Nicomachean Ethics VIII.14

Closing Book VIII, more comparisons between friendships political and actual.

Differences arise also in friendships based on superiority; for each expects to get more out of them, but when [such differences] happens the friendship is dissolved. Not only does the better man think he ought to get more, since more should be assigned to a good man, but the more useful similarly expects [to get more]; they say a useless man should not get as much as they should, since it becomes an act of public service and not a friendship if the proceeds of the friendship do not answer to the worth of the benefits conferred.

The 'better' man -- the Greek frankness about differences in social rank is disturbing to American readers, who prefer a strong sense of social equality even where there are strong differences in wealth or other social standing -- thus will only 'befriend' lesser men if they are useful men. Generally one's useless friends are of the pleasure-based variety; one can put up with spending time with a useless person only if one enjoys their company. 

For they think that, as in a commercial partnership those who put more in get more out, so it should be in friendship. But the man who is in a state of need and inferiority makes the opposite claim; they think it is the part of a good friend to help those who are in need; what, they say, is the use of being the friend of a good man or a powerful man, if one is to get nothing out of it?

As mentioned in the commentary on VIII.13, looking for the practical benefits one gets out of the relationship is not the mark of a true friendship but of a deceptive pretense at such friendship. At least the pleasant communication granted each other in a commercial relationship doesn't attempt the pretense that it is really a friendship; if one befriends a powerful man only to extract things from him, or one seeks a marriage only because of some practical benefit to be obtained, the basic deceit of the arrangement will eventually come out. At that point, the friendship (or the marriage) likely will be dissolved.

At all events it seems that each party is justified in his claim, and that each should get more out of the friendship than the other-not more of the same thing, however, but the superior more honour and the inferior more gain; for honour is the prize of virtue and of beneficence, while gain is the assistance required by inferiority.

Virtutis gloria merces has come up before, in IV.3, one of the chapters on magnanimity. Here, though, we see an attempt to create an equality between unequals by providing unequal amounts of different goods. All trade is like this: you have more cash, but want apples; I have more apples, but want cash. The trade is unequal: I receive more cash than you (indeed, you part with cash); you receive more apples than I (etc.). Yet the trading creates a kind of equality, because we are both satisfied with the outcome: you now have the apples you wanted, and I have some cash to spend on what else I might need.

For whatever reason this tends to strike contemporary readers as more acceptable in the case of capitalism than social exchange. We tend to object to providing the rich and powerful with honor in return for some benefit; that strikes Americans especially as unworthy toadying, or at best 'social climbing.' It was thought normal and proper to Aristotle. 

Now, he makes the transition from these lessons about personal relationships to public ones:

It seems to be so in constitutional arrangements also; the man who contributes nothing good to the common stock is not honoured; for what belongs to the public is given to the man who benefits the public, and honour does belong to the public.

Honors include, in Aristotle's as well as Plato's political philosophy, public offices. Thus 'honor belongs to the public' doesn't just mean that it is the public writ large that erects statues or holds parades, though it does mean that; it also means that the public chooses its officers. 

It thus makes sense to say that the public has the right to choose whom to honor, and that they shouldn't grant those honors to those who contribute nothing good to the common stock. If you're going to elect public officers they should be virtuous people who have proven their capacity as well as their willingness to sacrifice for the common good. That is why veterans have often done well in elected office: their advocates can point to clear demonstrations of worth.

Likewise, 'honor is the prize of virtue' is a wise guideline here. It's very helpful to show that the person being considered for an office has the right virtues to perform that office well. You should not elect a cowardly sheriff, nor a self-indulgent treasurer. If you decide that you must have these officers, you should at least choose candidates for the office who are fit for the powers invested in them.

It is not possible to get wealth from the common stock and at the same time honour. For no one puts up with the smaller share in all things; therefore to the man who loses in wealth they assign honour and to the man who is willing to be paid, wealth, since the proportion to merit equalizes the parties and preserves the friendship, as we have said.

It seems like it is possible to do that at least in our society, especially if we consider public office as one of the honors to be had. Nancy Pelosi has been Speaker of the House and yet has greatly enriched herself by the office; the Obamas became multi-millionaires thereby; the Clintons profited wildly from their alleged charity fund. Even the current president, though he takes no salary (preferring honor?) profits at least a bit through public deals conducted in his companies' favor, and through foreign governments taking lavish stays at his hotels. 

Perhaps the point is that extracting wealth from the common stock should always be seen as diminishing one's honor in the same degree. It is one thing to have one's expenses paid, for example; that is not extracting wealth but being made whole. Yet perhaps it is more honorable to do the service for free, if one can; and if one uses their public position to enrich themselves through insider trading and special knowledge, or by taking bribes for favors, dishonor rather than honor should follow.

This then is also the way in which we should associate with unequals; the man who is benefited in respect of wealth or virtue must give honour in return, repaying what he can.

As a rule, this does happen even in America: it is quite usual for someone whose career was forwarded by an older co-worker, professor, or boss to speak honorably about that person at their retirement, for example. Repayment in the form of honoring those who came before you and helped you become established is thought normal and proper, not (as described above) a sort of social-climbing; but at the time of the retirement it is a kind of repayment for goods already long given, rather than a trade of goods for attentions. 

For friendship asks a man to do what he can, not what is proportional to the merits of the case; since that cannot always be done, e.g. in honours paid to the gods or to parents; for no one could ever return to them the equivalent of what he gets, but the man who serves them to the utmost of his power is thought to be a good man.

We have discussed this point adequately but it merits reinforcement.  

This is why it would not seem open to a man to disown his father (though a father may disown his son); being in debt, he should repay, but there is nothing by doing which a son will have done the equivalent of what he has received, so that he is always in debt. But creditors can remit a debt; and a father can therefore do so too. At the same time it is thought that presumably no one would repudiate a son who was not far gone in wickedness; for apart from the natural friendship of father and son it is human nature not to reject a son's assistance. But the son, if he is wicked, will naturally avoid aiding his father, or not be zealous about it; for most people wish to get benefits, but avoid doing them, as a thing unprofitable.-So much for these questions.

Thus ends Book VIII, with only two books remaining in the EN. 

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