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This chapter argues that the interpretation of the dialogue should not be constrained by its relationship to the Apology, as has often been done, and that its chronological place among the dialogues is uncertain. The dialogue should be interpreted in its own terms.
Theophrastus' so-called Metaphysics presents a series of difficulties for various accounts of first principles, including Platonist ones but also – and especially – Aristotle's. Hence, many scholars think that Theophrastus abandons some of his teacher's core commitments, such as the prime mover or natural teleology. Other interpreters, by contrast, emphasize the aporematic character of the work and do not take Theophrastus to be truly critical of Aristotle. In the author's view, neither reading captures the character of the treatise. For, as argued in this Element, Theophrastus probes the Aristotelian account of first principles in earnest. But this is not to say that he abandons it. Rather, Theophrastus is an internal critic of an Aristotelian framework to which he himself is committed but of which he thinks that it requires further elaboration.
Many people read the Crito primarily as a companion piece to the Apology and as one of Plato's statements on the nature of politics and the citizen's relationship to the state. This book challenges both of those assumptions and shows, by close analysis of the characters, the argument and the dramatic features of the dialogue, that it is best read as an exploration of the nature and significance of Socratic moral reasoning. It shows that there is a single argument throughout the dialogue and that the 'Laws of Athens' are best understood as supporting Socrates' attempt to convince Crito that a commitment to the currently best rational argument justifies his submission to the death penalty, despite the injustice of his sentence. The importance of the Crito for later political and legal theory is great, but the reception of the dialogue should not blind us to its original intention and significance.
Hegel famously argues that the patriarchal, bourgeois nuclear family is a rational institution worth defending. Scholars have asked what exactly to do with this seemingly outdated part of his social and political philosophy. In particular, they have wondered whether Hegel's concept of the family can accommodate changes to our understanding of what counts as a family and what constitutes family relations. In this Element, I ask whether Hegel's defense of the family can be reconciled with family abolition, the project not of reforming the family as an institution, but of radically transforming it beyond recognition. By examining the three relationships that Hegel associates with the family – brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, and parents and children – I argue that Hegel's concept of the family can be reconciled with family abolition so described. What Hegel provides is an account of the family as a site at which important goods have been discovered and eveloped, without claiming that the family as an institution is necessary for, or even ideally suited to, their continued realization. These goods are singular individuality, ethical love, and material resources.
This Element is about the relationship between the political thought of the German philosopher G. W. F. Hegel (1770–1831) and a tradition of political thinking known as republicanism that traces its roots at least to 15th century Florence and perhaps further back to Aristotle. Throughout, we will be investigating this relationship along two dimensions. First, we will be asking whether it advances our understanding of Hegel's thought to consider him to be a republican, and if so, in what way and to what extent. The point here is not to assimilate Hegel to a cause or a label, but to see whether the individual outlines of Hegel's thought might be brought into focus by adopting the lens of republicanism. Second, we will be considering whether Hegel's thought offers criticism of various other forms of republicanism and how we might evaluate that criticism.
Do politicians have to get dirty hands – and what does that mean? Is it okay to be corrupt, when corruption is systemic? When is it a good thing to make compromises in politics? These are questions about political conduct that are raised in political ethics, a somewhat underappreciated subfield of political philosophy. This Element offers a fresh, systematic introduction to political ethics. It starts with a discussion of two challenges to the discipline: One comes from political realists who reject moralism in political philosophy and the other from public choice theorists who model politicians as rational egoists. It then discusses the problem of dirty hands, political corruption, and political compromise as three core topics of political ethics.
The chapter argues for a reading of Parts of Animals I.1, 639b11–640a9 as a continuous argument, divided into 3 main sections. Aristotle’s point in the first section is that teleological explanations should precede non-teleological explanations in the order of exposition. His reasoning is that the ends cited in teleological explanations are definitions, and definitions – which are not subject to further explanation – are appropriate starting points, insofar as they prevent explanations from going on ad infinitum. Aristotle proceeds in the following two sections to criticize certain non-teleological accounts offered by his predecessors on the grounds that they are explanatorily defective: those accounts – unlike teleological explanations – neither begin from appropriate starting points nor entail the phenomena that they purport to explain. Along the way, the chapter proposes an alternative way to understand what “hypothetical necessity” refers to, for Aristotle.
In Parts of Animals II.10, Aristotle introduces an approach to studying the nonuniform parts of animals: “to speak about the human kind first” (656a10). This chapter asks why Aristotle adopts this strategy and how he goes about implementing it. I argue that he selects it because he holds that human bodies offer particularly clear illustrations of some of his scientific concepts, including the relationship between parts and the ends they are for the sake of. As a result, he thinks that beginning with the causal explanations of human parts helps us to develop such explanations for the parts of other animals, especially when it is difficult to do so.
The analogies Aristotle employs in Parts of Animals (PA) are indispensable to the scientific investigation he undertakes in that work. This is because many analogies in PA express relations strong enough to ground a unique variety of unity. What is analogical unity? What sort of relationship must an analogy capture to ground such a unity? What role does analogy play in the scientific study of animals and their parts? I first contrast analogical unity with two different varieties of unity: formal unity and generic unity. I then examine the analogies in PA to discern which of the proportional relationships they express yield analogical unities. The most promising interpretations of these passages risk analogical unity’s collapse into one of the other varieties of unity Aristotle accepts. I argue that Aristotle employs the same concept of analogy in PA and in the Metaphysics and that this consonance allows us to preserve analogical unity’s unique explanatory role.
This chapter explores the three levels of material constitution presented in the Part of Animals: (a) elemental powers, (b) uniform and (c) nonuniform animate parts, in order to answer the question whether uniform materials that go into the constitution of animal bodies are produced for the sake of the organism. My answer is negative. At the bottom level, we encounter inanimate mixtures, not just elemental powers, that possess all the non-elemental material properties that may then be used by an animal nature. Aristotle’s chemistry (in the GC and Meteorology) exploits non-teleological processes that explain the dispositions of uniform material bodies. Such materials are then used by animal natures, through the teleological process of concoction, for the constitution of uniform and nonuniform parts of their bodies: the animal kind works within the confines set by the non-elemental material properties. This helps locate the difference between mixis and pepsis (concoction) and to understand why these conceptual tools are used in different contexts by Aristotle.
On the Parts of Animals (PA) is our main source for Aristotle’s explanations of animal character. This he locates in the qualities of an animal’s blood (or it’s analogue), whether it is hot, cold, thick, then, turbid, or pure (PA II.2, 651a16). This chapter sets out the main debate about character in Aristotle’s biological writings, whether it is formal or material, and argues that it is part of an animals’ material nature. While the materials existing in the blood vessels are not put there for the purpose of underlying character, they are often utilised for this end, displaying a complex coordination of material and formal natures. The chapter ends with a detailed analysis of which fluid elements in the body are responsible for underlying character and at which point they emerge in the digestive process. This further clarifies the relationship between animal bodies, nutritive processes, and the character potentials animals possess.
In Parts of Animals IV.10 Aristotle compares the human anatomy to the anatomy of other blooded, live-bearing animals with regard to their external, nonuniform parts. Of all these animals, Aristotle states, human beings alone have hands and arms instead of front-legs due to their erect posture. He associates the erect posture with human beings’ alleged divine nature, exhibited in their intellectual capacities. This poses two challenges that Aristotle addresses in the remainder of PA IV.10: first to show how most distinctive features of the human body (e.g. broad chests, fleshy buttocks, big feet, hands) can ultimately be traced back to the erect posture and second to account for the assumed connection between upright posture and intellectual capacities. Regarding the latter point the present chapter shows why, according to Aristotle, unimpaired thinking requires the upright posture and why the upright posture again requires a certain proportion between the upper and the lower bodily part.
Is mind a proper topic of investigation in Aristotle’s science of nature? The question is surprisingly vexed. Although some evidence suggests that mind should be studied by natural philosophy as well as first philosophy (metaphysics), Parts of Animals I.1 (641a32−b23) presents a series of arguments often construed as decisive evidence that he excludes mind from natural philosophy. This chapter goes through the relevant text and argues that Aristotle presents three arguments to exclude mind from nature but all in the voice of an opponent. Then in a final argument (641b23−642a1) he responds directly to the third argument, with indirect implications for the second argument as well.
Parts of Animals (PA) I.5 sends a strong message that the parts of the animal body are to be studied for the sake of the substance, the whole animal. If, as Aristotle suggests, it is the lowest or ‘indivisible’ species which are the substances, then we should study the parts of animals at this level. Yet many of the parts of animals are common to several species, so explaining them for each species would be repetitive and tiresome. We find thus in the PA two opposed explanatory tendencies: one ‘upwards’ toward the more common and greater simplicity and another ‘downwards’ toward the ultimate species and greater complexity. Aristotle’s proposed solution is to account for the various bodily parts at a general level and to descend to the species only when the parts differ significantly. In this chapter I discuss some difficulties for Aristotle’s solution.