Aristotle never deviates from his position that happiness is comprised solely of virtuous activity of the rational soul. Aristotle brings in a new thesis in Book 10 that perfect happiness consists in theoria. Kraut reminds us that in Book 1, Aristotle has left unresolved the question about which kind of life is more desirable—a life of politics or one devoted to philosophy. In Book 5 he already ruled out the third alternative life, one merely of pleasure: this is dismissed as vulgar. In Book 10 he is arguing in defense of the superiority of the life of philosophy, while the life of politics is also very much worth living. So, both kinds of lives can be considered happy and well lived, but the life devoted to theoria is the happiest (87).
Wilkes argues that Aristotle’s weight favoring the contemplative nature of the soul over the practical is at the expense of his own ergon argument. Aristotle has already complicated the issue by distinguishing two different forms of rationality in man’s ergon. Then, by defining man’s ergon as contemplation, this can not be based on Aristotle’s own condition that the ergon should be unique to the creature, since the gods do nothing else except contemplation. By highlighting contemplation at the expense of animality, this oversimplifies the nature of man, and thus, creates a gap between the life of the good man and the life that is good for a man (344-5). Nagel also sees this kind of a problem for the dominant end theory. If what makes humans unique existed without all other features that are shared with animals, then the result would not be a human being. Therefore, why should we make the intellect, which is the highest good, the ultimate end for “complicated and messy individuals like ourselves?” At a minimum, Nagel posits, eudaimonia should encompass an interaction between the function that distinguishes us from animals and those that we share in common. In that case both the practical and contemplative exercise of the rational faculty must be included in the happy life. But Aristotle has given nutrition a low status: if we can determine why, then we might know why Aristotle avers, according to Nagel, that contemplative activity is the only intrinsic quality of eudaimonia (8-9).
In contrast to Wilkes, Nagel explains how the ergon argument does support the priority Aristotle gives to theoria. Reason is what distinguishes a human being from other animals. Reasoning helps us to obtain nourishment and move about in the world, but it is not subservient to these lower functions. One plausible view is that reason is what human life is all about; it is the dominant characteristic of a human being and the lower functions serve it and provide it with a setting. This is why intellectualism has priority in Aristotle’s ethics, and why a combined position with other various elements counting in the measure of the good is less plausible. “The supreme good,” Nagle reflects, “must be measured in terms of that around which all other human functions are organized” (11).
Nagel poses the question: “Why should there be any doubt that the use of reason to earn a living or procure food should belong to the central function of man?” The answer has to do with human possibilities whereby reason has a use far greater than the ordering of practical life: the practical use of reason serves to provide support for an activity that transcends worldly concerns. The best application of reason has nothing to do with day to day living. Nagel thinks that Aristotle believes “that human life is not important enough for humans to spend their lives on. A person should seek to transcend not only his individual practical concerns but also those of society, or humanity, as a whole” (11). Aristotle hints at this as early as in Book 6: “. . . for it would be strange to think that the art of politics, or practical wisdom, is the best knowledge, since man is not the best thing in the world” (6.7, 145).
Let us backtrack a little now, and return to Book 1. Aristotle is setting the stage for the possibility of singling out “the best and most perfect” virtue, which he does in Book 10—theoria. He does not state this in Book 1 because he first must describe and analyze the many virtues before he can defend one of them as “best and most perfect.” He sets up for these discussions in Books 2 through 6 at the very end of Book 1, where he distinguishes the two major kinds of virtues: moral and intellectual, which give rise to practical wisdom and philosophic wisdom. He wraps up his ethical theory in Book 10 by reiterating the earlier theme that happiness is in activity in accordance with the best single virtue; and by concluding, therefore, that such a happy life will have as its ultimate goal the exercise of philosophical wisdom.
Before we examine the additional proofs Aristotle gives for theoria as constituting the happiest life, let us look at the role of virtue in one’s life. Everyone seems to be in agreement that one can determine what it means to be a good man through a study of man’s ergon. However, Wilkes, among others, has questioned how this study can tell us what is good for man. Part of the problem is reflected in the common English synonyms used for eudaimonia: doing well, eu prattein, and living, eu zen. A man can perform excellently according to his ergon, with or without living a life that is good for him (343). Aristotle takes up several major themes regarding virtue, themes which are not the subject of this paper. However, I want to highlight the essence of some of these themes in order to tie these major ideas into Aristotle’s account of happiness. These concepts are as follows:
T. H. Irwin does not discuss contemplation in one of his essays about Aristotle’s account of happiness. Instead, he argues that Aristotle must satisfy his claim that Solon was wrong in maintaining that, due to possible unfortunate external circumstances, one cannot be counted among the happy until one has lived his whole life and is now dead (1.10, 19). Because of the up and down swings occurring over a lifetime, it was a common notion for the Greeks that no one should be deemed happy until his death. Aristotle must also show how virtue ensures happiness while the vicious cannot achieve eudaimonia even though it may seem, from outward appearances that the vicious person has benefited himself. Since most of the NE is devoted to discussions about virtue, it is clear that Aristotle regards these virtues as necessary ingredients of the happy life (“Permanent” 2). If Solon requires happiness to last a whole lifetime, then he is regarding happiness as unstable, since it is vulnerable to bad luck all the time. Aristotle, on the other hand, according to Irwin, is grounding happiness within the virtues: happiness is controlled by virtuous actions, which are controlled by virtue, per se, and virtue is stable and permanent. Therefore, happiness, in so far as one is virtuous, is stable and permanent (1.10, 20) (“Permanent” 20).
According to Irwin, Aristotle derives the relation between virtue and happiness from Plato’s Republic, where the just person who loses his fortune and suffers harm is still happier than any unjust person would be. Irwin cites a passage from outside of NE where Aristotle informs that Plato did not subscribe to the Socratic claim that the good person is happy, but that someone becomes happy at the same time he is becoming good—a claim that Aristotle can accept. A person becomes actualized more completely as long as he regards character and action as his dominant aim, rather than the external results of the actions. This is grounded in the ergon of man as a rational agent. One who identifies himself with his rational agency could not believe he could be happier if he were to be less virtuous. Indeed, he knows that he would be worse off, even if externally benefited, if he sacrificed the dominant component of his good, the rational agency (“Permanent” 16).
The adaptable person, who changes his character in order to secure some perceived results or benefits, is selling his soul, so to speak, in refusing to form a fixed character. He allows less of himself to persist into the future and, therefore, is partly destroying himself. Irwin presents arguments outside of NE that Aristotle uses to defend this position that the persistence of a person depends upon the persistence of states of character. Aristotle connects these metaphysical claims to the NE in his discussion on friendship (“Permanent” 19). We can see that this is a continuation of Aristotle’s ergon argument. “Perfect friendship is the friendship of men who are good, and alike in virtue; for these wish well alike to each other qua good, and they are good in themselves. Now those who wish well to their friends for their sake are most truly friends; for they do this by reason of their own nature and not incidentally; therefore their friendship lasts as long as they are good—and goodness is an enduring thing” (8.3, 196).
A picture of the best life, for Aristotle, entails that Virtue be understood as a unified whole; that the virtues are not separate. For example, courage is a matter of facing danger, but not just any danger: it must be a result of facing the right danger for the right reason (3.7). As Richard Sorabji instructs, we cannot base actions on isolated concepts, such as fearlessness. A right action depends partly on other virtues, such as justice, and also must be based on what kind of life one is aiming at, such as one of philosophy. According to Sorabji, then, Aristotle holds that the virtuous man will take various factors into consideration in living the good, unified, life (207). However, this is not to say that Aristotle thinks we can derive, syllogistically, what courage requires with the aid of a minor premise from our conception of the good life. But this does not mean that it is not influenced by that conception. Some writers play down the role of the intellect in virtue. For example, Walter, according to Sorabji, claims that goals are decided by virtue, but that virtue is a slave of passion, or desire. This sentiment puts Aristotle in the camp with Hume and the emotivists” (209).
One perceived problem with Aristotle’s account of virtue is the large part he gives to habituation in the formation of the various virtues. It may seem, at first reading, that habituation was enough to instill virtue. However, as Sorabji points out, Aristotle tells us that we must choose our actions for the sake of virtue; the acquisition of habit is not enough (1105a31-33). Later he compares habituation with preparing the soil for seed (1179b26). Someone who has formed good habits will have ethical facts available to him from which teaching can start. Aristotle’s lectures will provide one with a fuller conception of the good life (217). Throughout the NE Aristotle prepares the student for the comprehensive role the intellect must play in order for one to be virtuous. In Books 2-4, Aristotle repeatedly declares that “the mean in virtue is in accordance with logos or orthos logos” (218).
Sorabji discusses the value Aristotle places on the role of the intellect in moral virtue in three interrelated ways: choice (prohairesis), practical wisdom (phronēsis), and within habituation, which is not merely a mindless process (201). Regarding choice, Sorabji argues with others who claim that Aristotle is stating that we choose only means and not ends, and with those who claim that Aristotle is saying that we choose only things in our power. Those interpretations are too restrictive, Sorabji avers: “And in saying that we choose only in relation to ends, what Aristotle means to do is to preserve a certain link between choice and rationality. If we choose an end, we choose it in relation to a yet further end” (204). The deliberation that plays a part in practical wisdom is important not just for individual goals, but for a much wider purpose: that with a view “to the good life in general (pros to eu zēn holōs 6.5 1140a25-31), with a view to the best (to ariston 6.7 1141b13; 6.12 1144a32-33), and with a view to happiness (eudaimonia Rhet. 1366-b20)” (205-6). We have already noted that Aristotle meant for the NE to be a general guide and not any sort of rule book to instruct men how to act in particular cases. Given that one has a conception of the good life in general, Sorabji posits that it is practical wisdom’s role is to instruct one in what generosity, virtue, and kalon (the noble) require of him in specific cases. “A picture of the good life will save him from giving away too much, or too little, or to the wrong causes, in particular instances” (206).
Wilkes also points to the to eu zēn holōs passage in describing her view of the inclusive nature of Aristotle’s eudaimonia. This version of eudaimonia she conveniently labels the “life-plan” approach, whereby man should include a number of necessary and desirable elements in his overall aim of having a good or happy life: but these elements must be coherently integrated with one another over his whole life span. In order to achieve this goal, Aristotle instructs in NE about using deliberation and practical wisdom: for analyzing and grasping the notion of a good life; for reflective assessment of both short-term and long-term goals; and for ways to achieve and integrate these aims with a view toward the most completeness (teleiotes, 1097a28) and self-sufficiency (autarkeia, 1097b8). If this view is correct, Wilkes claims, then Aristotle must demonstrate “that man cannot attain the good life, the good for man, unless he is a good man.” A good life-plan must have virtuous activity as its cornerstone. He must show that the immoral man is deluded in his notion and pursuit of happiness and that “his practical reason has organized his life inefficiently” (341-2).
Since she thinks Aristotle erred in bifurcating the nature of human rationality, Wilkes proposes that we posit that practical wisdom is man’s highest-order capacity. This seems to be the better candidate over intellectual, or contemplative, wisdom, since without this capacity no one could be considered to be fully a man. Practical reasoning deals with what concerns man’s own life—his affairs, his health, and his interests. Aristotle states that a man of practical wisdom is able to deliberate “about what sorts of thing conduce to the good life in general” (6.5, 142). Because man is a social animal, Aristotle does not mean the self-sufficiency of the good life to be one that is self sufficient for a solitary life: it must include living with family, friends, and fellow citizens, “since man is born for citizenship” (1.7, 12). The most successful man, Wilkes reasons, must develop moral virtues in order to fit in with society (see 1144a36-b1, 1144b16-17). Theoria would have a role in this good life, since many people think that intellectual activity is good, but it would not play a dominant role (unless one were to choose to be a philosopher by avocation). With practical reason at the helm, a well rounded, full, and active life can be actualized by the good man (346-7).
