Tag: Gwenaëlle Aubry

The Universe

“From the first lines of Lambda 10, the question of the good and of its relations with the universe is explicitly posed: should the good and the best (to agathon kai to ariston) be conceived as something separate (kekhorismenon), existing in itself and by itself, or as the very order (taxin) of the whole?” (Aubry, Dieu san la puissance, 2nd ed., ch. 5, p. 200, my translation throughout).

“We know from now on that there exists a separate substance, that it is act and not form, that it is identical to the good, and that it acts as an end: from this, it is already apparent that the universe can be neither totalized via its reduction to a unique material principle, as the [Ionian] holists maintain, nor conceived [in the manner of the Platonists] in an episodic manner as a disjunctive series…. The universe indeed constitutes a totality, but this is not exclusive of an order that admits of degrees…. It remains to know whether the good is to be identified with this taxis or is separate from it” (pp. 200-201).

“But these options are not exclusive: the good can be conceived at once (amphoteros) as the very order of the universe and as separate from it, in the way that the good of an army resides in its order as well as in its strategy. It is nonetheless necessary to recognize between these two modes of the existence of the good a relation of anteriority, such that the order depends on the strategy, and not the strategy on the order” (p. 201).

“The problem is thus posed to know in what such an order consists, which is at the same time determined by the principle and serves as its manifestation. Already applied in Lambda 8 to the hierarchy of the spheres and their movers, the term taxis is from now on applied not only to the eternal sensible substances, but also to the perishable sensible substances (animals, plants)” (ibid).

“This order receives a triple characterization: first, it operates in a horizontal way between the different substances…; all these are then ordered in relation to something unique…; but finally, they are not so related in the same way…. We have indeed a relation at the same time univocal and diversified…. It tends nonetheless toward one same end, and proceeds from one same principle” (ibid).

“But we discover now that it is just insofar as [the unmoved substance] is separated that it is the principle of the order and of the distinctive movements of sensible substances…. And we can think the principle or the Good at once as separate and as constituting a taxis, an ordered and related totality” (pp. 202-203).

The universe is held together by the good or the ideal — a principle separate in both the Aristotelian and the Platonic sense, but acting only as a final cause or object of desire — and by the desires and aims of all beings — which in themselves indirectly also aim at the ideal. But nothing “enforces” the good or the ideal at a cosmic level. As a consequence, no evil in the world is cause for doubting the reality of ultimate good.

This concludes my direct treatment of Gwenaëlle Aubry’s detailed analysis of Aristotle in her second edition. When I first encountered her work, I was delighted to see someone vigorously arguing that the first cause is indeed just a final cause, and putting major emphasis on potentiality and act. In the course of working through this, I have improved my own understanding of numerous details. Her book has another 100 pages on what happens to all these issues in Plotinus, which I will pass over for now.

The Ideal

“The last two chapters of book Lambda adopt a new point of view toward the divine: the latter is no longer in the first instance considered as energeia [act], but as good” (Aubry, Dieu san la puissance, 2nd ed., ch. 5, p. 197, my translation throughout).

“The question of the good is nonetheless raised in an indirect way in Lambda 9, by means of an inquiry into nous, or intellect. Here again, the text inscribes itself in the continuity of Lambda 7, and in two ways: first, because the intelligible and the good are identified through the mediation of substance and energeia; then also because the god was described there not only as act, but as an activity of thinking, and as being at the same time the thought of the best, and this thought or contemplation was described as the best and most agreeable” (pp. 197-198).

“Lambda 9 precisely poses the question whether the value of thought comes from its object, or from its very exercise. The response to this question is conditioned by a double premise, which directly articulates the two determinations of ousia energeia [substance as act] and of ousia ariste [the best substance, or ideal substance]: noesis or intellection is the best ousia, he ariste ousia; and as such, it cannot be dunamis. It can have no other object than itself, which would determine its activity of thinking and thus be superior to it; and in the same way, if it were dunamis and not energeia, maintaining the continuity of the activity would be hard. Finally, if it thought of an object other than itself, then it could equally well think different objects, not only the good but ‘something taken randomly'” (p. 198).

“As result, the two initial hypotheses must be eliminated: the value of thought cannot be derived from its object (at least, if the latter is exterior to it, and if it depends on it to be in-act). But no more than this can it be derived only from its activity, taken independently of its object: for thought and the activity of thought also pertain to the one who thinks the worst. If the value of thought can be derived neither from an (exterior) object, nor only from thought’s activity, it is then necessary to say that thought has value not due to what it thinks, but because in itself it thinks. Thus the prime mover ‘thinks itself, if it is true that it is the most excellent, and its thinking is thinking of thinking'” (ibid, emphasis added).

Thinking of thinking, or contemplation, can also be characterized as reflection. I would suggest that what more specifically makes thought thinking itself the best substance is its character of pure reflection. I think that intelligence is fundamentally reflective — a matter not of unexplainable direct apprehension, but of the elaboration of mediation, or of repeated refoldings of a self-referential thread. To be reflective for a human is also among other things to be indefinitely inclusive of new perspectives, while aiming to combine them in a unity of apperception. In the case of the first cause, this unity would be under the modality of always-already.

“But this again leaves open two possibilities: once we have excluded that the value of thought comes only from its own activity, or from an exterior object, we can again ask whether it comes from an object that is immanent to it, or from the very immanence of this object; in other words, does thought think itself because it is the best, or is it the best because it thinks itself? This is the sense of the question posed: ‘And again, if thinking and being thought are two different things, in virtue of which of these two terms does the good (to eu) belong to thought?” (pp. 198-199).

“The response consists in showing that in certain cases, which do not only concern the divine intellect, there is an identity between knowledge and its object — thus we respond to the objection… according to which the knowledge of self is only a parergon, a supplement or an accidental effect, of the knowledge of the object. This identity applies in the case of the practical sciences when they treat of an essence considered as independent of matter, and for the theoretical sciences or intellection, [this identity of knowledge and the known] is itself their object. It remains to know whether this object is indivisible or composed. The response proceeds by way of a new comparison, this time between the human intellect and the divine intellect” (p. 199).

“The passage admits an ethical reading: it is a matter of saying that the human intellect, insofar as it is the thought of composed beings (of matter and form, or of in-potentiality and act), does not have an immediate access to the good, to eu, but only attains the best, to ariston, in time, and as a being different from itself, on allo ti” (ibid).

“In effect it inherits from a decisive premise, which is that nous [intellect] is ousia ariste, the best substance. This proposition is supported in Lambda 7 by the identification of the intelligible, the good, and substance…. This premise, like the resurgence of the notions of the good and the best in the last lines of chapter 9, goes in the direction of an objective, and indeed also ethical, or more so axiological, reading of the text. Certainly thought is of nothing but itself; but if it thinks itself, this is because it is identical with the good” (p. 200).

Next in this series: The Universe

Eternal Sensibles

Metaphysics Lambda chapter 8 returns to a consideration of astronomical entities as eternal sensible substances. While this “appears to be an insertion of physics (or of astronomy) into the metaphysical discourse” (Dieu san la puissance, 2nd ed., ch. 5, p. 194, my translation throughout), Aubry sees it as fulfilling part of the program laid out in Lambda 1 for a unified account of the principles of all substance.

“Thoroughly interrogating [the principle’s] relation to the other substances allows the efficacity of the act without power to be shown” (p. 195).

Modern people are not generally used to thinking of the causality of a substance in relation to another substance. We are taught to approach causality in terms of events leading to other events, or to states of affairs. Aristotle on the other hand is less concerned with explaining particular events or states of affairs than with the much more general and multifarious question of why things are the way they are. He argues that “substance” (ousia) and final causality play the pivotal role in any account of the way things are.

Aristotelian substance is far from being simply the “kingdom of nouns”. For Aristotle no more than for Kant is the what-it-is of things a simple primitive that is just given to us. The “identities” of things are consequences of an involved process, and not a starting point. A substance is explained by its characteristic act, which can be further explained as aiming at a kind of entelechy. These can only be discovered by indirect means, through thoughtful interpretation.

“First, it is a matter of establishing against the Platonists that the principle is a cause, that it has efficacy, and in particular is able to explain the movements of the different substances, of which the theory of Ideas had failed to give an account…. Secondly, it is a matter of identifying the causality proper to the Good, while showing that the Good acts, not insofar as it has a dunamis, as suggested by the formula of Republic book VI, but insofar as it is energeia…. Finally, and this time against the Platonic episodism, it is a matter of marking not only that the Good is efficacious insofar as it has no power, but also that the separate substance is not disjoint from the other substances, though it has a primacy over them: or better, separation if it is conceived as being that of act and no longer that of form, determines the ordering, the very taxis of the ensemble of mobile substances” (ibid).

I am fascinated by this suggestion that the separate first substance is “not disjoint from the other substances”, and that “separation” is also a connecting link. Aristotle wants to emphasize the extent to which the astronomical substances are connected to the first cause by the nature of their ordering. Lambda 10 will extend this to earthly substances.

(We have seen the enumerated criticisms of Platonism before. While agreeing that Aristotle’s formulations in these areas represent a major advance, I also continue to find great value in many of Plato’s other insights.)

“It falls to Lambda 8 to show, against the Platonists, that if we conceive the principles and the separate substances as acts and not as Forms, we can give a complete and precise account of movement: not only that of the sphere of the fixed stars, but also those of the other spheres and planets” (p. 196).

The connection between astronomy and first philosophy that Aristotle works so hard to establish strikes me as poetically beautiful, but I don’t know what to do with it philosophically, except in the very broad sense that astronomical phenomena do affect earthly things, and represent a more inclusive cosmic whole of which our earth is but a part. I am personally inclined to de-emphasize this aspect in favor of his other characterizations of the first cause as the good, and as thought thinking itself. But on the other hand, his idea that the first cause moves other things as a final cause but not as a direct agent seems extraordinarily well argued, and incredibly fruitful and auspicious.

“But now is posed the problem of the relation between the unmoved prime mover and the others. These are ordered according to a hierarchy (taxis) , which follows that of the celestial movements. It appears nonetheless that this hierarchy is also ontological: unlike the first among them, which Lambda 7 had ended by identifying with god, the other unmoved movers are neither characterized in Lambda 8 as pure energeia, nor as identical with the first intelligible and with the best. Of them, it is said that they are immutable and eternal, but also impassible, and that ‘they have on their own attained the supreme good’…. This is insofar as they are ends, telos. Thus, unlike the prime mover, the others are not ends insofar as they are already themselves the good, but insofar as they have attained the good” (ibid, emphasis in original).

“But since it is said of them that they have attained the good, we can suppose that they have been in movement, and indeed that they have been in-potentiality: if the prime mover is always already an act without power, we can suppose that they are powers fully actualized and stabilized in their end” (p. 197).

This is an ingenious solution, within the context of Aristotle’s desire to link astronomy to first philosophy.

Next in this series: The Ideal

Ideal Life and Ours

We are halfway through Aubry’s discussion of Metaphysics book Lambda, chapter 7. From this point, she says that the text becomes less of an argument, and more rhetorical and descriptive. Aristotle compares the “way of life” (diagoge) of the divine with “ours”. His discussion here largely follows the much more developed one in book X of the Nicomachean Ethics. Toward the end of Aubry’s section, she also critically scrutinizes the more particular basis of claims that the first cause of book Lambda is not only a final cause but also an efficient cause.

(Though it is much longer than this post, for greater insight and a fuller context on Aristotle’s view of this relation between the human and the divine, I would highly recommend reviewing Ethics book X in The Goal of Human Life.)

Now “it is no longer only a question of movable and perishable substances, but more concretely, and for the first time, of the human subject” (Dieu san la puissance, 2nd ed., ch. 5, p. 189, my translation throughout).

“From the outset, the divine diagoge is characterized by comparison with the human condition, as being ‘like the best’ that is given to us, but also by opposition to it, since what is accessible to us ‘for a brief period of time’, mikron khronon, is for god continuously, aei [always]. The same opposition is found below, between the happy state god enjoys always, aei, but we enjoy only sometimes, pote” (ibid).

She quotes Aristotle, “The [divine] act is pleasure” (ibid). Plato in the Philebus suggests that the divine has a neutral state, but for Aristotle “god is the only living thing that at the same time has access to the most pure pleasure and always knows its enjoyment. If the human also has access to the pleasure of contemplation, she does not know it in a continuous enjoyment, for she is composed of two natures such that each for the other is against nature” (p. 190).

If I may be allowed a shallow comparison, this theme of divine pleasure makes me liken the condition of thought thinking itself to that of a blissful Buddha.

“In book VII of the Nicomachean Ethics, the continuity of divine pleasure is referred to the simplicity of the divine nature which, because nothing is mixed with it or hinders it, always exercises the same activity and finds in it a complete pleasure. The text of Lambda itself is content to associate pleasure and energeia. And where one might expect an exploration of the contrast between the transience of human pleasure and the perpetuity of divine pleasure, the next proposition proceeds on the contrary to underline their similarity. More precisely, the fact that the divine act is pleasure is given as the cause (dia touto [through this]) of the fact that for us every act is pleasure, whether it is a matter of walking, of sensation, or of thinking” (ibid, emphasis in original).

“We can see here a first illustration of the mode of action of the unmoved final cause as it has been determined above: we have immanent ends and aim at our own acts; it remains that through the latter, we also aim at the continuity and indeed the pleasure that attach par excellence to the divine act” (ibid).

“The following lines do no more than deploy the identity between act and pleasure, in formulating the conditions that make a certain act (thought or contemplation) pleasant. That the divine act indeed consists in thought is presupposed (or simply induced from the pleasant character of contemplation for us): above, the god has been assimilated to the intelligible, or to the noeton, but not to thought, noesis. For the act of thought to be pleasure, it is necessary that it be in-act, that is to say that intelligence is in effective possession of the intelligible” (pp. 190-191, emphasis in original).

“[T]hought in itself is thought of the best in itself, from which we deduce that the divine theoria [contemplation] is not only more agreeable, ediston, but also the best, ariston” (p. 191).

(Here again we are reminded how extremely different this is from modern notions of thought as “value free”, which seems to assume that all values are prejudices. We do not have to suppress questions of value in order to be fair and objective. Objectivity and fairness in the real world involve openness, but not a completely relativistic free-for-all. Fairness and objectivity are themselves values.)

“After the identity between act and pleasure, we pose that between act and life, zoe. This time, it is nonetheless clear that this identity only applies to one particular act: that of intelligence. It seems on the other hand that it applies to every act of intelligence, whether it be human or divine. Of the divine act, insofar as it is energeia kath autein [act directed toward itself], we say nonetheless that it is not simply life, but ‘the best life, and eternal'” (p. 191).

I was a little surprised that she says only the act of intelligence is to be identified with life. But she does not say that only the act of intelligence presupposes life, but rather that it is the only one to be strictly identified with it. Life for Aristotle is not reducible to some bare fact like a heartbeat; it involves purpose, and the best realization of purposes involves intelligence. That this applies to the human is no surprise. And if we accept that there is meaningful sense to thought eternally thinking itself, it is also no surprise that for Aristotle this would be the best life.

“It appears nonetheless that in the passage, [energeia] no longer designates a way of being but a way of acting: we no longer say that god is in act, but that god has an act. If this distinction between act and activity is at work, the text nonetheless invites us to surpass it: the activity of god in effect comes down to its character of being in-act. Thus, if god’s activity is thought, and self-thinking, this is, as Lambda 9 will make precise, because god is the good; and if the act is continuous, this is because as act without power, god is without movement or change. The notion of life, zoe, intervenes precisely at the junction of the ontological sense and the practical sense of energeia, serving thus to name the activity of that which is act by itself” (ibid, emphasis in original).

“More decisive seems to be the reiterated distinction between the continuous activity of being in-act, and the discontinuous activity of beings mixed from act and in-potentiality. The latter (or, at least, ‘we’) have access to an activity of the same nature as that of the divine: thought, pleasure, and life. What makes the difference between the theos and ‘us’, is indeed not the nature of the activity, but its duration (continuous/discontinuous) and its value (the activity of god is the best, and indeed also the most pleasant” (ibid).

“This characterization initiates the transition from the ontological approach to the prime mover, governed by the notion of energeia, to [Aristotle’s] axiological approach, governed by the notion of the good, which energeia in its most determinate sense nonetheless also includes. Against the Pythagoreans and [Plato’s successor] Speusippus, we thus repeat that the best and the most beautiful are arkhe [principles or sources]” (p. 192).

“From here the question is posed whether dunamis, more than a mode of being, designates here a mode of action: indeed whether the final cause must also be conceived as an efficient cause. The fact is that we have seen that the schema of efficiency, such as it is expounded notably in On Generation and Corruption, presupposes that the agent is in-act. Further, this schema is extended so as to be applicable to impassible and incorruptible realities: in their case, there can be action without reciprocal contact (they touch without being touched, move [other things] without being moved); and insofar as they are without matter, they are not affected by the action they exercise (the medical art heals without being healed)” (p. 193).

“According to this enlarged model, efficiency — and indeed also the dunamis poietike [power to do or make] seems to be compatible with actuality, but also with immobility, immateriality, and impassibility. The question nonetheless remains whether it is also compatible with the final cause” (ibid).

Previously, she pointed out that book VIII of the Physics does once apply the phrase dynamis apeiron [unlimited power] to the prime mover. This is indeed the passage appealed to by those who want to make the prime mover an efficient cause. The basis for this appeal is that Lambda 7 does briefly recall the argument of Physics VIII that the prime mover is without magnitude or parts.

But she has explained that in Physics VIII, what she calls the ontological sense of dynamis is completely missing, and the context is a long polemic against the Platonic notion of self-motion. Along with the fact that any reference to unlimited power is completely absent from the Metaphysics, and that the “unlimited” power of the prime mover in Physics VIII is not said to be unlimited in all respects but only in relation to time, she argues that this in no way intended to undo Aristotle’s many consistent affirmations that the first cause is pure act without power. This seems entirely reasonable to me.

“That the prime mover is a final cause, [the first half of] Lambda 7 has clearly established. To this must be added that the ontological sense of dunamis and energeia mobilized by the argument of Lambda 6 implies not only… that energeia is anterior to dunamis, but that it is anterior as end” (ibid, emphasis in original).

“Otherwise said… the final character of the causality of the prime mover is already posed, even in ontology, via the exploration carried out in Theta 8 of the asymmetrical relation between energeia and dunamis. As a result, the problem is not whether the prime mover is an efficient cause more than a final cause, but whether it can even be an efficient cause at the same time as it is a final cause. For on this point On Generation and Corruption is explicit: ‘to d’ou heneka ou poietikon‘, ‘the final cause is not efficient’. Thus ‘health is not efficient, except in a metaphorical sense’, that is to say in the sense in which, insofar as it is an end, it sets off an action that aims at it, but in which it is not itself the agent (it is not health that cures, but the medicine or the remedy). In the same way, we can say of the end that it moves [other things]; but we must not confuse that which moves [other things], kinoun, with that which does, poiein, or with the efficient cause as principle of movement, arkhe kineseos: if it is true that the efficient is also a mover, it is not true that every mover is efficient” (pp. 193-194, emphasis in original).

For this last, she cites On Generation and Corruption again.

“In the same way that the ontological sense of dunamis is incompatible with the characterization of the prime mover as pure energeia, its kinetic sense is incompatible with its characterization as a final cause” (p. 194).

Next in this series: Eternal Sensibles

Ousia Energeia

Aristotle’s Metaphysics is arguably the single most important text in the history of philosophy, but even though on one level Aristotle’s writing is extremely clear and lucid, its deeper implications have been highly disputed. The great Iranian philosopher Avicenna is reported to have said that he read the Arabic translation of the Metaphysics 40 times without understanding it, and only began to understand after reading the commentary by Alfarabi. We are nearing the end of a long journey following what I think is a brilliantly innovative 21st century reading by Gwenaëlle Aubry. Here I’m covering the first half of her discussion of book Lambda chapter 7.

The title of this post is a phrase used by Aristotle to characterize the first cause. He distinguishes it as the ousia [“substance”] that, unlike other substances, simply “is” energeia [“act”]. The latter Greek term was coined by Aristotle, and the former was “substantially” redefined by him. I find it is best to put aside ordinary connotations of the English words for key philosophical terms like this (including “first cause”) — and to focus instead on the ways the philosopher himself uses them, along with what he says about them.

“Chapter 7 of book Lambda responds to the question, left in suspense, of the mode of relation of the first mover to the moved, and of the nature of its action. At the same time it exploits and deploys the ontological signification of energeia, designating in act the mode of being of the separate, and identifying it with the good and the end” (Aubry, Dieu san la puissance, 2nd ed., ch. 5, p. 184, emphasis added, my translation throughout).

“In so doing, it implies at the same time a distinction, absent from book Theta, between kinesis [motion] and energeia, the last being designated as the mode of being of the unmoved, even while maintaining a broad sense of energeia, understood not only as act and as a mode of being, but also as a certain activity (contemplation)” (ibid).

Aubry previously noted that Aristotle’s earliest use of energeia seems to have been in an ethical context. Here she points out that Aristotle is distinguishing between its better known physical sense (which already has a teleological element) and what she calls its ontological sense.

“The first lines of Lambda 7 mark a progress in relation to chapter 6, since they demonstrate not only the necessity of posing a principle that is act and not power in order to give an account of eternal motion, but also of that of thinking the first mover as unmoved” (ibid, emphasis added).

Within the context of Greek philosophy, the very idea of an unmoved mover is another extremely important Aristotelian invention. Plato speaks instead of a self-moving thing, thus postulating motion as an unexplained primitive attributed to something as a whole. He is not bothered by the unexplained primitive, because he sees becoming as fundamentally lacking intelligibility. For Aristotle on the other hand, motion ought to be explainable, and every explanation of motion also involves a passivity. To move in the colloquial English sense is always to be moved in Aristotle’s sense, by something, and we can give an account of this. It will turn out that the primary examples he gives of “movers” are the unmoved intelligible and desired things that serve to activate internal principles of motion in other things. But living beings such as animals also function as “moved movers”.

Aubry quotes Aristotle’s characterization of an unmoved mover as “being at the same time ousia and energeia” (p. 185). Aristotle makes a very compressed reference to his critique of Platonic “self-moving” in Physics book VIII. Anything we broadly call a “self” mover must be a moved mover, because it is implicitly moved by what it understands and desires. Any moved mover — and hence any self-mover — must be only an intermediary cause, and not an ultimate principle. Aristotle wants to very emphatically insist that the first cause is in the strict sense an unmoved mover, and not a self-mover in the broad sense that an animal is a self-mover. For him, any holistic “self-motion” necessarily involves the kind of mixture of activity and passivity that we attribute to an animal. Such a mixture is incompatible with the nature of the first cause.

“[I]t is because energeia is conceived here as ousia, and no longer as kinesis, that the first mover is unmoved” (ibid).

“This poses the question of how the unmoved can be the principle of movement. The demonstration this time proceeds in an indirect way: it consists in the premise according to which the desirable and the intelligible move [other things] without being moved, then in successive identifications, first of the real good with the desirable, then of simple and actual substance with the first intelligible, and finally of the first intelligible with the good. We then ought to conclude that the actual substance, itself already identified with the first mover, is identical with the intelligible and the good, and as such can move [other things] without being moved” (ibid).

She goes on to note that what allows these terms to be unified is really once again energeia, although at first it seems to be substance. This makes perfect sense, given the conclusions of book Eta.

“The unifying term of these identifications seems here to be that of substance. It is so nonetheless by the mediation of a double relation of anteriority: of substance itself, first of all, in the series of positive contraries; then, within substance, of substance that is simple and in act, haplo kai kat’energeian — or, more precisely, of substance that is simple insofar as it is said according to act. For it is this position of the preeminence of substance in the context of the series of intelligibles that justifies its identification not only with the good and the desirable, but with the better or that which is analogous to it. Thus it is once again the notion of energeia more than that of substance that appears as the conceptual mover of the demonstration, and as that from which the attributes of the principle can be deduced” (pp. 185-186, emphasis in original).

Just as Aristotle uses ousia or substance to explain our talk about being, he uses energeia or act to explain our talk about substance. And sometimes he even uses entelekheia or entelechy to explain our talk about act.

“Up to this point, Lambda 7 has established that the unmoved can be a mover, but not how it moves something else. Here again, the demonstration proceeds in an indirect way: it begins by establishing that there is also a final cause among unmoved things. In order to do this, we have to make precise what we mean by ‘final cause'” (p. 186).

“The text at this point poses a problem. Since antiquity, it has been reconstructed so as to coincide with parallel passages in Physics II and On the Soul II which, also relying on a pronominal distinction, distinguish between two senses of the final cause, that is to say to ou and to o, that which is envisaged and that for which something is — or, according to the traditional interpretation, the end of an action and its beneficiary. But neither of the senses thus distinguished can apply to the first mover: the latter cannot be conceived as the beneficiary of action, which would imply that it did not have its end in itself, and would thus be incompatible with its status as pure energeia. But it is equally difficult to conceive it as the end envisaged by action, since this would imply that the movement ends in it, or finds in it its term: the first mover would thus be the act and the end of eternal motion, and indeed of every moved being; thus conceived, the divine would be in sum the act of the world, or at least of the moved substances that make it up, whose separate existence would be explained only by the failure of their fusion with it” (pp. 186-187).

“The context of the distinction in On the Soul is nonetheless very close to that of the distinction of Lambda 7, since the text opposes on the one hand living things (plants and animals) considered as substances subject to the cycle of generation and corruption, and on the other hand the eternal and the divine…. Nonetheless, it does not aim to distinguish between an unmoved end and an end presupposing movement, but rather between an immediate and immanent end and a mediate and transcendent end. The first is identified with the soul, designated as being at the same time cause of motion, essence, and final cause…. The second is identified not with the divine itself, but with participation and community (koinonia) with it, and a community envisaged as continuous. Thus is explained the process of generation, which compensates for that of corruption: not being able to [persist indefinitely] as individuals, living things [persist] not in their numerical unity, but in the unity of their species. The object of their desire is thus not to be god but to participate in the divine, or in the mode of being that characterizes continuity and eternity. Or again, it is not to assimilate themselves to the divine form or the divine act, but rather to perpetuate their own form and act, in the way that the divine continually maintains its own” (p. 187, emphasis in original).

“But if read this way, as a distinction not between the end of action and its beneficiary, but between two kinds of end, the distinction in On the Soul seems reconcilable with that of Lambda 7, and to apply to the first unmoved mover: the latter should be understood neither as the immediate end of action nor as the one who attains that end, but as that which the moved substances aim at through their own proper ends” (pp. 187-188, emphasis added).

“The latter aim at no other end than themselves, and attain this immanent end by means of the different movements to which they are submitted, but through this end they aim also at the eternity and the necessity characteristic of the unmoved substance. As result, we can say that they are also moved by the unmoved, and again by the desire for unmovedness. We see that this interpretation agrees with the end of Lambda 7, as well as with Lambda 10’s reflection on the final cause and the good” (p. 188, emphasis added).

“The remainder of [Lambda 7] goes on precisely to mark the relation between unmovedness and necessity, at the same time as that between motion (even local) and contingency. This last point is the same that Theta 8 already underlined, but the demonstration relies no longer on the notion of dunamis understood as the power of contradiction, and indeed as the power to be or not-be, but on the notion of energeia. Unmovedness is deduced from this, and necessity in its turn from unmovedness. Here indeed, and for the first time, the ontological sense of energeia… excludes kinesis” (ibid).

She notes that Aristotle uses the grammatically dative from of energeia in the text here, which she has argued he consistently uses to distinguish what she calls the ontological sense of dynamis and energeia from their physical sense that is involved in the ordinary explanation of motion.

(I would add that this philosophical primacy of the dative form over the nominative in Aristotle is closely related to a perspective that puts adverbial phrases and relations ahead of nouns and verbs in the order of explanation. In fact, every noun or verb taken by itself is just a simple linguistic token that still has to be given an interpretation. No mere linguistic token by itself explains anything at all. By contrast, it is the non-simple character of relations — the fact that they already intrinsically “say something” about something — that gives them their fundamental role in interpretation and explanation.)

“If it is thus established that the unmoved can be an end…, it remains to know how it is, or to identify its proper mode of action, which is presented as valid for all final causes that exclude motion. Two words suffice to name this mode of action: hos eromenon [as being loved]. The hos does not introduce a metaphor, … but must be understood in the sense of ‘insofar as’: the unmoved mover moves without being moved, but ‘insofar as it is loved’. In its turn, the theme of eros has been prepared by the earlier reflection on the identity of the intelligible and the desirable, where it was said already that they move [other things] without being moved” (ibid).

“For the technical register that distinguishes between different species of desire, rational and irrational, is here substituted a broader term, eromenon. This term also has Platonic resonances: it evokes the amorous ascension of the Symposium, and recalls the figure of Eros, the daimon child of Penia and Poros, in whom are conjoined lack and abundance, absence and presence. Evoking Eros, nonetheless, Plato in the Symposium speaks of dunamis. Here, inversely, the erotic ascension has for its principle energeia. We see again in this point the rupture underlined in book capital Alpha, as in Lambda 6: to conceive the causality proper to the good, it is necessary to think it as a final cause, acting not as power but as act, and as the end of in-potentiality” (p. 189).

Aubry has consistently maintained that acting in the sense of having an effect is not reducible to the “action” of a power. All ordinary “action” is in reality a mixed form — an interaction — that includes an element of passivity. Pure act on the other hand is supposed to have an effect and to move other things, but without itself being involved in passivity. There is still an element of passivity in this case, but it is entirely on the side of the other things that are moved by what they understand and desire. Pure act for Aristotle is situated beyond the correlation of activity and passivity. Only where in-potentiality is also involved is there the ordinary interaction of activity and passivity that we experience in earthly happenings.

Rather than aiming to think pure presence, in the context of a human being even Plato is far more interested in mixed forms, as Paul Ricoeur has pointed out. Aristotle here takes up the Platonic theme of eros, while recasting it as an ascent toward pure act. But pure act is precisely not ever purely present to us. In the next post, we’ll see how Aristotle contrasts human life with the ideal life he attributes to the first cause.

Next in this series: Ideal Life and Ours

Eternal Motion

Chapter 6 of book Lambda of Aristotle’s Metaphysics takes chapter 5’s unification of eternal and corruptible sensible substance as a starting point, and now inquires into the relation between sensible, movable substance as a whole and unmoved substance. We’ve been following the detailed development of Gwenaëlle Aubry’s provocative non-traditional interpretation of the distinctive features of Aristotle’s account.

“The simple and necessary substance is not needed in order to give an account of the substances that, insofar as they are mixed from act and in-potentiality, can either be or not be, but in order to give an account of movement insofar as it cannot not be. The first question for Aristotle is not ‘why is there being?’ but ‘why is there movement?’, or, more precisely, ‘why is there always movement?'” (Aubry, Dieu san la puissance, 2nd ed., ch. 5, p. 178, emphasis added, my translation throughout).

“Whereas the theology of omnipotence is a response to the question of the emergence of being, the theology of pure act in effect is a response to the question of the eternity of movement. The god of Aristotle thus provides a reason for the most manifest, for the most evident. It is not the ground — or the bottomlessness — of the mystery of being, more mysterious than the being it serves to explain, but the reason of the most immediate, most apparent phenomenon. Movement, in effect, is the first given” (ibid).

“[A]mong the different species of movement, the priority comes back to local movement. The latter is indeed anterior to genesis: ‘It is impossible that generation should be first’. Generation is only first in the order of the individual, since the latter must exist in order to move. But in order for it to come into being, it is necessary for another being to have preexisted it which was in movement, and the same for this last. Thus it is not movement that comes to be, but coming to be that presupposes an antecedent movement and being” (pp. 178-179, emphasis in original).

She quotes from Generation and Corruption book II chapter 10, “For it is far more reasonable that what is should cause the coming-to-be of what is not, than that what is not should cause the being of what is. Now that which is being moved is, but that which is coming-to-be is not: hence motion is prior to coming-to-be” (Collected Works, Barnes ed., vol. 1, p. 550, emphasis in original).

“There is no first instant of movement. Movement cannot not have always been” (Aubry, p. 179). She notes that the Metaphysics does not contain the demonstration of this. Aristotle’s actual demonstration of the eternity of movement occurs in book VIII of the Physics, and basically consists in adding an indefinite regress to arguments like those we have just seen.

“Lambda 6 in effect establishes that the principle of such a movement must be not power but act. We have already seen Aristotle’s insistence here on underlining, as in book capital Alpha, the originality of such a thought of the principle. The argument works in a regressive way, establishing successively that the principle of eternal movement cannot be conceived as a power (dunamis), not even as an active or acting power, but must be such that its very substance is act, he ousia energeia. Its stages, let us recall, are the following:”

“–to give an account of movement, it is not sufficient to assert a moving or efficient (kinetikon e poietikon) capacity, if it does not act (me energoun); for it is possible to have a power without acting (endekhetai gar to dunamin ekhon me energein)”

“–nonetheless, even supposing that the principle acts (ei energesei), we cannot give an account of eternal movement if its ousia is dunamis. In effect, if that which has a power has the possibility of not acting, that which is in-potentiality has the possibility of not being (endekhetai gar to dunamei on me einai)”

“–it follows therefore that there is a principle such that its ousia is act, he ousia energeia” (p. 180).

She notes the striking parallelism of Aristotle’s phrases, but also finds a progression between the two formulae, corresponding to a transition between the “kinetic” and “ontological” senses of dynamis that she has often remarked upon.

“As with that from power to in-potentiality, the transition is thus effectuated from action to act: the principle of eternal movement must be conceived not only as an always active and acting power, but as an act. The argument relies only on the ontological sense of [pure] energeia, understood as that mode of being which is subtracted from the possibility of non-being” (p. 181).

“Ultimately we find posed as the condition of eternal movement, a being of which the ousia is energeia. But to say this is also to say, as the two moments of the demonstration underline, that from this substance is excluded every form of power: as much active power as in-potentiality. Thus — and it is again necessary to underline the force, and the paradox, of such a thesis: the very condition of the efficacity of the principle resides in its absence of power. It is not because it is all-powerful or fully active, but indeed because it is fully act that it is maximally efficacious, since it is the principle of eternal movement” (ibid, emphasis in original).

“That the principle (or principles) of eternal movement are act is deduced again from two necessary properties: eternity and immateriality. We verify equally the claim of Lambda 5: act serves to name not only (as Theta 8 established) the mode of being of the necessary and the eternal, but also that of form or the immaterial” (p. 183).

She goes on to contrast this argument with the more limited concerns of Aristotle’s demonstration of the need for an unmoved mover in the Physics.

“Decisive for the demonstration of Lambda 6, the ontological sense is on the other hand absent from that of Physics VIII. The latter utilizes not the schema of finality and the correlation of in-potentiality and act, but that of efficiency and of the correlation of powers…. [T]he text of Physics VIII considers at length the Platonic hypothesis according to which the first principle can be a self-mover. It is concerned to demonstrate that even a self-mover must have a mover and a moved, and finally to establish that at the origin of change there must be an unmoved mover. But the relation of the unmoved mover to that which it moves is thought on the model of efficiency…. The hypothesis, foundational for Lambda 6, of an unactualized power, or a power that is able to not act, is not envisaged. The action of the mover on the moved is described [in Physics VIII] as that of a mechanical force, working by contact with the first moved thing” (ibid).

In Physics VIII, Aristotle even speaks of a temporally infinite power (dynamis apeiros) behind what is commonly translated as “eternal” movement. In Aubry’ s paraphrase, “But an infinite power cannot reside in a finite body, so the first mover must be thought as being indivisible, without parts, and without magnitude” (p. 184).

Physics VIII is after all concerned with the roots of ordinary physical motion, so it is reasonable that it focuses on the “kinetic” sense of dynamis. It does seem that Metaphysics Lambda refers to Physics VIII’s demonstration of the need for an unmoved mover, so it is reasonable to assume that Lambda represents a later development.

It should not be surprising that Lambda, from a different and later point of view, makes new arguments about the first cause that are not in Physics VIII, and corrects some statements of the latter on its nature. Aubry does not comment on this discrepancy, but is content to do her due diligence in pointing it out. We saw earlier, however, that in Physics III Aristotle does also subordinate the kinetic sense of dynamis to what she calls the ontological one of in-potentiality.

Next in this series: Ousia Energeia

Principles of Substance

“Chapter 5 of book Lambda constitutes a veritable pivot, not in the sense that, as the traditional reading would have it, it would bring to a close a hypothetical first part, or a treatise on sensible substances, in order to introduce a second part, or a treatise on separate substance, but because on the contrary it enunciates the principle of their continuity” (Aubry, Dieu san la puissance, 2nd ed., ch. 5, p. 173, my translation throughout).

“It is indeed in Lambda 5 that it is necessary to seek the key to the unity of book Lambda, and thereby of metaphysics, understood, according to the minimal definition suggested by Lambda 1, as a science distinct from both physics and theology; but equally, and this time against the onto-theological understanding of it, as a science that is not scissionable between a science of common being and a science of the first being — or this time between ontology and theology” (pp. 173-174).

“Lambda 5 in effect contains responses to two of the fundamental questions of Lambda 1, that is to say that of the nature of what is separate, and that of the unity of the principles of sensible substance. These responses are made possible by the results, both positive and negative, of the inquiries conducted in Lambda 2 through 4: the extension of dunamis to the eternal sensibles (Lambda 2); the exclusion of separate Forms (Lambda 3); the distinction between principle and element (Lambda 4). And they have one same term in common: that of energeia. Lambda 5 states in effect at the same time that dunamis and energeia are the common principles of all substances by analogy, and that the separate must be conceived as energeia and not as form. Proceeding from this, it remains for the following chapters, Lambda 6 through 10, to elucidate the nature of separate substance understood as ousia energeia, insofar as it at the same time is principle and cause of the other substances, and has a or some principle(s) in common with them — an elucidation which ultimately amounts to a deepening of the notion of the analogy” (p. 174, emphasis in original).

“As was already the case in Lambda 1, separation is here invoked as a criterion of substantiality, or according to the signification established in books Zeta and Eta, which substitutes for the Platonic idea of existence apart from sensibles that of the capacity for independent existence. This criterion allows us to recall the primacy of substance over the other categories, equally posed in Lambda 1, and thereby to affirm that the causes of substance are their causes as well” (ibid).

“For the term cause (aitia), we will proceed to substitute that of principle (arkhe), in order to declare that ‘it is in another manner again that the principles are the same by analogy, that is to say act and in-potentiality'” (ibid).

Aristotle’s four causes — originally introduced in the Physics — are extremely famous. But the above already suggests that in first philosophy, his “two principles” of act and potentiality will ultimately supersede them. In a simple way, act is the end, and that-for-the-sake-of-which; potentiality is the principle of motion. Form and matter provide overlapping specifications from a more static point of view, for which act and potentiality will again tend to be substituted. Such an overlap among the causes should be no surprise, since they are intended as complementary explanations. We have already seen, for example, that Aristotle’s hylomorphism leads him to ultimately assert the identity of an embodied form with its proximate matter. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

She refers to a passage that “in associating the couple of in-potentiality and act with that of matter and form, enunciates not an equivalence, but the rules of a substitution” (p. 175). Aristotle says “In effect, in act are the form, if it is separate, as well as the composite and privation (for example, obscurity or sickness), while the matter is in-potentiality, since it is capable of becoming the two contraries” (ibid). “Act indeed serves here to express form insofar as it is capable by itself, and not only in its articulation to matter, of an independent existence. This is a great novelty in relation to Zeta and Eta, where act served to name the composite as ousia malista [ousia most of all], as alone capable of independent existence, unlike form and matter taken in themselves. Far from being a simple equivalent, act expresses form insofar as it subsists” (pp. 175-176).

This is a somewhat subtle point, but clear enough. Things that are truly equivalent are bidirectionally interchangeable, without qualification. Here she is saying act expresses form only with additional qualification, which does not license a bidirectional substitution. In effect, we have a one-directional arrow between the two terms, rather than a two-directional one.

“In these lines, the notion of act reveals the ontological sense already distinguished in Theta. On the other hand, it does not have the axiological sense with which Theta 8 charged it, in establishing its equivalence with the notions of telos [end] and of ergon [completed work]. As in Theta 9, it applies also to privation, or to the negative contrary by which matter, like form, can be said to be in-potentiality. Applied to privation, the notion of act expresses again, and paradoxically, the mode of being and this non-being. As for the notion of in-potentiality, it expresses the mode of being of matter insofar as it is precisely capable of a double becoming, — toward form, or toward privation” (p. 176).

“To the notions of matter and form, those of in-potentiality and act thus bring an ontological supplement. There is something distinctive in them, allowing them to express beings where the matter and the form are not the same. It is not only a matter of illustrating the notion of analogy, as we did earlier, in pointing out that the relation between distinct matters and forms can be the same, but more of pointing out that the notions of in-potentiality and act apply not only in the context of a single substance, but between distinct substances, and more particularly between substances where one is the cause and the other the effect (we will see later, but Theta 8 has already apprised us that they also indicate, from the one to the other, a specific relation of causality, that is to say final causality)” (ibid, emphasis in original).

“The last lines of Lambda 5 contain a first response to the question of the unification of the principles of substance. Three kinds of unity are successively indicated, which nonetheless are conjoined:”

“–at the outset, a unity of a focal kind, which consists in the primacy of substance over the other categories, which has the effect that the causes of substance are aloso the causes of all otherr things;”

“–then a unity of an analogic kind, which constitutes the principal object of Lambda 4 and 5, and in virtue of which all beings, even if constituted from different elements, nevertheless have the same principles, that is to say matter, form, and the cause of motion;”

“–and finally, a direct or transitive causal unity, in virtue of which all things have for their cause ‘that which is first in entelechy'” (p. 177).

“This enumeration, we can see, mixes transitive principles and immanent principles. If it recalls the categories of matter and form, and not those of dunamis and energeia that the preceding developments have nonetheless substituted for them, it nonetheless makes the notion of entelekheia intervene, and applies it to the first cause. The latter is no longer mentioned only, as was the case at the end of Lambda 4, as ‘that which, as first of all, moves all things’, but as ‘that which is first in entelechy’. Act, designated this time by the term entelekheia and no longer that of energeia, taken indeed in its normative and axiological sense, which is no longer only ontological, appears from this point as the notion adequate to the designation of the first cause. We find thus suggested the possibility of its extension, which the remainder of Lambda accomplishes, from the corruptible and eternal movable substances to the unmoved substance — and, on this basis, of uncovering a principle common not only to the sensible substances as a whole, but to sensible substances and to the separate substance” (ibid, emphasis in original).

Next in this series: Eternal Motion

Explanation by Constituents?

In Lambda 4, “The great opposition set up in Lambda 1 between the [Ionian philosophers of nature] and the Platonists continues to operate: here, as in Lambda 2, it is the [Ionians] who are targeted in the first instance; it is in effect against them that it is necessary to establish the irreducibility of a principle to a material element” (Aubry, Dieu san la puissance, 2nd ed., ch. 5, pp. 171-172, my translation throughout).

Aubry recalls that already in book capital Alpha, the Ionians are criticized for making the material elements of bodies the only principles and causes. The constituents of things are not a sufficient basis for explanation in general.

Aristotle’s examination shows that “distinct material realities can at the same time have different elements and identical principles. It is certain that color, for example, is not materially constituted from heat and cold; one can nonetheless distinguish that which relates to the form (the white), the privation (the black), and the material (the surface). The notion of a principle thus exceeds that of element, understood in the sense of a material constituent, and allows an account in identical terms to be given of realities that are distinct and diversely constituted” (p. 172, emphasis in original).

“But the notion of principle also adds to that of element the taking into account not only of immanent causes, but also exterior ones, and in particular the cause of motion” (p. 173).

She quotes Aristotle, “It is clear that a principle and an element are different, that both are causes, … and that the cause of motion and rest is a certain principle” (ibid).

“This formulation works both against [the Ionians] and against the Platonists. In redistributing the three terms… principle, element, and cause, it points out the respective weaknesses of each of these adversaries: for the [Ionians], the confusion between principle and element; for the Platonists, their distinction between principle and cause, and particularly the incapacity to think the Ideas as causes of motion. Against the first, it is a matter of disclosing immanent principles that are not reducible to material elements, which can be posed as identical by analogy in different realities; against the second, it is a matter of identifying a principle that is transitive and that acts as a cause” (ibid).

Next in this series: Principles of Substance

Separate Form?

“Lambda 3 goes on to show that form cannot be separate” (Aubry, Dieu san la puissance, 2nd ed., ch. 5, p. 168, my translation throughout).

I have always been rather baffled by interpretations of book Lambda that claimed to find evidence there that Aristotle finally revives the notion of separate form he so thoroughly refutes elsewhere.

“The first object of Lambda 3 is to examine the well-foundedness of the Platonic arguments in favor of the separation of form — or its pretension to the status of ousia [“substance”]. The permanence of form in generation can be invoked in support of such a thesis” (ibid).

“[F]orm, even if it well fits the Platonic criterion of ousia that is permanence, does not meet the specifically Aristotelian criteria. Here the appeal will be to that of tode ti, of being a ‘this'” (ibid).

“[T]he text opens with a new formula of change, which, contrary to the previous ones, takes into account its cause” (ibid).

As Sachs renders the full passage that she cites in part, “For with everything, something changes, by the action of something, and into something: that by the action of which it changes is the first thing that sets it in motion, that which changes is the material, and that into which it changes is the form. For it comes into being either by art or by nature, or else by fortune or chance. And next after this is the fact that each independent thing comes into being from something that has the same name (for this is true both of natural independent things and of the rest). Now art is a source that is something else, but nature is a source that is in the thing itself (since a human being begets a human being), while the rest of the causes are deprivations of these” (Metaphysics, p. 233).

Aubry notes that this language appears to be a bit of a regression, since matter has already been superseded by potentiality in Lambda chapter 2. But she explains that chapters 2 and 3 constitute a pair concerned respectively with matter and form, and chapter 2 did not yet address form.

She points out that Aristotle goes on to mention three kinds of substance, among which form is conspicuously not included. “What are enumerated are matter, which is only in appearance a tode ti; phusis [nature], which is at the same time a tode ti and a hexis [acquired disposition]; and finally, the composite, or individual realities, the kath ekasta like Socrates and Callias. Where we might expect the term form, we instead find that of phusis, which will be qualified again as hexis. For phusis is precisely a form realized in a matter, stabilized as hexis at the end of a process. Such an enumeration already signals that form as such cannot be counted as ousia, and cannot be separate, in the sense that it does not exist apart from the composite” (p. 169).

“In Zeta 8, it was already the intervention of the criterion of tode ti that allowed it to be established that form does not exist apart from (para) the composite, and thus to reject as superfluous the hypothesis of the Platonic Forms, since, at least in the case of natural beings, it is indeed an individual — and a concrete composite — that engenders another. But besides Zeta 8, it is necessary to refer equally to Eta 1…. Eta 1 makes intervene, in addition to the criterion of tode ti, the criterion of khoriston, which, as we have underlined, is equally present in Lambda 1. The examination established that matter is only a tode ti in-potentiality, dunamei; while form is only [a tode ti] insofar as it is to logo khoriston [separate according to the formula, or in speech]; and only the composite is khoriston haplos [separate simply]” (pp. 169-170).

“Like the criterion of khoriston and even dissociated from it, the criterion of individuality indeed leads to only counting the composite of matter and form as ousia” (p. 170).

“[I]n the case of art, there can be form without matter, but the form thus considered is nothing but tekhne [art] itself, that is to say in fact the form such as it is conceived and envisioned by the artisan. In the case of phusis, the principle of synonymy, the permanence of one same form transmitted from one individual to another, is sufficient to explain how we are led, as Plato did, to assert that there exist distinct forms of natural substances. But we can conclude from this neither that they are separate, nor that their character is that of tode ti and of ousia.”

“This would presuppose that the forms exist apart from and independent of composites, and in particular that they are capable of pre-existing as well as perhaps surviving them. But in truth, the existence of the formal cause is simultaneous with that of the composite. Certainly health is distinct from the healthy, and sphericity from the bronze sphere, but health and sphericity do not have full existence, that is to say do not exist as ousia except as instantiated in the cured patient, the completed sphere” (ibid).

“At the end of the whole formed by Lambda 2 and 3, we are indeed in possession of a positive result: matter, conceived kata dunamei, can be extended from the corruptible sensibles to the eternal sensibles; but also a negative result: form cannot be separate. Each of these results already contains elements of a response to the guiding questions posed in Lambda 1: whether or not it is possible to unify the principles of substance; and the nature of the separate. One term is still missing: that of energeia, in which will reside the definitive response to these two questions” (p. 171).

In discussing Lambda 2, she emphasized the substitution of potentiality for matter. Here in passing she suggests that alternatively, we could consider that matter has been redefined along with potentiality. But which alternative we endorse is really just a question of the optimal use of words. The old understanding of both matter and potentiality has been left behind.

Next in this series: Explanation by Constituents?

Potentiality in the Stars

“Lambda 2 marks the irruption in Metaphysics Lambda of the notions of dunamis and energeia, at the same time as the passage from doxographic examination to the thetic moment” (Aubry, Dieu san la puissance, 2nd ed., ch. 5, p. 165, my translation throughout). Aristotle’s distinctive concepts of potentiality and act had been absent from chapter 1’s preliminary survey of the opinions of others, but as soon as he begins to elaborate his own proper theses, they reappear.

“Lambda 2 proceeds also to a substitution: that of the couple dunamei/energeia for the triplicity of matter and the contraries. It is necessary to note — and this is an essential point — that here in what is their first occurrence in Lambda, these notions intervene straightaway under their dative form, and as a division of being: ‘For, since being is double, everything changes from being in-potentiality to being in-act’…. the dative form marking the ontological sense more specifically” (ibid).

Aristotle is not abolishing matter in the modern sense. Replacing stuff with a modality like potentiality would seem rather odd, but that is not what is occurring here. Hylomorphism means that any kind of “stuff” must already be body — and thus for Aristotle must be a “composite” of form and matter. He never treats form and matter as discrete parts of a thing, and repeatedly insists that they can only be separated by abstraction. Aristotelian matter in itself has always struck me as principally specifying a kind of primordial adverbiality and relationality involved in any embodiment.

Here he is moving yet further away from the “grammatical prejudice” of an underlying thing in which properties inhere. The whole dialectical development of the concept of “substance” (ousia) in the Zeta-Eta-Theta sequence and book Lambda precisely involves moving beyond the notion of something “underlying” that we naturally begin with in thinking about how things persist through time. Here we see a related movement beyond the abstraction that Aristotle calls matter, which was the initial candidate for something underlying.

“Lambda 2 takes metabole [change] as its primary object. It proposes an analysis appropriate to all kinds of change, and in particular both substantial change and change of position…. More precisely, it is a matter of identifying the principles common to all sensible and movable substances, whether they are eternal [astronomical] or corruptible [earthly]. For it is the intervention of the notion of dunamei and its substitution for that of matter, that makes possible this unification of the principles of sensible substance” (ibid).

“The text finds a precise parallel in book I of the Physics, where the same three formulae succeed one another: the contraries and their subject; matter, form, and privation; and finally, the formula according to power and act, kata ten dunamin kai ten energeian. Nonetheless, in Physics I the last is mentioned as having been treated elsewhere with more precision. Still it reappears at the end of that book, in the context of a critique of the Platonic theory of matter: Plato erroneously identifies matter with non-being, with evil and privation…. That which desires the positive contrary must be matter, as distinct from one and the other contrary. Matter must therefore be distinguished from privation: the latter is in itself the principle of corruption. On the other hand, if we consider it according to power, kata ten dunamin, matter is unengendered and incorruptible” (pp. 165-166).

“The last lines of book I of the Physics considerably clarify chapter 2, but also 3, of Lambda, in that they designate two distinct modes of approach to the material and formal principles: the perishable forms are in effect called ‘physical’, and the study of the others is deferred to first philosophy. But this distinction applies also to matter: in fact, we distinguish equally between corruptible matter and incorruptible matter. For unengendered and incorruptible matter is identified with matter considered kata dunamin, or according to a point of view that, without having been explicitly named, has nonetheless been distinguished from the physical point of view” (p. 166).

Modern physics and chemistry speak of an ultimate conservation of matter.

“The fact is that over the course of Lambda 2, the couple of in-potentiality and act is substituted for the triad of matter and the contraries. Thus change is no longer presented as the transition of matter from one contrary to another, but as a passage ‘from being in-potentiality to being in-act’. For to treat it thus is to underline, as the end of Physics I already has against Plato, that even in the case of generation, metabole does not have for its principle absolute non-being, but being in-potentiality. And it is also to underline, this time against [the Ionian philosophers of nature], that in-potentiality in its turn is for a determinate being” (pp. 166-167).

“But beyond these polemical stakes, the substitution of the couple of in-potentiality and act for the triad of matter and the contraries makes possible a formula of change that is valid for all the movable substances, whether they are corruptible or incorruptible” (p. 167).

“Thus conceived, kata dunamin or again dunamei, matter appears no longer as a physical component but as a metaphysical principle, valid as much for the corruptible sensibles as for the eternal sensibles” (ibid).

A component suggests something mutually exclusive with other components, while a principle affects the whole of something. Potentiality is neither a component nor an underlying thing.

This “marks a progress from Theta 8: in fact, there energeia is found attributed to the eternal sensibles, but dissociated from dunamis, since the latter was understood as the power of contradiction, and treated as definitional of the corruptible sensibles. Now we discover that it is not only act, but also in-potentiality that… admits an extension from the corruptible sensibles to the eternal sensibles” (ibid).

The “power of contradiction” would be a power to be or not to be something. Unlike earthly things, Aristotle sees the stars as moving in an unchanging way, and as not changing in their being in doing so. Since they are involved in motion from place to place, I was previously surprised by Aristotle’s remark in Theta 8 that seemed to say that eternal sensibles have no potentiality. Now we see that after all they do have potentiality, in the way that he has redefined it here.

Next in this series: Separate Form?