Tag Archives: being

Aristotle’s Categories: Predication with Genus and Differentiae

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(See here for the previous posts on the Categories: Chapter 1, Chapter 2)

Aristotle’s philosophical writing, often opaque in style as well as content, can also venture into extended periods of intricate simplicity, innovating complexity and depth from a rather limited set of fixed, technical terms.  This is the case for much of the Categories, and chapter 3 certainly fits this description as well.  In this post, I will be continuing my quasi-commentary on Aristotle’s Categories, now arriving at chapter 3.

Whenever one thing is predicated of another as of a subject (ὑποκειμένου), as many things as are said of the thing being predicated, all of these will also be said of the subject. For example human is predicated of an individual human, and animal is predicated of a human. Therefore animal will be predicated of an individual human also. For an individual human is both a human and an animal.

 

Of the things differing in genus and not being subordinated to one another there are differentiae different in kind (τῷ εἴδει), for example, there are [distinct] differentiae of animal and of knowledge: footed, winged, water-dwelling, two-footed, and none of these is [a differentia] of knowledge. For [one kind] of knowledge does not differ from [another] knowledge by having two feet. Yet nothing prevents there being the same differentiae of the genera subordinate to each other. For the higher genera are predicated of the things said under them, so that as many differentiae as there are of the thing being predicated there will be of the subject as well (Translation mine, Categories 1b10-24). [1]

Aristotle begins this section with the confusingly worded, “Whenever one thing is predicated of another as of a subject (ὑποκειμένου), as many things as are said of the thing being predicated, all of these will also be said of the subject.”  Now the example that follows makes the concept he is addressing here rather clear.  If an individual human is a human, and if a human is an animal, then an individual human is an animal.  In this instance, using Aristotle’s terminology, the subject and the thing being predicated of is “the individual human,” while the thing being predicated is “human.”  (Keep in mind that I use quotation marks not to designate a mere linguistic term, but to clarify and distinguish the objects to which they refer.)

Aristotle next invokes language about genus and differentia (plural, genera and differentiae.)  Assuming that there are such entities we may roughly think of as “kinds of things,” designated as genera, then it follows that these things must be organized and distinguished from each other in some way.  For example, taking animal as a real genus, we can say that there are (at least) two “kinds”: birds and fish.  These two kinds of things, birds and fish, are each a species of the genus animal, and although they belong to the genus animal, birds and fish are distinguished from each other by differing in some salient way.  Possession of this differing property or properties, such as scales or feathers, is what makes the one animal (fish) differ from the other (bird).  Thus these properties are called differentiae.  Since this usage of genus is not to be confused with our modern classifications in biological nomenclature, we can freely apply the term genus to whatever level of kinds of things we wish.  With confidence in being philosophically consistent, in other words, we can also say that in addition to animal, fish is also a genus, with the differentiae of salt-water or fresh-water picking out two other species based on the difference of the type of water inhabited.  What Aristotle warns against in the second half of this text is being sloppy when it comes to distinctions made in one genus that do not apply to another, viz. knowledge and animal, where one applies two-footedness to knowledge.

 

REFERENCES:

[1] Ὅταν ἕτερον καθ’ ἑτέρου κατηγορῆται ὡς καθ’ ὑποκει- (10)
μένου, ὅσα κατὰ τοῦ κατηγορουμένου λέγεται, πάντα καὶ κατὰ τοῦ ὑποκειμένου ῥηθήσεται· οἷον ἄνθρωπος κατὰ τοῦ τι-
νὸς ἀνθρώπου κατηγορεῖται, τὸ δὲ ζῷον κατὰ τοῦ ἀνθρώπου·
οὐκοῦν καὶ κατὰ τοῦ τινὸς ἀνθρώπου τὸ ζῷον κατηγορηθήσε-
ται· ὁ γὰρ τὶς ἄνθρωπος καὶ ἄνθρωπός ἐστι καὶ ζῷον. (15)
τῶν ἑτερογενῶν καὶ μὴ ὑπ’ ἄλληλα τεταγμένων ἕτεραι
τῷ εἴδει καὶ αἱ διαφοραί, οἷον ζῴου καὶ ἐπιστήμης·
ζῴου μὲν γὰρ διαφοραὶ τό τε πεζὸν καὶ τὸ πτηνὸν καὶ τὸ
ἔνυδρον καὶ τὸ δίπουν, ἐπιστήμης δὲ οὐδεμία τούτων· οὐ γὰρ
διαφέρει ἐπιστήμη ἐπιστήμης τῷ δίπους εἶναι. τῶν δέ γε (20)
ὑπ’ ἄλληλα γενῶν οὐδὲν κωλύει τὰς αὐτὰς διαφορὰς εἶναι·
τὰ γὰρ ἐπάνω τῶν ὑπ’ αὐτὰ γενῶν κατηγορεῖται, ὥστε
ὅσαι τοῦ κατηγορουμένου διαφοραί εἰσι τοσαῦται καὶ τοῦ
ὑποκειμένου ἔσονται.

Aristotle’s Essence: τὸ τί ἦν εἶναι

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τὸ τί ἦν εἶναι is an odd phrase, common to Aristotelian diction, used when the philosopher wishes to speak about the essence of a particular thing. Most students translate the phrase as “essence” by rote, because they have not the faintest conception on how to penetrate the meaning of this four-word hieroglyphic.

Let us begin by discussing what this construction consists of at its most basic level. Fundamentally the phrase is an articular infinitive. Dr. Smyth tells us that, “The articular infinitive, while having the character of a substantive, retains the functions of a verb” (See Smyth, 2025 and following). The “character” of a substantive means that we are able to decline the infinitive as a neuter singular noun, if we place the appropriately declined definite article (τό, τοῦ, τῷ, τό) in front of it. Thus, τὸ ποιεῖν can be translated not merely as “to make,” but also as “making.” With this in mind, τὸ εἶναι, is “to be” or “being,” often simplified by most translators to “essence.”

This leaves us with the two inner terms, τί ἦν. First let us look at the imperfect ἦν. In Smyth 1901-1902 we are told that the imperfect can be used for the present tense. Liddell and Scott (εἰμί F. bottom of entry) inform us that ἦν is sometimes used as the present, corroborating the account given by Smyth. Liddell and Scott also make mention of Aristotle’s exact phrase, remarking that, “τὸ τί ἦν εἶναι expresses the essential nature of a thing.” Thus the ἦν is actually an ἐστί, at least for translation purposes.

The LSJ entry is further helpful in determining the meaning of τί ἦν as a two-word phrase. It points out that τί ἦν, in the phrase τὸ τί ἦν εἶναι, takes the place of a very similar articular infinitive, but with a dative phrase, such as τὸ ἀγαθῷ εἶναι, which can be seen in Prior Analytics 67b12 and De Anima 429b10. τί ἦν is therefore really (τῷ) τί ἦν. τί, of course, is the interrogative pronoun, “what.” The phrase τί ἦν means, “what is it?” or as an indirect interrogative, which it could also be, “what it is.”

Putting it all together in a different order we have, τὸ εἶναι “being,” (τῷ) τί ἦν “for what is it?” or as an indirect interrogative, “for what it is.” Very often when there is a dative with a verb like εἰμί, it is construed as a dative of possession, which can be translated as a genitive. We could translate τὸ τί ἦν εἶναι as, “The essence/being of what it is.” The mystery of the phrase is solved. We are nevertheless saddled with an uncharacteristically unwieldy phrase to describe a common Greek philosophical term.

I command you to ponder these things- Parmenides

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“It is necessary that saying and thinking actually are. For being exists, and
nothing does not exist. I command you to ponder these things. For I shut you out from this first inquiry; moreover since it is from this, on which mortals who know nothing wander, being two headed. For helplessness keeps straight the wandering mind in their breasts: and the dumb and likewise the blind are carried around, astounded and confused people, for whom being and non-being are considered the same thing and not the same thing, and their (i.e. of the dumb and blind) path turns back” (DK Frag. 6 :1-9).”

Χρὴ τὸ λέγειν τε νοεῖν τ΄ ἐὸν ἔμμεναι· ἔστι γὰρ εἶναι,
μηδὲν δ΄ οὐκ ἔστιν· τά σ΄ ἐγὼ φράζεσθαι ἄνωγα.
Πρώτης γάρ σ΄  φ΄ ὁδοῦ ταύτης διζήσιος <εἴργω>,
αὐτὰρ ἔπειτ΄  πὸ τῆς, ἣν δὴ βροτοὶ εἰδότες οὐδέν
πλάττονται, δίκρανοι·  μηχανίη γὰρ ἐν αὐτῶν
στήθεσιν ἰθύνει πλακτὸν νόον· οἱ δὲ φοροῦνται.
κωφοὶ ὁμῶς τυφλοί τε, τεθηπότες, ἄκριτα φῦλα,
οἷς τὸ πέλειν τε καὶ οὐκ εἶναι ταὐτὸν νενόμισται
κοὐ ταὐτόν, πάντων δὲ παλίντροπός ἐστι κέλευθος.

With the consideration that Parmenides wrote in hexameters, and that such works were often recited in public, and that Parmenides himself is portrayed by Plato as being present at such a recital of one of his own students [1], I approach this particular fragment differently than if it were merely a philosophical treatise, void of cultural context.
Saying, by existing, is a thing.  The “being-ness” of words is casually assumed by their very use, yet their use qua existence is unreflectively maintained, absent the awareness which appreciates even the possibility of the existence of words.  This “being-ness” of words is re-iterated for the uncognizant by the very fact that Parmenides is speaking words at them, at the audience.  We are incapable of thinking of non-existence.  For any thinking involves the thinking of a thought as thing, a thing which must exist to be a thing.  If it is thought, it is not a nothing, but a something, even if that something is merely a thought (i.e. a unicorn).  We can not think of non-being, for if we could, it would be a being we were thinking of, not non-being.

Therefore all is being.

 

[1] ἀναγιγνώσκειν οὖν αὐτοῖς τὸν Ζήνωνα αὐτόν (Parmenides 127c)
“Zeno himself was reading to them…”  A few lines later Parmenides comes in to hear the end of the reading.