Krisanna Scheiter

Abstract Aristotle's account of Phantasia in De Anima 3.3 is notoriously difficult to decipher. At one point he describes Phantasia as a capacity for producing images, but then later in the same chapter it is clear Phantasia is supposed to explain appearances, such as why the sun appears to be a foot wide. Many commentators argue that images cannot explain appearances, and so they claim that Aristotle is using Phantasia in two different ways. In this paper I argue that images actually explain perceptual appearances for Aristotle, and so Phantasia always refers to images. I take a new approach to interpreting DA 3.3, reading it alongside Plato's Theaetetus and Sophist . In the Theaetetus , Socrates explains how memory gives rise to perceptual appearance. I claim that Aristotle adopts Socrates' account of perceptual appearance, but what Socrates calls memory, Aristotle calls Phantasia

Aristotle defines anger as a desire for revenge aroused by an intentional and undeserved slight. His remarks on revenge are scattered throughout his corpus causing many commentators to overlook or oversimplify his account of revenge. Stocker and Hegeman, for example, claim that for Aristotle the purpose of revenge is to make the offender suffer and take pleasure in his suffering. David Konstan claims that the purpose of revenge is to restore one’s sense of honour and social status. Both these claims are correct, but the main purpose of revenge for Aristotle, I argue, is to restore justice and ensure that we are not mistreated by the offender in the future. I begin by showing that for Aristotle revenge entails three things. First, we desire to cause the offender pain; second, we want the offender to know that we are the cause of his pain; and third, we want him to know that we are causing him pain because he mistreated us. If the purpose of revenge was merely to take pleasure in the offender’s suffering, these last two criteria would be unnecessary. I further show that the desire for revenge is not a desire to destroy or ruin the offender. Killing another person or ruining their reputation would be an act of hatred, according to Aristotle, not revenge. This is an important point and one that many contemporary philosophers writing on revenge have failed to make. For Aristotle, revenge is analogous to punishment. We punish people for stealing so that they will refrain from stealing in the future. Similarly, we seek revenge because we believe the offender wronged us; we want to cause him pain so that he will not wrong us in the future.

Given the current climate of political division and global conflict it is not surprising that there has been an increasing interest in how we ought to respond to perceived wrongdoing, both personal and political. In this volume, top scholars from around the world contribute all new original essays on the ethics of forgiveness, revenge, and punishment. This book draws on both historical and contemporary debates in order to answer important questions about the nature of forgiveness, the power of apology, the relationship between punishment and revenge, the path to reconciliation, the morality of blame, and the role of forgiveness in political conflict. Chapter 16 is available open access

The papers collected in this volume were first presented at a workshop entitled Ethics of Forgiveness and Revenge, which was held May 22-23, 2014 at Union College in Schenectady, New York. The papers cover a range of topics, including the rightness and wrongness of vengeance and forgiveness, who has the standing to avenge or forgive, the relationship between retributive punishment and revenge, and the role apology plays in determining correct punishment. The papers in this volume are not only philosophically interesting, but are also relevant to our everyday lives, since how we respond to moral wrongs is just as important as how we conduct the rest of our moral lives.

According to Aristotle there may be times when the virtuous person is justified in taking revenge. Many commentators claim that revenge, on Aristotle’s account, aims at restoring the honor and reputation of the avenger, but I will show that this cannot be why the virtuous person seeks revenge. I argue, instead, that the virtuous person seeks revenge when she is slighted in order to prove her worth. Aristotle claims that we slight those we think are neither good nor bad nor capable of producing good or bad things. Although the virtuous person will ignore most slights, Aristotle thinks there may be times when even a virtuous person will have to take revenge in order to prove her worth, not because she is insecure or requires honors, but because she cannot function to the best of her abilities within her society if those she interacts with fail to recognize her worth.

The editors of the volume, Krisanna Scheiter and Paula Satne, introduce some of the central themes in the book and briefly summarise the content of the different chapters. The chapters examine the merits and pitfalls of common reactive attitudes to wrongdoing, such as anger, hatred, resentment, and forgiveness, taking into account both historical perspectives and contemporary debates. The introduction explains some of the philosophical debates about the nature and the desirability of anger, and the alleged distinction between revenge and punishment (1.1). The introduction also surveys deep disagreements regarding the normativity of interpersonal forgiveness and indeed the very nature of forgiveness, blame, and resentment, which run through the different chapters of the book (1.2). The third section of the introduction (1.3) turns its attention to forgiveness, punishment, and reconciliation in the political sphere and the philosophical debates surrounding the nature and desirability of political forgiveness and its relation to the moral duty to remember after an atrocity, as well as the relationship between political reconciliation, apologies, and punishment. The volume offers cutting-edge scholarship on these issues and a new way to interpret and understand these concepts by important figures in the history of philosophy. The hope is that the different contributions in this volume will help the reader understand the philosophical issues that are at stake when we think about our responses to both interpersonal and political wrongdoing as well as the considerations that underpin conflicts and our attempts to resolve them.

I examine Aristotle’s reasons in DA I.3 for rejecting the claim that understanding (nous) is a magnitude (megethos), an idea Aristotle associates most explicitly with Plato, who describes nous as a self-moving circle in the Timaeus. Aristotle shows that his definition of soul, on which soul is not a magnitude or body of any kind, can explain perception, thought, and motion better than his predecessor’s materialist accounts. But unlike perception and motion, nous is not actualized through the body nor does it have a bodily organ, which makes nous a very different kind of soul capacity. Earlier thinkers, including Plato, already maintain that nous does not have a bodily organ, but they cannot explain how nous could operate or be a mover without being some sort of body itself. Even in the Timaeus, nous is described as being a kind of magnitude. But if nous were a magnitude of any kind, Aristotle claims it would not be able to think or reason. There is something about being a magnitude qua magnitude that makes reason impossible. His critique of Plato in I.3 prepares the way for his account of nous in DA III.4.