thompson, 1981). Modes of control, for instance, have been categorized as either primary or secondary. Primary strategies involve direct action undertaken to produce desirable and avoid undesirable outcomes in the external world, whereas secondary strategies employ primarily cognitive processes undertaken to produce a change within the person. Recently, Heckhausen and Schulz (1995) have further delineated these primary and secondary forms of control according to whether they are based on veridical or illusory causal understandings of the world and whether they are functional or dysfunctional. While most control theorists view primary control as preferable to secondary control, the latter is viewed as critical in the process of adaptation to control failures and in the promotion of future primary control attempts. (shrink)

Though Jana Mohr Lone refers to children’s striving to wonder, to question, to figure out how the world works and where they fit as the “philosophical self,” like its parent discipline, it could be argued that the philosophical self is actually the “parent self,”—the wellspring of all the other aspects of personhood that we traditionally parse out, e.g., the intellectual, moral, social, and emotional selves. If that is the case, then to be blind to “The Philosophical Child,” the latter being (...) the title of Jana Mohr Lone’s book, is, in a sense then, to be blind to the child. Thus, though Mohr Lone says that the subject of her book is to assist parents in supporting the development of children’s philosophical selves, that claim may mask the gift that this lovely book can bring to the parent-child relationship if it is interpreted as helping children to become “smarty pants” in the sense of acquiring esoteric skills to excel in the ivory-tower discipline of academic philosophy. This is not the focus of this book. This is not an invitation to learn about the history of philosophy— about what some wise, usually white, usually men said about the fundamental questions that intrigue all humans. This is not an invitation to memorize and thus to sit in awe of what others think —as is too often the case in university classrooms. This book, rather, is a guide to how to actually philosophize—how to use questions to energetically and courageously make progress toward finding answers that one, through reflection, comes to believe are the best, given the reasons and evidence available. And to the degree that we and our children are successful, we give ourselves and our children the gift of continuously learning to become ever wiser. (shrink)

Investigators increasingly need high quality face photographs that they can use in service of their scholarly pursuits—whether serving as experimental stimuli or to benchmark face recognition algorithms. Up to now, an index of known face databases, their features, and how to access them has not been available. This absence has had at least two negative repercussions: First, without alternatives, some researchers may have used face databases that are widely known but not optimal for their research. Second, a reliance on databases (...) comprised only of young white faces will lead to science that isn't representative of all the people whose tax contributions, in many cases, make that research possible. The “Face Image Meta-Database” (fIMDb) provides researchers with the tools to find the face images best suited to their research, with filters to locate databases with people of a varied racial and ethnic backgrounds and ages. Problems of representation in face databases are not restricted to race and ethnicity or age – there is a dearth of databases with faces that have visible differences (e.g., scars, port wine stains, and cleft lip and palate). A well-characterized database is needed to support programmatic research into perceivers' attitudes, behaviors, and neural responses to anomalous faces. The “ChatLab Facial Anomaly Database” (CFAD) was constructed to fill this gap, with photographs of faces with visible differences of various types, etiologies, sizes, locations, and that depict individuals from various ethnic backgrounds and age groups. Both the fIMDb and CFAD are available from cliffordworkman[dot]com/resources/. (shrink)

The brain in its plasticity and inherent 'sociality' can be proclaimed and projected as a revolutionary organ. Far from the old reactions which opposed the authenticity of political theory and praxis to the dangerous naturalism of 'cognitive science' (with images of men in white coats, the RAND Corporation or military LSD experiments), recent decades have shown us some of the potentiality of the social brain (Vygotsky, and more recently Negri 1995 and Negri 2000, Virno 2001). Is the brain somehow (...) inherently a utopian topos? If in some earlier papers I sought to defend naturalism against these reactions, here I consider a new challenge: the recently emerged disciplines of neuronormativity, which seek in their own way to overcome the nature-normativity divide. This is the task of a materialist brain theory today. 1. The setup: horns of a dilemma There is a lingering zone of what one might think of as sore cognitive muscle tissue in the area of materialism. It is an area of both contested territory and in some cases, a kind of pathos of distance of the 'Ugh! Keep that thing away from me!' sort. I have in mind the combination of materialism as an emancipatory socio-political project (which need not be construed in strictly Marx-Engels terms, if we think of Lucretius et al.) and as a cold-hearted 'spontaneous philosophy of the men in white coats', e.g. nefarious neurophilosophers. Faced with this rather massive alternative, this choice between two projects, I have stubbornly been saying since some discussions with Negri in the late 90s. (shrink)

A collection of papers presented at the First International Summer Institute in Cognitive Science, University at Buffalo, July 1994, including the following papers: ** Topological Foundations of Cognitive Science, Barry Smith ** The Bounds of Axiomatisation, Graham White ** Rethinking Boundaries, Wojciech Zelaniec ** Sheaf Mereology and Space Cognition, Jean Petitot ** A Mereotopological Definition of 'Point', Carola Eschenbach ** Discreteness, Finiteness, and the Structure of Topological Spaces, Christopher Habel ** Mass Reference and the Geometry of Solids, Almerindo E. (...) Ojeda ** Defining a 'Doughnut' Made Difficult, N .M. Gotts ** A Theory of Spatial Regions with Indeterminate Boundaries, A.G. Cohn and N.M. Gotts ** Mereotopological Construction of Time from Events, Fabio Pianesi and Achille C. Varzi ** Computational Mereology: A Study of Part-of Relations for Multi-media Indexing, Wlodek Zadrozny and Michelle Kim. (shrink)

This chapter situates Karl Marx’s dissertation The Difference between the Democritean and Epicurean Philosophy of Nature (1841) within his intellectual biography. It explores the role of a German ideal known as Bildung, translated as “education”, “cultivation” or “culture”, within Marx’s classical education in the Gymnasium and the dissertation itself. Both Wilhelm von Humboldt, who reformed the Gymnasium curriculum prior to Marx’s attendance, and philosopher G.W.F. Hegel have classically inspired notions of Bildung. Each presents the white European man as the (...) model for this “education” or “cultivation”. This chapter argues that the dissertation assimilates Epicurus and his atom into this Eurocentric paradigm, with Marx taking for granted his predecessors’ racist teleology of history and applying their conception of the individual to the atom. Then, it addresses the dissertation’s influence in the development of historical materialism, a facet of Marxism already critiqued for its Eurocentrism. This chapter concludes by showing how non-White and non-Western Marxists have updated Marxist thought through constant critique of its Eurocentrism instead of abandoning its revolutionary vision. It suggests that Marxism is relevant to scholars of antiquity not because of the dissertation but the tradition’s self-interrogation of its foundational ideas and persistent focus on improving the conditions of the marginalised. (shrink)

In response to Stephen Davis’s criticism of our previous essay, we revisit and defend our arguments that the Resurrection hypothesis is logically incompatible with the Standard Model of particle physics—and thus is maximally implausible—and that it cannot explain the sensory experiences of the Risen Jesus attributed to various witnesses in the New Testament—and thus has low explanatory power. We also review Davis’s reply, noting that he evades our arguments, misstates their conclusions, and distracts the reader with irrelevancies regarding, e.g., what (...) natural laws are, what a miracle is, and how “naturalism” and “supernaturalism” differ as worldviews. Contrary to what Davis claims (even in his abstract), we do not argue that “if the Standard Model of particle physics is true, then the resurrection of Jesus did not occur and physical things can only causally interact with other physical things.” Davis distorts our claims and criticizes straw men of his own creation. (shrink)

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

Predication is a lingual relation. We have this relation when a term is said (λέγεται) of another term. This simple definition, however, is not Aristotle’s own definition. In fact, he does not define predication but attaches his almost in a new field used word κατηγορεῖσθαι to λέγεται. In a predication, something is said of another thing, or, more simply, we have ‘something of something’ (ἓν καθ᾿ ἑνὸς). (PsA. , A, 22, 83b17-18) Therefore, a relation in which two terms are posited (...) to each other in a way that one is said (predicated) of the other is a predication. The term of which the other term is said is called a subject (ὑποκειμένον) and the other, which is said about the subject, is called the predicate. Thus, in a predication the predicate is predicated of the subject; given that being predicated is almost as the same as being said. The relation between being said and being predicated is so close that ‘if something is said of a subject both its name and its definition are necessarily predicated of the subject.’ (Cat., 5, 2a19-26) This, however, is true only about the second genera and not the accidents. a) Nature of relation in predication What is Aristotle’s theory about the nature of the relation in a predication? How does he fundamentally understand this relation? Phil Corkum distinguishes between predication logic and traditional term logic and argues that the relation between subject and predicate in Aristotle is of the latter kind. While in predicate logic, subjects and predicates have distinct roles, they have the same role in traditional term logic. In predication logic, subjects refer, but predicates characterize. Thereupon, a sentence expresses a truth if the object to which the subject refers is correctly characterized by the predicate. In traditional term logic, both subjects and predicates refer and a sentences expresses a truth if both name one and the same thing. He concludes that Aristotle ‘problematically conflates prediction and identity claims’ because while he thinks both subjects and predicates refer, he would deny that a sentence is true just in case the subject and the predicate name one and the same thing. Based on this, Corkum believes that Aristotle’s core semantic is not identity but the weaker relation of constitution, which is a mereological interpretation: ‘All men are mortal’ is true just in case the mereological sum of humans is part of the mereological sum of mortals. b) Aristotle’s theory of predication: one or two theories? Frank Lewis finds an inconsistent gap between the theory of predication in the Categories and that in the later books of the Metaphysics VII, 6. So too Joan Kung, Terry Irwin, Daniel Graham. c) Distinction of ‘being said of’ and ‘being in’ Owen enumerates the texts in which Aristotle’s distinction between ‘being said of’ and ‘being in’ is asserted: OI. 11b38-12a17; To., 127b1-4; Cat. 1a20-b9; 2a11-14; 2a27-b6; 2b15-17; 3a7-32; 9b22-24 d) Predication in Aristotle and the standard ‘S is P’ Marie De Rijk Lambertus thinks that the ‘S is P’ pattern is misleading when it comes to express predication in Aristotle. In his view, ‘The Aristotelian procedure should be described in terms of appositively assigning an attribute (κατηγορούμενον) to a substrate (ὑποκείμενον), rather than ascribing a predicate to a subject by means of a copula…. The comment should be considered an attribute which is said to fall to a substrate, without understanding this procedure in terms of sentence predication.’ e) Aristotle’s predication: bipartite or tripartite? It is a difficulty to make Aristotle’s theories of name-verb predication and tripartite predication consistent. The reason is that tripartite is not consistant with his name-verb structure based on which he says that the predicate term is the ‘verb.’ (20a31; 20b1-2; 16a13-5) The problem is that in a tripartite form like ‘Socrates is white’ we cannot take ‘is white’ as the verb because, based on Aristotle himself, no part of a verb can be significant itself. (16b6-7) However, his assertions about the equivalences between the two structures (OI. 12, 21b9-10; PrA. 51b13-16; Met., 1017b22-30) must mean that they are not inconsistent in his own view. Thus, as Allen Bāck points, ‘Aristotle seems to think that he has a single, consistent theory.’ The sense of saying or speaking as the root sense of rhema makes the relation between predication (saying something of something) and verb more interesting. The use of rhema in the sense of a long expression approves this. In Plato’s work (399ac) where Socrates claims that the name anthropos derives from anthron ha opopen (‘he who examines what he has seen’) we have an onoma from, or in place of, a rhema. 1) Subject The subject (ὑποκειμένον) is that of which another term is said or predicated. Aristotle’s own definition is of a much more philosophical value: ‘By subject I mean that which is expressed by an affirmative term (λέγω δὲ ὑποκείμενον τὸ κάταφάσει δηλούμενον).’ (Met., K, 1067b18) Throughout Aristotle’s work, three kinds of subjects can be found: possible, prime and absolute subject. a) Possible subject Those things that can take the position of a subject in a predication we call possible subjects, no matter they can or cannot take the position of predicate in any predication. All terms except the ultimate predicates are possible subjects because they can take the position of subject. b) Prime subject Those that in any predication can only take the position of a subject and not the position of a predicate are prime subjects. (Cat., 5, 3a36-b2; Met., Z, 1028b36-1029a1) This is the truest sense of subject and belongs only to substances. (Met., Z, 1029a1-2) In fact, ‘that which is not predicated of a subject, but of which all else is predicated’ is a substance. (Met., Z, 1029a7-9) In Categories, besides primary substances (Cat., 2, 1b3-6), individual qualities are also said not to be able to be said of anything else. (Cat., 2, 1a23-29) Aristotle’s examples are a certain ‘knowledge-of-grammar’ (τὶς γράμματικὴ) and ‘an individual white’ (τὸ τὶ λευκὸν). Thus, although substances are indeed in the truest sense individuals and, thereby, in the truest sense primary subjects, other individuals can take the position of subject as well. c) Absolute subject While substances are prime subjects of all other things, there is still something of which substances can be predicated and this predication is not an accidental predication: matter. (Met., Z, 1029a21-24) This predication is, indeed, the predication of a ‘form or this’ on matter and material substance. (Met., Θ, 1049a34-36) The only thing that is absolutely a subject, therefore, and can be a predicate is prime matter (πρώτη ὓλη). (Met., Θ, 1049a24-27) d) Subject and substance The most important thing in being a substance is being a subject: ‘It is because the primary substances are subjects for all the other things and all the other things are predicated of them or are in them, that they are called substances most of all.’ (Cat., 5, 2b15-17) And what is nearer to this position is more a substance as a species is more a substance than a genus.’ (Cat., 5, 2b7-8) e) Primary versus accidental subject A subject is a primary subject in a predication when the predicate is predicated of it as itself. In such a case, the subject is the subject of the predicate qua itself and not qua something else. A subject, on the one hand, is an accidental subject when it is not the primary subject of the predicate that is predicated on it. It means that a subject is an accidental subject when the predicate is predicated of it not qua itself but qua something else. An accidental subject is, therefore, anything other than a substance. 2) Predicate as universal It is evident from our discussion of kinds of subjects that except matter, primary substances (if we ignore both accidental predication and cases of absolute subjects) and other individuals, everything else can take the position of a predicate. Since primary substances are individuals, it results that everything except matter and individuals are capable to take the position of predicate. The immediate consequence of this is that the predicate must be a universal. When individuals cannot take the position of predicate, this position cannot be taken by any particular. Therefore, only universals can be predicated of others. Moreover, albeit universals can be a simple subject (for another universal), they are not prime subjects. The closeness of universal and predicate is to the extent that Aristotle differentiates universal from subject. (Met., Θ, 1049a27-30) 3) Categories or classes of predicates Aristotle distinguishes ten highest classes into one of which each predicate must necessarily fall: substance (or what a thing is), quality, quantity, relation, place, time, position, state, activity and passivity. (Cat., 4, 1b25-27; To., I, 9, 103b20- ; PsA., A, 22, 83b13-23) The substance counted among predicates must refer to secondary and not primary substances not only because Aristotle insists that primary substances cannot be predicated but also from his own examples of the category of substance: man and animal. (To., I, 9, 103b25) However, if a predicate be asserted of itself or its genus be asserted of it, the predicate signifies substance or what is; but if ‘one kind of predicate is asserted of another kind,’ it signifies one of the other nines. (To., I, 9, 103b30) These categories are so comprehensive that no predicate can remain outside them so that even non-being has as many senses as categories. (Met., M, 1089a26-30) a) That whether Aristotle’s categories are merely linguistic or fundamentally ontological is a so much controversial dispute. Some like G. E. R. Lloyd believe that ‘categories are primarily intended as a classification of reality … rather than of the signifying terms themselves.’ b) Although Aristotle’s categories have been historically regarded as a classification of predications, there are some recent commentators like Jonathan Barnes that think it is classifying predicates and not predications. 4) Kinds of predicates In his introduction of Categories, as J. W. Thorp truly points out , Aristotle distinguishes between the category of substance and the other categories using μὲν ... δὲ construction. This construction illustrates that beside tenfold classification of categories, there is an even more crucial differentiation between two kinds of predicates: substance or what is on the one hand and the other nine ones on the other hand: the distinction between what is predicated of the subject as what it is and what is predicated of it as an accident. Therefore, we have three kinds of classification - a twofold, a fourfold and a tenfold-complicatedly classifying the same thing, viz. the predicate. Predicates can be divided also to four kinds: property, definition, genus and accident. (To., I, 4, 101b11-20) A property is that predicate that is convertible with its subject and does not signify its essence. A definition is that predicate that is convertible with its subject and signifies its essence. It is a genus if it is not predicated convertibly and is contained in the definition of its subject. And it is an accident if it is neither convertible nor contained in the definition of its subject. (To., I, 8, ^103b3) All of these four kinds are among categories. (To., I, 9, 103b20) It seems that there might be some kind of relation between the twofold and the fourfold distinction: whereas genus and definition are predicated as what it is, accidents are not so predicated. There seems to be some rules that determine to each of these four kinds each predicate belongs. At To., IV, 123b30ff. Aristotle asserts: ‘If B has a contrary and A does not, then B does not belong to A as its genus.’ There is a dispute around per se accidents (τὰ καθ’ αὑτὰ συμβεβηκότα) (Topics., 102a18) whether they must be regarded as either of the four kinds or as a fifth kind. Barnes (1970) argued that they ‘do not fit at all neatly into the fourfold classification.’ He argues that based on the definition of accidents at A, 5, 102b4-5, they must be accidents but based on another definition, A, 5, 102b6-7, they cannot be accidents. He also defends the view that they are not properties. Barnes concludes: ‘This shows that the two definitions are not equivalent, and hence that the ‘predicables’ are not well-defined.’ Demetris J. Hadgopoulos defends the view that the two definitions of accidents are equivalent and per se accidents are properties. 5) Five types of predications We have five kinds of predications based on our division of subjects and our discussion of predicates: simple, primary (itself divided to substantial and accident), accidental (itself divided to primary and secondary), aoincidental and absolute predication. a) Simple predication. This is a predication in which a universal is predicated of either a particular or a universal subject. This sense of predication includes all other senses except the first kind of accidental predication. b) Primary predication. This is a predication in which a universal is predicated of a primary subject, namely a substance. A primary predication is of two kinds: i) Substantial predication. A primary predication in which the predicate is part of, or is included in, the definition of the subject. The universal that is the predicate here is the definition or the genus or the species or the diferentia of the subject. It is this predication that Aristotle calls a unity: ‘A statement may be called a unity … because it exhibits a single predicate as inhering not accidentally in a single subject.’ (PsA., B, 10, 93b35-37) It is only substantial predicates that can be predicated of each other: ‘Predicates which are not substantial are not predicated of one another.’ (PsA., A, 22, 83b18-19) Aristotle defines a substantial predication also in another way. A predication in which a higher genus is predicated on a lower genus, species, a substance or an individual, (or a species is predicated on an individual) is a substantial predication. Therefore, a substantial predication is a predication in a series that has individuals on one of its ends and a general category on its other end. In fact, only substantial predicates can be predicated of one another. (PsA., A, 22, 83b17-19) This series cannot be an infinite series because otherwise not only substances would not be definable but also a genus would be equal to one of its own species. (PsA., A, 22, 83b7-10) -/- ii) Accident predication. A primary predication in which the predicate is not part of, or is not included in, the definition of its subject. The universal that is the predicate here is the property or the accident of the subject. c) Accidental predication. This is a predication in which the subject is not a primary subject and its predicate is a substance. This predication is of two kinds: i) Primary accidental predication. This is a predication in which an accident is predicated of substance. Such a predication can go ad infinitum, which is inferable from Aristotle’s assertion that the secondary accidental predication cannot go ad infinitum. ii) Secondary accidental predication. It is a predication in which an accident is predicated of another accident. Such a predication, Aristotle asserts, cannot go ad infinitum because even more than two accidents cannot be combined. Now what is the meaning of Aristotle’s assertion that we cannot continue this ad infinitum? Does it mean that we cannot continue the predication ‘The musician is white’ and say ‘The white is Athenian?’ But why not? Or maybe he means that by adding any predication, we are still in a condition of predicating two accidents of a substance on each other. -/- As primary subjects, substances can also take the position of predicate though not essentially but accidentally. In propositions like ‘the white is a log’ or ‘That big thing is a log’ we observe substance taking the position of predicate but this is only accidentally: ‘When I affirm ‘the white is a log,’ I mean that something which happens to be white is a log- not that white is the subject in which log inheres (οὐχ ὡς τὸ ὑποκείμενον τῷ ξύλῳ τὸ λευκόν ἐστι), for it was not qua white or qua a species of white that the white (thing) came to be a log (οὔτε λευκὸν ὄν οὔθ᾿ ὃπερ λευκόν τι ἐγἐνετο ξύλον), and the white (thing) is consequently not a log except incidentally.’ (PsA., 22, 83a3-9) Aristotle compares this accidental use of substance in the position of predicate with the substantial use of it in the place of a subject: ‘On the other hand, when I affirm ‘the log is white,’ I do not mean that something else, which happens to be a log, is white (οὐχ ὃτι ἓτερόν τί ἐστι λευκόν, ἐκείνῳ δὲ συμβέβηκε ξύλῳ εἶναι), (as I should if I said ‘the musician is white,’ which would mean ‘The man who happens also to be a musician is white’); on the contrary, log is here the subject- the subject which actually came to be white, and did so qua wood or qua a species of wood and qua nothing else.’ (PsA., 22, 83a8-14) Aristotle asks us not to call propositions like ‘The white is a log’ a predication at all or at least call them accidental predication instead of simple (ἁπλως) predication. (PsA., A, 22, 83a14-17) An accidental predication, in which we have a substance in the place of predicate, is different from an essential predication in that while the subject of an accidental predication is said to be the predicate not by itself but as something different with which it coincides, the subject of an essential predicate is said to be the predicate by itself and not because it is something else: ‘Since there are attributes which are predicated of a subject essentially and not accidentally- not, that is, in the sense in which we say ‘That white (thing) is a man,’ which is not the same mode of predication as when we say ‘The man is white’: the man is white not because he is something else but because he is man, but the white is man because ‘being white’ coincides with ‘humanity’ within one subject. Therefore, there are terms such as are essentially subjects of predicates. (PsA., A, 19, 81a24-29) This capability of ‘non-essentially and only accidentally’ being a subject does belong, in fact, to all sensible things. (PsA., A, 27a32-36) d) Coincidental predication. this is a predication in which none of the subject and predicate are a substance or an individual. In this predication, one of the accidents of a substance or individual is predicated of one of the other accidentals of the same substance or individual. For example, when it is said that ‘The white is musical,’ there is an individual, say Socrates, for which both of white and musical are accidents. e) Absolute predication. This is a predication in which a form or a substance is predicated of a matter or a material substance. Some commentators like Loux and Lewis regarded this predication as close to accident predication, both based on inherence. As R.M. Dancy points out, these predications make Aristotle’s theory of predication immanentist: not only accident predications are explained by the immanence of accidents in substances, some of the substantial predications, which were not explained in Categories, are also explained by the immanence of form in matter. It is interesting that in this kind of predication, it is the predicate and not the subject, which is in the strictest sense substance. As the central books of Metaphysics claim, the form is the substance. Thus, in this predication, substance gets away from the sense of ὑποκείμενον. Corkum mentiones 68a19 as the only instance where Aristotle explicitly claims that a term may be predicated of itself, a passage that is, in Corkum’s view, problematic. 6) Demonstrable predicates Those predicates are demonstrable that are so related to their subjects that there are other predicates prior to them predicable of their subjects (ἔτι δ᾿ ἄλλος, εἰ ὧν πρότερα ἄττα κατηγορεῖται). (PsA., A, 22, 83b32-34) 7) Series of predications Since it is possible for a predicate to be itself the subject of another predication, we can have a series of predications in which the predicate of a predication is the subject of the next predication. This series has the following features: a) It has a limit (in number) (PsA., A, 22, 83b14-16) on the side of subjects: there are subjects that cannot themselves be predicated (PsA., A, 27, 43a39-41), which are, as we noted, prime subjects: particulars, i.e. prime substances and other individuals. (PsA., A, 19-22) Aristotle calls them ultimate (ὓστατον). (PsA., 21, 82a36-b1) b) It has a limit (in number of kinds) (PsA., A, 22, 83b14-16) also on the side of predicates: there must be predicates that cannot be subjects. (PsA., A, 19-22; PsA., A, 27, 43a36-39) Aristotle calls them primary (πρῶτον). (PsA., A, 21, 82b1-4) These are the highest categories or the highest genera of categories. (PsA., A, 22, 83b14-16) c) The series has an escalating shape from mere subjects at its downside to mere predicates at its upside. It is Aristotle himself whos uses the words up and down in this sense. (e.g. PsA., A, 22, 83b2-3) d) The predications that lie between lowest and highest ones must be finite in number. (PsA., A, 19-22 especially: 20, 82a21-35) These have subjects and predicates, each capable of both of the roles of being subject and being predicated. A result of this fitness is that neither demonstration can go to infinity nor everything is demonstrable, the two points Aristotle always insist on. e) The upward side includes the more universal ones and the downward the more particular ones. (PsA., 20, 82a21-23) f) It follows from the above features that ‘neither the ascending nor the descending series of predications … are infinite.’ (PsA., A, 22, 83b24-25) g) Reciprocation and convertibility. Except in case of terms (i.e. subjects and predicates) that are at each of the ends of series of predications, namely ultimates and primaries, it is possible to reciprocate (ἀντιστρέφειν) terms and convert the predication. (PsA., A, 19, 82a15-20) h) Antipredication. Antipredication means that in a predication (S is P), the subject becomes the predicate of its predicate (P is S) in the same category its predicate was predicated on it. For example, if P is in the category of quality, antipredication means that S be predicated of P in the category of quality. In other words, P is a quality of S and S is a quality of P. Aristotle rejects this. (PsA., A, 22, 83a36-b3) i) Self-predication versus other-predication. Aristotle distinguishes between a predication in which a term is said of itself and a predication in which a term is said of another. (Phy., Δ, 2, 209a31-33) j) Predicablity (Cat., 5, 3a36-b2): 1) Primary substances and individuals are not predicable. 2) Secondary substances are of two kinds: genus and species i) Genus is predicable able both of the species and of the individuals. ii) Species is predicable of the individual. 3) Differentiae are predicable both of the species and of the individuals. 8) Predication as classification a) Richard Patterson believes that Aristotle’s so repeated construction using hoper (estin A hoper B) in Topics (120a23 sq., 122b19, 26sq., 123a, 124a18, 125a29, 126a21, 128a35. Also in Posterior Analytics (83a24-30) (Brunschwig’s list. ‘expresses the fact that A is a kind of B (esti A B tis), that A is a species of the genus B.’ 9) Universal predication Aristotle defines universal predication (κατὰ παντὸς κατηγορεῖσθαι) as such: ‘wherever no instance of the subject (τῶν τοῦ ὑποκειμέμνου) can be found of which the other term cannot be asserted.’ (PrA., A, 24b27-29) In this predication, the subject is included in another as in a whole (ἐν ὃλῳ εἶναι) and the predicate is predicated of all of the subject (κατὰ παντὸς κατηγορεῖσθαι). (PrA., A, 24b26-27) Attach another discussion we had about ἐν ὃλῳ here. 10) Quantity of predication A predication, truly stated, has a quantity, which is the number of objects under the name of the subject of which the predicate is predicated. The quantity of subject can be stated in four ways: a. Indefinite: when the predicate belongs or does not belong to the subject without any mark to show to haw many of the particulars under the name of the subject it does or does not belong. E.g. ‘Man is white’; ‘Man is not white.’ (PrA., A, 24a20; OI., I, 7, 17b8-12) b. Universal quantity: When the predicate belongs to all or none of the subject. E.g. ‘Every man is animal’; ‘No man is animal.’ (PrA., A, 24a18-19; OI., I, 7, 17b5-6) The contrary of a predication of a universal quality is a predication of a universal quality. E.g. the contrary of ‘Every man is white’ is ‘No man is white.’ (OI., I, 7, 17b20-23) c. Particular quantity: When the predicate belongs (or does not belong) to some of the subject. E.g. ‘Some men are white’; ‘Some men are not white.’ (PrA., A, 24a19-20) d. Single quantity: when the subject is a proper name of only one object. E.g. ‘Socrates is white’; ‘Socrates is not white.’ The contrary of this predication is of a single quantity: ‘Socrates is not white.’ (OI., I, 7, 17b38-18a4) 11) Convertibility of predication. Some predications are convertible, that is, it is possible to change the place of subject and predicate in a true proposition so that the converted proposition remains true. This is supposed to mean that given the truth of a predication, the truth of the converted predication is inferable. The convert form of a predication depends on its quantity. a. Indefinite quantity: This predication has no strictly true convert because its quantity is not stated. b. Universal quantity: It can be converted in two ways: i) A negative universal can be converted to a negative universal in which the terms are changed. E.g. ‘No pleasure is good’ can be converted to ‘No good is pleasure.’ (PrA., A, 2, 25a5-8 and a14-19) ii) An affirmative universal can be converted to an affirmative particular in which the terms are changed. E.g. ‘Every pleasure is good’ can be converted to ‘Some good is pleasure.’ (PrA., A, 2, 25a7-9) c. Particular quantity: If it is negative, it cannot be converted but if it is affirmative, it can be converted to an affirmative predication with particular quantity. E.g. ‘Some pleasure is good’ can be converted to ‘Some good is pleasure.’ (PrA., A, 2, 25a10-13 and a20-24) d. Single quantity: It cannot be converted. 12) Characteristics of relations between subject and predicate 1. A predicate is of a wider range than its subject. It is based on this fact that Aristotle: a) Prevents individuals to be predicate because there is nothing of which an individual be of a wider range. In other words, it is due to the fact that since an individual is only ‘one particular’ thing and, thus, cannot be of a wider extent than anything that Aristotle prevents them of being a predicate. Matthews, however, thinks we cannot use Socrates, a substance and an individual, in the place of predicate and say it of Socrates because ‘Socrates does not classify Socrates: it names him.’ b) Prevents differentia, species and things under species to be predicated of genus. (To., Z, 6, 144a27-) c) Prevents the species and the things under it to be predicated of the differentia. (To., Z, 6, 144b1-4) d) Also about the effect because it is wider than its subject. (PsA., B, 17, 99a) e) Each attribute is wider than every individual it is predicated on, though several attributes, collectively considered, might not be wider but exactly the substance of a thing. (PsA., B, 13, 96a32-b1) 2. The predicate of a predicate of a subject will be predicated of the subject too: ‘whenever one thing is predicated of another as of a subject, all things said of what is predicated will be said of the subject too.’ (Cat., 3, 1b10-15) In fact, it is due to its predication of the subject that it is predicated of its predicate. (Cat., 5, 2a36-b1) Moreover, what is not predicated of the predicate of a subject cannot be predicated of it as well. (PrA., A, 27, 43b22-27) Thus, what, for example, is not predicated of animal, cannot be predicated of man. 3. The predicate of a subject can be predicated of its predicates as well. (Cat., 5, 3a1-6) For example, you call the individual man grammatical and, thence, you call both a man and an animal grammatical. Nonetheless, the predicate of a subject belongs to it more properly than to its higher predicates. (PrA., A, 27, 43a27-32) 4. It is only the subject that can be distributed and not the predicate. (PrA., A, 27, 43b16-22; OI, I, 7, 17b12-16) Therefore, we can say e.g. ‘Every man is animal’ but we cannot say ‘Every man is every animal.’ 5. It is the reason of the relation between subjects and predicates, that is the reason of predication, which is the subject of inquiry. (Met., Z, 1041a20-24) In other words, since it is a meaningless inquiry to ask why a thing is itself (Met., Z, 1041a14-15), the only remaining meaningful inquiry is to ask why something is something else, i.e. to ask about the reason of predication. 6. A subject cannot categorize its predicate in the same category in which it is categorized by it. If e.g. A is a quality of B, B cannot be a quality of A. Therefore, there is no reciprocation in the same category. (PsA., A, 22, 83a36-39) 13) Characteristics of series of predications 1. A series of secondary accidental predication cannot go ad infinitum for not even more than two terms can be comnbined. For an accident is not an accident of an accident, unless it be because both are accidents of the same subject. (Met., Γ, 1007b1-4) 2. Infinite series cannot be traversed in thought. (PsA., A, 22, 83b6-7) 3. The predications of genera on each other must be ended and cannot go to infinity because otherwise not only substances would not be definable but also a genus would be equal to one of its own species. (PsA., A, 22, 83b7-10) Therefore, a series of predication of genera on each other must be limited on both sides. There must be an upward limit in general categories as well as a downward limit in individual because they cannot be predicated of others. Whatever lies between these limits can both be predicated of others and others be predicated of them. (PrA., A, 27, 43a36-43) 4. The order of predicates matters: it makes a difference whether the series be ABC or BAC. (PsA., B, 13, 96b25-32) . (shrink)

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

A. Accident 1. We call an accident (συμβεβηκὸς) that which attaches to something and can be truly asserted, but neither of necessity nor usually.’ (Met. , Δ, 1025a14-16) 2. Whenever an accident attaches to a subject, it attaches to it not because it is that subject (μὴ διότι τοδὶ ἧν). (Met., Δ, 1025a21-24) 3. ‘There is no definite cause for an accident, but a chance cause, i.e. an indefinite one.’ (Met., Δ, 1025a24-25) 4. ‘The accident has happened or exists, -not (...) in virtue of itself, however, but of something else. (Met., Δ, 1025a28-29) 5. ‘What attaches to each thing in virtue of itself but is not in its substance is an accident.’ (Met., Δ, 1025a30-32) 6. ‘An accident is something which, though it is … neither a definition nor a property nor a genus, yet belongs to the thing.’ (To., I, 5, 102b4-) 7. An accident is ‘something which may either belong or not belong to any one and the self-same thing, as (e.g.) being seated may belong or not belong to some self-same thing.’ (To., I, 5, 102b4-) 8. ‘There is nothing to prevent an accident from becoming a temporary or relative property … [and] there is nothing to prevent an accident from becoming both a relative and a temporary property; but a property absolutely it will never be.’ Aristotle’s example is ‘being seated.’ That it is a temporary property is evident. It is also a relative property to those who are not seating when he is the only person sitting. Therefore, it is a temporary and also a relative property. 9. ‘In the case of accidents and in no other it is possible for something to be true in a certain respect and not universally’ and ‘there is nothing to prevent an attribute belonging in part’ so that it is open to dispute accidents e.g. being white or just about a man because he might be white or just in part only. Thus, ‘conversion is not a necessary process in the case of accidents.’ (To., B, 1, 109a9-) B. Essential versus accidental Aristotle distinguishes between two senses of being (τὸ ὄν): accidental sense (κατὰ συμβεβηκός) and essential sense (καθ᾿ αὑτό). The accidental sense happens when something is said to be another thing while there is in fact a third thing which is both of them. Thus, being the first thing is not by itself the second thing. a) Aristotle speaks of three ways in which one thing is said in an accidental sense to be another. (Met., Δ, 1017a8-22) i) When both the subject and the predicate are accidents of a third thing and it is in fact the third thing which ‘is’ by its own. Thus, when it is said e.g. that ‘The just is musical’ it is said accidentally because it is in fact a third thing, Socrates for example, which is just and musical. (Met., Δ, 1017a13-19) ii) When that to which the attribute belongs is. The example of this must be ‘the man is musical’ because it is in fact the man which is. iii) When the subject which has as an attribute that of which it is itself predicated, itself is. The example of this must be Aristotle’s third example: ‘The musical is man.’ b) Aristotle rejects the essential sense to categories: ‘Those things are said in their own right to be that are indicated by the figures of predication; for the senses of ‘being’ are just as many as these figures.’ (Met., Δ, 1017a22-24) Aristotle does not give us any example of the essential sense. Daniel W. Graham suggests that while essential predication is of the logical form of ‘S is P,’ the logical form of the accidental predication is ‘S has P.’ Although he concedes that the is/has contrast is not Aristotle’s, for which he thinks Aristotle prefers ‘said of’/’in’ terminology, he points to the discussion of ‘have’ in Cat. 15 as an evidence of its potential value for an analysis of predication. Kirwan analyses the distinction of essential and accidental predicate as such: while essential predicates ‘are identical with the subjects of which they are predicated; other predications are true in virtue of the fact that two distinct items, e.g. a substance and a quality, ‘coincide.’ Herman Weidemann believes ‘what divides a predicative statement which predicates essentially from a predicative statement which predicates accidentally is the fact that the former does- whereas the latter does not- answer the question what its subject cannot fail to be without ceasing to exist, as the somewhat its subject goes on existing, no matter what happens to be true of it during its existence, or, what kind of things its subject must be in order to be identifiable as one and the same object as long as it exists.’ C. Essential 1. Either the formula or the name of the subject of an essential attribute is involved in it. For example, animal is involved in female but not in white. (Met., Z, 1030b23-26) 2. Essential attributes, combined together, form a unity. Thus, e.g. animal and biped form a unity because they are both essential of man. (OI., II, 11, 21a14-16) 3. Aristotle distinguishes between two kinds of essential attributes (PsA., A, 4, 73a34-b3; 22, 84a12-17): a) Those attributes that belong to their subject as elements in its essential nature as e.g. line belongs to triangle or point to line. Here the very being of triangle is composed of line or that of line is composed of points: line is contained in the formula of triangle and point in that of line. b) Those attributes whose subjects are contained in their own defining formula as e.g. straight is an essential attribute of line because line is part of the defining formula of straight or odd belongs to number because number is part of the defining formula of odd. Every attribute that is related in neither of these two ways to its subject, it is not an essential but an accidental attribute. (PsA., A, 4, 73b3-5) 4. That attribute which is not predicated of a subject other than itself is an essential attribute. A substance cannot be predicated of anything but itself and is, thus, essential. (PsA., A, 4, 73b5-10) 5. A thing consequently co-stated with anything is essential. For example, if a beast dies when its throat is being cut, its death is also essentially connected with the cutting because the cutting was the cause of death, not death a coincidence of cutting. (PsA., A, 4, 73b10-15) 6. Essential attributes in both of this sense, either in the sense that their subjects are contained in them or in the sense that they are contained in their subjects, are necessary as well as consequently co-stated with their subjects. The reason is that it is impossible for them to inhere in their subjects either simply or in the qualified sense (that one or other of a pair of opposites must inhere in the subject as e.g. one of straight or curve must be necessarily predicable of a line or one of odd or even of number). (PsA., A, 4, 73b16-21; 6, 74b5-12; B, 96b1-5) 7. Only those attributes that are within a genus are essential and possessed by their respective subjects as such and, thus, are necessary. Thereupon, both the conclusion and the premises of demonstrations which produce scientific knowledge are essential. (PsA., A, 6, 75a28-31) Therefore, ‘the extreme and the middle terms must be drawn from the same genus; otherwise, as predicated, they will not be essential and will thus be accidents.’ (PsA., A, 6, 75b10-12) Also, the theorems of a science can be demonstrated by means of another science only when they are related as subordinate to superior. (PsA., A, 6, 75b13-) 8. Our knowledge of the connexion of an attribute with a subject is essential only when ‘we know that connexion through the middle term in virtue of which it inheres (καθ᾿ὃ ὑπἀρχει), and as an inference from basic premises essential and ‘appropriate’ to the subject.’ The essential belonging of the middle to the minor has a necessary connexion with its belonging to the same genus of the major and minor: ‘If that middle term also belongs essentially to the minor, the middle must belong to the same genus as the major and minor terms (ἀνάγκη τὸ μέσον ἐν τῇ αὐτῇ συγγενείᾳ εἶναι). (PsA., A, 9, 76a4-9) 9. In an essential predication, the predicate is signified of a subject identical with itself or with a species of itself. Since only predicates which signify substance signify that the subject is identical with the predicate or with a species of the predicate, predicates signifying substance are essentially predicated and any other predicate is accidental or coincidental. Thus, while animal is essentially predicated of man because man is identical with a species of animal, white is accidentally predicated of man because man is neither identical with white nor a species of it. (PsA., A, 22, 83a24-32) Weidemann discusses the confusion between essential predications and statements of identity. He warns that the expression ‘(to be) just what a man is’ (analogous to the Greek phrase ‘(εἶναι) ὃπερ ἀνθρώπον) ought not to be confused with the expression ‘just what it is for a man to be,’ which renders the phrase τὸ ὃπερ ἀνθρώπῳ εἶναι’ (1007a22, 23, 27-28); a confusion Kirwan discusses. 10. ‘Demonstration proves the inherence of essential attributes in things.’ (PsA., A, 22, 84a11-12) 11. ‘Nothing which does not happen to belong to the genus is essentially the genus; e.g. a white man is not essentially a color.’ Thus, while justice falls within the genus, a just man does not. (To., Γ, 1, ^116a24-) 12. There is no syllogism of essence (ti esti). Nevertheless, we come to know ti esti through a demonstration. (93b15-20; cf. 93b25-28) D. Accidental 1. An accidental attribute cannot be predicated of a subject universally. Thus, we cannot say ‘Every man is musical.’ The reason is that ‘universal attributes belong to things in virtue of their nature.’ Therefore, accidental predicates are predicated only of the individuals. (Met., Δ, 1017b33-1018a2) 2. An accidental is a mere name. (Met., E, 1026b13-) 3. An accidental is obviously akin to non-being. (Met., E, 1026b21) 4. ‘That which is neither always nor for the most part we call accidental.’ (Met., E, 1026b27-33) 5. The matter (ὕλη) is the cause of the accidental because it is matter which is capable of being otherwise than as it for the most part is. (Met., E, 1027a13-16) In fact, there is cause or principle of the incidental of the same kind as there are of the essential because if there were, everything would be of necessity. (Met., K, 1065a6-8) The causes of accidental are unordered and indefinite. (Met., K, 1065a25-26) 6. Since all science is either of that which is always or of that which is for the most part, there is no science of the accidental. (Met., E, 1027a19-24; K, 1064b30-1065a6) Therefore, since an accident may also not inhere and, thus, it is impossible to prove its inherence as a necessary conclusion, there is no demonstrative knowledge of accidents. (PsA., A, 6, 75a18-23) 7. The accidental is not necessary but indeterminate. (Met., K, 1065a24-26) 8. The co-positing of a subject and a predicate which are accidental either to the same subject or to one another, whiteness and being musical for instance, does not form a unity. (OI, II, 11, 21a7-14) 9. Negative predicates, i.e. predicates including a ‘not,’ are accidental predicates. Thus, if good be an essential predicate of a subject, ‘not bad’ cannot be essential but is accidental. (OI., II, 14, 23b15-20) 10. Every attribute which does not belong to its subject in either of two senses of essential attribute (cf. PsA., A, 4, 73a34-b3), namely, belonging to their subjects as an element of its formula or their subjects belonging to them as an element of them, is an accidental attribute. (PsA., A, 4, 73b3-5) 11. Those attributes that are predicated of a subject other than themselves are accidental attributes. Thus, everything except substance is an accidental in this sense. (PsA., A, 4, 73b5-10) 12. A thing not consequentially connected with anything is accidental. For example, in ‘while he was walking it lightened,’ the lightening was not due to his walking but was a coincidence. (PsA., A, 4, 73b10-15) 13. Those attributes that are not within a genus are accidental attributes. (PsA., A, 6, 75a28-31) Therefore, the extreme and middle terms that are not drawn from the same genus are accidents. (PsA., A, 6, 75b10-12) Moreover, to apply an attribute to subjects in different genera afford knowledge of the attribute, only as inhering accidentally, not as belonging to its subject as such.’ (PsA., A, 9, 75b38-76a3) . (shrink)

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

Aristotle differentiates between otherness (ἑτερότης) and difference (διαφορὰ). Otherness has no definite respect: one thing is other than another thing only because they are not the same. Every two things which are not the same are other than each other. Therefore, two things other than each other do not need something in which they are other than each other. Difference, on the other hand, has a definite respect and one thing is different from another thing in some respect. Thus, there (...) must be something identical whereby two different things differ. (Met. , I, 1054b23-27) Therefore, there is no difference between anything and the things outside its genus. (Met., I, 1055a26-27) 1) Difference Aristotle takes two things as identical things in which difference occurs: genus and species. All things that differ differ either in genus or in species. (Met., I, 1054b27-28) a) Difference in genus Two things are different in genus if they ‘have not their matter in common and are not generated out of each other,’ which means that they belong to different figures of predication. (Met., I, 1054b28-29) They have no way to one another and are too far distinct and are not comparable. (Met., I, 1055a6-8) b) Difference in species Two things are different in species if they have the same genus (Met., I, 1054b29-30) but are not subordinate one to the other. (Met., Δ, 1018a38-b7) 2) Contrariety Aristotle mentions five senses. In the first sense he calls contraries ‘those attributes that differ in genus, which cannot belong at the same time to the same subject.’ (Met., Δ, 1018a25-27) Three senses emphasize on having the most difference either in the same genus, the same receptive material or the same category, all similar to genus. The fifth sense also insists on having the greatest difference but mentions species besides genus as where difference occurs. (Met., Δ, 1018a27-31) It seems that Aristotle is more inclined to the second sense as his definition in Metaphysics, I, 1055a27-29 might concede: ‘The things in the same genus which differ most are contraries; for the complete difference is the greatest difference among these,’ though he agrees with the third sense too and regards those that differ most in the same receptive material also as contraries. (Met., I, 1055a29-30) In fact, Aristotle speaks of all kinds of contraries within, without or in genera: ‘All contraries must either be in the same genus or in contrary genera or be themselves genera.’ Their corresponding examples are white and black (in the same genus), justice and injustice (in contrary genera) and good and bad (themselves genera). (Cat., 11, 14a19-25) To speak generally, as one of the four kinds of opposition, contraries are those that cannot belong at the same time to the same thing. (Met., Γ, 1011b15-18) Thus, contrariety (ἐναντιότης) is complete difference (Met., I, 1055a16-17) and contraries are the extremes of things that differ in species for which generation takes place and have the greatest distance. (Met., I, 1055a8-10; Δ, 1018a38-b7) Since contraries have the extreme difference, there cannot be more than one contrary and extreme for each thing. (Met., I, 1055a19-21) Thus, the things in the same genus which differ most are contraries. (Met., I, 1055a27-28) Aristotle says that the meaning of calling two things ‘other in species’ is that they are contrary and this being other in species he posits versus being the same in species. (Met., I, 1058a17-28) Aristotle even calls ‘the difference between things which differ in species’ a difference that belongs only to things in the same species. (Met., I, 1058a26-28) The reason is that ‘all things are divided by opposites and … contraries are in the same genus … and every difference in species is a difference from something in something … Hence also all contraries which are different in species … are … other than one another in the highest degree- for the difference is complete-, and cannot be present along with one another.’ The conclusion is that ‘The difference, then, is a contrariety.’ (Met, I, 1058a8-16) There are some characteristics for contraries in Aristotle’s philosophy: a) One thing cannot have more than one contrary for there can be neither anything more extreme than the extreme, nor more than two extremes for the one interval. (Met., I, 1055a19-21) b) The primary contrariety is the contrariety between state and complete privation. (Met., I, 1055a33-37) Aristotle regards privation both as a kind of contradiction (Met., I, 1055b3-11) and as that of which contrariety is a kind: all contrariety is a privation but not all privation is contrariety. (Met., I, 1055b11-17) In fact, every contrariety involves a privation as one of its items (Met, I, 1055b17-19 and b25-29): ‘of the contraries, no less than of the contradictories, one is a privation- and a privation of substance; and privation is the denial of a predicate to a determinate genus.’ (Met., Γ, 1011b18-20) Nonetheless, the relation between contrary, privation and contradictory seems to be even more complex:’For within a single identical genus the contrary of a given attribute is either its privative or its contradictory; e.g. within number what is not odd is even, inasmuch as within this sphere even is a necessary consequent of not-odd.’ (PsA., A, 4, 73b21-24) c) A contrary cannot be an intermediate because otherwise it would not be a perfect contrary, which must be based on definition. (Met., I, 1056a12-14) d) Contraries always accept intermediates between themselves. (Met., I, 1056a14-15 e) ‘Contraries do not involve one another in their composition, and are therefore first principles.’ (Met., I, 1057b22-23) f) ‘All the inferior classes, both the contraries and their intermediates, will be compounded out of the primary contraries.’ (Met., I, 1057b31-34) g) None of the intermediables can be predicated of either of the contraries. (Met., K, 1063b19-22) h) Contrary propositions (as defined in OI, I, 7, 17b3-6) can never both be true because they state contrary conditions which cannot subsist at one and the same time in the same subject. (OI, II, 14, 24b7-) 3) Otherness in kind Aristotle also speaks of things other in kind (ἓτερα τῷ γένει) by which he means an otherness between things ‘whose ultimate substratum is other and one cannot be analysed to the other nor both into the same thing. His example of this otherness in kind is the otherness of form and matter. (Met., Δ, 1024b9-12) 4) Network of difference and wholism Aristotle speaks of a theory based on which the knowledge of each thing depends on the knowledge of its differentiae distinguishing it from every single other thing. Therefore, to know and define one thing we need to know the whole existence. (PsA., B, 13, 97a6-11) Aristotle rejects this theory based on the fact that ‘not every differentia precludes identity’ and, thus, many differentiae inhere in things specifically identical, though not in the substance of these nor essentially.’ (PsA., B, 13, 97a11-14) 5) Knowledge and difference There must be some kind of relation between knowledge and difference in Aristotle’s saying that sight, more than other senses, makes us know and bring in light many differences between things. (Met., A, 980a24-27) . (shrink)

The following are the characteristics of a genus: 1. Those to which the same figure of predication applies are one in genus. (Met. , Δ, 1016b32-35) 2. Things that are one in genus are all one by analogy while things that are one by analogy are not all one in genus. (Met, Δ, 1016b35-1017a3) 3. A genus includes contraries. (Met., Δ, 1018a25-31) 4. All the intermediates are in the same genus as one another and as the things they stand between. (...) (Met., I, 1057a18-30; 1057b31-34) 5. Not every predicate is a genus of what it is predicated on; for this would equate a genus with one of its own species. (PsA., A, 22, 83b7-10) 6. The opposite of the genus should always be the genus of the opposite. (To., Δ, 4, ^125a27-29) 7. A genus divides the object from other things. (To., Z, 3, 140a^24) 8. None of unity and being is a genus. (Met., B, 998b22-27; Met., K, 1059b31-34; PsA., B, 7, 92b12-14) 9. There is no necessity or even no possibility that things that are the same specifically or generically should be numerically the same. (To., H, I, 152b30-) 10. To be called one due to having one genus is in a way similar to be one due to having the same matter. (Met., Δ, 1016a24-28) 11. The substance of a thing involves its genus, and thereby all the higher genera are predicated of the lower. (To., Z, 5, 143a^20- ) 12. Being falls immediately into genera. (Met., Γ, 1004a4-6) A. Characteristics of relations between genera The characteristics of relations between genera, the relations between genera and species excluded, are as follows: 1. Genus is not an element in the composition of things. (Met., I, 1057b20-22) 2. Things resulting from the same division of the same genus are simultaneous by nature. (Cat., 13, 15a3-4) 3. Processes of proof cannot pass from one genus to another. (PsA., A, 23, 84b14-18) 4. It is not necessary for subordinate genera to have different accounts. (To., I, 15, ^107a19-) E.g. when we say a raven is a bird, we also say it is a certain kind of animal. 5. It is necessary for genera that are not subordinate one to the other to have different accounts. (To., I, 15, ^107a27-30) E.g. whenever we call a thing an engine, we do not call it an animal, nor vice versa. 6. If one of the genera is predicated in what it is, all of them, both higher and lower than this one, if predicated at all of the species, will be predicated of it in what it is; so that what has been given as genus is also predicated in what it is. (To., Δ, 2, ^122a10) 7. The same object cannot occur in two genera of which neither contains the other. (To., Z, 139b32-140a2) 8. Those to which the same figure (σχῆμα) of predication applies, are the same in genus. (Met., Δ, 1016b32-35) 9. Attributes that inhere always in each several things can be divided to two groups: those that are wider in extent but not wider than its genus and those wider than its genus. (PsA., B, 13, 96a24-27) 10. The relation between A and B must be extendable in respect of all the genera of A. Thus, if A is double of B, it must also be in excess, the genus of double, to B. Aristotle accepts, however, that this may be objectable in some cases: while knowledge is called knowledge of an object of knowledge, it cannot be called a state and disposition (which is the genus of knowledge) of an object of knowledge. In fact, it is a state and disposition of the soul. (To., Δ, 4, 124b28-34) B. Characteristics of species The following are the characteristics of species: 1. Things are said to be other in species if they are of the same genus but are not subordinate the one to the other. (Met., Δ, 1018a38-b2; Met., I, 1057b35-37) 2. Contraries are other than one another in species. (Met., Δ, 1018b5-7; Met., I, 1058b26-) 3. It is not sufficient for a difference to be the basis of distinguishing species in a genus because it belongs to the genus in virtue of its nature as, e.g., the difference between men and women belongs to animal in virtue of its nature. It must also be a modification peculiar to the genus (οἰκεῖα πάθη τοῦ γένους) in the strongest sense. (Met., I, 1058a29-37) Thus, contraries which are in the formula (ἐν τῷ λόγῳ) make a difference in species, but those which are in the compound material thing do not make one as e.g. being male and female is a difference in matter. (Met., I, 1058a37-b23) 4. Some things are peculiar to the species as distinct from genus: there are attributes peculiar to each distinct species. (PrA., A, 27, 43b27-29) 5. There is no necessity or even no possibility that things that are the same specifically should be the same numerically. (To., H, I, 155b30-) C. Characteristics of relations between genera and species The following are the characteristics of relations between genera and their species: 1. Although species predicated of individuals seem to be principles rather than the genera, it is hard to say, Aristotle asserts, in what sense species are to be taken as principles. (Met., B, 999a14-21) 2. Things that are one in species are all one in genus, while things that are one in genus are not all one in species. (Met., Δ, 1016b35a1) 3. The relation of a species to its genus is like the relation of primary substance to all others: the species is a subject for the genus (ὑπόκειται γὰρ τὸ εἴδος τῷ γένει) and the genera are predicated of the species but the species are not predicated of them. (Cat., 5, 2b17-22) 4. Of the species themselves- those which are not genera- one is no more a substance than another: a certain horse is no more a substance than another horse. (Cat., 5, 2b22-26) 5. Genera are prior to species since they do not reciprocate as to implication of existence (κατὰ τὴν τοῦ εἶναι ἀκολούθησιν). For example, if there is a fish there is an animal, but if there is an animal there is not necessarily a fish. (Cat., 13, 15a4-7) 6. What belongs both to a species and to its genus, it belongs to the species more properly indeed than to the genus. (PrA., A, 27, 43b29-32) 7. A predicate drawn from the genus is never ascribed to the species in a derived form and as its genus. Thus, e.g. coloured cannot be a genus of ‘white’ when we say ‘white is coloured.’ (To., B, I, ^109b1-5) 8. Genera are predicated of their species synonymously because the species take on both the name and the account of their genera. (To., B, I, ^109b3-6) 9. All the attributes that belong to the species belong to the genus as well but there is no necessity that all the attributes that belong to the genus should belong also to the species. (To., B, 4, 111a20-32) 10. Those things of which the genus is predicated must also of necessity have one of its species predicated of them. (To., B, 4, 111a33-) 11. The higher genus should be predicated of the species in what it is. (To., Δ, 2, ^122a6) 12. The species, or any of the things which are under the species, is not predicated of the genus because the genus is the term with the widest range of all. (To., Z, 6, 144a27f.) 13. The same species cannot be in two genera neither of which contains the other. (To., Z, 6, 144b14f.) 14. None of the species of a genus is prior or posterior to other species but they are thought to be simultaneous by nature. (Cat., 13, 14b38-15a1) 15. Daniel W. Graham points that sometimes Aristotle speaks of species as classes (Cat., 5, 2a14-17) and sometimes as properties or a certain character (ποιόν τι) of substances, which is difficult to be distinguished from the category of quality. (Cat., 3b13-22) D. Characteristics of differentia 1. The last differentia will be the substance, the definition and the form of the thing. (Met., Z, 1038a18-28) 2. If we divide according to accidental qualities, there will be as many differentiae as there are processes of division. (Met., Z, 1038a25-28) 3. The differentia divides the object from any of the things contained in the same genus. (To., Z, 3, 140a24-) 4. A. C. Lloyd argues that Aristotle’s logic of classification contains a vicious circle because: ‘For a genus to be predicated unequivocally and essentially of a species the specific differentiae have to be ‘appropriate’; but in order to know whether a proposed differentia is appropriate we have to know whether the genus is predicable essentially of the species thus defined.’ The predication of differentia on primary substance seems to make difficulties in Aristotle’s system, as Terence Irwin points out. It seems to violate the distinction of strong predication and inherence, a distinction between predication of count-nouns and predication of characterizing adjectives. Irwin says that this violation is only apparent because although the differentia-term is an adjective, its gender agrees with the gender of the understood genus-term and not with that of the subject term. ‘Man is biped’ is indeed ‘Man is a biped animal.’ This shows, Irwin asserts, ‘why Aristotle can still mention that strong predication is nominal and inherence is adjectival.’ Differentiae are not, however, secondary substances, as Aristotle himself insists. A differentia does not say what the thing is, as secondary substances do, but only what it is like or what sort it is. (ποιον: To., 122b12-17; 128a20-29; 139a28-31; 142b25-29) Nonetheless, differentiae are not qualities because they are not inherent. Thus, they cannot be regarded in any of the ten categories. Irwin thinks that this anomaly is unnecessary because Aristotle could give good reasons for taking differentiae to be second substances. E. Characteristics of relations between differentia and genera or species 1. It is not possible for the genus to be predicated of the differentia taken apart from the species. (Met., B, 998b23-25; Met., K, 1059b31-33; To., VI, 6, 144a32-b1) 2. It is not possible for the species of the genus to be predicated of the proper differentiae of the genus. (Met., B, 998b24-26) 3. Where the differentia is present, the genus accompanies it, but where the genus is, the differentia is not always present. (Met., Δ, 1014b12-14) 4. The number of species are equal to the number of differentiae. (Met., Z, 1038a15-18) 5. The differentiae of genera which are different and not subordinate one to the other are themselves different in kind. (Cat., 3, 1b16-20; To., I, 15, ^107b19-) 6. There is nothing to prevent genera subordinate one to the other from having the same differentia. (Cat., 3, 1b20-22) 7. Since the higher genera are predicated of the genera below them, all differentiae of the predicated genus will be differentia of the subject also. (Cat., 3, 1b21-24) 8. The definition of the differentia is predicated of that of which the differentia is said. (Cat., 5, 3a25-28) 9. In giving what a thing is it is more fitting to state the genus than the differentia. For example, anyone who says that man is an animal shows what man is better than who describes him as terrestrial. (To., Δ, 6, ^128a24-27) 10. The differentia always signifies a quality of the genus, but the genus does not do this of the differentia. (To., Δ, 6, 128a27-29; To., Z, 6, 144a20-23) 11. A specific differentia, along with the genus, always makes a species. (To., Z, 6, 143b^1-) 12. A genus is always divided by the differentiae that are co-ordinate with it in a division and the differentiae that are co-ordinate in a division are all true of the genus. (To., Z, 6, 143b^1-) 13. Differentia cannot be predicated of the genus because genus is the term with the wider range. (To., Z, 6, 144a27-) In fact, genus is predicated, not of the differentia, but of the object of which the differentia is predicated. (To., Z, 6, 144a^31-b3) 14. Neither species nor the objects under it can be predicated of the differentia because the differentia is a term with a wider range than the species. (To., Z, 6, 144b4-) 15. The differentia is posterior to genus but prior to the species. (To., Z, 6, 144b^9-) 16. The same differentia cannot be used of two genera neither of which contains the other and if they do not both fall under the same genus. Otherwise, the same species will be in two genera neither of which contains the other, which is impossible. (To., Z, 6, 144b14-) 17. Genus and differentia are prior to and more familiar than the species: ‘For annul the genus and the differentia; and the species too is annulled, so that they are prior to the species. They are also more familiar; for if the species is known, the genus and differentia must of necessity be known as well (for anyone who knows what a man is knows also what animal and terrestrial are), whereas if the genus or the differentia is known it does not follow of necessity that the species is known as well; thus the species is less intelligible.’ (To., Z, 4, 141b15-) F. Characteristics of relations in series of classes 1. Mutually exclusive series. If no term in the series ACD… is predicable of any term in the series BEF…, and if G- a term in the former series- is the genus of A, clearly G will not be the genus of B; since, if it were, the series would not be mutually exclusive. (PsA., A, 15, 79b6-11) 2. Atomic disconnection of series. Of two mutually exclusive series ACD and BEF, if neither A nor B has a genus and A does not inhere in B, this disconnection must be atomic. (PsA., A, 15, 79b6-14) G. Characteristics of relations of individuals 1. No individual in a species is more substance than another individual in another species. (Cat., 5, 2b26-28) An individual man, for instance, is no more a substance than an individual ox. 2. Each attribute is wider than every individual it is predicated on, though several attributes, collectively considered, might not be wider but exactly the substance of a thing. (PsA., B, 13, 96a32-b1) 3. Not distinguishing between class membership and class inclusion? Some commentators like Vlastos and Ackrill (1963, 76) criticized Aristotle because he, they believe, did not distinguish between class membership (between species and particulars) and class inclusion (between genera and their species). Having accepted this point, Daniel W. Graham believes it is ‘question-begging in a curious way.’ Phil Corkum thinks that Aristotle employs mereological notions. (This criticism seems so strange because all the Aristotle’s point in distinguishing species 2 from genera is strictly the distinction of class membership and class inclusion as they call them so. (shrink)

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

Thought is the primary realm in which truth and falsity may occur and speech the secondary realm of this occurrence while the realm of external being has no truth and falsity in itself. The first and last points are directly asserted by Aristotle in one text: ‘Falsity and truth are not in things-it is not as if the good were true, and the bad were in itself false- but in thought.’ (Met., E, 1027b25-27; cf. Met., K, 1065a22-23) The second point (...) is also somehow implied: ‘As there are in the mind thoughts which do not involve truth and falsity, and those which must be either true or false, so it is in speech.’ (OI, I, 1, 16a9-11) 1) Truth and falsity belong only to co-positings and positing aways and not to incomposites Truth and falsity do not belong to the realm of external being but only to the realms of thought and language. However, they do not belong to all the elements in these realms. Neither do they belong to incomposite elements in thought (‘With regard to simple things and essences, falsity and truth do not exist even in thought.’ (Met., E, 1027b26-28; So., Γ, 6, 430a26-b4)), nor to such elements in language. Consequently, all incomposites are incapable of being true or false. (cf. Met., Θ, 1051b17-22 and b26-27) Where we have no co-positing or positing away, of the kind made by copula or verb, we cannot have truth and falsity though we can have significance: ‘“Man” and “white”, as isolated terms, are not yet either true or false. In proof of this, consider the word “good-stag.” It has significance, but there is no truth or falsity about it, unless “is” or “is not” is added, either in present or in some other tense.’ (OI., I, 1, 16a14-18) Therefore, any other kind of co-positing cannot be the subject of truth and falsity. One good example of co-positings not made by copula or verbs are simple negations: ‘He that uses the expression ‘not-man,’ if nothing more be added, is not nearer but farther from making a true or a false statement than he who uses the expression “man.”’ (OI., I, 10, 20a34-36) It is indeed a co-positing or a positing away that is the subject of truth and falsity: ‘For it is co-positing (σύνθεσιν) and positing away (διαίρεσιν) that truth and falsity is about.’ (OI., I, 1, 16a12-13) Co-positing is so vital for truth-falsity that ‘of the things that are never said based on co-positing, nothing is true or false.’ (Cat., 10, 13b9-11) This co-positing can be both in thought (‘where the alternative of true or false applies, there we always find a sort of combining of objects of thought in a quasi-unity … For falsehood always involves a combining’ (So., Γ, 6, 430a26-b2) and ‘truth or false is a co-positing of concepts of thought’ (So., Γ, 6, 430a11-12) and in language because they are produced in thought: ‘There is not only the true or false assertion that Cleon is white but also the true or false assertion that he was or will be white. In each and every case that which unifies is thought.’ (So., Γ, 6, 430b4-6) 2) Correspondence to external world Although truth and falsity belong to thought and language and not to external world, their basis is in the external world. It is, in fact, the correspondence of thought and language to external world that makes what is true, true and what is false, false: ‘To say of what is that it is, or of what is not that it is not, is false, while to say of what is that it is, and of what is not that is not, is true.’ (Met., Γ, 1011b26-27; cf. Met., Θ, 1051b2-5) When the two realms are correspondent, we can transfer from one to the other: ‘If it is true to say that a thing is white, it must necessarily be white; if the reverse proposition be true, it will of necessity not be white. Again, if it is white, the proposition stating that it is white was true; if it is not white, the proposition to the opposite effect was true. And if it is not white, the man who states that it is making a false statement, it follows that it is not white.’ (OI., I, 9, 18a39-b3) This possible mutual transformation does not, however, imply that each realm is the basis of the other. In fact, it is only the external world that is the basis of truth and falsity in thought or language and not vice versa: ‘it is not because we think that you are white, that you are white, but because you are white we who say this have the truth.’ (Met., Θ, 1051b6-9; Cat., 5, 4b8-10) Aristotle even calls the external world the ‘cause’ of truth in the realm of language while the converse causation is not approved: ‘Whereas the true statement is in no way the cause of the actual thing’s existence, the actual thing does seem in some way the cause of the statement’s being true: it is because the actual thing exists or does not that the statement is called true or false.’ (Cat., 12, 14b18-22) This one-sided relation Aristotle calls ‘reciprocation as to implication of existence’: ‘For there being a man reciprocates as to implication of existence with the true statement about it: if there is a man, the statement whereby we say that there is a man is true, and reciprocally- since if the statement whereby we say that there is a man is true, there is a man. And whereas the true statement is in no way the cause of the actual thing’s existence, the actual thing does seem in some way the cause of the statement’s being true: it is because the actual thing exists or does not that the statement is called true or false,’ (Cat., 12, 14b14-22) Aristotle attaches falsity to not-being: ‘We cal things false in this way, then, either because they themselves do not exist, or because the appearance which results from them is that of something that does not exist.’ (Met., Δ, 1024b24-26) Or: ‘A false formula is the formula of non-existent objects, in so far as it is false.’ (Met., Δ, 1024b26-27) This correspondence to ‘non-being’ is, however, more a miscorrespondence: ‘Hence every formula is false when applied to something other than that of which it is true, e.g. the formula of a circle is false when applied to a triangle.’ (Met., Δ, 1024b27-28) . (shrink)

MANEJO NA AVICULTURA: POSTURA, ILUMINAÇÃO E INCUBAÇÃO DOS OVOS -/- MANAGEMENT IN POULTRY: POSTURE, ILUMINATION AND INCUBATION OF THE EGGS -/- 1. INTRODUÇÃO A produção de ovos no Brasil está próxima de 45 bilhões de unidades por ano, mantendo um desenvolvimento constante em todos os seus aspectos: genética, instalações, patologia, alimentação, etc. Ao longo do presente trabalho, pretende-se estabelecer os conceitos que estão ligados à produção de ovos, distribuição de ovoprodutos e refletir as ideias básicas sobre os programas de iluminação (...) nas galinhas. Num segundo bloco serão analisados aspectos relacionados com a incubação dos ovos, como a higiene e o manejo, o tratamento do ovo e, por último, a caracterização dos fatores envolvidos no processo da incubação. 2. PREPARAÇÃO/POSTURA DOS OVOS A galinha começa a ovulação normalmente a partir das 20-22 semanas de vida, se bem que mediante práticas de manejo (alimentação, programas de luz, etc.) pode-se adiantar ou atrasar o momento do início das primeiras ovulações. A genética tem, logicamente, um papel importante na idade em que se alcança a puberdade das aves. Mencionamos ritmos de postura por ser a oviposição facilmente verificável, já que nem toda ovulação é seguida de oviposição, como nos casos de queda da gema na cavidade intraperitoneal. Aos primeiros sinais de postura de ovos em frangas jovens, frequentemente observam-se certas irregularidades como: a) Postura irregular: longos intervalos entre dois ovos ou mais de um ovo por dia (geralmente são anormais). b) Ovos com casca mole («soft shelled eggs»), sem a adequada classificação de cálcio. c) Ovos com duas gemas. Talvez estes fenômenos sejam provenientes de uma excessiva estimulação do ovário e disfunções do oviduto. Em suma, tudo isto pode ser consequência da falta de sincronização dos complexos mecanismos que regulam o processo. Uma vez regularizada a postura dos ovos, verifica-se que a galinha coloca um número de ovos sucessivos, seguido de uma pausa ou descanso na postura (choco) de um ou vários dias. O número de ovos que põe seguidos é chamado de sequência ou série de postura. Normalmente, essa “pausa” acontece após uma sequência de quatro a seis ovos postos. A sequência de postura de uma galinha pode ser regular, ou seja, que se repete sucessivamente o número de ovos postos de forma contínua, ou irregular quando essa sequência não obedece ao padrão normal, sendo ela derivada. O mesmo aconteceria com os dias de descanso. Como exemplo podemos encontrar: XXXX - XXXX - série e repouso regular XXX — XX — série e descanso irregular O espaço de tempo entre dois ovos de cada série é um caráter individual. Verificações de Menher (1969) indicam que o intervalo médio entre dois ovos sucessivos de uma série depende da duração desta. Em grandes séries diminui o tempo entre dois ovos sucessivos. À medida que a idade da galinha aumenta, as séries diminuem. Também observa-se que o tempo transcorrido entre dois ovos sucessivos é menor na metade da série e máximo no final da série. Uma galinha com uma série regular do tipo: XXXX - XXXX durante um período de tempo concreto permite-nos estabelecer que tem uma intensidade de postura de 80%. A intensidade de postura é definida como a porcentagem de ovos de um efetivo de galinhas num determinado período de tempo. A evolução da porcentagem de postura ao longo da vida produtiva do rebanho nos dá a curva de postura com três fases: crescimento, constância retilínea e decrescente. Define-se como período de postura o intervalo de tempo entre o início da postura da galinha (20-22 semanas) e o fim da mesma. A duração deste período pode ser variável (entre 12 e 20 meses), dependendo de vários fatores. Se observarmos a hora de oviposição dos diferentes ovos de uma série de galinhas, verificaríamos que a mesma se atrasa dia após dia. Este é um fato lógico, tendo em conta que a formação do ovo é superior a 24 horas. Também se comprova que em nenhum caso há oviposições nos períodos de escuridão quando se mantêm programas clássicos de iluminação (porém, é frequente comprovar que uma porcentagem de ovos podem ser postos durante o período de escuridão). O controle dos mecanismos que regulam os ritmos de ovulação e que definirão as séries é muito complexo, então tento fazer um pequeno resumo. Uma vez produzida a ovulação, a presença de um ovo em formação colocaria em funcionamento um sistema «Feedback» negativo da seguinte forma: gema → gera estímulos nervosos → hipotálamo → suprime RH → sem estimulação da hipófise → bloqueio de uma nova ovulação Esta ideia não é tão simples e se desconhecem em profundidade os mecanismos que a regulam. Observe uma figura que detalha melhor a formação do ovo e a passagem pelos respectivos compartimentos reprodutivos da galinha. 3. DISTRIBUIÇÃO DAS OVIPOSIÇÕES Com programas de iluminação clássicos (17L:7N) já assinalámos que a oviposição na galinha realiza-se no período de luz, e que diariamente o momento de tal oviposição irá sendo regredido (atrasado). No entanto, existe algumas horas onde a frequência máxima de postura é concentrada, que normalmente coincide com as 2-4 horas após a iluminação. Se, experimentalmente, fornecermos 24 horas de luz às galinhas, a postura ocorre durante todo o período, seja de forma aleatória ou através os estímulos a determinados pontos de referência de fatores externos periódicos: ruídos, entradas, fala de pessoas, etc., então podemos estabelecer que existe um certo sincronismo. Quando os programas de iluminação que se seguem nas granjas de galinhas poedeiras não se ajustam às 24 horas ou que seguem programas fraccionados, a resposta é diversificada e deixamos sua avaliação até não conhecer os distintos programas especiais de iluminação. 4. BASES DA ILUMINAÇÃO PARA GALINHAS POEDEIRAS O estabelecimento de programas de iluminação começa na fase de recria da franga e dada a influência que a luz exerce sobre o desenvolvimento da maturidade sexual, os programas que se instauram terão um impacto sobre o futuro produtivo das frangas. As considerações que devem ser levadas em conta no estabelecimento dos programas de iluminação são as seguintes: a) Os programas devem ser considerados como uma "globalidade" durante toda a vida da galinha. A instauração de programas de iluminação das galinhas poedeiras deve estar em conformidade com o programa seguido durante a fase de recria. b) Os aumentos no fotoperíodo durante a fase de recria implica um adiantamento no aparecimento da maturidade sexual da galinha. Este efeito deve ser considerado prejudicial, uma vez que esta postura precoce é acompanhada de tamanhos inferiores de ovos (cuja avaliação no mercado é reduzida). Este avanço no início da postura pode levar a uma falta de harmonia entre puberdade e o desenvolvimento corporal (aponta-se para uma maior incidência de prolapsos). Também indica-se que uma maturidade sexual precoce pode ser acompanhada de irregularidades na postura, pior qualidade da casca e até a um maior índice de mortalidade. c) A redução do fotoperíodo durante a recria permite atrasar o momento do início da postura e a produção de ovos é de uma maior dimensão inicial, o que compensa a ligeira diminuição do número de ovos na sua vida produtiva. d) Estabelecido um programa e posto em prática não pode alterar-se o mesmo. e) Nunca diminuir o fotoperíodo na fase de produção de ovos. f) As alterações do fotoperíodo (aumentos ou diminuições) não passam de um conceito de sensibilidade ao fato do que da magnitude dessas alterações. g) As alterações no fotoperíodo afetam inicialmente o consumo de ração das frangas, mas estas adaptam-se rapidamente aos seus níveis de ingestão e suprimento de exigências ao novo fotoperíodo. h) Ações qualitativas (limitação de um nutriente) ou quantitativas na ração fornecida podem permitir, em si mesmas, o atraso da maturidade sexual das frangas, embora não se apliquem normalmente para este fim. O controle quantitativo do gênero alimentício obedece a estratégias destinadas a obter o peso ideal para uma determinada idade de acordo com as normas fornecidas pelo fornecedor das diferentes estirpes comerciais. i) Na decisão final, ao se definir um programa deve-se ter presente: Tipo de alojamento: — Galpão com ambiente controlado. — Galpão convencionais com janelas. Neste último caso a época de nascimento das frangas será um fator relevante a ser levado em consideração. Como aspectos a destacar poderíamos citar: — Durante os primeiros dias de vida da galinha convém fornecer-lhe luz durante as 24 horas, a fim de facilitar a adaptação ao seu novo habitat (localização de comedouros e bebedouros, etc.). — Durante a fase de recria devem ser evitadas falhas que estabeleçam períodos fotocrescentes, já que alterarão a resposta produtiva posterior de tais frangas (especialmente se altera-se na última fase do período decrescente). 4.1 Programas práticos de iluminação na recria Ao longo do trabalho consideraremos sempre uma recria de 20 semanas, embora este dado possa ser variável de acordo com: a) Melhoria genética das estirpes atuais, as quais tendem a ser mais precoces. b) Tentativa de uma maior produção de ovos. No caso de reprodutoras semipesadas, a duração do período de recria pode ser de 21-22 semanas. 4.1.1 Galpões convencionais com janelas Neste tipo de galpão a iluminação externa incide no interior do navio e devem ser estabelecidos programas para combater o aumento de luz natural que se apresenta de janeiro a junho. 1. Programa de fotoperíodo decrescente Para realizar este tipo de programa pode-se seguir esta rotina: a) Verificar na tabela as horas de luz natural (x) que vão dispor-se quando as frangas cumprirem as 20 semanas de vida. b) Aumentar em 6 horas o valor observado na tabela (x + 6 horas) e fornecê-las aos 4 ou 5 dias de vida. c) Diminuir semanalmente a iluminação artificial, de tal forma que quando chegarem às 20 semanas de vida, a luz fornecida coincida com a luz solar. Exemplo prático: frangas nascidas em 8 de janeiro: a) Observa-se em tabela que cumprirão as 20 semanas em 28 de maio, tendo um comprimento do dia de 14 horas e 45 minutos. b) aumentamos em 6 horas e fornecemos 20 horas e 45 minutos a partir do quarto dia. c) Diminuímos semanalmente 360 minutos/20 semanas = 18 minutos e quando cumprirem as 20 semanas de vida, o fotoperíodo de que dispõem (14 horas e 45 minutos) coincide com o comprimento do dia. 2. Programa de fotoperíodo constante a) Para levar a cabo este tipo de programa deve-se verificar na tabela o comprimento do dia mais longo durante as 20 semanas que dura a recria. b) Proporcionar essas horas de luz a partir dos primeiros 3-4 dias durante as 20 semanas. O uso de programas de luz constante em galpões convencionais com janelas não é muito frequente, apesar da certa poupança energética que acarreta. 4.1.2 Galpões com ambiente controlado Neste tipo de galpão considera-se que a luz solar não exerce nenhuma ação no interior do mesmo. No entanto, é necessário atentar-se para que o conceito de galpão totalmente escuro seja levado até às suas últimas consequências, evitando que por sistemas de ventilação, etc., possam existir fugas de luz que alterariam os programas de iluminação propostos. Nos galpões com ambiente controlado seguem-se dois tipos de programas: 1. Programa decrescente-constante Durante as primeiras semanas vai-se diminuindo o fotoperíodo paulatinamente (1 ou 2 horas) até chegar a 8 ou 10 horas, que ficariam constantes até as 20 semanas de idade. Uma variável deste programa consiste em ir diminuindo lentamente as horas de luz e por volta da 12ª semana fazer uma diminuição brusca, deixando um fotoperíodo de 7-8 horas, que se perduraria até às 20 semanas de vida. 2. Programa constante Consiste em proporcionar de 7 a 10 horas de luz constante durante toda a fase de recria (com exceção dos primeiros dias, os quais se consideram de adaptação). Na hora de estabelecer a intensidade luminosa nesta fase de recria nos encontramos com intervalos muito amplos. Diferentes fornecedores de frangas recomendam de 20 a 40 lux durante os primeiros dias e ir diminuindo de tal forma que ao primeiro mês de vida estejam a 10-20 lux. A partir da 5 semana e até 3-4 meses vem sendo recomendada 5-10 lux para que possa, assim, aumentar a intensidade a partir dessa data para níveis de 10-30 lux. 4.2 Programas clássicos de iluminação na fase de postura Uma vez que as frangas tenham atingido as 20 semanas de idade, é preciso estabelecer os programas de iluminação para o período de postura. É necessário considerar, como se fazia no período de recria, o tipo de galpão em que vão residir durante todo o período de postura, bem como o programa seguido na fase de recria. Recordando novamente que ao longo do período de postura nunca se deve diminuir a duração do fotoperíodo, passamos a definir os programas de iluminação mais usuais em função do tipo de galpão: 4.2.1 Galpões convencionais com janelas 1. Programa crescente Consiste em ir incrementando o fotoperíodo a partir da 20ª semana. Podem existir várias opções: a) Aumento do fotoperíodo semanal de forma constante até atingir as 16-17 horas de iluminação. b) Aumento brusco do fotoperíodo às 21 e 23 semanas até atingir as 15,5 horas de iluminação, que ficariam fixas em toda a fase de postura. Esta é uma recomendação clássica de algumas casas comerciais. Em galpões convencionais com janelas, os programas de iluminação constante não costumam ser utilizados. 4.2.2 Galpões de ambiente controlado Neste tipo de galpão deve ser instaurado um programa de fotoperíodo crescente. Às 20 semanas e em função do fotoperíodo que seguiram na fase de recria o incremento pode ser brusco (caso de frangas recriadas com 8-10 horas de iluminação, pode-se passar a 12-13 horas) e seguir posteriormente com incrementos de 20-30 minutos até atingir as 16-17 horas de iluminação. A intensidade da luz durante a fase de produção de ovos é unânime em considerar os valores de 10-15 lux como os mais adequados, desde que exista homogeneidade na sua distribuição. Atualmente, as recomendações das diferentes casas comerciais de estirpes de poedeiras são mais elevadas: na ordem de 20 a 30 lux. Níveis muito superiores não têm efeito sobre a produção de ovos e podem desencadear problemas de arranque de penas quando a intensidade é excessiva. 4.3 Outros programas de iluminação Em instalações de ambiente controlado os custos energéticos representam um capítulo importante dentro dos custos de uma exploração avícola. A fim de economizar energia, uma série de programas de iluminação vem sendo ensaiada, especialmente para a fase de postura, que poderíamos englobar em dois grupos: a) intermitentes ou fracionados. b) Não ajustados a 24 horas. 5. HIGIENE E MANEJO DA INCUBAÇÃO A higiene de todo o processo de incubação deve servir para estabelecer uma primeira medida de ruptura da cadeia de infecção. Há uma série de doenças como Marek, pulorose, encefalomielite aviária, micoplasmose, etc., que estão associadas ao processo de incubação. A higiene de todo o processo deve corresponder inicialmente ao controle na exploração, de tal forma que os reprodutores devem estar, do ponto de vista sanitário, em perfeitas condições e estendê-las ao manejo mecânico do ovo, regulação de entradas e saídas e igualmente a todas as instalações. Antes de continuar com o manejo do ovo para a incubadora, convém recordar alguns aspectos do desenvolvimento embrionário que ocorre dentro da própria galinha: o ovo é fertilizado na parte distal do infundíbulo cerca de 15 minutos após a ovulação, e quando se encontra no istmo (às 5 horas) já se produzem as primeiras divisões celulares. Às 9 horas da ovulação, o blastodermo cresce até um estágio de 256 células e antes da oviposição a formação do tubo digestivo (gastrulação) já está completada no embrião (PARKHURST e MOUNTNEY, 2012). As divisões celulares continuam após a oviposição, desde que as temperaturas estejam acima de 26,8ºC (zero fisiológico). 6. MANEJO DO OVO PARA A INCUBAÇÃO A colheita dos ovos nas explorações de reprodução deve ser efetuada com uma certa periodicidade (três a cinco vezes por dia), a fim de evitar problemas de roturas e de ovos sujos. Não devemos esquecer que a colocação em um mesmo ninho de vários ovos originam modificações nas temperaturas dos mesmos (superiores a zero fisiológico), que poderiam estar associadas a um reinício das divisões celulares no embrião. Uma vez recolhidos, os ovos devem ser instalados num armazém que permita manter uma temperatura de 15-18ºC (nunca inferior a 10ºC) e uma umidade de 70-75% para evitar uma perda de peso excessiva. A temperatura de armazenagem dos ovos para incubação pode variar em função do tempo em que permanecerão armazenados, pelo que é conveniente programar temperaturas mais baixas para um período de armazenagem mais longo. Alguns autores estabelecem que os ovos que permanecerem 3 dias na incubadora podem ser programados com temperaturas de 15ºC, enquanto que os que se armazenam por mais de 9 dias a temperatura recomendada é de 12ºC. Os ovos com problemas de casca, tais como calcificações defeituosas, quebra ou fissura, ovos com formas anormais e ovos com casca lisa e bem formada, devem ser eliminados na própria instalação. A uniformidade do tamanho dos ovos é um aspecto a destacar e o intervalo de peso mais adequado é de 55-65 g. Os ovos de maior tamanho sempre apresentam níveis mais elevados de problemas de casca e o período de incubação do mesmo é superior (até mais de 12 horas), por isso não é aconselhável introduzi-los na incubadora, assim como os ovos pequenos e os de gema dupla. Os trabalhos de Ron Jones (1978) evidenciam a importância do tamanho dos ovos ao considerar que as perdas de peso por evaporação são mais rápidas nos ovos de menor peso, e inclusive assinala que os ovos de casca branca são mais porosos, sugerindo sua incubação separada em função do tamanho. A desinfecção dos ovos (fumigação) com uma solução de formalina é prática corrente (45 ml de uma solução de formalina a 40% e 30 g de permanganato de potássio por metro cúbico de espaço ou 10 g/m3 de paraformaldeído aquecido num fumigador eléctrico), segundo as recomendações do Guia Cobb (1991). Um excesso de gás formaldeído pode ser neutralizado através da introdução de amoníaco líquido concentrado, 20 ml/m3. Pode também utilizar-se uma solução de cloro (500 ppm) a 43ºC durante 2 minutos, bem como produtos com amônio quaternário. Quando o tempo de armazenamento dos ovos para incubação é inferior a uma semana, a posição dos ovos para incubação dificilmente influencia a incubabilidade posterior. No entanto, quando o tempo de armazenamento excede 2 semanas, a incubabilidade dos ovos melhora se eles são virados diariamente. Romanoff, em 1960, estabeleceu os valores de incubabilidade dos ovos em função do tempo de armazenagem, verificando-se que, à medida que o período de tempo entre a postura dos ovos e a colocação na incubadora aumenta, os resultados de incubação diminuem, como pode ser observado na tabela 1: Tabela 1: Valores de incubalidade dos ovos em função do tempo de armazenamento -/- Período de armazenamento (dias) Incubalidade (%) 14 80 21 70 28 30 32 < 10 Fonte: ROMANOFF, 1960. Para evitar mudanças bruscas de temperatura (da sala de armazenamento da incubadora), que podem causar transpirações nos ovos, recomenda-se um aumento gradual da temperatura (12 a 18 horas antes de serem introduzidos na incubadora). Os ovos fecundados que são submetidos a longos percursos até chegarem ao incubatório devem ser mantidos no armazém durante 1 ou 2 dias antes de serem colocados nas incubadoras, melhorando assim os resultados de incubação. Através dos poros há uma troca de gases durante o armazenamento. O dióxido de carbono difunde-se no exterior e a sua concentração no ovo diminui rapidamente nas primeiras 12 horas após a postura. Se juntarmos as perdas de vapor de água, descobriremos que o armazenamento tem um impacto negativo nos resultados finais do processo de incubação. Experimentalmente, o tempo de armazenagem dos ovos fertilizados pode ser prolongado através da embalagem hermética em atmosfera de nitrogênio ou de anidrido carbônico, incluindo o revestimento de óleos. Alguns incubatórios testam o revestimento dos ovos com materiais plásticos para evitar tais perdas, todavia não é muito indicado, uma vez que lacra a passagem do oxigênio exterior para o embrião interior. No caso de nos depararmos com ovos sujos, e apesar dos condicionantes sanitários que vão associados, pode-se recorrer à sua limpeza e lavá-lo com água e algum desinfetante. Se a limpeza for excessiva, deve considerar-se a alteração que pode ter sofrido a cutícula da casca, pelo que não se recomenda a raspagem manual ou mecânica da mesma. De acordo com o estabelecido pelo Guia Cobb (1991), os efeitos mais importantes do armazenamento dos ovos são: a) O armazenamento prolonga o tempo de incubação e, em média, um dia de armazenamento prolonga o tempo de incubação por 1 hora. b) A armazenagem reduz a incubabilidade dos ovos. Este efeito, descrito acima, é quantificado de forma que a partir do quinto dia de armazenamento, cada dia de armazenamento adicional representa perdas de 0,5 a 1% na incubabilidade. c) O peso dos ovos pode diminuir quando o armazenamento dos ovos é de 14 dias ou mais. 6.1 Carregamento dos ovos na incubadora Embora ainda existam incubatórios que introduzem os ovos diretamente do armazém para a incubadora, recomenda-se um pré-aquecimento suave dos ovos até atingir temperaturas próximas dos 23ºC em 6 horas, independentemente da temperatura de partida. Duas horas antes de serem colocados na incubadora, a temperatura considerada ideal é de 28ºC. 6.2 Tempo de incubação Como já foi explicado acima, o tempo necessário para a incubação dos ovos de galinha deriva de uma função de vários fatores, de modo que os 21 dias e 4 horas (508 horas) que são definidos como tempo de referência podem ser ligeiramente modificados. 7. FATORES ENVOLVIDOS NO PROCESSO DE INCUBAÇÃO Os resultados obtidos por diferentes incubatórios variam consideravelmente de um para outros. As causas destas variações podem estar relacionadas ao manejo dos reprodutores, fertilidade dos ovos e na própria incubação. Cada empresa que dispõe de incubatórios desenvolve seu próprio método de operação no processo de incubação e seus padrões de qualidade exigidos nos pintainhos são geralmente variáveis. Vários fatores que desempenham um papel importante no processo de incubação já foram descritos ao comentar o manejo do ovo para incubação: uniformidade de pesos, qualidade de casca, armazenamento, etc., por isso é necessário assinalar os parâmetros a controlar na incubadora e no nascedouro. Em suma, podem ser estabelecidas as seguintes condições: Parâmetros Incubadora Nascedouro Temperatura (ºC) 37,5 – 37,7 37,1 Umidade relativa (%) 55 – 60 < 75 Ventilação (m3/minuto/1000 ovos) 0,14 0,23 – 0,28 Nível de CO2 0,3 – 0,4 0,5 – 0,6 Nível de O2 21 21 Número de viagens/dia < 4 – 6 — Tabela 2: Condições aceitas para a incubação dos ovos e nascimento dos pintainhos. 7.1 Manejo com os pintainhos de 1 dia – do incubatório para os galpões Numa sala convenientemente climatizada, 22-25 ºC e 70-80% de umidade, procedem-se as seguintes operações: a) Triagem dos pintainhos - Eliminando os que apresentem anomalias ou tenham pouca viabilidade/vitalidade, problemas nos membros, bico, olhos, se apresentam-se fracos, etc. b) Sexagem dos pintainhos - A separação dos sexos tem um interesse relativo no caso dos criadouros e criadores, mas é uma operação obrigatória quando o que interessa é produzir galinhas de postura ou reprodutores. Para o processo de separação por sexo podem ser utilizados dois sistemas: — Exame da cloaca, seguindo o método de Masui e Hashimoto, no qual é preciso evaginar a cloaca, mediante pressão, e através de uma luz direta observar as protuberâncias que correspondem a cada sexo. A aplicação desta técnica requer um elevado grau de especialização e os erros daí resultantes são insignificantes. Como regra a seguir, quando se aplica esta técnica, é que sua realização deve estar o mais próximo possível ao momento do nascimento. — Mediante o exame de caracteres ligados ao sexo, os caracteres usados para a determinação do sexo nas aves são vários: cores da plumagem (prateados frente a dourados: lisos frente a barrados), mas o mais empregado na atualidade faz referência à comparação dos comprimentos das penas primárias frente às de cobertura (quando as penas primárias são mais longas que as de cobertura, é uma fêmea). Esta técnica também é realizada dentro de poucas horas de nascimento. c) Vacinação dos pintainhos - Durante as primeiras horas de vida, as aves são normalmente alimentadas por via oral (spray) ou por injeção (com vacina manual ou automática). Vacina-se, também, contra várias doenças no primeiro dia de vida dos pintainhos, como a Marek, Gumboro e Bouba Aviária. d) Embalagem - Desenvolvidas as anteriores operações e já dentro da zona de expedição, realiza-se a última triagem e classificação (no caso dos reprodutores e das frangas, o processo pode ter conotações comerciais e podem apresentar-se no mercado várias classes em função da qualidade do produto, que, neste caso, é normalmente o peso), para posteriormente, contar e introduzi-las nas embalagens correspondentes, que podem ser retornáveis ou não. Nas embalagens normalmente introduz-se uma centena de aves (2 por 100) sem custo como regra de compensação às baixas iniciais. Em todas estas operações, o controle da temperatura e da humidade deve ser rigoroso, tal como descrito acima. e) Transporte - Os veículos de transporte devem estar equipados com sistemas auxiliares de calor e arrefecimento que permitam garantir condições estabelecidas, independentemente da situação atmosférica externa. A temperatura do ar fornecido no transporte deve ser de 28ºC quando as frangas estão em embalagens de plástico, enquanto que se forem de papelão a temperatura requerida pode ser bastante inferior (20ºC), segundo o Guia Cobb (1991). A distribuição da carga no transporte (para que a distribuição térmica seja homogénea), o controle contínuo das condições ambientais e os cuidados na condução e na descarga da mercadoria são os últimos aspectos importantes a assinalar. 8. RESUMO E PRIMEIRAS CONCLUSÕES No presente trabalho, tentou-se expor de forma sucinta os aspectos relacionados com a postura dos ovos: irregularidades no início da postura, sequência de postura, intensidade de postura, curva de postura, período de postura e distribuição de oviposições. O controle da iluminação, com seus diferentes programas, tanto em recria como em postura, é objeto de especial desenvolvimento. Uma terceira parte trata da questão da incubação artificial, começando pela higiene e manejo da incubação. É feita especial referência ao manejo dos ovos a serem incubados, e se resume os fatores que controlam o processo de incubação. -/- Emanuel Isaque Cordeiro da Silva – Departamento de Zootecnia da UFRPE. Recife, 2020. -/- REFERÊNCIAS BIBLIOGRÁFICAS -/- ABAD, M. et al. Reproducción e incubación en avicultura. Real Escuela de Avicultura. España, 2003. CAMPOS, Egladson João. Avicultura: razões, fatos e divergências. São Paulo: FEP-MVZ, 2000. COBB. Manual de manejo de frangos Cobb 500: guia de manejo. São Paulo: Cobb-Vantress Brasil, 2001 CONTO, L. A. Avicultura de postura. Avicultura Industrial, v. 1121, n. 95, 2004. ENSMINGER, M. Eugene. Zootecnia general. Buenos Aires: Centro Regional de Ayuda Técnica, 1973. ESTEBAN, José María Lasheras; ROCHA, Luís Oliveira. Manual de avicultura. Lisboa: Litexa, 1951. LANA, Geraldo Roberto Quintão. Avicultura. Recife: Livraria e Editora Rural Ltda, 2000. LOPES, Jackeline Cristina Ost. Caderno Didático de Avicultura (UFRN/UFPI). Cadernos Pronatec Goiás, v. 1, n. 1, p. 74-173, 2018. MENHER, A. La gallina. Zaragoza: Acribia, 1969. MACARI, Marcos. Manejo da incubação. Campinas: Facta, 2003. MALAQUIAS, Jessica Dantas. Manejo de galinhas poedeiras. 2019. Trabalho de Conclusão de Curso. Graduação em Zootecnia, UFRPE. 42f. Brasil. MALAVAZZI, Gilberto. Avicultura: manual prático. São Paulo: NBL Editora, 1983. PARKHURST, Carmen; MOUNTNEY, George J. Poultry meat and egg production. Berlim: Springer Science & Business Media, 2012. ROMANOFF, A.L. The Avian Embryo. New York: The Macmillan Co., 1960. RON JONES. A closer look at incubation. Poultry International. Vol 17. n° 2. ROSE, S. P. et al. Principles of poultry science. Nova Iorque: CAB International, 1997. WHITE, Fred N.; KINNEY, James L. Avian incubation. Science, v. 186, n. 4159, p. 107-115, 1974. (shrink)

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