Drawing on contemporary agency theory and the phenomenological-existential tradition, this paper uses Mr. Stevens, the narrator-butler of Kazuo Ishiguro’s The Remains of the Day, to examine the interplay and potential tensions between different aspects (and thus different standards) of human agency. Highlighting the problem of mission creep described by John Martin Fischer, in which a notion expands beyond the original purpose, I use Stevens’s thoughts on dignity to outline three different ways actions can (or can fail to) trace back to (...) agents—autonomy as self-control, authenticity as sincerity, and authenticity as ownership. I then propose that the way Stevens embraces and acts consistently within his subservient professional role (autonomy as self-control) weakens his ability to take responsibility for his life in the sense required by authenticity as ownership. Because the self-responsibility of authenticity requires normative flexibility (the ability to revise and reshape one’s commitments and values), when normatively inflexible agents act in self-controlled ways according to their roles or welfare standards, they may limit their ability to take responsibility for their lives. In addition to illuminating debates about whether robust human agency is compatible with subservience, the normative flexibility involved in authenticity has implications for human agency more broadly. (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)

Hubert Dreyfus’s work in the phenomenology of agency is distinctive for the privileged and central position he gives to our ability to navigate the everyday world. Drawing on the existential-phenomenological tradition—particularly the work of Heidegger and Merleau-Ponty—Dreyfus characterizes skillful embodied engagement with the world (skillful coping) as the paradigmatic instance of human intelligence and agency. He uses the notion of skillful coping to push against the emphasis on deliberation he finds in the traditional view of human agency. One of Dreyfus’s (...) central claims is that the complex understanding involved in skillful coping need not be highly reflective. -/- Dreyfus connects the ability to respond to the particular significances of a concrete situation with typically existential concerns, such as authenticity. The way Dreyfus connects skillful coping with authenticity exemplifies his syncretic approach in which he synthesizes and, arguably, extends the work of thinkers such as Heidegger and Merleau-Ponty. -/- The concluding section examines one worry about Dreyfus’s characterization of expertise within the skillful coping paradigm. Specifically, does Dreyfus’s rejection of the tradition’s emphasis on deliberation lead him to excessively minimize the role of deliberation as one develops and expands expertise? My suggestion is that there is space for such deliberate learning and skill development for experts within the framework Dreyfus proposes. To flesh out the place of deliberate learning, I draw on both Dreyfus and Merleau-Ponty to suggest how intentionally (and deliberately) trying to live in a certain way is not at odds with but is ultimately crucial for the expertise of absorbed, fluid, and skillful coping in a practical world. (shrink)

In Aspiration, Agnes Callard examines the phenomenon of aspiration, the process by which one acquires values and becomes a certain kind of person. Aspiring to become a certain type of person involves more than wanting to act in certain ways. We want to come to see the world in a certain way and to develop the dispositions, attributes, and skills that allow us to seamlessly and effectively respond to situations. The skilled athlete or musician, for example, has developed the muscle (...) memory and the perceptual equivalent to naturally see what a situation requires and to respond well, whether playing a Rachmaninoff concerto or returning a tennis volley. -/- I use Merleau-Ponty’s Phenomenology of Perception to flesh out the process of becoming, through which aspired-to values, skills, and characteristics become part of one’s embodied being-in-the-world. Although some rightly focus on Merleau-Ponty’s efforts to avoid over-intellectualizing skillful action, without appreciating his distinction between habitual actions and human (or personal) acts, we overlook an important aspect of robust human agency—the way “a human act becomes dormant and is continued absent-mindedly as a reflex” (90). Merleau-Ponty’s account of habit and its relation to personal acts offers a rich and phenomenologically sensitive picture of aspiration. (shrink)

Zuko’s plight illuminates the process of aspiration, including common challenges to the aspirant. As Agnes Callard understands it, aspiration typically involves a “deep change in how one sees and feels and thinks.” And this deep change is often intertwined with a change in what contemporary philosopher Christine Korsgaard calls practical identity, a “description under which you value yourself, . . . under which you find your life to be worth living and your actions to be worth undertaking.” But as Zuko (...) shows, practical identities are complex, sometimes unwieldy, and changes in explicit self-conceptions can take work, time, and perhaps some luck to bring about the deep change one aspires to. Even after he explicitly disavows his past actions, Zuko finds himself reverting to past behaviors, doing things that (on some level) he wishes he would not. These actions frustrate him— “Why am I so bad at being good?”— but they are not mere lapses in judgment. They come naturally and express an identity that Zuko had long embraced and cultivated but is now trying to leave behind. The arc of Zuko’s transformation illustrates the interplay between two dimensions of practical identity. On the one hand, as Korsgaard’s account emphasizes, our explicit self-conceptions and values matter. They guide our actions and shape how we see the world. But Zuko’s struggles suggest that such self-conceptions and aspirations are only part of the story. According to Martin Heidegger’s notion of being-in-the-world, our practical identity depends more on our existential engagement with the world than on our explicit self-conceptions. And these different dimensions of practical identity do not always align. As William Blattner writes, “Some of the most challenging conflicts in our lives arise when who we are existentially engaged in being stands in tension with who we think of ourselves as being.” Zuko is frustrated because, despite consciously trying to change, his being-in-the-world conflicts with his Korsgaardian practical identity. His world is still shaped (residually) by an identity he wants to shed. The way Zuko’s world and actions continue to be shaped by an identity he is trying to leave behind highlights a key difficulty of transformation. Zuko’s desire to prove his worth to his father and his rage have so thoroughly permeated his being-in-the-world that they are second nature. They shape his orientation toward the world and fuel his firebending. For better and worse, his spontaneous actions do not always fall in step with his conscious commitments. The same skills and dispositions Zuko previously cultivated as central to his identity now lead to unwanted actions and keep him from aspired-to actions. To become good in the way he wants, Zuko must not only cultivate the dispositions that will allow his aspired-to identity to become part and parcel of his being-in-the-world, but he must clear out or modify the residual influence of his past identity and related dispositions and values. -/- . (shrink)

Influential interpretations of Heidegger’s Origin of the Work of Art focus on the view that great art is massive and communal—typically structures like temples and cathedrals. This approach, however, faces two interpretive problems. First, what are we to do with artworks in the essay that clearly are not monumental or communal, such as van Gogh’s Shoes? Second, how should we understand our experience of works such as the Greek temple, which once were but are no longer central in this way? (...) Heidegger himself says that great art of the past becomes either a relic of the past or a mere object of aesthetic experience, but his description of his own experience with a Greek temple seems to contradict this. To understand Heidegger’s views on art—including his explicit claims about the limited vitality of great art of the past and his unintentional case for the continued power of great art of the past—it is crucial to distinguish, first, between Heidegger’s notions of world and worldhood, and, second, between two senses of what makes art great—world disclosure and world gathering. Doing so allows us to make better sense both of the essay as a whole and the potential continued vitality of great art of the past. (shrink)

In The Sickness unto Death, Kierkegaard describes selfhood as an achievement, specifically claiming that the self’s task ‘is to become itself’ (SUD, 29/SKS 11, 143). But how can one can become who or what one already is, and what sort of achievement is it? This chapter draws on the work of Christine Korsgaard, another philosopher who sees selfhood as an achievement, using her notion of practical identity to explore Kierkegaard’s accounts of the structure of the self and of selfhood as (...) achievement. Kierkegaard’s treatment of selfhood—as aspirational and, if undertaken well, appropriately grounded in one’s facticity (i.e. the concrete facts of one’s situation)—suggests how consciously endorsed identities can guide (or fail to guide) our agency. Having a practical identity involves striving to inhabit adopted roles by aligning our actions with relevant normative demands, but also sometimes embracing and consciously adopting identities already tacitly guiding our engagement with the world. This framework also suggests several ways we can be alienated from desires, actions, or, more generally, our selves. Putting Kierkegaard in conversation with contemporary agency theory, this chapter has two guiding lines of inquiry. First, what does it mean to achieve selfhood and how can the notion of practical identity illuminate or be illuminated by this question? Second, how can this analysis clarify the experience of not being oneself, whether resulting from self-deception, self-ignorance, or the potentially frustrating gap between who one is and who one wants to be? (shrink)

Dennis Gabor devised a new concept for optical imaging in 1947 that went by a variety of names over the following decade: holoscopy, wavefront reconstruction, interference microscopy, diffraction microscopy and Gaboroscopy. A well-connected and creative research engineer, Gabor worked actively to publicize and exploit his concept, but the scheme failed to capture the interest of many researchers. Gabor’s theory was repeatedly deemed unintuitive and baffling; the technique was appraised by his contemporaries to be of dubious practicality and, at best, constrained (...) to a narrow branch of science. By the late 1950s, Gabor’s subject had been assessed by its handful of practitioners to be a white elephant. Nevertheless, the concept was later rehabilitated by the research of Emmett Leith and Juris Upatnieks at the University of Michigan, and Yury Denisyuk at the Vavilov Institute in Leningrad. What had been judged a failure was recast as a success: evaluations of Gabor’s work were transformed during the 1960s, when it was represented as the foundation on which to construct the new and distinctly different subject of holography, a re-evaluation that gained the Nobel Prize for Physics for Gabor alone in 1971. This paper focuses on the difficulties experienced in constructing a meaningful subject, a practical application and a viable technical community from Gabor’s ideas during the decade 1947-1957. (shrink)

Gottlob Frege sostuvo que las palabras-concepto sólo se refieren a conceptos no a objetos y que los términos singulares se refieren sólo a objetos no a conceptos. Estas tesis dan lugar a la paradoja del concepto, de acuerdo con la cual ‘el concepto F’ no se refiere a ningún concepto. Mark Textor sostiene que su principio del espejar explica el origen del problema. Sin embargo, argumento que su artículo no explica todas las consecuencias de las tesis de Frege y mi (...) supuesto semántico ontológico puede verse como una consecuencia del principio del espejar de Textor. (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)

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

TRANSPORTE DE GAMETAS, FERTILIZAÇÃO E SEGMENTAÇÃO -/- • _____OBJETIVO -/- O entendimento do desenvolvimento embrionário nos estágios iniciais, desde a deposição dos espermatozoides na fêmea, passando pela fertilização deste no ovócito e na formação do zigoto, é de suma importância para diferenciar especialistas em reprodução e manejo reprodutivo no mercado de trabalho e, também, durante a vida acadêmica. Compreender os processos que levam à formação do zigoto na fêmea é essencial para avaliar a capacidade reprodutiva dos animais e, mediante técnicas, (...) avaliar o trato reprodutivo da fêmea e o desenvolvimento do embrião até a formação do feto e, por fim, em um novo animal sadio na propriedade. Com esse trabalho, o estudante de veterinária ou zootecnia, que deseja se aprofundar na fisiologia da reprodução animal, identificará os mecanismos que são envolvidos no transporte dos gametas, bem como os processos que estes últimos devem completar para alcançar a fertilização e para desencadear as divisões iniciais do embrião. -/- • _____INTRODUÇÃO -/- A fertilização ou fecundação é o processo pelo qual os gametas masculino (espermatozoide) e feminino (ovócito) se fundem para gerar um novo indivíduo. Seu êxito depende da culminação adequada dos diferentes processos que devem sofrer os gametas durante sua maduração e percurso; do transporte oportuno destes no trato reprodutivo da fêmea, assim como de uma série de adaptações dos órgãos genitais internos da mãe. A segmentação refere-se às primeiras divisões celulares do embrião. -/- • _____TRANSPORTE DO OVÓCITO -/- O ovócito que é liberado na ovulação, e que se encontra coberto pelas células do cumulus (figura 1), é capturado pela fímbria do infundíbulo ao aderir aos cílios. Esse processo é altamente eficaz, inclusive em espécies onde os ovários possuem várias formações globosas, por exemplo nas porcas, onde os ovidutos capturam entre 95 e 100% dos ovócitos que são ovulados. As contrações das camadas musculares do oviduto e o movimento intenso dos cílios da mucosa faz com que as secreções fluam em direção ao útero, transportando assim o complexo cumulus-ovócito. Esse transporte é relativamente rápido até alcançar a junção da ampola com o istmo (que é considerado o local de fertilização do espermatozoide e ovócito) a partir do qual se torna lento. Devido a fêmea estar em estro, o processo está sob controle endócrino, isto é, controle hormonal através do estradiol. Nas fêmeas domésticas, ao contrário das mulheres, o transporte ao longo do oviduto é extremamente eficiente, pois os embriões passam para o útero sem dificuldade, de modo que gestações ectópicas (tubárias ou em cavidade) são quase inexistentes. A égua, frequentemente, retém por muito tempo os ovócitos não fertilizados no oviduto, provavelmente devido a não secreção de substâncias (como a prostaglandina E) que poderiam favorecer sua passagem, como se propõe que aconteça com os embriões. A figura 2 apresenta um ovócito com suas respectivas estruturas. Figura 1: ovócitos de uma vaca madurados in vitro. Nota-se as células do cumulus que os recobre. -/- Figura 2: estruturas do ovócito de uma ovelha que se encontra na etapa de ovócito secundário, depois da ovulação. Elaborado pelo autor. • _____TRANSPORTE ESPERMÁTICO -/- Para que os espermatozoides sejam capazes de fertilizar o ovócito, deverão sofrer uma série de mudanças bioquímicas e morfológicas ao longo de sua passagem pelo aparelho reprodutor tanto masculino como feminino. Uma vez produzidos na parede do túbulo seminífero, os espermatozoides são liberados em direção ao lúmen tubular e transportados passivamente para uma estrutura ramificada conhecida como rede testicular (rete testis). Dessa rede são conduzidos em direção ao epidídimo passando através de 10 a 20 ductos eferentes localizados no polo superior do testículo. O epidídimo é dividido em três seções denominadas cabeça, corpo e cauda; é constituído por um só ducto longo e tortuoso que continua com o canal deferente. Ao final desemboca nas ampolas seminais, no ducto ejaculatório e na uretra. As funções do epidídimo são as de maduração, transporte e armazenamento dos espermatozoides. O transporte através do epidídimo é lento, aproximadamente de 10 dias em touros, e segue sendo passivo. Os espermatozoides tomados da cabeça do epidídimo são ainda imaturos e incapazes de fertilizar, enquanto os armazenados na cauda são completamente maduros. Durante o trânsito pelo epidídimo os espermatozoides adquirem motilidade e o potencial para fertilizar, o acrossomo é remodelado e a gota citoplasmática migra para o flagelo e é liberada. Quando um macho ejacula com muita frequência, é possível observar espermatozoides com gota citoplasmática no sêmen, já que não há tempo suficiente para que completem sua maduração. Os espermatozoides são expulsados fora do organismo durante a cópula, na masturbação ou em emissões espontâneas. Na ejaculação, os espermatozoides que se encontram suspensos nos fluidos do testículo e do epidídimo, misturam-se ao chegar na uretra com as secreções das glândulas acessórias para formar o sêmen. Essas secreções denominadas plasma seminal, proporcionam substâncias para manter o metabolismo energético das células espermáticas, e integram suas membranas elementos que impedem uma capacitação prematura. Durante a cópula, o sêmen é depositado na vagina ou no útero, variando entre as espécies (tabela 1). Na monta natural, geralmente, o serviço ocorre no momento propício, já que está definido pela fase do ciclo estral em que a fêmea é receptiva ao macho. No entanto, na inseminação artificial, é o macho que deverá determinar o momento ideal, e para isso é importante considerar a vida média dos gametas, ao qual é muito curta no caso dos ovócitos (tabela 1). -/- Tabela 1: local de depósito do sêmen, volume da ejaculação e vida média dos gametas. Espécie Local de deposição Volume (ml) Velocidade de ejaculação Vida média do ovócito Vida média do espermatozoide Bovinos Intravaginal 2 1 – 3 seg 8 h 30 – 48 h Caninos Intravaginal 2 – 30 (10 média) 6 – 45 min 48 – 72 h 9 – 11 d Equinos Intrauterina 50 – 200 20 – 60 seg 6 – 8 h 72 – 120 h Humanos Intravaginal 3 - - 5 – 6 d Ovinos Intravaginal 1 1 – 2 seg 16 – 24 h 30 – 48 h Suínos Intrauterina 200 – 400 5 – 20 min 8 – 10 h 24 – 48 h Onde d = dias; h = horas. A vida fértil do ovócito é muito curta, portanto, o momento do serviço é de grande importância para obter altos índices de fertilização. -/- Independentemente do local em que os espermatozoides sejam depositados no aparelho reprodutor feminino, serão expostos às secreções genitais e sofrem uma série de mudanças em seu trajeto até o local de fertilização antes de penetrar no ovócito. Nas espécies em que o sêmen é depositado na parte cranial da vagina, uma parte do mesmo penetra através da cérvix, enquanto outra parte é eliminada do aparelho genital da fêmea, em pouco tempo, através do fluxo retrógrado. O meio vaginal não é adequado e imobiliza os espermatozoides em pouco tempo, pelo qual deverão entrar no útero onde o ambiente é mais propício. O transporte espermático na fêmea é o resultado da alta contratilidade, do movimento ciliar e o fluido do aparelho genital durante o estro, ao qual está sob controle endócrino e do sistema nervoso. Esse transporte é favorecido pelas características especiais do muco estral, cujas moléculas formam uma espécie de canais que facilitam a passagem dos espermatozoides. Pelo contrário, durante a fase lútea seu transporte é dificultado. Além do meio vaginal, a cérvix também atua como barreira natural para limitar a passagem dos espermatozoides, diminuindo assim a possibilidade de polispermia. Funciona, também, como um filtro que seleciona os espermatozoides aptos dos que não o são, uma vez que somente os primeiros possuem uma motilidade vigorosa que lhes permite passar pelo muco altamente hidratado. Na vaca a cérvix é considerada como um reservatório espermático. Quando atravessam a cérvix, os espermatozoides seguem sua deslocação tanto por movimento próprio como pelas contrações uterinas e tubárias. Nas espécies em que o local de depósito do sêmen do macho na fêmea é intrauterino, como equinos, a principal barreira que os espermatozoides enfrentam é a união ou junção útero-tubárica. A união entre o útero e o oviduto (istmo do oviduto) serve como reservatório funcional dos espermatozoides nas espécies domésticas. Poucos minutos depois da cópula, é possível encontrar alguns espermatozoides no oviduto, que é conhecido como fase de transporte rápido. No entanto, esses espermato-zoides não são os que participam do processo de fertilização e podem apresentar certas anormalidades. Existe um segundo tipo de transporte denominado fase sustentada, a qual consiste na migração prolongada dos espermatozoides em direção as partes mais craniais do aparelho genital feminino, que conduzem à colonização do reservatório funcional e na liberação gradual dos espermatozoides dos reservatórios espermáticos, incluindo este último. O reservatório do istmo fornece aos espermatozoides um ambiente propício, protegendo-os contra a fagocitose, prolongando assim a sua viabilidade. Aqui os esper-matozoides permanecem aderidos a superfície das células ciliadas do epitélio até a finalização de sua capacitação, depois da qual são liberados quando alteram seu padrão de motilidade flagelada, fenômeno conhecido como hipermotilidade, e migram em ondas em direção ao local da fertilização. Dos milhões de espermatozoides ejaculados, somente alguns milhares alcançarão o istmo do oviduto e um número sumamente pequeno será encontrado nas imediações do ovócito no momento da fertilização. -/- • _____CAPACITAÇÃO ESPERMÁTICA E REAÇÃO ACROSSÔMICA -/- A capacitação é um processo gradual e essencial para a fertilização. Os espermato-zoides devem passar por um dado tempo de “incubação” no aparelho genital da fêmea e sofrer uma série de mudanças antes de serem capazes de fecundar o ovócito. A capacita-ção dos espermatozoides começa quando eles entram em contato com as secreções do aparelho genital da fêmea e termina no istmo do oviduto. Durante esse percurso a superfície da cabeça do espermatozoide se modifica já que algumas moléculas como o colesterol são removidas da membrana plasmática, aumentando sua fluidez e alterando suas propriedades bioquímicas. Entre outras coisas, essa reorganização dos lipídios facilita a entrada de cálcio extracelular pelos canais iônicos e ocasiona a desestabilização da membrana, tornando-a mais fusogênica. Também são eliminados outros fatores (conhecidos genericamente como fatores descapacitantes) que expõem receptores membranais indispensáveis para a realização da união entre o espermatozoide e o ovócito durante a fertilização. Os espermatozoides capacitados apresentam um padrão de hipermotilidade e uma maior atividade metabólica, características que devem obter para que sejam capazes de penetrar as camadas do ovócito. A capacitação é necessária para que ocorra a reação acrossômica. A reação acrossomal ou acrossômica (RA) é um fenômeno de exocitose que é desencadeada pela ligação entre as proteínas e receptores localizados na membrana do espermatozoide e a zona pelúcida do ovócito (figura 3). Envolve a fusão da membrana plasmática do espermatozoide com a membrana externa de seu acrossomo; formando, assim, pequenas vesículas, cujo conteúdo de enzimas hidrolíticas, como a hialuronidase e a acrosina, é liberado em direção ao seu exterior, facilitando a penetração da zona pelúcida. A adesão do espermatozoide à zona pelúcida é específica da espécie e depende de glicoproteínas presentes na membrana dos ovócitos maduros; a cabeça do espermatozoide se une com essas glicoproteínas mediante receptores específicos e atravessam em direção oblíqua a zona pelúcida até chegar ao espaço perivitelino. Nos mamíferos, particularmente em roedores e nos humanos, algumas dessas glicoproteínas são conhecidas como ZP1, ZP2 e ZP3. Pensa-se que a união da membrana espermática a esta última é o que desencadeia a reação acrossomal. Posteriormente, as vilosidades do ovócito entram em contato com o espermatozoide e a membrana presente na secreção equatorial da cabeça do espermatozoide, que tem proteínas fusogênicas específicas, une-se a membrana plasmática do ovócito, fusionando-se e permitindo a entrada do núcleo espermático ao citoplasma (figura 4). A capacitação dos espermatozoides é fundamental para o êxito da fertilização, uma vez que apenas os aptos estarão perfeitos e íntegros para que a união e percepção das glicoproteínas presentes nos mesmos possam ocorrer de forma ideal para a penetração deste no ovócito, fertilizá-lo e formar um zigoto. Figura 3: estrutura do espermatozoide. Nota: a membrana é acrossomal e não acrossonal. Elaborado pelo autor. -/- Figura 4: eventos que ocorrem durante a fertilização. A – depois de passar através das células do cumulus, o espermatozoide entra em contato com a zona pelúcida, onde receptores da membrana plasmática reconhecem as proteínas da zona pelúcida; B – é desencadeada, então, a reação acrossomal; C – para que o espermatozoide penetre na zona pelúcida; D – ao atravessar a zona pelúcida e entrar no espaço perivitelino, a cabeça do espermatozoide entra em contato com a membrana vitelina; ambas membranas se fusionam graças ao reconhecimento de proteínas fusogênicas que estão no segmento equatorial. E – ocorre, então, que o núcleo do espermatozoide penetra no citoplasma do ovócito; uma das consequências da fusão da membrana com a cabeça do espermatozoide é a reação cortical, em que os grânulos corticais do ovócito liberam seu conteúdo em direção ao espaço perivitelino, o que resulta na alteração da estrutura da zona pelúcida e da membrana vitelina para bloquear a polispermia. Elaborado pelo autor. • _____CONSEQUÊNCIAS DA PENETRAÇÃO -/- Bloqueio da polispermia -/- A fusão das membranas dos gametas durante a penetração permite a entrada da fosfolipase C zeta (PLCζ) – fator solúvel que provém do espermatozoide – que desencadeia liberação e oscilações de Ca2+ no retículo endoplasmático. Isso, por sua vez, provoca a migração e fusão dos grânulos corticais, com a consequente liberação de enzimas, que mudam tanto a estrutura da zona pelúcida (por exemplo a inativação de ZP3), como a da membrana vitelina. Desse modo, impede-se que outros espermatozoides as penetrem, evitando assim a polispermia (figura 5). -/- Figura 5: os grânulos corticais que encontram-se na periferia do citoplasma, debaixo da superfície da membrana do ovócito, migram e fusionam-se sobre a mesma, liberando seu conteúdo no espaço perivitelino imediatamente depois da penetração do espermatozoide. A – como conse-quência, tanto a membrana vitelina como a zona pelúcida são modificadas, impedindo a entrada de mais espermatozoides, o que evita a polispermia. B – o ovócito retoma, então, sua segunda divisão meiótica, que ocasiona a expulsão do segundo corpúsculo polar, e na formação dos pronúcleos feminino e masculino. C – continuando, os pronúcleos migram, suas membranas se dissolvem e os cromossomos de ambos se condensam e se unem. Completa-se, assim, a singamia e forma-se, então, o zigoto. Elaborado pelo autor baseado nos livros de embriologia e fisiologia da reprodução conforme vida bibliografia. -/- Ativação do ovócito e formação de pronúcleos -/- Na maioria das fêmeas domésticas, com exceção da cadela, o ovócito encontra-se suspenso na metáfase II da segunda meiose no momento da ovulação. A entrada da PLCζ do espermatozoide no citoplasma do ovócito, e a consequente liberação de Ca2+, faz com que o ovócito se ative, terminando a segunda divisão meiótica e expulse o segundo corpo polar. Posteriormente, o material nuclear do ovócito se reorganiza para formar o pronú-cleo feminino. Entretanto, a membrana nuclear do espermatozoide se dissolve, a cromatina descondensa-se, as protaminas são substituídas por histonas, e se forma uma nova membrana nuclear, dando lugar ao pronúcleo masculino. -/- Singamia -/- Uma vez que os pronúcleos feminino e masculino são formados, migram para o centro do ovócito, aproximam-se, suas membranas se dispersam e os cromossomos paternos e maternos se associam, com o qual recupera a condição diploide e dá origem ao zigoto (figura 5). -/- • _____DESENVOLVIMENTO EMBRIONÁRIO -/- Poucas horas após a fertilização ocorre a primeira divisão do zigoto em duas, depois em 4, 8, 16 e 32 células, denominadas blastômeros. Essas divisões mitóticas são conhecidas como divisões de segmentação ou clivagem (figura 6), uma vez que são realizadas sem aumento do citoplasma, de modo que com cada divisão os blastômeros se tornam menores. A partir das 16 células o embrião se chama mórula, e é visto como uma massa celular compacta. A compactação deve-se a informação de proteínas de ligação entre os blastômeros. O embrião acumula líquido em seu interior, formando uma cavidade denominada blastocele. Esse processo é conhecido como blastulação; o embrião, assim, passa a ser chamado de blastocisto. Nessa etapa é possível diferenciar duas populações de células embrionárias: a massa celular interna, embrioblasto ou botão embrionário (que dará origem ao embrião), e a massa celular externa, células superficiais ou trofoblasto, do qual se originam a maioria das membranas fetais. Ao continuar a multiplicação das células e a acumulação de líquido, o blastocisto aumenta de tamanho, convertendo-se em blastocisto expandido. A zona pelúcida torna-se mais fina e, finalmente, o embrião eclode; isto é, o embrião é liberado da zona pelúcida. -/- • _____FERTILIZAÇÕES ATÍPICAS -/- Polispermia -/- É a penetração de dois ou mais espermatozoides no óvulo. Esta condição é letal nos mamíferos, já que o número cromossômico desse zigoto é maior que 2n, o envelheci-mento do ovócito da porca, como consequência do serviço tardio, favorece a apresentação da polispermia, por isso, é comum ver números de nascimentos de média de 10 a 12 leitões por parição nessa espécie. Nas aves, no entanto, a penetração de mais de um espermatozoide é normal, embora apenas um pronúcleo masculino se formará, fundindo-se com o feminino. -/- Figura 6: etapas do processo de segmentação/clivagem. Fonte: aula de reprodução da professora Domenica Palomaris, UFT. -/- Ginogênese -/- É o desenvolvimento de um embrião a partir de um óvulo normal fecundado por um espermatozoide, mas sem a fusão dos cromossomos masculinos com os da fêmea. A função do espermatozoide, nesse caso, é a de ativação do ovócito para que este inicie seu desenvolvimento, mas não há fusão com o núcleo do espermatozoide. Ocorre em plantas, em nematódeos e em algumas espécies de peixes, por exemplo a Poecilia formosa, espécie em que os ovócitos das fêmeas são ativados por machos de outra espécie relacio-nada. -/- Partenogênese -/- Consiste no desenvolvimento do embrião sem a participação do espermatozoide. Ocorre em alguns insetos, o zangão, por exemplo, é partenogenético. Também pode apresentar-se em perus, cujos embriões são machos e, geralmente, morrem antes da eclosão. -/- • _____GÊMEOS -/- Existem dois tipos de gêmeos: idênticos ou monozigóticos e os não idênticos ou dizigóticos. -/- Idênticos ou monozigóticos -/- Originam-se do mesmo zigoto, sendo assim, possuem o mesmo genótipo e um fenótipo similar e, portanto, são do mesmo sexo. Em laboratório é possível gerá-los ao seccionar uma mórula em duas ou mais partes, por meio de um micromanipulador. Uma vez que possuem o mesmo genótipo, os produtos resultantes são clones. -/- Não idênticos ou dizigóticos -/- Provêm da fertilização de dois óvulos distintos por espermatozoides diferentes. Possuem, portanto, genótipos e fenótipos diferentes, e podem ser de sexo diferente. -/- REFERÊNCIAS BIBLIOGRÁFICAS -/- ALBERTS, Bruce et al. Biologia molecular da célula. Artmed Editora, 2010. AUSTIN, Colin Russell; SHORT, Roger Valentine. Reproduction in Mammals, Book I: Germ Cells and Fertilization. 1982. BEARDEN, Henry Joe et al. Reproducción animal aplicada. México: Manual Moderno, 1982. BOSCH, P.; WRIGHT JR, R. W. The oviductal sperm reservoir in domestic mammals. Archivos de medicina veterinaria, v. 37, n. 2, p. 95-105, 2005. CAPALLEJAS, Roberto Brito; RODRÍGUEZ, Lourdes Tagle. Fisiología de la reproducción animal: con elementos de biotecnología. Editorial Félix Varela, 2010. CROXATTO, Horacio B. Physiology of gamete and embryo transport through the fallopian tube. Reproductive biomedicine online, v. 4, n. 2, p. 160-169, 2002. CUPPS, Perry T. (Ed.). Reproduction in domestic animals. Elsevier, 1991. DIEDRICH, Smidt et al. Endocrinología y Fisiología de la Reproducción de los Animales Zootécnicos. 1972. DUKES, Henry Hugh; SWENSON, Melvin J.; REECE, William O. Dukes fisiologia dos animais domésticos. Editora Guanabara Koogan, 1996. FERREIRA, A. de M. Reprodução da fêmea bovina: fisiologia aplicada e problemas mais comuns (causas e tratamentos). Juiz de Fora: Minas Gerais–Brasil, p. 422, 2010. HAFEZ, Elsayed Saad Eldin; HAFEZ, Bahaa. Reprodução animal. São Paulo: Manole, 2004. HUNTER, Ronald Henry Fraser. The Fallopian tubes in domestic mammals: how vital is their physiological activity?. Reproduction Nutrition Development, v. 45, n. 3, p. 281-290, 2005. HUNTER, R. H. F.; RODRIGUEZ‐MARTINEZ, H. Capacitation of mammalian spermatozoa in vivo, with a specific focus on events in the Fallopian tubes. Molecular Reproduction and Development: Incorporating Gamete Research, v. 67, n. 2, p. 243-250, 2004. GALINA, Carlos; VALENCIA, Javier. Reproducción de los animales domésticos. 2006. HOPPER, Richard M. (Ed.). Bovine reproduction. John Wiley & Sons, 2014. HYTTEL, Poul; SINOWATZ, Fred; VEJLSTED, Morten. Embriologia veterinária. Elsevier Brasil, 2012. KÖLLE, Sabine; REESE, Sven; KUMMER, Wolfgang. New aspects of gamete transport, fertilization, and embryonic development in the oviduct gained by means of live cell imaging. Theriogenology, v. 73, n. 6, p. 786-795, 2010. MCKINNON, Angus O. et al. (Ed.). Equine reproduction. John Wiley & Sons, 2011. OLIVERA, Martha et al. El espermatozoide, desde la eyaculación hasta la fertilización. Revista Colombiana de Ciencias Pecuarias, v. 19, n. 4, p. 426-436, 2006. PLANT, Tony M.; ZELEZNIK, Anthony J. (Ed.). Knobil and Neill's physiology of reproduction. New York: Academic Press, 2014. RODRIGUEZ-MARTINEZ, Heriberto. Role of the oviduct in sperm capacitation. Theriogenology, v. 68, p. S138-S146, 2007. SAAVEDRA LEOS, María Dolores. Estudio de la composición de los gránulos corticales y del oolema de ovocitos porcinos y bovinos madurados y fecundados in vitro. Proyecto de investigación:, 2010. SENGER, Phillip L. et al. Pathways to pregnancy and parturition. Current Conceptions, Inc, 2004. SUAREZ, Susan S. The oviductal sperm reservoir in mammals: mechanisms of formation. Biology of Reproduction, v. 58, n. 5, p. 1105-1107, 1998. VALENCIA MÉNDEZ, Javier de J. Fisiología de la reproducción porcina. 1986. -/- FIXAÇÃO DO ASSUNTO -/- 1. Defina e diferencie fertilização e segmentação. -/- 2. Disserte sobre o transporte do ovócito. Por que no istmo o transporte do ovócito se torna lento? -/- 3. Fale sobre a eficiência do transporte do gameta no trato genital da fêmea e sobre a retenção de ovócitos pela égua. -/- 4. Defina as células do cumulus e explique seu papel sobre o ovócito. -/- 5. Quais as estruturas que compõem o ovócito? Qual a função de cada uma? -/- 6. Todos os ovócitos das fêmeas domésticas são iguais? Justifique. -/- 7. Disserte sobre o papel dos hormônios e das secreções sobre o transporte do ovócito no trato genital da fêmea. -/- 8. Disserte sobre o transporte do espermatozoide. Por que há transporte rápido e lento dos espermatozoides? -/- 9. Fale sobre o local de deposição do sêmen nas espécies domésticas e como esse influen-cia na eficiência da reprodução. -/- 10. Por que a vida média do espermatozoide canino é maior que as outras espécies? -/- 11. Quais as mudanças que os espermatozoides precisam sofrer para conseguir êxito na fertilização e por quê? -/- 12. Defina fase de transporte rápido, fase sustentada e hipermotilidade. Qual a importân-cia de cada um? -/- 13. Como ocorre a reação acrossômica? -/- 14. O que é polispermia e como ocorre seu bloqueio? 15. Como ocorre a ativação do ovócito e como se formam os pronúcleos? -/- 16. O que é e qual a importância da singamia? -/- 17. Disserte sobre as divisões de segmentação e qual a importância destas para o êxito da reprodução. -/- 18. Defina e diferencia mórula e blastocisto. -/- 19. Defina e diferencie ginogênese e partenogênese. -/- 20. Qual o papel endócrino e quais hormônios e enzimas atuam sobre o transporte de gametas, sobre a fertilização e sobre a segmentação? (shrink)

This paper aims to suggest a new approach to Plato’s theory of being in Republic V and Sophist based on the notion of difference and the being of a copy. To understand Plato’s ontology in these two dialogues we are going to suggest a theory we call Pollachos Esti; a name we took from Aristotle’s pollachos legetai both to remind the similarities of the two structures and to reach a consistent view of Plato’s ontology. Based on this theory, when Plato (...) says that something both is and is not, he is applying difference on being which is interpreted here as saying, borrowing Aristotle’s terminology, 'is is (esti) in different senses'. I hope this paper can show how Pollachos Esti can bring forth not only a new approach to Plato’s ontology in Sophist and Republic but also a different approach to being in general. -/- Keywords Plato; being; difference; image; pollachos esti; pollachos legetai 1. Being, Not-Being and Difference The three dialogues where the notion of "difference" attaches to the notion of being, namely Parmenides II, Sophist and Timaeus,and specifically the first two we try to discuss here. In these dialogues, Plato is going to achieve a new and revolutionary understanding of being which is not anymore based on the notion of "same" as it was before in Greek ontology. It was his discovery, I think, that the notion of being in the Greek ontology is attached to the notion of the "same" and it is because of this attachment that there have always been many problems understanding being especially after Parmenides. That being has always been relying on the "same" can be found out from the way most of the Presocratics understood it. It was based on such a relationship between being and "same" that a later Ionian, Heraclitus of Ephesus, rejected Being by rejecting its sameness: unable to be the same, being cannot be being anymore but becoming. Heraclitus’ criticism of his predecessors’ understanding of being was due to his discovery that what they call being is not the same but different in every moment. The relation of being and sameness reaches to its highest point in Parmenides. What Plato does in using the "difference" is nothing but the establishment of a creative relation between being and "difference". In this new relation, although he is in agreement with Heraclitus that being is not the same but different, he does not do it by use of becoming. He disagrees, on the other hand, with Parmenides that such a relation between being and difference leads to not being. At Parmenides 142b5-6 it is said that if One is, it is not possible for it to be without partaking (μετέχειν) of being (οὐσίας), which leads to the distinction of being and one: -/- So there would be also the being of the one (ἡ οὐσία του̑ ἑνὸς) which is not the same (ταὐτὸν) as the one. Otherwise, it wouldn’t be its being, nor the one would partake of it. (142b7-c1) -/- The fact that what is (ἔστι) signifies (σημαῖνον) is other (ἀλλο) than what One signifies (c4-5), is being taken as a reason for their distinction. The conclusion is that when we say 'one is', we speak of two different things, one partaking of the other (c5-7). Having repeated these arguments of the otherness of being and one at 143a-b, Parmenides says that the cause of this otherness can be neither Being nor One but "difference": -/- So if being is something different (ἕτερον) and one something different (ἕτερον), it is not by being one that the one is different from being nor by its being being that being is other than one, but they are different from each other (ἕτερα ἀλλήλων) by difference (τῷ ἑτερῳ) and otherness (ἄλλῳ). (143b3-6) -/- The fifth hypothesis, 'one is not' (160b5ff.) is also linked with the notion of difference. When we say about two things, largeness and smallness, that they are not, it is clear that we are talking about not being of different (ἕτερον) things (160c2-4). When it is said that something is not, besides the fact that there must be knowledge of that thing, we can say that it entails also its difference: 'difference in kind pertains to it in addition to knowledge' (160d8). Parmenides explains the reason as such: -/- For someone doesn’t speak of the difference in kind of the others when he says that the one is different from the others, but of that thing’s own difference in kind. (160e1-2) -/- Although the theory of being as "difference" is not fulfilled yet, an exact look at what occurs in Sophist can make us sure that this was the launching step for "difference" to get its deserved role in Plato’s ontology. The notion of the "difference" is not yet well-functioned in Parmenides because we can see that being is still attached to the same: -/- For that which is the same is being (ὄν γὰρ ἐστι τὸ ταὐτόν) (162d2-3). -/- The notion of difference in Sophist is the key element based on which a new understanding of being is presented and the problem of not being is somehow resolved. The friends of Forms, the Stranger says, are those who distinguish between being and becoming (248a7-8) and believe that we deal with the latter with our body and through perception while with the former, the real being (ὄντως οὐσίαν) with our soul and through reasoning (a10-11). Being is then bound with the "same" by adding: -/- You say that being always stays the same and in the same state (ἣν ἀεὶ κατὰ ταὐτὰ ὡσαύτως ἔχειν) but becoming varies from one time to another (δὲ ἄλλοτε ἄλλως). (248a12-13) -/- That the theory of the relation of being and capacity (247d8f., 248c4-5) matches more with becoming than with being (248c7-9) must be rejected because being is also the subject of knowledge which is kind of doing something (248d-e). It does, however, confirm that 'both that which changes and also change have to be admitted as existing things (ὄντα) (249b2-3). I believe that this is what Socrates would incline to do at Theaetetus 180e-181a, that is, putting a fight between two parties of Parmenidean being and Heraclitean becoming and then escaping. The solution is that becoming is itself a kind of being and we ought to accept what changes as being. This is what must be done by a philosopher, namely, to refuse both the claim that 'everything is at rest' and that 'being changes in every way' and beg, like a child, for both and say being (τὸὄν) is both the unchanging and that which changes (249c10-d4). This kind of begging for both is obviously under the attack of contradiction (249e-250b). For both and each of rest and change similarly are (250a11-12) but it cannot be said either that both of them change or both of them rest, being must be considered as a third thing both of the rest and change associate with (250b7-10). The conclusion is that 'being is not both change and rest but different (ἕτερον) from them instead' (c3-4). The notion of difference helps Plato to take being departed from both rest and change because it was their sophisticated relation with being that made the opposition of being and becoming. Plato is now trying to separate being from rest and, thus, from "same" by "difference". Such a crucial change is great enough to need a 'fearless' decision (256d5-6). The possibility of being of not being is resulted (d11-12) comes as the answer to the question 'so it’s clear that change is not being and also is being (ἡ κίνησις ὄντως οὐκ ὄν ἐστι καὶ ὄν) since it partakes in being?' (d8-9). It is then by the notion of difference that becoming is considered as that which both is and is not. This coincidence of being and not being about change is apparently similar to Socrates’ paradoxical statement at Republic 477a about what both is and is not. -/- Introduction The Republic 476-477 has always been a matter of controversy mainly about two interwoven points. The first problem is the meaning of being here; that whether what he has in mind is a veridical, existential or propositional sense of being. The second problem is his distinction between the objects of knowledge and opinion which seems to lead, some believe, to the Two Worlds (TW) theory. The crucial point in Republic is that what is considered between knowledge (ἐπιστήμης) and ignorance (α͗γνοιας), namely opinion, must have a different object that leads Socrates to draw the distinction of knowledge and opinion between their objects. The problem of understanding being in the fifth book of the Republic is that when it is said that the Form of F is F but a particular participating in F, both is and is not F, it sounds too bizarre and unacceptable. It cannot be imaginable how a thing can be existent and non-existent at the same time. At the first sight, the only solution seems to be the degrees of existence which is called by Annas (1981, 197) a 'childish fallacy' and a 'silly argument'. Kirwan (1974, 118) thinks that Republic V does not attribute 'any doctrine about existence' to Plato and Kahn (1966, 250) claims that the most fundamental value of einai when used alone (without predicate) is not "to exist" but "to be so", "to be the case" or "to be true". The problems of understanding being in Republic and Sophist besides the difficulties of the existential reading led scholars to the other senses of being, mostly related to the well-known Aristotelian distinctions between different senses of being. In the predicative reading, Annas, for example, refers this difference to the qualified and unqualified application. Whereas the Form of F is unqualifiedly F, a particular instance of F can be F only qualifiedly (1981, 221). Vlastos’ well-known substitution of 'degrees of reality' for 'degrees of being/existence' must be categorized as a predicative reading. Kahn thinks that the basic sense of being for Plato is 'something like propositional structure, involving both predication and truth claims, together with existence for the subject of predication' (2013, 96). Believing that the complete-incomplete distinction terminology is misleading about Plato, he thinks that semantic functions are only second-order uses of the verb and it is the predicative or incomplete function which is fundamental. Suggesting a veridical reading, Fine (2003, 70 ff) thinks that while both existential and predicative readings separate the objects of knowledge and belief, it is only her reading which does not force such separation of the objects and thus does not imply TW. Stokes (1998, 266) thinks that though Fine is right saying that Plato does not endorse TW in book V, she is wrong in rejecting existential in favor of the veridical reading. The reception of existential reading can be seen more obviously in Calvert who thinks, in agreement with Runciman, that 'it would be safer to say that Plato’s gradational ontology is probably not entirely free from degrees of existence' (1970, 46). At Sophist 254d-e Plato singles out five most important kinds (or Forms!?) in which the same (ταὐτὸν) and difference (θάτερον) are regarded besides being, rest and change. They are, therefore, neither the same nor the difference but share in both (b3). Being (τὸ ὄν) cannot be the same also because if they 'do not signify distinct things' both change and rest will have the same label when we say they are (255b11-c1). We have then four distinct kinds, being, change, rest and same, none of them is the other. The case of difference is more complicated. When the stranger wants to assess the relation of being and difference, he can say simply neither that they are distinct nor that they are not. He has to make an important distinction inside being to get able to draw the relation of being and difference: -/- But I think you'll admit that some of the things that are (τῶν ὄντων) are said (λέγεσθαι) by themselves (αὐτὰ καθ’ αὑτά) but some [are said] always referring to (πρὸς) other things (ἄλλα) (255b12-13) -/- The difference is always said referring to other things (τὸδέγ’ ἕτερον ἀεὶ πρὸς ἕτερον) (255d1). It pervades all kinds because each of them should be different from the others and is so due to the difference and not its own nature (253e3f.) After asserting that change is different from being and therefore both is and is not (256d), the difference is described as what makes all the other kinds not be, by making each different from being. Given that all of them are by being, this association of being and difference is the cause of their being and not-being at the same time, the issue that its version at RepublicV made all those controversies we discussed above: -/- So in the case of change and all the kinds, not being necessarily is (Ἔστιν ἄρα ἐξ ἀναγκης τὸ μὴ ὄν). Τhat’s because as applied to all of them, the nature of the difference (ἡ θατέρον φύσις) makes each of them not be by making it different from being. And we’re going to be right if we say that all of them are not in the same way. And conversely [we’re also going to be right if we say] that they are because they partake in being. (Sophist 256d11-e3) -/- Plato’s new construction of five distinct kinds and the role he gives to thedifference among them is aimed to resolve the old problem of understanding being which has always been annoying from the time of Heraclitus and Parmenides. Both the ontological status of becoming and that of not being were, in Plato’s mind, based on the absolute domination of the notion of the Same over being. Now, not only becoming is understandable as being but also not being which is not the contrary of being anymore but only different (ἕτερον) (257b3-4). Though I agree partly with Frede that the account of not being which is needed for false statements is more complicated than just saying, as Cropsey (1995, 101) says, that Plato is substituting 'X is not Y' with 'X is different from Y', I totally disagree with him that when we say X is not beautiful, Plato could not have thought that it is not a matter of its being different from beautiful because 'it would be different from beauty even if it were beautiful by participation in beauty' (1992, 411). Conversely, as we will discuss, it is exactly the relation of the beautiful thing, X, and the beautiful itself, in which X shares that is to be solved by the notion of not being as difference. Though it is beautiful because of sharing in beauty, X is not beautiful because it is different from beautiful itself. What the difference is to do is to show how something can both be and not be the same thing. The difference is what makes one thing both be and not be a certain other thing. This equips the difference with the ability to explain a certain thing’s not-being when it is. Thanks to the notion of difference, it is now possible to explain not only not being but also the simultaneous being and not being of a thing: 'What we call "not-beautiful" is the thing that ἕτερόν ἐστιν from nothing other than του̑ καλου̑ φύσεως' (257d10-11). The result is that not beautiful happens to be (συμβέβηκεν εἶναι) one single thing among kinds of beings (τι τῶν ὄντων τινὸς ἑνὸς γένους) and at the same time set over against one of the beings (πρός τι τῶν ὄντων αὖ πάλιν ἀντιτεθὲν) (257e2-4) and thus be something that happens to be not beautiful (εἶναί τις συμβαίνει τὸ μὴ καλόν); a being set over against being (ὄντος δὴ πρὸς ὄν ἀντίθεσις) (e6-7). Neither the beautiful is more a being (μα̑λλον ... ἐστι τῶν ὄντων) nor not beautiful less (e9-10) and thus both the contraries similarly are (ὁμοίως εἶναι) (258a1). This conclusion, it is emphasized again (a7-9), owes to θατέρου φύσις now turned out as being. Therefore, each of the many things that are of the nature of the difference and set over each other in being (τῆς τοῦ ὄντος πρὸς ἄλληλα ἀντικειμένων ἀντίθεσις) is being as being itself is being (αὐτοῦ τοῦὄν τοςοὐσία ἐστιν) and not less. They are different from, and not the contrary of, each other (a11-b3). This is exactly τὸμὴὄν, the subject of the inquiry (b6-7). Hence, not being has its own nature (b10) and is one εἶδοςamong the many things that are (b9-c3). Such far departing from Parmenides’ ontological principle is done on the basis of the nature of the difference. It was the discovery of such a notion that made the stranger brave enough to say that not being is each part of the nature of the difference that is set over against being (258d7-e3, cf. 260b7-8). That the relation of being and difference is difference is the key element of the new ontology. The difference is, only because of its sharing in being, but it is not that which it shares in but different from it (259a6-8). Not being is exactly based on this difference: ἕτερον δὲ τοῦ ὄντος ὄν ἔστι σαφέστατα ἐξ ἀνάγκης εἶναι μὴ ὄν (a8-b1). 2. Difference and the Being of a Copy We discussed above that the sense of being of particulars in Republic V made so many debates that whether being is there used in an existential sense or not. Particulars in Republic are regarded as images in the allegories of Line and Cave. The being of an image/copy makes, thus, the same problem. Plato’s analogy of original -copy for the relation of Forms and their particulars in Republic has obviously a different attitude to being. The main question is that what is the ontological status of a copy in respect of its original? Are there two kinds of being, 'real being' versus 'being' as Ketchum says (1980, 140) or only one kind? What is the difference of being in an original and its copy? Is it a matter of degrees of being or reality as some commentators have suggested? Is it a matter of being relational? By reducing the ontological issue to an epistemological one, Vlastos’ suggestion of degrees of reality in an article with the same name does neither, I think, pay attention to the problem nor resolve it. He agrees that Plato never speaks of "degrees" or "grades" of reality (1998, 219). What allows him to entitle it as such are some of Plato’s words in Republic as well as Plato’s words in some other dialogues (1998, 219). When Plato states that the Forms only can completely, purely or perfectly be real he means, Vlastos says, they are cognitively reliable (1998, 229); an obvious reduction of the issue to an epistemological one. He thinks that when in Republic we are being said that a particular’s being F is less pure than its Form, it is because it is not exclusively F, but it is and is not F and this being adulterated by contrary characters is the reason of our confused and uncertain understanding of it (1998, 222). Ketchum rightly criticizes Vlastos’ doctrine in its disparting from ontology thinking that 'to understand Plato’s talk of being as talk of reality is to obscure the close relation that exists between "being" and the verb "to be"' (1980, 213). He thinks, therefore, that οὐσία must be understοοd as being rather than reality, τὸὄν as "that which is" and not "that which is real" and … (ibid). His conclusion is that degrees of reality cannot interpret Plato correctly and we must accept degrees of being. Allen believes that a 'purely epistemic' reading of the passage in Republic is patently at odds with Plato’s text (1961, 325). He thinks that not only degrees of reality but also degrees of reality must be maintained (1998, 67). What Cooper suggests gets close to this paper’s solution: -/- Plato does not I think wish to suggest that existence is a matter of degree in the way in which being pleasant or painful is a matter of degree. Rather there are different grades of ontological status. (1986, 241) -/- A more ontological solution for the problem of understanding the being of a copy and its relation with the being of its original is suggested by the theory of copy as a relational entity. Based on this interpretation, 'the very being of a reflection is relational, wholly dependent upon what is other than itself: the original…' (Allen, 1998, 62). As relational entities, particulars have no independent ontological status; they are purely relational entities which derive their whole character and existence from Forms (ibid, 67). Although these relational entities are and have a kind of existence, we must also say that 'they do not have existence in the way that Forms, things which are fully real, do' (ibid). Allen (1961, 331) extends his theory to Phaedo where it is said that particulars are deficient (74d5-7, 75a2-3, 75b4-8), 'wish' to be like (74d10) or desire to be of its nature (75a2); an extension that, like F.C. white (1977, 200), I cannot admit. He correctly states that Plato did not start out with a doctrine of particulars as images and semblances but come to such a view after Phaedo, or perhaps after Republic V (1977, 202). Though we may not agree with him about Republic V, if we have to consider its last pages also, we must agree with him that not only the ontology of Phaedo but also that of Republic II-V (except the last pages of the latter book) are somehow different from (but at the same time appealing to) the ontology of original-copy which should exclusively assign to Sophist, Timaeus and RepublicVI-VII besides the last pages of book V. The answer to the problem of Plato’s sense of being in RepublicV can be reached only if we read Republic V based on and as following Sophist. We can find out his meaning of that which both is and is not only by the ontological status he assigns to a copy in Sophist. The kind of being of a copy in Sophist reveals as Plato’s key for the lock of the problem of not being. Let’s see how the ontological status of a copy is the critical point of Plato’s ontology. In the earlier pages of Sophist, we are still in the same situation about not being. To think that that which is not is is called a rash assumption (237a3-4) and Parmenides’ principle of the impossibility of being of not being is still at work (a8-9). At 237c1-4, the problem of "not being" is noticed in a new way which shows some kinds of a more realistic position to the problem of not being. Nevertheless, not being is still unthinkable, unsayable, unutterable and unformulable in speech (238c10). Soon after mentioning that it is difficult even to refuse not being (238d), the solution to the problem appears: the being of a copy (εἴδωλον) (239d). A copy is, says Theaetetus, something that is made referring to a true thing (πρὸς τἀληθινὸν) but still is 'another such thing (ἕτεροντοιου̑τον)' (240a8). Nevertheless, this 'another such thing' cannot be another such real or true thing. In answer to the question of the Stranger that if this 'another such thing' is the true thing (240a9), Theaetetus answers: οὐδαμῶς ἀληθινόν γε, ἀλλ’ ἐοικὸςμὲν (240b2). A copy’s being 'another such thing' does not mean another true thing but only a resemblance of it. Not only is not a copy another true thing besides the original, but it is the opposite of the true thing (b5) because only its original is the thing genuinely and being a copy is being the thing only untruly. The word ἐοικὸς is opposed to ὄντως ὄν in the next line (240b7): 'So you are saying that that which is like (ἐοικὸς) is not really that which is (οὐκ ὄντως [οὐκ] ὄν)'. But still a copy 'is in a way (ἔστι γε μήν πως)' (b9). While it is not really what it is its resemblance, it has its own being and reality because it really is a likeness (εἰκων ὄντως) (b11). The Stranger asks: -/- So it is not really what is (οὐκ ὄν ἄρα [οὐκ] ὄντως ἐστὶν) but it really is what we call a likeness (ὄντως ἣν λέγομεν εἰκόνα)? (b12-13) -/- This is Plato’s innovative ontological solution to the problem of not being. Theaetetus’ answer confirms this: 'Maybe that which is not is woven together with that which is' (c1-2). Therefore, a copy neither is what really is nor is not-being but only is what in a way is. Thanks to the ontological status of a copy, the third status intermediate between being and not being is brought forth. The essence of an image, in Kohnke’s words, does not consist 'solely in the negation of what is genuine and has real being' because otherwise 'it would be an ὄντως οὐκ ὄν,essentially and really a not being' (1957, 37). The characteristics of a copy can be summed up as folows: i) A copy is a copy by referring to a true thing (πρὸς τἀληθινὸν). ii) A copy is different from that of which it is a copy (ἕτερον). iii) A copy is not itself a true thing (ἀληθινόν) as that of which it is a copy but only that which is like it (ἐοικὸς). iv) It is not really that which really is (ὄντως ὄν) but only really a likeness (εἰκων ὄντως). The conclusion is that: v) A copy in a way (πως) is that means it both is and in not, the product of interweaving being with not being. This leads to the refutation of father Parmenides’ principle, accepting that 'that which is not somehow is (τό τε μὴ ὄν ὡς ἔστι)' and 'that which is, somehow is not (τό ὄν ὡς οὐκ ἔστι) (241d5-7). Besides copies and likenesses (εἰκόνων), we have also imitations (μιμημάτων) and appearances (φαντασμάτων) as the subjects of this new kind of being and thus false belief (241e3). In Timaeus, the world of becoming which cannot correctly be called and thus we have to call it "what is such" (τὸ τοιου̑τον) (49e5) or "what is altogether such" (τὸ διἀ παντὸς τοιου̑τον) (e6-7), consists solely of imitations (μιμημάτα) (50c5) which are identifiable only by the things that they are their imitations. The word τοιου̑τον which had been used to determine the situation of a copy in respect of its original, now becomes the definition of the world of becoming in which everything is an image of another thing, a Being, that stays always the same and is different and separated from its image. Cherniss, in my view rightly, draws attention to the very important point about the ontological status of an image that can at the same time be considered a criticism of the relational theory. What we are being said in Timaeus, he thinks,cannot be explained by saying that an image is not self-related and making its being relational. What is crucial about an image is that it 'stands for something, refers to something, means something and this meaning the image has not independently as its own but only in reference to something else apart from it' (1998, 296). This function finds its best explanation in the theory we are to suggest in the following. 3. πολλαχῶς ἔστι The best way to understand the ontological status of an image in Plato is to see first how his most clever pupil, Aristotle, resolved the same problem that Plato brought his theory of image for its sake. Aristotle’s theory of pollachos legetai is a brilliant and, at the same time, deviated version of Plato’s theory that is able, however, to help us read Plato in a better way. We discuss Aristotle’s theory to reach to a full understanding of Plato’s theory because it is, firstly, constructed in Aristotle in a more clear way and, secondly, it can also be taken as an evidence that our reading of Plato is legitimate. The phrase τὸ ὄν πολλαχῶς λέγεται, a so much repeated phrase in Aristotle’s works, is his resolution for some of the ontological problems of his predecessors all treating being as if it has only one sense. Aristotle is right in his criticism of the philosophical tradition specially Heraclitus, Parmenides and Plato since all did presuppose only one sense for being and his theory is, thus, a creative and revolutionary solution for many problems that all the past philosophers were stuck in. But it is at the same time somehow a borrowed theory. As we will discuss, both the structure of the doctrine and the problems it tries to resolve are the same as Plato’s doctrine (and even is comparable in its phraseology) though it is in Aristotle, as can be expected, a more clear and better structured doctrine. 1) Associated with the theory of pros hen and the theory of substance, the theory of several senses of being provides a structure which, I insist, is the best guide to understand Plato’s theory of Being in Sophist, Timeaus and Republic. a) Although the theory of pollachos legetai is not necessarily based on the theory of pros hen, they become tightly interdependent about being: -/- Being is said in many ways/senses (τὸ δὲ ὄν λέγεται μὲν πολλαχῶς) but by reference to one (πρὸς ἕν) [way/sense] and one kind of nature (μίαν τινὰ φύσιν). (Metaphysics 1003a33-34) -/- The doctrine of pros hen which is Aristotle’s initiative third alternative besides the homonymous and synonymous application of words, is primarily a linguistic theory that tries to provide a new theory to explain the different implementations of the same word. The pros hen implementation of being is to provide an alternative for the theory of the synonymous (in Plato: homonymous) implementation of being which says being is said in one sense (kath hen) (1060b 32-33). That both the pros hen and the kath hen implementation of a word has one thing (hen) as what is common, makes them in opposition to the homonymous implementation which does not consider anything in common. Whereas both pros hen and kath hen assume a common nature, with which all the implementations of the word have some kind of relation, their difference is that while kath hen takes all the implementations of the word as the same with the common nature, pros hen makes them different. Substance is called πρῶτον ὄν because it is said to be primarily: -/- For as is (τὸ ἔστιν) is predicated of all things, not however in the same way (οὐχ ὁμοίως) but of one sort of thing primarily and of others in a secondary way. So too τὸτί ἐστιν belongs simply (ἁπλῶς) to substance but in a limited sense (πῶς) to the others [other categories] (1030a21-23). -/- The word ἁπλῶς standing against κατὰ συμβεβηκός tries to make substance different from the accidents. When we are being said that τὸ ὄν πολλαχῶς λέγεται, it means that only the substance that is simply (ἁπλῶς) the ἕν, the common nature, τὸὄν. When we use the word 'being' about a substance, the being is said differently from when we use 'being' about an accident. The distinction between the substance and the other categories is a distinction between what simply is said to be and what only with reference to (pros) the substance is said to be. The doctrine of pros hen, changing kath hen to pros hen in respect of to on, makes a distinction that wants to show that while there is a kind of implementing the word being that is simply being, there is another kind which is called being only by reference to that which is simply being. In the doctrine of pros hen it is not so that all the things that are said to be are only by reference to a common one thing, but that while one thing is called being because it is that thing itself, the other things are called so without being that thing itself but only by referring to it. At the very beginning of book Γ, it is said that: -/- Being is said in many senses but all refer to one arche. Some things are said to be because they are substances, others because they are affections of substances, others because they are a process towards substances or destructions or privations or qualities of substances … (1003b5-9, cf. 1028a18-20) -/- Substance is what really is said to be and all other things that are said to be are said only in favor of it. This difference of substance from all other senses of being is what is, I believe, primarily aimed in Aristotle’s interrelated theories of pollachos legetai,pros hen and the theory of substance. b) The difference of the implementation of being in the case of substance and the accidents goes so deep that while substance is considered as the real being, the accidents are almost not being. An accident is a mere name (Metaphysics 1026b13-14) and is obviously akin to not being (b21). Aristotle adds that Plato was 'in a sense not wrong' saying that sophists deal with not being (τὸ μὴ ὄν) because the arguments of sophists are, above all, about the accidental (1026b13-16). At the beginning of book , he says about quality and quantity (which look to be more of a being than other accidents) that they are not existent (οὐδ̕ ὄντα ὡς εἰπεῖν) in an unqualified sense (ἁπλῶς) (1069a21-22). The two above-mentioned points, Aristotle’s (a) interwoven theories of pollachos legetai, pros hen and the theory of substance and (b) taking accidents almost as not being, comparedwith substance, brings forth a structure that I shall call Pollachos Legetai (with capital first letters). What is of the highest importance in this structure for me is the difference of substance from accidents and the kind of relation which is settled between them. There is a substance that without any qualification is said to be and the accidents that are said to be only by reference (pros) to it. Adding Aristotle’s point about accidents that they are nearly not being to this relation and difference, we can obviously see how much this structure is close to Plato’s original-copy ontology. We spoke of the relation of being and difference in Plato’s model and the way Plato construes the being of a copy. A copy is a copy only by referring to (pros) a model; it is different from (ἕτερον) that of which it is a copy; it is not itself a true thing as its model and not really that which is (ὄντως ὄν) but only is in a way (πῶς). If we behold the difference of substance and accident in the context of the theory of pollachos legetai and pros hen, we can observe its fundamental similarity with Plato’s original-copy theory in its structure. Allen draws attention to the fact that the relation between Forms and particulars in Plato’s original-copy model is 'something intermediate between univocity and full equivocity' (1998, 70, n. 24) and the same as what Aristotle calls it pros hen (ibid). What made us compare the two structures was not, of course, the complete similarity of two structures (we have to agree with many possible differences of the two theories) but exactly the specific relation between an original and its copy on the one hand, and a substance and its accident on the other hand. As substance and accident do not share a common character and the substance -accident model hints that they stand in a certain relation, there is no common character between the original and copy in Plato’s model as well. Furthermore, their similarity is not confined to their structure only; they are also aimed to solve the same problem. The central point of the theory is that all the predecessors took being in one sense and this was their weakness point. Besides the mentioned above passages about the relation of pollachos legetai and presocratics’, as well as Plato’s, ontology, the relation of the theory with the problem of not being is clear in several passages. In Metaphysics, it is said: 'Being is then said in many senses… It is for this reason that we say even of not being that it is not being' (1003b5-10). Discussing the accidental sense of being, Aristotle points that it is in the accidental way that we say, for example, that not-white is because that of which it is an accident is (1017a18-19, cf. 1069a22-24). We mentioned that he thought Plato was right saying that sophistic deals with not being because sophistic deals with accidental, which is somehow not being (1026b14-16). Plato turned sophistic not-being to what both is and is not and Aristotle to what accidentally is said to be. What helps Aristotle to resolve the problem of not being is his distinction between ἁπλῶς and κατὰ σθμβεβηκός. Aristotle’s "qua" (ᾕ) which is directly linked with his distinction between καθ’ αὑτο λέγεται and κατὰ συμβεβηκός λέγεται, is used to resolve the old problem of coming to be out of not being (Physics 191b4-10). He strictly asserts that his predecessors could not solve the problem because they failed to observe the distinction of "qua itself" from "qua another thing" (b10-13). He then continues: -/- We ourselves are in agreement with them in holding that nothing can be said simply (ἁπλως) to come from not being (μὴὄντος). But nevertheless we maintain that a thing may come to be from not being in an accidental way (κατὰ συμβεβηκός). For from privation which ὅ ἐστι καθ’ αὑτο μὴ ὄν, nothing can become. (Phy. 191b13-16, cf. b19-25) . (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)

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

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)

I defend Frank Jackson's knowledge argument against physicalism in the philosophy of mind from a criticism that has been advanced by Laurence Nemirow and David Lewis. According to their criticism, what Mary lacked when she was in her black and white room was a set of abilities; she did not know how to recognize or imagine certain types of experience from a first-person perspective. Her subsequent discovery of what it is like to experience redness amounts to no more than (...) her acquisition of these abilities. The physicalist can admit this, since it does not commit one to the view that there are any facts of which Mary was ignorant . I argue against this view, on the grounds that the knowledge of what an experience is like cannot be equated with the possession of any set of abilities. (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)

Mucho se ha escrito sobre las dificultades que presentan algunas de las nociones claves de la filosofía de Frege. Sin embargo, no ha merecido suficiente atención lo “indecible” en la teoria fregeana. Es este precisamente el objetivo de mi estudio. Mostrar que hay “indecibles” en la teoria fregeana, es de especial interés no sólo por las paradojas que plantea el hecho de que la teoria se impida a si misma la formulación de algunas tesis generales que la constituyen, sino también (...) porque al exhibir la existencia de ciertos “indecibles” y los principios teóricos de los que se desprenden, podemos arrojar luz sobre la raíz de algunas dificultades entrelazadas, que han sido comentadas por diversos autores. (shrink)

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)

Invited contribution to The Aim of Belief, a special issue of Teorema, guest-edited by J. Zalabardo.

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)

In England and Wales we have had a National Curriculum since 1988. How can it have survived so long without aims to guide it? This IMPACT pamphlet argues that curriculum planning should begin not with a boxed set of academic subjects of a familiar sort, but with wider considerations of what schools should be for. We first work out a defensible set of wider aims backed by a well-argued rationale. From these we develop sub-aims constituting an aims-based curriculum. Further detail (...) is provided here on one of the most central educational aims, to do with equipping each child to live a flourishing personal and civic life. [A later, more detailed account of an aims-based curriculum is available in Reiss, M and White J <An Aims-based Curriculum: the significance of human flourishing for schools> Institute of Education Press 2013]. (shrink)

Call the view that it is possible to acquire aesthetic knowledge via testimony, optimism, and its denial, pessimism. In this paper, I offer a novel argument for pessimism. It works by turning attention away from the basis of the relevant belief, namely, testimony, and toward what that belief in turn provides a basis for, namely, other attitudes. In short, I argue that an aesthetic belief acquired via testimony cannot provide a rational basis for further attitudes, such as admiration, and that (...) the best explanation for this is that the relevant belief is not itself rational. If a belief is not rational, it is not knowledge. So, optimism is false. After addressing a number of objections to the argument, I consider briefly its bearing on the debate concerning thick evaluative concepts. While the aim is to argue that pessimism holds, not to explain why it holds, I provide an indication in closing of what that explanation might be. (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)

Everyone will agree that education ought to prepare young people to lead a meaningful life, but there are different ways in which this notion can be understood. A religious interpretation has to be distinguished from the secular one on which this paper focuses. Meaningfulness in this non-religious sense is a necessary condition of a life of well-being, having to do with the nesting of one’s reasons for action within increasingly pervasive structures of activity and attachment. Sometimes a life can seem (...) meaningless when it is not so in fact. In more extreme cases it may in fact be to some extent meaningless. Equipping young people for a meaningful life is a worthwhile, but not all-important educational aim. Educators should help them not only to see their lives as meaningful but also to lead lives that <are> meaningful. This involves continuous engagement in the nesting of reasons mentioned above. Where autonomy is also an aim, temperamental attunement to possible options – rather than exposure to all possible options – and time to explore them are important considerations. Questions arise here both about social justice and about whether current school curriculum and timetabling arrangements help or hinder pupils in living a meaningful life. (shrink)

The idea that education should equip people to lead flourishing lives and help others to do so is now becoming salient in policy-making circles. Philosophy of education can help here by clarifying what flourishing consists in. This essay examines one aspect of this. It rejects the view that well-being goods are derivable from human nature, as in the theories of Howard Gardner and Edmond Holmes. It locates them, rather, as cultural products, but not culturally-relative ones, drawing attention to the proliferating (...) forms they have taken over the past three or four centuries. It looks to aesthetics and art criticism as a guide to a philosophical treatment of well-being goods more generally. It also takes off from aesthetics and art criticism in seeking to identify reliable authorities on the flourishing life. On this, it rejects elitist conceptions in favour of a more democratic model, emphasising its importance in education for citizenship. (shrink)

Defiendo la opinión de que la infancia es intrínsecamente valiosa en lugar de tener valor solo en la medida en que conduce a una buena edad adulta. Ni la visión de los “niños como adultos inacabados” ni la más extravagante de “los adultos como niños defectuosos” son convincentes por sí mismas porque ambas son formas incompletas de contar la historia de la infancia y la edad adulta. Un breve artículo no puede resolver la cuestión del valor relativo de la niñez (...) y la adultez, pero sugiero que es plausible que algunos tipos de valor que podemos disfrutar plenamente como niños sean, en el caso de la mayoría de las personas, diferentes de aquellos que podemos disfrutar como adultos. A medida que nos hacemos adultos mejoramos nuestros conocimientos y habilidades: acumulamos experiencia y controlamos mejor nuestras emociones. Por lo tanto, nos volvemos capaces de una plena agencia moral. Además, nos volvemos más decididos y adquirimos las habilidades ejecutivas necesarias para perseguir nuestros objetivos de manera efec-tiva y, por lo tanto, tenemos nuevos tipos de logros disponibles. Al mismo tiempo, en la transición a la edad adulta perdemos, en promedio, no solo habilidades físicas deseables como la agilidad y la flexibilidad, sino también gran parte de la plasticidad mental, la imaginación, la curiosidad y la percepción vívida, a veces sinestésica, del mundo (es decir, la capacidad de experimentar el mundo a través de más de un sentido a la vez). En el proceso, la capacidad de imaginar mundos radicalmente diferentes y las habilidades filosóficas y artísticas que teníamos de niños se pierden en general o al menos se reducen en gran medida. Por lo tanto, el cambio de la niñez a la edad adulta puede no ser en todos los sentidos un progreso, como diría la visión de los “niños como adultos inacabados”, o una regresión, como sugiere la visión de los “adultos como niños defectuosos”. Más bien, es una transformación de un tipo de ser humano intrínsecamente valioso a un tipo diferente de ser humano intrínsecamente valioso. Mi relato se basa en el trabajo en filosofía con niños y en nuevas investigaciones en psicología del desarrollo. Si bien hablo de los niños en general, no hace falta decir que las afirmaciones sobre las habilidades de los niños se aplican de manera diferente a los diferentes grupos de edad; sin embargo, asumo que la distinción entre “infancia” y “edad adulta” es, como tal, pertinente. (shrink)

The Exclusion Argument for physicalism maintains that since (1) every physical effect has a sufficient physical cause, and (2) cases of causal overdetermination are rare, it follows that if (3) mental events cause physical events as frequently as they seem to, then (4) mental events must be physical in nature. In defence of (1), it is sometimes said that (1) is supported if not entailed by conservation laws. Against this, I argue that conservation laws do not lend sufficient support to (...) (1) to render its denial ‘unscientific’, and that those who accept (3) and deny (4) may consequently respond to the Exclusion Argument by denying (1) without thereby setting themselves at odds with current science. I also argue that conservation laws are compatible with (3) and the negation of (4), and that one can therefore accept conservation laws and (3) while denying both (1) and (4). (shrink)

In a paper in this journal, I defend the view that truth is the fundamental norm for assertion and, in doing so, reject the view that knowledge is the fundamental norm for assertion. In a recent response, Littlejohn raises a number of objections against my arguments. In this reply, I argue that Littlejohn’s objections are unsuccessful.

Medical ethicists conventionally assume that the requirement to employ informed consent procedures is grounded in autonomy. It seems intuitively plausible that providing information to an agent promotes his autonomy by better allowing him to steer his life. However, James Taylor questions this view, arguing that any notion of autonomy that grounds a requirement to inform agents turns out to be unrealistic and self-defeating. Taylor thus contends that we are mistaken about the real theoretical grounds for informed consent procedures. Through analysing (...) Taylor's arguments and showing that they do not stand up to scrutiny, it is possible to defend the view that autonomy is a plausible theoretical basis for informed consent, and to enhance our understanding of the relationship between autonomy and informed consent. (shrink)

3 Abstract This paper is about modeling morality, with a proposal as to the best 4 way to do it. There is the small problem, however, in continuing disagreements 5 over what morality actually is, and so what is worth modeling. This paper resolves 6 this problem around an understanding of the purpose of a moral model, and from 7 this purpose approaches the best way to model morality.

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.

This is a transcript of a conversation between P F Strawson and Gareth Evans in 1973, filmed for The Open University. Under the title 'Truth', Strawson and Evans discuss the question as to whether the distinction between genuinely fact-stating uses of language and other uses can be grounded on a theory of truth, especially a 'thin' notion of truth in the tradition of F P Ramsey.

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)

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)

The New Labour we got was different from the New Labour that might have been, had the reform agenda associated with stakeholding and pluralism in the early-1990s been fully realised. We investigate the road not taken and what it means for ‘one nation’ Labour.

In accordance with a recent statement released by the World Health Organization, the Canadian province of Ontario is moving to ban payment for plasma donation. This is partially based on contentions that remuneration for blood and blood products undermines autonomy and personal dignity. This paper is dedicated to evaluating this claim. I suggest that traditional autonomy-based arguments against commodification of human body parts and substances are less compelling in the context of plasma donation in Canada, but that there is another (...) autonomy-based objection to paid plasma donation that has not received sufficient attention. Namely, the stigma that surrounds exchanging plasma for payment makes it difficult to make an autonomous decision to engage in this activity. I suggest that this problem can be overcome in one of two ways; by banning payment for plasma, or by reducing the stigma surrounding this practice. I provide an indication of how we might work to achieve the latter, contending that this possibility should be taken seriously, due to the difficulties in achieving a sufficient supply of plasma without remuneration. (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)

A brief account of educational aims, focussing on preparation for a life of autonomous well-being.

Lorenzo Magnani’s Understanding Violence: The Intertwining of Morality, Religion and Violence is a big 23 book. Not big in the sense of page count or prepublication advertisement, but big in the sense of pregnant 24 with potential application. Professor Magnani is explicit in his intentions, “to show how violence is de facto 25 intertwined with morality, and how much violence is hidden, and invisibly or unintentionally performed" 26 (page 273) while confessing a personal motivation, “warning myself (and every reader) that (...) violence is 27 traceable back to my (our) own door.” (page 66) This is not an easy task, given the slippery expanse of his 28 subject, to drag violence out of the shadows, bringing it home to each personal purveyor. But Magnani 29 succeeds, and fruitfully. Understanding Violence deftly exposes violence in its myriad forms from individual 30 aggression to colliding global-historical narratives. It does this by detailing the processes whereby people act 31 from moralities of their own creation, adopting various moral frameworks including those specific to 32 religions, social and political groups, as well as personal constructs, and in terms of which "they engage and 33 disengage both intentionally and unintentionally, in a strict interplay between morality and violence." (page 34 184) Resolving these complex dynamics through simple models and illustrations, Understanding Violence 35 elevates the reader from the forest-for-the-trees perpetual-crisis-blindness symptomatic of the present era, to 36 a position from which personal moral commitments as practical, as necessary, and as the source of hidden 37 violence are clearly visible. Moreover, due to the practicality of Magnani’s demonstrations, it continues in 38 this work long after the text itself is laid back on the shelf. (shrink)

Psychopathy is increasingly in the public eye. However, it is yet to be fully and effectively understood. Within the context of the DSM-IV, for example, it is best regarded as a complex family of disorders. The upside is that this family can be tightly related along common dimensions. Characteristic marks of psychopaths include a lack of guilt and remorse for paradigm case immoral actions, leading to the common conception of psychopathy rooted in affective dysfunctions. An adequate portrait of psychopathy is (...) much more complicated, however. Though some neural regions and corresponding functions are commonly indicated, they range across those responsible for action planning and learning, as well as emotional processes. Accordingly, a complete fine-grained map of all neural mechanisms responsible for psychopathy has not been realized, and even if it were, such a map would have limited utility outside of the context of surgical or chemical intervention. The utility of a neural-level understanding of psychopathy is further limited by the fact that it is only applicable in the clinical identification of individual subjects, and the neuro-chemical/biological correction of those subjects after they are positively identified as psychopaths. On the other hand, an information processing model of moral cognition provides for wider-ranging applications. The theoretical and practical implications for such a feasible working model of psychopathic personalities are assessed. Finally, this chapter raises the possibility of directed modification of social-environmental factors discouraging the development of psychopathic personalities in the first place, modifications which are also open to simulation and testing in terms of the same model of moral cognition. (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)

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)

Howard Gardner's theory of Multiple Intelligences has had a huge influence on school education. But its credentials lack justification, as the first section of this paper shows via a detailed philosophical analysis of how the intelligences are identified. If we want to make sense of the theory, we need to turn from a philosophical to a historical perspective. This is provided in the second section, which explores how the theory came to take shape in the course of Gardner's intellectual development. (...) The third section looks at changes in the theory since its inception in 1983 and at problems with its applications to education. The paper concludes with a response to Gardner's critical comments on the argument to this point. (shrink)

Euthanasia and assisted suicide have proved to be very contentious topics in medical ethics. Some ethicists are particularly concerned that allowing physicians to carry out these procedures will undermine their professional obligations and threaten the very goals of medicine. However, I maintain that the fundamental goals of medicine not only do not preclude the practice of euthanasia and assisted suicide by physicians, but can in fact be seen to support these practices in some instances. I look at two influential views (...) of the goals of medicine, one based on the broad guiding principles of autonomy, beneficence and nonmaleficence, and the other focusing on several more concrete aims, concluding that both approaches can be seen to support euthanasia and assisted suicide. I then turn to the popular concern that allowing physicians to carry out euthanasia and assisted suicide will lead to widespread abuse. I argue that the possibility for abuse can be minimised if we make the patient's autonomous consent an essential requirement of the practice. (shrink)

In a recent article, Ethan Bradley and Mark Navin (2021) argue that vaccine refusal is not akin to free riding. Here, I defend one connection between vaccine refusal and free riding and suggest that, when viewed in conjunction with their other arguments, this might constitute a reason to mandate Covid-19 vaccination.

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)