Reading: Aristotle & Self-Evidence

So, the experience of self-evidence can be grounds for believing something is true, provided that either everyone or, at the very least, all experts concur with your perspective. Furthermore, this agreement should center around what is "in truth," which means a necessary truth. What does that signify? It implies that it's a principle that precludes deducing that a piano is out of tune just by hearing it. Whether the piano is in tune or not is a matter of fact. It's something true in a given instance but is not a necessary truth. For example, it's not like the axioms "one plus one equals two" or "things equal to the same thing are equal to each other". These are laws.

Aristotle added another dimension. He claimed that self-evidence must lead to an infallible truth. This means that if something is self-evident and universally recognized, and if it's grounded in a law, then its validity is indisputable. There would be absolutely no circumstances where one could err about its veracity.

"Whoa, Nellie," you might interject.

Let's take a moment to reflect on these points. Personally, I don't find them compelling. Now, allow me to explain why. Consider the first requirement: that everyone must agree. Whether this encompasses everyone who is rationally inclined, or only the experts, it's an impractical criterion. "Everyone" in logic isn't just those present; it includes everyone from the past and future. How can one verify universal agreement? Even if we narrow it down to "all experts," this still incorporates experts from all eras. So the first issue is that if this is a criterion, it's virtually impossible to implement. And if it's unimplementable, what validity does it have?

Furthermore, would we genuinely dismiss a self-evident truth if just one individual, say Joe Schmo down the street, didn't perceive it as self-evident?

Moving to the next stipulation: the truth in question must be necessary. Truths can either be simple facts, like someone watching this tape, or they can be laws. However, the challenge here is identifying whether this criterion itself is self-evident. For it to be self-evident, by its definition, it must be a law. Yet, why should only laws be deemed self-evident?

As an illustration, consider the claim about the piano being out of tune. It's not a law. If Descartes' criterion is accepted as a law, how do we ascertain its veracity? If we can't claim it's self-evident without proving its necessity, then from where do we deduce its status as a necessary truth?

Lastly, the infallibility requirement. It asserts that if something is self-evident and a necessary truth, it can never be false. But even with seemingly undeniable truths, like "one plus one equals two," there are nuances to consider. As Whitehead highlighted, the context of "one" and "one" matters. Furthermore, why must it be impossible to be wrong about a judgment for it to be infallible?

Consider a hypothetical where extraterrestrials use technology to manipulate human perceptions. This could make us believe falsities as truths. Just because a scenario is conceivable where a judgment could be mistaken doesn't strip its general infallibility.

I can't think of any belief for which there aren't some circumstances that you might be mistaken. Even for beliefs that are supposed to be incorrigible or about our own internal states. Take, for example, the belief like, "I have an ache in my right knee." How could you be mistaken about that? Yet, there are instances where people have been. They thought the pain was in their knee, but upon further examination, they realized, "Oh, I guess not. It's my thigh that hurts." When they push around on their knee, it doesn't hurt. But push up a little higher, and it does. People have been mistaken about such things.

These restrictions, to me, seem completely arbitrary. Why believe in these restrictions? Are they self-evident? Can they be proven? It's clear that none of them can be self-evident because they don't fulfill their own requirements. None of them can be proven either. So, in my view, we should disregard them.

I've got a point to make regarding Aristotle. He gives us these three restrictions. And then, interestingly, the God as Aristotle defines - this pure form that's necessary and which all experts agree upon - that God passes. We can't be wrong about this God. Yet, the God of Scripture is excluded. Essentially, this is religious bias: his concept of divinity is self-evident, while any other concept of divinity is not.

This perspective is not commendable. I find it utterly without merit and unconvincing.

As Aristotle continues, he says, in book zeta of the metaphysics, "I want to apply the word substance to four main objects." He refers to the essence of a thing, the universal classification, the genus, and even to the substrate of the matter that gets molded into a certain form. He suggests that which is primary in reality and without qualification must be the substance. In his view, substances are primary in every definition, order of knowledge, and time. This is what he refers to as "secondary substance." It is the essence of a thing: what it means to be a tree, human, or horse. In the realm of knowledge, it's what we first come to know and understand.

Diving deeper into his words, he suggests, "Evidently, nothing but matter remains." But this is where I find Aristotle making a concession. What he aims to express is that when you strip away (mentally) all else true about an object, what remains is the matter upon which the form is impressed. However, if you truly strip away everything, absolutely nothing remains.

Take, for instance, this stylus I've been using. It has tangible physical characteristics. Yet if we remove all its non-physical attributes, what do we have left? If we eliminate its quantity, spatial shape, size, location, sensory perceptions, and logical properties, is there any substance left of the stylus? I contend there isn't.

Aristotle seems to be arguing in circles. He presupposes that form and matter are eternal and self-existent. He assumes the forms are unchanging, even if the matter isn't. However, the arguments presented to support these claims are unconvincing and seem to simply restate the assumptions.

Of once again, he repeats: substance is the only thing definable. A definition is the formula of an essence, right? It's the statement of what the essence of a thing contains, what it includes and rules out. An essence belongs to substances, either only or chiefly in the unqualified sense.

So, having restarted his investigation, he raises those questions. He presents these arguments and comes to the same conclusion. Are they new arguments? No, not better than the old ones I'm afraid, but they are new, and he's trying to pile up the evidence to convince you.

Once again, he gives you that formula that I mentioned: "Till T A n, n i." This represents "The what it is to be" - whatever it is we're discussing. That's the formula. That's the definition. So, there has to be a definition of what it is to be a tree, a horse, or whatever. That definition corresponds to something real we call its essence or substance. The essence is what stands under all of the other appearances and changes of the thing, and remains the same. This guarantees the identity of that thing. However, I've already objected that this doesn't work in principle because what's supposed to identify the individual is a general, universal formula. The definition of a tree applies to all trees; it doesn't specify this individual one or why it survived a forest fire.

This approach streamlines Plato's ideas. He doesn't need a form for every nuanced quality in the world. And every shade and every nuance of those qualities, as well as all things that possess them, get reduced. Colors, for instance, might fade, not to mention the "perfect" forms in another world, because they're not primary. These attributes must be assigned to something. Mathematical qualities, colors, and quantities are attributed to things, so they aren't substances themselves. Instead, each object has its own essence, which is its being, and its self-existent substance. Notice that Aristotle also refutes Plato's doctrine of self-predication. For Plato, each form was an instance of its own quality. So, the perfect form for "green" was green. Aristotle discards that idea. The essence of all horses is within the horses in this world, not in another realm. It's not another horse in a world of forms that all horses here imitate; it's the formula of what it is to be a horse.

That formula signifies the essence of a thing, which is its substance. We can't ignore matter in Aristotle's depiction of reality because it's what gets shaped into various things. However, I have to pose a question: Is this really an account of the things we experience in our surroundings? Or has it become so abstract and removed that we barely recognize them? For Aristotle, all sensory properties of an object are disregarded. They don't count as a genuine part of the object. When I look at a tree with its elegant branches and leaves, every single appearance is dismissed. It's not genuinely part of the tree. In this regard, he doesn't represent what we normally experience. I perceive the tree as having sensory attributes, but not only them. These sensory properties belong to this particular object. And I may wonder: what more is there to this object? There's much more. Objects have mathematical, spatial, physical, sensory, logical, and, in the case of a tree, biological properties. Why should I reject any of them?

Now, does Aristotle's account genuinely inform us about the identity of an object and the cause of it? He intends to convey that while appearances can be misleading and changeable, the very same, identical individual object endures all these transformations. Yet he identifies this permanence with a formula. How can what is true for all trees denote the identity of this particular tree? It doesn't really represent us, does it? Does it offer a satisfactory account of the nature of things? Well, to the extent that it informs me about the definition of a tree, yes, it tells me something about the nature of trees. It's not entirely unproductive, but it's insufficient. If I'm a gardener concerned about a specific tree, I need to know about its unique responses to my care, not generalities applicable to all trees of its kind.

Are the things being examined actually the things we experience? No, their sensory appearance is dismissed right from the start. I believe Aristotle, to a significant extent, commits the same error he accused Plato of. He attempts to define the identity of a changing entity with an unchanging subject. How can the identity of a tangible thing be intangible? How can the logical form of something cause it to exist in a non-logical form? And if these two realms did intersect, how could they interact to produce all the other kinds of attributes that objects exhibit? There's no satisfactory answer.