Reeve (2012) Aristotle's philosophical method

Reeve, Cdc (2012). Aristotle's philosophical method. In Christopher Shields, The Oxford Handbook of Aristotle. Oxford University Press USA. pp. 150.

1. Dialectic, Eristic, and Sophistry

Dialectical deductions differ from scientifc ones only in their premises: the latter are deductions from starting-points and hence are demonstrations (apodeixeis); the former are deductions from endoxa (Top. I 1 100a1-b23; Met. III 1 995b23–4). In the case of eristic [논쟁적] arguments the differences are potentially twofold: they are either genuine deductions from apparent endoxa or apparent deductions from genuine or apparent endoxa (Top. I 1 100b23–5). Paralogistic [오류] arguments differ from all these: unlike dialectical or eristic arguments, their premises are not endoxa, but ‘premises proper to a specialized science’ (Top. I 1 101a5–7); unlike scientific demonstrations, their premises are false (Top. I 1 101a14).

‘In dialectic,’ Aristotle tells us, ‘a sophist is so called on the basis of his deliberate choice (prohairesis), and a dialectician is so called not on the basis of his deliberate choice, but on the basis of the ability he has’ (Rhet. I 1 1355b20–1). If dialectic is understood in this way, it is a neutral craft, and a dialectician who decides to employ eristic arguments is a sophist (Rhet. I 1 1335a24-b7). A contender (eristikos) also employs such arguments, but di ers from a sophist in his purposes: ‘Sophistry . . . is a way of making money out of apparent wisdom. . . . Contenders and sophists use the same arguments, but not to achieve the same goal. . . . If the goal is apparent victory, the argument is eristic or contentious; if it is apparent wisdom, sophistic’ (SE 11 171b27–9).

In the Topics and Sophistical Refutations, by contrast, the person who decides to use only genuine and never eristic arguments is a dialectician, since in both treatises dialectic differs from eristic precisely in employing genuine endoxa and genuine deductions rather than merely apparent ones (Top. I 1 100a29-b25, SE 2 165b3 8, 11 171b34–172a2). For clarity's sake, let us say that plain dialectic is the neutral craft contenders, sophists, and honest dialecticians use for different purposes, imposing different restrictions on which of its resources may be legitimately employed

2. Peirastic Deductions and Sophistical Refutations

Peirastic (peirastikê) is ‘a type of dialectic which has in view not the person who knows (eidota), but the one who pretends to know but does not’ (SE 11 171b4–6). It is the type particularly useful in arguments with sophists, since they are the archetypal pretenders to knowledge and wisdom (SE 1 165a21). Though Aristotle usually uses the term peirastikê to refer to honest peirastic rather than to the plain craft (SE 2 165b4–6), he courts confusion, as we shall see, by using it to refer to the plain craft too.

The best way to distinguish honest peirastic from honest dialectic pure and simple is by exploring sophistical refutations, which are the dishonest twins of honest peirastic arguments. Honest peirastic arguments expose the genuine ignorance of a sophist answerer, who has only apparent knowledge and wisdom (SE 11 171b3–6); sophistical refutations give the appearance of exposing the ignorance of someone who really does have scienti c knowledge (SE 6 168b4–10). Such refutations are of two sorts. An a-type sophistical refutation is ‘an apparent deduction or refutation rather than a real one’; a b-type is ‘a real deduction that is only apparently proper to the subject in question’ (SE 8 169b20–3). A-type sophistical refutations are eristic arguments, therefore, whereas b-types are like paralogisms (SE 11 171b34–7).

The paralogisms proper to a craft or science are those based on the starting-points and theorems belonging to it (SE 11 171b38–172a1). Thus Hippocrates’ argument for squaring the circle by means of lunes is a geometrical paralogism, because it ‘proceeds from starting-points proper to geometry’ and ‘cannot be adapted to any subject except geometry’ (SE 11 172a4–5). Someone who uses Zeno's argument that motion is impossible in order to refute a doctor's claim that it is better to take a walk after dinner, however, has produced a b-type sophistical refutation, since Zeno's arguments are not proper to geometry or medicine but ‘koinos (common)’ (SE 11 172a8–9). Such an argument is paralogistic, indeed, even when sound: ‘Bryson's method of squaring the circle, even if the circle is thereby squared, is still sophistical because it is not in accord with the relevant subject matter’ (SE 11 171b16–18). The only difference between paralogisms and b-type sophistical refutations is that the former have premises proper to the answerer's science but false, while the latter have premises not proper to it but true.

Because paralogisms depend on premises proper to a science, it is the job of the scientist himself to diagnose and refute them. It is not his job to deal with b-type sophistical refutations (Phys. I 2 185a16–17, SE 9 170a36–8), however, but that of a dialectician: ‘It is dialecticians who study a refutation that depends on koina, that is to say, that do not belong to any [specialized] craft’ (SE 9 170a38–9). Dialecticians must also deal with Antiphon's argument for squaring the circle, which is an a-type sophistical refutation, since by assuming that a circle is a polygon with a large but nite number of sides, it ‘does away with the starting points of geometry’ (Phys. II 185a1–2)—in particular, with the principle that magnitudes are divisible without limit. It cannot be discussed in a way that presupposes those starting-points, therefore, and so must be discussed on the basis of koina (Top. II 101a35-b4).

One view about koina is that they are axioms (axiômata)—starting-points common to all or many sciences (APo I 2 72a15–17, I 9 76b14–15). The laws of logic, such as the principle of noncontradiction, which hold at least analogically of all beings, are examples, as are other somewhat less general laws, such as the axioms of equality, which are not universally applicable, but are also not proper to a single science or single genus of beings (APo I 10 76a38-b2).

On one manuscript reading, indeed, SE 11 172a36–7 actually identies koina with axiômata, with ‘identical (τ’ αὐτα) starting-points which hold true of everything.’ On another reading, it says only that there are ‘many of these (ταῦτα) [common] things in each area.’ Though most editors favour the first reading, the second is preferable.

Axioms, as common to many sciences, cannot by themselves entail a proposition contrary to a conclusion proper to a specific science. Hence it is impossible to construct b-type sophistical refutations using axioms alone. Yet that is precisely what b-type sophistical refutations must use koina to do.

3. Didactic Deductions

4. The Classification of Deductions

In Topics I 1,

deductions are divided into four classes:

(T1) scientific
(T2) paralogistic
(T3) honest dialectic
(T4) eristic.

In Sophistical Refutations I 2

they are also initially divided into four:

(S1) didactic
(S2) peirastic
(S3) honest dialectic
(S4) eristic.

Then two more are added:

(S5) a-type sophistical refutations
(S6) b-type sophistical refutations.

Though apparently discordant, the two classi cations t together to constitute a single systematic classi cation of dialectical deductions. Deductions are generally of two kinds:

(D1) genuine (valid)
(D2) apparent (invalid)

The premises of each may be:

(P1) true and proper starting-points of a science
(P2) untrue but proper starting-points of a science
(P3) true endoxa proper to a science
(P4) true endoxa only apparently proper to a science
(P5) endoxa
(P6) apparent endoxa.

(D1–2) and (P1–6) together determine the various kinds of dialectical deductions:
(D1)-(P1) scientific demonstrations (T1); presupposed in didactic arguments (S1)
(D1)-(P2) paralogisms (T2)
(D1)-(P3) peirastic deductions (S2)
(D1)-(P4) b-type sophistical refutations (S6)
(D1)-(P5) honest dialectic arguments (T3), (S3)
(D1)-(P6) eristic arguments or a-type sophistical refutations (T4), (S4), (S5)
(D2)-(P5) eristic arguments or a-type sophistical refutations (T4), (S4), (S5).

5. Dialectical Premises

A dialectical premise consists in [a] making a question out of something that is endoxos to everyone or to the majority or to the wise—either to all of them, or to most, or to the most notable of them, provided it is not contradoxical; for a person would accept the opinion of the wise, provided it is not contrary to general opinion (doxa). Dialectical premises also include [b] things that are like endoxa, and [c] propositions that contradict the contraries of what seem to be endoxa, and also [d] all opinions that accord with [the starting-points of] the recognized crafts, . . . since a person would accept the opinions of those who have investigated the subjects in question—for example, on a question of medicine he will agree with the doctor, and on a question of geometry with the geometer (Top. I 10 104 8–37)

[e] Furthermore, statements that seem to hold in all or in most cases, should be taken as starting points, that is to say, as accepted theses; for such statements are accepted by those who do not notice that there is a case in which they do not hold. [f] We ought also to select [premises] from written accounts and draw up lists of them on each type of subject, putting them under separate headings—for example, ‘Dealing with good’, ‘Dealing with life’. And the one dealing with good, should deal with every kind of good, beginning with the essence (Top. I 14 105b10–15)

The fact that (b) describes propositions that are ‘like endoxa,’ that (c) speaks of the contraries of what ‘seem to be endoxa,’ and that (e) includes as endoxa statements that merely seem to be true to those ‘who do not notice that there is a case in which they do not hold’ strongly suggest that these clauses refer to apparent endoxa. Aristotle's illustrative examples bear this out: (i) ‘If it is an endoxon that the science of contraries is the same, it might appear to be an endoxon that the perception of contraries is also the same’ (Top. I 11 104a15–17); (ii) ‘Propositions contradicting the contraries of endoxa will appear to be endoxa’ (Top. I 10 104a20–3); (iii) ‘If it is an endoxon that there is a single craft of grammar, it might also seem to be an endoxon that there is a single craft of ute-playing’ (Top. I 10 104a17–20).

(i) and (ii) explicitly refer to apparent endoxa, while (iii) makes sense only if it too has them in view, since if a proposition is a genuine endoxon, its contrary cannot be (Top. VIII 5 159b4–6). Since both endoxa and apparent endoxa can serve as premises in plain dialectical deductions, we cannot identify genuine endoxa with such premises, or infer that everything said about the latter applies willy-nilly to them.

The propositions referred to in (d) are in accord with the starting-points of the recognized crafts, so they must be genuine. But because they only would be accepted by anyone, they do not have to be already accepted so to count. Since written accounts are likely to have wise people or practitioners of the recognized crafts as authors, (f) is probably a new source of something already listed rather than a wholly new addition to the list. Aristotle himself suggests as much when he writes that we should note in the margins of the lists we distil from these writings the identity of the thinkers, such as Empedocles, who hold them, since ‘anyone might assent to the saying of some endoxos (reputable) thinker’ (Top. I 14 105b17–18).

Because medicine is itself an acknowledged craft or recognized area of expertise, the opinions of a doctor known to have studied medicine carry weight with everyone, whether or not the doctor himself has already acquired a good reputation. Hence if a person can show that he has been trained as a doctor, that is enough, everything else being equal, to guarantee that the answerer would accept his opinion on medical matters. Of course, someone can be wise without being a practitioner of a recognized craft, but his epistemic authority cannot then ow from his training. Nor is it enough that he be wise. If his opinions are to have any standing, the answerer must recognize him as a wise person. In other words, like Solon or Thales, he must be notable for his wisdom or have a reputation as a wise man. Hence the reference to notability and reputation in the relevant clause of the de nition of endoxa (Top. I 1 100b23).

6. Endoxa and Phainomena

The fact that all or most people believe something, Aristotle claims, leads us ‘to trust it as something based on experience’ (Div. Somn. 1 462b14–16). For ‘human beings are naturally adequate as regards the truth and for the most part happen upon it’ (Rhet. I 1 1355a15–17), so that each person ‘has something of his own to contribute’ to it (EE I 6 1216b30–1). Thus experience—whether in the form of perception or correct habituation (Top. I 11 105a3–7, EN I 4 1095b4–8, EE I 3 1214b28–1215a3)—must surely be what provides the evidence for direct endoxa in class (1). Direct endoxa are thus beliefs that seem true to us on the basis of experience. Presumably, that is why Aristotle occasionally refers to them as phainomena—as things that seem to be so (Top. I 10 104a12 with 14 105a37-b1, EE VII 2 1235b13–18 with EN VII 1 1145b2–7).

Phainomena include, in the rst instance, basic perceptual observations: ‘This [that the earth is spherical] is also shown by the sensory phainomena. For how else would lunar eclipses exhibit segments shaped as we see them to be?’ (DC II 14 297b23–5; also 297a2–6). But though phainomena are for this reason typically contrasted with things that are supported by proof or evidence (EE I 6 1216b26–8), there seems to be no a priori limit on the degree of conceptualization or theory-ladenness manifest in them. They need not be, and in Aristotle rarely are, devoid of interpretative content. It is a phainomenon, for example, that the incontinent person ‘knows that his actions are base, but does them because of his feelings, while the continent one knows that his appetites are base, but because of reason does not follow them’ (EN VII 1 1145b12–14)

It is important to be clear, however, that Aristotle does not presuppose that endoxa are all guaranteed to be true. To be sure, an endoxon has epistemic credentials that are from the point of view of dialectic nonpareil. But that is because dialectic deals with things only ‘in relation to opinion’ not, as philosophy does, ‘in relation to truth’ (Top. I 14 105b30–1). If a proposition is an endoxon, if it would be accepted by all or most people, it is everything an honest dialectician could ask for in a premise. But that does not mean that it will retain its credibility when the philosopher has done his aporematic or aporia-related work.

7. Problems, Theses, and Aporiai

A dialectical problem is a subject of inquiry . . . about which [a] people hold no opinion either way, or [b] on which the many hold an opinion contrary to that of the wise, or [c] the wise contrary to that of the many, or [d] about which the members of either of these classes disagree among themselves. . . . Problems also occur [e] where deductions con ict, since there is an aporia about whether the thing holds or not, because there are strong arguments on both sides. They occur, too, [f] where we have no argument because they are so vast, and we nd it di cult to give an explanation—for example, is the universe eternal or not? For one may also inquire into problems of that sort (Top. I 11 104b1 17)

8. Uses of Dialectic

Dialectic has four apparently distinct uses, three of which are the focus of the present section: (a) intellectual training, (b) ordinary discussions, and (c) in relation to the philosophical sciences (Top. I 2 101a26–7). Dialectic's usefulness for (a) training is ‘immediately evident,’ because ‘if we have a line of inquiry, we can more easily take on a question proposed to us’ (Top. I 2 101a28–30). Since all other uses provide intellectual training too, just as all sports provide physical training, this use is presumably the broadest one. If we are dialektikos—if we are dialectically pro cient (Top. VIII 14 164b1–4)—we will be better able to deal with any question put to us by any sort of questioner. Contrariwise, dealing with all sorts of questioners will tend to make or keep us more dialectically pro cient.

Dialectic is useful in (b) ‘ordinary discussions,’ because, as we saw, ‘once we have catalogued the beliefs of the many, our approach to them will begin from their own views, not from other people's, and we will redirect them whenever they appear to us to be wrong’ (Top. I 2 101a31–4). Here, it is dialectic's systematic collecting and categorizing of endoxa (Top. I 14 105b12–18) that proves particularly helpful. For by knowing what people will accept as premises, we will be better able to argue e ectively and persuasively against them when they seem to be mistaken—even if their own lack of dialectical training means that the argument is sometimes ‘bound to degenerate’ (Top. VIII 14 164b9–10)

Aristotle sometimes applies the term ‘philosophy’ to any of the sciences that aim, in particular, at theoretical truth: ‘It is also right that philosophy should be called scienti c knowledge of the truth. For the end of theoretical knowledge is truth, while that of practical knowledge is action’ (Met. II 1 993b19–20). In this sense, any non-practical science will count as philosophy. At the same time, Aristotle occasionally recognizes some non-theoretical philosophies, such as ‘the philosophy of human a airs’ (EN X 9 1180b15) or ‘political philosophy,’ classifying some of his own writings as ‘those philosophical works of ours dealing with ethical issues’ (Pol. III 12 1282b19–23). Finally, to make matters yet more complex, ‘philosophy’ also has a narrower, more specialized sense, in which it applies exclusively to sciences that provide theoretical knowledge of scienti c starting-points (Met. XI 1 1059a18). It is in this sense of the term that there are ‘three theoretical philosophies, mathematical, natural, and theological’ (Met. VI (Epsilon) 1 1026a18–19)

9. Dialectic and Starting-Points

In addition to its uses in training, ordinary discussions, and the philosophical sciences, dialectic is also

[d] useful with regard to the starting-points in each science. For [e] it is impossible to discuss them at all from the starting-points proper to the science proposed for discussion, since the starting-points are primary among all [the truths contained in the science]; instead they must be discussed through the endoxa about them. This is distinctive of dialectic, or more appropriate to it than to anything else; for [f] since it examines (exetastikê), it provides a way towards the starting points of all lines of inquiry (Top. I 2 101a36-b4)

According to (e), a certain kind of discussion of starting-points is impossible.Whether it is a dialectical discussion, in which starting-points appear as the contents of dialectical problems, or a philosophical investigation into starting-points, the premises involved cannot be the starting-points themselves, since they are the very things at issue. Instead, they must be endoxa. But, as we saw in the previous section, the class of endoxa the aporematic philosopher considers is typically broader than the class available to the honest dialectician, who is limited to employing endoxa that an answerer, eager not to be refuted, can reasonably be expected to accept. By the same token, when (f) tells us that dialectic provides a way towards starting-points because it examines (exetastikê), it could be referring to dialectical examination of some sort or to philosophical examination. The verb exetazein is used to refer to both sorts of activities. In the opening sentence of the Rhetoric, for example, it refers to dialectical questioning or examining in general: ‘everyone attempts either to examine propositions or maintain them’ (I 1 1354 4–5). At EN I 4 1095 28 and EE I 3 1215 6, it refers to an aporematic philosopher's examination of various views, popular as well as expert, on the nature of happiness.

10. Philosophy and Dialectic

A person well educated in medicine, for example, is capable of discerning whether someone has treated a disease correctly (Pol. III 11 1282 3–7), and the ‘unconditionally well-educated person,’ who is well educated in every subject or area, ‘seeks rigor in each area to the extent that the nature of its subject matter allows’ (EN I 3 1094b23–1095 2). Whether identical to intellectual euphuia, or a state developed from it by intellectual training in the way that habituated virtue is developed from natural virtue by adequate upbringing, it is surely this sort of educatedness the aporematic philosopher needs to perform the task Aristotle assigns to intellectual euphuia. For if he is well-educated he will be discerning in the realm of knowledge, able to distinguish genuine sciences from specious or sophistic look-alikes, and so be able to determine which starting-points he should be trying to nd an aporia-free way toward.