There is perhaps no idea in the history of western ontology with a more powerful legacy
than Aristotle’s conception of ousia. Traditionally construed, "ousia"
stands for the primary, foundational principle of being. It can be said that ontology has
historically been ousiology – the search for ultimate foundations. In this quest for
ultimates, the ousia names the absolute arche, the foundational principle
that reigns over and orders all being. The political tone of this formulation is
intentional; it is designed to frame the ontological question concerning the meaning of ousia
in ethico-political terms. The impetus behind this strategy is to suggest that western
ontology has been largely determined by an authoritarian tendency that seeks to establish
a single ultimate principle in order to secure a firm and certain foundation. On the one
hand, this authoritarian tendency may be traced back to Aristotle, for ousia is
precisely such a hegemonic principle; on the other hand, Aristotle also suggests another
conception of ousia, one that can be drawn upon in the attempt to resist this
authoritarian tendency. In what follows, I trace both the authoritarian and this resistant
conception ousia in Aristotle.
Aristotle’s
Authoritarian Ontology
To apply the political term "authoritarian" to an ontological account may at
first seem to be a simple category mistake. However, this first impression fails to
recognize that many of the terms that have come to take on exclusively ontological meaning
are saturated with ethical and political connotations: for example, "arche"
means "ruler" and "political office" as well as "beginning"
and "principle;"(1) "ousia," can
mean "property" or "that which is one’s own," as well as
"being" or "substance" (Liddell and Scott 1968, 1274-5);(2)
even the term "katagoria," from which we derive "category," has
political significance insofar as it means to accuse someone of being something or other
in a public place (agora).(3) From its beginning,
ontology has always intimately related to ethics and politics.
The authoritarian tendency in Aristotle’s ontology is perhaps most perspicuous in
book XII of the Metaphysics, where he turns his attention to the highest, most
honored and most authoritative principle of all, the principle that provides his ontology
with its ultimate order: the first immovable mover (to proton kinoun akineton)
(1074a37). The political nature of this conception can hardly be questioned. In a famous
passage at the end of book XII, Aristotle establishes an analogy between this highest
principle and the general of an army. Here, he asks if the whole has the highest good as
something existing separately by itself or in the order of its parts:
Or does it have it in both ways,
as in the case of an army? For in an army goodness exists both in the order and in the
general, and rather in the general; for it is not because of the order that he exists, but
the order exists because of him (1075a13-16).(4)
The order of the universe is like that of the army; it is ultimately dependent upon the
authority of the first mover, the general of the universe. There are two basic
characteristics of the first mover that testify to this absolute authority. The first is
its causality, the way in which it orders; the second is its absolute autonomy.
Assimilation
Aristotle explicitly grants only one kind of causality to the first mover: the kind of
final causality endemic to the desired object (1072b3-4).(5)
For the most part in Aristotle there is no movement without some counter-movement (Ross
1924, II, 374).(6) However, the causality of the desired
object is an exception, for it is capable of moving others towards it without itself being
affected in any manner. It is this asymmetry, the lack of reciprocity that causes
Aristotle to characterize the first mover as an object of desire (to orekton)
and thought (to noeton), for such objects cause movement without themselves
being moved (1072a26-28). The nature of this causality may be designated as
"assimilation," for all being desires to be like the highest principle, and this
desire brings the world into conformity. Thus, the first mover gives the world its order
by being that for the sake of which (hou heneka) everything moves – nothing
escapes the influence of its assimilating force. It is the ultimate principle, the one
authority towards which all is ordered (1075a19-20).
Autonomy
Closely related to Aristotle’s conception of the causality of the first mover is
his understanding of its manner of existence. The first mover is understood to be pure
activity (entelecheia), devoid of all potentiality; for if the first mover was in
any sense potential, not only would it be possible for it not to exist (1050b7-ff.), but
also, its very existence would wear it out, for it would constantly need to overcome its
potency (1074b28-9). This lack of potentiality indicates both the autonomy of the first
mover and its absolute authority; for there is no other principle that can challenge it.
In order to secure this absolute status for the first mover, Aristotle has to argue for
its immateriality, for matter presents a challenge to the authority of the first
principle. Thus, Aristotle states in no uncertain terms:
But things which are many in
number have matter; for the formula is one and the same for the many, as in the case of
the formula (logos) of a man, while Socrates is only one. But the primary essence
has no matter, for it is actuality [to de ti en einai ouk echei hylen to proton,
entelecheia gar]. Thus, the first immovable mover is one both in formula and number;
and so that which is always and continuously in motion is only one (1074b34-39).
This passage is important for two reasons: first it expresses Aristotle’s
unequivocal position that the first mover is utterly devoid of matter. This allows him to
affirm the simplicity of the first principle and thus, its authority; for once matter is
rejected, there is no other principle that can possibly challenge or resist its absolute
hegemony.
The second important dimension of this passage is the manner in which it distinguishes
between the identity of the first mover and the identity of Socrates. Socrates is one
because of his matter, that is, his matter individualizes him (1034a7), even though he has
one and the same definition (logos) in common with that from whom he came. However,
the first mover is singular, it does not share its logos with anything else. Here,
Aristotle employs the terms "to ti en einai" and "entelecheia"
to designate the sort of identity endemic to the first mover. While these terms ostensibly
suggest the dynamic nature of the first mover, the virtue of this ultimate
principle for Aristotle lies in its static nature – that it can cause motion
without itself being moved, that it is eternal, separate and constantly present. Only in
this way, it seems, does Aristotle think it is possible to account for the ultimate order
of things.
However, in the middle books of the Metaphysics Aristotle also employs the
terminology of "to ti en einai" and "entelecheia" to
determine the nature of the identity of sensible ousiai like Socrates or Callias.
The equivocal use of these terms opens up the space for a different conception of
identity, one that genuinely deserves to be called "dynamic" because it refuses
to reduce all being to a single immovable principle. Here, no absolute ultimate is
possible, for the nature of the identity of sensible ousiai must be such as to
allow for change, and specifically for generation and corruption.
Aristotle’s
Dynamic Ontology
In the middle books of the Metaphysics, Aristotle develops the vocabulary of
"to ti en einai" in order to account for the identity of sensible
substances. While this formulation gains pride of place in traditional western ontology by
means of its Latin translation, "essentia," the simple term
"essence" fails to capture the nuances of Aristotle’s Greek. Specifically,
the Latin translation obfuscates the historical dimension of to ti en einai. I will
emphasize this dimension of the term so as to suggest a more dynamic understanding of the
Aristotelian eidos, an understanding that, when combined with the teaching that
matter must be recognized along with form as a determining factor in the identity of
sensible beings, can be exploited in the attempt to establish a conception of identity
that resists the authoritarian tendency. Rather than locating the ultimate ground of his
ontology in the static figure of the immovable mover, here Aristotle attempts to think the
being of sensible ousiai dynamically as the relation between form and matter.
The Historical Dimensions of to ti en einai
The formulation "to ti en einai" is historical in two senses. First,
it implicitly points to the legacy of Socrates, and thus, to an important moment in
Aristotle’s own philosophical history. Aristotle names Socrates as the originator of
the way of thinking designated by this formulation. It was he who was the first to seek
the "ti esti," the "what is it?" or definition of things to
which the most appropriate answer was given by telling the ti en einai – the
"what it was for something to be." Each time Aristotle recognizes Socrates as
the first to seek universal definitions in this manner, he is at pains to differentiate
the Socratic position from that of the Platonists. Thus he writes: "But Socrates did
not posit the universals as separate, nor the definitions; these thinkers [namely the
Platonists] regarded them as being about other things, separate from sensible things, and
called such things ‘Ideas’" (1078b30-32).(7)
This difference was, for Aristotle, vital; for while he follows his teacher, Plato, by
affirming the ontological significance of forms, he does not believe that these forms
exist in strict separation from the sensible beings for which they are ontologically
responsible. This hesitation to affirm absolute separation already hints at the
possibility of looking to Aristotle’s account of sensible substance for a view
different from and opposed to the authoritarian ontology of the first mover.
The second sense in which "to ti en einai" must be understood as
historical is announced by the little word "en." The precise explanation
of this, the imperfect form of the verb einai, "to be," has been the
object of much speculation. Many argue that it is to be understood as the so-called
"philosophical imperfect" which indicates an ontological priority rather than a
temporal distinction (Frede and Patzig 1988: I, 35).(8)
While I agree with the basic tenor of this position and affirm that the imperfect
indicates a certain sort of ontological priority, the historical dimension of the word
must not be denied; for it is precisely this historical element which gives the concept to
ti en einai its ontological significance. Those beings that have a to ti en
einai, an essence, are historical beings; they are beings with histories. Thus, part
of the answer to the what is it? question is sought in the to ti en einai,
the "what-it-was-for-something-to-be." If this ambiguous reference to the
historical past by means of the imperfect endemic to the term to ti en einai is
permitted to be held, the philosophical significance of to ti en einai comes into
focus: it points to the preservation of what has come before in the very existence of the
being itself. What it means for an ousia to be is to exist as this being with this
history. This historical dimension is completely lacking in Aristotle’s authoritarian
ontology, for the first mover is absolutely ahistorical, it neither comes to be nor passes
away.
The Irreducibility of Matter
Aristotle’s ability to affirm the absolute presence of the first mover is based
upon his explicit rejection of the possibility that it has matter. With matter comes the
possibility to be otherwise. To introduce such a possibility into the highest principle is
to undermine its absolute authority. The impetus behind Aristotle’s unequivocal
rejection of matter is an unwillingness to challenge this authority, a challenge that
would call into question the very order of things. However, it is otherwise with
sensible substances, for by nature sensible beings come to be and pass away. This is
because sensible beings have matter by nature, that is to say, they are like the snub: the
what it was for them to be, their ti en einai, includes matter (1026a1-5).(9)
In Metaphysics VII, 7-9 Aristotle takes up the question of the ti en einai
of generated beings.(10) What is important about these and
the chapters which follow, namely VII, 10-11, is that they affirm the irreducibility of
matter in the attempt to offer a definition of such beings. Nowhere is this stated more
clearly than in VII, 11, when Aristotle writes: "Thus, to lead all things up to a
higher level (anagein) and to take away the matter is a useless effort [periergon],
for surely some things exist as a this in a that or as having that in such a manner"
(1036b22-25).(11) In denying that generated ousiai
can be defined exclusively in terms of form, Aristotle hints at a conception of
ontological identity fundamentally different from that offered in this discussion of the
first mover. Whereas he had established the ultimate authority of the immovable mover by
unequivocally rejecting the material principle, here he affirms the decisive role the
material principle plays in establishing the ontological identity of sensible ousiai.
The structure of such a conception of identity is fundamentally different from that of the
identity of the first mover, for by affirming the material principle, Aristotle attempts
to think identity in terms of the irreducible tension of the relation between form
and matter. Matter resists assimilation; it is that principle in Aristotle that cannot be
co-opted by the ultimate authority. It alone stands against the hegemony of the absolute eidos.(12)
The nature of a conception of identity that holds the tension between form and matter is
dynamic in a deeper way than is the identity of the first mover which moves others while
remaining itself unmoved. In the former conception neither principle remains unaffected
and yet a strong identity arises; for indeed, Aristotle has always understood beings like
Socrates and Callias as having a very strong identity.(13)
Dynamic Identity
Aristotle considers the problem of the identity of such individuals at the end of Metaphysics
VIII, when he asks "What is it, then, that makes a man one, and why is he one and not
many …?" (1045a14-15). He then suggests that if form and matter are
reinterpreted as actuality (energeia) and potentiality (dynamis)
respectively (1045a23-25) and if the ti en einai of each being is understood to be
the cause of its identity (1045a30-35) a possible answer emerges. Once this
reinterpretation is established, Aristotle asserts that: "[…] each thing is a
kind of unity, and potentiality and actuality taken together exist somehow [pos] as
one" (1045b16-23). These are strange words indeed! Obviously much is riding on this
little word pos, "somehow." Indeed, the project of book IX may be
conceived as an attempt to determine the precise nature of this pos, that is, it is
an attempt to think the meaning of ousia as the dynamic identity between form and
matter, energeia and dynamis.
In order to explain this identity, Aristotle establishes the distinction between a
motion (kinesis) and an activity (energeia, entelecheia). He
indicates that the structure of kinesis provides only an analogy for the way
form and matter are to be thought together.(14) According to
Aristotle, building a house, losing weight, or learning from a teacher are examples of
motion because the end of each motion remains external to the motion itself – such
motions are essentially incomplete (1048b25-ff.).(15) Thus,
once the process of building a house is completed, its end has been reached and the motion
comes to a stop, it ceases to be. During the process itself, its end exists only
externally, in the mind of the builder. Thus, the beginning (arche) and end (telos)
of the process provide the two static positions according to which the motion is
determined. On this model, the identity of potentiality and actuality is not
thought – for so long as the bricks and stones lie in a heap, they are only potentially
a house, however, once the process of building is completed, the house exists in actuality
and no longer in potentiality.
In contrast to this model, Aristotle offers the notion of activity or action which is
variously designated in Greek by the words energeia, entelecheia, and praxis:
[…] since that which loses
weight while in motion does not have that for the sake of which its motion exists, such an
action is not an action [praxis], or at least it is not complete, for it is not an
end. But the end and action belong to that other kind. For example, one is seeing and at
the same time one has seen [eorake], and one is engaged in acts of prudence and one
has been so engaged [pephoke] […]. Also, one lives well and at the same time
has lived well, and one is happy and at the same time has been happy. If not, the action
should have come to an end sometime, as in the process of losing weight (1048b20-30).(16)
The difference between a motion, like that of losing weight, and an action or activity,
like living, is that a motion tends towards an external end, while an activity has not
only its end (telos), but its beginning, its arche, its principle, in
itself. Thus, Aristotle attempts to think arche and telos together by means
of the notion of praxis, action.(17) Praxis
has, then, a profound ontological significance insofar as it provides Aristotle with a
model by which to think being the active identity of potentiality and actuality, of matter
and form. Ousia, as praxis, is the identity of energeia and dynamis
as expressed in the activity of the existing being itself. Aristotle also uses the term
"entelecheia" to name this sort of identity. The use of that term here is
at odds with the designation of the identity of the first mover as an entelecheia
without matter (1073a34-39), for here, entelecheia is used to think the active
identity of form and matter, energeia and dynamis.(18)
Interestingly, this sort of activity is thematized in terms of the strange formulation
that places the perfect tense of a verb next to an iteration of the same verb in the
present tense: the same thing has seen and is seeing, has lived and is
living. The significance of this formulation may be apprehended if the historical
dimension of to ti en einai is recalled, for here, as there, Aristotle’s use
of verb tense in this manner emphasizes a point of deep ontological significance: the
identity of generated beings is historical, or to put it more accurately: an ousia
is its history. The perfect tense at work in this strange formulation should be understood
to suggest the preservation of the historical element in the active life of the living
being. However, by placing this perfect form of the verb next to the present tense,
Aristotle emphasizes the unity of the past and the present in the activity itself. On this
model, to be is to exist as the active identity of past and present, it is to be
determined by the past, but not exclusively so; for there remains in this
formulation an explicit emphasis on the action of the present, an activity that injects
the structure of identity with a dimension of openness and even freedom. To think ousia
as praxis is to hold the tension between past and present; it is to recognize that
the past determines the present, but that the present also continually re-determines and
re-creates itself, thus preserving and transcending that which has come before for the
sake of that which is to be.(19) This is the activity of
being.
The Legacy of ousia
Therefore, in Aristotle’s philosophy, we find, on the one hand, what may be
considered a strong authoritarian ontology in which the absolute hegemony of the first
principle reigns supreme, establishing order without itself being affected in the
slightest. On the other hand, there are the hints at an other ontology, one that affirms
the irreducibility of matter and attempts to think the identity of the individual in terms
of the relation between energeia and dynamis, form and matter.
Aristotle’s ultimate concern to account for order is the impetus behind his assertion
of the former, authoritarian position. Such thetic assertions have determined the history
of western ontology, a history with a legacy of despotism and oppression. However,
Aristotle’s concern to account for the identity of sensible ousiai suggests
the possibility of tracing a different legacy, one that is dialogical rather than
despotic, open rather than oppressive. This other conception of ontological identity is
underdeveloped by Aristotle, but it is nonetheless discernible.
I would like to use the rather enigmatic phrase "ousia is legacy" to
designate this other ontology. Here the term "legacy" must be taken in a
technical sense. On the one hand, "legacy" affirms the power of the historical
past in the present. It indicates that the present is saturated with a history that
fundamentally determines it. This dimension of ousia as legacy is expressed by the
historical nature of to ti en einai. Here the power and significance of that which
has come before is affirmed – the aspect of continuity through change, of order,
is emphasized and with it one of Aristotle’s deepest concerns. On the other hand, the
term "legacy" includes a futural element which, in fact, is not explicitly
developed by Aristotle, but which nonetheless is of decisive importance if this dynamic
conception of identity is not itself to fall into a dangerous sort of determinism. Legacy
is never something once and for all complete, but rather, it is continually in the process
of being determined and re-determined, inherited and handed down. It is the irreducibility
of matter, its resistance to the absolute hegemony of the first mover, that gives this
account its openness. By holding on to the tension of the relation between form and
matter, energeia and dynamis, ousia as legacy holds open the
possibility of new beginnings and therewith of a certain sort of freedom. The freedom
endemic to this understanding of being, however, is not without its loyalties; for it is a
freedom born of the history that determines it. With this, the full ontological and
ethical/political significance of the phrase "ousia is legacy" begins to
come into focus: the very meaning of being is to exist as the expression of the dynamic
play between history and freedom, energeia and dynamis, form and matter; it
is to hold onto the tension of this relationship and to resist ascribing absolute
authority to one ultimate principle.
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