.
In Chapter 1 of
Book A Aristotle states that all people by
nature desire to know, or desire understanding. He then discusses a
number of different kinds of thing that we might seek in order to
satisfy this desire. He is particularly concerned with finding out what
"wisdom" (sophia, that which philosophers are said to seek) involves or
is said to involve. Note that Aristotle does not say that everyone who
desires understanding will seek "wisdom".
Aristotle concludes at the
end of Chapter 1 that "wisdom" is a
"science" (see glossary at left)
of some sort of principles and causes (archai
and aitiai;
see glossary). What kinds of principles and causes these
might be, and whether anyone has or can have a thorough understanding
of them, will be discussed in Chapter 2.
Consider Aristotle's first
sentence. If all humans by nature desire to
know or understand, then we all always at some level desire
understanding. Perhaps the desire for knowledge or understanding is not
always (or ever) a person's foremost concern, but if we do have this
desire, we must always to some extent feel that we lack some
understanding. If we had perfectly thorough knowledge or understanding,
or if we thought we did, we would not desire (long for) knowledge or
understanding; we would have no more curiosity. If a person knew
everything else but the fact that he/she knew everything else, he/she
would still lack knowledge, and still have something to be curious
about. This desire to understand cannot be forced on people; that is
what Aristotle means by saying that we have it "by nature" - babies,
for example, show it spontaneously, without having to be taught it (in
fact, the desire for understanding enables babies to learn in the first
place) and without compulsion. But Aristotle does not simply assume
that all people by nature desire understanding; the first two chapters
provide support for this idea.
In the second sentence,
Aristotle points out that we like, and seek,
even sensations that we don't need for any particular project or
purpose. A modern example of this occurs when drivers slow their cars
on the highway to look at an accident that is not blocking the road and
in which they cannot provide any help to the victims. Another example
is when children ask to see and touch things like radios and toasters
"to see how they work", when in fact looking at or touching the items
will not reveal how they work. Sight, says Aristotle, is the sensation
that (if we have it) gives us more knowledge or awareness than the
others, and makes many distinctions clear. (Note that Aristotle does
not say that sight makes us know in the highest degree possible in
life; he says only that among the 5 senses, sight is the one that makes
us know in the highest degree - that is, in a higher degree than touch,
taste, hearing, or smell.) This does not imply that sight gives us all
of the knowledge that we might seek (see 981b10), nor does it imply
that the distinctions that sight makes clear are not made by us, or
that these distinctions reflect the way things really are independent
of our thinking.
Possibly the reason why
Aristotle thinks that seeing gives (or is
thought to give) more knowledge or information(1)
than the other senses
is this: Sight appears to show us source of our sensations. For
example, if you say, "I hear someone walking in the hall," and you
can't see the hall at the time, what you mean is "I hear what sounds
like footsteps in the hall." If someone were to ask you whether you
knew, from the sound alone, that there was really a person walking in
the hall, chances are you'd say no - after all, perhaps what you heard
was an echo from somewhere beyond the hall, or a tape recording, or
pieces of plaster falling, or something like that. You don't have any
information from your senses about what is making the sound. In
contrast, if you can see the hall, it's usual to say, "I see someone
walking in the hall." We don't generally say, "I see the image of
someone walking in the hall," if we can see the hall. We tend to take
for granted, that is, that sight shows us what is producing our
sensations - in this case, a person walking in the hall. But in fact,
sight isn't telling us the whole story, and it may be misleading: for
what we don't see or otherwise sense is how the sensations are being
produced, whether the person we claim to see is really there or only
seems to be because of mirrors or hallucinations, why the person is (or
isn't) in the hall, why they don't float instead of touching the
ground, and so on.
In the second paragraph
Aristotle discusses how some species of
animals(2)
get information over and above sensations alone. Not all
animals have memory, as far as we can tell(3),
but some do, or appear
to: an animal that seems to recognize members of its family after
having been separated from them for hours or days; an animal that has a
specific nest or living space that it always returns to; and so on. If
an animal has memory, it can use previously gathered information in
order to act prudently (see glossary at
left), that is, to act to preserve
itself and possibly its fellows. For example, an ant or a bee, insects
that seem to be able to remember the scent of their own nest or colony,
will be able to find its way back to the colony and even get food there
if it finds none elsewhere. These insects also repair damage that
occurs to their homes. A worm, on the other hand, can starve if it gets
too far from food or water; a worm that has moved away from a food or
water source may not go back; it does not seem to recall that it has
come from a place that would sustain it, and must turn around in order
to survive.
If an animal is prudent,
and has memory, and can hear, Aristotle
thinks, it can be taught. (Note that Aristotle is not saying that
animals only learn when they are taught; he is well aware that an
individual animal can learn things on its own. He is only talking here
about the kind of learning that is the result of teaching.) Most
likely, he is thinking of the way in which the Greeks taught horses and
dogs, namely by sounds such as whistles and simple verbal commands. or
perhaps he has in mind the primary way in which Greek children were
taught, namely by means of words. There was no language of hand-signs
in ancient Greece. But if you consider other ways of teaching and
conditioning animals, including humans, you'll note that all of these
ways have the following in common: they involve a symbol system - a
system of words, pictures, whistles, hand signs, gestures, animal
calls, objects associated with good or bad consequences, and so on.
The point, then is that
knowledge or awareness of anything beyond what
is immediately given by sensation requires the use of a symbol system,
a way of referring to that which is not now present (or not now clear)
to sensation. It is through symbols (such as the words 'how' and 'why',
which are not the names of any sensations) that we inquire, and come to
find out things about what we call the universe, things that are not
immediately apparent. At the same time, the symbols are not the things
they are supposed to be symbols of (the word 'car' is not a car; the
word 'word' is a word, it's true, but it is not all words). The
connection between the symbols and what they are symbols of may be
arbitrary. In any case, the connection would seem not to be able to be
explained by means of the symbols system, because that explanation
would have to use what it was trying to explain. For these reasons,
some things may be forever unknown to us. That is, we don't know
whether our symbol systems allow us to reflect or express the way
things really are (if there really are things). This could be a reason
why we always think something is unknown to us, why we always desire to
know/understand.
In the third through fifth
paragraphs Aristotle discusses the other
cognitive capacities that humans have. We share with some other animals
the capacity for empeiria
(translated in your text as 'experience'),
but as far as Aristotle knows, humans are the only animals who also use
techne
(translated in your text as 'art'; also translatable as 'craft'
or 'skill'), episteme (translated in your text as 'science'; also
translatable as 'demonstrable knowledge'), and logismos
(translated in
your text as 'judgment'; also translatable as 'reasoning' or
'calculation'). (See the glossary at
left for a discussion of these
terms.)
The mention of a word meaning 'judgment' or 'reasoning' may provide a
clue as to what Aristotle wants to emphasize in these paragraphs. That
is, if you don't reason about what happens, you won't learn why it
happens, how to get it to happen (or not happen) again if possible, and
so on. You won't be a good judge of what has really happened if you
don't use reasoning, for things are not always the way they appear to
be, the way you want them to be, the way someone else tells you they
are, etc. Note too that the word that is translated in your text as
'judgment' is logismos,
whose root is logos; logos primarily
means 'word'. We do tend to use words, numbers, and other symbols to
get from claims about what happened to explanations of why it happened.
Aristotle now goes on to discuss the differences between empeiria and
techne,
"experience" and "art" respectively. (It might help in reading
his discussion to keep in mind that empeiria is not
simply what we
today would call "having an experience" but rather "learning from
experience": recognizing patterns that you observe occurring in a group
of similar or related situations.)
The difference, in fact, between "experience" and "art" is that
"experience" gives us a basis for saying that things have happened in a
certain way, or followed a certain pattern; "art" gives us a basis for
saying or believing something about why things happened that way. For
example, suppose you have memories of several flu epidemics that
occurred over a period of years. If you think about your recollections
and realize that certain things happened each time, that certain
patterns emerged, you will go from "memory" to "experience" (empeiria).
If you realize that when Callias and Socrates got the flu they were
given a certain medicine and recovered, and you realize that when
Xanthippe got the flu she did not take the medicine and still
recovered, and you realize that when Coriscus got the flu he took the
medicine and died, these realizations would be classed as "experience."
None of these realizations, however, tell you why some people recovered
and some did not. None of these realizations tell you how the medicine
works or whether in fact the medicine had anything to do with people
getting well (or failing to get well). These "why's," these
explanations and prognoses, are functions of the medical "art"
(techne):
doctors look for what explains the patterns they observe, and
then test their explanations. Many people might notice the same things
about who recovers from the flu and under what circumstances that
happens, but only the people who study the medical "arts" will have an
idea of why these things happened, of what factors are involved, etc.
When Aristotle mentions patients who are "phlegmatic" and patients who
are "bilious," he is using terms that doctors used in his day to
describe different kinds of bodily constitution. These are examples of
what doctors in his time took into account in order to determine
whether and why a patient is likely to respond to a certain treatment.
That is, doctors believed that "bilious" people would all tend to have
similar reactions to a given illness or a given treatment, and that the
"bilious" people's reactions would generally be different from
"phlegmatic" people's reactions to the same thing. Today we might say
that all people with hypertension are likely to react one way to
certain kinds of illness (all other factors being the same),
and that this reaction is likely to be different from the reactions of
people who do not have hypertension. In other words, as Aristotle says,
the doctor has taken "many experiences," many examples of patterns
he/she has observed, and then formed one "general/universal belief
concerning similar facts" about why the patterns occurred. Of course,
to be a doctor one has to do more than formulate a belief about why
things happened; one also must test it to see whether it is successful
in figuring out the right treatments.
The point that Aristotle is making is not that doctors or other skilled
artisans are always correct in their explanations. Nor is he saying
that doctors and other skilled artisans are the only ones who can
produce a desired result: he even notes that people who are lucky and
people who have been told what to do but don't understand why they
should do it can also be successful at producing desired results.
Rather, he is saying that "art" (techne)
and "science" (episteme)
require a kind of thinking that experience (empeiria) does not require.
This additional kind of thinking is examining, reasoning about, and
testing in order to find an explanation. This additional kind of
thinking then opens up many additional possibilities for learning.
People who have "arts" are often considered "wiser" than others,
Aristotle says, precisely in virtue of their being able to explain
successfully why things happen.
It should be pointed out here that people who have "arts" are sometimes
wrong: sometimes what they identify as the "causes"
(reasons, "why's":
aitiai)
of something are not really what causes the thing to be the way
it is.(4)
Or, sometimes what they identify as the
"causes" are only a small part of what makes the thing be the way it
is. People with "art" only have to know what is useful for practicing
or teaching their craft. Even if their beliefs are correct, they only
need to know the "why" or explanation of things up to a certain point.
Their explanations are in some way incomplete.
For example, a farmer is a person who has the art of growing crops. If
you asked a successful ancient Greek farmer why he planted his crops in
the way he did, he might tell you that barley requires a certain sort
of soil in order to grow well, and olives another. He might tell you
what to look for in soil, or what to add to soil, if you wanted to grow
the same crops. But in order to be a successful farmer, he would not
need to know the molecular structure of different kinds of soil (which
is part of why the soil is the way it is), he would not need to know
why barley exists or what makes it edible for humans.
If a person really wanted to seek wisdom, he or she would investigate
further. He or she would take any explanation, such as the farmer's,
and if it seemed incorrect or incomplete, the seeker after wisdom would
apply the same way of thinking as the people with "art" (asking why,
reasoning, testing hypotheses). But the seeker after wisdom would go
even further, and would go in more directions, looking for a complete
and fundamental account that would settle all issues. That is discussed
in Chapter 2.
In the final paragraph of Chapter 1, Aristotle concludes that people
are called "wise" in relation to how much they know (or appear to know)
of certain causes and principles (certain reasons and sources for
things; see Glossary). Specifically, he says, "what is called 'wisdom'
is concerned with first causes and principles"
- ultimate reasons and
sources for things. He will try to establish and support this point in
Chapter 2.
The basic idea seems to be that the more fundamental the reasons and
sources one knows, the more one is able to explain. And the more one is
able to explain, the wiser one is said to be. Thus if a person could
explain the ultimate reasons and sources for things, he or she would be
said to have the ultimate in "wisdom."
Throughout Chapter 1, Aristotle has talked about how people regard
those who have "art," about whom people admire, about what people say
or believe, about what is called "wisdom," and so on. That is, he has
been examining what people of his time and place say and think
concerning the thing that philosophers are supposed to be seeking
(wisdom). He has not committed himself to any assessment about whether
what people say and believe is accurate, inaccurate, or even coherent.
Instead, he is going to investigate these things that people say and
believe, to see whether they make sense and whether they can be
supported with evidence and valid reasoning. He has not even said yet
whether he thinks that wisdom exists, or that anyone has it. When
Aristotle uses the expression 'what is called "wisdom"' one might
reasonably ask whether he means us to examine whether what is called
'wisdom' really should have that name.
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Aristotle has concluded that people believe that what is called
'wisdom' is concerned with the first causes and principles, that is,
that people believe that what is called 'wisdom' is concerned with the
ultimate reasons and sources for things. However, that does not tell us
much - for example, it does not tell us what those ultimate reasons and
sources might be like. It does not tell us whether we can find those
ultimate reasons and sources, or how to go about looking for them. It
also does not tell us whether Aristotle thinks people are right to
believe that what is called 'wisdom' is concerned with the ultimate
reasons and sources for things. Relax (or, hold on tight) -- Aristotle
is going to go into at least some of that in Chapter 2. (He won't
finish there, of course; there are several more chapters of Book I,
plus 13 more Books in the Metaphysics.)
Specifically, Aristotle had said, "wisdom" seems to be some sort of
episteme, some sort of demonstrable knowledge, concerning the ultimate
reasons (why's) and sources. Since he is not saying that he himself has
"wisdom," and is trying to figure out what it was people said that the
early philosophers were seeking when they named them "philosophers"
(lovers of wisdom), Aristotle starts by analyzing what people in his
time said and believed about what they called "wisdom" and about those
whom they called "wise people." Aristotle is NOT accepting these
opinions people have at face value; he will analyze them to see what
they mean and whether they make sense. He does not say that he believes
everything that people say. He will examine what people say in order to
see what if anything these opinions imply about whether anyone has such
a body of knowledge as "wisdom" is supposed to be, or whether and how
one could tell whether it exists. Aristotle does not come to an
explicit conclusion about these things, so the reader is left to ponder
his points.
A.
Characteristics that people (in
Aristotle's time) believed concerning wisdom and the wise person
People believed that the wise person:
A1. has secure demonstrable
knowledge of all things in so far as this is possible (that is, a
general knowledge of all things, not a specific knowledge of each
individual thing);
A2. can acquire knowledge of what is hard and not easy for anyone to
know
A3. is more accurate than others (more accurate than those who are not
called "wise");
A4. is better able to teach causes than others are (Note: your text
combines 3 & 4, but the Greek expression justifies the
separation - as does the fact that some people seem to have A3 without
A4, or vice-versa.)
People believed that of the "sciences," the bodies of demonstrable
knowledge,
A5. a body of knowledge pursued for its own sake and for the
sake of
understanding is wisdom to a higher degree (or, "is more nearly wisdom"
- the Greek phrase is ambiguous) than a body of knowledge pursued for
the sake of what it produces or what results from it
A6. a body of knowledge that is fit to order other bodies of knowledge
is wisdom to a higher degree (or, "is more nearly wisdom") than the
ones it is fit to order.
B. The basic ideas behind these things
people say about wisdom and the wise person
(It may be helpful to observe that Aristotle seems to be reporting what
people say about those people whom they believe to be wise in a given
field. He is then generalizing to consider the case of comprehensive
wisdom, wisdom across all fields.)
B1. The most knowledgeable person in a given field
is not necessarily someone who has seen every instance of the kind of
thing his/her field deals with, but rather is someone who understands
and can properly use the basic categories and principles that operate
in that field, and who therefore understands all subordinate factors.
For example, if there are several mechanics working in an auto shop,
the mechanic who is considered to have the greatest understanding of
cars is not necessarily the one who has worked on the largest number of
cars, or the one who has worked on the largest number of different
models of car. Rather, the mechanic who is considered to have the best
understanding of cars is the one who has the best understanding of the
basic ways that cars work in general, the basic specifications and
systems used by each manufacturer in a given year, and what the
differences between each model of car implies about how each car will
work.
B2. Some things are hard for some people to learn,
but not for others. When something is easy to learn, it may not require
a lot of understanding in order to learn it - at least, for the people
who find it easy. For example, some people find it easy to learn to
speak different languages. They hear patterns and remember them,
without learning the principles behind the patterns. Others struggle to
learn, and work hard to understand the underlying principles. This
shows that ability to do something (such as speak a language) may or
may not involve deep understanding. However, if there is something that
is hard and not easy for ANYONE to learn, that means that those who do
learn it must struggle to gain the basic principles, since no one can
do it the easy way.
B3. The person in a given field who is said to be
the most expert would be the one who understands the most about what it
is that accounts for the differences among the things studied in that
field; the one who knows how to deal with each of these differences
appropriately for purposes of that field; and the one who understands
problems most exactly. That person would be able to be the most
accurate.
B4. The person who is most able to teach or to
explain why the things his/her field studies happen the way they do,
would be called most wise in that field. This would be the person who
could explain the "why" of the things studied in that field, to the
extent that such an explanation is called for in that field.
B5. If you pursue a body of knowledge only for the
sake of what it enables you to do on a practical level, you will not
arrive a much if any knowledge beyond what you need in order to produce
the desired results. If you pursue a body of knowledge for its own sake
or because you just enjoy understanding, you would not stop when you
were able to produce something in particular, but would continue
seeking knowledge just because the area interested you. Then you would
be likely to obtain much more knowledge than you would if you only
wanted to achieve a certain practical result.
For example, if you study auto mechanics in order to repair some
specific problem in your car, you will learn what you need in order to
repair that problem (and perhaps, what to look for in potential further
problems.) But if you study auto mechanics because you are interested
in cars, you will continue studying long after you have learned how to
repair the problem with your car. You will learn about many kinds of
cars that you may never own, perhaps even about new kinds of cars that
have not been built yet. Because of your interest, you learn much more
than what is practically useful at the moment; and so you will be
considered more knowledgeable than one who has only learned what is
useful now. Plus, the body of knowledge you are learning - the
mechanics of real and theoretical cars - would be considered to offer
much greater understanding than knowledge of how to repair a problem in
one car.
B6. People often think, rightly or wrongly, that
some bodies of knowledge can and should be used to direct the use of
other bodies of knowledge. (The word Aristotle uses is archikoteron;
your text translates this as 'superior' but a better translation is
'fit to rule.') If there is a body of knowledge that is fit to direct
the use of other bodies of knowledge, the one that is fit to direct the
others really needs to include an understanding of the others.
Otherwise the one that is directing will not include an awareness of
what the others are capable of, and will be a poor director - not fit
to direct at all. Further, the one that is fit to direct should include
an understanding of the relations it has to the bodies of knowledge it
directs; and it should include an understanding of why, when, and how
each should be practiced in order to achieve certain results.
Aristotle's favorite example (in other works) of a body of
demonstrable knowledge that is thought to be fit to rule others is
"generalship" or "military science" - the understanding a military
general needs to have. A Greek general would need to know how to plan
and carry out effective military campaigns, with the smallest loss of
soldiers. For that he would need to know about the geography, climate,
history, and political situation of the area where he was to fight; he
would need to know something about psychology in order to motivate his
men and in order to negotiate with enemies and allies. He would also
need to understand something of the capabilities of all of the bodies
of knowledge that would be used in the battle: arrow-making (how far
can each kind of arrow go with accuracy? which kinds of arrow are best
in each situation? how fast can arrows be manufactured? etc.), archery
(where do archers need to stand? how much space do they need?),
horse-training, bridle-making, cooking (how much food is needed for the
troops? what kinds of food are available in each region?), medicine,
and so on.
Thus the general's knowledge must encompass several bodies of
knowledge. And the general's knowledge would be considered to be closer
to wisdom than, say, the arrow-maker's knowledge. This is because
arrow-makers do not need to know what makes a good military campaign,
or why a certain number of arrows are needed at a certain time; they
just need to know how to make arrows. But the general must know the
basics of what the arrow-makers know, plus why the arrow-makers' skill
needs to be deployed in a certain way at a certain time, plus many
other things.
Moreover, in order for a body of knowledge to be fit to direct the use
of other bodies of knowledge, it needs to include more than just how to
do things. Being fit to direct means being able to show why each of the
other bodies of knowledge should be used in a certain way at a certain
point; it means being able to show that the results sought are good.
This is why in the next paragraph Aristotle says that the body of
knowledge that is really fit to direct the use of others is the one
that can explain "that for the sake of which things are to be done."
C.
It turns out that based on these
opinions about wisdom and the wise person, each of the 6
characteristics mentioned in section A will belong fully only to the
person who has demonstrable knowledge concerning first causes and
principles.
So common opinions lead in the same direction as the
earlier argument. Further, only the demonstrable knowledge of first
causes and principles, or the person who has it (if this knowledge or
this person exists) will have all of the 6 characteristics. No
"science" that we are familiar with will impart all 6.
To see why, Aristotle examines each of the 6 characteristics:
A1. A person who understood first causes and
principles (the ultimate reasons and sources for things) would know
about all things, in the most general way possible. That is, such a
person would know the most basic reasons behind everything, would know
the basis of everything, and would know what kinds of relationships
each thing has to each other thing.
A2. First causes and principles are hard and not
easy for anyone to know, since this would be "farthest" from
sensations: first causes and principles would tell us what is at the
root of our sensations, and tell us the sources of the way the world
appears to us. Learning this would be difficult for everyone; it's not
just a matter of insight but also of hard work learning and
demonstrating the reasons behind things.
A3. One who knows first causes and principles will
be able to be more precise than those who don't, Aristotle holds. The
person who knows first causes and principles (if such a person exists)
would be able to show the roots of all differences and similarities
among things, which is what precision requires. Also, instead of having
to rely on several different kinds of explanation at once without
knowing how they fit together (as, say, modern psychologists might have
to rely on ideas from physics, biology, and psychotherapy, without
knowing how and why these are connected), the person who knows first
causes and principles would know the fundamental principles that
underlie and connect the different kinds of explanations we use.
Therefore the person who knows first causes and principles can apply
the explanations with more precision and accuracy.
A4. The more fundamental the causes one knows, the
more things one can explain, and the more one is capable of teaching.
The person who knows first causes and principles would know the most
fundamental causes and principles, those that explain all the other
causes and principles.
Here is an example: A person who can explain how respiration works in
humans knows some causes (for example, knows that blood circulation
causes the flow of oxygen into body cells and carbon dioxide and waste
out of them). But a person who knows the causes and principles of
respiration in all animals knows even more basic causes and principles
that explain not only human respiration but why animals with lungs
breathe one way and animals with gills (fish, for example) breathe
another way. A person who knows the causes and principles of
respiration in all living things (animals, plants, protozoa) will
understand the roles and functions of cells in a wider variety of
species, and will be able to explain the causes and principles that
differentiate one living thing's respiration from others'. A person who
knows first causes and principles will be able to explain all that plus
the causes of life itself, i.e. what makes a living thing a living
thing.
A5. The pursuit of knowledge "for its own sake or
for the sake of understanding" will not end when some particular
problem is solved, unless there are no why-questions left to be asked.
But short of knowledge of first causes and principles, there will
always be some why-questions left. So those who truly seek knowledge
for its own sake or for the sake of understanding must seek knowledge
of first causes and principles.
Aristotle says at this point that first causes and principles are what
is "most knowable." Clearly that does NOT mean they are most easily
knowable. Rather, he seems to mean that knowledge of them is most
purely knowledge, that is, knowledge not mixed with opinion or
conjecture. You don't fully have demonstrable knowledge of something,
he implies, if you don't understand why it is the way it is. And
knowledge of first causes and principles would be required in order for
you to be able to explain the complete "why." This suggests that
sometimes when we say we have demonstrable knowledge of something
without actually knowing first causes and principles, we have only
conditional knowledge at best.
A6. Finally, if there is a body of knowledge that
is fit to order the use of other bodies of knowledge, it will have to
include knowledge of appropriate purposes or goals ("that for the sake
of which each activity is to be done"), so that it can direct the
others well. If a body of knowledge simply accepted the status quo or
the current custom regarding what should be done under each set of
circumstances, that body of knowledge would not be fit for use in
directing the study and practice of other bodies of knowledge. Perhaps
what is accepted as best is not really so, and in order to be fit to
give directions one must have some understanding of what goals are
appropriate and why. The ultimate things or goals or ideas for whose
sakes actions should be undertaken are also fundamental causes. In
order to know what is best, one will have to understand human nature,
human possibilities, and the nature of the environment and the
universe, so as to come up with the best plan. (For example, if you
thought it would be a great idea to let all farmers plant whatever they
wanted whenever they wanted, the crops they chose might destroy the
soil if not rotated, or might encourage the reproduction of mice or
insects too much; eventually this would lead to famine in your
community.)
Thus the "science" of
first causes and principles fits in the strongest
way all of the 6 reputed characteristics of wisdom and the wise person.
And (if it exists) the "science" of first causes and principles is the
only body of knowledge that fits all 6, as we will see below. Moreover,
the "science" of first causes and principles is the only body of
knowledge that fully fits even one of the 6 characteristics. In fact,
we might ask whether any body of knowledge that is not knowledge of
first causes and principles is fully able to answer any why-question.
D.
According to Aristotle, none of the
"sciences" we are familiar with fits all of the characteristics people
say belong to wisdom or the wise person.
For example, we might at
first think that mathematics is a good
candidate for "wisdom," since it gives good general knowledge regarding
things that can be measured or counted - and that is many things
indeed. Modern natural and social sciences rely on mathematics to a
great degree. Mathematics is accurate; its most powerful theorems are
difficult for everyone to understand; it can be pursued for its own
sake - in fact, many of its most abstract ideas have no application in
any practical endeavor (at least, not yet). But mathematics does not
explain what is best and does not require understanding of other
sciences; and it does not even explain what makes something measurable
or countable and why. It does not explain physical causes, though it
helps describe them. Therefore, as powerful and beautiful and useful as
mathematics is, for Aristotle it does not fulfill the characteristics
associated with wisdom (though it may be a necessary ingredient in
wisdom, in combination with other things).
Then what about physics?
Surely physics
explains a much broader range of causes than mathematics. But physics
is not completely precise or accurate; some things physics studies
(electrons for example) cannot be measured or located exactly, and we
must use approximations. As far as we know, physics does not provide -
is not designed to provide - an account of the good. For the same
reasons, none of the other natural sciences, and none of the social
sciences that depend on quantitative data (where approximations and
interpretive ambiguities are common) will fit all 6 characteristics.
Psychology is not always
precise; in fact, not
everyone in the field agrees on the basic axioms from which to start.
Not everyone in the field agrees about what can be measured
(intelligence? creativity? empathy?) and what cannot. For these reasons
the explanatory capacity of psychology as we know it is ambiguous and
in dispute. Further, while psychology investigates what it is that
people think is good, it does not investigate whether there is any
"highest good in the whole of nature," whether there really is
something "for the sake of which things should be done," and if so,
what that thing is.
Indeed, none of
the bodies of demonstrable
knowledge discussed so far ask about the good as such. The field of
ethics, a branch of philosophy, does ask. The problem is that ethics as
we now know it would not count as a body of demonstrable knowledge;
rather, it is an ongoing investigation in search of knowledge. What we
have now in ethics is not precise; we do not always agree on what goals
should be, on how to describe a given action so as to assess it
properly, or on what kinds of things are right and what kinds of things
are wrong and why. In order for ethics to become a body of demonstrable
knowledge, we would have to come to an understanding of these basic
things first. (Recall Socrates' question to Euthyphro about the kinds
of things we disagree deeply about: can we agree on starting-points for
ethics in the way that we agree on basic axioms and definitions in
mathematics? If not, why not? And is there another way to come to such
basic principles?) Therefore ethics (also political theory) is not yet
able to offer conclusive explanations. Indeed, ethics and fundamental
studies of basic political and social principles have generally been
seen as parts of philosophy, which is the search for wisdom.
E.
At 981b10 Aristotle goes over some
things he says wisdom could not be: it could not be a science of making
things, or a science that is specifically oriented toward making
things. This of course fits with his earlier report that
people think
that wisdom is sought for its own sake or for the sake of understanding.
As he notes, it has always been because of wonder that people have
begun to seek wisdom as such. After all, people who must work
constantly just to obtain the necessities of life will not have the
time to spend seeking knowledge for its own sake or out of pure
curiosity. They can only afford to seek the knowledge that will enable
them to get what they need. (This is NOT to say that such people never
gain deep or complex learning, or that they do not find anything that
they do not need to know. It is only to say that they cannot afford to
seek systematically those kinds of knowledge that they do not need.)
Rather, it is in societies where the necessities are available and
where people have some free time that one finds philosophy and
myth-making; for these arise in an attempt to escape a sense of
ignorance. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the science of
wisdom is not sought because it produces something that we need in
order to survive; it is sought because those who pursue it think that
wisdom will be something we want, something that helps us flourish.
This is why Aristotle says that wisdom is the only "free" science, the
only science (body of demonstrable knowledge) that is "only for
itself": wisdom is not sought for the sake of mere survival, but to
make survival more worthwhile; it is pursued because people find it
interesting in itself; and it is not limited to the study of a
particular kind of thing - it studies everything.
F.
But humans are not completely
independent and free.
We can't spend all
our time seeking and
contemplating wisdom, for we have wants, needs, and duties we must take
care of. The poet Simonides said that only a god can have wisdom. And
poets often warned that gods could become jealous of humans who
acquired something (such as wisdom) that the gods wanted to keep for
themselves. For these reasons, Aristotle notes, a person might be
inclined to conclude that humans should give up the search for wisdom,
and seek only the knowledge or information we clearly can obtain.
But Aristotle thinks we
would be wrong to come to that conclusion.
First of all, he points out, the gods could not be jealous. Presumably
he is referring to the common belief that the gods are self-sufficient
and do not lack anything. (Thus the poets ought to explain why they can
contradict the beliefs they say they rely on!) One becomes jealous when
one believes that another has taken something that belongs to one, or
that should belong to one.
Yet
self-sufficient gods would not need
or want anything; they have it all. (As Socrates pointed out in the
Euthyphro, it would be very strange to say that the gods need anything
from us.)
Also, a body of knowledge
is something that can be shared without
diminishing anyone's stock of it. If we gained some knowledge, that
would not take any away from the gods.
Moreover, even if we did
gain some knowledge, it would not
necessarily enable us to do what the gods can do. So even if we gained
some knowledge, that would not diminish the gods' power, and it might
not increase ours. For the Greeks, knowledge was not necessarily power.
For example, if we learn where the stars are and how they form, that
does not enable us to make new stars. But Greek gods could make stars.
Thus there is no reason to
think that a god would punish a person who
sought wisdom. Plus, it is not even clear that we could ever get much
in the way of wisdom. So, Aristotle seems to think it is entirely
appropriate for a person to seek wisdom.
Perhaps what Aristotle is
bringing to our attention is that if we seek
wisdom as demonstrable knowledge of first causes and principles, the
poets (or whoever in our society is involved in myth-making and the
transmission of beliefs) will be jealous. For to search for a
demonstrable knowledge of first causes and principles is to stop
waiting for someone else's ideas, and to stop waiting for inspiration
about certain things, and to go and seek for yourself. The authority of
Greek poets and priests, and therefore the authority of those laws and
customs that were established by poets and priests as divine in origin,
is seriously challenged by the autonomous search for a science of first
causes and principles - a science anyone can learn to search for.
(Note: Your text sometimes prints the expression 'God,' and as you
know, the Greeks believed in many gods. What is happening is that
Aristotle has written 'ho theos,' which means 'the god' or 'the divine
being.' He may mean 'a god in general,' or 'that which is divine.'
There is no reason to suppose that he has in mind the single divine
being of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam; though what he says would
certainly fit that being.)
G. Why then would wisdom be called a
"divine science"?
A science would be divine, Aristotle says, if either
(a) it were the possession only of gods, or
(b) it had to do with divine matters,
or both.
The science of wisdom,
Aristotle says, should fulfill both criteria.
For this reason, it should be considered the most precious or most
worthy of honor - after all, the gods would have nothing but the best.
Indeed, only or mainly a god would have this sort of knowledge, because
the gods lack nothing. And, Aristotle says, people believe that a god
is a cause and a kind of principle (a reason and a kind of source): in
myths, gods are supposed to have made humans and natural phenomena,
dictated laws and customs, changed the universe, and so on.
Aristotle now says two
complex and somewhat subversive things.
First, he calls a god a cause and
a principle. To do this (which is not
in itself odd in ancient Greece) is to describe what the god does in
terms a human can understand and investigate. Aristotle is taking this
common idea further, for he is suggesting that what the gods have done
is a fit subject for human investigation - so that we do not have to be
satisfied with "The gods did it" as an explanation for anything, unless
we want to be satisfied with that. Now, the description of a divine
being as being thought to be a cause and a principle does not say
anything about whether gods exist, what they are like, etc. Rather,
this description simply allows us to investigate in any case.
Second, he notes that if we were to acquire wisdom, we would
be in a situation that is opposite to the one in which we
started. That is, we start our investigation in a state of
wonder, a
feeling of ignorance; and if our efforts to resolve this ignorance were
to result in wisdom, we would no longer be wondering or ignorant. That
is, we now feel wonder and astonishment at certain things. But if we
were to obtain wisdom we would not feel ignorant about the things we
feel ignorant about now; we'd be astonished (the word in Greek is the
same as the word for "in wonder") if things were different.
Aristotle makes some analogies: a person who does not know about the
solar system is astonished by the fact that there are different amounts
of daylight at different times during the year. He or she will wonder
why the amount of daylight changes, why there is a certain maximum (at
the summer solstice) and a certain minimum (at the winter solstice),
why the maximum and the minimum always occur at the same times each
year, and so on. But once the person learns about the solar system
(about the tilt of the earth on its axis and the movement of the earth
around the sun for us; about the movement of the sun around the earth
for the Greeks!), he or she will not wonder about these things.
Instead, he or she would be astonished if at some point things did not
work that way.
(Aristotle is well aware that knowledge of astronomy in his day was
incomplete and often conjectural. Recall that he has said that none of
the familiar bodies of knowledge are equivalent to wisdom. The
differences will be important here.)
Aristotle makes another analogy here that is very revealing. A person
who is ignorant about geometry, he says, will be astonished to hear
that the diagonal of a square cannot be precisely measured using the
same units that will precisely measure the sides of the square. That
is, the diagonal and the side are "incommensurable." This will seem
astonishing because after all, both the diagonal and the sides have
definite lengths. But take for example a square whose sides are 1 unit
long. The length of the diagonal will be equal to the square root of 2.
The square root of 2 is a non-repeating decimal whose precise numerical
value cannot be expressed, and so cannot be represented as a
determinate decimal or fraction. Now, one who knows geometry knows why
this will be so - within the confines of geometry. That is, the person
who knows geometry knows the Pythagorean Theorem, which identifies the
diagonal as the hypotenuse of a right triangle whose other sides are 2
sides of the square. The Pythagorean Theorem shows that the length of
the hypotenuse must be the square root of the sum of the squares of the
lengths of the other two sides. So for any square figure of side
= x, the length of the diagonal must be x times the square
root of 2. The person who knew geometry would be stunned to find a
square whose diagonal was commensurable with the side.
Therefore gaining wisdom will be similar to these kinds of learning:
our initial ignorance that led to our why-questions will be overcome if
we learn the answers to those why-questions, and we would be stunned if
anything appeared to be different from what our learning had shown us.
But gaining wisdom will also be different from learning geometry or
astronomy. For in geometry we do not learn why there are line segments
that are incommensurable with other line segments; we do not learn why
a way of measuring some things precisely makes us unable to measure
others precisely. We do not learn why or whether space is really that
way. And we also lack precision: we don't know the exact length of the
diagonal if we know the exact length of the side. Similarly, in
astronomy we don't know why gravity works and holds the solar system
together. But if we had wisdom, ALL of our why-questions would be
answered, even these questions. In that way wisdom is unlike geometry
or astronomy. If we had wisdom, we would be in a state quite opposite
to our current one, where we have lots of unanswered why-questions.
What would that be like? -- It would be so different from the way we
are now that we cannot be sure we can even imagine it correctly! But
that does not mean we should not seek wisdom; for Aristotle, it is a
reason to begin formulating the most fundamental questions, which he
will explore in the rest of the Metaphysics.