Showing posts with label Aristotle. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aristotle. Show all posts

Sunday, November 28, 2021

Aristotle’s Administrations—Part 1

From his perspective of the varieties of governance he observed in ancient Greece, Aristotle described six different kinds of regimes that countries had or might establish. He listed them and then examined their respective advantages/disadvantages, weaknesses/strengths, and viabilities/failures. His categories still have relevance today.

Aristotle sorted his six regimes into two contrasting groups of three: those that function for the benefit of all citizens, and those that function primarily for the benefit of those who govern, or hold power. That is, he contrasted selfless regimes with self-serving regimes. In each case, the three regimes are ruled either by (1) one individual, (2) a small group, or (3) everyone.


His three regimes that rule for the benefit of all are (1) a monarchy (single ruler), (2) an aristocracy (rule of the few), and (3) a polity (rule of the many). (See table) Today we regard monarchies and aristocracies as heavy-handed forms of governance, but they could be ethical and even virtuous in Aristotle's time—if they truly had the welfare of citizens as their priority and actually benefited the populace; and at times they did.



One

Few

Many

Benefit all

Monarchy

Aristocracy

Polity

Benefit ruler

Tyranny

Oligarchy

Democracy


While a polity—rule by all for the good of all—is theoretically possible, it works only for small groups and can even be rather utopian, in that it supposes everyone must be unselfish and altruistic. A polity may have worked for small hunter-gatherer bands, for example, but by Aristotle's time a polity was virtually unworkable, due to the size of the citizenry. In fact, he concluded that all three types of regimes that function for the good of everyone were either utopian, or unrealistic, because the temptation for those in power to serve their own purposes was just too great.


So Aristotle's second group of three regimes—those that are ruled by and for the benefit of those in power are (1) a tyranny (single ruler), (2) an oligarchy (rule by a select few), and (3) a democracy (rule by many). As he looked around his world, these were predominantly the actual forms of government that he observed. They were neither utopian nor ideal, but existed—if often rather flawed.


The first type—rule by a tyrant who uses his power only for his own benefit—is clearly unacceptable, although all too common, even today. The populace is oppressed, harmed, and have no rights. The second type—rule by an oligarchy is far less problematic than tyranny, but can still spurn the welfare of citizens, as the oligarchs have their own interests in mind, not the masses.


Of the six types of regimes listed by Aristotle, democracy has been deemed the best option, because all citizens have some say in government, and they make decisions in their own interest. That was, in fact, the form of government essentially practiced in Athens, in his time. It is the form of government that the USA and many modern states argue that they have. It is regarded today as the best form of governance; although still too often flawed. As Winston Churchill once quipped, “democracy is the worst form of government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.”


The issue of creating a true democracy is, however, not that straightforward. It is not at all simple. In ancient Athens, for example, even though it was the Western cradle of democracy, all the people could not participate in governance. The only citizens that were allowed to participate were propertied males. Women and slaves were excluded. So Athens' form of governance was actually more like an oligarchy than a democracy, because only a minority of the populace governed. In fact, the Athenian oligarchs did not believe commoners should even have a say in governance, because they were ill informed and had no idea how to manage the city-state. Only those who had the education and experience were fit to govern, they believed.


Next time: Regimes today…


Thursday, August 26, 2021

Descartes' Denial

I have written before about how Aristotle's teachings in philosophy set a supreme standard that still holds today—2500 years later. His reputation is so firm and strong that he is often referred to as simply “The Philosopher.” His teachings on science (called “natural philosophy” in his time), however, were subsequently shown to be mostly wrong. Unfortunately, his status was so towering that his errors prevailed for two millennia. The fact that the Catholic Church's teachings aligned with Aristotle's ideas helped to extend his theories over that long period of time.

Rene Descartes, in the 17th century, began to speak out against Aristotle's scientific opinions. He was joined by the Irish scientist Robert Boyle, as well as several others. Both of them especially rebelled against the complex (and confusing) concept of “form,” which was championed by both Aristotle and Plato. Form, they believed, is the essential nature of something—a very abstract idea that says little about its particular qualities, and says nothing about what caused that something’s form.

Descartes and Boyle argued that the ancient concept of form is too vague and offers little help for allowing one to understand the important, causal physical properties of something, as well as how it behaves. They put forth instead what they called a corpuscular view of matter, proposing that all matter is constituted of tiny particles called corpuscles—a couple of centuries before the existence of atoms was proven.


They maintained that corpuscles move, bounce against, and connect to each other, and that their behavior is governed by the laws of motion—laws which had been expressed a few years earlier by Galileo Galilei. The Church tried one last shot at promoting Aristotle’s notion of forms, when a Jesuit, Francisco Sucrez, proposed that every object has a soul. Just as the human soul guides people from the inside, the soul of a tree guides its qualities from within and causes its form. It was a supernatural, not a scientific, explanation, however.


Descartes rejected this idea as even worse than Aristotle's teaching, because he was sure that inanimate objects could not have a soul. His—and Boyle's—idea was that the corpuscular theory provided a simple, mechanical world view. The activity of corpuscles drove the behavior of the parts of an object; it behaved like a machine. In fact, Descartes said that the body of living creatures is also like a machine, and does not require a soul.


Descartes soon displaced Aristotle, regarding the nature of matter. His and Boyle's ideas played a huge role in the scientific advances that occurred during the Enlightenment (late 17th, into 18th centuries). Nobody is perfect, however, and Descartes later expanded upon his views; saying that animals are machine-like and possess no soul, as humans do. He maintained that animals—being like machines—have no feelings, and do not therefore experience pain. It was another couple of hundred years before this concept was debunked—a period of time when physical harm to animals was deemed acceptable. As a result, we are finally beginning to treat animals with appropriate respect... well, except those we raise for meat.


Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Aristotle’s Science—Part 2

Aristotle had different scientific ideas than did his lesser-known contemporaries—and many of those ideas were simply wrong. He refuted Aristarchus, teaching that the Earth did not move and that the stars were permanent (the firmament). He badly misunderstood the motion of bodies and the influence of gravity. He taught that every body had a natural resting place and thus, for example, an arrow can keep flying only because the air it displaces moves behind the arrow and pushes it along. He essentially believed that scientific knowledge was complete at the time—that everything to be known about natural philosophy was in hand. He never put his scientific ideas to test by simple experiments, so they could not be proven wrong. The weight of their implied truthfulness, by the strength of his mind, carried the day.

Why did Aristotle’s erroneous scientific beliefs outshine and outlast the more accurate teachings of his Greek cohorts Herakleides and Aristarchus? Partly it was his gigantic reputation and partly the disciples who followed him. Aristotle founded the Lyceum, an academy that flourished for centuries and solidified his scientific ideas into rigid ideologies. Additionally, the Christian church later seized upon the Aristotelian dogma of an Earth-centered universe and added its weight to the belief. In contrast, Herakleides and Aristarchus were loners, whose more correct ideas died with them.

The result was that these erroneous Aristotelian scientific ideas got locked in for the next 1500 years. They held sway in Europe, into and through the Dark Ages—never getting challenged until Copernicus, Kepler, and Galileo began to rediscover and bring to light the truth. But all three of them paid the price for their teachings, as both the established scientific and Christian institutions’ doctrine that an unmoving Earth is at the center of it all had thoroughly ossified.

It makes me wonder how history might have been written, were it not for Aristotle’s dominant views of natural philosophy. How might things have unfolded if open inquiry into the physical nature of the cosmos had continued from Aristarchus? Copernicus, Kepler, and Galileo had to be extremely cautious about how they described their theories—lest the church lower its ecclesiastical boom. As it was, the first two deftly ducked, but Galileo got nailed.

It also shows that the history of science is not a logical, unfolding field of knowledge, which is tended by impartial, cool-headed people (sorry, Mr. Spock). It’s a lot more fascinating than that.

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Aristotle’s Science—Part 1

I’m reading a book entitled Debunking History: 152 Popular Myths Exploded. Its authors’ central theme is that commonly-accepted perceptions of historical events are often wrong. We come to believe a version of history that feels right—sometimes just because it’s been repeated so often. Or it is a simpler story of events than the complex reality. Or it fits the mindset of those who record history (which is written mostly by the winners).

Science is my background and I get fascinated by discovering the reality of scientific history—truths that either debunk accepted views or bring to light little-known incidents that steered science (and its part in human history) in the direction it eventually took. I also enjoy uncovering the truth about the foibles and humanness of well-known scientists of the past—people who are often misperceived as scrupulously ethical and dispassionate, as modeled by Mr. Spock on Star Trek; when they are often quite emotional and too often unprincipled.

An example of a revered ancient expert whose scientific contributions are often misunderstood is Aristotle. He is known and revered the world around as humanity’s first and greatest philosopher. He has often been referred to as simply “the philosopher.” No one’s reputation quite approaches Aristotle’s—and for good reason. The depth of his understanding in many fields of human knowledge was remarkable, and most of his penetrating insights into human behavior and conduct remain as valid as when he taught them, some 2300 years ago.

As a scientist, however, Aristotle’s legacy has been very problematic and even detrimental to our understanding of the natural world. In ancient Greece science (or physics) was called “natural philosophy.” Aristotle’s pronouncements on science were thus regarded as simply another branch of philosophy and his supreme reputation in philosophy brought unquestioned allegiance to his scientific teachings—most of which were simply wrong.

Prior to Aristotle’s entry on the Aegean scene (some 200-300 years before him), ancient Greece had been a thriving hotbed of learning. Pythagoras was at the center of the action then—achieving profound breakthroughs in mathematics and geometry. In fact, the word “philosophy” is Pythagorean in origin. Its archaic meaning is the love of and search for knowledge and wisdom. Pythagoras was the essence of a scientist: original in thought and meticulous in his observations. His ideas got exposed to experimental light, whenever possible. He laid the foundation for a rigorous kind of Greek science.

In the mode of Pythagoras, the duo of Aristarchus and Herakleides—both contemporaries of Aristotle—initiated the concept that the Earth and other planets revolved around the sun. This was a major departure from previous teachings of the Babylonians and Egyptians—whose more rudimentary observations and worldviews made them certain that Earth was at the center of it all. In contrast, Aristotle held to the older idea that we are at the center of the action and his reputation saw to it that his position prevailed.

More on Aristotle’s legacy next time…