We saw last time the ideal of knowledge
in Aristotle, but what is still lacking is the actual knowledge. Now,
whereas in Plato there was one overreaching question – how to live
a good life – governing whole of his philosophy, Aristotelian
philosophy was governed by several questions. First of them might be:
”what is there and what is it like?” The aim of of this question
was to find a vision of things and their essences: vision or theoria,
which is why this part of philosophy was known as theoretical.
The experience appears to suggest as
the first answer to the theoretical question that there are things
that change in a number of ways. As we have seen, this viewpoint had
been contested by Eleatics, who believed that there was only one existing
thing and therefore nowhere that a change could lead to. Aristotle
was quick to note that such a standpoint could not be properly
handled in a science that assumes the existence of change. Still, he
explained that Eleatic arguments could be understood as linguistic
confusions. Thus, even if there would be only one existing entity,
this entity could have a number of states, between which a change
could happen. Furthermore, the Eleatics had at least described this
supposed unitary entity with many terms: it was, for instance, either
limited or unlimited. Such a description was then something different
from the entity itself, and hence, in a sense even Eleatics had to
accept multiplicity.
Because Eleatic arguments could then be
ignored, we could accept the testimony of our senses and believe in
the existence of change. Change, furthermore, seems to involve the
existence of multiple states or things. A further question was then
how many features one had to assume in order to account for change.
Aristotle found Anaxagoras' theory of change insufficient. As we
should remember, Anaxagoras had merely pointed out that e.g. a change
of food to flesh could occur, because the constituents of flesh were
among the constituents of food. Anaxagoras could then just say that
constituents of everything were among constituents of everything
else: as Aristotle pointed out, this explanation explained really
nothing, because it didn't reveal what these constituents were.
Aristotle was then after a determinate
number of features involved in change. His predecessors passed onto
him two hints of these features. Firstly, many of earlier
philosophers had noted that all change happened between two extreme
states, like unity and multiplicity or hot and cold: indeed, all
change moves from one state to another. Secondly, especially
Platonists had assumed that the world of change was constituted by
two things: a disordered chaos and an unchanging source of order
regulating this chaos.
Now, Aristotle combined these two
insights. The first extreme state of any change could be identified
with some Platonic source or idea, or as Aristotle preferred to call
it, form: a change either started or ended with a state of having
some characteristic, such as the characteristic of being a doctor.
The other extreme would then undoubtedly be a state of not having a
characteristic. Platonic school had called this negative state
matter, but Aristotle thought this was more of a confusion. Plato had
not noticed a source of some characteristic could not affect a mere
lack of itself (e.g. a mere lack of a doctor cannot become an
existence of a doctor without anything to cause this generation of a doctor). Instead, change
presupposed that something changed and this subject of change
remained existent for the whole duration of this change: for
instance, a person who is not doctor might become a doctor through
proper education. This underlying thing that remained constant
throughout any change could then be regarded as a third element in
change, and indeed, this is what Aristotle preferred to call matter.
A certain type of change interested
Aristotle partircularly, that is, changes that happened, when things
were left to their own devices. Such changes could be called natural,
and because Greek word for nature was physis,
the study of these changes was called physics. Although the modern
physics is a descendant of Aristotelian physics, there are certain
clear differences. For instance, in Aristotle's physics it is the
biological changes that are especially paradigmatic.
As we might
remember from Aristotle's notion of sciences in general, any science
should try to determine four aspects of the things it studies.
Firstly, one ought to look for the conditions required for something:
in case of changes one of these conditions was that what remained
stable throughout the change or matter from which the result of the
change was made. Secondly, one should try to find out what is the
essence of what we are studying: in case of natural changes it is
especially the essence of the result of the change we are interested
in. Thirdly, one should try to ascertain what made the thing
investigated: in this case, what initiated the change. Finally, one
ought to find out what is the purpose of the investigated thing, and
in this case, the purpose of the change. Now, in case of biological
changes the aim of the change is often just to preserve the life of
the individual or its genus: thus, the purpose and the essence of the
change coincide. Furthermore, the initiating factor of the change is either
the living being itself or an individual of the same kind. Hence, one
could merely speak of two aspects in these cases – matter and
essence or form of the biological change – and Aristotle assumes
this is true of almost all natural changes.
Besides natural
changes, the things of nature are often affected by chance
occurrences. In such cases the occurrences themselves usually are
natural, but they have unexpected consequences: for instance, it is
natural that a stone falls down, but the falling stone may
accidentally also hit a person's head and kill her. Aristotle noted
that many earlier philosophers had believed all changes to be based
on mere chance: for instance, Empedocles had suggested that in the
past there had been generated accidentally all sorts of animals –
bulls with human head, for instance – and that only some had been
able to live and perpetuate their species. Aristotle noted that
although nature did show such chance occurrences, clearly all the
natural changes were somehow inevitable, unless some other
circumstances prevented them from happening. Yet, such changes were
not caused by some clockwork mechanism, because they clearly strived
for some end, like perpetuation of species.
What then changes
in general involve? According to Aristotle, all changes activated
some capacities inherent in that which changed: when I start to build
a bookshelf, the capacity of the planks and the nails to be
reconfigured in some manner is actualised, and when a leaf starts to
turn red, its capacity of being red is activated. Yet, in the state
of change this activating process is not yet complete: a leaf turning
to red is not yet completely red. Instead, the changing object has
activated merely its capacity of being potentially something: a leaf
turning to red is on its way to becoming red and is in a more
essential sense potentially red than it was before. Changes thus
differ from activities like seeing which has no other end except
seeing itself: a change moves towards some perfection, which is distinct from the change and in which the change itself ends.
Many of the
earliest philosophers had supposed that changes required some sort of
limitless source from which new thing could proceed – otherwise,
the changes would someday cease, when everything that could come to
be would have come to be. Aristotle noted that we need not assume
such limitless or infinite source of change, because changes could
keep on happening between different possible states: e.g. a same
object could constantly turn from red to green and from green to red.
Aristotle was generally quite sceptical of any infinities. Certainly
there were no infinite bodies, he insisted, because in an infinite
universe we would have no meaningful way to differentiate between
different directions and thus it would be senseless to say that e.g.
heavy bodies move downwards. Then again, infinity was an acceptable
concept, if it merely referred to some process being capable of
indefinite continuation. Thus, time could be infinite in the sense
that time could continue indefinitely, division of areas and lines
could continue ”infinitely” or indefinitely long – although in
a finite universe there could be only finite areas and lines – and
no number of objects was the largest (although there was a smallest
number).
Aristotle noted
that changes could be classified in different manners. In some cases,
what is said to change is not actually what changes, but it is only a
part of that which changes or a whole, part of which is changing:
thus, if a man is moving, his thoughts may be said to move with him,
or when an eye is healing, we may say that the body with the eye is
also healing. Yet, in all such cases there must be some primary thing
that truly changes.
Now, in some cases,
change involved a creation of a new entity or then a destruction of
something: when I build a house, the house itself did not exist
before the building. Aristotle noted that it was a controversial
question whether any true creations or desrructions truly occurred,
because in a sense, all changes must involve the continuation of
existence: new existents (houses) are generated from previous
existents (bricks) and not out of nothingness. Still, Aristotle
thought, we can speak of generation and destruction when a
substantial change happens, like when an elementary stuff is changed
into another sort of elementary stuff. Thus, a generation of one
substance involves always a destruction of another substance.
In most of the
changes, nothing is created or destroyed, but some feature of an
existing thing is altered. This feature might be a quality that is
not essential to the thing in question – like when a leaf turns
red. At other times even the shape of the thing might remain what it
is, but the quantity of the thing might change into bigger or smaller
– like when a balloon expands. In some cases no feature of the
thing changes, but the thing merely moves from one place to another.
Aristotle was also
sure that if we ignored creations and destructions, things could
change in a primary sense only in these three manners: qualitatively,
quantitatively or from one place to another. Things could still
change incidentally in other manners: thus, when all childs of a
person dies, the person also incidentally stopped being a parent,
although no change had happened to her personally. Particularly,
Aristotle thought that changes cannot be said to properly change or
come to existence or to be destroyed: otherwise, all changes would
involve an infinite number of other changes.
The possibility of
moving from one place to another suggests the question what places in
general are. Clearly a place is not a feature of the body in it:
otherwise, another object could not take the place of another (like
one leaf cannot take the colour of another leaf). Instead, the place
of an object is, primarily, the innermost surface of things embracing
the object in question: thus, the place of wine is the inner surface
of the bottle where the wine is situated. Secondarily, the place of
the object is then any place where any place of the object is
situated: thus, because the bottle is in the fridge, the wine may be
said to be in the fridge, and because the fridge is in the kitchen,
the wine is also in the kitchen. The ultimate place in which
everything then is situated is the outer fringe of the universe –
remember that Aristotle argued for the finity of the universe,
because otherwise we could not situate anything anywhere in a
meaningful way.
Although Aristotle
thus accepted the idea of an ultimate system of places or space, he
was not convinced that space could exist without anything to fill it.
Atomists had endorsed the idea of empty space, because they couldn't
conceive how anything could move without there being something empty
to which it could move. Aristotle noted that the movement could still
happen, if the things would just change their places with one
another. Furthermore, in empty space nothing could move, according to
Aristotle: all motion required some push from other objects, but in
an empty space nothing would push an object to move. On the other
hand, in empty space all things would move with infinite speed: speed
of a thing was, Aristotle suggested, proportional to the resistance
of medium in which the movement happened, but in a void with no
resistance, the speed would grow impossibly large. It is easy to
laugh at such deductions, when we know better, but the Aristotelian
notions of movement and space might seem more natural, if we knew
nothing of inertia.
In addition to
space, movement is also connected with time. Indeed, time appears to
be essentially related to change. Even if we were in a dark cave and
saw nothing happening, but something changed in our thoughts, we
could be certain that time went forward. Time is then, Aristotle
suggests, the act of counting out all changes and especially
movement: the moment of ”now” moves through various changes and
determines what happened before and after and at what rate. Although
the counting might be something we humans do, time itself is in
another sense not dependent of human beings, because the things
counted or the temporal processes would occur even without human
beings. Aristotle also suggests that a natural way to measure time
would be to use some cyclical and recurring process, like the
revolution of planets.
Aristotle was
certain from experience that spatial magnitudes form a continuum:
that is, e.g. volumes that are next to each other or that have
nothing between them have limits that touch one another and that
cannot be separated from one another. Aristotle concluded from this
definition of spatial continuum that it could not be formed of
indivisible points – if point would be continuous with another
point, their limits would coincide and be inseparable, and because
points have no other limits, but points themselves, the points would
actually be identical with one another. Indeed, two points cannot be
even immediately next to each other in space, because two different
points will have some line between them. Aristotle noted also that if
space was a continuum, motion through space must also be continuous
(otherwise a moving object could instantly move from one area of
space to another separate from the area it had occupied), if motion
was continuous, so also the passage of time (because time measures
all motions), and if passage of time was continuous, so finally all
changes (because time measures also other changes).
Aristotle's idea of
continuum was explicitly meant to show why Eleatic and especially
Zeno's proofs against the existence of motion were invalid. Zeno had
argued that an object couldn't move, because at any one moment it was
in some place resting. Aristotle answered that time does not consist
of moments, although it is limited by moments: when we divide a
process, we find just smaller processes, but no indivisible unit of
processuality. The so-called ”now” was then, according to
Aristotle, no part of time, but a limit between past and future
periods of time.
If Zeno's first
argument targeted the idea of motion as consisting of indivisible
moments, his other argument tried to combat the idea of continuous
movement and time by noting that it involved a movement through an
infinite number of points that would take infinitely time. Aristotle
noted that although space, moved through by an object, did contain the
possibility of being divided into smaller and smaller points with
evermore limiting points, these limits did not really stop the motion
for any time, unless the object stopped for a moment at such limit
point: but the motion would take an infinite time only if the object
stopped at every possible limiting point, because the smaller pieces
of motion take up smaller periods of time.
We have already
seen how Aristotle assumed the existence of changes. Furthermore, he
was certain that changes had happened always and would always happen:
indeed, because time was for Aristotle a measure of change, no time
without change could exist. In addition, changes could not have begun
from a generation of moving things, because all changes require
something existent: even changes where new entities are formed, such
as a construction of a chair, require some previous matter from which
the new entity is made. Finally, time of change could not be preceded
by a period of eternal rest of all entities: otherwise, there must
have been some object hindering the possible changes, and the
supposed first change would have to be preceded by the destruction of
this hindering element.
Then again,
Aristotle also was certain that not all things were changing at any
current moment. Qualitative and quantitative changes would end at
some time – becoming red when the changing thing had became red and
growing at least when the growing thing reached the size of the
finite universe. The only change that might continue forever would be
motion, but experience appeared to confirm that not all things were
moving: for instance, a stone might be restfully lying on the ground.
Finally, some things apparently start changing, while others stop
changing.
Aristotle also
thought it reasonable to assume that all moving and changing things
were moved or changed by something: either by some part of themselves
or something separate from them. In case of forced changes this seems
obvious, but unforced or natural changes seem a different case. Yet,
even natural changes (like the fall of a heavy object) could be said
to be caused by things that either changed the nature of the thing
changing (e.g. the thing that solidified moisture in the clouds to
snow that then would naturally fall down) or released the thing from
any hindrances to its natural motion (like a person sawing table legs
causes a table to fall down). Furthermore, even in the so-called
self-moving entities, like animals, one could separate between the
moving aspect and the moved aspect. Thus, all changes would be caused
by things other than the things changing.
The next question
would then be whether all moving things would be moved by some moving
thing or whether there could be movements and changes instigated by
something immovable: because Aristotle equated nature with the realm
of moving and changing things, this immovable would have to be beyond
nature. Aristotle approached the question by noting that a moving
thing can be said to move another thing only if the original moving
thing moves at the same time than the moved thing. Because the moving
thing would require then another moving thing to move it, there would
at the same limited time be an infinite number of moving things and
thus an infinite amount of motion. As Aristotelian universe was
limited, such an infinite motion during a limited time appeared an
impossibility to him.
Although the
consideration of such an unchanging cause of changes would indeed not belong in an investigation of changing things, one still must ponder
what sort of changes this primary initiator would cause. Because this
initiator does not itself change in any manner, it can initiate only
a change that occurs constantly and goes on continuously. Clearly
such change cannot be a generation of a new entity, destruction of an
old entity, change from one quality to another or growth or
diminution of an object, because such changes all have a final limit,
beyond which they cannot continue. Neither can it be movement in a
straight line, because in a finite universe, such a motion must
eventually stop. The only remaining possibility then is that the
primary initiator causes something to move around in a circle for
eternity.
Most of the things
Aristotle has discussed thus far are at the fringe of what nowadays
is called physics, and indeed, might be classified as
metaphysics.When Aristotle comes to more concrete matters, the more
dated his discussions appear. Still, it is worth to look at the
cosmology of Aristotle more carefully because of its long-lasting influence. Note that although later generations were to treat
Aristotle's natural philosophy as a fully completed system, it was
always more of a work in progress – thus, Aristotle knew that there
were many open problems, answers to which were merely speculated by
Aristotle and his followers.
We have seen that
in Aristotelian universe of changing things, some things change
sometimes, while others are in a continuous process of change, and
more particularly, move in circles. Aristotle explains the difference
between these two things by suggesting that the things moving in
circles are made of different stuff than the other things, namely,
from a stuff that naturally moves in circles. Because of the
continuous nature of circular movement, this stuff seems more primary
than other sorts of matter.
Aristotle feels
also convinced that there is only one sort of matter moving naturally
in circles: the circular movement defines this stuff. Still, there
can be places in which this stuff is more concentrated than in
others. Such spots appear to us as emitting light in comparison with
the other heavenly regions. Aristotle also suggests in some passages that these spots are living and perhaps even conscious entities.
Aristotle also
thinks that the world of the circularly moving stuff is divided into
different layers: this is his attempt to explain the astronomical
knowledge of his times. The outermost layer moves in a circle and the
concentrated spots are carried by the layer: these spots are what we
would call stars, which appear to move around the Earth in one day.
This layer and its denizens are the most perfect moving things.
Slightly lesser perfect are the spots moving in the inner laeyrs of
the circularly moving stuff. The layers themselves move around the
Earth, but the movement of the outer layers makes the spots also move
within their own layers: this causes the apparently erratic movements
of the planets. In the innermost layers the effect of the outer layers apparentyly twindles, because the layers moving the Sun and
the Moon move again in a simpler manner. Aristotle also connects this
structural difference of the layers with their corresponding levels of
perfection: the stars in the outermost layer achieve the highest
state of bliss through a simple movement, the planets require more
effort to achieve this state and the Sun and the Moon cannot even
achieve this level of perfection.
The circling
movement of the heavenly stuff requires some fixed point around which
it moves. This unmoving body should then be made of stuff that
differs from the heavenly stuff. Indeed, the immobility of the
central body or Earth is explained by the fact that the stuff which
it is mostly made of – earth – moves naturally towards the centre
of the universe: earth moves only when it is forcefully taken away from the center, and when it arrives at the centre, it stops moving.
The Earth differs
then from stars and planets, because it allows the movement of
bodies to stop. Indeed, the movements of earthly bodies seem to be of
many different kinds. Aristotle now believed that this multiplicity of
motions could be analysed through the motions of some simple sorts of
stuff, which would then form the primary division of bodies in the
centre of the universe. He also suggested that we should assume only
a small number of such sorts of stuff or elements. Especially one
should not think that there are infinitely many elements: the
elements are to be differentiated by their characteristics, but there
is only a limited number of elementary characteristics. Then again,
one element is not sufficiecnt for explaining the existence of all
the various phenomena in the world. Thus, we should choose a limited
number of basic elements that would be differentiated by different
characteristics.
We have already
seen how Aristotle needs at least one sort of earthly stuff that
moves towards the centre of the universe. Then again, he also points
out that some things appear to move away from the centre,
particularly fire that always move upwards. Between these two stuffs,
earth moving always downwards and fire moving always upwards, there
appears to be a stuff moving upwards, except when fire stops it – the
air – and a stuff moving always downwards, except when earth stops it
– water.
Aristotle also
describes the relation of the four earthly stuffs or elements in terms
of what he describes as basic qualities. The elements can be
classified, firstly, according to the capacities of action that they
have. Some things are hot, that is, they separate mixed combinations
into their constituents and generally activate natural processes
inherent in other things. This quality of ”hotness” appears to be
associated with the upward movement: air and especially fire are hot.
The opposite quality of ”coolness” – the capacity for combining
various consituents and generally of hindering natural processes –
is then linked to the downward movement of earth and water.
Aristotle also
notes a second way to classify elements according to their capacities
of receiving effects from other things. The extreme elements or fire
and especially earth are dry in the sense that they have a definite
shape, but are not easily malleable, while the mediating elements of
air and water are moist in the sense that they have no definite
shape, but are easily malleable.
Other qualities of
elements and of their combinations should then be definable in terms
of the four basic qualities. Thus, in a solid object the quality of
dryness preponderates and similarly in a liquid object the quality of
moistness preponderates.
It is the four
primary qualities that actually define the basic elements,
and what are usually called earth, water, air and fire are in fact
only states of these elements. Particularly the hot and dry element
is not always flaming, but could exist as a sort of dry gas, although
it is the one most easily flammable: the meteors and comets Aristotle
interprets as such inflammations of the hot and dry element.
Aristotle noted
that the four earthly elements he had described do appear to change
into one another: e.g. when water is applied to fire, a piece of
earth is left behind, and when water is heated by fire, vapour or air
is generated. In addition to such transformation, the elements can
combine and so form more complex entities. The change of earthly
things is thus accepted by Aristotle, but what originally instigated
such changes? Aristotle's answer is that the earthly changes must
eventually be caused by the movement of the heavens and particularly
the closest spheres carrying the Sun and the Moon around the Earth.
By themselves, the
four elements would in time move into their corresponding layers and
remain stable for eternity. The movement of the spheres mixes the
different layers, which thus form more like a continuum of different
combinations of elements. For instance, atmosphere is formed of both
dry and hot or ”fiery” element and moist and hot or ”aerious”
element. When the dry air preponderates, the weather is windy, but
when the moist air preponderates, clouds are formed and it begins to
rain. Sometimes dry gas gets trapped in a cloud, and when it is
released, it creates a loud noise called thunder and perhaps bursts
into a flame called lightning. Similarly, earthquakes and volcanoes
are explained by the dry gas being trapped within the Earth's crust.
The combination of
the four basic elements produces then various natural substances.
Aristotle never managed to give a detailed classification of all such
combinations, but his examples suggest that the analysis of
particular substances would have been based on the qualities of the
substances in question. Thus, compounds of earth and water with earth
in a predominating magnitude are dry and so become solid when heated,
while compounds with water in predominating magnitude become solid
when frozen. Neither of these things happens to olive oil, so
Aristotle concludes that it is actually a combination of air and
water.
The combination of
elements leads first to substances that do not appear to consist of
smaller parts, when the elements mix completely with one another.
From such substances then more complex material structures are
formed. The most intriguing composed things are undoubtedly living
things, and indeed, Aristotle and his followers did spend much time
in observing the compositions and behaviours of various plants and
animals, thus beginning the sciences of botany and zoology. Aristotle
even suggested some preliminary classifications of living things, for
instance, he suggested that living things formed a hierarchy from
less to more perfect. Yet, he offerred no complete classification and
he was definitely against any a priori division of living things: one
could not e.g. start in the Platonian manner from a notion of living
being and by a constant division into two parts reach all the
individual species.
Yet, even after
observation and classification of living beings, it still remains
uncertain what being alive actually means: what makes certain complex
entities e.g. move about on their own accord? Aristotle did not
believe that such liveliness would be caused by a separate element –
material or immaterial – that could be used to fill bodies, like
soup fills a bowl. Liveliness is not also, says Aristotle,
identifiable with a single, harmonious state where elements would be
mingled with one another in a certain proportion. In fact, the body
would, according to this theory, stop being alive at once whenever a
human being would fail to find this harmony.
Liveliness is then
to be found in a process of living that structurises the passive
materials into a living being. What is important in a living being is
then the structure that the individual process of living tries to
actualise. The materials used might be important in a secondary
sense, namely, if the process of life requires certain type of
material: for instance, if a living being creates a hard shell around
its innards, it can use only hard enough substances for this purpose.
A living being,
like a plant, has then a capacity to do certain things, such as
nourishing itself when in contact with suitable material. The
nourishment enters the living being through its superior part, which
in the highest creature or man points towards the most superior parts
of the world, and after the living being has appropriated the
material it requires, it drops out the unrequired residue. Aristotle
emphasises that it is the process of life that is active in the act
of nourishment, while the nourishing material is just a means for
rejuvenating the passive materials constituting the living entity.
Aristotle also
connects the structure of life with his theory of material elements
and basic physical qualities. Because heat means the capacity to
activate natural processes, living beings as active must be warm
rather than cold. But similarly living beings must be moist, because
dry objects do not easily change their state, whereas living beings
must do this. Thus, a living being must remain warm and moist, and a
living entity which fails to retain its natural moistness and which
secretes lot of liquid will probably not live very long.
The source of the
heat activating the processes of life can then be regarded as the
primary source of life. This source resides in the centre of the
living thing, for instance, in the heart of a human being. The heat
in animals together with their intestines reshapes the food in a form
capable of nourishment (the plants do not require such reshaping,
because they receive their nourishment in a form directly enjoyable).
The final form of the nourishment in the more perfect animals is
blood, which is by itself a cold substance, but as animated, acquires
heat and then feeds and activates the whole body.
Although heat is
central to living, a living being cannot live on mere heat, because
mere heat by itself would finally quench itself, just like fire is
finally extinguished when it has burned its fuel up. Thus, a living
being must also control its heat and cool it in some manner. This is
especially true of blooded animals, because animated blood is quite
hot. In many blooded animals this happens through respiration, which
uses air to cool the body: the exception are fishes that are cooled
by the surrounding water. Another source of cooling in animals,
according to Aristotle, is the brain, which is supposedly made of
cold elements.
Beyond nourishing
themselves, most living things can also produce other living beings
and thus mimic the eternal movement of stars. Note that Aristotle
thinks that not all living things are capable of reproducing. Some
species that mix the characteristics of both plants and animals, like
starfishes, are generated spontaneously from lifeless matter: a
certain type of hot air is capable of instigating a process of life,
e.g. in seas where all sorts of materials required for living are to
be found. The results of such spontaneous generation cannot produce
any offspring themselves – or at least they produce only imperfect
offspring, incapable of any further generation.
Plants, according
to Aristotle, generate individually, because of their simplicity. In
the higher animals generation requires two individuals. One of them –
the male – can develop its blood into a form that is capable of
generating new living individual, when suitable material is given.
This generating agent is semen, a substance generated out of blood
and resembling oil in being a foamy mix of water and the
forementioned hot air, but also with the capacity of becoming a
living animal with sensations and motions.
The material for
the semen is provided by the female, who is inferior, says Aristotle,
and cannot produce any semen by herself. Instead, the female has an
abundance of blood that can be enlivened by semen: if the blood is
not used for producing a new living being, it will leak out in
menstruation. Just like semen has the capacity of becoming a living
animal, the blood in general has the capacity to become alive. After
copulation, the semen activates the life of the blood in the woman
and creates the central point or the heart, around which the new
animal is generated. If the semen can completely control the material
it uses, the resulting animal is a male of its kind, capable of
producing new semen, and resembling its father. The loss of control
means that the animal generated will fall short of perfection: it might be a
woman, it might resemble an individual of earlier generation, or in
worse case, it might completely fail to have the structure of its own
kind.
Living things are
not all of the same type, but form a hierarchy according to their
capacities, and thus, different animals are generated in different
manners. Very cold – that is, very passive – and very dry –
that is, very inflexible – animals can only produce quite imperfect
offspring that still require some development outside the generating
animals: the offspring might be an egg that still grows before
turning into a true animal, like with fishes, or even worse, a mere
larva that still requires turning into an egglike cocoon before
developing into an animal, like with insects. A more active, but
still inflexible animal, like bird, can produce a hard egg, which
needs not grow itself before turning into an animal; on the other
hand, a more flexible, but still passive animal, like shark, can
produce a soft and fragile egg, which the animal can turn in its own
body into an animal. Finally, both active and flexible animals, like
human beings, can produce full animals on their own.
In addition to
methods of generation, Aristotle suggests various ways to classify
living beings. For instance, plants live through earth, while higher
animal life is based on air. Living beings that share characteristics
of both animals and plants live in water, which is the element
situated between air and earth. Aristotle also hints that Moon might
be a home to life based on the fourth element, fire.
A more important
differentiating factor is the capacity of sensation. While plants can
only regenarate themselves and their species, animals have also the
capacity to receive affections from their environment. That is, not
to be affected by material things – plants are also affected in
this sense – but merely by their outward structure. For instance,
through vision an animal is affected in one way by visible or
coloured things, in another way by an absence of visibility or
darkness and in a third way by an overabundance of visibility or
brightness. Usually the senses of the animals are situated at one
side called front, which is also the direction to which the animals
generally move.
Aristotle thinks
that all sense affections require some mediating element, for
instance, visible things are mediated by light and sounds and smells
by air. Touch and taste Aristotle thinks to be peculiar in that the
mediating element is actually a part of the body, that is, flesh and
tongue. They are also the most primary forms of sensation, because all
animals must be able to feel tangible things and to taste what they
are eating. The flesh and the tongue both require some protection:
some animals have a hard shell encasing the soft flesh, while others
have hard bones keeping the flesh together, and the tongue is hidden
behind lips and teeth.
Vision, hearing and
smell, on the other hand, are required only by animals capable of
movement, which need to sense things from far away. Smell is of these
the closest to the contact senses, and indeed, smell and taste are
closely connected. Just like tastes have a role in eating, smells
vigorate, but only suitably developed animals. Colours, finally, are
according to Aristotle the truest form of sensation there is: while
e.g. speech of a person may be distorted by the air, the sensed
colours should be at least close to how the object itself is
coloured. Thus, when two colours form a new colour, the objects
having these colours have also been combined into one object.
While some of the
affections occur only in one sense, some, such as movement, are
common to many senses. Thus, in addition to colours, sight can be
used for sensing that a thing moves. In addition to such common
sensibles, we may sense in a more figurative way more complex things,
just like we can see an anger in a person, when we interpret him to
be angry because of certain expressions we literally sense. Aristotle
also thinks that the general capacity of sensation reveals not just
characteristics of other objects, but also characteristics of
ourselves. Thus, through vision we sense not just colour of apples
and plumes, but also the fact that we are currently sensing apples
and plumes. Aristotle also suggest that the central capacity of
sensation lies at the same place as the source of the animal life,
namely, at its heart.
When the general
capacity to sense is temporarily nullified – e.g. through a certain
phase in digestion, Aristotle suggests – the animal enters a state
of sleep. Although the sensing proper has stopped, there might still
be afterimages or dreams left from the daily events. An animal might
even have a better view of his own bodily condition and dream about
its possible ailments, because in a dream state the normally minimal
signs of sickness are amplified.
In addition to
sense, some animals have a capacity for, as it were, perceiving
images of things that are not there. This capacity might be a cause
of delusions, but it also allows the animals to consider possible
outcomes of different processes. Furthermore, this capacity makes the
animal capable of remembering previous events. Developed animals
could even consciously regulate what they happen to remember through
different mnemonic devices.
This capacity of
imagining is closely connected with the ability of an animal to move
itself for the sake of something. Indeed, without the capacity to
remember and ponder possibilities, the animal could not do anything
purposefully. This ability to move itself or act is still not
completely independent, because it is instigated by something beyond
the animal, namely, the desired conclusion of the action. The animal
senses or imagines that something is the case and then instantly
notes how to obtain what it wants. All this should happen at the
centre or the heart of the animal, and from there the impulse to
change the state of the body begins. Particularly the impulse to move
goes from heart to the joints that move the limbs with the aid of
immovable earth. Just as nourishment differentiates between the
superior and the inferior parts and sensation between the front and
the back, the movement supposedly differentiates between the right
and the left: animals begin the movement with their right side.
The highest
capacity of a living being is reserved, according to Aristotle, to
the highest form of living being, that is, humans: Aristotle even
hints that this capacity is transplanted into a generated human being
from a source external to the parents. Humans have the capacity to
consider not just sensed characteristics, but all sorts of structures
in their thinking. Thinking person is then just like a universal
capacity for considering all possible things there is to consider.
This capacity also gives humans more powers in their deliberation
over what to do: they can reason what is truly worth a deed. Beyond
this passive capacity, Aristotle suggests, there exists an activity
that arouses different structures for the passive capacity to think.
This activity, Aristotle thinks, is not anymore capable of change,
but exists in a higher realm than mere physical world of variability.
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