METAPHYSICS AT CONCEPTION. PART I.

(Nota bene! Contrary to the general misconception, Aristotle didn’t call this branch of his philosophy “metaphysics,” but, rather, “first philosophy.” And of course he never used this superb Greek word himself. Yet, metaphysics is such a neat term to describe not just “what follows what” in Aristotle’s endless sequence of writings, but, far more importantly, the branch of general philosophy that goes beyond physics, ergo metaphysics.)

Plato and the pre-Socratics were fully engaged in what we call metaphysics, only they never used the word metaphysics, nor did the man who came after them (please, get this joke!) on whose account this term was later coined. We know of course that the man was Aristotle, and that “Metaphysics” refers to the collection of his treatises following his treatises on Physics in Aristotle’s Encyclopaedia of Knowledge. It is because of this rather convoluted reason that I have called the present entry Metaphysics At Conception, since this philosophical term, technically so much associated with Aristotle, was not really born in his lifetime.

Aristotle’s metaphysics includes a variety of subjects which could well be separated into several subentries, or a cluster of them, but currently intending just a brief walk through all these subjects I suspect that having four or five metaphysical entries would make my coverage of the subject four or five times larger than in a single entry, without adding anything substantial to the depth of treatment. In the next phase of my work, I intend to be more selective and at the same time more in-depth than right now, but so far, this is more like a stock entry serving more as a starting point for my future comment than as a philosophical reference for my reader’s edification. (I have subsequently developed my original comment much better than I had expected when I was writing the previous sentence, but still, as a general caveat for a sizable number of these entries, it has not lost its relevance.)

We start with Aristotle’s theory of universals that can be either very easy, or impossibly difficult to explain, depending on how deeply we prefer to go into it and where, if at all, we are willing to stop. The explanation of the term is provided by Aristotle in this succinct sentence: By the term “universal” I mean that which is of such a nature as to be predicated of many subjects; by “individual,”--- that which is not thus predicated. (On Interpretation, 17^a.) It is obvious that proper nouns qualify as individuals, while most common nouns and some classes of adjectives qualify as universals. Proper names are substances, addressed as “this”; universals are “such.” The latter cannot exist an-Sich, but only in their particulars. This is already a major deviation from Plato, whose “Ideas” exist by themselves, whereas in Aristotle they are caught up with their representations.

Should we attempt to go any further into the theory of universals, immediate problems with its consistency, and even common sense, are bound to arise, but it is already clear that Aristotle’s universals are a practical improvement on Plato’s ideas, inasmuch as the bond between the denotation and the denotees, which exists in our common sense, and does not in Plato, is substantially restored in Aristotle. But, mind you, I used the word ‘practical’ on purpose, to make a distinction between the immediate practical and general intellectual values, and I think that Aristotle’s practical improvement on Plato’s theory of forms, in no way diminishes the value of Plato’s thinking on this subject, which still possesses certain abstract dimensions, conspicuously lacking in the Aristotelian improvement. Plato’s precious dualism, distinguishing the two worlds, that is, of transitory everyday illusion, which is the world we live in, and the other one of everlasting absolute value, which we strive to end up abiding in forever, provides us with a philosophical metaphor for our innate longing, and immerses us into a welcome transcendence, where practicality fades out in the background.

Next, there is a special term, introduced by Aristotle into this theory, usually translated into English after its original Latin translation as “essence.” The exact Greek words used by Aristotle to describe it (yes, he uses more than one way of saying it!) are to ti en einai, the what it was to be, and to ti esti, the what it is. In my approximate understanding of this essentia, it is something like the DNA code of a thing, or what makes it what it is. A picture of a lizard seems to convey what lizard is, head, body, tail, and all, but a living lizard without a tail or a dead lizard without a head would still have the essence of lizard, while a fully endowed toy lizard would not. Here is an extremely interesting intellectual novelty, introduced by Aristotle, and its implications are countless, theoretically stimulating and practically provocative. For instance, when does the essence of a human being start? Clearly, before birth, but can it be right at the moment of conception? (The use of the word “conception” in the title of this entry has been an added bonus, which now makes the title irreplaceable.) On the other hand, is the use of the word clearly in the previous sentence really justified and so obvious? We may go on and on, but it should now become unquestionably obvious that his contemplation of what it is alone already makes Aristotle one of the greatest philosophers of all time.

…To be continued tomorrow.