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)

Direct neurological and especially imaging-driven investigations into the structures essential to naturally occurring cognitive systems in their development and operation have motivated broadening interest in the potential for artificial consciousness modeled on these systems. This first paper in a series of three begins with a brief review of Boltuc’s (2009) “brain-based” thesis on the prospect of artificial consciousness, focusing on his formulation of h-consciousness. We then explore some of the implications of brain research on the structure of consciousness, finding limitations (...) in biological approaches to the study of consciousness. Looking past these limitations, we introduce research in artificial consciousness designed to test for the emergence of consciousness, a phenomenon beyond the purview of the study of existing biological systems. (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)

Joseph Butler was an Anglican priest and later a bishop who wrote about ethics, religion, and other philosophical themes. He is not well known today. During his lifetime and into the early part of the twentieth century he was better known especially for his major work the Analogy of Religion (1736). Today he is known mostly for his sermons which are interpreted as essays on ethics and for his essay on identity. Butler had a profound effect on J. H. Newman, (...) Matthew Arnold, and W. E. Gladstone and some effect on many other popular, academic, and professional readers. This book is as much about Butler’s sources and his reception as it is about the way he arranged and presented the evidence in the first half of the 18th century. He was a good man and is recognized by the Anglican church as a divine. We have no interest in taking a nostalgic look at a quaint figure in English church history. To those who claim Butler is unknown, that he was “blown out of the water” by John Wesley or Karl Barth, or Cornelius van Til, we can only say Butler is not as well known in the 20th and 21st centuries as in the 19th, but he is certainly not unknown to those who have taken any interest in philosophy, religion, or ethics. Today there has been a revival of interest in Bishop Butler. Our concern is to build and maintain a bridge that will help to keep this momentum. He offers an ethic that is universal and clearly Christian, yet it is based on the nature of man. Kant had a similar project, but in our opinion, Butler makes more compelling arguments. What is of interest to the Christian apologist is Butler’s work in this area. The purpose of this book is to present Butler’s ideas. We believe that his ethics have a universality that is applicable to people of all religious faiths and those that have none. It is common sense way of looking at ethics for everyday interaction. This book is a narrative argument presenting in detail how Butler’s creative arrangement of the evidence served as a bridge between the ancients as known in the Greek, Latin, and Hebrew originals, and the moderns, mostly Anglophone, who constituted Butler’s work environment and his reception in the latter day down to the present. We can hardly expect everyone to agree with Butler on all points, we certainly do not. The point at issue is rather whether he merits a seat at the present-day round table of deliberation on matters pertaining to philosophy, religion, and ethics. (shrink)

Designer babies are often presented in the popular media as a kind of apocalyptical spectre of things to come in a brave new world where reproduction is the province of white coated scientists and potential parents in pursuit of trophy children. In this realm physical, intellectual, and social perfection is sought through the manipulation of genes and selection of favoured traits and attributes to the detriment of individuals who cannot compete and of society more generally through the loss of (...) natural selection. It is therefore a pleasure to discover a short readable book that sets out the discussion and its many nuances in concise and accurate terms that will be accessible to all and should help to dispel some of these science fiction myths through scholarly debate.This volume is part of a collection of books under the title Debating Matters that sprang out of a series of public debates organised by the Institute of Ideas. The conferences were intended to reinvigorate debate and the contestation of ideas and contemporary issues the Institute regards as “too frequently sidelined”. The arguments are presented by an authoritative who’s who of commentators who offer their own insightful readings of various aspects of the debate. Each essayist confirms the fact that the term “ designer babies ” is an inaccurate reflection of the current ability of science to actively fashion children with selected characteristics, and as a result …. (shrink)

We have been left with a big challenge, to articulate consciousness and also to prove it in an artificial agent against a biological standard. After introducing Boltuc’s h-consciousness in the last paper, we briefly reviewed some salient neurology in order to sketch less of a standard than a series of targets for artificial consciousness, “most-consciousness” and “myth-consciousness.” With these targets on the horizon, we began reviewing the research program pursued by Jun Tani and colleagues in the isolation of the formal (...) dynamics essential to either. In this paper, we describe in detail Tani’s research program, in order to make the clearest case for artificial consciousness in these systems. In the next paper, the third in the series, we will return to Boltuc’s naturalistic non-reductionism in light of the neurorobotics models introduced (alongside some others), and evaluate them more completely. (shrink)

Awareness of, and respect for differences of gender, race, religion, language, and culture have liberated many oppressed groups from the hegemony of white, Western males. However, respect for previously denigrated collective identities should not be allowed to confine individuals to identities constructed around one main component used for political mobilisation, or to identities that depend on a priority of properties that are not optional, like race, gender, and language. In this article I want to sketch an approach for accommodating (...) different kinds of identity within a multicultural constitutional democracy. From a vantage point provided by a definition and explanation of personal identity, I want to show how people define, construct and change their personal identities to make themselves into unique individuals. Next I show how democratic political institutions and the personal identities of individuals reciprocally influence one another. In the final section I sketch ways in which diverse personal identities ought to be accommodated in multicultural constitutional democracies. The conclusion is that a society which gives its members the liberty, space, and opportunity to freely construct their own identities might avoid the formation of closed groups committed exclusively to their own sectional interests. (shrink)

Abstract: In this paper an Artificial Neural Network (ANN) model, for predicting the Letters from twenty dissimilar fonts for each letter. The character images were, initially, based on twenty dissimilar fonts and each letter inside these twenty fonts was arbitrarily distorted to yield a file of 20,000 distinctive stimuli. Every stimulus was transformed into 16 simple numerical attributes (arithmetical moments and edge amounts) which were then ascended to be suitable into a range of numeral values from 0 to 15. We (...) naturally chose, arbitrarily, 1,000 distinctive stimuli for this research. We made certain that the scattering remnants the similar after selecting the one thousand stimuli. In this research, a neural network tool (Just NN) was used for the purpose of predicting to classify every of a huge number of black and white four-sided pixel displays as one of the 26 capital letters in the English language. (shrink)

Background: Broccoli is an edible green plant in the cabbage family (family Brassicaceae, genus Brassica) whose large flowering head, stalk and small associated leaves are eaten as a vegetable. A leaf of Broccoli might be affected of Several Diseases descriped in this paper . When symptoms is encountered, it requires some kind of medical care. If appropriate Survival of Broccoli Diseases is not taken quickly, it can lead to Broccoli to die . Objectives: The main goal of this expert system (...) is to get the appropriate diagnosis of disease and the correct treatment. Methods: In this paper the design of the proposed Expert System which was produced to help Farmers in diagnosing many of the broccoli diseases such as : Damping Off,Club root of crucifers or Finger and toe disease,Alternaria leaf spot,Black rot,Downy mildew, and White rust. (shrink)

Recent studies show that racism still exists in the American medical profession, the fact of which legitimizes the historically long-legacy of mistrust towards medical profession and health authorities among African Americans. Thus, it was suspected that the participation of black patients in end-of-life care has always been significantly low stemmed primarily from their mistrust of the medical profession. On the other hand, much research finds that there are other reasons than the mistrust which makes African Americans feel reluctant to the (...) end-of-life care, such as cultural-religious difference and genuine misunderstanding of the services. If so, two crucial questions are raised. One is how pervasive or significant the mistrust is, compared to the other factors, when they opt out of the end-of-life care. The other is if there is a remedy or solution to the seemingly broken relationship. While no studies available answer these questions, we have conducted an experiment to explore them. The research was performed at two Philadelphia hospitals of Mercy Health System, and the result shows that Black patients’ mistrust is not too great to overcome and that education can remove the epistemic obstacles as well as overcome the mistrust. (shrink)

Aworkshop was held August 26–28, 2015, by the Earth- Life Science Institute (ELSI) Origins Network (EON, see Appendix I) at the Tokyo Institute of Technology. This meeting gathered a diverse group of around 40 scholars researching the origins of life (OoL) from various perspectives with the intent to find common ground, identify key questions and investigations for progress, and guide EON by suggesting a roadmap of activities. Specific challenges that the attendees were encouraged to address included the following: What key (...) questions, ideas, and investigations should the OoL research community address in the near and long term? How can this community better organize itself and prioritize its efforts? What roles can particular subfields play, and what can ELSI and EON do to facilitate research progress? (See also Appendix II.) The present document is a product of that workshop; a white paper that serves as a record of the discussion that took place and a guide and stimulus to the solution of the most urgent and important issues in the study of the OoL. This paper is not intended to be comprehensive or a balanced representation of the opinions of the entire OoL research community. It is intended to present a number of important position statements that contain many aspirational goals and suggestions as to how progress can be made in understanding the OoL. The key role played in the field by current societies and recurring meetings over the past many decades is fully acknowledged, including the International Society for the Study of the Origin of Life (ISSOL) and its official journal Origins of Life and Evolution of Biospheres, as well as the International Society for Artificial Life (ISAL). (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)

Extreme Permissivism is the view that a body of evidence could rationally permit both the attitude of belief and disbelief towards a proposition. This paper puts forward a new argument against Extreme Permissivism, which improves on a similar style of argument due to Roger White (2005, 2014). White’s argument is built around the principle that the support relation between evidence and a hypothesis is objective: so that if evidence E makes it rational for an agent to believe a (...) hypothesis H, then E makes it rational to believe H, for all agents. In this paper, I construct a new argument against Extreme Permissivism that appeals to a logically weaker, less demanding view about evidential support, Relational Objectivity: whether a body of evidence E is more likely if H is true than if H is false is an objective matter and does not depend on how any agent interprets the relationship between E and H. Relational Objectivity is solely concerned with the conditional probabilities called likelihoods and does not put substantive constraints on an agent’s prior and posterior credences. For this reason, the presented argument avoids the standard permissivist criticism levelled against White’s argument. (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)

The racist killing of Georg Floyd in the Summer of 2020 created waves of protests not only in the U.S. but all over the globe. In Turkey, my home country, there were also street demonstrations that demanded justice for Floyd, but “Twitter activism” was more popular. Turkish-speaking-twitter became a hotbed for condemnations. Amidst an array of tweets condemning Floyd’s racist killing, one stood out and made it to the headlines of alternative media outlets. A former official of the authoritarian Turkish (...) government, Yusuf Yerkel, wrote the following tweet in Turkish on June 5, 2020, in response to Floyd’s racist killing; here, I provide an English translation of his infamous tweet (the Turkish original of which is still available on Yerkel’s account on Twitter): “The reason that protests grew to this extent in the U.S. seems to be based on a phenomenon, in H. Arendt’s terms, ‘banality of evil,’ which has become evident in the face of Floyd’s murder. An ordinary White cop’s atrocity as an “everyday job” was the tipping point.” Yerkel herein uses Arendt’s notion of the banality of evil (see esp. p. 287 of the book) to describe Derek Chauvin’s atrocious act, where the evil of racist police violence has become ordinary, banal, and “every day.”. (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)

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)

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)

Husserl’s early picture of explanation in the sciences has never been completely provided. This lack represents an oversight, which we here redress. In contrast to currently accepted interpretations, we demonstrate that Husserl does not adhere to the much maligned deductive-nomological (DN) model of scientific explanation. Instead, via a close reading of early Husserlian texts, we reveal that he presents a unificationist account of scientific explanation. By doing so, we disclose that Husserl’s philosophy of scientific explanation is no mere anachronism. It (...) is, instead, tenable and relevant. We discuss how Husserl and other contemporary thinkers draw theoretical inspiration from the same source—namely, Bernard Bolzano. Husserl’s theory of scientific explanation shares a common language and discusses the same themes as, for example, Phillip Kitcher and Kit Fine. To advance our novel reading, we discuss Husserl’s investigations of grounding, inter-lawful explanation, intra-mathematical explanation, and scientific unification. (shrink)

How should we respond to the humanity of others? Should we care for others’ well-being? Respect them as autonomous agents? Largely neglected is an answer we can find in the religious traditions of Judaism, Christianity and Buddhism: we should love all. This paper argues that an ideal of love for all can be understood apart from its more typical religious contexts and moreover provides a unified and illuminating account of the the nature and grounds of morality. I defend a novel (...) account of love for all that avoids serious worries about the incoherence or impossibility of loving everyone. Doing so requires countenancing a neglected form of love. Love admits as its object not just individual entities like people and groups; we can also bear a love for the Fs in general---for all the Joneses, all the philosophers, or even all the human beings. I go on to argue that while it is possible for ordinary agents like us to love all, we shouldn't. Instead, we should approximate love for all. The minimal approximation of love for all is, surprisingly, respect; I derive the basic, structural features of deontological ethics (including anti-paternalism and anti-aggregation) from the ideal of loving all. (NB: This paper used to be titled "Ethics in the Shadow of Love" and has been cited as an unpublished manuscript under that title.). (shrink)

What experimental game theorists may have demonstrated is not that people are systematically irrational but that human rationality is heavily scaffolded. Remove the scaffolding, and we do not do very well. People are able to get on because they “offload” an enormous amount of practical reasoning onto their environment. As a result, when they are put in novel or unfamiliar environments, they perform very poorly, even on apparently simple tasks. -/- This observation is supported by recent empirically informed shifts in (...) philosophy of mind toward a view of cognition as (to cite the current slogan) “embodied, embedded, enactive, extended.” Andy Clark and others have made a very plausible case for the idea that a proper assessment of human cognitive competence must include environmental components. To limit our attention to what lies within the skin-skull boundary is, in effect, to miss the big story on human rationality. Insofar as we are rational, it is often because of our ingenuity at developing “work-arounds” to the glitches in the fast-and-frugal heuristic problem-solving capabilities that natural selection has equipped us with. And these work-arounds often involve a detour through the environment (so-called offloading of cognitive burdens). -/- When it comes to practical rationality, things are no different. Yet in many discussions of “the will,” there is still a tendency to put too much emphasis on what goes on inside the agent’s head. Our objective in this chapter is to articulate this conception of “the extended will” more clearly, using the strategies that people employ to overcome procrastination for the central set of examples. Procrastination, in our view, constitutes a particular type of self-control problem, one that is particularly amenable to philosophical reflection, not only because of the high volume of psychological research on the subject but also because of the large quantity of “self-help” literature in circulationa literature that provides an invaluable perspective on the everyday strategies that people use in order to defeat (or, better yet, circumvent) this type of self-defeating behavior pattern. In general, what we find is that the internalist bias that permeates discussions of the will gives rise to a set of practical recommendations that overemphasize changing the way one thinks about a task, while ignoring the much richer set of strategies that are available in the realm of environmental scaffolding. In the concluding section, we highlight some of the policy implications of this, particularly regarding social trends involving the dismantling of support structures. (shrink)

This essay disambiguates the relationship between phenomenology and explanation, whereby we uncover a fundamentally new way to understand the function of phenomenology within the sciences. These objectives are accomplished in two stages. First, we propose an original way to interpret Husserl's claim that his phenomenology is non-explanatory. We demonstrate, contra accepted interpretations, that Husserl did not think phenomenology is non-explanatory, because it is descriptive or because it does not deal with causes. Instead, we demonstrate that Husserl concluded that phenomenology is (...) non-explanatory, because it engages in a dialectical process of conceptual clarification. To substantiate this interpretation, we examine how Husserl understood the function of explanation in three different tiers of standard science and how he grasped the role of phenomenology in pure logic. Having properly clarified Husserl's conclusion—that phenomenology is non-explanatory—we then execute our second task, namely to challenge just that idea. We argue that Husserl has—despite his claims to the contrary—de facto and inadvertently described his phenomenology as an explanatory nomological science. Our paper therefore not only clears up a longstanding misinterpretation of Husserl, but opens a new area of debate concerning the status of phenomenology within the scientific nexus. (shrink)

Society, based on contract and voluntary exchange, is evolving, but remains only partly developed. Goods and services that meet the needs of individuals, such as food, clothing, and shelter, are amply produced and distributed through the market process. However, those that meet common or community needs, while distributed through the market, are produced politically through taxation and violence. These goods attach not to individuals but to a place; to enjoy them, individuals must go to the place where they are. Land (...) owners, all unknowingly, distribute such services contractually as they rent or sell sites. Rent or price is the market value of such services, net after disservices, as they affect each site. By distributing occupancies to those who can pay the highest price, land owners’ interests align with those of society. Without this, tenure would be precarious—by force or favor of politicians. The 18th-century separation of land from state, so little studied by historians, permitted the development of modern property in land. This change is perhaps “the greatest single step in the evolution of Society the world has ever seen.” When land owners realize that they market community services, they will organize to produce and administer them as well, and society will be made whole. (shrink)

Both Philip and Andrew are philosophy students whose interests converge around the philosophy of technology broadly understood. Philip's interest is specifically aimed toward the ethics of Transhumanism and depictions of Transhumanism in works of fiction. On the other hand, Andrew finds himself more focused on religious behavior in the technological world. While the two perspectives might not seem that close, there is certain to be an overlap in Andrew and Philip's shared understanding of how technological phenomena play a crucial role (...) concerning religion and society. (shrink)

A critical survey of recent work in epistemology on higher-order evidence. It discusses the nature of higher-order evidence, some puzzles it raises, responses to those puzzles, and problems facing them. It concludes by indicating connections between debates concerning higher-order evidence in epistemology and parallel debates in ethics and aesthetics.

The article reflects on where AI is headed and the world along with it, considering trust, ethics and safety. Implicit in artificial thinking and doomsday appraisals is the engineered divorce from reality of sublime human embodiment. Jeffrey White, Dietrich Brandt, Jan Soeffner, and Larry Stapleton, four scholars associated with AI & Society, address these issues, and more, in the following exchange.

At the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic, high hopes were placed on digital contact tracing. Digital contact tracing apps can now be downloaded in many countries, but as further waves of COVID-19 tear through much of the northern hemisphere, these apps are playing a less important role in interrupting chains of infection than anticipated. We argue that one of the reasons for this is that most countries have opted for decentralised apps, which cannot provide a means of rapidly informing users (...) of likely infections while avoiding too many false positive reports. Centralised apps, in contrast, have the potential to do this. But policy making was influenced by public debates about the right app configuration, which have tended to focus heavily on privacy, and are driven by the assumption that decentralised apps are “privacy preserving by design”. We show that both types of apps are in fact vulnerable to privacy breaches, and, drawing on principles from safety engineering and risk analysis, compare the risks of centralised and decentralised systems along two dimensions, namely the probability of possible breaches and their severity. We conclude that a centralised app may in fact minimise overall ethical risk, and contend that we must reassess our approach to digital contact tracing, and should, more generally, be cautious about a myopic focus on privacy when conducting ethical assessments of data technologies. (shrink)

Edward Wilson wrote in Consilience that “Human history can be viewed through the lens of ecology as the accumulation of environmental prostheses” (1999 p 316), with technologies mediating our collective habitation of the Earth and its complex, interdependent ecosystems. Wilson emphasized the defining characteristic of complex systems, that they undergo transformations which are irreversible. His view is now standard, and his central point bears repeated emphasis, today: natural systems can be broken, species—including us—can disappear, ecosystems can fail, and technological prostheses (...) potentiate rather than ameliorate disaster when the fragilities that they introduce into our evolutionary co-dependencies with natural systems, and with each other, are under-appreciated. (shrink)

First-order evidence is evidence which bears on whether a proposition is true. Higher-order evidence is evidence which bears on whether a person is able to assess her evidence for or against a proposition. A widespread view is that higher-order evidence makes a difference to whether it is rational for a person to believe a proposition. In this paper, I consider in what way higher-order evidence might do this. More specifically, I consider whether and how higher-order evidence plays a role in (...) determining what it is rational to believe distinct from that which first-order evidence plays. To do this, I turn to the theory of reasons, and try to situate higher-order evidence within it. The only place I find for it there, distinct from that which first-order evidence already occupies, is as a practical reason, that is, as a reason for desire or action. One might take this to show either that the theory of reasons is inadequate as it stands or that higher-order evidence makes no distinctive difference to what it is rational to believe. I tentatively endorse the second option. (shrink)

A normative reason for a person to? is a consideration which favours?ing. A motivating reason is a reason for which or on the basis of which a person?s. This paper explores a connection between normative and motivating reasons. More specifically, it explores the idea that there are second-order normative reasons to? for or on the basis of certain first-order normative reasons. In this paper, I challenge the view that there are second-order reasons so understood. I then show that prominent views (...) in contemporary epistemology are committed to the existence of second-order reasons, specifically, views about the epistemic norms governing practical reasoning and about the role of higher-order evidence. If there are no second-order reasons, those views are mistaken. (shrink)

At this stage of the COVID-19 pandemic, two policy aims are imperative: avoiding the need for a general lockdown of the population, with all its economic, social and health costs, and preventing the healthcare system from being overwhelmed by the unchecked spread of infection. Achieving these two aims requires the consideration of unpalatable measures. Julian Savulescu and James Cameron argue that mandatory isolation of the elderly is justified under these circumstances, as they are at increased risk of becoming severely ill (...) from COVID-19, and are thus likely to put disproportionate strain on limited healthcare resources. However, their arguments for this strategy are contingent on the lack of viable alternatives. We suggest that there is a possible alternative: a mandatory, centralised contact-tracing app. We argue that this strategy is ethically preferable to the selective isolation of the elderly, because it does not target members of a certain group, relying instead on the movements of each individual, and because it avoids the extended isolation of certain members of the society. Although this type of contact-tracing app has its drawbacks, we contend that this measure warrants serious consideration. (shrink)

Politics, Philosophy & Economics, Volume 21, Issue 2, Page 165-189, May 2022. It is generally acknowledged that a certain amount of state intervention in health and health care is needed to address the significant market failures in these sectors; however, it is also thought that the primary rationale for state involvement in health must lie elsewhere, for example in an egalitarian commitment to equalizing access to health care for all citizens. This paper argues that a complete theory of justice in (...) health can be derived from a commitment to correcting market failure, or in other words promoting Pareto-efficiency, in the domain of health. This approach can address familiar problems around access to care, as well as problems related to resource allocation and rationing, the control of health care costs, and the foundations of public health. Egalitarian theories of justice in health cannot make sense of the depth and pervasiveness of state involvement in health and health care; only a theory rooted in the need to correct market failure can. (shrink)

There has been much debate over whether to accept the claim that meaning is normative. One obstacle to making progress in that debate is that it is not always clear what the claim amounts to. In this paper, I try to resolve a dispute between those who advance the claim concerning how it should be understood. More specifically, I critically examine two competing conceptions of the normativity of meaning, rejecting one and defending the other. Though the paper aims to settle (...) a dispute among proponents of the claim that meaning is normative, it should be of interest to those who challenge it. After all, before one takes aim, one’s target needs to be in clear view. (shrink)

What is a normative reason for acting? In this paper, I introduce and defend a novel answer to this question. The starting-point is the view that reasons are right-makers. By exploring difficulties facing it, I arrive at an alternative, according to which reasons are evidence of respects in which it is right to perform an act, for example, that it keeps a promise. This is similar to the proposal that reasons for a person to act are evidence that she ought (...) to do so; however, as I explain, it differs from that proposal in two significant ways. As a result, I argue, the evidence-based account of reasons I advance shares the advantages of its predecessor while avoiding many of the difficulties facing it. (shrink)

Objective reasons are given by the facts. Subjective reasons are given by one’s perspective on the facts. Subjective reasons, not objective reasons, determine what it is rational to do. In this paper, I argue against a prominent account of subjective reasons. The problem with that account, I suggest, is that it makes what one has subjective reason to do, and hence what it is rational to do, turn on matters outside or independent of one’s perspective. After explaining and establishing this (...) point, I offer a novel account of subjective reasons which avoids the problem. (shrink)

An influential proposal is that knowledge involves safe belief. A belief is safe, in the relevant sense, just in case it is true in nearby metaphysically possible worlds. In this paper, I introduce a distinct but complementary notion of safety, understood in terms of epistemically possible worlds. The main aim, in doing so, is to add to the epistemologist’s tool-kit. To demonstrate the usefulness of the tool, I use it to advance and assess substantive proposals concerning knowledge and justification.

Recent research into the nature of self in artificial and biological systems raises interest in a uniquely determining immutable sense of self, a “metaphysical ‘I’” associated with inviolable personal values and moral convictions that remain constant in the face of environmental change, distinguished from an object “me” that changes with its environment. Complementary research portrays processes associated with self as multimodal routines selectively enacted on the basis of contextual cues informing predictive self or world models, with the notion of the (...) constant, per-vasive and invariant sense of self associated with a multistable attractor set aiming to ensure personal integrity against threat of disintegrative change. This paper proposes that an immutable sense of self emerges as a global attractor which can be described as a project ideal self-situation embodied in frontal medial processes during more or less normal adolescent development, and that thereafter serves to orient agency in the more or less free development of embodied potentials over the life course in effort to realize project conditions, phenomenally identified with the felt pull towards this end as purpose of and source of meaning in life. So oriented, life-long self-development aims to embody solutions to problems at different timescales depending on this embodied purpose, ultimately in the service of evolutionary processes securing organism populations against threats of disintegrative change over timespans far beyond that of the individual. After characterizing the target sense of self, research circling this target is briefly surveyed. Self as global project and developmental neural correlates are proposed. Then, the paper discusses some implications for research in biological and artificial systems. Building from earlier work in cognitive neurorobotics, discussion affirms the value of reinforcement rituals including prayer in metaphysical self-development, considers implications for value alignment and rights associated with free will in the context of artificial intelligence and robot religion, and concludes by emphasizing the importance of self-development toward project ideals as source of meaning in life in the current social-political environment. (shrink)

Because anticipated and retrospective regret play important roles in practical deliberation and motivation, better understanding them can illuminate the contours of human agency. However, the possibility of self-ignorance and the fact that we change over time can make regret—especially anticipatory regret—not only a poor predictor of where the agent will be in the future but also an unreliable indicator of where the agent stands. Granting these, this paper examines the way in which prospective and, particularly, retrospective regret can nevertheless yield (...) important insight into the sorts of creatures we are, both generally and individually. The experience of retrospective regret can show a person she values something in a way she did not know or that she is (or was) a different person than she had thought, insights which can factor into forward-looking, or prospective, deliberation. Such instances of revelatory regret reveal something to the agent about herself as agent. I examine two cases of agential self-ignorance. In the first, the experience of regret reveals what the agent values, not only to others but even to the agent himself. In the second, the agent anticipates experiencing regret for an action but does not experience the regret, suggesting that the agent did not value the rejected alternative in the way she thought. Anticipatory regret is forward-looking and can play an important role in practical deliberation. But insofar as anticipatory regret flows from one’s imperfect judgment and prospection about oneself, retrospective regret can be an important corrective in helping the agent understand her own standpoint. (shrink)

Recently in this journal, Jessica Morley and colleagues (AI & SOC 2023 38:411–423) review AI ethics and education, suggesting that a cultural shift is necessary in order to prepare students for their responsibilities in developing technology infrastructure that should shape ways of life for many generations. Current AI ethics guidelines are abstract and difficult to implement as practical moral concerns proliferate. They call for improvements in ethics course design, focusing on real-world cases and perspective-taking tools to immerse students in challenging (...) situations with relatable personal, social and environmental implications. The present paper considers the ACTWith model of moral cognition for use in such training contexts. Morley and colleagues' paper and contemporary literature are reviewed. Whistleblowing as a source for relatable case studies is discussed, and the purpose of ethics education considered. The ACTWith model is introduced, and correlations with contemporaries noted. The ACTWith model has been successfully employed in a broad range of technology ethics courses in the Netherlands and South Korea. Illustrations are offered. Correlations with contemporary efforts are drawn in the context of software engineering. Summary discussion considers strengths and limitations of the ACTWith program. Overall, the paper emphasizes training high-level moral reasoning through guided inquiry education informing lifetime professional practice, and indicates an outstanding need for teachers able to do the job. (shrink)

What does the aesthetic ask of us? What claims do the aesthetic features of the objects and events in our environment make on us? My answer in this paper is: that depends. Aesthetic reasons can only justify feelings – they cannot demand them. A corollary of this is that there are no aesthetic obligations to feel, only permissions. However, I argue, aesthetic reasons can demand actions – they do not merely justify them. A corollary of this is that there are (...) aesthetic obligations to act, not only permissions. So, I conclude, the aesthetic asks little of us as patients and much of as agents. (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)

A popular response to the Exclusion Argument for physicalism maintains that mental events depend on their physical bases in such a way that the causation of a physical effect by a mental event and its physical base needn’t generate any problematic form of causal overdetermination, even if mental events are numerically distinct from and irreducible to their physical bases. This paper presents and defends a form of dualism that implements this response by using a dispositional essentialist view of properties to (...) argue that the psychophysical laws linking mental events to their physical bases are metaphysically necessary. I show the advantages of such a position over an alternative form of dualism that merely places more “modal weight” on psychophysical laws than on physical laws. The position is then defended against the objection that it is inconsistent with dualism. Lastly, some suggestions are made as to how dualists might clarify the contribution that mental causes make to their physical effects. (shrink)

What is aesthetic appreciation? In this paper, I approach this question in an indirection fashion. First, I introduce the Kantian notion of moral worthy action and an influential analysis of it. Next, I generalise that analysis from the moral to the aesthetic domain, and from actions to affects. Aesthetic appreciation, I suggest, consists in an aesthetically worthy affective response. After unpacking the proposal, I show that it has non-trivial implications while cohering with a number of existing insights concerning the nature (...) of appreciation and the constraints to which it is subject. In closing, I note some limitations on the analogy between aesthetic appreciation and morally worthy action. (shrink)

Subjects appear to take only evidential considerations to provide reason or justification for believing. That is to say that subjects do not take practical considerations—the kind of considerations which might speak in favour of or justify an action or decision—to speak in favour of or justify believing. This is puzzling; after all, practical considerations often seem far more important than matters of truth and falsity. In this paper, I suggest that one cannot explain this, as many have tried, merely by (...) appeal to the idea that belief aims only at the truth. I appeal instead to the idea that the aim of belief is to provide only practical reasons which might form the basis on which to act and to make decisions, an aim which is in turn dictated by the aim of action. This, I argue, explains why subjects take only evidential considerations to favour of or justify believing. Surprisingly, then, it turns out that it is practical reason itself which demands that there be no practical reasons for belief. (shrink)

This book contributes to two debates and it does so by bringing them together. The first is a debate in metaethics concerning normative reasons, the considerations that serve to justify a person’s actions and attitudes. The second is a debate in epistemology concerning the norms for belief, the standards that govern a person’s beliefs and by reference to which they are assessed. The book starts by developing and defending a new theory of reasons for action, that is, of practical reasons. (...) The theory belongs to a family that analyses reasons by appeal to the normative notion of rightness (fittingness, correctness); it is distinctive in making central appeal to modal notions, specifically, that of a nearby possible world. The result is a comprehensive framework that captures what is common to and distinctive of reasons of various kinds: justifying and demanding; for and against, possessed and unpossessed; objective and subjective. The framework is then generalized to reasons for belief, that is, to epistemic reasons, and combined with a substantive, first-order commitment, namely, that truth is the sole right-maker for belief. The upshot is an account of the various norms governing belief, including knowledge and rationality, and the relations among them. According to it, the standards to which belief is subject are various, but they are unified by an underlying principle. (shrink)