Nichomachean Ethics, I.1

Tom has asked that we go through Aristotle's most famous work on ethics. This is well worth doing; indeed almost nothing is more worth doing. It will take quite a while, and we will move as slowly as necessary. The first book we will take especially slow.

We probably don't have anything Aristotle wrote. Most likely, what we have are summary notes by students. They are, therefore, dense and surprisingly difficult to understand because a lot is being summarized into each section. The opening sections are often worthy of tremendous deliberation. Physics 1, for example, is extraordinary; but it is apparently entirely set aside by the beginning of Physics 2. The exploration of the first chapter was nevertheless deeply worthwhile.

So we will take our time with it. 

Every art and every inquiry, and similarly every action and pursuit, is thought to aim at some good; and for this reason the good has rightly been declared to be that at which all things aim. But a certain difference is found among ends; some are activities, others are products apart from the activities that produce them. Where there are ends apart from the actions, it is the nature of the products to be better than the activities. Now, as there are many actions, arts, and sciences, their ends also are many; the end of the medical art is health, that of shipbuilding a vessel, that of strategy victory, that of economics wealth. But where such arts fall under a single capacity- as bridle-making and the other arts concerned with the equipment of horses fall under the art of riding, and this and every military action under strategy, in the same way other arts fall under yet others- in all of these the ends of the master arts are to be preferred to all the subordinate ends; for it is for the sake of the former that the latter are pursued. It makes no difference whether the activities themselves are the ends of the actions, or something else apart from the activities, as in the case of the sciences just mentioned.

A very great deal is being said here. First principle: every thing that we do aims at some good. Seems simple enough: why would we bother doing something that wasn't meant to obtain something good? Rarely do we engage in some activity that doesn't at least bring a passing pleasure; we might eat fried potatoes knowing they are bad for us, but at least they'll make us happy for a little while. 

So, we are aiming at the good, not the bad things that are perhaps necessary consequences. That's important. Often we know bad things are coming too, but we still pursue the goods in spite of the bad. The point is that action is chained to the good that it pursues; the Greek word is telos, meaning the end or goal.

Not all of these ends are equal. Aristotle wants us to discern the more important, or better, from the worse or lesser. Right away he wants us thinking about this. The potatoes aren't that important (indeed no one in Europe in Aristotle's time had heard of potatoes). The first division is in activities versus products that activities can produce. We were just talking about this recently. Walking is an activity; it can produce health. Health is better than walking was. Or it can produce an opportunity to engage in philosophy, talking and thinking as you walk. Philosophy is better than walking alone was. The products to be achieved by the activities are better than the activities alone, at least for us -- a pure activity, like God, maybe is not like we are. That is for the Metaphysics; the Ethics is for us.

Next he has a simple heuristic for trying to judge which of the products is better than other products. It is straightforward: the master art rules. Does it? Say you are a great helicopter pilot, and the product of your art is success in your missions. You are assigned many military missions and you succeed in them. What Aristotle is saying is that the strategist's product -- the one who assigned you the missions to attain some greater goal -- is better than your own product in succeeding in these missions. 

We can see the logic of this. The strategist hasn't done anything as glorious as the man who risked his life in dangerous and successful missions. Yet if the strategist chose the missions wisely, and selected a strategy that would fold them into a greater overall victory, the strategist has attained a greater good. Even though he may never have been in any danger, and spent his life in contemplation rather than in glory, the strategist may ultimately be due greater honor. The pilot executed successful missions, but the strategist won the war. 

Tom says he has guests this weekend, so we will pause and reflect until next week.