REFERÊNCIA

IRWIN, T. H. Ethics as na Inexact Science: Aristotle’s Ambitions for Moral (In: HOOKER, Brad. LITTLE, Margaret O. Moral Particularism. Oxford University Press, 2001).

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RESUMO

Modesty in Ethical Theory

The variability of fine, just, and good things makes it impossible to reach necessary and universal principles; we must say something `roughly and in outline, contenting ourselves with ‘usual’ (or ‘for the most part’: hos epi to polu) rather than necessary principles (1094b14-27).

Some readers take these passages about the inexactness of universal claims about ethics to support a ‘particularist’ interpretation. According to a particularist view, Aristotle does not regard general rules as prescriptive guides to action, and does not seek general principles that will guide agents in deciding that one course of action is morally right and another is wrong.

Some of Aristotle’s later remarks have been taken to support particularism. In his view, what we can say about particular cases is even less exact than what we can say in universal accounts; particular cases must be decided by the agents themselves, who must consider what is opportune (1103b34-1104a2)

(HOOKER, p.100)

If we argue in this way, we attribute a ‘particularist’ view to Aristotle, in so far as we claim that, in his view, perceptual judgements about particular situations are normatively prior to general rules. Martha Nussbaum, *3 John McDowell, *4 and Jonathan Dancy, *5 among others, have defended this position — both as an account of Aristotle and as the truth, and in speaking of particularist views I have their views primarily in mind. *6

`Normative priority’ is difficult to describe clearly, but it seems to capture one significant issue. For particularists need not deny that there are true, even useful, general principles in ethics. Nor need `universalists’ deny that the trained perception of the virtuous agent is useful, even indispensable, for acting rightly and living well. The dispute seems to be about priority—not about temporal priority in learning, but about theoretical normative priority. Are the true principles true to the extent that they summarize the particular perceptual judgements of virtuous agents, or are the particular judgements correct in so far as they conform to true general principles?

Critics who have presented the most careful and detailed case for treating Aristotle as a particularist are also particularists themselves. It is sometimes difficult to tell whether they are actually ascribing an argument for particularism to Aristotle himself, or offering their own arguments for Aristotle’s conclusions.

*3 See M. C. Nussbaum, Love's Knowledge (Oxford: OUP, 1990), 68: 'We must notice that rules could play an important role in practical reason without being prior to particular perceptions. For they might be used not as normative for perception, the ultimate authorities against which the correctness of particular choices is assessed, but more as summaries or rules of thumb, highly useful for a variety of purposes, but valid only to the extent to which they correctly describe good concrete judgments, and to be assessed, ultimately, against these. On this second picture, there is still room for recognizing as ethically salient the new or surprising feature of the case before us, features that could not have been anticipated in the rule, or even features that could not in principle be captured in any rule. If Aristotle's talk of rules is of this second kind, there need be no tension at all between his evident interest in rules and definitions, and his defense of the priority of perception. I shall now argue that this is, in fact, the situation, and explore his reasons for giving priority to the particular.' Nussbaum quotes passages from Aristotle referring to the judgement of perception in particulars, and takes these passages to show that Aristotle 'explicitly claims that priority in practical choice should be accorded not to principle, but to perception' (p. 68). See also The Fragility of Goodness (Cambridge: CUP), 299.

*4 McDowell, 'Comments on "Some Rational Aspects of Incontinence"', p. 94 and n.12: `If having the right conception of doing well . . . cannot be identified with acceptance of a set of universal rules or principles, something whose correctness we could try to make out independently of their application to particular cases, then there is really nothing for it to be except the capacity to get things right occasion by occasion: that is, the perceptual capacity . . . that singles out the right minor premiss ... There is a link, which these words should suggest, between the unwillingness of many commentators to take Aristotle's particularism fully seriously and the prevalent idea that the concept of eudaimonia is supposed to promise a validation of the particular ethic which Aristotle thinks correct, from outside its own distinctive valuations.' In a later paper, McDowell may qualify the strong claim in 'there is really nothing for it to be'. See 'Some Issues in Aristotle's Moral Psychology', in Cambridge Companion to Ancient Thought: Ethics, ed. S. Everson (Cambridge: CUP, 1998), ch. 5, at p. 111: 'Having the right conception of the end is, at least, a state of one's motivational susceptibilities.'

*5 See Jonathan Dancy, Moral Reasons (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993), 50 (reference letters added): `(a) The virtuous person is not conceived of as someone equipped with a full list of moral principles and an ability correctly to subsume each new case under the right one. (b) There is nothing that one brings to the new situation other than a contentless ability to discern what matters where it matters, an ability whose presence in us is explained by our having undergone a successful moral education.' Dancy claims (correctly, to judge by 'If having . then there is really nothing' in the passage from McDowell quoted in fn. 4) that McDowell attributes the conjunction of (a) and (b) to Aristotle. Claim (a) is fairly weak; it simply denies that the virtuous person has a 'full' set of moral principles and an ability to subsume 'each' new case under the right principle. We would agree with this if we supposed that people may be virtuous even if they have less than a full set of principles, and lack the ability to subsume every single new case under one of these principles. If, for instance, we think virtuous people must have a large, though less than full, set of principles, and that they must be able to subsume most, though not all, new cases under these principles, we will agree with (a), but we are not committed to particularism. Our admission that the principles are incomplete is quite compatible with insistence that they are normatively prior to (or not normatively posterior to) perception of particulars. Claim (b) introduces particularism. If virtuous people bring nothing to new situations except a contentless ability to discern what matters where it matters, they cannot be guided by normatively prior general principles: for if they were guided by such principles, they would have a contentful ability, whose content is given by generalizations that are always needed, though not always sufficient, for a correct decision. The claim that is rejected in (a) and the claim accepted in (b) do not exhaust the possibilities; if we are to agree with McDowell and Dancy, it must be clear not only that they are right in rejecting the interpretation of Aristotle that they reject (the one rejected in claim (a) ), but that they are right in accepting the interpretation they accept (the one accepted in claim (b) ). To show that McDowell's view is Aristotelian, Dancy adds: 'Anyone who has read Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics will discern the Aristotelian style of this account of virtue, both in its refusal to see moral judgment as the subsumption of a new case under a previously formulated moral principle and in its stress on the role of moral education' (p. 50). Dancy adds a cautionary footnote to this sentence: 'This claim is, I fear, an exaggeration' (p. 58). I am not sure whether, in Dancy's view, the exaggeration consists in the suggestion that anyone who has read Aristotle's Ethics will discern the things Dancy mentions, or in the suggestion that these things are really present in Aristotle.

*5 Veja Jonathan Dancy, Moral Reasons (Oxford: Blackwell, 1993), 50 (cartas de referência adicionadas): `(a) A pessoa virtuosa não é concebida como alguém equipado com uma lista completa de princípios morais e uma capacidade de subsumir corretamente cada novo caso sob o correto. (b) Não há nada que alguém traga para a nova situação além de uma habilidade sem conteúdo para discernir o que importa onde importa, uma habilidade cuja presença em nós é explicada por termos passado por uma educação moral bem-sucedida.’ Dancy afirma (corretamente, a julgar por ‘Se tendo . então não há realmente nada’ na passagem de McDowell citada na nota 4) que McDowell atribui a conjunção de (a) e (b) a Aristóteles. A reivindicação (a) é razoavelmente fraca; simplesmente nega que a pessoa virtuosa tenha um conjunto ‘completo’ de princípios morais e uma capacidade de incluir ‘cada’ novo caso sob o princípio correto. Concordaríamos com isso se supusessemos que as pessoas podem ser virtuosas mesmo que tenham menos do que um conjunto completo de princípios e não tenham a capacidade de incluir cada novo caso sob um desses princípios. Se, por exemplo, pensarmos que as pessoas virtuosas devem ter um conjunto de princípios amplo, embora menos do que completo, e que devem ser capazes de incluir a maioria, embora não todos, os novos casos sob esses princípios, concordaremos com (a) , mas não estamos comprometidos com o particularismo. Nossa admissão de que os princípios são incompletos é bastante compatível com a insistência de que eles são normativamente anteriores (ou não normativamente posteriores) à percepção dos particulares. A afirmação (b) introduz o particularismo. Se as pessoas virtuosas não trazem nada para novas situações exceto uma habilidade sem conteúdo para discernir o que importa onde importa, elas não podem ser guiadas por princípios gerais normativamente anteriores: pois se fossem guiadas por tais princípios, elas teriam uma habilidade com conteúdo, cujo conteúdo é dado por generalizações sempre necessárias, embora nem sempre suficientes, para uma decisão correta. A reivindicação rejeitada em (a) e a reivindicação aceita em (b) não esgotam as possibilidades; se quisermos concordar com McDowell e Dancy, deve ficar claro não apenas que eles estão certos em rejeitar a interpretação de Aristóteles que eles rejeitam (aquela rejeitada na afirmação (a)), mas que eles estão certos em aceitar a interpretação que eles aceitar (o aceito na reivindicação (b)). Para mostrar que a visão de McDowell é aristotélica, Dancy acrescenta: “Qualquer um que tenha lido a Ética a Nicômaco de Aristóteles discernirá o estilo aristotélico dessa explicação da virtude, tanto em sua recusa em ver o julgamento moral como a subsunção de um novo caso sob uma moral previamente formulada. princípio e em sua ênfase no papel da educação moral’ (p. 50). Dancy acrescenta uma nota de rodapé de advertência a esta frase: “Esta afirmação é, receio, um exagero” (p. 58). Não tenho certeza se, na visão de Dancy, o exagero consiste na sugestão de que qualquer pessoa que tenha lido a Ética de Aristóteles discernirá as coisas que Dancy menciona, ou na sugestão de que essas coisas estão realmente presentes em Aristóteles.

*6 Nussbaum mentions McDowell as holding a view similar to hers. See Love's Knowledge, 36-7. Particularism is discussed further by R. B. Loudon, Morality and Moral Theory (Oxford: OUP, 1992), 88f, 103f; 'Aristotle's Practical Particularism', in Essays in Ancient Greek Philosophy, iv, J. P. Anton and A. Preus (eds.), (Albany: SUNY Press, 1991). A moderate version of particularism is attributed to Aristotle by N. Sherman, Making a Necessity of Virtue (Cambridge: CUP, 1996), ch. 6 (see esp. pp. 262-4 for the particularist theses that she regards as 'broadly Aristotelian in spirit', and pp. 268-72 on the usual).

(HOOKER, p.102-103)

Still, we can raise a question about Aristotle’s view that is distinct from any question we might raise about the truth of particularism. We refute the case for regarding Aristotle as a particularist if we show that we have no good reason to believe that he regards perception of particulars as prior to acceptance of general principles.

To show this, it is not necessary to show Aristotle is a ‘universalist’ or a `generalist’ rather than a particularist; that is to say, he might deny priority to particulars without assigning it to general principles. As I understand particularism and universalism, they are mutually exclusive, but not exhaustive. If we decide that Aristotle is not a particularist, we may then consider whether he is a universalist, or he rejects both particularism and universalism. I am not trying to answer this further question; an answer to it would require us to settle several issues that we can leave open if we are simply considering particularism.

I emphasize this point to make it clear that it would be illegitimate to argue from the moral insufficiency of general principles to the truth of particularism. The insufficiency of general principles might (if it is the appropriate kind of insufficiency) constitute an argument against generalism, but it is not sufficient to prove the stronger thesis of particularism, and it is this stronger thesis that I discuss.

My argument is purely exegetical; it seeks to decide whether Aristotle can be shown to be a particularist, not whether particularism is true. Still, it may have some philosophical relevance. For it is probably not an accident that particularists appeal to Aristotle. We might assume that if we accept some familiar and plausible Aristotelian claims about generalizations and perception in ethics, we ought to find particularism at least plausible and intuitively appealing. If this assumption is false, we lose some intuitive support for particularism.

(HOOKER, p.104)

 

The Inexactness of Ethics

In saying that ethical generalizations are not exact, Aristotle means that (1) they are not about subject matter that allows the truth of unqualified generalizations, and that (2) they are not sufficiently qualified to take account of all the relevant exceptions to unqualified generalizations. This second feature, however, still raises a question. When Aristotle says ‘we would not seek the same degree of exactness in all sorts of arguments alike, any more than in the products of different crafts, we might understand him to make either of two claims: (a) The material we are dealing with simply does not allow exact treatment. (b) Even if we could treat it exactly, exact treatment would be inappropriate.

Aristotle gives some examples to clarify his claim that ethical generalizations are inexact and merely usual (1094b14-19). He mentions difference and variation in fine and just things, and notices that some people have inferred from this difference and variation that things are just and fine merely by convention. *10

* 10 'Difference and variation' (diaphoran kai planen) could be taken in two ways: (a) Aristotle appeals to subjective variation. Fine and just things cause many differences and variations in people's opinion about them. (b) He appeals to objective variation. Fine and just things vary in themselves; what is fine or just in some circumstances is not fine or just in others. In this case Aristotle may be referring to examples such as the one in Republic i (331cd) about justice and paying back what we have borrowed. I am assuming (b).

…

Similarly, if food is sometimes bad for us, it is not therefore simply a matter of convention whether food is ever good for us. Variation does not support conventionalism.” Though ethical generalizations are usual and inexact, they are neither useless nor unimportant.

(HOOKER, p.105-106)

 

The Usual

To see what Aristotle might mean by saying that ethical generalizations are usual, we must distinguish two kinds of regularities that he calls ‘usual. I will call these ‘frequencies’ and ‘norms, resulting in ‘frequent’ and ‘normal’ regularities. *12

(1) Sometimes, when Aristotle says that F is usually G, he means simply that Fs are Gs more frequently than they are not-G. Human beings, for instance, usually acquire grey hair as they age. This does not happen in every case, but it happens more often than not (APr (Prior Analytics), 32b4-10).

(2) Sometimes, however, ‘F is usually G’ indicates that the natural way for F to be is G, though sometimes F fails to be G. This is why nature includes the usual as well as the necessary and invariable ( GA (De Generatione Animalium), 770b9-17, 777a16-21, Met. (Metaphysics), 1027a8-15)

*12 See J. Barnes, Aristotle: Posterior Analytics (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2nd edn., 1993), 192; L. Judson, 'Chance and Always or for the Most Part" in Aristotle', in Aristotle's Physics, ed. Judson (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991), ch. 4. Since my use of 'normal' refers to norms, it is not the most common use in current English.

The difference between these two sorts of usual regularities is important; for only variation from the natural norm implies contrariety to nature. If some people live longer than usual, or their hair falls out before it goes grey, that does not mean that any of the teleological regularities specifying their natural course of behaviour has failed; Aristotle does not limit the natural so strictly that every variation from the most frequent counts as a freak or a deformity.*13

The generalizations that express these different sorts of regularities are differently related to observation of particular instances. The generalization that people go grey more often than not must simply be established (let us suppose) by observation; nothing in our general theory about human nature or the functions of human organs makes grey hair especially suitable.

(HOOKER, p.105-107)

Ethics and Variation

When Aristotle claims that ethics provides usual generalizations, does he primarily have in mind mere frequencies or natural norms? Does he recognize ethical principles parallel to the normative regularities of teleological biology? *16

Let us consider the example of wealth. Aristotle recognizes that wealth is not always, all things considered, good for everyone in every situation. But it is usually good, since it is good for those who use it correctly in normally favourable circumstances.

A similar point holds for bravery. In favourable conditions, bravery helps us to preserve and enjoy external goods. Brave people who have reasonable luck do better in preserving their lives and cities than cowardly people do, but the relevant conjunction of moderately favourable circumstances cannot be guaranteed. Similarly, part of the reason for valuing justice is the fact that in a just community we are respected for our justice, justice leads to greater harmony between different groups in society, and so on; but we cannot count on these favourable conditions. The connections between virtue and external goods ensure that virtue secures happiness in normal conditions; but the example that Aristotle gives here refutes the unrestricted claim that virtue ensures happiness.

*16 We can already see that some question about nature is in Aristotle's mind, if we look back at his remark about fine and just things. He remarks that some people argue from variation to conventionalism; they claim that nothing is just by nature, because they see that principles about justice have exceptions. We have already considered the discussion in Book V where Aristotle rejects this line of argument. He argues, as he argues in the biological works, that even if there are exceptions to general rules in nature, there is still a natural and normal condition; in fact he illustrates his point with a biological example (righthandedness, 1134b33-5; cf. PA 666b35-667a5).

In all three examples (about justice, wealth, and bravery), the usual generalizations that Aristotle alludes to are most plausibly taken to describe the normal situation rather than the most frequent situation. To see the connexion between these claims about ethics and Aristotle’s claims about the usual in nature, we must remember the connection between the usual and the natural. Aristotle believes that external goods are both good without qualification and good by nature (EE 1248b26-37). His conviction that they are good by nature does not depend on the conviction that most actual people in most actual circumstances actually benefit from them. It depends on his general theory about what is good for a human being.’ 7 In ethics, as in the study of animals, the usual regularities are important because they describe natural norms, not because they describe frequencies.

If, then, we examine these specific examples, we can see what kinds of usual regularities Aristotle primarily has in mind in his remarks about the inexactness of ethics. He is primarily thinking of norms rather than frequencies. He does not explicitly distinguish these two types of usual regularities in his different claims about the usual. But we must notice the distinction; for we should attend especially to the consequences of treating ethical principles as statements of natural norms.

(HOOKER, p.109-110)

 

Usual Principles and Ethical Science

Why does Aristotle think it matters that ethical generalizations are usual? He might give either of two answers: (1) He emphasizes this to warn us that we ought not to take ethical generalizations too seriously. They cannot claim the status of scientific principles, but should simply be regarded as summaries of experience. (2) He emphasizes this to warn us that we ought not to be deterred from taking ethical generalizations seriously; for they are still scientific principles, even though they have exceptions.

…

To decide between these answers, we ought to remember, first of all, that Aristotle cannot take all ethical generalizations to be merely usual.18 It is easy to compile a list of generalizations that do not seem to have exceptions. Happiness is everyone’s ultimate good; everyone’s happiness consists in activity of the soul in accordance with complete virtue in a complete life; it is always better to aim at the mean than to aim at either the excess or the deficiency; it is always better to be brave than to be cowardly; it is right to care more about fine action for its own sake than about honour.

…

If Aristotle is committed to many practically significant unqualified generalizations, he cannot consistently take his claims about the inexactness of ethics to rule them out. His claim that ethics states usual principles cannot mean that ethics states only usual principles; it must mean that ethics includes not only unqualified principles, but also usual principles.

 Why should we not say the same about ethics? 

I have emphasized these points because it is easy to suppose that Aristotle’s remarks about ethical generalizations imply a sharp division between the epistemic status of ethical principles and that of the principles of theoretical sciences. This supposition is quite mistaken. The fact that ethics relies on usual regularities does not distinguish ethics from natural science, as Aristotle conceives it; and so we have no reason to suppose that he takes ethical generalizations any less seriously than he takes physical generalizations.

…

The Ethics makes it clear from the beginning that Aristotle is looking for principles. He remarks that the road towards the principles is different from the road from the principles, and he insists that when we are on the road towards the principles, we must start from things that are better known to us.

…

The beginning of the Ethics, then, gives us good reason to believe that Aristotle takes some ethical generalizations, including some usual ones, to be principles, and therefore to be prior in the order of explanation, justification, and knowledge to the ethical beliefs that they explain. This conclusion counts against the view that Aristotle’s belief in the usual character of some ethical generalizations reflects any commitment to particularism.

(HOOKER, p.110-113)

Why are Ethical Principles Usual?

Aristotle does not suggest that the presence of usual principles in ethics simply reflects our ignorance or the incompleteness of our theory. He suggests they are ineliminable, just as he assumes that they are ineliminable in natural science. Why is this?

In natural science we have a choice between two explanations: (1) These usual regularities cannot be eliminated because the behaviour of matter is essentially indeterminate, so that exceptions to teleological generalizations cannot be exhaustively specified. (2) Aristotle’s preference for usual regularities indicates his belief in the importance of teleological regularities and the unimportance (for these particular purposes, though not necessarily for all purposes) of exceptions to them, even if we can specify all the exceptions.

The first explanation asserts that Aristotle affirms merely usual principles only because he believes that it is impossible to specify all the exceptions to teleological generalizations. The second explanation, by contrast, neither affirms nor denies that he holds this belief. It says that his holding it is not necessary for his affirmation of usual principles.

The two parallel explanations in ethics are these: (1) We cannot, even in theory, find all the qualifications that would be needed to formulate the appropriately qualified principles. (2) It is unwise, for practical purposes, to try to build all the qualifications into our principles, even if it is possible to build them in.

In natural science, the second answer is preferable. … To see whether the second answer is also preferable in ethical theory, we must consider whether the purposes of ethical theory make it reasonable to stick to usual principles. Aristotle insists that ethical theory—the discipline practised in his ethical treatises—essentially has a practical aim. The appropriate age for studying ethics is to be decided by considering the age at which this study is practically useful, ‘since the end is not knowledge, but action’ (1095a5-6). This practical purpose of ethics explains why we ought to be satisfied with principles that are stated only roughly. To demand more would be as misguided as a carpenter’s seeking geometrical precision about right angles (1098a29-31). Nothing about wood and right angles prevents carpenters from finding out how the right angles they try to produce in wood fall short of being true right angles; but it would be pointless to occupy themselves with these questions. Similarly, the practical purpose of ethics implies that we should not try to build in all the qualifications that we would need to add to find exactly correct principles.

Aristotle’s examples of usual principles suggest why we ought not to try to spell out all the exceptions. Virtuous people take the right attitude to wealth and to other external goods. They recognize that wealth is good without qualification, but not good for everyone, and they learn that virtue results in happiness in appropriate conditions, though not in all conditions without exception. It is more important to grasp these points about virtue, external goods, and fortune than to learn the more complex generalizations that would incorporate all the relevant exceptions to the unqualified generalizations.

Aristotle argues, then, that we need not list all the exceptions and qualifications that would replace our usual rules with exact generalizations. Nor should we take the usual rules any less seriously simply because they are usual. These usual principles will be useless to people who cannot guide their desires by reason, but useful to those who can guide desires by reason (1095a4-11). If I learn that brave action is always better than cowardly action, but that it only usually results in happiness, then I will not believe it is ever in my overall interest to prefer the cowardly action. My confidence in preferring the brave action will not be shaken if I recognize that in this particular case the brave action will not result in happiness for me. The combination of the universal and the usual generalizations about bravery and brave action will strengthen my confidence in acting virtuously; the same will be true for every other virtue. Our recognition of the usual character of some rules helps us to take them seriously; for we will not be disconcerted to find that they have exceptions.

If this is the point of recognizing usual principles, it does not imply that any special doubt or difficulty arises in deciding whether or not to do the brave action in this or that particular situation, or that something more than the theoretical principles is needed if we are to find the right thing to do in particular situations. Aristotle does not suggest, for instance, that the merely usual status of the generalization that bravery usually results in happiness ever gives us a good reason not to act bravely, or that we need any special exercise of perception to see that we must act bravely in this particular case where brave action will involve significant harm. These remarks on the inexactness of ethical principles do not support particularism.

(HOOKER, p.113-114)

 

 Conclusion

I have tried to show that the passages on prudence and perception do not require a particularist interpretation that assigns normative priority to perception. We might be tempted to accept a particularist interpretation of these passages, if we were already convinced that the passages on inexactness and on perception require a particularist interpretation. Equally, we might be tempted to accept a particularist interpretation of the passages on exactness and on perception, if we already believed that this is the only possible interpretation of the passages on prudence. The fact that several passages speak of particulars and of the necessity of perception reasonably leads us to interpret one group of passages in the light of the other group. I have argued that none of the three groups supports a particularist interpretation, so that none of them creates a presumption in favour of a particularist interpretation of the other groups.

For these reasons, the evidence I have discussed does not support a particularist view. In ethics as in natural science, Aristotle believes he can find theoretically significant generalizations. He also believes that in ethics his generalizations are significant for the primarily practical purpose of ethical inquiry.

(HOOKER, p.129)