Reading: Aristotle

We're back with more ancient philosophy, this time delving into the theories of Aristotle, Plato's most renowned student. Plato founded an Academy, a school in Athens, which endured for hundreds and hundreds of years—close to eight or 900 years, to be exact.

The most famous student ever to study there was Aristotle. He studied under Plato for 20 years and later established his own school, the Lyceum. He then began to craft his own theory of reality, and on numerous other subjects. In fact, Aristotle was one of the great polymaths of all time.

During his lifetime, Aristotle penned works that were unparalleled in their depth and mastery:

• A theory of reality
• Treatises on ethics, politics, and physics
• Several works on biology
• An advanced treatise on logic, introducing a method to determine the validity of arguments.

Merely producing the finest work in any one of these fields would have secured one's place in history, but Aristotle did it in every one of them.

He also commented extensively on many other subjects he didn't pen entire works on, which became profoundly influential. By the time the High Middle Ages rolled around, when the ancient Greeks' writings were rediscovered and Europeans began to study them, Aristotle was so revered that he was simply called "the philosopher" as though no others existed. When Plato's works were later discovered, most thinkers viewed him more as a poet, feeling that his dialogues and arguments were inferior to Aristotle's. Remember, only Plato's more popular works survived, while only Aristotle's class notes did, making the latter appear far more technical and sophisticated.

Yet, that's how they were perceived by thinkers of the Middle Ages and beyond. Aristotle's method, especially in logic, was so groundbreaking that for over a millennium, none could improve upon it. Whenever someone attempted to enhance it, they felt they were deviating from Aristotle's foundational principles and hence discarded their efforts. Notable figures like Raymond Lull in the 11th century and others tried, but it wasn't until the 19th century that significant disagreements with Aristotle arose, leading to the evolution of modern logic. Ironically, Immanuel Kant, writing just before the 1800s, stated that logic had remained unchanged for over a millennium.

Indeed, it had been 2,100 years with minimal change. And he asserted this right before significant advancements in the field in the 19th century, which, of course, he couldn't have predicted.

In the following discussions, I plan to delve into Aristotle's theory, starting with the foundational elements of his theory of reality, how it diverged from Plato's, and the arguments he put forth. We'll then shift to Aristotle's logic, focusing on the syllogistic method—how conclusions logically derive from given premises or don't, in which case they are deemed invalid. Finally, we'll explore his political theory, contrasting it with Plato's and the theory of sphere sovereignty as proposed by Abraham Kuyper and his proponents. This latter theory provides a Christian perspective on the role of the state in society and the relationship between various societal institutions.

Now, let's turn our attention to Aristotle and the initial chapters of his seminal work. I'd like to remind you that this work is titled "Metaphysics." The odd nomenclature simply implies "after the physics." When Aristotle's students or perhaps nephews compiled his class notes for publication, they first encountered his lectures on physics and aptly named them "Physics." When they stumbled upon his theory of reality, unsure of an appropriate title, they simply named it the book that comes "after the Physics."

That's where the word comes from. It's not mysterious at all, really.

Aristotle famously begins this way: "All men by nature desire to know."

An indication of this is the delight we take in our senses. Even apart from their usefulness, we love them just for themselves.

And above all, we favor the sense of sight, not only with a view to action, but even when we're not going to do anything, we prefer seeing to anything else.

Later, he adds, "Animals other than humans live by appearances and memories, and have but little connected experience. But the human race lives by art and reasoning."

By "art" here, he doesn't just refer to what we consider as the products of fine arts. He means anything that requires a plan. So, a set of laws made for a city or the establishment of its institutions would be "arts."

To create these requires reasoning. He then notes, "To truly know a thing is to know its causes."

The primary principles and causes are the most notable. By "most notable," he means the most certain, not necessarily the easiest to come by.

From this, we can discern that Aristotle views human beings as essentially rational animals. He defines a human being as an animal that differentiates itself from others through reason, abstract reason, which is evident in our ability to use language and communicate.

The transfer of information through concepts and the formation of logical concepts expressed in language are all typical of humans. Aristotle also observed, "Owing to their wonder, humans both began and continue to philosophize." Initially, they wondered about obvious challenges, then advanced to ponder the origin of the universe.

It was only after nearly all life's necessities and comforts had been secured that the quest for such knowledge began.

He further explains that the term "liberal arts" originates from "liberal," meaning "free." The Liberal Arts pertain to pursuits that someone who is "liberated" or "free" can undertake.

Free from what?

Free from the necessity of earning a living. Once one has secured life's essentials and comforts, one can focus on disciplines like philosophy, astronomy, poetry, and literature. Such pursuits define the "good life." Aristotle notes that the liberal arts first arose in Egypt due to an aristocratic class wealthy enough that they didn't need to labor. As a result, they engaged in subjects like mathematics and astronomy. So, that's where the liberal arts originated. He implies that after securing life's necessities, one can then venture into arts that a man freed from daily labor can embrace.

It's essential, he stresses, to acquire knowledge of fundamental causes. Because, as he says, we only truly know something when we grasp its primary cause. This quest for understanding leads to philosophy. Whether it's understanding how crops grow, fashioning wool into clothing, or grasping how a monetary system operates, true comprehension is rooted in recognizing its cause.

Aristotle further introduces a key distinction. He remarks that his predecessors acknowledged only two causes: the material something was composed of and the action (efficient cause) exerted on the material to generate a result. However, Aristotle introduces two more causes: the formal cause, which defines the form of the thing, and the final cause, signifying the purpose of the action.

For example, if one wishes to carve a piece of wood into a bird for decoration, one chooses a suitable type of wood (material cause), applies tools to shape it (efficient cause), aims to achieve a bird-like shape (formal cause), all for the intended purpose of decorating a desk (final cause).

Contrary to Plato, who posited a perfect form existing in another realm, Aristotle believes understanding the form provides the proper definition of an entity. For instance, understanding the form of a bird, which includes its physical attributes, allows one to accurately represent it.

In summary, for a thorough understanding, one must recognize the material cause (what it's made of), the efficient cause (the action that shapes it), the formal cause (what it is intended to represent), and the final cause (the purpose behind the action).

And then there's my purpose, which is why I carve one only this big, not this big, because it's got to go on my desk. In the end, the vision I have guides how I go about exerting efficient causality on the wood to produce a wooden image of a bird.

Aristotle frequently praises himself when he goes beyond his predecessors, and he does so here too. He says that all his present predecessors had only two causes. Plato added the formal cause.

So, you could say that all of them, except Plato, had only two causes. Plato added the forms. But you also need to add the final causality, which is the purpose – the reason for which the activity is engaged – and the efficient causality exerted on the material.

Older philosophers are also mostly materialists. He reviews all the figures we covered earlier.

And he says they were materialists, primarily concerned with the material cause of a thing. They wanted to define what kind of stuff it was made from. They all believed that things came into being and passed away due to the imperfections of matter and because of the changes in its elements. But we have to understand why this happens. Why does matter change in such a way?

Why is it that if I carve this bird, for instance, place it on the corner of my desk, and just leave it there, without touching or handling it, over time, it tends to disintegrate, perhaps even falling apart?

Aristotle, like Plato, assumes matter is inert. Matter doesn't change or move on its own. It needs an external force for change. His argument is that whatever doesn't change by itself must be acted upon by something else to change. In its natural state, matter is at rest. This perspective reflects the observation on Earth that changes occur due to interactions. For example, the wooden bird might begin to disintegrate because of the effects of sunlight, moisture, evaporation, condensation, and the rarefaction of air. Absent these factors, the item would remain unchanged.

And matter doesn't explain its own change. We need to return to the four causes: material, efficient, formal, and final. The material cause can't alone explain why something is aesthetically pleasing or functional. Just stating its composition isn't sufficient to convey why something is a classic piece of art or an effective tool.

Most ancient philosophers acknowledged the material and efficient causes, except Parmenides. Parmenides argued against the existence of efficient causes and believed that change was an illusion. The perceived world, in his view, was static, with matter filling space, never altering or taking on different forms.

Zeno, with his paradoxes, argued against the reality of motion, suggesting our senses are unreliable. Parmenides' philosophy has similarities with Hinduism, which believes in an unchanging, divine reality, Brahman-Atman, that manifests as the perceptible world. This differs from the Judeo-Christian view where God creates a separate, tangible world.

Most ancient philosophers, prior to Aristotle, believed in material and efficient causes. The Pythagoreans posited that our experiences are constructed from numbers and their relations. This idea was unique as they proposed material things were composed of immaterial numbers.

Plato suggested forms give shape to matter through participation in the forms. However, Aristotle criticizes Plato for not clearly defining how participation or imitation works. Plato's duality of form and matter was expanded by Aristotle, who felt there was a lack of clarity in the connections between the two.

In summary, while many philosophers touched on the essence or nature of things, Aristotle believed that they hadn't clearly articulated it. He aimed to address this gap in understanding.

"It's about understanding the essence of things. Whether it's the essence of being a bird, a mountain, or a planet, every entity has its own unique essence. This essence is the crux of the theory I'm delving into. In your readings, please cover chapters one and two of the 'Metaphysics.'

When searching for the most fundamental form of matter, some ancient thinkers believed it was fire. They considered fire the primordial matter since it can assume various forms and is finely grained. Nowadays, we'd attribute this to quantum physics, which deals with the minutest particles.

Isn't it fascinating that both ancient and modern perspectives converge on the notion that the most basic form of matter is the smallest? Whatever constitutes the basic building blocks, whether it's fire for ancient thinkers or quantum fluctuations and perhaps dark matter for us, forms the basis of larger constructs.

However, Aristotle argued that identifying the most basic form of matter doesn't necessarily explain the nature of change. Contrastingly, our current understanding posits that matter is in perpetual motion, from the electrons within atoms to chemical reactions and beyond.

This shift in perspective began with Galileo and his contemplation on inertia. He pondered whether rest or motion was an object's natural state and emphasized the transition between the two.

Nowadays, we understand that matter is inherently dynamic. If all motion at the atomic and molecular levels ceased, the universe would plunge into absolute coldness, marking the end of all change.

Aristotle aimed not just to pinpoint the most basic matter but also to elucidate its transformations. His argument, later adopted and augmented by Thomas Aquinas, proposes that while some entities change, they aren't self-changing. Aquinas concluded that this unchanging 'changer' or cause is God.

Several facets of this argument deserve attention. Firstly, the observation that entities change but aren't self-changing is foundational. For Plato and Aristotle, a distinctive trait of living entities is self-change, as seen in growth or the quest for sustenance.

The second premise states that anything which doesn't change itself must be influenced by an external force. This relates to the 'Principle of Sufficient Reason' which posits that everything must have a cause or explanation. But why should we accept this principle?

We could argue its self-evidence, but not everyone finds it intrinsically true. Alternatively, if one believes in God as the ultimate cause, then the principle becomes redundant in proving God's existence.

Aristotle's intent wasn't necessarily to prove God's existence but to emphasize the need for a constant, changeless force influencing change. He believed that the 'form' or 'essence' of things is their very definition. Unlike Plato, who believed in an ideal realm with perfect forms that our world imitates, Aristotle saw the essence or definition of an entity as its governing principle.

To clarify, while Plato envisaged a perfect tree in another realm which all earthly trees mimic, Aristotle proposed that if matter takes the shape of a tree, it does so based on the inherent essence of what it means to be a tree. Knowledge of this essence is captured in its definition.

Aristotle, in Book Three of the 'Metaphysics', critiques Plato's views, noting that on Plato's account, there would need to be as many forms as there are entities to be explained. This means that for every individual tree on Earth, there would have to be a unique form in the ideal realm, which contradicts Plato's singular ideal form theory."

He says, "If you start doing that, then you're going to have to have forms for forms. And you're going to end up like Plato did. Remember, there's one form that all the other forms participate in – that's the one of the good, the beautiful, and the true. This is the one that all the rest participate in. But then, you would have as many forms as things. Why would that be? Well, if you've got a form that relates to a thing – say a tree – and here's a tree, and tree number one copies this form, then there's also going to have to be a form that explains this relation."

"This is form one; this is form one prime. It explains the relation of form one to the trees. But if there's a relationship here, then there's going to have to be another form to explain it, form two prime, and so on. You're never going to finish; you're going to end up with an infinite proliferation of forms."

"This rule for theory-making, which already exists in Plato's writings, is reiterated by Aristotle and later in the Middle Ages by a thinker named William of Ockham. It suggests that a theory should not add unnecessary entities. Today, this rule is known as Ockham's Razor. Some mistakenly refer to it as 'Ockham's Eraser.'"

"If you have two theories, and one uses five hypotheses to explain something while another uses ten, then according to Ockham's Razor, we should prefer the theory with five hypotheses. Why add five more when five suffice? Importantly, the principle doesn't claim that nature always takes the simplest route. It's more about our preference for simpler explanations when they suffice."

"Some people have even mistakenly used this to argue for Copernicus's theory of the solar system. But the rule doesn't say that nature always opts for simplicity. Instead, it states that we, as humans, should favor the simpler explanation when both adequately explain the phenomenon."

"Aristotle argues that his theory is superior because Plato's concept of forms violates the principle of simplicity. Additionally, he suggests that Plato's framework would require forms for non-existent entities. For example, since there are no dinosaurs on my desk, there'd have to be a form for 'a desk with no dinosaur'. And similarly for 'a desk with no whale' or 'a desk without scavenger beetles'. The list would be endless. Aristotle aims to showcase the absurdity of such results."

"Moreover, he states that things come into being for which there are no forms, citing man-made objects as an example. For Aristotle, these artifacts don't have eternal forms as they're constructed from various materials and aren't eternal."

"To illustrate, he uses the shield as an example. A shield is made by shaping metal and attaching a handle. Does this process create a new form? Aristotle argues it merely satisfies the form for bronze."

"This reasoning may not be entirely convincing. When humans create unique artifacts, how do they fit into the theory of forms? Aristotle struggles with this, especially in maintaining that forms are eternal and divine."

"We see Aristotle's attempt to critique Plato's views en route to developing his own theory of reality. A summary would be that simpler theories with fewer assumptions are preferable. By Plato's logic, there could potentially be more forms than things to be explained, especially when considering non-existent scenarios. Also, some things, like artifacts, might not have corresponding forms at all."

"Aristotle's emphasis on a singular world, rather than Plato's two realms, posits that forms (now considered essences) reside within individual entities. For instance, the essence of being a tree is present in all trees, and the essence of being a human resides in every human."

I've tried to ensure clarity, precision, and correctness in the text. If there's anything else you'd like assistance with, please let me know!

So, the form which defines what it is to be a tree exists in every tree; the form that defines humans exists in every human. He also wants to argue that these forms signify the nature or—let me coin a term—"identity nature" of each entity. They represent the enduring identity of an object through all its transformations. For instance, if I plant a tree that starts off a foot high, then grows to two feet and eventually 30 feet, if it produces leaves in the spring but loses them in winter, if it has a branch that gets diseased and falls off—it's still the same tree. This consistent identity is what I'm referring to as "identity nature." Aristotle termed this as "substance."

The word "substance" derives from "sub" meaning under, and "stance" meaning stand. This is the underlying essence that persists through observable changes, making us recognize the same person, tree, mountain, cloud, or planet. Aristotle argues that forms exist only for substances. In contrast, Plato believed there were forms for every quality. Plato's philosophy suggested a form for every color, every shade of color, every texture, and so on. But Aristotle contends that such proliferation of forms is excessive and impractical. He believes forms exist only for substances: tangible entities that possess properties, have an "identity nature" or substance, and remain constant amidst change. To distinguish between substances and non-substances, he asserts that substances can only be subjects in statements, never modifiers. For instance, we can say "the tree has leaves," where "tree" is the subject, but stating that "something has trees" is nonsensical.

However, I have concerns about Aristotle's refinements. While he asserts that the defining form of each entity is present within the entity itself and not in another realm, this doesn't fully address the problem. This perspective only partly solves the issue of recognizing an individual tree amidst its transformations. It’s still an abstraction that doesn't capture the tree's unique individuality amidst all trees. It fails to account for the tree's singular experiences, like growing from 10 to 30 feet or being attacked by a fungus. These events don't align with the general definition of a tree. Merely providing a definition or essence doesn’t fully encapsulate the uniqueness of the individual.

Aristotle also touches upon artifacts, arguing they don't have a distinct "substance" or essential definition. This perspective is problematic, especially when considering human inventions like shields or airplanes, which did not always exist. His lack of clarity about the nature of artifacts leaves gaps in his theory.

Despite these criticisms, it's commendable that Aristotle had a scientific approach, particularly in biology. He was pioneering in the study of animal anatomy. However, his assertion that all species are eternal because of their unchanging forms is contradicted by modern evolutionary theory.

Aristotle's philosophy attributes all actions and developments to the "first unmoved mover," the source of all causality. He applies his concept of fourfold causality—material, efficient, formal, and final—both in physics and biology. He believes purpose is objective in reality and that a higher form is what a lower form naturally aspires to become.

Humans are animals, not vegetables. The distinguishing factor between humans and other animals is rationality.

The primary evidence for this is their ability to use language, a symbolic system allowing communication of thoughts, ideas, and feelings.

The rational aspect, or reason, equates to form, which mirrors the essence or substance of a thing. This is known to us as the definition. I hope I've clarified this point, as I don’t want confusion over such a fundamental concept.

Regarding the upper part mentioned earlier, the definition of a human is that they are a "rational animal." This definition means humans possess rationality as their primary characteristic. Such a definition corresponds to something real: sometimes referred to as Essence or Substance. Others may call it the essential being or identity of a thing. It remains consistent throughout changes, underlying each individual. This notion, however, was critiqued for not identifying an individual, but rather a type of individual. This concept is referred to as "form" in the form-matter theory of reality.

An indicator that you’ve identified a substance with a form is that it can only be the subject of a sentence, never the predicate. It can never have qualities attributed to it; instead, it serves as the subject to which qualities are assigned.

Objective purpose exists in nature. Lower species aspire to emulate higher ones. Lower forms strive to be as perfect as the superior form dictates. This hierarchical structure traces back to one ultimate form – what Plato termed the "Godfather of all Things." Aristotle also identified this as God, the highest possible form.

In Aristotle's view, nature, as we experience it on Earth, represents one realm of reality. With each succeeding sphere, as we move away from Earth, there's a decrease in matter and an increase in form, leading to less irrationality and more rationality. Passing through these layers, we eventually reach one that is pure form, devoid of matter, representing thought thinking itself or pure rationality. This entity is what Aristotle calls God.

He posited that our earthly experience exists at the base level, with Earth at the universe's center. This signifies the least rational or most irrational position. Moving away from this point, we approach pure form until we encounter thought thinking itself, an unmoved mover of all things: God. This God is so pure that it only contemplates itself.

This perspective spreads purpose throughout the universe, with each layer aspiring to resemble the one above it. Such a natural attraction, similar to magnetism, establishes a purpose in the world.

But what does this mean for human life? If we assume that rationality is essential to humans and through reason, they understand themselves and their world, then for what end should they strive? The answer lies in ethics, discerning good from evil.

For Aristotle, the ideal is clear: rationality. Emotions, he believed, often led humans astray, whether it be anger or jealousy. Reason, on the other hand, guides us toward the "golden mean."

For instance, in handling money, one could be miserly or spendthrift. The mean is moderate spending. Similarly, in matters of temperament or marriage, the mean offers balance. Aristotle recognized that some actions, like murder, inherently possess no mean.

Each person's mean varies depending on their circumstances. What is moderate for one might be excessive or insufficient for another.

Aristotle's ethical framework differs from Plato's in certain aspects. For instance, Plato believed that overpowering emotions could blind individuals to wrongdoing. Aristotle, however, argued that individuals sometimes knowingly act against their better judgment. People must train themselves to prioritize reason over emotion, a task initiated by parents and society. A just society rewards moderation and penalizes extremes.

Aristotle's ethics suggest a deep connection between human nature as a rational animal and a rational approach to moral decision-making.

However, this does not encompass all the facets of human behavior. Emotions, while sometimes overpowering, are not the sole sources of wrong actions. Evil can stem from misguided standards, a sense of injustice, or even rationally planned acts. Emotion can be good, and reason can be evil.

Christian ethics emphasizes loving God wholeheartedly, pointing towards the value of emotion in righteousness.

Almost every moral rule can have exceptions.

Even the rule against murder.

For example, it may be necessary for me to commit suicide so I don't reveal the position of my fellow soldiers, preventing hundreds from being killed. Perhaps that's the only way I can ensure their safety. I know that if I'm tortured, I will crack and divulge the information. But it's out of love for my comrades that I might take such an action.

There can be exceptions to every rule, except this one: "Love your neighbor as yourself."

Other rules exist to help us follow that primary command.

That is the overriding axiom; it's a love ethic. When we're uncertain about the right action, we aim to determine the most loving choice. That's our guiding principle. Does reason play a part? Of course it does. We make rational judgments about the most loving actions: How will they affect others? How will they affect me? What about those closest to me? We also consider another set of factors, because the command to love our neighbors as ourselves is influenced by our relationships with them. I owe more, out of love, to my wife and children than I do to those outside my family. Similarly, I owe more to relatives and neighbors than to those who are neither. Depending on circumstances, I might owe a particular kind of love to fellow countrymen.

I owe everyone love as I love myself, taking into account the relationships they have with me. This means the love I hold for my spouse, children, and parents differs from that for coworkers, neighbors, or church members.

All these considerations require deep thought and reasonable judgment. I must do my best and even seek advice from others when needed.

It's not that reason is unrelated to these decisions. However, love isn't just about succumbing to overwhelming emotions or impulsively reaching out to others.

I believe the love ethic that Christianity promotes addresses almost every ethical challenge I can think of, whereas other theories don't. Some may seem effective within a limited context, but outside of that, they fall apart. It's not always the case that a middle-ground approach to any contemplated action is the best. Sometimes, it might not be the right path at all.