Nicomachean Ethics I.11

A quite short section today.

That the fortunes of descendants and of all a man's friends should not affect his happiness at all seems a very unfriendly doctrine, and one opposed to the opinions men hold; but since the events that happen are numerous and admit of all sorts of difference, and some come more near to us and others less so, it seems a long- nay, an infinite- task to discuss each in detail; a general outline will perhaps suffice.

It is strange to see the philosopher weigh in against a doctrine as being "unfriendly." That is also how Terence Irwin gives it, though, in his translation. In the Greek original it is ἄφιλον, which is usually 'friendless' rather than 'unfriendly,' but I trust either of these translators' Greek more than my own very limited Greek. Harris Rackham's translation gives it as "heartless." 

In any case it's not a proof or a logical argument; it's a sense that the doctrine isn't desirable and that it is widely rejected and without popularity. That doesn't mean it isn't true.

If, then, as some of a man's own misadventures have a certain weight and influence on life while others are, as it were, lighter, so too there are differences among the misadventures of our friends taken as a whole, and it makes a difference whether the various suffering befall the living or the dead (much more even than whether lawless and terrible deeds are presupposed in a tragedy or done on the stage), this difference also must be taken into account; or rather, perhaps, the fact that doubt is felt whether the dead share in any good or evil.

That sentence could use some analysis. If some misadventures have more or less weight than others, then also our friends' misadventures may be more or less important to them. Also, it seems to Aristotle that it matters whether the misfortunes happen to a living or a dead man. 

That's sensible enough. It would bother almost anyone if a financial disaster befell them that cost them literally everything they own; but every dead man immediately yields up all his worldly goods, and seems not to suffer from it much at all. The ancients sometimes buried men and women with grave goods, but not all of their goods; and even in the famous Viking funeral sequence recorded by Ibn Fadhlan at least some was left to the inheritance. 

Aristotle says that this living/dead distinction is even more important than the truth/fiction distinction: a dead man seems to suffer less than a fictional one from the loss of his goods, say. So perhaps the dead do not suffer any evil, or any good. That was the unfriendly doctrine. It might be true. 

For it seems, from these considerations, that even if anything whether good or evil penetrates to them, it must be something weak and negligible, either in itself or for them, or if not, at least it must be such in degree and kind as not to make happy those who are not happy nor to take away their blessedness from those who are. The good or bad fortunes of friends, then, seem to have some effects on the dead, but effects of such a kind and degree as neither to make the happy unhappy nor to produce any other change of the kind.

Aristotle ends on some middle ground. There is something about the fortune of friends or descendants that might affect the dead; but it can't be very strong. The blessed remain blessed; the unhappy dead cannot be made happy by us afterwards, no matter what we try to do.

This seems consistent with much of later theology, although the Church has sold pardons and indulgences at times, and many a man has donated in the hope of Masses sung for the repose of his soul. It is doubtful that these do much good; but why not hedge your bets?