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This Element discusses Heidegger's early (1924–1931) reading and critique of Hegel, which revolve around the topic of time. The standard view is that Heidegger distances himself from Hegel by arguing that whereas he takes time to be 'originarily' Dasein's 'temporality,' Hegel has a 'vulgar' conception of time as 'now-time' (the succession of formal nows). The Element defends the thesis that while this difference concerning the nature of time is certainly a part of Heidegger's 'confrontation' with Hegel, it is not its kernel. What Heidegger aspired to convey with his Hegel-critique is that they have a divergent conception of man's understanding of being (ontology). Whereas Heidegger takes ontology to be grounded in temporality, Hegel thinks it is grounded in 'the concept,' which has a dimension ('logos') manifesting eternity or timelessness. It is argued, contra Kojève, that Heidegger's reading (but not necessarily his critique) of Hegel is, in an important respect, correct.
This is a new edition of the fragments of 'Anonymus Iamblichi', the mysterious Greek author excerpted by Iamblichus in chapter 20 of Protrepticus. The fragments are an important but overlooked source for early Greek ethical and political thought. Among other things, they criticize traditional forms of social benefaction, and they offer a strikingly modern approach to the analysis of society and economy revolving around the concept of pistis ('trust'). The text and translation are supplemented by a lengthy introduction, which analyses the language and style of the fragments and explores them in the literary and philosophical context of early Socratic literature. The detailed commentary discusses issues pertaining to text and interpretation.
In this major new study, Tyler Huismann connects Aristotle's natural philosophy to modern theories of causation and provides fresh interpretations of classic issues. He links two of the most important notions in Aristotle's philosophy, accidents and causes, and using the concept of accidental causation as a guide, argues for ground-breaking proposals on some of the most foundational areas of Aristotle's thought: the relation between substances and accidents, the nature of efficient causation, the workings of 'qua,' the possibility of uncaused events, and the role of accidental causation in the natural world. Structured around close readings of Aristotle's Physics and Metaphysics and informed by contemporary theories of causation, Huismann's book offers students an accessible treatment of some of Aristotle's core texts, and provides specialists with a series of provocative interpretations.
In Book 4 of Plato's Republic, Socrates introduces what is regarded by scholars as the Platonic account of justice, according to which it is essentially internal and self-regarding, a matter of relations among the parts of a city or soul. In this book, Roslyn Weiss contends that there is another notion of justice, as other-regarding and external, which is to be found in a series of conversations in Book 1 between Socrates and three successive interlocutors. Weiss considers the relationship between justice as conceived in Book 1 and Book 4, and carefully examines what can be learned from each of the arguments. Her close analysis of Book 1 brings to light what Socrates really believed about justice, and extracts and explores this Book's many insights concerning justice—at both the political and the personal level.
This chapter addresses an inevitable question: How are later books of the Republic, and specifically Book 4, related to Book 1? It contends that justice as conceived in Book 1 is “external,” concerned with how one entity regards and treats another, and so is at odds with the novel definition of justice in Book 4, according to which it is “internal,” a matter of what happens within a single entity, whether a city or a soul. It is argued that in Book 4, Socrates, having been tasked with persuading Glaucon and Adeimantus that there is profit in being just, identifies a reward for being just, namely, the harmonious internal state of city and soul. Although he briefly calls this healthy and therefore desirable condition “justice,” he more frequently and aptly identifies it as “moderation.” This chapter makes the case that it is the account of justice found in Book 1 that more closely reflects Socrates’ (or Plato’s) understanding of it.
This chapter begins by exploring the dramatic elements of the dialogue’s brief but rich opening scene, which introduces the bully Polemarchus and sets up the dialogue’s alliances: Glaucon–Socrates and Polemarchus–Adeimantus. It then examines Cephalus’ turn to justice in the nick of time – as death approaches – and his surprising belief that without wealth a man has no alternative but to be unjust. It analyzes the objections Socrates raises to Cephalus’ conception of justice as payment of debts to men and gods, and suggests that the examples Socrates uses in his challenge to Cephalus are not simple exceptions to the rule but rather shift the conception of justice away from mechanical rule-following to the responsibility one incurs – when circumstances place one in a position of responsibility – to protect others from harm. The relationship between Cephalus and Polemarchus, father and son, is described and assessed, as is the relationship between their distinct views of justice.
This chapter establishes the philosophical value of Republic 1 and challenges the widely held assumption that the later books, 2–10, represent Plato’s real views. It notes that some scholars, seeing Rep. 1 as lacking gravitas – in both style and content – think it was originally not even part of the Republic; others see it as introducing ideas to be developed later; a third group sees it as introduced only to be rebuffed. The case is made for reading the Republic forward – that is, reading what comes later in light of Rep. 1, rather than reading Rep. 1 in light of what comes later: Reading in this way makes it possible to doubt the sincerity of some of Socrates’ later proposals – in particular, the idea that justice is internal. An argument is made for taking seriously, philosophically, the dramatic elements of Rep. 1, including its humor. Finally, the views of Rep. 1’s three interlocutors are related to one another.
This chapter tracks Socrates’ placement of the just man among the wise – an idea that is anathema to Thrasymachus for whom the just man is a fool – and extracts the important lesson that underlies Socrates’ ironic claim that injustice that is unmixed with justice makes a city, group, or individual less able to accomplish its unjust ends. It also assesses the final argument of Rep. 1, in which justice makes its way at last into the human soul. It contends that, although this concluding argument is fallacious, flagrantly equivocating on the expression “living well,” it nevertheless leaves the reader with valuable food for thought: Is not a man who is unjust inescapably wretched if his soul lacks its proper excellence?
This chapter considers Thrasymachus’ cynical rant, in which “the stronger” emerge as unjust men who think “night and day” about nothing other than their own advantage: No longer like unerring craftsmen, rulers are rather like other unjust men; the tyrant is revealed as Thrasymachus’ ideal. This chapter further probes what Socrates might mean by his odd claim that no one – not even good and decent men – rules willingly: If it is the work of good and just men to benefit others, do the reluctant rulers of Book 1, so similar to Rep. 7’s philosophers who have to be compelled to rule, qualify as just?
Polemarchus defines justice as the meting out of benefits and harms to friends and enemies as is fitting; his just man therefore necessarily requires skill: At what, however, is the just man skilled? Would not the skill of justice endorse thieving if that is what will help friends and harm enemies? Since t-justice (justice as a technē) is still justice, it must correctly identify friends and enemies lest it help enemies and harm friends. Socrates replaces these categories with good or just men and bad or unjust ones and asks: Is it just to harm those who are just, those who have committed no injustice? In Socrates’ final lesson to Polemarchus, the just man’s expertise is shown to harm no one, to make no one worse – that is, more unjust. Implicit in Socrates’ analogy with heat and dryness is that t-justice helps all people by making them “better,” more “lay-just” (or l-just), more just in the ordinary way. The chapter concludes with a brief excursus on the final argument in the Hippias Minor, in which “he who does wrong intentionally is the good man.”