Edward Halper

Scholars of classical philosophy have long disputed whether Aristotle was a dialectical thinker. Most agree that Aristotle contrasts dialectical reasoning with demonstrative reasoning, where the former reasons from generally accepted opinions and the latter reasons from the true and primary. Starting with a grasp on truth, demonstration never relinquishes it. Starting with opinion, how could dialectical reasoning ever reach truth, much less the truth about first principles? Is dialectic then an exercise that reiterates the prejudices of one's times and at best allows one to persuade others by appealing to these prejudices, or is it the royal road to first principles and philosophical wisdom? In From Puzzles to Principles? May Sim gathers experts to argue both these positions and offer a variety of interpretive possibilities. The contributors' thoughtful reflections on the nature and limits of dialectic should play a crucial role in Aristotelian scholarship

Twice in the Poetics, Aristotle contrasts poetry with history. Whatever its didactic value, the contrast has not seemed to readers of special philosophical interest. The aim of this paper is to show that this contrast is philosophically significant not just for our understanding of tragedy but also for the light it sheds on Aristotle’s overall methodology. I shall show how he uses the method sketched in the Topics to define tragedy and explain why the same method will not define history. In particular, tragedy admits of definition because its parts constitute a unity, and much of the Poetics aims to show how, despite being defined through six distinct parts, tragedy can be one. In contrast, history, though a proper preliminary to poetics and concerned also with human action, does not admit of scientific treatment because it contains no essential unities. Aristotle’s understanding of ‘science’ is used here to explain why any attempt to create a scientific history would turn history into poetry.

Joe Sachs has a refreshing and unusual view of Aristotle's Physics: he thinks that it is a physics. In contrast, most recent writers have seen the work as an exposition of the way nature is spoken and thought about, as metaphysics, or as an anticipation of modern physics. The reason the work is often misunderstood, Sachs maintains, is that translators render it into meaningless terms rooted in medieval Latin translations. Aristotle's own "philosophic vocabulary is... incapable of dogmatic use" because he takes his terms "from the simplest content of everyday speech, the kind of language that is richest in meaning and most firmly embedded in experience and imagination". Sachs thinks that replacing the technical vocabulary traditionally used to translate Aristotle's terms with ordinary speech will, by itself, insure that readers not only think about something but think about "the very things he intended". Thus, Greek terms usually rendered as "essence," "substance," and "actuality" become here, respectively, "what it is for something to be," "thinghood," and either "being-at-work" or "being-at-work-staying-itself". Also, instead of the traditional names for the categories, Sachs uses more literal translations like "of-this-kind" and "so much"; and to avoid the modern connotations of "matter," he translates the term hulê as "material." All this leads to a certain awkwardness that is intended to mirror the original: Sachs wants readers to pause over difficult concepts and, thus, to use the text to spur philosophical thinking. To the same end, he attempts to follow the syntax of the Greek text, and he thinks that he can capture Aristotle's meaning better by not always rendering a technical term the same way. The translation is supplemented by two- to four-page commentaries, one or two per book of the Physics, and also by an introduction describing his principles of translation as well as the content and perspective of the Physics, a note explaining the internal relations of some of Aristotle's terms, and a useful Glossary detailing usages of individual terms. Four "digressive" chapters, deemed too technical for "a first study," are placed in an appendix.

This paper addresses a central metaphysical issue that has not been recognized: what kind of entity is a syllogism? I argue that the syllogism cannot be merely a mental entity. Some counterpart must exist in nature. A careful examination of the Posterior Analytics’s distinction between the syllogism of the fact and the syllogism of the reasoned fact shows that we must set aside contemporary logic to appreciate Aristotle’s logic, enables us to understand the validity of the scientific syllogism through its content rather than its form, and explains the priority of the scientific syllogism over other valid syllogisms. The opening chapters of Posterior Analytics II help us to distinguish the entities that scientific syllogism must include as its terms; namely, a genus, an essential nature, and essential attributes of the genus. Often, the attributes are found in closely linked sequences. By exploring why there are such sequences and how they are linked, the paper argues that sequences of genus, nature, and sequential attributes are the basis in nature for the process of reasoning that we call the syllogism: we come to grasp the syllogism over time but the sequences to which it refers exist together in things. So understood, the syllogism, like knowledge of forms and truths, exists in us and in the world.

Heraclitus is famous for affirming contradictions, though most readers do not regard the content of his fragments as contradictory. Examining fragments 1 and 50, this article argues that Heraclitus aims to assert a special class of contradictions, the intrinsic conflict between the content of any universal metaphysical claim and the assertion or reception of that claim. Such contradictions undermine the possibility of metaphysics as a science that knows all things. Second, the article argues that Heraclitus himself embraces this sort of contradiction by making it, as it were, the content of his Logos. Third, the article examines three other solutions to the problem that have been advanced, mostly tacitly, by other philosophers. The article concludes with some steps towards a different way of preserving the possibility of metaphysics.

Since unity is always explained through something else, it is not primary; it is not the highest cause. Further, secondary unities are not understood through a primary "one"; rather, all ones are understood through being, actuality, etc. Hence, unlike being, unity is not a . In order that "one" function as it does in the Metaphysics it cannot be a . In the second part of the fourth chapter, I discuss Aristotle's definition of "one", and I argue that "one" is analogically defined. ;The final three chapters consist of a philosophical experiment. By emphasizing Aristotle's remarks about "one" and by tracing other issues to them, I construe Books , Z-H and I as treatments of unit and one-many problems. ;This analysis shows the subordinate status of "one" rather than its primacy. In each section a similar picture emerges. Aristotle's initial problematic involves unity, but the issue is ultimately resolved with the introduction of a peculiarly Aristotelian doctrine that does not involve unity. For example, the problem of how can be one is explained by identifying form as actuality. The motivation for this doctrine is precisely that it solves the problem. This analysis shows that Aristotle is using problems involving unity in order to argue for his own doctrines, and that unity is subsidiary to actuality, being, and because it is always explained through them. ;This thesis explains the role of unity in Aristotle's Metaphysics. In particular, it addresses the question of why metaphysics is not a treatment of "one". According to Aristotle, metaphysics is the science of highest causes, and the Platonists and some Presocratics regard "one" as the highest cause. Aristotle includes "one" among the subjects treated by metaphysics, but why does he instead regard being and as the proper subject matter of this science? ;The first chapter sets the stage for the analysis. It shows the importance of unity in Aristotle's criticism of his predecessors and in his , and the importance it should have had for his commentators. In addition, this chapter considers the various ways that things are said to be one

IT IS well-known that Plato and Aristotle disagree on the possibility of knowledge of nature. Plato maintains that knowledge, in contrast with belief, is never mistaken, that the objects of knowledge are always the same and never becoming, and that what we sense is always becoming. He concludes that knowledge is possible only of objects that are unchanging and separate from sensibles, i.e., the forms. Aristotle rejects this conclusion and recognizes knowledge of sensibles. Surprisingly, though, he accepts Plato's assumptions. He too maintains that knowledge is not sometimes true and sometimes false, but always true ; he distinguishes the sensibles from the unchanging eternal beings ; and he asserts that the objects of knowledge "always are or are for the most part", and occasionally he even claims that they cannot be otherwise. The problem is, how can Aristotle accept Plato's assumptions about the nature and objects of knowledge and still maintain that knowledge of nature is possible?

Maimonides’ claim, in Guide of the Perplexed I.68, that our intellect, like God’s, becomes one with the object it knows would seem to be at odds with his injunction to his readers to set their “thought to work on the first intelligible” and to “rejoice in what [it] apprehends”. The former passage supposes that we grasp individual essences by themselves, whereas the latter supposes that such essences are known only through their first cause. Since we cannot grasp the first cause, God, we cannot, apparently, grasp anything else or rejoice in it. After briefly sketching the solutions of Aristotle and Avicenna, this paper argues that Maimonides resolves these issues by distinguishing the metaphysical grasp of a single essence from the grasp of its relations - due to God’s will - with other essences and, more specifically, the metaphysical grasp of our own human essence from the grasp of ourselves through our physical and moral relations with the world. Insofar as we know ourselves by knowing everythi...

ABSTRACT In Greek Mathematical Thought and the Origin of Algebra, Jacob Klein contrasts ancient Greek philosophy's direct engagement with things through arithmetic with the ancient science of numeric calculation, logistic. By chronicling the later development of logistic, by means of increasing symbolization, ultimately into algebra, he argues that logistic has come to displace arithmetic and, thereby, to submerge the ontological issues at the center of Greek thought. This article argues, first, that Klein's target is Ernst Cassirer's notion of number as a “symbolic function”—what Cassirer would later call “symbolic form.” In Substance and Function Cassirer argues that number constitutes a conceptual structure progressively extended by thought so as to include the results of different sorts of calculation within itself and, thereby, to be a closed system. Drawing upon Dedekind, Cassirer claims that no individual number can be understood apart from the entire conceptual structure. This article argues, second, that Cassirer recognizes, as it were, a different set of things, namely, relations, and that it is possible to engage these “things” directly by recognizing the ontological issues they raise.