Oded Balaban

All the paradoxes in the Engberg-Pedersen interpretation and all the present-day discussions about whether energeia is an activity or a state, are not, in my opinion, the result of a defective reading of Aristotle but, rather, the influence of the prevailing values of our industrial society. These values - held, as it seems, by these commentators - are conspicuously teleological: they prevent us from grasping the qualitative difference between praxis and poesis and between energeia and kinesis. Indeed, since these teleological values do not take this difference into account, the commentators only ask, when Aristotle distinguishes between praxis and poesis, how much time praxis takes, or if it takes time at all, which is totally irrelevant. Duration in time is incompatible with praxis, not because praxis does not take time nor because it is a state, but because duration in time relates only to purposeful thinking and productive activity, which praxis is not. Commentators fail therefore to analyze successfully the meaning of the expression “actions in which the end (telos) inheres.” It is not clear to them what is meant by activities that are ends in themselves. Failing to grasp this fact, they resort to analysing the temporality of the activity, which is irrelevant to it.Time is a measure of efficiency, and therefore relevant in poesis which is concerned with achievement. The relation of poesis to time is an inverse one: the shorter the time taken for an activity the better the poesis.In ancient-Greek consciousness a valuable activity was that which was undertaken for its own sake and therefore without concern for the amount of time employed in its performance; whereas an action taken as a means to an end was regarded as immoral. In modern society, on the other hand, utilitarian values tend to make it almost incomprehensible that something should be done for its own sake: every human action is evaluated by its result, and when the focus is on the result the criteria of efficiency and utility are obviously relevant. The Greeks valued praxis more than poesis, whereas our culture values poesis and techne more than praxis. The understanding of Aristotle's concept of praxis is useful therefore not only in order to understand ancient-Greek culture, but also to understand better our own presuppositions.

HEGEL says that "when enquiry is made as to the kind of predicate belonging to [a] subject, the act of judgement necessarily implies an underlying concept [Begriff]; but this concept is expressed only by the predicate." According to this, some concept of the subject must precede predication. This circularity can be formulated as follows: If the statement is the "factory" in which concepts are produced, how is it that the concepts precede the statement and are not merely produced within it in their function as subjects? And, on the other hand, if the subject is not, prior to predication, a concept--if it has by itself no meaning--how can a predicate be matched to it? There would, in fact, be nothing to match. We are caught in a circular thesis that requires for its elucidation a fresh analysis of the relationship between concept and statement.

In the passage from the Enneads devoted to discussing and defining the nature of time, it is written that first one must experience eternity, which, as everyone knows, is the model and archetype of time. This initial warning, which is especially serious because we trust in its sincerity, appears to wipe out all hope of finding common ground with its author.Jorge Luis Borges, History of EternitySo let us leave the Platonists to wander off down a blind alley. Poor simpletons, they think they will find the secret of discourse about time in the link with eternity. Whereas I, who am powerless in the face of eternity, would prefer to ask: what link can be retained, in discourse about time, between past, present, and future? If there is some link, can the three kinds of time break free of their mutual bonds? Can predicting the future, a time that will be but has never existed before, be disconnected from what determines the future as a product of what already exists and what has already existed? Can the past be what it once was or will it always be what each age decides it should have been?

The Straniak Philosophy Prize 1995 awarded by the Hermann and Marianne Straniak Foundation Sarnen/Switzerland This book explores Eastern and Western ideas of freedom and reveals the essential differences, as well as similarities, between Eastern and Western cultural values. Inspired by an ancient Greek myth recounted by Protagoras, the authors suggest that three important values tend to motivate human activity: achieving pleasure, achieving results, and obeying moral law. Then, drawing on intellectual sources ranging from traditional Hinduism to modern existentialism, the authors proceed to show how these values - pleasure, efficiency, and morality - determine the idea of freedom as it appears in various philosophical systems of East and West. In the course of their analysis, the idea of freedom is itself emancipated from the usual kinds of cultural boundaries that have so often limited both its usefulness and its timeliness.

Are human beings antithetical in nature? Is there a radical difference between pleasure, efficiency, and moral good, or is the conflict only imaginary? These have traditionally been considered the central questions of Plato's most vivid dialogue, the Protagoras. Many interpreters have seen this dialogue as a confrontation between the moralist and the relativist. This dichotomy is manifest when Plato and Protagoras discuss theoretical questions concerning either knowledge of facts or knowledge of values. Through a careful examination of the text, specifically of practical questions about values, Oded Balaban breaks with tradition by concluding that Plato and Protagoras do not exemplify characteristic moralism or relativism at all. He finds that the issue at the crux of the discussion is instead that of the criterion for knowledge and valuation; the Protagoras thus describes the search for a standard by which anything may be known and valued. Balaban applies the fundamental question of standards to that of the entire field of rhetoric: Should a discourse be short or long, simple or complex? What is the standard for conducting literary criticism? The author's revolutionary approach to the Protagoras also involves a study of the myth of Protagoras and situates the dialogue within its framework.